#((and thus put on display! and after that you hit everything else on the head!))

[binxyu]

Being the main writer for the college paper made it particularly hard for people not to be in your business because, well, you were in their’s. Thus, everyone in the school was aware of your relationship with Juyeon and Hyunjae. But, that doesn’t stop a flirty athlete from hitting on you.

>>Pairing: Lee Jaehyun x Lee Juyeon (doms) x fem!reader (sub) | athletes!jaehyun and juyeon x writer!reader

>>Word Count: 4.3k

>>Genre: Oneshot / Requested / Smut

>>Warnings/Kinks: Choking, creampie, cum eating, cum play, double penetration, exhibitionism/public sex, harassment (not from the boys), marking, oral (giving + receiving), possessiveness, praise, saliva, and unprotected sex

The reminder you had set on your phone was not enough to take your focus off the man in front of you.

Truth be told, you were quite forgetful for a person with such a tight schedule.

Writing on your hand was tried. It didn’t really work considering you washed your hands consistently throughout the day (damn the germs in colleges), smudging the ink to an unreadable blur on your hand.

Thankfully, that’s how you had met your boyfriends. Yeah, plural. There’s an s there.

You had been rushing towards an assignment you had been given for the paper. It was a request to interview some of the top students in the music department and damn late wasn’t even enough of a word to describe how long ago you were supposed to be there.

Showing up a couple hours late resulted in most of the students already gone, hiding away in their dorms for the afternoon.

But, there were two students still waiting for you. Lee Jaehyun (although he likes people to call him Hyunjae) and Lee Juyeon.

They were your saving grace for your paper and, in return, you let them take you out on a date.

Now, months later, your relationship with them still ran strong.

But, apparently your hearing didn’t because the reminder sound on your phone didn’t even register as you write down practically everything the athlete was telling you.

He actually was a classmate of your’s and a pretty popular one at that. The whole school practically knew about him.

“And that’s how I beat the record”, you nodded sweetly, keeping that signature interviewer smile on your face. It did a fantastic job of getting people to open up and this guy was no exception.

“So, one last question, are you dating anyone?”, you weren’t asking for yourself. Especially not when you were already quite... busy... with the two men you were already dating. It was more for the majority of the female population in the school who did like him.

Besides, everyone in the school knew about you and, more specifically, your polyamorous relationship. It wasn’t seen everyday to be fair. You three stuck out like a sore thumb.

“No, I haven’t really been looking”, bullshit. You had been to the football games, the man loved to rile up the crowd. He practically chucked his shirt into a girl’s face the other night when it was “too hot”.

It was just above 50 degrees that night.

“I see. Thank you for the interview”, you smiled and he nodded, smiling back at you before a lightbulb seemed to go off in his mind.

“Are you looking?”, he must have noticed the shocked expression you had because his hand encased your’s, seemingly trying to soothe you as his thumb traced the back of your hand.

All it did was make you more anxious.

“No, sorry, I’m not. I’m actually taken”, there goes that reminder again but you ignored it. It was probably just your reminder to take your gummy vitamins or something stupid the boys put in there because they cared. Maybe a little too much sometimes.

“Oh, by who?”, it wasn’t a curious question. He didn’t believe you. His tone said it.

“By us”, uh oh.

Turning around, you were met with your two lovers. They hovered over you like angry wolves and you could only feel like a little lamb underneath them.

The athlete had flirted with you before and that only made the situation more intense. Of course the football player knew about your relationship. It just didn’t seem to matter to him.

Until, well, now you guess.

“You didn’t come”, shit. So, that was the reminder?

You had a date with them after this interview and it completely flew out of your mind like a paper lost in the wind.

“Sorry, I lost track of time”, they nodded and, for a moment, you thought you saw their eyes soften as they look at you but they just returned back to those icy cold stares.

Even the muscular athlete was scared. Everyone knew how possessive your boyfriends were.

It was pretty obvious after a particularly ignorant party animal laid his drunk hands on you. Before he could do anything else, he was already thrown on the floor with Juyeon’s fist landing on his cheek while Hyunjae pulled you back into his chest like he was some kind of shield.

It was hot, you weren’t going to lie, but it did make you a little worried for people you truly did just want to be friends with.

“Hey, babies, let’s go. Let’s go have our date now”, you placed each of your hands on their chests. It was a gentle move that always seemed to calm them and you smiled as you felt their heartbeats slow down, your own starting to match theirs as you felt it through your hands.

“Fine but you”, Hyunjae pointed with precision at the man, “stay away from her. She doesn’t like you and she’s said no multiple times. She’s ours” the man finally nodded and ran off while you were stuck standing there with a wave of arousal shooting to your core.

Ignore it. You can’t be walking around with marks again-

The internal scold fell short as the boys wrapped you up in a hug. You could practically feel the warmth from their anger coming off of them in waves.

“Next time listen to your reminders. We set them for you for a reason”, Hyunjae scolded you, grabbing your phone to turn off the pesky sound. You really didn’t hear it. Maybe your hearing does need to be checked.

“I know I know. I’m forgetful”, you pout and the boys looked at it, wanting nothing more than to kiss your pouty lips until they’re swollen. Juyeon just chuckles instead and ruffles your hair sweetly.

It was such a sharp contrast to how cold he looked a minute ago but you were used to it. They were usually cold to others but were exceptionally sweet to you.

Well, most of the time.

“Come on, dory. We’ve got to get outside”, that’s always been Hyunjae’s favorite nickname for you. Sadly, you couldn’t argue that it didn’t suit you.

Sometimes you even forget what your name is.

“Okay”, you nodded and held their hands, walking securely in between them. You always did feel safe with your boyfriends and being without them was honestly terrifying. They were like your bodyguards.

Out in the beautiful field of the campus was a little picnic blanket, laid out with plenty of your favorite foods.

They always loved to spoil you and, while the sight in front of you wasn’t much of a surprise considering it was their favorite form of dates, it made you happy nonetheless.

“Aw, thank you boys”, you gave them both a peck on the cheek and sat down. You weren’t much for public displays of affection.

Hand holding? That was fine. It was their way of saying that you were their’s. But, the bigger things like kissing or hugging? That was more of a private thing for you.

Those were actions you did when the three of you could safely display your love for one another without being judged because, let’s be honest, you’re not much of the outgoing type.

Sure, you have to talk to lots of people for your writing, but that didn’t mean you liked to. You actually liked to keep to yourself.

It was odd considering Hyunjae and Juyeon were quite popular due to their singing skills. Everyone wanted them but they only had their eyes set on you.

They helped you sit down, filling up your plate with delicious treats that almost had you drooling. You just realized how hungry you were when your stomach let out the most obnoxious growl you had ever heard.

Okay- maybe you also forget to take care of yourself. When you’re busy the last thing on your mind is what your body wants. Just the task at hand is important.

“Dory, do we need to start setting reminders for food and stuff too?”, Hyunjae shook his head as Juyeon handed you the plate of food. You quickly shook your head back, taking a bite of the fruit sitting on the plate in your lap.

“No, I just got busy. I’m not too hungry”, Hyunjae looked at you with the most untrusting look. He knew you and he knew that you frequently “got busy” and that meant you frequently forgot to take those vitamins or to at least drink water.

As you ate, you started to circle the important details you had written down during the interview, making a clear note in your head to add those facts into the paper.

Sad thing was: the athlete barely gave you anything to work with. Most of it was just bragging or hitting on you.

“What an asshole”, you sighed and rested your forehead on Juyeon’s shoulder. He simply chuckled and started to run his fingers through your hair. You weren’t a saint by any means but cussing was rare. You found it to be a bad habit in public while you swore like a sailor in the safety of your bedroom.

“Frustrated?”, Hyunjae asked, rubbing your back with his large palm, working the knot he knew you had. They really did know your body so well.

“Yeah, he didn’t really give me anything to work with. Just flirting”, you didn’t mean to let the last part slip out. It was just what you thinking about and sometimes that filter in your brain was clogged with all the useless information you kept there.

“Maybe you could do your report on someone else?”, surprisingly, the response was calm and you had to let out a sigh of relief.

“Maybe. I’d have to ask”, you were the writer for the school but it didn’t mean you had free will. Everything had to be ran by someone else. Every decision.

“Alright, I’d feel much more comfortable if you didn’t have to talk to that guy again”, you nodded in agreement.

God forbid something go right because weeks later, after one failed attempt at switching stories, you were put on the athlete’s case once again. This time it was because he was the reason the school won against their rivals.

So, there you sat on the desk chair. You had just finished your journalism class and, ironically, the jerk was in the class with you. You both just agreed to do the interview in the classroom.

You had already told the boys about it and they promised to check in soon. You were worried but also thankful. Your gut had an awful feeling about this guy.

As you were reaching for your notepad and pen, a hand stopped you. It was wrapped around your wrist and you looked up in surprise to see the athlete’s eyes sparkling with mischief.

That can’t be good.

“Come on, no one has denied me before. Why won’t you go out with me?”, it made you scoff and you yanked your wrist from his cold, rubbing the red flesh with your other hand.

“Because I’m taken. So, drop it”, that seemed to strike a nerve. He looked furious and fear flowed through your body when he got up.

Before he could reach you, a hand gripped the collar of his shirt, lifting him up and throwing him out of the room. Juyeon rushed to you, gently wiping away tears with his thumbs.

Wait- you were crying? You hadn’t even noticed.

Hyunjae seemed to take the high road and just simply shut the door in the student’s face, locking him out.

They honestly rarely fought but when they did it was brutal. That’s why they tried to never do it in front of you.

“Are you okay? He didn’t touch you?”, you reassured him you were fine by letting him look you over, his eyes quickly looking over you as if you had some hidden life threatening injury.

After some time, you were already feeling better. The boys had made it their mission to make you laugh as much as possible in the classroom, doing silly dances and even tickling you. They just loved your laugh too much.

“Baby, I have an idea for your newspaper”, Hyunjae looked a little dazed. Well, more than dazed. You couldn’t blame him considering you had all been playing a game of cards and you sucked so fucking bad at it. Therefore, your little game of stripping if you lost resulting in the boys completely clothed while you sat there completely bare.

“And what is that?”, you shivered as the cold air hit your back. Juyeon pulled you in between his legs and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to keep you warm. Plus, his hold was barely below your breasts and he truly did love those.

“Make it a smut”, you gasped when Hyunjae connected his lips with your’s harshly, a little more rough than usual. Then, it hit you, they held all that anger in just to use it on you.

While you would never actually write a smut for the school paper (unless you really wanted to be fired), you liked to idea of using it to rile them up. They loved your writing and, more specifically, the wonderful sex scenes you wrote.

Anytime you were busy, you’d write them one and then you’d be happy to oblige to their request to act it out when you got back to your dorm. Sometimes they were short scenes and sometimes they were long. Either way, the boys were happy to help you fulfill your fantasies.

The only difference today is that there is no prompt. They get to make up the story themselves.

“Do you want me to tell everyone how good you two fuck me? How well you stretch me out?”, just your words alone had Juyeon’s erection desperately trying to escape the confinement of his jeans. You could feel the bulge against your back and you watched as the wetness started to coat your thighs.

“Yes, tell everyone how good we make you feel”, you nodded in agreement and looked at the door, thankful that there was no windows uncovered in the room.

Finally, feeling safe, you turned around and started to unzip Juyeon’s jeans, pulling it down his legs along with his boxers. You simply tossed them, watching them land on the surface of one of the desks.

Hyunjae wasn’t far behind, removing his own clothes and doing a similar action to them, discarding them as if they were the trash beneath his feet.

“Turn around”, you nodded, turned your body back around and you immediately knew what he wanted. You leaned down to make yourself level with his cock, your eyes running over the veins and the angry red tip. Your ass was right where the man wanted it, high up in front of him.

Your lips wrapped around his shaft, running your tongue along the sides to coat it in your saliva. It always made the movements a bit easier. Juyeon groaned and dove his tongue down your slit, suckling at your clit once he reached it.

The moan you let out sent a vibration through his sensitive tip, causing his thighs to shake slightly. It was a beautiful sight.

Not forgetting about your other boyfriend, you looked up to make eye contact with Hyunjae. He licked his lips as he watched you practically gag on the large cock that belonged to Juyeon.

He was always a bit of a voyeur and, as much as he loved the sight, he couldn’t wait any longer. He sat on his knees next to you and moved his own cock closer to your mouth.

Hyunjae was bigger than Juyeon, stretching you out beyond belief but Juyeon was longer, hitting your cervix with every thrust. Both were a perfect mix of pleasure and pain. Different but well balanced.

You brought your head back, releasing Juyeon from your mouth and you replaced where your mouth had been with your hand, jerking the man off. A long string of saliva connected your mouth to his but you couldn’t care because Hyunjae’s dick was far too tempting to forget.

You wrapped your mouth around his cock now, feeling your jaw lock slightly from the sheer volume you had taken in. He was just as delicious as the previous one and you couldn’t help yourself from sucking him like he was your favorite lollipop. To be honest, he was.

Juyeon slipped a finger inside of your dripping cunt and you whimpered, listening to the sound of your pussy clenching around the digit, soaking it in your wetness.

“I think she can take both of us now”, you stopped for a moment, a little surprised. Sure, you three had discussed double penetration but you never really felt ready. Could you really handle that much?

Maybe you could.

“Let’s do it”, your words came out muffled since you were still infatuated with the taste of Hyunjae’s dick. The boys smirked at one another and Hyunjae gripped your hair to pull you off of him. Your hand instinctively let go of Juyeon’s dick too, missing the feeling of having something to play with.

You never liked to sit still but you knew you probably were going to have to after this session.

“Up here then, baby”, Hyunjae chuckled as you yelped, his arms under your body as he laid you across the desk. You winced when a pencil sharpener landed on the floor off the desk, probably breaking into pieces.

How had no one heard you before this? You had no idea.

Juyeon got up off the floor, rushing to Hyunjae’s side. Hyunjae held your thigh and pushed it open more, taking in the beautiful sight of your glistening pussy. It was his favorite work of art and Juyeon wanted nothing more than to continue the feast he was in the middle of.

“Alright, we’ll go one at a time, okay? If we need to stop then tell us. You okay with this still?”, Juyeon asked softly. Despite how cold they were, they still asked for permission and it was especially important now.

“I’m okay with it. I’ll tell you if you have to stop”, you nodded and looked up at the two. Fuck, you were so lucky.

They both had little stars in their eyes whenever they looked at you and it always reminded you that they were indeed your stars. Those little stars in their eyes only lit up when they looked at you.

Hyunjae decided to go first as the bigger of the two, gently easing his way into you. The stretch was slightly uncomfortable at first but no longer painful. You had adjusted to both of them rather quickly solo but together? That may be a bit harder.

Right when he brushed against that specific spot inside of you, you covered your mouth and moaned, gripping the edge of the desk.

Hyunjae watched you, smirking when he realized you were already becoming overwhelmed with pleasure. He loved watching you try to hold onto anything to keep your grounded to reality. He always seemed to bring you to cloud 9.

“All in. Now you’ll take Juyeon too, right? You’ll be a good girl and take him too?”, you nodded obediently and looked between your legs, noticing that Hyunjae had completely bottomed out inside of you. You already seemed so full, a bulge present in your stomach from where Hyunjae had settled.

Truly, no one could make you feel this good with so little effort but them.

Juyeon gripped your other thigh and pressed small kisses there, a gentle reminder that it was okay to stop him. That he loved you.

He sucked a few marks to the skin, making you whine because once they start they don’t stop. You’ll be covered in marks by the end of the hour.

Once you were spread wider, almost completely folded, Juyeon guided his cock in beside Hyunjae’s. Now, that hurt.

“Slower! Slower please”, Juyeon quickly nodded, noticing that your eyes were watering. He gently wiped them away and stayed still for a moment so you could get used to the stretch. When you nodded, he slowly moved again and you felt your vagina quickly adjust to the size. Like you were made to handle both.

And, now, you couldn’t stop moaning under your hand. It did very little to muffle the noises but it was your only hope of not getting caught.

Hyunjae was pressed against your g-spot as Juyeon had taken it upon himself to settle his tip against your cervix. And, inside of you, their cocks rubbed against each other in an unspoken competition to see who could go deeper.

Of course, Juyeon would win that category but that didn’t matter to Hyunjae.

Both watched their bulges in your stomach as one pulled out and pushed back in. Then, they started alternating until you were so stretched out that they could move together in perfect unison.

The sounds of skin slapping filled the room as they fucked you raw, sharing you in the most perfect way. Everything felt so good that you could already feel the knot forming in your stomach, begging to be released and coat their cocks in your cum.

“You like it, hm? Does it feel good?”, Juyeon teased as he watched your eyes roll back and your nails dig into the wood beneath you. You nodded but your love didn’t like that. He gripped your throat, squeezing it slightly right where he needed to.

The blissful feeling only became more unbearable as you felt some oxygen escape your throat. Tears spilled down your cheeks before he let go, allowing you to breathe.

“Yes! Fuck, I love it!”, the boys leaned down to suck marks all over your breasts, stomach, and hips. Still easy to hide but you knew that wasn’t going to last long.

Their hips snapped against your core as they moved, Hyunjae’s pelvis bone rubbing against your clit perfectly. It made your mouth hang open in a tiny scream and you couldn’t hold it anymore, squirting all over the two as you came.

You had never done that and you were scared that they would hate it but the bright smiles on their faces made you relax. It made you feel good and that’s all that mattered to them.

As the thrusts continued, you squirmed from the overstimulation and Juyeon had to pin you down by your wrists to keep you from falling off the desk.

Their movements became more sloppy and they came together, filling up your clenching cunt with their cum. You felt way too full with all of it and their cocks still inside of you, tapping Juyeon’s arm in a silent plea.

He understood and nodded at Hyunjae, the both of them pulling out to milk the rest of their orgasm’s on whatever they could find. Your thighs, clit, stomach, chest, arms, etc. You looked like the filthiest thing they’ve ever seen and they couldn’t be more proud.

Juyeon put his clothes back on and went out to grab a towel from the locker room as Hyunjae just stared at the cum spilling out of you and down the side of the unfortunate wooden desk.

He seemed to be deep in thought as you tried to breathe correctly, his finger entering your hole without warning and you looked down to see him pull it out. He looked you dead in the eye as he licked off the mixture of cream, humming happily when he found out he loved the taste.

“We taste delicious together”, he leaned down and held your ankles as he started to lap at the cum dripping out of you, eating it up like it was a five star meal. You shivered from the feeling of his warm muscle meeting your cold skin as he licked you clean, licking his lips every time he came up for air.

“How in the world am I going to write an article when that is in my head?”, you motioned to the sight of the cum dripping down his chin. His lips were swollen and his brown locks stuck to his forehead from the sweat. He looked ravishing.

“Smut”, he popped the m for emphasis and you shook your head, letting him kiss you so you could taste it too. It tasted like the best mixture of fruit and you found yourself diving your tongue in his mouth for more.

“Oh yeah, we definitely have to stay together if this is how good we taste”, you giggled and Juyeon had entered just in time to get a taste too. He kissed you, swirling his tongue inside of your mouth before he pulled away. He licked his lips and acted as if he was critiquing a meal.

“I’d have to give my thanks to the chef”, he joked and you smiled, letting out a little chuckle as you tried to sit up but your legs were not having it and neither were your boyfriends.

They rubbed your thighs as you laid back down, trying to ease the soreness in them. Juyeon kissed your hand lovingly and your heart swelled from all the love you felt for the two.

You had no doubt that they were really the ones you were going to spend your life with.

“Looks like the school newspaper is going to have to wait. Unless you feel like writing on a cum stained desk”, Hyunjae chuckled and you huffed, knowing that that paper was definitely not going to be done by its due date.

#binxyu #lsn.works #hyunjae #juyeon #tbz hyunjae #tbz juyeon #lee jaehyun #lee juyeon #tbz #the boyz #tbz oneshots #the boyz oneshots #tbz smut #hyunjae smut #the boyz hyunjae smut #tbz imagines #the boyz imagines #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #juyeon smut #the boyz juyeon smut #tbz x reader #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut

[radiosandrecordings]

Okay, at risk of sounding like I’ve emerged from Sherlock forums like a caveman thawed from ice (Look I was 8 in 2010 I didn’t know!) I wanna talk about how in TMA tea legitimately is a stand-in for love/comfort. Specifically by looking at it in episodes 45, 81, 122, the season 5 trailer, and 186.

So 45 is the first time we hear about Martin’s whole tea thing. He comes into Jon’s office to ask if he wants tea, and this is quickly dismissed by the Oh God Jon Are You Stalking Tim? Thing but I think it needs to be mentioned because that’s the start of it all. And it recurs through S2, Martin’s constant worry and doting, both in recording and presumably off recording too, enough that it’s remarked on by other characters. He’s derided for it, Tim in 65 saying “Martin just wants a tea party” when expressing how he feels no one in the Institute cares about him, and in 110 Basira says “Look, Martin. I know you care. I know you do. But caring isn’t enough. You can’t just stand next to someone with a cup of tea and hope everything’s gonna be all right.” It seems to be something he himself is embarrassed about as well, “What, sat around drinking tea until the world ends?! Or, you know, it doesn’t. We hope.” in 116 and then again in 117 with “Anyway, I guess I’m just sick of sitting on my hands drinking tea and hoping everyone’s okay.”

So cut to season 3, 81, when Georgie comes home and Jon immediately offers to make her tea. This is something, to the listener’s knowldge, he has never done before. He feels guilty for taking up her time and home (see: cleaning the kitchen) and wants to do something that he’s picked up, consciously or unconsciously, that means ‘Here is something to show I care about you, an act of service and a gift in one. I do this for you because I cannot speak the words I wish to convey myself, so I give you this, which gives the reassurance and comfort that you need’

And she just dismisses him out of hand! Because at one stage (S4 Q&A I believe?) Jonny talks about how he is trying to explore a certain specific dynamic between each set of characters when it comes to their relationships to each other, and I at least like to think of Jon’s relationship with Georgie as being about a lack of information and context, and that’s what created the rift between them, imperfect information being used as a basis for judgement. So here she displays this by just not having the context for what tea means to Jon. She hasn’t seen him in years, hasn’t met Martin yet, has no idea that the reason Jon extends her that offer is as an olive branch, an ‘I care about you’, because that’s what Martin has taught Jon it means. I think that one little line in that first interaction between them we hear is a beautiful little microcosm for how their relationship continues. Jon reaches out to Georgie for connection, but she just doesn’t understand his world. She loves Melanie because Melanie is different to Jon, not as deeply embroiled, she can get out, she can be ‘saved’. Wheras she does not have the knowledge we have, about how the last two years for Jon have been hell, so she just sees someone trying to drag her down and, wisely with the information she has but horrifyingly with the information we have, says ‘No, for my own health I am staying away from this’. 

And then we have 122, in which Jon wakes up from being literally dead, and Basira offers him water. Cold, clinical, impersonal water from the hallway of a hospital. It's practical, clears his throat, and it’s exactly like how Basira treats him. Nothing special, no thought gone into it beyond ‘What is the tactically right thing to do here?’ because the whole of S4 is about Basira showing a startling lack of empathy for Jon, her former frien- Well. Person she is friendly towards. She has branded him as a monster, and thus he gets treated as such. No compassion for those we’ve slapped the label of ‘Evil’ on. And of course, she doesn’t get the subtext, because her whole thing is despite being incredibly intelligent, she has a habit of taking things at face value because she trusted Daisy’s judgement of people and never looked further into it, lest that make her uncomfortable with her actions, and this is exactly what she proceeds to do with Jon. Keep him at a distance. Don’t look in his eyes, lest you see something you recognise in there. And he calls after her, asking that, actually, would she be able to get tea? And she doesn't hear him. She puts a lot of effort into never hearing him. 

But what else had he done after waking up? Oh yeah. He asks “Where’s Martin?”, with such confusion because he cannot imagine a world where someone he took for granted previously isn’t there to offer him reassurance. He says it himself, “Honestly, I’m surprised Martin isn’t –” He’s surprised! And he wants him there. He wants him to be there so badly, just like he isn’t for the entire rest of the season. So he asks for the thing that has meant comfort and kindness to him in his place. And, because Martin is no longer there, he doesn’t get it.

And in the S5 trailer we have this whole thing spelt out for us! Martin brings Jon tea in the safehouse and well, it ain't fuckin tea! And so Jon says 'You can't trust comfort' because that's what tea has always been for him, that steady thing throughout, comfort that he can no longer have. The world is ruined and now tea isn’t even safe from corruption, twisted into something meant to inspire fear in them, a symbol turned on it’s head. And then, 162 Martin finds some left over, under the sink, and that's what they take to the apocalypse. That one last piece of comfort that Jon finds in Martin, in his intelligence and his perseverance and kindness and hope. In his unwavering ability to care, if not for, then about Jon.

... But if we’re tackling ‘Tea’ as a whole we have to divert from the beautiful love story a little and talk about 186, and tea, and trauma. Tea has always been Martin’s thing, so it makes sense it would slip neatly into his backstory. His mother, cold and dismissive and uncaring, requested tea whenever she didn’t want to have to deal with him. It was a way to give him a task, make him feel useful, and a way to get him to leave the room. This is why he began to bring Jon tea. Jon was, unfortunately, a bit like his mother. Someone whom he wanted to please, but didn’t seem to have the time of day for him. So he makes them both tea, because Martin’s mother used it to dismiss him, and then when he tries to apply the same tactic he’s had drilled into him to Jon, Jon originally dismisses him because of the tea. It’s a bother to him, before he realises how necessary that connection is. So now I’m just thinking about this thing that became a source of anguish for Martin, so much so that even as an adult, even after his mother is dead, he still can’t taste oolong without being hit with the memory of that pain and belittlement. And how Jon, with some time and character development, took that thing he did out of desperation for approval and turned it into something Jon made a pillar of his life, the symbol of Martin in goodness and his love and Jon sought it out every chance he got, and passed it onto others as an act of kindness as well. Martin’s mother meant the tea as a veiled hate, but it got passed down and distilled through enough love that when Jon offers tea to Georgie, what he is saying is “I care about you”. 

#My Post #Me: idk if there's ENOUGH to write about on tea maybe I should wait and see if we get any other tea refs in before the end #Also me: 1379 words on the subject #The Magnus Archives #Martin Blackwood #Jonathan Sims #Jonmartin #Basira Hussain #Georgie Barker #Jongeorgie

[football-writing]

Jack Grealish - figure it out

"Please don't do this." Her voice was trembling, her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at the guy in front of her.

"Y/N, don't make this harder than it is. Please." He ushered her to calm down, a painful expression on his face as he saw how much he hurt her.

"If it's so hard, why do you have to break up with me? We can just stay together, right? Don't do this to me Jack."

She took a step closer as she tried to convince him, reaching out her hands to hold his, a pleading look in her tear-filled eyes. But Jack had already made up his mind. It wasn't like there had been any real problems, or some sort of breaking point. Hell, he is still head over heels for her, too. But seeing as the tabloids had it in for him, and how he was moving away to Manchester, he figured it would be best to end it here. For her sake. She had always been insecure, and dating a footballer that lived 90 miles away wasn't going to make her feel any better.

"Please don't do this." She whispered again as she finally broke down completely, her sobs echoing through the room as she fought to breath. Jack reached out to hold her steady, his hands on her upper back, tracing figures with his fingertips in hopes of soothing her heartbreak even the slightest bit. He kissed the top of her head as she struggled to break free from his grasp, her balled up fists hitting his chest repeatedly as she cried out about how much she hated him for doing this to her, but he caught her hands in his with ease. A whispered plead for her to stop being all it took for her to give in and let him comfort her for the final time. Maybe he had broken her heart now, but her heartbreak would be much worse if tabloids and fans and the distance between them got to her. He could manage if he was hated for his move to City, but if she came to be subject of their harassment? It would kill him.

"It's for the best, Y/N. I'm sorry." He spoke softly as he broke their embrace. However, her grip on him tightened, not letting go as they looked into each other's eyes, a yearning present in both pairs to give in, a desire so strong it made their skin feel ablaze; to touch, feel each other's skin, burn with passion for the other, even now. Especially now.

And she kissed him. Stood up on her tippy toes and reached for the back of his head to pull him down, lips hungry and desperate as they molded together, fear and sorrow evident as they moved against each other. The taste of her tears now on his tongue, and for a second he wondered if this was all worth it.

But he knew in the back of his mind that it was. So when they finally parted, her eyes pleading him to stay, he apologised one more time before he left her standing there to pick up the pieces on her own.

- Hindsight didn't help her one bit. -

She had tried to get over him, she really had. Even if she didn't run into him around town, she couldn't possibly move on when everything she did reminded her of him. The mug with a faded picture of the two of them that he always used to drink his tea out of staring at her everytime she opened her cabinets, his aftershave that smelled like home to her still in her bathroom. Even as she put a pizza in her oven, she was reminded of the time he burned his arm when trying to make pizza on their date night. How she had ended up rubbing butter on his arm because he had read on reddit that it would relieve the pain, both laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. How her laughter had died down in her throat as he had grabbed the backs of her thighs to lift her up on the counter top, making out until that forgotten pizza had turned cold again.

His move to Manchester hadn't exactly made her thoughts disappear. He was everywhere: she couldn't open twitter or there was more news about him, the papers displaying his face on their front covers with his record breaking deal. Yet she also saw how fans targeted him for his move to City.

And it pained her to realise that she understood. Why he broke up with her. The fans would no doubt have targeted her, too, and throughout their relationship they had always been clear on her not giving up anything for his career - clearly that included not moving away from the place that she had grown to call home.

But god did it kill her to know that she wouldn't be able to be there for him. With him. She knew he had meant to think of her, but instead he had thought for her- breaking up with her for her own good without letting her weigh in on that decision. That was the hardest part for her. Anyone would understand if she was angry and upset at him. And maybe she was. But she still loved him, and his act only proved that he loved her too, even if the way it showed wasn't the outcome she wished for.

- It was how she came to be in her current situation. -

With Jack on her couch at 5am. Their eyes darting over the other curiously, filled with desire, only to turn away like a deer caught in headlights as soon as they made eye contact. Their relationship thus far had been natural, easy. But nothing about this was easy. How was she to respond to him being here after all those weeks?

"You're probably wondering why I'm here." He had begun for her.

"Clearly." Her tone was more bitter than she had meant.

"I couldn't sleep."

She figured he'd say something else, explain why that was a reason to come back to her, but he kept quiet instead, his eyes focused on his fidgeting hands.

"So you drove the 90 miles back here?"

"Yeah. Look, I just-" He looked up then, finally making eyecontact while biting the inside of his cheek nervously. He looked like it scared him, too, to finally look into her eyes again. Seeing her face for the first time after leaving her when he broke up with her. Perhaps he expected her to look happy, brighter, while she had been without him. But to his surprise her eyes were dull, bags under them from the lack of sleep, her lips chapped; he knew it was from picking at them, something she did when she was upset. She was just as tired as he was.

"I miss you. And I know I have no right to say it, Y/N. I really don't. But you know why, yeah? I had to."

"You could've told me." Her voice was barely above a whisper, and it sounded no where near as confident as she usually was.

"I know. I'm sorry baby." Guilt was written over his face as he apologised. The nickname felt familiar as it reached her ears, and she inhaled deeply at how inviting it sounded.

"Look- I just couldn't sleep. If we drive back now we still have maybe three hours to catch up on-"

Hold on, you- you want me to come with you?" She interrupted him, her eyes wide with incredulity at his request.

"Would you? You know I sleep best with you next to me." His statement was so softspoken and honest, it made her heart flutter.

She nodded apprehensively.

But she knew what it meant: they would figure it out. They would be okay, together.

#Jack grealish #Jack grealish oneshot #jack grealish x reader #jack grealish imagine #jack grealish fanfic

[murasakispace]

Adam/Shindo Ainosuke X Male Reader

Author's note : Adam needs a bit of love, don't you think? A little love that doesn't imply to hurt Tadashi. It doesn't prevent that it is certainly crap. English is not my main language and it must be awful.

Warnings : NSFW, spanking, degradation and all the BDSM pack.

You were a newcomer, a rookie here. In S. You had the time to watch the local legends fall from their safe sky on the large screens. The most incredible was the race against Langa. Well... You were still wondering if his name was really Langa. Maybe you misunderstood, hidden in your shadows. First Joe, then Cherry and finally Adam. You had to admit their style was eclectic. Even them had to learn again. They were believing themselves as gods because they were the founders of a clandestin course. It made you shrug a little while you were observing them.

People were people. Here, in S, freedom was at its most powerful. A place were no one could say, order to someone something he doesn't want to do. Everything was ruled by skateboard and the people's talent. You were quite happy of that. Because of an accident years ago in mountains with your motorbike while you were heading to the summit so as to practice snowboard. You had the ambition to reach the Winter Olympic Games in half-pipe. You fell from a cliff and you miraculously landed meters below with broken ribs instead of your backbone.

During years you suffered and your dream of medals in the Olympic Games was gone, vanished into the air. Your well-known recklessness almost hurried you in your grave. In the hospital, you spent the last three years to reeducate with an omnipresent pain in your back, anger against the people who had forgotten you when you would have given them your soul if they asked for it an ended alone. You nearly lost your mind when you woke up from coma and nothing appeared in front of you. You weren't able to see anymore. Time went by and you found yourself offered the chance to remedy to your blindness. But it doomed you to wear particular sunglasses every day of your life. A little cost considering what you've been through.

You suffered. You were still aching but less than these last month. Moreover you felt better each day passing. Only eternal scars remain. And to be here in S got you like you were free as much as before your accident. And you would thank Adam for this. Yet, you meant nothing, watching the same scenes which were playing in front of your eyes.

You were sitting on your motorbike far behind the last people composing the crowds ahead of you. Actually, the last time you came at S was when Adam had been defeated. Since then, you weren't coming as often as you should now. Everything was more peaceful and Adam abandoned this bad habit to smash people in the face with his own skateboard. Of course, the blue-haired show-off would never stop to make his little shows and big entrances. You don't think that one day his "hey bitches and bros and non-binary hoes" would leave your mind so easily.

Yet, even if you admired Adam as an remarkable skater, you wouldn't prevent yourself to hate him for everything he was aside all of it. He was "in love" as he told to anyone who would like to hear it with his partners of race. It was nothing like love. You didn't know how you manage to not go through the crowds to slap him right in the face. He didn't understand. He wouldn't anyway. Love is sweet, a fluttering sentiment which set upside-down your guts and your soul. It wasn't how you remembered this wonderful thing.

Anyways, Adam had been defeated by a rookie that you had the power to crush on a snowboard. Even if he was talented, had he the talent of someone able to go in the Olympic Games? You didn't think so. You had yourself a modified board. And right now before the attended race between two opponents, you were as if you were playing on the half-pipe near the start of the race.

You were jumping even higher than this little rookie and executing figures in air that were turning sick some of the people gathered in your audience. You were hearing the slight gasps of awe coming from several girls watching them. Even Langa applaused you in the distance with an annoying smile. That little group comprehending Shadow, Reki, Langa, Miya and the others was sincerely uselessly noisy. Though, they were sometimes giving you back a smile you had long forgotten it was existing. But you didn't care anymore. You were busy with your "switched back flip with nose grab" and to make people applause even louder around you.

They were kind and cute because even if the trick wasn't so hard, doing it on a skateboard was something else. And it earned you the nickname of Eagle in S. You were impressive to say the least and people were clearly stunned. What you didn't expect was to attract the boss' attention here. Adam. Actually, his little grieves left you as if you were like marble.

Not only was he sticking to you but he also was quite insisting in his behavior. You didn't like him at all. It may have been the second or the third night that you came on the half-pipe of S. No one challenged you that time. You just shrugged your shoulders and were going on the way to leave this place. The pressure, the people gathered here, the races and the clear lack of delicacy from them made you get away from here. A sort of repulsion ordered you to go away. A skatepark would be big enough to allow you to do the same show for any passerby. After all what was the point of tiring yourself by skating if no one could applause for your demonstration of pure talent. And today, several nights after Adam's defeat, you were leaving S for good this time. It has no point for you to stay.

Yet, Adam didn't want the same. He was observing you before Langa. So he caught you up while lights were dancing around him.

"Mmh... What a wonderful little bird I see here. Don't be scared my dove, I'm not going to bite you." Adam said both loudly and sensually, thus it made crowds look in the same moment towards you.

A heavy silence has just fallen onto the crowds. You have heard the wheels of Adam's skateboard behind you. And he came, leaving his hand on your hips, getting you closer and closer to him. You could feel his hands roaming and doing delicate circles on the fabric of your clothes. Such an intimate action while you could almost feel his head rest on your shoulder. He made a little comment about your scent. Does this man have really no shame ?

"Aren't you tired of your own bullshit, Adam? Losing once wasn't enough to bring humility in you?" you snapped back while the man gazed at you.

"Never, my sweet, stubborn little dove" Ainosuke whispered in your ear while his hands were circling around your waists.

His sweet, gentle, poisonous tone was near to give you shivers. You weren't able to discern within yourself if it was a sort of trespassing desire that was boiling in you or a fire of rage and the deep will to smash him with your skateboard. Probably both. Let's agree on the fact that this man was a living invitation to luxury and rough love. You were just a little smaller than him but strong enough to make him comply and kneel in front of you like a slut. You clicked your tongue and forcefully escaped from Adam's treacherous embrace.

"Alright Eagle. I challenge you into a beef" Adam called behind you.

"Carry on" You answered back while the crowds become immediately silent were watching you with great interest.

"A race. You and me. Right now. The loser become the slave of his opponent." Adam added with his usual disturbing smile.

For one of the first times since you were coming in S, it was one of your first beefs. Moreover, with the boss of all that mess. And finally, it involved something hidden behind all of this display. And you liked it. Why not enjoying fully the race and the aftermath. You used the back extremity of your skateboard you hit Adam in the belly and making him move backwards. You were almost ecstatic. You walked calmly until the start line, put lightly your skateboard on the ground and set your foot on the deck while you were waiting for Adam to come. Obviously, he made his way towards you.

"Mmh... I'll enjoy to turn you upside down after this race" Adam sensually whispered.

"Your self-confidence will kill you one day, filthy man" you replied with a dry tone.

"Let's say that now that I've lost my Eve, the only person in S having my attention is you my little dove. Be ready, I'm not going to be easy on you"

These last sentences would the death of you. His magma-like voice was burning your insides. How can someone warm you up so efficiently? That was a mystery. But you liked it. Adam was well-known to be kinky. You hated a little yourself at that time. You were falling for an insane guy who is now targeting you. Obviously, it was not in a romantic way. Yet, Adam remained a reachable fanstasm. And you were apparently one of his. The green fire came rapidly, thus the start of the race.

Adam became fastly the first. You forgot about everything and just tried to have fun. You were skating as if your board was a part of yourself, dodging rocks and Adam's attack. You knew very well that he didn't change that much after his first defeat here. He even did his little thing of holding you close to him with the sort of horns on his skateboard.

" I love the movement of your hips, so agile, so smooth, I can't prevent myself to wonder what it will feel like to love you fully until you will ache for attention under my touch. You are a snowboarder too, right?" Adam asked more or less.

"You could say that. But I'm not like that kid. I prefer half-pipes. Besides, you have really no shame, haven't you? Anyways, goodbye."

You increased your speed and left Adam behind. You were jumping the cliffs where the turns formed the shape of a snake with the lights in the night. While you were flying, you were shining with more and more complicated figures and graceful landings, making you significantly ahead of the blue-haired holy creature named Adam. He managed very quickly to catch you up. A little smile was playing on your lips. That was funny to see him a little bit in difficulty.

You were provoking him. That was unbelievable and remarkably bold of you to do so. You annoying smile was allowing to build desire and longing in Adam's heart. He was the king and yet, a little dove was playing with him shamelessly. Adam was so mesmerized by your own race that he barely realized he was in the factory. The screams of the people gathered in there dragged him from his thoughts. He saw you fly until the finish line and cross it. You win against him. A huge silent welcomed him.

"One of the first things you have not to lose when you run is your own concentration. I don't know what happened to you but it doesn't prevent that you weren't really skating. So for the beef, I cancel the slave thing." You declared when Adam went towards you.

You turned your back to him and headed to your motorbike followed by the blue-haired man. You didn't want to stay any longer. Adam's footsteps were soft behind yours.

"How can you cancel the slave thing, as you called it?" Adam demanded.

Seeing that he didn't have any answer, Adam reached you to catch your shoulder and make you turn to look at him.

"Because I'm the winner" you responded with a threatening tone.

"So having me doesn't interest you?" Adam questioned with a spark of deception.

"I didn't say that" you replied with a playful half-smile crossing your lips.

You were surrounded by darkness and no one cared anymore about you. For the people, you were remedying with your little issues about the beef. Nothing very interesting for them. Your hand climbed Adam's tensed thigh before going backwards to his ass and caressing it shamelessly. You heard the man getting a heavier breath and mumbling sinner sentences in your ear. You didn't even move when he came closer to enjoy the caress.

"Adam... You are such a slut... Look at you, you sound like a virgin discovering sex" You told with an incredible amount of heat on your voice.

You left your fingers coming down on his half-hard dick and rub it lightly. Just enough to give shivers to the man.

"Horny, aren't we?" you carried on while Adam was melting under your touch.

It was only simple caresses yet the man in front of you was letting himself go as if you were escaping and he won't have anymore opportunities to have you so close.

"More" demanded Adam while he has finally what he wanted so hard.

But you stopped here, creating frustration in the man.

"There's a love hotel down Crazy Rock. Come with your Grim Reaper costume." You requested with an overbearing tone.

Adam ordered to Tadashi who wasn't present in S that night to bring him to this place and the black clothes he was wearing against Langa. Once arrived in the building, he headed towards the receptionist who led him until the room. The space was dark and very classical for a love hotel but it was enough to arouse Adam. He felt as if your hands were still on him while he was changing his red costume. The memory of your hands trailing down his back to reach his ass and caressing it shamelessly was still unbelievably strong in his mind. Then he felt the touch join his cock, gently but still enough to make surrender to your touch. He desired you so much right now. Once he wore his Grim Reaper clothes, he laid down the mattress. He let himself go to the warmth he was feeling. He already wanted you so hard. He thought he was still dreaming when he felt the sudden touch of your hand on his neck.

"Ready to cum due to a shameless imagination. What a dirty little pet we have here. Were you planning to touch while you would wait for me? " You whispered in Adam's ear, getting him to have goosebumps.

Your fingers went down along his spine then reached the start of his ass. You were riding him from behind, each of your legs apart Ainosuke's body. You spanked his cheeks violently when you see you wouldn't get your answer, making the man moaning of both pain and pleasure.

"Use your tongue. You still have one, right?" you picked up after this unwanted silence.

"Yes" mumbled the submitted man.

"Louder. I don't hear you."you commanded.

"Yes"

He was speaking at the volume you wanted to listen. Loudly but not enough to disturb people out there.

"Better" you acknowledged with a neutral tone.

You got away from the position you have over Ainosuke. You were looking for the bad you brought with you. In the corner of your eye, you remarked the presence of a mirror. It could be useful but not now. You were secretly impatient to play with the king of S. You glanced at him and couldn't prevent a half-smile on your face. His hips were slightly higher than what would be normal. The blue-haired man was aching for your touch. Unhappily, it seemed sometimes you weren't as mean as some of masters with their human pet when it comes to tough, rough and painful but delicious sex. Well... It didn't matter actually. Your beautiful puppy lying on the mattress would love it anyway. You sincerely enjoyed the fact that this natural dominant male was completely under your control.

"Get up and kneel. Be rid of your clothes and keep your eyes on the wall. If you look at me I leave you here, tied and with a toy in your ass until you faint. Is that clear?" You ordered with a severe voice.

You didn't get any answer immediately.

"Yes". You heard behind you.

"Yes who?" You added.

"Yes Master" Adam ended while he just worked to be in his knees over the blankets.

The man got rid of his suit not so quickly. The fabric was comfortable and smooth, suiting perfectly his body. The memory of your touch was almost disappearing with him leaving aside all the clothes. He ended naked on the bed, his pale skin revealed to the air. He kept his eyes locked on the wall and he didn't have any access to the mirror to watch what you were doing. He only heard some noises somewhere behind him. Adam was shivering litghtly because of anticipation. He didn't want you to be kind with him. The rougher the better. Anyways, love and pain were both the faces of a coin, right? He submits but you serve.

Ainosuke felt your hand climbing along his leg and rest a few seconds on his thigh. You slided a lubed toy in his hole. You went as deeply as you could without bruising you pet and without leaving without any sensations. His insides were slightly stretched enough to emphasize the rubbing which you started from a few feets away.

You had the time to change in a black leathery pants and high boots, all black, with an open shirt lazily flying along your sides. After that, you were just watching Ainosuke's nakedness from behind. He was well-shaped. You couldn't say more. And this beautiful insane man was craving for your attention. You knew the effect the toy had. The more Adam was holding back his moan, the more the toy is going to make him lose his mind. You knew very well that the man had a certain endurance. Yet, it had no effect when the right points within his body were touched and loved.

You were still gentle. You could be more cruel and less careful about your little pet. Adam knew it very well. He was sure he looked like a little virgin taking pleasure for the first time but the thing inside of him suppressed all of his strength. He was grunting and moaning like a whore and he loved it. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't you.

"More..." Breathed the man while his whole body was totally shaking.

"More? Really?" you asked while you were enjoying the frustration on Adam's face and the red hue on his cheeks.

"Inside me... Touch me..."you went to caress Ainosuke's naked ass before spanking it another time.

"You have no permission to cum, dirty pet. I'll punish you otherwise."you warned with a threatening tone in your voice.

The heat was slightly consuming the blue-haired man and pleasure was way too heavy for him, almost choking sometimes. You would be the death of him if it carried on.

"Please..."Adam silently begged while you were heading to an armchair not far away from the display in front of you.

Were you sadistic? Probably. You had one of your legs hanging on the side of your seat and watching Ainosuke fighting the destroying pleasure inside of him. You were so desirable. No one would ever say the contrary. It was only the start for your adorable pet. But it wasn't enough for you.

"Come here." You commanded with a monotonous but commanding tone in your voice.

You saw Adam moving to reach you. He stumbled on the few meters he had to make to come at you. He knelt in front of you but it sounded more like he wasn't able to carry his own weigh. He was looking up at you with eyes tainted of pleasure. He caressed your legs as any good cat would do to please his master and get some food or any touch. Your hand reached his chin and you lift it without any delicacy. A few more and Adam was going to surrender and leaving himself being overwhelmed by pleasure. His red eyes were blurry and full of lust and you locked yours on his. Your hand went in his hair and you brought him closer to you.

"Take it. And do it well, slut" you requested with an overbearing tone.

You felt shaking hands roaming over your leather pants and undo the belts resting on your hips. His fingers freed your half-hard dick but he was too slow.

"Faster" you ordered.

Adam put his finger on the skin of your shaft, then his lips. You hardly held back a grunt of pleasure while you were feeling his hot mouth around your cock. That was divine but not enough. You settled your fingers in Ainosuke's hair and pulled it closer.

"Come on, slut"

The blue-haired man wasn't slow but it wasn't fast enough and it frustrated you. You ordered him for more speed and he did it. Adam was all focus on your pleasure, worshipping you with his tongue and his lips. It was warm inside his mouth. You wanted to dirty your sub with your seeds and make him feel like a doll in your hands. Besides, you increased the speed of the toy inside Adam's ass. He was fighting tou bring you pleasure and not to cum. His whole body must ache but you didn't really care. You wanted more. You helped a little Ainosuke with his movements. His tongue was caressing you shamelessly, and he was all focused on you. You were almost fucking his throat.

"You are really a whore my pet. Worse than a dog in heat. Loot at you"

You led his eyes to the mirror not far from you. Adam moaned when he saw the image of himself. The red hue on his cheeks while he was taking your cock into his mouth. The sight was mesmerizing. Then, lower, the pre-sperm was dripping from his own sex. Adam wasn't able to suffer it anymore and the last image had been the death of his limits and he cummed lankily on the ground. His muscles all tensed relaxed in a few seconds. He spilled his white liquid everywhere at the bottom of the armchair while he was moaning with your shaft still in his throat.

You raised your hand and gave him an echoing slap which made the blue-haired man fall on his back, covered of his dirty sperm. You perceived Adam hard cock raising between his legs.

"Kinky whore. You are not even able to handle it, right? Such a disobedient little puppy. You'll be punished, you know that, aren't you?" you threatened with a sweet voice, penetrating under Ainosuke's flesh.

You were watching your pet getting up from his position on the ground.

"Be happy that I'm not going to order you to lick it, silly kitten. On the bed, now. Twenty whiplash, and if you are not obedient, I'll double that number. Understood?"

"Please Master, no!" Adam surprisingly begged with and hoarse voice to you.

"This is the cost for your insolence and disobedience. It could be a hundred so take what I allow you" You replied without any softness.

You gave the order to your dog to be astride on the bed, on all four. Adam settled over the blankets and stayed still. The man heard you get the tool in your hand. And without telling him, he felt a painful burn on his ass, followed by your hand which rubbed it. Ainosuke heard himself grunt to the sudden soothing caress.

"It was the first. I won't be that kind after. Count them. At any mistake, It'll be thirty"

You blowed him again and your sub was counting but it was painful and red traces were appearing on his skin. You weren't soft with him and appreciated his delicious reactions of suffering and adoration. The toy was still in his ass, driving him crazy from both inside and outside. Adam wasn't able to keep up anymore and at the end on the punishment, he fell over the blankets, naked, full of shame, pleasure and love. He was crying due to the overwhelming amount of feelings. His shaft was so hard that it was painful and he wanted freedom from you. His pants were perceptible in the silence of the room. The blue-haired man felt your hand on his ribcage and forcefully turn him on his back.

He saw climb over the mattress and settle near him. Your finger roamed over your pet's belly and touch his nipples, making him shiver and grunt. Your softness was welcome for Adam. His body was aching due to tension and slaps but pleasure was still present in his blood and adrenaline was keeping him conscious. Suddenly, the toy Ainosuke had in his ass had a different movement, more intense, more rubbing and making him moan loudly.

"Did you seriously think it was ended?" you questioned with a playful tone. "No. Of course not".

You got up and put yourself in a riding way. You pushed your shaft inside Adam's mouth and start to fuck his throat again. Fingers curling down the sheets and becoming white. Your sub was testifying of this pleasure. And you were too. Your hips were getting faster and faster and Adam's eyes were rolling backwards while pleasure was burning him. You were silently moaning and keeping your features still but it was hard when your little pet's tongue was that agile and smart to find the areas able to make you shudder. It felt like eternity till you finally cummed inside of Ainosuke's mouth. Your sub swallowed everything and as a reward you ordered him to change of position and to rest on his belly. You removed the toy from his ass and caressed it softly.

"Master..." called quietly Adam.

"Mmh?" you responded with distance in your behavior towards him.

"Please. Fuck me." begged silently the man.

Where was Adam, the king of S, almost undefeated? Where was the show-off, the insane guy? You knew very well where he was. He was subdued to every of your desire now, drunken by pain and pleasure, knocked by envy. He wanted you in the simplest way. The incubus became the innocent virgin and you were his master. Nothing was left from the skater man that you met at the nightfall. He was just a body aching for softness after a hardship, pleading for quietness now. And more sincere than he never had been until tonight. He needed you.

"Please Master..." whispered again Adam.

But his begging stopped when Adam felt your dick against his hole. A slight moan escaped from him and you started to bury yourself in him. His insides were warm and comfortable but so tight. The rubbing was divine and you could help yourself but start to fuck his ass very slowly to push him to worship you. Adam had his hips hanging a little in air as you were thrusting to give you both an amazing amount of pleasure.

"P-Please Master... More..." moaned Adam while you were almost hitting his ass.

It was so nice to see the man so submitted to his needs coming from you. You couldn't help yourself but started to thrust more and more quickly and fastly. The sound of your flesh against each other was echoing in the room and you liked it. You got rougher and rougher but it was still nice and finally, you let yourself be. You felt Adam's hole tightening around your shaft for the second time. Your hands slide down his hips to find his own sex so as to apply languid caresses. It was too much for him and his muscled yet thin body sank on the bed and you followed him in his climax not long after him.

You were panting heavily and your pet was actually nearly fainting. You took him into a warm embrace and rubbed his skin to soothe him. You didn't have the time for a real aftercare because he fell asleep immediately. You would wait him to take a needed shower. For the time that you had, you left him be.

Adam had been a wonderful sub. You were happy. But you didn't have the intention to stay with him. If he wanted you, then maybe you should have a more serious and deeper conversation. But now, it wasn't what you wanted.

#sk8 adam #anime #anime boy #bad guy #ainosuke shindo x reader #sk8 ainosuke #shindo ainosuke #sk8 renga #miya chinen #sk8 miya #matcha blossom #sk8 scenarios #sk8edit #bxb #male reader #villain #lovers

[arigatouiris]

animal instincts // inosuke x reader

Author’s Note: Another draft pick hahahahah. I headcanon that Inosuke is like this when he’s in love~ My poor misunderstood rough boi who deserves nothing but the world! I hope ya’ll like this, I put some effort into this one hahahaha. Thanks for reading!!

Word count: 4069

Pairing: Hashibira Inosuke x Reader

Warnings: fluff, slight spice (things get a bit heated here UwU) idk, slight angst, SPOILERS FOR THE KIMETSU MANGA

Zenitsu had a question plaguing his mind ever since (y/n) (l/n) came into his life. Not that he didn’t try wooing her and asking her to marry him, no, she turned him down rather decently and kindly, which forced him to think of her as a good friend. She was a demon slayer herself, having hailed from the same training that Kanao went through. 

As sweet and loving as she was, (y/n) could be just as violent; albeit, Zenitsu and the gang had only seen this side when she fought demons. Her violence was through a silent battle that she knew she would win, and her swordplay was fascinating to the eye. Her mother was a dancer, somewhat similar to Tanjiro’s father, and her mother had taught her everything she needed to know about dance.

However, life wasn’t too kind. (y/n) lost her mother when she was 12 and had been training under Shinobu to become a demon slayer since. She had learned the breath of the flower from Shinobu, but developed her own style scheme by performing different moves through dance. It was, to say the least, impressive.

(y/n) and Inosuke shared a rather weird relationship. 

The first time they met was in between their missions. All four of them were surrounded by a total of seven demons. Inosuke stepped in wanting to be the one to take down everyone, but quietly, (y/n) held him back (almost yelled at but the second Inosuke’s gaze met hers, he grew strangely quiet, which was unlike him). 

     “We need to plan this out. When you’re cornered, you don’t attack head-on. That’s suicide.”

She turned to Inosuke’s mask and grinned, “You’re better alive than dead, right?”

Zenitsu didn’t miss the fuwa fuwa that came out of his boar friend right then, but he was shitting his pants for something else entirely. It was after that did she introduce herself, rather peppily, and seemed like the most happy-go-lucky person they had ever laid their eyes on. Inosuke seemed particularly soft with her, which was very unlike him, but no one made any comment about it. 

     “So Inosuke, why did you become a demon slayer?” (y/n) asked, with a chirpy voice.

Zenitsu and Tanjiro watched as the white puffballs around Inosuke grew in number but the male grunted and walked away, leaving (y/n) there with a confused but happy smile.

     “What happened?”

Zenitsu hit himself on the forehead.

The thing that Zenitsu’s mind was plagued with was this: How would Inosuke behave if he was in love with someone?

For this, he’d need to understand how animals behaved. When an animal finds a potential mate, the male of the species would perform a series of activities in order to impress the female of the species. Like, in birds, the male bird would perform a wide range of dance moves or hops to impress the female, who would display her interest by signalling in and chirping accordingly.

Cut to what they were doing a few weeks ago. They were at the butterfly estate, all four of them, and Tanjiro and (y/n) were talking about him selling charcoal for a living. She was a good listener, and for Tanjiro, it was nice to be heard for a change. Perhaps, in Inosuke’s mind, Tanjiro was another male boar, showcasing his skills (Zenitsu wondered if ‘kindness’ can count as a skill) and (y/n) was considering him. Inosuke however, had a better skill—brisk loudness, and the ability to have anyone’s eye on him for longer durations of time because he was just that distracting.

     “(y/n)!” 

Ah yes, he also never forgot her name for a strange reason, but she only thought that was because he didn’t deem her a threat.

(y/n) were right, in a way.

She turned her head toward Inosuke who was holding his two swords near the courtyard. Zenitsu stood a few feet away from where (y/n) and Tanjiro sat, and watched with an unimpressed expression on his face. This wasn’t amusing in the slightest for the blond, for he had seen men pile up over women and behave in a way they otherwise wouldn’t do. But, in Inosuke’s case, it was definitely...weird.

Upon receiving (y/n)’s attention, Inosuke flipped his blades around in the air and did a few stunts, causing (y/n)’s eyes to widen with absolute amusement. Tanjiro smiled a tad bit, before turning to a disgruntled Zenitsu, and understanding thus what was going on. 

     “Whoa, that’s amazing, Inosuke!” (y/n) said, clapping her hands together.

Tanjiro noticed the white fluff balls come out of the boar boy’s head as his actions suddenly stopped. He might have been raised an animal, but Tanjiro’s heart melted at the realization that Inosuke craved the feelings of attention and kindness from people around him, just as much as he wanted to prove himself superior. Inosuke felt a range of things with the two of them, but with (y/n), he certainly felt softer. And whatever the reason might be, Tanjiro believed his friend deserved it—the boy was pure at heart. 

Coming back to the theory Zenitsu had. Tanjiro approached the boy that evening before having a quick word with him over Inosuke’s obsession with impressing you. Both of them knew that it was more than a crush, but it was also quite out of character. While Tanjiro could swallow Inosuke’s need to be softer with her, Zenitsu thought Inosuke believed it was a competition.

     “Well,” Tanjiro pondered, “It might be, in his head. That was how he was raised and that’s how he thinks? Maybe, if we don’t prove a threat to him, he’ll learn better on understanding how to communicate his feelings.”

Zenitsu scoffed, “That idiot won’t know what feelings are if it hit him on his face like a brick. He thinks like an animal!”

Tanjiro chuckled, “Doesn’t mean animals can’t love,” He turned to spot Inosuke and (y/n) in an animated conversation about butterflies, “Most often, they love better than the rest of us.”

Therefore, the two of them decided to watch Inosuke. Zenitsu did it for his own amusement, but Tanjiro enjoyed merely understanding his friend’s nature. There were three things that Inosuke had to fall under if he were in love with (y/n)—and this was all based on observation. Tanjiro knew how animals thought and behaved to a fair extent, and with his knowledge, analysing Inosuke’s behavior around her seemed like the perfect study.

#1. One mate is territorial over the other.

Zenitsu approached (y/n) one evening, wanting to call her over for dinner. She turned to the blond before waving at him, and having him sit beside her. 

     “Hi, Zenitsu-kun. Is there something you need?”

He wondered where his boar friend was at that second. There was no point to this exercise if Inosuke wasn’t around. Not that he minded having a conversation with (y/n), she was sweet. He turned to her after realizing Inosuke wasn’t around and wondered what she thought of him. 

     “So, Inosuke,” She blinked at his words, “He’s weird, right?”

     “Not at all. I think he’s really sweet.” 

Zenitsu blinked, “Really? Even though he doesn’t understand a lot of social cues? It’s because he was raised in the mountains—”

     “I find that bit fascinating, actually. Even though he was raised in the mountains, he’s so kind.”

     “How is he kind?” Zenitsu grumbled.

(y/n) blinked at the blond’s question. 

     “Do you...not like Inosuke-kun?”

Zenitsu shook his head, “It’s not like that, I just think he’s too much sometimes. Abrasive and rash—it’s like taking care of a loud kid!”

She giggled, “I like that about him! Keeps things lively.”

Zenitsu wasn’t sure now on who the weird one was. With (y/n) defending Inosuke like her life depended on it, it was certain that even she had a soft spot for the boy. But, he couldn’t tell if it was built out of sympathy or romantic feelings like he had. She was just kind, maybe, she defended Zenitsu behind his back (although this thought made him swoon on the inside). 

     “Where is he anyway?” (y/n) grumbled, frowning a bit.

It was at that second when Tanjiro came to the courtyard. (y/n) greeted the brown haired boy before blinking up at him. 

     “Tanjiro-kun, have you seen Inosuke-kun?”

Tanjiro hummed before saying, “Hm, I think he left with Kanao-chan somewhere?”

Zenitsu ‘ah’ed before understanding where the boar boy had gone now. Kanao and Inosuke had been training together for a bit, it wasn’t strange since Inosuke always wanted to get stronger than the others. With Tanjiro having beaten Kanao in that little game, Inosuke wanted to do the same. The boy thought everything was a competition. 

     “Oh?”

Tanjiro almost didn’t notice it, but it was good that he was great at capturing certain scents. Growing up with so many siblings had him understand how to differentiate between the scents of various emotions. When (y/n) stood up, waved to them and left, Tanjiro chuckled, catching Zenitsu’s attention. He wasn’t always certain about a lot of things, but he was sure that he had caught the right scent here.

     “What’s so funny?”

It was the scent of jealousy, he thought before shaking his head.

#2.  One mate tries to impress the other by being the best they can be.

Zenitsu hated missions, and he especially hated them when he had to go with Inosuke. However, the only thing holding his sanity together was that (y/n) had offered to tag along—since her crow was nowhere to be found. Inosuke was thrilled and secretly so was the blond, because now Inosuke seemed controllable. He didn’t know how it worked, but he was glad that it did.

They were to head to a village to find a demon behind a few missing people. Apparently, these people headed to work one day and never returned—and this being near a river, there were chances that this demon resided under water.

     “Can you swim, (y/n)-chan?” 

     “Yes, actually. I didn’t learn it the easy way, though. Shinobu-san basically threw me into the river and forced me to learn the hard way.” She said, dejectedly.

     “When you’re about to drown, your body learns to float!” Inosuke yelled, catching your attention.

     “Y-Yeah, I mean, I was the first one to learn too! Inosuke, I also know what plants you can eat from under water!”

     “You can eat underwater plants?!”

     “Yes! I’ll show you someday! When they’re added into your food, it’s so delicious!”

He couldn’t understand where the fuwa fuwa was coming from now—Zenitsu noticed that the fluffballs were everywhere. He wasn’t sure which mate was trying to impress the other here. 

Tanjiro, Zenitsu thought, who exactly is the animal here? 

He normally never did this, but Zenitsu was curious beyond belief! Therefore, he shut his eyes, paused for a brief moment and let his ears do the detective work. All he could hear were sounds of two hearts fluttering in harmony, an image stuck to his brain that he couldn’t wipe off (and if he was a softer, more mature individual, he would admit that the image was a rather sweet one), but Zenitsu being Zenitsu hated the fact that his mountain boy friend was in love with a sweet crackhead like (y/n)—who in retaliation was in love with a mountain boy as well.

#3. A manner of softness not seen anywhere else.

It was strange to see Inosuke being quiet—it was either only when he was in deep sleep or deep thought (which was very, very rare indeed). However, the mountain boy grew quiet a lot these days; especially because (y/n) hung out a lot whenever the boys were around. He’d watch her, observing her movements, trying to replicate whatever ‘decent’ moves she made like trying to eat with chopsticks or not wearing the mask as much when she’s around.

In all honestly, it was quite evident that Inosuke tried being a human being around her and it was sweet, Tanjiro noted, that he’d try so hard to accommodate to (y/n). 

However, Zenitsu didn’t think it was sweet. He wanted to vomit inside his mouth each time he thought of the boar boy being in love, particularly because it was the sort of love that was rare even for civilized people. The blond always had trouble finding people who accepted him for being who he was, and here was someone like Inosuke—whose personality was somehow revered instead of being shunned. 

What the hell is going on? He thought, grumbling, as he witnessed (y/n) crawl over to Inosuke, as if to sneak up on the boy. Normally, Zenitsu would have yelled and alerted his friend, but he just didn’t care anymore—it was comical, and he’d let it be.

     “Inosuke!” (y/n) pounced on the boar boy from the back, tackling him to the ground, surprising him.

Inosuke blinked, his face a dark red, before screaming in playful anger. 

     “What the hell are you doing?!”

     “Fight me!”

Inosuke’s eyes widened just for a brief moment before he growled and tackled her back, causing her to giggle and try to escape the boar boy’s advances. Now, he was chasing her around the estate, something little animals do when they play with one another. Tanjiro smiled at the sight before Zenitsu noticed fluffballs come around him.

I’ve had enough of this.

Walking over to his boar friend, he grabbed the boy from the back of his mask before yanking it off in one go. Inosuke would never mind beating the living daylight out of his blond friend, but the expression Zenitsu had just then caused him to still his movements. (y/n) paused before blinking up at Zenitsu, tilting her head slightly at the sudden halt.

     “Zenitsu-kun? Is something wrong?”

     “You two are what’s wrong!”

Inosuke growned, “What? You wanna—”

     “NO! I don’t want to fight! Do you honestly not see what’s going on here?!” 

(y/n) giggled before saying, “Inosuke and I are just fooling around—”

     “I thought we were fighting—”

     “We are, but it isn’t a fight where we hurt each other.”

     “Yes! I was thinking the same thing!”

Zenitsu slapped his forehead. He pointed to Inosuke and then pointed to (y/n). Tanjiro approached them before placing a calm hand on his blond friend. 

     “You are clearly in love with her and you are clearly in love with him!”

Inosuke didn’t look like he understood what Zenitsu had blurted out, but (y/n) was civilized where Inosuke wasn’t and just then Zenitsu had called her out rather harshly—but, it was the kind of harsh that was perhaps justified. Her eyes widened and she turned to spot Inosuke grab the blond and put him in a choke hold, but her movements stilled. She looked up to Tanjiro who gave her a kind smile before she bit her lip.

Of course she knew she loved Inosuke. Of course, she wasn’t blind. Ever since she first laid eyes on the beast boy, her mind was picked, her heart was his, and her body did things on its own—wanting to impress him, wanting to stand out and make sure Inosuke remembers her name instead of anyone else’s; she wanted to be special to him, and from all her tries, she was bound to know that her feelings for him were nothing short of romantic. 

However, could he perceive romance? Could Inosuke know what these feelings were and could he act on them? Was she the only one making the effort here? She turned to spot Inosuke fighting with Zenitsu the same way he was fighting with her and she began to wonder, ‘What if I’m actually no different?’

Tanjiro smelled the sudden hesitance radiating off of her, but before she could get anywhere, he approached her.

     “(y/n)-chan, I’m sure Inosuke feels the same way—”

     “Tanjiro-kun,” (y/n) wasn’t sure where the sudden hesitance grew inside her. “I just... I need to figure some things out on my own before I...” She turned to spot Inosuke taking off his mask, growling at the blond. 

She gave him a soft smile, confusing the hell out of him, before walking back inside the estate. 

     “Where’s she going?” Inosuke asked, blinking at her retrieving figure.

Tanjiro turned to his friend, curious. 

     “What do you feel for (y/n)-chan, Inosuke?”

     “HAH?” 

     “That’s what I’ve been trying to get him to talk about! But he keeps tackling me!” Zenitsu yelled from the background.

     “What feel for her? She’s (y/n)!”

Tanjiro’s eyes widened almost comically at how Inosuke remembered her name so accurately. 

     “Why do you remember her name so well?”

     “She’s important!”

Tanjiro blinked some more, “Important how?”

Inosuke growled, losing interest in this conversation, “(y/n) is...” He couldn’t find her and that bothered him. He looked to where she had gone off to before frowning some more.

     “Inosuke,” Tanjiro’s soft voice broke his reverie. “Do you love her?”

He didn’t know what love was, but there were a few things Inosuke was sure of. Whenever he saw (y/n), he wanted to be around her more—just like the pair of wolves he had come across as a child. The male wolf would wind its neck under the female’s whenever it was cold, and it was something Inosuke saw himself doing with her, and no one else. He remembered the swans dancing around in the water with one another, attaching themselves by every inch of their feathers and Inosuke wanted nothing more than to learn how her skin felt against his. 

He recalled the group of monkeys that was led by a strong male and a fat female, which was fat because the male had given her his babies. One day, Inosuke dreamed of having little Inosuke babies with (y/n).

If this was what love was then what Inosuke felt for (y/n) was much, much more.

Growling, he ran off to where (y/n) might have gone, and noticed you sitting by the engawa. Taking off his mask, Inosuke sat beside her without warning, and noticed her red face. His eyes widened when he saw that expression on (y/n)—and all the thoughts he had were starting to vanish. Sure, the animals looked happy and did things he wanted to do, but no animal could compare to how beautiful she looked right then. He gulped before leaning closer to her, smelling her face—unsure of what to do at a time like this. Inosuke didn’t want to scare her, but he was confident that she would not be scared.

Zenitsu did not count a fourth thing that Inosuke would fall under if he was in love. The ability to change and adapt for a certain someone.

     “Inosuke, do you... do you know what love is?”

He didn’t, and he sure as hell was scared to tell her that he had no idea.

     “What I feel for you... I want to be around you all the time. I want to hold your hand and... and hold you in my arms and touch your hair—”

Inosuke grabbed (y/n)’s hand forcefully before placing it on his hair, but paused when he noticed her wince.

     “Did I hurt you?”

(y/n) smiled warmly, her heart beating rapidly as she shook her head, “I’m not sure if you know what love is, Inosuke...” 

He frowned, “I don’t know what to tell you.” 

He was an animal, born and raised in conditions that other people could have perhaps not survived. There was very little he knew about the ways of how human beings displayed affection. However, there was one way he was sure of—one way that could perhaps show her what he felt. Prove to her that whatever this love emotion was, it had nothing on him.

Because what Inosuke felt for (y/n) was far, far stronger than some stupid emotion.

He leaned forward and kissed her, grabbing the back of her hair. (y/n) had no idea where he had learned how to kiss, and even if he knew what this meant, but a second later, Inosuke’s tongue darted downwards to her neck, biting it lightly, marking the texture of her soft skin. His hand was firm behind her head and he pulled lightly, pressing her to him—before leaning back and capturing her lips again.

(y/n)’s eyes were wide and she was almost breathless; unsure of how to react, her hands slowly travelled to his hair and she buried her fingers in his hair, marvelling at how soft his locks were. She kissed back slowly, and did not miss the passion Inosuke brought forth with what he was doing. Once again, he pulled away before reaching her collarbone and biting lightly. The second (y/n) let out a soft moan, Inosuke stopped.

     “Do you feel warm?”

Her face rivalled a spider lily. Of course she felt warm!

Inosuke looked at her and smirked, “A male marks his female, in the mountains, this is how beasts mark their mates.”

(y/n)’s eyes widened. Mate? She blinked before grabbing his face and studying it, almost enthralled with what she had learned.

     “Inosuke, there is so much you need to learn!”

But, the second she thought of how his tongue travelled to her neck and collarbone, maybe, he didn’t have to learn much after all.

*

When Inosuke’s firstborn son turned out to be a bit timid, Inosuke acquired the ability—acting out on empathy. (y/n) watched him, hold his five-year old son after the boy had fallen off a small tree and hurt his knee.

     “This is going to sting,” Inosuke said, before putting some pressure on to the little boy’s wound, along with a raw medicine he had made to prevent any infection. 

The boy cried instantly, which caused Inosuke to turn to (y/n), who was cradling their third born daughter, with a smile on her face. He wouldn’t reveal to a great many people that watching his son wince and cry hurt his chest more than anything ever had, but watching (y/n) smile back at him, as he sat there with a smile on his face made him appreciate everything that was soft in the world.

He had stopped asking people to fight him because honestly, it turned exhausting. After having three children, Inosuke had had enough—he wanted to mellow down and sit back, smell his wife’s hair and watch their children grow. He often wondered how Tanjiro and the others were doing, and he thought of how the life in the city was not one for him at all. He hoped that their paths would cross one day, but turning to (y/n), as their youngest daughter cooed in (y/n)’s arms, Inosuke was at peace.

     “What are you staring at!? Fight me!”

Inosuke narrowed his eyes and turned to his three-year old girl, whose expressions and personality rivalled his own. He heard (y/n) chuckle from the back before ignoring her and getting up, grabbing the little girl by her ankle and having her dangle upside down.

     “This—”

     “Stop it, runt.” 

Oh, but he would not deny how much he adored that feisty little spirit of hers. She growled before pinching her father’s hold, causing him to abruptly let her go, as she landed on the ground with a ‘thud’. She got back up and rushed to her father, hands around his neck, Inosuke grumbling before picking her up. If only he had understood that his cries ‘fight me’ were a sign of being touch-starved, he’d have avoided a great many unnecessary fights.

     “Let me go—”

     “Shut up.”

Inosuke’s hand wrapped around his small daughter’s form before running it up and down on her back, calming her down. The child’s eyes widened before she quieted down, and returning her father’s embrace.

A small tug at his sleeve made him look at his son now, who gave him a needy look as well. Inosuke knelt down and picked up his boy, before hugging both of them, standing like a tree in the middle of the house.

     “Never thought you’d turn into such a softie, Inosuke!” (y/n) giggled, before expecting a shout or a loud comeback.

Instead, her eyes widened when she saw him smile at her, each hand cradling his children, as he watched her, with the softest eyes he could conjure.

Honestly, she could never let down the way he told her he loved her each day, not through words, not through mindless actions, but merely by looking at her like his entire life belonged to her. For a man raised in the mountains, Inosuke knew how to love better than the rest of humanity itself.

If only Zenitsu could see the man now, she thought, chuckling.

#inosuke hashibira #inosuke x reader #inosuke #inosuke hashibira x reader #hashibira inosuke x reader #hashibira inosuke #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #tanjiro kamado #agatsuma zenitsu #inosuke fluff #inosuke x y/n #kimetsu no yaiba spoilers #inosuke hashibira x y/n #demon slayer #best boy inosuke

[iloveyou3thousand]

what he’d been missing

Pairing: Starker Rating: Explicit Word count: 2668 A/N: This was written for the @starkerkink Kink Exchange, for @iammagicfishhook who asked for some monsterfucking. I really hope you like it!!

Tags/TWs: explicit sexual content, werewolf Tony and human Peter, werewolf sex, werewolf anatomy, belly bulge, knotting, rimming, bottom Peter

Read it on AO3 here!

—————————————————————————

It had taken them a little while, but they had finally figured it out.

Before they had gotten together, Peter had one day found out that Tony wasn’t like most people he knew. It had been entirely by accident, had happened only because Peter had been up later than usual working on a project. By chance, his extra sensitive hearing had picked up on something stalking the compound and he’d gone to investigate, only to find a large beast roaming the compound grounds.

That could have been that. The compound was in the middle of nowhere, after all, surrounded by woods that stretched for miles upon miles – the animal could have stumbled upon the building and gone to investigate.

Peter had quickly found out that the intruder hadn’t come from elsewhere, though. He’d come from within.

Weeks later, after dancing around each other for months with neither of them brave enough or confident enough to be the one to take the first real step forward, they got together with a kiss that was about as accidental as Peter finding out that Tony was a werewolf.

Tony allowed Peter to be nearby during his shifts, from that moment on. Peter had already seen him change before, had been near in the past, had seen him and approached him and gotten to know him a little better, in a sense. But now that they were together, it felt almost like it was more serious. Like being there during the full moon carried more weight than it did before.

And it did. Unbeknownst to the both of them, at least at first, the fact that Peter was there almost every time Tony shifted, changed something in the wolf’s biology. He had always responded differently to Peter, but that was only getting worse with every shift. On the outside, it didn’t appear like it had changed much, but on the inside, every time Tony shifted, he grew more and more restless to the point where even Peter started to notice it in his behavior.

Tony would always come up to Peter and push his head against the younger man’s hand for some quick affection, but that grew into a firmer push, a more demanding gesture, with Tony not leaving until he’d nearly pushed Peter to his ass and could rub himself against the other without fear of Peter getting away.

He also started grooming Peter, almost as if he were one of his own, as if he were a wolf, too. Or he would get snappy at anything and everything that could possibly pose a threat to Peter, from a little wild rabbit showing its little face at the edge of the woods to Happy’s car returning from the city to bring Pepper back and forth even just passing them by.

Peter tried not to think about it too much, but the growling and the protectiveness and the restlessness grew worse and worse every time, to the point where he just had to bring it up with Tony.

It took them a while and some help from Bruce to figure out that since getting together, Tony’s hormones had been all over the place. It’s what had been causing the change in his attitude, and the fierce protectiveness. According to the tests they’d done, Tony already viewed Peter as his true mate, even though that connection could never be truly mutual because Peter was human and he didn’t have the kind of senses to pick up on and return that.

At least it helped them in finding a solution.

Going forward, they started trying whatever they could to reassure Tony’s wolf that Peter was his and his alone, and that nothing would ever come in between them or sever the bond they had built. It seemed to work at first, with Tony calming down and resting quite peacefully with Peter during another one of his shifts, but then it came back again. And it came back with twice the force.

When it started to get potentially dangerous for Peter, they both knew that they were approaching desperate times, and thus would have to try and implement some desperate measures.

Luckily, Peter still had a little trick up his sleeve.

When he told Tony, Tony was skeptical. He was worried, for Peter, afraid of hurting him. But Peter countered wisely that if they didn’t try this as a last resort, if this didn’t work, then Tony would end up hurting Peter on accident anyway without there being anything that could stop him. That terrified Tony more than anything else.

All in all, Peter’s plan seemed like the lesser of two evils. (Actually, it didn’t seem like a bad idea at all, but Tony refused to admit that the thought of mounting Peter properly got him so riled up that he had to excuse himself every time he even so much as thought about it.)

The following full moon, they were all set.

In the hours leading up to Tony’s inevitable shift, they lay down together. Peter showered Tony in attention that made him visibly preen already, his instincts close to taking over, but the moon wasn’t quite high enough for him just yet. The younger man passed him a bottle of lube and Tony quietly reconfirmed that he was still sure about this. Peter smiled, cupped Tony’s cheek, and kissed him.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” he promised, although it didn’t do enough to soothe Tony’s anxiety. He was afraid of hurting Peter, afraid of putting his claws where he shouldn’t, or pushing him too far, or forcing him into something that he didn’t want to do. But Peter had been so reassuring, constantly validating Tony’s feelings and fears and acknowledging that it was going to be scary, but it was going to be alright. They just had to do this once to figure out how it all worked, and then they’d be good as gold.

Tony had to trust his instincts. Hopefully, his instincts would serve him right.

By the time Tony’s skin buzzed beyond discomfort and he’d slowly spread his baby open on his fingers, Peter gave him a kiss and told him to go and do what he had to. Tony’s feet could barely hit the carpet on the floor next to the bed or he’d already shifted, shaking out unruly, brown fur, and immediately catching a whiff of something sallow.

The lube.

His mind took a second to catch up, but then he whipped around, and there Peter was; lying on the bed, watching the wolf on the ground, something scared but excited in his eyes. Beyond that thick smell of artificial slick, Tony could smell Peter, could smell the arousal on him, and it was like something clicked.

This was what he’d been missing.

“Hey Tony,” Peter said softly, almost tentatively, as if he wasn’t sure if Tony’s mind had caught up with the wolf yet, but it had. Intelligent eyes rose to meet the younger man’s gaze, and Peter’s expression eased into a soft smile. Without further ado, while Tony was watching, Peter pushed himself up onto his hands and knees to put himself perfectly on display, almost teasingly.

Tony was on the bed in a flash, the mattress dipping beneath the wolf’s heavy weight. He had to find his balance first, unused to being on the bed in this form, but quickly managed when there was another task at hand.

He immediately pushed his muzzle up against Peter’s hole, slick and shiny with lube, stretched rim twitching gently under the soft puffs of air when Tony scented and snuffled. Peter giggled, and dropped his head to his forearms.

“Tickles,” he complained, but really it was only mildly bothersome because it was new, something Peter had never experienced before, and he wasn’t sure what to expect yet.

Definitely not the broad tongue that followed Tony’s huffy breaths, lapping in one long, broad stroke up Peter’s taint and across his glistening hole. Peter’s breath immediately caught in his throat and he let out a choked sound of surprise, but didn’t try to move away. Once he got past that initial oddness, it actually… It actually felt really good.

He moaned when Tony didn’t hesitate to do it again. And once more after. And yet again. Peter’s cock between his legs had already fully filled out by the time Tony changed tactic by pressing his muzzle up against Peter’s hole and pushing his tongue past the tight ring of muscle and into his body, which opened up and welcomed the intrusion like it was meant to.

Peter shuddered on the spot, cock twitching, the long tongue reaching places inside him that he wasn’t sure anyone had reached before. Not like that. Tony had sure tried, had taken him in his lap and pound into him before, and it had been an otherworldly experience, but even that didn’t compare to this.

And they had only just gotten started.

When Tony was satisfied with the job he’d done and left Peter’s hole sloppy and wet, he moved away, much to Peter’s dissatisfaction. The young man looked over his shoulder to see what Tony was doing, and caught him with his head between his legs, licking at the fiery red length that was slipping out from the sheath at Tony’s lower belly. He lapped at it as if to encourage it, to slick it up, ready to bury it into Peter’s waiting body.

Astounded by the size he’d just laid his eyes upon, Peter turned back when Tony shifted once more, keeping his eyes forward to try and help himself relax once again. Something so big would never fit inside of him. It simply couldn’t. And yet when Tony mounted him, large front paws on either side of Peter’s ribs and his large tongue lapping soothingly against the back of his neck, Peter realized he was just going to have to take it.

“Be gentle,” Peter reminded Tony almost frantically, his voice a higher pitch than usual. Tony paused for a moment, and then licked the back of his ear as if to say ‘I hear you, I’m listening, I promise’. And then Tony lined up.

Peter’s body opened up for the pointed tip of Tony’s cock like it was the easiest thing, the wolf’s saliva easing its way. It was warm, and smooth, and big, but Peter took it silently, wordlessly, without complaint, until the very beginnings of the knot that Tony had warned him about countless of times nudged up against his stretched out rim and the wolf had successfully buried all of himself inside the human.

Peter let out a shuddery sigh, relaxing slowly with the soothing little licks to the back of his neck and his hair. Grooming. Tony had been doing that for a while, and it still helped Peter relax, inexplicably. But right now he couldn’t have been more glad.

Especially when Tony started moving not long after.

And it seemed that once he got a taste of it, that cautious approach he’d started out with was thrown out the window. The first few thrusts were relatively shallow, patient, careful – but Tony sped up quickly, putting that massive strength in his hind legs to good use to force himself in and out of Peter faster, quicker, rougher. Every thrust knocked the air out of Peter’s lungs but the overwhelming pleasure that came with the quickening pace left him without the ability to breathe anyway, so it didn’t matter.

Peter grabbed at the bedsheets, the only leverage he had against the rough thrusts that almost lifted him up off his knees every time, shaking the bedframe. Tony panted into Peter’s ear, hot and humid, occasionally darting his tongue across a stray drop of sweat that gathered on the back of Peter’s neck.

The younger man was useless beneath the wolf, just trying to keep himself on his knees, speared on Tony’s cock, tossed about with the force of the thrusts. He was strong, stronger than most human beings, but he had never felt more like a ragdoll than he did while Tony was fucking into him like that.

And he liked it. God forbid, he liked it so much that he came without touching himself, without even knowing that he did, floating on endless, overwhelming waves of pleasure that every harsh thrust brought with it.

They became more ragged and irregular by the second, and Peter knew that it would soon be over. He already missed it, even though it hadn’t even ended yet. But he was in for one more surprise.

Tony’s knot had already grown to the size of a relatively small apple, sitting at the base of his cock, nudging Peter’s hole with every other thrust, just begging to be let inside. It slipped in occasionally, much to Peter’s pleasure, that sudden, extra stretch and extra couple of inches deep within him rushing him closer and closer to a second orgasm.

And when Tony finally fitted all of it inside of him, and Peter could feel it rapidly start to increase in size, tugging at his already stretched out rim – that’s what did it for him the second time around.

Peter quickly brought a hand down between his legs to stroke himself through his orgasm, moaning and keening and writhing beneath the wolf as the knot grew and grew, sealing them together to be followed up with a load buried so deep inside Peter’s body that it had the younger man feeling more bloated than he ever did before.

He pressed a hand to his stomach, panting, marveling at the feeling, and froze up when he felt the deformation on his belly. He pressed against it, and Tony above him whined, his massive cock twitching inside him and filling him with another load.

Peter smoothed his fingertips over the bulge under his skin again and again, the thought of Tony so deep inside him that it could do that nearly sending him over the edge again, but his cock was still weakly twitching from his last orgasm. Although Peter wouldn’t be surprised if he would be good to go again in seconds. Not with the enormous knot tugging at his abused rim.

The large wolf collapsed on top of Peter, and he groaned under the weight, constricting around Tony. Instantly, Peter noticed the change. He hadn’t seen Tony this sedated, this sated or happy or satisfied in a long time, not while in his wolf form. Not to mention the affection that followed, the grooming and the playfulness, all so unhurried.

Peter praised the wolf softly, reaching a hand over his shoulder to pet his head and compliment him for his behavior and his patience. They were stuck together for a while, but even after, Tony was a different wolf.

He cleaned Peter up and made sure the young man got comfortable before he lay down with him and looked up at him with those big, doe eyes full of adoration, as if their spiritual bond had just been confirmed tenfold.

And really, Peter would be lying if he didn’t…kind of feel it too.

Or maybe he was just seeing things.

“I’d say that worked, didn’t it?” Peter murmured sleepily, combing his hand through Tony’s fur. He received a lick in return, which in wolf speak must have been something agreeable. Peter was sure that if Tony had been able to speak, he would have said so too. And he would have likely suggest they go for another round.

And hell, it only took Peter a little while to recuperate from his first time taking Tony’s wolf cock. Before too long, he was already toying with the sensitive sheath on Tony’s lower belly with a mischievous grin, watching the pointed tip of his cock slip out slowly.

If Tony could have raised his brows, he absolutely would have.

But he’d be crazy if he was going to say no.

#StarkerKink2020 #starker #ironspider #Peter Parker/Tony Stark #tony stark x peter parker #starker fanfic #my fanfic #my writing #werewolf au #nff #aus #tw knotting #tw belly bulge #look at me posting something again wow it's been ages #in my defence i lost my job so I've been busy welp

[wonda-cat]

You mentioned rewriting that one analysis post on Tommy’s revival stream and I’d really look forward to it! I never got to read the full og post and that’s the only place I saw these takes. Especially the one about the afterlife being too depressing. It’s not even just about Tommy, the implication that even if every character is safe and happy by the end, this is their inevitable fate is messed up. It’s not “a neat subversion” it’s just depressing and doesn’t add anything.

Hey, anon!

I sorta decided to not rewrite it? I feel a bit differently about the essay in the end, although I still believe in most of my points. I’m also just not nearly as passionate about it as I was when I wrote it (I finished it in a single sitting, which was... interesting.) However, yes, the afterlife stuff still bothers me just the same, as well as the odd changes to Wilbur’s characterization... post mortem.

But—just for you, anon—here’s the entire meta-analysis essay anyway, with some minor edits to the stuff I don’t agree with anymore!

My Many Narrative Issues with Tommyinnit’s Revival Stream

I want to preface this by saying that I dearly love the Dream SMP and understand it isn’t exactly comparable to other mediums like TV and film. With this being the case, most criticism against it is generally in bad faith or strange in foundation. Complaining about streamers for bad acting is the best example that comes to mind. 

These aren’t professional actors. Most have never acted in this sort of setting, or even at all. Quite a few have admitted to never roleplaying before. Which is why it’s warranted to praise Tommy, Dream, Wilbur, Ranboo, and others when they deliver stellar performances. The same applies to criticism of music choice, dialogue delivery, focus, tone, etc. 

However, one such category I cannot overlook is in regards to its writing. The writing of a story is its entire foundation. It encompasses many things—conflict choice, character development, themes, and morals. The author creates the blueprints for the architect, who then expresses the story with light, sound, color, pacing, and music. It is in its execution that we see if this connection is made or broken. 

The reason I find poor writing mostly inexcusable is because it is one of the most available skills to practice and perfect. I don’t mean to say that it’s easy, I mean to say it is something anyone can attempt to cultivate. Whether they do it well or not depends on their methods and experience. If anyone can self-publish a novel and be criticized online for its quality—and even compared to the works of Mark Twain—then I find critiquing the writing of the Dream SMP to be perfectly reasonable. 

However, since the Dream SMP script is a set of loose bullet points, tearing apart dialogue and scene continuity—which is nearly all improv—is rather useless. It doesn’t exactly have a clear focus as the plot plays out. The characters talk in circles until they hit the story beat required, and then they move onto the next. Thus, when criticizing it, one should generally critique grand events and narrative-specific shifts, more so than small-scale character interactions. 

Which brings me to my main point: The broad narrative choices taken in Tommyinnit’s most recent livestream, ‘Am I dead?’ may lead to disastrous writing pitfalls in the future. 

I’ll be outlining each of my issues below, in hopes of creating a better understanding as to why I feel this way. 

This might become quite lengthy, so please bear with me for a bit.

Tommy’s relationship to Wilbur has flipped. This change is jarring and seems out of character.

Tommy and Wilbur’s friendship is rather complicated. While Wilbur does care for Tommy immensely, especially during the L’Manburg Revolution and the Election Arc, his mental spiral during exile put a massive strain on their relationship as a whole. Wilbur brushed off Tommy’s feelings and wants, while clinging to him and pushing everyone else away. He was simultaneously distant and suffocating. 

Tommy, on the other hand, has an unclear view of his mentor. Since the beginning, and even long after Wilbur’s death, Tommy held him in especially high regard. He saw him as a brother-figure and a wise leader. He followed what he said and did everything he could to impress him. Yet, Wilbur still hurt him while the two were together in exile. 

When speaking of him, Tommy tends to flip infrequently between remembering Wilbur the way he was before his mental decline and thinking of him as a monster. Both of these images conflict with each other, but they weren’t nearly as extreme as what Tommy described Wilbur as when he was revived from death. The fear Tommy displays to Wilbur is beyond intense—it feels as if the audience may have missed a month’s worth of character development. 

This can make sense, especially since it was stated that he’d spent what felt like two months in the void. However, this shift is still deeply at odds with Tommy’s previous impressions of Wilbur, which is both disheartening and confusing. The fact that Tommy would agree to stay with Dream—his abuser and murderer—over his past mentor is simply head-reeling. It paints a very different picture of Wilbur’s character, somewhat conforming to the fandom’s ableist impression of him—the idea that Wilbur is insane and irredeemable, and always will be. 

It also ignores Dream being the driving factor in Wilbur’s downfall, as well as the double-bind deal with Dream which required him to push the button, no matter the outcome. Others have pointed out that Tommy may be lying to get Dream to bring Wilbur back, and there’s compelling evidence for that. For one, Tommy and Wilbur’s conversation seemed uncomfortable, but it was certainly nothing like Tommy implied. (Unless this fear comes from something Wilbur said off-screen.) 

Tommy also begged Dream to not bring him back multiple times over, which he should know would make Dream even more tempted to, simply because he likes seeing Tommy in pain. Tommy is also a known unreliable narrator. He may be making Wilbur out to be worse than he is by accident (even still, I’d argue this is a bit of a stretch.) 

However, there are some issues with this theory. Tommy offered himself as payment to Dream if he chose to let Wilbur rest. This is a deal Tommy knows Dream is extremely unlikely to refuse. Tommy is what Dream has coveted all this time. If Tommy genuinely wanted Wilbur back, he would not offer this. This sort of compromise is Tommy’s greatest nightmare—something he would only do in response to his friends being threatened or his home being destroyed. 

To add, Tommy is not great at lying. Unless he was taught by Wilbur for those two months* in the afterlife, there’s no chance Tommy would be this good at it. Thirdly, Tommy is terrible under pressure. He uses humor to cope. When he can’t, he cries and shouts and spills his heart out. While cornered, Tommy will tell the truth about anything, especially if Dream casually debates killing him again, just for fun. 

For now, it’s too early to tell how the relationship shift will play out. In the grand scheme of things, this issue is rather minor.

Season three’s writing is needlessly bleak. The portrayal of the afterlife is a nightmare. There is no rest, not even in death.

I adore the Dream SMP storyline in its entirety. I believe the first season is fantastic, and while the second season has some narrative clarity issues, I enjoyed it just as much. Although, I would argue season one had a more concrete understanding of its Hope-Conflict balance. 

To briefly explain, the Hope in stories are its ‘highs’ and good moments. These appear when a character the audience is rooting for is narratively rewarded. They happen during character building in the text—it’s the downtime and peace that allows for connection and relatability. It’s a moment for the viewer to breathe easy. 

The other half is Conflict, an obstacle in the story that gets in the way of the main characters’ goals, beliefs, and motives. These are the ‘lows.’ They give the narrative focus and weight. They make the highs feel even higher. They establish consequences and force the characters in the story to change in order to adapt and overcome them. 

I bring up the Hope-Conflict balance because a traditional hero’s journey would have an appropriate amount of both. Their highs and lows are generally equalized, as the name suggests. However, this balance has been awkwardly skewed in the latter half of season two and in the current plot of season three. To clarify, it is perfectly reasonable, and even common, for some stories to tip the scale more to one side. 

But a common mistake for amateur writers is to create their stories as either hopelessly dark to cause the audience continuous distress for the sake of distress, or to keep everything entirely conflict-free for most of the plot. What do these both have in common? They each make the story boring and predictable. 

Season three has taken this concept and thrown a monstrously heavy weight onto the Conflict side and flipped the scale so hard it has crashed through the ceiling. The viewers are hardly given time to find any joy in Tommy’s character, as he’s thrown into yet another abusive situation, just barely after his first narrative reward. The world is painted as relentlessly violent and traumatic. 

Every person Tommy meets is morally grey, unhinged, or out to hurt him. Everything most of the characters love is taken from them by those in positions of power. Ranboo cannot even grieve properly because it scars his face. Puffy, Sam, Ranboo, and Tubbo all blame themselves for what happened to Tommy. 

The audience watches lore stream after lore stream with the same depressing tone (with the exception of Tubbo’s, but I assume that’s unintentional.) Tommy is revived after being brutally beaten to death by his abuser, surrounded by all of his greatest fears. The afterlife is revealed to be akin to inescapable torture. It’s a colorless void that wraps the individual like fabric. 

Time moves thirty times slower within. There’s nothing—nothing but the voices of others who’ve passed on before him. Dying in a world already devoid of happiness takes the characters to a place worse than hell. When a narrative delivers unfair suffering to the entire cast without a moment of joy to speak of, the story will feel simultaneously overwhelming and pointless. 

Why watch characters suffer when there’s no light at the end of the tunnel? What happiness could they strive for when we know they’ll never get to keep it? How can I be satisfied with a good ending, if I know that an afterlife too terrible to name is what awaits them, truly, at the end of their story? Death isn’t even a white void that offers rest—it is eternal torment. 

Obviously, it isn’t a good message to send by making the afterlife seem like a quiet, perfect place or an escape from pain. But making it an unspeakable anguish which awaits, assumedly, every character who will die in the future? I deeply hope Tommy was only being an extremely unreliable narrator. 

More likely, I hope the place Tommy was taken to was a Limbo of sorts, not an end-all-be-all destination for everyone.

The degree of Tommy’s narrative punishment continues to escalate, to an almost absurd degree.

Tommy is one of the most tragic characters to exist in the storyline. He was sent into war at a young age and experienced two traumatic events during it. He was exiled by the newly elected leader and witnessed his mentor Wilbur spiral and break down with paranoia. Tubbo is executed publicly in front of him. When expressing rightful anger at the person who murdered him, he’s beaten nearly to death and never receives an apology. 

Schlatt dies right in front of Tommy, after his initial refusal to hurt the ex-president. His brother-figure and mentor is killed in assisted suicide on the same day his nation is blown up. His best friend exiles him from his home for the second time. He routinely self-sacrifices to protect his country and those who live there. His most treasured possessions were taken from him and he was called selfish for trying to retrieve them (although his methods were self-destructive and volatile.) 

He was pushed to the brink of suicide after being relentlessly abused and isolated in his exile. He was horrified when he thought he was responsible for drowning Fundy. After making an objectively good decision to stand by his old friends and change for the better, his country was obliterated by the man he once idolized, his father-figure, and his abuser. 

He was left scattered and without purpose for many days. Then he fights against Dream and loses, while also reliving his trauma. He watches Tubbo almost die at the hands of someone he once thought was his friend. He doesn’t tell a single person about what happened to him in exile. The day he tries to sever his connection to Dream and heal, he’s trapped with him for a week, surrounded by everything that terrifies him. 

He threatens to kill himself, speaking about his own life as if it were an object—something to hold over Dream’s head. He blames himself for everything bad that’s ever happened to L’Manburg and his friends—internalizing a mentality as a scapegoat for everyone around him. He is forced into the role of ‘hero’ despite the title being unfair and distressing to him.

As if that weren’t enough, he’s then beaten to death by his abuser and spends what feels like two months in an afterlife that is worse than hell. When he returns, his senses are excessively heightened. Dream can cause him excruciating pain, just by pinching him. He can send Tommy into an instant panic attack, just by raising his voice. 

The punishment Tommy’s character receives is a thousand times worse than everyone he has ever met, or ever will meet. And it shows no signs of stopping, as Dream now has control over Tommy’s very mortality. Tommy now fears the slightest damage and feels as if he’s losing his best friend all over again. He is also forced into a position where he has to kill Dream out of necessity, to protect everyone he cares about.

Characters need fitting punishments in relation to their actions. Not always, but in order to be satisfying? Yes, they do. It is preferred that a main character deal with unfair situations and difficult conflicts, but this is borderline torture p*rn. Putting Tommy in these distressing and abusive situations on repeat and punishing him for doing objectively moral or healthy things is exhausting to watch. 

To quickly add, I find the general insinuation of Tommy going to hell distasteful, especially considering the contents of his storyline. I know this may be hard to believe, but Tommy is one of the most moral characters in the plot, besides Puffy and Ghostbur. He’s also the only character, followed by Ranboo, to recognize that they can be wrong and make mistakes. He changed himself in order to heal and be a better person. He was in the process of paying people back for the things he’d stolen. 

He’s learned to be hard-working and less violent through the guidance of Sam. He has apologized to everyone he’s ever hurt (with the exception of Jack Manifold, because that man is allergic to communication.) He puts himself in harm's way to protect others. He doesn’t set out to purposely hurt anyone. He goes out of his way to make connections with people and maintain them, even if others don’t reciprocate. 

He’s hopelessly optimistic, despite his outwardly bitter façade. He loved so much and put meaning into the smallest things. The thought that a person like him—a suicide and abuse survivor—would go to hell after being beaten to death by the man who took everything from him; it makes me sick to my stomach. 

The only thing more morbid than Tommy’s afterlife being different than everyone else’s, is the concept that everyone will end up in this same eternal torture, no matter what they do. Take your pick: Tommy is sentenced to anguish until the end of time for no reason, or everyone will receive the same disturbing ending, regardless of their actions.

The narrative weight of Ranboo’s character is potentially out the window.

For the past few months, I’ve watched all of Ranboo’s lore streams faithfully, curious to see what role he would play in the future. His ‘hallucinations’ of Dream seemed to be sowing the seeds for a plot that has Ranboo taking the fall for every single insidious thing Dream has done. It would also be a tragic parallel to Tommy’s trial. 

Ranboo being convinced he was the one who blew up the community house, when Dream himself admitted to doing it, was one of the bigger indicators for me. This is just one of many other unexplained occurrences. Dream seemed to be making an effort to trigger and control Ranboo, especially after Sapnap’s prison visit. It appeared, from the way he went about this, that Dream had some grand use for Ranboo as part of his plan to be freed from Pandora’s Vault. 

However, after Tommy’s stream, the way Dream explains himself makes it seem like there was no plan besides seeing if the book worked on people. And if he didn’t after all, then what was Ranboo for? Was Ranboo unimportant? Was Ranboo just some weirdo who happened to phase out when seeing smiley faces and imagined conversations that may or may not have happened? 

I bring this up more as a worry, and much less so as an active problem in the narrative. They haven’t actually thrown Ranboo to the way-side or written themselves into a corner yet. In future streams, this could very easily be explained away or developed as more information is revealed. 

Only time will tell.

The potential for Wilbur’s future development and importance to the plot is unfeasible.

I feel as if I am the only person on earth who doesn’t want Wilbur Soot or Schlatt revived. There are many reasons for this, but one of them is not a dislike for these characters. I especially adore Wilbur, as he’s one of my all-time favorites. I don’t want either of them resurrected because their stories have already been told. They each had a fitting conclusion that ended their involvement perfectly. 

Bringing Wilbur back would especially cheapen the impact of the War of the 16th. It’s the end of a man who was brought to the absolute edge and out of desperation, shame, and self-hatred, he destroyed himself alongside his creation. Bringing him back would leave the climax of the previous story hollow. My biggest issue, however, is that a lack of story importance would likely follow his return. 

The only real impact I’d like to see is through a healing arc with Tommy, an apology to Fundy, or a confrontation with Phil/Niki. But that’s really all the potential I can realistically see. While I don’t doubt Wilbur as an agent of chaos, able to create plot out of thin air; what is he going to do now? His country is gone, his friends and family are scattered about, and his mission from the 16th is already accomplished. 

What is a well-educated, charismatic politician supposed to do in a world already broken and without nations? Read poetry to himself and cry evilly? However, this is working off the assumption that Wilbur would be returning as his old self. 

If Wilbur is resurrected as a ‘villain’ of sorts, then what? He’s not good at fighting in the slightest. He would have no materials. There are no real allies he can make, other than the arctic group. On top of that, there are already more than enough villains to last a lifetime. 

We don’t need any more, I promise. Quackity seems to already be shaping up as another antagonist, alongside Sam’s slip into darker and darker shades of moral ambiguity. We also have Philza and Techno, which are already overkill. But then we have Dream who, despite being in a prison, has the ability of selective revival. This is mercilessly overpowered, especially if he makes many allies. The dude could just bring his dead friends back so they can keep fighting forever. 

Then there’s Jack Manifold and the Crimson followers; Antfrost, Bad, and Punz. That’s not even including characters who are refusing to get involved. How are Tommy, Tubbo, and Puffy expected to do literally anything to fight back?

Dream’s experiment on Tommy implies he had no backup plan to begin with. This makes his character seem both short-sighted and foolish.

When Tommy woke up after being brought back to life, Dream sounded surprised that the revival worked at all. This instantly shatters the perception that Dream was highly intelligent and thought ahead. With just a few lines of dialogue, it’s implied that Dream killed Tommy, unsure of if the resurrection would even be possible on humans. 

Which, to risk something that important, seems unbelievably stupid. Dream needs Tommy, from his perspective. Tommy is his ‘toy,’ the one who makes everything fun. If he lost him and couldn’t get him back, what then? Oh well, everything Dream was doing was all for nothing, I guess. 

Why not attempt this experiment on literally anyone else first? Like Sapnap or Bad or, hell, even Ranboo. I suppose it could be that, as soon as Dream got the book, he experimented with it after the 16th. This appears to be insinuated with Friend and Hendry’s revival, although this is uncertain. But even then, he was still unsure of the book’s effect on a human being.

Also, this means, hypothetically, Dream’s entire plan of escape hinged on the experiment working, to begin with, and also on bringing back Wilbur if it somehow did. I find this even more ridiculous. Why Wilbur? That man couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag, let alone get through the traps in Pandora’s Vault. Even if he is intelligent after years* in the afterlife, that’s also a strange assumption. 

How do people learn things in the void? Where do they even get this knowledge? I’d honestly argue Techno is a far more competent choice than Wilbur. And even if Dream did bring him back and tell him he owed him his life, what’s to stop Wilbur from just killing him permanently? Or killing himself, continuously? 

No way would Wilbur want to be controlled by anyone, ever. The dude would sooner fuck off into the mountains and become a nomad than help a neon green bodysuit cosplay as Light Yagami.

Dream’s discussion about Sam implies that he wasn't playing any part in Dream’s plan, making Sam appear entirely incompetent and neglectful of Tommy.

Dream talked about Sam in a way that seems detached and unaffiliated. He also mentioned him being broken up about Tommy’s fate and not being aware he’s still alive. Dream not being partnered with, or not using Sam in his plan leaves many plot holes. I’ll go through each one. The initial incident was an explosion, coming from the roof of Pandora’s Vault. This did not affect the Redstone mechanism for the doors or dispensers. 

Meaning, Sam could’ve had Tommy leave the way that was expected for visitors after he investigated and found no issues. This likely couldn’t have been done in less than a day, but it would be better than an entire week. If Tommy was required to stay for longer, due to protocol, he could’ve gotten Tommy out and then placed him in one of the minor cells for the remainder of the time. 

Also, no one else lost a canon life for leaving via the splash potion of harming and returning outside the maximum-security cell; why would Tommy? To add, Sam being uninvolved means that the explosion could have only been caused by Ranboo or Foolish. That, or it was placed long before and timed for the moment Tommy entered the main cell. (I’m going to ignore how ludicrous it is that someone would know the exact time Tommy would’ve entered the room with Dream.) 

If Ranboo was the person behind the detonation, this implies he was necessary for Dream to kill Tommy to test the book. But that makes it even stranger. If this was Dream’s goal all along, why not kill Tommy the instant he was trapped with him? It makes no sense for him to wait so long. 

Sam is also directly at fault for not letting Tommy out, even after the week was up. There was no reason not to. He already knew there were no issues with the prison at that point. Although, to be fair to Sam, his character may have been paranoid and checking everything more than necessary, just in case. But this still isn’t a good excuse for him ignoring protocol in this one instance, and yet, not in any of the others. 

All of these plot holes or inconsistencies would be removed if it was revealed that Dream was blackmailing Sam in some way, or Sam had been working with him since the get-go. That Sam was the person who set off the explosion in the first place to trap Tommy inside. It would also explain Sam’s refusal to let Tommy out and by keeping him in there for longer than necessary. 

This can also coexist with Sam’s attachment and care for Tommy. He probably wasn’t told about Dream’s plan to test the book and genuinely believed Dream wouldn’t hurt him. On top of that, Dream is known to be a pathological liar, so his statements about Ranboo and Sam could be entire fabrications. 

Who knows?

The Book of Revival invalidates death entirely. The narrative now lacks both tension and consequence.

Another way the Dream SMP differs from other storytelling media is in the way it goes about its character deaths. In a TV show, for example, there will be characters who die just because, or when it’s important to the plot. However, it seems as if the Dream SMP is hesitant to commit to killing its characters. And there are many reasons for that. 

The most important one being, killing someone’s character excludes them from the story and some of their livelihoods depend on them regularly streaming on the server. There is also the issue of the cast becoming extremely sparse if characters keep dying. Typically, in stories, when you kill a character, you should introduce another. 

This keeps the cast from dwindling as the storyline goes on. This means the writers would have to find new streamers to join, who will develop their own characters and relationships with the plot’s continued momentum. This can be stressful and daunting to those who may be newly added in the future. 

Keeping this in mind, the Book of Revival is annoying from a writer’s perspective. When death is no longer an issue for a story hinged on its characters’ mortality, then what do you have as a consequence anymore? We’ve explored every kind under the sun; from abuse, to betrayal, to loss, to destruction. 

In stories, traditionally, death is a finality. It’s a conclusion. Whether it’s good or not depends on the character’s actions, its build-up, and the event’s execution. Without this lingering sense of danger, tension evaporates from the story. 

Why should I care if Tommy loses in a fight to someone, if he’ll just come back a day later? Why should I care about what happened to Wilbur, if he just returns as if nothing happened? The answer is simple: I won’t. I will no longer care if Tubbo or Ranboo or Sam die in the story, because the idea of revival even being a possible outcome leaves me unenthused and uncaring. 

The Dream SMP likes to flirt with death. It teases the demise of its main characters many, many times. More so Tommy’s than anyone else’s. Wilbur’s failed resurrection, which had unforeseen and unfortunate outcomes, is now strange in comparison to Tommy’s, which happened without a hitch. 

To be fair, we actually don’t see how many attempts it took. But here’s the problem; Dream could do it without the book being physically present. He’s trapped in a prison with nothing on him, meaning he doesn’t need any materials either. It’s also implied he could do this as many times as he feels, for anyone he wants. This would be exceedingly overpowered, if not for one thing—Dream himself is mortal (at least, I fucking hope he’s mortal.) 

If someone kills him one last time, that knowledge is gone forever. And I’m glad they’ve established at least some way for Tommy to win. Because at this point, I was losing faith. 

There is also the bare minimum establishment that Dream can refuse to bring back those he doesn’t care for. He can also use it as a shield, holding this power over other people. If Dream is gone, death is permanent. But isn’t that how death is supposed to be, anyway? 

What a bleak premise—the afterlife is pure eternal torture while life is cheapened by a lack of consequences.

Conclusion

All this to say, I am cautiously optimistic for the future. I hope dearly that every single one of these can be disproven or developed in the coming livestreams. Obviously, there’s not enough information to really determine what the end result will be, or how everything will fall into place. 

Every time I have theorized about the story, it has done something completely different and pleasantly surprised me. I want this trend to continue. 

Surprise me again—I’ll be here to see where it goes.

#answered asks #long post #tommyinnit #dream smp meta #dream smp #dsmp #dsmp analysis #this is slightly outdated still but whatever #hope this was helpful anon #tw abuse #tw suicide

[apossessionadaybreak]

Halloween Special

Gary looked up from the TV just in time to see his son come out from his room for what was probably the fifth time that day to stare intently at him. He supposed this was some sort of new-age method of showing disapproval. He had to admit, it was a little unnerving, but someone had to be the disciplinarian.

“Ryan, I know you’re bored but you’re grounded for good reason and you know it. Just because it’s Halloween tonight doesn’t mean you can go around egging and TPing people’s houses, especially not poor old Mr. Quille. You know that he can’t get around so easily anymore.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, whatever you say dad.” 

Gary heard the sounds of shuffling feet and the slamming of a door. He sighed again.

Shaking his head to himself, he was about to turn his attention back to his programme only to be distracted by a stab of light coming from the table.

He turned, annoyed, to the source, only to find himself staring at a book. He looked quizzically at it for a moment, before abruptly recalling it was a gift from Mr. Quille from when he had gone over to talk about Ryan’s atrocious behaviour. ‘No hard feelings,’ as the man himself had put it. It was a sleek, leather-bound volume that seemed to be coated in some sort of reflective black material. He had never seen a book so… shiny before. Hell, it was probably brighter than his car parked alongside the sidewalk. Curious, he picked it up and was taken aback by how heavy it was. It felt nice though, as he weighed it in his palms, smooth and luxurious. He searched the cover for the title but could only make out the embossed shape of a ghost, the kind of shapeless blob malls usually sold during this time of year as a decoration. It looked amateurish compared to the rest of the item but somehow he couldn’t help but feel drawn by it.

He caught himself staring into the circles which represented the eyes for a bit too long before he realised he was sitting ramrod straight and the hairs on his arms were standing on end. He chuckled nervously to himself as he looked around the room but he was alone, naturally. A book of ghost stories it seemed, he used to devour these as a kid. Maybe Mr. Quille had thought Ryan would enjoy reading through them, though why he would think that, Gary couldn’t say. He cracked it open to reveal brand new, bone-white pages. He paused, up till now he had assumed that it had been an old possession of Mr. Quille’s, maybe some relic from his childhood. Yet, everything seemed to be pointing to the contrary. With his curiosity mounting, he settled down for a good read. He turned and plumped up the cushions, figuring he’d flip through a story or two. He flicked the pages at random, as images, clearer and more vibrant than he had ever envisioned began to form in his mind…

Blood Ties

The package on the doorstep was soft and shapeless but Saul still couldn’t help but feel threatened by it. It didn’t make any sense, the amount of anxiety he felt towards this inanimate object. No label, no card.  Just plain, waxy, brown paper. He didn’t know why he felt so worried, it was probably a gift from a friend, or perhaps some long-lost family member?

He pondered still, for a few minutes more, wondering why he was wondering so much about it, before finally gritting his teeth and ripping open the wrapping. He stared at the contents for a moment before bursting out in laughter at his own foolishness. The package he had been so worried about simply contained some pieces of what looked to be a formal suit. A… very expensive one at that. The strange, unsettling feeling crept in again. He shook his head, he wondered what his forefathers would have thought of him, losing his mind over clothing of all things. Saul did his best to maintain his composure as he unfolded it, holding it up against his own body. Whoever sent this package definitely seemed to know him. If he didn’t know any better he’d have said it was tailor-made for him but that was a ridiculous idea, wasn’t it?

He tried the shirt on first, marvelling at the smooth, buttery feel of the fabric. He relished the effortless way his knuckles slid along the length of the sleeve, so flawless was the craftsmanship. If it didn’t feel so good to wear it, he might have been more creeped out by how well it wrapped around him, how nicely it sat on his chest and shoulders. He struck a pose in front of the mirror, smiling in spite of himself. Did he look paler than usual? Maybe he hadn’t been getting enough sun lately. He shuddered at the thought.

The rest of the suit was just as exquisite, if not more. With each new article of clothing, Saul could feel his incredulity and enjoyment growing in equal parts. Whatever suspicions he had had evaporated as he savoured the act of dressing himself. He felt, no, he knew he was irresistible in all this finery. Dressed like this, he’d be able to charm the pants off of anyone, everyone. He stopped to take a look at himself in the mirror again, taking a moment to fish his heavy pocket watch out of the vest. He smiled to himself as he checked his timing, he still had it… though what exactly he still had he couldn’t remember for the life of him. He didn’t know why such a thought had popped into his head, unbidden. He looked good no doubt but for the barest moment, he thought he had seen his face turn mean, the shadow of a split-second sneer. What was scarier was how he could feel some part of him was wishing for it to come back. He stared intently at his reflection in a mix of fear and reverence, almost daring it to act before him. It was only when he felt his gaze begin to blur until he could barely see anything anymore that he blinked himself back to reality.

At last, came the tie. He picked it up and let it flow across his open palm, admiring the red and gold fabric. It felt so small in his beefy hands. He hadn’t realised before today how built up he was but now he relished it, rolling his haunches as he appreciated his own width. Apparently sometimes a perfectly tailored suit helped you to appreciate yourself better, who could have guessed? He certainly knew he’d never be able to wear anything else after today, the material fit him as snugly as a second skin, made him feel powerful, in control. He wrapped it around his neck, letting it hang loosely over his frame. Bringing his hands up, he knotted it in one swift, practiced motion. So mesmerised was he with his own appearance, he barely even registered that his hands seemed to be moving of their own accord, tightening the knot until it felt like it was biting into his soft exposed neck. His eyelids drooped down, and then, darkness.

Saul laid on the floor for a few moments, blinking. He sat up and gave himself a once over, then did so a second time but he knew he’d be alright, he was himself now. He stood and looked at the mirror, smirking as he did so. No reflection, but he’d expected as much. He rolled his shoulders, and once again, ran his hands along the fabric, feeling his clothes, feeling himself. He ran his newly claimed tongue over his teeth, noting that they still retained the familial sharpness. 

It had been a long time since he had last fed. People generally didn’t respond well to his kind. He couldn’t blame them for driving him out of town and threatening to burn his estate. But that didn’t matter now. He had done what was necessary to survive. Anyone who might have known him was long dead by now and people in general had long forgotten that creatures like him even existed. The paperwork would arrive soon enough, for the great-grandson who shared his name. In time, he would return to his rightful home and resume his old life there. Until then, Saul Senior had a terrible thirst to quench… 

~~~~

Gary looked up from the book, a little stunned. He thought Mr. Quille had said that it was for Ryan as much as him, that ‘your son could learn a lot from it’. This certainly wasn’t a book he could describe as being educational to anyone, not with the contents thus far. He couldn’t deny he had enjoyed himself though. As creepy as the tale was, it had fired his imagination, filled his mind with vivid scenes in a way that he hadn’t experienced before. He looked at the words on the page, secretly replaying the pictures in his head, again, and again, and again. He turned the page and kept reading…

Halloween Spirit

“I told you already Cole, I’ll take you trick or treating later-”

“But Dad, it’s 5pm already! The streetlights are coming on and all the pumpkins have been lit…”

“Cole Alphonsus Daniels, for the last time, we’ll go out, when I say we go out. Is that clear?”

“...yes sir.”

“Good. Now find some way to entertain yourself while I finish work. After that we’ll hit the streets.” 

Cole scowled as his father ruffled his hair. He ducked to avoid any further displays of affection and found his way to the front yard to sit on the porch. Holding his head in his hands, he stared glumly as people had begun to fill the streets. He longed to join but here he was, confined to waiting for his dad. 

His gaze wandered, looking for something, anything, interesting to look at and found himself staring dead ahead at the pumpkin sitting on the fence. There was something weird about it, other than the way it seemed to be evenly matching his gaze. Then it hit him, the pumpkin was unlit. Cole frowned, he thought he had made sure to get all of them earlier. He got up to light it, grabbing the candle from the lantern nearest to him. 

“Guess you’re missing out too huh, little guy?” He said as he waited for the wick to catch flame. He smiled as the pumpkin flickered to life.

“Well that’s you taken care of. Now if only my dad could hurry up and get out here.” The pumpkin flickered again. If Cole didn’t know better, he would have said it was winking at him. 

---

Gil Daniels tapped away at his keyboard, muttering to himself. He moved to open another document, glancing at the clock as he did so. Another hour before he planned to leave the house, plenty of time. He rubbed at his temples to try to alleviate some of his headache. Damn, he was getting old, if not in body, then in spirit. He picked up his mug and took a sip of coffee, leaning back in his chair as he did so. He licked his lips. The coffee sure tasted good today. Did Lauren do something special to it? He took another sip. Kind of like a pumpkin spice latte. Usually he hated those but this one tasted fresher somehow, more authentic. He closed his eyes and drank deeply, downing it in one go. He felt a warm glow permeate through his body, washing through every fibre of his being. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and smiled.

---

“Ready to go sport?” 

Cole jumped, nearly dropping the candle he was still holding. His father was standing in the doorway, beaming away, arms akimbo.

“Ye-yeah! Let me put this candle back.” He turned to the pumpkin he had just been talking to. “Did you do this?” The pumpkin stared merrily back at him but the flame held steady. “Well, if you did, thanks.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking to but I’m over here kiddo!” His father laughed as he spoke, a loud, hearty, chuckle. He took the candle from Cole as he approached and set it back in the original pumpkin. He turned to Cole, with mischief in his eyes.

“Race you to the next house.” Cole watched with wonder as his dad set off on a brisk jog. He giggled and dashed ahead of him, heading straight for the neighbour’s door, and rang the doorbell thrice for good measure.

“Beat you dad!” Cole laughed as his father saluted his victory. 

“What’s all this then?” Cole turned to the source of the harsh new voice and his smile wilted. He had forgotten about the cranky old man who lived here. He opened his mouth to say something but words failed him. He felt a reassuring hand clapped onto his shoulder and turned to see his dad.

“Pardon my son’s enthusiasm, we’re trick or treating for Halloween. Surely you understand?” He said, reaching his hand out. Cole watched as the old man initially jerked backwards, ready to slam the door shut but the instant his dad grabbed onto him, he stopped. The old man closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them with a wide smile. 

“Of course, of course, wait here, I’ll be only a moment.” The old man winked at Cole and walked back into the house, ostensibly to fetch some candy. Cole smiled warily back at him. Once he was out of earshot, Cole turned to his father.

“That was… kind of weird.”

His father shrugged good-naturedly.

“Seems the holiday spirit is particularly infectious today.” He said with a grin.

~~~~

Gary felt his head snap up as he finished the last word. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been reading for but it suddenly felt like it must have been hours. He looked at the TV to check the clock but was greeted by a black screen. When had he switched it off? He turned to his watch, still early in the afternoon, as evidenced by the sunlight streaming in through the windows. He wasn’t sure why he was so concerned about the time, it wasn’t as if he was going to go anywhere, he needed to take care of Ryan at home. Mr. Quille had told him as much. ‘A boy needs his father.’ He found himself nodding along in agreement, before realising how silly he must have looked to anyone watching. Thankfully Ryan was still in his room. Besides, he was really getting into a reading groove now, he looked back down as he turned the page, eager for the next story…

Bared Souls

Bernard was running. He wished that he knew where he was moving to but he knew that didn’t matter as much as staying on the move. He’d gone too deep into the forest this time and now there was a bear chasing after him. He knew his chances weren’t good but what choice did he have? He threw cautionary glances behind him every now and then, hoping the beast would get bored and wander off but he couldn’t be sure, so he kept running.

As his lungs began to scream for oxygen and his legs threatened to give out, he slowed down and thrust his hand against a thick tree trunk for support. He tried to steady his breathing, not quite willing to look around just yet. Either he had lost the bear, or he’d be overtaken in seconds due to exhaustion. He closed his eyes, hoping against hope it was the former. After a few minutes of not being mauled to death, he allowed himself a cautious look around. No bear, thank goodness. But… no signs of civilisation either. He frowned.

“Out of the frying pan and into the fire eh old boy?” He whispered to himself, trying to calm his nerves. He sat down and pulled his compass and map out, trying to get a sense of where he could go from here. Unfortunately he couldn’t see any landmarks near his position. He tried to stand up but sat back down almost immediately, his head spinning. He knew he’d probably find his way out with enough time but it suddenly occurred to him that he was very, very, very tired. He leaned against the tree trunk, figuring he’d rest his eyes for just a few minutes. Just a few minutes, that’s all… 

---

When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was how much darker it was. Cursing his own foolishness, he stood up, alert, and angry with himself. Grumbling, he pulled out his compass and map again, squinting as best as he could in the fading light. Then he heard a growl. No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening. The growl came again, louder this time. He swung around, cursing under his breath, trying to locate the source of the noise. With the third and loudest growl yet, he bolted off in the opposite direction, fleeing for his life. 

He ran until he once again could not run anymore. He looked around even as he panted for breath. More trees, still no sign of where he could be. With the sunlight rapidly fading, it was looking like he’d have to spend the night in the woods. How could he have been so ill-prepared? He’d be lucky not to freeze to death. That was, if the bears didn’t find him first. He walked with one hand outstretched, as the woods grew darker still. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was trying to find, if anything. He just kept putting one foot in front of the other. 

Then the growling started again. Bernard grit his teeth, trying not to scream out in frustration and despair. This time he didn’t even have the slightest idea where it had come from. It was as if it had sounded all around, or maybe even from inside him. Insanity had come for him it seemed. He tilted his head, straining his ears, begging them to help him pick out which direction the bear was. He could scarcely trust his own senses as the growling began to fade away. Bernard breathed easily for a few moments. He turned his head to the front, only to find himself face to face with the bear.

He yelped out in fright, before he even realised he should not have been able to see anything in the darkness, let alone the bear. The bear did not blend in against the dark woods. Instead it glowed, brightly at that. Tendrils of light radiated off of its body and dissipated lazily into the air. The bear licked its nose, apparently entirely unbothered by Bernard or his palpable fear. It stepped closer and Bernard realised it made no noise as it moved. Even though he knew it made no sense, he could see through the bear. He could see the leaves it stepped on remain as scattered and unflattened as they were before. 

The bear tilted its head and yawned at him, before pawing the ground and walking past him. Bernard didn’t realise he was holding his breath until the bear turned to look at him. Incredulous, he watched as the bear gestured with its head, twice. Follow me, it seemed to be saying. He stepped forward cautiously, shivering as he did so. Whether it was from the cold or fear, he couldn’t say. He stepped forward again, closer and closer, until he was directly alongside the bear.

And then the bear stepped into him.

Bernard stood stock still, certain he was going mad and seeing things. Yet, he could feel the bear as it continued to align itself against his flesh. Against all logic, he felt obliged to get on all fours so the bear could do so more comfortably. As the bear filled him, he felt a sense of extraordinary calm. His face twitched as he felt his senses heighten. New smells, new sounds, a completely different way of experiencing the world. He crawled forward, expecting to feel foolish, only to realise how natural his movements felt.

He broke into a running gait, as if he had known how to do so his entire life. His heart beat a steady thrum in his chest as he navigated the woods. It was all so simple, so obvious. How had he not realised it before? He headed easily through the winding roads, following the smells and clues towards where he knew humans would be. He ran for what must have been hours but not once did he grow tired. He felt alive, more than he had ever known throughout his years of existence. No need for fear, no sense of urgency, just purity of movement towards the goal that was emblazoned in his mind. 

He came to the edge of the woods as the solid darkness began to give way to a pale blue. Not that he had needed the light to make his way through the night. He arched his back and felt himself stand up straight. At the same time he felt as if something was slipping out of him. His senses dulled rapidly back to normalcy but now it was jarring and unfamiliar. He turned back to see the same radiant bear again. He looked towards the road, the one that would take him back to civilisation. After the night he had had, it would be nice to return back home to a warm shower and bed. Even as he thought of his modern comforts, he couldn’t help feeling that something was missing, that he’d remain forever incomplete if he walked out of these woods as he was now.

He turned to look at the bear again. This time, it was he who gestured with his head. Twice. The bear looked as impassive as ever and he worried for a moment that it would turn back into the woods. Then it stepped forward, until it was alongside him. This time, it was Bernard who stepped willingly into the waiting spirit, for now he knew what it was. Their bodies aligned once more, the two took a few tentative steps, before throwing their head back and roaring as one.

~~~~

Gary sat with the book open in his lap. He stared blankly at the ceiling as his lips parted ever so slightly. The book rose into the air but Gary made no sign that he was aware of it, or anything at all for that matter. The pages began to flip rapidly but even as they flapped in his face, they remained neat, uncreased, orderly. As they approached the ends of the book, the pages picked up speed until it snapped shut. Whatever enchantment it was under seemed to come to an end as the book began to fall to the ground, only to be caught by a thick, deft hand. Gary blinked, and smiled as he looked over the book once again. Gone was any design that might have been tattooed on it. The front and back were now identical smooth dark faces. He smiled to see his own name now written in bold gold lettering down the length of the spine. He popped the book open, to the page he knew the dedications would be written on. 

“To my neighbour, Gary, whose door is always open to me.”

Chuckling, he closed the book just as Ryan came out of the room.

“Hey Ryan.”

“Wha-uh, yeah dad?”

“Want to go trick or treating?”

“Uhhhhh, I thought I was grounded.”

“You still are mister but I can make an exception as long as you’re with me.”

Ryan looked as if he wanted to roll his eyes but the chance to get out of the house was too golden to pass up.

“...Ok, let me get changed.” Ryan said, before bounding back into his room, clearly eager to leave.

Gary smiled. He got up and stretched out his arms, flexing his fingers as he looked at them admiringly. He called out to Ryan.

“Let’s visit Mr. Quille next door first. I-uh, I mean he will be more than happy to see us, I should think.”

#daddy bear #bear #beard #suit #male possession #halloween #dad #father #object possession #clothes possession #vampire #jack-o-lantern #werebear #long story #frame story

[bonesaldente]

Ferocious I Darth Maul x Reader

Chapter 10: Trust

last chapter

all chapters

ao3

warnings: nudity, mildly suggestive language

words: 4000+

_____

note: For… reasons, this is an alternate universe in which space ships have actual showers with water, not just sonic showers. Also, Maul’s cybernetics are waterproof. I don’t make the rules... wait- I do. Also, make sure to read the end notes today :)

_____

Stars, you hate it here.

Everything, from the endless nights to the lack of clean water and the ever-looming prospect of going to prison increases your motivation to somehow fix the communicator yourself and run off before Kenobi can take you with him, leaving him stranded on the planet.

For exactly a decade, just to be even.

“It should work,” Kenobi remarks with very apparent annoyance. “Everything is connected and the power source is on.”

“Well, it’s obviously not working.”

“Thank you for your observation.” He drops his hands into his lap, looking quite defeated. And tired.

While you’ve been keeping some structure in your days, he’s been working tirelessly on repairing that communicator. Until he did tire out, occasionally.

Now was one of these occasions.

“I’m losing focus and I can hardly see anything. It’ll be best to continue when the sun comes back up again.”

Which is precisely what you were hoping he’d say, but you still force yourself to make another snide comment. “Maybe it’ll fix itself while you’re resting and we are magically transported off this planet.”

He pays you no mind and heads to what’s become his sleeping spot over the past days - or has it been over a week already?

“I trust you’ll keep watch?”

You just huff, but don’t refuse his request. It is an agreement you’ve come to quite early on when you both realized that the death of one would make the other’s survival significantly less likely. So while he sleeps, you make sure no animals sneak up and attack him, which, apart from the “dinner” incident a few days ago, only happened once, but still rattled him enough to make him remind you of your duty evry time he went to sleep.

Except tonight, you plan on shifting your attention to something completely different. 

You have not, in fact, come to terms with the probable reality that you’ll spend the rest of your days in a prison of the Republic. Instead, you’ve been observing what exactly Kenobi is doing to repair the life-saving device and despite your lack of aptitude in such things, you, too, see that the communicator should - in theory - work. Kenobi is overworked and agitated; it would only be natural for him to miss something.

Something you might be able to catch and use to your advantage.

 You remain still where you are until you hear his quiet breaths evening out, indicating he has fallen asleep.

“Kenobi?” You whisper into the silence, a last test to check if he is still conscious.

No response.

Your heart beats fast in your chest, all too aware of how pressing time is. For some reason, this man rarely sleeps more than two hours at a time, which could be partially blamed on you for always nagging at him when he isn’t trying to fix the communicator. But then again, you have the feeling that he usually doesn’t have very different habits.

With the kind of stealth only someone who has been trained in these arts could bring up, you sneak across the clearing to where the source of all your troubles and hope lies on the ground.

The device has been taken out of the starfighters cockpit and thus looks pretty out of place and… unfinished. But you know better, having watched the Jedi dismantle and reassemble every little piece.

The metal glints in the shine of your flashlight as you crouch to be on eye-level with the device. At first glance everything seems to be in order, just like the Jedi remarked, but that is not acceptable. Fixing the cursed thing before Kenobi is your only way to freedom and you will not allow your own incompetence to stand in your way.

So you look again. And again.

You shine light into every little corner, every port, under every wire and in between each panel. Time is passing too quickly, you are aware, and your chances are dwindling.

But then you see it.

Tiny and inconspicuous, something organic - a seed maybe - is blocking one of the loose wires from connecting with its respective port. 

You bite your lip to suppress a victorious exclamation, looking over your shoulder to check if Kenobi is still fast asleep.

Heart thrumming in your ears, you take a deep breath to calm your nerves and steady your hand for the task ahead. Cautiously, you lift some of the metal paneling to give you access to the section, fingers weaving through the wires with extra care since many of them are not firmly in place due to the crash and were only pinned to their receptors by Kenobi.

At last, your fingertips graze the disruptive piece of forest that has made it so far into the technology. Slowly, you remove it from its spot, moving the wire back to where it was supposed to connect.

Now let’s try this.

You turn the power on, holding your breath and praying to whatever force there is out there that it won’t make any noise.

A quiet whir is the only indication that the power is flowing, causing a small smile to creep over your hidden features. The display comes to life, faintly glowing blue. You throw looks over your shoulder every few seconds, hastily pressing the buttons to type in the private comm information Maul and all his commanding warriors kept as a backup for emergencies. You have no idea how many emergencies must have occurred in these past weeks, but you hope your message won’t be drowned out by others. This is the only shot you get.

You pick some coordinates that, if your knowledge of space navigation isn’t misleading you, should be a few miles north of your current location, then sign the message with ‘ -S ’ .

You stare at the numbers, forcing your mind to absorb them, then you hit send and a series of green lights tells you it at least went out successfully, meaning all you can do now is to hope that it will be received the same way. 

Kenobi is still fast asleep, chest rising and falling steadily. You almost feel sorry for what you’re about to do, but there really aren’t many alternatives. 

You take out a small vial from a pocket in your belt, filling a syringe with it. It’s been a while since you last used it, but you made sure you always have some tranquilizers on you, and now you’re thankful for that.

On your tiptoes, you sneak to Kenobi’s sleeping form, narrowing your eyes to make out the exposed skin on his neck.

The needle is buried in his neck in a matter of seconds and his eyes shoot open in shock and confusion while his hands fly to his neck.

“Why-”

“Nothing personal,” you assure him when his eyelids droop and his words lose coherence.

Normally, this should knock a person out for at least three hours, but you don’t know how a force sensitivity might influence that. One way or another, you should take off now and get as big a headstart as you can. But first, one more thing.

You give the heap of beige robes that is the Jedi knight one more almost regretful look, then you crush the communicator beneath your heel. Can’t risk him calling for Republic forces while you’re still in the area after all, and you’d have no way of taking the device with you, since it’s hooked up to the ship wreckage.

Why you spare his life, you don’t know, and you’d rather not spend too much time thinking about it. Perhaps you should kill him, after all he’s done to Maul, and why your conscience decides to pipe up now of all times will remain a mystery. You have killed people in less honorable ways, but…

“Ugh,” you grunt, finally turning your back on the Jedi and starting your journey north.

 *

 “Maul! Maul, come here!”

He jerks up, briefly having fallen asleep leaned against the wall. For a second, he fully expects to see your gleaming eyes staring back at him, that’s how familiar the voice is. It takes him a moment to understand that it’s not you, but Loa calling him.

Which is supremely peculiar, because the young woman rarely ever addresses him, let alone command him.

He is out of the room, your room, in a flash, looking over Loa’s shoulder at the message displayed a second later.

Both of his hearts seem to skip a beat.

The message consists of nothing but a set of coordinates, the only indication of its origin the ‘ -S ’ with which it is signed.

S as in… Spectress?

It must be you. There is no one else with access to this line of communication who would send this kind of message.

Loa gapes at the writing. 

“It’s… It’s her, isn’t it? It’s gotta be her, I’m…”

“Set course,” is his only response, sitting down in the copilot’s seat, several scenarios already running through his mind.

“Looks like some type of… forest moon,” She remarks, readying the ship for hyperspace with outstanding speed and routine. You weren’t exaggerating at all when you said she had become a good pilot.

He ponders for a minute. If you are somehow stranded there, they won’t need reinforcement, with their forces stretched thin as it is. But if any threats lurk nearby and he puts your little sister in danger…

He will die by your hand, then. Or his own.

“How long?”

“Estimate of four hours.”

“Very well. I will try to find out what to expect when we arrive there.”

 According to his sources, there has been no Republic activity in the system in question over the past month - that’s what he found out after two hours of vehement research. Really, he already knew that after thirty minutes, but you being so close yet so far from him drove him to bury himself in databanks and records by his spies.

His thoughts travel to a darker place.

He doesn’t know what state you’ll be in when he finds you - if he finds you. And even if you’re fine, everything else is far from fine. Mandalore, the crime syndicate and most of all, Savage…

Something on the dresser that takes up most of the cramped space clatters to the floor when he loses control of the chaotic force inside him and he flinches, immediately worrying he broke something of importance to you. After all, he has taken up residence in what used to be your small quarters on your ship, before everything happened, before you joined the Death Watch, before you saw him again.

When you were still living relatively safe, off the Republic’s radars.

Out of Master’s reach.

It’s been torturing him every waking moment to think that you might meet the same end that Savage did. The speculation of what could have been if he hadn’t reentered your life has become a constant in his mind. Because if he ever has to see the life fade out of your eyes, the way he saw the nightsister magick leave Savage when he exhaled his last breath, he isn’t sure he could forgive the galaxy. He vows to himself, already vowed to himself few days after he first laid eyes on you, that he will do anything to keep that fiery soul safe.

His fingers run over the cold piece of metal that has fallen, curiously examining it. No, not normal metal, beskar . There are letters forged into it, but they look like traditional Mando’a scripture, which he is still unpracticed in reading.

He contemplates putting it into the uppermost drawer, lest it get lost during more daring flight maneuvers, but he hesitates. He’s never opened any of the drawers, despite the very persistent curiosity he felt. The last he’d want is to invade your privacy; you hadn’t even consented to him sleeping in your private space (although he doubts you would mind after he has literally slept with you).

Maul makes up his mind and pulls the drawer open, not intending to even look, but his gaze still gets caught.

He expected to find clothes, maybe, or, knowing you, weapons. What he finds instead is a collection of… trinkets. 

It’s not new to him that you have a tendency to collect items, sometimes out of sentiment, sometimes as a trophy. He didn’t realize you kept them so meticulously stored.

It’s quite endearing, he thinks.

Some of the items he recalls you talking about, but others seem entirely random. His eyes linger on a piece of flimsiplast that looks like a child has drawn on it. 

He is tempted to take it out and hold it into the light, but quickly realizes that it would go against his original decision not to pry.

There is so much personal history collected in that small space. Dozens of untold stories, so many parts of your life that he missed.

He won’t rest until he knows you’ll still be able to tell them.

 *

 Oddly enough, you miss Kenobi. More precisely, you miss his ability to sense danger before it has reached you.

Every little noise startles you, every swish of wind making your heart stop and you increase your speed a little.

By now, you’re nearly running through the woods, less than half a mile away from the coordinates you chose.

Chances are, he has woken up by now. And you’re not stupid; you know it’ll be easy for him to track you down when there is no civilization around. From what your understanding of the force is, he should be able to sense your force signature from a larger distance when there is nothing else to disrupt it. That also means that he will be hot on your tail, so whoever shows up to rescue you better hurry .

With a heavy heart, you turn off your flashlight and lean against a tree while you remove your mask for better air supply and allow your eyes to adjust. It still takes so kriffing long, you wonder if that’ll ever change.

If Kenobi finds you first, it won’t make much of a difference.

You get moving again, slower but also less of a beacon in the dark.

The trees start coming in more sparsely now, until you can actually see farther than twenty feet without trees blocking your view. This allows you to pick up speed again and thus make up for the darkness that is slowing you down, until the landscape is so open that you’re actually running now.

And that’s when you hear them.

Branches cracking somewhere behind you. 

Probably just the wind. Keep going.

The dull thud of feet hitting the ground makes your breath catch in your throat.

So maybe he did wake up earlier than anticipated.

You whirl around, seeing nothing but his black silhouette and desperately wishing for a lightsaber, which you - unwisely - have sworn off after the Naboo incident. That, and running around wielding a lightsaber wasn’t exactly the level of subtlety you were going for at the time.

But now, you could really use it.

“I spared your life!” You yell.

“And destroyed my only way away from here,” he responds, sounding almost hurt as he makes slow steps towards you. You take just as many backwards.

Something in the sky beyond him catches your eye and suddenly, the situation looks different.

“I’ve got to look out for myself first,” you argue. “Surely, you understand that.”

“You know I can’t let you go.”

“I do,” you say serenely, taking a deep breath, then whirling around to make a run for it.

You don’t need to look over your shoulder to know he is following you and, even worse, gaining on you.

The small headstart you got, combined with the distance between you two in the first place isn’t nearly enough, even though you are in great shape and a truly fast runner.

The ship you spotted earlier now flies over your head, approaching the ground and you could laugh and cry at the same time. It’s not just any ship, it’s your ship. Your home, and aboard, you hope, your family.

It doesn’t touch the ground, but it flies low enough to be accessible from the ground while slowing to a speed that should allow for you to jump on, if you could only run a little faster.

Damn, ten years ago this would have been easier.

The blast door in the back, only about twenty feet away from you, slides open, revealing a figure that even in the dark you can make out to be…

Maul.

He extends his hand and you instantly know what he wants you to do.

So, you take a deep breath and jump .

The moment your feet leave the ground you feel the tug of the force pulling you to the zabrak while your own hand reaches forward and you fly through the air, until your hand finally reaches Maul’s.

You are not safe yet, still hanging from the edge of the ship when you suddenly feel a different pull on one of your ankles. Your eyes widen in shock and you try to tell Maul that it’s Kenobi, he is pulling you back, but all that you manage is a terrified shriek when your hand almost slips out of his at a particularly strong pull backwards.

Not this time, Kenobi.

Your determination sets in and you look down to see Kenobi standing still, arms extended to manipulate the force. With your one free hand, you reach for your blaster, aiming and-

The hold on your ankle abruptly loosens and you are yanked on board at once, the blast door sliding shut immediately, drowning out the deafening sound of wind.

You are panting, sprawled out on the floor, not even realizing that you did it .

“Hyperspace, as soon as possible,” you distantly hear Maul say, but the thrumming of your heart is too loud to properly hear his voice, until he somehow sits you up and…

Embraces you. 

Warm fingers run through your messy hair, soft murmurs that you can’t quite understand coming from right next to your ear.

“I’m filthy,” you protest weakly, half-heartedly trying to free yourself from his hold but he only holds on tighter and at last you melt into the affection, burying your face in his neck.

“Is Loa…?”

“In the cockpit,” he instantly calms your worries and you sigh happily. For a moment, everything is alright.

“What did I miss?” You eventually muster up the courage to ask.

His grip tightens so much you can feel his fingertips dig into your hip and you immediately know something bad happened.

“It was… Master. He killed Savage.”

Your heart sinks, the previous relief replaced by a dark type of sadness. There is anger and, most dominantly, fear.

The Sith lord doesn’t intend on letting Maul off, which by extension also means there is a target on everyone he surrounds himself with.

You can’t even find words to console him, only taking in a shaky breath against his skin and whispering, "I'm sorry."

"He's free now."

Eventually, you find the strength to get up, tiredly patting over to the cockpit.

“Hey.” Loa presses a few last buttons, then jumps up and crushes you in a tight hug.

“I thought I would never see you again.”

“You know me better than that,” you retort mildly.

“I suppose so,” she sighs, holding you at an arm’s length. “You need a shower,” she assesses, plucking a leaf from your hair.

Self-consciously you run a hand through the tangles, then look down at your muddy clothes.

“I agree.”

 Maul waits for you when you leave the cockpit, immediately taking your hand as if to reassure himself that you are truly there.

“Missed me?” You joke half-heartedly, doing nothing to hide the way the tension seems to melt from your body at the touch.

“Every minute,” he answers earnestly, not a hint of a joke in his voice.

“Come with me, then,” you offer, making your way to the refresher and pulling him along. As expected, he follows you all too willingly, thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

You don’t even bother undressing all the way before getting under the water stream, suddenly realizing how much you’ve been longing for it. While your clothes soak, the water pooling around your feet turns a muddy brown as the dirt from the forest is finally washed off.

Maul steps in the small shower behind you, holding a hand into the falling water.

“That’s cold,” he states.

“Not for me, it’s not.” You eye his frown. “But we can turn the temperature up.”

The heat does feel good, and not much later you finally attempt to peel off the remaining layers of clothing. Red tattooed hands come to your aid fast and within seconds, your skin is completely exposed, the stress of the past weeks running down the drain along with the dirt and… blood?

You bring a hand up to touch your forehead at the same time that a scowl makes its way on Maul’s face.

“Kenobi,” he growls, but you shake your head.

“That’s from when I crashed the starfighter.” You examine your bloodied fingers with moderate interest. “I think it’s healed already, that’s just dried blood coming off.”

He huffs, lightly running a finger over the area on your face.

“Any other injuries?” His eyes roam your body, not in a sexual, but in a concerned manner.

“None I can think of,” you sigh as he gathers soap in his hands, closing your eyes for a moment as the warm water runs over your face. When you don’t hear another noise from Maul, you open your eyes again, only to find him staring at you with something like bewilderment in his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

He responds by crashing his lips into yours, expressing so many emotions through his actions that he otherwise can’t find the words for. You very nearly fall at the suddenness of it, but his arms are wrapped around you in a heartbeat, pressing you into his chest and giving you the skin-to-skin contact you’ve been missing so terribly.

Your eyes water as emotions overcome you, the relief, the sorrow, the uncertainty and… guilt.

When you break apart, his are shining in a similar way.

 You lean against the weapons locker, facing the ceiling while you let the details of your situation soak in. The havoc that was wreaked on Mandalore by the resistant Mandalorians, the coming and going of the crime families, and the looming threat of Sidious’ grand plan finally coming together.

“I have a suggestion,” you begin slowly. “But you’re not going to like it.”

“Go on.”

“The Jedi are not our main enemy anymore, if what you foresee comes true.” You recall him talking about the envisioned destruction of the Jedi order, something that Sidious has been plotting for a long time. “If we give them the right tools to do so, it’ll be them who need to fight him, not you. Not any of us.” Your eyes dart to the cockpit where your sister is holed up.

“Tools, such as… knowledge?” He touches his chin the way he always does when he mulls over an idea.

“Sidious is but one man. He only thrives on secrecy, so if we-”

“A Jedi will never cooperate with a Sith .” He snarls. “Their self-righteousness wouldn’t allow it.”

“Maybe not.” You sigh with exhaustion. “All I know is that the better equipped the Jedi, the higher the chance of them actually defeating Sidious before it’s too late. And that’s why I have another proposition.”

“What is it?”

“We make a small transmission to the Republic fleet, sending them the same coordinates I sent you.”

“You’re trying to save Kenobi?” He doesn’t sound angered, he sounds… surprised.

“As much as I dislike him, he is one of their more capable knights, and it’s become pretty obvious he and his padawan are quite invested in uncovering Sidious’ identity.” 

You are astounded he even considers the idea. 

“Also, helping him could be interpreted as a show of good faith. Might get them off our back for some time, until we figure out who to fight,” you add.

For a minute, he remains silent. Then, his arm is wrapped around your waist and his lips brush over your temple.

“I trust your judgment,” he mumbles. “Do what you believe is right.”

___

SOOO, after a two week delay, I have elected to post once more... my bad. In the next 2-4 weeks I’d like to edit and improve the older chapters because I’m not 100% happy with the writing in them anymore, so because of that there won’t be another update during that time. Don’t worry though, I’m not done yet, the story will go on - just after a short break :,)

@princessayveke @spaghetti-666 @noiralei @larawl @secretnerd00 @bagpipes606 @zabrak-show @brilliantbutbatty @eleine-t1d

#darth maul #maul #darth maul x reader #maul x reader #darth maul x you

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Name on a Coffee Cup

Summary: Modern!Tommy has become quite the coffee addict after he stopped smoking. But he didn’t realize he had become a constant in one of the barista’s life. 

//Probably because I really miss my coffeeshop because of this quarantine. Thanks to @justanothershelby​ for helping me beta and finish this. 

         “’Morning, Tommy, the usual?”

         Tommy looked up from his wallet, thoroughly confused. The morning rush at the cafe was typical, even some of the faces in the line he recognized, the sounds of the espresso machines were intermixing with conversation as usual, everything was normal. But there was a slight change in the routine that Tommy took notice to. The moment he’d walked up to the counter, the barista greeted him by name. Sure, maybe it wasn’t so strange. He gave his name every time he ordered, but he figured the people who worked there wouldn’t remember every single person who came into the café.

         Then it hit him. Maybe he was a man of strict habit because he bought coffee from the same café every morning and sometimes got another one in the afternoon if he was having a particularly stressful day.

         But he could only blame Ada and Polly. It started with Ada reprimanding him for smoking so much. His own baby sister had suddenly taken it upon herself to lecture him about the dangers of smoking. As if he didn’t already know. He wasn’t an idiot he just wasn’t…confident about quitting. He wasn’t the type of person who enjoyed failing. And if he failed himself, it would just put him in a worse mood.

         Then Polly started sending him research about lung cancer and other dangers of smoking. She called him one night and asked ‘What would it do to Charlie if he had to come visit you in the hospital while you’re dying?’. Tommy didn’t appreciate his own son being used against him. But it worked.

         And with the help of his family, he managed to go off cigarettes for almost six months. It still wasn’t easy. He felt the urge to smoke every so often, not nearly as much as the first few months where he was basically tearing his hair out because he had no other stress reliever.

         Then he found he could be in a much better mood in the morning when he was sufficiently caffeinated. Thus, starting his routine of going to the café downstairs from his work.

         “Erm, yeah, please.” He nodded.

         The barista, Ava was the pretty brunette who Tommy saw often.  She could often be heard chatting amicably with coworkers or customers. She had a beautiful smile and even prettier eyes. And when their eyes met, Tommy felt a little lost for words.

         “Three-fifty-two.” She rang him up at the till. 

         For a moment, he didn’t register her words. He heard her speak but didn’t seem to pick up on the meaning. “Oh-right, sorry.” He mumbled and pulled out money.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

         That’s when he started to notice her as Ava had noticed him. Every day from then on, she greeted him by name. Sometimes she didn’t even ask whether his order was the same. Sometimes, she started his order when she saw him in line. That way his coffee would be out moments later. Sometimes they chatted if it was quiet enough. If he was reading the paper at one of the tables, she’d come around idly sweeping up or cleaning another table and strike up a conversation. She had an easy way of holding a conversation that made Tommy more relaxed around her. And that was no easy feat.

         On Valentine’s Day, she drew a heart on his paper cup. Tommy thought it was just something they were doing for the holiday, but he noticed no one else’s cup had any decorations. He left smiling that day.

         In April, the company was having a little ‘bring your child to work day’. Tommy was hesitant about the idea. He didn’t think bringing his toddler into the office was such a good idea. But Lizzie coaxed him into it. That morning, he walked hand in hand with Charlie to the café.

         “Let’s get daddy’s coffee, aye? You want something?” Tommy picked up his son so he could view the pastry case.

         Charlie’s eyes widened at the display of cakes and muffins and cookies. “Fin!” He jabbed a pudgy finger at the case.

         “Muffin? That one?” Tommy pointed out a double chocolate chip muffin that Charlie would most likely take a shine too.

         “Yeah!”

         “Alright, let’s go order then.” Tommy walked up to the till.

         “Morning, Tommy.” Ava smiled when she saw him carrying his son. “And who’s this?” She asked.

         “This is me son, Charlie. Charles, say hello.”

         The toddler giggled and shyly buried his face in the crook of Tommy’s neck.

         “Gonna get one of those chocolate muffins as well.” He added since it wasn’t his usual order.

         “Of course. Oh, he’s precious, Tommy. He’s got your eyes and everything.” She remarked with a coo.

         “Got his mother’s hair though.” Tommy chuckled.

         “Well, she’s so lucky to have such a cute little munchkin.” Ava rang up the order.

         “Oh well…” It was always a conflict within Tommy if a stranger or just an acquaintance brought up Grace. Did he correct them and tell them she was deceased? Or did he just let it slide and risk the chance of having them find out later? It was a tricky slope. “We lost her last year. But it’s nice that he looks a lot like her.” He cleared his throat and realized he was getting a bit too personal with her.

         “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Ava replied sincerely. “I can’t imagine it’s easy being a single parent.” She said as she went to the case to retrieve the muffin.

         Tommy dropped his change into the tip jar as he always did. “Well, it isn’t the easiest job in the world but it’s worth it, aye Charlie?”

         The little boy leaned his cheek on Tommy’s shoulder, a little bored with the conversation he didn’t understand.

         Ava beamed. “Of course it is.”

         “Do you have any kids?” Tommy had noticed in the past that she didn’t wear a wedding ring, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have kids or a relationship.

         “No, it’s just my dog and me.” She moved down the bar to start his coffee order. “Do you like dogs, Charlie?”

         “You like dogs, don’t you?” Tommy prompted his son to talk.

         “Ponies,” Charlie whispered shyly.

         “Yeah, that’s right, you like horses best. Just like dad.” He chuckled. “Sorry, he’s usually not this quiet.”

         “Oh, that’s okay.” Ava shrugged it off. “I was a pretty quiet kid too.”

         Tommy set Charlie down as they came to the end of the bar where they would pick up the coffee. The little boy came to the edge of the counter and stood on his tip-toes to see what Ava was doing. When she smiled at him, his face went red and he ducked.  

         “Here’s your muffin, Charlie.” Ava set the bag on the counter near his little fingers.

         “Thank you.” He said so softly it was lost in the ambience of the café. 

         “And here’s your coffee, Tommy.” 

         “Thank you.” He took it and made sure his son had a tight enough grip on the pastry bag. “See you tomorrow, Ava.” He tousled Charlie’s hair and led him back towards the door. 

         The next day, Tommy arrived at the cafe and Ava greeted him as usual. They exchanged pleasantries, Ava asking how Charlie liked going to work with his dad. Tommy explained that the young boy had spent the day drawing and pretending to make phone calls. 

         Before she handed him his regular order, she gave him a pastry bag. Confused, Tommy took it. “I didn’t order this.” 

        “No, I know.” Ava smiled and tucked a piece of hair back behind her ear. “I thought you might want to give it to Charlie. I mean it’ll be cold by the time you get home but if you stick it in the toaster it’ll be nice.” 

         “I didn’t pay for it though.” Tommy knew the amount he paid every morning by heart. She hadn’t added the muffin onto the bill. 

         “That’s okay.” She waved him off and went back to making his coffee. “It’s for Charlie.” 

         He smiled and nodded. “Well, he’ll appreciate it.” 

         The morning after, Tommy arrived again, a bit earlier so he could sit and enjoy his coffee in peace. 

         Ava was cleaning around the cafe so she didn’t take his order. But she did come to say hello once he sat down. 

         “‘Morning, Tommy.” 

         “Nice to see you.” He sat down and popped the lid off his coffee to let it cool down. “I should tell you, Charlie enjoyed the muffin. But I got a bit hungry on the way home so I ate half of it. He wasn’t happy when I arrived with just a half.” 

         Ava laughed. “Oh, poor boy. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” 

         “Hopefully soon.” Tommy felt the stress of his morning start to slip away. He always got into a different state of mind when he was with Ava. It was almost like being with Grace again. She had the ability of taking him out of his reality and just letting him unwind even for the briefest of moments. He wasn’t sure he’d ever find someone else who could do that. “In the meantime, he drew you a picture as a thanks.” He reached into his briefcase to retrieve the piece of construction paper that Charlie had insisted he bring to Ava that very day. 

         She put down her cleaning cloth. “Really?” She took the paper with a delighted look. “Oh, that’s so sweet.” 

         “I can assure you, that’s the first of many heading your way. Kid loves to draw and once he gets to know you, he’ll draw for you. So I hope you’ve got room on your ‘fridge.”

         Ava laughed softly and examined the crayon work. “So that’s…” She turned it so he could see. 

       “Oh, yeah he’s a bit of an abstract artist. Erm...he explained it to me. I think that’s supposed to be you, the blobby purple bit. I wouldn’t take his depiction personally.” 

       She was beaming. “Oh, no, I adore it. I look forward to more.” She gently folded the paper and tucked it into the pocket of her apron. 

       Tommy realized he was staring a bit. But he couldn’t help himself. Ava was beautiful but she could light up a room with her smile. It was indulgent to watch her eyes twinkle with such genuine emotion. 

       Then she met his eyes and her cheeks went red. Tommy cleared his throat and averted his eyes just to be polite. “Tell him, thank you.” 

         “Of course.” He nodded. “Um...could I see you again?” 

         She tilted her head to the side a bit. “You see me every day.” She reminded him with a coy smile. 

         He chuckled. “No, could I see you outside of work?” 

         Her lips parted a bit in surprise. “I-uh-yeah...yes.” She nodded eagerly before she reminded herself to play it cool. “I’d like that.” 

         “Yeah?” He smiled. “So, coffee maybe...nope I’m sorry.” He winced and shook his head. “You’re around coffee all fucking day you don’t want to go out to coffee.” 

          “Lunch maybe.” She stifled a giggle. Never before had she seen the businessman so flustered. He seemed like the kind of guy who always remained calm and collected. 

         “Yeah, lunch.” He agreed. “Lunch would be good.” 

         “Lunch would be great.”

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​ @biba3434​ @kimmietea​ @karmezii​ @enrapturedbythemoon​

Masterlist 

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelbyxoc #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #one shot #fanfiction one shot #fanfiction #cillian murphy #cillian murphy character #charles shelby #ofc #oc #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fookin blinders

[binxyu]

You’ve never really been in a relationship. Hyunjae knew that and it only made him want you more. You were so pure and he wanted to show you what real pleasure felt like. He wanted to be your first and last in everything.

>>Pairing: Lee Jaehyun (dom) x fem!reader (sub) | best friend!hyunjae x innocent!reader

>>Word Count: 3.2k

>>Genre: Oneshot / Requested / Smut

>>Warnings/Kinks: Cockwarming, corruption, cumplay, fingering, food, hair pulling, oral (receiving), overstimulation, possessiveness, scratching, size kink, spitting, and unprotected sex

“Hyunjae! Hold up!”, your best friend turned around when he heard his name, his eyes meeting your’s. A beautiful eye smile took the place of his once cold gaze, warming your heart immediately.

“Want to move our movie night to tonight? I have a date tomorrow”, you failed to notice how Hyunjae’s smile faltered from the mention of the date, but he fixed his expression quickly before nodding. He was jealous. He knew that.

But, it wasn’t like he really had a claim over you. He just wished he did.

“Sure, can you come over at six? I won’t be home before then”, his arm found its way around your shoulder as it always did. Hyunjae’s friends had already gotten into their cars, annoyed by the constant sight of you two. It was so obvious to everyone how in love you both were. Of course, you two didn’t pick up on that.

Friends don’t hold hands in public when someone gets too close to the other. Friends don’t give each other sweet kisses on the cheeks. And, most importantly, Friends don’t fantasize about each other.

Hyunjae would never admit it but his knowledge of your innocence fueled the deepest desires in his mind.

“That’s fine! I wanna get a stuffie for tonight so that sounds perfect”, you smiled happily and waved goodbye to him before running off. Hyunjae chuckled as he felt another wall come crashing down. A wall that protected his emotions from you.

He only had a few walls left before it would be too late.

Hyunjae heard the doorbell ring and he quickly made his way to the door, looking through the small peephole there to make sure it was who he was expecting. It was.

There you were. You were standing there patiently in one of the hoodies he had let you borrow with a pair of gym shorts underneath. If it wasn’t for the little glimpses of black he could see, he would have thought you weren’t wearing pants at all. 

But, what made his heart really pick up its pace was the big stuffed animal held tightly in your arms. He knew where you had gotten the big brown bear because you got them all at the same place.

It was the place you two had met. A little arcade on the other side of the city with as many claw machines as possible. They were crammed together, but you loved the little place and you never failed to spot the new stuffed animals in the machines. 

At first, you were horrible at the game and Hyunjae could only watch for a few hours from his place behind the register as you kept trying, spending all the coins you had gotten. You were determined and that was what attracted the man towards you. You never gave up even when it was unlikely you were going to win at all.

Of course, as an employee, Hyunjae knew all the tricks to getting what you wanted from those games and how they tricked their customers into doing exactly what you were. Spending all their money.

Thus, Hyunjae couldn’t resist and had helped you win as many of the cute animals as he could with what you had left. Even if it cost him his job.

“Got lucky again?”, Hyunjae grinned and the smile that spread across your face was so overwhelmingly sweet that it made butterflies erupt in his stomach. You quickly nodded and held up the bear for him to see better. 

His hands stroked the bear’s fake fur and he smiled, admiring how soft it was. 

Hyunjae’s eyes wondered around and he finally snapped back to reality when he realized all eyes were on you in his hallway, their eyes trailing down your body to your bare legs. 

You were much too innocent and dense to realize when people were checking you out and Hyunjae knew that. You always wanted to see the best in people and it was an admirable trait but a dangerous one too.

“Well, come inside then you lucky charm”, you giggled happily from the nickname, the taste of the cereal practically reintroducing itself on your tongue at the mention of your favorite breakfast. Hyunjae chuckled when he realized you were too busy fantasizing about food to come inside so he gently pulled you inside and closed the door, relief flooding through his system now that no more eyes were on you.

“Do you have any?”, puppy eyes were one of Hyunjae’s biggest weaknesses, especially when they’re from you. Hence why you were doing them to try to get the food you were now craving: lucky charms. 

Hyunjae was moving to shake his head to tease you, but you cut him off.

“Come on! It’s April Fools day! You have to have some kind of lucky or unlucky food. What kind of establishment is this?”, you whine playfully and your best friend laughed, picking you up easily and resting you on his shoulder.

“Alright alright. I’ll get you some lucky charms”, a happy smile spread across your face as Hyunjae set you down on a stool at the counter, fixing you a bowl of cereal.

“What movie should we watch tonight?”, you swung your legs as you took a bite of the cereal, humming from the sweet taste hitting your tongue. You resembled a chipmunk with your cheeks all stuffed with food and Hyunjae laughed as he thought of the perfect movie.

“Alvin and the chipmunks?”, your eyes widened in disbelief when you realized he only said that to tease you. You chucked your spoon at him like a toddler, flinging food onto the floor. 

“Hey! You brat!”, he huffed and your cheeks went red, embarrassment evident when you realized what you just did. You wouldn’t let him know that though. 

“Don’t call me a-”, you were cut off by a harsh tug on your hair, your lips connecting with Hyunjae’s as he held you close. Your body jolted slightly in shock before you relaxed, never having been kissed before. It felt foreign and weird at first, the pieces not fitting quite right at first.

Hyunjae guided you through it, tilting your head slightly and everything was finally perfect. You kissed him back shyly as his large hands cupped your cheeks reassuringly. To him, you, and everything you were doing, was perfect. 

“Oh, believe me, you’re a brat”, his teasing smirk was put on display when he pulled away, looking at how swollen your lips had become from just one kiss.

“An innocent little brat”, even if you were more innocent that most people your age, you could hear the underlying meaning behind Hyunjae’s words. You felt arousal sticking to your thighs and, while that too was foreign, you knew what it meant. 

You only felt that way when Hyunjae was around and now it was so much worse. 

You gulped and Hyunjae noticed, making a grin appear on his handsome face. His hands cupped your face again as his eyes scanned your every feature, specifically the shy way your eyes wandered around the room to avoid his piercing gaze and the bright blush on your cheeks. 

“You’re so adorable. I could just eat you up”, your eyes made the mistake of wandering back when you heard his voice and something predatory was hidden in Hyunjae’s. Your gaze didn’t dare move away from his own as a new found bravery filled your mind. You knew what you wanted. You wanted him.

“Then do it”, that was probably the most filthy thing Hyunjae had ever heard you say. He didn’t even think you were capable of thinking such things, but here you were. It was all he needed to hear.

“My pleasure, princess”, he walked around the counter, your bowl of cereal long forgotten now that you knew something much more delicious was waiting for you. Hyunjae picked you up and laid you down on the table, noticing the nervousness in your body. You were shaking and worry overtook his lust.

“Are you sure you want this?”, he pressed his forehead against your’s softly in hopes to calm your anxiety. You nodded quickly but paused when you decided to voice your concerns.

“What if I’m not up to, um, standards? I don’t know what I’m doing”, Hyunjae immediately shook his head, pressing a gentle kiss to your head. That alone calmed your shaking immensely, warmth rushing through you now that you felt safe.

“You will be. Just let me take care of you, okay?”, you nodded and relief had overridden Hyunjae’s worry. He slowly pulled your shorts and panties down your legs, opting for keeping the hoodie on you as his own little reminder that it would mean something else by the end of the night. It would no longer just be a friend’s hoodie. It would be a lover’s hoodie.

It was so big on you and Hyunjae had to push the piece of clothing up to your waist to see what he was really after. There, on his dining table like a piece of dessert, was the thing he had been longing for for months. 

“Aw, you’re so wet”, the man cooed and you squirmed when you felt his cold breath where you needed him most. That alone was more pleasure than you had ever received by yourself. The truth was: you had no clue how to make yourself feel good. You noted in your mind to remind yourself to ask Hyunjae how to later.

“Ready?”, the softness of your crush’s palms against your thighs as he spread them open surprised you, making your eyes fall to between your legs. Hyunjae looked up at you, his eyes dark with hunger as met your face.

“Ready”, the words fell from your lips after a deep breath, your back arching as soon as Hyunjae’s lips surrounded your clit, sucking on the engorged nerve. It almost seemed like the man had read your mind about your previous note as his hand guided your own down to your leaking hole. 

Your mind was too fuzzy from the pleasure, but you could register how your own middle finger began to stretch you out. You were so tight and small that even that burned a little, but you ignored it as a loud moan spilled from your lips.

Hyunjae chuckled, sending vibrations to your clit as his eyes looked down a little, watching as your desperate pussy clenched around your small finger. His own hands rubbed little circles on your hips as your legs shook, a clear sign of your approaching orgasm.

“W-what is happening?”, your voice was small and weak, making Hyunjae fill with pride that he could make you this ruined this fast. 

“You’re going to orgasm, princess. Just relax and let it happen”, the knot in your stomach grew more powerful as Hyunjae moved your own finger away and replaced it with his own much longer and larger ones, scissoring your tight hole open. The knot finally snapped and your body thrashed as the overwhelming pleasure released. Hyunjae slowly thrusted his fingers to help you ride it out and placed soft kisses on your thighs before he pulled them out. 

“You’re already such a mess and we’ve just started”, a whimper fell from your lips as Hyunjae’s kisses trailed downwards and he used his hands to spread open your lips, the sight of your glistening hole entering his vision. He licked his lips and thrusted his tongue inside of you, swirling the muscle around to collect your cum and taste you.  

“You taste just as sweet as your food”, a small laugh filled the room and you giggled, knowing that he meant the cereal that you were eating. Your laugh was cut short though when he dove back in, being insatiable now that he had finally had a taste of you.

Your eyes watered from the overstimulation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop Hyunjae. Not when he seemed so happy and you felt this good. You had never felt this good before. Even with the little bits of pain mixed in.

Your hands tugged on Hyunjae’s hair and he stopped, looking up at you with worry. You gave him a reassuring smile to let him know that you were okay, but the sight of your juices running down his chin made another wave of want go through you. Now you really needed him to ruin you. To take you.

“I’m ready”, he understood what you meant and he picked you up, giving you the most loving and tender kisses he could as he brought you to his room. Your back hit his soft bed once he lowered you onto it and you looked up at him, smiling as you gently twirled a strand of his hair with your finger. 

His hands worked on unbuttoning his jeans and you shook your head with a small pout. That pout alone almost made Hyunjae rip his clothes off and just take you like he wanted to.

“Let me do it”, you sat up and tried to unbutton them the best you could. It took a little longer than you expected but you did it and Hyunjae gave you a proud smile when he saw your victorious one. 

“You’re acting like you just won a reward”, Hyunjae teased as he gently shoved you back to lay down as he took his shirt off, watching as your entire face went red.

“Hey! It was hard”, there it is again. That pout. 

“Well, there’s something else harder”, his eyebrows wiggled playfully as he started to slowly push himself inside of you, a groan escaping his mouth as he can practically feel himself splitting you open. A gasp escapes you and Hyunjae kisses you to help ease you through it, a gentle kiss that told you it would all be better in a few minutes. 

His thumbs gently wiped away your tears and he watched as your chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm as pleasure overtook the pain. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you gave a short nod before you looked down at your stomach. 

Hyunjae followed your gaze and groaned at the sight of his bulge so evident in your lower tummy. His hand trailed down to stroke the skin above it, moving his hips slightly to feel the bulge move beneath his hand.

“Fuck, look how good you’re taking it. You’re made for my cock, hmm?”, you immediately nodded, not a doubt in your mind now that he was here hovering above you, his cock buried so deep inside of you that you think it’s rubbing against your cervix. 

“Y-yeah I’m made for it. Move please”, the slight shakiness in your voice made something snap inside of Hyunjae and he pulled out of you only to slam back in much faster and harder. Your nails dug into his shoulders from the sudden return of the pleasure, a divinely beautiful moan coming out of you. 

You gasped when you heard a slam against the wall beside you and Hyunjae laughed, kissing you gently before he explaining. 

“We might have to be a little more quiet”, excitement and embarrassment  bubbled in the pit of your stomach when you remembered you were in an apartment building. Apartment buildings result in many apartments and many... neighbors. 

Hyunjae smiled at you before he looked down and you felt something cold hit your skin. Looking down, you realized he spat on your cunt, thrusting it inside of you to help ease himself even deeper inside of you. 

That sight alone made another orgasm start to build up inside of you as his big cock kept hitting that perfect spot inside of you. Hyunjae noticed and quickly shoved two of his fingers inside of your mouth to keep you quiet. You sucked on them as if they were a lollipop you had been craving for years. Not that that was too much of an exaggeration.  

Hyunjae just couldn’t stop staring at you. The girl he thought was so innocent was now so corrupted by him. It was everything he had ever dreamed of. You below him with his dick shoved deep inside of your little pussy, his fingers in your mouth, and scratches down his back. 

The only issue was that you hated hurting others and you realized you were scarring Hyunjae’s back. Your eyes looked around for anything else to hold onto reality and you laid eyes on your big stuffed bear. You gripped it and held it in a tight hug, making Hyunjae’s cock twitch inside of you. 

While he loved the scratches on his back, seeing you holding onto something seen as innocent while he ruined you was even better.

“How cute. Can you not take it?”, your eyes rolled back as Hyunjae started thrusting faster, your nails now digging into the toy you had worked so hard to get only a few hours prior. Your legs shook and you tried to close them to slow him down only for Hyunjae to use his free hand to keep your legs spread. Your cunt clenched around him and he could feel his own orgasm approaching, his cock begging for release. 

Cumming inside of you would be beautiful and sloppy, but Hyunjae had other ideas as he rubbed your clit. You came all over his cock with a muffled whine as you sucked harder on Hyunjae’s fingers in hopes to keep yourself quiet. 

Hyunjae pulled out and came all over lower half, coating your thighs and lower stomach in his seed and who he had considered to be the most innocent person in the world was now covered in his filth. 

Heavy breathing was heard for a while before the man finally pulled his fingers out of your mouth and looked you in the eye as he used them to smear his cum around, trying to smother it across any surface he could. 

“I ripped him”, your eyebrows furrowed adorably as you looked down at the slight tear in the bear’s arm. 

“We’ll fix him, baby. Don’t worry”, Hyunjae moved to lay beside you, wrapping his arms around you. He could feel his cum rubbing onto his own skin from the close proximity but he could care less.

“Okay! What was it like for you?”, your eyes lit up with curiosity as you thought about if you had done good. All you wanted was to make Hyunjae happy.

“Like a warm hug. It was amazing”, you looked at his face for any sign of lying and he shook his head in disbelief, kissing all over your face. An idea popped into your head as you rested it underneath his chin.

“Then can we sleep like that? The warm hug?”, it wasn’t Hyunjae’s intention for you to associate hugging with sex, but he couldn’t complain. Not when it was so cute.

“Of course. Let’s hug”, you grinned and wrapped your own arms around him, hooking your leg around his waist so he could slide back inside of you. 

And you two slept, feeling completely together through your “hugging”.

#binxyu #hyunjae #lee jaehyun #tbz #the boyz #tbz oneshots #the boyz oneshots #tbz smut #hyunjae smut #the boyz hyunjae smut #the boyz hyunjae #tbz headcannons #tbz imagines #the boyz imagines #kpop smut #kpop imagines

[fulcrum-agent]

008. Adroid [FFXIVwrite2021]

"So just...pick a big room?" she asks the punkish apparition, head canting a little.

The redhead nods, smirking a little. "You're a clever girl, Quil - I trust ya won't pick somewhere with so little space, the bulkheads get blown up."

There's the briefest moment of blue screening brain at the compliment, but it's gone in a microsecond.

"'Cept when it comes to that other thing you brought up," she chides, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. "That was stupid as fuck, and we're gonna be discussin' it when you're done kicking this Miqo'te about."

Quila can't help but wince, giving the Arcadia a sheepish expression.

All the apparition does to such is wave her hand a little dismissively. "I said later. Call your new potential toy - just be sure ta gimme a show~."

Then just like that, Quila's alone again. Sort of. Mostly. Sighing, she reaches up for the linkpearl that's paired to her tomestone. "Karuis...found us a place to train."

"Ah, and here I thought I was gonna resign to watching the rain bounce off the bulkhead. Where am I meeting you?"

Xe has busied xemselves with taking up a curled up position somewhere in one of the Outlaw's more out of the way pieces of real estate, some cross beams nearby to some of the larger guns. Xe hops down from their Miqo accessible locale as xe wait for the exact location, tail flicking idly behind xem.

"You grab a place ground side, I assume?

"Nah. Arcadia's letting us pick a room," she explains but doesn't. "I figure one of the cargo bays is gonna be best, yeah?"

She's already making her way through the massive ship. She's trying to find where the cargo bays actually are, given she's near the bridge out of habit.

"Long as we have permission, that's fine with me. And aye, cargo bay works fine."

Xe didn't really require an explanation, everything after talking house, living through the memories of others, a massive skeleton trying to kill xem, and whatever the fuck the past few moons have been...

Xe assumes the Arcadia is just as alive as anyone else, and she told Quila what room to use. As xe make their way over to the other airship, xe give some idle thoughts to where precisely in the cargo bay they were meeting before deciding that finding out could be the adventure. Xe gives a slight bow of respect as xe come aboard the Arcadia before xe start moving like a shade through the halls, the map the Viera had shown before of this great airship bouncing about between their ears; as xe try to find... oh, there she is. By providence, luck, or maybe just The Arcadia being well designed xe spot the Garlean and give a half-wave, tail flicking behind xem.

"Didn't get lost, did we? Would be a little concerned if you did."

"Pfft, she'd let me if only to watch in sadistic amusement," she chirps as she turns, startling a little physically due to their lack of footfalls. "But, there are multiple cargo bays here. This is just the first one I've found. This ship is MASSIVE, and I feel like it's some sort of game to her to not just...give me a map."

"I could certainly see that; watching people wander around aimlessly can be pretty hilarious." The Seeker blinks at the noise before rubbing the back of their head as xe put on a small smile. "Sorry, someone had the bright idea to put a bell on me when I was young, fucking menace ever since, apparently. But! I have a map.. kind of, at least I remember the floor plans or whatnot. Rika managed to snag, so I mostly know my way around.. but that doesn't stop me from being thankful that I haven't gotten lost.. yet."

Xe glances about the cargo bay for a moment before turning their gaze back to her and motioning to her, finding a nearby support beam to lean on.

"So, what's the plan for today? Am I starting with teaching you the basics of Thavnarian dance fighting, or are we sparring to see where you are in hand to hand generally and working from there?"

At this point, she's in a pair of shorts (black), stockings (dark purple), her almost-trademark boots (black & gold), and one of those tank tops that the Isghardians were handing out to crafters (wine red). While she doesn't have Talekeeper with her, at least, as far as can be seen, she's still wearing the Warmage magicite Locke'd given her as a pendant to the collar she seems to wear 24/7.

When he speaks of the bell, she ends up giggling a little, trying to picture xe with a collar bell...which was surprisingly easy.

"I'm thinking we try some hand-to-hand so you can figure outplacement," she notes with something of a wicked grin, suddenly ramping towards manic. "Just don't go easy on me."

Xe has swapped over to something more warm with their Bozjan coat now missing for The Twelve only know how long. So the Seeker has thrown on a currant purple anemos gambison, some modified jet black strife pants, and one of their constantly swapping pairs of combat boots, these ones an Alliance make in soot black. Xe still has the twin onyx and dark amber revolvers gifted to xem by Locke on their belt though, besides that, xe aren't carrying any type of polearms. The two accessories that stand out are a watch on their left wrist that has a faint hint of aetheric energy coming off of it and a dull grey gunmetal tin clipped on their right, just about the size of a soul stone.

Xe raises a brow at the snickering and just shake their head a little; that smile from before staying before it turns into a grin at she's request.

"I wasn't planning on it; it wouldn't be an accurate assessment if I did take it easy. So I'll give you one warning before we do go; if you're gonna try and flow again, I'll start using my stone. On your mark, Aquila."

As soon as those words leave the Seeker, their demeanour switches with all the effort of a light switch, mismatched gaze narrowing as xe drop into a defensive stance, the style more reminiscent of an Imperial martial discipline than anything else.

"I uh...kinda don't know how to make those moves otherwise, so game on?" she replies as she falls into...absolutely no stance. There's nothing. Her stance is absolutely neutral all around, and suddenly, all but the most necessary of movements evaporates as she begins to focus on xem. It's slow, but there's a pronounced shift in her entire being, down to an aetheric level. A change she doesn't seem to be aware of.

She's almost maddening to fight. Any and all movement happens with barely a microsecond of warning, yet all of them still flow as though she's dancing, not fighting. Even watching the triangle, her telegraphs are tiny as hell; she always falls back to neutral if there's time, otherwise flowing from one motion to the next as xe fight.

And just like that, she blinks into the Lifestream to close the distance, ejecting just in reach of xe - as she had on the deck, only this time with the intent of actually striking him right in the solar plexus.

Xe would have clarified that xe head meant the blinking manoeuvre, but when xe takes in that she lacks stance, any of those thoughts leave xir mind. The Seeker catches the shift instance, their ears pinning back and tail puffing up as xe prepare for that same focus xe encountered on the deck of The Outlaw.

The dance-like flow to the spar thus far and the speed on display put the Seeker right in their element, moving with all of the grace that being both a Miqo'te and professional performer granted them as xe keep in sync with the Garlean. The Seeker shifts between and around styles like breathing the longer the fight goes on, prodding and poking at her defences to find her responses and strengths to certain things. The Seeker seems to favour a style favoured by Doman resistance cells, sending out elbows and fist and knee strikes in rapid succession.

Like a viper, the Seeker waited for that shift in the air as she went into the Lifestream. Xe know that point for point, xe weren't going to be able to match the manoeuvre for sheer speed, so instead, xe rely on the anticipation of the strike's previous flow. With an utter lack of hesitation, the Seeker moves to send out a swift dragoon kick, less focused on power but more on sheer speed as it snaps the air around the two. xir's body twists for the kick and hopefully moves the blow to somewhere less disastrous should it land. Xe was not about to hold back here, she deserved the Seeker at their best, and xe weren't one to disappoint.

Given that xe is a clever catte, xe'll quickly pick up on certain hallmarks of what she's capable of combatively: one of her biggest strengths is the lack of movement telegraphing, as it makes finding any sort of opening complex, at first. While her eyes seem to be unfocused, she locked onto the triangle that's formed by the Miqo'te's collarbones and sternum, that distant gaze seeming to more stare into their soul than past xem.

Blinking back into a kick sends her strike wide, the palm of her hand skimming along the side of his leg as she adjusts to try and block the kick before sliding around the side of Karius' body. Should she slide past him, her next attack is towards the middle of his lower back - another snapping strike with a bit of aether behind it, her second hand following to make a small follow-up strike.

With a better sense of what xe were working with when it came to her, the Seeker decides to switch up tactics. Xe shifts energy from trying to read the Garlean's movements to instead focusing on following through on their own and keeping a sense of spatial awareness in the room. Xe decides to eat the strike to their lower back, the energy needed to counter that far too much of a gamble; the weaker follow-up was a different story, however.

Turning on a dime on their heel, xe move to face she, using the speed and momentum of the rapid turn to try and veer the strike off to their left with their palm. Now fully facing she and the distance relatively short, xe go on the offensive, taking a far more aggressive stance as xe unleash a combination of palm and knee strikes. Xe wasn't relying on all of them to hit but instead overwhelming the other fighter with a complete switch from their previously tight defence. Xir's aim at the moment seemed to get the two of them out to a far smaller section of the cargo bay or at least push them to fight closer to this area.

Surprisingly, she doesn't smile at landing the strike. In fact, her expression is little more than deadpan as xe launch the continuous series of strikes. At first, she manages to keep up on blocking or redirecting the hits, but the longer xe continues the tactic, the more she has to pivot or dodge than she does block. Finally, it's becoming clear xir is going to overwhelm her with the rapid strikes...

...and as the Miqo'te overwhelms her, she blinks into the Lifestream, crossing through xe before flashing back into existence at their back. She's already executing a roundhouse kick as she solidifies, aiming for her opponent's middle back.

The Seeker was not about to let up the advantage of xir's rapid combos as xe continues to press her further into the smaller section of the cargo hold, boots squeaking against the metal floor as their speed increases. xe were, however, incredibly aware that xe couldn't keep it up forever; either she would come right for their throat or-

The sensation of being teleported through gets xem to shiver, warning xem what may be coming alongside dreading that blink. Unfortunately, there just isn't enough time for xem to dodge the strike, at least not in a way that wouldn't give her another big opening to exploit. So xe quickly turn on their heel and brace their arms up to catch the blow, which still sends the Seeker sliding back and does some solid damage. Xe hiss in pain as xe take a moment to centre xemselves before rushing into the Garlean's space. xir's method swaps now to something far faster, using their stone to gather as much momentum and speed as xe can while bleeding into these dancer-like strikes and spins. Thavnairian dance fighting, and xe gave her a crash course like an Imperial locomotive coming down the tracks.

Active learning at this speed is possible for the Warmage, though it was more of a slow build-up rather than a sudden gift of knowledge the way it can be when there's less going on. Falling back to focusing on dodging more than redirecting or blocking, xe would start to notice the more xe does a particular mood or technique, the more likely it is that she works it into her side of the fighting. With movements the Miqo'te's using heavily, she can almost perfectly mirror them; with the less frequent movements, she's a little unstable and erratic, her form nowhere near as tight and proper.

The continued attacks again start to press her, causing her to play defensive more than offensive.

Xe's next high kick ends with a different result: she doesn't attempt to block, redirect, or dodge such the way she has been. No, instead, she just...bends back at the waist, forming an almost perfect arch as her hands drop to the floor behind her. And then she pushes her feet off of the floor, intent of kicking her opponent with each foot as she shifts into a handstand before vaulting from such to her feet - facing xe, but several fulms away now.

As xe starts to notice she putting xir's techniques into her fighting styles and the like, that.. certainly gets a reaction from xem. But, then, something snaps from behind their crimson and amber eyes. The Seeker continues darting into she's space as much as xe can up until that next high kick, eyes going a bit wide as xe watch that arch and then the kick lands.

The hit lands nicely and sends xe sliding back, getting their tail to puff up and to show off their sharp canines, which are considerably sharper and pointed than even a vast majority of Keepers. Unfortunately, this fact doesn't stay in the spotlight for long as black aether sparks around xem as xe concentrates on their stone and go on an onslaught. Xe was going to put pressure on the fact she couldn't precisely copy their techniques perfectly or keep up with their speed to the same extent. If she continued using flow, then xe wasn't going to go easy, sending forth kick after dashing elbow to shin strike. One of the main strikes xe go into xe get right in her face and attempt a sweeping kick the Garlean before spinning into another kick to her midsection.

The initial onslaught causes her to start losing ground rapidly, causing her to dart backwards as she refocuses on trying to dodge as many of the strikes as possible. However, the moment the Seeker starts to focus on her face, she blinks backwards three separate times - putting as much distance as possible between them. Although she retreats, xe' leg sweep fully lands while the second is more of a light graze across her stomach.

She crashes to the floor as she exists the Lifestream the third time, rolling several times due to the force of the impact. Such is only stopped when the back of her upper body slams into the metal wall with a loud clanging thud. For a few heartbeats, she's propped up against the wall before her eyes fully roll back into her head as she falls sideways.

Xe was in the zone and was hard-pressed to get out of it, especially with the amount of blinking around the place that she was doing. Despite the serious expression on their face, xe were having so much fun with all of this. Xe goes to try and bring down another combination when xe hear that crash.

Xe pauses a few fulms away from the Garlean before their eyes go wide, and xe dart over to her side. Then, cursing under their breath as xe tries to force xemselves to not only calm down but try to figure out what might be wrong with their limited medical experience.

"Shit, shit... Aquila, are you alright?"

((Adapted from an RP session with Karuis.))

#ffxivwrite2021

[readerinsertfanfiction]

Code: Red

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

A/N: @yenanng​ keeps on creating wonderful pieces of art that makes me want to write Ikesen Cyberpunk. We’re continuing to explore Atlantis with Masamune, this time with Mitsunari at his side. I also managed to introduce reader, poor reader. 

Appeal | 

As a penal colony Atlantis has an extensive security system that protects the inhabitants of the city, but also is meant to keep the people inside under control. The Citizen Credit System being the most obvious example of crowd control. However, there are more systems in place, noticeable or not. One of them is largely unseen and most of the time barely noticed unless chaos breaks out. It is the very last security measure that Atlantis has and with that also the toughest. To the citizens of Atlantis, first generation and those born within the city the system is merely known as: Code: Red, for when this security system is triggered the usually blue casted city, bathing in neon light, becomes a bright and alarming red colour. It is also the moment in which the entire city shuts down, forcing all citizens back to their homes as nothing is accessible anymore.

Code: Red was about to be triggered.

With Masamune standing watch over the entrance of Atlantis, eyes focused on the security guards unloading the goods, there was someone hard at work underneath all these layers of security to bring the man the sign he needed.

“Mitsunari?” Masamune growled, his voice impatient as he was eager to enter into action. The one-eyed daredevil was not made for idleness and waiting, but he had to if he wanted this plan to succeed. After all, it was a critical one.

“I’m in!” a voice chirps, sweet and light in tone. It contradicted the dark nature of the task at hands, but it was so very fitting to the man from whom it came. Mitsunari Ishida was someone one would never expect in the city of Atlantis, and perhaps that would have been true if it wasn’t for his parents. As a true second-generation Atlantis inhabitant Mitsunari knew no better than that the penal city was his cage and home.

“Just give me a bit more,” Mitsunari’s voice sounded through Masamune’s helmet. If one was to look at the other side of the line they would see a young man tapping away happily at flashing screens and lines of codes that he seemed to comprehend with perfect understanding and speedy interpretation. It helped that he was familiar with the screens pulled, having reviewed them beforehand for an efficient execution, but of course with an security system this advanced there were always bound to be complications that even took Mitsunari some time to break through.

And just as Masamune was to count down the seconds in which he would speed off anyway, sign or no sign, a blaring alarm sounded through the city. The screens that usually displayed the latest news, or other information that interested the populace turned black before angry red letters scrolled past informing the citizens on the street that the city was about to shut down. The traffic on the road all found themselves blocked, as traffic lights turned red and the blockades pulled themselves up. Masamune could see the display of his vehicle also flash an angry red, though unlike the rest of the city his would still drive despite the interruption.

Atlantis was cast in red, the security of the city running around to coordinate the people, whilst the guards that had been unloading the goods had to stop their job and seal everything off until further instructions.

This was Masamune’s sign, and in his ears he could hear Mitsunari once more cheer in that jovial tone; “done!”

A wicked grin splashed across Masamune’s face as he revved up his motor, racing down from the height that he had been watching from as he could hear a beeping and blinking from the other side of the communication, the hum of the anti-gravity shield hard at work underneath his vehicle to catch the reckless fall.

“Good luck, mr. Masamune!”

The male could only chuckle at the politeness of the hacker, but it endeared him, just as it amused him to hear Ieyasu and Hideyoshi nag about the dangers he put himself through.

The guards were still in disarray, some of them standing watch surrounding the goods that had just entered, the other half stuck in the cubicle with their ankles still in the water. Code: Red had caused the doors of Atlantis to shut off as well, meaning that the water suction to the elevators was paused and thus disabling the doors from opening.

Child’s play, honestly.

As the guards outside rounded up, trying to secure the tank in which they had their goods stored Masamune swept in, circling around the guards who in a startle all left their jobs unattended as the attention drifted towards the madlad that had raced right into their hands.

“You shouldn’t be here!” one of the guards pointed out the obvious, “immediately return to the city and get home, it is not safe!”

The order was laughable to Masamune who geared up his motor once more, the sound roaring through the bleating alarm.

“Yet here I’m. I suppose that makes me the danger, not?” the one eyed dragon responded, his voice dropping an octave as he then drove right at them, towards the truck.

On instinct the guards jumped to the side, abandoning their precious goods brought in, forgetting their post as they valued their lives. The weapons were all but forgotten until Masamune produced one of his own. From the side of his arm a blade flipped out, the sharp end of it glowing up a bright blue contrasting the red shade in which they found themselves.

Easily Masamune landed on top of the truck, leaping off his motor as he stared down at the guards surrounding him below, most of them taking aim with their guns. It was exactly the thrill he had been hoping for, but Ieyasu was grumbling in his ears, telling him to hurry and use the contraption and Masamune was left with little choice but to pull out the smoke bomb from his pocket and blind the rest.

It was ironic how such an ancient contraption could still find its use in this hypermodern city. It was only the flash of his blade that could still be distinguished, but none of the firing guards seemed to be able to take proper aim at him, hitting air all the time. Sliding himself down to the front and cutting the door open Masamune was quick to pull out the guard inside as he climbed in, his other hand pushing in a chip into the key of the truck before he pressed down the gas.

“Go!” he ordered, and from the other side a sequence of actions followed up after each other once more. The dashboard of the car lit up once more and the vehicle came to life. Masamune was good to go. That is, if he could see, but even that didn’t daunt the man when he immediately started with a sharp turn to the left.

“Directions!” he called, though it was clear that Masamune didn’t care for them much. Luckily someone else did.

“Start with a S pattern favouring the right,” Ieyasu’s voice sounded, tense and clipped, mind focused on making sure that Masamune wasn’t about to run anyone over, or do worse.

“Shall I open Gateport 8 leading up to line Z?” Mitsunari piped up, earning a grunt from Ieyasu in approval.

“Give me the left side!” Masamune chipped in, finding the conversation amusing and even more when Ieyasu made a clear disgruntled voice and heaved a sigh.

“Don’t do that. RIGHT--- No, just. Masamune, left--- Eugh, open both sides, Mitsunaru. Who knows if you even (right, right!) know which side is left.”

Laughing heartily Masamune steered as per Ieyasu’s instructions, the stress evident in the voice of the young blond.

“Both sides sound like a good plan! Line Z is empty anyway,” Mitsunari chirped, in response, unaffected as ever by Ieyasu’s jabs as he continued his work, moving away the blockades for Masamune to pass.

“Do you know which side is left?” Masamune continued humorously, never missing an opportunity to have a little extra fun to the side.

“We don’t have ti--- Swerve!”

“Left is the hand that makes the ‘L’-sign right?”

The choir of sighs and laughter after Mitsunari’s answer blended with each other in a familiar tone.

“You should be able to see now, I’m logging off.” Disgruntled Ieyasu did exactly as he had said once Masamune had moved himself out of the smoke, clearing up his sight once more.

“Ah, but you seem to have a passenger, lord Masamune!” Mitsunari’s innocent addition earned a genuine expression of surprise from Masamune who whipped his head to the side, staring straight at one last guard he had missed from earlier.

“But no one concerning, I believe!” Mitsunari’s assessment came, a profile lightening up from the dashboard that revealed the identity of the guard, “a new recruit, you see? First day on the job, and judging by the heart rate right now the poor thing is startled.”

Had this report come from anyone else Masamune would have felt sorry for the recruit next to him. However, Mitsunari was incapable of throwing out genuine insults and thus the man could only laugh it off, noticing that the guard was indeed arrested in all movements and reactions, curled up into themselves as they held the handles for dear life.

“Do you like my style?” Masamune questioned, but he didn’t wait for the answer, pushing in the gas further as he sped off even faster.

“I will pull up the walls behind you!”

Mitsunari’s angelic helpfulness was what made the whole operation even better in Masamune’s opinion.

Mitsunari Ishida:

Political Integrity: 8/9 Economic Credibility: 9/9 Social Integration: 7/9 Judicial Credibility: 8/9 Total: 8978

Second generation Atlantis habitant

Grew up in a state-orphanage, however as his parents died young

Got picked up by Hideyoshi who noticed the wasted potential in Mitsunari

Fastest and nicest hacker of Atlantis, but in overall an logistics expert

Never had to write an appeal, everyone finds it hard to believe that he can misbehave at all

Is known for his terrible sense of direction, but still knows where everything is located on a map

Usually will say yes to whatever request is made of him without any questioning, he just has to like you

#ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen masamune #ikesen mitsunari #ikemen sengoku masamune #ikemen sengoku mitsunari #cyberpunk au #ikesen cyberpunk au

[delaneytveit]

Back at it again bc I have no chill

I said there would be a part 2 and I always keep my promises bc that’s literally my only redeeming quality but its fine. so here is my life’s work!

part 1/ part 2  

It's been a few Earth weeks since Lance was first gifted his own shooting range by the incredible Coran. Thanks to having his own training facility, lance can go in a practice when ever he wants and doesn’t have to worry about running into the others. However, he still can’ sleep at night, his body is too use to the adrenaline rush of training at 3 am. 

So instead of laying in bed staring at the ceiling for hours on end, Lance goes to the Castle’s library. Coran has been teaching Lance some Altean, so he can semi read it now, but he keeps that knowledge under lock and key. Its not like it would really help the team anyways. 

What will help the team, however, is what he chooses to read, he picks up some medical books, and thus starts his modified medical training. Coran helps out as well, teaching him how to use the pods and about the minor procedures that would be helpful in the field and in the infirmary. 

Coran knows better than to ask Lance why he wants to learn such things. He’s heard the offhanded jokes the boy makes about being useless, and though he wants to do everything in his power to convince the blue paladin that even if he didn’t know these things, that he is far from useless, he doesn’t. He decides instead to help him. 

In all honesty, the Altean was disappointed more than anything. Disappointed in the way the rest of the team, save for number two, seemed to do naught but call out Lance’s weakness in training and mistakes in missions. It wasn’t fair to the poor boy who was working so hard to be enough for a team that disregarded the effort. He couldn’t really fault them though, they didn’t know that the bags under his eyes were from the long nights spent studying medicine in a completely different language. They didn’t know the stiffness in his muscles were from the hours upon hours of training he did in the range. But he was tired of it. 

One day, after a particularly hard training session, and a much too harsh lecture by Allura and Shiro, Lance had left the raining deck and went straight to the shooting range. The words Allura had spoke pounded in his head the whole trip there.

 “If you would only just focus instead of thinking everything is a joke, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” 

“I don’t understand why you can’t just get this level, its not that hard, Keith passed it on the first try.” 

“Maybe if you put in the extra practice you would be able to make the shots you need.” 

Extra practice. Extra practice? Because the 8 hours he put in yesterday and the 7 hours the day before weren't enough, right? He marched straight to the range. 

Coran waited until Lance had left the deck before approaching the group. “That wasn’t fair to say, Princess. He's been working very hard.” 

it was number four that scoffed at that, which made Coran frown. “Walk with me, all of you.” 

He led them down the hallways, he very path he led Lance, the boy who had become a son to him, that first night he had gifted the range to him. He ignored the questions of where they were going, and instead led them to a door that opened to a room he frequented quite often. The observation room of the range. 

They had arrived just in time to watch Lance, now dressed in a black short sleeve shirt and tactical pants emerge from the dressing room. They watched as he walked into the weapons locker directly across from them and retrieve two different cases. 

“Azure, play Fuck the police.” He said aloud, placing the cases on the counter facing the targets. 

“Playing Fuck tha Police by NWA.” a female automated voice spoke, and the sound of the music filled the room. 

 Pidge chuckled at that. “He would.” 

As the song played, Lance loaded his first firearm, a version that looked a lot like a handgun from Earth, and aimed at the first target. 

The group watched in awe as Lance hit target after target. Not missing a shot. When he was satisfied, he switched to a bigger blaster, and did the same process. They watched as he switched from fixed targets to moving targets. The little droid bots moving around the back of the range, and he made every shot. To say that they were impressed was an understatement. 

“He’s amazing.” Shiro stated, never moving his eyes from the boy he had just spent an entire training session scolding. 

“He is. He’s a marksman, he needs distance.” Coran said simply, pride in his voice. 

But he wasn’t done. Lance returned the cases to the locker and grabbed his Bayard. He locked the locker and made his way to the ladder next to it. He climbed up and settled himself into the spot, activating his Bayard into a sniper rifle. He laid down and leveled his rifle, before making the command to release the moving targets. 

“The range is more that triple the size of the training deck,”Coran states, earning a few astonished looks from the paladins and the Princess alike. 

10 bots were released, 10 shots were taken,not a single bot remained. 

They watched him for a bit more before Hunk’s stomach decided to growl. Shiro proposed a lunch break and the rest of the group agreed. They began to make their way out of the observation room, only to realize that Keith hadn’t moved from where he stood. 

“Keith, c’mon, we’re hungry.” Pidge whined. 

He didn’t respond, Keeping his eyes on Lance as the sniper continued to make shot after shot on the small flying droids that were on the other side of the giant room. He was so engrossed in the display that he almost didn’t feel Shiro place a hand on his shoulder. 

“Keith, what’s up?”

“...Is anyone else coming to the realization that this guy could have killed all of us at any time and we wouldn’t see it coming?” He joked, in all honesty he was more impressed than anything. 

Shiro chuckled at that, “He is a pretty amazing shot. Which reminds me, I think we all owe Lance an apology for our comments, its clear he puts in a lot of time into his training.” 

There were nods all around as the group finally decided to exit the observation room and go get some lunch. Hunk volunteering to bring Lance a plate. 

They all promised to have a meeting with Lance once he was done, sit down and apologize, it needed to be done, and they were ready to make up for their unfair treatment towards him. 

He may not forgive them at first, or ever really, but they hoped that by changing their ways, he would feel more appreciated as part of the team. 

He is their sharpshooter after all.

#okay so this one got a bit away from me #I actually really love this head canon though #langst kind of #does this count as langst? #maybe? #I love lance #if you can't tell #my boi deserves all the validation #also yes I made a reference to the Alexa meme #sue me I guess but I don't regret it #lance serrano #Voltron lives in my mind rent free #voltron lance #I love two blue bois and lance is one of them

[a-simple-imagine]

Welcome to Westworld

Synopsis: Y/N and Natasha visit Westworld where they meet a particular blonde.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader,  elements of Dolores x fem!reader

Words: 4.2k+

A/N - This turned out a little longer than expected and totally self-indulgent. I guess it is a crossover.

"Can you believe we're  actually here?" Excitement oozed from every word that left your lips as you step off the train. It was nothing more than a train station but you couldn't help but admire it. It was almost too perfect, the pristine white and black of every surface; it was elegant. Even the people who occupied the platform were dressed in white.

"Not really," Natasha groaned, pushing you gently forward. "All I got from Tony for my birthday was a card."

"Yeah... well... I'm his favourite."

It was definitely meant as a brag after all this place cost thousands of dollars. A young woman calls out your name as she approaches. She was a traditional kind of pretty, piercing blue eyes with not a blonde hair out of place. Not a blemish on her ivory skin. "Welcome to Westworld."

Natasha was already being lead away by one of the men in white as you follow your guide.

"Given it's your first visit, I have a few questions for you."  She draws your attention back. The woman proceeds to inquire about your medical history; basic questions about previous conditions and your mental health. She takes you up the escalators, and at the top is a giant screen advertising the park. You couldn't wait to get inside.

"So how does this all work?" You wonder, "Is there like an orientation... or tutorial, maybe?"

The other woman smiles ever so softly, it was a gorgeous smile. "No orientation, half the fun is figuring out how it all works. You'll start in the town at the centre of the park; it's relatively safe. Then the further you go out the more intense the experience becomes. how far you go is up to you."

You nod along as she speaks; wondering if Natasha is going through the same line of questioning. "Makes sense."

The woman whose name you have yet to be told leads you into what you assume is a dressing room. Different selections of clothes lined the walls. With glass display cases in the centre. "This will be the first choice you make; everything in here is bespoke and exactly your size so please take your time."

You drift over to a display of dresses. They ranged from simple picnic dresses to eccentric ball gowns. Your fingers dance over the material of each dress before selecting a blue one. It had a high collar to frame the face paired with a flattering "V" cut. long leg-o-mutton sleeves and full skirt with pockets. It was adorned with a delicate red rose pattern. "Found something you like?"

You almost forgot she was here. You shake your head, placing the dress back. Your eyes fall to a display case of pistols that stood centre. "Are those real?" You ask as you walk over.

"Real enough," She responds; the guns were in perfect 3 x 3 lines.

"I thought you couldn't get hurt here," you comment as you look over the following case which held a few shotguns.

"Only the right amount." You look to her, brows furrowed a little before focusing on the suits. You didn't have anything against the dresses but they weren't practical for what you had in mind. A suit on the other hand; you'd look like a traditional cowboy.  You select a black jacket before turning to your little companion.

"Uh... should I get changed in another room or?"

"I can help you or I can step out of you like," you chucked a little until you realised she was serious. The blonde takes a few steps closer, you swallow hard at how close she is. She smells good; sweet. "Whatever, you want."

You're stunned for a moment. "I... can dress myself- thank you though, really."

she smiled tightly before wandering away. "I'll be outside if you need anything."

You opted for a long black jacket with matching slacks that were held up by suspenders. A striped white shirt and a little red scarf to complete the look. You had a gun holster strapped to your hip with a small silver pistol lodged in it. You'd gotten changed a couple of times before finally settling on this look and went to find your guide. "How do I look?"

"Time for the final touch," she leads you to a corridor with hats hug up on the wall. In different colours and sizes. You select a white hat to help break up the black a little; it was more tan than white. An Ivory hat. And thus concluded your introduction to the world, she left you to walk down a long corridor to a brown door. You twisted the nob and walked through to an ensemble of men and women. It was old fashioned, really looked the part. You find Natasha sat at the bar, nursing a whiskey.

"Damn, cowboy," you comment playfully, "Is this seat taken?"

Natasha turns to you, eyes drifting over your outfit as you take in hers. She wore dark brown trousers with a lighter brown vest no shirt underneath which showed off her arms. A brown hat on her head. "I'm surprised you didn't come out in one of those dresses, you're not gonna be too hot in that?"

"I almost did," You shrug a little, glancing around at the men in costumes. "I don't reckon so but I can always take off the jacket."

The bartender poured you a drink you never asked for which you took with a smile, heading over to get a look out the window. There was nothing but darknesses you twisted on your heel to glance back at her. "I wonder what it's like...

The once cramped compartment felt so much freer as light spilled into the cabin. You turn quickly to get the first glimpse of Westworld. The large mountains, canyons, the blue sky. It was all... surreal. This place must be absolutely huge.

Pulling up to the station; you're not even sure how you got on the train. Yes you walked through the door but how did a static door lead to a moving train? You get down off the train almost too scared to step into the unknown. Natasha trailed behind you as you walk into the small town of Sweetwater. It didn't seem all that big but it was busy. Too many things were hitting you at once you weren't sure what part to take in.

"Slow down, dude," you almost stumble into two girls as she calls out to you but you manage to dodge, with each step you feel your confidence grow.

"Come on Natasha," she's a fair few paces behind. "What should we do first- Hurry up,"

You wait for her to catch up before continuing. Glancing at each building as if trying to find something to break the immersive experience but everything seemed like it fit into this world perfectly. You couldn't even tell who were guests and who were the hosts, everything just worked. "What do you wanna do?"

"I don't know, it's your present." A large white building catches your eye. MARIPOSA was written in large black letters across the top of the building, above some decking. Saloon and hotel were written slightly smaller. "I think we should-"

Her voice drifts as you wander over to a poster that was pinned to a post, fluttering gently in the breeze. You flatten it out and a giant smile spreads over your lips as the words WANTED becoming clear as day

"You sure you can handle that?" The voice of reason has returned. Natasha was stood behind you.

"I'm a tough girl," you argue, "I could do it."

"Maybe start smaller, yeah? Stay in town get the lay of the land-"

You're not in the mood for Natasha's sensibility. Maybe you weren't ready to go hunting for outlaws but you could if you wanted to and surely you could find someone around here willing to help out. It's almost second nature to drown out her talking when you don't wanna listen as your attention becomes drawn somewhere else once again. You catch sight of a woman with a tan and black horse. Her light blue dress stood out against the otherwise drab colour scheme. She had beautiful golden hair that absorbed the sun. You don't know what it is but you can't help but watch her for a moment as she tries to shove a bag into the satchel on her horse; a can spilling out and onto the floor. Without a second thought, you're walking towards her, scooping up the can.

"Excuse me miss, I think you dropped this." Her delicate features come into view and you have to take a step back to appreciate. She was beautiful; overly so. Some would even say perfect. Her lips curled up into a gracious smile that brings joy to your face.

"Stop running off on me," Natasha scolds as she walks up behind, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Who's this?"

It takes you a moment to even comprehend that Natasha is talking. "Uhhh... I don't know."

"I'm Dolores," the otherwise annoying southern drawl is charming to the ear. "Thank you for the can,"

"You're Welcome," you tilt your cowboy hat a little, introducing yourself and Natasha. "So are you from around here, Dolores?"

"I am," she nods, smiling brightly. "I live just down the road but I don't think I've ever seen you two before. Suppose you're some of those newcomers, we get a lot of those."

You glance to Natasha who just shrugs. If she lived here that meant she was a host even though she definitely didn't seem like one. And you technically were newcomers just not in the way she's probably thinking. "That we are ma'am. I hate to be a bother but we were wondering if you might now what there is to do for fun around here?"

"It's no bother," she deliberates for a moment, putting the can away on her horse. "I guess it would depend on what you're looking for."

"I guess it would," you chuckle. Half the fun is figuring it out but you had no clue where to start. "Uh... what do you do for fun?"

She looks to you for a moment, paused in thought. "I go to my favourite spot by the river and paint."

"That sounds nice," not what you were expecting her to say but sure. You look to Natasha wondering what she wants to do.

"I think we should secure a place to sleep and eat first, maybe get a drink too."

"Alright," You sigh, logic beats fun here. Secure food and shelter was a very Natasha thing to say. "Would you mind taking us out tomorrow? We could go down to the river- I promise we won't get in the way?"

"I would be delighted." You can't help but feel a little delight at her words. "I'll meet you two back here tomorrow morning then."

"Perfect."

"Do you have horses?" The blonde asks, climbing up and onto hers.

"I'm afraid not we came on the train, know where we can get one?"

"I can bring some if you like?" She offered, her hand patting her horse a couple of times. "Or there is a stable on the edge of town, they should have a few if you got the money."

"We'll buy a few, thanks." May as well get some for the duration of your stay.

"I guess I'll see you two tomorrow then,"

"Bye Dolores," you wave as she rides off. Instantly turning to Natasha with the giddiness of a small child.

"I can't believe we came all the way here and you just wanna sit on the side of a river with some random girl."

"I wanted to go bounty hunting but you said no," you huff. "Besides, it's just one day. I'm pacing myself so where to next?"

"I need a drink but maybe we should get a couple horses first?"

"Okay... let's find the stables,"

It takes a while to find the stables. In the end Natasha had to ask a local who pointed you in the right direction. The stables were a big reddish-brown barn with a paddock to the left. One door was left open so you just wandered on in. It was considerably darker inside, dirty too. Despite the smell, there didn't actually seem to be a horse in sight.

"Howdy, folks. You looking to sell or buy?" An older gentleman startles you from the right. He had a white mustache but lacked hair on top of his head.

"Buy? How much is a horse?"

"Depends on the horse missy." You weren't sure how you felt about being called missy but you let it slide. "I've only got one left, ain't too many selling these days but he's a real beaut."

"Can we afford this?" Natasha asks quietly. The thing with theme parks was that despite the expensive entry fee, nothing seemed to come for free. You could steal a horse but that seemed risky so buying one was the next option.

"I don't know but Tony said to go nuts. I'm taking that as buy the horse."

In the very back stood just that; a horse. Black as the night with patches of white across his back, a crescent of white adorned the top of his head. "He's a big fella but gentle as can be," he reaches over to run his hand across the horse's nose. "I should be getting more in soon but this is the best I got for now. I'll even throw in everything you need to look after him, saddle and all."

"We'll take him," you declare quickly before Natasha can have a chance to say no.

"Great, let me just grab his papers."

You smile to Natasha. "Go pay the man,"

With a roll of her eyes, she wonders after the stable keeper. Staying with the horse, you walk closer; reaching out slowly. The animal was soft to the touch and made your smile brighten. "I think I'll call you moonshine."

Natasha returns a moment later with papers in hand. "He's ours."

"Great... do you know how to ride a horse?" You ask Natasha. The stable guy opens the door to let the horse trot out so he can attach the saddle. You watch him carefully to make sure you remember the process just in case.

"Do you?" You didn't so you shake your head. You'd never thought the skill would come in handy.

"Guess it's time to learn."

"You're all set," The man announces, slapping his hands together.

"Thank you," you take the horse's reigns and begin walking back towards the door. Thankfully the horse follows. "Where to next?"

"Food?" Natasha suggests. "Find a place to sleep.

"Let's hitch the horse and grab some food, I think I saw a restaurant back in town."

"Hitch the horse- listen to you cowboy."

After dinner, you retire to the Sweetwater inn. It was incredibly cheap but money was different back then so it makes sense. The next morning, Natasha is up at the crack of dawn, waking you up at around ten. You have breakfast before finding Dolores at the wayside.

"Morning, you two."

"Good morning, Dolores." You answer with a yawn.

"I see you got yourself a horse,"

"His name is Moonshine," you answer. "They only had one though."

"That's alright. One of you can ride with me."

"I'll ride with you," You weren't giving up the chance to get closer to her. Natasha's brows furrow at your eagerness. "I don't trust Natasha on a horse."

You climb up behind Dolores and it's a little daunting being up so high up. It's instinctive to put your arms around her to make yourself feel safer. Heat rushing to your cheeks as you realise you've just grabbed a woman you hardly know.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" you pull away.

"It's alright, have you ever ridden a horse before?" Dolores quarries.

Your head shakes. "No."

Reaching behind her, she searches for your hands. You take hold of hers and she places them around her. "We'll be okay just hold tight."

Dolores feels warm in your embrace and she smells like fresh linen. It's weird how... normal she felt. You kind of expected her to feel hard and cold but she felt like any other human being. It's like when you put your arms around Natasha who gets annoyed when you don't let go. "I'll go slow at first so you can get used to it."

You nod a little even though she can't see and with a flick of her wrist, the horse starts moving. Your grip tightens around her at the motion but you relax with a heavy sigh. It takes a second but you work up the courage to look at Natasha who seems at home aboard Moonshine; no surprise there.

"You doing okay back there?"

"Mhmm,"

The horse gets faster but it's not as bad this time; you've grown accustomed to the motion. You don't know how long you're up there for but you approach the river with a gentle curiosity. Natasha helps you down form the horse, which doesn't seem as big from the ground. Looking out over the river, it was a beautiful spot of lush green. Natasha walks up beside you as Dolores collects her things from her horse. "She felt real," you hum quietly, not bothering to look at her. "Like I don't know how to explain it... she doesn't feel like a machine."

"Doesn't mean she isn't one," Natasha pats you firmly on the back. "Remember that,"

You watch her walk to the river edge before glancing at Dolores who had set up her axel.

"Whose horses are those?" You ask out loud, pointing to a spot where three horses roamed. They seemed to be enjoying the grass.

"Oh they're wild," Dolores replies. "Do you want to get closer?"

With Dolores leading the way, you approach the three beasts. One was chestnut brown, the other tan and finally the third was a greyish white. The white horse trots closer to the two of you as Dolores offers out her hand.

"Here," she hands you a slice of apple. "Put your hand out real flat."

Doing as instructed, the horse seems cautious but eventually takes the free food leaving a little slobber in its wake.

"Hey Nat, we could have just gotten a couple of these instead of buying one."

"I don't know about you but I don't think we could tame a wild one."

"They're really quite gentle," The host interrupts, stroking the neck of the horse. You're utterly amused by the whole situation. This place was, in terms of technology, so advanced, and yet life was simple. It was the little moments that were so enticing- although you still wanted to go chase criminals at some point.

The day is spent with Dolores. It's joyful and peaceful although you're not sure how much fun Natasha is having. As the sun began to set and Dolores insisted she had to get home, you go your separate ways and head back to Sweetwater with Natasha.

Tonight was Natasha's turn to pick and so you ended up in the Saloon. It was surprisingly full and lively. A man sat at the piano, playing tune after tune. There was a poker game taking place between a group of men. And you were pretty sure there were working girls wondering about offering their... services.

"How do you think they make them so realistic?" You think out loud as you stand at the bar. "Like Dolores was one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. And there's just no way you could tell she wasn't another human being without knowing beforehand."

"Will you shut up about Dolores," Natasha groaned. "There are plenty of other..."

Her voice trails off and you find a stranger stood just behind you. She was a pretty brunette and sporting a deep blue ruffled and laced corset dress. It looked good on her. A soft hand danced ever so lightly over the skin of your cheek. "You're new," she hums, bringing her fingertips to her lips. "Not much of a rind on you."

You swallow hard under her gaze as she smiles. "I can give you a discount. It's normally five dollars but I can do it for four."

You glance towards Natasha, it had become a habit since entering the park. You wanted to gauge her reaction; figure out what she deemed okay. "Go ahead," The redhead brings a shot glass to her lips, knocking it back. "I don't care if you fuck a robot,"

"She's not-" you cut yourself off, "thank you for the offer ma'am but I'm gonna have to decline. Maybe another time."

"You don't have to be so negative all the time." You growl as you lean down against the bar, signaling for the bartender to refill your glass. "Maybe actually pretend to enjoy this place."

"How am I being negative?"

"The point of this place is to have fun and experience the old west. Live without limits," you try to keep your voice down but not so much it's drowned out by everything else going on in here. "You don't have to keep telling me everything isn't real- I know that. I know the hosts aren't people but they're basically the same so just stop it. Maybe I should have come alone."

You down a shot of whiskey which burns as it drifts down your throat before finding a seat at an empty table. "Look I'm sorry," Natasha takes up the seat opposite you. "I'll try to take this more seriously okay? I don't mean to ruin your experience."

"Would you really not be mad if I fucked that girl?"

"I mean... it's your money to waste. Why? Are you curious."

"Maybe just a little," you chuckle. It was a genuine curiosity if you were being honest. Surely they can't feel real in those moments. "I won't though."

Natasha is relatively happy as you get a couple drinks in her, so the night practically flies by. You even try your hand at a little poker which you're bad at but Natasha seems to be cleaning up.

Day 3 of your Westworld adventure and you're not quite sure what to do. Where to go? Or who to talk to? You stood staring at the wanted poster from the day you walked in. Natasha was in the general store picking up some supplies. Maybe today was the day to do something a little more... exciting. Then you spot her again; Dolores. She brings a smile to your lips as you watch her but it's quick to fade as three men approach her. You can't hear them but you also can't just assume they have bad intentions so you keep an eye on the interaction. Mainly on Dolores in the middle and when she tries to push past and they stop her, you spring into action.

"Fellas, how about you leave my friend here alone."

They all turn to you and you take a step back. Are they hosts or guests? You couldn't tell. "Or what?" A nasally voice assaults your ears. The owner was a short man with thick brown hair. "We can do whatever we want so fuck off."

"I said, leave her alone." You stand your ground, hand lingering on the gun you hadn't had the honour of using just yet. "Now."

The biggest of the lot was a burly man with a thick beard. He definitely seemed like he would win if this ended in a fistfight. He towers over you, grabbing you by the arm but before you can react, Natasha is between you. Pressing the man's arm up against his back. "You so much as look at my girlfriend again and I will break your arm, you understand? Now the lady asked you nicely to leave so I'd listen if I were you."

Natasha releases him and he fixes himself. A triumphant smirk appears on your lips. You may have wanted to test out your gun but maybe Natasha jumping in had been for the best. "Come on boys. It's not worth it."

"Thank you," Dolores looks relieved to see you and it fills you with an undeniable warmth. There was just something about her that you absolutely adored; and it wasn't just the pretty face.

"It was no big deal," You respond casually. "Some guys can be such assholes."

"Still, I'm grateful." You're proud of yourself even if Natasha did the heavy lifting. "I'd love to have you over for dinner tonight to say thank you. I'm sure my daddy would love to have you join us."

"We would love to," Natasha answers for you; you a little surprised actually. This was the first time Natasha seemed interested in Dolores, you kinda thought she hated her. "As long as it's no trouble."

"None at all." Dolores insisted, climbing onto her horse. "Just grab your horse and we can go now. I'll show you the rest of the ranch too."

You walk alongside Natasha to collect moonshine from outside the general store. "I can't believe you nearly got into a fight over a fucking robot."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dolores abernathy #Dolores abernathy x reader #evan rachel wood #westworld