#and he was the best character on the show | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andypantsx3 · 3 hours

Text

𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑣

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike.All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother,steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, knotting, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 7.6k | chapter 4 of 4

Then

“Shouto duty,” was the first thing Touya grumbled as he emerged from his house.

A little shadow with red and white hair peered out from behind him, big eyes staring up at you. Shouto was dressed in a periwinkle t-shirt and khaki shorts in the late spring heat, and he was nearly vibrating with excitement. You reached out reflexively to pat that fluff of hair, and Shouto seemed to lean into your touch like a cat, probably starved of affection from his fussy older brother.

“My lucky day,” you said, grinning at the way it made Touya roll his eyes.

Shouto nearly launched himself off the steps, looking quietly thrilled to be tagging along. He shoved himself in between you and Touya as you walked, as if unable to bear Touya’s proximity to you, making Touya bark out an annoyed, “Oi, watch it.”

Shouto ignored him, turning to you. “Y/N, I have something to tell you.”

You looked down at him curiously. “What?”

“I lost a tooth,” he said, staring up at you seriously. You laughed, knowing most kids would have smiled to show off their tooth gap, but Shouto had always been a little bit more withdrawn, though he was fairly open around you.

“When?” you asked, ignoring Touya’s scoff. “Did the tooth fairy come?”

Shouto nodded. “Last night. I am adding the money to my inheritance for you.”

That made you laugh again, and you bumped his shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Shouto. I think you should buy yourself something with it though. Especially in this weather—it’s good popsicle weather.”

Shouto looked like he was seriously considering this. “Do you like popsicles?”

You nodded. “Definitely.”

He seemed to pocket that information, and you hid a fond smile. That kid was too sweet for his own good, when it came to you. You wondered when his little case of older-brother’s-friend worship would end. You hoped not for another few years, at least.

“Fucking finally,” Touya said when he caught sight of Rumi and Keigo at the end of his neighborhood, his booted steps growing faster, as if eager to get away from the two of you.

You didn’t mind—Shouto was easy company.

“Oi!” Keigo called out to you, waving a skinny arm. You accompanied Shouto over, watching with a little bit of self-satisfaction when Shouto ducked a hair ruffle from Rumi, the look on his face almost reminiscent of Touya.

You were still his favorite, it seemed.

The usual round of arguments commenced about what to play now that all of you were united, Touya snottily vetoing everyone’s suggestions—except, notably, Keigo’s. Eventually you settled on hide and seek, something Shouto could participate in too, since it didn’t involve convoluted rules, and established a set distance you could go.

Finally Shouto was dubbed the first seeker, and the rest of you took off into the surrounding neighborhood.

You immediately beelined for the sprawling oak at the edge of the neighborhood, its thick, leafy branches the perfect place to conceal yourself. Touya, Keigo, and Rumi had long caught on to the fact that you were almost always to be found up a tree, but Shouto hadn’t played this game with you before.

Thirty seconds and one bark-scraped palm later had you settled in your hiding place, just as you caught Shouto’s shout from afar, “Ready or not, here I come!”

You quieted your breath, listening for the sound of his approach. This late in spring, the cicadas were already roaring. The leaves rustled around you in the breeze and you could hear some other band of kids shrieking and laughing, far in the distance.

It was nearing ten minutes on by the time you heard the thump of Shouto’s sneakers approaching, and you could just make out that distinct mop of bright hair through the branches. He poked around behind bushes, peering at eye level, but didn’t seem to think to look up for you. You watched him hunt through the surrounding area, then dash off when you heard a distinctly Keigo squawk not too far away.

You were nearly asleep on your tree branch when you heard his return, and you sat up quietly to watch him again. You were impressed that he seemed to know you were somewhere nearby.

As you watched him rifle around, you wondered if you should drop a hint, just because he’d been so sweet to you earlier. He’d been so adorable insisting he’d save you his tooth money.

You deliberately rustled a branch, leaning on it so it made a loud creak.

Immediately, Shouto’s head snapped up. Two mismatched eyes narrowed in on you, and his face seemed to brighten when he saw you. A small smile quirked the corner of his mouth.

“Caught you,” he called up to you.

You stuck a leg down tauntingly. “Not yet.”

Something passed over Shouto’s face, and his gaze seemed to sharpen. “I have, too.” You could almost hear a foot stamp in his voice.

You grinned. “Not until I get down.”

A determined look settled across Shouto’s features, and he prowled over to the tree. You watched him jump for a lower branch, catching it securely before hefting himself up. His arms were skinny, but his movements were sure, intent. In no time at all you were helping lever him onto your own branch, pulling him up alongside you.

“I caught you,” Shouto repeated, settling a proprietary hand on your arm. His hand was warm, and his fingers caught your wrist tightly.

You smiled. “I let you catch me by making all that noise, you mean.”

A tiny frown pulled at Shouto’s mouth. “I knew you were around here,” he said, something almost like a pout in his voice.

You laughed. “I did notice you came back. Those are some good tracking skills—although don’t forget to look up. I’m usually always up a tree, when it comes to hide and seek, and Touya and the others I think have caught on too. They’re probably up their own trees somewhere.”

“I do not care about finding them,” Shouto said. His straightforward tone startled a laugh out of you.

You settled back against the branch, Shouto still gripping your arm firmly. “Should we let them wait, then?” you asked, grinning. “I bet Rumi will come out on her own pretty soon, she’s so impatient.”

Shouto nodded. “I will stay here with you.”

The sincerity of the statement warmed you, the way Shouto’s serious little proclamations always did. He was too sweet for this earth. “Then shall we discuss which popsicle you’re going to get later? I have some recommendations.”

Shouto nodded seriously, and you launched into your nonsense, pleased. The leaves rustled around you, the breeze cool and pleasant against your skin. It felt like time stretched out around you, thick like taffy, slow and lazy and easy in the late spring breeze.

You thought absently that wished you could have a million more moments, Shouto the easiest company beside you, just like this.

Now

The morning of the run dawned warm and dry, sunny with a light breeze.

It was perfect hiking weather, and that was the only thing that kept you in good spirits. You tried not to think about Shouto—about how he was going after someone today, how you’d possibly seen him for the last time before he did. He’d said he’d find your tree, but there was really no guarantee his omega was going to run in the same direction as you.

You ate breakfast on the couch with your mother, listening to her excitedly chatter about your prospects today. You hammed it up a little bit, pretending you had any interest in being chased by an alpha, so that you could milk it later and avoid promises to commit to next year’s run. You hoped it would be enough of a deterrent for her—every year you grew older without a mate, she seemed more desperate to find you one.

You repacked your bags, readying yourself to board your train back to the city tomorrow, feeling mournful. Then you spent the rest of the morning finishing up the small things your mother had let go while you were gone, YouTubing your way through a door knob repair, and some weather stripping replacements. You lifted her air-conditioning into the window, swearing and sweating the whole time and wishing you had even a fraction of Shouto’s easy alpha strength.

After everything was finished, you packed up for the run, placing all your snacks and the sandwich Shouto had helped assemble into a small backpack, stuffing in a water and a book after. Then you scrounged around in your clean laundry for some hiking clothes, settling on leggings and a tee-shirt, no reason to try to impress anyone.

It was late morning by the time you ducked out of your house and started the trek to the preserve on the edge of town. Throngs of people were already gathered when you got there, alphas and omegas alike crowding the entrance. An overwhelming mixture of scents washed over you, the sweetness and florals of the omegas, the tang and spice of the alphas, even the small muted underwash of a few betas.

The overstimulation was nostalgic, and brought to mind your first few runs—the anticipatory hope you felt, the determination not to get caught for some one-time mating with an alpha who wouldn’t prove to be your life mate. It had been years, and you knew the outcome already this time, but some small thrill of anticipation thrummed in your veins regardless.

You kept to the edge of the crowd, sprawling out on the grass until the organizers called for the omegas and running betas to come forward to their starting mark. The alphas and remaining betas would be called to the mark a half hour later, to follow their intended targets into the preserve.

Then the whistle was being blown, and the crowd of omegas around you surged into the forest.

The first hundred meters of the preserve were a tangle of wild trees and overgrowth—omegas typically stayed on the trails until the forest opened up, several paths intersecting and leading away into hills and towards a pond, with the last one stretching towards the coast. This was your usual route and you followed it until the trees thinned out, then stepped off the path to tromp through the woods in the direction of the coastline.

You kept a brisk pace, wanting to get as far in as you could before the alphas were let in. Eventually the spruces and firs gave way to mostly coastal scrub pines amid tall grass, and you could smell the ocean through the trees, hear the crash of the waves against the rocky outcroppings.

You stepped out of the woods along a small coastal path that stretched for miles, and followed it a few minutes more until it flattened out. There was a small meadow laid into the coastline, spanning several square meters of pale seagrass and flowering bushes, shaded by an enormous willow tree—your target.

The meadow had a beautiful view of the shining blue waves through the barren scrub trees, but more importantly it was out of the way, little known to people who did not frequent the coastline trails. The willow was the perfect cover, its trailing fingers and dense greenery more than enough to hide one disinterested beta.

You ducked through the leaves, latching onto one of the lower branches and heaving yourself up. It had been years since you’d climbed anything—the city not exactly chalk-full of great climbing trees—but you were pleased to find it just as satisfying. You scrambled up into the canopy, testing your weight against your designated branch, finding it still held you easily.

Perfect.

You immediately rewarded yourself with a granola bar, settling onto your branch and chewing contentedly, pleased with the temperature. The sun was hot, but in the shade of the leaves and the salty breeze drifting in off the sea, it was perfectly comfortable.

You’d just gotten out your book to read, flipping to the spot you’d last left off at, when the chirp of nearby birds stopped. The meadow seemed to grow quiet around you.

You sat up, alert, at the soft tread of a bootfall close by. Your breath froze in your lungs. An omega, looking for a place to hide? Or some alpha?

Except then a long-fingered hand parted the hanging tendrils of the willow, and a familiar head of scarlet and white hair was ducking inside the canopy.

Embarrassingly, your heart swelled. Shouto had made time to stop in before finding his omega.

“Shouto!” you shouted down, pleased.

Shouto’s face tipped up to you, a tiny smile on his mouth. He looked especially good today, you thought, a navy tee shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, baring the flesh of his biceps, a flush on his cheeks from the warm spring sun. He looked a little taken apart, windswept like he’d run here, and you furiously stamped down on the flash of heat in your tummy.

Nope. No.

“Y/N,” Shouto intoned quietly, his eyes glittering up at you. “Caught you.”

You were momentarily taken aback by the sound of something unfamiliar in his tone, some strange intensity in his voice and expression. It sounded almost like it meant something to find you here, something more than a momentary pitstop on his way to his omega—but of course that was ridiculous.

You waved down at him, smiling and sticking a leg down tauntingly like when you were kids. “Not yet.”

Shouto’s eyes narrowed, a flash of something predatory tinging his handsome features.

In the blink of an eye, he crossed to the tree, dense muscle coiling and pulling beneath his tee shirt as he pulled himself up. This time he needed none of your help, moving with a panther-like grace. He pulled himself onto the branch immediately below yours, close enough that it put him at eye level with the bottom of your chin.

Then he reached out and snared your ankle in one large, warm hand, a smug sort of glint in his eye. The follow up caught you went unspoken.

Another laugh bubbled up out of you. “Alright alright, this time you got me,” you agreed, flexing your ankle in his hold.

Shouto’s mouth turned up, clearly pleased, but he did not let go. A thumb stroked softly along the hollow beneath your ankle bone. A surprised shiver caught you, sliding up your spine.

“You, um, got here so quick,” you said, trying to think past the sudden fuzz of static in your brain. You hoped your voice sounded impressed and not embarrassingly breathy. “Did you at least note which way your life mate went?”

Shouto’s head tilted, his bangs falling into his eyes as his thumb petted across your skin again. “I did.”

You nodded approvingly, tensing against another shudder. “Did they come out this way? You’re probably the first alpha to make it out here but you won’t want to waste too much time.”

Shouto’s mouth twitched, those heterochromatic eyes trailing down your face. “No time spent with you is a waste.”

That made your face warm. You tried to prod him with your foot, but Shouto’s grip was firm. “You’re going to want to save the charm for your life mate, mister.”

“I am,” he said simply, tone sincere.

You felt your brow furrow—now what was that supposed to mean?—when suddenly Shouto leaned forward, abandoning his grip on your ankle. His hands found the branch at either side of your hip, trapping you inside his reach. You stared down at him, stunned with his sudden proximity.

You felt suddenly a little caged in, your breath pulling up short. What was he—?

“Will you come down to me?” Shouto asked, eyes intent on yours.

The ask felt significant, though you had no idea how. And he was so close, so focused on you.

But you had no clue exactly what he would need you to come down for. Maybe he wanted to split lunch or something? You had your sandwich in your bag, and it would be easier on the ground, you supposed.

Although Shouto probably shouldn’t go running around on too full a stomach, especially if he—with his omega, after—if they…

You found you couldn’t think it, your mind shying away like you’d prodded a nerve.

Really, Shouto should be going soon, before any ranging alphas made it this far out and sniped his life mate before he got to them.

With that thought, however, some selfish thing recoiled inside of you. You desperately craved just a few more minutes with him—this achingly familiar boy, this mind-numbingly beautiful man—before he wasn’t really yours to think of anymore. These were the last few moments you’d get to spend with him before everything changed. It took less than a second to make up your mind.

“Yeah,” you said, smiling. “I’ll come down.”

You shifted, gathering your backpack and maneuvering off your branch carefully. Shouto gave you just enough space to get down, a hand finding your waist as you steadied yourself. He shadowed you down, close at your back to make sure you didn’t slip.

He was acting the consummate gentleman—but there was a strange tension about him, something about the way he moved and the intensity with which he was trailing you. There was something expectant about it, something almost impatient.

Maybe he needed you to hurry up so he could get going. That was probably it.

You turned to your backpack as soon as he guided you safely to the ground. You’d barely gotten it unzipped, however, when Shouto suddenly crowded into your space, startling you.

You stumbled a reflexive step back, breath whooshing out of you when your back connected with the trunk of the willow. Shouto followed, still watching you with that unnerving intensity.

His fingers dipped under your chin, softly turning your face up to his. His gaze was serious—more solemn than you had ever seen him. You went still in his grasp, heartbeat rabbiting in your chest.

What was with him today?

“Shouto,” you said slowly. “Are you… alright?”

Shouto leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours. His slow exhale ghosted over your mouth, thumb stroking across your jaw. It sent a swarm of shudders down your spine, and you suddenly weren’t breathing at all.

“I have dreamed of this moment a thousand times,” Shouto said, his tone reverent. It was almost a whisper.

His tone implied there was something incredibly significant about this moment, but you could not for the life of you think of what. Especially not with his face so close, clouding up your thoughts.

You felt your brow furrow against his, and you opened your mouth to ask him what on earth he could be talking about.

Except before you could, Shouto’s hands took either side of your face. And then he bent his head—and pressed his mouth to yours.

All higher thought immediately evacuated your brain, leaving only a sudden zing of panic and the horrible, wonderful excitement of Shouto’s mouth on yours, of Shouto’s strong body so close to yours. Rough bark scraped against your back as Shouto’s front slotted warm and firm against your chest, and the feeling of all that strength pressed so tightly to you made you dizzy.

“Sho–-? Whuh—?” you said, slightly muffled into his mouth.

But Shouto only took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, soft and wet and so unbelievably hot your brain short circuited. Every single nerve ending in your body lit up as you realized Todoroki Shouto had his tongue in your mouth, and that he was kissing you so thoroughly and meticulously it felt as though this was the last kiss he’d ever be allowed. You heard yourself let out a gasp that turned into an embarrassing moan as he pressed harder against you, pinning you between himself and the tree.

Your mind felt like it was melting, Shouto’s mouth doing terrible things to your thoughts’ coherence. Your hands went to his shoulders, and you found yourself opening up to him, every inch of your skin hot. Every flick of his tongue, every brush of his lips felt better than you could have ever imagined, and you were helpless to do anything but let him have you.

Your thoughts were a puddle when Shouto finally let your mouth free. All you could do was stare up at him, shocked.

“Y/N,” Shouto said, his eyes searching your face. “You came down for me.”

His handsome face wore an expression you hadn’t ever seen before as he regarded you, something almost—possessive? His hands had slid to your waist, his touch hot through the material of your shirt.

Your brain swam. Words, what were words? “I—? Uh, yes—?”

Shouto seemed to understand you weren’t getting his point. “‘If I’m not an alpha, and I have to hide somewhere, I’m going to find the best tree in the preserve and go up it and not come down until I find my life mate,’” he said.

It sounded like a quote, and it took you an embarrassingly long moment to realize it was something you had said, years and years and years ago, when you were both kids.

Was he saying—? But that was absurd. No, there was no way. You hadn’t—he wasn’t—

“But you’re Shouto,” you groped around your thoughts for logic and reasoning. “You’re Shouto.”

Shouto watched you patiently, a white eyebrow raising slightly.

“You can’t mean—?” you sputtered. “No. You’re Touya’s baby brother. I’m too old for you. The first time I held you, you were a baby.”

Shouto pressed impossibly closer to you, a long-fingered hand winding its way into yours. “I am not a child, Y/N. And you are not that much older than I.”

You struggled to think through the feeling of his body pressed to yours. You knew it. You knew he wasn’t a child. But all the same, you’d spent long enough telling yourself he’d been meant for someone else. Long enough convinced that you were too old for him.

Long enough that you were absolutely certain this had to be a mistake.

“You’re off limits,” you told him, trying to press him back. Shouto did not budge, however, as solid as stone under your hand.

“You are my life mate,” he said. He raised your joined hands to his mouth, kissing over your knuckles. An electric jolt went through you at the feeling of that mouth on you again, firm and warm. “I have known my whole life. I am off limits to all but you.”

A storm of emotion churned in your gut, everything from guilt to disbelief to pleasure to relief. To hear it said so plainly, after all this time—you are my life mate—by a man who was already so beloved to you. By a boy you’d loved as a friend, a man who you wanted to love as more.

But you couldn’t—he had to deserve better.

“I won’t take advantage of you,” you insisted.

A small smile pulled at Shouto’s mouth. “I am not a child. And I am an alpha besides. Your alpha.”

You fought down a furious flush.

“But Shouto there’s so many things–!” you insisted. Beyond being older than him, beyond being a staple in his life since he was young. You were quickly realizing so many of the promises he’d made when he was younger, he actually meant.

“Your inheritance—I never meant to accept that from you for real. And your family, they would not like that I—”

The rest of your words were muffled in Shouto’s mouth, as he bent his head and kissed you again. A flick of his tongue turned even that into a muffled squeak instead. Why was he so good at this?

“Much of my family understands what it means to pursue something singularly,” Shouto said against your lips. “What it means to give everything you have in service of pursuit.”

Your stomach flipped. The Todoroki single-mindedness that you had been convinced had skipped right over Shouto. Suddenly years of solemn watchfulness over you, years of following you like a shadow, years of sharing all his toys and his thoughts and promising to take care of you—it all made a terrible, perfect sort of sense.

Single-mindedness. But not as destruction, as Enji’s and Touya’s had been. As devotion—as thoughtfulness, something so uniquely Shouto you wanted to cry.

God how had you missed this?

You rallied yourself for one last defense.

“Shouto. At the very least you need to consider if you’re making a mistake. Alpha-beta couplings are nontraditional—maybe your senses are off here. Maybe because I’m a beta and I was around when your brain was still forming and you liked me then it feels like there’s something but—”

Shouto’s grip on you flexed, and suddenly his determined expression flickered, a crease forming between those perfect brows.

“Do you see me as a child still?” he asked.

You shook your head. Not since you’d seen him prowl across the Todoroki kitchen, miles of sleek muscle flexing, that perfect campfire scent fogging your brain, tall and gorgeous and unmistakably alpha. And especially not since you’d come to understand the expanse of his life—the home he’d made, the job he had, the goals he’d taken.

“Then do you… not want me?” he asked.

Your heart immediately sank, aching with the soft flicker of hurt that crept across his features.

Your hands had shot out to hold his face before you knew what you were doing.

“Shouto, of course I want you,” you found yourself saying. “Who wouldn’t want you? You are perfect. You are so kind and have always been so good. You are sweet and funny and so beautiful it hurts to look at. Of course I want you. But I don’t want to hurt you—”

“Then say yes,” Shouto insisted.

God you wanted to. You wanted to. You had been so jealous this whole week, you realized, of whoever his life mate was going to be.

The realization crashed into you like a wave, knocking you off balance. You wanted all of Shouto’s time, all of his attention, wanted to curl up in his apartment on that plush couch with him and all but bodily fuse to him, never to come apart again. You wanted to spend a million afternoons cooking in that kitchen, running lunches to him at the firehouse, kissing him, laughing with him, indulging in him—in how kind and sweet and good he’d always been.

Your face must have said it all, because Shouto was crowding back into you.

“I am going to be so good to you, Y/N,” he promised, his mouth drawing closer.

You shivered. Some part of you still felt like you needed to resist him, needed to make him see. But the other part of you, the largest part, wanted to melt in his embrace. Wanted to let him kiss you and kiss him back, wanted to thread your fingers in that fluff of hair and sink into the relief of his companionship.

Shouto hammered the final nail into your coffin with the unerring precision of a boy who’d known you for twenty years.

“Trust me to take good care of you,” he said, his voice dipping to a low whisper.

And that was it—the refrain from all those years ago, before you’d ever understood what he was promising you. Even if you were uncertain about everything else, you would always be certain about Shouto’s care. Shouto’s inherent goodness.

Surrendering, you let yourself fall.

“I do,” you told him. “I trust you. I—always will.”

Then you closed your eyes and let him kiss you.

You could feel Shouto’s soft smile against your mouth, feel a renewed intensity in the way he poured himself into you with his next kiss. You almost sagged against him in sheer relief—the relief of knowing, against all odds, that your life mate had found you even across the years that had threatened to separate you.

Shouto kissed you with a startling vigor, leaving you breathless against the willow when he moved down to your neck, pulling your tee shirt wide to suck several very insistent markings into the hollow of your throat.

You leaned into the rough bark as he mapped his way lower, and lower, only startling when he dropped to his knees before you, pressing his face into the crease of your hip.

Your heart shot into your mouth, a shock of heat licking up your spine. “Shouto!” you stammered.

Shouto only uttered your name into the fabric of your leggings, the material thin enough that you could feel the heat of his exhalation on your skin. One of his hands came up to take your calf, the other creeping up into the band of your leggings, carefully pulling it down.

You watched him as he did, stomach fluttering.

He gently helped you step out of your leggings and panties, leaving you bare and vulnerable to him. You would have been more embarrassed if it wasn’t for the way his eyelashes fluttered appreciatively, and the immediate way he ducked his head to press his mouth right to your core.

You muffled a moan into your palm, thunking your head against the tree trunk.

You could feel Shouto’s slow smile as he hefted your thigh over his shoulder, hands grasping your waist. “Mine,” you heard him utter, soft and low, before licking right over you, possessive and deliberate. It made every inch of your skin flush hot, every nerve ending come to life under his mouth.

You could still hardly believe what was happening, even as you muffled more sounds into your palm as Shouto worked you, with the attentive diligence he’d always done everything when it came to you. You could feel those mismatched eyes on you, cataloging your every reaction to what he did.

He learned all too quickly exactly what you liked, and you were a writhing mess within minutes. Shouto pinned you to the tree with an iron arm across your stomach as you arched and screamed, not letting up until you’d come against his mouth, chanting his name like an oath.

He looked very pleased with himself when you were done, his hair ruffled from your hand, face flushed.

He looked too good to be real.

“I want—Shouto, please—” you said, nearly incoherent but apparently utterly shameless now that he’d had you.

Shouto got to his feet to kiss you again and you flushed when you could taste yourself on his mouth. “Come home with me,” he murmured, tone low.

“You don’t want—?” you said.

Shouto shook his head. “Not here. I’ve imagined this a thousand times, how I wanted it to happen. I’ve thought about what you deserve. I’ve thought about how I will not want to separate, after, not even to take you back home. Come home with me first.”

Fire spread across your cheeks at the idea of Shouto imagining it with you, over and over again. The way he said home, like it was both of yours.

“Okay. Okay yes,” you said, breathless.

Shouto helped you back into your leggings and gathered up your abandoned pack, which you’d apparently dropped and forgotten entirely the moment he’d kissed you. He held your hand in his the whole way back through the woods, occasionally cocking his head or scenting the air, and then taking a long detour around some place, like he didn’t want to share your presence with whoever else was in the woods.

The walk was long, but so easy in Shouto’s company, even with this new dimension of your relationship settling itself between you two. It was frighteningly easy, in fact, after everything.

You talked about everything and nothing, reliving the entire week together, Shouto sharing that he’d hoped you’d see him as a man, had taken the time right up until the run to try to be sure. Ears flaming, you’d shared that you’d been gone for him the moment you’d seen him in the doorway of the kitchen. Shouto’s smug look immediately mopped up any of the reflexive embarrassment you felt sharing that.

By the time you made it to Shouto’s you’d also managed to shoot a text off to your mother, and an emergency extension of your time off to your workplace.

Shouto was on you as soon as the door shut behind you, catching your noise of surprise in his mouth.

Your arms came around him, and he walked you back to his couch, following you down onto it and laying himself out over you. The weight of him made you shiver again, the heaviness of all that muscle anchoring you down.

Shouto kissed you absolutely boneless into the cushions of his couch, hands wandering everywhere, skimming under your shirt, calluses catching on the fabric of your leggings. Everywhere he touched felt like it was on fire, your nerves singing with pleasure. Shouto seemed to be trying to take his time with you, but you could sense something underneath that, his usual layers of patience eroded.

Feeling brave, you let your hands wander to the buttons of his pants, working them open. Shouto’s breath left him in a hiss as you wrapped your hand around him, feeling him hard and hot and velvet smooth in your palm.

“Ah… fffuck, love,” he muttered into your neck. He chased it with the soft scrape of his teeth, groaning when it made your grip tighten on him reflexively.

His hips flexed, sliding him through your fingers, flush and full. Butterflies fluttered to life in your stomach, and a hot streak of arousal licked up your spine. Your own hips shifted, lifting up into him, and you realized with a sudden desperation that you wanted him inside you, didn’t want to wait another second.

“Shouto please, please, please,” you found yourself babbling, stroking firmly down the shaft of him.

Shouto’s eyes were dark when they found yours again. “Anything, I would give you anything,” he said, his voice tight.

“I want you inside of me, please,” you said, your face burning with the admission.

The sheer elation flashing across his handsome face quelled any more embarrassment. In what felt like barely a breath, Shouto had you bare to him once more, flinging your leggings and shirt somewhere towards his kitchen. He covered you again, fitting himself between your thighs with another appreciative groan before pressing in.

You were so wild with want that he slid home easily, despite his impressive size. His skin burned hot against yours, and he felt so perfectly right over you, inside of you, that you had to fight down something like a sob.

Shouto looked equally as overwhelmed, staring at your face rapturously. “I have loved you my whole life,” he said, his tone wondering. “You are finally mine.”

Your entire body went hot with his declaration. You had not realized until today that you loved him too. But now that you did, it felt like everything made sense, that all was finally right.

You managed to gasp out as much between Shouto’s thrusts, as his hips bucked into yours, slowly at first, and then faster, more sure. He kissed you everywhere—your face, your neck, your shoulders, layering in soft bites like he could not help himself.

“Say it,” he groaned, mouthing at the underside of your jaw. “Please say it.”

“I love you,” you said. A yelp escaped you when Shouto suddenly seized you around the waist, rolling you on top of him and holding you to him as he levered the two of you upright. The position in his lap only made him sink deeper inside of you, and you hissed with the feeling, your fingernails digging into his back.

“Ah, fuck—Shouto!” you cried.

Shouto’s hands on your waist guided you with an easy strength—your head spun with the reminder of his power, the reminder that you had an alpha—your alpha—inside of you.

“Going to take good care of you,” he panted into your hair, pausing to kiss the shell of your ear even as the snap of his hips undid you. “Going to take such good care of you.”

Your fingers flexed on him, and you could feel your toes curl. You did not know what to do with all of the emotion welling up inside you, the well of your pleasure almost overflowing. He ground up into you, making your eyes nearly roll back in your head, and you fought down a scream when the pad of his thumb pressed to your clit, heightening every sensation.

“Oh Shouto, please—” was all you could manage.

Shouto looked enraptured, drinking in every change in your expression. As you squirmed and writhed under his touch, you felt him start to swell inside of you.

Both apprehension and arousal swirled inside of you, a beta’s body a little less adapted to knotting than an omega’s. But the firm circle Shouto’s thumb was drawing on your clit, and the low murmur of his voice in your ear, began to drown out any other thought.

“I have you, love,” Shouto said. His mouth dragged across your throat, leaving a sucking bruise along the column. Your nails scrabbled at his back as he swelled even further inside of you, starting to catch on your walls and make it harder to press back down on him.

“I have you,” Shouto said again, his voice rough with pleasure. The reassurance that he did, and the knowledge that he was barely managing his own pleasure struck you like a bolt of lightning. Something inside you unraveled and came loose, and you muffled a cry into Shouto’s broad shoulder as your orgasm slammed into you like a tidal wave.

A low swear escaped Shouto, and his knot swelled even further. His hands suddenly seized tight on either side of your waist, holding you down on him as he thrust up into you. You felt a sort of pressure you’d never anticipated, so overwhelming it was nearly painful—but then Shouto’s knot slid into you.

Shouto groaned into your neck, biting down hard. You writhed over him, your pleasure wringing you out until finally you slumped against him, shivering. Shouto eased back, propping himself up on the arm of the couch, you stuck to his chest like a sweat-slicked barnacle.

“That was—so much more intense than I ever imagined,” you said, when you’d recovered your faculty for human language.

You could feel the curve of Shouto’s smile against your neck. “For I, as well,” he said. “Though I had imagined it a great many times—we still have many other fantasies I intend to live out.”

You were embarrassed to feel yourself tighten around him. Shouto hissed, leaning back to pin you with a look—then looked more smug than you’d ever seen him.

“Like that, do you, love?” he asked.

The pet name made your ears heat, and you couldn’t help but pinch him. “You used to be so sweet, when did you get this fresh?” you demanded.

“Fresh is the least of what I intend to get with you,” Shouto informed you seriously. “I take my duties as a child bride very seriously.”

Your jaw dropped open, and you pressed back from him, gasping when it shifted him inside you. “You—! You heard—?”

Shouto’s smile was far too handsome and self-satisfied to be allowed. “That is when I knew I stood a chance.”

Your face burned. You couldn’t believe him. “You’re a menace.”

Shouto leaned into a press a kiss over where he’d sunk his teeth into you, butterfly-light. The touch of his mouth was warm and his campfire scent washed over you, fuzzing your thoughts. His mouth moved up to catch yours, and you let him kiss you until you realized you’d started to squirm in his lap again.

Several minutes later he had you coming on his knot again, locked against him and muffling the sounds of your pleasure into his neck.

He looked, if possible, even more satisfied, and you lifted a hand to thread through the strands of his hair, silky and damp.

“I can’t believe this is real,” you said, several orgasms having made you loose-tongued. You rubbed a strand of his hair between the pads of your fingers.

Shouto turned his head to drop a kiss to the base of your palm. “We have time enough to make you believe it, love.”

Another butterfly took wing in your stomach at the pet name. You wondered if you’d ever get used to hearing him say it.

“I’ll have to figure out my work—I don’t know if they’d let me work remotely all the way from here?” you said, thoughts suddenly shifting. You sort of doubted your company would make the exception for you, and a pang shot through your heart at the idea that you might have to leave Shouto to work in the city on weekdays. At least until you found another job, which might take months to arrange.

You did not want to be separated from him, now that you’d let yourself have him.

A hand caught your chin, thumb smoothing along your jaw. “I do not think you will have enough time,” Shouto said, a slim brow raising slightly. “What with the bookstore opening.”

You stared at him, wondering if you’d just had some sort of auditory hallucination.

“The—what?” you asked.

“The bookstore opening,” Shouto said. His mouth made the shape of the words exactly, and so it could not be that you’d hallucinated. But—

“What bookstore?” you asked.

Shouto’s mouth pressed into a deliberately flat line like he was trying not to smile.

“Yours. Downstairs,” he clarified—which did not clarify at all.

Your mouth dropped open against his fingers, your eyebrows shooting for the moon. “My—? Downstairs—?”

Your mind scanned back over the events of the last twenty-four hours, the first time you’d caught sight of the shop downstairs again as you’d followed Shouto home. The way it seemed so well-maintained, the windows glinting crystal-clear in the soft evening light. Your eyes reflexively dipped to the blonde wood of Shouto’s floor, the very same that had been installed across the floor of the shop, and an understanding suddenly dawned on you.

“I remember everything you have ever told me,” Shouto had said when you mentioned you’d been in love with the shop downstairs.

“No way,” was what left your mouth as you glanced back up at Shouto, disbelief rising.

Shouto was watching you carefully, his handsome face serious. “Your name is on the deed.”

A wellspring of emotion rose up inside you like a geyser, and you slammed yourself back into Shouto, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “Shouto—I. You didn’t need to—there’s no way I can accept—this is incredible, you’re incredible—but I’d be taking advantage—I can’t—”

A warm, long-fingered hand slid up your spine to rest on the back of your head, holding you against him. “I have always been yours,” Shouto murmured. “Everything I have has always been yours. If it is too much now, we can wait. But I, and everything I have, will always be yours.”

You blinked, embarrassed to realize you’d started dripping tears into Shouto’s shoulder. Shouto didn’t say anything, fingers petting through your hair as you tried to fight the emotion down.

“I promised to take good care of you, and I intend to,” he said. Pressed against him, you could feel the way the words rumbled in his chest.

You closed your eyes and shoved your face in his neck, letting him hold you to him. Everything about today felt too good to be true, but you knew with absolute certainty that Shouto had always been too good to be true, himself. And yet you’d told him you trusted it, when he said he’d take care of you.

And you did—you realized you would always trust it, trust the beautiful boy you’d known all your life.

“I’ll need to pay you back on your investment,” you said some minutes later, when you finally found your voice again. You leaned back to look Shouto in the face, trying not to be embarrassed about the drying tear tracks.

“There is no need,” he said, eyes finding yours.

You realized you were still in his lap, though his knot had softened, and you thought you might be able to separate now.

But now you had other plans—and an investment you wanted to enthusiastically return.

“I insist,” you said, leaning forward to mouth at Shouto’s neck.

You caught the flash of his eyes widening, and his head fell back as a sharp breath left him. “I—see,” he said, his voice growing rough as you sucked a careful mark into the skin of his shoulder.

You smiled against his skin. “You will,” you promised, feeling bolder than ever. It felt like you were daring to believe it, that you’d found your life mate, that you really got to have him, that he’d loved you as long as he’d lived.

You wanted to return all those years of love, now that you loved him too.

“I’m going to take good care of you too,” you informed Shouto, hips already flexing over his.

You felt him start to grow hard inside of you again, and he turned his head to catch your mouth. You could feel his smile against your lips.

“I trust it,” he said, his voice dropping low.

You smiled too, grinning against your lifemate’s mouth, intent on proving yourself worthy of that trust.

Though perhaps that could wait until you’d delivered some of the many fantasies it sounded like he’d stored up. There was no reason to rush.

You had the rest of your life together, after all.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #shouto x you #shouto x y/n #todoroki x you #shouto todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #andie's writing #character: todoroki shouto

153 notes · View notes

orionsangel86 · 6 hours

Text

There is something about proudly proclaiming a show "tumblrista catnip" that makes me emotional.

Something about how for years tumblrinas were ridiculed by show creators.

Something about Supernatural having a meta episode set at a convention with all the weirdo fans that made the main characters uncomfortable. Something something about Becky and the message that fangirls are gross and obsessive.

Something about Sherlock and the way fans were portrayed as crazy obsessive nutjobs for trying to figure out how he faked his death.

Something about creators mocking fandoms, dismissing them as freaks. Something about queer people not being welcome to engage in their creations because "why do you have to make everything gay?"

Something about the malicious culture of queerbaiting throughout the 2000s/2010s, followed by Bury Your Gays tropes across the media landscape because hell, you should be grateful we even gave you queer characters to begin with - and everyone dies in our show! You ain't special!

Something about Destiel questions being banned from conventions...

And then...

Something instead about Good Omens, and letting the story adapt naturally, embracing the fanbase and leaning into the fanservice.

Something about Our Flag Means Death, and the genuine outpouring of love and affection between cast, crew, and fandom that culminated in an explosion of fanworks that were never once mocked or deemed gross or wrong.

Something about Sandman, and staunchly digging in their heels on the queerness of it all, refusing to give in to the homophobes and instead avidly mocking THEM on social media rather than us.

Something about the writers hearing about fandoms favourite ships and excitedly stating that YES! We DID lean into that because it happened naturally and made sense.

Something about a firefighter coming out as bisexual after 7 seasons...

So yeah, something about a new high quality show made FOR US. By creators that love US. Respect US, and WANT our love.

Something about US FINALLY being a target audience for the best shows being made on TV now.

Tumblrista catnip. Creators saying "we made this for you. You are important. Your voices have been heard."

It just... all got a bit overwhelming for a moment there.

#dead boy detectives #neil gaiman #representation matters #queer culture #the sandman #good omens #ofmd #911 #destiel #supernatural #sherlock #fandom history #tumblrista catnip #look how far we've come

196 notes · View notes

targaryenrealnessdarling · 19 hours

Text

A Duet of Fire and Fate

Part One | Series Masterlist

Summary: his music school having been challenged by Riverrun Conservatory, Aemond is given the opportunity to come face to face with their top musician | Word Count: 4.7k~ | Warnings: smut (not with the main female character), toxic relationship, semi-public sex

Nothing quite compared to the low hum, and delicate whine of a cello. It had been that way for some time, ever since he'd discovered it.

Aemond still remembers the look on his mother's face, her chocolate eyes wide with pride and joy, when her son who was still freshly mutilated, resulting in the loss of sight in his left eye, took an interest in playing classical music.

The cello had become more than just an instrument to Aemond; it was his refuge, his voice in a world that had grown suddenly more silent and unforgiving. The accident had not just taken half his sight but had cast a shadow over his once bright future. Music, however, brought light back into his life, offering a path forward that he had never anticipated.

The Targaryen name, synonymous with power and prestige in other realms, here lent an aura of intrigue and expectation to his performances. Yet, it was Aemond's own skill, the raw emotion he channelled through the strings of his cello, that captivated audiences. His music was a blend of classical elegance and a palpable intensity that seemed to stem from the very depths of his being.

And Aemond was nothing if not a perfectionist at heart.

He perfected everything, to the point of madness some felt. And if he had not invited a feeling of deep, primal intrigue from every performance he gave, then what was the point? This innocent hobby at first, honed by his parents and caregivers alike, was now a way of life. A career. Something to strive for.

As he became older, this competitive nature never wavered once. He embraced it like a challenge to be met. And the conductor of this prestigious school, Otto Hightower, both a friend of his father, Viserys, a business giant well-known across all of Westeros, and conveniently his grandfather, expected nothing short of the best from his prodigious grandson.

He was never self-conscious either, even if he was easily noticeable and stared upon everywhere he went. And one might expect little attention from the opposite sex in a world of classical music and elegant instruments, but for Aemond this could not have been less true.

He attracted in every show, not only with his talent but with his haunting appearance. The straight long scar through his left eye was struck in the middle by a pale blue pupil, his other seeing eye stark in comparison. Women would watch his slender fingers strike fear, passion and energy into their hearts, wishing the very same could grip at their skin.

To their frustrations, he never acted on this popularity.

Alys Rivers was the only woman he ever reciprocated affections of some kind for. At least two decades his senior, his family had been less than impressed at her presence in his life. But there was no choice on their part. Aemond had made his, and Alys Rivers, like it or not, was his muse. A classical music lover at heart. And a professional critic no less.

One might be forgiven for thinking they disliked each other, they rarely exhibited romance. She was more akin to his manager than anyone else, critiquing his manner of playing and giving advice where he didn't want it. And he rewarded her, away from the prying eyes of the public, with quick, angry sex, exerting what control he did have, into intimacy.

She, like him, had a haunting presence to her, but one less mysterious. More overtly seductive. And though sometimes it seemed to irk Aemond, some felt as if they were still acquainted by convenience if nothing else.

Aemond always arrived early to Kings Landing Music College. The stuffy, wood-panelled room gave some semblance of comfort. There was something about the acoustics, the closeness, that felt almost womb-like. Safe. Familiar.

Meticulously, tuning his cello, he half-listened to the skinny, pink-faced Blackwood, practicing at the same time, “sound like a fucking dying pig.”

“Half dying,” Aemond murmured, with a roll of his eyes.

Otto waltzed in, clad in black slacks and a loose forest-green jumper, “Blackwood, get your fucking instrument in tune please. Fucking Cole could do a better job in violas.”

Criston twirled two Timpani sticks between his fingers, giving a look of mock offence from across the room, “just because I'm over here doesn't mean I can't hear you-”

“Alright, alright, before we begin today’s practice, I have an announcement,” Otto declared, his voice commanding attention. The room quickly fell silent, the anticipation palpable in the air.

“We’ve been challenged to a competition by the Riverrun Conservatory,” Otto revealed, his eyes sweeping across the room, measuring the reaction to his words. The announcement ignited a buzz among the musicians, the rivalry between the schools notorious for its intensity.

“This isn’t just any friendly showcase. It’s a direct confrontation on neutral ground at the upcoming city arts festival. We will be judged on technique, emotional expression, and the complexity of our performance.”

Aemond’s pulse quickened. Riverrun Conservatory had a formidable reputation, known for their strict discipline and innovative performances. The thought of competing against them stirred a mix of excitement and nerve.

Otto’s gaze swept over the room, lingering for a moment on Aemond, then moving on. “I want crispness, I want emotion, and above all, I want precision. We will begin selecting the repertoire tomorrow. Today, I want everyone to focus on their sections. I expect perfection and I will accept nothing less than your best.”

With a decisive turn, Otto left the rehearsal space, his footsteps echoing his determination. The room erupted into whispers and hurried discussions; the stakes had been set.

Blackwood sighed, stress gnawing and weighing on his face. “Fuck me, no pressure then.”

“Don't fucking shit yourself. It's only Riverrun,” a lanky guy mumbled behind his flute.

“Shut your fucking mouth!”

Aemond tuned his cello once more, a determined glint in his eye. He was eager to prove himself, not just as a formidable cellist, but as a key player in leading his school to victory. As the rehearsal began, the sounds of strings, woodwinds, and brass filled the room, each musician pouring their heart into the notes.

Aemond knew that every session, every note, would count. The festival was not just another performance; it was a proving ground. And he was ready to claim his place on it.

With his cello perched on his back as if it were an extension of himself, Aemond strode toward Otto’s office. The familiar weight of the instrument reassured him, steadying his nerves as he prepared to discuss the imminent arrival of their rivals from Riverrun Conservatory.

Upon reaching the heavy oak door, Aemond knocked with a confident rhythm and was quickly greeted by Otto, who peered out from behind a mountain of musical scores. His deep-set eyes and beard, more salt than pepper, gave him an air of aged wisdom.

"Aemond, what's the matter?" Otto asked, noticing the urgency in Aemond's posture.

Stepping inside, Aemond carefully leaned his cello against the wall. "I've heard that Riverrun will be arriving tomorrow to practise here, in preparation for the festival. They’ll be using some of our facilities. I wanted to discuss how we can use this to our advantage, especially since their star pianist is said to be among them."

Otto raised an eyebrow, a slight grin playing at the corners of his mouth. Perhaps he saw the cunning nature reflected in his grandson he perceived in himself.

"Indeed, they will be here. It’s a rare opportunity to observe them up close, to learn their strengths and possibly their weaknesses. We’ve managed to arrange different practice times to ensure there’s no direct overlap, but our paths will certainly cross."

Aemond nodded, his mind racing with possibilities. "If we could subtly observe their practice sessions, we might glean insights into their preparation and techniques. It could inform our strategy and help us focus our rehearsals where we need the most work."

Otto walked over to his desk and shuffled some papers, revealing a schedule. "Here are the timings. Riverrun’s sessions are slotted just after ours in the adjacent rooms. It’s crucial we keep our interactions professional, but keep your eyes and ears open. Understand how their pianist integrates with their ensemble— it’s not just about her solo performance."

"Should we consider adjusting our pieces or rehearsal focus based on what we learn?" Aemond asked, his voice low.

"Potentially," Otto responded, tapping his fingers on the desk. "But let’s not be hasty. First, observe. See if there’s a particular piece they struggle with or excel in. We’ll adjust our strategy based on solid evidence, not assumptions."

Aemond felt a surge of tactical excitement. "I’ll make sure our section leaders are discreet but observant. We can use this chance to refine our performance to outshine theirs."

"Exactly," Otto agreed, handing Aemond a copy of the schedule. "Use this opportunity wisely. We need every edge we can get against Riverrun. Remember, they are guests in our school, so maintain the highest standards of respect and professionalism at all times."

With a firm nod, Aemond picked up his cello, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. As he left Otto’s office, he knew the next few days could define the outcome of the festival. The challenge was daunting, but Aemond was ready to lead his school not just to compete, but to win.

Aemond was barely through the front door of his apartment before Alys was barraging him with questions. Her fine lips were lacquered with red, fingernails painted a charcoal black as she poured herself a coffee.

“I heard about the competition. Riverrun is notorious. Sure you can handle it?” She smirked behind the rim of her cup.

He sighed, setting down his cello, “yes, I can fucking handle it.” That was his only response before sinking into the sofa, laying his head flat back against the sofa, eyes shut, as if he wanted her to disappear.

He was somewhat ashamed to admit the way he tensed and then relaxed at the way her fingers expertly kneaded his shoulders, massaging the stress from him. But even more so as they trailed down, sharp nails ghosting over his neck had his lips parting and his trousers growing tight.

“Now, now. You know I only want you to do better,” she cooed, “and you will get better, with the right critique.”

He could hear her smile, her tone light and sensual as she trailed off.

Aemond turned his head and looked up at her where she was looming over him, her thumbs still pushing circles on his sore muscles.

“Critique?”

Alys’s lips curved up in a knowing smile, her gaze fixed on him with an intensity that seemed to pierce through his weariness. Her green, emerald like eyes, were like daggers, hooking and reeling him in somewhere dark.

"Of course, critique," she murmured, her voice a melodious blend of challenge and tease. "Every artist needs it, even the great Aemond Targaryen. Especially with Riverrun breathing down our necks."

She moved around the sofa with the grace of a cat, setting her coffee down on the table before moving her legs either side of him, brushing her clothed core beneath her skirt against his growing hardness. "I watch, I listen, and I provide feedback that no one else dares to give you."

Aemond sighed, shifting to look at her more directly. The red of her lips was stark against the softer hue of her face, a deliberate pop of colour that matched the sharpness in her words. "And how exactly does your 'feedback' help me tonight?" he asked, his tone a mix of scepticism and intrigue.

"It helps because it makes you think. It makes you feel. Isn't that what music is about?" Alys replied, her hands now moving down from his shoulders, her fingers tracing lines across his chest through his shirt. "Besides, seeing you tense up like that, only to melt under my touch—it tells me where you're holding back. Not just here," she said, pressing briefly into a particularly tight spot. Then, her touch sank to his belt, then drifting lower and stroking his growing erection, teasing his length slowly.

"But here too."

Her approach was intoxicating, a dangerous mix of personal care and professional critique. "You're brilliant, Aemond, but even brilliance can be polished," she continued, leaning in to whisper against his ear. "Let me polish you, make you shine brighter. Let me push you to be the best, and then push a little harder."

Aemond felt the dual edges of her influence—the softness of her caress, the hard truth in her critique. It was a manipulation he allowed, perhaps even welcomed. Her presence was woven into his life, a thread that was both comforting and controlling. Sometimes too tight.

With two needy hands on her buttocks, he rolled up her skirt around her hips, dipping between her welcoming thighs, his ego somewhat inflated to find she was wet already. Alys did little else in reaction than assisting to undo his belt, taking his hard length in her hand and seductively massaging from base to tip.

He pulled her forcefully against him, fingers dug into her pale skin as she hovered over him and sank slowly, splitting herself open on his cock with a practised moan. Her hips moved instinctually, stretching to accommodate his thickness over and over.

Between grunts and curses, Aemond was rarely vocal. Sex was a way to dispel frustration and invite inspiration in his clear head afterwards. Alys could be anyone. But he had to admit, he found her interesting, if not for her advice.

Her manicured and rounded nails dug into his neck as Alys moved on him with vigour, one hand stealing between them to circle her bud to try and hurtle herself towards completion.

It had occurred to Aemond that she was similarly using him in the same way.

With a bruising grip around her waist, Aemond jutted up into her shakily, coming hard within Alys’ quivering walls in the aftermath of her orgasm. And once she gained her breath, she peeled his hands off her as if he were suffocating. His member slid out of her, softened and slick with her moisture.

Alys straightened, stepping back to observe him, her eyes assessing as she wiggled her skirt back down. "Tomorrow, I'll come to the rehearsal. I want to see how you handle yourself with Riverrun watching. I'll be watching too, taking notes." Her tone was playful yet serious, a reminder of her dual role in his life.

As she retreated to the kitchen, Aemond lay there, a part of him resenting the ease with which she shifted roles from lover to critic, yet another part eager to prove himself worthy of her praise, his heart going fast still in the aftermath of their hastened sex.

He knew that Alys's critiques, though wrapped in seduction, were aimed at forging him into a sharper, more formidable musician. In the complex symphony of their relationship, her motives played out in chords, each note crafted to challenge and change him.

The next day dawned crisp and clear, the early morning sun casting long shadows over the grounds of the music school. The building was abuzz with the nervous energy of anticipation, the air vibrating with the undertones of an impending musical clash.

As he made his way through the corridors to the rehearsal room, he could hear the murmur of voices, the tuning of instruments, and the occasional burst of laughter or a sharp command. Today, the halls of his own school would play host not just to its students but also to their rivals from Riverrun Conservatory.

Aemond entered the rehearsal room to find it already half-filled with his peers, each one keenly aware of the significance of the day. The room was set up with chairs and stands arranged in a precise semi-circle, awaiting the arrival of the Riverrun musicians.

Before long, the members of Riverrun Conservatory began to filter in, their expressions a mix of confident smiles and cautious glances. The room's atmosphere thickened with the tangible sense of competition, each group eyeing the other, assessing and reassessing.

Amid this tense backdrop, Alys slipped into the room, a notepad clutched in her hand and a pen poised for action. Her presence was a sharp reminder to Aemond of the dual aspects of their relationship. She caught his eye and offered a slight nod, an unspoken signal that she was here in her professional capacity.

The rehearsal began with Otto taking the lead, his voice firm as he called for attention. "Let's begin with a warm-up. Remember, while we share our space today, let's show our guests the level of excellence we strive for."

Aemond took his place, settling his cello between his knees. His fingers danced over the strings, tuning with meticulous care, his gaze occasionally drifting to the Riverrun musicians who were setting up nearby. Among them, he noticed a young woman, stood between two other boys who looked over her at one another with smug smiles. They were most certainly either violinists or cellists. But the woman between them, he saw, had such delicate fingers, this had to be the pianist he had heard so much about.

All watched them perform with a sort of challenging, stoic expression, as if judging every movement, every chord and sound made. Every choice scrutinised. In the corner of his eye, between glances at the music, Aemond noticed Alys scribbling down notes.

And when their performance came to an end, Riverrun Conservatory clapped, alongside their conductor, Lyonel Strong. He was burly, red-cheeked, strict but well-meaning, as far as Aemond had heard. But the way he and Otto Hightower looked at one another was akin to some secret rivalry nobody else was privy to.

Alys slid up to Aemond’s side as he began to tidy his instrument away, her presence immediately electric. “See that man?” she whispered, nodding subtly towards Lyonel. “He conducts with his heart on his sleeve, not a metronome like Otto. That’s why they play with such passion. It’s infectious, captivating.”

Aemond nodded, absorbing her analysis. He knew of her critical acumen, but there was a personal edge to her voice now. “You sound almost admiring,” he observed, watching her closely.

Alys’s expression darkened slightly, her emerald eyes flitting back to Lyonel. “I might admire his style, but not the man. Not after everything.” She sighed, a sound more resigned than angry. “He might be the maestro of emotions, Aemond, but off that podium, he’s a different story.”

Aemond did not inquire further. If he was being truthful with himself, he didn't much care for Alys' personal grievances.

“Keep a close eye on their cellist,” Alys warned from the sidelines, watching Riverrun tune and start up their instruments for their own warm up.

As Riverrun began their performance, Aemond’s attention initially settled on the cellist, analysing his fluid technique and the rich emotion flowing from his strings. However, his focus soon drifted to the pianist, who was poised before her instrument like a painter in front of a blank canvas. Her movements were almost ethereal, feather-like, as her fingers danced across the keys, each note floating into the air with a delicate precision that seemed to transcend the mechanics of the piano itself.

The pianist's performance captivated Aemond, her connection with the music evident in the subtle sway of her body and the gentle closing of her eyes as she played. It was more than mere execution, it was an embodiment of the piece, a true manifestation of feeling and artistry.

Alys, standing beside Aemond, watched the pianist with a discerning eye. After a moment, she leaned closer to Aemond and whispered, "See how she plays? It’s like she’s not just striking notes, but weaving a spell. Each touch is thoughtful, precise yet so naturally expressive."

Aemond nodded, fully absorbed in the performance. He could see what Alys meant—the pianist wasn’t just playing, she was performing in a way that made the piano speak directly to the audience. It was an inspiring display of how technique served as the foundation for emotional expression.

"Her approach is impressive," Alys continued, her voice a mix of professional respect and genuine admiration. "That’s what we need to aim for, Aemond. It’s not just about the notes, but how you make them feel alive, how you connect them to the listener’s soul."

Watching the pianist, Aemond felt a surge of inspiration mixed with a competitive drive. He realised that this was the standard he needed to meet and exceed. The way the pianist’s performance resonated in the room, how it seemed to stir the hearts of all who listened, including his own—it set a clear benchmark.

As the piece drew to a close, and the final note lingered in the air, a hushed silence fell over the room before applause erupted. The pianist looked up, her expression serene, almost surprised by the intensity of the audience’s reaction.

Aemond clapped, his applause thoughtful, infused with a newfound respect and a burning motivation. He turned to Alys, a determined look in his eyes. "I see it now," he said. "But she's nothing special. Our pianist is just as good."

“Just as good isn't enough. We have to be better. We need to surpass them—to be so outstanding that Riverrun feels like just a prelude to our performance. They shouldn’t just be impressed by us; they should be overwhelmed."

Aemond’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he processed her words. He watched the pianist from Riverrun mingle with the crowd, her presence still resonating with the lingering notes of her performance.

The shy, timid prodigy. A story written a million times. He felt as if he saw right through her, and no way was that washing with him.

“Meet me in the supply room before lunch,” Alys whispered, turning on her heel before Aemond could reply. The swing of her hips as she moved towards the Riverrun musicians and indication of what she wanted from him. All she ever wanted from him.

Aemond merely watched on from the sidelines, arms crossed. Alys mingled with them all, shaking their hands and wishing them luck in the weeks of practice and competitiveness to come. And when she finally shook the hand of the pianist, his gaze flickered between his lover and the delicate frame of this stranger he had yet to know.

Everything about her was different to Alys. She wore sheer black tights, and sensible shoes. Her skirt was flowy and ended mid tight, covered only at the top by her high-necked top, also black. And it was here he recognised a similarity in her and Aemond's dress sense.

Alys on the other hand exuded sexuality. Tight fitting skirts and dresses, no tights and heels at least four inches high. And while Alys wore a sleek straight style, the pianist was loose and free, if not slightly frizzy.

He watched the two women talking animatedly. Alys no doubt congratulating her on how well she plays.

He'd never been in more need of a cigarette then right at this moment.

“I apologise for him, he’s usually more expressive on stage than off,” Alys joked lightly as they approached, teasing Aemond in her usual manner.

The pianist extended her hand to Aemond with a firm, confident grip that surprised him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve seen your performances online,” she stated, her tone straightforward, skipping the usual pleasantries. Her directness was refreshing yet unexpected.

Aemond took her hand, a bit taken aback by her assertiveness. “Thank you,” he responded, realising only after the words left his mouth that she hadn’t actually complimented his work, just acknowledged it. “Your performance today was quite remarkable.”

“Thank you,” she replied, nodding politely, her smile brief. There was no reciprocal flattery, no effusive praise—just a clear, concise acknowledgment.

Her straightforwardness intrigued Aemond. It was rare for him to encounter someone who didn’t engage in the typical exchange of mutual admiration among peers, especially when one had just praised the other. Her confidence and lack of concern for social niceties made him rethink the usual dance of compliments that often felt more obligatory than genuine.

Their exchange maintained a professional veneer, but Aemond felt a distinct chill in the air as the pianist held his gaze with an unyielding intensity.

“I'm interested. How do you prepare for a performance of this calibre?” She asked in a probing manner, clasping her hands behind her back. And when she swept her hair out her face, a dash of her perfume hit him, light and floral, he noted.

“I focus deeply on the composition's technical demands," he responded crisply, his voice carrying a cool, almost detached quality. "Emotional expression is secondary to flawless execution.”

She bit back a smile he noticed before she could hide it, “that is quite a disciplined approach.”

"It’s the only way to ensure a performance is beyond reproach," he stated flatly, eyes scanning the room. "Judges appreciate perfection.”

“And the audience?”

He shrugged, “whether they do or not, it doesn't change my approach.”

She nodded, leaving a long pause, as if laying a trap, “interesting,” she mused, "I always believed that connecting with the audience was the true measure of a performance’s success."

“Emotions are too subjective.”

Alys, sensing the growing tension, interjected with a light laugh. "Aemond here is all about the technicalities when it comes to music. He believes in precision over passion."

The pianist tilted her head slightly, considering his response with an analytical gaze before a playful glimmer appeared in her eyes. “Are all aspects of your life subject to such rules?” her tone light, but probing. “Musicians are usually branded as romantics, after all.”

Aemond's brow twitched, a subtle annoyance. “There is a time and a place. In a competition, it's about control. Discipline.”

She hummed, slightly amused, “how practical. Does it not get lonely, striving so often for perfection?”

He shrugs, “it doesn't matter. Wins are measurable, feelings not so.”

“Musicians are not remembered for their wins. They're remembered for the feelings they tease out of people.”

Aemond’s gaze held steady, impressed by her ability to intertwine light-hearted banter with serious debate. “Maybe so, but I’d rather be remembered for setting records than stirring hearts.”

There was a long pause, her eyes never leaving him as if trying to piece together a delicate and intricate puzzle. And she had to bite her lip to contain her smile, simmering frustration in his chest.

“Interesting,” she mused, releasing her lip from between her teeth.

She finally broke their intense gaze, stepping back slightly as she prepared to leave. "Thank you for the conversation, Aemond. It was... enlightening," she said, her tone serious and reflective. "I'll be interested to see how your focus on the technicalities plays out in the competition. Good luck."

With a formal nod, she turned and walked away, her demeanour composed and professional. Aemond watched her rejoin her group, the interaction leaving him with a lingering sense of disquiet. Her straightforward, no-nonsense approach had challenged his views subtly yet profoundly, pushing him to reconsider the balance between technique and emotion in his performances.

Something he'd considered very little.

And as he fucked out his frustrations with Alys in the supply room, pushing her front against the wall and plunging into the tight warmth and solitude she offered, the encounter had ignited a new sense of challenge within him, or perhaps it was a hint of doubt, unsettling the confidence he had always felt in his methodical approach to music.

The usual clarity with which he viewed his musical career was now clouded with questions, thanks to a simple yet impactful exchange. It was a confrontation of ideals that made him both wary and intrigued.

It was clear now that the competition had escalated to more than just notes and rhythms—it was a clash of philosophies, a duel of passion in dual meaning.

And he was prepared to meet it head on.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blackswxnn @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @emmaisafictionwhore @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust @minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @primonizzutto @qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince

158 notes · View notes

lbxbx · 2 days

Text

Blackmail 3 | KTH

Pairing: Idol!taehyung x reader

Genre: smut, angst. Five shot

Synopsis: being part of their staff meant you had to be around them all the time, Taehyung has a checklist of all the girls he slept with and filmed and you were next on the list, as he lures you using several ways one of them being actually showing you the content he films, before you finally give in and he actually films you to tick you off of his list. Little do you know it’s the biggest mistake ever.

Disclaimer: events and incidents in this fiction are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This does not resemble Taehyung’s character whatsoever. taglist: @idkduewhy @wiebouquetbarbarian @tan-veee @pookiej @xstfudaisyx @junecat18 @whipwhops @mother2onsters @lil0u0 @whoa-jo

Previous | Next

It’s been almost a month, nothing changed really and he was right, during the whole tour you two kept it professional around the rest of the team, but not like all of the time, he would on purpose bite onto your fingers when you’re putting on his makeup, or even graze his elbow against your tits when you two are standing next to each other, but other than that you two kept it professional to avoid the rumors.

their tour ended a couple days ago and they planned a celebration dinner for the entire staff at a nearby restaurant for barbeque and you wouldn’t say no, they were nice enough to give everyone a raise and a few days off as a reward, so tonight was the last dinner before you get back to work this Monday to film their variety show.

You had woken up early to go and buy yourself the car you were saving for and you finally did, it had to stay at the agency for a couple more days for the license plate and papers, but you were at your best that day. The moment you get into the restaurant you are welcomed by everyone cheering around and raising their shot glasses and welcoming you in, you hug your friends and get seated with them before taking off your cardigan.

That day your mood was top notch, you felt strong and proud of yourself, you finally got your car, you adore your job that introduced you to so many nice people and you were really feeling your best. You got dressed into a white summer dress with spaghetti straps, and you can’t lie, you wanted to bring the attention to your tits.

The staff cheers again when the boys walk into the restaurant and they take their seats. And even when you know that what happened the other time was a one time thing, but fucking god Taehyung looked like a fucking snack. Nothing special really, but his gray sweatpants are going to be the end of you, you try your best to keep your eyes off of him and act occupied.

As the food is served and the atmosphere around the place was incredible, everyone was happy, some were even too drunk and dancing while chewing on their food, everyone was chatting and catching up, it felt like home to you, and you wouldn’t risk losing your job for anything.

On the other hand though, Taehyung is nodding his head to his manager who was telling him about his family nonstop but Taehyung doesn’t care, he’s not even sure he’s listening at this point.

He was searching for you the entire night, and right when his eyes landed on you the alcohol was already going through his system and he can feel his body heating up. He finds himself having flashbacks of how perfect your cunt wrapped around his cock when he was fucking you that night, he still didn’t get enough and he’s thirsty for more.

You made a great choice wearing the white dress because it did bring his attention to your tits, he clears his own throat at the thought of going down on you and fuck he needs you tonight.

You can easily tell that someone was looking and you know exactly who, so you turn your head away on purpose and gather your hair away from your neck to reveal more of your chest, this ignites him even more and all he knows is that he’s up on his feet excusing himself away from his manager and making his way to you.

“Good evening girls.” He leans his palm on the table with a toothy smile on his face. “Are you having fun?” He laughs on the inside and he finds it funny that he fucked every girl that was seated around this table.

“Yes!” Leah pours him some Soju and hands him the shot glass. “Have a drink with us.”

“Some other time, but hey Y/N, can we talk?” He tilts his head, everyone was too drunk to make a big deal out of it so you just nod your head and pull your chair back to get up onto your feet. He puts his hand on your lower back and walks a couple steps away from the table. “You look incredible tonight.”

“Oh yeah? How’d you like the dress?” You ask already knowing the answer, he high key stares down onto your tits and takes a step closer. “Would love to take it off of you tonight.”

You giggle and cross your arms. “I’ll take that as a yes, I got it when we were in the states last week.”

“Mhm, it brings out your tits.” He puts his hands in his pocket, his eyes still locked onto your chest. “Wanna come over tonight? I’m having an after party.”

You were never invited to after parties so you didn’t mind at all. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind, your place?” You ask, and he shakes his head right away. “No, I can’t risk something breaking or the apartment being messed up and getting dirty, I actually rented a B&B for the night.”

“Sure, I’ll be there.” You laugh when you realize that his eyes are not still not moving. “Is it an actual party or is it just us? Cause it sounds suspicious.”

“No, I promise it’s not just us.” He finally looks up at you and leans in to kiss you on the cheek. “I’ll see you tonight, I’m sending you the location right now.”

“Sure, I’ll see you tonight.”

He walks back to his table, this time pulling the seat next to Jungkook who’s digging into the pork belly. “So? How did it go?”

“She’s coming, you can consider it done.” Taehyung grabs onto the closest pair of chopsticks and grabs a bite. “I’ll leave first and set up the cameras.”

“Cool.”

Jungkook has probably watched your video with Taehyung more than Taehyung himself, and he’s been itching the entire time wanting to spend a night with you, he kept nagging wanting his friend to try and plan out a night or you three, and ever since they walked into the restaurant Jungkook thought it’s the perfect opportunity.

“Look just tell her it’s a fake party or something.”

“She’s not that stupid Jungkook, she’ll figure it out.” Taehyung gritted on his own teeth, he’s had enough and at this point he just wants things to get done with just to stop the nagging from the younger one.

“Just invite her over to your place or something, please.” He’ll shed tears if he needed.

“Alright fine.”

And it’s not until approximately 3 hours later, and people start leaving, you get up and put your cardigan on and grab your purse. “I’ll see you guys on Monday,”

“But hey, we’re going out with the girls to this club a couple blocks away, aren’t you joining us?” One of your girl friends asks, you look at your phone screen to check the time before straight up lying to her. “I can’t, I’m really tired and I have to go home, but hey, have fun.” You wave your hand goodbye and walk out of the restaurant before hearing someone calling out your name from behind and following you outside. “Y/N, wait up.”

You turn to the owner of this voice and it’s Jungkook, holding his car keys and wallet and running outside. “Oh hey, what’s up?”

“You’re going to Taehyung’s place? I can drive you there, I’m going there too.” He points his head towards his car.

“Oh, you don’t have to, he sent me the location I’ll call a cab or something.” You unlock your phone, he laughs and puts his hand behind your back. “Let me drive you there, come on.”

You don’t argue anymore and just follow him to his luxurious car, your ride there was quiet but not awkward at all, only the sound of his radio playing music was in the background along with the sound of the wind through the open windows.

“I guess it’s right here.” He finally parks his car, it wasn’t that far away but you can hear music blasting in the dark alleys, “Do you know who else is invited?”

“I know the rest of the boys couldn’t make it, but it’s mostly people you know.” You two leave the car and get into the building, Jungkook waves hello to the security guard near the gate and the guard smirks. Jungkook and Taehyung are recurrent visitors to this B&B and almost every time they show up with a different girl. “Have a pleasant evening Mr. Park.”

Yeah, he just called him that because the boys used fake names all the time when it came to such activities.

You both take the elevator to the 28th floor, the elevator doors open right into a huge apartment that was nearly empty, only two guys handshaking Taehyung and saying goodbye, before getting into the elevator and leaving. “Hey, where’s everyone?” Jungkook walks further inside, totally knowing that there won’t be anyone else but the three of you.

“They’re on their way.” Taehyung proceeds with the lie, before inviting you inside, again his hand on your lower back guiding you onto the leather couch. “Tequila?” He grabs out the bottle with a couple shot glasses.

“Yeah, sure.” You make yourself comfortable, Jungkook sits right next to you, you find it a little concerning when he’s sitting really close, his leg grazing against yours. “Kook?” Taehyung offers a drink.

“No thanks, I’m driving.” It makes you a little relieved that at least someone will stay sober. “Here you go.” Taehyung hands you the shot glass and clinks his own with yours. “Cheers.”

You gulp down the shot and grab the bottle to examine it. “It doesn’t taste half bad, I like it.”

“Here, let me pour you some more.” He grabs the bottle and pours you down another shot, before refilling his own and clinking it with yours, and the two of you throw your heads back when taking the shots. Gosh, why is it getting hot in here?

Jungkook gets up onto his feet and stands behind the couch, his hands landing onto your shoulders. “Can I help you with your jacket?” He asks, as if he knew you were started to feel overheated, you nod your head and pull your hair to the side as he helps you take off your cardigan, Taehyung who’s sitting next to you runs his fingers down your forearm and whispers. “So how was your vacation?”

Jungkook pours you another shot of tequila and puts the shot glass on the coffee table in front of you, before taking back his seat this time even sitting closer to you, your attention was on Taehyung the entire time as you were genuinely telling him about your vacation even when he truly doesn’t care, he’s just using the small talk as a way to distract you from realizing that no one else was going to show up, and he was giving Jungkook the chance to make a move on you.

And it was already planned ahead, as you were talking, you feel Jungkook’s fingers tugging your hair behind your ear and moving down to your neck and back, slowly and gently rubbing small circles to make you relax in your seat and it works in a click of a button, your eyes feel heavier and your body is heating up even when the cardigan is long gone.

You turn your head towards the younger one but Taehyung quickly asks. “Oh and what else did you buy?” Making you turn your head back to him, and Jungkook takes the chance to run his finger right under the straps of your dress and pulls it down, this time he wouldn’t resist the urge to put his lips right onto your shoulder to kiss you there making you flinch in your seat. “Jungkook?”

Taehyung nudges Jungkook from behind your back and laughs as he grabs your shot glass to hand it to you. “Here, have this.”

Jungkook adjusts his seat when he’s warned by the oldest and gets up onto his feet. “Should we put on some music?”

“Oh yeah, totally.” Taehyung walks towards Jungkook as they start flipping through their playlist to start the music, you grab your glass and drink the shot before putting it down, you’re already feeling lightheaded and your fingertips are on fire for some reason. You rarely had tequila unless you were going out with your friends or partying, tonight was neither of the occasions but it’s doing things to your body.

You lean back onto the couch and close your eyes for a second, you flinch again when you feel a set of hands on your shoulders. “Here, let me help you relax.” Jungkook stands behind you and rubs your shoulders, moving down to your neck and rubbing your skin, slowly but surely approaching again to kiss your neck, sending shivers down your body and spine. “Mmm.”

You’re definitely conscious but totally not oriented anymore, your tolerance for alcohol wasn’t really good so you got drunk way too fast. “Let me help you take those off.” Taehyung gets down on his knees, grabbing your foot in his hand and unbuckling your sandals to take them off, gently rubbing your feet that are heating up as well. He presses one kiss onto your ankle with his eyes locked onto yours and moves up to your calves.

“Mmm.” Rings in your ear when Jungkook fondles with the straps of your dress again, this time briefly pulling it down to reveal your shoulders and a little bit of your cleavage, licking there and nibbling small bites all over your skin. “Shit.” Barely escapes your mouth, you can’t keep up with both at the same time, especially when Taehyung has already reached your thigh and he’s biting onto you too. He pulls back and stands up again. “Let’s take her to bed Jungkook.”

And Jungkook doesn’t think twice before yanking his shirt off, Taehyung grabs you by your hands and walks you towards the bedroom that seems to be prepared and it hits you right now that this was planned for. You look around the room to see three tripods set up on the corners of the room which makes you turn to look at Taehyung. And what even possessed you? You shoot a smirk at him and tilt your head. “Are we filming this?” And by the way, the sober you wouldn’t have accepted this at all.

Did they even put something in your drinks? Of course they can’t, you only blame the tequila for this.

“Yeah.” Taehyung throws off his top too and walks behind you to put his hands onto your hips, pulling you close to him, “Do you see Jungkook right there?”

“Mhm.” You stare at the youngest, you’ve seen his body all the time at work but this time it’s making you wet when you see him topless with a boner begging to be released from his sweatpants. “Jungkook has been thinking about you the entire time, wanting to make you feel good just like I did before, and we can’t let him down, can we?”

“What do you say princess?” Jungkook walks closer, rubs his nose against yours and bites onto your lower lip. “I think I can fuck you better than he did.”

Your body is heating up again and your face is bright red when you’re sandwiched between the two, Taehyung’s clothed erection poking your ass and Jungkook’s erection poking your lower stomach. “No blindfolds this time.” Your condition makes Taehyung giggle from behind you before he collects your hair away from your neck and whispers. “No blindfolds this time.”

Jungkook’s tattooed hand grazes onto the skin of your thighs before it lands right onto your covered cunt, his lips that are hovering over yours curl into a smirk when he feels your cunt pulsating against the moist thin piece of fabric, he presses his hand to locate your clit and proceeds to rub it in circular motion, his lips finally connecting to yours for a single kiss. “That’s it.” Taehyung whispers from behind you, his hands still on your hips and slowly scrunching up your dress in his hands to reveal your little white panty, his hands grope onto the flesh of your ass tightly leaving trails of his fingernails.

You throw your head back against Taehyung’s chest when Jungkook’s fingers move faster. Jungkook knows the female body well too, so with a quick glance to your chest that rises faster he can tell you’re already aroused enough and ready to cum any second now, but he can’t let you cum right now, the night is still young and he’s planning to fuck your soul out of your body.

He pulls back and takes off his sweatpants, Taehyung throws your dress off and takes a seat onto the bed, and just like the first time, he butters up his bread by holding your hand to come closer and sit onto his leg, cupping your face closer to kiss you, your lips parting for his tongue and your hands holding his head slowly making your way to scratch the back of his hair softly. Taehyung’s hands are slowly moving to your back to unclasp your bra and reveal your swollen tits.

Jungkook gets into the bed and leans his head against the headboard. “Come here princess.” Jungkook seems to be a lot softer than Taehyung and you clearly remember hearing the girls from the staff mentioning that he was romantic and sweet in bed.

But you also heard one of the girls mentioning that she couldn’t walk after she spent a night with these two. Well at least tomorrow you have the day off so you can rest.

You obey and climb the bed, crawling on your hands and knees towards Jungkook and he pulls you in for a kiss again, his hands moving down to his own boxers to palm his boner. “I wonder if my dick can fit in that little mouth, do you think we can try?”

And you hook your fingers onto the top of his boxers and pull them down slowly, his hardened cock escaping it and almost hitting you in the face making you giggle. Again, you blame the alcohol.

You grab his cock into your hand while locking your eyes into his, stroking it gently and licking the tip once, you were too distracted with what’s in your hand to not focus on Taehyung, who’s already fully naked and climbing on the bed too, positioning his head between your legs, his arms hook around your thighs and he pulls you fully down to land on his face.

It drives Jungkook feral when he sees your eyes slowly closing and your jaw dropping down at the contact of Taehyung’s warm mouth to your clit. He grabs his own cock and the back of your hair, pointing the tip to your lips and slowly pushing your head down to take more of his cock into your mouth. “Mmm.” Your other hand lands onto the bed and you grab the bed sheets into your fists when Taehyung wraps his mouth around your clit. It was so arousing and you almost feel like this is too good to be true.

The tip of Jungkook’s cock hits the back of your throat making him gasp and pull you away. “You look so fucking beautiful with that cock in your mouth. Hyung get the camera.”

You whine when you feel the warmth of Taehyung’s mouth drifting apart from your cunt, he gets up and takes one of the cameras off of the tripod and hands it to Jungkook. The youngest grabs the camera and points it towards you, he doesn’t bother looking at you when he can clearly see your face from the tiny screen on the camera.

His grip gets tighter on your hair and he pulls you down to suck onto his cock again, bobbing your head up and down still not reaching your throat. And in the meanwhile Taehyung gets back in his earlier position and wraps his mouth around your cunt, flicking his tongue against your entrance and even pushing it inside to stretch your pussy with it, your back arches when he sucks onto your clit like there’s no tomorrow, you try and move your hips away from him but he hugs onto your legs making you fully sit on his face.

“Mmm.” Jungkook’s cock is making you choke on words and you can barely make a sound specially when he pushes further inside your mouth, this time the tip poking your uvula and making you gag and try to pull back, his grip onto your hair tightens and he pulls you up, zooming in with the camera to show the strings of your saliva connecting your mouth to his cock that’s already leaking precum. “You’re doing so good princess, do you think you could do it again?”

“Fuck.” Is all you manage to moan off of the top of your lungs when you feel Taehyung’s fingers enter your pussy, slowly curling them against your spot and thrusting them in and out, your wetness already covering his fingers and dripping down his palm. Your cunt clenches around his fingers and swallows the two digits inside which makes Taehyung mumble. “Fuck.” Your pussy was getting greedy for more.

Jungkook pushes his cock back into your mouth and moves his hips up to meet your lips, your eyes shut tightly and your tears stream down your cheeks when you gag again this time audibly, making Taehyung spank you on the ass and dig his fingers into your flesh. “Good fucking girl, Ugh.. that’s it.” Jungkook was pretty vocal in bed.

Your hand lands onto his big thigh and tap it repeatedly, begging for him to pull out so you can catch a breath, and he pulls back to watch you gasp for a breath, your nails dig into his skin and you look onto his lips, feeling over stimulated from the man that’s sitting between your legs. “Fuck I’m gonna cum.” If you’d only see how you looked in the camera, it was phenomenal.

“What do you say Jungkook, should I make her cum?” Taehyung asks, pushing one more digit into your thirsty pussy making you scratch onto Jungkook’s skin, your hips slowly grinding against his fingers. “Please make me cum.” You beg, holding onto Jungkook’s dick into your hand and stroking it. “Please.”

“Don’t make her cum.” Jungkook throws the camera down and gets up to switch positions with Taehyung, sitting behind you with your ass facing him, he spanks you on the ass again and buries his face into your ass, licking your puckered hole and teasing your entrance with his fingers, “Holy fuck.” You reach your hand back to hold onto his long dark hair and push him closer into your ass, in the mean time Taehyung grabs your face into his hands and pulls you in to kiss you once before whispering. “Do you think it’s fair if you blow his dick and don’t blow mine?”

He strokes his cock and points the tip to your mouth and gets a tight grip of your hair, before thrusting his hips up to meet your mouth, repeatedly fucking your mouth and the only sound you can hear is your throat clicking with each thrust, and Jungkook’s hums as he savors your juices that are flooding out of your cunt. He swears he’s never tasted a pussy like yours.

You’re already fucked, your cunt was clenching around Jungkook’s tongue with each gag you release, your fingernails are digging into Taehyung’s thighs and your throat is done for today. Taehyung pulls back just to observe your fucked up face and it scratches the itch inside him to see you like that, all messy and drooling from being fucked in the face by his cock.

“Come here.” He lays down completely on the bed and pulls you away from Jungkook’s grip, his hand reaching down to massage your entrance with the head of his cock and smacking it against your wetness. Jungkook sits up behind you and strokes his dick too before pointing it to your butt hole, your soul escapes your body when they both enter you at the same time and you could swear you see stars.

The magical stretch in your pussy caused by Taehyung sends you to heaven, and it’s more arousing to him when he feels your cunt hogging his dick and clenching around it, slowly pushing more inside you until he’s balls deep, not giving you a second to adjust. His eyes are locked onto your face when your body stiffens, he could easily pound into you all night and he’ll still be hungry for more.

And the cherry on the top was the stretch you feel in your ass, Jungkook whimpers and grips tightly onto your ass when he feels how tight your hole was around his cock, it drives him insane enough that he feels himself seconds away from painting your insides with his seed, he takes a second to breath before pushing in further inside, he grits onto his own teeth and throws his head back. “You’re fucking incredible princess.”

And you, goodness you were doomed, your entire spine stiffens when Jungkook enters you more but your back arches when Taehyung gets balls deep inside you, this is so overwhelming to you and you never tried this, it takes a single twitch from Jungkook’s cock inside you to make you cum, Taehyung being the first one to notice when you clench around him smirks, he grabs your face closer and laughs. “Your princess is creaming on my cock.” He tells Jungkook, and Jungkook is not even listening he’s in his own world.

Both of them start moving in and out of you in sync to fuck you through your orgasm, you can barely balance on your own hands so your entire upper body lands on top of Taehyung, your silent cries in his ears are more than enough evidence that you’re as aroused as they are. “Don’t stop.” Is what you manage to say, one hand barely moving behind you to grab Jungkook’s thigh and dig into his skin too. “Please..”

Both of them pound into you not giving you a break after your orgasm, only minutes after you feel yourself building pressure on the inside and you know you’re about to cum again if they don’t stop. “Shit.” You whine when you feel Jungkook pulling out of you, he taps Taehyung on the thigh once and they switch positions again.

This time Jungkook enters your vagina and Taehyung pushing into your ass making you scream off of the top of your lungs, Taehyung proceeds to fuck you in the ass endless when he knows you’re prepped enough for him to pound into you fearless. But for Jungkook, it takes him a second to appreciate how your cunt wraps around his cock, he grabs your head into his hands and pulls you in to kiss you, pressing his forehead against yours and slowly making his own pace to move inside you.

“Mmm, fuck.” Your fist clinches the bed sheets behind Jungkook and you look him in the eyes. “You’re gonna make me cum again.”

“Cum for me princess.” He wraps his fingers around your neck and finally starts moving inside you, the friction from both dicks hitting your spots over and over makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head and again you lose your balance and land on Jungkook, he wraps his arms tightly around your body to get a better grip and pounds into you again, Taehyung on the other hand is seconds away from busting a nut and he’s debating in his head whether he should cum inside you or not, Jungkook’s penetration is making your ass tighten around Taehyung’s cock and it feels fucking insane inside you. And to make you cum faster he reaches his hand down to your clit to rub it in a circular motion.

“Fuck, fuck…” This was your end, your back arches one last time and you squirt against Jungkook’s dick hard enough to push him out, Taehyung still rubbing your clit and fucking your ass through your orgasm, your body shudders and you suffer to catch a breath again.

Jungkook is milliseconds away from reaching his end as well, he gets up onto his feet and grabs you by your wrist to pull you down onto the floor onto your knees. Both of them stand right by your face and stroke their dicks a couple last times before releasing their load onto your face and neck, and you don’t know what is it but you can’t like the taste of it whatsoever, this time luckily you didn’t gag like the time before, you were able to control yourself.

Taehyung as usual, gets into the bathroom and you hear the shower water running, but Jungkook… He stayed.

Even when there’s another bathroom and he could easily go shower, but he decided to stay, he grabs a nearby towel and a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap and wetting the towel to clean your face gently, he goes down onto his knees still breathless and whispers. “I think you deserve to be taken care of after giving me one of my best fucks ever.”

You barely laugh and hug your arms closer to your body to cover it, he hands you the water bottle and helps you take a couple of sips. “Are you feeling okay?” He can see your hands shaking.

“Mhm, I’m just sore, that’s all.” You look around the room trying to locate your dress, Jungkook follows your eyesight and stands up. “I’ll go grab your dress.”

Of course you were thankful that he’s here but still, he doesn’t owe you anything and you could easily clean yourself up and just go home, but he grabs your clothes and helps you put them back on, “Thanks.” You grab the bed for support but Jungkook helps you up. “Jungkook call her a cab.” You hear Taehyung from the bathroom, but Jungkook rolls his eyes and leaves the bedroom to put his clothes back on. “Come, I’ll drive you.”

“You know you don’t have to.”

“Come on Y/N, let’s go.”

Monday comes in a blink of an eye, you were feeling a lot better and this time you didn’t need the painkillers, it seems like you’re slowly getting used to it and honestly you don’t like the fact that you are.

Your eyes almost pop out of their sockets when you remember the fact that you were filmed that night, but hey come on, what’s the worst that could happen? You’ll just end up on his phone like any other content. You can’t deny you’re a little embarrassed, not only you were filmed, but you had your first threesome ever that night, it felt good and all but it was with the guys you work with and you have to see this morning.

You promised yourself sincerely that this cannot happen again no matter what, you know it can cause trouble for the two of you, well right now it’s for the three of you, but it can’t happen again and you have to keep your promise to yourself.

“We’re starting in 10 minutes.” The producer shouts for everyone, and you finish your last touches on Taehyung with the sitting spray. “You’re all good.”

“Thank you.” He leans forward towards the mirror to check out his face. “What do you think about that night?”

“Not bad, but it can’t happen again.” You carefully whisper low enough so you can’t be heard.

“I know right? I don’t think I liked the attention stolen away from me—“

“No Taehyung. The whole thing in general, it can’t happen again.”

“Let me help you change your mind, come here.” He leaves his chair and grabs your wrist to pull you out of the makeup room into another room in the studio. “Remember the first time we slept together? Back in London.”

“Yeah.” How could you forget?

“Don’t be mad, but I filmed us having sex.” He looks at you, waiting for your face to change, and you giggle in disbelief. “Of course you didn’t, I didn’t see any cameras.”

“Well practically, you were blindfolded in the first half.” He shrugs and opens the movie on his phone, thinking he did something he’s going to be credited for, or thinking he did you a favor and you’re going to thank him any second now.

But cold sweat washed through your entire body, your limbs feel numb gradually all the way from your fingers to your shoulders, your ears are buzzing and you’re practically dizzy at the view you see. “You can’t be serious.”

The look of disbelief in your face was genuine. A couple days ago you were filmed with your consent, but that time you were filmed behind your back?

“Just watch it before you say anything, you’re gonna love it.”

“Why would you do that?” 15 minutes into the video you ask him, your hands barely able to hold onto his phone, at the point the amount of sweat your body released was enough to make you dehydrated, you kept swallowing repeatedly but your throat was dry.

“Well… you agreed to be filmed the other day didn’t you?”

“Oh so that makes it okay to do it?” You argue. “Is this why you blindfolded me? So I wouldn’t see you filming?”

“Y/N you’re being delusional.” The audacity on this man to gaslight you.

“Delusional? How exactly am I delusional?” You push him. “Taehyung you literally filmed me without my consent, this isn’t delusional this is a fucking crime.”

He breaks into laughter, totally unbothered to look back at you. “Relax, I’ve already showed you content on my phone and yours will be like any of them, it just stays on my phone for reference, whether it was the one from London or the other night.”

“Yeah, it means you’re showing it to your next victim.” You shut your eyes tightly still wishing this is a nightmare of some sort. “Okay, let’s just calm down and choose the easy way out, delete them both.”

He scoffs at you as it you just told him a joke. “Of course I won’t, in fact next time we’re filming it again.”

“Let’s be clear, there will be no next time. And I’m in this video, don’t you think I have a say in it? Please delete it.”

“Well, I filmed, produced, and was in the video, I get a say in it too.” He finally gets up. “And honey, there will be a next time, and you will be filmed, otherwise, you’re not going to be happy with I might do.”

“You can’t force me Taehyung.” You take a step back, “Oh no, I’m not going to force you god forbid, you’re going to willingly come to me and ask to be filmed Y/N, and it’s for your own good.”

You watch him unlock his phone and replay the video again, this time your face is on full reveal right after you took your blindfold off. “I don’t think your family would be happy when they see their daughter being fucked till she can’t walk, and most importantly, I don’t think your superiors are going to be happy when they see you fool around with an idol.”

Oh my god, how did you not see this coming?

Of course someone who begs girls to get into bed and films them doesn’t just film them for his own pleasure. He films them all just to blackmail them into sleeping with him again, and obviously it worked on anyone.

But it can’t work on you, you’re smart and you will probably figure your way out of this at some point.

“I’m blindfolded and cuffed in the video you dumb fuck, it’s very clear I was the one forced into this.” Except you weren’t forced into this and that’s where the major problem is. You willingly went to his room and you agreed to sleep with him, and oral consent legally counts. And the other night the camera was right onto your face and you were totally okay with it. It’s partially your fault too for agreeing to go into this.

He turns the volume up with a smug smirk on his face as he proves to you that you weren’t forced into this.

“I need to cum. Taehyung please, don’t stop.”

“Again, please, do it again”

“Do you wanna be fucked or not?”

“Yes please.”

“But isn’t this you begging to be fucked?” He takes a step closer and you quickly snatch his phone and throw it across the studio which makes him get a grip of your wrist and forcefully push you to face the wall. “Listen sweetheart, we both know how much of a slut you are, you agreed on going through this willingly but we’re finishing this my way, so be a good girl and act smart for once.”

“Taehyung let go.” The tight grip on your forearm hurts, you tried to fight and push him away but you couldn’t when his body is fully pushed against you. “Please let go.” Your voice has already gone shaky, worried he’d do something to you or even hurt you more than he already did.

He could easily kill you and no one will find out considering everyone else was occupied on the set.

“Tomorrow night, I’m texting you the location, be there at 8, otherwise, it’s going to be a serious problem and you don’t want your life to be destroyed don’t you? I could just post that video and no one would look at you the same ever again, you’d lose your job and no one is going to hire you.” He feigns kindness and tugs your hair behind your ear before caressing the side of your face and pressing a kiss onto your cheek. “And I know you’re smart enough to not let that happen.”

You look at him over your shoulders as your tears roll down your cheek. “Save your tears, any attempts of messing around, I want you to keep in mind that I have several copies of that video.”

“What did I ever do to you?” You question him, wondering if you actually did anything to him before that he needs to take his revenge this way but no, you two always kept it professional but the way this man was built was unlike any other man.

A toxic grown up who uses his position, if it’s considered one, to blackmail women and manipulating them into fulfilling his weird kinks willingly. It sucks that you too fell into his trap.

He collects his phone and tilts his head while laughing psychotically. “My god, you actually look scared right now, you realize you don’t have to be, right? Don’t you trust me?”

Clearly not.

“Oh I get it, since this clip clearly contains you showing up to my room back in London, hmm.. a staff member showing up to an idol’s room, this obviously means that you were trying to persuade me into something, or worse, it could look like you’re actually seducing me.” He looks around pretending to think. “If that were the case I guess people should probably know, they might just go ahead and fire you and you’ll be labeled for the rest of your life as the staff member who actually harassed the idol.”

“What are you? And how are you hiding all of this?” Your chest heaves, the man has already planned anything ahead of time and he clearly knows how to set you up if you don’t show up to your sex appointment, but it wasn’t only you who’s threatened. These exact same words were told to everyone, hence they all slept with him again and again.

“I don’t want this video out either, but it’s all up to you right now baby.” He puts on his shirt and collects his stuff. “See you tomorrow.” He presses another kiss to your cheek and leaves the workout room leaving you standing against the wall helpless.

You don’t know what’s next, but you surely know that you can’t have sex with him ever again and you need to earn yourself time before tomorrow to be able to figure out a plan.

How come girls are treating him well even when he blackmailed them? They all slept with him but they never warned each other, gosh you’re starting to think that maybe you should talk to someone about this maybe they could help.

Help? How exactly when they fell into this trap before you and they surrendered to it and chose to agree and sleep with him again. You collect your stuff and head back home, you need to think or probably sleep on it before figuring an actual solution that will get you out of this.

Yeah, sleep on it, you scoff when it’s already past 3 in the morning and you’re still flipping in your mattress. It’s killing you that you’re totally clueless and nothings comes to your mind other than just give up and sleep with him again to save your career and your reputation.

You take your phone out and fully decide on texting him.

3:27 | You.

What do you want from me?

You’re crossing your fingers hoping that he’s awake, you see the read receipts within a minute before he calls you and you answer right away, you can’t waste anymore time.

“Why are you still up?”

“What do you want from me Taehyung?” You sit up adjusting the pillows behind your back. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“You’re making a big deal out of it.” He sounds like he’s half asleep. “You should be grateful that I’m just asking for sex nothing more.”

“You’re blackmailing me just for sex? Taehyung you literally slept with a countless amount of women, you can go sleep with any of them and just forget what we had.”

“Listen, I don’t have much time to argue about this, just do as I say and be there tomorrow—“

“I’m not gonna be there.” You argue right away, shrugging your shoulders as if he can see you.

“Oh really?” He scoffs. “Listen sweetheart, I’m sending the location right now, be there at 8, otherwise you know what’s going to happen.”

“You know what? You’re an obsessive piece of shit and you need to get help.” You hang up and throw your phone away.

Okay think, Y/N. Think.

He could easily post the video and you will easily lose your job and your reputation, but at the same time, what has he got to lose? There must be a way to stop this but you’re still not thinking well.

You were never an over thinker but tonight you are, imagining what would actually happen if he ended up posting the video, what would your agency think? What would his fans think?

Exactly.

He’s in the video too he can’t post it otherwise it would harm him too, you’re in the video cuffed and blindfolded, but he’s in the video spanking you with an actual belt and even slapping you and that’s considered assault. And the video from a couple nights ago, you’re a helpless woman sandwiched between two grown up men, it’s pretty clear that you were talked into it.

But you also need to set him up somehow, you’re thinking that you may have to go tomorrow night just to convince him that you’re okay with what he wants. You need to plan this carefully in order to take him down.

You have something, or an idea on how you’re going to set him up, but it’s going to cost you an extra night with him and you just have to force yourself in order to protect your career and what’s left of self worth.

“Good morning.” He enters the room and takes his top off, they’re filming another episode of their variety show before heading out to film something overseas next week. The rest of the staff get to work and you do too, putting the headband on to pull his hair back. “I’ve been thinking about you all night.”

He looks at your reflection for a second, your call ended last night with you calling him ill so he wasn’t sure if you were talking to him. “Oh yeah?” He sounds suspicious.

“Mhm.” You look around and lean forward to whisper in his ear. “I was watching this movie, and it made me want to try some things out with you.”

He was quickly lured into the subject and he low key thinks you’re being for real, he may be smart and shit, but he’s still a man, and men are so easy to seduce. He smirks and turns his head to face you. “What is it?”

“Remember when we discussed slapping before? You told me that I could ride your uhm.. you know.” You’re truly disgusted with yourself, are you really doing this?

Jungkook is watching your reflection through the mirror and he can see you inching forward to whisper into his ear which makes Taehyung bite onto his lip and close his eyes. “Yeah, we could totally do that, but hey what made you change your mind?”

Not only Jungkook is watching, but the rest of the girls on the staff are now sure that you two or onto something, and they pity you thinking you don’t already know who the real Taehyung is.

You print a kiss onto his ear and pull back, he looks up onto your lips and bites his own before whispering. “I could fuck you raw right here on this chair and I don’t care what people might say.”

You fake a giggle and continue doing your job, secretly wishing you could just stab him in the eye with a makeup brush or probably suffocate him with the band around his head. You feel your eyes filling up with tears. You can’t do this, it can’t happen again.

Taehyung hasn’t had enough time to produce the second movie of your night with Jungkook, his fogged up drunk brain from the other night recalls picking up the cameras and throwing them into his handbag and just going home, too tired to even transfer the files to his iPad or even think about editing them.

Luckily it’s all saved on the memory card so he kept procrastinating until he had enough time after finishing his schedule in the afternoon, he had to rent another B&B or a hotel room since he’ll never invite you to his own place, so he grabs his stuff and drives there to prepare anything and kill some time with editing.

He collects the three memory cards and starts digging through the files, but for some reason he can’t find them. He pouts in confusion and puts the memory cards back into the camera and opens it, searching through the filmed media, and weirdly enough, he can’t find a single video from that night.

Same thing goes for the other two memory cards, and nothing. Were the cameras never filming? Did they forget to press record?

There’s a reason why he has to be sober on nights like these, he needs to be conscious enough to be careful with what he does and how to handle his equipment.

He did in fact forget to press record, even the camera Jungkook had in his hand, there was nothing on it, none of the cameras were recording and you got lucky with that. There’s nothing to prove that you agreed to any of this.

151 notes · View notes

doromoni · 10 hours

Text

Clash of Champions | LH44 , MV1

Act 2 . Part 3 : The Champion’s Weapon

Ships : Lewis Hamilton x Engineer! Reader , Max Verstappen x Engineer! Reader

Genre : Drama , Angst , Romance

Warning : Morally Grey Characters , Swearing , Insinuation of Forced Drug Use,

A/N: Forgive me for taking so long. University had me by the neck.

Summary : The rivalry between the titans of Formula 1 go off track and only one will reign victorious

< Previous

Act 2. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The sudden exit of Y/N L/N had put immense pressure on Mercedes. Investors had started pulling out and stock shares were dropping by the second. The influence behind your name was something that Mercedes had never accounted for.

Your move to Red Bull has been one of the most shocking news of Formula 1 since Sebastian Vettel’s move to Ferrari. The name Y/N L/N had always been strongly associated with the German racing team — No one outside Mercedes had expected the sudden team shift.

From the outsider's perspective, Y/N L/N and Mercedes were a package deal. Your initial start at being Nico’s head engineer had turned heads. Then you suddenly transferred to Lewis’ team without explanation and had the paddock talking. But are you leaving Mercedes to move to their rival, in the middle of the most competitive season? All of the motorsport is in the question of why.

You were the best race engineer of your time. Every other team would kill to have you in their pit wall. Now Red Bull had you and your addition to the team was forecasted to be monstrous on the grid.

Nothing was set, but rumors had spread that you were going to be Max’s engineer as soon as possible.

The rumors were not baseless. You were ready to go and wreak havoc on Mercedes. And if that meant being with Max at Red Bull, then you’ll do so with a smile.

The excitement and eagerness of a new start was seeping off of you as you entered Red Bull Racing Headquarters. Your red-bottomed heels resounded with every step you took. Each step confident as the last one.

Red Bull’s factory was a sight to behold, the atmosphere felt very much alive and bustling. People in uniforms and iPads fly in and out of rooms like worker bees.

Each one greeted you with smiles, waves and with some stopping and talking to you as if you weren’t the enemy just a few races before. The feeling and interaction were so foreign, you have forgotten that not every motorhome was as toxic as Mercedes.

Your eyes linger towards the ginormous 2 story wall of trophies. It was not short of impressive. But what caught your attention wasn’t the number of trophies … but the empty section on it.

Then suddenly, you were pulled into a warm embrace. Your back is tucked into your chest, and your arms are wrapped around your waist loosely. The scent of sandalwood, spice and bourbon filled your senses.

“Christian said that section was for me. For future wins and all. ” Max spoke down to your ear, his breath sending your stomach spinning in every good way possible. His thumb gently brushed over your hips.

You couldn’t help but chuckle as he said that. Leave it to Horner to show his favor towards the Dutch Driver.

Although you enjoyed being in the comfortable and warm hug of the Dutch driver, you realized that you were still in the middle of the lobby.

So you reluctantly removed yourself from Max’s hold. Your eyes suddenly turn your attention back to the bewildered Red Bull employees and staff who are watching you and Max wide-eyed.

Shocked at the display of affection from their usually stoic 1st driver. What's more, it was towards the beautiful race engineer with a reputation of being merciless. The news of what happened at the party didn’t help your odds.

The situation suddenly dawned on you. People just saw you and Max.

“Shit! Max people are looking ” You looked at the Dutch driver, alarmed. The memories of Lewis denying your relationship to all of Mercedes came back to you. And you couldn’t lie, it still stung.

“Yeah, I know. Why, what’s wrong Y/N? ” Max was so nonchalant and unconcerned. You and Max haven’t talked about what your relationship was and what it would mean for the both of you when you were to become coworkers. Your mouth went ajar at his calmness.

“What’s with that expression? Should I be concerned?” Now Max looked at you confused as he surveyed the environment.

“You don’t care? “ You asked. Max just shrugged and muttered a no. His hand finds its way toward your waist again.

Laughing to yourself, finding the circumstances extremely funny. A huge smile then blossomed on your face. While Max was looking down at you with amusement.

“Why should I care if people are looking? Is it weird to hug my girlfriend?” Max called you his girlfriend as if were natural. He said it with so much assurance

“I'm your girlfriend?” You asked, now a smile wide on your lips. You were teasing the driver, but you had butterflies. You felt giddy as you gazed at Max.

“If you’ll take me as your boyfriend and wouldn’t mind me taking you out and spoiling you. Then yeah, you’re my girlfriend” The look on Max's was smug, and he had every right to be. Max’s charming ways did things to you and he knew it.

“Hmm , I don’t know. I’m not sure if I should be dating my driver. Conflict of interests, you know?” You played along — a glint in your eye that Max surely got.

“Maybe you're right, I’ll move to Mercedes then” Max joked back. You laughed along making sure to slap his chest with faux disapproval.

Your humor matched Max’s and learning each other’s boundaries was easy.

“Oh, you better not!” You exclaimed exaggerating. Max continued to laugh along.

“Seriously, Y/N. Will you please be my girlfriend officially ?” Max’s voice then held seriousness and a little bit of uncertainty. He looked directly into your eyes, never breaking eye contact.

You took a deep breath.

“In one condition, we will not keep our relationship a secret. If we are truly to do this, we are not hiding from anybody. “ your voice started to tremble as you went on.

A soft understanding smile fell on Max’s face. He knew exactly how much you’d suffered from your previous relationship.

“ I want everyone to know that you’re mine and that they have no chance with you. You’re mine to keep. Schat”

Your face burned red. You didn’t think that Max calling you pet names would be that attractive. But you were so wrong.

You loved how Max said it, loving how he was solely looking at you as he uttered the endearment in his mother tongue.

“Well then, boyfriend. How about we talk about it with our boss? Hm,” You insisted, for your sanity’s sake. You hoped that Max understood your dilemma.

“Already did” Max grinned down at you. Your eyes grew wide. Max did what your ex couldn’t do in years. You were frozen in shock.

And he took the opportunity of your surprise as his hand found its way to yours, and he pulled you somewhere.

“I was interested in you for a while, but you were with Lewis. But when you broke up, I took my chances and I already notified Christian just in case.“ Max explained as he continued to gently guide you somewhere.

“Well I didn’t know that Max Verstappen had a crush on me” As you said those words, Max suddenly stopped causing you to hit his back.

Then he started to look at you with both astonishment and disbelief. And you find the expression cute on Max.

Suddenly, he took your face in his hands and squished your cheeks — shocking you in the process.

“Y/N L/N . I was flirting with you every chance I got. When you visited me at the clinic after my crash, I thought that I was hallucinating ” Max said seriously, his piercing blue eyes gazing into yours.

“You probably were hallucinating a tiny bit, that was a big crash” You added —Max recognized the guilt in your voice. You still blamed yourself a little bit for that.

“Y/N, Schat. That was not your fault. Please stop blaming yourself. Now come, We’re going to Newey, He wanted to talk to you” Max’s hand found its way to your lower back, guiding you towards the double doors that lead to a glass office.

You felt goosebumps travel up your arms. Max’s attention made you feel cared for and you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach.

“Wow…. Adrian Newey wants to talk to me. Wait, but how about Christian? He’s probably waiting in the lobby! “ you suddenly remembered that you were supposed to be waiting for your team principal in the lobby.

“I’ll let him know that you’re busy with Newey,” Max said as he kept nudging you into the office towards another door near the back.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, F1 drivers did tend to be spoiled. And Max wasn’t immune to that. Not when everyone at Red Bull loved their champion contender.

As Max opened the door, there sat Mr. Adrian Newey scribbling in his famous notebook.

You were dumbstruck, it was always a dream to work with the legend that is Adrian Newey.

Your fascination with developing and designing cars was one you held most deeply. However, even when you were a head race engineer during your time with Mercedes — your inputs were never taken seriously.

“ Newey! I’ve brought Y/N, as requested “ Max beamed as he was excited for you. He knew how much this meant.

Adrian looked up from his notebook — his eyes found Max and then it settled on you. You suddenly grew nervous and your palms started to sweat.

“Ms. Y/N! It is my pleasure to finally have you on board!” Newey smiled at you, as he offered his hand.

You quickly shook his hand, still amazed.

“It’s an honor to work with you, Sir! It’s my pleasure” you gushed like a fangirl. Max looked at you with fondness.

“Just call me Newey or Adrian, Ms. Y/N. “ He offered as he stood from his seat and went near you and Max.

“Only if you’d call me Y/N” you offered back with a huge smile still on your face

“Max, you may go. I only need Y/N here” Adrian waved his hand in a shooing manner towards the Dutch driver, who was now pouting.

“Fine, I’ll be back later. Bye, Adrian.” He said towards the developer.

“I’ll see you later Schat.” Max bid you farewell and left — but not without kissing your forehead.

“Well, Y/N I need your input towards the car I’m developing for next year. “ You suddenly grew giddy and excited as Adrian uttered those words

You were going to help in developing a car!

“ What do you say Y/N are you up for it? Will you help me with the RB18?“

“Let’s make a rocket ship, Adrian” You couldn't help but show your excitement as the smile on your face widened.

***

United States Grand Prix

It was finally qualifying. The paddock was bustling with people walking all over trying to find their seats and drivers talking to their engineers inside their garages.

It was officially your first time being Max’s head race engineer. And from the practice sessions yesterday, you were glad that everything went smoothly with Max.

You were confident in your paring as driver and engineer; he trusted in your decisions and you honored his every feedback. You two were like clockwork, everything fell into place.

And so you weren’t worried for Qualifying at all. You knew that Max was ready. You made sure of it.

You were already seated in the pit wall as Max was talking with Christian inside the garage.

When suddenly, you received a text. It was from Lewis. Your forehead scrunched as your eyes fell into the Mercedes Garage; Lewis was not inside.

After a few minutes of Contemplating, you decided to answer.

What the fuck was that??!! So many thoughts filled your mind. Was Lewis telling the truth? Was he lying Why did text he you now? Out of all times.

Was this a tactic to psych you out? To take you out of your focus and fuck with your reasoning. Was Lewis desperate enough to use such devices just to beat Max?

You knew that Mercedes was capable of using cheap shots to put themselves ahead and from what you’ve seen from Lewis recently… he was capable of the same.

You continued to stare at your text conversation. No , you won’t allow yourself to overthink. Not right now when so much was on the line.

You had to prove yourself to the world of motorsport that you were more than the Mercedes race engineer.

You won't allow them to fuck up your freedom, not again.

“Y/N? Are you ok?” You were cut from your thoughts by the radio message from Max. You didn’t realize that Q1 had already started and cars had started to come out of their garage.

“All good, thanks Max” You knew that it wasn’t the right time to tell Max. He needed to focus on— he needed to take pole.

And you will do everything in your power to lead him to that.

Mercedes and Lewis could wait in hell for all you’d care

“All right, Max. Just like we did in the simulation. You go first, then Checo will be right behind you”

“Copy, Y/N” Max was finally on his out lap.

“Radio check, Radio check. Final check”

“Loud and clear, dear” You didn’t expect Max to say that at all. Your face started heating up and your heart was beating way too fast and way too loud.

You knew that Max said that he wanted everyone to know but you weren’t expecting it so soon.

Trying to gain your professionalism back, you cleared your throat with a cough. You heard your team snickering from the sidelines — trying not to laugh at your flustered state.

“Funny Max, now back to focusing on the lap hmm?” You tried to play it cool.

“Will do, ms. L/N” The tone Max used was still playful.

In your other ear, you heard Crofty commentating.

“And that was Y/N L/N from the Red Bull pit wall, all friendly with Max Verstappen. It’s nice to finally have her back. It quite weird to see her in blue and red rather than silver, but everyone missed you Ms. L/N.”

Then suddenly Nico Rosberg had decided to join in with the slightly older commentator.

“She finally left her cage and Red Bull gave her wings! I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But it didn’t shock me that Y/N decided to explore more. From my time working with her, when she was my race engineer back in 2012– I was sure that she was up for greatness.

You were shocked by Nico’s statement. You were always led to think that your past with him had led him to hate you. So much ugliness had happened within Mercedes that you thought his opinion of you was bitter.

You two never had closure when he left the team so you assumed that he resented you like he did with Lewis.

And so you were more than shocked that he was praising you on live TV.

You shook your head and focused your mind on qualifying. It was your first race and it was time to earn your position at Red Bull.

“OK, Max. It’s time for a fast lap. Tyre temperature is at its optimal and there is no heavy traffic on track”

Max was a natural behind the wheel. It was as if the car was a part of him. He breezed past Q1 and Q2 perfectly, earning P2 and P1 respectively.

It was finally the last qualifying session.

“Max, how’s the car feeling?” You asked your boyfriend for feedback.

“The front could be sharper. And the rear needs to be tighter, I could feel the car snapping at turn 5” You checked your data sheet, and Max was right he was oversteering on turn 5

“Will look into it.” And with that, you and your team started to make some changes to the car, as per Max’s input.

“Abort the lap max, will do some changes to the car” you called on the radio. You knew that it was risky but you decided to gamble and do what your gut told you to do.

Your team fully believed in your call and supported your decisions till the end. Your adrenaline was pumping as Max pitted.

And without a hitch, Max was out again on an out lap.

It was almost near the Chequered flag when Max had finished his lap.

Your nerves were eating you alive and your foot hadn’t stopped tapping as Lewis crossed the line placing himself on top of the board.

You had faith in Max. You knew that he was going to earn back that pole.

Everything was down to this. One last push. Max was on his one last fast lap.

Your eyes glued on your screen, as the rest of Red Bull and the entire paddock held their breath.

Max had aced the first sector. Your heart started to pound once again, you could feel it in your throat.

The rain had started to pour in the pitlane, your nerves spiking. But you knew that your analysis was spot on — you didn’t have to worry about anything. Max was flying through the second sector.

One last sector. Your breath caught when he went wide but corrected instantly. You felt light drops of rain on your back but you did not care— as your eyes zeroed in on Max crossing the line.

Enormous cheers erupted as Max goes top of the board. He has won pole position over Lewis!

Claps and hugs were exchanged between your team. Wow, Max had won the pole position. In your first race as his engineer.

Holy shit. You excitedly radioed Max.

“That is P1 Max! Pole position. Congratulations!” You cheered for your boyfriend

“ Let’s go!! Thank you, everyone, for a mighty effort! Y/N! We make a good pair, don’t we” Max said as you saw him waving to the crowds from your screen. The double entendre not escaping you. You laughed along with your other engineers. Cheeky bugger.

The entirety of Red Bull knew of your situation with Max. How could they not? Max was like a puppy always following you in the building.

You watched as the two Red Bull drivers parked their cars in Parc Ferme in their corresponding places. You couldn’t help but fawn over the Dutch Driver as he stepped out of his car towards the interviewer. Max looked amazing in the spotlight.

The camera then zeroed in on David Coulthard and Max who was now holding a mic — a smile on his face as he went on with the post-quali interview.

“Congratulations on the pole position, Max! That’s your 7th one this season! How are you feeling?” David questioned Max.

“I feel great! Another lovely position for the team with me Checo in front of the grid. The team’s effort was extremely excellent today, I have no complaints. And we hope that we can turn this pole into a win tomorrow” Max answered like how he was trained to do. The PR team will be celebrating this as well.

“We’ve heard that you had a change of your head race engineer to Ms. Y/N L/N, how are you finding the shift?” David continued to gauge the Dutch driver

Everyone at Red Bull held their breath. It was decided that your relationship with Max albeit not kept secret to anybody — it would be best to keep it on the low. Until everything with your issue with Mercedes dies down.

Ironically, you agree with them. You didn’t want to drag Max’s name along with yours. You needed to set things straight with Mercedes first. Cut and burn bridges that didn’t do you any good.

You waited for Max to answer the question.

“Y/N has been an absolute delight. The learning curve and transition were seamless, She knows what I want in the car and she delivers.” Max answered with a smile.

“Well Max, congratulations again on the pole! Thank you so much and good luck tomorrow “

Then the camera zoned in on Lewis. He got P2 on the race and he seemed pissed, like anytime he’ll explode.

“Lewis, congratulations on P2! That’s the front row for you! You were two-hundredths of a second behind Max. How was the car for you?”

Lewis’ composure was dissolving by the minute as he tried to answer.

“ I had issues on the last sector, the car was a little too sharp for my liking. But we will utilize what we have” He gruffly answered.

“ I assumed that your change of race engineer hadn’t been as smooth as you expected. How is it working with Bonno instead of Y/N?”

Lewis’ jaw tightened as his hand flexed over the mic that he was holding. People had started to murmur and suddenly the camera panned on Toto then it was suddenly in you.

You were shocked, but you didn’t let anyone see. You looked directly into the camera tauntingly and smiled — innocently waving your hand. Dressed proudly in your Red Bull uniform and your headset lazily hanging around your neck.

“Bonno had been great. He just right for my style of driving.” Lewis plastered a smile. You saw right through Lewis’s lie. No one could fully understand Lewis driving other than you.

You couldn’t help but smirk and you looked back at the data sheet on your screen.

Mercedes didn’t know what’s coming to them.

***

“Why do you suddenly need the medical records , Lewis? You and the other drivers did something stupid. You got high It’s best to keep that buried” Lewis was inside the Mercedes clinic talking to the resident doctor.

He couldn’t seem to push it aside. Everything seemed weird. He was so sure that he just drank and he didn’t participate in anything like drugs.

“You don’t understand, James. Someone framed me and slipped something in my drink”

James , looked at Lewis in both shock and confusion.

“ Are you sure? Lewis this is a serious accusation. We might need to bring this up to the FIA” Lewis only nodded

“I’ll contact the Doctors from the other teams. I’ll report back to you. But when I do find something,..I need to tell Toto. “

“Fine”

Anyone interested to be added to the taglist? Drop a comment or DM me!

Taglist : @vicurious28 @xoscar03 @barnestatic @stelena-klayley @sopheeg @imagandom @4-20-21-12 @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @minkyungseokie @d3kstar @kimialaia @cosmicwintr @younxii @ssrcsm @paigem00 @seokjinkismet @wcnorris @jayjay11122 @embersparklz @sam-is-lost @peterholland04 @luckyladycreator2 @lovemesomeescapism @yettobedetermined7 @nikfigueiredo @ironmaiden1313 @alliwantisadonut @uuoozzii @marshmummy @kemillyfreitas @yaesflorist @zoeyjadetice2010 @splaterparty0-0 @likedbygaslyy @myinternettlifeimagine @ilamara @pluviophilefangirl @starssfall @haydensith @adoreleeknw @leilanixx @dr4g0ngirl @forfeityourbugs @choisannyreads @justtprachisblog @felicityforyou @jehun

147 notes · View notes

controld3vil · 2 days

Text

chaotic duo

pairing(s): dune cast x actor!reader (platonic), oscar isaac x actor!reader

synopsis: requested by this ask!

⤷ alt: even your on-screen son can't deny how delightful his on-screen parents were.

notes: absolutely no shade to jessica ferguson i adore her too much. reader is considered to have fem pronouns. ALSO ive been feeling iffy about trying to write for dune characters?? personally, although i love writing these actor!reader stories, writing for the actual characters i feel would be more challenging. dune's still pretty new to me but i kinda wanna give it a shot if i can make a good storyline T-T

It all started with the Dune Cast Q&A brought together by Nerdist. Timothee Chalamet and Denis Villeneuve had just finished chatting with the host, Stephen Colbert about their perspectives on Paul's character. Much emphasis had gone on the young actor's performance. And Denis's decision to cast such a well-experienced one.

After finishing up their last question together, Stephen decides to introduce two additional members. "Timothee let's bring out the man and the woman who play your parents, Duke Leto Atreides and Lady Jessica." A transition between screens to display your camera view and Oscar's. He introduces both your names.

"Hi!" You grin at the camera, comfortably leaning against one of the arms of your chair. Similar to everyone else's backdrop, yours was pitch gray, covering all but your silhouette and chair.

"Hey Stephen," Oscar greets at ease, as you proceed to wave to each of the people seen onscreen.

It cuts immediately to the host gesturing in continuation for a question. "Tell me and the audience about Duke Leto Atreides. What do we need to know?"

"He's the father and human. I think that's the biggest thing and uh under incredible pressure to save his family. Save his house but to adapt to this new existential threat situation which is moving to this strange planet," Your fellow costar puts into short. Short and concise was what was expected.

Content with his answer, Stephen moves the attention to you. He calls out your name, eagerly. "Rereading the books uh- right now, I am struck by how much of the story- uh the backstory and the action story is driven by the decisions Lady Jessica makes." A smile grows on your face, knowing how much fun was a character to play for you.

Along his last few words, you find yourself nodding in agreement. "I'm impressed with that you, Stephen actually read the books again!" An instant grin comes from the said man. "But it's all applause to Denny- he highlighted this from the book. In the film, her decisions basically create, fractures and disrupts everything."

"Best parents ever," In a low whisper, Timothee murmurs and the five of you burst into short chuckles and snickers.

"The best you could ever have!" You clapped your hands together, shaking them above your head in victory. And when the screen expands to show everyone's reactions, the audience can noticeably pinpoint Oscar's playful eye-rolling.

Another fun interview you had the pleasure of sharing was with Grazia UK. It was in a more comfortable setting. With you and Oscar in a lounge room, with the Zoom camera on. While the female interviewer complimenting a kind smile.

"Can I ask you something," Not within a second of the conversation, you rose up with a peculiar question. "Do you remember his beard?" Your costar beside you, looks away in disappointment. Even raising his hand to emphasize his discouraged state.

"A bit yes..."

"Yeah,"

"Yes!"

"Why? It was an impressive beard," Sort of clueless really, the interviewer says, of why you wanted to the topic up.

"Yeah, it was impressive!" Oscar looks back and forth between you and the camera, directing towards the woman on the other side. While you shriveled in embarrassment, leaning your head behind his shoulder, with a few snorts of laughter. "She doesn't even remember if I had a beard or not in the movie! She just saw it."

"Quite a prominent beard!"

"Yes yes, well I can remember so much," You chaste, leaning closer, locking eyes with your costar. Threatening really in a playful way.

"We shot together for a few months! How could you not remember?!" He exclaims, raising both his hands in the air in exasperation. You puff, adorning a pouty-like look.

"I work with what's in front of me," you turn to address the interviewer, pointing at Oscar accusingly. Because much contrast to what he looked months ago, he no longer had that impressive beard. He was clean-shaven, much to your display.

Next to you, Oscar scoffs. "Apparently not!" Bumping shoulders with you as you fought back, poking him many times obnoxiously.

You both later discussed a provoking quote referenced multiple times from Dune posters. Fear is the mind killer. Truly a simple yet intriguing phrase that fitted well with the film. And in generally, you and Oscar compared each others quotes from personal experience.

"I guess you could combine them together," Taking a sip out of your glass, you eyed at Oscar. He hums back and smooths his hands comfortably down his hips.

"It will pass and love prevails!" He cheerfully expresses. Even from afar, the interviewer can notice how much fun you two were having with the question.

"Right and, it plays perfectly with the film," You add onto your little spiel, nodding as you go, "Besides the fact that- you know, fear is the mind killer."

The male actor lets out a long sigh. "Makes you forget how violent the movie is."

On the other side of the screen, the blonde interviewer shrugs her shoulders. "Well- it's only included in small parts in the movie."

It was your turn to hum, dragging out the M sound. "I think maybe the film focusses too much on romance."

A caught off cough comes from Oscar as he tries to his best to dismiss his your sarcastic comment. "I feel like there should've been more of it."

"Really?!" The shot pans to your exaggerated shocked gaze. You then turn to look at the interviewer. "He has no idea how to write a movie." Instantaneously the male actor bursts out laughing, shaking his head back and forth in little denial. Even you couldn't hold it together and giggled a little.

"You play Timothee's parents so spent a lot of time with him. What is the most interesting thing we do not about Timothee Chalamet?" The interviewer prompts, having their arms supported on top the their desk with pure keenness.

Pursing your lips together in concentration, your attention turns towards your partner. "Well coming from me- I mean I don't know if people know this about him or not- but he's very open hearted." Oscar continues, "And me, having to play his father- hence the beard!"

"Ah!" Giving more emphasis, you raised your brow in recollection.

He goes on comparing the analogy of having to play Duke Leto as a powerful leader of a House. Without his people and court, he wouldn't resemble much of an prestige leader. However Oscar later mentions that Timothee's performance was the catalyst to their relationship look authentic. He is young yet incredibly sympathetic towards what's to be done for the film. His time with both of you really sold your relationship as a family, you'd think.

"So that's a very generous thing to do for a young actor. And I was impressed and admired that," In the background, you can be heard mumbling in agreement. Your partner shifts his posture, facing and expecting you to go next.

Licking your lips, you took one last glance at him before focusing strictly at the Zoom camera. "I think for me, to have a young actor like him- he's very driven about it all. When he's on and off screen, Timothee's just focused- he's very serious and concentrates heavily on what Denny says- and I can say I respect that." You punctuate your point, tapping lightly on your knee. "And I play his mother you know, and I try to accommodate with that. I play along and we work until we find a good rhythm with each other." The older woman on the screen seemed enamored by your compliments regarding your costar. Yet her eyes quickly makes it's way to Oscar, sitting quietly and listening to you ramble.

His laidback posture showed how greatly he took your words in. You grab your glass and take a quick sip before hearing him say, "We raised him well." Taking your hand in both of his as a sign of pride.

A delightful chuckle comes from both you and the interviewer while your partner gives a satisfied grin. "We really did!"

The media did not need proof to know of your enjoyed time during the production of Dune. In fact, multiple vlogs and documentaries about the film had fans and viewers alike become fond of your positive and laid back attitude about it all. Despite playing a calculating character such as Lady Jessica, you were nothing of serious when on screen with your costars.

"Welcome to Arrakis!" You popped into frame, wearing an exquisite dress, costumed by one of the designers. It was golden yellow with chains running down from the bottom half of your face to your chest. A faint veil covered your head but for right now, you had it placed on your hair. You spread your arms with anticipation for the cameraman to pan around your surroundings. "It's sunny today so I think we'd be out here for some time." You moved extremely close to the camera, before moving out of the frame to the side.

Abu Dhabi was bliss. The production and crew worked diligently day and night working in the deserts. And on this particular day, most of the cast had been present as well for the introduction of House Atriedes on Arrakis.

A few shots slowly pans from the crew's tents and Denny far into the sandy mountains as he speaks with Timothee. Another shot slyly captures you showing Josh Brolin an unknown video, sideways. Which somehow made him cackle very enthusiastically, holding his stomach to air as you quickly pat his back multiple of times. In all, everyone of the cast members were having a blast in the dry outskirts of the unknown.

"Hello," Brolin pops in another clip where he stands, wearing the Atreides armor. Under a massive shade area, a few people can be spotted in the background, moving equipment and conversing with others. From afar, the people filming the documentary can be heard presenting a few questions for him to touch upon. "Ah what do I think about Lady Jessica being played by," He says your name sincerely.

The video cuts to you having a conversation with your on and screen husband. A hand covering above your face to shield yourself from the sun, while Oscar tries to move where the light is hitting you as the best he could.

"I mean a phenomenal actor like her playing in that kind of role is guaranteed to have an amazing performance. She's- We've known each for a long time since Sicario and with Denny," The male actor softly grins, staring at where you were. "But Oscar on the other hand, eh- not so much." His tone becoming monotonous, as if the shift in topic was distasteful to the touch.

"Whatcha say, Gurney?!" A scream echoes and it's Oscar, cupping both his hands into an O.

The older actor couldn't keep it together before breaking into frivolous giggles. "Nothing, my lord!" He takes one last glance back before seeing you give him two big thumbs up with a silly smirk. "No in all seriousness, those two are just the best! You can never have a bad day with them."

Another prominent section in the video fans adored was with the actors that played Duncan Idaho and Dr. Liet Kynes. This time they are situated in what looked like the structure of Arrakeen. Where all ornithopters were supposedly stationed and the introduction of Dr. Kynes.

"They're so mom and dad," Jason Momoa shaking his head playfully with his hands clamped together. Both him and Sharon Duncan-Brewster wore still suits unlike many other extras who wore Atreides armor. "I mean- they're playing Paul's parents- but in real life it's just so different."

"Definitely more chaotic," Brewster jumps in, earning a hum from her costar. "They act nothing like them."

A cool shot from different location displays you in a dark with Timothee. It was the scene after Paul is put to test to by the Reverent Mother. It was a chilling scene yes, but in post production, many realize how unprofessional you sometimes were even in the most serious times.

The cameras were not live however the film crew were about to pan to you gesturing back and forth with your on-screen son. It was a interactive and intriguing conversation you both were having. You looking in purely engaged with what the French actor was saying. After a few sentences being spoken, it looked as though you chided a teasing joke which gave the reaction of Timothee slightly snickering, backing away slowly.

"I mean do they look like my parents? No," The young actor states shortly. It looked as though the clip was shot right after capturing your cute moment togehter. "But I'd say- yeah Oscar Isaac's a great actor and- to be able to play my dad is pretty cool. Even though we look nothing alike." Nervous laughter spouts as he clears his throat.

"I feel like I get the resemblances from my mom though," Affectionately stating your name, "You can tell where I got my powers, good looks from." Momentarily readjusting his collar as he takes a quick look from behind, knowing your footsteps.

"See? I'm the favorite parent!" In hushed squeal, you wrapped your hands around Timothee's shoulders, earning a lovable grin back.

111 notes · View notes

bby-deerling · 14 hours

Note

HIIIII!!!! As you know, ILYSMMM and I stg you are my ABSOLUTE FAVE ON HERE ❤️

I was hoping for Zoro, Law, Ace, Shanks, and Mihawk... with a reader who is just going through it, like straight up not having a good time. They are really down on themselves and are almost at their breaking point.

(It's me. I'm a reader, and this is a straight up self indulgent ask)

(Sfw/NSFW dealers choice)

(Also, if you are not comfortable writing this, a) I am so sorry, b) please do not feel like you even have to respond to this, and c) DONT HATE ME IM SO SORRY)

aww ilysm and i'm so sorry to hear that you're going through it, i'm sending you so much love </3! i could never ever hate you, i always look forward to all the little messages and comments you leave on my fics <3

i've written something similar before for how zoro + law (plus a bunch of other characters) would comfort you when you're feeling down, but here are some additional quick thoughts about ace, shanks, and mihawk <3

ace knows just how warm and loving his hugs are, and as someone who frequently needs words of reassurance himself, but is too prideful to outright ask for them, he knows exactly what you need to hear in order to calm down a bit. he's also good at shifting perspectives, and helps minimize your worries that seemingly feel like the end of the world.

when your sunny disposition fades, shanks notices your shift in mood immediately and tries to fix that with some good old-fashioned revelry. laughter and good times with good people is the best distraction from a crisis, and he hopes that showing you just how much he (and the rest of the crew) love you and enjoy spending time with you will help to you cheer up.

when mihawk notices that you've been isolating yourself, he can't help but pry and ask what's wrong. he's a quiet listener, and provides you with the basics to help keep yourself running; he takes over laundry, cooking, and other chores for the time being, to make sure you have as little burdens as possible weighing on you while you go through this rough patch.

#one piece x reader #shanks x reader #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #one piece drabble

103 notes · View notes

ziorite · 1 day

Text

i feel like people are way too hyperfocused on buddie and buddie alone when abc making buck bi at all is already such a win. i’ve seen a frankly alarming amount of social media comments acting as if abc has committed some horrible treason by not canonizing buddie as soon as possible. no matter how you think endgame is going to go, i think we can agree that tommy’s been a good influence on buck in this time of vulnerability. it’s only been two episodes and he’s already shaping up to be THE best love interest buck has ever had— maybe even the best one on the entire show that wasn’t already a fully fleshed character/part of an established relationship. ali, taylor, ana, marisol, natalia, they all feel very superficial and temporary in a way that tommy doesn’t and for one, im super fucking excited to see where they take the relationship.

i’ve visualized the healthiest attitude for everyone’s viewing pleasure here :))

#911 #911 abc #911 show #buck buckley #evan buck buckley #evan buckley #eddie diaz #edmundo diaz #edmundo eddie diaz #tommy kinard #buddie #tevan #bucktommy #bi buck #bisexual evan buckley

98 notes · View notes

anti-katsuki-lounge · 3 days

Text

Character Flaws vs Writing Flaws:

While catching up on some of the stuff people have commented/sent to me, I noticed someone mention how Katsuki being a bully is a flaw of his and that not every character needs to be a good person.

First of all, when did I ever say that a character has to be morally correct to be a good character? Some of my favorite characters are villains who’ve done worse things than Katsuki.

So what’s the difference between them and Katsuki?

Well, the villains have a reason for existing. Joker is meant to serve as a parallel to Batman, challenging his morals while also showing what an unhinged Batman could look like.

On a much lesser scale, despite his extremely limited screen time, Moonfish’s bloodlust, lack of sanity, and cannibalism serve two purposes in MHA: to showcase Fumikage’s power and to give the readers an example of what the heroes of this world have to deal with.

Katsuki’s flaws are meant to show the flaws of a world that values raw power over morals, but he fails at this. The reason why? His flaws are never allowed to be flaws.

Katsuki’s aggressive and hostile nature should have him struggling to make friends, yet he has the two pillars of 1-A, that being Ejiro and Denkias described by Hori, immediately befriend him with no issues. His inability to empathize with others should have people wanting to steer away from him, but his instead 1-A loves him, Eri loves him despite being the last person who would, and anyone who doesn’t love him is seen as being in the wrong.

Katsuki is meant to be a big fish in a little pond, someone whose ego isn’t challenged until a certain point, and the Battle Trials were meant to show this. While yes, Katsuki has a mini-breakdown over the fact that he’s no longer in a class of people with weaker quirks, he has no issue claiming a spot as a Top Dog and he still continues to demean the people around him.

Katsuki’s aggressiveness is meant to be both a flaw and an asset. His aggressive nature is what motivates him to defeat the villain, but it’s supposed to cause him to have a one track mind when it comes to hero work. Rescue, teamwork, all of that is ignored by him to fight the big bad. His ego caused everyone to have a tougher time during the USJ, but is that ever touched upon? Nope. It’s just ignored. When Katsuki saved Kyouka, there was no buildup to it. It just happens. We never see him struggle with teamwork because everyone else follows him like a lost puppy.

Meanwhile, Izuku is meant to be Katsuki’s parallel in this department. He’s meant to showcase why too much selflessness isn’t good while also showing that a hero is more than just their raw power. Problem is, Izuku gets completely shat on no matter what he does. He goes after a villain to protect U.A? Gets criticized. Does his best to work with Katsuki? Gets blamed despite it solely being an issue on Katsuki’s end. Does everything perfectly? Nope, still not enough. Compared to Izuku, who always seems to be in the wrong, Katsuki’s placed as this paragon of heroic virtues despite the fact both characters are supposed to be two halves of a whole. They’re supposed to learn from one another. Problem is, Katsuki’s flaws are always ignored while Izuku’s positive traits are demeaned.

Finally, Katsuki being a bully is supposed to serve as a starting point for his character. He’s meant to grow and develop as a human being. Again, he doesn’t, or at least he doesn’t do so in an organic way. He never suffers consequences for his behavior, he’s constantly propped up and coddled instead of criticized, and he’s given some heroic moments despite there being no buildup to them. In the span of a month he goes from nearly killing Izuku to risking his life for him. Where the hell did that come from? Honestly, I wouldn’t care if Katsuki being a bully is his sole purpose for existing, but he’s meant to be more than that. This is supposed to be a well developed and fully fleshed out character who grows from his selfishness and is meant to show that anyone can be a hero, no matter their starting point. But when the development is crap and he hardly changes outside of some OOC moments, then his flaws cease to be flaws that he’s meant to overcome. Instead MHA treats it as him being quirky and misunderstood.

In conclusion, you just can’t present something as a character flaw and expect it to serve as an excuse as to why a character exhibits said flaw. You have to think of the following: what purpose does this flaw serve? Is it meant to be used to teach a lesson? Does it set something in motion, whether it be the development of this character, another character, or does the flaw cause the character’s downfall? The only thing Katsuki’s flaws does right is that they set up Izuku’s story, which again would be fine if that’s Katsuki’s purpose, but it’s not. Him being a bully isn’t something that he overcomes in a natural way. His redemption story is the equivalent of filling things out of a checklist without being fleshed out. Every time he screws up, it’s never treated as a screw-up. Oh he failed the hero license exam? Well so did Shoto so he’s not unique there, and the proctors still suck his dick even while he’s “failing”. Him being the reason for 13’s injuries? Never brought up.

Katsuki’s flaws don’t piss me off because they are flaws, but because the writing of his character IS so deeply flawed despite being a centralized character in the story.

Oh, and as always, someone can dislike a character for whatever reason they might have. If people don’t like Katsuki because he’s a bully, then they have every right to. What I wrote is a response as to why I think Katsuki’s a shit character and how it’s not because of his flaws themselves, but how Hori goes about writing these flaws.

#anti katsuki bakugou #anti bakugo katsuki #anti bakugo #anti bakugou #mha critical #anti bakugou katsuki #bnha critical

95 notes · View notes

closetsof-backlogged-dreams · 1 day

Note

okay so I’ve seen and loved a bunch of these posts already but everything u say is immediately correct and amazing and sending u asks is the best

opinions on why zukka works and makes sense as a ship and if you think it could work in canon (outside of fanon)?

I CANT BELIEVE YOU JUST MADE MY ENTIRE LIFE COMPLETE AND FULL BY ASKING ME THIS QUESTIONNNN (strap in folks hold on to your hats keep a good hold on your bladders bc this is 10+ years worth of BUSINESS)

Why "Zukka" works and makes sense as a ship

something i've discussed THROUGHLY with my notes app and a school slides presentation is that Zuko and Sokka are both direct parallels AND contrasts to one another, at the same time. i'll list them out here:

Their fathers' roles in their lives

Both Hakoda and Ozai were the leaders of their respective nations, with Sokka and Zuko as the heirs. Then, they both become absent in their sons' lives and leave them to fend for themselves.

This is a parallel, but this is also where they contrast. Sokka's father left to go fight in the war, a noble and honest pursuit, and left Sokka to protect his sister and the village.

Ozai, on the other hand, cast Zuko out of the nation and forced him to protect and defend himself, while effectively turning all their people and his own sister against him.

Their sisters' roles in their lives

Despite both of them being the oldest sibling and brother, they both have severe inferiority complexes due to their younger, powerful bending sisters.

With Katara, she was the only waterbender in the entire tribe, a marvel. She could learn to protect the tribe in a way that Sokka had been trying all his life, and she eventually does. Despite all this, Katara is still a grounding and valued person in his life, and he would be completely lost without her (something he openly admits to in canon!!)

With Azula, she was a prodigy firebender, while also being a special kind of keen and cunning. She was adored by their father and grandfather and Zuko could never quite measure up. Because of this, Azula is the main villain in Zuko's childhood. She does everything she can to break him down, and that continues when she returns as a character in his life in season two. All throughout the show, instead of being a source of comfort and familial love, she is his main obstacle he must overcome.

The loss of their mothers

Both Sokka and Zuko lost their mothers at very young ages to the Fire Nation, but they had vastly different impacts on their families (and further developed their sisters' roles in their lives!!)

When Sokka's mother died, she was killed by a Fire Nation general. Katara quickly took over the motherly role in his life, cementing her place as a grounding and comforting force. Her death also did not break their family. It deeply hurt all of them, but Katara, Sokka, and Hakoda still loved one another just as much as before.

When Zuko's mother died (obviously not really, but this is what he believes for many years), she was "killed" in order for his father to ascend to the throne and become Fire Lord. This left Zuko without anyone to protect him from Azula's tormenting and cemented her place as a destructive, villainous person in his life. Ursa's death also did destroy their family. Whatever way she had managed to keep them all together was eradicated, and Zuko was left with a sister and father that resented him and a sister fighting for his place in the line of succession.

Their obessesions

Both Sokka and Zuko had two bone-deep obsessions that were very defining parts of their characters in the first season, that slowly wavered and faded away as the story progressed and they developed as people. They were both given these obsessions by their fathers immediately before they became absent in their lives (whether leaving themself or sending their son away) and proceeded to dedicate their entire life to these goals in the name of honor.

With Sokka, his father asked him to protect his sister and his village. Sokka then dedicates all his time and energy to becoming a brave soldier and training the children of the village in order to protect his people. This is seen further in season one even after they leave, when he is overly protective of Katara and constantly worried for her safety (something this fandom doesn't talk about enough!!)

With Zuko, his father sent him on a wild goose-chase to find the hundred-years-lost Avatar, and when he actually does, all he can do is chase after Aang so he can go back home. As we see in season three, letting go of capturing the Avatar was essentially letting go of his former self.

Unlearning their flawed cultures (the big one!!!!)

Both of their cultures had many flaws that became ingrained in their belief systems and characters; their whole development is dedicated to unlearning these flawed teachings and reorienting their perception of the world.

It is very obvious throughout the shows that the Water Tribe had strict gender roles that were both implicitly and explicitly taught from birth. The men go off to fight in the war, the women take care of the children, Sokka has to protect his "defenseless" little sister, etc. Suki helped start him on the journey of unlearning his deeply-rooted misogyny, and by the end of the series he's really drinking the Respect Women Juice™️ (unlearning the flaws of his culture also brought him much closer to his sister and strengthened their bond and respect for one another)

The Fire Nation is a lot more complicated with a lot more cultural nuances and implicit and explicit teachings, but we'll focus on one central cultural theme: the constant prioritization of ambition over absolutely everything else, including (if not especially) love. (I actually talk about this extensively in another analysis post about Azula, if you want to check that out<3) We see Zuko battle with this teaching all throughout the series, and it is the main conflict he faces, at its heart.

We watch him commit his entire life to capturing the Avatar in season one. We watch him betray his uncle in season two. We watch him, time and time again, put his own health and safety on the line trying to capture Aang, especially in season one. Constantly, over and over again, he puts his ambition first because that was what he was taught.

And though this is a trait him and Azula share, it is also what pits them against each other. Azula's entire character is built on putting ambition first, and that leads her to chasing the throne that is Zuko's birthright. Zuko just wants to go home, but that would reestablish him as the heir to the throne. Time and time again, we watch them fight and betray each other, constantly battling for this crown for a broken nation. In the end, it is Azula's undoing, but that's another post.

All in all, unlearning the flaws of their culture is central to their development as characters and a place where they parallel... but it is also a place where they directly (and perfectly) contrast.

Despite the cruelty of the Fire Nation, they are the only military that includes women. They seem to not really struggle with the same gender roles the rest of the world does. They may be colonizers, but they're not misogynists. Zuko never looked down on his sister because she was a woman, nor did her father. It was always her propensity for cruelty that undid her. (They even send a team of highly skilled women to capture the Avatar!!)

This is a direct contrast to the teachings of the Water Tribe, which are entrenched in misogyny and gender roles. The men go off to war, the women stay behind. The men are strong, the women are weak. Can you imagine how much Zuko could have assisted Sokka in his development here? (blah blah directly paralleling Suki's role in Sokka's life blah blah blah)

In the Water Tribe, love and family comes before everything. We see that time and time again. Sokka's main priority, every time, is his sister and his tribe. They stick together. They love one another. They are united, with one person leading them as a group but not standing over them like a tyrant. "Ambition" seems like a mostly unheard of concept in their nation. The only ambition we ever really see from Sokka is when he's trying to protect his tribe (season one finale)!!

Can you imagine how much Sokka could have helped Zuko unlearn his constant prioritization of ambition?? Like, come on. All the things Zuko was left to stew with and angst over all on his own Sokka could have gently taken into his own hands and shown him the way. Like, it actually makes me go feral just thinking about it. Sokka could have helped Zuko so much!! (pushing the Ba Sing Se Zukka AU rn)

Consensus

Okay, let's recap. It looks like Zuko and Sokka are both direct parallels and contrasts, paralleling in the ways that allow them to understand each other but contrasting in the ways that help them heal one another. Like, it's actually insane. I really don't know if it was intentional or not but it's really just so perfect. They slot together perfectly as characters. I hope this all made sense😭😭

Could "Zukka" work in canon?

Now, this is tricky. Believe it or not I'm actually really glad they didn't make Zukka canon. ATLA had a huge problem with writing good romance, and in the canon we saw in the show, neither Sokka or Zuko were in a place to get together.

I've enjoyed my fair share of Zukka AUs where they get together before the end of the war, but you and I both know that would have been a hot mess. (Both of them just weren't ready, they were both in relationships, and sorry but they were kinda busy—Katara was right about the whole "there are other things to worry about.") If they were ever to get together in canon, it would have to be years after the war ended.

Let's address a few things that needed to happen before they could ever have gotten together:

Finally admitting that Maiko was just an extreme example of comphet

Zuko did not give a single shit about that girl. Like. He didn't even personally go get her out of prison WHEN SHE WAS LITERALLY ARRESTED FOR PROTECTING HIM😭😭 And then they try to play off their story as some big epic romance?? uhhhh no

(really, Mai was in long-time unrequited love with Ty Lee that was finally requited after Boiling Rock but idk if society is ready for that yet)

Not to mention, Azula literally forced both of them into that relationship, but if I get started with that I'll never stop so. Moving on.

Figuring out Sokka and Suki

Okay, so while there is a good chance that Sokka and Suki could have made it work in canon, there is also a good chance they would have broken up. They both had very different priorities: while they both did care about overall world peace, it was obvious from Suki's first introduction that her Kyoshi Warriors were her top priority every time, and Sokka's was his tribe, his found family (Aang, Katara, Toph, Zuko, yk yk), and world peace at large. You're telling me those don't conflict? Especially because they really seem like a Piper/Jason situation, where they found comfort and love in each other during wartime but wouldn't have known how to keep up the relationship without the constant threat of death.

Overall, in order for Zukka to work, Sokka and Suki would have had to break up, which would not have been difficult to arrange.

Sokka needed to go home and begin rebuilding the Water Tribe

No matter how much I adore fics where Sokka stays behind in the Fire Nation and helps Zuko rebuild, it just wouldn't work. Sokka's obvious priority had always been his tribe. The second the war was over (ignoring the comics bc that's a can of complicated worms i don't want to get into), he would've gone back with Katara to work on rebuilding their destroyed tribe. Only once the Southern Tribe could stand steadily on its own two legs could he have even considered leaving.

Anyways, that's really it. In order for Zukka to work, three plot points would have to be resolved: Maiko, Sukka, and the reparation of the Southern Water Tribe. Extremely doable, imo.

Personality-wise and just as characters, would it have worked?

I really think it would have! Like I said before, Sokka and Zuko are two characters that perfectly parallel and contrast at all the exactly right points to make them slot together flawlessly as a pair. (Whether that's romantic or not—doesn't matter.) Really, I genuinely think they are a real missed opportunity. I have genuinely never seen two characters that seem so different that actually work that well together, or even just characters that work that well together at all.

Like, I really mean it, they are perfect matches. It's genuinely scary. Like it or not, no one will ever be able to replicate the perfection of what Zukka could have been.

Anyone that says that it's "random" or "doesn't work" obviously hasn't been watching the same show or simply just hasn't been paying attention. People might ship it just because it's opposites attract or red and blue or even just the most accessible MLM ship in the fandom, but they really are perfect for each other.

alright, I think that's it! sorry for this monster of a post😭😭 genuinely did NOT expect that to happen. PLS SEND ME ANY ASKS YOU CAN THINK OF ABOUT THESE TWO!! i have spent a concerning amount of time thinking about them and these show has analysis potential for days, so. (and who knows, maybe i'll finally post the like three unfinished fics i have for them💀💀 god knows i should)

thanks for the ask, and have a great day <3

#atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #zukka #atla meta #atla ana #atla analysis #zukka nation #atla zukka #sokka x zuko #zuko #sokka #atla sokka #atla zuko

100 notes · View notes

echos-gal · 17 hours

Text

ok i'm rapidly losing hope that Tech is still alive, and this sucks because it was basically the top thing i desperately wanted from this season. i wanted to see him survive. so here's my exhaustive and embarrassingly long list of reasons why he SHOULD still be alive, and if he isn't, why it was a missed opportunity. obviously no hate to the writers or anything, i love them dearly for creating this show!!!

(if you're a "Tech should stay dead for the stakes/so someone in SW stays dead for once/i hate delusional Tech stans" person, kindly keep scrolling, this ain't for you)

SEASON 2:

right from the start, Romar connects with Tech and calls himself "a survivor." HELLO???

in this same arc, Tech breaks his leg in a fall which he survives. he continues to walk on it, fighting off troopers to save Echo & Omega, showcasing his persistence and grit.

one of Phee's first lines is "better late than dead," and we know she shares a connection with Tech. she flirts with him later in this scene. it would be a shame not to reuse this line, i'm just saying....

Cid still owes Tech for racing for her in Faster. we see Cid looking miserable as she betrays the batch in Plan 99, so her playing a part in his rescue/comeback would be a nice way to show her growth. (i'm afraid there isn't enough time for this, though- as much as i thought a Cid redemption was on the horizon!)

Phee and Tech's departure is awkward, and although we have some context from season 3 (they talked more than we realized), the scene would do best if reconciled in person imo. it felt like it was setting up for something, and feels weird to leave hanging.

"don't go running off with any pirates or smugglers" could not have just been a throw away line. it set up for him to do exactly that. how fitting would it be if pirates or smugglers actually did manage to pick him up before the empire made it to the railcar crash site?

Hemlock's retrieval of the goggles shows that he sent a team to look through the wreckage. he thought there was a chance Tech survived, and may have him.

i won't go into the logistics, but big falls ARE survivable. in star wars especially. we have no idea what was below the layer of clouds/mist Tech fell through.

SEASON 3:

this is mostly CX-2 centric. their armor is very similar: the jaw/mouth shape, the hexagons over the ears, the rectangles on the chest, and the pouches/pockets.

"domicile." that is all.

CX-2 uses technology more than the other operatives we've seen, and he gets past the encryption on Phee's ship with ease.

"who are you?" was enunciated in the exact same way Tech says it to Trace and Rafa, which i definitely think was intentional.

CX-2 stops to use his rifle scope in the exact same spot where Tech and Phee stood to let down the ladders in the sea surge on Pabu.

he survives a waterfall plunge on Teth, which appears to have fooled Rex's group into thinking he'd died. the writers could have killed him off there and sent a new operative, but they chose to stick with CX-2 pursuing them to Pabu.

it's worth noting that while this CX is designated as "2," Tech's CT number is CT-9902. he is associated with the number even on a visual level: he's a dual-wielder, he wears goggles, he salutes with two fingers.

FROM A STORY PERSPECTIVE:

firstly, i am sorry and i LOVE the writers, but if you want people to accept a character's death, you've got to show his family and friends' grief. we saw no reaction from Crosshair or Phee, no tears from Hunter or Echo. it feels like fans were sadder about Tech's death than the characters in the story.

Tech seems to have been mentioned more in the second half of season 3 than the first half, which works if they want to bring him back in the finale.

the finale is called "The Cavalry Has Arrived." i really don't think you can have the cavalry (aka the bad batch) arrive without every member present. i also don't think it would feel right to play their theme without Tech there. idk, that feels incomplete!

we saw no body, and Hunter received Tech's goggles not from a trusted ally or friend, but from Hemlock. this calls into question the legitimacy of his claim that the goggles were "all he could salvage."

Tech alive and being held on Tantiss would provide a nice parallel to Echo in the first mission where we meet the batch, in TCW. and [ep 14 SPOILERS] we see that Echo is currently looking more like his TCW self, with his earpiece removed.

feels kinda sour that a character who a lot of people related to as neurodivergent representation would die just a few episodes after having a deep conversation with his sister about it.

likewise (and as a white woman i can't speak for WOC), from what i have seen, Black women are rarely the main love interest of a series! Phee is the ONLY love interest in this whole show, and it would suck to just cut off that romance before it could really become something. a lot of people wanted to see TechPhee become canon.

CX-2 is the one who destroys the marauder. it works well storywise for its pilot to have been the one to do that- the person who worked so hard modifying it, flying it, and teaching his sister to fly it. i'll be lowkey pissed if it turns out some random dude blew it up.

it's also CX-2 who invades and sets fire to Pabu. this is emotionally gripping on its own, but if he is Tech, it's even more so.

we have no idea what the operatives go through. Crosshair isn't telling, but it clearly put him in a really bad place. if Tech underwent this conditioning in his post-fall injured state, there's a chance he could come back from it. Emerie is probably the key to this, if they take the CX-2 route.

this show is all about a family trying to stay together as the Empire desperately tries to rip them apart. seeing the whole family together again - even if not everyone survives - in the finale is the satisfaction that the show ideally would go for. the last time they were all together was the season 1 finale. that was about 2 years ago in the show's timeline.

leaving Crosshair and Tech's final interactions be where they parted on the Kamino platform also feels off. Tech was the one who really vocalized the need to rescue Crosshair in season 2's finale. Crosshair, in the meantime, has changed significantly as a person. Tech's comment about Crosshair being "severe and unyielding," and unable to change this facet of his nature, is incorrect. leaving Tech dead would mean that he never gets to see this change in Crosshair, which makes me feel like a deflated balloon.

FROM MY SELFISH PERSPECTIVE!!!

give me Tech with cool scars and slightly disheveled longer hair. this is such a good opportunity for the creators to give him a sweet new look!

we never got to see Tech without his goggles on, despite Phee constantly referring to his eyes. he definitely doesn't have them right now (they're in the Archium), so we could get Mister Big Brown Eyes if he's alive. it's another missed opportunity if not, imo!

the goggles being placed in the Archium was a beautiful scene that makes me tear up whenever i think about it. it's symbolic, it's bittersweet, and it's exactly where the goggles belong. but was it closure for me? not really.

Tech is a character who became a LOT of people's favorite in season 2, including my own. why kill off a fan-favorite with an entire season to go?

yes, i desperately want a Rex and Echo series. yes, i want the batch to cameo in it, and yes... that includes Tech. making up for lost season 3 Tech content 😎

the finale will feature the zillo beast, and Tech loves the zillo beast. FREE HER! REUNITE THEM! he would love to witness her rampage.

FROM A "SURPRISE!!!!!" PERSPECTIVE

it seems like most people think Tech is either CX-2 or dead. it would be a great finale twist if we DID get CX-2's identity, it's NOT Tech, the audience loses hope, and then he shows up. i think this is actually plausible given the other assassin schematics Hemlock was looking at in Point of No Return. Tech might be in Hemlock's grasp, but not an active operative. having an enhanced clone to toy with is something Hemlock would want to keep under wraps. we see him step out of the assassin chamber at the start of that episode - if Tech is anywhere on Tantiss, i think it's here.

i think the writers have expected us to have all lost hope by now, so his finale reappearance would ideally come as a shock. the finale is almost guaranteed to be a very long episode, so we really might have quite a bit of time to explore his return, if it happens.

secret 16th episode: i know, i'm putting my clown makeup on as i type this. but the previous 2 seasons each had 16 episodes, with a two-parter finale. season 3 is just 15, with a single episode finale. TBB formally ends may 1st, so what if we get a may 4th surprise episode detailing how Tech survived? (that or an epilogue leading into a new series, which i think is more likely actually!)

#i definitely forgot some points but i just need to post this and be done with it #feel free to add your own observations 👀#tbb tech #the bad batch #tech lives #techphee #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers

85 notes · View notes