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azulpitlane · 4 months

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just pr part two I ln4

pairing: lando norris x ricciardo!reader summary: you are beginning to warm up to lando but it all comes crashing down when you overhear something you weren't suppose to, includes writing + smau notes: im back! hope you guys had a good holiday!! p.s if you sent requests i am working on them!! this one is pretty long but i tried to fit it all into one part warnings: a tiny tiny bit of smut, but barely anything part one, masterlist

"So when were you planning on tell me?" Your brother asked accusingly the moment you opened the door of your apartment. A few hours prior, you had called Lando and demanded for him to come over knowing Daniel was going to arrive soon and interrogate you and you refused to deal with this on your own. It was his idea in the first place.

"Um, lovely seeing you too Danny. Need help with your bags?"

"Don't give me the sarcasm right now y/n." You could tell he was genuinely agitated with your response and you sighed and opened the door to let him in. He quickly walked to your kitchen and saw Lando sitting there with a sheepish smile.

"Hey Daniel...how are you?" He immediately knew that was the wrong thing to say since he started stalking his way towards Lando.

"You motherf-"

"OKAY OKAY! Calm down Danny, just sit down and we'll talk." You fortunately were quick enough to stop him from getting to Lando. You gave him a stern look and though you were younger, Danny knew to listen to you when you gave him that look. He reluctantly sat in front of Lando while you sat yourself next to him.

"It's not what you think."

Daniel raised an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and concern on his face. "Oh, really? Because the pictures and the headlines seem to tell a different story."

Lando, always quick with a comeback, attempted to diffuse the tension. "Well, mate, you know how the media exaggerates everything."

Daniel's gaze shifted between the two of you, and he let out a sigh. "You're dating, aren't you?"

You nodded, feeling the weight of the admission. "It's complicated, Danny. We didn't plan for it to happen."

He leaned back, crossing his arms. "Complicated is an understatement. You're my sister, Y/n. And you," he pointed at Lando, "you're...Lando."

"I'm going to try and not be offended by that."

"You know what I mean. I just don't understand why you didn't tell me before."

"Well we're only two months into our relationship so we wanted to figure things out privately and decide if we were ready to fully commit to each other before telling people." You reciprocated the explanation that you and Lando made up an hour prior.

"And are you fully ready to commit to each other?"

You nudged Lando's thigh since Daniel was staring directly at him, expecting an answer from him.

"Yup. 100%."

Danny responded with a skeptical look, "That doesn't sound too convincing."

You gave Lando a harsher nudge, he was doing an awful job at making this convincing.

"Look, I know I haven't been perfect, but y/n she just...brings out a side of me that nobody else does. I know I should've spoke to you before making a move and I regret not doing so, but I don't regret y/n. And I don't regret that night when we first bumped into each other outside of the paddock," realizing his mistake he quickly added, "where we first admitted our feelings."

You glanced at Lando confused at the pause in his speech, but he avoided eye contact and kept his gaze at Daniel. You weren't sure if he was referring to the night you guys hooked up or if he was just trying to make the relationship believable. You then looked at your brother noticing his expression was softening, a part of you felt guilty for lying to him about this relationship so you quickly added an apology.

"We really are sorry you had to find out through social media, I wish we told you before those pictures were released, but there's no point in dwelling in it now. This relationship wasn't intentional, it just happened and we're serious about it." You said trying to talk as softly as possible to make it believable.

"I can't say i'm thrilled about this, but I forgive you guys. I was just angry at the moment because everybody was saying all these crazy things about my baby sister, and I was mad Lando was the reason behind it. But you guys are grown adults and can make your own decisions so whatever you think is best for your happiness, I will support it."

"Oh thank God." Lando grabbed your head and kissed it, you knew he was doing it to irritate you and you wanted nothing more than to smack him hand away but you just smiled and accepted his affection.

Daniel on the other hand, openly showed his disgust and quickly added, "Okay, don't push it."

yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 290,335 others

yourusername im just a girl (with a himbo bf and overprotective brother)

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user THE HAND PLACEMENT OH LORD

user just fell on my knees

user himbo bf is so real

user OKAY SO DANNY OFFICIALLY KNOWS

user it looks like he approves aww

landonorris himbo?

yourusername the jokes write themselves landonorris i dont get it? what is a himbo? user he fr is a himbo im crying user yourusername baby are you sure about this one?

user everybody say thank you y/n because we're gonna get so much lando and daniel content now

yourbff oh! hahaha...

user what does she know🤨 user shes seen the photos of him with other girls i fear...

danielricciardo landonorris hand placement is a bit inappropriate no?

landonorris sorry mate... user she wasn't lying with the overprotective part😭 user daniel is in cockblocker mode

As soon as Danny left, you both quickly left each others embrace and went back to your usual snarky banter. He was quick to leave your apartment but before he could, you stopped him wanting to clear some things up.

"Okay so for this to work, we need a set of rules," Lando rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to say something, "uh, no interruptions please, you can speak when I'm done." You could see him roll his eyes again, but kept his mouth shut nonetheless.

"Rule number one, no kissing in the lips, even in front of the cameras."

"That is so stupid, we alre-"

"What did I say? No speaking until I am done!"

"Bossy. I like this side of you." He smirked at you suggestively and you ignored that comment all together, not wanting to give the satisfaction of a reaction from you.

"Rule number two, no posting each other without permission. We must both approve of the post." He lazily nodded, not really caring about these rules.

"Rule number three, we cannot tell anybody, besides your team of course, that this is fake. I mean nobody, not even your close friends, we can't risk Danny finding out."

"Anything else, princess?"

"Chill with the affection, you were practically hogging me when we were with Daniel."

"You weren't complaining last week when you were under me."

You blushed and quickly used your hair to cover it. You guys hadn't talked about that night and you were trying your best to avoid the topic. It was a drunk mistake, that's it. It's not like either of you would do it again. Even if it was the best sex of your life, you would never admit that out loud.

"Shut up, that was a drunk, stupid mistake," His smirk fell and was replaced with an emotionless look, "rule number four, no talking about that night, got it?"

"Yeah, whatever, can I go now?"

f1gossip

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f1gossip Lando and Y/n in Paris today! The two just landed and are there with a few of Lando's friends. They confirmed their relationship a few weeks ago on instagram posts and sources say they've been together for a few months prior to the posts. Thoughts on the new couple?

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user its funny to think that he might be daniel's brother in law in the future lmfao

user idk about them... lando was just seen with other girls before their posts

user probably just friends chill user yeah fr, lando always says those other girls are just his friends

user honestly im happy he's finally settling for a nice girl, no more drama

user it couple

user omg they both love photography...imagine all the pictures they take of one another

user omg. i need to see y/n's camera roll🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️

user the all black fit >>>>>

user the girlfriend effect is starting already

user IM SO NORMAL ABOUT THEM (IM OBSESSED WITH THEM)

As you and Lando began the charade of a fake relationship, you couldn't shake off the feeling that this was going to be more complicated than you initially thought. The staged photos, the forced smiles, and the scripted interactions started to wear on you. But for the sake of your relationship with your brother, you pushed through. This is the first time you and Lando left Monaco together and he had dragged you to Paris for a few events he had. You were there with his friends so you had to keep up with your act practically all the time until you went to sleep.

"Wait, we're sharing a room?"

Lando raised an eyebrow, "Yeah, it's more convincing that way. We're a couple, remember?"

You sighed, realizing the extent of the relationship. "Fine, but no funny business. We stick to the rules."

He smirked, "You're no fun, princess."

You shot him a warning look, "I'm serious, Lando. This is for my brother's sake, not for our amusement."

He chuckled, "Alright, alright. No funny business. I promise."

You begrudgingly entered the room and noticed there was only one bed. You turned to him with a blank look on your face and he gave you an innocent smile, knowing you were pissed.

"Really, Lando? One bed?"

He shrugged, feigning innocence. "Oops, must be a mistake. But it's not like we haven't shared a bed before, right?"

You shot him a glare. "Rule number four."

"What?"

"Rule number four: no talking of the night that got us into this mess in the first place."

"Jesus, you weren't being serious about those rules?"

"Dead serious." You moved around him and got your pajamas from your suitcase to change in the bathroom.

"If I knew you were going to be this boring I would've fake dated someone else." He mumbled in response.

"I heard that!" You yelled from the bathroom.

"Yeah well you were meant to!" He sassily replied.

You came out of the bathroom bare faced and wearing a skimpy set consisting of a tight tank top and tiny shorts. If you knew you would be sharing a room with Lando you would've never packed this, but it was the only thing you had on you right now. You noticed Lando looking at you and you were expecting some sort of remark on your outfit but it never came. He just watched you with a look you could not name, you couldn't help but feel a little self conscious under his hard gaze. You opened your mouth to question him but you were interrupted by three knocks on the door. You quickly went to open it, wanting to get away from the sudden tension in the room.

"Hello! Room service here, may I step in?"

"Oh sure." You didn't even realize Lando had ordered anything while you were in the bathroom.

The man walked in and at that moment he seemed to notice your outfit for the first time and subtly looked you up and down. You felt uncomfortable but before anything else could be said Lando stepped in front of you and tipped the guy. He blushed knowing he was caught and quickly made his way out.

"Uhh what did you order?" You asked wanting to fill the weird silence in the room.

"Hot chocolate, it's uh for you." You gave him a questioning gaze and you didn't know if you were hallucinating but it looked like he was blushing. "Daniel mentioned something about you guys always sneaking out of bed to drink a cup of chocolate before sleeping when you were younger and you had an insane amount of chocolate when I went over to your apartment so I'm guessing you still do it."

You couldn't help but smile at the memory he mentioned. It was a tradition you and Daniel had when you were kids, sneaking out of bed to share a cup of hot chocolate before sleeping. It was a comforting routine that continued into your teenage years. The fact that Lando remembered and went through the trouble of ordering it made you soften towards him, at least for a moment.

"Wow, you actually remembered that?" You chuckled, feeling a bit nostalgic.

Lando scratched the back of his head, a bit embarrassed. "Yeah, well, I thought it might help make this whole pr thing a bit more bearable. Plus, I know you love it."

You sighed, realizing that maybe there was more to Lando than just the cocky and flirtatious exterior he presented. "Thanks, Lando. That was...unexpectedly sweet."

He shrugged, trying to downplay it. "Well, don't get used to it. It's a one-time thing. Im gonna uh get in the shower now."

You nodded and he left you alone with your thoughts, you couldn't shake off the mixed emotions swirling within you. This fake relationship was becoming more complicated by the day, but there were moments, like this one, that blurred the lines between acting and reality. You couldn't deny that there was a connection between you and Lando, even if it was born out of necessity. You sat on the bed and picked up a book to stop your overthinking, it was just a cup of chocolate. No big deal.

Lando came out of the shower and was faced with an empty cup and you knocked out on the bed. He picked up your book and marked the page you left off on before placing it on the bedside table. He grabbed a pillow and blanket and got comfortable on the small couch in the room before he drifted off into sleep.

The next morning you woke up before Lando and quickly noticed he was not sleeping in the bed next to you. You felt bad seeing him cramped in the small couch across from the bed and you mentally kicked yourself for falling asleep before you could volunteer to take the couch, he was the one that paid after all. You got up and silently approached him, he looked so peaceful and you thought about how chivalrous his gesture was. You knew there was more to him than his arrogant persona, but you were surprised he was letting you see a part of the real him after all this time.

"I know I'm attractive but watching me sleep is a little creepy don't you think?" He said suddenly while keeping his eyes closed.

There was that arrogance.

"Oh you're awake? There goes my opportunity to strangle you in your sleep."

"Kinky girl."

"Just shut up and get up, we have a lot to do."

landonorris posted a story

You were shocked when none of Lando's friends joined you two today seeing as you were exploring the city. Once he had told you they wanted to do their own thing, you expected for him to go back to his cocky self since there was nobody around, but he constantly kept a hold on your hand, gave you his jacket when you got cold, and even helped with your photography.

You had brought your camera in hopes to capture some good pictures of the city of love and he helped by giving you some ideas. You were confused by his kind behavior since you guys kept a low profile and weren't recognized by anybody as you walked around. You didn't mind this side of Lando though and appreciated this personality before he became a cocky jerk again.

"Did your team tip off any paparazzi anywhere that I should be aware of?" You asked thinking maybe there was someone watching.

"Uh no actually. I asked for a calm day before we go to the event later tonight. That's where all the photographers will be."

"Huh, so you're telling me you organized this whole day yourself?" You asked slowly not understanding why his team would set up a day in Paris with just you two without exposure to it.

Lando grinned mischievously, "Well, I thought we could use a break from the chaos. Plus, Paris is a beautiful city, and it seemed like a waste not to explore it properly."

You raised an eyebrow, still skeptical of his sudden change in behavior. "And you're not going to pull some elaborate prank or reveal that this was all a setup?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "No pranks, no setups. Just a day to enjoy the city and each other's company. Is that so hard to believe?"

Considering Lando's usual antics, it was indeed hard to believe. However, you decided to go along with it, enjoying the unexpected break from the scripted events and staged moments.

As you continued exploring the streets of Paris, Lando pointed out interesting landmarks, shared anecdotes about his previous visits, and even suggested some hidden gems for your photography. The day unfolded in a surprisingly genuine and enjoyable manner.

At a quaint café, Lando insisted on treating you to a cup of coffee, saying, "Consider it a thank you for putting up with my chaotic world for the past few days."

You couldn't help but smile, finding this side of Lando surprisingly endearing. "You're not so bad when you're not trying to be a pain, you know?"

He winked, "I'll take that as a compliment."

The two of you strolled along the Seine River, taking in the iconic sights of Paris. The Eiffel Tower loomed in the distance, and you couldn't resist capturing the moment with your camera.

As you snapped a few pictures, Lando leaned in and whispered, "You know, you're not so bad either, princess."

You rolled your eyes, but there was a warmth in your chest that you couldn't deny. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to this fake relationship than meets the eye.

The day passed in a blur of laughter, shared moments, and a surprising connection that seemed to grow stronger with each passing hour. It was a side of Lando you hadn't expected, and you found yourself enjoying his company without the pressure of the public eye.

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yourusername j'adore paris

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user mother posted!!!

yourbff you look absolutely incredible..and he's there

yourusername 😭😭 be nice! landonorris im starting to think you dont like me... user LMFAO OMG

user y/n.jpg WHEN????

user lando taking her to the city of love...yeah they're not breaking up anytime soon

landonorris my pretty girl

user 🫠🫠 user oh to be lando's pretty girl, y/n won at life

user remind me how lando pulled her??? shes so gorgeous

user he beat the norizz allegations

danielricciardo there should be a jumpscare warning for the last slide!

user HAHAHAHA landonorris why am i always being attacked in y/ns comments

As Lando mentioned, you were going to make appearance at the PSG game which you actually were excited for since you were a big football fanatic. You both changed and met up with his friends in the lobby before heading out again. The game was going great and you had even met some of the guys' girlfriends and befriended them rather quickly. After being surrounded by men the whole trip, you were glad to have some women around you to socialize with. You then all made plans as a group to go to an after-party to celebrate the teams win.

The party was huge, there were even some PSG players there and you were suddenly glad you chose a nice outfit to go to the game with, not wanting to feel underdressed.

As the night wore on, Lando pulled you aside again, away from the bustling crowd. "Having fun, princess?"

You nodded, a smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, surprisingly. Your friends are great dancers, by the way."

He grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Well, we're a talented bunch. But you're the best dancer here."

You laughed, not expecting the compliment. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Lando."

He leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "I don't know about that. Flattery seems to be working quite well tonight."

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the blush that threatened to surface. "Smooth talker."

"Only to you." He replied and he stepped closer to tug a piece of hair behind your ear. You became aware of his proximity and couldn't help to feel your heart start racing. You instinctively put your hands on his shoulder as he looked down on your lips. You felt yourself leaning in before something caught your eye over his shoulder, a camera. Someone was filming, that's why he was acting like this. You don't know why the idea made you a little sad, so you snapped out of it and turned your head so his lips landed on your cheek. His eyes were filled with confusion, weren't you just leaning in too? Did you not feel the spark that ignited between you two today?

“No kissing. Even on camera, remember?” You said sadly then rejoined the girls as he stood there confused.

You spent the rest of the night separately until the girls decided they were tired. You volunteered to go look for the boys and as soon as you stepped outside through the backdoor you heard Lando’s voice.

“I mean we just started and I’m already regretting it. Its just so hard to be around her, she has all these rules that im technically breaking by telling you,”

Your heart dropped realizing he was talking about you. You stopped listening, not wanting to hear the rest because you knew it would only hurt. You realized how much you were beginning to like Lando thinking you could get through the constant facade he has, but after hearing his words you were starting to think it wasn’t a facade. He was just mean. You began to wonder if all the other snarky and rude remarks he made weren’t sarcasm, but the real way he felt about you.

You went back inside, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, and saw the rest of the girls had reunited with their boyfriends so you assured them they could leave and you were just waiting for Lando. With teary eyes you made your way to the small bar and ordered a water.

As you sat at the bar, nursing your water, you couldn't shake off the mix of emotions swirling within you. The revelations from Lando's words had left you feeling hurt and confused. You had let your guard down, allowed yourself to enjoy the night, and now it seemed like it was all a part of some elaborate act.

“Not having a good time?”

You looked up and were slightly starstruck to see Kylian Mbappe sitting next to you.

“Um no not anymore, unless youre the host of this party! Then im having a blast.”

He laughed at your comment and you blushed in embarrassment.

"Don't worry, it's not my party. Why are you alone?"

"I'm just waiting for my friends, they're outside."

"Hm, so why aren't you outside with them...?"

"Y/n." You replied knowing he was subtly asking. "But I just uh needed some water," you said quickly trying to think of an excuse.

"Y/n's a beautiful name, I'm Kylian."

"Oh I know." He raised his eyebrows at your response but before he could say anything else Lando had appeared out of nowhere. He gave you a tight lipped smile and put his arm around your waist after seeing who you were talking to.

"Kylian! It's good to see you mate, sorry to interrupt but we were just heading out." He said as he used his other hand to shake Kylian's.

Kylian reciprocated the handshake with a friendly smile, though his eyes flickered with curiosity at the sudden appearance of Lando.

"No problem at all," Kylian replied, glancing between you and Lando. "Nice meeting you, Y/n. Enjoy the rest of the night."

You nodded, a bit flustered by the unexpected attention from both men. "You too, Kylian. Maybe catch you at another party."

As Kylian excused himself, you turned your attention to Lando, who still had his arm around your waist. His grip felt possessive, and you couldn't help but shoot him a questioning look.

"What was that about?" you asked, a hint of irritation in your voice.

Lando's gaze flickered between you and the direction Kylian had walked off. "Just making sure everything's alright. I noticed you talking to him."

"It's not like I was in distress. We were just having a casual conversation." You replied before being dragged away by Lando and seeing his friend, Romeo, trail behind you too. Ahh so that's who he was talking to.

Lando raised an eyebrow, his tone slightly defensive. "Casual conversation, huh? Seemed more than that."

The ride home was quiet, none of you knowing what to say after your almost kiss and hearing him talk about you. You thought about the situation the whole ride to the hotel and were getting angrier by the second, he was the one that suggested this idea and now he was regretting it? And worst of all, why was he talking to others about this and not you?

"As soon as you got to your room your thoughts were interrupted by Lando's voice, "What if someone had taken pictures? Do you know how bad that would look on your part? Flirting with other men while in a relationship with me."

You rolled your eyes and defended yourself, "I was not flirting with him."

"That's not what it looked like to me." He said with a hard tone.

"Why do you care? We're not really dating."

"Oh I know, you remind me any time you can, but we're doing this for the sake of your reputation too."

"As if you cared about me and maybe I remind you all the time because in reality I would never date an asshole like you." You answered bitterly as you moved around the room trying to get yourself ready for bed.

Lando followed your movements and gave you a hurt yet irritated look, "An asshole, huh? That's what you think of me?"

"Yeah."

"You know, you're no prize either! You only think of yourself that you fail to see the obvious." Responded with clear frustration in his voice.

"What the hell is that suppose to mean?"

Lando's frustration boiled over as he paced around the room. "It means you're so caught up in your own world that you don't see beyond your own nose. You're oblivious to what's happening around you. I'm trying here, more than you can understand."

You scoffed, not buying into his sudden change in tone. "Oh please, spare me the act. You're the one regretting this whole thing, talking about it with your friends, and then acting possessive when I talk to someone else? What game are you playing, Lando?"

He looked at you in confusion, "When did I say I regretted..." Realization hit him as he remembered the events from earlier that day, "you heard me talking to Romeo. No, no you don't understand, it's just... more complicated than I thought."

You crossed your arms, not willing to let him off the hook that easily. "Complicated? Enlighten me."

Lando hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I didn't expect... I didn't expect to care, alright? But spending time with you, even in this ridiculous situation, it's messing with my head. And it's not just about the reputation, it's... something else."

You raised an eyebrow, "Something else? Care to elaborate?" You asked with attitude.

He groaned, having enough with your sassy tone, and before you knew it, your back was getting pushed into the wall as Lando trapped you with his arms on the side of your head. You got flashbacks of the party as you looked up at his face that was only centimeters away from yours.

"You're so frustrating y/n. I told Romeo I regretted this because it's so hard to be around you when all I think about is the night I fucked you." You sucked a breath in, shocked by his bold statement. He brought one of his hand down to your jaw and traced his thumb on your bottom lip. "I have to hold myself back when I'm around you, you have completely fucked with my head, it's so infuriating."

"Then...then why did you agree to this whole fake dating thing?" You asked, almost whispering.

He chuckled and replied, "I didn't have to agree to it. It was my idea." Your eyes filled with confusion, remembering he had told you it was his team's idea, "I suggested it so I could get another chance to get a taste of you. Tell me you don't want this. Tell me you haven't thought of that night we had sex." He asked with a gaze full of lust and frustration.

You could feel your walls crumbling down at his seductive tone and close proximity. You shook your head and weakly responded, "I can't."

He smirked at you before taking one of your hands in his own and moving it to his hardened cock.

"This enough elaboration for you?" He asked with a cocky tone. You could feel yourself getting wet and had enough of his teasing. You moved your hands to his face and brought it to your own. The kiss was messy and full of built up frustration and anger, a perfect combination to your relationship.

As the passionate kiss continued, you found yourself getting lost in the moment, forgetting the complications and frustrations that had filled the air just moments ago. Lando's lips moved against yours with a mixture of intensity and tenderness, creating a whirlwind of emotions within you.

Eventually, he pulled away, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. Your breath was heavy, and the room felt charged with tension. Lando's fingers traced the outline of your jaw, and he spoke in a low, husky voice, "I can't keep pretending, y/n. This is more than just a pr stunt for me."

Conflicting emotions swirled within you. On one hand, you couldn't deny the undeniable chemistry and connection you shared with Lando. On the other hand, the complications and rules that had governed your fake relationship loomed in the background.

"I don't even know what this is anymore," you admitted, your voice shaky.

Lando leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Maybe it's time we stop pretending and figure it out together. No more rules, no more faking."

As you looked into his eyes, you saw a vulnerability that you hadn't expected. It was as if the arrogant facade he had meticulously maintained was crumbling, revealing the real Lando beneath.

"Can we even do that?" you wondered aloud.

Lando smiled, a genuine and sincere expression that took you by surprise. "I want to try, y/n."

You sighed, feeling a mixture of uncertainty and excitement. "What about the paparazzi, the public, and your career?"

"I don't care about any of that if it means I can be with you," he confessed, his gaze unwavering.

With a tentative smile, you nodded, realizing that maybe that maybe you can trust Lando after all.

As the night continued, you had deja vu to the night that got you and Lando in this position in the first place, except this time he was gentler and made you feel special.

more notes: im not comfortable enough to write smut, sorry🧍‍♀️and as per usual, this is not proofread lol

tags: @gulphulp, @cassiopeiia24

#lando norris #f1 x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #ln4 #f1 fanfic #mclaren #formula one #formula 1

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seulszn · 2 months

Text

Listen I love TLOU and the fandom very much but a lot of people (not calling anybody out) need a reality check and need to grow up. I wanna say my two cents on things that bother me in this fandom.

1. Boycotting for Palestine

I have seen multiple times on multiple occasions where people would sit on their phone and complain about why writers are “flooding the tags with this boycotting bullshit” and honestly all I have to say is your super childish you can’t take a hour or a week out of your day to raise awareness on a important topic that is affecting millions of people? Your so horny so down bad for pixelated characters that you don’t care about the innocent children, women and men that are dying in Palestine? The boycotting isn’t gonna stop just because you want your needs filled, the boycotting isn’t going to stop because you think it needs to, it’s not gonna stop until Palestine is free. And if you wanna read things that bad then read nobody is stoping you but a take into ignition that if a writer is spreading awareness then don’t be ignorant and say stupid shit

2. Less Sex and more angst or other genres.

Listen I love Abby and Ellie just like everyone else and I read a lot of smut about them but does that all y’all see when y’all look at them? As sex objects? Like I’m not saying that you should stop writing smut for those characters but write other things to that don’t involve smut, like angst I see a lot of people under that tag say how they wish writers would as write other things that isn’t just smut and majority of the time when they say that they get hated for it. It lowkey gets boring reading fanfics where the whole plot is smut, smut, smut. And again I’m not saying to stop writing smut but please for the love of whatever you believe in write other genres.

3. Black inclusivity

As a black writer and a black person TLOU tag isn’t inclusive enough. I know you must be thinking “Why are we speaking about this again?” Because I’m honestly so tired of how uninclusive the fandom is like I said before Ellie dates WOC if you don’t know what WOC is it’s Women Of Color all of Ellie’s girlfriends where WOC now I’m not saying you can’t write for Ellie as a white person and I’m not saying that never did all I am saying is once again all of Ellie’s girlfriend where POC

Riley was a Black African American who Dated Ellie

Cat the girl who wasn’t mentioned alot but is in the game is Asian American who also dated Ellie

Dina is a Jewish (Mexican, Middle Eastern ) American who dated Ellie

Also yes we know when the reader is white coded so don’t try a put that you don’t mention when race mentioned cause you do and we can tell when you do “She’s Petite and cute with her long blonde hair” or whatever you bitches be saying we know when you guys aren’t inclusive the whole point of fanfiction writing is to be inclusive is to make sure that readers can see themself in your xreader so if your putting all these “white things and then labeling your story as “the readers race is not mentioned” or that OC stuff that y’all do then just label the story as a white reader or a OC reader

4. Futa, trans and masc

Now here I’m gonna discuss two or three things starting off with Futa and Trans. Now I don’t know when “Futa” or “Trans” Ellie and Abby came from but a lot of you readers need to understand and learn the difference between the two because they are both very different things.

Futanari: is the Japanese word for hermaphroditism, which is also used in a broader sense for androgyny. Beyond Japan, the term has come to be used to describe a commonly pornographic genre of eroge, manga, and anime, which includes characters that show primary sexual characteristics from both females and males. In today's language, it refers almost exclusively to characters who have an overall feminine body, but have both female and male primary genitalia (although a scrotum is not always present, while breasts, a penis, and a vulva are). The term is also often abbreviated as futa(s), which is also used as a generalized term for the works themselves.

Transgender (often shortened to trans) is someone whose gender identity differs from that typically associated with the sex they were assigned at birth. Some transgender people who desire medical assistance to transition from one sex to another identify as transsexual. Transgender is also an umbrella term; in addition to including people whose gender identity is the opposite of their assigned sex (trans men and trans women), it may also include people who are non-binary or genderqueer. Other definitions of transgender also include people who belong to a third gender, or else conceptualize transgender people as a third gender. The term may also include cross-dressers or drag kings and drag queens in some contexts. The term transgender does not have a universally accepted definition, including among researchers.

Mind you I am not transgender I am nonbinary but I see a lot of transgender people speak up about how offensive it is to write a character as Transgender but it’s not really transgender but a Futanari remember a Futa is a character who is assigned a gender at birth but just has extra sexual parts like a penis.

Now another thing that bothers me is how y’all Masculinize Masc Lesbians as if they still aren’t women themselves like every time I read a fanfic with Ellie or Abby or even Vi and Sevika from Arcane you guys like to ignore they fact that they are also women themselves like it’s not gonna kill you to give those characters feminine compliments there shouldn’t be a reason why your calling these women “handsome” or other Masculine compliments and also a lot of Masculine women where makeup it’s not just a feminine woman thing. Masc Lesbians are women they aren’t men so stop treating them as if they are men and ignoring the fact that they are women

5. the Innocent childish reader gotta stop.

They title says enough I don’t think I need to say too much but a lot of y’all get innocent and corruption mixed up but a corruption kink is When you find the idea of "corrupting" someone, mostly in a sexual way, like taking virginities or introducing people to stuff like bdsm etc. It's the idea of having someone "pure" do "bad" things under your influence. And innocent is not corrupted or tainted with evil or unpleasant emotion; sinless; pure. not guilty of a particular crime; blameless. (From the dictionary)

Y’all need to understand yes not everyone knows what sex is but everyone knows what a vagina is what a penis is, what a orgasm is and what sex is but they may not knows what happens when you have sex so making the reader what y’all call innocent isn’t innocent it’s honestly to me perverted cause the only one who would say something like “my cunny feels weird 🥺” or that “what is sex 🥺” is a child. Children don’t know what sex is children don’t know what pleasure or orgasms is and when y’all say “the reader is a Bimbo” is also funny cause Bimbos know what sex is as well yes they may be stupid but they aren’t slow so before you make a innocent reader please think “am I making my reader act like a child or am I gonna make her really innocent like how regular grown ass adults act?” so don't get not knowing and "innocent" mixed up

6. The stories where they have sex inside a church also gotta stop

Now I’m not a Christian but these stories are honestly really bad and are Blasphemy a lot of people have come out and said that they don’t like the fact that people are writing stories about church in a sexual way like their shouldn’t be any reason why your characters are fucking inside a church, that’s like stomping on someone’s dead grave. You guys do shit like this and then wonder why Christian’s don’t like us. Religion isn’t something to be sexualized it’s not something to be playing with either this idc how much you hate Christianity you can be a Atheist, or Catholic or Jewish but please for the love of whatever you believe in don’t sexualize people’s religion.

That’s all I can think of at the moment if I think of more I’ll of course make a part two to this but don’t take anything I said here to heart it’s just my blunt honest opinion on things in this fandom and if I get hate for this 🤷🏾‍♀️

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cheeseanonioncrisps · 1 year

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So like, it's okay to be good and nobody is born evil and anyone can change the path they're on, yadda yadda yadda, but I actually think one of the biggest lessons Megamind learns over the course of the film is the shocking revelation that actions have consequences.

I'm not even kidding. When you put aside the whole 'evil' thing, one of Megamind's biggest flaws is his entirely screwed up notion of cause and effect.

Like, the whole reason the plot happens is because it apparently never occurred to Megamind that 'carrying out elaborate plots to kill Metroman' could ever result in 'dead Metroman'. Nor that creating a new hero with the specific motivation of defeating him, Megamind, could lead to negative consequences for him, Megamind. Or that riling said hero up into a murderous rage could have the unforeseen consequence of that hero raging around murderously.

Dude spent at least a few years kidnapping Roxanne, threatening her with alligators and lasers and various other villainous knick-knacks, only to disguise himself as somebody else and lie to her until she fell in love with this fake identity he'd created and is genuinely shocked when she is upset upon finding this out.

Not just that she did find out, but that post-her finding out he is unable to talk her into continuing the relationship.

“We don't judge a book by its cover or a person by their appearance… we judge them based on their actions.”

“Seems kinda petty, don't you think?”

Megamind may be a genius when it comes to inventions and evil plans, but he's a fucking idiot when it comes to predicting and anticipating the obvious results of his actions.

And thing is, it makes total sense why he would be like that.

He spent his childhood being consistently punished by the adults in his life, often for no reason that he could understand or even for no reason at all. As a result, he stops viewing punishment as a consequence of his behaviour and starts seeing it as a consequence of him being 'evil', which of course leads to him leaning into his evil persona and eventually becoming a supervillain.

And, as a supervillain, ironically enough, he's completely sheltered from consequence by his greatest enemy, Metroman.

Megamind doesn't need to worry about his evil plans hurting any citizens, because Metroman will use his powers to save them. Megamind doesn't have to worry about the damage he does to the city, because Metroman can fix it.

Megamind does in theory have to worry about social consequences for his behaviour, but the social consequences are being locked in prison and having everybody hate him which is like, the default status quo of his existence since he was a baby.

He literally calls the prison as 'home', a word he does not use to refer to his Evil Lair or indeed anywhere else in the film barring his home planet. Going there is an inconvenience, maybe, but it's not really a punishment. It's where he lives.

Metroman's 'death' changes all that.

Not only does one of Megamind's evil plans finally destroy something that (seemingly) can't be fixed, but he's then turned loose on the city with no superhero to run around after him cleaning up his mess.

Now, if he steals all the artwork in the gallery, then Metro City will no longer have artwork in it's gallery, and people (Roxanne) will miss it and be upset. If he doesn't take care to clean the streets then the streets… will be dirty, and people (Roxanne) will be negatively affected.

If he gives a random, unstable, person superpowers and then goes out of his way to piss that person off, then that person can't be guaranteed upon to “play the game” just because that's what Metroman did, and people (Megamind… then everybody else) will be negatively affected.

And the flipside of this is that, by the end of the film, he wins the battle because he realises "hey, I can change this". If his negative actions have negative consequences then he can choose to do the positive thing instead and save the city.

#megamind #megamind meta #megamind analysis

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 months

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Before You Go

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: Reader is a grad student in college trying to work hard for her degree, but a certain green eyed stranger keeps showing up and turns her life upside down. Will she push him away? Or will she finally realize that he’s not going anywhere? (I’m so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Tropes: Angst, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Age Difference (Reader is early to mid-20's and Dean is probably early 30's)

Word Count: 5.5K (I have an addiction don't judge me)

Warnings: Some swearing (once or twice), mentions of sex (not explicit at all), implied sex, self-deprecating thoughts (Dean), Dean might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. I’m not going to lie, this one is a little self-indulgent. This is only my second supernatural fic, so please be gentle. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Masterlist

Part 2

********************************************

"Did you understand anything from that lecture?" Tim asks nudging your shoulder.

The sour smell of beer and sweat fades in and out of your nose as you make your way to the Science building through the mass of students on the way to the football game. It was a Thursday night, Thursday night for everyone else meant tailgating, cheap beer, and face paint, but Thursday night for you meant four hours in the anatomy lab surrounded by the oppressive smell of formaldehyde and bent over a table examining the internal intricacies of the human body.

It wasn’t unwelcome, you knew what you signed up for when you decided to go to medical school, but you still wished that the lab was earlier in the day instead of at 6 pm.

The air is filled with the dull throb of energy, pulsing with the music from speakers all over campus, and through the throngs of people that pass you on the way to the stadium. The buzz of excitement in the air vibrated through your nerve endings. If you paid attention to how well the football team was doing, you would have known that tonight was the championship, but the closest you got to pigskin was the bag of pork rinds in your backpack and the occasional football player that asked you for help finding research materials during your shifts at the library.

"Nope." You reply jostling past a group of guys toting a giant stuffed pig wearing jersey of the school’s rival while they catcall some girls up ahead dressed from head to toe in bright red.

"Then why did you keep nodding?"

"Because Professor Drake was staring right at me!"

"You didn't have to make eye contact."

"It's a little late for that don't you think?" You smile up at him. He's taller than you, with dark hair falling forward into his glasses and a lean build. "But it's alright, I'll just binge watch YouTube videos."

Tim laughs adjusting his backpack over his shoulder. You had been lab partners since your first year, randomly assigned and forced to collaborate, but after many late night study sessions and mental breakdowns, Tim was one of your only friends.

“You seem to spend a lot of time on YouTube." He smiles.

"It's free education."

"Seems ridiculous to pay all this money just to learn it on YouTube."

"If YouTube handed out degrees for watching videos I’d be a doctor by now. I’d probably also have a degree in culinary arts.” You look down to check the watch on your wrist. You were both running late for lab. Dr. Welsh hated it when students were late, in fact, he was notorious for locking the door. Each week there was always some poor soul that banged on the door for entry, but Dr. Welsh knew no mercy. One time, you witnessed another student attempt to sneak in through the window an hour late. Dr. Welsh made them go back out the way they came, despite the lab being on the third floor.

At least the student brought a ladder with him.

“Culinary arts?”

“I like pie. Plus baking helps me cope with my stress.” You knock into his shoulder to shut him up. “What? You don’t watch anything weird on YouTube?”

“I usually start watching videos to understand the lectures and suddenly it’s been 7 hours, it’s 3 am and I’m watching a timelapse of metal rusting.”

“We’ve all been there buddy.”

"Hey doll-face!" You hear from somewhere behind you, but you ignore it, believing it to be another group of guys who splash beer over the sidewalk.

You glance down at your watch again.

"We're not going to be late." Jake says sensing your anxiety. "We've got 5 minutes."

"Early is on time, on time is late, late is inexcusable." You sing-song.

"Dr. Welsh embroider that on a pillow for you?"

"No it’s just-"

Someone grabs your backpack and pulls you back a step. What the- You whirl around prepared to cuss out a drunken frat boy, but you weren't expecting Dean Winchester.

"Dean." You say in surprise.

He looks better than you remember. Dean's wearing a red flannel covered by a black jacket, his hair tousled just the right amount to look effortless, his green eyes crinkled around the edges as his mouth pulls into a smile that makes your knees weak.

Your relationship, if you could even call it that, began your first week of classes, two years ago. You had just moved into your apartment and met your new roommate, but instead of going out to the new student mixer with her, you decided to stay in and unpack. It was past midnight when you heard a commotion in the apartment next door and when you opened your front door to investigate, you found Dean in the hallway leaning against the wall. His clothes were torn, he had a knife in his hand, blood was soaked through the front of his shirt, but when his eyes met yours, you weren't afraid. He looked so broken, so small that you had to help him. So you pulled him into your apartment and stitched him up the best you could, while he tried to lie about how it happened and explain why he looked like he'd been through a blender. Dean had never been good at lying to you, not even then. He was also the biggest baby you had ever met when it came to wound care.

In the months that followed Dean continued to show up, each time with injuries less and less life threatening asking you to help him, until one day he showed up perfectly fine and continued to show up. You would spend every minute together for a few days and then he would leave like nothing happened, only to show up again in a few weeks and it would start all over again. Sometimes you thought that he wanted more than just a few days together, but then he would just leave, not giving you any other explanation. You hadn't expected to fall for him as hard as you did, but each time he left it broke you. You found yourself hoping each day that he would show up, only to be disappointed when he didn't. Days would drag by fading into shades of gray until finally Dean would show up and everything went back to color, only to sink back into monochrome when he left. The last time you had seen him was a month ago, when you told him that you couldn't do this anymore and told him not to come back.

But now he was here, again.

"Hey Doll-face." Dean smiles wider.

You try to ignore how your heart stutters in your chest when he smiles at you.

"Do you know this guy?" Tim asks you taking a step forward to put himself between Dean and you.

Dean's eyes trace Tim, smile slipping into confident smirk as he sizes him up. He opens his mouth, but you interrupt whatever thought was about to come out.

"Unfortunately I do." You sigh. "Tim can you give us a minute."

"Sure. But-"

"I know." You say, understanding that he was going to remind you what time it was. "We won't be late."

"I'll be over there." Tim puts a healthy distance between the two of you, far enough to give you space, but close enough that he can see you.

Dean is still smirking at him. "Boyfriend?" His eyes flit to yours, amused.

"Lab partner." You adjust your grip on your backpack unsure what to do.

I said everything I needed to say the last time. I thought that was it. Did he think I didn't mean it?

You think about the last time he was here, when you told him that you couldn't do this anymore and when he finally left, how you skipped all your classes and stayed in bed for two days clutching a pillow to your chest and wishing that it was him. It had felt like the end. The end of whatever the hell this had been. Sometimes you wished that you had defined it the first time you slept together, wished that you had told him you didn't do that ever, that you didn't just sleep with people without feelings because you knew sooner or later it would end up like this.

Then again you knew that you always had feelings for him, since the moment you locked eyes with his the night you met.

"He’s cute. If you’re into that geeky kind of thing. Though you could always date Sam-"

"What are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood. Plus I didn’t want to miss the big game.” Dean's eyes flit to the mass of people swarming around you, shouting and singing as they stumble down the cracked pavement. The dark shadows of the buildings stretch long over campus, illuminated by the lamplights that line the sidewalks.

"You should have called"

"I did. You never pick up" He arches a perfect eyebrow.

"Most would take that as a hint"

"Well Sweetheart given my profession you not picking up made me worry."

By now you knew exactly what he did. Despite Dean not acting like he wanted a relationship, when all was quiet and it was just the two of you laying in bed he confided in you, told you things about his life that made you hold him close and wish that you could make him forget all about it. You loved those soft moments with Dean, when it felt like more and you could imagine that Dean wanted to be as wrapped up in you as you were in him.

Your heart clenches in your chest as you try to forget it all, forget the day he walked into your life, and forget how much you like him.

"I can’t do this with you right now, I’ve got a lab in 3 minutes." You turn towards where Tim is standing, prepared to leave.

"Come on you can blow off one lab.” Dean grabs your backpack turning you back to face him. “We can go to the big game. You know I can’t say no to free beer-“ The look in his eyes is joking.

He doesn't understand.

You shake him off. "No I can't Dean. This is important to me. This is my life. I can't drop everything just because you show up out of the blue."

"It wouldn't be out of the blue if you picked up your phone." His smile dips into an attractive pout that makes it very difficult to think.

"Dean why are you here?"

"I told you, I was in the neighborhood-"

"We talked about this. I can't do this anymore."

"I remember you talking about it."

"Yes and I remember you leaving." You snap as the memory of the last time you saw him rises in the back of your throat. You think about the days that followed, when you couldn't focus and flunked a test.

"Y/n-“ Dean sighs.

"Look, I like spending time with you, but I can't keep doing this to myself. You show up, we spend every second together for days, and then you leave. It would be one thing if we were trying to do long distance, but we’re not. All I get is radio silence for weeks and then you show up all over again like nothing happened, expecting to pick up right where we left off, and the cycle begins all over again."

"I don't go radio silent for weeks. It’s you that doesn’t pick up your phone or text me back.”

"Yes you do and I can't do it. I won't do it. Because every time you leave I wonder if it's the last time I'll ever see you and-" You take in a breath to stop the ball of emotion that lodges itself in your throat. "It does something to me. And I'm not saying that what you do is any less important than what I'm trying to accomplish here. I’m not telling you to stop hunting. But this is my life Dean, my future. And I don’t want to put that in jeopardy because you show up every few weeks when you’re feeling restless. I want more than a few days every few weeks. I want more and I'm worth more. And if you can't give that to me that's fine, but please stop coming around and so I can find someone else who can."

The expression on Dean's face shifts, it's no longer the playful smirk or attractive pout, it almost looks heartbroken.

But that can't be right. Dean doesn't see me that way.

You look at where Tim is waiting for you to avoid Dean's gaze. He’s looking down at the watch on his wrist and you can feel his apprehension.

"I've got to get to my lab." You turn away from Dean, but stop halfway to Tim. "It was good to see you Dean. I wish you the best."

As Tim and you begin to walk away, you can feel Dean's eyes on you the whole way up the stairs into the science building, but you refuse to turn back.

"Are you okay?" Tim whispers.

"I will be. Let's just go before Dr. Welsh locks the door." You mutter while pushing down the guilt that rose when you thought of how Dean looked when you walked away.

********************************************

Despite Dr. Welsh’s attempts to lock the door, you were far too angry with Dean to let another man stand in your way, so when you and Tim arrived to lab 10 seconds before the clock struck 6, you shoved your boot in the door before Dr. Welsh could shut it. And by some miracle he let you in. Maybe it was the murder in your eyes.

Tim had been stunned, you were usually more reserved, not quick tempered. But everything that happened with Dean rubbed you the wrong way.

You couldn’t decide if you liked him or hated him. Right now the hate was winning.

How dare he? You thought to yourself, hand clenching on the scalpel so tightly that Tim backed up. How dare he just show up again after I told him not to?

“Y/n, are you okay?” Tim had asked.

“I’m fine. Don’t I look fine?” You’d snapped at him.

Even Dr. Welsh had given you a wide berth through lab.

After you cleaned up everything it was 10:26 pm, which meant you had a little time before your late shift in the library.

“Did you want to go see if that shawarma food truck is still parked around the corner?” Tim asks hesitantly.

“No. I’m just gonna go to the library and study before my shift.” You mumble, shouldering your backpack and ignoring the urge to think about Dean.

Hopefully he took the hint and he’s gone. The thought brought a prick of guilt. Would that be the last time I ever saw him? Would those be the last words I ever said to him? You fight the urge to call him, to apologize, because the one thing you had wanted to say was that you liked him and you didn’t want him to go, you wanted him to stay in your life permanently. Sure long distance was hard, but for him it would be worth it.

“Oh.” Tim pauses for a minute. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Huh?”

“Well that Dean guy. You seemed kinda upset.”

“I was- am. But it’s okay, give me a few hours I’ll be over it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

“Make sure to send the link to that Timelapse of metal rusting.” You try to smile, but the joke falls flat.

“Okay.” Tim watches you go.

The library was only a 9 minute walk from the science building, but it still felt too long. You longed to be lost in your notes, to think of anything else other than Dean, but you couldn’t.

Why did he have to come back? Why couldn’t he have just let it lie? I was doing better- You think about the weeks that followed his last visit, a haze of homework, tests, and work. Well, I was doing okay.

The thrum of music is still in the air, but now less people pass you as you walk down the sidewalk, and the ones that do are holding hands and laughing. Your thoughts shift to Dean again.

I like him, but I have to get over him because it’s not going anywhere. You think about the first time you slept together. Maybe this is my fault, maybe I should have defined this from the beginning. I mean, I know the kind of person he is… That thought makes you pause. Sure the first few times you’d patched his wounds Dean was sexy and flirty, but all the times that followed he seemed, sweet, charming. It wasn’t that you spent every moment in bed, he had taken you out to dinner at the diner down the street, fought with you over the last slice of pie, took you to a bar for drinks where he shamelessly beat you at pool, other times he waited for you to be done with your classes to make sure that you didn't have to walk home alone at night. You remember how mad he had been when you told him you did that, but gas was so expensive and it was easier to walk the four blocks.

Someone grabs your arm from behind, pulling you out of your memories, and you finally snap. Using the only self defense move you knew, besides S-I-N-G from Miss Congeniality, you knock off the hand and flip the offender over your shoulder prepared to spray them in the face with the mace in your pocket.

But then you realize who it is.

Dean frowns up at you from the ground. “When I taught you that, I didn’t expect you to use it on me.”

“Just be happy that I didn’t pepper spray you.” Your eyes narrow.

Maybe I should. It would make me feel better.

“Would have been the highlight of my night.” He stands up from the ground brushing off the front of his clothes with a pointed look.

“Dean what are you still doing here?”

“I want to talk.”

“I’ve said all I need to.”

“But I haven’t.”

“I don’t care. You’ve heard what I need to say and I’m sick of you not listening.”

“Y/n-“

“Fine, I’ll say it one more time, but listen this time. I've never, never depended on anyone else in my life. It's been me, me for a long time.” You poke your finger into his chest to emphasize your point. “Then you just sauntered in and changed everything. You made me care about you, worry about you, and you made me depend on you showing up in my life. Every time you leave it breaks me. Every time I’m in a funk for days. The last time you left, I cried for two days and I didn’t go to any of my classes! I'm trying to be serious about my life. And I can't do that if you show up every few weeks and make me expect something and then leave a few days later and I'm devastated.”

Dean’s eyes widen in surprise. “I didn’t know that.”

“I have to get over you Dean, and I can't do that if you keep showing up. So please just go.” You turn away from him.

His hand comes down on your arm again to turn you back to him. “I don’t want you to get over me.”

“What?”

“Do you think I like leaving you? Do you really think it’s that easy for me?” He looks hurt.

“It certainly seems to be when you walk out after a few days with a smile like it means nothing! Like I mean nothing-“ You fight the tears that burn against your eyes. You wanted to be something for him just as much as he was something for you, but you were afraid. You hadn’t depended on anyone since you graduated and moved away from home. You weren’t used to needing someone in your life this much.

"You mean everything!” Dean shouts grabbing your shoulders. “It’s me that means nothing."

You blink your eyes for a second, not comprehending what he’s trying to say. "Dean what are you talking about?"

"I didn't think you wanted that-" He looks down.

Your eyes trace the slump in his shoulders, the frown on his handsome face, and the way he won’t meet your gaze.

What is he talking about?

You try to think of a time that you’d seen him look so vulnerable, but the only time you imagine was the night you met.

"Wanted what?"

"Me.” Dean’s voice is a whisper.

"I'm confused."

His eyebrows are furrowed, lips pressed into a tight line. “I’m nothing like you.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re a little younger than me and you’re smart and you’ve got this bright future ahead of you. You don’t need someone like me dragging you down-“

“Someone like you? Dragging me down? Dean what are you talking about?" You can't comprehend what he's saying. You reach up to cup his cheeks, but Dean pulls back from you, glancing away.

“I didn’t go to a fancy college, I barely finished high school. I’ve spent most of my life in motel rooms committing credit card fraud and trying not to die. And then I met you. You’re funny and caring and so smart, and I just thought that you would like it more if I came by every once in a while to relieve some tension. I didn’t think that you would want me to stay.”

He didn’t think that I would want him? That can't be right. Dean is so confident usually. You search his face and see the genuine vulnerability behind his green eyes.

“Are you serious?” You ask him.

He doesn’t say anything.

“Dean, you are smart-“

“Not the same way you are”

“Dean.” You can’t help but take his hand. Dean’s green eyes focus on yours for a second, wide and open. “You don’t have to go to college to be smart. You’re resourceful and you know more about supernatural creatures than anyone else. Even the top scientists and doctors in the world don’t believe in them and they went to stuffy old colleges and fight with one another over who’s smarter. I don’t care that you didn’t go to a fancy college. What you do is important, probably more important than what I’m going to do. You protect people, you’ve saved the world more than once, and sure maybe it’s not glamorous to some people but it is to me.”

His eyes widen in surprise.

“Have you thought that maybe I like spending time with you because you’re so different than the people I see everyday?” You ask him softly, squeezing his hand.

“No.” Dean mutters.

“I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I don’t have lavish wealthy parents bankrolling me. My dad is a mechanic. I work two jobs and send him money so I don’t have to worry about him. Sometimes I feel like a fraud. But when you show up I don’t feel like a freak. With you I feel like I don’t have to pretend, I can just be me. And I like you, a lot. This has never just been about relieving tension or sex for me. Ever. I mean it’s nice-“

“Just nice?” Dean raises an eyebrow.

You flush bright red. “I like spending time with you without that too. All the times we spent laying in bed or went to a bar or went to get food, and we talked were equally as wonderful for me. I like talking with you. I like hearing about your life. I just assumed that you had someone in every state that you visit when you’re feeling restless and that you didn’t want a relationship.”

“There’s no one else. Hasn’t been since I met you.”

Deans eyes lock with yours as you comprehend what he just confessed.

“Really?” Your voice is only a whisper.

“Fuck I’m not good at this romantic comedy shit-“ He mutters to himself shaking his head. “I like you too. I wish that I could be here all the time. I hate leaving you. It’s too quiet. When I’m not here all I do is think about you, what you’re doing, how your day was.”

Your entire body explodes with his words, heart beating so fast you think it’ll grow wings and take flight.

“When I was younger I used to laugh at Sam because he wanted a normal life, but with you I understand. You’re so different than anyone I’ve ever met and it hurts me when I’m away from you.” Dean continues with a soft smile that makes you lose all feeling in your legs.

He takes your other hand. “I understand that what you’re doing is important and I’m not asking you to quit school. All I’m asking is that you give me a chance. I want to make this work. I know that long distance isn’t easy, but I want to try.” His eyes search yours, begging for a answer, but you can barely breathe let alone speak. You watch his face fall as he takes your silence as your answer. “But I understand if you don’t want to, because you are worth more. You’re worth more than a few days, than a phone call or a text. You deserve someone who can be here with you all the time. You’re worth more than what I can give you. And you shouldn’t have to settle-“

You grab the front of his flannel because you can’t think of anything to say and pull him down to you for a kiss. Pins and needles trace down your spine as his soft lips move against yours. He smiles against your mouth, folding you into him, his large hand on the small of your back just under your backpack causing warmth to shoot down your spine. You lose yourself in the way his body fits around yours

“I’m not settling.” Your hands cup his cheeks as you look deep into his eyes. “I never want you to feel that way, because you are worth a hundred of any man I have ever met in my life. And if it’s my cross to bear to make you understand that every day of my life, then so be it. Because I would be lucky to spend any amount of time with you. I don’t want anyone else. I just want you, Dean. I’ve wanted you since the day we met and every day after. And I’m yours as long as you want me.”

Dean’s smile breaks open something in the pit of your stomach and goosebumps scorch across your skin. “I can’t imagine not wanting you.” He presses his forehead against yours.

You stand there with his warm hand pressed into your back trying to think of another time that you felt even a fraction of what you feel for him. You think about your high school boyfriend, about a few of the guys you dated in during your undergrad years, but you come up with nothing. Because you can’t compare him to anyone else you’ve ever met. And it hurt you to think that Dean thought so little of himself in the grand scheme of things.

He leans down to kiss you again, pulling you against his chest so tight that everything blissfully falls away.

“Are you hungry?” He whispers against your lips after a minute.

“Yes, but my shift at the library starts soon. I’m there til 2.” You tighten your hands at the back of his neck, not wanting to let him go.

“Okay. I’ll go with you.”

“Dean it’s okay if you just want to go back to my apartment and sleep. I can give you the key-“ You notice the dark circles under his eyes, but you know that Dean wasn’t one to complain about being tired.

“It’s worth being tired if I get to see you.” Dean smiles. “But I’ll go get us some food, because I’m hungry too.”

“Don’t forget the pie.”

“Have I ever?” He brushes his lips to yours one more time, but you don’t remove your arms from around his neck. “You’re going to have to let me go doll.”

“Just 5 more minutes.”

********************************************

You spend the weekend together in your apartment. All those blissful moments together solidify the thought that this is real, that this time it’s going to be different. Every night going to bed with Dean tucking you against him and waking up every morning with your head on his chest feels like a dream, and you never want to wake. Every kiss and intimate moment between you feels like more, and you have to keep reminding yourself that it isn’t just sex, hasn’t ever been just sex. Dean wants to be there with you all the time, hold you close to him and share things with you. And this time you finally understand that you do help him forget and know that you do bring him as much comfort as he brings you.

When Monday comes and Dean has to go, you try not to think of it as the end.

Dean leans back against the door of the Impala, his hands on your hips, green eyes blazing in the sun, but it’s his eyes that warm you more than the sun’s rays.

"Sweetheart-" Dean begins, sensing what you’re thinking. His thumbs rub smooth circles against waist where your t-shirt rests.

"I know." You press your face into his flannel, inhaling the scent you ascribe to Dean. He smells like oil, leather, and the spicy scent of the soap he uses that tickles your nose.

"Hey." His free hand comes under your chin to raise your gaze back to his. "I promise I'm gonna come back. I promise that we're going to make this work. It’s going to be different.” He cups your cheek, eyes soft and understanding.

“I know, but you’re still leaving.” Your tighten your arms around his chest.

“I wish I didn’t have to. But Sam called, he needs me-“

“I know.” You breathe.

You don’t want Dean to feel any worse than he does about leaving, especially when you remember what he said to you a few days ago, about you deserving more and about how he wished he could be more for you. Deep down you know that both of you are determined to make this work, so you put on a smile.

“It’s okay.” You gently rub his back. “You’ll be back in 2 weeks and I’ll be on spring break in a month.”

“Does that mean I’ll get to see you in a bikini?” Dean grins.

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

“Hmm. Well until I see you-“ He raises his right hand from where it rests on your hip to remove the large silver ring from his finger. "Don't panic, it's not an engagement ring." Dean's smile breaks you a little. "Just me promising that I'll come back, that I'll call and text you so much that you'll be sick of me." He slides the ring onto your thumb, the weight comforting.

"I could never be sick of you."

“Just you wait.” He winks, holding your hand to his chest. “I bet I can prove you wrong.”

“I welcome the challenge.”

The kiss goodbye is bittersweet, but you hold yourself together, refusing to cry as Dean gets into his car and leaves. You watch the Impala disappear around the corner, taking your heart with it, but just as it does your phone rings.

“Hello?”

“I miss you.” Dean’s voice fills the line and this time you can’t stop the tears.

“I miss you too.”

“I promise I’ll be back in two weeks.”

“Okay. Please be careful.” You remember all the stories he's told you over the time you’ve known him, all the horrible things that happened to him and Sam. Sometimes you wish he hadn’t, because you can’t help but worry.

“I’m always careful.” You can hear him rolling his eyes.

“As the person who has spent the past 2 years patching you up, I can say with certainty that you are not always careful.”

“Then I promise to be more careful than usual.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” The wind picks up, pulling your hair from the ponytail at the back of your head.

“I’ll call you when I make it back to the bunker.”

“Good.”

“Bye y/n.”

“Bye Dean.”

Your gaze drops to the heavy ring on your thumb and you hold tight to the hope and belief that this time is different, allowing the memories of the past few days to brush away any doubts that threaten the thought of what the future will bring.

********************************************

Thank you so much for reading! I am considering doing a series with this reader and Dean, but let me know what y’all think!

#spn #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #spnfandom #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fluff #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fic #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #soft dean

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ohdeerfully · 2 months

Note

Hi! Can I request Alastor x NonBinary!Reader? Like how would he react/learn about it?

hii sure thing! heres some headcanons! i struggled to write a decent bit because i honestly dont think he would care (or understand) at all, but i hope you like 'em!

Alastor x Nonbinary!Reader

Alastor x Reader (headcanons)

TW: brief mention of transphobia, but nothing upsetting or graphic join my discord!

◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈

Tbh i dont think Alastor really understands the concept of gender outside of male/female

But he would support you either way

Probably finds out through one of the other hotel residents who correct him on a pronoun

Or he saw you looking at your body in the mirror, upset about something

“Why do you look so critically at yourself?”

You hesitated to tell him at first

I mean, he died in the ‘30s. People who died in the modern age are still super transphobic so you were terrified what he would think

You started with explaining how you felt dysphoric sometimes, like things in your body just didn’t fit

He made an awkward comment about how your figure was great, that you were a beautiful (man/woman)

Then you tried to explain how that was the problem, how you didn’t want to be labeled that way

If you prefer to look androgynous, he would actually surprisingly understand the idea. Sort of.

“Ah, like Angel Dust! Not an issue, my dear” obviously referring to the male with feminine features

I mean, kind of. Though you preferred not looking one way or another, you could tell he was trying his best to act like he understood

As an overlord in hell, he’s got much bigger things on his mind than worrying about what gender identity somebody else had. It wasn’t that big of a deal to him

Still, he makes sure those around you respect your identity because he knows it’s important to you. Demons in hell can be unnecessarily cruel, so he will hit them back with equal cruelty, either physically or verbally

Nobody can disrespect his partner like that >:(

Definitely the type to say something like “um excuse me she goes by they/them”

He tries though

if you changed your name, it wouldn't take him long to catch on and kind of just forget your deadname

it isn't uncommon for people in hell to go by a different name, so this wasn't any different

Affirmations go crazy when he notices you feeling particularly bad about your figure

Though, he usually opts to just take you out to get your mind off of it

He’s not the best at comfort, but you appreciate the gesture

Rosie has definitely made fun (polite) comments about you and him being a queer couple, though Alastor doesn’t understand these At All

“Huh :D?” is a general response from him

Again, whether or not he fully understands the concept of gender binaries, he would care for you just the same as before

#ohdeerfully #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #fluff #nonbinary #nonbinary reader #gn reader #alastor headcanons

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wri0thesley · 5 months

Text

famous last words - dottore x reader x dainsleif (9.6k)

you can take care of yourself.

cw: dead dove, do not eat. not sfw, minors dni. non-con, drugging, syringes, mind control. yandere dottore and yandere dainsleif. reader is the traveller and has been travelling with dain. bondage, restraints, misuse of the akasha system, reader is traumatised and taken advantage of by dainsleif after being at dottore's mercy. reader wears a dress and has breasts/a vagina, but is referred to by they/them pronouns. please please heed the warnings.

a/n: please please (i am repeating it!) read the warnings on this one. one of my favourite yandere/dark content tropes is actually 'reader has a horrible experience and then a character who is supposed to take care of them takes advantage of them', and i don't think i've ever written it before, so this was super interesting to write!

this was a commissioned work.

Dainsleif has been on edge since the two of you crossed Sumeru’s borders.

He doesn’t say it out loud - you have learnt, over the time the two of you have spent travelling together, that Dainsleif is a man of very few words even at the best of times - but you know his small quirks and foibles well enough now that you sense it. It’s in the set of his shoulders and the line of his mouth, the way his eyes are constantly darting about wherever you go.

It’s somewhat in the way he walks closer to you, his height casting a shadow over your own, as if he can protect you merely by being near you. It makes a muscle in your jaw twitch - you are grateful for his care, of course, but surely he knows by now that you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself? You have gotten used to the feeling of a sword in your hand over your search for your twin - you have made a name for yourself in every nation you’ve traversed, and only some of the time has Dainsleif been by your side.

You suppose that the newfound relationship between the two of you is clouding his judgement somewhat too--

Well.

‘Relationship’ might be too strong of a word.

Dainsleif is hesitant with you even now; checks with you, twice and three times, before he so much as touches your shoulder. But you hope you have made it clear he does not need to, with the way you have let your hand entangle with his and the way you have smiled at him when nobody else is looking, the soft confessions to him at camp overnight that he’s one of only two people in this world you would trust whole-heartedly . . .

All of that, perhaps, has made Dain even more protective over you than he was before, despite the truth of the matter being that you are almost equal in swordsmanship and combat ability. And he’s said enough to you, too, that you understand his hesitance. Other people he has loved have been taken from him - a whole nation, in fact. Dain has had to struggle on for years all alone, and walls built over such a long time do not crumble so easily--

But still. You wish he would not fret so when you walk away from him in Sumeru City to investigate an interesting looking fruit and to ask the stallholder some questions about their wares.

You’re startled out of your reverie - handling the Zaytun peaches that lay in plump piles in round baskets upon this particular stall - by Dain murmuring your name. He has attracted some attention - he is tall and handsome and blond, an air of mystery and exoticism emanating off of him - but he is unaware of the giggles behind other people’s hands, his gaze set firmly on you.

He has always been like that - those piercing blue eyes, even through his mask-like patch - never fail to make you feel as though you are the only person in the world. You have woken up in the night at camp plenty of times, too, and felt safe in the knowledge that Dainsleif is there and his gaze will not falter.

You toss some Mora to the stallholder and turn to Dainsleif, proffering one of the peaches to him. He takes it like a precious treasure.

“Is something wrong?” You ask him, before you take a bite. His brow is furrowed - you sense something brewing in the wind. A kind of unease that lies hot and heavy in the humid Sumeru air. Dain sighs softly.

“I have some things I must do,” he says to you, his voice soft and low. “I don’t want to leave you alone, but . . .”

“I’ll be fine,” you tell him, smiling. You wonder what it is that he does not want to take you along with, but you do not push - Dainsleif will tell you in his own time, you are sure. You have no desire to push him too far when his hope seems such a fragile thing still. “I’ll meet you tonight, here?”

His shoulders untense, just a touch.

“Will you stay in the City?” He asks you, and you laugh.

“Dain,” you say, smiling, just a touch of reproach in your voice. “I can take care of myself, you know! Go and do what you need to do. I will be absolutely fine. You know that! When have I not been?”

Dain does not look entirely convinced, but whatever it is that he has a need to do has a hold on him - he looks at you with those serious, piercing eyes and takes your hand. Your cheeks go hot all over as he bends to press a chivalrous kiss upon the back of it. The crowd of admirers that Dain has amassed are all atwitter over this - you cannot blame them. If you’d seen it happen to someone else you’re sure you’d be swooning. Even now, your heart is beating a double time march against your ribcage as you wonder how you got so lucky.

“You promise me?” He asks. You can sense he is barely holding back the urgency in his voice; anxiety that tugs at the syllables like it is weighing them down. This errand he has to run . . . your curiosity runs rampant at what it might be that it is so clearly important to him.

“I promise I’ll be more than fine,” you say to him, smiling. There is the slightest snick of irritation, in the back of your mind - have you not fought dragons? Have you not befriended Archons? His concern is sweet, but he does not need to fret about you so. You say to him, trying to make sure your voice is as reasonable and convincing as possible; “You don’t have to worry about me.”

As it turns out, this proclamation will come back to haunt you.

They will become what are referred to in some places as ‘famous last words’.

You notice the earpieces that the Sumeru citizens wear as you wander around; when you ask someone about it, they look baffled as to your own lack of them.

“Usually you’re given one when you come into the city,” the young woman explains, as she kindly guides you back towards the entrance of Sumeru City. This explains it; Dainsleif always prefers to take the least populated way into anywhere, and most of the time you are happy to agree with him. Your exploits across Teyvat so far have occasionally resulted in some notoriety that isn’t always conducive to exploring new nations; you’re not surprised that Dainsleif had avoided the grand entrance of Sumeru City proper. Still, you’re beaming as the young woman brazenly walks up to one of the men standing at the entrance greeting newcomers.

He has dark hair and a moustache, and is wearing the robes that you recognise as marking him out as a member of the Sumeru Akademiya; as the young woman explains that you two are without the devices - she calls them an ‘Akasha’ - you smile at him, as bright and hopeful and friendly as you can manage.

He nods thoughtfully, and raises a hand to his own Akasha system.

“Just a moment,” he tells you, “I’m scanning the system for any information on you - just to ensure we don’t go around letting in criminals, you see?”

As he does that, you ask a few more questions of the young woman - what it is that the Akasha system does, and whether your . . . unusual physiology (a far easier way to explain it, you’ve surmised over weeks of practise, than explaining that you are a traveller from beyond the realms of Teyvat) will effect it in any way. She is effluent with her praise - the Akasha, she tells you with a wide smile and genuine pride in her voice, has truly revolutionised what it is like to be a citizen of Sumeru.

“This is unusual,” the man says, finally taking his hand from the complicated earpiece of the Akasha system. “I’m terribly sorry, but . . .”

“Is everything alright?”

You hadn’t wanted to mention it, of course - but you’d been afraid when he’d said he was scanning for information on you. Though you have mostly made peace with the nations you’ve travelled through, there have been plenty of misunderstandings too - and there are an unfortunate amount of activities that may be considered criminal in your past. Your heart beats just a little too quickly, as you carry on smiling and hope that your nervousness isn’t written too plain on your face.

You’d hate to get yourself into trouble after promising Dainsleif you would be absolutely fine on your own.

“I’m sure there’s no problem at all,” the man assures you, as he tries to return your smile. “It’s simply that we do have a record of you - oh, please don’t worry, it doesn’t name you as a wanted criminal or some such thing! It merely asks that you be shown to the Akademiya to meet with one of our trusted scholars, if you are to set foot in Sumeru City.”

This sounds a little more understandable, you think, as you let loose a small sigh of relief. Your reputation precedes you in several places - and this scholar would be far from the first person who has sought your help with matters. It’s strange that they couldn’t manage it alone with all of the resources of Sumeru behind them, but you are not in a position to judge.

“Is it just me?” You ask. “I usually travel with another man, a different blond--”

He checks, the vine-like contraption of the Akasha pulsing over his ear, but then he shakes his head.

“No,” he says, as he offers you his arm. “The only information we have is on you.” Another smile, clearly meant to reassure. “I really did mean it about not worrying; if you were a danger, I’m certain that this would not all be so civil. Sumeru maintains several forces of Eremite mercenaries to keep the peace, and the Akademiya itself has the Matra . . . If you were about to be in trouble, there would be far more of a guard than simply me.”

You still consider running. You let your eyes flash over the surrounding area to map out all possible escape routes, to see who you might have to fight if you need to - but in the end, you take the proffered arm. No matter how much Dainsleif might want you to lie low and not attract attention, you can’t help thinking that causing a scene like that would be far worse than going along with whatever it is you’re wanted for up in the Akademiya.

You do not know it at the time, but it turns out to be just another decision that will come back to bite you.

As the two of you walk, Panah - that is the man’s name, you find out - sends a message up to the Akademiya proper via the system, to let them know that the two of you are coming. He seems almost giddy when he is done, a smile playing beneath the moustache.

“I was permitted to speak to him myself,” he says, and you gather from the excitement in his voice that whatever man it is you’re about to meet occupies a place of high honour within the walls of the Akademiya. You’re impressed by the technology; you can’t help thinking how useful it would be, if you and Dainsleif had such a way to communicate when you were apart.

He’s not going to be happy about all of this - but with any luck, this will be a quick thing for you to deal with and you’ll be able to rake in some glory and reputation in Sumeru so the two of you don’t have to worry so much on your journey. A lost dog, perhaps. A band of Treasure Hoarders who need to be taken out--

If you had one of those Akasha systems, you think, you wouldn’t need to be trailing up all of these steps. You bring this up to Panah, and he laughs, still riding a high from speaking to whoever it was he was permitted to speak to.

“Ah, don’t worry about that! You’re going to be very lucky - he told me he even has an Akasha terminal set aside especially for you, with a couple of brand new features he’s been wanting to test out--”

Later on, you’ll curse yourself for these words not setting alarm bells off in your head. But right then, under the bright Sumeru sun and with the freedom of a day in Sumeru without Dain’s occasionally too protective presence, you just laugh brightly and daydream about the knowledge your very own Akasha will place at your fingertips.

There’s a little bit of pomp and ceremony when you make it to the Akademiya proper; the other staff members and workers and students who have been assigned to help you are all excited and chattering as they wave Panah off and begin to lead you into the labyrinthine halls. It’s a beautiful building, to be sure - but it’s deceptively large, and after going through lifts and corridors and being taken through door after door you begin to lose sense of where exactly it is you are. You feel a brief flare of panic inside; you much prefer to be in places where you have an idea of how to escape, should the need arise--

But everyone around you remains excited about the great scholar you’re about to meet, and their smiles and pats and their wistful proclamations about how lucky you are serve to soothe the fear, just a little.

“Here we are,” says one of them, stopping outside a great wooden door with a complicated series of locks on it; some of them are easy to understand (you know what a padlock looks like, after all), but others seem to be rather more high-tech than you’re used to. Whatever it is behind this door, you think, it must either be very important or very expensive. “Oh! We have your Akasha terminal--”

He reaches into the folds of his robe to produce one of the vine-like contraptions that everyone in Sumeru wears on their ears.

“This one was designed by him specifically,” the man tells you in awe, as he reaches over and affixes it onto your ear. “It has a few brand new functions that he wants help testing out, and he said that your experience would be a huge boon in working out all of the kinks--”

Ah. So that’s what he wanted your help with. You wonder which of your exploits it is that has made this scholar think you’d be a good fit for this kind of testing; you wonder, too, why Dainsleif wasn’t included in this idea. The two of you have done so much together, after all--

You feel a brief electric zap that seems to flash over your vision and down to your spine. A little noise in your ear, a sense of heat that lasts barely a moment - and then, the man is stepping away from you and giving a strange little bow.

“It’s working, I think,” he says, as he reaches into his pocket to turn a key, swipe a card, as his own Akasha pulses to life and some of the locks upon the door respond in kind. “Ah - I’m afraid we’ll be leaving you. His temperament can be a little unpredictable, and I’m sure he’d rather meet you alone--”

“That’s alright,” you say, smiling. You wonder what kind of brand new functions this Akasha system is going to have; perhaps something for combat capabilities? Wilderness scanning, to be able to identify poisonous herbs and dangerous animals? The big wooden door slowly creaks open, as the entourage who have guided you into the bowels of the Akademiya all disperse, leaving you alone.

“Come in,” calls a voice.

The voice is familiar; somewhere, in the back of your mind, you know that you recognise it. A kind of low, smooth drawl of a voice, that shivers with suggestion as it calls out to you. But it is not enough to deter you, now you’ve made it all the way here.

You step into the room, walking further and further into it to see that it’s a . . . workshop, of some sort. There are a few tables scattered with various tools, deconstructed machinery lolling on the floor and propped against walls. There are a couple of remains of Ruin Guards, but in Sumeru this is hardly a surprising sight--

The door slams closed behind you. You hear the click and the whirr of the locks resetting themselves, trapping you in here, but even then you still do not panic just yet. You are in the Sumeru Akademiya, after all - what horror could possibly befall you at the hands of someone so well-regarded, in such a beacon of wisdom and hope in the nation?

That’s when you spot the bed in the middle of the room.

Sterile white sheets, white metal frame, restraints at the head and at the feet. An IV standing proudly beside it; a table to one side that is scattered with, instead of tools and screwdrivers, medical equipment. Needles and scalpels and pill bottles. Your throat goes dry.

“Ah,” there’s that voice again, and out of the shadows steps a figure. Your brain snaps into action sickeningly quickly; this is indeed a man you recognise. This figure, in his doctor’s coat and long boots, with his hair falling over a masked face-- “You’re just as lovely as I remembered you.”

You crouch, your body primed, your position ready to jump to attention at any moment. You reach behind you to will your sword into your hand - if you incapacitate Dottore quickly enough, perhaps you can knock him out whilst you search his workshop for tools to help you break the locks--

“Oh, my,” he says. “Such an unwelcome reception, my dear. Still. That won’t be for long.”

“Open the door,” you snarl, through gritted teeth. “Let me out, and I won’t ram my blade through your throat.”

He smiles beneath the mask, the tilt of his lips almost fond.

“There’s that lovely fire,” he says to you, in a pleased purr. “Oh, I’ve been waiting for you for what seems like forever.”

“I’m warning you--” Your fingers wrap around the hilt of your sword. Your breath comes short; your heart pounds.

You do not truly know if you could take Dottore in a fight - he is ranked second of the Harbingers, after all, and you do not think such a position would be granted without some combat capability. But you have to hold fast to your hope - and without Dainsleif here, all you have to rely on is your own skills. What might happen if he does overpower you doesn’t bear thinking about--

(You’d noticed, the last time the two of you had met, the way his gaze behind the mask had lingered on the shape of your body. The way he had spoken silky smooth, shivering with intent, when he had addressed you. The way his leather gloved hands had felt, on your shoulders, lingering there as if they wished they could be somewhere else--)

“Ah, ah,” he clicks his tongue, chiding. “Now, darling. That won’t do at all.”

You realise too late that the Doctor himself is not wearing an Akasha system earpiece - but you are.

And as you feel it pulse into life, as bright colours flash against your vision and you stumble, your sword slipping through your fingers . . .

Everything goes black.

“Now,” Dottore’s voice cuts through the blackness, as everything seems to slowly fall back into place like a jigsaw puzzle being re-assembled. “This might hurt a touch. Just a sharp scratch, my dear--”

You’ve been strapped onto the medical bed, just as you had feared. The straps are wrapped around your ankles and your wrists, binding you spread-eagle upon the thin little mattress. You can still feel the vines of the Akasha system wrapped around your ear, and your throat clogs with the fear of it - if it could knock you out stone cold, what else could it do? Your eyes flutter open, and Dottore pauses--

He’s leaning over you with a syringe in his hand, the liquid within glowing with the same blue glow as the earring he wears. As he sees that you’re awake, his mouth opens into a wide smile with just a hint of too sharp teeth.

“Oh!” He exclaims in delight. “You’re finally awake! My, you’ve missed quite the little drama.”

He carefully places the syringe down upon the metal table as he reaches over you and fiddles with some kind of control on the side of the bed. Slowly, it creaks upwards, propping you up a little so you are bent at the waist.

“That’s better,” Dottore coos. “Now we can all see one another. Look, darling. Your knight in shining armour.”

Dainsleif.

How long have you been out cold? How easy was it for Dottore to strap you onto this operating table - how deeply did the Akasha knock you out?

Long enough for Dain to realise you were missing. Long enough for him to track you down - long enough for he, too, to be overpowered by the second Harbinger and find himself entirely at the Doctor’s mercy.

Your travelling companion sits across from the bed you are restrained upon, ropes tied around his broad chest to keep him lashed to a rusted metal chair. A gag has been crudely shoved into his mouth so all he can do is make a soft little distressed noise at the predicament you have found himself in; more ropes bind his ankles to each leg of the chair, just to ensure that he’s fully unable to so much as wriggle in his bindings. He stares at you, agonised.

“We’ve been talking about everything I’m going to do to you,” Dottore hums - and something hot and sour crawls into your throat as he leans over, and his leather gloves caress your face like a lover and not like a madman. “Ah, sweet little traveller . . . I’ve barely been able to wait to get my hands on you. A pretty face like that, and that fighting spirit . . . Ah! You stick in a man’s mind.” His smile is just as wide and unhinged as ever as he taps your cheek fondly. “I don’t think your poor knight is going to enjoy it, but . . . well. I’m sure you will.”

You struggle in the bonds, as your strength returns to you. You try and use your not inconsiderable strength to see if you can loosen the leather around your wrists, as fear of the undercurrent of desire in Dottore’s words and anger at Dainsleif finding you like this and worry about Dain himself all war at once within you like a churning whirlpool.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you seethe at Dottore, tugging hard. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but it would be better for everyone if you just let me go now, and we can pretend none of this happened--”

Dottore throws his head back and laughs.

“Oh,” he practically purrs at you. “You’re so lovely when you’re enraged. But . . . ah. No, I don’t think I shall. Now, my dear. How shall we start? A kiss, perhaps? Your lips have been haunting my dreams recently--”

“I’ll bite your tongue off,” you snarl, and though you cannot see Dottore’s eyes you can tell from the way that his face moves that he has raised his eyebrows. He lets out a low, silky chuckle.

“Ah. So that’s how it’s going to be. Well, if so . . .”

He reaches back over to the metal table, and in his hands now he lifts the syringe once more. He taps the barrel of glowing blue liquid once, twice, that infuriatingly calm and smooth smile returning to his face.

“This won’t knock you out,” he tells you. “I want you to be aware of everything we do together, darling, so you remember how good it makes you feel . . . how much we belong together. But it shall . . . how should I put this? Take a bit of the edge out of you.” He leans in; finding the crook of your elbow, thumb smoothing softly and almost lovingly over the patch of skin. “I’d hate for all of your fire to go missing, but . . . perhaps we should at least dull your teeth a little, hmm?”

Dainsleif makes some awful noise; a whimper crossed with a moan, a kind of noise you’ve never heard the stoic Twilight Sword make before, as the needle sinks into your skin with a sharp scratch. Panic flares in your mind white hot at whatever kind of concoction is being injected directly into your veins--

But the panic quickly dulls, as you feel the drug beginning to take effect.

It adds a muzzy kind of quality to everything. You see Dottore and Dain before you - the Doctor smiling, Dain agonised behind his patch and gag and rope. You know that there is something terribly wrong with this scene, but your mind is too hazy to pull up the specifics. You go to open your mouth and put word to a question, but nothing comes out - your tongue is too heavy, your teeth feeling as though they’re in the wrong place in your mouth.

“Oh, lovely,” says Dottore with relish. “My, you took to that sedative better than even I hoped you would! Sweet dear thing, will you let me kiss you now?”

You know, in that hazy mess of your mind, that you do not want this man to kiss you - but as he leans forward, you cannot remember why. You cannot make your tongue move to say no, and before you know it a pair of lips have firmly pressed to your own, tasting of the smell of antiseptic and peppermint. Dottore kisses you as thoroughly as he does everything else - his mouth working against yours, sharp teeth tugging at your lower lip, his tongue slipping into your mouth and laying claim to the shape of it as if he is an explorer mapping out newly conquered territory.

From somewhere that seems very far away, you hear another angry noise, half groan and half moan.

Dottore pulls back, his tongue tracing his lips as if he’s savouring the taste of you left on them.

“Even better than I imagined,” he murmurs. “But . . . ah, my dear, don’t you want to kiss me back?”

There’s a pulse by your ear. Your mind short-circuits - and then Dottore is leaning in again for another kiss, and without you sending a single signal to your body you are kissing Dottore back, your mouth working against his, your tongues twining with one another as if possessed by an unknown force. Dottore groans into your mouth, at the same time as one of his gloved hands comes to land on your thigh, bare beneath your skirt.

You realise dully that it is the Akasha, taking control of your body; doing exactly what Dottore tells you to do.

If you hadn’t been drugged with the sedative that the Doctor had used, perhaps this realisation would make horror rise in you - it clearly does in Dainsleif, who struggles desperately against his bonds. But to you, in your current state . . . it is merely a realisation that washes over you like a cool stream. An inevitability.

“Ah,” Dottore says, and he smiles something horrific and tender down at you. “We’re going to enjoy ourselves, aren’t we?”

Those gloved fingers slide higher and higher up your thigh, the touch remaining soft. You think it would be better if he started pawing at you like an animal; if he ripped and tore at your clothes. Something about the softness of how his thumb moves over your inner thigh, the soft untouched skin there - something about the gentle way his thumb brushes over your underwear . . . that feels a hundred times worse than you could ever imagine.

He sighs in pleasure. All you can do is lay there and take it; your wrists and ankles bound, your entire body prone, your veins numbed with sedatives. Your eyes seek out Dain’s across the room - and he looks at you, so broken that you think you will cry.

Dottore’s other hand reaches up to the catches down the side of your dress. They are there to make it easier to dress yourself - catches and buttons up your spine are not helpful when you are alone or injured, and since you have found yourself in Teyvat you have been both of those things more often than you’d like to have - but you curse them, now, as Dottore’s other hand gently (oh-so-gently) peels them from your body and you are almost bare before him. Your nipples pebble in the cool air; your cheeks flush hot at how he tilts his head to look down at you.

If you could see his eyes, what would you see written in them?

“Oh,” Dottore is quiet when he speaks; appreciation dripping off every syllable. He moves his other hand away from where he’s been constantly petting at your sex through your underwear in order to turn all of his attention to your newly bared chest; you feel the hot flush across your collarbones at the sheer admiration that seems to ghost every movement. “You’re even more lovely than I could have thought.”

His leather-clad palms reach down, taking a handful of the soft curve of your chest; squeezing the half-globes in his hand, sighing happily at how they fit in his grip. His thumb and forefinger find the nub of your nipples, pinching one each until they stiffen and pucker beneath the attention and you squirm, a hot little bolt of lightning going straight from the place Dottore is pinching to the place between your thighs.

“You like that?” He murmurs, not missing the way you shudder beneath the attention. “Ah, sweet thing - has your knight not done this for you? Have you been saving yourself for me?”

Again, you can’t make your tongue form words; all you can do is let out a little whimpering moan of a noise that makes Dottore chuckle. It sounds far too close to affirmation for your liking, but what can you really do, as Dottore continues to pinch and pluck at your nipples and the warm zaps of pleasure and excitement continue to run hot in your veins?

You can hear the way your breath is starting to come out in little pants; how it shudders in the air, heat coalescing between the bots of you as Dottore’s insistent pinches further cloud your mind. You can’t help the noise that falls from your mouth as he bends his head and applies his tongue just so upon one of the buds; as it swirls around it, suckling the nipple into his mouth, lathing it with attention that makes your back arch involuntarily.

Dainsleif, still bound across the room, fights against the ropes once again and lets out a muffled noise of anger; words caught in the gag, vitriol spewed at the Doctor as he does whatever he wants to with your body. It is all for nothing, though.

Dottore’s thumbs are hooking into your underwear. The thin cotton tears at the seams at only the flimsiest tug from the second ranked Harbinger, and then Dottore is looking down at your spread thighs and the folds of your sex on display for him and cooing at you so sweetly that it cloys.

“Oh, darling,” he says to you. “You’re this wet for me?”

It’s not fair.

Frustrated tears rise to your eyes. In your current state, drugged and confused, under all of Dottore’s touches . . . your body has betrayed you. You know you’re wet; you can feel your own slick, oozing out of you, your folds wet with droplets of arousal. Desire to be touched warring with disgust for the man before you inside of you - frustration that you cannot so much as speak to put voice to your anger. Not even to beg him to stop.

Hand on your thigh. Two fingers, deftly parting the lips of your labia so cool air hits the sensitive inner folds; the swollen bud of your clit, waiting to be touched, thrumming with excitement. A whine catches in your throat at the sensation of being studied like this; the way that Dottore is looking down at you like a wolf about to thoroughly enjoy his meal.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, again. “So much lovelier in the flesh.” He turns his head without turning his body, catching Dainsleif’s gaze. “Look, Twilight Sword. Ah. Don’t you wish you were in my position now? Aren’t you simply longing to have your wicked way with our sweet little Traveller?”

Dain struggles desperately, the muscles of his shoulders flexing, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth working at the gag firmly pressed within it. You know that he wants to help you; that Dain would tear Dottore limb for limb for what he is clearly about to do to you, if only he could get himself free.

But, too, there’s something in his eye that you do not want to admit to.

Shining bright behind the agonised blue is a palpable lust; a desire to be in Dottore’s place. You know that Dain would never hurt you - would never strap you to a table and use you against your will, you’re sure of it - but that look in his eyes makes you shiver.

“Don’t worry,” Dottore assures him, turning back to you with that wicked smile on his face. “I’ll make sure you get to watch.”

He eases the way his fingers are keeping you spread apart in order to be able to slowly slide his index finger through the valley of your sex; to wet his glove on all of the slick, to let it gather on his fingertip. He raises that gloved finger to his mouth, tongue darting out to taste you as he tilts his chin back to savour it.

“Ah,” he says, as he tugs his glove off with his teeth. “Forgive me, my dear - I simply must feel you without them.”

His fingertips feel just as cold, as he touches you with them instead of the gloves. Your back arches again, though your own restraints keep you on the bed and stop you from being able to wriggle away from Dottore’s questing fingers even if the sedative hadn’t filled your limbs with honey.

Dottore lets out a soft chuckle at the way your body moves, another chiding click of his tongue.

“Breathe out,” he advises you, as his finger circles your entrance, as his thumb finds the swollen pearl of your clit and begins to draw slow, firm circles over it. “It will make it easier, sweet thing--”

One of his fingers swiftly presses inside of you, punching the air out of your chest. You hate it, you think - you hate the feel of his slender digits pressing further and further inside of you, the feel of him crooking his knuckle just so that the bone rubs against a spot inside of you that makes you see stars--

It feels good, too. You don’t want it to. You don’t like how the feeling of him inside of you seems to satiate an ache that had started when he had rubbed over the seam of your underwear and kissed you and toyed with your chest. You don’t like that, as a second finger rubs around your entrance in preparation to be put inside of you, your breath catches in excitement at the thought of being stretched further.

“That’s right,” Dottore is murmuring, his own voice a little breathless now as excitement leaks into his tone. “Oh, you’re doing so well, lovely thing. Ah-- you have no idea how good you feel. Like silk . . . Thinking about doing this to you doesn’t at all measure up to the real thing.”

The thought of Dottore having these thoughts about you makes your heart twist. You close your eyes, just so you don’t have to see Dainsleif sitting across from you, watching you with agonised eyes as Dottore’s fingers make you feel a way you didn’t know you could.

A few more months and perhaps you would have imagined Dain himself doing this to you - something more intimate than the shy, awkward kisses the two of you have so far shared, as Dainsleif silently agonises and worries about his body being tainted and his curse ruining everything that shimmers between the two of you like fragile gossamer. Perhaps then, it would have been slow and careful - Dain waiting for you to give the go-ahead, letting you lead . . .

That choice has been taken from you, now, as two of Dottore’s fingers scissor inside of you to open you up wide and his thumb continues to rub over your clit in firm, sure circles. The way that Dottore touches you would almost be clinical - designed solely to make you feel good, to prepare you for the inevitable stretch of his cock, to make sure that your slickness would provide adequate lubrication for the glide of the same - were it not for the bright mania that fills his grin as he stares down at you, watching your sex swallow his fingers with every wet, slick pump of his wrist.

That is the look of a man very much enjoying what he’s doing to you.

“Sweet Traveller,” he murmurs, low and cajoling. “I think you’re going to come for me.”

You have just enough control of your body to toss your head weakly, shaking it from side to side, your hair falling over your face. It does not hide the fact that your cheeks are flushed and your eyes are bright, that your chest is heaving as every rub of his fingers sends brand new sparks of pleasure careening to the middle of your stomach into a hot, tight ball.

“Oh,” Dottore’s voice is laced with faux sympathy. “That wasn’t me asking, darling. Come for me.”

Another zing; a zap, a pulse, where the Akasha terminal is wrapped about your ear--

And your body twitches and pulses under his command, as the hot tight ball of want inside of you seems to get a signal from the terminal that now is the time to explode. You don’t know how to explain it; the way that your mind seems to contract at the same time as your body, and then you are panting and whining helplessly as shivers rack you underneath Dottore’s twisting wrist, his insistent thumb.

He lets out a sigh of pleasure as he pulls back, his fingers glimmering wetly with your own orgasm. Again, he lifts them to his mouth; again, you see a sharp flash of teeth as his tongue traces his own digits and he savours the way you taste on his tongue.

“That’s more than enough,” he says, pleasantly. He looks at Dainsleif, the blond all wide-eyed and desperate and seething with hatred, and gives him another smile that is like the edge of a knife. “Don’t you think so, knight? Ah. Don’t you think it’s time for me to take them fully?”

Dainsleif struggles again, and Dottore laughs like a creaked, rusting hinge on a sharp iron gate.

“I don’t want to hurt them,” he says, syrupy sweet. “Oh, they mean more to me than that. I merely want them to understand how badly I need them . . . and how good I could be for them, too.”

The sedatives in your system do not allow you to fight back; to bare your teeth and growl and tell him you could never imagine how he could possibly be good for you. But though your mind churns with these thoughts, your body is still not quick enough to respond - your veins still weighed down with honey. Too tenderly, Dottore reaches for your face; traces his thumb over your cheekbone.

“We are going to consummate our mutual adoration,” he tells you, and he reaches for his fly. You hear the buttons of his placket undo as if you are somewhere very far away, button sliding through button hole. Dottore sighs happily as he repositions the table and himself, making sure that Dainsleif has an even better view of the way that he slots himself between your thighs. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel Dottore’s cock slap against the bare skin; the wet, slick head of him, as he rubs it over your own soft inner thighs. You burn with humiliation, as the wet pap of him slapping the cockhead against your cunt echoes in Dottore’s workshop, and the Doctor keeps smiling as if he’s enjoying himself terribly.

“How about,” he says, loud enough for Dainsleif to hear it, “before we begin, you tell me what I want to hear, Traveller?”

You blink at him slowly, as he pushes his hips forward, and the head of his cock catches on the ring of your entrance; as your body clenches and puckers, waiting for him to move further forward. You wish he would just get on with it, but at the same time you wish that this wouldn’t happen. If you were fully in control of your body, you’re certain you would be struggling and sobbing and spitting - but you are not.

“Oh,” he murmurs, syrupy sweet. “You don’t know what I mean? Darling, let me say it a little simpler whilst you’re still all addled from me making you come . . . Loud enough for the Twilight Sword to hear, now. Why don’t you tell me you love me?”

You could hear a pin drop in the silence.

It’s not really silent; there’s a buzzing in your ears, there’s a constant hum from the machinery that surrounds you both, there’s the sound of three people breathing within the room, panting and seething and hating . . . but that’s how it feels.

You would never tell this monster you loved him.

But Dottore is still looking at you, his cock still pressing against your entrance, his head still tilted to one side, his mouth still quirked in a smile - and there’s an eager kind of obsession in his gaze, as if he thinks you might actually get the words out--

The pulsing in your ear. The flash across your brain. You can’t breathe; you can’t think, through anything but the sudden desire to tell the Doctor who’s about to ruin you that you love him.

Your tongue is slow. Heavy. Your voice echoes too loud around the room.

“Doctor . . .” Dainsleif lets out a pained whine behind the gag. “I-- I love you--”

“Oh, good-- well done--!”

Dottore pants in wild pleasure at the sound of your voice, the way it sounds desperate and reedy not with hate, but with feeling. He cants his hips forward, still too wild - and your head falls back, a whine escaping your slow-tongued mouth as his entire cock sheaths itself inside of you in excitement.

It’s easier to close your eyes.

You do not want to see Dainsleif, over Dottore’s shoulder - the disappointment and horror and despair that’s written clear across his handsome face. He must have seen the Akasha pulse, he must know that you would never say such a thing of your own volition - but that doesn’t stop the fact that you did say it, and he did hear it. Eyes squeezed shut, the feel of him inside you is all the worse; the way you can sense your body tightening around him, the feel of being stretched wider than you’ve been stretched before.

Dottore’s pants do not let up; there’s a desperation in him that you would never have thought the Doctor possible of - bringing a horrifying kind of truth to all of those things he had said, all of the ways he had stared at you. Perhaps it is more than just lust--

And that makes it all the worse.

His hips judder against yours in desperation, his white coat rustling as it rubs against your own bare body. One of his hands explores your chest, even as he keeps rutting into you; thumbs pinching at your nipples, palming at your hips and your waist and your chest, as if he cannot truly believe this is happening.

He is undone, like this; and you cannot quite believe he is letting you see some of those walls fall down. There is no more the strong, smooth Doctor - the one who could raze cities to the ground if he so chose. There is a man; a man who is fucking into you, a man who wants to have as much of your body as he can, a man who seems to want to devour you.

You cannot believe he made you say that you love him. The Akasha upon your ear feels like a parasite, worming its way into your psyche, taking complete control of you. You think of Dainsleif, forced to watch, and a juddering sob manages to tear itself from your throat.

Dottore kisses your cheek, the tears catching on his lips, his tongue tracing the saltwater tracks.

“Don’t fret so, darling,” Dottore murmurs, against the apple of your cheek. “It’s alright . . . Doesn’t it feel good?”

It doesn’t - and it does. You don’t want to admit to the way that his constant thrusting and the grinding of his pelvis against your still-swollen clit are working together to make your insides churn, your body feverishly hot and confused. Your breath comes out in pants that match Dottore’s own. You can’t come for him again, you simply can’t - it doesn’t matter, you try and tell yourself, that there is heat bursting anew in your stomach. That it is not really because of Dottore, but natural biology--

You came earlier, yes, but Dottore told you to; used the Akasha against you. If you came now, without him forcing you to, it does not bear to think about - it doesn’t bear to think about how Dain might react, if he watched you come of your own volition under Dottore’s fucking--

No matter how sternly you try to speak to yourself, one cannot stop biology in its tracks.

Dottore’s pelvis batters against your clit; Dottore’s cock bullies itself mercilessly into you, as if it is trying to make you mould to the shape of him. With each thrust, it rubs against spots inside of you that your own fingers have never been able to reach; ones you had never realised would feel so good. You try and tell yourself, over and over and over, that you will not let yourself come for Dottore.

But your body betrays you.

Your body betrays both yourself and Dain, a man who you had always thought would be the only one to ever do this to you, though you had not let your fantasies yet get further than a hand over your dress, skimming your bare thigh. You come for the second Fatui Harbinger, as he continues to fuck into you with wild abandon - and this time, you do not even have the Akasha to blame it upon.

Your wrists are still held either side of your head by restraints; all you can do, as the spasms of pleasure resonate out from your sex and into every other part of you, is dig your nails into your palms. All you can do is let out a heavy, slurred whine-moan escape from your parted lips. All you can do is take it - come for the Doctor, the way he always knew you were going to.

“Fuck,” he growls, and his hips double their speed, desperately rutting into you. “I didn’t even have to tell you to, that time - you want me just as badly, don’t you? Oh, sweet thing, don’t worry, I’ll give you everything I have--”

His words are slurred too; he is too far gone within the euphoria of finally being inside of you. His hips rock into you, harder and harder, his cock twitching wildly as he hisses out your name.

He comes inside of you with a wild bite into your bare shoulder, grunting and groaning, more animal than scientist - proof that, beneath it all, he is just a man. He remains there, humming into your skin, his cock softening inside of you. His tongue licks across the bite on your shoulder as if he wants to remember the taste of you.

“Why,” he says, a pleased hum in the back of his throat. His cock twitches. “I think I might even do that again--”

There’s a knock on the door.

You are still too out of it after what Dottore did to you to register much beyond his frustration that he is being called back to Snezhnaya, now of all times. An awkward assistant, unsure of what they’re supposed to be doing, lingers by Dottore’s side as the Doctor grumbles under his breath and pulls your clothes back on over your bruised body, his come still leaking out from between your thighs.

“I’ll see you again,” Dottore says to you, with a smile, as he brandishes another syringe. “Oh, I won’t be forgetting about how much we shared any time soon, darling. You’ll keep me warm many a cold Snezhnayan night.”

The syringe is brought up to your elbow; the liquid injected directly into the vein once again. You barely have time to wonder what he is injecting you with this time before the heaviness of unconsciousness begins to blur the corners of your vision.

Dottore strides across the room to Dainsleif, another syringe glowing within his gloved fingers.

Before you slip into oblivion, you watch Dottore roll up Dainsleif’s sleeve, and you hear him say this;

“Now, I’m sending them back with you, Knight - but you won’t soon forget, will you, that they told me that they loved me?”

You slip into the abyss.

You wake back up at the camp you and Dainsleif had established, on the edges of Sumeru, as safe as the two of you could find - as if absolutely nothing has happened.

Oh, there’s the lingering reminder of Dottore - there’s a soreness to your thighs, there are bites on your shoulders, there’s a muzzy headache from the drugs and the way he had used the Akasha upon you . . . but other than that, there’s nothing. The system itself isn’t even attached to your ear any longer.

Dain, too, has reminders of the ordeal upon him - rope burn on his wrists. A burning look in his eyes when his gaze falls upon you that makes your insides crawl in fear, lest he be disgusted by you now - lest he never want to look at you again. Perhaps, you think wildly, he is going to cast you away - say that the two of you can no longer travel together, accuse you of being damaged goods . . .

It does not end that way.

Dainsleif stares at you across the clearing after waking up, as if he is trying to sort all of his thoughts out. His fingers twitch, his eyes raking over you desperately - and then he has moved, lightning quick, and his arms have wrapped around you and you are being crushed against the weight of his chest.

“I thought . . .” He whispers into your ear, his voice so broken it makes you ache. “Oh, I can’t believe he would . . . I’m so sorry--”

“You couldn’t have done anything,” you whisper to him - relieved to find that your tongue and your throat are once more capable of working. You reach up to touch his face, and Dain groans, torn between leaning into the touch and pulling away as he so often does, so worried that he’s somehow going to taint you.

You’re not sure if you could ever feel more tainted than you do right now.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” his voice cracks. Dainsleif is normally so stoic and solid; you cling to him as you journey through Teyvat, relying on him. Seeing him like this makes you ache.

“You won’t,” you reach for his hand, take it gently and place it over your collarbone, shivering at the touch of his glove on your skin. “See? I’m still here.”

Dain sighs again, his lashes fluttering closed against his sculpted cheekbones. He murmurs your name again, so softly you can barely hear it; and his fingers slide along the imprint of that same collarbone, to your shoulder, until they find the place Dottore had bitten into when he had come.

“I can’t bear seeing his marks on you,” he whispers. “I want to scrub you free of every touch.”

You close your own eyes and let yourself be lulled into Dainsleif’s arms; you let your head rest against his chest, you let yourself be comforted by the familiar scent of him. His fingers don’t stop tracing the bite marks, his touch getting more and more agitated.

“Dain--” You murmur. You’re suddenly so tired. You know you were just unconscious, but that’s not the same as getting real rest. This morning - or was it this morning? How long were the two of you really with Dottore? How long had it been before Dainsleif had come to find you? Whatever the case, it seems a hundred years ago now.

You wonder if Dainsleif would mind if you fell asleep on him, right here.

“Please,” Dain’s lowered his head now. His breath flutters against your ear; delicately tickling your ear. “Let me . . . Let me make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” you murmur, but it clearly means a lot to Dainsleif, and you do not mind the gentle touch of his hands as they smooth softly over the places Dottore has bitten, the places you have bruised. Dainsleif has lost so many people, after all - you do not blame him for wanting to check on you. You nestle your head under Dain’s chin and he takes a shuddering breath, inhaling the scent of your hair. “Do I still smell like myself?”

“Don’t joke,” his voice breaks. You don’t know how else to cope with it; the thought of Dottore’s hands all over you, the reminder of what the Doctor took from you. Dain’s hand slips under the bodice of your dress.

You go all-over cold, all-over still.

Dainsleif doesn’t even notice. His hand gently travels further down, further down, squeezing the weight of your breast in his hand. Your fingers twitch where they lay against him, cradled as you are in his arms - but Dainsleif is still murmuring to himself now, lost in a frenzy of his own thoughts, and for the first time you feel afraid of him.

“Dain--” You try to say, throat clogged. “Dain, don’t--”

“Please,” he repeats, ragged. “I just . . . I need to touch you. I need to know you’re here. I need to know he didn’t--”

You can’t do this. Your heart jumps into your throat, a sickening thumping beat as Dain’s thumb rubs a circle over your nipple and traitorous body, it responds to him just as it had to Dottore.

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“I love you,” Dainsleif whispers, broken into your ear. “Let me . . . I won’t hurt you . . .”

His other hand, pulling you further into his lap. Holding you spoon-fashion against him, like a lover.

You wouldn’t complain, ordinarily.

But now . . .

All you want is for him to hold you. All you want is for him, you think, to kiss your forehead and reassure you and take care of you. The way his hands keep travelling over your skin - the other is kneading at the flesh of your thigh now, his breath coming in those same great shuddering pants as if he doesn’t have full control over his own body right now. You whimper aloud as his hand brushes further, further--

You’re not wearing underwear. Not after Dottore had torn it at the seams.

Dainsleif sighs.

“It killed me seeing him touch you,” he whispers into your hair, dropping a kiss onto the top of your head, disgustingly tender. His fingers are petting at your folds, his arms iron-tight like the ropes that had wrapped around him earlier. He doesn’t notice that you’re trembling; he ignores the soft little entreaties you do manage to get out.

“I can’t,” you say, as Dainsleif tugs at your nipples.

“Dain--” you whimper, his fingers spreading the lips of your sex apart.

“Not yet,” you beg, as he drops a kiss over the bruising bites Dottore left on your shoulders.

“I wish I could cover you with myself,” Dainsleif says, as he continues to use his mouth and his fingers and acts as though he does not hear a word. “But . . . oh, I don’t deserve you . . . Not yet . . . Please, let me make sure you never think of him again--”

It’s too much. Too much, too soon, your body churning with feelings and your mind churning with thoughts that you can’t yet put in place, because Dainsleif is touching you and not listening to you and you wonder if this makes him just like Dottore, in his way.

You think about yourself, in Sumeru City, your smile bright, laughing off his concern - and you think about Dainsleif now, his touch so possessive and so desperate that he’s going to cover the bruises Dottore left with bruises of his own.

“I’ll be fine,” you had said. I can take care of myself.

Dainsleif takes care of you, when you cannot; when you are injured or sick or lost. You have always had him to rely on; your travelling companion through Teyvat, as you desperately tried to make sense of the world that you have found yourself in.

Here, though . . .

You think, as the tears roll down your face, you could do without Dainsleif taking care of you like this.

#writing #dark content for ts #non con for ts #dead dove do not eat #mind control for ts #dub con for ts #genshin impact posting #commissioned work #not sfw text

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fictoculus · 1 month

Note

Dunno if you've done this before, but characters with tall reader!

This is mostly me being sick and having OC obsession brain rot, but the majority of my OCs are 5'9–6'0+ for reference by what I mean for "tall".

Love your writing, by the way! Keep yourself safe and make sure to treat yourself for all the joy you bring your viewers with your writing<3. Also, this is my first request:D

(Thinking about characters like: Venti, Diluc, Zhongli, Traveller, and whoever else you want to write/if you don't write for some of these characters, that's fine!)

౨ৎ them w a tall partner...

send a request!┊masterlist┊taglist applications

FEAT... aether, venti, itto, alhaitham, diluc

A/N... hiiii anon tysm for the request!! i loveee this idea it's so cute so i'm more than happy to write it ^^ unfortunatelyyy i wasn't able to write anything for zhongli as i js couldn't think of anything, i hope that's ok!!! also thank youuuu! i'm so glad you like my stuff, nd please make sure you take care of yourself too!! hope to see you again soon, enjoy ♡ alsooo i tried out some new colouring!! i hope you guys like ittt i think it's prettyy :3 oh and disclaimer these heights may not be accurate!!! i got them from this website but it seems pretty reliable to meee

✧ aether. - 5'4"

the traveller, the honorary knight, the swordfish II captain, the first sage of buer: just a few of the multitude of titles aether has earned from the many battles he's fought for teyvat. he's always fighting for people, protecting people, blindly jumping head-first into danger; he needs someone to protect him for a change, and that someone is you.

he always feels safe with you, and the way you stand behind him when he's chatting with friends or purchasing items from vendors makes him feel untouchable; evident by the way he practically melts under your touch.

one of the first things people tend to notice about you is your height, and although it doesn't really bother you, aether thinks it's ignorant and unfair. don't get him wrong, he loves your height, but there's so much more to you than that. he wishes people would notice your style, or your personality, maybe even your smile, anything. as long as nobody tries to steal you from him, he doesn't mind.

he'll often find himself being the little spoon while cuddling, and honestly, it's the thing he most looks forward to after a long day of completing commissions and collecting resources.

he loves how tall you are, how gentle you are, how loving you are; he loves all of you, and he hopes you love all of him too...

✧ venti. - 5'5"

venti loves the way you tower over him, and finds your subsequent protectiveness rather endearing.

your height sometimes intimidates people, and discourages them from wanting to strike up conversation with you. venti, however, was never bothered by it, and had no problem shamelessly flirting with you the very second you entered angel's share that fateful day.

the bard struggles to understand how people could possibly be afraid of you. of course, he knows how strong you are, and is aware of the lengths you'd go to in order to protect him, but nothing about your personality was something to be scared of.

the more he got to know you, the quicker he came to the realisation that you're really just a big softie - a gentle giant, if you will.

your impressive stature also means that you can carry him around. venti loves nothing more than being in your arms, face nuzzled into your chest as you take him to bed after a long day, or resting his head on your shoulder and forcing you to lift him up when he 'falls asleep''.

all in all, your boyfriend views your height is anything but negative. he loves you the way you are, and, as cliché as it sounds, wouldn't change anything about you for the world...

✧ itto. - 6'1"

no matter how tall you are, itto will give you piggyback rides. and you will enjoy them. to put it quite frankly, you don't have a choice.

even though you're taller than him, he still loves to have you in his arms, whether that means cuddling, carrying you around, or simply just hugging you from behind. something about having you in his hold makes him feel stronger and more confident than he ever has before.

the members of the arataki gang were shocked when they first met you, genta mistaking you for itto when he caught sight of your silhouette. nonetheless, they have all grown to be quite fond of you, and often leave small gifts on your doorstep which never fail to bring a smile to your face.

your height was something you sometimes felt ashamed of, however, itto always makes sure you feel happy within yourself, and will do everything in his power to wash the insecurities away; showering you in kisses and telling you just how perfect you are...

✧ alhaitham. - 5'10"

at first, alhaitham was slightly embarrassed that you were taller than him, not because of your appearance, but because of how he'd been relentlessly teasing his roommate for his height while having a partner who stands at an impressive 6'5"...

nevertheless, the scribe truly admires everything about you, and will often just stare. even though he wants nothing more than to have you in his arms, he's more than happy to admire you from afar, to watch you go about your day or make idle chit-chat with the local vendors so that he can just take you in; "archons, they're beautiful".

even though he stands shorter than you, he is extremely protective over you; intertwining his fingers with yours whenever he has the chance, and staring down anyone who 'looks at you wrong'. you often tease him for this, poking fun at his pout before kissing it away with a smile, only for it to return as you pinch his rosy cheeks.

the love alhaitham has for you is immeasurable, and the (not so) little things like your height only make him fall harder for you. his heart skips a beat when he feels your arms snake around his waist from behind, being pulled into your chest as you rest your head on his shoulder. yes, you could still do this even if you were shorter, but for him, nothing compares to being able to sink into you; he rather enjoys feeling smaller when he's with you...

✧ diluc. - 6'1"

you and your husband, diluc, stand at a similar height, him just slightly taller than you at 6'1". people often stare when you walk into a room hand-in-hand, but the darknight hero couldn't be more proud.

he never misses the chance to show you off, introducing you to everyone he knows while making sure to subtly flash the wedding ring he oh so gently slides onto your finger every morning. however, as soon as someone dares to make a rude remark about you, your husband has no problem stepping in front of you and handling the situation himself. yes, you're capable of looking out for yourself, but the redhead always feels the need to protect the ones he loves most.

the two of you are a package deal, and are rarely seen apart from each other unless absolutely necessary. diluc can't stand being away from you, and often finds his mind flooded with thoughts of you when he should be focused on the financial papers spread out on the desk before him.

being the taller ragnvindr, diluc often takes it upon himself to hand you items from higher up shelves, knowing full well you can reach them just fine by yourself. "given my stature, wouldn't it be rude not to hand my partner the things they couldn't possibly reach?", he always asks, pressing a loving kiss on your forehead and handing you whatever you were reaching for. such a tease...

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you’d like me to write next!

TAGLIST... @maopll . @nyxmainex apply here

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eluxcastar · 1 year

Text

Fatui Harbingers with a child they don't own

── ୨୧：fatui harbingers & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: a child that doesn't seem to belong to any one of them is known to wander around headquarters, though it's not exactly clear whose it is or how it even got there. well, it's cute enough, isn't it?

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child reader, child endangerment 💀, scaramouche is soft because baby, pantalone is trying to teach a kid stocks, pulcinella is such a grandpa

୨୧﹑words :: 2k

this was a little thought that came to mind, mostly because of the fact I was like "Capitano forced to carry around some lil baby would be cute" and I'm fuckin speed running writing this before sports tryouts I've got less than one hour 😭

nvm I didn't finish in time and it got cancelled anyway so we can work slowly now (I didn't even finish this until the next day anyway LMAO) the mild implication each of them handles the same child on different days and this kid is just experiencing all of these things is funny to me for no reason

you have a horrible habit of wandering off while waiting for your parent, somehow managing to find yourself in the stranger possible places. how you end up there, nobody who has to look for you ever really knows, but you usually end up finding at least one person who will—if nothing else—tolerate you.

the youngest of the Harbingers is the easiest to survive and get along with. Childe likes you, and knows how to keep you entertained while he somewhat awkwardly waits to see if anyone will arrive to look for you. admittedly, he likes it whenever you pop up, finding you a good little distraction, and you think his bow is cool to watch when he uses it. you think it's just the fact that he's so good with it that makes it so interesting, and he's very supportive when you tell him all of the stuff you don't get to tell anyone. it's not that Childe is constantly waiting to feed his interest nor does he always care a lot but he certainly makes it sounds like he does and it sounds very much like he's proud of you for even your minor achievements. are you hungry? he can get you food if you need and makes sure you're shockingly well taken care of and there's not a scratch on you when you leave. he even has you calling him big bro at some point though where that came from nobody is really sure.

on a very different note, Arlecchino is at first very confused by you, then quite soft. she does not coddle you, but she is never particularly aggressive towards you, initially believing that you were looking specifically for her for some reason. after all, what else would make a small child pull at her overcoat? she does begin to wonder where you came from, and was very impressive to you, though she warns you not to grab at her clothes too much. by her own words "Something might bite you" thought that really refers to whatever weapon she keeps, referring to it in a way a child would easily understand. she lets you sit with her while you wait, but warns you once more this time not to wander, sometimes letting you take her hand and guide her to pat your head and play with your hair.

admittedly, you are not what one might call the the most popular with the banker, though he gives you little trinkets and more frequently gives you mora to look at. he gifts you loose mora so much that you run off to him when there's something you want but can't afford, and of course he notices though you think you're so slick. Pantalone starts to give you more money, as long as you keep showing up, looking and learning all the things he wants to show you. he wouldn't indulge your greed so much if it didn't give him what was an opportunity. he finds fostering your curiosity is much easier than squandering it and when you want to see the many things you simply cannot afford while living on the salary of a lowly fatuu you've picked the best option for who to go to. someday you're going to need the knowledge he happily provides, and who better to learn from than the richest man in Teyvat? wait, what do you mean you barely understood a word of it?!

above all else you think La Signora is very beautiful, and really you just want to follow the pretty lady around even if she tries to pretend she doesn't notice you at first. your persistence got so annoying she was forced to turn around and try to figure out what you want, touching your face and observing your features to see if she recognises them. of course she doesn't. she has no idea who the hell you are, or where you came from or what you want. strangely there's this endearment to you, like she can't quite bring herself to get rid of you even if she's not over the moon about you insisting on holding her hand and going wherever she goes.

easily one of the most fun to bother is Sandrone, who may have been a little on the eager side to have someone who could act as a test user for at least a few of her automatons for her. if even a child could understand the instructions, surely grown adults would have no problem right? you make a great play tester, often finding several of them piled up just for you to play with. she knows you can't stop your wandering, you'll continue to come back to see her--her inadvertent bribery that she'll have cool toys to play with ready for you to seek her out. admittedly not all of your critiques make it in, mostly the ones that don't actually apply to their purpose as she has you believing they're just harmless toys with coincidental abilities. she is generally quite benevolent towards you however, always acting as if she really will accept them in a heartbeat. she always keeps you well taken care of too.

perhaps the most shocking reaction of all is Scaramouche who is…unexpectedly nice to you. for someone supposed to be bold and generally disliked, he sure is nice in letting you crawl all over him and ask your thousand questions. he fusses over you in that odd caring way, though never what you'd call particularly sweet about it. he buttons your coat for you when he doesn't want you to get cold and lets you hide under his hat from the snow. Scaramouche often sits you in his lap as he finds something to talk to you about whether it be school or home, all a ploy to keep you still perhaps, but if for some reason he doesn't enjoy your conversations-- well, you certainly don't notice. he does greatly enjoy it in fact, a little more than he cares to admit even to you.

talking at all to Pulcinella is like talking to your Grandfather as he comes to recognise you well, greeting you with a ruffle of your hair as he asks if you've gotten bigger. you haven't gotten bigger, and he's really not all that good at picking you up, but he certainly tries and you try to pretend your feet are more than an inch off the ground. perhaps manhandling simply isn't his strong suit. still you enjoy all the candy he has laying around, and the little gadgets you find around his office which haven't had a use in twenty years. a bit of interest to them doesn't exactly make them useful, and the things you really like are always the ones you can't touch like the little tin of rolled up papers secured with a rubber band and some suspicious stuff you can't discern, but he has many stories to tell of these things all to keep you distracted from the fact you got your hands on a tobacco tin and specifically cannot use it.

strangely the least opposed but most confused by you being around is Capitano, who cannot seem to simply scare you off at a glance and therefore has to wonder why you're here at all, where are your parents? you definitely don't work here. you must be cold, hungry? did you drink enough water today? he finds himself starkly confused as to why you just wander around him, can't seem to find an ounce of sense in you as you don't turn tail and run, and while he lets you sit on his lap when you get too tired he does not appreciate having to pull your hands away from his helmet all the time. maybe he should let you just to deter you after you almost get your hand bitten off. something about the way you still hug him tightly before you leave, or how you'll just dangle off your arm, even the way that you will appear in the most inconvenient situations and he'll just hook you under his arm and cart you off somewhere with him he knows is safe. of course you think this is the most fun you've ever had but on the other hand he really wishes you would show up at a time when he's not occupied.

to Columbina you are just the cutest little thing, drawn to the sound of her voice, though that is only what first leads you to find her by chance. she does not specifically take care of you so much as pamper you, playing with your hair and sitting you by her side to keep you company. you like to turn her hair and the ornaments in her hair, all which make you say she's like a pretty dove. she knows someone will come to find you, but in the meantime she is focused on settling you down to stop your wandering. she lets you cuddle up to her, lulling you to sleep with a pretty song that calms you down. you're much easier to watch that way. it keeps you from wandering, something she notices you must have a habit of considering you found her in the first place. it doesn't matter how full of energy you were when you walked in, always finding yourself curled up, head resting on her shoulder as you drift off to sleep rather quickly.

you are not exactly granted the warmest welcome by the Doctor, in fact you become terrified of Dottore the second he notices you've found your way inside and accidentally mistakes you for one of his test subjects. of course that makes you turning tail and running off seem quite suspicious, though you're also not very hard to catch. all of your squirming is expected, barely even stopping him very much at all. thankfully Dottore wasn't born yesterday, and the large stuffed animal you carry around and the clothes you wear are fairly indicative of the fact that you're probably not one of his subjects after all once he gets a better look at you. though it's hard to ease your shaking and wipe your tears when you're not eager to listen. he's not exactly the best with children either, though you do eventually come around once he figures out what to do, letting you cuddle up to him while he stroke your back to soothe you just in case you happen to be well liked by anyone he's not keen to annoy--rare chance but never impossible. you're not exactly eager to spend time loitering around there once he sets you back on your feet and watches you run off, but rare is not impossible.

how you even managed to find your way to Pierro is beyond even him, as the sudden opening of his door is usually met with a glare, though the sight of an empty space where a person would usually be prompts him to look down just to be sure. suffice it to say he's not exactly happy to have some little ankle biter running around headquarters, but he doesn't really have time to drop everything and scoop you up to march you back wherever you came from. you have to sit still and wait. Pierro should've foreseen you crawling around his feet to get under his desk and treating it like a hidey hole--being there in the first place should've indicated to some degree that you're not particularly into the idea of patience. his numerous attempts to catch you by your arm and hold you still don't work either, just resulting in you giggling and running off to some other corner where you get into something you shouldn't. he knows damn well all of his attempts are only encouraging you, and he's a glad to finally watch you give up, possibly just because you got bored-- but whatever the reason, watching you crawl back under his feet to fit between the little space in between him and his desk lets him breathe a sigh of relief and go back to working for a little white longer while you wait for him to go find whoever you belong to.

suffice it to say whoever was looking for you is sufficiently horrified by the time they find you, but that doesn't seem to be too unusual to you.

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eiightysixbaby · 1 year

Text

i've got you under my skin now

word count: 2.9k

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x rockstar!fem!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI. SMUT SMUT SMUT. kind of asshole!eddie but he's really just a moody baby, oral (m receiving), masturbation, reader and eddie argue but everything is consensual, really just absolute filth with a plot.

summary: you're an up-and-coming musician in the rock scene and have been asked to join corroded coffin on a song. only thing is, their singer - eddie munson - proves to be challenging to collaborate with.

author's note: my first lengthier work so sorry in advance if there are errors! this is a daisy jones and the six inspired one-shot, and for the sake of this fic i directly reference the title and lyrics of the song 'honeycomb' from the tv show - but you really don't need to know the book/show to understand. ok anyways hope u all like it and here u go @taintedcigs i know u've been waiting for this one em i hope u love it!!

“Honestly Eddie, I don’t care anymore! I’m not listening to your little rockstar tantrum. She’s coming in, and she’s joining you on the song. That’s final.”

Eddie scoffs at his manager. Ever since he was informed that ‘Y/N - biggest fucking nobody in the rock scene’ was going to be coming in and recording his song with him, Eddie had been relenting.

“Tom, you don’t fucking get it man. Clearly. My song is perfect. What do we need her for? She doesn’t even have an album out, she’s made no name for herself. She’s going to ruin Corroded Coffin.” Eddie continues pestering, despite Tom’s insistence against it.

“No, Eddie, see that’s where you’re wrong. You wrote a good song man, okay? A good song. But just a good song. She could make it great. You haven’t heard her sing like I have. She has real talent.”

Eddie scrunches up his face and pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “Oh a good song, huh? But you said the label liked it. Why change it?”

Tom sighs, taking a step towards Eddie. “The label didn’t dig the song… okay? They said it needs more, otherwise they’re gonna pass on it.”

“So you fuckin’ lied man, fuck-“ Eddie grits his teeth. “Fine, whatever, she’s gonna sing on the song with me. But that’s it.” Eddie grumbles, storming out of the small room.

•••

“He doesn’t get it, guys, he doesn’t fucking get it!” Eddie yells. “This is my song. My fucking baby. And this... bitch is gonna come in here and destroy it. I don’t need her singing on the song - I don’t need anyone to make my music ‘better’” he spits.

The thing is, things have always gone Eddie’s way since Corroded Coffin gained traction in the music world. Eddie writes the songs, Eddie dictates which songs go on the album, so on and so forth. This makes sense to Eddie, and if you ask him, he’s being completely fair to the rest of the guys in the band. ‘Of course I let them have a say in things. I don’t care what rumors you’ve heard - it’s a fair process around here.’ It’s only natural that he can’t handle the idea of someone else singing on his song. Eddie is always the one singing, save for Gareth and Jeff doing backing vocals.

Eddie thrives off of being liked. The way the fans hang onto every word he sings- it’s electric to him. He’s addicted to the way people adore him. And he’d never admit it to anybody… but he’s nervous you might just show him up, and then *poof* no one cares about him anymore.

“Come on, Eddie. Ease up a little! This could be fun, you never know.” Gareth says, following Eddie back and forth as he paces the recording studio.

“I give you like, 20 minutes before you’re in love with her… or bending her over a table.” Jeff interjects, screeching when Gareth throws a drumstick at him to shut him up.

Eddie can’t get a rebuttal in before the door swings open. Tom walks in trailed by a young woman. Quite possibly the most beautiful woman Eddie’s ever see- nope. Nope. Not going there. What was that?

“Guys. This is Y/N, as I’m sure you could guess. She’s here to record ‘Honeycomb’ with us today.” Tom smiles politely at the group, jolting Eddie from his thoughts.

“Y/N, hey. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Gareth, this is Jeff, Greg, and I’m sure you know Eddie - the star of the show.” Gareth goes around the room, pointing at all of the guys.

You meet Eddie’s gaze as Gareth talks, and your breath hitches in your throat. Of course you know who Eddie is- you’ve seen him on magazine covers and in interviews. You’ve always thought he was alluring, but he’s even more gorgeous in person. Long, curly hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Tattoos trailing up his arms and chains around his neck. His signature ripped black skinny jeans that hug him so well in all the right places… fuck. Focus. You are not here to sleep with Eddie Munson. You redirect your attention to Gareth as he finishes speaking.

The rest of the guys all greet you warmly - except Eddie, you notice - who gives you a tight-lipped smile and a quick nod.

You walk straight up to him, holding out your hand for him to shake. “It’s so nice to meet you Eddie. Thank you so much for letting me be on the song - seriously, it means the world.” You say, exaggerating sincerity a little.

Eddie reluctantly shakes your hand. “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”

He walks away to set up a microphone before he can think too hard about the way his heart pounded as your hands touched.

•••

The recording session starts, and take one of the song has begun. You insisted on using the same mic as Eddie, who begrudgingly allowed you to stand beside him, shoulders brushing ever so slightly. The contact sends chills down his spine. Eddie sings the first lines confidently into the mic, not making eye contact with you. Tom, along with the rest of the band watch the two of you intently from the sound booth. Honestly, Eddie has to admit everything is going smoothly. That is, until the chorus starts. Eddie sings one lyric into the microphone… and you sing a different one.

“Woah, woah, okay, stop!” Eddie yells to Tom to cut the track, pulling the clunky headphones off of his head. “Those aren’t the lyrics, what are you doing?” He’s turned to face you, incredulous.

“Um I- I’m sorry, did he not get my version? Does he not know?” You say, avoiding eye contact with Eddie to level with Tom.

“Your version!? This is my song- you are here to sing on my song. Not to rewrite the damn song!” Eddie hisses, throwing his hands in the air.

“No, darling, I’m here to make your song better. And that’s exactly what I’ve done.” You narrow your eyes at him, a syrupy sweet smile on your face.

Eddie’s face is burning, his whole body is burning. You weren’t supposed to write new lyrics. This is not happening. And for the love of god stop staring at her lips, Eddie.

“Eddie, uh, let’s give her version a shot, yeah?” Tom says, framing it like a question, but Eddie knows he doesn’t really have a choice.

The track starts from the top again, and Eddie finds that his hands are trembling as he holds your songbook. He sings the lyrics as you have written them, and his stomach sinks as he does it. He hates that you’ve changed his perfect song. He hates that he was made to look like an idiot because Tom didn’t tell him you had rewritten anything. And most of all, he hates that he can hear how good your voices sound together. He hates that he thinks he’d like to hear the sound of your voice for the rest of his life, on the rest of his songs.

“Oooh, we could make a good thing bad,” the two of you sing out in unison, and the song ends.

Eddie stares at you and you stare at him, chest heaving and absolutely beaming. The rest of the band are looking at the two of you in awe from the sound booth. Eddie can’t bring himself to smile, can’t bring himself to let you know that he thinks you really might have made his song better. Can’t face you while his mind races with thoughts of grabbing your face and kissing you. Instead, he hands you your lyric book and hurries out of the studio.

You excuse yourself to the group amid their praises and follow him out the large wooden doors. You’re surprised to find the lobby empty, but then you hear noise coming from down the hall. Walking over to a small closet, you peer in and see Eddie in the dim light, leaning against the wall, hands covering his face and his head tipped back.

“Eddie, what was up with that?” You ask him gently, closing the closet door behind you for privacy. “I thought we sounded great.”

“You rewrote my fucking song!” He booms over you. “That wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to sing on it with me and that would be that.” He’s stepped towards you, leaving little room between the two of you in the already-cramped closet.

“It’s not my fault Tom didn’t tell you I changed some of the lyrics, okay? I didn’t expect you to be blindsided like that. But you could’ve been more mature about it!” You defend.

“Who the hell do you think you are? No- seriously, tell me. Corroded Coffin has worked so hard to make a name for ourselves. I have worked so hard. And you just waltz in here like you own the place? What the fuck is your problem?” Eddie’s words come out sharp, bitter, but there’s an emotion behind his eyes you can’t quite place. Fear? Maybe.

“Oh get your head out of your ass already, Eddie! I made your song better! We sounded fucking amazing together- the label might actually want it now!” You’re screaming back at him at this point, heat rising in your face as he steps impossibly closer to you. “And don’t even get me fucking started on the Corroded Coffin bullshit. Do you even give the other guys a say in what happens in this band? Cause you seem like a big cocky crybaby who always gets his way. I may not be rich and famous like you are but at least I’m not a fucking prick!” You’re seething, and you press your hands to his chest in an attempt to shove him backwards.

Eddie stops you, though, grabs you by the wrists. Firmly, but not hurting. His huge brown eyes haven’t stopped boring into yours. He thinks his heart might sprout wings and fly out of his chest. He thinks he might hate himself forever if he doesn’t get to have more of you.

“What- now you’re speechless? Don’t have anything to s-“ Eddie cuts you off, pressing his lips to yours like his life suddenly depends on it. Maybe it does.

You’re caught off guard, frozen in place for only a second until you kiss him back, pushing him up against the shelves behind him. His hands leave your wrists and hastily scour your body. You’d think he was a man starved the way he grips at your hips, lips basically devouring yours all the while. Eddie gasps as you lean down to his neck, sucking red and purple marks onto the skin that Jeff is definitely going to mock him for later. He can’t bring himself to care. He grabs your face in his hands to meet your lips once again, needing more.

“You wanna know something, Y/N?” Eddie says between kisses, moving down to nip at your neck. “I can’t fucking stand the way you came in here so confidently today-“ another kiss to your neck. “The way you came right up and sang into the same mic as me instead of using your own, like you just own the whole room-“ another kiss, and another “I can’t stand the fact that your lyrics are better than mine- that maybe you made 'Honeycomb' something I couldn’t make it,” he’s talking through gritted teeth, agitated and yet completely enamored with you. “I hate that the entire time I was watching you sing, I couldn’t stop thinking about your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock..”

Before you can respond, he’s unbuttoning your jeans, pushing you against the opposite wall of the closet, taking control.

“I think you’re absolutely insufferable and immature” you breathe out, pulling his hair out of its ponytail so you can run your fingers through it.

He lets out a breathy chuckle, but it’s arrogant, smug. “You can spit whatever insults you like, sweetheart, but you’re absolutely soaked right now.” He gives you a smile, tilting his head to the side as he does. His fingers had slipped inside the waistband of your pants, and are now circling the lace fabric of your panties.

You feel yourself clench around nothing as his fingers tease your core. You let out an involuntary moan, rutting your hips down against his touch. He gets the hint and shimmies your jeans down your legs, and you slip out of them after quickly taking your shoes off. You meet his gaze again as he tugs his jeans down slightly, pulling his cock free from the thin fabric of his boxers.

And - oh my god - he’s fucking huge. Thick and long with a dripping pink tip. You swallow, hard, and you swear you feel your mouth start to water. Suddenly you can’t figure out how you’ve survived this long without him, and you certainly won’t be able to after this.

“Get on your fucking knees, babydoll” he purrs, lips inches away from your ear.

You oblige, of course, settling yourself so that your pussy rests on the toe of his combat boot, aching for whatever friction you can get. You take his cock into your mouth without further instruction from the rockstar, and he inhales sharply above you.

“Fuck, baby, shit-“ Eddie groans, collecting your hair in one of his hands and tugging, his cock twitching slightly in your mouth.

“What, big shot, can’t handle it? Should I tell the press that Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin comes three seconds into a blowjob?” you tease him, but you can’t ignore the way your head spins at his praise.

“Shut up and fucking suck it, sweetheart- I can handle it.” He hisses.

You don't need further instruction. Your tongue works on his cock, licking a stripe up his length and then kitten-licking the tip. Eddie’s seeing stars as you engulf him entirely in your mouth once again. You go at it for a while before he feels you rutting yourself against his boot.

His laugh is devious, wicked. “So desperate for me huh, sweet thing? Gonna get yourself off while you suck my cock, baby?”

You want to retaliate, taunt him back, do anything to make yourself seem like more than a pathetic fucking whore for him, but you’re dripping through your panties and the friction is so, so delicious you can’t stop your movements. Warmth is beginning to pool in your stomach and you need this release. You take him as deep into your mouth as you can, his tip practically nudging the back of your throat, gagging around him. Eddie thinks he might die, seriously, this is it for him. ‘Rockstar Dies In Supply Closet With His Dick Out’ he can see the tabloid headlines now. He tugs your hair and holds your head still as he starts to fuck into your mouth, reveling in the moans and mewls you let out beneath him.

“Shit, sweetheart, you feel s’fucking good around my dick-" he grunts, throwing his head back as he picks up his pace. "Go ahead and touch yourself for me, sweet girl. I know you need more." He says roughly.

You happily let him throat-fuck you as you tug your panties down slightly, bringing a hand down to allow your fingers to rub harsh circles into your clit. You feel yourself getting closer, a coil tightening more more more as he fucks into the heat of your mouth. You can sense his movements getting erratic, and you glance up to look at his face. He's delirious, so fucked out, and you feel as if you could melt into a puddle right here at his feet as you watch him.

“I’m gonna fucking cum, sweetheart, shit- you want it in your mouth?” He asks you, brown eyes blown out wide as he awaits your response.

You nod, mouth too full of him to speak, and you squeeze his heavy balls in your free hand as he thrusts faster faster faster into your mouth. He lets out a strangled moan as his cock twitches, ropes of hot cum coating your tongue. You quicken your pace on your aching clit and it doesn't take long for the coil in your stomach to snap. You cum all over your fingers and Eddie's boot that still rests beneath you, as he finishes riding out his high above you. He watches you as you swallow his load and he silently swears to himself he’ll do whatever he can to have you like this more often.

“Fuck, baby, you soaked my shoes huh? You okay?” He asks you tenderly, grabbing your arms to pick you up off the floor and steady your shaking frame. You nod, collapsing against him, head pressed to his chest. The two of you stay like that for a while, listening to each others heavy breaths before Eddie finally breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry for being a dick about having you on the song, okay?” He says, his voice softer and far more unsure than you've ever heard it. “You made it better- I really fucking mean that.”

“I know I did.” you reply, shifting to meet his gaze, and he smiles at you. “A few more rounds of this," you gesture around the two of you, "and I think you’ll have made it up to me” you smirk at him.

“Alright, sweetheart, same place same time tomorrow?” Eddie teases, and you laugh. That’s a sound he thinks he could get used to.

•••

When the two of you walk back into the recording room, Eddie's neck littered with hickeys and mascara smudged around your eyes, no one says a damn word.

"'Honeycomb' take three anyone?" Eddie asks.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #rockstar!eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader

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sainamoonshine · 5 days

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My unpopular opinion is that in languages with grammatical gender like french, it does make sense for Murderbot to be referred to by whatever pronoun is usually used for robots or constructs. (In french, therefore, grammatical masculine.) Because there are no traditional « it » pronouns in these languages for objects, and while there are neo-pronouns, they are things one must choose for themselves. Do you honestly think MB actually spent time thinking about its pronouns?! No it didn’t. On forms it picks « non-applicable ». When people ask it what pronouns they should use, its honest opinion is « why do you even need to talk about me. Just don’t fucking do that. Don’t think about me either. Just fucking stop perceiving me altogether! »

Thinking about what pronouns to use probably makes it way more uncomfortable than letting people call it what they’ve already been calling it. Making a conscious choice about its identity? And telling other people about it??? No thanks bye, it’s just gonna walk into the ocean now, see you never.

Lbr it probably thinks the only bots that get fancy pronouns are comfort units, and the pronouns are probably shoved into them by humans same as everything else. MB would meet a bot using a neopronoun and it would wish it could barf. Because in a language like french, he/him and she/her, when applied to objects, ARE fulfilling the function of the english « it ». Nobody is saying the table is a woman or related to feminity in any way outside of stand-up comedy; when it comes to objects grammatical gender really has fuckall to do with human gender even if we use the same words. Even animal species names have grammatical gender and everyone gets that there are male and female turtles even if the word « turtle » is a female word, it’s not that confusing.

(I know this is strange when your language has different pronouns for people and for objects, but understand that english uses the same word to indicate if I’m addressing one or many people, and that is confusing to me.)

TL;DR; stop harassing international fans for not getting the correct MB pronoun in english right off the bat. Yes in english calling it « he » or « her » or « them » is upsetting because it’s projecting an identity unto it. But same goes for trying to get a foreign language translation to use a pronoun intended to express or showcase an identity (or even a lack of one!). Murderbot has not thought about it this hard, refuses to think about it this hard -> and that is its only canon accurate gender identity.

#the murderbot diaries #taking a bat to an hornet’s nest there but I said what I said #I go by she/her because that’s the default people use for me even tho my own gender identity is also #ugh I would sincerely prefer not to have to deal with this think about it or even be perceived #and I would be hella pissed if a book of my life came out and people got into fights about my pronouns #trying to assign me the most politically accurate agender pronoun possible #when my own choice has always been specifically to let people call me the default because idc #and I don’t want to be identified by any identifier that might indicate I do care #and using a different pronoun even if its a gender neutral one is a CHOICE!#it does indicate a preference! and caring about it enough to pick a word and tell people about it!!!#Murderbot didn’t pick IT that is specifically the point!#it was used for it and MB just kept going with that #I mean imagine it if wrote down a different pronoun on its ID form one day and someone actually called it that #it would set itself on fire #its discomfort at having made a personal choice and the personal choice being respected would be off the charts #maybe it a later book after hella character development but I just don’t see it happening tbh #respect the agenders who just don’t want to get involved and use the pronoun equivalent of the default avatar that came with the account #PLEASE #that is all

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 23 days

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Heyyyy. Could u do some hcs on what tan and readers senses of humour are like together cuz i just feel like when they are in front of other people or in public they are like cackling witches and they are both just quite twisted and into dark humour which nobody else understands but i feel like thats why they get along so well. Hope it makes sense :)))

hiii!! I can so see this and it’s so cute!! thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

TAN AND READER SHARING THE SAME SENSE OF HUMOUR.

— I def feel like it comes across rude and bitchy, but it's always unintentional. you get on so well and bounce off each other without having to try. maybe it makes others jealous

— have this idea, but I need to explain it in layman's terms so I get my thought across properly. sat side by side, one of his arms is draped over your shoulder, he's manspreading (hot) and you're kinda twisting into him, and your legs are slung over his thigh. with the hand thats on your shoulder, he'd be mindlessly playing with the ends of your hair, and he has heart eyes bc why not. and you'd be talking against his cheek, whispering something funny and kissing it in between, playing with his spare hand. it's been eating me up and needed to get it out bc its effing SO CUTE

— "was that too far?" or "was that too much?" or "was that over the line?" or "was that offensive?" is probs within your vocab

— tans usual jokes are probably within the 'ophan' realm

— any new girl fans?? like winston and aly, they have inside jokes they CACKLE at, but no one else finds it funny. I imagine it like that

— another reference, but you know when kelly osbourne made a joke about donald trump?? and the hosts were all like "oooh" I kinda imagine it like that. other people might be "oh that's not.." or "maybe you shouldn't say that," but then the other one of you would be silently cracking up

— like to think he's not one to joke about certain triggering topics. hope he thinks that's too low, and instead of it being funny, would think it's cruel, insensitive and out of line (maybe im projecting what I want in a guy lmao)

— you're both quick and witty with it, but you're smart and know when enough is enough and what is considered too far. feel like you can both come up with them out of nowhere. it's a talent

— like laughing with your friend at class in school, lots of snickers, gentle arm slaps, gasps, cackles. all of it and it's so cute

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine headcanon

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iveantive · 5 months

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Prompt: sowoen has her first rut

sowoen (alpha) has her first rut but thankfully bada (alpha)is there to guide her and tatter (omega) is there to help her

TW: A/B/O, g!p, threesome, dirty talk, degradation, rutting, knotting, double penetration, breeding, age difference, size difference, cockwarming, belly bulge, anal

a/n i refer to tatter as her real name taeyoung throughout

“Let's go through the routine one more time; make sure you got it down,” Bada hummed, sitting on the practice room floor, her head leaning up against the wall.

Sowoen nodded. One more time couldn’t hurt, she thought to herself.

It was nearly 3 am at the dance studio. Other than Bada and Taeyoung, the other Bebe members had long since trickled their way out. Finish memorizing the dance for their upcoming mission. For some reason, though, Sowoen just could not get the moves down. She had been at it for hours, standing in front of the mirror, the same song replaying time after time. Previously, the other members were by her side, explaining the steps one by one to her. However, she just couldn’t get it.

She couldn’t put her finger on it. It was like she wasn’t in control of her body.

Only when all the other members had left was the issue more apparent to Sowoen. When she got to the practice room today, she noticed a strange scent in the air but decided to ignore it. Nobody else seemed to have noticed it, so she assumed she was just imagining things.

When it went down to just the three of them, it became apparent the smell was Taeyoung. And it had only grown stronger. Sowoen didn’t understand why the scent of citrus exuding from her had only now started to disrupt her focus. This is how Taeyoung always smelt. She's sure of it. After all, it was her favorite scent out of the omegas in the group.

Whatever was up with her, she had to ignore it, and she couldn’t let her group down just because she was having an off day.

Bada had seen the frustration and anger coming from the maknae. She knew she was trying her best, doing the best she could. That’s why she said nothing when the other Bebe members bid her goodbye, asking her when she was leaving. Opting to stay with the maknae instead. Bada knows how upsetting and lonely it can feel in the practice room late at night, and she didn’t want that for Sowoen.

And as Taeyoung was practically a second leader to Bada, she had decided to stay with the maknae as well. Standing by her side, doing the movements with her, over and over. Still, somehow, despite how exhaustion and tiredness of 3 am hours had rolled around, Taeyong had been the one to lighten the mood for the three. Still managed to crack some jokes here and there.

It did seem like Sowoen's hard work was starting to pay off. Perhaps it was the pressure of knowing that her unnies wouldn’t leave unless she had gotten the moves down. As the hours went by, the moves had started to click with her.

So here they were. Still stood by Soewon's side for the past few hours.

Bada looked down at her phone, where the song they had been practicing for the past few hours had been queued up time and time again. She pressed play on the song at let the music ring out for the nth time that night.

Sowoens got it; she nodded to herself. Parts where she had previously faltered or forgotten, she had managed to recall the moves, doing them in almost perfect sync with Taeyoung.

Focus, focus, focus, that was the only thing running through Sowoen's mind. She looked at herself in the mirror. Even she was able to see she had improved. She felt more confident in herself than before with each move. So confident, in fact, she let her gaze wander to the side of her.

To Taeyoung.

The sweat coating her skin, falling down her neck. As she whipped her head, hitting the next beat of the dance. In between each movement, Soewon could hear the hard breaths of air she was exhaling.

With every inhale, the citrusy scent was growing stronger, engulfing all of Sowoen's senses. She was trying. She really was. She tried to redirect her eyes back to herself, but no matter how hard she tried, they kept glancing back at Taeyoung, imagining what she would look like, exhausted in another way.

Her head was starting to hurt. Her vision was getting blurry, with tunnel vision only focusing on Taeyoung. She shook her head.

Focus, focus, focus, she was oh so desperately trying.

But, before Sowoen knew it, she found herself tripping on her own feet, followed by her body colliding with the hardwood floor of the dance studio.

“Sowoenie, oh my god, are you okay?” Taeyoung stood over her, face riddled with concern.

“Ye-yeah, i- i jus-”.

Cutting her words off, the overwhelming scent of citrus again filled her nostrils. She looked up at Taeyoung. This. This was her fault, Sowoen reasoned. Getting up off the ground, she towered over Taeyoung. So small, so delicate.

“Why do you smell like that?” Sowoen took a deep inhale; the scent was practically in her head, and she couldn’t think of anything else right now. Just that scent, just Taeyoung. She wanted. No needed it.

“Sm-smell li-like what?” Taeyoung stuttered as she had never seen the maknae act this way before. Sensing the newfound tension in the air between the two, Bada had gotten up and stood next to them.

“Citrus, it's you.” Sowoens eyes bored into Taeyoung. Who only looked back at her with utter confusion. Of course, she knew it was her scent, but she knew for a fact that she had taken her scent blockers today.

Bada took a deep sniff of the air, trying to catch the scent Sowoen had been talking about. Upon inhaling the air, she smelt nothing. Sniffing a bit deeper, she was able to pick up the scent of a slight citrus. That was normal, though. It shouldn’t be anything that would make Sowoen's nose act up unless.

And then it hit her.

“You’re rutting.” Bada's words practically felt like a knife as they cut through Sowoen and Taeyoung's confrontation. Sowoen whipped her head to look at Bada.

“No, I- I- don’t,” She stuttered. Sowoen hadn’t ever rut before. She knew that it would probably hit her sometime this year as she had just recently turned 19. She didn’t think it would be this soon, especially not here.

“You wouldn’t be able to smell Taeyoung like that anyway else,” Bada concluded. She, herself an alpha, knew all the signs of an upcoming rut. The heightened senses, the irritability, the inability to think of anything else but breeding.

“Couldn’t you sense it coming?” Bada quirked an eyebrow at her as she asked.

Sowoen's cheeks started to heat up upon being asked this question. Suddenly feeling the eyes of both her unnies on her, waiting for her answer.

“I-i’ve never rut before, i-i don’t know.” Sowoen bowed her head, looking at the ground.

Bada nodded her head. She couldn’t blame the maknae for not knowing the signs. Now, she was starting to feel bad for pushing her so hard during this dance practice. She would've sent her home if she knew how the maknae was feeling. A tap on her arm broke her away from her thoughts.

“What should we do?” Taeyoung asked. Although it wasn’t inherently her fault, she still felt bad. She had been around some overbearing, aggressive alphas in the past who hadn’t been able to control themselves at the very scent of an omega. She wonders how Sowoen, a relatively new presenting alpha, has been able to control herself this entire time, not just around her but also the other four omegas in the group.

Bada felt that the two options here were cut and dry. Taeyoung helps Sowoen through her rut right now. Or they somehow lug Sowoen back to her house and let her parents deal with it. Looking at the state of the maknae, whose eyes were still firmly planted on the ground, while she had a light sheer of sweat coating her skin, thought the right answer would be obvious. Saying that, though, she wouldn’t force Taeyoung into accepting the first option either.

“Do you want to help her, you know?” Bada quirked an eyebrow.

Hearing those words had caught Sowoen's attention. Her head perked up as she looked to Taeyoung to see her answer.

It’s her first rut. How bad could it be, Taeyoung thought to herself.

“Ye-yeah, I-i’ll help her.”

“Th-thank you, unnie,” Sowoen said with the utmost sincerity.

It didn’t take long for Taeyoung to feel her back collide with the hardwood floor, as the maknae had, by all means, tackled her to the ground. Leaving sloppy kisses all over her neck.

“H-hey Sowoen, wait a second.” She used way too much strength than usual to push the maknae, getting her to stop. She unzipped the hoodie she had been wearing, now only left in a simple sports bra. Taeyoung could practically see the fireworks in Sowoen's eyes as she went back down to kissing her neck, leaving little bites here and there.

Taeyoung smelt so good she needed more. Sowoen kept trying to dig her nose deeper and deeper into the crook of Taeyoung's neck, trying to get as close as possible to her. She needed her; she needed to get closer.

She needed to be in her.

Sowoen started bucking her hips inconsistently against Taeyoung's thigh as she continued to leave sloppy kisses that had now traveled down to her chest. The maknae had started pawing at Taeyoung's clothed breasts, too much in her own mind to comprehend much around her. All she knew was that she needed more of this delicious scent.

Bada looked at Sowoen. She resembled what could be described as an excited puppy right about now with the way she was just grinding against Taeyoung's thigh, her hands trying to grasp onto any skin Taeyoung let her, with the little breath whimpers that fell from her mouth with every passing moment.

The maknae was adorable. She wondered if she had looked this cute and excited during her first rut.

Taeyoung had started to grow impatient. She knew that the young girl didn’t know what she was doing, but god damn.

“So-Sowoenie,” Taeyoung's voice was shaky as she pushed Sowoen's head away for the 2nd time that night.

“You need more. I know you do. Come on,” Taeyoung whined, hoping that would be enough to get Sowoen to do something.

Sowoen just looked at Taeyoung like a confused puppy before quirking her head to the side.

Fuck she's cute as all Taeyoung could think.

“Take her shorts off,” They heard Bada say from the side. What the fuck, Taeyoung had somehow forgotten that she had been here this entire time. If there were a better time and place for your team leader to see you get fucked she would love to hear it.

Catching the not-so-subtle hint from Bada, Sowoen, still coherent enough, managed to move the hand that wasn’t squeezing Taeyoungs tit. Down till it reached the waistband of her shorts and tried to tug them down. However, she was having some trouble doing so, and before Taeyoung could say anything, she heard the sound of fabric ripping.

God dammit, she was going to have to buy some new shorts.

And she knows she hears Bada let out a snicker from the sidelines.

“Take yours off too, Sowoenie.” They once again heard Bada.

Taeyoung swears she heard Sowoen let out a loud huff before seeing her sweatpants tossed across the room. Now, only in her boxers could Taeyoung feel the maknaes bulge in the closest proximity. Her eyes were nearly popping out of her head. She was big.

Sowoen continued to kiss Taeyoung's chest down to her tummy, stopping at the waistband of her panties, looking up at Taeyoung like a puppy, asking permission from her owner. Heh, cute, she thought as she nodded. Feeling the maknae tug down her panties, thankfully not ripping them like her poor shorts.

She doesn’t know why she wasn’t able to notice before, but she was so wet. Maybe it was her body's innate nature to grow with arousal around alphas, or Sowoen's clumsy movements were actually doing something for her. Whatever it was, she was wet and hadn’t been this wet in a long while. The maknae was still stuck grinding her bulge against her thigh, and by this time, she could feel the precum leaking through her boxers onto her skin.

“I-in-inside pl-please.” Since when did her voice get so whiny? Taeyoung wondered to herself.

Sowoens was bucking her hips with nothing but excitement to finally get in something. As a result, the head of her cock was ghosting over her folds, poking the soft flesh every so often. Just making Taeyoung writhe and whine even more. Sowoen was so close to where she needed it most. Taeyoung tried to move her hips in tandem with the maknae but to no avail.

Finally, catching the attention of Bada, who was now Sowoen's side, the leader looked down at Taeyoung with that stupid grin on her face. Bada was having too much fun watching this show unfold, but seeing how desperate Taeyoung was and, well, how blissfully unaware Sowoen was of the latter's desperation, she had to intervene.

Bada reached one of her hands between Taeyoung's legs and manually spread her folds with her ring and index finger, eliciting a muffled moan from her before Bada fixed her eyes back on the maknae.

“Okay, Sowoenie, you want aim here, okay?” Bada instructed the maknae. She used her middle finger to essentially point to exactly where Sowoen needed to go.

And the guidance did, in fact, work as Sowoen took hold of her length and aimed her cockhead precisely where Bada had pointed to and began to insert the head of her cock inside her, making Taeyoung let out a loud moan rip from her throat.

“Shit, she's that big, huh” Bada commented. She knew the younger was big just by judging from where she was, but god.

It didn’t take long for Sowoen to ease her entire length into Taeyoung, giving the girl under her what was definitely not enough time to adjust before she started to buck her hips into the girl below her. Making Taeyoung reach for anything to grab onto, and it just so happened to be the maknaes clothed back. She began clawing at her back, trying to get used to the intrusion inside of her.

Sowoens lips were back on Taeyoungs neck, sucking at the soft flesh, letting her tongue graze over the skin. Her hand that had been dancing on top of Taeyoung's sports bra-cladded chest had made its way under and was now squeezing one of them in her hands. The fabric had seemingly gotten in her way, though, because before Taeyoung could even process what was happening, she heard the sound of fabric being ripped.

Another article of clothing she has to buy, god dammit.

The maknaes hips were moving more sporadically as her knot started to form; her body was practically engulfing Taeyoungs much smaller frame. She just needed to feel as close as possible to her as she could. Sowoen's mouth had traveled back down to Taeyoung's chest, letting her tongue lap at the peak of her nipple. Then she took it into her mouth fully, suckling on the hardening peak in her mouth.

Her thrusts started getting faster and rougher, the sounds of wet skin hitting against each other filling the room with every grind of Sowoen's hips. Her pelvis rubbing up against Taeyoungs clit was making her near closer and closer to the edge.

“Remember, Sowoenie, you have to get your knot inside of her, okay? You’ll feel better after,” Bada patted the maknaes head with her free hand. The other one had found its way into her sweatpants and was lazily stroking her cock over the fabrics.

Sowoen just let out a whimper in acknowledgment to Bada. Nevertheless, she listened with a few clumsy thrusts before a particularly hard one managed to pop the knot into Taeyoung, making her release a loud guttural moan. Her knot was huge, and she was feeling so stretched out, so overwhelmed, she didn’t know how Sowoen was able to manage it. But, her two hands were feeling like 10, with the way they were practically feeling up every portion of her body.

As Sowown teetered closer and closer to the edge, she started putting more effort into the thrusts. Although they were still clumsy, it was clear Sowoen knew what she was going after. With each buck of her hips, a low grunt fell from her mouth. The suckling on Taeyoung's nipples was getting rougher, with the previously soothing lips of Sowoen turning into the feeling of her teeth having more and more contact with her skin. No doubt leaving a mark in the process.

Not long after, after a few more uncoordinated thrusts, Sowoen had came, her knot inflating, stretching Taeyoung out even more, sending her into her own overwhelming orgasm. She hadn’t taken an alpha knot in a while, and good god, was Sowoens by far the biggest she’d had. As Sowoeun erupted inside of her, she let out what was a seemingly never-ending amount of seed from her cock, and due to her inflated knot, it showed no signs of seeping out.

Sowoen had her arms resting beside Taeyoung's head, as her own head was buried in her chest. Letting out little moans from her first harsh, rutting orgasm, the aftershocks still had an effect on her. While Taeyoung was in her own post-orgasm haze, her arms had found their way to Sowoen's neck, holding the younger girl closer. Her body was still quivering, her walls still contracting around Sowoens cock as if she was trying to milk her for all she got.

A few moments had passed, and Bada was sat close to the pair; her hand had found its way beneath her sweatpants, just lazily stroking her hard cock.

Until she very loudly cleared her throat, catching the attention of the pair intertwined together. Sowoen managed to perk up a little, turning to Bada, as she was very much still enjoying the warmth Taeyoung was providing.

“Was Taeyoung a good omega for you, Sowoenie?”

Like Bada even had to ask, just looking at the state the young girl was in is all you needed to see that she had been more than enjoying herself.

Sowoen immediately nodded her head like an excited puppy.

“She’s very warm.” The young alpha was practically glowing, clearly liking how things played out.

“Mmmmmm bred her so well,” Bada hummed, fixing her gaze onto Taeyoung, whose grip on the maknae had loosened but made no effort to try to push her off her. Bada pondered in her head for a couple of seconds before making up her mind. Maybe if Bada thought for a few more seconds, she would realize that she wasn’t thinking straight. Perhaps it had something to do with the strong mix of pheromones wafting in the air, the intense scents practically choking her. It was messing with her head.

“Don’t you think Unnie deserves a turn, Sowoenie?” Bada tutted.

“If unnie thinks so,” Sowoen looked up at Bada with wide eyes. Her pupils were blown wide.

“Good answer,” Bada smirks, gazing back at where the pair were connected.

“You’re gonna have to pull out of Taeyoung, though, okay?” Bada said more as a command than a question.

“O-okay, unnie,” Sowoen mumbled. It was clear who was in charge of the situation, not that Sowoen really minded. She was happy to listen to her leader, listen, and do whatever she pleased.

Thankfully, as the minutes leading up to this had passed, Sowoen's knot had slowly deflated, making it easier to ease her way out of Taeyoungs. Much to the latter's display, her arms were still wrapped around Sowoens neck, whimpering as Sowoens cock began to leave her.

Bada had repositioned herself so she was in front of the pair, and there she had a front-row seat to watching Sowoens load dripping out of her pussy. Bada isn’t sure if it’s because of Sowoens first rut, but she was in awe with how much cum was being pushed out with every contraction of Taeyoungs pussy walls. The fluid was overflowing down to Taeyoungs asshole and even beginning to pool onto the floor. She should be thankful that the Street Women Fighter staff had made it mandatory for all omegas, betas, and alphas to be on some sort of contraception; otherwise, there was no doubt in Bada's mind that Taeyoung would have been knocked up right now.

Once Sowoen had pulled out of Taeyoung, the young girl had flopped onto the ground next to her. It was somewhat cute to Bada in a way, with the way Sowoen had previously been up on Taeyoung aimlessly humping her, running off nothing but pure excitement and well hormones. And looking at her now, her bangs were stuck to her forehead due to the sweat that was still coating her skin, not to mention her cock still covered with the mixed fluid of her and Taeyongs.

“Sit up and watch Unnie,” Bada said in a way that sounded like a command. It was enough for Sowoen to immediately shoot up from her spot lying on the ground to sitting up, staring at Bada. Focusing on her next move.

Bada shifted her focus to Taeyoung, who still lay limp on the ground. Although the deep breathing had subsided by now, and she had managed to catch her breath, she showed no intentions of moving.

“Looks like you gave our maknae here a good first rut experience,” Bada motioned towards the young girl.

“It's a shame her first rut will be her best,” Taeyoung teased.

“You’re that cocky, huh?” Bada scoffed.

“Never met an alpha that didn’t want to hit twice after being with me once.” She shrugged with a smirk on her phase.

“You want to test that?” Bada's tone dropped as she glanced down at her hard-on, then back up at Taeyoung.

“What’re you waiting for?” She said in a smug tone.

It seemed that in one swift motion, Bada was able to completely rearrange her and Taeyoung's positions. Bada was now the one with her back to the floor with Taeyoung straddling her waist.

Sowoen was in complete and utter awe. She didn’t understand how Bada was able to make all those moves so smoothly. She kept watching the older women, hoping somehow a bit of that relaxed yet suave nature would rub off on her.

Bada had started grinding her hips, her cock still locked in the confines of her sweatpants, practically bursting from the fabric waiting to be released. Taeyoung ground against Bada, trying to match her movements. She could feel the combined fluids of herself and Sowoen leaking through Bada's sweatpants.

“Grinding on me like a slut” Bada spat as she reaches her hands to settle them on Taeyoungs waist.

“Well, you like it, don't you? I can feel how hard you are,” Taeyoung retorted.

Bada growled. Who did Taeyoung think she was to talk down to her? She halted her movements, not failing to see the confusion on Taeyoung's face as she tried to move her hips against Bada's strong grip to no avail.

She was able to keep Taeyoung still enough for her to ever so slightly pull down her sweatpants and boxers just enough for her cock to spring out. Upon doing that, the tip of Bada's cock swiped against Taeyoungs core, making her let out an unrestrained moan.

“You want it?” Bada's tone was dripping in lust. She dragged her tip over Taeyoungs folds, ghosting over her already sensitive clit made her gasp. Bada continued on dipping her cock so close to where she needed it most but never gave in.

Taeyoung was really trying to bite her lip, trying to keep her noise restrained. But the way Bada was talking to her had her so fucking horny, to put it bluntly. It was so different from how Sowoen treated her. The young girl had treated her more like a reward that she was happy to receive. It felt like Sowoen was trying to keep her close. While Bada was different, her tone was low and rough. She was treating her like a toy, and she liked it. She liked feeling the older woman's tight grip around her waist, the way she was able to easily pick her up and put her up on her lap.

She was usually never this needy. The majority of the time, she was satisfied with one orgasm, though this time, Taeyoung wanted more. She wanted more of Bada.

“i-inside,” Taeyoung just barely audible mumbled out.

“Mmmm, didn’t catch that one more time,” Bada mocked.

“I- just pl-please.” Taeyoung felt like she was going to go crazy.

“Say it clearly for me.”

Bada looked to the side of her and met with the youngest girl's eyes blown wide, staring back at her.

“And Sowoenie” Bada demanded. Picking up her pace, she drew little whimpers from Taeyoungs as she continued to tease her entrance.

“Need you i-inside,” Taeyoung finally choked out.

“Did you hear that, Sowoenie?” Bada looked back over to Sowoen, seeing her immediately shake her head yes.

With that, Bada gave no further warning as she plunged her cock into Taeyoungs waiting core, eliciting in her letting out a loud-high, pitched moan, followed by her previously stoic stature faltering. She had lunged forward, being caught by Bada, easily able to be held close to her with one arm. Not giving her any time to adjust, Bada started to shallowly grind her hips.

Every movement Bada made, Taeyoung felt so deep inside of her. She had her eyes closed and bit her lip. If she thought Sowoen was big, Bada was a whole other beast. She doesn’t know how she has been able to keep it confined in those sweatpants for so long. She had just been lucky the leftover combination of fluid of her and Sowoen had made it somewhat easier for Bada to sink into her heat.

“Thank you for stretching her out for me, Sowoenie,” Bada spoke before focusing back on Taeyoung.

She was in no rush; she was keeping the same slow, brutal pace, slowly dragging her cock out to the tip before plunging back in. Bada could feel Taeyoung writhing in her arms, doing nothing but holding her tighter, preventing her from finding any sort of stimulation herself.

“Such a slut. Want another alpha to cum in you already?” Bada spat.

“You’re just meant to be alphas little cum slut aren’t you?” Bada raised her free hand and tugged Taeyoung's hair, making her look at her.

“Answer me,” Bada demanded.

“Y-yes, pl-please I want alphas cum” Taeyoung begged, her body thrashing against Badas, trying to find any sort of relief, to no avail.

Bada looked back over to Sowoen, seeing that she had already grown hard again. Must be that rut, Bada thought to herself. She knew it was only a matter of time before Sowoen had gotten her first taste of knotting inside an omega before she’d want to do it again.

And, of course, Bada knew just the trick that would satiate the young alpha enough. Bada snaked one of her hands down Taeyoungs ass down her crack till she ghosted over her unbreached hole. Immediately feeling Taeyoung struggle in her grasp again.

“Stop it. You said you would help Sowoenie,” Bada growled.

Thankfully Taeyoungs asshole still had remnants of her and Sowoens combined fluids dripping in and around the unbreached hole. Bada slowly started pressing, hearing Tayoung let out a string of No’s followed by a loud gasp as Bada inserted the tip of her finger inside her ass.

Along with the shallow thrusts Bada was still giving, her finger had started going in and out of Taeyong's hole. This continued on for another couple minutes or so before Bada started to insert another finger, scissoring the two digits in her hole and stretching her out a bit. After all, Sowoen was going to need to fit, and Bada knew Taeyoung wasn’t going to be able to take her without at least a little bit of prep.

“Sowoenie, come here,” Bada motioned for the younger girl to come closer. The young girl moved quickly over to her.

“You’re hard again, aren’t you” She glanced between Sowoen's legs, her hard cock looking back at her.

“Y-yeah,” Sowoen shyly got out.

“You want to cum again, too, right?”

Sowoen nodded, a blush of red growing on her cheeks.

“Luckily for us, our omega has oh so graciously offered up her ass for you,” Bada said matter of factly.

Sowoen wasn’t really sure what to think. She obviously hadn’t done anal before, and she didn’t want to hurt Taeyoung. Then again, from what she's seen online, it's supposed to be different from a pussy, maybe even better. And that sounded good to Sowoen. Taeyoungs pussy had already felt so good around her. Whos to say her ass won’t feel even better. This is what Bada wanted her to do, after all. And how could she be wrong?

Bada had planted her feet on the ground and spread her legs a bit to make room for the maknae. Sowoen was kneeling right in front of the pair. She could see how Bada was still grinding her hips against Taeyoung.

“What’re you waiting for, Sowoenie? I stretched her out for you,” She heard Bada say.

Sowoen edged closer to them, grabbing ahold of her cock. Running the tip of it over Taeyoungs asshole, letting some of the spurting precum drips inside. Before she began to press her tip into the hole, she slowly started to feed her length into her. She swears she could hear Taeyoung let out a choked sob before it was muffled by Bada, shoving her face closer to her chest.

It had taken a few moments for Sowoen to get comfortable inside Taeyoung, and it felt good. It did feel different from a pussy. She wouldn’t say it felt better for her, but it was different. A good difference.

“I’m going to thrust first, then you okay? Try to keep up,” She heard Bada say.

Sowoen all of a sudden felt her mouth go dry at the last part of Badas' sentence, so she just shot the older girl a simple thumbs up.

They were clumsy at first, with them not being able to meet each other thrusts. But, somehow, they had gotten the hang of it. Each thrust made Taeyoung let out a guttural moan. The thin wall kept them from feeling each other's bare skin. It was a strange sensation to Sowoen. She was able to feel Bada's cock thrusting in as she pulled out. She could feel how strong Badas thrusts were against her shallow ones, and did it feel good.

Bada was the one who started to pick up her pace, it had been a couple of hours since this whole thing had started, and she was the only one who had yet to cum. She looked down against her chest to see Taeyoung's face stained with tears as she let out little whimpers into her sweatshirt. “Such a cockslut for us, Taeyoung, taking us at the same time,” Bada's voice was low.

“Isn’t she, Sowoenie?”

“Y-yeah, g-good omega,” Sowoen managed to stutter out as she was trying to focus on her thrusts working in tandem with Badas.

Bada was able to snake her hand between her and Taeyoung, reaching for her lower belly. Feeling the bump she made with every thrust of her cock indenting itself into her tummy made Bada was to go faster. Wanting to fill her up with her load.

Sowoen had managed to keep up with Bada's fast pace, feeling herself edge closer to the cumming as well. It seemed that the older woman was able to tell because she had planted her feet on the ground and started thrusting rougher and faster into Taeyoung.

By this point, Taeyoung's voice was hoarse. She was barely able to moan anymore, just letting out little gasps and whimpers here and there. She had lost count of the orgasms she had. Where they started and where they ended had begun to blur together.

The fast pace Bada had set with Sowoen managing to meet was starting to get to both of them, their thrusts becoming inconsistent. With Bada’s thrusts having become lazier, her just trying to feel as much as Taeyoung as possible. And Sowoen's rut mindset has seemingly made its appearance again with the way she thrust into Taeyoung in short bursts of energy.

Sowoen was the first one to break, unloading her load into Taeyoungs asshole. Out of some sort of miracle, Sowoen's knot hadn’t inflated the entire time. Perhaps it had something to do with how strong her first one of the night was earlier. She didn’t know. As she came, she let out a loud whimper, followed by herself becoming limp, draping her body over Taeyoung's lower half.

Bada, on the other hand, still had a few more thrusts left in her and used that last bit of energy to fuck into Taeyoung hard and fast, pressing onto the bump in her belly once more, urging her to want to fill the omega up, with her seed. Her loud grunts with every thrust getting louder, she wasn’t sure if it was animalistic instincts inside of her or the pure extortion she was feeling.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum” Bada growled as she came, her hips continuing to stutter in shallow thrusts inside of Taeyoung. The ropes of cum kept going with each movement of Bada's hips till her orgasm had stopped.

Moments passed, and Taeyoung began to recover a bit. She felt so full, Bada's cock still in her pussy and Sowoens still in her ass. Both of their loads deep inside her, she felt good, so warm, so satisfied. Her body was pressed up against Bada's much bigger one. The older girl's arms were holding her close. While Sowoen was draped over her ass, her head resting on her lower back, her arms somehow had found themselves wrapped around her lower body.

Bada reached one of her hands to brush Taeyoung's hair out of her face. Seeing that it was stained with tears.

“You okay?” Bada softly asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. You guys were just kinda rough,” Taeyoung said.

“Mmmm, you kinda asked for it.” Bada shrugged that shit-eating grin back on her face.

“Whatever,” Taeyoung muttered, too tired to poke back at Bada anymore. She opted to lean into the warmth inside of her, just enjoying the feeling of being so full.

Bada looked down at her watch, seeing that it read 5 am.

Shit, Bada thought.

It's way too late to bring Sowoen to her parent's house now. It is better for all of them if they just stay at her apartment for the night. It was only a short walk from the practice room, after all.

“We should go, it's late. You guys can both stay at my place for the night,” She announced.

“I’d agree, but good luck waking her up,” Taeyoung said, muffled into Bada’s sweatshirt.

Bada looked past Taeyoung and fixed her gaze on Sowoen. Somehow, the maknae had fallen asleep. She was now able to hear the little snores coming from the young girl. As she lay, her head resting on the crook of Taeyoungs lower back, and her cock still buried in Taeyoungs ass.

Bada sighed. At least she was having a good first rut.

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