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tasteleeknow · 1 year

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thinking about taking it slow w chan in terms of being intimate, but one day ur making out (or something similar) n he just loses it n cums in his pants & is a lil embarrassed n cute ab it SIGHHH

also love ur works!! if it’s not too much could i be ☁️ anon? tysm & have a beautiful day/night, you deserve it!!

thank you so much ❤︎ of course you can, hope this makes your day/night a little nicer! enjoy!

pairing: chan x fem!reader genre: smut, fluff. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 1k

afab!reader. grinding. profanity.

“Come swimming with me,” you whine, arms wrapped around your boyfriend's neck. You move your head as he tries to look over your shoulder at his computer monitor, blocking his view. You’d only moved in with him a week ago, very much ready to take the next step in your relationship. Or at least, a step. Whether you were doing the steps in the right order was a matter of personal opinion.

When he’d confessed his feelings for you he’d given you a whole speech about how serious he was; how he was determined to do this right. He took you on dates, bought you small gifts, pressed gentle kisses to your forehead. It was only because your lease was up and your roommate was moving overseas that he agreed you should move in. It made sense, he’d said.

“I’ve gotta finish this, baby,” he says in response to your begging, lips curved into a small smile. “Maybe tomorrow?”

You readjust yourself in his lap, pressing your chest firmly against him. “But it’s so hot today... please?” You press a brief, soft kiss to his lips.

“I—I shouldn’t.”

“But you want to?”

His eyes drop to your lips. “Yeah, baby. I want to.”

“I won’t tell,” you whisper.

“This is due at midnight,” he says, distracted—eyes still fixed on your lips.

“Alright,” you sigh, climbing off his lap. “I’ll just go alone today.” You press a kiss to the top of his head. “Good luck with your work.”

You turn to look back at him just before you leave the room. He’s sitting back in his chair, hands gripping the arm rests. You smile, a fun idea popping into your head.

You dig through one of your moving boxes, searching through the clothes you didn’t use often enough to have bothered unpacking yet. “Yes!” You pull out a red one piece you hadn’t used since last summer, before you met Chan.

You rush to the bathroom to squeeze it on, satisfied with the way it pushes your breasts up your chest—cleavage tastefully peeking out the top. You grab a towel and your keys, sneaking out to find your boyfriend engrossed back in his work. You drop your belongings onto the kitchen counter, alerting him to your presence. He doesn’t turn from his screen, merely raising his voice enough to call across the apartment to you. “Enjoy your swim!”

You wander over to him, tapping him on the shoulder. He looks up, then down—eyes trailing down your body, halting for a noticeable moment at your chest. His eyes snap back to yours, looking guilty.

“Is that new?” he asks.

“This?” you tug at the elastic red fabric. “No, I just couldn’t find my other one. Must be packed up still.” You feel a twinge of guilt at lying to him, the first time you’d done so. You’d tell him later, after you’d had your fun.

His eyes drop to your chest again, so quickly you almost miss it. “Can I have a hug before I go?” you ask sweetly. He pulls his headphones from around his neck, dropping them on his desk so he can stand. You place your hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “Don’t get up.”

You throw one leg over his lap so you can lower yourself onto him again. He looks like you’ve just trapped him in a cage of lions. You can’t help huffing out a small laugh at his expression. You press yourself against him, arms around his neck. When you press a soft kiss to his cheek his arms slowly wrap around you in return. “Do you think you’ll finish in time?”

“Mm, think so.”

“Do you have time to kiss me?”

“Always.”

You press your lips to his, gentle at first, then—when he makes no effort to pull away—you slip your tongue into his mouth. He hums, arms wrapping tighter around you. You’d had a few close calls, a few moments where your more intense make out sessions had nearly slipped into something more. He’d always pull away, gently reminding you how he wanted to do it right—to show you he wanted you for real, not just for sex.

He was sweet. You loved him for it. But god you wanted him, especially since you’d been sharing a bed with him for the past week. He wouldn’t put it off much longer, there was no way either of you could last. He moans into your mouth when you roll your hips against him. Usually this was when he’d pull away, brows pulled together in concentration. Not this time. His hips lift up a little to grind up into you, the chair squeaking with his movements.

He pulls away from your mouth and his hand moves under your ass, each of his hands grasping a handful of you and kneading firmly. You’re a little taken aback. The last week must have gotten under his skin more than you’d realised. You pull away from his lips, leaning back to attempt to get a clear look at his face. He follows you, leaning forward to chase your lips.

“Channie,” you whisper, hands tangling in his hair to hold him back. His eyes meet yours, a little glazed over. You roll your hips hard, grinding down against his now very obviously hard cock. He groans, hand grasping at your waist to pull you down against him. “Fuck,” he groans. Then his mouth drops open and you’re in awe, taking in his blissed out expression. His hips stutter against you, then his face drops to your shoulder—his hot breath warming your skin. You take in what just happened, a warmth soaking into you where your cunt presses against his cock.

You pull his head up, fingers still tangled in his hair. “Did you just…?” you take in his expression, his cheeks are bright red.

“I—I’m—I’m sor—”

You press your lips to his, cutting off his embarrassed stuttering. He drags it out, pulling you closer each time you try to pull your lips away. When he finally pulls back he hooks his finger into your neckline—pulling the fabric away from your skin enough to get an eyeful of your breasts. “Don’t wanna wait anymore,” he mutters.

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

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bearhugsandshrugs · 3 months

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Dissecting Smut: Worthy

Hey, we recently had a short discussion on our Discord about how to write smut. While there are plenty of resources out there for different terms and what to consider for the more "technical" aspects, I thought it might be helpful if I go into how I build atmosphere, what kind of thoughts go into specific sentences, and so on.

So this is for all writers, but also of course readers!

Under the cut for explicit content

We're looking at the Bane-fucking scene from Worthy, Chapter 2. Previous to this Tav had been edged without release in Ch. 1, now Bane appeared, and he made Gortash lick his boots. I needed to now move into the Bane-fucking somewhat seamlessly, so I decided to have Tav undress him.

Everything in bold marked by me:

She walked over to him and took off the boots that Gortash had licked moments ago, the long streaks still visible. Bane stood up so she could undo his buckle, loosening his pants so that they dropped to the floor, and he stepped out of them while Tav pulled them away. He wasn’t wearing underwear or socks, so his thick thighs, large feet, and massive cock stood free immediately.

the long streaks still visible gives a visual queue for the reader. everyone can picture the dampness a tongue lick leaves behind. having this here connects the previous scene to Tav, who so far had been passively watching.

I wanted this to be size kinky so I made sure to mention Bane's size several times. Having her undress him helped make that clear as this was the time she really got up close to him, noticing how large he was (once again).

Sitting back down on the altar, he patted his lap before cupping Tav’s face with his hand, his palm larger than her cheeks. “Come. I know your cunt is begging for release.”

another size reference. it's subtle – just the mention of his palm against her cheeks, a generally tender gesture, drives that home

"begging for release" – tying this back to what happened previously (aka the edging in chapter 1). sometimes people struggle with writing smut that is embedded into the chapter or scene, and stuff like this is how I personally like to do it. Have characters banter, or refer to something that happened earlier. It doesn't always have to be sexual!

Tav looked around the room, taking in the scene once more, almost as if to figure out if this was all some sort of weird prank or if she had been privy to a spell that made her hallucinate. But the Banites, having stopped chanting, simply stood there and watched while Gortash sat on the back of his feet, staring at her with an unreadable expression.

this paragraph is me zooming out of the scene. if you imagine a movie, we had a lot of close ups (the boot licking, the descriptions of his size, the spoken lines). I like contrasting this every now and then by adding a description of the wider room/setting, to really anchor it in the moment.

The Banites are still there! They're mostly irrelevant for now but adding them here takes the edge off for the readers wondering what is going on with them. It also, yet again, ties it back to the earlier scenes in the fic

it also buys some time for pacing. Tav is still a bit hesitant because of her disbelief, so having her buy time feels authentic.

Gortash being mentioned makes sure we just don't "forget" about him. He's kneeling, he's "parked there", so to speak, so we acknowledge him even though he won't be a major part of the action. "closing" this makes sure readers don't keep wondering what happened to him and can focus on the action

“I hate waiting”, Bane roared, and his tone was sharp for the first time. Swallowing nervously Tav climbed into his lap, reaching down to guide his already hard erection into her, but his big hand caught hers before she could. “This isn’t anything to be rushed”, he interrupted her, looking into her eyes. Tav’s world started to spin – the fiery red pulled her in, quickening her heart rate while slowing her breathing, making her feel dizzy and lightheaded. “This is worship.”

He hates waiting but he doesn't want to rush – at first glance contradictory, just like I wanted Bane to come across. He has a specific logic to him that is all about him being obeyed. I put this section in specifically to build character and show that he has one rule: his word is law, immediately. he called out to her, she didn't immediately obey, hence the roaring. two seconds later he's issuing a new command. keep up, Tav

"worship": I made sure to throw in as many religious themes as possible, tying this into the overarching theme of making amends to a god

He took her hands behind her back, holding them and her in place at the same time, then brought his other hand between her legs. She was still wet, or wet again, it was getting hard to tell.

a slight callback to the previous scenes agains while also establishing that Tav is into what is happening (with a slight dash of dubcon)

Bane pushed one finger into her cunt without warning, and Tav gasped at the girth of it. When he added a second one she thought she would faint, moaning loudly as he pumped in and out of her.

Size kink! size kink! size kink!

"moaning loudly" - have the characters make noise!

The god took his time with her, adding flicks of his thumb against her clit until Tav’s eyes rolled back, then pulled his fingers back out to a protesting whine from her. Between them, pressed against both of their stomachs, was his large cock, and Tav licked her lips thinking about sinking down on him.

Establishing that she is into him here. She enjoyed it, she wants more of it, she makes it known (subconsciously!)

Utilize different senses to show pleasure: she can't focus her vision, she makes a sound, she licks her lips (touch/taste)

Humming with approval, Bane brought his slick-covered fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean. “Adequate”, he nodded and let go of her hands, then lifted her body up by her thighs as if she didn’t weigh anything. “Guide”, he commanded.

Bane is into Tav enjoying this. It's hot because this isn't non-con so having characters get turned on by the other's pleasure is always good. Have the characters react to each other!

"sucking them clean": nothing like throwing in some taste/touch references

Character/atmosphere building: while he is into her arousal, he is still Bane, so he bosses her around.

Tav reached down to push his tip against her entrance. Just the tip alone was wide, so wide, and when he lowered her body down on him she sobbed out a curse so loud it echoed through the hall as her walls stretched to accommodate him. From behind her, she heard Gortash suck in a deep breath.

Now, after building all this foreplay/tension, she's about to fuck him. We're really driving home the size kink so of course another mention of his girth

It's difficult for her to take him. We're switching between external view (push his tip against her entrance, lowered her body – this is all "looking down on them" phrasing as a narrator) and her feelings (wall stretching, sobbed out a curse – we're put into her sensations, helping us visualize it better) before going back into the wider setting (echoed through the hall, she heard Gortash)

check that I wrote "she heard Gortash suck in a deep breath", instead of "Gortash sucked in a deep breath". This phrasing is something I use a lot and it centers Tav, making it truly her POV.

“Fuck”, Tav panted, sitting still, unmoving, Bane’s cock twitching inside her as her muscles worked hard to fit him. The god chuckled deeply, then leaned back on the altar to rest his body on his forearms, watching her. “Worship me”, he demanded, voice booming through the room.

again, Tav needs time. I feel this makes it more authentic, so she sits still, giving her body a moment.

Bane is amused because he's this weird detached deity. Mentioning his odd mannerisms helps with that.

another religious reference in a commanding tone for tension/atmosphere!

It was almost too much and she hadn’t even started, but Tav rolled her hips tentatively into his, then raised her body so she could sink down on him again, spreading more of her juices on his cock. After a few repetitions she felt ready to ride him properly.

We're leaving the factual descriptions of the action for the sake of giving Tav a bit more POV by mixing in "it was almost too much" and "she felt ready"

Her pants were so loud she could barely hear herself think. Not that anything coherent was happening on her mind anyway – all she could focus on was the way Bane’s length pushed into her, rubbing at spots that made her whimper with need, and how his menacing eyes dragged over her body again and again, watching her cunt sink down on him, her tits bounce, and her mouth fall open.

More audio clues! She's fucking him now, so I'm showing her arousal here with the panting. Not using "moan" was a deliberate choice: She is panting from exertion, too. Moaning would not have made that point.

The second, very long sentence centers how she experiences Bane all while letting us know what Bane is doing. Tav is so into it that everything fades to black. It's just fucking Bane, so the descriptions are also only fucking Bane.

Bane, still half shadow, half man, felt different than anything she’d ever experienced. Every inch she took in dragged out a new sort of desire, every part he touched burned her core with need. But he was breathing heavily too, flaming eyes half-closed with lust, and hands clenched into fists.

if it's just Bane, what does that mean? He's a god, after all. I mentioned in the chapter earlier that he was a shadowy figure, so I wanted to include that here, so that readers don't wonder about that. Nothing more distracting than dropping in a particular description of something and then never bringing it up again!

He's aroused too and that shows through his tensing body. It's good fucking.

After a particularly slow roll of her hips he groaned and sat up, bringing his hands down to her ass to pull her into him. “Don’t tease”, he growled. “Submit.” And with that he started to pound into her, slamming his hips upwards with force. Tav’s breath caught in her throat, but when a shadow enveloped her breast, sucking on it with greed, her cunt started to spasm around him.

it doesn't matter if Tav was teasing or just taking it slow because he's massive, here's another part where we get to witness Bane's arbitrary demands.

I decided not to have a long build up for her at this point, and rather have her come almost suddenly. Why? She's been edged the entire first chapter so I didn't want to repeat myself, Bane is not into the whole edging thing right now, and I wanted to show that she has little control over how things go, even in her orgasm. Instead of a slow build up with references about how she's climbing, Bane sucks on her tit and she gets so overwhelmed she comes on the spot.

“G-gods”, she came so forcefully she punched his chest, crying out a curse while gasping again and again, waves of accumulated pleasure releasing all at once while he bounced her on his cock. Between their legs her cunt gushed out spurts of wetness, and Bane huffed with approval as it dripped down his balls and alongside the insides of his thighs.

yes she's calling on the gods while fucking one. i found it funny :D

punching his chest with her comparably small hand as another reflexive action. rationally she would never punch Bane. but she's overwhelmed, so she does

She squirts all over him and Bane is into that. Again reflecting her pleasure by having another character react to it. Show, don't tell, how hot this is.

“Good girl”, he praised her, slowing his movements, and Tav blushed at the unexpected compliment. Suddenly, spotting something behind her, Bane chuckled. “See what the Black Hand thinks of your worship.” Tav turned her chest and crooked her head so she could see Gortash behind her, still kneeling in front of the altar, his hands clasped on his back. His cock was half-hard, and down on his thighs she spotted a small puddle of cum.

we're slowly zooming out now: at first Bane talks to her, pulling our attention away from specific body parts to a conversation. By asking her to look at something I'm gently widening the scene for the readers so we can get into the description of what else is/was happening in the room

Gortash! yes. he's still kneeling. we're not surprised by this because it was mentioned earlier. but he came untouched: this also drives home the point about everyone being into this, plus it's a hot kink, and last but not least it ties him into the scene. If I hadn't have him come here, I probably would have had him exchange words with Bane to subtly include him back into the scene.

The chapter goes on for longer (including knotting), but I'm gonna stop at this point. Happy to expand more if anyone wants me to!

If you made it this far: wow, thank you. Let me know if this was helpful, or insightful, or interesting! And if you have a specific scene from one of my fics you'd like me to dissect (smut or otherwise), send me an ask!

#my writing #worthy #bg3 smut #smut writing #writing resources

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everysongineverykey · 1 year

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if you wanna know how i think philip and benoit ended up married, well- blanc always introduces philip as his “partner” everywhere they go and philip doesn’t like it. it confuses people, you see! do you know how many times people have met him and turned to blanc and said “i thought you worked alone,” or asked philip condescendingly if he’s sure he isn’t jealous at all that his partner gets all the credit for their cases while his name’s not even in the articles about them? but blanc doesn’t like the term “boyfriend” (and, frankly, neither does philip- they’re too old for that), and philip can’t help but cringe at the word “lover”, so there aren’t many other options.

he doesn’t mention this annoyance of his to benoit, of course. the man’s a semi-public figure who’s in the news fairly often- it’s not for philip to decide how much the public knows about blanc’s personal life. five years into their relationship, though, they’re at a dinner party hosted by an uncle of a friend of a sister of benoit’s, and after a few introductions and a few misunderstandings, philip says mildly to blanc that he wishes he’d stop introducing him that way. doesn’t he see how it confuses people?

blanc chuckles and points out that philip’s affectation for calling him by his last name doesn’t exactly make it easier for people to figure out the nature of their relationship. philip rolls his eyes. “well, i did ask you,” he reminds blanc. “i asked you if you wanted me to stop calling you that on our first date, and what did you say? ‘no, no,’ you said-” his imitation of blanc has an even more ridiculous accent than the real thing- “‘i don’t think i could get used to you callin’ me benoit all the time.’”

the real blanc grins. “that’s cause i heard you say benoit once when we first met and you pronounced it- now, how did you pronounce it? say it with me: be-noyt.”

philip does not say it with him. he looks down at his plate and frowns, humbled slightly. “i took one french class for a semester and dropped it,” he mumbles. “all those damned tenses. it’s a miracle they know when anybody’s doing anything. look, this isn’t about your name. i just- well, i just-”

he just- what? it’s silly anyway. he spreads his hands as if searching for the right words, then drops them in defeat. “never mind. whatever. whatever. partner’s fine. you know what, forget i said anything. how’s your steak?”

blanc just looks at him, blue eyes inscrutable. god, his eyes are the bluest philip’s ever seen. you have to try not to lose yourself in them. philip gave up on that a long time ago. right now, there’s something in those eyes that makes him worry he’s brought something up that blanc’s going to fret over and not let go, terrified of hurting philip’s feelings.

a week later, blanc comes home from work with a satisfied, almost smug look on his face. “you’re right,” he says simply, arms crossed, smiling impishly. “you’re absolutely right, philip. i’m tired of calling you my partner. and not just because you would be completely useless in a murder investigation, bless you, sweetheart, but because i’ve finally thought of something else i’d like ta call you better.” he reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a small box, and it doesn’t take philip any detective work to realize what’s in it. “so, my darlin’, if you’ll have me, i’ll make sure everyone i meet knows you’re my husband. maybe you can even take my name- then i can call YOU ‘blanc.’ wouldn’t that be somethin’?”

and just like that, philip remembers why he puts up with it all.

#knives out #glass onion #benoit blanc #do these two have a ship name yet. whatever. my heart melts whenever i think about them💙💙💙#the funny amogus detective and his breadmaking husband have my ENTIRE heart. rian johnson what do i have to do #to get you to put more philip in the next movie(s).

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bingoboingobongo · 1 year

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Can I ask for the 141 gang (+ Alejandro) reacting to a y/n that will yell at people in german like an angry spanish mom when angry?

task force 141 + reader yelling in german

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

Warnings: explicit language, potential mistranslations/bad german

A/N: i don't speak german and i don't have a spanish mom so these are pretty short umm enjoy?

simon "ghost" riley:

alright so ghost is definitely not the kind of guy who gets caught off guard very easily

so when something goes wrong in your mission and your german starts slipping through he's not necessarily surprised

he saw in your records that you were fluent in german but you never spoke it in front of them so he was definitely a little confused when you started yelling in a foreign language

that being said german is a very fun language to be angry in so good choice anon

now ghost himself doesn't really know any german but years of being in a multinational task force has taught him a few things

he can recognize a few of the more common insults

so when you're ranting about how the team member that messed up the mission is a piece of scheiße and an arschloch

he knows you're calling him a piece of shit and an asshole

usually he just lets you blow off steam and continue ranting

partially because he doesn't want to get involved and also because he doesn't really have a clue what you're saying

john "soap" mactavish:

alright so soap was completely taken aback when you pulled up suddenly speaking german

it had been a really long day and as much as you love soap he just kept pestering you and it kind of pushed you over the edge and then the german came soon after

now soap does pick up languages pretty easily so he can sort of get an idea of what you're saying

but it's all happening really fast and his german just isn't good enough for him to comprehend

so he just kinda stands there and listens to you yell at him

and no offense but he also has to fight the urge to smile because 1. you're pretty when you're angry and 2. he's never seen you speak german before and you do it with such an intensity and speed he's kinda in love with you

once he feels like you've blown off all your steam he'll give you a little "you all good now?" look and if the answer seems like a yes he'll move in for the hug

and of course you apologize because you really didn't mean anything you said but everything has just piled up and you needed to get it off you chest

and he just squeezes you tighter and tells you it's all okay and he understands

and ofc it actually is all okay but he definitely does not understand

kyle "gaz" garrick:

alright so gaz actually took german in school so he knows it pretty well

that being said he knows a very school curriculum-centric version of german

which means he knows a lot of random phrases and not very many colloquial/casual terms

so when someone messes up your shot and almost ruins the whole mission and you start going off in rapid fire german

you know gaz is here to partially understand you and offer support in the form of very broken german

he doesn't know very many insults but you called the soldier an arsch mit ohren (ass with ears) and ding ding ding

gaz knew what that one meant

(sort of he had to take a minute to process it and derive the implied meaning from it)

afterwards he asks you to reteach him german and it becomes a thing you two do together

john price:

alright so john obviously knew you could speak german he saw it in your records

and he also tested you on it when he first recruited you onto the task force

but what he didn't expect was for it to come out when you get angry

and he also didn't expect it to be so fast lol

you were dropping insults in german faster than the speed of light fr

he knows a fair bit of german just from his time in the army and even he was struggling to keep up with you

afterwards he gives you a pat on the back and complements you on your german

you're not sure if he fully understood what you were saying though because you definitely said some things that shouldn't warrant a complement

alejandro vargas:

alright so alejandro had absolutely no idea you could speak german so the first time it came out he was flabbergasted fr

it also took him a while to understand what language you were even speaking in to start with

you were ranting to him about your day

and alejandro knows that the best thing to do is to stay silent and just let you tire yourself out during these times

and since you had started out in english he had kinda stopped listening and was only doing it halfway

but then you randomly switched to german

and it took him a moment to even recognize that you switched to another language

english is alejandro's second language and now you speaking a whole nother language

i mean alejandro is smart but mans had no idea what you were saying

that being said he's really good at reading you so he just nods/hums whenever it seems like you want him to and it works out well

rodolfo "rudy" parra:

alright so you did mention to rudy that you knew german and he's been secretly learning it so he can surprise you with it

but one day you got really mad about this one thing and you started going off in rapid fire german

and then rudy realized that his daily duolingo lessons were nowhere close to getting him to your level

he was kinda in shock/kinda freaked out by your sudden german outburst

he knew your anger wasn't directed at him but german can be a very angry language and he was intimidated nonetheless

he lets you say your piece and then after (when he knows you're not angry anymore) he asks you to translate everything you just said

because at the end of the day rudy loves listening to you talk (even if it is in german) and he wants to be able to understand what you're saying

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maaarshieee · 1 year

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i see, u needed dottore ideas so IM GONNA DROP ONE EVERY WEEK 🎉

angst to fluff dottore when he decided to lash out on y/n after accidentally ruining his papers and he told y/n to leave him alone!! y/n proceeds to ignore him for weeks and he's starting to feel guilty

dottore meeting y/n through another mad scientist in sumeru. the scientist experimented on y/n and dottore grew fond of y/n. something happened that almost killed y/n so he got mad AND TOOK HER AWAY! THE SCIENTIST WAS FOUND DEAD AFTER A FEW DAYS

i like angst because i like hurting myself... anw im gonna be weekly anon.... HMMM

- weekly anon

⎯⎯ ୨ 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ୧ ⎯⎯

➢ Iʟ Dᴏᴛᴛᴏʀᴇ x Gɴ!Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➢ 1.9k ᴡᴏʀᴅs ┊ Hᴜʀᴛ/ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ

➢ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

a/n - welcome to my hell, weekly anon. and omg I WOULD APPRECIATE THAT FRRR YOU HAVE ALL MY LOVE /P. also i would like to add that i only do long-term relationships with dottore (since childhood or akademiya) bc i feel like it would go very yandere or toxic. i just prefer if dottore had a deeper and more meaningful relationship for a long time! i hope you don't mind anon 😭 i can do variety of readers but my fav is when the reader is also sick in the head like he is. anyways THANKS FOR THE REQUEST AGAIN!! titled, "need you", have a nice day/night!!

↬ cw: established long-term relationship with reader, mentions of experiments and torture, canon typical violence, slight obsession (dottore and reader), couple fights, reader crazy like him fr

Dottore never raises his voice at you.

Just a snark remark here and there, would scold you for your chaotic antics in his lab from time to time. But would never raise his voice at you. Well, intentionally, of course. There were times before when he'd yell at you, but they were never too serious, or loud enough to startle you.

Today was different.

He was already in a foul mood when it all happened. His experiments were giving him a headache rather than enjoyment lately, and the workers he assigned simple tasks that anyone could do in a span of a few days all failed. Things were not going as planned, even his research hit a dead end.

And what did you do to even worsen his mood?

Spilled coffee on his piles of papers. It was an accident, of course. You were tripped by a discarded pen on the floor and stumbled to his desk, hand letting go of the cup as you caught yourself before you hit the ground. He can look past your mistakes since it was you, of all people. But his day has been one of the worse ones yet and his sense of rationality was clouded by his frustrations, letting his anger burst out to you.

"Ah, shit—" You hiss at the painful burns of your hot coffee that landed on your hand but forced yourself to ignore it and instead tried to grab the ruined files, to attempt fixing, or at least dry it but before you could do so, Dottore slammed his hand on the desk.

Startled, you froze like deer a caught in headlights, eyes wide in shock. The impact was so loud in the quiet lab that it rang throughout the spacious area and all the segments present in the room had halted from whatever they were doing, all eyes on the both of them.

"You moron," He spat with venom, a scowl on his lips, and beneath his mask, you could tell he glaring at you with those ruby eyes of his. The hairs of your skin stood as your heart began to palpitate, unsure of what to do under his furious gaze. "Do you know how long it took me to finish all these?"

It was the first time in years you'd seen him so mad at you, your hand began to shake, so you folded your arms behind you, trying to mask your already obvious distress toward him. Cold sweat began to form at your neck whilst you tried to open your mouth to speak, "I- well-"

"Speak up when I'm talking to you."

Technically, your position in the Fatui is much lower than Dottore's. You were his personal assistant, the person who takes upon tasks with much more difficult since you're much more competent than most soldiers. So, it meant you were under his command. But that didn't mean he treated you like a mere soldier.

Well, at least not until now.

You went frigid at his demand, head hung low and eyes on your toes, hands clenched to fists. You tried your hardest to talk louder for him, to follow his orders, but all you could do was let out a meek; "I apologize for ruining y-your papers..."

Dottore heaved out a heavy sigh, pulling back his chair and sitting on it, arms crossed as he stared you down condescendingly. "Your apology is utterly useless." You flinched at the tone of his voice. He pushed the pile you'd ruined to the side and threw them all in a garbage bin, your bottom lip quivering as tears threatened to escape your eyes. "Leave. I don't wish to see you again."

You snapped your head up at that, stunned that he'd even say such a thing to you. "W-wait! Let me at least make new files for you-" You pleaded, taking a step forward but he clicked his tongue, annoyed, whilst he grabbed a new piece of paper and began writing. "Leave me alone. Be of use while you're at it."

Were those files that important? More than you? You swallowed down all the words at the tip of your tongue, gritting your teeth, and just nodded, bowing respectfully, as if you were just one of the Fatui's myriad of soldiers, and walked outside of the laboratory, ignoring the concerned and worried looks of his segments.

And that's how it has been for the past few days. You still fulfilled your duties when Dottore tasked you with a mission, always delivering flawless results. Neither of you mentioned what happened that day. Dottore never apologized, and you never spoke about it, opting to ignore him as much as he's ignored you.

Usually, you would've made a fuss. Nagged him to apologize to you, since he'd hurt your precious feelings and because he loved you. But you hadn't said a word to him unless it was really needed. And you've started calling him sir. It made him frown when you first did.

Now, he was aware of what he did a few hours after he realized you were nowhere to be seen in his lab. Dottore searched for you out of instinct and only stopped himself when he remembered what he had said. He called you a moron. He told you to leave, and so you did.

But would he ever apologize to you upfront? When did he ever do that? Of course not. He expected you to come around at some point, but by day 3, he had grown more and more agitated. Dottore thought that he would alright with you, but he was proven wrong. Not when his patience was beginning to thin and snapping more at others the longer this went on. Hell, torturing his lab rats didn't quell his bothered mind at all.

And you? Well, you missed everything about him. The tasks he gives you were easy enough, but you've been trying to distract yourself from them by holding yourself back. Finishing faster meant reporting to him, and gods know you were hanging on a thread of self-control to not launch yourself into his arms when you see him again.

You planned to ignore him until he'd grovel on his knees, well at least something similar to that because he'd never do such a thing, even to you (but it would be a nice sight if he ever did) but your will to continue and your spite toward him was slowly beginning to crumble.

The two of you were never meant to be separated anyways.

So when he started assigning tasks that required you to be close to him, you knew his stubbornness to not feel an ounce of longing for you was dwindling down. You swear you could feel the apology he wanted to say with his own lips by his mere presence, but he still attempted to turn a blind eye to his emotions, especially when he felt a rush of ecstasy when you moved closer to him.

"Tch, this guy..." You chuckled under your breath as your expression softened when you watched him walk away to fetch something, letting your shoulders sag, tired. "Fine fine, I'll take the lead..." As much as you prefer he would make a much more straightforward move, you'll just take what you can get. It's not like you can take much more of this anyways.

The next day, you approached his desk at your own whim, a stack of files in your arms. Dottore paused his writing, putting down his pen then gestured at the multiple folders you held, confused. "What's all this?"

"I redid the files you threw away a few weeks ago." You carefully placed them in an empty space on his desk, a small smile on your lips as you watch him purse his, taking the document on top of the stack. "I wrote them exactly how you wanted them. Margins, your handwriting, organization, paper, and stuff."

He must say, he was quite impressed with your dedication. What you said was true, you did make it just the way he liked his files. It made the corners of his lips twitch, opening his mouth and almost letting a thank you slip out, but he caught himself. "First sentence in and you've made so many grammatical errors..." You heard him mutter under his breath whilst he continued to scan through the papers.

You gave him an annoyed smile, hands behind your back as you said through gritted teeth; "Are taking them or not?" Maybe you just imagining it, but you could've sworn his shoulders shook lightly at what you said.

"I suppose this'll do." Dottore decided, putting away some of the documents inside his drawers. You proudly nodded at yourself and opened your mouth to say something else when you felt his gloved hand touch your cheek. You paused, staring at him with surprised and questioning eyes but he just caressed your skin, trailing from your cheek and down to your jawline.

"I'm sorry," He wrote.

You couldn't help the huge, triumphant smirk that graced your lips. Though, he didn't seem to mind, allowing you to slip off his glove and press your hand on top of his, leaning against his touch. "Now, what's this supposed to be?" You teased, narrowing your eyes at him humorously. Dottore scowled at your comment, but never pulled his hand away from you. "Forget it." He hissed, nails digging into your skin, but the slight pain only made you grin and cheeks flush.

Easily, you forgave him when you moved his hand toward your lips, pressing a kiss on his palm, before carefully slipping back his glove onto his hand. With another loving kiss on his knuckles, you bowed at him, but not as a soldier that work for him. No, but as you, his teasing lover who loves to rile him up.

Just as you were about to take a step back, to leave to resume your duties, Dottore grabbed your arm and pulled you behind his desk and onto his lap. Before you could raise any protests, he gently grabbed your chin between his fingers and tilted your head upwards, a little breathless at his sudden actions. "Now, where do you think you're going?"

Similar to the day he rose his voice, you felt yourself grow nervous under his stare. But compared to it, there was excitement flowing in your veins as his arm wrapped around your torso, his breath hot against your lips, mere inches away from one another.

"I have a mission in Liyue, you know?" You say shakily, pressing your body close to his and wrapping your around his neck, in contrast to your words. Dottore absolutely loved the sight of red painting your cheeks, the warmth of your body, the vulnerability you only show to him that he's so addicted to.

Undoubtedly, he missed you so much. But Dottore was never good at words when it comes to how he felt. Actions though? Occasionally subtle to the point, it gets on your nerves, but there are times when he touches you like a starved man. You're utterly obsessed with it. With him.

Clearly, you're never meant to be separated from one another.

Dottore only scoffed at your excuse and before you could say another word, your lips connected.

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#il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #:;marshie.writes #:;requested #:;headcanons #:;oneshots #:;il.dottore #:;weekly.anon

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epiclamer · 1 year

Note

Ayyooo

I want to request something 💃🏻💃🏻

Can you pretty please write something about a villain who's super depressed and sick and hadn't gotten out of their bed in their shitty apartment for days, and supervillain (for whatever reason) finds them in this state and takes them to their big, luxurious house and taked care of them? Lots of blankets and tea please 👉🏻👈🏻

Thank you in advance!! (If you're willing to do it though, you're completely free to do whatever you want of course)

This sounds fun…

CW: suicide mentions

Evil Nanny

On occasion, Villain let themselves fall, knowing full well that no one would be there to catch them or pick them back up and sew together all of their broken pieces. They knew that every time it would have to be them. Their own hands, their own care, their own treatments, their own love. Yet regardless of the ache it caused in their heart, they let themselves go.

Every time.

Villains excuse was that they were too tired to fight the urge anymore. That after all of the years of keeping themselves afloat, if the waves started up again they wouldn't tread.

A part of them despised this choice--some inner child bullshit they assumed--but they had reached a point where they couldn't be bothered. A point where days blended into months and months blurred passed in a blink of an eye. Where every small effort took the rest of their energy for the day.

However, at this time, on this day, it was different, because finally something happened that wasn't of the criminal's hand.

There was a knock on the door and at first Villain was sure they were hallucinating. The outside world felt so foreign, so illusory, that they couldn't believe it was real, honestly they hadn't even registered it until it sounded out a second time.

Quietly, like a mouse, the villain crossed their living room until their nose was a centimetre from their front door. With barely contained curiosity, Villain opened before a third tap could be made. Standing there, umbrella in one hand and the other shoved into their fancy suit pocket, was the supervillain.

Villains former mentor and active pain in the ass.

Former being the key word in this situation, as they no longer communicated with each other after a certain... disagreement between the pair that hadn't ended on good terms.

Supervillain didn't wait to be invited in. They snapped their umbrella shut and waltzed right past the other, having the decency to wipe their shoes on the mat before they tracked into Villains kitchen. Moving faster than the villain's exhausted brain could follow, they simply closed their eyes and took a deep breath, they could barely stand themselves at the moment, now they had to withstand their previous mentor without killing the both of them.

Just a few minutes.

"Your cupboards are empty." Supervillain turned in the villain's direction, face completely emotionless per usual. "Do you have a pantry?"

Villain could barely stop themselves from hysterically laughing, they were almost tearing up at the comment. "I live in a no bedroom studio apartment above a DollarMart. Do you seriously think I have the luxury of owning a pantry, let alone enough food to get me through a week."

The supervillain huffed, rolling their eyes at their former mentee's insolence. Never--under their command--would they have allowed such rude behaviour, but they let them off the hook just this once. It looked like they could use a break.

"I haven't seen you around lately, when you didn't answer my calls I figured I would drop by to make sure you're not dead."

"You wouldn't let me die if I tried."

"You were never the successful type..."

If there was one thing worse than eternal suffering it would be dealing with the supervillain, or maybe those two things went hand in hand.

The master criminal didn't berate the villain any longer, they looked uptight and unamused all at the same time. Like they couldn't be bothered but walked on their tiptoes. Villain had always hated how unreadable they were when they seemed to be able to tell the villain's deepest secrets with a split-second look.

"Have you been sleeping enough?"

"More than enough." The two voiced in unison, Supervillain's tone was considerably lighter than Villains and when they smiled it was like they were back to being teacher and student; with the supervillain constantly finishing their sentences like they didn't even need to ask the question.

Just a few minutes.

Villain blinked and the other was gone, strutting through the tiny apartment as they collected a few belongings which appeared important to the villain. Pretty much anything that wasn't coated in a layer of dust after not being touched for the last months.

The criminal was just about to object when they were interrupted. "I'm taking you home." Their mouth fell open in shock at the audacity.

"Excuse me?"

Supervillain grinned, "you're excused. Kudos for apologizing first, don't worry I do forgive you."

Villain spluttered in disbelief, their former mentor had barged into their home, insulted their house and mental health struggles before excusing them for an issue they had never started. They couldn't tell if they wanted to sob or laugh more.

"You're kidding."

They smiled apathetically before shoving the few possessions into the villain's arms and turning them towards the door. Supervillain patted their back in a "move ahead" gesture as they flung open the door, a black limo waiting patiently with the engine running.

Clearly, the look on Villains face spoke more words than anything coming out of their mouth in a jumbled mess as it prompted a short chuckle from the supervillain. Their piercing gaze returning to normal when the villain's face dropped in disapproval, anyone on the outside would figure both of them were having a horrible time. But Villain found the situation more so on the side of hilarious rather than angering.

"If you won't take care of yourself, then unfortunately, for the both of us, I will have to do it for you." They shrugged, picking at their cuticles, a nervous habit. "Or at least until your will to live returns."

The villain snorted a laugh, heading towards the awaiting car on wobbly legs. "Good luck. It's probably still somewhere in your torture chambers, or do you continue to call them training cells?"

Supervillain held a gentle kind hand on the villain's elbow to help keep them steady until they were seated comfortably on leather limo seats. Where they were then wrapped in a warm, fuzzy blanket and their belongings were replaced with a steaming mug of tea.

"I must say, I don't miss your company often, Villain."

"Pff, thanks." They couldn't hold back their grin this time, satisfaction flooding their chest at the thought of the supervillain fuelling a special hatred towards them.

"But," Supervillain added, tapping the tip of their umbrella against the carpeted flooring. "I can never get enough of your insufferable attitude."

Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all, Villain hoped, staring down at the loose leaves in their tea with a smile.

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novankenn · 2 months

Text

Unbreakable Machine Arcs (1)

(This is a rewrite of a story I posted on FF.net)

Nora lay upon her bedroll the night before initiation. Beside her, Ren lay, already deep asleep. Sleep evaded her at that moment. She was excited to finally be at Beacon with her best of buds. Of course, she was also excited about what adventure initiation would bring, but there was something else. The memory of a kind family that had taken them in this past year. She could almost smell the pancakes Jasmine made each morning. She could hear the hearty laughter of Nathaniel as he sat there surrounded by his family.

It would be true to say she missed them, and she figured Ren did too. They had done so much for the pair, it was almost unfathomable. She reached over her head and into the outside pocket of her pack sack. After a couple of minutes of fumbling, she found it and pulled it free of the other odds and ends that filled the pocket. Opening her hand, she placed the small articulated figurine upon her stomach. It had been a gift, a special present from Nathaniel to her. Taking a chance to raise her head up, she glanced about to make sure no one was watching. Satisfied, she lay back down and focused her full attention on the figurine. Cupping her hands around the present, she took a deep and slow breath. Holding it for a few seconds before letting it free, just as slowly as she had taken it.

“Right arm.” she whispered. The figurine responded and slowly raised its right arm above its head.

“Left arm.” she whispered again, achieving the same result. She smiled, happy with the small success.

“Spin.” she whispered through her grin, and before her eyes the delicate figure twirled like a ballerina upon its stand. Hearing a noise to her left she cupped her hands over the spinning toy ceasing its motion. She remembered his words of warning, people could and would often take this ability of hers in a negative light.

“Gone are the days of the puppeteer.” he had said, “we've been replaced by the hunter and huntress.”

Remembering his soft voice returned the smile to her lips, and brought back another memory, another memory; one of the two who wanted to be with her. Two who wanted to see the world, and be at her side. Those thoughts caused her smile to wane and then end.

“I hope they’re okay.” Nora whispered to herself, and was a little startled when Ren answered her.

“I’m sure they’re fine, Nora.” Ren whispered to her, as he turned his head to face her. “They’re probably arguing with each other about something trivial, like they always did.”

“Probably.” Nora responded, “But they looked so… so sad when we told them we would be leaving, and coming to Beacon.”

“I know, bur as much as they wanted to come with us… as much as I would have enjoyed them being at our side… you know why they couldn’t.”

“I know.” Nora mumbled. “I just wish…”

“I know you do. But we will see them again.”

“We will?”

“There are holidays and term breaks. We’ll make sure to go back to Ansel on every one of them.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Ren replied, as he reached over and gave Nora’s wrist a friendly squeeze. “We have a long day tomorrow. Try and get some sleep.”

Nora just nodded, and watched as Ren rolled away from her. She sighed as she closed her eyes. Her final waking thoughts of them.

/==/

In the darkness and mists of the Emerald forest, a pair of blond haired figures drudge through the foliage and undergrowth. Behind them, the disintegrating form of an Ursa.

“How much longer?”

“A few hours, I think.”

“You said that a few hours ago. So what makes you correct this time?”

“Because we can see the tower!”

“And how do you know that is the right tower? That could be a completely different tower.”

“Really? Really? How can that be anything but Beacon?”

“It could be Shade’s tower, or Atlas’s”

“We didn’t get that lost, to have had to cross an ocean or the desert.”

“So you ADMIT IT! We were lost!”

“Of course we were! You dropped the map in a RIVER!”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did!”

“No I didn’t!”

The pair of blonds continued to argue, totally clueless to the closing of an Ursa. It was drawn in by their annoyance, and anger, in addition to the loud voices they were arguing in.

/== Table of Contents ==/

#rwby #unbreakable machine doll #nora valkryie #jaune arc #joan arc #banned dolls #nora is a puppeteer

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meshlasolus · 2 years

Text

House Of Memories (33/?)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!reader

Warnings: kissing, fluff, some spicy things, Jealous obi-wan my dudes

Summary: Obi-Wan becomes very jealous over your new assigned partner, Mak Lotor.

A/n: OKAY GUYS IM BACK,,, i decided not to do two updates, and instead combined them both into one episode, it just felt like it all needed to be together idk... also Mak Lotor in my head is austin butler bc i have issues

also y'all if you like the story, maybe consider buying me a coffee :)

Words: 4.3k

(Gif by mcgregor)

It was the council's decision. It was their choice to put you through yet another uncomfortable situation, and by now, you couldn't help but feel like this dislike for you was purposely getting out of hand.

"You will be temporarily placed to assignment with Padawan Mak Lotor. You will be required to separate from your Master while he completes a mission on Dathomir with General Skywalker," Mace Windu took the lead on issuing the republics agenda for the week. Your face dropped, because you knew exactly what the council was doing. They sensed something with you, and you knew it. Whether or not they knew about yours and Obi-Wan's secret, they did not let on, but they knew something. They were awfully keen on keeping you both apart, even if it was only for a small bit of time. "Having dispersed all missions, this meeting is adjourned, please inquire me with any questions you have regarding your assignments."

You had just one question, which was: Why the hell are you doing this to me? You however expected that a question like that would result in a lecture you were not in the mood, or even willing enough to hear at all.

As you made your way into the hall, Obi-Wan shot you a sympathetic look that said, 'We'll talk about it later,' before he turned to Anakin to discuss the terms of their own new mission.

You nodded to him and continued down the corridor, hoping that nothing would stop you between the place you stood and the path to your apartment door. Funny thing though, luck was never on your side, and seemed to almost resent you.

"Where are you off to so early?" Of course....

You turned around a forced a smile onto your face. Mak Lotor was a lovely boy, who was well known for his skills with a lightsaber, although you could probably take him if you tried.

"I was hoping to turn in, but I don't think I could have slept with all the ruckus going on."

You had met him a few times, briefly, and knew that he looked at you in a way that perhaps he shouldn't, not that you have any say in how anyone should look at you, when you were practically the poster child for disobeying the laws of the Jedi order.

"If you'd like to join me, I find the meditation gardens are far more peaceful this time of the evening," he offered, the nod of his head causing his braid to whip around to the other side of his shoulder.

You thought about it for a moment. You didn't dislike Mak, not at all. He was a kind, and genuine person that most of the female padawans tended to draw towards. You needed to get to know him better for this next week anyway, and you figured it probably best to do that before you flew into the fire of a battle. You tilted your head to the side before deciding.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt... I'm sure it will be lovely."

He smiled sweetly before letting you catch up to his side and he could lead the way.

Obi-Wan could not pay attention to a single thing that Anakin said, he was far too focused on the conversation taking place several feet away from him, and now the interaction had turned into steps down the hallway.

He didn't like the way that boy looked at you, the way he smiled at you like you lit up the room. You did light up the room, but that was beside the point. He didn't like feeling that this boy perhaps harbored things for you like he did.

When he saw Mak move his hand to the small of your back when you both turned down the hallway, he just about lost it, his face became red, and his brows were visibly strewn with aggression. Mak was touching you where only he had touched you. He was putting his hands on you in any capacity to be quite frank, and it was not okay. It was only now that poor Anakin even realized his former Master could not be bothered with the information that was being offered. He waved a hand in front of his face like a five-year-old, just to gain his attention again.

"I'm sorry, Anakin, but we'll need to go over this tomorrow. I'm a bit too distracted at the moment." he admitted, letting his head fall parallel to the ground in shame over not listening to the important information his former Padawan was trying to relay to him.

"Is this about them pairing her with Mak Lotor?" Anakin could see right through his old Master, although maybe he didn't see everything, for he had no idea of the relationship status you both held. You didn't truly label it anyways; it was just the beginning of something you didn't fully grasp the concept of yet. It was just the idea of 'to love and be loved in return.'

Obi-Wan sighed, un-wanting to admit that something so trivial was upsetting him so greatly.

"You can trust her; she won't let him step out of line."

"That's not what I'm afraid of," Obi-Wan's insecurities were rising all at once, every single thing that he'd thought of when telling himself that you could never love him in return. Those days were over, but the insecurities still remained, though usually on a quiet loop in the back of his mind. Now they were fully fronted, and the only things he could possibly think of right now.

Mak was your age, he was tall, good looking, and polite He was so much younger than Obi-Wan and had only lived about as much of a life as you have and could relate to you experience wise. He had charm that all the other Padawan girls seemed to fall for, and he'd hoped to the maker that you'd not be one of them. Oh, how he loved you, and if he lost you romantically to this boy, he'd snap. His jealousy was arising more than he'd like to admit, but Anakin could see it. He could feel it, as it became like a thick shroud in the force around him.

Jealousy and envy were two different things. Envy was craving the possession of something that was not yours, something that was held by another. Jealousy was the fear of losing something of value. He valued you to no end, so yes, he was jealous.

"She doesn't care for him like she does for you, she never could," Anakin tried to break the trance surrounding Obi-Wan, and it worked to an extent. He thought about the things you'd said to him when you thought he was dead. As horrible as it seemed, he held that confession close to him, because it was your first, he heard that you felt the same way. The first time he knew that his feelings weren't one sided, and he hadn't gone through so many sleepless nights for nothing. You loved him, but right now... he didn't know if that was enough. Love grows in places where you often don't expect it to.

"You're right. I'm sure it will be just another assignment. I'll see you tomorrow for take-off," Obi-Wan swiftly brought this conversation to an end. He knew Anakin meant well, but Anakin didn't know how far anything had progressed, and so he couldn't understand how deeply this concerned Obi-Wan. He wondered if he was enough for you, and if you would still see him as someone worth your time after you'd spent a week with this boy. This boy was in all aspects a better person for you to share a relationship with. Even despite the laws of attachment, you and Mak made sense.... but you and him? It was highly inappropriate to even think that a Master of his rank would have feelings for his Padawan that was a little over half his age. Especially one he had a hand in raising... it was preposterous, and anyone who didn't know you both would think that Obi-Wan was taking advantage of you...

But you loved him... and that was all he could think about as he walked back to the apartment. He may not be enough to deserve you, but you loved him anyways... and as soon as you returned from your outing, he was going to show you just how much he adored you in return.

"Okay your turn, truth or dare," Mak said, trying to speak through his fit of laughter. You were funny, or at least he seemed to think so.

"Truth," you said, as you'd only picked dares until this point. There wasn't much he could dare you to do that you would refuse, you were a Jedi after all... but the truth, especially when guarded by the laws of the old game, would have to be spoken whether you liked it or not... even if you didn't utter the words, the thought would slip into your signature, and you'd be outted. You were feeling a bit dangerous tonight.

"What's it like having General Kenobi for a Master? It's gotta be intimidating, right?"

You furrowed your brows, unsure of his question. Did Obi intimidate people? Was he seen as a threat?

"Not at all. I understand he can be rather stoic when others are around him, but when it's just he and I, or when it was he and I and Anakin, he's very gentle, and kind. He can be... protective, at times, but I don't mind that so much anymore."

"You don't feel pressure to be better because of him?" You weren't quite sure why this mattered so much, but it seemed to be important to him how you answered.

"I don't... I actually feel encouraged to do better by him. He's a good teacher," and a wonderful man, in whom I love dearly, you thought, but didn't dwell too much on it. "I've known him since before he was ever a knight, and there hasn't been a time since where he wasn't in my life."

"It must be nice, to have a real connection with your mentor..." he trailed, looking out into the city over the garden's balcony. "My master never really understood the way my mind works. I have this... blockage with the force, it's why I rely so heavily on my weapon. Instead of helping me work through it, he always just forced me to get over it and try harder the next time a problem would arise."

"I'm sorry," you apologized, but you weren't quite sure what you were sorry for... that his master was horrible, that he had this mental blockage, or that you couldn't understand his struggle. He was so sweet, genuine... you found a hard time believing anyone would treat him so, but then again, not everyone had a Master like Obi-Wan Kenobi, who was patient, and kind, and encouraging. "That must be hard."

"It gets easier with time. I just feel like I'm going to spend my whole life trying to please him and never get anywhere. The worst part is that..." he cut himself off from finishing that sentence, but you figured you had his meaning in mind.

"The worst part is that you care about what he thinks of you."

He nodded. You understood that, because even when you didn't know Obi-Wan fell in love with you, you cared so much about what he thought, and strived to make him proud. He always said he was, but sometimes you wondered if he meant it, because there were so many things you did wrong... Mak didn't have a Master like that and in all honestly, neither did many of the Padawans in this temple. Ahsoka did, only because Anakin followed after Obi-Wan. You didn't know him for very long, but you remembered Master Qui Gon being the same way.

"You know, your reputation proceeds you," he said, and you scoffed, thinking that you even had a reputation in the first place seemed utterly foolish at all.

"You think I'm a bad influence, then?"

"I meant your actual reputation, not the council's opinion of you. You're very insightful," he corrected you, and you softened a bit. He was very complimentary of you thus far, and seemed like he actually enjoyed your company, so perhaps this week's assignment wouldn't be so bad. Making friends wasn't always your strong suit, and envy over your abilities often times got in the way... but he didn't seem envious at all, just, for lack of a better word, fascinated with you.

"That's kind of you, I didn't know I had a reputation other than the council..." you didn't want to start on about the council, you promised Obi-Wan you would only rant to him about all the things that happened, and sometimes he would even try to use his influence to fix things that had gone against you. It might seem like favoritism, but it wasn't really, not when they had punished you for no reason to begin with. You changed the subject light heartedly, hoping to steer it back to the game. "Alright, truth or dare?"

"Dare..."

"Oh boy."

Obi-Wan was worried beyond reason by now. Relationship or not, he was still your Master, and you never left for more than an hour without telling him where you'd be.

He was pacing the floors, unsure of when you'd be back. He combed the temple for your signature, but it hadn't been opened to him, which meant you closed it off. Either you did that because you didn't want someone near you to hear your thoughts, or you did it because you purposely didn't want him to know where you were.

He tried to calm himself down, but the small green monster named jealousy was crawling back into his mind, filling it with doubts and more fears of losing you. It had been into the wee hours of the morning when he sensed your presence coming down the hall.

He went to the door, ready to open it, but then he felt a second presence... Mak was walking you back to your door? That was a bit possessive, wasn't it?

He could hear your soft giggles, followed by whispers of 'shhh, he might be asleep.'

Obi-Wan stepped back from the entranceway, and into the sitting area, waiting for you to come in, and leave the boy outside. When the door slid open, he heard him utter a quiet goodnight before you were inside, and it was closed again.

You weren't startled by seeing him, waiting up for you, but you were a bit surprised... he had to be up early tomorrow, didn't he?

"What are you doing up, still? You're going to be tired on your mission tomorrow," you approached him with concern, placing a hand on his face. He leaned into it, feeling more at ease now that you were here, with him.

"I can't sleep very well without you anymore," he covered. It wasn't a lie, because since you started sleeping with him every night, he'd grown used to the comfort that surrounded him. He kissed your head and helped you take off your cloak, walking it back to the rack by the door.

"I'm sorry I was out so late, I wanted to get to know Mak a little, he seems nice... I think you would like him."

No, he did not like him. Mak Lotor kept his little one out way past the time she usually turned in, and he could see in your eyes, he was not the only one who would be exhausted tomorrow.

"I'm sure I would," he responded, following after you to get ready for the night.

You began recalling the events of your day to him, as you always did before bed, but you had so much to say about the boy you'd been paired with for this week. He missed the days you would come home, and he would listen to you talk about Anakin losing the racing simulators again, or when you would help train a class of younglings with Ahsoka. He missed the days when you would come back and be happy to see him. You were already so taken by this boy, it was only a matter of time, now.

Once in bed, you found yourself curling around him, and smiled at the comfort it brought him physically and mentally, but only for a moment. He was still lying awake, thinking about how tomorrow he was going away, and you were going to be left with Mak Lotor. He would be gone for a week, and you'd be sleeping on your own, as would he. His mind wandered to places he shouldn't, because he knew you wouldn't do anything to betray his trust... not ever. He just couldn't stop himself from worrying. Normally he would meditate, clear his mind of anything that troubled him, and only focus on his breathing, or since you were with him, he would focus on yours.

He couldn't bring himself to meditate on this, he felt it needed more action, something physical, something like staking a claim.

"My love?" he asked softly, hoping you were still awake.

"Yeah?"

You sounded like you were just as conscious as he was, maybe even more so... did your thoughts trouble you, too? He wondered if as he did, you pondered about the mission, what it was going to entail.

"Are you tired?" he asked, his whisper growing a but louder now knowing you weren't sleeping, or even trying to.

"Not really," you admitted, and he breathed out slowly, read to enact his plan, to stake his claim.

He sat up, leaving you looking up at him from where you laid. You were confused for a moment, until you saw the look in his eyes. They were glazed with something you were unsure about, the moonlight doing little to aid your inspection, but the the look of them was hunger, and need. You were getting to know these parts of him very well as of recently, and you knew when he had that look in his eyes, he only wanted to love you, physically.

He leaned over you, coming close enough that your breath hitched, but eased upon his gentle kiss meeting your lips, moving slowly, but passionately, the way kisses were mean to be given. This man was the only one to ever kiss you, and yet you felt that no one else could do it like he could. No one could ever love you or know you like he did. He'd known you from the early stages of your life, knew every little habit of yours, every little expression, he could even read your thoughts without using the force... he just knew you.

His hands reached down for yours, finding them and bringing them to rest by your head on either side, starting by clenching softly around your wrists, then moving to open your palm, as his fingers gently weaved themselves with your own. He used them as leverage to push himself up and take a glance at you, laid beneath him in the dim light of the city outside his window. Your eyes were blown with the feelings of the moment, and your lips were slightly swollen with his kisses, with your hair fanned out behind your head. An angel, a complete vision of loveliness. You emanated light even in this dark room, in the small hours of night. She is the light incarnate... that will never change

"You're beautiful, little one..."

And then he was back, his lips venturing lower now, skimming over the skin of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent as he kept going. He tucked his head into the crook, while kissing, sucking, and even biting on the area when your neck met your shoulder. His short beard rubbed against the skin surrounding his target, and the sensation of the mild burn it gave you, well, you couldn't get enough. You wished he would let free one of your hands, you wanted so badly to thread your fingers through his hair, to tug on the strands softly and maybe push him to emit one of those groans you craved to hear. It was a sweet sound, the sound of his pleasure... even the smallest things could drive him to the heavenly noises, but you were held down by his hands on your own, and you doubted you were strong enough to get them free.

"Obi," you let out, slightly hushed as he hit a sensitive spot on your shoulder, making you to writhe beneath him at the contact.

He took that as a sign for him to do it again, accept he went full on the second time, nibbling the skin gently with his teeth, and truly acknowledging what it was to actually taste you. He was entranced with your taste, it consumed him, and he wanted more... more of your skin, more of you. He wanted so badly to make love to you tonight, to give you all of himself and show you what it really was to be connected in that way... but he wouldn't. He'd made up his mind long ago, that he would let you decide when that would be. If that was something you really wanted, then he was going to wait for you to tell him you did. He was going to wait until you were sure that it was something you were open to. You'd never been with a sexual partner in your life, and until you expressed to him that you were ready to lose that purity in yourself, he would be perfectly content to love you like this, in the most innocent form of love he could possess.... but wait-

Did you just-?

He kept on with his movements, to see if you would do it again, and sure enough, your hips bucked up into his in a smooth and quick motion, causing him to groan into your shoulder. The vibration sending tingles down your spine, and you craved to have his lips back on yours, but your hands were still trapped beneath his, and you were unable to coherently speak your desires to him... so you did what you thought was rational, focusing on his mouth, and using the force to bring it back to yours, along with the rest of him being thrashed around on account of your impatience. The force could be used in so many unholy ways, you'd thought about it before, but couldn't for the life of you gain the confidence to ask him about it. You were sure it was not a topic that was appropriate, even for the both of you. You were almost certain that thoughts like those would be wrong and using your gift for such things as that would not be something to express in words.

He kissed you deeper, exploring your mouth religiously, like it was the only thing that could bring him salvation.

You kept bucking your hips into his, and he had to show massive restraint over it. He knew at some point you'd be feeling something that wasn't there before but fought hard to prevent it altogether. He didn't need you to feel obligated to anything you weren't ready for.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, squeezing them together behind his back and pulling yourself closer into him. He now understood your meaning. You wanted to be closer to him, to feel his body on yours... but he still held down your hands. He lifted one from the bed, freeing it and allowing you access to his hair, which had already become horribly untamed with his escapades down your neck. You grabbed at the roots, pulling softly and hearing the result of it, which you'd been longing to hear all this time. It was caught by your lips and echoed on into your head, like a song that was stuck there on repeat for days on end.

Now with one of his hands free, he tucked it beneath your waist, lifting it up so your bodies were firmly against each other. the warmth, no, the heat spreading through places he feared it shouldn't be spreading.

He knew he needed to nip this in the bud before it went any further. Even if you said the words, he knew tonight was not the right time. You were supposed to be sleeping as it was, and the hours you'd be missing if you kept on would make you exhausted tomorrow. Obi-Wan was not willing to let your first time be rushed and was certainly not willing to let you be in such a state for your assignment that began tomorrow. More than anything else, he would want to stay with you the morning after, to hold you and assure you that he was there by your side and that he wasn't going anywhere. That could not be said about the day ahead.

He broke apart from you slowly, his last kiss lasting, and when it ended, he pulled your bottom lip with his teeth a little. He let it go, and pushed himself up a little, letting your body back down on the mattress. He looked over you again, seeing as how you looked more tired now, but still eager somehow. You were so willing to lay and kiss him all night long, to touch and feel him and let him take the same pleasure from you. You were everything.

"I think perhaps it's time to sleep, my love," he caressed your cheek with the back of his knuckles, smiling and pecking the top of your head before he laid back down beside you.

You instantly wrapped around him again, face buried in his chest, head resting underneath his. He would never get used to the feeling of holding you while you slept, not even since the first time he did it all those years ago. It gave him a sense of security, knowing you were safe within his arms, protected by his strong embrace.

He fell asleep much easier now, having staked his claim and shown you his love in the physical form it took.

@spencerrxids @sawendel @fandomstanner24 @i-shall-abide @officialjellydoughnut @whatshxrname @darkened-writer @superavengerpotter @cutiepoo16 @hypnoash @softlymellow @howlerwolfmax @mephistominion @honestlywtfisgoingon @anakinskywalkerog @mandiiellen @je--a-n @guyinachair27 @avenger5-a55emble @amelia-song-pond @kaminanii @the-abyss-of-fandoms @queenofnightdreamland @world-dominating-kitty @mandowhatnow @ella-error505 @annahalo @infinity-witch @beetlejuice-stuff @liueski @solarbxby @sirianisrock @lxdyred @endless-warrior-always-fighter @iloveinej @msjb2002 @shoochi @itsilvermorny @gingerrosecosplay @sebschicken @loversjoy @argentinemango @1-800-vader @house-of-kolchek @marierg @graciexmarvel @ttzamara @truly-madly-nerdy @molieux @majahu @dyzlks @pancakefancake

#obi wan x padawan #obi wan kenobi #obi wan series #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #ewan mcgregor #anakin skywalker x reader #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #obi wan kenobi x padawan!reader

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dippindaz · 2 years

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Could you do an nsfw fic with the grabber x male reader or ftm!reader perhaps? 👀 I’ll forever be in your debt.

A/N: Ok so I'm not the most confident in my abilities to write trans readers (character in general) so I'll be doing grabber x male, I also wanna say I've not done much male on male, I'll do my best but I apologize if it's not that good <3

The Grabber x male reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+ minors DNI, oral, anal penetration, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, overstimulation, he kinda just throws you around,

Unedited

It was safe to say your first encounter with the grabber was one like any other. You met, he tricked you, now your stuck down here in his basement forever. Well, it almost like any other. Instead of his usual just a clumsy nice guy but, he had taken a different approach with you.

He had bumped into in the grocery store, at first it was friendly small talk. You had gotten out of the store and on your walk home saw that same man struggling to load groceries into the back of his van, well of course you were going to help him. When you had gotten over the casual friendly small talk just seemed a little more flirtatious to you. Maybe you were crazy. Yeah, that had to be it. ..right?

It was incredibly boring down here. Plan walls, a dirty toilet, old carpets, and a random old phone attached to the wall. Of course, the phone didn’t work, you like many of his victims tried it. After the first day everything was just the same old same old.

Your brain couldn’t handle it. Every time you heard his voice it brought you back to just before he took you. His flirting, the warmth of his body so close to your’s. Thinking about it made you antsy.

You tried to ignore it. Your clothes felt like they were growing tight. You flipped and flopped on the mattress trying to get comfortable. You couldn’t. You began to feel hot, were you sweating? You ripped off your shirt, it felt like it was itching.

Stuck in your thoughts, in your own growing horniness uncomfortableness you hadn’t noticed the door creaking.

You were laying on your side, rubbing your feet together trying to ignore everything. No matter what you tried to think about your brain just made it’s way back to his voice, his build, and oh dear for SOME reason, his mask. There was something about not seeing his face.

You finally opened your eyes. You adjusted your position to be holding yourself up with your elbows. That was when you noticed light creeping into the room. Your wide eyes looked at the door and were met with his. He stood there silently, head tilted.

Your chest heaved, you just sat there watching him. Shame and embarrassment were all you felt now. Even if he didn’t know what you were thinking about, now being met face to face with the man on your fantasies; it felt more... wrong. Wrong in all the ways that made you want it more.

You were getting harder. You feel it, but you refused to look. He could see it too now, but still neither of you moved.

“Well. Isn’t this interesting?” He walked towards you.

You felt small. He towered above you. He could’ve said anything and you would’ve crumbled beneath him.

What he did say, didn’t make you crumble. It made you melt. “Want some help?”

You could hear his smirk. He was smug and you both knew the answer to his question before it was asked. You knew it wasn’t a question. Not because you wanted him, but because he wanted you.

You let out a shakey breath, nodding. Lowly, he chuckled. It was like it was in slow motion. He leaned down and pulled you into your knees by your throat.

You stabilized yourself by grabbing his thighs with your hands. “First, be a good boy. Then, I’ll let you cum.”

Nodding your head, you agreed to his term. Not that it mattered, you were already too far in to try and take it back. You slowly reached up, unbuttoning his pants. You let them drop and then pulled his boxers down. He was only half hard and was still bigger than you thought you could take.

You lightly licked the tip. Then licked again all the way down his shaft. He let out a low growl and grabbed your head. He forced himself into your mouth and slowly began to rock his hips back and forth.

There were tears in the corner of your eyes. You couldn’t have opened your mouth wider if you wanted too. You swirled your tongue around to the best of your ability and hallowed your cheeks. You could feel him touching the back of throat.

Your jaw grew tired, but you could tell he wasn’t near finished with you. His movements were quick but rhythmic and he hardly made a noise.

He slowed his hips and pulled out of your mouth. You slowly closed your mouth and moved your jaw around. When you looked back up at him, the bottom half of his mask was missing.

He picked up his feet and lightly pushed you backwards with his boot. You didn’t fight it, just let yourself slide off your elbows. Now you were laying on the mattress, your feet resting flat with your knees bent.

He pushed your knees apart and crawled over top of you. He’s hands were placed on either side of your head. He leaned down, brushing his lips against yours.

He pushed himself up and sat on his knees. “Take off your pants.” He ordered. You swiftly obeyed.

Once your pants and boxers were off, he grabbed your hips and forced you into your stomach.

You picked yourself up onto your knees. He chuckled from behind you. You felt the tip of his cock against your ass and he slowly pushed into you. You whimpered at the stretch. It stung and then burned, he was bigger than anyone else you had been with.

He groaned once he was fully inside you. He sat there for a moment, letting you collect yourself. He slowly rocked in and out of you, moving only a little. You groaned and trembled at the feeling.

He pulled almost completely and then pounded into you. You yelped at the fore. His pace picked up each time you moaned.

It wasn’t long until you were drooling. It trickled out of your mouth and soaked into the mattress below you. Your dick twitched and your back arched when he began to hit your prostate.

He knew what he was doing, he continued to hit that same spot over and over. You twitched again and couldn’t help it when you came.

He wasn’t done yet. You finishing only made him move faster. You cried at the overstimulation. It wasn’t enough for him. He leaned against you and reached his hand around your body. He began stroking you.

You screamed out before biting your hand. More tears flowed from your eyes and he only laughed at your reaction.

It hurt and felt good at the same time. It didn’t take long for you to get hard again and for the next orgasm to build. You bit your hand harder and his thrusts got a little faster.

He groaned and you felt his load inside you. That feeling alone was enough to push you to cum for the second time. He kept stroking you and thrusting into for a few seconds, then slowed.

He pulled out of you. You collapsed into the mattress now that he wasn’t there to hold you up. He calmly laid down beside you, but he chest moving with his breathes betrayed his calm demeanor.

After a moment he turned his head to you and smirked. He pushed himself off the mattress and began getting dressed. “I’ll be back later. You rolled onto your back and quietly watched him, not having enough energy to say anything.

He turned to you before closing the basement door. “Don’t miss me too much.” His tone was teasing.

Now he had no doubt of his effect on you. Now you couldn’t hide it. He shut the door behind himself and you both knew, this wasn’t the last time this would happen.

#the black phone #horror #horror x you #the grabber #slashers x reader #slashers x you #the black phone x reader #the black phone x you #the grabber x reader #the grabber x you #slashers x male reader #the grabber x male reader #the black phone x male reader #horror x male reader

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bg-brainrot · 3 months

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This last chapter with reincarnation!Tav took a bit longer than it usually takes me and I think it's because of this scene in particular. As someone who projects some (a lot) onto Astarion, I knew I would need to address his grief over past!Tav in a way that felt real to me*, while still being distinctly him. I got there eventually, and now I'm pleased to be a bit proud of the scene c':

*Disclaimer: everyone processes grief differently, everyone wants different things in their healing process.

“Ever so helpful, aren’t you?” he snaps. Then, realizing what he’s said, wipes a hand over his face and looks up at you. His eyes are conflicted. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I suppose I just didn’t realize that my company was that disagreeable. It’s a rather uncomfortable thing to come to terms with.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, closing the door behind you and stepping in now. You set down your spoils and turn toward Astarion. His entire demeanor, his body, looks to be on edge, like something has been chipping away at him.

Astarion closes the book in his lap, and you note that the cover is upside down. “It’s just this damned tavern. I know I can’t eat, but I guess I got used to sharing meals with, erm, you. Them.” He drops his head and mumbles, almost too quiet to hear, “I don’t even know anymore.”

He’d mentioned before how difficult it had been for him, trying to reconcile who you are, who you were, but he’d recused himself every time it got to be too much. Here, sharing a room in the Elfsong, neither of you could run away from the roiling storm of his emotions.

Faced with his hanging head and the hunch of his shoulders, you haven’t a clue how to approach the man you can only call a friend. You almost wish this was a memory, if only for your emotions to come through clearly, your next course of action to be predetermined. But, of course, you are the only one capable of dealing with the consequences of your own actions.

You approach him slowly, cautiously, and call out his name. “Astarion?”

The man lifts his head up to you, and you find torment twisting his fair features. His breathing seems shallow and rushed. The lines around his mouth deepen as he reads your expression and he only replies, “Please don’t.”

“Don’t?” you ask, stopping just short of his bed.

“Don’t look at me like that– With that infernal pity. I’m fine.”

He doesn’t look fine, and you don’t feel pity. It’s hard to parse out your emotions, but you mostly feel bad. The idea that he’d been suffering alone, that he had harbored this turmoil, all without letting you in… it hurts. Whether or not he loves you, he said he cared about you. He claims to be your friend and friends don’t shut each other out like this.

“I know you don’t want to get more attached to me,” you say, taking another step. “But I promise I am only doing this as a friend.”

You don’t give him time to react, to protest your presence, before your arms reach down and envelop his form. It’s an awkward angle, with his body hunched, curled on his bed, yours draping over him like an unwelcome cloak– he stiffens under you at first.

Then his tension melts.

His hands come up, grasping at your elbows and holding you in place. His soft, silver hair tickles your neck as his head leans into your chest. His whole body angles toward yours, as if seeking your warmth desperately.

You cling back, tilting your head into his. Your hands grip his sides tightly. Your presence is firm, your warmth his to take.

You hold him like that for a time, neither of you wanting to pull away from the simple, beautiful feeling of holding one another. Initially, you’d held him for his sake, but you find that the longer you stand there, the more your own soul settles. If a soul could crave, this is what mine would yearn for.

If you want to read the full chapter, chapter 18 is here!

#WHaBFHtLA #astarion x tav #astarion #fanfic #reincarnation tav #side note omg these chapters are so long #how do you all put up with me #i hope u all enjoy #it's a busy work day today so i probably wont be able to read through comments until much later but i cant wait 😭😭

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ao3gobi17 · 3 months

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I was really bored so I wrote half of prison meeting from Quaritch's perspective and I was hoping you would rate it? English is not my first language and this is actually the second time I am trying to write something in it so it may be very bad heh. However, if it's not such a tragedy, I would try to write another part because I was a bit drawn into it but to do that i need an opinion 😅

Quaritch sat at the table, trying his best to keep his face impassive, acutely aware of the cold handcuffs and the eyes watching him from behind the one-way mirror. It was finally happening, just a moment and he would see his son. He wondered what Miles would turn out to be. Is he still as happy, energetic and clingy as he used to be? "Definitely not towards me, he thinks I killed his mother," he thought bitterly. Every day he was filled with a greater desire for revenge for the killing of his beloved, for the destruction of his family. He took a deep breath. Just a moment, a few days, and no one would take his boy, his last light in life away from him. At that moment, the door opened. Quaritch's heart leapt. Finally, after so many years, this dream moment came, and he couldn't even afford to show any deeper emotions.

“It's been a while, son.” He began, trying to keep his tone as calm and collected as possible. Miles lifted his head and looked at him. Quaritch felt a violent wave of love wash over him as he looked into those doe, brown eyes, identical to Paz's. However, he knew that he had to focus on practical things, collect as much information as possible, such as the size of his clothes or potential characteristic features of his appearance that would need to be covered so that no one would thwart the plan. He tore his gaze away from those oh-so-terrified eyes and quickly glanced at the child's figure, mentally noting the potential size and noticing that his son was quite tall and too thin for his liking, and catching the strange-looking dreadlocked hair out of the corner of his eye, immediately feeling angry at those who allowed this to happen. ruining his son's beautiful golden curls. "Calm down baby boy, everything will be fine soon, I will take care of you, I promise," he said in his thoughts to keep himself calm.

“You gonna sit down?” he suggested, his heart clenched a little when he saw how scared Miles Jr. was, his legs were shaking slightly, although he obviously tried to hide it but he still took the designated place. " Atta boy" Quaritch began, trying to put on the most reassuring smile possible. He tried to make conversation, hoping that Miles would drop his stiff façade and finally speak. "How did you get so big? “The passage of time,” his son replied while giving him a slightly disdainful look. His voice had changed so much... He still remembered the high pitched tone of his little boy. Miles was almost a man now, and he was really starting to sound like one. Quaritch internally felt as if someone had kicked him hard in the stomach. He had missed so many important moments in his son's life, the change and reluctance in his voice made him realize it even more. Feeling his anger boiling inside, he cast a murderous look at the mirror, knowing that there was probably a horde of policemen on the other side.

“Yeah.. That's nine years I can't get back.” He drawled. For a moment he was dreaming about how he could take revenge on all those who sentenced him to separation from his child when he heard a quiet "They said if I came, you'd give up the Wedgewick Killer," behind him. He came to his senses in a second, feeling an unpleasant tightening in his stomach. Of course he knew the kid hadn't come here willingly, but the confirmation stung even more.

Ahh that was so exciting to read! You definitely hit a ton of the correct beats in terms of how Q is feeling and where his mindset was at. I LOVE the line 'violent wave of love rush over him' that's just so Q and I wish I'd come up with that! I also think the description of Spider having doe eyes in that first moment when he's so scared is super fitting for what Q would have observed.

(I assume when you asked me to rate it you didn't mean you wanted specific feedback like in an editor way, but if you did let me know!)

Thank you so much for sending this, it's made my day! <3

#gobibside #custody

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myimaginarywonderland · 10 months

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People saying this is just as bad as Daniel or Alex or Pierre truly do not understand how much worse this is.

Since his F2 days Nyck knew he was never going to be able to get into F1 because it was just to expensive. Even when he was under Mercedes wing it was impossible. He got into FE and while we can all debate his title he at least found a place in a championship where he could fight for podiums/points, hell even wins. Sure Stoffel proved himself the better driver and Nyck has always been semi in FE but he was in a championship were he felt good. Then, Mercedes decide to leave eventhough they basically just came in and Nyck once again is left with knowing he has nowhere to go. And while there were offers he truly believed so much in F1 that he never pursued any and to his luck and Alex being sick he finally got the impossible dream.

He got a chance.

And then he gets critized from day 1 for his aggressive driving which was clear in the last years if you just bothered to look him up, he gets critized for not being closer to Yuki after being in a compleltly different series to F1.

I don't think people understand how different FE used to be and still is. It took André Lotterer who won multiple Le Mans victories a full season to get even used to driving with that different style. And people expect Nyck who spent years getting used to and finally adapting to it to just immediately fit into the F1 driving style?

Not to mention in such a bad car that you have the team leader (in drivers terms) openly criticising it multiple times with the team principal agreeing that they need to change the car which is the worst in the entire grid so it would take even longer to get used to it?

This is nothing like Daniel. He had many years before his ultimate McLaren downfall.

This is also nothing like Pierre or Alex who got swapped mid season because of performance issues because they both still had a drive on the grid, they both still had a chance to improve or show themselves. Sure they were beaten but they both had great races before that.

This is a driver that completely wrote F1 off a long time ago being given the impossible chance to drive and of course jumping. This is a driver being kicked mid-season is such a PR disasters move that will automatically make any other team turn away from him because they will question why he was dropped. This is a driver being kicked mid season without any chance to get a seat somewhere else or even look. Pierre and Alex could at least prepare themselves while Nyck was just this week talking about how excited he is for the next race.

This is a potential career ending move while the others just had blows and in most cases it was a turning point to something even greater. Not that I agree with any decisions prior but it almost opened a door where as for Nyck all door are closed, locked and sealed shut.

I don't think you realise how damaging this is for not only his career but also his mental health and that this compares to nothing, nothing we have seen before.

#f1 #nyck de vries

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jackson--t · 2 years

Text

His Boy

Ronnie Kray x Teddy Smith.

Warnings: Spanking and other sexual stuff. Explicit Smut.

Teddy tries to mend Ronnie's broken nose, and ends up right where he always does: on Ronnie's lap.

Words: 3.4 k

I feel like a weirdo posting this. 😅🙆‍♂️

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It wasn't the first time Teddy had seen all that blood, the bent nose, the drips on the carpet that Ronnie actually liked a lot. The fine dots and drops of blood had fallen into the beautiful pattern of the carpet, breaking up the steady, gentle repetition of finely curved illustrades. A drop had fallen on a certain finely curved curl that Teddy had stared at many times, whenever he had lain on Ronnie's lap, his ass in the air, enduring the beatings, his buttocks glowing red from the welts of the hand with the cool, hard rings on it. Or the cane from the fine vase in the hallway, a bamboo cane whose welts Teddy could usually feel under the fabric of his pants for days afterwards.

He exhaled softly as Ronnie's glowing gaze met him. His fingers curled up slightly in the kitchen towel he'd grabbed when he'd heard the door. An argument with his twin brother, Reggie. It hadn't been uncommon lately for them to fight because Reggie didn't get along with Frances - or because Ronnie did something that didn't suit him.

But when Teddy saw Ronnie's probably broken nose, he sighed softly. He liked Reggie, he really did. Reggie, of course, was the prettier one of the twins - amiable, always finely dressed, and didn't carry the traces of seething aggression and craziness under his skin like his brother Ronnie. Teddy had liked Reggie a lot at first, watching him furtively whenever Ronnie's eyes were glued to anything but his face. Sometimes, he had wanted to scratch up Frances' face, to rip her beautiful hair off her head, just like that - because he envied her. Because Reggie didn't beat her, and because she had Reggie's beautiful face all over her when he fucked her.

Still, he didn't like it when Reggie hurt Ronnie. The missing pills were to blame, his antipsychotics. Ronnie almost never took them, unless Teddy reminded him to. Well - Teddy was used to knowing Ronnie as he was, always had been. To him, it made no difference, per se, whether Ronnie took them or not. But the subtle aggressive structures of his mental disorder became more palpable, like a guest moving into Ronnie's head, whispering strange things to him. He was more aggressive, loving violence. Only today, his eyes were different. Teddy saw the anger, the astonishment, the shock - and something he could almost put under the term sadness.

If that feeling existed in Ronnie.

Teddy fumbled a little with the kitchen towel, folding it between his fine fingers before asking quietly, "What happened?"

"He hit me, Reggie. Look at what he did - 's it bad, Teddy?" Ronnie grunted, walking with heavy steps over to the mirror in the living room. His mom, Valerie, was thankfully asleep. She wouldn't have believed it had been Reggie. But Teddy knew the other brother's punch. He had already had to feel it himself, under the powerful urge of the incoming excitement of that gesture. It was always a highlight for him when Reggie touched him - even if it was to teach him a lesson. The last time for a lesson had been when he'd hit Leslie so hard, out of sheer jealousy over Ronnie's attention, that Leslie had almost lost an eye.

"Ah, fuck - ma nose, ma beautiful nose. What a ...- my fuckin' brother!" Ronnie cursed loudly, and Teddy carefully stood next to him, gently standing on tiptoe to get a closer look at Ronnie's face.

"It's broken, Ronnie. I can fix it if you want," Teddy murmured softly, the glowering gaze of Ronnie's eyes on him. The big man snorted softly, a few drops of blood spreading further across the beautiful carpet.

"You can do that? Nah, I don't-"

"Fixed my own nose once, I did. Gonna hurt though, ya hear?" Teddy said, taking the fingers of his right hand out of the cloth, resting them lightly and warmly against Ronnie's cheek. He felt the twitch under Ronnie's skin, it was so warm. It set off an excited tingle in Teddy's stomach area.

"Did ya? Hmph, you know what I'm going to do if you fuckin' mess it up?"

"I know, and I'm not going to screw it up."

"I could kill you pretty right here and now for that, huh? Think the nose's ugly, don't ya?" Ronnie grunted angrily, and there it was, the absence of psychotropic drugs. Words Ronnie said without understanding the meaning - blindly directed because he didn't realize, not quite, that his brother had done this to him, and not Teddy. Thick, strong fingers dug around Teddy's chin, jerked it up, and Teddy gulped.

"I could-"

"Who's going to fix your nose then, huh? Can punish me for it afterwards, but your nose will stay like that," Teddy breathed out tensely, knowing the effect his words were having on Ronnie. The man's eyes narrowed slightly, then he nodded, his lower lip slightly open, his row of teeth bared below. He sniffled deeply, his nose clogged with blood, before dropping onto the couch.

"You're being careful, aren't you?" he grunted, and Teddy smiled.

"I always am."

"Don't tell anyone, you hear?"

"I never do, Ronnie."

"Hmm, good boy."

Teddy clicked his tongue, wiped his fingers on the kitchen towel, and went into the kitchen to get some bandages. He knew well by now where everything lay - Valerie had introduced him to the Krays' house, after all, well aware and grateful that Teddy was still by Ronnie's side. Sometimes he thought he read from her eyes that she really liked him - because he had never judged Ronnie, despite his bouts of cruelty. But Teddy knew nothing else. He had grown up just as much in the pain of a poor neighborhood, and Ronnie was his ticket to a better life.

You put up with these things if you could live for them like a prince. You just put up with them, and shut up when Ronnie wanted you to.

When Teddy had gathered his things, he put them down next to Ronnie on the couch, and sat down wide-legged on the broad lap. He had always loved Ronnie's thighs, those wide trunks, strong enough to break a body. There was ecstasy in every fiber of those muscles.

That's why Teddy suppressed the surge of pleasure that sloshed through his body as he pressed closer to Ronnie's face, slender fingers against his cheek. The nose looked really nasty, and it was really broken. It would be a slight jolt, but how Ronnie would react to the pain, well - Teddy didn't know.

"S' gonna hurt, Ronnie, okay? I'll make one quick move, it'll hurt, and then you'll be pretty again," Teddy whispered hoarsely, and Ronnie grunted.

"Am I not pretty now? I know you're always staring at Reggie-"

"I don't, and you are pretty, Ronnie, always. Reggie's too soft."

A narrow grin crossed Ronnie's bloodied face, like a twitch, short and beautiful. "He is."

"You ready?" Teddy asked, and Ronnie's nod wasn't even quite finished before he applied the pressure of his fingers to his nose and had them moving quickly to the side, pushing the nose back into place with a horrible cracking sound.

"FUCK!"

Of course he screamed, and of course Ronnie threw Teddy off his lap, the slight new stream of blood like shock on his face. Teddy licked his lips. Heat, so much heat in his body, in his loins.

Bad boy, he could hear it now, feel it like a tingling promise on his skin.

"What did ya fuckin' do?!"

"The nose is straight again, Ronnie, I made it whole again! You still need tape, let me tape it-"

Ronnie snorted. The drops of blood plopped onto the carpet, a few more, then it stopped, though Ronnie's voice still sounded impossibly nasal. He paced up and down, eyes on the floor, and then - heavy, heaving footsteps in the hallway, the sound of fine leaves, and Teddy's skin tingled with pleasure. The bamboo stick.

Ronnie sat down wordlessly on the couch, his broad legs like mighty tree trunks, and slapped his right thigh with the flat of his hand. "Com'ere." he commanded, without a kind word, without the litter Teddy usually knew when they were alone. Eyes gleaming menacingly behind the lenses of his glasses, Teddy pushed himself off the ground. There were a few drops of blood around the edges of Ronnie's glasses, but Teddy paid them no further attention as he lay belly-first on Ronnie's thigh, his lap full of tingling sensations.

Teddy liked violence. He liked brutality, didn't know why - but he had always been one of those boys who had never been too gentle - just right for Ronnie Kray, and one of the reasons Teddy was his best boy. Because he could endure, because he didn't break under what Ronnie needed, what turned Ronnie on, what excited Ronnie. Teddy was never broken. He wore the bruises on his body like trophies, wore them like something to be proud of - because it was the signature of Ronnie Kray. The secret king of London. And Teddy was his boy.

"Pants down." Ronnie grunted darkly, and Teddy obeyed. The air of the living room was cool around the skin of his bottom, a pleasant change from what was to come. Ronnie let out a soft, dark sound as Teddy lay back on his legs, lower body naked, and a rough, coarse hand gripped his left buttock firmly, slapping it lightly.

"You'll pay for this, you will."

Teddy breathed out. "Yeah."

The moments before the first blow were always the most erotic Teddy ever felt. Like a burning in the air, like a tingle in his lap, in his cock, like waiting for a fucking surprise. The air was electrified, magical, the warmth of Ronnie's thighs beneath him like the softest cloud.

The first stroke was hard, so hard it elicited a hoarse sound from Teddy. It was more of a squeak, high and soft, that he knew turned Ronnie sheer on - he loved it when he could do this. And Teddy loved the feel of the hard bamboo stick on his bare skin, the tingle it left. The red welts, the warmth on his butt cheeks as it formed. The red marks, sometimes a little chapped skin that he knew Ronnie loved to lick, to run his hands over curiously before fucking him. And this, Teddy thought to himself in sheer excitement at the next stroke - was guaranteed to end in a hard fuck.

He knew Ronnie could feel his erection against his thighs. With each breath, with each stroke more on his ass, Teddy's cock stiffened, pressing against the warm, rough fabric of Ronnie's thighs in the expensive pants, letting a soft friction build as soon as his body arched minimally under the blow of the bamboo cane.

"I like your shirt." Ronnie grunted, absurdly, it didn't fit - but it was Ronnie, and the cane, and Teddy moaned softly the next time the cane slapped hard against his skin, leaving pain and burn and pleasure in its wake. Ronnie's own poem burned into his skin.

"Ronnie-" Teddy's voice grew softer, higher, a pleading whimper. His hard cock pressed against Ronnie's thigh, was literally massaged, licked at drops. But the heat of the strokes didn't abate, only a little more hardness was added - by the movements and by Ronnie's lap, oh yeah, a firm erection pressed there into the fine fabric of his pants.

Teddy loved Ronnie's cock. It was as broad and big and fucking hot as anything on him - well built, and made to destroy him if he wanted to. Teddy had often had to take warm baths after sex with Ronnie to preserve his body - he could take a lot, always, but he needed his time afterward.

With a quiet moan, Teddy felt Ronnie's free hand settle on one buttock, gripping tightly, almost grabbing. Broad fingers fumbled at his crack, seeking, finding. They were already wet, Teddy hadn't realized, when they found what they were looking for, digging deep into Teddy's body, two of Ronnie's fucking wide fingers. The pulling and stretching was passion, coupled with another stroke and an undeniable exhale from Ronnie that almost bordered on a greedy moan.

Fuck, it didn't take much longer.

Teddy had to endure two more hard blows where, despite the rising numbness in the flesh, he could feel it tearing the skin slightly - it burned so nicely - then, with a gasping exhale, Ronnie pushed him belly-first onto the sofa, tossing the bamboo cane carelessly away. His heavy hands pressed Teddy's shoulder blades hard down on the sofa, pressing the boy firmly into the finely flowered fabric of Valerie's couch, and Teddy heard Ronnie undo his belt with rising excitement.

Once, just once, Teddy had been allowed to see him completely naked, otherwise Ronnie always left his clothes partially on. And it had been a groundbreaking time, because Ronnie, despite his oddness, was so damn well trained, had broader shoulders than his brother, a brutally toned chest. Teddy had been allowed to ride him that day, with hands as tight as vices around his hips. But Teddy had come, way too fast, drenching Ronnie's chest in a lean white of cum.

"Fuckin' bastard," Ronnie grunted, spitting roughly between Teddy's crack, pressing the hard and erect tip of his broad and thick cock between them, pushing himself between Teddy's butt cheeks without further foreplay, pushing his cock into the tight hole. The fingers on his butt glowed, rubbing over the sore skin, but the stretching and pain from the intrusion made Teddy forget all about it.

He moaned as loudly as he dared before a broad hand snaked in front of his mouth and squeezed hard - the absence of air made Teddy dizzy, aroused by the brutality. Ronnie's weight pressed him down hard, and it was nice to be squeezed so nicely between that body and his weight, and to have his own cock wedged so tightly on Mommy Kray's soft couch.

"Don't wake Mom, you lil' whore!" Ronnie growled hotly against his ear, and Teddy shook his head, breathing, gasping for air as his fingers released from his mouth and Ronnie truly fucked him hard into the couch.

It was ecstasy, every time. The pain was so pleasurable that it was quickly replaced by the probing sensation of an approaching orgasm, forming deep in Teddy's belly. The friction of his cock against the couch and with Ronnie's thick cock sliding so deep inside him, soon better, it was like a pure piece of pleasure written by the god of lust himself. Teddy could do nothing but cling to the fabric of the couch with clammy fingers, controlling his breathing, and taking and taking that cock as hard and as well as he could.

Ronnie was never a tender lover, but he was a good one, more animal than man in bed, with rough moans and grunts, hips snapping hard like a stud bull. Teddy nearly choked on his own saliva as Ronnie thrusted deeper, deeper, hitting the fine bundles of nerves inside him again and again. The tip of his cock rubbed firmly against it, Teddy knew that Ronnie knew. He timed the motions just right to hit that spot again and again, feeling the softness in Teddy's limbs, the trembling in his shoulder blades.

"You're gonna come for me, Teddy.", Ronnie groaned out, the hard cock with a firm jerk so damn deep, made Teddy's spine rebel slightly. Teddy opened his mouth, but no words came out. No moan, he just gasped, knowing he was close.

A thought that had driven him to climax many times before pressed into his brain with manic swiftness: this one thought, this forbidden one, that he would one day want to act out. Reggie and Ronnie, both above him, behind him, inside him. The pushing and shoving of two thick cocks inside him, his hole stretched to bursting. The twins sharing Teddy like a cheap hooker, the way they embraced his body, held him, fucked him and fucked him until Teddy came. Feeling not only Ronnie's fat cock, but Reggie's as well, both brothers joined inside him...-

His orgasm bored into Teddy's body so violently that he didn't have time to really dig his fingers into the sofa. His body stiffened for only a few seconds, then he reared back, and it spurted out of his cock, discharging into the muscles of his ass, contracting and milking Ronnie Kray, quivering, trembling, in full ecstasy. Teddy even blacked out for a moment because Ronnie just kept fucking him, calling him a bitch, grabbing his neck and squeezing him tighter into the fabric. But Teddy came and fucking came, it was so good, it was so-

"Fuck, fuckin'-", it was rare for Ronnie to moan - usually he came silently - but today he came loudly, as if he wanted Teddy's orgasm to last. Teddy could feel the hot spurts inside him, wanted to catch them with the tip of his tongue, choke on them, even as he loved the wetness building in his hole, more with each slide. Especially because Ronnie kept thrusting, really riding out the orgasm, fucking Teddy for several moments after he had cum.

It took Teddy a long time to get his breath back. Until he felt details, like the burning of his skin, like the heat on his back - Ronnie's nose must have been dripping, triggered slight aftershocks in Teddy's body. He couldn't move, even though Ronnie had long since braced himself and closed his pants again, giving Teddy a less soft shove in the ribs.

Teddy stayed down, just today, just briefly, as Ronnie brought the bamboo cane back into the hallway, stuck it in the beautiful vase as if it hadn't just been the tool of a satisfaction. He stroked his clothes, wrinkled his nose with a soft, pained sound, and then nudged Teddy lightly.

"We're going to bed, now, Teddy. Will you clean up?"

Teddy smiled. His body ached, throbbed, but he was fine. "Sure."

Teddy always cleaned up, tidied up when the evenings and nights ended like this. He fixed Ronnie's nose briefly, patted it so it wouldn't hang crooked in his face again in the morning. Then he put everything away, wiping what blood he could off the carpet still. But the dark stains remained. He would have to scrub along with Valerie tomorrow, while Ronnie would surely be sitting next to them, on the big armchair, eating a piece of warm carrot cake. The broad hand always slightly hollowed under his mouth, so that no crumbs would fall on his lap, neat, almost pedantic, as he sometimes was.

Before Teddy went upstairs, he took the brownish tin of pills with him, and with a quiet exhale, placed it on Ronnie's side of the bed. They always slept in the children's room when they were here - Valerie had never changed it because her sons had always been her everything.

"Will you take them, for me, Ronnie?" Teddy asked softly as he pulled his light blue shirt off his body, and with a pleasurable soft sound, lay down in bed next to Ronnie. He then gently placed the pillbox on Ronnie's chest, his eyes upturned to the scowling man. Ronnie's mouth twisted.

"Nah-"

"Please." Teddy pleaded, and indeed, Ronnie formed a large, cupped hand, dropped two pills into it, and swallowed them. Sometimes, when they'd been acting out, he was actually quite pleasant. Like they were in a real relationship, like it wasn't an honor that Teddy got to be here in bed - but something perfectly normal.

Normality.

Sometimes, but only sometimes, Teddy longed for it. For what Reggie and Frances had, for holding hands, for sex in the shower, for rides on Ronnie's lap because it felt so normal and good. Because for once, Teddy was in control.

But actually, it was also good the way it was. He at Ronnie's side - and with the two pills in him that always made him sleepy - Ronnie even pulled Teddy into a hug, letting him sleep with his head on his shoulder.

Almost comforting, like a boy who just wanted some soothing love after his fight and broken nose. Even if it was still Ron Kray.

But Teddy was his boy, and that was all that mattered.

He would endure.

#legend #ronnie kray #mad teddy #teddy smith #ronnie kray x teddy smith #ron kray #taron egerton #tom hardy

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ifidiedinadream · 1 year

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Hi 🥰

Could I maybe request something were the reader is a little insecure to get naked in front of her partner (Olli), because she has some old SH scars on her hips and thighs.

And one day they get caught in the rain after a date and she has to change in front of him or Olli walks in on her. The reader would try to hide them, afraid Olli would be judge her. But Olli just comforts her about it, telling her how beautiful and strong she is.

hello anon!! of course you could 🖤

tw: old self harm scars

The date was almost perfect.

Olli took you to a coffee shop, something simple but it’s not like you need grand things to enjoy each other’s company anyway. The relationship is in its infancy and there’s still a lot to discover about each other, so spending your time together mostly talking and enjoying each other’s presence is more than enough for both of you.

The date was only almost perfect because, whereas the first part of it made you feel like you were on cloud nine (Olli’s profound blue eyes boring into yours for long moments, your hand in his, sharing your coffee shop orders), the second part had you soaking wet and not in the fun sense of the term (which was still uncharted territory because you want to take things slow (and for another couple of reasons) but that’s beside the point).

A sudden downpour caught you and Olli by surprise while you were walking back and no amount of running could spare you from all the water falling from the sky. On the spot, you decided to head to Olli’s apartment (the original plan was for him to walk with you to your house - he didn’t want you to go alone, since it was getting dark and he wanted to make sure you’d be safe) and you even managed to laugh together a bit, especially when he struggled to keep up with your pace and had to leave your hand in the process.

“Let’s stay inside until the rain stops,” Olli says as he disappears in one of the rooms. “I’ll drive you back home later.”

“Thank you,” you say when Olli comes back with one of his hoodies and hands it over to you. You almost forget about feeling in awe for being at Olli's apartment for the first time ever at the kind gesture.

“You can change in my bedroom,” he says. “I’ll make us something warm in the meantime.”

Olli kisses your lips before showing you the door to the bedroom (it’s the same room he took the hoodie from). He closes the door behind you to head to the kitchen.

You smell the hoodie before you undress yourself. It smells so distinctly like him, like honey and something else, like the rest of the house after all. You glance around: this is where Olli sleeps, and you can’t wait to share that bed with him one day. Waking up cuddled up to him in the morning, him still asleep with a ray of sunshine illuminating his golden curls after a night of slow, romantic sex; this and god knows how many other dreamy scenarios await you once you decide to take that big step. You sigh. It feels so close yet so out of reach…

As you take your soggy clothes off, your reflection in the large mirror on the wall catches your attention. And obviously, so do the old scars on your hips and thighs.

You cross your arms on your chest. Olli will have to know about them one day and the thought terrifies you: will he understand? Will he think less of you? Will he still want to be with you?

You thought about it before, imagined every possible scenario: you could tell him, or he could find out himself; he could make a fuss about it, or not care, or he could pretend he didn’t notice them, never acknowledging them. He could think you’re immature, attention seeking, or out of your mind; he could act surprised or like he knew all along.

Would he be too disgusted to even touch you there?

You don’t know how long you’ve been staring at yourself in nothing but your underwear, deep in thought and making yourself anxious in the process; but at some point the door flings open, and you startle and drop the hoodie on the floor.

“Ah, shit, sorry!” Olli says and you swear he’d cover his eyes if he wasn’t carrying two fuming cups in his hands. He turns his face to the side, red in the cheeks. “You didn’t answer the knocks on the door and I thought you’d be finished by now…”

You don’t know what to say, only try to cover your scars with your hands. You don’t know how to tell him it’s not that you don’t want him to see you naked, but…

“I - I made us tea,” Olli tries to keep his head turned as he hands you one of the cups. You’re petrified and not really eager to remove your hand from your hip to accept the tea.

Your hesitancy and silence make him turn to look at your face. His brow is furrowed and his gaze betrays confusion. “Are you okay?” he asks softly. Your hands flat on your hips and thighs only draw his attention there. “Wait - what’s…?”

You almost burst into tears on the spot, not at all ready to have this conversation now. Olli notices your mood drop, sets the cups on the nightstand and hastily walks over to you.

“Hey,” he says softly. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

But you just fall right into his arms and start sobbing.

Olli caresses your hair soothingly. “This is not about me walking in on you, is it?”

You shake your head against his chest.

“Do you want me to leave?”

You hesitate, then shake your head again. He holds you tighter.

“What are those… marks on your body?” he asks slowly, cautiously, when you’re calmer.

You take a deep breath and distance yourself from him.

“They’re what you think they are. I’m sorry I kept it from you but -” you can’t finish your sentence for you start tearing up again.

“Hey,” he says again, cupping your cheek. “It’s okay, I understand why you did. I’m not mad, okay?”

“It must look… so fucking vile to you,” you say, unable to look into his eyes.

“What?! No, not vile at all. I just think you’re so strong. And it doesn’t make you any less beautiful.”

With a gentle finger, he lifts your face so that you’re forced to look at him. He has a kind smile on his face, tender and genuine. You smile back, hesitantly, allowing yourself to believe him even if it’s difficult.

“You don’t have to be ashamed. Not with me,” Olli tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You nod, the quiet sound of his voice soothing you.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks and you let him, and in that kiss there’s all the reassurance you need.

#my writing #blind channel rpf #blind channel imagines #blind channel fanfic #blind channel fanfiction #rpf #olli matela x reader

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i-used-to-wear-the-fedora · 2 years

Text

Stranger Things Egg Baby AU, Walking on Eggshells

Eddie Munson did not like health class. He was barely passing with a solid C- untill the last test placed him just a few points above failing. With the semester coming to and end in two months, that meant he *needed* to pass the next project if he wanted a chance at not having to take his senior year a third time.

Fiddling with his mechanical pencil, Eddie was only half paying attention to the slide show Mr. Hopper had on the projector. They had finished the general sex ed last week and had now moved onto the consequences of what could happen if they didn't use proper protection. Something, something shaken baby syndrome, he didn't really care. Scribbling doodles into his notebook when the man brought out the carton of eggs. Setting them down on the table in front of the classroom and clapping his hands.

"Alright, I hope you're ready for busy week because starting today, we're doing the egg project!"

The entire class groaned and Eddie almost broke his pencil as he choked on air. Fuck, of course this would be the one project he needed to get A on. Mr. Hooper grabbed a sharpie off his desk and scribbled a face on the egg before holding it up to show the class.

"From now until the start of next Monday, you and a randomly assigned partner will be tasked with keeping this egg in tact. You shall treat it as your own child and as such will have to protect it with your life if you want anything other than an F." The man dropped the egg and it splattered all over the linoleum tile. "This is a lesson in responsibility. It will teach you how delicate a small life can be. As all good parents should, you will reach be expected to spend an equal amount of time with your egg baby. I have a login sheet that you'll both need to sign off, signalling you were there and took turns bonding. Alone and together." The man shook his now yolk covered hand off on his pant leg. "And don't try the boiled egg trick. I've seen it multiple times and no, you will not pass if you cook your child alive."

Eddie snorted. Now that was an image he didn't expect from health class.

"Alright, and no picking or trading partners. You may think you have a choice in this kind of thing when you become parents but trust me, you won't." The man picked up his clipboard with the class names and began calling out. Pairings of random students going up and claiming their egg child until there was only one left. "...Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington." The metalhead raised an eyebrow, looking around the classroom to see Steve "The Hair" Harrington sat on the opposite side of the room. He was just as confused as Eddie as they both went up to Mr. Hooper who handed them the last egg. All of the other pairings in class had been between boys and girls. "We had an odd ratio of boys to girls this year so for the sake of your grade, please don't make a big deal about this."

"Ha, gay!" One of the other boys called out.

"Alright Mr. Cohen, I see you decided to clean up this mess. Grab the mop and get started."

"Aw man." The boy stalked away when Mr. Hooper turned to the two boys.

"Anyways, congratulations. It's a boy." He handed the egg to Steve and the papers to Eddie. "Give it a name and start your parental bonding." The school bell rang signalling class was out. Everyone else began to leave and Eddie was left eyeing the king of Hawkins Highschool wearily. Of course this was who he'd get stuck with. The metalhead was already coming to terms with the fact he'd have to take this class a third time.

"Alright so how are we going to do this?"

"Do this? It's just an egg. How hard could it be?" It was lunchtime when Steve met Eddie by his locker. The egg nestled in his hands had a smiley face drawn on the front and a large M on the back.

"Hey, I need to make sure this egg stays safe or I'm going to fail health class again." Eddie frowned as dug through his locker, looking for his trigonometry book.

"Don't get your panties in a twist Munson, I want to pass just as much as you but I actually have a life non egg related. I have basketball tonight."

"Just because I'm not some stupid jock, doesn't mean I don't have anything going on in my life. I'm hosting the Hellfire club tonight." Eddie finally found the book, slamming the locker door shut with a sigh.

"...I'm not stupid." Eddie rolled his eyes. Of course that was the only thing Steve keened out of that sentence.

"I'm not taking any chances at failing. I'll take him today and you can take him tomorrow."

"Okay but what are we gonna name it?" Steve asked looking at the worksheet Mr. Hooper gave them.

"His name is Eggy Pop."

"Excuse me? We are not naming it that."

"Oh yeah and what would you name him? Steve Jr. ?"

"....no."

"Oh my God, you were going to name him Steve Jr."

"Listen, we'll decide on it later." Steve brushed off the metalhead's laughter, handing the egg to Eddie as he took the homework packet from Eddie's hands and turning to the next page. "What's your favorite color?"

The metalhead shot him a confused look

"What?" Eddie snorted. "I'm flattered Harrington but you're not my type. You really that desperate after Nancy Wheeler?"

"Ugh, you wish Munson." He waved the paper on his hands. "We need to take a comparability test together."

"Ew." Eddie ripped the page out. "I have band practice in the auditorium but I'll give this to you later." He shoved the paper into his backpack before carefully setting their egg baby in the breast pocket of his denim vest.

"Don't break our baby!" Steve called after him.

"Don't plan on it!"

#fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #eddie x steve #egg baby au

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stellahaze135 · 11 months

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Ok so hear me out, the reason my blanket OC NightShade or Shade (the one that has Umbrakinesis.) has that monicker is because of Ivy. Ivy n Shade have always been cool, almost like a sibling bond, and Ivy’s always called her different flower names. One night, one really stuck after Shade helped Ivy raid/sabotage a chemical processing plant, where Shade for one of the first times uses her powers in an effective combative way. Ivy makes the offhand comment of ‘Thatta girl! Beware The Deadly Nightshade!’ And it kinda stuck. Well years go by, Shade gets real damn good at tech things and espionage (you can tell she shadowed Selina a lot on her heists being an honorary Gotham City Siren.) but eventually an event happened where it kinda forced her to look for new surroundings.

The earthquake that practically leveled the city, forcing it to become a No-Man’s Land. (talking the comic arc not the season of Harley Quinn just to clarify.) So she was able to find work in, guess where, but Raccon City. She finds work, ironically, at the R.P.D in their tech dept. specifically under the S.T.A.R.S division. Where she meets and becomes friends with most of the team including Jill, Chris, and Rebecca (I actually have a headcanon that Rebecca is actually one of the first people in RC to find out about Shade’s powers but because Rebecca is a literal angel, she promises to never tell!) and of course Captain Wesker. Now, she always knew Umbrella and Raccoon were dirty, like more corrupted than Gotham, and THAT was definitely saying something. But she had no idea Wesker was working for Umbrella all along. Until she happened to unwillingly listen in on a phone call between Wesker and Birkin. She always had complicated feelings about the Captain. He was drop dead gorgeous but he was also a bit scary to tell the truth. And she was used to people like Scarecrow and Joker. But to learn that he was working with Umbrella well that put a bit of ice in her veins for sure. She knew that because of her status as metahuman/mutant that could put her in all sorts of danger that she didn’t want any part of. She spent enough time in Arkham to be incredibly weary of scientists. She never wanted to be another experiment ever again. But her feelings, destiny, and he had other plans.

Wesker took an interest in her anyway, despite not knowing what she was. He considered her quite intelligent resourceful and he had to admit that he found her incredibly attractive. If she was afraid of him she knew how to put up a good front. She’d give his sarcasm and snark right back to him, and definitely didn’t take any shit from anyone else. The teams would joke that you could definitely tell she was a Gotham girl. And despite everything, Shade and the Captain still managed to hook up. (Shade like me has a really hard time saying no to that little voice in our heads that tells us to not do the fucking thing that we really shouldn’t do.) Anyways skip to the mansion incident, and both Shade and Albert are forced to show their hands. And Wesker’s just plain impressed ok? Not only did she manage to hide this beautiful development (seriously he thought she was breathtaking the first time she used her powers. Would he ever admit that out loud to anyone else? Probably not.) but she managed to hide them while they were fucking? He definitely made a mental note to keep tabs on her in the future eventually trying to win her over to his side as an asset, and he silently hoped future Goddess to his God. Which he does. Well he wins her over to his side anyway. She hates to admit it but Wesker’s become the Joker to her Harley. He’s got her wrapped around his little finger, but she hates to do anything against Chris and the others. He’d call her weak but she’d counter that she still has a moral compass. A definitely damaged one, but it still works. Skip through 5 and his death. She comes to terms with their relationship however incredibly messy it was, and decides she needs to move on…. Then Chris gets wind of happenings in Eastern Europe. And well let’s just say a new distraction in the form of a burly crass sexy metal man that chain smoked the finest of cigars with enormous mommy issues. But oh is Karl actually so sweet to her. He puts up a good front she wasn’t gunna lie, but once they got to know one another work together to take down Miranda… Well she found Albert Wesker to be a distant memory. For now.

I wanna set up a love triangle and maybe eventual poly relationship with the three of them. Like after Village, Shade n Karl get sent to Arkham, but this time with Karl she’s willing to go cause fuck they’ve been through some shit and need to talk it out. Being years later, the city and asylum have been rebuilt.

Things seem to settle down, Shade’s content, and Karl’s been really receptive to therapy. That is until another curve ball was dealt. Wesker somehow survived the volcano, pulled out by his own people after the dust had settled, but as they were busy keeping Albert stable, the BSAA breaks in. They apprehend Wesker and where is it decided that he be sent to? Arkham Asylum of course. If they had the capability to contain the likes of Poison Ivy and Killer Croc then they had the facilities to keep him contained.

I‘d love to see Karl n Albert bickering and the sexual tension is palpable, and I don’t know who moved in first but in a split second the two are passionately making out. Wesker mostly doms both Karl and Shade, Karl’s a classic switch, and Shade for all her bark is a bit subby.

#karl heisenberg #resident evil #lord karl heisenberg #resident evil village #re8 #lord heisenberg #resident evil 8 #albert wesker #re albert wesker #Wesker #karl heisenberg x reader #albert wesker x reader #Karl Heisenberg x Albert Wesker x you #poison Ivy #Harley Quinn #Arkham asylum #Arkham #dc rouges #no bats or birds only rogues

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