#so now clip is probing

[caligulalotus]

alternate parker doesn’t know who jessica telephone is apparently. he does remember fall ball though.

#his response to ‘what do you remember before this’ was just fall ball #and then ‘anything before that?’ was ‘yea? what changed? who’s jessica telephone’ #after being told he said ‘doesn’t ring a bell’ #so now clip is probing

[pucksandpower]

Achilles Come Down

Charles Leclerc x soft dom!Reader

Summary: sometimes you have to take control to get Charles out of his own head

Warnings: 18+ content

Based on this request with some little hints here and there that the reader is Charles’ race engineer (inspired by him getting a new race engineer all of a sudden in real life)

The garage is eerily quiet as you make your way towards Charles’ driver’s room, the usual buzz of activity muted in the wake of his DNF. His familiar red race suit is marred by streaks of oil and rubber, a physical reminder of the mechanical failure that ended his race prematurely.

Charles stalks ahead of you, his body taut with frustration. You can practically see the negative thoughts racing through his mind, the self-recrimination and second-guessing he’s so prone to despite the circumstances being completely out of his control.

“Charles, wait up,” you call out, struggling to match his clipped pace. He pauses with his hand on the door handle, jaw clenched.

“What is there to say, Y/N? My race is over before it could even properly begin.” The defeat in his voice cuts you deeply.

“This wasn’t your fault,” you insist, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “A rear brake malfunction is out of your hands.”

He shrugs you off, throat bobbing with repressed emotion. “I’m the one behind the wheel. I should have sensed something was wrong, made adjustments ...”

“You can’t control every little thing on that car, no matter how talented you are,” you interrupt firmly. “Sometimes factors outside your control are going to screw things up. Dwelling on it won’t change that.”

Charles lets out a harsh exhale, raking frustrated fingers through his sweat-dampened curls. “Easy for you to say. It’s not your championship hopes slipping away with every botched race.”

You resist the urge to snap back, knowing his irritability stems from disappointment rather than any real malice towards you. Taking a calming breath, you change tacks.

“Okay, let’s go inside and get you out of that suit at least,” you suggest in a gentler tone. “We can debrief the data after you’ve had a chance to reset.”

Charles hesitates, chewing on his full lower lip in an unconscious gesture of indecision. You frame his face with your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze.

“Trust me, baby. Let me take care of you for once.”

The rigidity finally seeps from his stance as he gives a jerky nod of acquiescence. You push open the door and usher him inside, the familiar smells of his favorite Dior cologne and heat-weathered leather enveloping you both.

Once the door clicks shut, blocking out the distractions of the paddock, you move in close to begin unzipping Charles’ kinetic race suit. He stands stiffly as you peel away each layer until he’s stripped down to just his snug fireproof undershirt and shorts.

Running soothing hands over his tense shoulders and neck, you knead at the knots of muscles corded there. A low exhale shudders from Charles’ lips as some of the pent-up stress bleeds out of his frame.

“That’s it, let it all go,” you murmur. “Your only job now is to relax and let me take over for once.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles, the barest ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You circle around to face him again, hands roaming over the lean muscles of his chest and abs through the thin fabric. Leaning in, you capture his lips in a deep, probing kiss, slanting your mouth over his again and again until his tension fully dissolves and he melts into your touch.

“Better?” You ask with a quirked brow as you finally pull back, taking in his dazed expression.

“Getting there,” Charles replies, pupils already blown wide with arousal. He surges forward to recapture your lips hungrily.

You allow him to control the heated kiss for a few indulgent moments before taking charge once more, pushing firmly against his chest until the backs of his thighs hit the edge of the sleek, ultra-modern sofa. He flops back with a breathless chuckle as you crawl over him, straddling his waist and rocking your hips against his in a pointed grind.

“Just relax and let me handle this,” you rasp against the hinge of his jaw, relishing the full-body shudder that wracks his frame.

Your hands deftly slip beneath the hem of his undershirt, pushing it up and over his head to expose his toned upper body before latching your lips to the hollow of his throat. Charles tips his head back in blissful surrender as you lavish hot, openmouthed kisses along the thunderous pulse point and down the sculpted grooves of his chest.

His hands struggle to find purchase as your mouth trails lower still, tracing nonsensical patterns through the trial of hair. Every swirl of your tongue is deliberate, thorough, a reminder to him to stay grounded in the present moment, focused solely on the exquisite sensations you’re lavishing upon his body.

You pause with your face hovering inches above the waistband of his shorts, reveling in the pure want burning in Charles’ lust-darkened gaze as he watches you through his veil of tousled chestnut curls. Hooking your fingers into the stretchy material, you ease it down, never breaking that heated eye contact.

Charles is already achingly hard, hips twitching upwards in search of some kind of delicious friction. You blow a teasing stream of air over his length, relishing the way he squirms and lets out a guttural moan. Only then do you take him fully into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the velvety crown before sinking down in one smooth glide.

“F-Fuck ...” Charles’ head thrashes against the armrest as his hands scrabble uselessly at the supple leather, trying and failing to find purchase. You hum in satisfaction around your mouthful, the vibrations jolting through him with dizzying intensity.

Knowing he’s dangerously close already, you ease off with one last lingering lick. Charles whines in protest, hips canting upwards to chase that incredible heat and suction. But rather than continuing with your talented mouth, you throw one lean leg over his body to straddle his hips once more.

Charles swallows hard as you reach behind to unclasp your lacy bra, shrugging it off your shoulders and allowing it to puddle onto the floor. He tracks the motion with rapt attention, fingers twitching with the overwhelming need to touch.

Before he can make a move, you halt him with a stern look and guiding hand wrapped around his wrist. “Nuh-uh, I’m in charge here, remember?”

Charles makes a thin, desperate sound but complies, allowing you to pin both wrists above his head. His chest heaves with each shuddering inhale as he watches you shimmy out of your skin tight jeans with your core hovering just above his straining length.

Then, maintaining that heated eye contact, you sink down unbearably slowly until he’s sheathed fully inside you. Charles’ mouth drops open in a low keen as you begin to move in an unhurried grind, savoring each delicious inch.

“You feel that?” You rasp, leaning down to capture his plush bottom lip between your teeth. “You’re not alone in this, baby. I’ve got you.”

Charles nods frantically, hips jerking upwards in a broken rhythm to chase that incredible friction. You release his wrists in favor of framing his face, anchoring him to this intense connection amid the swirling sensations.

“Don’t think about the race or the championship,” you order in a low murmur. “There’s only you and me, here and now. Got it?”

“Yes ...” Charles moans in affirmation as your pace picks up the tiniest bit, guiding him closer and closer to that blissful edge.

Perspiration sheens over both your bodies, slick skin sliding together in an intoxicating glide. His hands roam hungrily over every inch of you, mapping each sculpted curve and plane like a long-cherished map. You snake one hand between your joined bodies to stroke him in counterpoint to your rolling undulations, determined to shatter him into a million ecstatic pieces.

Charles’ breath grows increasingly ragged, each strangled cry of pleasure driving you higher towards your own shattering peak. “Look at me,” you demand, cupping his stubbled jaw. His glassy emerald eyes lock onto yours obediently. “I’m all that matters right now.”

He shudders beneath you, mouth dropping open in a choked groan as his orgasm slams into him with full force. You bear down harder, chasing your own release to the soundtrack of his gasping whimpers. White-hot pleasure detonates through your nerve endings, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake.

Collapsing bonelessly atop him, you nuzzle against the slick hollow of his throat, placing a tender kiss over his pulse as you both struggle to catch your breath. Charles’ arms envelop you, his frame still quivering with aftershocks.

“Better?” You murmur against his salted skin, unable to resist a teasing smirk.

A breathless laugh huffs from his lips. “So much better. I ...” He pauses, seeming to search for the right words. “Thank you, mon ange. For not letting me spiral.”

“Always,” you vow simply, tilting your head to capture his lips in a deep, searing kiss. When you finally break apart, his eyes are warm and clear, no longer clouded by that self-destructive darkness.

A tender smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you brush back the damp chestnut curls from his forehead. In this quiet moment, with his body and soul laid bare before you, you know the roles have switched once more. He’s gone from race driver to simply Charles — your Charles — and you’ll protect that brilliant light within him with everything you have.

“We can debrief the data later,” he murmurs, mirroring your earlier words with a contented grin. “For now, I just want to stay right here with you.”

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc #cl16 #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #scuderia ferrari #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc drabble

[bits-and-babs]

hi, i'm so very sorry for your loss, hope you're okay since it's been a few days since you posted this

could i ask a combo 14 - 16 - 23 with our favorite flyboy poe dameron with a nice and happy ending <3

sending you all my love :))

-ˋˏ 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐊𝐀 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 ˎˊ-

— pairing: Poe Dameron x f!Reader

— word count: 1.1k

— warnings: Jealous Poe, Tipsy Poe. Thigh riding, exhibitionism, dirty talk as ALWAYS. Consumption of alcohol. References to sex, 18+, Ya Nasties.

— authors note: Thank you so much for your condolences, I am doing much better now <3 this ask was DELICIOUS to write, I really appreciate the distraction. I don’t know if it’s exactly what you wanted but I started writing and couldn’t stop!

poe dameron masterlist I| main masterlist |I send me an ask

A sour scent of Spotchka permeates the cantina booth you sit in and burns your nose. It's flowing heavily today to celebrate a significant win against the First Order, the liquid soaked into the seats. The implosion of the Star Killer base had been a critical mission success, one that guaranteed The Resistance the opportunity to fight another day.

Morale was high, and General Organa saw no reason to put a stop to the celebrations when everyone was in need of some sort of release.

However, you feel tenser than you did in the sky, blasting tie fighters; muscles primed and ready to spring. Your brain has initiated evasive action, but your body is frozen in place by the oak-brown eyes that settle intensely on your face.

Poe swirls the blue beverage in the tumble glass, creating a miniature whirlpool, not unlike the twisting feeling in your stomach. His gaze, irises obscured by his hooded eyelids, sets sparks across your skin like an ion charge.

He lifts the glass to his lips, taking a swig of the azure liquid and savouring the burn on his tongue. You hear him exhale slowly through his nose despite the din of the bustling Cantina. It's like your senses are honed in on the gold leader, blurring out the background noise.

"So, you and Gold-Twelve, huh?”

Your mouth dries when his eyes lift back to you, a playful spark of something dangerous flitting in his pupils. Had he seen that? The flirty arm that Kori had wrapped around your waist. The squeeze he’d given your hip— the brush of his palm against the curve of your ass.

“H-Huh?”

“Sure seems like he was getting cosy with you, Seven.” His tone is pointed but not vicious. There’s something clipped in his voice- something envious.

“N-No-… No, we’re jus-“

“No?” He asks you, pointing to the bar while maintaining a grip on the crystal glass in his hand, “Could have fooled me, Seven. He seemed ready to take you to his bunk.”

You feel heat flush your face, eyes burning into the ak-wood tabletop. Had it been imported from Tython? The rings and swirls within the grain were pretty, maybe pretty enough to convince Poe you were too distracted to listen to his probing questions-

“Come here.”

Your body betrays you. Startled by his order, your eyes snap up to his face. Poe’s eyebrow is quirked upwards, indicating his unwillingness to wait. He’s radiating this energy, something that makes your insides scream with delight.

“B-But-“

“If you’re not seeing Kori, come here.”

Seeing?! What the kriff did he even mean by that? Did he think you two were sleeping together, because you sure as kark weren’t dating! You stumble like a newborn foal out of your side of the booth, practically floating around the table to reach where he waits expectantly.

You barely slide into the booth when he’s pulling you onto his lap, hands vice-like on your hips as he settles you on his left thigh. A gasp rips itself from your throat, whiny in pitch, when he balances on his toes and grinds the muscle of his against your clit.

He’s gazing up at you, those eyes melting like chocolate when he looks at you through his lashes. Poe reminds you so much of it, rich and sweet and rare. When he parts his lips, your tongue begs to taste them, craving the oxytocin.

“I-“ you stumble; the sweep of his hands up your back in a soothing gesture makes your heart stutter and slam into your throat. “I’mnotdatingKori!”

The induced slur of the admission makes him smile, leaning up ever so slightly to get closer to you. Spotchka hangs heavy on his breath when he exhales a sigh, the tip of his nose brushing against the soft flesh of your cheek when he presses a kiss to your jaw.

“Good. That’s good,” he murmurs, his own words dripping together as though all the blue alcohol has hit him all at once. Poe isn’t totally drunk. He needs rivers of Spotchka to get intoxicated, preferring the much stronger Jet-Juice as it was less of a drain on his credits and more of a buzz on his brain.

No, if you knew better, you’d realise that he’s inebriated by you. The feeling of your body on his, the feeling of your cunt grinding on his lap when he drags you forward.

Whimpering, your hands fly out to hold onto the leather shoulders of his jacket. You’re trembling already, the effects of his touch hitting you much harder than even the strongest of alcoholic beverages they served in this shitty cantina. The friction, even through your clothes, settles a twisting feeling in your abdomen when he slides his palms under your ass, grabbing a handful of you and using it as leverage.

“P-Poe-“ you moan out his name, knowing damn well that half of the patrons in the damn bar could look over and see you getting all but fucked by the Black Leader, right hand to General Leia Organa.

“So pretty for me on my lap,” he whispers, eyes engulfed by the blackness of his pupils as he sweeps them over your form as you roll your hips across the length of his muscular thigh. Poe Dameron was well known for being too damn ‘thick’ for his x-wing seat, and you can feel why. “Think you’d look so pretty for me on my cock, baby. Fuck, look at you-“

Stars, you’re gripping the leather of the booth, fingernails scratching the surface beyond repair as you feel a surge pass through you, crackling like force-lightning up your spinal cord and short-fusing your brain.

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head at you, lips pulling apart in another Dameron-Dreamy smile as he works his hands between you, belt clicking quietly amongst the loud celebration of drunk revellers. “Pretty baby’s gonna wait until I’ve got a taste of what she looks like all filled up.”

Spotchka and endorphins are flooding your system; you don’t even bother to second-guess the location, the people in the room, the logistics. You just scramble to remove your cargo pants, Poe’s fingers hooking into the waistband and yanking them down just enough to slip you onto his aching dick.

The whole of Yavin 4 learns that you most certainly are not ‘seeing’ Gold-Twelve and that Black Leader Poe Dameron had already staked his claim, much to Kori’s disappointment.

Much to your delight.

END

#poe dameron #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron smut #poe dameron fic #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x you #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron x reader #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac x reader #જ⁀➴ mail: received

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

So small

RecomLyle x HumanReader

Summary: This you

Gif source

Or Reader becomes obsessed with Lyle through old recordings and is a little disappointment when they meet him.

Corporal Lyle Wainfleet was dead, a fact you had to remind yourself everyday. It'd been one of your duties in preparation before reaching Pandora to go over the archive footage. With the Recombinants almost ready to be paired with their soul drives the lead scientist had though it prudent. More data to better smooth their transition.

You'd sifted through hours of log entries and recorded calls and felt you had a pretty good grasp on the team. Especially important seeing as you'd be their physician going forward. The job wasn't sought after, in fact they'd practically begged you to take it.

You were pretty anxious about meeting the team. Every one of them was a battle hardened soldier and you felt very meek in comparison. Though there was perhaps one soldier you were looking forward to meeting.

It was a secret shame, you held tightly to your chest. Corporal Lyle Wainfleet was the Colonel's right hand man. This was perhaps the reason he came up so often in the footage. Videos of him on na'vi attack sights, behind the Colonel during meetings and your personal favourite, the soul drive talk.

He was cheeky, smart and handsome. You couldn't get enough of his voice. Listening back to clips hundreds of times just to re-hear a joke. God you'd even been taking extra trips down to the lab. All under the guise of checking up on things of course.

He was almost ready now. His toned muscle formed using probing shocks over the journey, giving him his old build. The techs had images pulled up of his profile, fully body images that you definitely didn't spend too long ogling.

They were preparing to redo his tattoos. A technique they'd discovered with the old Avatar program. It did something to help them psychologically adjust, having those parts of themselves intact. It's why they were also shaving his head, best to give them the best start they could.

You admired his new face on the gurney. Four others had already been woken up, all separately. Each person given the full attention of the staff as it was a rather traumatic experience. Your heart already ached for him, this wasn't gonna be pleasant. Prager had had a full on panic attack and Zdog was still quaking.

You sucked in a deep breath and began the program. It took a good while for the drive to finish. You sat tapping your foot, sweating in the hazmat suit. It was for the recoms benefit, best to have their own air fill their lungs at this stage. The lights turned off the apparatus on his head, the screen reading his brain function lighting up.

Your colleague gave you a nod, it was time. The IV's were detached and you readied the final step. A needle containing the compound that'd clear the anesthetic. With a final push the months of anticipation ended.

Lyle woke slowly, his eyes barely able to stay open against the bright light. You shifted into vision to block it, watching his pupils focus on you, dilating slightly. Good response, reflexes were working!

"Lyle Wainfleet? Can you hear me?" You began, there were a few basic protocols to run through. He groaned in response, trying to turn from the bright light your colleague shone in his eyes.

They had begun the physical response tests, seemingly eager to be done with all this. You shot them a look before they pulled back their hand from his ear exasperated. However the damage had been done, Lyle had felt his ear flick.

It was chaos then. You took a few steps back as Lyle shot up. He stumbled around, staring at his hands, his legs, every inch of blue skin visible. In the heightened state his tail began to thrash behind him, causing him more distress as he noted the new limb.

"Lyle. Lyle?" You called after him. Stepping slowing into his vision as he held his tail in a fist. His panicked eyes shot to you, taking in your own guarded stance. You hand your hands raised, edging closer.

He relaxed a little, still breathing heavily as you closed the distance. You put a hand gently on his arm, smiling up at his pale expression.

"You're okay Lyle, it's all okay. Any questions you have I can answer, you'll remember soon." You squeezed his arm gently as you spoke. His breathing settled and he stood up straighter, returning you smile.

Even in this new form it sent butterflies swarming in your stomach.

"Till then please come sit, we have a few more test to run." You ushered him to follow you back to the gurney, glaring at your sheepish colleague.

The tests went by much easier after that. His demeanor settling back to the man you'd met through the screens. You felt a little guilty now, having invaded this man's privacy. Though all the videos were RDA record and he'd been aware of that whilst recording, it still made you uneasy. This new Lyle wouldn't know how much you already knew about him.

You lead him out of the medical wing, giving him an air mask before getting out of the hazmat. You were relieved it'd be tomorrow before you'd be back in it to wake the Colonel. You could feel the sweat drip down your chest, god you needed a shower.

You looked up at Lyle, who in turn was staring down at you. You flushed, you must look a mess. His eyes trailed over your form before something seemed to distract him.

"Where's everyone else?" He asked, his head turning to look down the corridor.

"Oh um, follow me!" You lead him to those who'd already been awoken. You'd felt a little disappointed, having hoped you'd be able to spend a little more time with him. You'd have plenty you reassured yourself, being the teams doctor. Still you wished he'd joke with you, chat like he did with the others in the videos. He'd seemed uninterested in you.

The other Recoms were delighted to see Lyle. Jostling around him to welcome him back. Fike shifted round to clap his shoulder, nudging you with his leg and tail.

"Hey! hey!" Lyle scolded, suddenly scooping you up by the underarms. You flush as you dangle in the air for a second before Lyle sets you down out the way. "Careful of the little doctor." He nodded to you before returning his attention to the others.

"Shoot my bad." Fike sighed, his ears tipping as he glances over to you. You smiled up at him, he'd had a real hard time when he woke. The physical tests went great until he got the spacial ones. The much larger form and tail were gonna take a lot of getting used to.

"Where's the Colonel?" Lyle questioned, looking across the familiar faces. Zdog had her hand on his shoulder. You recognized her from the videos. She seemed to be pretty close to Lyle, the thought twisting in your gut.

She was pretty. No she was gorgeous. Long toned legs, beautiful, strong and her tattoos? Who could compare. You swallowed, hard, Lyle's stern expression turning to you.

"Oh he's still asleep. We're waking him tomorrow, first thing." You added, Lyle's frown still fixed on you. He looked annoyed at you before grumbling and stalking to his locker.

You floundered a little. Looking around at the recoms backs before turning to leave. Your fantasy of being friends fizzling away. It was stupid, these were soldiers. They didn't want a little doctor buddy. They didn't need your friendship. The job ahead of your looking grim now, you went to your own quarters in a slump.

You were called upon the next day. The unit were antsy and wanted to be there when you woke the Colonel. It wasn't against any of the protocols and if you were honest you would like the back up.

They seemed in much higher spirits at least. Though this was only really shared between themselves. You only got a glance from Lyle, who had smiled at least. Maybe just glad you'd allowed them to be here, even shifted the procedure to be earlier than scheduled.

You'd been dreading waking Colonel Quaritch up since you were added to the project. With his background and temperament he was going to be trouble, you just knew it.

Still you went through the protocol, ushering the unit to stand back out of view for the moment. Given the Colonel's background with na'vi, their faces wouldn't be best to wake up to.

You read out his pulse as he came too, eyes twitching open. You leaned over his form as your colleague, brought out his pen light again. You grumbled, he was technically in charge and your boss until you landed. You still would've liked to give Quaritch a moment before shining a light right in his face.

"Your fine, lie still stay calm" You spoke, smiling gently at his shifting form. Hoping your words could make up for the rude awaking.

"Pupillary reflex good" Your colleague spoke. Behind him you spied Lyle approaching quickly, frowning deeply. You wanted to tell him to stay back but he was there too quick.

"Get that out of his face." He grumbled, pulling the other doctor back by his shoulder. Lyle leaned into Quaritch's face.

"Colonel. you hear me? Colonel?" He shook Quaritch's shoulder gently. Suddenly Quaritch swung at him, fist connecting with his cheek.

You flinched back at the sudden movement, watching as Lyle caught himself on the parallel gurney. You backed up again as Quaritch flung himself off the bed, catching himself on the IV poll.

"You need to lie back down Sir!" You yelled, panic tinging your voice. Lyle approached him again, raising his hands to try calm him. Quaritch growled at him before lunging forward, grabbing the over head light and flinging it at him

You shrieked, backing up more as Quaritch grabbed your tray of medical tools and threw it too. The sharp implements flung wildly in the air. You swung your hands up to protect your face from the hail of equipment.

Lyle moved forward past you again. He went to grab Quaritch's shoulder but was pushed off harshly again, Quaritch hissing.

"Sedate him, sedate him!" You called over to your stunned colleague. The man seemed frozen across the room, shifting back further into the corner.

Fike snuck up behind Quaritch to grab him but you saw his ears flick back, hearing his approach. He spun and struck him, sending Fike sprawling against the wall.

Lyle rushed to you now. "Go get out of here" He fretted, hand coming gently to your shoulder. You were still, hesitating, worried you were still needed here.

"You get out of here, go!" He shouted more firmly now, ushering you to the exit with speed. He pushed you more urgently to it before turning back to the team.

You stumbled through the door, calling down the hall for security before turning back to the window.

The team had him now, pinned between them with Lyle grabbing his torso.

"Colonel calm down. Colonel it's me. Corporal Wainfleet!" He shifts around staying in Quaritch's line of sight. Even from your distance you catch the recognition, breathing a sigh of relief when Quaritch's body stills.

A security officer approached, gun drawn. You wave him off, giving him the all clear before re-entering the room. Quaritch stalked over to the mirror to investigate his reflection. You spied your colleague more put together again, itching to escape but caught on the other side of giant bodies.

Lyle glanced back over to you, his hand shot up to stop your approach as he eyed his boss. Lyle's nose is still bleeding from where he was hit, blood trickling down onto his shirt.

When Quaritch moved to your colleague to be examined you approach Lyle.

"Let me take a look at that." You say as you get closer. Lyle looks down to you, hand coming up to his nose. He seems surprised when it comes away bloody but dismisses it.

"It's fine." He waves you off. You sigh, at his dismissal, you should probably check Fike out too.

"Just let me see if its broken." You say firmly. Lyle pauses looking back to you a moment, he hesitates but relents. You expect him to move to the gurney but instead he takes a knee in front of you.

You step closer, to the side of his leg, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks at the proximity. You let your hands touch his face gently, keeping your focus on his nose, rather than his watching eyes. You press lightly on the bridge.

"Ow!" Lyle yelps, you pull your hands away suddenly.

"Oh god I sorry!" You feel your face heat further but he just laughs, grinning at you.

"Just playin' buttercup" He smirks. Your face falls into a scowl that only makes him laugh more.

"You're fine." You grumble. He smiles widely at you before getting back up. Your heart flutters as he taps your shoulder gently before going back over to Quartich.

Fike is okay too, these guys too tough for a little punch to do any harm. He smiles broadly at you before jumping down to rejoin the group. Still Lyle cannot help but watch over his shoulder at you both. Sweet little thing worrying about these big soldiers.

He'd done some digging last night, too anxious to sleep. You were gonna be stationed with them. There own personal doctor, trained to deal with their new biology. He was glad for it, nice to have you stuck with them. He wanted desperately to get to know you better.

He'd really though he was dead when he saw you hovering over him, his own angel. Feeling a little too shell shocked to flirt but there was room to now. He'd really enjoyed your cute little frown at his joke, maybe a little ill timed. Still he had all week to charm you before you landed and he intended to.

#lyle wainfleet x reader #lyle wainfleet #the way of water #avatar imagine #my fics #might continue this got another idea for lyle coming back with minor injuries just to see you

[hiskillingjar]

Genderbend (All/MC)

day 28: genderbend second person. cw for dubious consent (drunk sex) and some (reclaimed) slur use. also general heads up for a trans woman's junk being referred to as a cock. be cool.

love you lesbians xo

🥀

"Mmph,"

You groaned softly against Law's lips as she pressed her body close, her slim hips bucking down against yours while she was perched in your lap. Her long skirt rode up her long legs and around her (heavily scarred) thighs, a firm grip on your shoulders, as she kept your body still with her own, rutting together on top of her bed.

"Ahhnn..."

You had gone round to her apartment after group therapy, since she had been kind enough to invite you round. You understood, in a way. You had spilled something particularly difficult during circle talk, and you were feeling delicate for one reason or another, and...well, one thing had led to another, as they often tended to do with the two of you.

Law kissed the same way she spoke at therapy; not at all and then all at once, her hungry mouth pressing down against yours and her probing tongue running over your parted lips as she inched closer, like she was desperate to have you, desperate to claim every inch of you as her own.

You kind of liked that. 

You'd always had kind of a thing for possessive girls, after all.

"Is this okay?" She murmured hotly against your lips, running the (bumped) bridge of her nose against yours as her blonde brows furrowed beneath her bangs, just slightly, worry clear on her pretty face. "I mean, I know group was...hard for you today. You said something pretty intense, so I just wanted to be sure-"

"Yes, Law, everything is fine," You interrupted her, curtly enough that she pulled back from the kiss, her face flushed and her kiss-bitten lips parting with a little surprise. "I mean...ah, sorry, I just don't need to talk about it, especially not right now and...you know, not with you. You know how it is..."

"Yeah," She nodded, reaching up to gently sweep a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear (her nails were painted black like yours were), nibbling her lip shyly. "Yeah, don't worry, I know what you mean...I won't mention it again."

"Thank you," You replied with a slightly uneasy smile, wiping your wet lips with the back of your hand as you slid your palm down her back to pull her in closer, enjoying her comforting warmth against you. "But, ah...do you think we can change this over?" 

"Hm?" She blinked her doe-grey eyes down at you, her expression curious despite how much her body trembled under your touch. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," You murmured into her shoulder, peering at where her laptop was perched on her desk, playing a video. "Jeez, Law, did you have to put on one of your websites again? This is...kind of distracting..."

Maybe you wouldn't have minded if she was playing something random, a romance movie or a bad porno, something to set the mood and to get the two of you hot and bothered.

But... 

Law's watching habits were a little, uh...unhealthy to say the least. 

You had tried to pretend the 'Best Gore' compilation she watched every time you were around, the times when the two of you would smoke yourselves silly and fuck all night long, was just footage from a particularly graphic horror movie, things you were acquainted with and enjoyed plenty, but...

You couldn't pretend every time.

You took a guess that this clip was someone getting hit by a car. Not the worst you'd seen, there was barely any blood and no audio, but still...it was just dehumanising and repulsive all the same, seeing someone die on screen. 

"It's...it's not that bad," She replied, though her cheeks were flushed a little darker like she had been caught doing something that she shouldn't have. You had a sense that she was self-conscious about this habit of hers, but evidently not enough to actually stop it. "Really, there's...a lot worse out there. This is a pretty tame one."

"I don't like that you said that," You mumbled, pressing your face into her shoulder, doing your best to not look at the screen as your hands slipped from her back and down to her hips, doing your best to still her as she moved. “I don’t like that there’s tame and…like, extreme to you. You shouldn’t watch this stuff.”

Your hands evidently did nothing to stop her since she groaned softly, rocking her hips down against yours and giving away instantly how excited she was. You would have been turned on, maybe even desperately, if your eyes didn't keep flitting to her laptop screen with a little frown.

"And it's really grossing me out," In your peripheral vision, you saw the next clip start to play; the grating teeth of a saw cutting through a living subject, a war injury, you assumed, while the guy screamed bloody murder. You instantly pressed your face a little harder into her skin and clung to her tight. "And killing the mood, ya know."

"Come on," She whispered, her low voice a gentle coo (almost maternal, if you wanted to get even more fucked up and Freudian and god, if she wanted you to call her 'mommy', you just might have), as she stroked through your hair and pressed closer too, letting her legs spread even more so that her skirt had ridden up completely, exposing the tight waistband of her tights, the straining gusset of her dark boyshorts underneath, the hard line of her cock. "It's just...how life is, you know? Sometimes, it's good to see death to make you appreciate how good you have it."

"Okay, John Kramer," You said with an uncomfortable laugh, though you could tell that she didn't get your joke when she kept going, taking one of your hands from her hips and guiding it up to her chest. Her small breast filled your palm nicely when you pushed your hand past her low-cut shirt and into the cup of her bralette, and she clearly enjoyed it when you touched her cool skin, since she was still moaning. "C'mon, Law, let's watch a porno or something. I wanna get in the mood for when you fuck me..."

"I don't want to watch porn. I don't like porn." Lawrence murmured with a little pout, shifting in your lap and reaching up to unbutton her shirt and slide it down her shoulders exposing her skimpy bralette and pale, freckled shoulders and chest, before placing her hands between your legs and unzipping your jeans. "Besides...you like horror movies, don't you? Just…think of this like one of those."

Once your jeans were open, her hand moved up to your stomach and slipped inside your underwear.

"Ahhhn..." You moaned as she pressed her fingers into your panties, shivering a little more as you held her tight and shifted your hips upwards, trying to urge her to press even deeper, feel the wetness of your cunt. "Law, please..."

"You know you like it," Her lips brushed against your ear in a gentle kiss, her voice going quieter than before as her fingers brushed up against each nerve inside you, relishing in your slick wetness. "Well, I know you do, anyway...and that's probably all that matters."

🦊

"Oh, shit!" 

You dashed out of the open doorway of the convention's midnight rave at the familiar sound of retching, running to the aid of the familiar girl who was hunched over in an alley by herself, fighting through your own intoxication and inebriation to help someone in need.

"Ohmigod, Ren, are you okay?" You said, kneeling behind her and rubbing a hand up and down her back, the silk of her cheap cosplay outfit smooth on your palm. "I'm soooo sorry I lost you at the rave, did you drink too much?"

"H-Huh?"

Ren glanced back at you over her shoulder, her short hair poking out under her wig, she was so disheveled, and vomit streaked down her chin, messing up her make-up. 

"Mph...y-yeah, I drank a little," She murmured with a heavy sigh, evidently fighting to keep in what little contents were still in her stomach, reaching up to wipe her teary eyes (and staining her gloves as she did so). "Guys kept buying me drinks while I was standing at the bar waiting for you too. Totally gross." She stuck her tongue out with a frown, letting her heavy head rest back against the brick wall of the alleyway. "H-How about you, are you drunk too?"

"Mmhmm," You said with a bashful smile, sitting down with her on the wet cement floor and rubbing her back encouragingly, trying to help her stomach settle. "I didn't get bought drinks though, so I'm not puking my guts out like you are."

"Mm, I'm not surprised," She replied with a tipsy, little giggle, letting her head rest on your shoulder as she curled up close, her tail grazing your ankles as it curled around you. "Like, I do look pretty cute. I think I deserve more attention because of that."

"Lower that ego, honey," You chuckled with a roll of your eyes, nuzzling your face against the shiny plastic crown of her wig, giving it a light tug. "Or don't...that confidence might actually have been pretty sexy if you weren't covered in vomit."

"Well, you're pretty sexy, too." She said, pressing her sweaty face up against your neck, scenting you, enjoying you as her tail began to wag more. "I think the nerdy guys didn't hit on you, because they were intimidated by how hot you are in this outfit. Not like I blame them, either."

"Oh yeah?" You said with a raised brow and a slight smirk, letting your hand drift down her neck, toying with the stiff collar of her blouse, down her slim shoulder. "You like my outfit, Ren?"

"Mmm, you know it." She purred (despite how much her voice was still slurring from intoxication), rubbing her nose against your neck as her own hands drifted down your front, feeling your soft chest while her golden eyes flitted up and down your face, landing on your lips. "I don't think I could keep my hands off you..."

You tilted your head, your smirk growing a little broader.

"Maybe you shouldn't keep your hands off of me then..." You suggested, leaning in a little closer, running your lips off of hers. "If you want to, of course."

Ren gave your collar a playful tug with a sharp-toothed grin, her fangs grazing over yours, before she placed a hand around the back of your neck and pulled you into a close kiss. Your body was supple and pliable in her hands, and you groaned softly into the kiss, pressing closer to her as she gripped the collar a little tighter, pinning your lips against hers, asserting her control, her dominance, even when she was drunk.

"Mine," She whispered against your lips, continuing to run kisses across your face and down your exposed neck, her hands roving over your body, feeling your skin beneath the cheap cosplay. Her breath was hot and warm on your throat and made you shiver. "Mine..."

“Possessive,” You murmured, chasing after another kiss as you threaded your arms around her neck, keeping her close. “And you taste like vomit.”

She giggled softly, her hands running further down your body, over the tight elastic of your thigh-high stocking and to the soft flesh spilling over the top.

"I think you taste worse." She pressed her mouth further down your neck, digging her nails into your thighs and letting her fingers slip up a little further, against the slowly soaking gusset of your panties beneath your skirt. “I’m gonna get a better taste, I think…”

Before you could stop her, she sank down onto her knees, the wet damp of the cement floor soaking into her own thigh highs, nestling her face beneath your skirt and cheap petticoat, and ran her tongue over the front of your panties, doing her best to get a taste of you.

You shrieked with delight at the action, letting your fingers curl into the cheap fibers of her wig and pull her even closer, rutting your hips down against her face, her tongue.

"Hm, I thought so." She teased, pulling back to breathe hotly against your cunt, your trembling thighs, pressing a harsh bite against the soft flesh. "Maybe I'll get the chance to do even more if I can drag you somewhere... quieter,” She cut herself off by pressing another bite left into your thigh, sure to bruise. “More private. So I can have you like I want you.”

"Why do you wanna do that?" You asked softly, a slight pout to your lips as you reached your fingers into the netting of her wig and tried to pull her in closer. "Whyyyy, Ren?~"

"I think you're cute when you're a little tipsy." She whispered with a teasing grin, pressing another hungry kiss against the front of your panties, her trembling hands on your thighs as they flinched at the action, making you moan. "That's why."

“Ngh, god,” You moaned, biting your lips as your hips shifted forward a little more, your heeled boots doing nothing to support your body as you slid slowly against the cement and the rough brick wall. “Ren, we’re both drunk, we shouldn’t…hah…”

“I don’t care about that, and neither do you.” She chided, almost condescendingly, and it was enough to make you blush (even if she was a lot drunker than you). “I want to have fun with you, you know that." She pressed another hot kiss against your panties, one hand reaching forward to tug at the sodden gusset and tug them to the side of your puffy labia. “And I’m going to have fun…and you’re going to, too, if you play along with me.”

She ran her tongue over the hot slit of your cunt, her golden eyes going hazy at your taste, at the sound of your hungry moan, at the feel of your fingers pushing her wig aside and fist into her hair.

“Yeah, yeah,” You moaned loudly, your head falling backward. “I’ll play along, I will.”

🔨

"Alright, let me just get the door."

Strade's voice was cheerful behind you, cutting through the haze of drunkenness on your mind as she took a set of house keys from a carabiner attached to her belt loop, giving it an idle twirl around her finger before she slotted it into the front door of her house. 

"You'll have to forgive me if the place is a bit of a mess," She mused with a hum, opening the door (and clipping the keys back to her belt) and running a hand through her short brown hair, before placing her hands on her full hips. "I've always been lousy at keeping a house. So much for gender roles, right?

You laughed a little uncomfortably as she gave you a playful nudge in the side with her elbow. She was a little shorter than you, but she still managed to make you nervous, which you're certain you would have been, even if you weren't a little drunk.

"Y-Yeah," You muttered, pushing your hair out of your face with a shaking hand as you followed her inside the house. "Um, do you think I can have some water or something? I'm feeling kind of nauseous."

"Sure thing, buddy." She said with an easy smile and a slight nod of her head. "Go sit down and I'll get you something to drink. Just relax, and I'll take good care of you"

Strade leaves you to it, making her way through the dark house and turning on the kitchen light at your side, still humming to herself, comfortable in the face of your obvious discomfort.

You let out a quiet sigh as you shambled into the living room of the house, noticing, even in the dark, a fairly tidy space, albeit one that had nowhere near the amount of personality that Strade seemed to have. Either way, you didn't let yourself worry too much about it as you sat down on the couch, resting your hands in your lap and letting your head droop down and your hair cover your face again, to stop it from spinning too much. 

You were really drunk. You couldn't remember how much you drank at the bar, but surely, not enough to feel like this.

You sighed again, covering your mouth as you began to feel queasy, a little worried that you might be sick before you reached back to your back pocket to get your phone, to shoot a text to your housemate so she knew you were okay, and maybe call an Uber to pick you up, hiked fare be damned.

Strade had been nice enough to look after you at the bar and take you home, but you really didn't want to be more of a nuisance to her than you already had been. 

She was really way too nice.

"Drink up." 

You flinched at the sound of Strade's voice in the silence of the house, glancing over your shoulder as she paced into the living room with a glass of water for you. You stopped feeling around for your phone when you couldn't immediately find it and gave her an appreciative smile.

"You're looking pretty rough," She teased with a little smirk, passing you the glass and sitting at your side, crossing her legs, a heavy army boot on her knee, and leaning back into the couch, a thick arm almost draping over your shoulder. "If you puke on my carpet, I'm gonna be pretty annoyed."

"I won't puke," You murmured around the rim of the glass after a long swallow of water, giving your head a quick shake, to which she laughed and reached over to pat your back and rub your shoulder. "Um, did you see my phone in your car, by the way? I can't...seem to find it."

"Hm?" She raised a dark brow in your direction before she let out another chuckle, her golden eyes sparkling. "Oh, yeah, you mean this one?"

She took the phone from one of her front pockets, giving it a little wave as she held it up for you to see. The screen was black, which you could only interpret as it being dead.

"Mmhmm, thank you," You nodded, leaning forward to take the phone, and blinking curiously when she held it out of your reach with a teasing chuckle.

"What'll you give me for it?" She asked, her voice taking on a lower, slightly more sultry tone, distinctly different from the bright and cheerful voice you heard in the bar, enough to make you blush and flounder.

"Um...S-Strade, I'm pretty drunk," You said with an uncomfortable chuckle. "It wouldn't be right for us to...do something."

"Mm, you were the one who was thinking it though," She laughed, placing the phone down on her side of the couch, before moving in a little closer and placing a firm hand on your thigh. "Come on. I won't tell if you don't. It can be our little secret, hm?"

You swallowed hard, your eyes flitting down to her hand on your thigh, as her fingers toyed with one of the ladders in your tights and felt your hot skin. 

"I don't...think this is a good idea," You murmured again, holding the glass a little tighter, your hands shaking.

"So don't think," She said. "Just do."

You couldn't hold back a cry as she reached up to tangle her fingers into your hair roughly, pulling your head down to her broad thigh (making you drop your glass in the process) as her other hand reached up to unzip her trousers and wrestle them down her spread legs.

You were too drunk to really fight back as she pulled your head upwards and forced your face against the front of her underwear (she was wearing boxers, to your surprise), and your body was totally slack as she gradually began to buck her hips up against your face, a long groan on her lips as she bit her lips, her eyes open and feral and hungry.

"You know, I said I'd be annoyed if you puked on my carpet," She started, her voice a little more rasped as she reached up to pull at the waistband of her boxers. "But, ah...I guess I wouldn't care too much." She let out a dirty chuckle, as she pulled one leg from her trousers and boxers and raised it high, resting it on the back of the couch, spreading herself out for you. "As long as you cleaned up your mess."

Your mouth went dry as you looked at her, her thick legs spread, her cunt so wet that it was making the dark, matted hair that covered it and her inner thighs shine in the low light of the living room. 

Had she been this turned on when she was just speaking to you at the bar?

Or was it having you in her house, vulnerable, waiting to be taken?

You were too drunk to really consent to any of this, but you wouldn't have gone home with an older woman if you hadn't been hammered. Did the matter of consent really matter that much?

You didn't think so, not now, and clearly, Strade thought the same way.

"Go on," She said, gripping a thicker chunk of your hair and urging your face down to the hot heat of her spread cunt. "Eat my pussy like I know you want to."

You did as you were told, lowering your head to run your tongue over her slit, tasting the thick musk of pre-cum and sweat and hair, and everything.

Strade groaned through her teeth, low at the back of her throat, gripping your hair more tightly as she shifted her hips upwards to feel your tongue even deeper, your nose bumping against her erect clit and giving her a little more stimulation.

"Are you sure you're not a dyke?" She asked with another rough chuckle, as her spread leg hooked around your neck and pulled you closer towards her, tethering you and keeping you still. "Or have you just done this a few times before?"

You groaned softly at the slur, her rough voice and language, and the new tightness around your neck as you managed to run your tongue over the damp hairs of her cunt and circle it towards her clit, wanting to please her and to offer yourself a little relief at the same time.

"I'm gonna keep you here tonight," She crooned, rubbing her fingers against your scalp, bucking her hips against your mouth with such ferocity, that you were almost worried that she might break your nose. "I've got a cock upstairs with your name on it...mm, maybe something else too, I can get as rough as you want, baby."

"Mmph," You moaned, your eyes fluttering as your arousal gradually began to supersede your intoxication, and you grew more desperate for her approval. "S-Strade, please..."

"What's that, fraulein ?" Her voice was a surprisingly seductive purr, her thick accent growing thicker when she used her native language. "You want me to fuck you? You wanna take my strap-on like the good, little dog that I know you are? Is that it?~"

You really should have ordered that Uber.

"Please.”

#lawrence x mc #lawrence x reader #ren x mc #ren x reader #strade x mc #strade x reader #lawrence oleander #lawrence btd #ren hana #ren btd #strade btd #slurs cw #kinktober 2023 #one of the faves

[ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey]

April 1: Smile

Day 1 of April Hinny microfics! @hinnymicrofic

He’s happier this year.

Of course, the bar for such a thing isn’t terribly difficult to clear, given how bloody miserable Harry had been the year before, but still. He is. Happier.

She’d mentioned it to Dean once, in passing, and regretted it immediately. He’d asked her probing questions like what do you mean and why do you mention it and she couldn’t give him proper answers, especially when the question he really wanted the answer to was why did you notice. 

“Forget it,” she had snapped, only he didn’t and neither did she.

He jokes more easily, in the Common Room, at meals, during Quidditch practice. With her. They’d always found the same things funny; she’d clung to that when she was stupid and eleven. 

Now that she’s stupid and fifteen, it clings to her instead. Her eyes seek him out whenever Ron says something ridiculous, when Hermione recommends different colored ink to color-code her notes, when Cormac McLaggen swaggers by. They share a look that asks did you see that and how could I not and she soon realizes that the world is twice as funny with a private audience of two. 

“--you should really finish that essay, Harry, you’re already behind from the hospital wing and–”

“Should I?” Harry says mildly, barely looking up from clipping the twigs off his broomstick. “Snape is in mourning, he won’t have the time to grade essays.”

Hermione gives him an unimpressed sort of look. “In mourning?”

“Yep,” Harry says with a snip of his scissors. “He paid off McLaggen to murder me, he’ll be sulking that I only cracked my skull.”

Ginny snorts into her tea, and Harry meets her eye with a smirk that sends her stomach into an inappropriate freefall. 

Zacharias Smith pays an unwelcome visit to the Gryffindor table at dinner to gloat about Gryffindor’s defeat. Harry clenches his jaw, and Ginny pretends that isn’t the reason that she shouts, “Oi, Smith. Perhaps we can plant McLaggen on the pitch for all of your matches, because maiming the other team is the only way you’ll catch the snitch on your own.”

Smith retorts something stupid, and Ginny rolls her eyes and says, “Go gloat at your own table before I hex you.”

Harry meets her eye and they exchange that little smile, what a git and that was good and his jaw isn’t clenched anymore.

“What a git,” Dean says, and Ginny nods, feeling inexplicably irritated by the comment. She’d already said that, except she hadn’t. Not out loud, and not to him.

Harry catches her eye again across the table, and the corners of his lips twitch, and so do hers.

It’s the first time she feels a sharp stab of guilt. Because she’s stupid and fifteen and he’s happier this year and she knows what he’s thinking without words. 

And when something makes her laugh she doesn’t look for Dean. She looks for a flash of green and a private little smile that says it’s only funny when you think so, too. 

#hinny microfic #hinny #hinnyfluff #word count 506 #canon compliant

[aquagirl1978]

Lightning Crashes - Gilbert von Obsidian (Ikemen Prince)

A/N: Part of the Late Spring Tryst event held by @xxsycamore

Pairing: Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader

Prompt: sex in the rain

Tags: NSFW; Minors - DNI

Rain pelted against your face as you looked up into the dark and dreary sky. What is taking so long? you asked yourself for the umpteenth time as you paced around the courtyard. 

Knowing his proclivity to hide his secrets, you, of course, feared the worst when you woke up earlier to find Gilbert already gone. You had searched every corner of Obsidian Castle – the kitchen, the throne room, even the greenhouse – before marching into Walter’s quarters, demanding to know where he had snuck off to this time.

“He had business to attend to at the border. Something about paying a visit to that Rhodolite prince he so often keeps company with.” Walter told you as he waved you away, suggesting it might be dark before Gilbert returned.

As soon as it grew dark, you became restless and decided to wait for Gilbert in the courtyard. Surely, he would be back soon as the day was nearing its end. Minutes turned to hours, and worry began to settle inside the pit of your stomach.

Lightning flashed through the sky, lighting up the castle before the heavens opened up to the roar of thunder. “Lovely,” you sighed as the first raindrops fell upon your head. 

“Oh, this is useless,” you announced to no one in particular when you suddenly heard the clip-clop sounds of horses’ hooves striking the cobblestone pavement. Wiping your forehead free of your wet bangs, you approached the carriage, waiting for its passenger to exit. 

“This is a pleasant surprise,” Gilbert greeted you as he opened the carriage door, his smile turning to a frown upon seeing you in such a state.

“Where were you?” you asked briskly.

“I was called away by Clavis.” he replied as he stood face to face with you, his demeanor cool like the rainy chill in the air. “But I presume someone already told you that. Or you wouldn’t be standing out here, drenched, like a sad little rabbit.” He tapped his cane on the ground, punctuating his words. 

You stood your ground, glaring daggers at Gilbert. When you didn’t make a move, he laughed.

“Was the little rabbit scared?” He tilted his head in that cute, puppy dog way that almost made you forget why you were mad at him. “You know you have nothing to be scared about.” 

“Nothing to be scared about?” you asked, your voice trembling as you spoke. “I have everything to be scared about.”

The rain poured down your face in streaks as you beat your fists against his chest. Ignoring the chill in your rain-soaked skin, you continued fruitlessly, punching Gilbert until he took your hands in his, ending your assault on him. 

His red eye glittered in the dark grey of the storm, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours, his mouth silencing your cries. His arms wrapped tightly around your body as his tongue probed your lips, seeking entrance into your warm mouth. Your balled fists fell limply to your sides, your body melting into his.

His fingers dug into your back as he pulled your body closer to his, needing the warmth that radiated from your body. He groaned softly as his hips pressed against yours, a faint outline felt despite his layers of clothing. 

Kisses grew eager and needy; his mouth began to wander, his lips seeking your neck. Tilting your head back, your throat exposed, granting him the access he sought, Gilbert fastened his mouth along your pulse point, his teeth sinking into your soft, sweet skin.

Your body shuddered against his, the pain bright and sharp, much like the love you had for one another. Cradling his head in your hand, your fingers twisted through his damp locks as he pressed a soothing kiss upon your fresh mark. He pulled back, his eye locking on yours, his smile soft as he stroked your sensitive skin with his thumb. 

His mouth, now warmed, crashed against yours once more, his hands rough as he lifted you into his arms. Throwing your arms around his neck, you deepened the kiss, inviting his tongue to enter freely. Your eyes drifted closed, his tongue tickling yours, neither of you mindful of the storm raging around you.

Your eyes flew open when your back was pressed against a cold, stone wall.

“I can’t wait,” he whispered between kisses, his words causing your heart to race. 

You pulled back and stared him in the eye, your mouth unable to say the words you wanted to ask. 

“No need to worry, little rabbit. No one will come looking for us out here in the rain.”

He ran a palm down your thigh and under your skirt, sending shivers up your spine. Arching your back, you let out a soft sigh as his fingers teased your most sensitive spot. Sliding a finger inside, your core flooded with warmth as he began to stroke you. 

Your hips pressed against Gilbert’s, the firm outline in his pants, now more prominent. Your head dizzy with pleasure, your hand fell from his shoulder to his waist, your fingers trailing the line of his belt. Slipping a hand inside, you enjoyed the soft sounds Gilbert made as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft. 

With passion burning bright in his eye, Gilbert removed his hand from between your legs, leaving you whimpering for his touch. Guiding one leg around his waist and then the other, he pushed the layers of your skirt out of the way and then proceeded to free his erection.

The moment his tip touched your slit, your body quivered with anticipation. Gilbert held your gaze as he pushed inside, his eye on you and only you as he stretched you, filling you, until he was fully sheathed inside. 

Your legs squeezed his hips when you were ready; burying your face in the crook of his shoulders, you dug your nails into the thick fabric of his damp cloak as he began to thrust inside you. 

Warmth filled your body as Gilbert ravished you, leaving you grateful for the cool chill of the rain on your heated skin. Gasping for air, Gilbert pushed his body tighter against yours, pressing you harder against the cold stone wall of the castle. 

With a loud groan, Gilbert sunk into your body, spilling his seed inside you as your shared pleasure took over.

Breathless and boneless, your head fell back, exposing your bare neck for Gilbert to leave one final love bite. Collecting you in his arms, he smoothed your skirts as he carried you back to his room, your body pressed tight against his chest under the cover of night, free from any watchful eyes.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesroseforclavis @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @ikehoe @ikemen-writer @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @altairring @lucyw260 @lordsisterxotome @violettduchess @umi-adxhira @bellerose-arcana @yarnnerdally @crypticbibliophile @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @melodiousramblings @wendolrea @aceuuuu @randonauticrap @aria-chikage

#late spring tryst ccc #ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert #ikemen gilbert #ikemen fanfic #ikepri fanfic #otome #otome games #otome fanfic

[wepsi]

Are you trying to entice me dear?-Barbatos(smut)

(Not my art! Go follow @ alyss_why on Instagram!)

Female reader

Cw: fingering, tail

Scenario: What started out as a innocent punishment of having Barbatos serve you all day, turned out to be the greatest reward.

Barbatos was usually a very calm and reserved demon, but he could never back down from a competition. Unlucky for him it was a scaring contest and Mammon was playing dirty with a rat. The loser had to obey the winners wishes for the whole day, and lucky for you , you won! But maybe this wasn't all a coincidence, you've been eyeing up the butler for a while now. Asmo was the one who noticed how head over heels you were, and gathered everyone to orchestrate the whole thing.

Not wasting the chance, all day you do seemingly normal things like shopping and baking, but trying to give him flirting touches and glances. Despite your efforts it seemed futile, Barbatos was cool as a cucumber and professional as ever. Getting desperate that the day was ending, you scheme up something bold.

"Barbatossssssss could you draw me a bath please, I want to relax after this long day."

"Absolutely master."

You close the bathroom door but didn't lock it. stripping yourself naked and step into the water, it was perfect temperature water how did he even do that? Trying to put on your sexiest pose, you yell for Barbatos, putting a hint of worry in your tone as if you were in trouble. Barbatos rushes in the bathroom thinking that you might be hurt, just to see you in a silly pose.

"Will you help bathe me Barbatos? The punishment is you have to do all of my request."

"Y.Yes master"

Barbatos looked a little shocked for a second, then come over to you with a smirk. Taking off his gloves and rolling up his sleeves (which was so hot) kneeling down next to the tub, he dips his hands into the water.

"Do you have a sponge or a towel master?"

"Oh I don't, that's too bad you're going to have to use your hands."

"Are you trying to entice me dear?"

Instead of answering, you grab onto the edges of the tub to lean in and give him a kiss on the lips as a yes. He grabs onto your body wash to lather his hands, and start washing you. He surprisingly starts with your neck, which felt really gentle and sweet. He washes your arms rubbing both his hands around them. Then he washes your stomach, back and legs. Growing disappointed at him avoiding all your intimate parts, you grab onto his wrist and put his hands square on your breasts.

"Ansty aren't we?"

He grabs onto your chest and squeezes, earning a eep from you. His touch still gentle but it felt, different... He lathers the soap all over your chest, and slightly pulling on your nipples. He had the same calm smile but there was a sinister vibe to it. Seeing how much you wanted him, he finally travels his hand down to your sex. He plunges his hand in the water, feeling up your thigh and ending up at your folds.

He runs his hands up and down your folds, while inching his face closer to yours. He massages the hood on your clit, before pulling it back to stimulate it directly. Whimpering against his hand, you needyly grind on him, wanting more. His hands move back to your chest, making you whine at the lost of pleasure. Do not worry, because you see Barbatos antlers start growing from his head, and you feel his tail slithering into the tub.

You lean forward once more, trying to kiss him again just for him to tsk you away. Wanting to get a full view of your face as he enters his tail in you. His tail slithers in, and enters into your needy hole. Though it wasn't thick it was so long, easily probing your womb, the scale also adds extra texture. He precisely uses his tail to hit all the right spots in you, and just when you think it can't feel any better, the other tip of his tail delicately circulating your clip.

He finally accepts your lips, gently sucking on it and your tongue that you keep trying to push down his throat. He chuckles and find it cute how thirsty you were despite being surrounded by water. You open your eyes slightly to see him just to find his emerald eyes staring back at you, closing your eyes out of shyness you try focusing more on the way he is pleasing you.

You hear the water slightly swishing from his tail, and your building moans into his mouth, you really wanted to hear his moans too. His hands were massaging your breasts, occasionally rolling your hard buds in his fingers and pulling them. His tail steadily plunging into you, and the other one teasing you from the outside. The pleasure now slightly overwhelming it was hard to stay up and maintain the kiss, the first time you pull away Barbatos forcefully grips your chin and pull you back on his lips.

Just when you were about to climax, all the activity stopped. Barbatos pulls away from a very confused looking you. He calmly rinses you off, and drain the bath water. Helping you up and out, and pats you down with a towel as if nothing happened.

"Why did you stop? Keep going Barbatos!"

"I cannot comply with that order master, because I am going to please you to the best of my ability."

He finishes drying you, and picks you up princess style buck naked, to walk back into his room. With you clinging onto him blushing like mad hoping no one else is around.

to be continued...

..............................................................................................................................

Check out my master list for more content!

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#obeyme #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #obey me barbatos #barbatos om #barbatos smut #shall we date barbatos #obey me kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #smut #obey me barbatos smut

[skylarkking]

To Heal a Mockingbird

A TFA Ratchet x Mech!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Chapter 2: Clipped Wings

The fight did not go well for me, and now I lay on the floor of the Nemesis leaking and broken.

But they were not done with me yet. Megatron was not done with me yet.

"Please...." I rasped weakly as I tried to push myself up from the pool of energon that had gathered underneath. Lugnut forced me back down with his heavy pede, pinning me in place and forcing a yelp of pain from my voicebox.

"What should we do with him now?" Starscream sneered. "Take him offline?"

"No, that would be too merciful." Megatron snarled. He knelt down and forced me to look at him by grabbing my neck cables and giving them a hard pull. "I believe it's time to see if a seeker can fly. Without. Their. Wings."

"NO PLEASE!" I begged pitifully. "PLEASE! PLEASE NO! NO! GAH!" My cries would go unheard as Megatron gripped my wings and ripped them clean off. I shrieked in agony as energon sprayed from my back in an arc of color, the metal of my now dismembered appendage clattering to the floor next to my body.

"Throw him and these off my ship." Megatron ordered Lugnut.

"Please...." I whispered weakly, the thudding of my spark slowing more and more as Lugnut picked up my frame and wings. He carried me to the edge of the shuttle bay that I had used to free the medic, and with one fell swoop, I was tossed out of the ship.

I plummeted to the ground far below, my optics flickering offline as my systems shut down. The air roared past my audials as the ground rapidly approached. I was doomed, or so I thought.

Suddenly, my frame and severed wings were encased in an electromagnetic field, stopping my rapid descent to the ground.

"I got ya, kid!" I heard the familiar voice of Ratchet call from below. I was far too weak to respond as he lowered me down with a gentle thud.

The medic wasn't alone, however.

"Ratchet, is this the Decepticon that freed you?" Another voice said. I cracked open my optics just enough to see a few other bots surrounding my frame, one I recognized as Ratchet and the other a towering mech with a navy blue paint job and a massive warhammer, the Magnus hammer to be exact.

"Yeah, that's Y/D." Ratchet said as he quickly went to my side and hooked up a diagnostic probe to me. "Dammit... sir, his spark is going to go out if we don't get him out of here."

"No..." I rasped as I shakily gripped the medic's arm. "Let... let me die..."

"I ain't in the business of killing kid. You of all bots should know that." Ratchet said. "Just relax, okay? I'm gonna put you in stasis and get you out of here."

I felt a slight shock, and my entire frame went limp as stasis took over. I could still hear everything that was happening, but I couldn't move anything or feel much.

"Sir, I have to strongly object to this!" A voice from what I assume was one of the other bots protested. "We don't know what this... this Decepticon is capable of!"

"Not much right now, Pharma." Ratchet huffed in annoyance. "He's barely able to stay online. We need to get him a medivac if we are to save his life."

"I shall call it in." Ultra Magnus said.

"Sir, this is insane!" The bot called Pharma continued to protest. "We shouldn't be helping him!"

"He saved my life Pharma," Ratchet snapped. "Now I'm going to save his!"

"Sir!"

"That's enough Pharma." Ultra Magnus said. "He may information regarding Megatron's plans."

"What makes you think he'd talk?" Pharma asked. "These Decepticons are loyal to the core!"

"If that were true, I'd be dead." Ratchet growled. "Now please, I need some quiet in order to get him stable enough for transport."

I felt slight pricks of pain and heard the sound of a welder going, the crackling hiss it made seeming to act almost as a barrier of sound from the outside world. Bit as soon as it began, it ended, and I felt my frame get lifted up by 4 sets of servos and then get places on a cold flat surface. The cool metal beneath me was soothing, and I found myself slipping deeper and deeper into stasis, and I remembered nothing more.

---

"Cmon kid." I heard Ratchet's voice say from somewhere in the darkness of my stasis. "I know you can hear me."

"R.... Rat... Ratchet?" I croaked weakly, my optics coming online and slowly opening to a bright light.

"That's it, follow the light." He said, which wasn't exactly the best thing for someone to hear. I ended up jumping in surprise and accidently whacking the light away in a panic. "Hey! I needed that!"

"S-sorry." I groaned as my optics adjusted to the light, revealing that I was in a recovery bay hooked up to an energon line and sparkrate monitor. I felt pressure on my back and could feel that my once severed wings were now secured in place with thick bandaging, no doubt in an attempt to allow my internal repairs to do their work.

"It's alright, Y/D." Ratchet said. "Just glad you're functioning is all."

"What.... what happened?"

"We were about to ask you the same question." The voice of Ultra Magnus said, my gaze shifting over to him and my frame stiffening with anxiety. I eyed him suspiciously, unsure of what his motives were or why he was here.

"Puh, like you actually care." I grumbled in annoyance.

"Kid, don't be like that." Ratchet said.

"Look, no offense, but your Magnus here doesn't exactly have a good track record for mercy." I said as I shot the Magnus a glare.

"Neither does Megatron." Ultra Magnus said.

"You think I don't know that?" I laughed sarcastically. "He's the one who beat me to scrap and ripped my wings off." I paused and then let out a somewhat defeated sigh. "Look, I don't know what you want with me or why you saved me, but you should have left me to die out there. It would have given you one less Decepticon to worry about."

"And one less healer for either side." Ratchet said. "Wouldn't that have violated your own moral of not harming medics?"

"Hrmph." I huffed, not bothering to answer the question because I knew he was right.

"Y/D, I'm going to offer you a chance that I strongly urge you to take." Ultra Magnus said. "In exchange for your freedom and all charges dropped, we need you to tell us what you know of what Megatron plans to do with the Allspark."

"I.... I can't."

------

Previous Chapter: Here

Next Chapter: Here

#transformers #art #drawing #transformers animated #tfa #tfa fanfic #tf fanfic #transformers fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #male reader

[simplifiedemotions]

Neptune

It starts with them sharing Astronomy together. 

The girl and the boy share a discomfiting glance. There is so much to unpack with the war over and only the space of a double-sided desk between them. 

Their assignment is to create a star chart that corresponds with ancient magical rituals to see where power pockets occur at the highest frequencies.

It’s quickly determined that Neptune’s orbit is best suited to break the veil between worlds. The girl tries not to show her surprise at the boy’s competence, but she’s never been well-versed in subtlety because he realises what her wide-eyed look means and glares at her for the entirety of their first lecture and all through dinner.

The girl does what she’s always done when faced with conflict: she scrutinises. She tells the boy facts about the planet and its cross-relations to the Muggle world, probing for conversation but also for what he might think. 

Muggle-born, oh what a terrible affair, but she needs to know if she can move on from the ways of his youth.

The boy doesn’t know how to react. He is used to carrying jeers and insults in his pockets, but now he holds nothing but his shame stoked in silence. 

Still, that does not stop the acid-tipped quips that eventually escape his mouth.

It takes weeks for them to exchange more than barely cordial nods and clipped smiles after that. 

It’s an accident that breaks the ice. To create the fissure that will grow and grow until there is only a lake warmed by the rising sun. 

The boy is balancing on a stool, muttering angrily to himself as he tries to position their vivid blue model of Neptune on a multi-striated disc. They need to measure the gravitational pull without using magic, and so he stands on a rickety stool, barking at the girl when she offers to hold him still that he doesn’t need her help.

The boy’s self-loathing floats on the ice of Neptune, and he thinks he needs to remain ice to keep his guard unbreakable. 

It is the only thing he has left.

The boy over-reaches, just barely placing the Neptune model on the disc before the legs of the tiny stool betray a telltale crack, and the boy tips forward, arms flailing as he falls towards the ground.

He would have fallen and broken at least his nose, if not for the girl’s quick thinking. She conjures a nest of pillows for the boy to fall in, air leaving her lungs in a gasp when she hears the sound of impact and his muffled groan. 

After some colourful cursing, he rises. He blinks at the image before him, unsure if he is imagining the way all the pillows before him are shaped like pristine white ferrets.   

The girl lets out a surprised laugh. She covers her mouth with a hand, but peals of laughter still escape the spaces between her fingers.

The boy narrows his eyes, and demands why the girl conjured this, of all things. She explains, blushing a fiery-red, that she was thinking about ferrets whilst he stretched his neck towards the striated disc.

The boy blinks again. Wonders if he should be offended. He decides he almost is, before the girl starts laughing again. Freckles dust her scrunched up nose as she gives him a straight-white smile. He forgets what he was supposed to be mad about after that.

It is the first of many times to come, that the girl experiences the warmth of his regard, when he gives her a hesitant smile in return. 

Neptune has the second largest gravity of any planet. The boy and the girl experiment with gravitational bouncing, and when their bodies move in the air in the dusty classroom, even the boy can’t help but laugh in elation.

The boy touches ground first, but the girl is more clumsy, and she almost falls on her backside before the boy grabs her by the waist and pulls her to him.

They stare at each other. There is so much—too much—sensation in this accidental touch. There are hands and bare skin and flushing cheeks. There is the vulnerability of meeting your enemies eyes and realising you don’t consider them an enemy anymore.

They jump away from each other.

It’s several weeks later, weeks filled with prickings of feelings and misunderstandings dressed up in late teenage angst, when they create a mass of storms around their model of Neptune. 

The swirl of mercurial grey reminds the girl of the boy’s eyes; there is a brimming tempest behind his calm demeanour.

The climate on Neptune is known to be extremely active. As the boy and the girl finish charming their model to rain thunder and blow gusts of wind, they too are swept away by a current of will.

They have been dancing for weeks around each other. Like the fourteen moons on Neptune, the boy and the girl orbit each other’s lives. 

Closer and closer. An inevitable turn and twist. 

The gentle assault of the boy’s kiss meets the fiery battle of the girl’s will, and together they crash into each other like supernovae.

The boy’s smile stitches more of her together; the girl’s forgiveness makes him more whole. 

Through the prism of their senses, there is something soft and yearning; there is a beginning waiting to take shape.

The locus of the boy’s identity morphs. There is still the lineage of Malfoy, and the actions of Draco, but there is also something else, something lighter and more hopeful.

The clever girl, charged with saving the world, learns that she can also choose things for herself. 

Namely, the boy with the surprisingly tender smile. 

Their beginning, under a starry sky, reflected in Neptune’s view and its many moons, as they kiss and kiss, and dream of the after.

#dramione #Dramione fanfic #dhr #dhr fanfiction #Hermione Granger #Draco Malfoy #my writing

[tarisilmarwen]

Rebels Rewatch: "Imperial Supercommandos"

AKA the episode that dragged me into the Sabezra hellspiral and sunk me for them good. XD

Just gonna go ahead and preemptively apologize for how obnoxious a shipper I'm probably going to be in this one, can't help it, I already liked them before this episode but then they showed all the canyon chase clips at Celebration and my brain went, "Battle Couple!" and it was aaaaaaaallllll downhill from there, lol.

Something interesting that @seleneisrising pointed out is that Sabine is attempting diplomacy with Rau, with her repeated visits to him to play cubikahd and talk. She's let go of whatever desire for revenge she might have had against him back in "The Protector Of Concord Dawn" and is now following Kanan's example in trying to persuade him to the cause through mutual respect.

Which Fenn Rau doesn't seem to want to give her just yet lol.

Zeb calls both of them to the briefing room, whereupon it's revealed that the Rebels had been in regular contact with the Protectors but they've suddenly now gone silent. Rau insists they wouldn't go against his orders to harm the Rebels and Sabine volunteers to check things out. Hera makes her take Ezra and Chopper along with.

I maybe question the wisdom of letting two teenagers and a droid babysit a full-grown adult prisoner lol but I'll be charitable and say it speaks to Hera's confident level of trust in them.

...Though she does get in a jab about not wrecking the new Phantom II. (Which does look pretty spiffy, the roof fin shaved down, splashed with the Rebellion orange, red, and yellow. Sabine's added a stylized tibedee it looks like, for a logo.)

Ezra gets this quietly guilty look at Hera's comment, ouch.

Ezra awkwardly whistling as Fenn Rau stares at him is adorable and hilarious. Just the whole cutting back and forth between their faces makes me lol.

Ezra wanders off from keeping firm eyes on Rau and that's all the distraction he needs to incapacitate both kids and free himself. Whoops.

(Sabine would later make the mistake of letting Rau be the one to secure the Phantom II, which he promptly tries to take off with, so you know, at least she and Ezra are even. XD)

Chopper saw an opportunity to be a menace and took it lol.

Ezra's immediate worry and concern when he sees Sabine unconscious next to him. <3333

(Also, Rau, what exactly did you think handcuffing them together would accomplish? Did you forget about their droid? You forgot about their droid didn't you?)

Trying to reserve most of my limited photos for the canyon chase but couldn't resist this pretty cap. I love the soft lavender lighting Concord Dawn at twilight has. Last time we were here it was full night, eeking into dawn.

Gah, Rau just stands there, almost comatose. Shoulders slumped, doesn't even react when Ezra retrieves his blaster. We already know that something terrible has happened.

Aaaaaand yep, everybody dead. Once again the Y-7 rating is the only thing preventing us from seeing bodies piled everywhere.

"Why would Mandalorians attack Mandalorians?" HA HA HA THAT'S A WHOLE ASS CAN OF WORMS, EZRA. He's so innocent. I love him.

It's because Mandalorians be craaaaaaaaazyyyyyyyyyy.

Rau turns on Sabine to blame her and the Rebel Alliance for what happened to his men and because I've watched this episode probably dozens of times I'm actually focusing on the background starry sky.

My gosh that's gorgeous.

The Supercommandos arriving within minutes of the Imperial probe's signal makes me think they were actually hanging around, waiting to see if Fenn Rau or the Rebels or someone would come back and check. Probably why Saxon was so unamused with Ezra's lying later.

"Flying Stormtroopers?!" Man this would have been the perfect spot to put that dumb, "They fly now?!" joke from Rise of Skywalker C'MON IT'S BETTER TONALLY MATCHED AND IT MAKES MORE SENSE COMING FROM EZRA.

They can't quite escape the compound before the Supercommandos are combing through it so Saxon almost stumbles across Sabine's hiding place. Leading to one of my (many) favorite bits:

No hesitation, less than a second between moving into frame and firing at Saxon to lure him away, first impulse and base instinct to protect Sabine. <3

It gets him captured, naturally.

(A brief moment to say an RIP to Ray Stevenson, who voiced Gar Saxon in addition to playing Baylan Skoll in the upcoming Ahsoka show. He did such a fantastic job with Saxon, made him a very intimidating presence. Godspeed, sir.)

Sabine's first instinct is also to go after Ezra, but Fenn Rau urges her away. It takes her a long moment to move and even when we cut back to her walking behind Rau her body posture is clearly reluctant; she stops dead and gestures behind all, "Come on we gotta." Even when he points out that it's to her advantage that they don't know she's there she brings up that he's still got Ezra's lightsaber--drawing attention to the fact that he's weaponless in enemy hands. Rau argues back that not knowing he's a Jedi will buy Ezra some time for them to observe.

This is what finally gets Sabine moving, though she still pays a glance back.

Ezra apparently decides on being as annoyingly cheerful as possible to bluff his way through this interrogation, lol.

E: "What? Me a Rebel? *offended gasp* I could never!"

He's so cute. ^_^

Like I said before, though, Saxon doesn't buy it and moves right into "threaten your friends to make you talk" mode, aiming at Chopper.

Meanwhile up on the mesa Sabine takes offense to Rau calling Ezra "a pawn meant to be sacrificed [sic]". She's staying very calm in the face of Rau's frankly unnecessary pissiness, good for her.

Saxon taking a couple potshots at Chopper seems to rattle Ezra's composure here a little bit, he's not quite as confident-sounding as he was before here when he spins his second story.

Very slightly starting to panic and worry I think.

Heeeeeey Chekhov's Gun!

HEY, EXCUSE YOU. RUDE.

Leave my son alone you asshole.

Saxon's monologuing about how he totally wanted to murder the Protectors anyway is the reveal that convinces Rau to help Sabine... sort of.

Meanwhile Saxon continues to get rougher with Ezra. This makes the whump gremlin in my brain very happy. :D

Sabine's so excited to finally get a jetpack, aww.

We spend maybe a little longer on the fight between Fenn Rau and this random Supercommando than I would have but it does firmly establish how skilled they are and how much of a threat they pose so I guess there's that.

Oh man they showed the hard cut between Rau punching out the Supercommando and Saxon slamming Ezra into the floor in the early Season Three trailers and I distinctly remember thinking, "WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY SON?!"

Saxon making good on his threat to shoot Chopper forces Ezra to use the Force to throw off the aim, accidentally revealing himself to Saxon.

It's okay though because Sabine is here! :D

THUS BEGINS THE BATTLE COUPLE PORTION OF THE EPISODE. <3333

It's a little bit hilarious how closely this scene mirrors the first confrontation with Ketsu back in Season Two. We also get way better backstory details.

Lol Ezra's little smile when Sabine shades the Supercommando armor by saying she likes more color.

The Chekhov's Gun gets fired!

IF NO SUPPOSED TO SHIP LITERALLY WHAT EVEN IS THIS? LOL.

Ezra seems awfully surprised by her move, kind of taken aback at the... ahem... intimacy of it. He obediently clings to her when she tells him to hang on, though.

And then this:

...Come on.

Y'all had to know how that would look, right? Right? Which animator was like: "I'm going to have Ezra curling his leg around Sabine here! :D" You're not in trouble, I just wanna talk.

Beyond the obvious my-ship-is-in-very-close-proximity-and-being-Battle-Couple, this setpiece is just really well done. The fast tracking shots give a dynamic sense of movement, the music is frenetic and exciting, Ezra and Sabine work smoothly together to down three-quarters of the squad, even with Ezra's abilities limited by having to hang on to Sabine. If you watch close you see all sorts of fun little subtle details: Sabine gripping Ezra's hand tighter with both of hers, the splashes as Ezra's feet skim the water at the bottom of the gorge...

Also love Ezra's needlessly dramatic yelling Sabine's name when one of Saxon's shots dislodges him from her grip. XD

She reaching back tho.

Curse this photo limit I really want to just post a million caps of the pretty scenery because seriously.

Eeeeyyyy Main Titles theme used for a Big Damn Heroes moment with a ship, we haven't had that in a while. Glad you grew a conscience, Rau.

SABINE SAYS THE CURSED LINE AND GETS IMMEDIATELY TACKLED OUT OF THE AIR BY SAXON. You guys have got to stop promising to be right behind.

Needlessly dramatic yelling of Sabine's name moment number 2, lol.

This is ah... Uncomfy.

Did not feel sorry for him at all when Sabine busted his chops.

<333333

Rau confesses that Sabine's loyalty to Ezra is actually kinda rad and it's what convinced him she's a true Mandalorian.

Ezra's sentiments are still, "You guys are all nuts." lol. And aww this soft look Sabine gives him is just so sweet.

And... that's a wrap! This episode is not filler it's important to the wider Mando arc that centers around Sabine, also Ezra gets to be very cute and in distress, also he and Sabine spend a lot of time this episode being badasses together while Sabine holds him around the hips and waist, also I love it shut up.

It's also super pretty, I'mma have to make a separate post just appreciating all the gorgeous shots.

The conventions heavily spoiled this episode by releasing a LOT of clips before it aired, a mistake they'd later rectify by being stingier with their preview footage. I still enjoyed it though, it's one of my favorites. For obvious reasons, lol.

#star wars #star wars rebels #ezra bridger #sabezra #rebels rewatch #liveblog #cute boys in peril

[siennaditbot]

Just finished watching all of Kim Possible for the first time ever (and in English) and man, it's such a great show.

I did watch it as a kid whenever it aired in Finnish. (I miss those fun school mornings...) The dub was ok as well, though I won't go back to that again. Did check for some clips and I'm glad I was able to watch it back then, but CCR and Will Friedle are so good. The others are too, ofc.

Anyway, back then it was all tainted by my own feelings, cuz I too had a guy childhood best friend I had feelings for. I saw him and myself in them and wanted the same yadda yadda yadda. Well, stuff happened and we haven't talked in at least a year. No big, pfft.

At least this time I got to enjoy this show without them stupid feelings affecting my experience lol. (Except with the So the Drama "a loop has been formed and I'm not in it" and all the Ron feelings about Kim finding someone else. Ugh, been there.)

Anyway, binge watching gave me a completely new experience. Not much shipping related stuff in the first 2 seasons, though there were some I giggled over and replayed to analyze. Mostly just best friends being best friends. No significant awkwardness.

Seasons 3 and 4 though? GAHH. So much ship teasing. Emotion Sickness is my absolute fav episode with Kim getting a device that controls emotions and makes her fall in love with Ron, and the guy's so confused but also so so lovestruck. (He didn't know abt the device at first btw)

I love all those soff little Ron moments, I keep replaying them over and over.

"It (them dating) could happen!"

"It's not that I haven't thought about it, I mean who hasn't?"

"What's not to like about Kim? She's smart and cute..."

"Something's different now. I mean there's something between us... Who am I kidding, that's not different. There's been something there for a long time. I think there's something there. Does she?"

Gahhh I love soff Ron so much.

Also yes I am the type to rewatch all the soft and kissy scenes over and over, there are others too since compilation videos exist!!

Anyway, just realized how most of their kisses are initiated by Kim, but my favourites? (Lol that feels cringe to say. Fav kisses? Pfft) Either both going in or initiated by Ron! (The Emotion Sickness one is great too, Ron's so love struck!!! Adorable.)

-> So the Drama dance scene (THEY'RE SO SOFF GO LOOK AT THEIR FACES), one where they run into each other's arms, and the final one where Ron places his hands on her face and goes in first.

I never knew how much I wanted to do a forehead touch->kiss or have someone hold my face like that.

Also S1 EP1 Ron voice superiority. So low and cute. That makes me swoon. Gahhhh. Rewatched the first few minutes and DANG I WISH HE KEPT THAT VOICE. I'm barely able to form a sentence rn. Gahh.

Also adore all the denial scenes, Kim's too. Girl's so jealous of Yori. "Awk-weird" to bring your best friend as a kinda date to an event? Oh yeah, feed me. I love the awkward pre-dating stage so much that I'm mad my Sonic fic doesn't have more of it lol.

All the tiny nods to stuff changing during season 3? Ron going "She's not my girlfriend!!" to Shego of all people, all of a sudden and without probing, just cuz she asked where Kim was! I love him.

Also, the theme song is banger. Also also, I set the communicator beep-beep-be-beep as my notif sound. Kinda confusing while watching, though, heh.

Was that all? I think so, maybe. I'm pretty sure no one will read this but hey, what is Tumblr for if not stuff like this. Yay for fictional men and couples!

As a final note, I don't think Ron's an absolute swoon worthy guy (barely feel compelled to draw him), I just appreciate guys being soft. Yes, go talk about your feelings and yes, stutter your way to victory!

Anyway, now I'm done.

I'mma throw some gifs under the cut though.

JUST LOOK AT THEM AND THEIR SOFF FACES AND EYES AAAAAAAAAAA

#kim possible #ron stoppable #kim x ron #kim possible x ron stoppable #kimron #SDB rambles #might be my cringiest and worst rambles yes #but that's what the world has to deal with after giving me stuff like this #ok now bye my pizza's gettin cold #long post #kinda #all time otp #no question abt that

[heavens-moonlight]

𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 𝟩 | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 𝟫

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐀 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝟖𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 🫣 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ‘𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬’ 𝐚𝐧𝐝 ‘𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭’ 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰 ‘𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱’ 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞! 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐈'𝐦 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐮-𝐇𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞? 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐳𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠?♡

You can’t wipe the smile off your face after Su-Hyeok’s confession, your features permanently settled into perpetual bliss even as he joins the rest of the group and you head over toward Nam-Ra. Without fail, Su-Hyeok makes it his mission to catch your eye across the room, and every time he does, his face will just split into the biggest grin he can manage. To you, it’s the most adorable thing ever, the sight crinkling your eyes into crescents, like half-moons have risen above your cheeks as you shy away endearingly.

Nam-Ra doesn’t see you approaching, much too spaced out until you make your presence known as you kneel down and remove her hand still tied to the leg chair she was sitting on. “Are you guaranteed that’s safe for you to do?” She surveys you inquisitively, unsure.

“You’re my friend, above all things. I don’t see you as anything—anyone—else other than Nam-Ra.” Not allowing her a chance to list reasons as to why you shouldn’t be within proximal distance, you wrap your arms around her in a firm embrace, which she naturally returns, welcoming and heartfelt.

“How are you not fearful?” she probes, hugging you tighter.

“You’ve certainly not given me cause to, so unless you do, nothing has changed.” You pull away and jut out the camera cradled in your palm toward her.

Nam-Ra takes it gingerly, gazing up and down between the device and you. “What’s this for?”

You switch it on and curl her fingers around it. “We’ve all recorded video messages for loved ones.” When she still stares, indifferently, you elaborate. “It can be a diary in a way, for whoever might find these clips when we leave here. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

“No,” Nam-Ra responds, “I want to.” She raises the camera up high to capture her face properly. “Hi, Mom. Remember when I told you about the only friend I made and you didn’t believe me?” The camera points toward you, and you bow, albeit virtually, for propriety’s sake. “This is her.” Nam-Ra shifts the camera back on herself, beaming faintly. “She’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had the pleasure of gaining, and I’m glad we met. You were right all along about me needing to be more outgoing and open to others, because if I knew just how many good friendships I missed out on all this while, I’d give anything for the chance go back and have a do-over. I hope to see you soon, and you can tell me ‘I told you so’ as much as your heart desires, okay, Mom?”

Not a second has passed since Nam-Ra turns off the device before her head swivels toward the door, her body following soon after, the red fabric still dangling from her wrist. You trail behind and wrap it around her wrist tightly, tying it off so it doesn’t get in her way.

“I overheard something odd.” Nam-Ra stands stagnant facing the door, and at the sound of her voice, everyone follows suit. Being the closest one, you strain your ears to make out what Nam-Ra is alluding to.

“What if she’s turning?” an unsettled Hyo-Ryung murmurs to On-Jo, indicating at Nam-Ra’s arm that’s now free from any sort of bind.

“I thought hambies didn’t morph?” Dae-Su speaks lowly into Hyo-Ryung’s ear, triggering her to shiver and jerkily lean away. How she didn’t notice his loud breathing next to her is beyond your comprehension.

“You scared me!” Hyo-Ryung pushes Dae-Su’s face the other way, the sound of contact between her hand and his chubby cheek making a loud plop, and you wonder how you missed out on such a comedic duo all this time.

“My bad,” Dae-Su apologizes, almost reflexively, still much too close.

“She’s alright,” you confirm resolutely, seeing On-Jo, Hyo-Ryung, and Dae-Su stare back at you like meerkats. “I’ll keep watch over her, don’t worry. I’m not scared.”

“I hear it,” Nam-Ra states softly, leaning forward even further.

You stand next to her, pressing your ear to the entrance. “It?”

She doesn’t answer for awhile, opting to gawk straight at the door, almost as if her vision can pierce through it entirely.

“What do you hear?” Curious, On-Jo ambles up beside you, being as quiet as possible, hoping to figure out the elusive sound.

Nam-Ra scrunches her eyebrows together, fixated. “Someone is puking, but they’ve long since stopped.”

You eye her in alarm. “Puking? You can hear someone vomiting all the way from here? Does that mean there’s still survivors aside from us?”

“Stop that,” Hyo-Ryung pleads. “You’re scaring me, Prez.”

“None of you guys hear it?” Nam-Ra glances in succession at all the faces looking back at her, serious in manner. “It’s so loud and clear…” she trails off.

Hyo-Ryung trembles as Nam-Ra sets her intense gaze on her. “What are you talking about?” The stare continues without letting up, only causing Hyo-Ryung to become exponentially startled. “What is it?”

“Are you…perhaps…nervous?” Nam-Ra takes a tiny step forward and Hyo-Ryung retreats, practically hiding behind Dae-Su.

“What’s wrong with you? Wh-Why are you like this suddenly?” Hyo-Ryung squeaks out, stammering.

“It’s just that out of everyone, you’re breathing the loudest.”

You grab Nam-Ra’s hand and she shakes herself out of whatever trance she was in. “I think the possibility is high that you have a mutated version of the virus, Nam-Ra. That would account for your heightened senses, despite still appearing normal.”

“Mutated?” On-Jo questions.

“Yeah,” you reply, “sometimes changing the nature of its mechanism can prove to be advantageous for viruses, but other times it can also end up with disadvantages. It all comes down to how the host—otherwise known as the living thing it infects—reacts as a consequence.”

“Well then, for our own good, I hope whatever variant I have is harmless around you guys and harmful against these creatures,” Nam-Ra decides. She winces momentarily, placing one palm against her ear as if that will stop external stimuli.

You squeeze her hand. "Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that."

When she can open her eyes once more, she turns your way, and nods, zeroing in on your pulse. “You have a strong and steady heartbeat.” Nam-Ra looks up, studying your face. “You’re really not afraid of me, just as you said.” There’s tender amazement in her tone, almost in disbelief at how your reaction is a stark contrast to everyone else’s.

“I think I’m desensitized by now,” you joke lightly, and she cracks a small smile.

“Even so,” Nam-Ra whispers out, “let’s get out of here. For some reason, this place feels strange; it gives me the creeps.”

“I’ll vote for the hambie intuition.” Dae-Su raises his hand, but seeing as no one else is doing the same, he awkwardly lowers it after Hyo-Ryung elbows him in the stomach.

“Cut it out, will you? That term isn’t going to catch on any time soon.”

“Not with that attitude it’s not,” Dae-Su childishly retorts.

“We can’t just leave,” Cheong-San addresses the room. “Even if we wanted to, this whole area is sprawling with zombies. It’s near impossible unless we want to jump into a suicide mission.”

Dae-Su huffs and throws himself down into a chair, whining. “We should’ve gone to the rooftop while we still had a chance earlier. Damn it, the music was a good cover for our escape too.”

“Music…” On-Jo undertones, more to herself at first. “Wait, that’s it! Dae-Su, you might just be on to something!”

“I am? Well, that’s a first,” Dae-Su jests, before On-Jo’s words catch up to him and be scratches his head in confusion. “What is it exactly that I’m on about?”

“We have music.” On-Jo starts looking around, not yet expanding on her train of thought.

“Music…where?” Dae-Su trails her movements as On-Jo goes to grab the camcorder Nam-Ra left on a tabletop earlier.

“This,” On-Jo holds up the device while speaking, “can be used to lure the zombies in with music.” She gestures around the room vaguely. “We’ll build a tall barricade in here, and take advantage of the fact that we’re in the music room. If we leave the door ajar, the undead will be drawn to the sound and flock in. Then, when the hallway empties, the back door will be our escape.”

“So,” Cheong-San begins, before proceeding to summarize On-Jo’s outlined plan, “you’re saying we should stack desk, chairs, and whatnot smack dab in the middle, open the door, and then run out through the other set of doors. Does that sound right?”

On-Jo shakes her head. “Not necessarily here, in the center of the room. I mean, a little further back closer to the sliding doors. We have to leave more room near the front of the class. Perhaps two-thirds of length before we build our barricade, leaving the other one-third in the interior.”

“Why is that?” Dae-Su queries.

“The zombies will outnumber us, especially if we’re trying to bait a whole corridor of them in here, not to mention any more that might come running from other floors nearby within hearing range.”

“I see.” Dae-Su nods appreciatively, acknowledging On-Jo’s explanation. “You know, you suck academically and aren’t technically considered book smart by any means, but you’re quite street clever.”

“Yah!” On-Jo exclaims, affronted. “Are you praising me or insulting me right now?”

Dae-Su looks away, tilting his head at Cheong-San to give him the slip.

“It’s a compliment,” Cheong-San settles before quickly moving on. “Let’s give your idea a shot, On-Jo. We can think about the rest later.”

“Since there’s a TV in here already mounted, we can connect it and blast the music at full-volume,” Joon-Yeong proposes. “We have to dig for the cord, though.” He gets up before turning around and requesting, “Ji-Min, can you help me look?”

“Sure.”

“Me too,” Hyo-Ryung offers, going along with the two.

“Alright, it can’t hurt to try!” Dae-Su claps his hands together once, enthusiastically. “We need to hurry and make good time before more of them group up outside.”

Nam-Ra is surprisingly great at locating random makeshift objects in the room for anything even remotely useful that could go toward building the barricade, shadowing you around the classroom as the two of you tag-team to lift tables while everyone else scatters to move chairs. The guys are tackling heavier furniture such as bookshelves and cabinets, standing them all vertically for better protection.

On-Jo is piling chairs on top of one another while Cheong-San gapes wistfully after her like a lost puppy as she inadvertently paces past him, much too engrossed in her task to notice him blatantly looking at her. You shake your head as you see him sigh, crushed, and makes to walk the other way after not being able to say anything to On-Jo.

“They latch on in swarms, so make sure to load everything securely in case it topples over, or onto us.” Su-Hyeok’s inborn headship skills help to keep the group in check and working in a timely manner. As he moves past you, he pats your head affectionately before promenading the other way to oversee the boys’ progress.

“Well, about that…” Dae-Su pauses with a large chair hoisted above his head, uncertain of the correct placement.

“You can fill the empty spot over there.” Joon-Yeong peeks over the top of the rising wall, pointing toward the middle with a wide enough space.

“Will do!” Dae-Su easily and swiftly slots the chair in between two tables and goes to grab more, all thanks to Joon-Yeong’s helpful eye from the other side of the barrier.

Beside you, On-Jo and Cheong-San are using extra cords and ropes to fasten chair legs to table legs.

“Let’s tighten these, here,” Cheong-San advises, holding a few furniture pieces together for On-Jo to tie.

“Like this?” You watch as On-Jo accidentally brushes her hand against his where she’s trying to feed a white cord of rope through the openings of his fingers to get to the chair legs.

“Uh…yeah,” Cheong-San agrees awkwardly, his face taking on a slight pink hue when On-Jo doesn’t remove her hand fully, even after having finished knotting the ropes.

You watch amused, speculating if On-Jo is doing it on purpose or if she’s merely enjoying teasing him, seeing as how she can barely fight off the grin trying to stretch its way across her face. Leaving them to their own task, you slide through one of the few open spaces left in the makeshift fortress, squeezing between two tables in search of the instruments needed later for distraction as On-Jo mentioned earlier.

You locate the music class’s now abandoned drums in the corner, but they’re much larger and heavier than you imagined, even if they’re inherently mostly hollow.

“Do you need help?”

You turn your head to the side, noticing Su-Hyeok standing with arms akimbo.

“Actually, yeah. You have perfect timing.” You smile, raising a hand to gesture at the biggest and roundest drums in the collection. It’d probably work the best as well, since it’ll make a deeper, reverberating sound. “Could you give me a hand?”

“My pleasure,” Su-Hyeok reacts quickly, reaching over to grab your hand, holding it tightly.

“You’re cute, but that’s not what I meant,” you say in between chuckles.

“I know.” Su-Hyeok smirks down at you while swinging your joined hands back and forth casually. “I wanted an excuse to hold your hand.”

“You’ve never needed one before.”

You don’t notice Cheong-San behind you both until he walks straight through between yours and Su-Hyeok’s interlaced hands playfully, as he turns and walks backwards toward the drums, facing both of you. “Since you guys are so good at this, can you flirt and woo the zombies so that they don’t chase after us?”

You glare humorously at Cheong-San, and he simply laughs it off. “Are you going to offer assistance, or just stand there and mess with us?” Crossing your arms, you fix him with the fakest stern look you can produce.

“Of course, I’m here to help. Who do you take me for?” Cheong-San effortlessly lifts the largest cask and makes to leave, but not before he peers around the edge of the drum sitting in his arms, nearly covering his whole face. “You know, if I was none the wiser, I’d mistake you two for a couple. I know you’re not, but I approve either way.” He smiles sincerely, and leaves without another word, leaving you and Su-Hyeok to transfer the rest of the instruments, laughing together at how clueless your friend is.

You grab enough drumsticks and bring them over to Nam-Ra behind the fortification, letting her set up in the corner while you go find On-Jo. Joon-Yeong and Su-Hyeok are busy working to connect the television, endless cables surrounding them. Despite the zombie under the piano having its face covered, Joon-Yeong still actively avoids it as much as possible every time he catches sight of it, his whole body leaning away in the opposite direction.

Pulling aside the red curtains barely a fraction of an inch, On-Jo previews out the windows.

“How does it look out there?” You stand and watch as her features contort in attentiveness, estimating.

“There’s a lot of them loitering still, so it seems like enough to bait in here and clear out the hallway.” She closes the curtains and inspects the classroom, satisfied. “I think this is as good as it’s going to get.”

Linking her arm through yours, she leads you toward the blockade where Dae-Su has just climbed over using the chair Cheong-San dragged over prior, serving the purpose of a step stool. Cheong-San and Su-Hyeok have already scrabbled over long ago and are within the barricade, now completely sealed up.

Cheong-San helps On-Jo over, and Su-Hyeok places his hand out for you to take as you leap over a table down to the inside, surprisingly more spacious than you expected. Cheong-San then ascends again, much to everyone’s confusion.

“Where are you going?” On-Jo asks, apprehensive. “Come back over here with me.”

Cheong-San refuses, partly remorseful. “Someone has to open the door, though.”

“Does it have to be you?” On-Jo gazes at him with wavering eyes, trying her best to catch a glimpse of him over the tall counters.

Dae-Su laments loudly next to her. “Yah,” he nags, “couldn’t you use your head a little better?”

On-Jo whips around, glowering. “You were the one who commended the idea earlier!”

“It’s nothing. I’ll open it quickly and be back before you know it.” Cheong-San is about to head to the sliding doors when Su-Hyeok stops him.

“Hold up, I’ll go with you.”

“Really, it’s fine,” Cheong-San assures, seeing the distressed look on your face.

“No, it’s not,” Su-Hyeok says with finality. “You can’t shoulder everything on your own, Cheong-San."

As Su-Hyeok prepares to hike back across to the other side, you grab onto the cuff of his blazer. “Wait, Su-Hyeok.” He turns to you, waiting to hear what you have to say. “Stay safe, okay?”

“I will.” He fleetingly leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering briefly, before vaulting over an upended table and landing next to Cheong-San soon after.

You and On-Jo stand side by side, observing the boys as they grasp the few remaining chairs and multiple hefty wooden speakers to wedge the opening with. Su-Hyeok has his hand on the doorjamb, ready to yank it back as he steers Cheong-San back toward safety. Reluctantly, Cheong-San steps away and nods, giving his friend the signal to commence.

Just as Cheong-San hops over, you hear the loud bang of the sliding door being thrown open, biting the inside of your cheek tensely as Su-Hyeok all but runs for his life.

The throng of zombies hear the sound, as intended, and surge inside, knocking the few obstacles at the foot of the door aside easily, tripping over one another.

By the time Su-Hyeok has scaled the barricade and lands both feet down next to you, more and more zombies have filed in, enticed by the choir’s singing that Joon-Yeong is playing from the camera in his clutch, pounding desks to amplify the sound with his free hand.

“Shit!” You hear Dae-Su cuss as he, Cheong-San and Su-Hyeok throw their body’s weight against a towering oak bookshelf to keep the zombies at bay on the opposite side. Regardless of how sturdy it is, the zombies are amassing in great numbers. Everyone is immensely struggling as you run around trying to deflect anything that’s tumbling from overhead so that no one faces a concussion, because frankly, that’s the last thing that should happen.

Shortly after no more loose objects rain down, you’re leaning your back against another cabinet, eyeing the zombies reaching over one another above you warily, even though they can’t quite scale the entire height. As they swing their arms, vying for a sliver to attack, the force of their efforts jangles the defense, the motion jostling, as you try to dig your heel into the floor to keep balance.

“There’s still zombies outside!” On-Jo agitatedly voices. “Dae-Su! Make some noise!”

“Noise? What kind of noise?” Somehow even in this situation, there’s no mistaking the suggestive tone in Dae-Su’s question.

“Not THAT kind of noise!” you grit out, trying to hold the tables upright. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Dae-Su!”

“Right!” Dae-Su sucks in a deep breath before bellowing at the top of his lungs, “HEY YOU ZOMBIE BASTARDS!!!!”

His shout is leagues louder than the incessant growls, but On-Jo prompts for a repeat.

“One more time!” She raises her hand toward him, signaling to increase the volume even more, if possible.

“COME AT US, YOU DEAD FUCKERS!!!”

Behind you, On-Jo and the girls start hitting cymbals, gongs, drums, and anything else that’s remotely considered a percussion instrument madly and erratically. With On-Jo having temporarily abandoned post, Wu-Jin takes over, assessing the situation outside.

“Wu-Jin!” Cheong-San hollers as he clenches his teeth and pushes against the undead flock once again with more fervor than before, the group of creatures having doubled since the initial run-in.

“Not yet! Hold out just a little more!” Wu-Jin’s shaking in his shoes, glancing back and forth between the window and your little group, regretful and hysterical at the same time. You can tell by the telltale wobble in his voice that he’s afraid this might be for nothing, sweat evidently beading on his hairline as he jitters uneasily.

Wood splinters piercingly near the front of the class, zombies outright pouring into the space, lobbing the sliding doors completely off the rails.

On-Jo is doing everything in her power to keep zombie hands away from everyone’s heads, especially Cheong-San’s. You see them share a mutually telepathic look, and there’s so much left unsaid in that moment.

“Watch out!” Su-Hyeok jolts toward you, nearly pressing you against the cabinet in his haste to stab a zombie with a folded metal music stand, shielding you in his arms. A finger length of a stretch, and the zombie would’ve had you.

Su-Hyeok releases you but presses in close, the two of you plastering your backs against the cabinet doors and pushing against the mountain of zombies, refocusing with whatever’s left of your strength.

“I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve put your life in danger because of me,” you barely get out, panting from exertion.

"You’re my everything, so let me be here for you in the one way I know how."

You can’t reply as the cabinet knocks back harder than before, almost forcing you to fall forward on your face. Even Su-Hyeok is slipping from his stance, his feet skidding on the floor before he presses his heels back against the corner of nearby desks, lowering his center of gravity.

“IT’S GOING TO FALL!” Hyo-Ryung screeches, flustering, but still not giving up.

“FUCK!” Wu-Jin lets out an aggravated howl from his spot by the window, on the brink of pulling his hair out.

“How much longer?” Dae-Su groans. “When can we fucking go?!”

“Almost! Hang on!” Wu-Jin sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, beyond stressed at having to tell his friends to wait while his only responsibility is to keep watch. To you, both are equally as important because a slight miscalculation and everyone could potentially be in a face-off with zombies in the hallway and the classroom.

You squeeze your eyes shut and spare the last burst of energy in your body toward holding out for dear life, the reverberations rattling your spine and snarls echoing in your ears. Grunts and yells come from every direction as all around you, your friends’ vigor depletes.

Only a little bit of time has passed, despite feeling like eternity, before Wu-Jin gives confirmation. “It’s clear! We have to go now!” The raven-head gathers spare music stands in his arms should makeshift weapons be needed, and hastens the girls to exit the room first.

Su-Hyeok pushes you lightly but firmly toward the back door and you grab On-Jo’s hand as you throw one last look at him.

“Cheong-San!” On-Jo calls out, the beginning of tears apparent in her eyes.

“Come on, On-Jo, we have to go. They’ll be right behind us.” You try your best to console her, even as you worry for the three boys left in the room.

“Go!” Cheong-San directs at Dae-Su.

“No, you first!” Dae-Su exclaims. Seeing Cheong-San hesitate, he emphasizes further, “I think I’m going to shit myself if you don’t hurry and leave! You too, Bare-Su!”

Su-Hyeok looks torn, but ultimately doesn’t want to waste any more precious time, hastily grabbing both you and On-Jo, pulling you two down the hallway. A little farther back, Cheong-San has Dae-Su by the collar and drags him along, the classroom that was once a sanctuary now left behind, a new home for the zombies.

Your group is making good time on the stairs as Su-Hyeok ushers everyone to go before him. On-Jo waits for Cheong-San to catch up and latches onto his hand tightly, not letting go.

Unexpectedly, Su-Hyeok trips, and you pivot back around to give him a hand. “Let’s go!” He squeezes back in thanks, and sprints alongside you all the way up to the rooftop door, only to find it sealed shut.

Cheong-San is alternating between kicking, shoving, and yanking, to no avail. “It’s locked,” he says dejectedly.

“What?!” Incredulous, Dae-Su gives it a go, throwing his whole body, flesh against metal so hard that it rattles, but disappointingly, the exit doesn’t give way.

“Wait,” Cheong-San interjects. “Step aside.” He promptly moves over to the keypad located on the left and attempts to bypass the security system, typing in random combinations that all result in the same dead end: no access.

The rooftop is off limits to students. Your eyes hover over the words as everyone grows more desperate by the minute, impending doom barely a foot away.

“Is anyone there?” Joon-Yeong screams, pounding both fists against the door. “Anyone?” He repeats. “If there is, please, please, open the door for us!”

Su-Hyeok casts occasional glances down the stairwell, restless, and you place your hand over his where it’s gripping the banister railing tightly, hoping to give him even the slightest peace of mind.

When no one answers from the other side and you’re all running out of options, Wu-Jin and Dae-Su goes shoulders-first, crashing against the door once again, relying on determination alone. Staring at the door, you feel as though there could be someone on the other side. Something in your gut tells you that there is, but you have no way of validating your gut-feeling, so you settle for burning a hole into the door with your gaze, yearning that wishful thinking was anything but an attribution of reality.

“I hear breathing…” Nam-Ra suddenly utters to you.

“You what?” You turn to her, eyes wide.

Before she can answer, Cheong-San and Su-Hyeok run down a few steps, music stands lifted at the ready. You watch over them, trepidation making your hands quiver. Nothing is worse than waiting, but it’s a thousand times more nerve wracking when you don’t want to wait for what you know will inevitably come.

“They’re here.” Nam-Ra snaps her head toward where the two boys are standing, and true to her word, not even a second later, a cacophony of rumbles erupt, the creatures stampeding up the stairwell.

Door will open automatically in case of fire.

“Fire! That’s it!” Exasperated faces stare back at you, equal parts curious. “Does anyone have a lighter we can throw up at the sprinkler? All emergency stairwells will unlock if we stage a fire!”

“I do,” Nam-Ra replies to everyone’s shock, digging through her skirt pockets.

“Cheong-San! Incoming!” Su-Hyeok’s warning pulls you back to the scene of action, glancing down to see Cheong-San sprawled on his back fighting off zombies as another horde drives Su-Hyeok against the wall. They’re both saving each other by close calls, and you’re all running out of time.

“Nevermind,” you backpedal. “My plan can wait, but they can’t.” You point to the boys as Nam-Ra grabs a waterproof tarp from the side, leftover from construction most likely.

“Let’s throw this over!” Nam-Ra flings the large blue canvas and swings it in a near perfect arc to drape down from the floor above. You and the rest of the girls rush to hold onto it, evenly spaced apart as Joon-Yeong, Wu-Jin, and Dae-Su continue their relentless attack on the door still.

“Don’t let go and pull tight!” you suggest, looking over the handrail down below to gauge the outcome.

For the time being, it’s effective, allowing Cheong-San and Su-Hyeok some leeway so that they’re not constantly fighting off the creatures aside from the ones that manage to slip through undetected.

You squint as you see the cover being flung upward, a female zombie levitating up the stairs, held suspended in midair by someone.

“Are we saved?” On-Jo shuffles beside you, raking her sight over to see who has the creature in a chokehold.

For the first time in a long time, you see true terror reflected in Cheong-San’s eyes as someone looms before him, slowly ascending.

There’s no mistaking the bloody silhouette.

“No…” you pause, breath caught in your throat. “We’re doomed.” Your grip tautens on the thin, rough sheet in your hands, fingers pressing inward so hard you can feel nail marks embedding itself into the flesh of your palm.

The tall figure turns around, looking right at you with a cheshire grin turned sinister, baring teeth smeared red.

Gwi-Nam.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 𝟩 | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 𝟫

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Ｔａｇｌｉｓｔ

@american-sataness @ashrocker123 @baxdra369 @bigtuffswordboy @cosmicwintr @crimson-butterfly16 @darlingimafangirl @dayfyre @dramasmarvel @elicheel @ellesalazar @elysl1an @eternallyvenus @gangsterranger @gardenwn @girlontheblock @heartsforhyeju @huang-the-geek @l-ryuzakitwenty-four @ikissvernon @imonlyhereforfanfic @imvivian @itsmesofia @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @iwachansupremacy @izrosei @jaxavance @jisangtome @kaitsubaki @kayleenjinnie @kierd @laugh-like-the-moon @lexaa01 @lilithdame @lovepoisons @luvelyxp @meliade-ot @missmollya @musicshylover @nostalgisters @oldiezbutgoodies @onlythebest-106 @rmeddar123 @sageknoxious @sanaenjoyyer @smoooore @snow-strawberry @suminnature @sunaispretty @sunweee @superbfishhumanoidweasel @supersanelyromantic @teenagefunfury @tenkos4lifer @thege3k @tita004 @totomoshi @tsukibabyy @underlinedkasis @vesrin @voidcupidz @winchester-petrova @woderfulkawaii @yourwonderbelle @4risu

© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐞𝐭𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐱’𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐔𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨, 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.

#suhyeok x reader #su hyeok x reader #lee su hyeok x reader #all of us are dead #aouad #aouad x reader #lee suhyeok #suhyeok fanfic #lee su hyeok fanfic #lee suhyeok fanfic #x reader #reader insert #female reader #zombie apocalypse #gone in the morning

[angrelysimpping]

October Prompt Day 18: Picking Apples

GN Remy (they/them); GN Reader (you/your); hybrids; cow tf; Remy fluffy cow AU; Reader refers to Remy as “Master,” Reader probably has Stockholm Syndrom; mentioned past abuse 

Words: 528

“What are you doing out here, silly beastie.”

You moo softly, tail swishing happily and ears perking up. You knew you weren’t supposed to leave the special pin Master put you in, and you feared the consequences for doing so, but luck seemed to be on your side today. Your Master just sighs fondly as they pat your head between your horns, pulling the lead they keep on their belt, right next to their whip, and clipping it to your collar.

You press against their side, tail brushing against their knee as you try to keep it from curling around their calf. Master didn’t like it when you were too affectionate with them with the farmhands around and you wanted to be good for them. But, it was hard. You wanted, no, needed to be next to them at all times. Needed to hear their voice and feel their touch and inhale their scent.

Sometimes, in the very dark of the night, you’d have nightmares of a life without them. Cold rooms and little food. Cruel eyes and probing fingers. When your shrieks and moos woke up the whole farm, your Master would come for you, comfort you. Sure, there were a few lingering memories from when they’d first taken you in, but you needed to learn your place. It was for the best. Now they kept you with them nearly all the time. Their “best producer,” they’d call you while dropping a kiss behind your soft ear. 

So, why didn’t they let you stay with them all the time? Why even put you in a pin at all? You knew they like having you by their side. You can tell from the way their shoulders relax as you butt your head against their chest with another soft moo, the way their lips twitch into a real smile as you look at them with something close to adoration. 

“Out here for apples, silly thing?” 

They gesture to the trees around you, branches weighed down enough with the coveted fruit that Remy can easily reach out and pluck one from the tree. They offer the fruit to you, holding it between their thumb and forefinger so you can eat from their hand. You shake your head in a no, leaning forward but not biting into the fruit. Instead, you press a kiss to your Master’s thumb, warm leather familiar on your lips.

“Master looked lonely,” you mumble, pressing another kiss to their gloved hand. 

Remy’s breath hitches, face growing warm as you travel up their hand, lips brushing over their wrist. 

They jerk away from you, the motion making your ears drop, heart aching. You didn’t mean to upset your Master, but it seemed you had. Tears gather at the corners of your eyes and you’re about to apologize for acting out when Remy lets a huff, tugging on your leash as they start to walk out of the orchard. 

“Come on, let’s get you back where you belong.”

You’d start crying, mooing out for forgiveness, if Remy was leading you back to the barn. They’re not. You know the way to your Master’s home by heart, after all.

#degrees of lewdity #remy's fluffy cow #remy the farmer #tw hybrids #cw hybrids #tw past abuse #cw past abuse #cow tf #fall fluff

[britts-galaxy-brain]

In her most recent livestream Lily decided to begin claiming that a mutual friends of your’s (back when you and LO were still friends) named Alison told you about her molesting children/having CP on her computer and that you “just shrugged it off” without having told the police about it. Needless to say, given what an abusive monster that Lily is and the SHITTON of pedophilic fanfiction/porn that he has stashed away on various secret accounts or has tried desperately to scrub from the internet. I think its very fucking safe to say that LO made all of this crap up. Hell, this ‘Alison’ person sounds a whole HELL of a lot like that Tara Callie person that Lily USED to talk about and claim was guilty of these very safe fucking things. . . . .

You absolutely don’t fucking have to respond to or even mention this ask, I just couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t tell you about this horrible bullcrap that Lily is claiming about you. Its so horrifying to watch this abuse and slander being done by LO to you, Lizzy, Cypher, etc. when she thinks that nobody will be able to hold her fucking accountable for it. Because, surprise, this was absolutely another fucking livestream that has been deleted by LO and not archived by her in the least. I know how awful situations like these ones are, as I’ve had all too familiar experiences with abusers like LO in my own life, and I just want to say what you’re doing is some really great work. That has definitely made a REALLY fucking positive impact on the mental health and well—bring of Lily’s victims. Stay strong, keep doing this incredible work, and one day Lily will find out that abusive, pedophilic monsters like her NEVER fucking succeed in the end!!

I'm glad someone asked me about this directly. I just listened to the clip in full and...hoo boy. Let's begin unpacking that.

(Here's the clip anon is referring to. You can't erase history anymore, Lily.)

First off, there was never anyone in the Valkyr Studios Cinematic Universe named Allison, fake or otherwise. She's talking about Tara Callie. Also, Lily didn't "rat her out". LILY CAME TO ME ASKING IF SHE SHOULD DELETE TARA'S HARD DRIVES.

Now to address the harder, more embarrassing in hindsight aspect to this botched tale; I didn't handle it how it should've been handled. I had no idea what I should do and nobody I could go to for advice. I had also reached a point where I was almost completely convinced Tara Callie didn't exist, which added an extra layer to that "I have no idea how to handle this as a sheltered 19 year old" issue. On a personal note, I'd already dealt with attempting to report my own SM to law enforcement a few years prior to this, only to have it blow up in my face and make everything worse. So in my mind, if something that happened TO ME on a LOCAL LEVEL wasn't enough to be believed, how the hell was I going to get anywhere with an online crime with a person that I wasn't even sure existed at all, from an entirely different country? I racked my brain between the stress I was dealing with IRL to figure out what I should do, or if I should do anything at all, whether I was being played, who I'd contact, how I'd contact them (calling internationally even online was harder back then), etc. No, I didn't handle that situation well. Because I legitimately didn't know what to do. I didn't just "brush it off". It stressed me to no end. All I could think to do at that time was continue to probe "Tara" for any sort of solid proof on whether she was real or not.

LILY KNEW ABOUT TARA'S SEXUAL DEVIANCY THE ENTIRE TIME.

WHICH IS PART OF WHY I DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO HANDLE THIS. LILY KNEW AND ACTED LIKE IT WAS NORMAL. THIS IS NOT THE ONLY INSTANCE OF THIS HAPPENING.

The biggest question I have right now is thus:

WHY WOULD YOU GET DRUNK ON A PUBLIC STREAM WHEN YOU'RE JUGGLING THIS MANY LIES?

#lily orchard #lily peet #peet post #tara callie #evidence #receipts

[skylarmoon71]

Timeless Wells (Flash) Soldier- Chapter 11

“I can’t believe it. You did it Ms. Yale. “ 

The live video of the police arresting an unconscious Justin is a bit surreal. Allison is basically bouncing around the office as she rushes out to take yet another call. The police spent hours probing with questions. Barry had disassembled the bomb. There was nothing left but the pieces of it. When they found Justin on the third floor of the building with blueprints and other dangerous equipment, it wasn’t hard to put the pieces together. 

You’d manage to keep up a stern front when you were getting praised for your incredible work. When Iris hugged you and basically thanked you for saving over a hundred employees that were in the building. You got through it all. Harrison had basically given the entire staff the rest of the day off. After that fiasco, no one was complaining. Who didn’t love a day off with pay. 

Allison was heading to her apartment to secure half a dozen other companies that were now jumping to sponsor Harrison’s tech. All in all, it was as good a day as any. But there were still so many questions. 

When it was just the two of you, Harrison closed the door. You were seated on the couch, knee bouncing frantically. He could see your unease. It had taken everything in you not to break down those last few hours. He moved to walk over to you, but you stood, keeping at a distance. Harrison paused. 

“I know this might be a lot to take in.” 

“Might be a lot. Are you kidding me!! I emptied my clip on that thing and he just caught them like it was nothing!!”

“I get why you would be upset.” 

You let out a dry laugh. This time you draw your gun, it’s aimed at Harrison. His eyes open in disbelief. 

“Ten years ago I was out in the desert fighting for my life. I watched as my team was cut down one by one. In a stupid attempt to save my superior from suffering the same faith I was ready to die. And then that thing…” You hold in a sob. 

“T-That thing appeared and tried to kill us both. N-Now you tell me that you're working with a murderer and you expect me to be fine with that.” 

“The man you saw was not my friend.” 

“That was no man. It was a monster.” Your gun is still pointed at him. 

A body phases right through the door, and you change direction. There he is again, red suit prominent. Your entire body is shaking. He lifts his hands in a surrender. 

“I’m not the speedster you saw that night. I know that man. You’re right he is a monster. The same man who tried to kill you, he killed my mother.” Your eyes water, and when he reaches for the edge of his mask and pulls it off, you’re at a loss.

“My name is Barry Allen, I’m the Flash.” 

Just when you thought your life could not get anymore complicated. 

You drop the gun, and your knees buckle. 

Harrison knew it would be difficult to completely convince you. But now that it’s clear that you’re already looped into the impossible, they have no choice but to jump down the rabbit hole. After helping you back to the couch and grabbing you a bottle of water, he does the best he can to explain. 

“The man that you saw that day. His name is Eobard Thawne. He has powers, abilities just like Barry.” 

You lower the bottle, eyes shifting to Barry. He was keeping his distance for the time being. Something you appreciated. You still weren’t sold that he was a good guy. 

“Eobard Thawne is Barry’s worst enemy. He’s tried relentlessly to take everything from him. His family, friends. Every and anyone who has ever meant anything to him. He has manipulated and used the people closest in his life to do that. I was also a victim of his hate towards Barry.” 

Not much makes sense, but Harrison is wearing that look again. The same one he had that day. 

“When you were talking about understanding hate..that’s what you meant..” 

Harrison nods solemnly. 

“Eobard stole my life, he took away the love of my life and ruined my reputation. Everything I stood for.” There’s clear pain, the kind you never truly thought you would see from him. The guy who walked into work with the biggest smile on his face. The brightest hope in his eyes. 

“Barry is the only reason I am alive today. He saved me. Saved all of us.” He presses his hand to his chest, and you’re a bit confused by the gesture. But from the look they exchange, it’s obviously something significant.

“Barry here is impossible, and so am I.” 

You aren’t sure what to make of that statement. But he snaps his fingers and he’s gone in a burst of green particles. 

When he reappears, he’s right in front of you, and you jump. 

He doesn’t touch you, doesn’t even try to. He needs you to understand that this is all real. 

You aren’t sure what response you can give.

“I know you’ll need time to internalize this. I just want you to know that you aren’t crazy.” 

This is the comfort you needed that day when you had spilled your guts to the captain. He’d chalk it up to trauma. Now here Harrison stood telling you everything you’d seen that day was real. If that was true, then the light..

“W-What about the green orb! The one that saved me, w-was that you?” 

Both Barry and Harrison appear confused. 

“Green orb? I’m sorry I don’t know.” Harrison wishes he could give you more. It’s clear that you’re desperate for answers. You deflate. 

Even with the current information, there is still so much you truly don’t grasp. One thing is certain though. 

“I’m really glad you aren’t some serial killer. I really wasn’t looking forward to shooting Harrison Wells.” You sigh,

Barry’s brows furrow. 

“Excuse me?” 

Harrison is unable to fight the laughter and despite the situation, you begin laughing too.

#harrisonxreader #flash #timelines #bodyguard #soldier #past #traum #barryallen #harrisonwells #truth #trust #pain #protective #real #speedsters