#anyway. i just think it’s easy for them. they met and something slid into place

[crocodilenjoyer]

here’s the thing. about zolu. puts myhand on your shoulder Here’s the thing. luffy? aromantic. zero interest in romance. zoro? gay. very low interest in romance. has two braincells and they’re both devoted to thinking about swords. they are not dating. it is not romantic. it’s not sexual either because luffy, much like his views on romance, could not give less of a shit about sex. maybe if they both feel up to it at the same time, but that’s rare and when it does happen it’s more of a physicality and, to a lesser extent, affection thing than anything else. occasionally it’s a “hey wouldn’t it be weird/funny/fucked up if we [insert some david cronenberg-type shit]” thing and the other one goes “haha yeah do you wanna try.” but i digress.

however. HOWEVER. they Have A Thing. what that Thing entails is a mystery. luffy is both incredibly straightforward and frustratingly cryptic whenever he’s asked about it and zoro just kinda shrugs. they’re just luffyandzoro and zoroandluffy. the king and his lionheart. drift compatible. partners. captain and first mate. the sailor and the north star. sun and moon. they simply Are. what does that entail? well brother. they hang out

[artemis-73]

Suptober Day 13: Monster Mash

"For the record," Castiel ground out. "I think this is a bad idea."

"Noted," Michael said as he straightened his tie in the reflection of the car window.

They were both horrifically out of place. The meeting location had been picked by the Winchesters. It was one of their shitty dive bars with a parking lot that looked like a bad movie set. There were wooden palettes stacked haphazardly with a tarp thrown over them in one corner. In another, a grimy dumpster with broken beer bottles littering the ground around it.

It was before noon, so the parking lot was empty except for their car, but Castiel imagined the unassuming gray BMW was unusual for the area as well.

Of course, Michael noticed his hesitance and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Sometimes, in our business, you have to get your hands dirty. Now, use your brains and not your fangs, and we'll be fine."

As much as Castiel wanted to argue, he kept his mouth shut and followed Michael into the bar. All the lights were on, but it was still dim. Every surface was wood. The walls, the floor, the bartop, the ceiling. Not only was it ugly, but it meant that the smells of the place seeped in deep. Every cigarette that had been smoked, every beer that had been spilled and not wiped up for hours, it all lingered. Worse than all of that, though, was the current, present scent of dog.

Castiel did his best not to react, no matter how much he wanted to wrinkle his nose.

The culprits were perched on barstools, each with a bottle of beer in their hands. Castiel had seen John Winchester before--they'd had a few tentative trade deals over the past few years--but he didn't know the other man. Judging by the smell, he'd guess another werewolf.

Even though the Winchesters were known to employ nearly exclusively family, and Castiel knew John had at least two sons, there was no resemblance between the two of them. Where John had dark hair and eyes and a broad build with blunt hands, the other werewolf was slight. He was a delicate thing with fine hands and fanning, light lashes around soft, green eyes. He was swallowed up by the leather jacket he wore.

There was something about him that made disquiet roil in Castiel's gut. He knew that he was trouble.

Michael held a hand out in greeting. "Winchester."

The Winchester patriarch smiled wide and half-drunk. "Mikey." He shook Michael's hand sloppily.

The blatant disrespect made Castiel's fangs tingle and threaten to descend, but he willed them to stay in place.

Ever the professional, Michael didn't react. "You've met Castiel."

"'Course. The kid brother, right? Is that what the sharps call each other?"

"Yes, he's my brother."

"I see the resemblance." Winchester laughed at his own joke though Castiel balked at it. He and Michael actually did look alike with their dark hair and blue eyes. It wasn't as though Michael had brought Zachariah or Raphael with him. "Anyway," Winchester continued, "let's get this show on the road. Follow me."

He wobbled off the bar stool and headed toward the door with a "Staff Only" sign. When Castiel tried to follow, the other werewolf slid into his path.

"Nuh uh. You and me stay out here," he said.

"That wasn't the plan," Castiel snapped. He looked to Michael for support, but Michael just raised a hand, effectively telling him to stop.

The door clicked close behind the two older men, and the werewolf went back to his beer. "Name's Dean. Sorry my old man didn't say. He's used to working with people we already know." He said it like doing otherwise was worse than death. "You want a drink?"

"Not from you."

"I meant a beer."

"The answer doesn't change." Castiel shoved his hands into his coat pockets. Maybe if he just got a little closer to the door… He started pacing. After a couple of passes he chanced an extra few steps closer.

"Uh-uh." Dean snapped his fingers. "Where you think you're going?"

Castiel glared. "Nowhere."

Dean smiled, almost easy, but with a sharp edge. "Then why don't you take a load off? And if you don't wanna sit too close to me, there's plenty of seats around." He gestured broadly to the long line of stools.

"No, thank you."

"It wasn't a suggestion." The smile was gone, replaced with an intensity that probably had all his underlings scrambling to obey.

"And what makes you think I take orders from a dog? No, not a dog. A puppy."

Dean's eyes flashed golden, and he snirled his lip to show his canines. "Watch it."

Castiel let his fangs drop and showed them fully on a hiss. Dean crossed the space between them in a blink, but he still had enough control not to touch. He was growling low in his chest, and they were close enough that Castiel swore he could feel it in his own. There was nothing he wanted more than to take the first swipe. He wanted to tear into the other man's throat.

"What is your fucking problem, man?" Dean grit out finally. His eyes flashed back to their natural green, and the breath stuttered out of Castiel. It was the strangest thing, and it threw Castiel off kilter.

Finally, he said, "You smell like a dog." Which was technically true, but he'd worked with wolves before.

"And?"

"This place is a shithole."

"Well, boohoo, Princess." Dean backed away then. He deliberately turned his back and continued nursing his beer. His canines still made bumps across his upper lip, but he seemed calm enough. "You're the one asking us for help."

"Michael's asking you for help," Castiel corrected without a thought.

Dean slanted an unimpressed look at him. "Huh. Never would've guessed you weren't on board."

"I fail to see what you mutts—"

"Okay, dude," Dean snapped. "Enough with the dog shit. Yeah, we're werewolves, yuck it up. Jesus, you'd think you'd never worked with a different species before."

"Most of the species we work with don't smell—"

"Yeah, well, you smell like an emergency room, so people in glass houses…"

Castiel waited for him to continue, to explain, to elaborate. When none of that happened, he said, "What about people in glass houses?"

Dean spun around on his stool. "You're kidding, right?" He looked Castiel up and down. "Oh, man, you're serious as a bullet in the gut. You know, the saying 'people in glass houses shouldn't throw rocks'?"

"No."

"Well, buddy, it's self-explanatory. You stink, so don't go around telling other people they smell bad."

"We don't sme—"

"You really, really do. It's singeing my poor, delicate puppy nose—" It really was a nice nose. Castiel huffed at the ridiculous thought, realized he was staring, and looked away. "—and soon, I won't be able to smell anything at all."

"Are you making fun of me?"

Dean leaned his elbows on the bar behind him, making himself a long, confident line. He smiled crookedly. "Only a little bit."

If Castiel were human, he was sure he'd be flushed. Something like anger heated his blood, and he wanted… He wanted…

Dean had freckles, Castiel realized. They were a light dusting across his nose and the top of his cheeks. He wasn't sure how he hadn't noticed them before. He wasn't sure why he was noticing them at all. Dean's eyes were sparkling—even in the shitty, low light—like he knew a secret. He raised his beer to his lips. His tongue darted out to guide it home, and as he tipped it back to take a drink, half of it slipped past his mouth and down the front of his shirt.

He jerked upright with a muttered "shit." He scrambled for the roll of paper towels behind the bar. Castiel let himself laugh, grateful that the ridiculous, obscene display was over. His heart slowed to a more reasonable rhythm; the adrenaline that had been singing in his blood faded.

As he cleaned away the spilled beer, Dean kept darting looks up at him through his lashes. There was still a small smile on his lips, but it didn't seem like a taunt anymore.

He tossed the last of the soiled paper towels and grabbed two fresh beers. "Now that we've both made asses of ourselves, you down for a drink?"

"I did no such thing," Castiel said. Still, he took the offered bottle.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sure Michael would be thrilled that you hissed at me like a fucking cat." Dean settled on his barstool again, and after a moment's hesitation, Castiel took the one beside him.

"I gotta ask," Dean said after they'd nursed their beers in silence for a few minutes. "The whole hospital thing. Do you bathe in bleach?"

Castiel struggled to stifle his laugh. "Feeding can be messy. We have to use a variety of cleaning materials."

"You totally bathe in bleach. Have you ever heard of cologne? It could do wonders for you."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Dean tapped a rhythm on the bartop. If Castiel didn't know any better, he'd think the werewolf was nervous. "Don't know if it would help the dog smell. That's a harder one to cover up."

Before Castiel could think of anything to say, Michael came sweeping out of the back room. "Dean, thank you for keeping my brother company."

"Any time," Dean said easily enough. To Castiel, he said, "Maybe next time we'll get through a full beer?"

Castiel's mouth suddenly felt dry. He nodded tersely before following Michael out of the building.

[tiedyeflannels]

Adventure of a Lifetime

Kim Taehyung x reader

Chapter 13 | Masterlist

A/N: ~Listen my my baby 나는~ We learned some choreo! Pat yourself on the back! Anyway, I'll be wrapping up this series within the next few chapters. Thanks for sticking with me and I hope you enjoy!

-3rd Person POV-

 “Do you have a dance that you’d like to learn,” Hoseok asked.

Y/n thought for a bit, “Umm… maybe something that isn’t too difficult?”

“How about ‘Boy With Luv’? That one’s kind of easy,” Jimin shouted as he slid down the wall right behind the group.

Namjoon and Taehyung joined him while others branched off for their break. Jungkook was the only one that stayed with the two that were going to practice.

“That one would be fun,” Jungkook said, standing up and stretching.

He, then, went over to where his bag was and pulled out his phone, walking back to us while typing something.

“Just so you know how it goes,” Jungkook said as all three of them watched the “Boy With Luv” dance practice before starting.

Right behind them, sitting by the wall, a conversation took place.

“So… ‘Tae’ huh? When did that happen,” Jimin asked, taking a sip from his water bottle.

Taehyung sighed, “It’s a long story.”

“Can’t be that long,” Jimin deadpanned.

“It happened when we were coming back from the beach-”

“Did you confess,” Jimin gasped.

“No! No, I didn’t,” Taehyung quickly objected. 

“I’m lost,” Namjoon sighed and Jimin nodded in agreement.

“So, we all know that you like Y/n, but you haven’t confessed?” Taehyung shook his head, so Namjoon asked another question.

“Are they single?”

The former nodded, making Jimin sigh, “Then why haven’t you told them?”

“I was going to, at the beach, but then Y/n slipped and got hurt so I didn’t think that it would be the right time. Plus they said that they have feelings for someone else,” Taehyung sighed, not sure if he wanted to tell the others that the feelings were for Jeong-Gyu.

“Well, something’s going on with you two,” Namjoon spoke.

“Everyone can see it,” Yoongi said as he sat down with the small group.

“Yeah…” Taehyung trailed off to look at the others and watched Y/n pick up on the movements in the chorus.

Y/n laughed happily when they completed the steps for the chorus. Taehyung fondly smiled before turning his head down.

He shook his head and sighed, knowing that he’s going to regret saying this, “It doesn’t help that we almost kissed last night.”

The others quickly turned their heads from wherever they were facing to look at the boy.

“WHAT?!”

The loud commotion made everyone look over to the group in the back in question. There was a long silence in the room as everyone was looking at each other. Y/n and Taehyung met each other’s eyes in the mirror, the former’s held a bit of concern.

“Sorry,” Jimin called out and everyone went back to what they were doing before.

“What do you mean almost kissed,” Jimin whispered.

Taehyung told them a basic overview of what happened the night before and how he and Y/n were about to kiss until Yeontan interrupted. The older boys sighed at their younger brother’s predicament.

“Okay so, this confession needs to happen soon,” Yoongi said.

“Isn’t it going to confuse them?” 

“Listen, I think it’s better that Y/n knows your feelings rather than playing this little game of cat and mouse where they would be even more confused. If you tell Y/n, then the ball is in their court and they can decide what to do,” Namjoon rationalized.

Taehyung nodded, knowing that would be the right thing to do but wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but for the time being, he turned his attention back to the group before him. 

Y/n was learning the movements for the fourth verse, Hoseok and Jungkook’s verse. They smiled brightly as Y/n swung their arm in front of them before bending forward and shaking their finger.

“That has to be my favorite move,” Y/n laughed as they happily did it again. The two others smiled at their enthusiasm and so did Taehyung.

They all continued doing their own things, the dance group did a small run-through and the group in the back continued to chat a while about a few things before it was time for all of them to go back to practicing.

“Thanks for teaching me, it was a lot of fun,” Y/n smiled as they thanked Jungkook and Hoseok.

“Of course! It was a lot of fun! You’re a surprisingly fast learner, unlike…” Jungkook looked over his shoulder at Jin, who rolled his eyes at the implication.

Y/n laughed before going to sit down by the wall once more and the guys went back to practicing. It was a couple hours before they called it “quits” for the day. They all started to pack up their belongings when Namjoon spoke up to ask a question.

“Do you guys want to get some dinner?”

Some nodded happily, some shrugged but still agreed to go. Namjoon turned to Y/n, “Do you want to come?” 

They raised their eyebrows in surprise, “Oh! Sure, if you guys are okay with it.”

“Of course,” Hoseok cheered, making everyone nod in agreement to let me tag along. Y/n smiled, “I would love to join!”

Jungkook cheered and joined Y/n as they all started heading out of the dance studio. They both fell into a nice conversation with some of the others joining in, but Jimin and Taehyung stayed behind the group a few steps.

“Remember to tell Y/n before they leave, okay,” Jimin whispered to his friend.

Taehyung sighed and nodded, “I know.”

Jimin nudged him in support, “Listen, something’s there. You don’t just almost kiss on accident. Everything’s going to work out.”

A relieved smile made its way onto the younger one’s face, “Thanks.”

“And you know, nothing’s stronger ~than a boy with love~” Jimin sang before laughing once Taehyung playfully shoved him away.

Taglist:

@maple-leaves-in-the-wind | @amaroho | @eli-xar

[tqngerine]

stay in the middle — 16. coolbeans

SYNOPSIS: Huening Kai would do anything for his best friend Taehyun, and this one small favor is no exception. It appears that Kai’s fellow campus journalist Y/N has caught his attention, and Taehyun needs help connecting to them. Befriending someone outside of his small social circle wasn’t something Kai did often, but he comes to find that it’s easy to get close to Y/N—maybe even getting a little too close.

word count: 1.6k

“This place isn’t as suffocating as I remembered.” Y/N couldn’t help but hum, gazing around the small cafe. Now that they weren’t overwhelmed with worries about social interaction anymore, they could properly appreciate the array of wooden decor lined up at the top of the cream walls. Plates, large utensils, framed coffee beans, the items were appropriate but quaint in its display. Y/N was quite charmed.

Sitting opposite to them, Kai made the practical decision of scanning the menu for their dinner selection. “My best friend and I often meet here in the early morning to charge up before our classes.“

“The same best friend that helped you with your report outline for earlier?”

Kai gave a nod.

“With the amount of times you’ve mentioned him, I’m wondering why I haven’t met him yet.” Y/N laughed.

A penguin pout graced his lips. “Ah, he’s especially busy these days because he’s in the volleyball team, training and all. But I promise you I’ll introduce him to you eventually.” He crossed his arms over the table. “Likewise, I want to meet your friends too.”

Y/N scrunched their face. “I fear they’re not as cute and into Sanrio as I am.”

“Not even Soobin?”

“He’s only cute. That’s the only thing he’s got going on for him.”

Kai giggled—or rather cackled with incredibly more power than necessary, earning him a few stares from the neighboring customers. After realizing his volume, he immediately turned to bow in silent apology to each table, looking like a docking ostrich in the process.

“We should probably take our orders now.” Y/N said, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Good idea.”

Y/N requested for a plate of carbonara while Kai went for a traditional caesar salad, along with two glasses of blue lemonade.

Once the waiter had left, the two were met with comfortable silence. They had just finished observing the swim team for almost three hours, it had already been a long day for them.

Although they have definitely grown much closer since the last time they were here (the longest and most awkward 30 minutes of their life, as Y/N remembered it), they found that they didn’t need to be constantly speaking to enjoy each other’s presence. Both naturally leaned more toward being the quiet type anyway.

The same panicky boy that made a mess out of Y/N’s papers almost a month ago wore a much calmer countenance today, his ebony curls more neatly kept and eyes crinkling into creases. He was fiddling with the corners of the paper placemat beneath him, creating a pile of paper crumbs that had been softly ripped apart.

“You’re not gonna have a placemat by the time the food arrives if you keep at it.” Y/N teased, pointing at the pile.

The tips of Kai’s ears colored. “Oops, habit of mine. My hands get restless so I often fidget without thinking.”

“No need to justify yourself, I promise. How about you help me with something instead to keep you busy.” Y/N then turned to their backpack to fish out a pastel pink notebook. They slid it in front of Kai to reveal the numerous Hello Kitty stickers decorating the front cover.

“That’s a lot of glitter on those stickers.” Kai’s own eyes sparkled at the sight.

“I always say it’s never enough.” Y/N smirked before flipping to the last filled page. Scribbled all over it was a mind map of words like moon, aliens, and galaxy, drawn arrows pointing them toward each other. “See, before I got in The Hybe Times, I used to submit self-written stories to the local student magazine. I’ve been thinking of submitting another one for the first time in so long, but I can’t quite stick to one idea.”

Kai took in Y/N’s explanation while examining the seemingly nonsensical writings on the page. “I’m gathering that your story is space themed?”

“Yep. The upcoming issue will commemorate the anniversary of the moon landing, so outer space was given as the prompt.” Y/N leaned backward, heaving a sigh. “But space is such a broad topic—kind of literally, too. So much could be talked about, how do I condense it into one short story?”

Kai’s eyes remained focus on trying to follow the words on the page, eyebrows scrunched thoughtfully. “Hm, do you know what all these arrows remind me of? Constellations. Metaphorical lines that connect different bodies together to form a bigger picture.”

Y/N blinked at his interpretation, caught pleasantly surprised. “That’s… I like that.”

“You do?”

“Constellations as lines that connect and create a bigger picture…” Y/N flipped the notebook back to face them and started furiously inking down the sparks in their mind. From their peripheral, they saw Kai watch in awe, his mouth slightly agape. Y/N only let a select few people witness their “light bulb” moments like these so they were admittedly a bit flustered under his gaze.

They finally looked up, corners of their lips stretched wide. “I don’t know how you did it but you just helped me plot out a full beginning, middle, and end of a short story.”

“That fast?” Kai gawked. “I’m impressed.”

“The mind works in mysterious ways.” Y/N reached forward to tap Kai’s temple with their finger. “Yours so much more so than mine.”

At that moment, Y/N’s eyes caught something from behind Kai’s head. Two figures had entered the packed cafe—two familiar figures.

Y/N quickly docked their head and tucked their notebook beneath the table, startling Kai. “I-is something wrong?”

Y/N’s voice lowered. “Don’t turn around, but Jungwon and Jay just entered the cafe.” They buried their face in their hands. Of course they’d come here; Jungwon was their field partner, and the swimming compound was right beside this cafe. It’d make sense for him to seek dinner here after fieldwork too.

Kai’s mouth rounded into a silent “oh”, nodding slowly and trying his best to remain calm for Y/N’s sake.

Unfortunately for Y/N, they made the mistake of peaking up again, accidentally making eye contact with Jungwon. At the sight of his co-journalists, he gave a big enthusiastic wave before dragging his friend along to their table.

“Kai hyung, Y/N! Thank goodness you’re here.” Jungwon greeted, grin wide. “The waiter just told us there were no more seats available. Do you mind if we sat with you instead?”

Jay stood rigid beside Jungwon, arms linked with each other. He gave the two a polite smile in greeting. Other than that, his face was practically unreadable—Y/N was hoping they’d figure out how he feels about getting a minor role alongside them, but maybe some answers are not this easily attainable. Still, his unreadability didn’t dismiss the way his hair was parted to the side so neatly, nor the way his slick leather jacket hugged his figure handsomely. Wait, how does an article of clothing hug one’s figure handsomely?

Y/N felt Kai’s expectant eyes on them, waiting for their call. (They were hoping his stare was not because they were noticeably blushing furiously at the moment.)

“Uh… sure! Come take a seat.”

Jungwon clapped gratefully. Right before any movements occurred, Kai swiftly switched to take the space beside Y/N, allowing the newly arrived duo to sit opposite them. It was as if he had read their mind begging for him to block any chance of Jay sitting close to Y/N.

“What did you guys order?” Jay asked diplomatically.

“Kai ordered a salad for two. Perhaps you’d like to take his other half?” Y/N promptly replied, to which Kai raised an eyebrow. They weren’t wrong, but Kai had the appetite for two servings; he very well meant to finish the salad on his own.

“I promise I’ll get you a big bowl of ice cream after to compensate. I just don’t want to have to wait for their orders too.” Y/N rapidly said below a whisper, ensuring that the other two didn’t hear them. Kai gave a thumbs up of content.

“Oh, I do love salad. That’d be nice, thank you.”

“Jay can pay for the entire bill, too.” Jungwon smirked, earning him an eye roll from his hyung. “What about me, though?”

“You can share Y/N’s carbonara! Also made for two.” Kai offered quickly. He lowered back down to Y/N to whisper, “I’ll make up for that with another big bowl of ice cream for you too.”

Y/N could feel their heart thumping in their ears out of nervousness.

“I’m more of a spaghetti person myself but I won’t complain since I’m hungry.”

As if on cue, a waiter arrived with their orders. The group then dined without chatter, busy enjoying their meals (and trying to stay calm in front of their crush, in Y/N’s case).

“Did you receive Yunjin’s message in the group chat?” Jay finally spoke up, breaking the silence.

Y/N nearly choked on their bacon. “O-oh. I haven’t been on my phone for the past hour. What did she say?”

“She already wrote specifications about our characters on the script. We’ll be rehearsing alongside the main cast tomorrow.”

“That’s great! I’ll read through the script later.”

“You guys have the same roles?” Jungwon asked.

“Uh, you could say that.” Jay simply replied, taking a sip from the service water. How on earth did he manage to make that something to swoon over.

Y/N had to slap Kai’s lap to bring them out of their trance, much to his poor surprise. “How are you enjoying the salad, Jay?” Kai spoke out of panic.

“It’s all right. My dad knows how to prepare an even better one though.” It should have sounded like a brag, but it came out more lighthearted. “I can pack extra to rehearsals one day for you to try, Y/N.”

“Coolbeans! I’d be honored to try.”

Jay lips pressed into a smile. “Hang on, I need to use the restroom.” He excused himself from the table, and the moment he was completely out of sight, Kai stifled a laugh.

“Coolbeans?”

Y/N plopped their head on Kai’s shoulder, groaning in embarrassment. “Why does time always seem to slow down whenever I’m in this cafe.”

A cough broke, causing Kai to turn to the scrutinizing gaze of Jungwon. “There’s something going on that I don’t know about.”

Y/N continued to grumble incoherently, forehead still stuck to Kai’s shoulder.

“Do you not care to tell me?”

“None of your business, Yang!”

< prev | masterlist | next >

a/n: kai and y/n can’t just be depicted as chronically online moots-ies forever so i decided to make a written chapter for them 😔🤞 lmk what you think of their dynamic so far 😙

TAGLIST: open!! leave a comment below or send me an ask to be included in this taglist ^^ (if your name is in bold, i can’t tag you)

@kaisdefender @fairysh4mpoo @0rangemilk @beomsbeanie @hanjisungsgirl @luvsoobs @goldennika @spagettae @solarsolarity @hy2ka-i @aestheticsluut @sophie-writingtime @quitbeingawhore @destinylightlove42 @softpia

[milfmorrowind]

TES Summerfest 2024: August 12th - breath or forbidden

this work has also been posted to AO3!

@tes-summer-fest

The fire was crackling, fierce and loud, but Ardalie hardly noticed its warmth. Her attention was captivated almost entirely by the small, weathered book in her hands.

“You alright there, friend?” a cautious voice asked from across the fire. Ardalie glanced up and realized Lucien was looking at her rather nervously.

“I’m fine,” she responded, but it came out much shorter than she intended. Lucien did not look the slightest bit convinced, but he was kind enough to not push the matter further. “Thank you for keeping the fire going,” she said, hoping to move the conversation forward.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all. So long as you can magic us up a firestarter, I’m perfectly content to keep tending the flames for as long as we travel together,” the scholar said lightly.

Ardalie couldn’t help but smile. When she’d first met Lucien he had found him charming, if occasionally irritating and somehow even wetter between the ears than her. Now, she considered him one of her closest friends. Or possibly her only friend, depending on the day and the quality of her mood. She wondered sometimes if she should try to branch out and meet new people, but her options were rather limited in that regard. The Thalmor had been out for her blood ever since they figured out that it was one of their own who had slaughtered her way through Northwatch Keep, and that alone probably eliminated half the province from any “potential new friends” list she might make. On the other hand, there wasn’t a single Stormcloak who trusted her farther than they could throw her, Jarl Ulfric included. The instructors and students at the College were nice enough, but they were eccentric even by Ardalie’s standards, and seemed more concerned with their studies than companionship anyway. Which left her with a handful of Jarls, a few citizens for whom she’d done a favor or two, and Lucien. She supposed it could be worse.

Ardalie placed the book in her lap to the side as Lucien handed her a bowl of soup from the fire. “Probably best to eat it while it’s hot, so you don’t have to actually taste my cooking,” he quipped.

Ardalie chuckled. “I’m sure it’s fine, Lucien.”

Lucien sniffed at his bowl. “You are sure those herbs were safe to eat, correct? It’s not that I don’t trust you, per se, but I would like to make sure that we are completely, without a doubt, absolutely confident before I put them in my mouth.”

“I’m sure,” Ardalie replied. And she was. She’d received perfect marks on her Tamrielic Flora and Fauna examination.

Lucien took a cautious bite. “Not bad. A bit salty. It would probably be better if it was made with fresh meat rather than jerky.”

“Anytime you want fresh meat, you’re welcome to hunt it yourself,” she said. There wasn’t any venom in the statement. Ardalie just didn’t feel that hunting was a very good use of her time when she could just as easily buy preserved food in town.

“On second thought, I’ll stick to the jerky,” Lucien said with a shudder. Ardalie considered pointing out that at this point he’d fought enough bandits, draugr, and giant spiders to make slaughtering a few bunnies easy work, but decided to let it be.

She returned to her stew. Lucien was right that it was a bit salty, but it really wasn’t all that bad. To be fair, just about any hot meal eaten at camp was starting to taste good to her, but Lucien really was a better cook than he thought. She tried to focus her attention on eating her meal, but her eyes kept wandering over to the book next to her. She did not want to think about that right now, but something about it seemed to compel her to look. She risked one more look at the tome and found herself staring eye to eye with Lucien. She quickly looked away, but it was too late.

“Mind if I take a look?” he asked.

Yes. “No.” She slid the book over to him. He turned it over in his hands, seemingly inspecting the spine, the binding, the rather banal skull painted on the front. Ardalie had to stop herself from reaching out and knocking the book out of Lucien’s hands when he actually turned it over and opened it. To her relief, he only flipped quickly through the pages and did not actually read it.

“Well, it’s very old,” he said, handing it back to her. “And it is most certainly a book of necromancy. I’m amazed it’s in such good shape after gods only know how long in that crypt. Were you planning on reading it?”

Ardalie’s fingers tightened around the edges of the book. “Why do you ask?”

Lucien eyed her carefully. “Well, for one thing, you’ve been fiddling with it ever since we made camp. If you weren’t going to read it I’d have expected you to have packed it away with the other treasure you plan to sell. And for another, well, if you don’t mind me saying, friend, you’re currently hanging onto it like you’re afraid someone is going to rip it out of your hands.”

Ardalie reluctantly loosened her grip. He had a point there. I should be honest with him. She did not want to be honest with him, not about this, but she wasn’t getting anywhere on her own. “I’m not sure if I want to read it,” she finally said. “I’m… weighing my options.”

“How so?”

She set her bowl on the ground. “Growing up, I was trained in every aspect of magic imaginable. I could tell you every theory, every scholar, every potion under the sun. I could name all the great Altmer mages and tell you all of their deeds. But we were barely even allowed to discuss necromancy. We were told that it was the foulest, most dangerous practice, and that even the most learned scholars should think twice before studying it. It wasn’t just forbidden, it was immoral, an affront to the gods. I was determined to be a good little soldier for the Thalmor, and an even better mage, so I took it all to heart.

“But then I came to Skyrim. I saw the things my people were doing in the name of the Dominion, and I was horrified. I began to question everything I knew, everything I’d been taught. Eventually, I realized that it wasn’t enough to leave it all behind. I had to fight back against it. So I summoned daedra, I joined the Stormcloaks, I broke into the embassy. Anything to make them angry, to make them pay.”

“That sounds to me like you want to read it,” Lucien said.

Ardalie pulled her legs up to her chest. “A part of me does. But another part of me sees this book as a line, and once I cross it, I can never go back.”

“Just because you read the book doesn’t mean you have to do anything with what’s inside,” Lucien said softly.

“I know. But once I’ve read it, it’s in my head forever. The door has been opened and can’t be closed. I’ve done the unthinkable, and it will mark me forever.”

Lucien paused for a moment. “That is a difficult decision.”

“It’s impossible.”

Lucien reached over and patted on her shoulder. “Well, you don’t have to make it tonight. We’re still at least a day away from Whiterun, so you couldn’t sell it tomorrow even if you wanted to.”

Ardalie felt herself relax a bit. “That’s a good point.”

Lucien smiled. “I do have good ideas from time to time. I am rather well read. I can hold onto it for you, if you’d like. Just to take the pressure off.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Ardalie handed the book over. “Thank you, Lucien,” she said as he carefully placed it in his pack.

“It’s my pleasure, friend.”

[perplexedflower]

SPN Drabbles - 10/14: New Emotions

Fandom: Supernatural.

Category: F/M.

Relationship: Lucifer x Female Reader.

Type: Drabble.

Words: 550.

Chronology: Any season.

~~~~~~~~~~

"I think I'm having a feeling. How do I make it stop?"

I laughed hearing Lucifer's question and promptly cleaned my hands on my apron before exiting the kitchen and walking over to the living room; approaching the couch, I placed myself above his head, which was resting on the top of the sofa, and I set my elbows on each side of it.

"Who says you need to make it stop?" I asked with a bright smile as I looked down at his face, which appeared upside-down to me.

"Me!" He exclaimed with a pout. "I don't like it, it feels weird."

I chuckled while looking into his deep blue eyes, then placed the palms of my hands on his cheeks.

"Well, is it a good feeling or a bad one?"

"I dunno." He shrugged lightly. "I can't really tell the difference..."

I tilted my head a little and smiled lovingly at him.

"Well, don't worry. With time it'll become easier for you to tell feelings apart. You'll get used to it eventually."

I leaned forward and landed a gentle kiss on his lips, as my fingers slowly scratched his beard. I pulled away and when I opened my eyes again, I was faced with his loving smile.

"What's for sure is that I'm definitely getting used to this." He said as he rested a hand on top of mine.

I smiled back at him and was about to head back to the kitchen when he removed my left hand from his face to kiss its palm, making me freeze in place. I felt my cheeks redden as he gradually went up my arm, trailing a line of kisses on my skin.

"Luci..." I started in a quiet voice. "I have to head back to the kitchen, lunch isn't gonna make itself..."

"Eating is useless anyway." He said in-between two kisses. "Skip it."

"It's easy for you to say, you don't need to eat." I scoffed.

"Maybe, but..."

The more he kissed my arm, the more he turned his body backward and towards mine; he was almost facing me when I met with his eyes and read a burning desire in them.

"... Spending some time with me would mean you'd get to eat something anyway..." He sensually murmured against my skin. "It just depends on what type of meat you're hungry for right now..."

I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my chest and the atmosphere in the room becoming heavier; I remained immobile as Lucifer turned his body to me, standing on the couch on his knees. We were face-to-face as he reached out for my waist and pulled me closer to him, before undoing the knot of my apron and letting it fall to the ground. He cupped my face and shook his head slowly as he stared into my eyes with his electrifying blue ones.

"I'm having trouble understanding all the things I've been feeling since we got together, but one thing's for sure, I love you. And I want you."

He pressed his lips against mine and before I even knew it, I was on the couch, sitting on top of him. I pulled away from his kiss and slid a hand under his shirt as he squeezed my waist firmly.

"To hell with lunch."

[teine-mallaichte]

The suggestion

Sam suggests that they escape front he facility

On The Run Master List

Alex sat on the edge of his cot, the sparse room lit only by the cold, artificial light from the overhead fixture. He looked up as the door slid open, revealing Sam. A mixture of relief and apprehension flickered in Alex's grey eyes as he watched Sam enter.

"You shouldn’t be here so often, Sam," Alex murmured, his voice steady but laced with concern. "If they catch you—"

Sam cut them off with a slight smile, stepping closer without hesitation. "Don't worry about that right now… I want to be here, anyway they trained me for infiltration remember, “ he grinned, “Noone will catch me."

Alex’s gaze met Sam's, searching for something unspoken. The air between them was heavy, thick with an unacknowledged tension, but there was also a comfort in it—a hard-earned familiarity that neither of them could ignore.

"I am recovering," Alex said, breaking the silence. He looked down at his hands, the fingers twitching ever so slightly, "I’ll be back in the field soon."

Sam hesitated, the easy smile fading as his expression turned serious. He took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "I’ve been thinking… maybe you don’t have to go back."

Alex blinked, confusion flashing across his face before his features smoothed into a neutral mask. "I do not understand. I have to—"

"No, you don’t," Sam interrupted gently, his voice soft but firm. "Not if we leave."

Alex’s breath hitched at the suggestion, his posture stiffening. The notion of escaping this place seemed almost laughable, but there was something in Sam’s eyes—a glimmer of hope that Alex hadn’t seen in a long time. His fingers twitched again, the familiar control slipping through his grasp.

"Leave?" Alex repeated, his voice quiet. The word felt foreign on their tongue, as if it belonged to someone else. He shook his head, dismissing the thought before it could take root. "How would that even—" He cut himself off, the idea too dangerous to entertain. "They’d find us, stop us."

Sam leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Not if we’re careful," he said, his tone intense, "We could slip out during a mission, make it look like we didn’t survive."

Alex’s mind raced, the implications of Sam’s words sending a shiver down his spine, the cold, sterile walls of his room seemed to close in on him, pressing down with the weight of his conditioning. He had been conditioned to see the facility as the centre of his existence, to accept it as the only certainty in his life. But Sam’s proposal—a chance to break free from this suffocating control—was both a beacon of hope and a source of profound fear.

"Is this one of your bad jokes?" Alex whispered, more to himself than to Sam.

Sam shook their head, a slight smile playing at their lips, but there was no humour in his eyes. "No joke, Alex. I'm serious."

"Sam… That is suicide."

Sam's gaze softened, but the seriousness in their eyes remained. "It's a risk, yes," he admitted quietly, "but… That last mission, I thought I was going to lose you. I… I can't do that again."

Alex's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The cold, sterile walls of their room seemed to close in, heightening the gravity of Sam's proposal. The prospect of leaving the facility—of escaping the only life they had ever known—was both exhilarating and paralysing.

"Sam we have only ever left the facility for missions… What is even out there?" Alex asked quietly, "the colonel showed me pictures once… There was nothing left, the war destroyed everything "

Sam reached out, gently placing a hand on Alex’s shoulder, "what if they lied? What if it was all part of the control over us? There has to be something out there other than ruins and military camps."

Alex remained silent, the weight of Sam’s words pressing heavily on his shoulders. The thought of a world beyond the facility—of a place that might be more than just ruins and war—was almost too much to hope for. His gaze dropped to the floor, fingers twitching uncontrollably as he grappled with the magnitude of the suggestion.

Sam took hold of Alexs hand, "You broke protocol and almost died trying to protect me… If i had followed protocol you would be dead…" he paused, "I… I don't want to stay somewhere that views us as expendable. Somewhere that punishes any display of kindness or humanity."

"We… We risk reconditioning just talking about this," Alex said quietly, his grey eyes staring into Sam's blue with a look of fear that Sam wasn't sure he’d seen in him before.

Sam's grip tightened around Alex’s hand, "I know the risk," he said softly, "I'm not going if you think it's too much of a risk. I'm not going to leave you here. We either leave together, or we stay here together."

Alex's mind raced with conflicting emotions. The sterile room, usually a haven of routine and control, felt suddenly oppressive. The idea of escape had never occurred to him, but now Sam has suggested the idea, he couldn't deny the appeal.

"I…" Asked paused, staring at their interwoven hands, "alright…" he agreed tentatively.

Sam's eyes brightened; he hadn't expected Alex to agree, at least not this easily. He fought down the instinct to hug his friend, but he couldn’t stop the grin that now covered his face.

"Alright," Alex repeated, more firmly this time, though his voice still wavered with uncertainty. "But… how do we even start?"

Sam took a deep breath, the weight of his plan settling into place. "First, you need to recover… Fully recover." Sam hesitated before continuing, "85 also wants to leave."

Alex’s eyes widened "85?" he asked,voice tinged with disbelief. "I didn’t know she… Why would she want to leave?"

"You should hear some of the things they make her do," Sam says quietly, "she isn't exactly happy about loading fellow assets up on stimulants, adrenaline and other such this to force them to keep going during missions," he sighs, "I think we sometimes forget that when the medic assets have a hard time."

Alex absorbed Sam's words with a mix of disbelief and relief. The notion of having another ally, someone else who shared their discontent, was both reassuring and overwhelming. A medic could be helpful, even if some of the facilities ideas of medicine could hurt and hinder as much as they helped.

"85… She’s always seemed so composed," Alex said quietly, "I did not realise that she was struggling too."

Sam nodded, his expression sombre. "She hides it well, but she's tired of the way things are. If we're going to make a move, having her on our side could make a difference."

Alex’s mind whirled with the implications of this new information. The plan to escape was becoming more complex, but also more real. It wasn’t just about them anymore; it was about forming a small rebellion, a team against the oppressive regime of their facility.

"So, what’s the next step?" Alex asked, his voice steadier now, a spark of determination igniting within him.

Sam took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on Alex, "I'm going to gather information. We can meet with 85 as soon as you're out of here and plan properly."

Alex nodded, feeling the gravity of Sam's plan settling over him. The sterile walls of the room seemed to grow more confining with each passing second, but a flicker of hope ignited in his chest. The thought of leaving, of finding a world beyond the facility’s confines, began to take root.

"Understood," Alex said, his voice carrying a new edge of determination. "I will focus on recovering. You… gather information, but stay safe. We need to be cautious."

Sam’s eyes softened with an almost imperceptible smile. "I’ll be careful, I promise. And Alex… thank you for trusting me."

[thisismysecondrodeo]

The Oh Moment

Based on this tumblr post because of course it is. 

Rating: Mature

Ship: Ted/Rebecca

Tags: Reference to kink, prelude to sexual behavior but honestly pretty tame lol, secret relationship

Part 2: Ted | Fic Masterlist

-

It was surprisingly easy for Ted and Rebecca to keep their relationship under wraps at work, much to both of their surprise. Apparently, the way they regularly interacted was enough like flirting that their actual flirting went unnoticed. Ted’s extended Biscuits with the Boss was ignored and if Rebecca was more present at happy hours and team functions everyone chalked it up to the team's recent successes. 

“So,” Ted said, sidling up behind Rebecca outside of Mae’s, “your place or mine?” 

“Ted,” Rebecca admonished playfully, pushing him lightly away from her,  “someone might see…and mine, please.”

Ted grinned as he stepped up next to her, letting his finger drag across the back of her hand. “Don’t you think it’s about time folks found out anyway?” 

Rebecca set off towards hers, Ted meeting her step for step. They had talked about this a little bit and they had always decided that the attention from the press would be too much. But God did she want to hold his hand as they crossed the street to keep him from getting hit by a car, she wanted to steal chips from his plate at dinner and take him as her date to every gala. 

She was quiet until they reached the house, Ted silently worrying he had pushed too far. She slid her key into the door, letting them both in before turning and pinning him against it. She crushed her lips against Ted’s and he was so confused it took him a few moments to catch up. Once he did, he wove his hands into her blonde locks, deepening the kiss. As quickly as Rebecca started it she pulled back. 

“After West Ham.” 

“You serious,” Ted gasped out, unable to contain his grin and Rebecca nodded. Their match against West Ham was next week. 

“I don’t want the news about us to distract. After the game, we can…I don’t know go to dinner or something. Be seen together, no flashy statements or anything.” 

“Darlin’ if you wanted to hold my hand you could have just said that,” Ted teased, lacing their fingers together, and Rebecca rolled her eyes but kissed him sweetly. 

-

Rebecca and Ted had had enough game days together to know that they both needed a little space to get their minds right. Because of that, they spent the night separately and the first time they saw each other would be when Rebecca went to the locker room to greet the team. She grinned to see that Ted was looking bright and cheery, with no sign of a looming panic attack, but everyone knew West Ham came with a lot of pressure. Ted was just finishing his rousing coach speech and he met her eyes as she came into the room, not missing a beat. 

“Alright, boys, that’s enough from me. Time to hear from our fearless leader,” Ted smiled, gesturing for Rebecca to join him, Roy, and Beard at the front of the room. 

Rebecca took a deep breath, feeling the coiled tension of the room, “I don’t want you all thinking about Rupert. Or Nate. Or even winning. Not for your coaches, and not for me. I want you all to win because you can, because you’re all just that talented. For each other.” 

Isaac stood and gestured all the men to the middle so they could put their hands together as the coaches and Rebecca stepped to the side to give them their moment. 

“For each other on 9! 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, FOR EACH OTHER!” As usual, the counting was…interesting, but the energy was infectious. The men headed for the door and Rebecca watched as Beard gave out head nods, Roy slapped backs, and Ted... slapped butts? Her eyebrows raised, having no idea that a smack on the arse was a tunnel tradition. She supposed she usually left first, to beat the boys out of the locker room and to the owner’s box so she'd never seen it. She chuckled as she watched the last of the boys whoop and holler and get their butts smacked as they headed towards the field, Beard and Roy following behind.

She made a mental note to ask Ted about it later as she crossed in front of him to head out of the locker room. And then she heard as much as felt a sharp swat to her own butt.

“Oh,” she chirped in surprise and turned to see a mischievous glint in Ted’s eye. Her face flushed, her mouth slightly slack.

Oh.

“Sorry about that, Boss,” Ted said, not sorry at all, his voice so deep that Rebecca had the sudden feeling that he was nearly hypnotizing her, her eyes locked on his and her feet rooted in place. He moved past her toward the pitch, “Once I get a’swinging it can be hard to stop.” And then the motherfucker winked. 

Up in the owner’s box, Rebecca was clearly distracted. Her eyes were on the pitch, sort of, but as the ball moved down the grass her eyes didn’t. She wasn’t sure of the score, or what Keeley had just asked her. Ted’s hand on her arse had thrown her for a loop. She had never been spanked before, it was never something she thought she would like. She was intimidating enough that no one she’d slept with had ever asked or tried, but now…she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She wanted to feel Ted’s palm against her again, wanted the sting that brought her sharply to attention, made her present. She shifted to try to feel the spot against her seat but the sensation had already faded. 

“Babe, are you alright,” Rebecca looked around and realized Keeley was now standing. Richmond had scored and she hadn’t even noticed. 

“Fine! Fine, sorry I was just… lost for a second.”

“Well come back because we’re fucking kicking Rupert’s arse,” Keeley yelled in Rupert’s general direction and Rebecca gave her a small smile. 

AFC Richmond beat West Ham 3-2 and Rebecca was the first person out of her seat to head down to the pitch. Keeley tried to keep up with her long-legged stride and both of them left their heels somewhere near the locker room to move even faster. Keeley found Roy first, was swept into the group of cheering men and into Roy’s arms and Rebecca craned her neck to find Ted, who was shaking hands with Nate and Rupert. She ran for him and he saw her coming as Nate and Rupert turned away, jogging to meet her in the middle of the pitch. He pulled her into a hug, chaste and professional, but when he released her she fisted his sweater and dragged his lips to hers. 

The crowd around them went wild and Rebecca knew they must be up on the screen but she didn’t stop, just tilted her head as Ted’s hands found her waist. Finally separating, Ted’s eyed her with joy and confusion. 

“Well, that wasn’t what we discussed,” Ted laughed, referencing the plan of being seen in public and maybe holding hands. “What was that for?”

Rebecca gave Ted a pointed look, one that he’d become incredibly familiar with over the past few weeks, “I’ll tell you at home.” Ted grinned and took her hand, waving at the crowd as they made their way back to the team. 

Ted ->

[xarrixii]

Chapter_21 : "Gravel" ━━━━━━━━━━━━━

CW: previous chapter | beginning | masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ▼

“Is this really necessary?” Alph asked as the person held a measuring tape against them. “I’ve never needed the suits before, so,”

“You may have passed the safety tests with flying colors, but you have yet to put any of that knowledge to good use.” Their dad had his arms crossed, Ty doing the same with a really terrible expression of fake anger. “You will have to start putting the suits on, especially once we get a pair fitted to your size. No more excuses that none of them fit right.”

“But they terrify little kids,” Alph argues.

“But they keep us safe.”

“Oh, come on, you’ve met Urban.”

“What you’re trying to do is noble, Al. It really is. But our job is to keep as many people safe as possible as fast as we can. Changing the system is something else entirely. That’s what voting is for.”

Alph sits down when the person finishes measuring their arm length. “Yeah, well, I’m outvoted by a bunch of kineticist easygoers.”

“It does make it more difficult to make change that way. But nothing would ever need to change if it was easy to change it.” Alph’s dad ruffled Ty’s hair. “That came out a little wrong. I don’t think that we should never need to change because everything is perfect as it is. I think that we should always need to change because it’s the right thing and it needs to be done. That doesn’t make sense either.”

“It’s, fine. I get it, Dad.” Alph is visibly cringing and stands up to go sit beside their dad instead. “If stuff was always easy, it wouldn’t ever be as powerful when a difference is made.”

“Something along those lines.” Their dad anxiously moves his leg up and down. “I’m sorry about your mother, Al. I should’ve done something about her sooner.”

“Don’t⸺I mean, she’s an…” Alph looks for how out of earshot where Ty ran off to is. “...alternate name for a donkey. But she seems to have… some sort of reasoning. Not very good reasoning, so far, I hope she hasn’t been paying people to lie to me the whole time.”

“I once thought she had good reasoning once too. Then she bought an apartment and said to stop talking to her or she’d stop paying rent, and I’m guessing she figured out what wine tasted like.”

It took Alph a bit to realize their dad led them off of the original conversation. “That’s hard to imagine.”

“It’s a nice place, right? The one she’s got you staying at?”

“It’s good enough. Wish I had more time to see Ty.”

“Man I need a beer. You want one?” Their dad lightly hit them with an empty can. Ty was making thunderstorm noises over a mini version of the city built with toy bricks.

Alph shrugs.

“I’ll get ya one.”

“Can we go to the playground? Al. Al. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa⸺”

“Yeah, yeah. Bit of a long walk, though.” Alph was getting lost in thought. They were no stranger to the way people would immediately start looking when Ty acted like the little rascal he is and practiced being careful with electrokinesis by shooting sparks at rocks.

Ty waved Alph off. “Long walk long shmauck. Dad says you need more exercise anyway.”

“Do not,” Alph mumbles to themselves.

“Bet!” Ty yells.

“What if I do bet?”

“I bet I can make it there faster than you can.”

“That right? No cheating,”

“No promises!” Ty immediately takes off running forward.

“Wait!” Alph spots someone dash off a bench. “Ty!”

Screaming ensued around the park. Before Alph knew it, their foot was in the jaw of the person that had gone to grab Ty. They collided along the gravel pathway. “Al? Al what was⸺”

“You’re alright?” Alph put a hand on Ty’s shoulder and gripped a little harder than they would have liked, snapping a flame to life in their other hand. How’d that thing Urban talked about go again? Heat, heating up the bloodstream? Damn it. “Ty, I need you to call the cops. You know the number?”

“Yeah.”

Alph slid Ty their phone.

“What’s happening?”

Fuck, fuck Alph couldn’t just ignore this question. “You, you know that game that’s designed to be difficult? That you had to ask me to help you beat?”

“The one with the guys in black that ran at you really weirdly?”

“Yes. I need you to do what I say, alright? Just like when you had to beat that game.”

“Okay. We’re gonna make it to the playground, right?”

“Yeah.”

The guy had scrambled up, saw the fire, and took off the other way. There were way too many other kids here. Alph tuned out the sound of Ty on the phone. Protecting as many people as possible. As soon as possible. But they can’t just forget about the one they leave behind⸺

“Keep everyone else safe here,” Liam’s voice came out of nowhere, and Alph spun to find him. “Hate these guys with a passion.”

Next thing Alph knew, the guy running toward some random kid was swiftly punched in the face, connecting with a thick tree. The kidnapper grabs a knife from their pocket that’s wrenched from their hand by what Alph could only assume is telekinesis at work. It smashes into their skull and they lay quiet.

See any others?

Not yet⸺ Alph is quickly thrown into the gravel, gray dust rising in a fit. Alph pulls a knee into the guy’s groin and rolls them off.

“GET OFF!” Ty screams, Alph’s phone crashing to the ground.

“Ty, remember what Dad said about self-defense⸺” Alph is pulled back into the dirt when they try getting up. Liam, god damn it!

Alph juts their leg into the guy’s skull like an arrow, hearing static and an adult yell before Ty lands back on the ground. The guy fighting Alph backs up, holding their head and starting away at a run. Something shoves itself uncomfortably far into the guy’s arm as they’re sent rolling into a tree. Liam catches it in his hand. It’s a pop-out coffee lid. Of course.

The amount of dust that’s been kicked into the air almost makes it look like the trees had started burning.

“Do you have a nut?” Alph exasperates as they get up, grabbing hold of Ty again. The sucker that’d picked him up was definitely unconscious. Bit overboard.

“Like one of the bolts?”

“No, like, a flammable tree nut.”

Liam shakes his head, but pulls out a pencil. “This work?”

“If you throw it hard enough at that van before they get in.”

Liam lets Alph set the pencil on fire among the wailing sirens, looking at them. “You ready?”

“Go for it.”

The pencil is sent hurtling at the vehicle, exploding the engine on contact with a little help from Alph. The person that had gone to hop in it stumbled back. There were shouts coming from behind a line of trees. Water splashed onto the guy’s feet when they took off the other way, frozen over a second later.

“Now, kid, this is like a super spy movie, alright?” Liam looked at Ty, holding out a pinky. “I was never here. If the common good guys knew, it’d make the mission a lot more complicated and more public, which would jeopardize it.”

“I get it.” Ty pretends to zip his lips closed before shaking Liam’s finger. Liam then disappears from the scene with a smile, leaving nothing behind. Ty turns to Alph. “You know a TE/TK???”

Alph chuckles, picking up their phone, examining all of the new cracks. “Tons of fun stories for later.” Most of which would have to be cleverly crafted lies. Would need to think them up first. Meant a lot of stalling. They cleared their throat, watching as a squad of officers bound hands behind backs. Hand binders, with reasonable justification. It’d switch to plain handcuffs later depending on the identities and records on these people.

Thanks. Alph hopes and doesn’t hope Liam hears it at the same time.

Don’t mention it. Seriously. Those are the kinds of organizations that are gonna start popping up the more Cinder has to put resources toward Storm. They were pretty small when I left originally and warned Cinder about it, hopefully we’ve been keeping them down good enough.

You used to be in Storm?

Yeah. Weird kinetic manipulation, army creating nonsense. Once I realized their plan of overthrowing the system involved taking over the world, I ran.

“Al,” Chief Kepler was walking down from the street, winding water back into a flask on his belt. “And little Ty. I’m assuming most of the de-escalation was you?”

“Chief. None of them displayed any kinetics if they had them.”

“That’s good to hear. Makes my job easier. Where were you all heading off to?”

“The playground!” Ty realizes suddenly. “Oh, but, everyone probably ran away… You missed it!! Alph went like woosh and kicked the guy in the face, and then another one came up and tackled them like grrrrrggrh, and Alph kicked them in the face too, and then a guy grabbed me, and I went like zap! and they fell over! Then Alph noticed them trying to get away, so they sent fire to go shppplooosh to their ugly van!”

“Did they, now?” Kepler gives off a hearty laugh, taking off his hat and holding it against his chest.

“Yeah!! I didn’t know there were so many ways to kick people in the face. Can you join our race? We were going to see who could get to the playground the fastest before all the guys in black started jumping in.”

“Tell you what, I have some things to finish up here, but I can meet you down there after. That sound good?”

Ty nods and punches Alph, starting to run off.

“I gotta,” Alph laughs and bounces into a run after Ty.

Kepler waves Alph off, turning and walking back to the clutter of dispatched officers. Ty was getting too fast for this.

“Wait up!”

“No way!” Ty calls after.

“Cheater!”

next chapter

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ▲ missing a content warning? let me know

man i sure do hope liam can resemble a weird dad guy more than he already does

he's literally not even a father

yet

[nova-dracomon]

Hello, big fan of your content, and I hope this isn’t the stupidest question, but I just want to know so I can hopefully know myself; my body better.

How does one figure out whether their body is a system? Is there a sort of process // awakening that sorta happens with therianthropy and the like? Are there any sort of “dead giveaways” that happen that reveal a system instead of a singlet? How to rule out something as an inner voice vs a headmate or something of the sort?

I am eternally confused and potentially misguided, but also would appreciate any clarification. Apologies if I offended or misunderstood any terms, but I just don’t know right now.

It's not a stupid question at all! It's something a lot of us struggle with because it can be difficult to discern. Especially, if like us, in the beginning our host actively worked to suppress everyone else.

We've met ppl who say they've always known, others have one event that just makes everything click into place, and we just kinda slid down a gradual slope to acceptance and actually talking it out. Every system is different and it's impossible to give a one-size-fits-all answer.

So, we'll do the next best thing and talk about how we personally experience plurality. This is by no means gospel or the trueTM way to be a system.

The biggest difference between headmates vs inner monologue vs a character we daydream about is headmates talk back--they're sentient. They have their own thoughts, desires and feelings where a daydream character doesn't and only repeats what our inner voice tells them to--not unlike a remote control toy.

Larka (Host): I experience all my thoughts as words. If I get hungry, in my head I'll 'hear' a thought version of my voice say "I'm hungry" instead of like, envisioning a sandwich. When I first started hearing my headmates, I'd hear another voice alongside my inner voice. It was unprompted, didn't sound like me, and had an "energy" signature attached to it. Everyone here as a unique one that accompanies anything they say--so even if the way their voice sounds fluctuates, we'll know who spoke.

Communication can also be done by sharing emotions. Even if you want something, if someone else doesn't, it can cause conflicting feelings and indecisiveness. Something we've always said about ourselves is that, it doesn't matter how we feel in the moment, because our opinion is so likely to change anyway.

An example of communication: Larka's speeding again. She's feeling good because she loves driving fast and jamming out to MCR. Thorn is annoyed because this happens everyday. Larka's busy thinking about how much she loves Helena. As a stop sign comes into view, there's a sudden shared bolt of discontent laced with anxiety followed by the phrase. "You better do a FULL stop this time." Larka does a full stop.

One particular piece of media that was the biggest turning point for us being "oh shit that might be us" is I am Dog(s). It's a semi-autobiographical narrative that follows a transwoman realizing that she is also plural and a therian. We highly recommend checking it out! If nothing else, it's an easy and fun read.

[cythena]

like a good mommy should

pairing: sabito x fem!reader x giyuu tomioka

prompt: sabito calls giyuu out on their mutual crush

cw/tw: stepcest, cheating, age gap (reader and husband), oral (f receiving), a wattpad draft

sabito was over so much it was like he had a second home. he and giyuu have been close since they were in kindergarten. when giyuu's parents divorced, his father found another woman to be his wife.

sabito made it very clear he thought giyuu's stepmom was attractive to the point of reminding giyuu every chance he got.

"giyuu, your mom still married to your dad?" sabito joked to giyuu as they watched a movie. y/n and his father had left grocery shopping a few hours ago.

"you're weird," giyuu said focusing back on the movie.

"no, but about y/n, don't tell me you haven't thought about her too."

giyuu turned his head towards him. "what do you mean?"

sabito smirked, "you have to be kidding me. we've all done it, kyojuro, tengen, even sanemi."

giyuu's blank expression didn't waver. sabito pushed himself up against the couch. giyuu picked up the remote to pause the movie expecting sabito to rant.

"giyuu."

he realized he had zoned out on sabito. he wasn't even blinking.

"so tell me, be completely honest, you think y/n's hot too."

giyuu could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. his father married an attractive young woman of course he knew that. he wasn't as accepting of his feelings towards his stepmother of 3 years as sabito was. it was embarrassing and he was ashamed.

"i...yeah..." he mumbled hoping sabito didn't catch what he said.

"see, what was so hard about that? i bet you've thought about this since you've met her but i have too so there's no shame." sabito threw his head back over the couch pillows with a chuckle. his lavender eyes dropped down to giyuu's blushed face. his lips curved into a smirk. "my next question won't be as easy as the first."

giyuu scrunched his eyebrows.

"have you ever jerked off to your mom?"

giyuu didn't even blink in disbelief or surprise. he was just frozen. the answer to sabito's question would be yes. what would sabito even do with this information? it's probably just some more teasing material anyways. sabito's expression was dead serious. he waited for giyuu's response already knowing what it was by the length he took to speak.

his blue eyes fell to his lap. "yes," he sighed. it was painful to admit.

sabito clapped his hands and leaned over the middle cushion between them.

"you're so embarrassed it's hilarious. it's like i haven't done the same, besides i'm the only one who knows if you decide to keep it that way."

both their ears perked up hearing the sound of the car pulling up in front of their house. they shot up and ran to the front door. giyuu's father kissed your forehead. you held grocery bags down to your elbows. the man tugged on the loops to some bags but you shook your head. he ran back into the car once you were on the sidewalk.

"hey y/n!" sabito called. he bounced over the pavement in his crew socks. giyuu's movements stuttered as he remembered the conversation he was just having with sabito.

"need a hand with these bags?" the peach haired boy slid the plastic bags off your arm. giyuu also made his way over to you but much slower. he didn't speak except for his simple "hi y/n" while he took the rest of the bags off your other arm.

"thanks so much," you smiled and opened the door for them. the white lighting of the entrance illuminated giyuu's red cheeks that weren't visible in the dark outside. he hung his head so the strands of black would hide his face.

sabito and giyuu placed the bags on the kitchen island and began pulling them down to see what they bought. it was a mixture of ingredients and snacks sabito would always see in their pantry.

"where's dad?" giyuu asked.

"he had a call and had to go back to work, some emergency. he'll be back really late but don't worry i will take care of dinner. i can make something or i can order it for you."

sabito swung open the pantry door to start helping you put away the groceries. giyuu stared at the counter hoping sabito would keep answering your questions and you wouldn't ask him anything.

"we wouldn't wanna make you work anymore for today, so chinese sounds good."

you wiped the counters. “how is tanjiro doing? i haven’t seen him or nezuko in a while?” you hummed.

"y-yeah, tanjiro's fine." he cursed himself for stuttering.

sabito handed you your phone sitting on the counter. just as it unlocked you looked up at giyuu. You leaned over and placed the back of your hand over his forehead. you retracted it with a new worried expression.

"giyuu are you feeling sick?"

he shook his head. "i'm fine."

"oh, you feel warm. does the same order as last time work or do you want something different?" you began typing on your phone. sabito looked over your shoulder.

"yeah, that's good," he answered for them both.

sabito placed the final juice in the fridge.

"thanks, sabito," you watched him clean the bags off the counter.

"it wasn't a problem y/n. now that you're back, giyuu and i were just watching that movie you really like. it'd be nice for you to join us."

"yeah, i'd be happy to."

sabito smirked. he leaned against your shoulder. you didn't think anything of it. sabito rested his hand on your shoulder while they walked to the couch. you sat in the middle between the boys. ten minutes into the movie the doorbell rings. you stood up to get it. sabito pulled you back down.

"we'll go get it," he beckoned giyuu towards him.

you relaxed back into the couch.

sabito opened the door and took the bag. he leaned against the door.

"what do you want?" the dark haired boy mumbled.

"just follow my lead out there."

giyuu kept as far away from you as he could. sabito, gradually increased your contact throughout the movie. the hand on your shoulder became an arm on your waist. giyuu could tell you weren't completely bothered by it.

"it's so weird y/n. you're so sweet and you're already like a mother but you're so young. you're really pretty too, i'd definitely be your friend if we didn't know each other," he whispered. sabito pulled you closer to his chest. his head was just above your shoulder.

the living room was dark besides the tv.

"y/n, it's actually been killing me, so i must ask how old are you?"

"oh- um, i'm 24."

"that's only a three year difference. y/n, i wonder is your husband satisfying you?"

"well, of course. i love him," your voice faltered.

"of course you do and i'm sure he loves you too. you're such a smart woman and so many other things." his other arm trailed down to your thigh underneath the blanket.

"sabito," you squeaked.

"and you're a really good mommy to giyuu, sometimes it even feels like your mine. don't you want to be a good mommy to your stepson?"

you nodded.

"he's embarrassed, he thinks you're really pretty too but he's getting nervous. i can tell you're nervous too, you have a crush on your stepson don't you? it's okay, it's not a bad thing," he whispered. he brought your head closer to his. "we'll have to keep it a secret though right?"

you nodded again making sabito smile. he carefully pressed his lips to yours. your body visibly tensed up. sabito's hand roamed your lower back, rolling up your shirt. giyuu's breathing paused. sabito opened one eye, calling giyuu over.

giyuu's movements were hesitant. he forced his legs to move him towards his stepmom. sabito pulled away from your puffy lips. you looked down, you began to feel the shame sinking in. sabito cupped your cheeks again. giyuu's chest pressed against your back.

"it's okay, you're not doing anything wrong. you're such a nice mommy to giyuu. now turn around and look at your stepson."

you obeyed. you sat on your knees looking at giyuu. he faced the tv once again too flustered. you reached your hand out and held his bicep.

"giyuu," you called.

"you've always been really good to me, y/n. i've always liked you.” his confession made your face hot and your pussy twitch.

you inched herself closer until you were next to him. giyuu's hand moved to your thigh. sabito rolled his foot around waiting for giyuu to do something.

giyuu kissed your cheek, his thumb rubbing your skin through the fabric of your jeans.

"i'm sorry. i know dad hasn't been doing his best with you," he said pressing more kisses along your jawline and cheek. "you tell kocho's mom about it on the phone. there's nothing wrong with you but it's unfortunate how you choose my father instead."

his friend leaned back now letting giyuu's rush of confidence and adrenaline control the scene momentarily. he took the time to tug the band of his sweatpants lower.

giyuu's hands moved on their own, everywhere he knew he shouldn't touch. he dropped he cupped your chin, softly, of course, he would die before hurting you. his body tingled, forcing him to tilt his head into your lips. he could shut his eyes now.

he took in everything about you and savored it. it was like being warmed by a fire inside his chest. this is what his father felt on multiple occasions.

he wanted to know if you felt the same right now. you were older and more experienced. you were the idea of perfect to him and everyone he could think of. he lied to himself. there's no way he could do this. sabito could, he's so confident and it was his idea in the first place.

sabito waited for them to pull away. he rolled your shirt up occasionally pausing to feel your skin. you leaned back into his chest. giyuu took care of your jeans, unbuttoning them with shaky hands and praying you weren't watching at him. he slid your pants down and tossed them onto the chair across the room.

you stretched your arms out lazily reaching for any part of giyuu. your eyes shut as you leaned into sabito's kisses. giyuu followed his friend's lead again. he found your lips once again while sabito focused on your jaw and neck.

your underwear snapped against your cunt. sabito's finger hooked the material. he tugged it down to your mid thigh where giyuu continued sliding it off your legs. he balled it up to fit in the pocket of his sweatpants. he dropped his head between your thighs, large hands locking your knees in place. he shoved the nervous feeling in his stomach to the side. sabito's thumbs rolled around your nipples, squeezing your chest with his other fingers.

your head fell back into sabito's frame as giyuu's tongue circled your clit. sabito stroked your cheek with his thumb as he watched you fall apart on his friend’s tongue. giyuu's tongue darted in and out of your folds. he suckled on your clit, fingers spreading you apart just for him.

"has his father done this for you?" sabito asked, opting to refer to your husband as giyuu's father. it made the whole act feel more scandalous than it already was.

you shook your head. sabito sighed and continued playing with your breasts. he liked the feeling of your hard nipples between the pads of his fingers. you tangled your hands in giyuu's hair.

"giyuu...hah...i'm gonna cum..."

he licked another stripe on your cunt. his knuckles reached into your pussy, soaking up your juices. you pushed him down, wanting him to push you off the edge already. sabito held your head in place as well. he wanted you to know exactly who made you cum like this.

you cried his name, thighs squishing his head and the coil in your stomach finally snapping. sabito laughed. giyuu hovered over your heaving chest. he pressed another kiss against your lips.

"where do you want her?" he panted, eyes flickering towards sabito. sabito looked at you for your opinion.

"b-back here, sabito, please," you begged so sweetly of course he had to oblige.

"you heard her giyuu. here." sabito pushed you onto your hands and knees and giyuu laid underneath you. he had the perfect view of your curves from behind you like this. both of their cocks were leaky and stiff. giyuu accidentally teased your clit as he searched your hole.

sabito leaned over your back, "you ever been fucked here?"

you frowned. "my husband never tried, too scared, but i'll be fine."

you make him laugh. he palmed your ass soothingly. "no prep? i wonder if mommy's been waiting for this."

your breath hitched and they both noticed. sabito tapped his cock on the plush of your ass before sinking into you. his hips slowly met your skin. giyuu pushed his own cock into your hole. the sudden warmth shocked both of them.

"you're turning your son into a virgin, can't you see?" sabito mocked giyuu's face.

"look at you, you're barely holding on," he retorted.

"guess that's true. what can i say mommy's ass is so nice. she's so sweet for letting us fuck her, isn't that right?" he held onto your hips as he set his pace. you let your chest hit giyuu's. you giggled. your head rested below giyuu's chin. you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"are you gonna cum, mommy?" the word felt odd on giyuu's tongue when you were his mother—more than sabito's at least. maybe that's why his friend could say it with so much confidence. it felt nice as well. he liked seeing you like this. he liked hearing his name cried from your lips.

"please...cum inside...both of you..."

he liked hearing that too. you're his mom, and he loves you. you've treated him so well for years. he wouldn't dare defy such a simple request from you. your skin felt raw when they were done. it was getting late and your husband should be on his way back. they helped you clean yourself up.

they both hated to admit it but, the sight of you greeting giyuu's father at the door hurt. giyuu just wished he found you first. he didn't know about sabito but his feelings for you were more than physical. he really wished you were his.

[bensolosbluesaber]

Returning a Favor (Zemo x Reader fic)

TFATWS Ep. 4 Spoilers!!

Summary: When your old friend, Sam Wilson, needs your help in Riga you drop everything and go. You knew they broke Baron Helmut Zemo out of jail, but you didn't expect to bond with the villain. (AKA: I thought getting hit in the face by the Shield would at least leave a bruise. Here's how that would go down with a fourth person.)

CW: Blood, wounds, some creepy behavior (not from Zemo), a few Y/N inserts

No smut yet, just cute cuddles and taking care of each other. Maybe smut in the future though! Let me know if you want a Part 2 or added to a tag list for potential future fics! I think the reader can be any gender; I tried to write it that way and be inclusive, but please tell me if I messed up!

If you know me in real life, no you don't:) I write most of my fics on @aurora521 and write on AO3 and fanfiction.net under the same name. Please don't come for me about finding Zemo attractive.

Hope you enjoy!

---

Returning a Favor

Meet me in Riga. -S

That was the text you received from Sam Wilson, your old military friend, yesterday. And now here you are, outside the Riga airport walking toward Sam in traditional undercover superhero attire- a baseball hat and sunglasses.

“Thanks for coming,” he greeted. “We have a little problem.”

“Is his name Baron Helmut Zemo by chance?” You asked, following him to a jet black sports car.

You were very aware of just what type of trouble Sam was getting himself into since you, a SWORD agent, still had access to all kinds of classified information.

“See for yourself,” Sam muttered, gesturing to the back door of the car and climbing in the driver's seat himself.

You hesitated for a moment, then opened the door and slid into the back. And yes, Zemo was there, lounging back with legs spread. He’s wearing a long coat with fur lining, a deep purple shirt, black pants, and shiny leather shoes. He nods to you and smirks ever so slightly. Bucky Barnes, who you had only heard about but recognized immediately, turns from his spot in the front seat and smiles at you.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Y/N,” he says.

“And I you,” you respond.

Sam pulls out of the parking lot with a screech of tires. The ride is mostly silent, Sam and Bucky bickering occasionally. That made you smile, knowing that as much as Bucky annoyed Sam, this was the type of relationship he craved. Zemo watched you the entire drive, sizing you up.

The home they’re staying at is obviously the Baron's. He’s comfortable there, leaning against the counters, rifling through cabinets, lounging on the couch.

“So what am I doing here?” You finally asked.

The three men interact easily, and either Sam or Bucky is always watching Zemo. There’s no real need for a fourth person to get involved, at least not in your mind.

“Someone needs to babysit the Baron,” Sam explained with an annoyed sigh.

Zemo shrugged with a smirk so innocent it’s sinister. He’s still wearing that ridiculous coat.

“The two Avengers can’t handle him?”

“I believe your friends find it challenging to be around me,” Zemo answered for Sam.

“You shot a man in the head yesterday!” Sam snapped. “You antagonize Bucky at every turn. Forgive us for needing a break from whatever is happening in your fucked up head.”

Zemo tilts his head as if agreeing with everything Sam had just said.

“Anyway,” Bucky interrupted. “We have a lead on Karli. You can sleep off some jet lag while we’re gone, but starting tonight it’s your turn to keep track of him.”

You settled into a small bedroom. The moment your head hit the pillow, you fell asleep. At home it’s nearly ten at night; here it’s midday.

The trio is back all too soon, heralded by a slam of a door, and you force yourself to wake up to adjust to the time change as rapidly and effectively as possible. As you open the door to the living room, Bucky is stalking toward Zemo. He grabs the teacup from Zemo’s hand and hurls it against the wall.

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” Bucky growled, staring at Zemo with an unnerving glint in his eyes.

“Take it easy. Don’t engage him,” Sam jumped up and grabbed Bucky’s arm. “He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.”

Bucky’s face softened slightly. Zemo stops tilting his head.

“Let me make a call,” Sam says and walks away.

“You want some cherry blossom tea?” Zemo offers Bucky with a mocking tone.

“No. You go ahead,” Bucky hissed, and after a moment of staring, he followed Sam out of the room.

You had watched Zemo for that entire exchange, noticed the slightest flinch and hint of fear when Bucky had grabbed that cup. The moment the other two men are gone and Zemo thinks he’s alone, he pours himself another cup. His hand is steady, but he draws a sharp, unsteady breath.

You move out of the room, and Zemo looks up at you from his spot on the couch. Without a word, you walk into the kitchen, taking a roll of paper towels and carefully picking up the shattered glass.

“I can do that,” Zemo says, speaking directly to you for the first time.

His voice is calm, accent thick.

“It’s alright,” you answer, then gasp sharply as a piece slices your pointer finger from tip to palm. “Fuck.”

You set the bloody piece with the pile of glass and hold a paper towel to your hand. You used the other hand to wipe tea off the wall and floor before picking up the glass piled on a paper towel and placing it in the trash, carefully tucked in other garbage.

“Let me.”

Zemo’s voice behind you makes you jump. You eye him for a moment wondering if there is some ulterior motive, some way he could hurt you or hold you hostage. Nothing comes to mind, not with Sam and Bucky so close, so you hold out your bleeding hand. He clicks his tongue at the wound.

When he takes your hand in his, his fingers are soft and warm. He moves your wound under a faucet and lets water run, rinsing the blood down the sink. He squeezes the wound a bit, and you wince as it begins to bleed more.

“We bleed to clean our wounds. It is the body’s way of protecting itself,” he says and presses a towel to your finger as he shuts off the water. “Ironic isn’t it. The very thing meant to protect us from future danger, often kills us first.”

“I’m not here to debate the ethics of superheroes with you.”

“Hold that,” he lets go of your hand and opens another cabinet. “I know how I feel about enhanced humans. There is nothing for me to debate.”

Zemo takes your hand back in his. You watch his face as he works. He uses his mouth to remove the wrapping from a butterfly bandage. The bleeding has slowed, and he uses the bandage to pull your torn skin back together. The cut isn’t terrible, certainly not the worst injury you’ve ever had, but it will scar. He adds two more strips, then places an absorbent pad over it and wraps it all in gauze.

“When we get back, I’ll change that for you.”

“I’ll hope you don’t get killed then,” you offer with a grateful smile.

He doesn’t respond but gestures to you to join on the couch. You do, keeping what you feel is a safe distance between the two of you. Zemo hands you a cup of warm tea, but as you grab it, he doesn’t let go. Your undamaged fingers brush his for a long moment and he chuckles.

“Promise not to take after your friend James? I quite like this tea set.”

Your eyebrows knit together as he smiles at his own joke and finally surrenders the cup to you. That’s the last words you two exchange, and when Bucky and Sam return ready for the next part of the mission, they find the two of you sitting in silence sharing a pot of tea.

___

When the three men returned, Sam and Bucky held an unconscious Zemo between them. You jumped off the couch, the book you had been reading discarded, and let them lay Zemo down.

“What happened?”

“John Walker,” the two men answered in the same disgusted tone.

You leaned over Zemo, finally seeing the blood and bruise on his right temple.

“This one disappeared for a few minutes, shot Karli-”

“Didn’t kill her,” Sam interrupted, sounding relieved.

Much like Sam, you sympathized with Karli’s motives if not her methods. And much like Sam, you were glad she hadn’t died.

“Then Walker knocked him out with the shield,” Bucky finished.

There was no jab at Sam this time for which you were grateful.

“Which is the only useful thing he did,” Sam added. “Zemo destroyed the rest of the serum, so right now he’s above Walker in my book.”

You looked down at Zemo, blood had dripped down his face and neck, though most of it was dried now. His eyelids twitched as he slept.

“Are you two okay?” You asked as you walked toward the bathroom.

“Fine. We ditched Walker, but we’ll need to get out of here as soon as we figure out what to do with Karli,” Sam answered, collapsing on the couch with a heavy sigh.

You dampened a washcloth in the bathroom and on your way back to the living room, grabbed the first aid kit Zemo had used on you earlier.

“What are you doing? He’ll be fine,” Bucky muttered.

He was sitting next to Sam now.

“Returning a favor,” you answered as you knelt at Zemo’s side.

You dabbed at the drying blood with the cloth, wiping it off his cheek, out of his hair. Somehow the coat came out unscathed. Sam and Bucky were talking about something behind you, but you were entirely focused on the unconscious man.

Zemo had a handsome, aristocratic face, and he walked like royalty, like he was untouchable. This was evidence he wasn’t.

You moved to the actual wound next. The cloth was soft, unreasonably so. A large hand wrapped around your wrist, squeezing tightly. You inhale sharply and shift your gaze to Zemo’s hand then his eyes. When your eyes met his, he seemed to relax, releasing you and letting his hand fall at his side.

“Apologies,” he grunted, mouth twitching with pain.

“It’s alright,” you answer calmly, very aware that the other men had stopped talking and were fixated on a potential threat. “Turn your head please.”

You put a hand on his cheek and turned him to face you to get a better look at the wound that was still seeping slowly.

“The new Captain America might force me to reconsider my stance on superheroes. I would enjoy seeing Sam and James have a go at him,” Zemo said as you prod the wound.

You wiped the cut with antiseptic, and Zemo hissed a bit at that but said nothing. Then, just like he had done to you, you placed three butterfly bandages on the cut. It wasn’t deep, just long and jagged.

“You’re my new favorite,” he joked with a little grin.

You laughed and walked to the kitchen for some ice. There were no packs, so you grabbed a bag of frozen peas, wrapped them in a towel and set it gently on Zemo’s temple.

“I can’t have you dying when I need this changed tonight,” you said, holding up a finger.

When you turned around, Sam and Bucky had both stretched out on the couch. They both wore annoyed expressions that Zemo got a whole couch and they got one to share. Bucky bumped Sam’s foot with his own, much to your amusement and Sam’s annoyance. He kicked his partner back, and you decided not to interrupt their little couples spat. Instead, you move to sit on the ground.

Zemo grabbed your wrist again, this time gently. He tucked his legs up, folding them into a V, and motioned you to share his couch. And you did, sitting in the same spot you had earlier, this time near his feet still clad in shiny black leather shoes.

“Hey, you two,” Sam called. “What’s this cozy little couch situation going on here?”

“You two could have a cozy little couch situation too if you’d just talk to each other,” Zemo shot back.

He didn’t even look at Sam, just held the frozen vegetables to his face, eyes closed.

“Y/N?” Zemo asked after a moment. “Can you get me an Advil? Or better yet, some sort of alcoholic beverage?”

“I’m not your servant, Zemo,” you sighed but stood and poured him a glass of some expensive alcohol from a bottle with Sokovian writing.

He sipped it, setting it on his chest between sips as he lounged on the couch with you. Bucky was watching you out the corner of his eye, and you were watching Zemo. Every few sips he would grimace, his lips pressing together and chest catching. Then he’d relax, exhale softly and shift the peas back into place. Eventually you picked up your book and began to read again.

Sam left the room to take a phone call a few hours later and came back shaking.

“Karli threatened Sarah, my nephews. I have to meet with her. Alone.”

“I’m coming with you,” Bucky jumped in, already on his feet. “Walker will be there, and you can’t handle the Super Soldiers and Captain Propaganda on your own.”

Zemo was either asleep or doing a good job pretending beside you. The pea bag had been returned to the freezer. He’d discarded his coat and was now wearing only his black pants and a deep purple shirt with shoulder holsters.

“You got him?” Sam pointed to the sleeping man.

“That’s what I’m here for,” you answered, setting the book aside and watching them prepare to leave.

Both men donned their costumes, Sam strapping his wings on, Bucky ripping the sleeve off of yet another jacket so his metal arm could move freely.

“Call me- us if you need backup,” you shouted after them, knowing full well they would do no such thing.

“If we aren’t back in two hours, take his ass back to jail,” Bucky called back.

Baron Zemo woke up the minute the door slammed shut, which made you doubt he’d been sleeping at all.

“And now it is only us,” he said in that thick Sokovian accent. “I will cook us something for dinner.”

He moved into the kitchen, boiling a pot of water while you watched. You perched yourself on the counter near him as he searched through cabinets. When he noticed you, he paused and chuckled before returning to the cooking. You watched in silence, keeping a close eye on him when he picked up a knife and began chopping tomatoes from a can.

He handed you a bowl of thin noodles with a thick red sauce. It smelled delicious.

“A traditional and simple Sokovian dish, a comfort food you might say,” he explained and joined you on the counter. “I made enough for Sam and James. Call me an optimist.”

Zemo didn’t talk much, you realized, as you enjoyed the food in silence. It was delicious, a bit like pasta. Suddenly, the back door clicked open. You glance around nervously, realizing just how wrong this felt.

“They shouldn’t be back yet,” you say quietly. “And they wouldn’t come in the back.”

“My old associates must have found me,” Zemo jumps off the table, and you notice the same nervousness as when Bucky threw the cup. He cannot know about James or Sam.”

You can hear a single person strolling toward the kitchen in heavy boots.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Zemo whispered, and before you could even process the words, he was standing between your legs and pressing his lips to yours.

His movements are slow and careful, trying not to be invasive as he moves his hands to your back, sliding one up to the back of your head. You wrap an arm around his waist and slide the other hand up the front of his purple shirt, splaying your fingers across his chest. His lips are soft and warm as they move against yours. His hand keeps you from pulling away, not that you’d want to.

“I heard you were back in Riga,” a new voice chuckled. “I had to see for myself.”

Zemo pulls back, feigning surprise, but kept an arm protectively around you.

“And as you have undoubtedly noticed, I am quite busy,” he replied. “Perhaps you could come back tomorrow? I’d prefer not to discuss our business in front of…”

Zemo nods to you. You were staring at the man who you recognized from work files. He was a former Shield agent. When Shield fell, he used the chaos for his own advantage, working for neither Shield nor Hydra and killing anyone who stood in his way. You suspected, but couldn’t be sure, that some of your best friends had been killed by him. Fortunately, you had enough self-control not to shoot him. His mere presence made you tense and uncomfortable.

“Of course, Baron,” he grinned and look at you in a way that made you shift closer to Zemo. “I’ll see you tomorrow, noon. The usual place.”

He gave the two of you one last look and left with a wink to Zemo. Even when the other man had gone, Zemo’s hands were still holding you against him.

“We will have to be gone before noon tomorrow,” he said looking down at you.

For some reason, you were both still wrapped around each other.

“You know who he is?” Zemo said, a statement masquerading as a question. “I am sorry.”

Your face was only inches from him, and you could smell his cologne. Zemo used the hand on your head to pull you against his shoulder. You set your head there, face turned into his neck, and inhaled deeply. And there he sat and you stood, hugging tightly for no real reason except that no one else was there.

Zemo pressed a soft kiss to your head, and rather than protest you let his lips linger. Finally, his head fell on your shoulder. After a moment, he slid you off the counter, took your hand, and led you back to the couch. Without asking, the two of you settled together on the couch, so close your sides pressed against each other. He pulled a gun out of his shoulder holster, and you froze until he set it down on the table, smirking a little.

“I don’t make a habit of shooting people I’ve just kissed,” he chuckled and raised an arm for you to lean against him.

You raised an eyebrow at him, surprised at the forwardness. You shouldn’t be, after all, he had just kissed you and held you on the counter of his kitchen. Helmut Zemo made no sense to you, but in the end, you curled against him. He shifted to lay on his back, head propped on the pillows he was laying on earlier while you tucked yourself beside him, head on his chest.

Zemo wrapped an arm around you. You put a hand on his chest, fingering the purple shirt. He was warm and soft, and you had to remind yourself that you could not fall asleep while you are supposed to be watching him.

“Why are we doing this?” You whisper. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why are you?” Zemo turns his head toward you.

“I haven’t had someone to do this with in a long time,” you answer slowly, cautiously, knowing full well this was a man who could turn on you on an instant or hold onto information until the moment it was advantageous to him.

“Neither have I,” He replied. “German prisons don’t allow much physical contact. Besides, I hope that with enough time perhaps I may kiss you again.”

You tilted your head up to see a grin tugging at the side of his lips, lips that had been on yours a few minutes ago.

“Maybe with enough time,” you answer and brush a lose strand of hair out of his eyes, letting your hand trail over the bruise on his face.

He caged your hand in his, bringing your joined hands back to his chest and holding them there. You felt the rise and fall of his breaths and it soothed you. When they grew deep and steady and the tension seemed to fall from his body, you realized he was truly asleep, not faking like earlier. Soon and against your better judgment, you were dozing off in his arms tossing a leg over his so your limbs tangled together.

Your last thought before you fell asleep was how warm and comfortable you felt with Helmut Zemo, and how completely ludicrous such a thought was.

It wasn’t long before the door opening woke you, still secure in Zemo’s arms. You tried to move, sit up so Sam and Bucky wouldn’t see this little arrangement. You failed. Bucky came in first, stopping in his tracks as he saw the scene on the couch.

“What are you doing? Keep walk- what?” Sam ran right into Bucky’s back then froze.

Their eyes were wide as they stared. Zemo shifted awake beneath you, and you could imagine the smirk on his face. Bucky’s metal fist clenched, and Sam, ever the peacemaker grabbed his arm and opted for a more amicable approach.

“One of you better start talking.”

[1kook]

jungkook + long distance relationship pls

it’s smut <3

The trickiest part is the time difference. It’s early evening for you when Jungkook calls, the window behind him showcasing a pitch black sky. As usual, he’s at his desk, phone propped in front of him and to the left, the glow of his computer screen illuminating his fair skin. He’s got on his pajamas, a sandy-colored set he treated himself with for his last birthday. “Hi, baby,” he smiles, voice low, matches the lights in the room. It’s enticing.

Fresh off work, you’re sore all over, completely worn out from the events of the day; the walking, the talking, the being. Jungkook’s silky voice is a nice break from your droning boss and chattering coworkers. “Hi,” you mumble, setting your phone and Jungkook aside as you strip yourself of your clothing. His usual wolf whistle doesn’t go unheard, sending a pleasant warmth over your cheeks. “What time is it for you?”

He hesitates to tell you — more than anything, the idea of Jungkook sacrificing a healthy sleep schedule in favor of speaking to you is probably the worst part — his eventual answer a muffled string of absolute gibberish that has you sending a frown his way. His pixelated face scrunches up cutely, smiling impishly at his phone, at you. “…3am,” he confesses, saves himself from your unimpressed glare by simply shutting his eyes. “I wanted to see you!”

Down to your undies, you settle at the edge of your bed, wary of laying down on your clean sheets. “And I want to see you,” you murmur. As frustrated as you were from the day, you couldn’t take it out on your handsome lover on screen. Jungkook’s sheepish smile is too sweet, makes you yearn for him like never before. Still. “But it’s late,” you sigh, “and you’re tired.”

His scoff is scratchy, a little choppy thanks to the long reception it travels over. “I’m not tired,” he says, but you’ve long since mastered the art of deciphering Jungkook’s expressions and physical state through the tiny pixels. “I just… really wanna see you.” His voice becomes laced with a dangerous proposition, his dark eyes glancing down the screen, not at your face, but at your body. “Can’t I see you?”

Biting your lip, you feel a rather juvenile wave of shyness wash over you, the arm not holding your phone up reaching over your chest. Your feeble attempt at covering yourself is met with a soft chuckle from Jungkook, who leans back in his seat. His thighs spread apart, and you catch sight of his dark briefs beneath the slightly translucent material of his pajamas. “Let me see you, baby,” he croons, teasingly running his hand over his thigh.

You cave too easily — it’s hard not to when your man looks like that — and slip the strap of your bra down your shoulder. A small action that makes big waves, wipes the smile off Jungkook’s face. The dying rays of the setting sun paint your room in a golden hue, embolden you with their comforting warmth as you snatch a pillow from the head of the bed. Propping your phone against it, you shuffle onto the bed anew, on your knees, acutely aware of the way your camera catches your entire form now. “Shit,” Jungkook mumbles, palming his growing erection. “You’re so hot.”

Watching him work his hand over himself, you find yourself mimicking his actions; after discarding your bra, your palms glide over your body, meeting at the mound between your thighs. You run your hand over yourself, the gentle pressure licking the flames of your desire. On your phone, Jungkook’s head lolls to the side, exposing the smooth column of his neck. It’s been months since you’ve last seen him, got to places kisses against his skin. You miss him dearly. “Can I touch?” you ask, voice airy. He’s so gorgeous, just the mere sight of him is enough to kick something hot up inside of you.

The glow of his monitor catches on his eyebrow piercing when he moves. “Please,” Jungkook exhales. His hand dips beneath the waistband at the front of his bottoms, eyes momentarily fluttering shut as he, presumably, grips his cock. You follow, hooking your finger beneath your panties and tugging them to the side. It’s a little embarrassing to see your tiny reflection on screen, and you find your thigh muscles threatening to jolt shut at the sight. “No, no,” Jungkook rushes out, jolting forward, closer. “Keep them open— please?”

He’s so sweet, polite, even with his hand down his pants. Steeling your nerves, you let yourself relax once more, sinking your knees into the mattress. The hand not holding aside your underwear snakes down, pointer finger dipping into the wetness that’s collected at your opening. A quiet gasp escapes you, glancing down at yourself in curiosity as you realize you’re wetter than you thought. Your run your finger through the warmth of your folds, drawing it back up to your clit. Slowly, you begin circling the swollen bud, gaze instinctively returning to your boyfriend.

Jungkook’s lips are slightly parted, eyes zeroed in on his phone as he watches you. It doesn’t feel as awkward and as nerve-wracking as it did the first few times. Now, Jungkook’s focused gaze feels empowering, in a sense, has you picking up the pace of your fingers against your clit as he watches. His hand works itself over his member, hidden beneath the fabric of his bottoms. “Jungkook,” you pant, slightly amused by the harsh jerk of his hand at the sound of your voice. “You, too,” you gasp, “let me see you, too.”

And just like you, he caves easily. Yanking his hand out of his pants, he makes quick work of pushing them down his hips. They stretch over his thighs, barely stand a chance against his bulging muscles when he spreads his legs. “Fuck,” he groans, melting into his seat as he tunes back into your show. His knuckles are nearly white, holding his cock tightly in an attempt to imitate the snugness of your cunt. The tip weeps with precum, trails down his length and over his knuckles the faster he pulls. It’s an image you burn into your mind.

Your gentle caresses turn into rabid rubbing, two— three fingers pressed together at the front of your slit, desperate to match the tune of Jungkook’s wrist. Unconsciously, your hips grind forward, the memories of Jungkook’s hot and heavy body against you spurring you on. His hands at your waist, digging into the skin until it’s painful. His breath against your damp skin, sending waves of shivers down your spine. “__,” he grunts, and although the lewd squelch of his hand is fuzzy over the line, your brain fills in the gaps. He always gets so sloppy toward the end, bucks into you like it’s his first time.

This time is no different. You watch as Jungkook unravels before you, his brows furrowed as he watches you move. “Fu— you’re so wet,” he chokes out, watching your fingers slid over your clit ferociously, his own speakers probably filled with the sounds of your pleasure just like yours are with his. “You’re always so wet after work,” Jungkook mumbles, running the pad of his thumb over his tip. It’s true, but you don’t want to tell him it’s because you think of him all day, imagining him bending you over your boss’s desk, the printer, a bathroom stall.

The motions of his hand speed up, jaw clenched as he works himself away. His name tumbles off your lips, gaze growing foggy as you watch the man before you; Jungkook’s breathing is shallow, harsh as he jerks himself to completion. The pressure at your core becomes unbearable and eventually, a shock of pleasure bursts over you, makes your toes curl, your clit go numb. Stuck in the motions, you can only weakly buck into your hand as your orgasm rolls over you, always careful to keep your face in Jungkook’s line of sight.

Jungkook follows, fills your bedroom with his strained breathing and a choked cry of your name. The pleasure renders him a limbless mess, head rolling back against his chair as he slumps further into his seat. His pearly cum leaves a splattered stain on his pajamas and on his thighs, cock still twitching as it pushes out the last of it. “Jungkook,” you call out softly, slowly regaining your strength. Your fingers begin to feel dry and icky, and it’s with a scrunch of your nose that you wipe them against your thigh. You needed a shower anyway.

On screen, your lover laughs. “God,” Jungkook exhales, eyes even more tired than before. “You’re so amazing.” You respond with an easy smile, languidly reaching forward to snatch up your phone. Jungkook’s face is flushed now, but the sky behind him remains as dark as it was when he first called. It matches the sky outside your own window, and you only have a moment to marvel at how quickly the sun set before Jungkook is speaking again, his voice soft and dainty as he talks you and him back down from your highs.

[joonxcupid]

love grows — isa madrigal !

warnings — NONE , JUST PURE RAW FLUFF

isabela madrigal x fem! time traveler reader

so, how did this happen in the first place ?

easy, you came from a looooong linage of magic people, like from the 1800’s or something like that, you weren’t really sure

you did know though, that around that time too existed another family like yours

the madrigals were the only thing you thought of, you spent most of your time researching about the magical colombian family, always wishing you could see them in someway

and here you were today, your twenty first birthday had finally came after many years of waiting and it only meant one thing

gift ceremony !

your family’s gift ceremony was somewhat different from the madrigals, and less complex in your opinion

you would simply take a bath that would cleanse away the things holding you back from getting your gift and boom now you had gift

why did it have to be on you twenty first birthday? you had no idea, nor truly cared for it

so anyway , back to you and your super awesome gift

for you first ten minutes you didn’t know what was going on

like, everything kept rewinding back and forth, people that had approached you literally a second ago would approach you with the same questions they had asked and you were just like

????

and then it hit you

something that had to do with time

you weren’t sure if you could bend the timeline, so you went for the next safe option, time travel!

only one person in your family had a gift similar to yours, and that was your mother, mother, mother, mother’s

yeah …..

anyway

six weeks later and after a lot (and by a lot i mean you had a few dreams about it) thinking, you finally decided that it would be a fantastic idea to just, yk, go visit the family you had been wanting to meet since you heard about them

so here you were , in the most appropriate clothing you could find in your closet (and by that i mean a long skirt and a shirt you hadn’t wore since you were nineteen)

it was around three in the morning when you appeared out of nowhere in the madrigal home

no one was awake, and you didn’t want to be rude and wake them up so you decided to skip time until morning

but before you could do so you saw the biggest rat you had ever seen

bigger than the ones over at your apartment in new york and you did what you did best

“AHHHHH WHAT THE FUCK”

the rat was looking you dead in the eye as you clung to one of the wooden pillar you had climbed up

“who are you?”

you looked up and saw pretty much everyone, standing outside their doors, meanwhile abuela walked down the stairs to where you were

you wanted to scream

anywho

“hola, soy [Y/N] [L/N]”

abuela looked at you with an unamused look

you gulped and slowly slid down the pillar

you walked up the stairs slowly, your hands were up as if you were surrendering to something and smiled awkwardly

“don’t get any closer or else,” you looked up at the voice and gulped

isabela madrigal stared down at you, a few venomous plants growing from her hands

yet that wasn’t your main concern

it was that oh my god???? isabela madrigal???? was threatening you????

you really needed to get your brain checked out cause how in the world did you find any of that attractive

ahem

back to abuela

“i’m not a threat, i came here to meet you guys”

abuela nodded , unconvinced

so timeskip , literally

it’s now six in the morning and the family has never been so confused in their life

it was literally night like three seconds ago

and they were sitting down in the living room

they weren’t there like ten seconds ago

whaaaaat?

“so um, yeah i’m from 2022”

gasp

scream

THUNDER

“so we’re like, dead”

“camilo cállate”

after like thirty minutes of explaining why you were there, your gift, and practically everything (excluding the fact that you had a crush on isabela madrigal even though you had never met her)

then the idea of staying over at encanto for longer than like a day hit you

“SEÑORA ALMA”

you tan up the stairs with a speed that could beat your older brother’s

“si?”

“can i stay for like, a while”

she frowned

and then unfrowned

idk if that’s a word but fuck it

“as long as you help, yes you may”

gasp

you tan down the stairs just as fast as you ran up them

timeskip hehe

it had been like a week of staying over at encanto

well, the outsides of it

the madrigals had a tiny cottage in the outsides of the city and you decided it was the best place to stay

was it because you liked daydreaming about having a cute cottagecore life with isabela were you both sung taylor swift songs ?

whaaaaat? nooooo

(yes)

and then it hit you like a truck

taylor swift didn’t exist in this time period

you almost cried

and then the best idea you’ve ever had happened

if they didn’t have taylor swift, you’d bring taylor to them

“DOES ANYONE HAVE A GUITAR?”

you bursted through the casita’s doors startling literally everyone

“no but we have a piano”

agustín said reluctantly

that’ll do

timeskip (again hehehe)

you’d somehow convince the madrigal primos to come with you down to the village so you could fulfill your teenage dreams

you were now playing taylor swift in the piano, a lot of people had gathered around to watch you and the primos do whatever you were trying to do

you sung paper rings like your life depended on it

like , you adored paper rings

like , a lot.

so anyway

the kids danced around you happily meanwhile camilo and mirabel danced to the song, not really knowing what they were doing but enjoying it anyway

isabela watched with a frown

i mean , shit you looked amazing, stunning, gorgeous, doing your thing

but she was lowkey jealous

even though her days of being the towns it girl were over ever since casita’s destruction but she missed it

or at least that was what she was trying to convince herself to believe

it wasn’t totally because she had grown to like you and didn’t enjoy you being other people gawking at you

totally not that

hehe

but you noticed

it was funny

and a little scary because at the end of the day, isabela was pretty scary sometimes

so you decided that why not do what you’d thought about for a while now

so you slowly got up and walked towards her

her frown became a confused expression and before she could do anything you were spinning her around

you were dancing with isabela madrigal meanwhile camilo played traga’o de ti on the piano

what was going on

you were internally screaming while you danced with her

some people joined while others just stared

cause like

it was a little weird seeing isabela do literally anything that wasn’t growing flowers

but there she was

dancing with what practically was a stranger , and enjoying it?

weird.

but she didn’t really mind the weird looks

not when you looked up at her with a huge smile on your face , dancing like you’d never dance a day in your life before

so she danced with you happily

maybe you’d stay a little longer than anticipated

[smuttyassholes]

Show off - San

It was his fault, really, so you honestly didn’t understand why he was mad.

He left you alone to go fuck around with his friends. He let some random girl swoon all over him. 

Sure, he didn’t let her touch him but the fact that he entertained her attention was enough to irk you. But fine. Whatever. Why were you gonna let him ruin your night?

You glared towards him as you downed the rest of your drink before making your way towards the dancefloor, your hips swaying as soon as you found a spot.

It didn’t take long for your whole body to follow as you lost yourself in the music. It also didn’t take long before you felt someone watching you.

Thinking it was San finally deciding to pay attention, you up-ed your performance and got more into it. Your hands coming up to run through your hair as you moved it from your face.

You could feel someone walking towards you and when you turned, you were greeted with someone who most definitely wasn’t your boyfriend, but a rather attractive girl who smiled as she made eye contact with you.

No words were exchanged as she put her hands on your waist and you wrapped your hands around her neck, your fingers playing with the stray strands of hair that fell from her ponytail.

While you and the mystery girl got more comfortable, you felt someone watching you again. This time you looked up, meeting the glaring eyes of the same man that had left you alone just an hour ago.

You smirked slightly as you turned in the mystery girl’s arms, your hips moving against hers while you moved her hands to wrap around your waist.

Your eyes stayed locked on San as you continued dancing, almost challenging him to do something.

He stayed still, though. The only difference being his tightened jaw while his leg started bouncing. You took it as a partial win and made your dancing a bit more sensual, trying to get him to do something. It wasn’t long before you got the reaction you wanted and saw him heading straight for you, giving you no time to react as you were being dragged away, towards the exit, and through the parking lot.

“Wh-”

“Shut it.” He cut you off, his grip on you tightening as he pushed you against the car. “What am I gonna do with you? Hmm?” He asked, his breath next to your ear.

“Well what was I supposed to do?” You countered. “I was bored, so I had to have fun somehow.”

“Fun? That’s what you’re calling it?” He scoffed as his hand reached for the bottom of your dress. “I don’t think giving out what’s mine counts as ‘fun’.” He growled as he hand slid under to grope your ass.

“I think,” He said, his fingers moving under your panties and towards your slit. “You wanted attention.” He said, a smirk forming as he felt just how wet you were. “That or you were wanting someone else to take care of you.”

“Maybe I was.” You spoke through a gasp as he ran a finger over your clit. “Someone had to if you weren’t.”

“Are you really in a position to start that right now?” He scoffed. “I can easily walk away.”

It was your turn to scoff.

“Considering you were the one who dragged me out,” You started, reaching for the buttons on his suit. “I don’t think you’ll be walking away.” You licked your lips as you dragged your finger towards his belt, slightly undoing it. “So why don’t you throw me into the backseat and fuck me like we both know you want to.”

He scoffed and pulled away, stepping slightly so he could open the backseat door. You moved to get in but he stopped you, sitting in the edge before you could.

“I could care less if I’m the one who dragged you out.” He started, moving his hands out to grab your hips and pull you onto his lap. “You know well enough that I can control myself for hours,” His hands pushing up the hem of your dress. “And I know well that you get whiny if I tease you long enough.” His eyes locked with yours as he lightly pulled the fabric up, hinting for you to move so he could lift it more. “So you tell me.” He spoke as his hands bunched the fabric at your waist, the cool night air making you shiver. “You can ride me right here, or we can go home and I won’t let you cum for a week. Maybe two.” He shrugged with the latter part.

The tone in his voice made you shiver again. It wasn’t like you two were shy when it came to public sex, but with the current situation you knew he wouldn’t go easy on you. You looked towards the doors of the club and bit your lip. It wasn’t like you’d be easy to see, anyways.

Without words, you undid the button to his pants and slid his zipper down. He took it into his own hands to pull himself out of his boxers and you felt your face flush knowing what he was trying to get at.

With your dress bunched up and you already on his lap, you lifted yourself up and placed him underneath you. You slowly lowered yourself onto his tip, a shaky breath coming out as you tried to keep quiet.

His hands dropped the fabric and rested on your hips. You were going to look up at him, thinking he’d gone soft for a moment, but all thoughts left your head as he forced you to take all of him. Your mouth fell open as your head fell against him, praying that the noise that left you was quieter than you thought.

“Since you wanted to show off, I thought I’d do the same.” He whispered, kissing the top of your hair. “Now get up and ride it before I make this more obvious.”

You screwed your eyes shut as you felt yourself clench around him, hoping he wasn’t going to say anything. You didn’t try to pull yourself up but started moving your hips instead only for him to stop you.

“No, no.” He said, one of his hands coming up to grab your hair and pull you back so you’d look at him. “You can do better.” He cooed. “I want the same treatment your little friend in there got.” His eyes glared as he cocked his head towards the door.

You picked your head up and looked at him with soft eyes, hoping for just a smidge of leniency that you knew deep down you weren’t going to get. It wasn’t helping that you were still trying to adjust to his size.

“What, baby?” He feigned concern. “Did you want me to help you?”

You nodded your head slowly, still maintaining eye contact. His hand left your hair and returned to your hip, wasting no time in lifting them so he could move you. Everything was happening too fast and you were already starting to forget about where you were.

"My stupid, little baby," He grunted as he settled on a doable pace. He wouldn't admit it, but with the day he's had, he wasn't sure if he could hold himself back. "You still haven't learned that being a brat gets you nowhere."

You thought about saying how it was his fault, but a sudden hand on your throat had that thought fading away, a small gasp coming out in its place.

“Not gonna say anything?” He smirked. “Is it because you can’t or because you know whatever you say would make it worse?”

You were grateful he’d cut you off because you’re sure your voice would’ve been a dead giveaway to the actions going on. You nodded your head and started meeting his thrusts, your own need to cum taking over your movements.

He took the hint and sped up, his hands going back to your hips to make sure you took all of him with every thrusts.

With no hand to shut you up, you felt your face flush as you weren’t so quiet anymore, the heat getting more intense as you felt the wet fabric of his pants every time his hips met you.

“Fuck,” You whimpered out as your head fell onto his shoulder, your stomach tightening at the thought of him walking around with the stained pants had your head spinning. You knew he wouldn’t think twice to let whoever asked know exactly what happened.

“San, I can’t, please.” The words came out before you had a chance to think and you were met with a look of amusement.

“That wasn’t a part of the deal.” He reminded you, his movements slowing down until you were sat on his lap.

“I just don’t think I can keep quiet any longer.” You spoke through closed eyes, scared he would see the lie. “I just want to cum without having to hold back.”

“And why should I care about what you want?” He countered, giving you a slow trust for emphasis. “Especially when you were so disobedient earlier.”

You couldn’t find the answer to his question, only letting out small whimpers as he kept the taunting pace. 

“Can you really not handle it, baby?” He raised a brow, his hands wrapping around the small of your back, not waiting for your response before continuing. “If that’s the case, maybe I could let you off easy.” He licked his lips. “And you’d be thankful if I did, right?”  

You nodded helplessly, hoping this wasn’t another punishment of his. 

“I’ll fuck you stupid once we’re home, all you have to do is suck me off right here.” He whispered, the tone making you clench again and he chuckled. “Can you do that for me, princess?”

You let out a shaky ‘yes’ and slowly removed yourself from his lap, a small whine coming out as the empty feeling took over. You got up, leaning down so you weren’t showing through the window. You looked behind you, wondering if the door would cover you. 

“C’mon, princess.” He reassured. “If you make it quick, you won’t have to worry about getting caught.” He motioned you over with his finger.

You hesitated before finally settling on the thought that the car door would be enough to cover you. You bent over, taking him into your mouth and working your way down, gagging slightly when he reached the back of your throat. 

Fearing you’d make anymore noise, you looked up at him in hopes he would take control, which he gladly did. His hair wrapped itself in your hair, holding you still while he worked his hips into you. 

“God, your mouth always feels so good.” He groaned out as his head fell back. “And your ass always looks so good sticking out like that.” He rasped. “I’m sure it would be even better if someone else was fucking you while you sucked me off, what do you think?” 

You whined at the thought, letting San know you weren’t entirely opposed to the idea. He chuckled and held you down while he settled in your throat for a few seconds.

“Good to know.” He groaned as he pulled you off, watching you gasp as tears welled in your eyes. “I’m just not sure I could let someone else see you like this.” He tsked, pushing you back down, but only keeping you at his tip. “But seeing your face right here while someone else fucks you,” He paused, slowly pushing you back down. 

“I think that’s something I need to see.”

- asshole 4

[writemekpop]

Bad Romance (Part 1) | Lee Taeyong

Pairing: Lee Taeyong x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend Taeyong wants to fuck you, but you're not ready...

Genre: Angst, Smut, College AU 

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning: Sexual Content, Toxic relationship 

Part 1 ⭐️| Part 2

Taeyong’s breaths were deafening in your ear. Couldn’t he try to control himself? For discretion, at least. You imagined every ear in your university dorm pricking up. Snickering. “I wonder what they’re up to.” 

Taeyong kissed you again, his hot lips colliding with yours.

His hand, ever so slightly rough, pushed up your shirt, sending goosebumps up your ribs. A moan sounded, deep in your throat, and Taeyong groaned in satisfaction. 

You felt instantly guilty. You’d told yourself your ancestors wouldn’t mind if you did this for him. But you’d promised not to enjoy it. 

Taeyong knotted one hand in your hair. You felt the other one slide up to your back to unclasp your bra. His hand dwarfed your back, sending sparks rippling up your shoulder blades. 

“Are you okay with this?” he murmured, voice husky. You nodded. It was a lie.

The truth was, you’d never had sex before. You’d barely even kissed a boy. 

When all your college friends were in the basement snogging boys, you would hover by the doorway, holding their drinks. When they began to tease you, you just pretended you couldn’t hear them. 

Even when everyone started saying you ‘batted for the other team’, it just felt like a relief. Maybe they’d finally leave you alone. 

You were a feminist. You fully believed that women weren’t shiny, unwrapped presents that had to be protected for marriage. But you were also a fake. 

Because the idea of sleeping with a stranger still made you feel sick inside. 

Well, Taeyong wasn’t a stranger; he was your boyfriend. So, you would just have to grit your teeth and get on with it. 

Taeyong’s hand slid down between you. You squeezed your eyes shut. It would be over in a minute; that’s what your friends were always joking about, right? 

Then, you heard the unmistakeable clink of his belt buckle. Suddenly, that was the most terrifying sound you’d ever heard.  

“W-wait,” you croaked. 

You clung onto Taeyong’s firm wrist. 

He was breathing hard, his pulse pounding under his papery-thin skin. You were sat on his lap – so you could feel how ready he was, and it frightened you. 

He would hate you for what you were about to say, you knew that. 

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” 

You rolled away from him, pulling your knees up and hugging them. Burying your wet eyes in your knees, you waited for Taeyong to leave. 

But you didn’t feel him get off the bed. 

Instead, there was absolute silence. A shiver ran down your spine. 

Then, his muscled arms were wrapping around you. Taeyong eased you till you were lying on the bed – fear closed in your throat – but he wasn’t trying to have sex with you. Instead, he helped you pull your T-shirt back on, and guided you so your head was resting on his chest.

You felt his thundering heartbeat slow to a steady, comforting pulse.

Taeyong pressed a kiss on your temple. For a second, your stomach curled; it was so fatherly. You mentally scolded yourself. Taeyong wasn’t like other guys. He was caring, and sensitive, and you should be grateful.  

“If you wanna go slow, let’s go slow. You’ll always be my girl,” Taeyong whispered.

So, you pushed down the niggling feeling that ‘always’ had an expiry date. It was time you learnt to trust someone, and Taeyong was the perfect person to let in.

---

Over the next few months, you tried your best to forget about that night. And it was easy enough – Taeyong was electrifying. 

You’d never met a man who could tell a Basquiat from a Banksy and didn’t even show off about it. 

Each night, after lectures, you’d sneak off to some gallery late opening, and take photos of each other for Instagram. 

Or, you’d just snuggle up in his dorm room and listen to him telling you all about his Art History course, or his dreams of starting his own gallery. 

You rarely spoke. You preferred to soak in his world, like a cat curled in the sun. And let’s face it – who wanted to talk about Maths, anyway? 

Taeyong was like a shooting star: totally uncontrollable, impossible to understand, yet hopelessly fascinating. You couldn’t believe why someone like him seemed to find you interesting. Or at least, worth spending every day with.  

---

The second time Taeyong scared you was a Saturday.

You were sitting in his lap, poring over one of his Art History books. Other than toying with a curl of your hair, or pressing a kiss to your shoulder, Taeyong was totally still.  

Sighing with pleasure, you flicked through the glossy pages – for the hundredth time. No wonder Taeyong would always say: If I wasn’t rubbish at Maths, we should’ve swapped courses.

Just then, you prised open a page you hadn’t seen before. You frowned. 

It was a scan of an old Japanese painting. In it, a wealthy couple were captured in a furious argument with a young woman, carrying a baby. It was entitled ‘Outside Wife’. 

You turned to Taeyong, finger on the title. “What’s that?” 

Taeyong lifted the book from your hands, then grinned. “It’s when a noble couple are forced to get married, but the man has another wife to, you know, satisfy his needs.” Taeyong chuckled dryly. “Unfortunately, that system isn’t available anymore.” 

You began to chuckle too… then your smile melted from your face. “What do you mean, unfortunately?” Goosebumps rippled over your skin. 

“Ah… it was just a joke. You know, we’re not exactly getting any.” Taeyong’s body still felt relaxed under you, but your muscles were tensing. 

“I thought you said you wanted to go slow…” you mumbled. 

Of course. You should’ve seen this coming. 

There was only so long a person could go without their needs fulfilled. And here you were, dragging your boyfriend down while he could sleep with any normal girl whenever he wanted. 

“I’m not ready yet, Taeyong.” You picked at the frayed wool of your jumper. 

Your throat closed as you prepared for what you would say next. “If you… need to sleep with someone else, I won’t blame you,” you whispered. Stupid, babyish tears were filling your eyes already. 

“Babe – it was just a joke! No need to get your knickers in a twist.” Taeyong laughed, and kissed your neck. 

When you still didn’t make a sound a moment later, Taeyong turned you around on his lap so you were facing him. Tears streaked freely down your cheeks – you couldn’t hide them. 

“Oh, baby….” Soft as a whisper, Taeyong placed his palm on your cheek and smoothed away the tears with his thumb. “I don’t care about your… problem. You’re my girlfriend, and what’s good enough for you’s good enough for me.” 

A small part of you hurt at the way he said problem, but you pushed that part away. You allowed him a small smile. 

Laughing, Taeyong pulled you into a bear hug. You’d never gripped his shoulder so tight. You were so lucky to have him. 

----

A few weeks later, Taeyong finally convinced you to accompany him to a house party. You knew what this meant. You’d been dating for four months – this was the ‘meeting his friends’ moment. 

All the time you were getting ready, your stomach had transformed into a pit of snakes. Excitement, anxiety, fear – they all wriggled and knotted about inside you. 

You chose a midnight-blue playsuit, in a glimmering velvet. When Taeyong pointed it out to you in the shop, you knew this what you’d be wearing. 

To be honest, you hated Taeyong’s friends. You were pretty sure Taeil had tried to sneak vodka into your coke, and Mark did nothing but yap on endlessly about his girlfriend in Canada. You were almost 100% sure she didn’t exist. 

But as soon as Taeyong’s mahogany eyes met yours across in the heaving living room, all your worries melted away like snow. All he had to do was raise one deep eyebrow, or pull his plump lips into a silly face, and you’d burst out laughing. 

Except, as the hours drew by, you realised you hadn’t seen Taeyong in a while. You were perched on the stairs, shivering next to everyone who was too zoned out to take part. 

“Taeyong?” 

Tip-toeing, you climbed up the stairs, calling his name. You pushed open each of the doors in the hallway, peeking through your fingers just in case anything funny was going on. 

But they were all empty. 

Just as you turned around to go back downstairs, you heard voices coming from the attic. Gingerly, you sneaked up. They grew louder, more defined. 

Pushing open the door just a crack, you heard:

“Really? My god.” 

Your heart jumped. You knew that rich, resounding tone better than your own voice. It was Taeyong. 

You considered climbing up to join them. But then, you heard something that stopped you in your tracks. 

“And the worst thing is, Irene thinks she’s some kind of sex goddess, but actually she’s awful. She just lies there like a limp doll, expecting me to do everything.” It was Doyoung speaking. 

There was a pause as they all laughed. 

Your heart was already twisting. Something about his tone felt… wrong. Like his girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate what he was saying. 

Then, you heard Taeyong say, “Mate, at least your girlfriend’s fucking you, even if she is awful at it. I haven’t got any for months!” 

Everyone in the group exclaimed in disbelief. You forgot how to breathe. 

“Yeah – I know. Y/n thinks she’s some kind of saint for “waiting for the perfect moment”. I mean, a guy’s got needs!” Taeyong’s voice was low, but to you he could have been screaming. 

Black spots were engulfing your vision. Gulping, you staggered backwards, out of the door. You didn’t want to hear what you heard next. You really didn’t want to.  

But you couldn’t help it. Not when Taeyong said, “You know, I don’t even feel bad about fucking Joy. I mean, I had no choice. If Y/n wasn’t so frigid, I wouldn’t need to. It’s her fault really.” 

That was it. 

You sprinted away. Pushing through the line of partygoers waiting to use the bathroom, you locked yourself inside.

Then, you curled up on the toilet seat and sobbed. 

It had finally happened. 

Your gorgeous boyfriend had finally realised that he was miles out of your league. He didn’t deserve the defect. He didn’t deserve the fake feminist who was too ashamed to admit how sexist she really was. 

Then, a thought entered your mind that make you perk up. 

Maybe you could pretend you’d never overheard Taeyong. Maybe you could go back to how you were before… Or maybe you could sleep with him and make him forget about all other girls. 

After all, you’d do anything to keep him. 

Anything.  

Read Part 2 here.

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MASTERLIST