#a paper against. a paper against the paper for the against. on the walls for st joseph of cupertino we both pray for some mercy. offer up

[txttletale]

Thoughts on Papers Please? Love the game, but it's been bugging me for years that I've not seen anyone actually analyze the "What if 1984 was a videogame about the GDR" part (Or at least I couldnt find anything!)

In general it's kinda fascinating just how commonly accepted it is to portray the GDR as "literally what Orwell wrote about in his hit novel 1984", even in media that leans left, or by people that outright identify themselves as communists. It's like a blind spot in the eye of radical thought, an accepted, undeniable unquestionable truth that East Germany was a totalitarian hell, and denying that reality is akin to supporting The Great Evil that was happening behind those walls

i don't really think there's any connection to the GDR specifically--yes, there's a wall, but the aesthetics of the game are clearly ''eastern european'' in a nonspecific, stereotypical way, and the political situation much more closely resembles post-collapse yugoslavia or post-soviet central asia.

like, it's definitely anticommunist! just not in a measured or considered way, lucas pope just wanted to do the classic literary move of using another culture as essentially a mirror in which to place criticisms of one's own culture--and instead of bothering to do any research, just lazily amalgamated every stereotype that was floating around his head re: ''eastern europe'' as nebulously imagined by an incurious usamerican into one undifferentiated smorgasbord against which to make his criticism of usamerican border policy. the anticommunism is mostly incidental, imo--it's just an artifact of anticommunist tropes being a big part of the ''eastern europe'' of the usamerican cultural imaginary

[mariasont]

Office Sleepover 2 - A.H

a/n: had sm fun writing this one yall

im so down bad for him ugh

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

part one here!

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader flashes hotch AGAIN, drinking on government property lmao, drunk reader, suggestive comments

wc: 3.2k

You were restless, to put it simply. Every conceivable activity within the BAU had been exhausted, and you had explored every nock and cranny of the office, leaving no corner untouched. At this point they should start paying you for tour guides because you'd be an expert.

You were bored, frankly, and lonely--the team had been on a case all week and you were stuck here. How Garcia managed was beyond you--the walls seemed to close in on you as stir craziness took hold. You kept busy with work, offering as much help as possible while staying put, but it really wasn't the same.

You missed the team, and a particular member's absence you felt just a tad more, though you wouldn't admit it. Thankfully, they were supposed to be back any second now. While Penelope had a special place in your heart, the thought of sitting through another round of her and Kevin's awkward flirting was almost too much to bear. Without Hotch to keep it in check, it was all the more excruciating.

"Bye, Kevin," you chimed in unison, your voices intertwining just as the door clicked shut behind him.

Once you were sure he wasn't coming back, you shot Pen a knowing glance, arching an eyebrow as you pointed one of her fuzzy pens at her.

"Ease up on the death stare, will ya?" Penelope chided, as she wheeled her chair back to her computers, her finger twirling towards you. "You get so broody when the boss man's gone."

You lobbed the pen in Penelope's direction. "No," you replied with a huff. "I get broody when the whole team leaves me behind."

"Gasp," Penelope declared, placing a hand over her heart. "Can you believe it? They're genuinely concerned for your well-being. The audacity!"

"Okay, but seriously, what's the bigger priority here--my life or my sanity? Because it's a fine line," you said with a shrug, pushing your chair back dramatically.

But, before the chair could gain any momentum, you found yourself abruptly against the wall, your head cushioned by an unexpected softness. Without a moment to comprehend, your chair was spun, your eyes growing impossibly wide as Hotch's belt appeared abruptly in your line of sight. You raised your eyes to meet his.

"Your life, I would wager," he said evenly, "but then again, I might be a little biased."

You sprang to your feet, too quickly, your foot catching, sending you lurching forward. Almost instantly, Hotch's hand was securing around your arm, preventing you from landing straight on your face.

"Oh, Hotch, sir, hi," you said, flustered and slightly disoriented. "I didn't realize you guys were back."

"We just got back," he said, his hand falling away from your arm, and you hated yourself for how you felt a subtle coolness that replaced the comforting heat of his touch. "Do you have those reports I asked for?"

"Oh, absolutely, they're ready at my desk," you assure. "I'll bring them to your office in a sec."

As he nods and exits, your scoop up your belongings from Penelope's desk, raising a finger. "Don't even say it, Pen."

You ignored the way she cackled as you left, moving to your desk to grab the needed papers. You attention was captured by Spencer and Emily standing by her desk. Without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around them both, pressing them against you.

"Ugh, I missed you guys so much."

They both laugh, their hands taking you in quickly as you lean against them.

Emily grins, ruffling your hair as she nudges you. "A week away and you're this clingy? We'll have the start weaning you off us, huh?"

"Don't tease," Spencer starts, his hand resting on your shoulder, "But out of curiosity, how many times did you check our desks while we were gone?"

"Too many times to count," you admit begrudgingly, a sheepish grin on your face. As you glance up, your eyes catch Hotch's through the glass pane. "Oops, almost forgot why I came down here."

Approaching Hotch's office, you tap on the door frame and enter. "Here ya go, sir." you offer, extending the documents toward him.

Your fingers lightly touch as he takes the papers, and for a moment, you're rooted to the spot, the brief contact sparking a surge of disarray in your senses. God, it's almost beyond belief that one man could have this kind of effect on you.

Hotch nods his acknowledgement. "Thanks," he murmurs. As you pivot to leave, he adds, "Could you sit down for a moment?"

You cast a teasing look over your shoulder. "I hope I'm not in trouble," you say. His expression doesn't change. "Wait, am I? Because that would definitely be enough to push me over the edge, sir."

"No, you're not in trouble," Hotch assures you. "I've received updates concerning your case."

You lowered yourself into the chair, hands perched in your lap, your eyes wide as you met his gaze. "Please tell me it's good news because I'm starting to forget what my own bed feels like."

"You've been here just over a week," Hotch states, matter-of-fact.

You blow out a breath, arms crossed over your chest. "Hotch, it's scary at night."

He clears his throat, "Anyway, it's good news. We've got a lead on the hitman, though it's not the all-clear you're wanting."

"Well, that's something at least," you concede with a nod. "But I don't get why I can't be involved in this investigation."

As Hotch opens his mouth, you jump in, deepening your voice to copy his. "Because you're too close to it."

He regards you steadily, clearly not amused.

"Yup, okay, I'm done, sorry, I'm leaving now," you relent, getting to your feet quickly and striding towards the door, but a hand beats you to it, closing it abruptly and effectively barricading you in.

With a quick turn, you ended up flush against the door, Hotch's hand resting against the wood just above your ear. You felt like you were short-circuiting, your eyes growing wide as they met his. He says your name, but it doesn't quite register--too engrossed in the heady scent of his cologne, the pressing warmth of his body, the nearness of his chest, so close that an inch's movement could mean a soft kiss to his neck. Not like that would be totally inappropriate or anything.

"What?"

"I said, I'm worried about you."

You wanted to kiss him, man, you really wanted to kiss him. You bit the inside of your cheek to refrain from doing so.

"Why?"

It was barely audible, more air than sound, not daring to disturb the space too much, afraid of him suddenly becoming aware of just how close he was.

"You're very quick to make light of things, to make jokes, but I'm asking you to be real with me here. What are you feeling?"

His hand left the door, settling on your shoulder, his thumb hovering just shy of the hollow of your neck. Unconsciously, you found yourself leaning into the gentle pressure.

"That sounded sarcastic, Hotch," you noted, your tongue briefly sweeping across your lips, which seemed to dry out as you talked. "You're not implying my jokes need work, are you?"

His lack of response and narrowing eyes made you cave.

"Okay, fine, Hotch. You want the truth? I'm scared, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? That I have nightmares every night? That I can't sleep?"

Your breaths came faster, teeth meshing tightly as you stared up at your boss. His hand found your cheek, his thumb sketching a path across your skin that ignited a trail of goosebumps over your whole body, making you hyper-aware of your every pore.

"What can I do to help?"

Stay with you, kiss you, fuck you--numerous thoughts ran raced through your thoughts, but none of them seemed wholly appropriate.

"N-Nothing, Hotch, really, I'm okay. It's not something that can be fixed, which is why I didn't say anything. Plus, everyone on this team has been through worse. I can handle it. I'm tougher than I look."

"I know you are, but I—," his words were cut short, a sudden knock at the door silencing him mid-sentence.

His hands fell away from you, but the sensation lingered, the heat of his touch seeming to brand you, marking where he had been. You ran a hand through your hair in an attempt regain some form of composure, just as he opened the door to reveal JJ.

Her eyes darted between the two of you, finally focusing on Hotch. "Sorry, guys, I have that footage from the press conference--is that what you needed?"

"Yes, right." Hotch nodded, pulling the door open further for her, then returning his attention to you, observing your flushed cheeks and uneven breath. "We'll continue this later, okay?"

"Yeah," you exhaled sharply before ducking out of the room.

You need to get a grip, or maybe a Xanax, probably both.

Once the office had emptied, leaving you alone, you sat pitifully on your bed. It was Friday, but there was not much cause for celebration when you were stuck here, surrounded by stale office air. You sprawled out on the mattress, tracing the patterns of the popcorn ceiling overhead. If someone didn't figure out this hitman situation, you were going to take him out yourself.

Not really, that would definitely be a death wish. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of muffled shuffling outside your door. Sitting up, you slid into your slippers and stepped out into the hallway.

"There she is!"

You snickered as Penelope extended her arms with jazz hands, while JJ and Emily lifted their arms to show off their wine stash. Gratefully grabbing a glass from Emily, you pulled them all into a group hug. "I can't help but feel like we're about to be the subject of a very specific memo from HR after this."

Giggles from JJ accompanied the wine pouring as you stepped back. "Hotch is surprisingly on board we this—encouraged it even. Can you believe it?"

Warmth dusted over your cheeks at the thought. You wanted to kiss him even more, if that was even possible.

"Trust me," Penelope insisted, shaking her head as she paused for a drink. "I wouldn't dare cross HR again. Once was more than enough."

You wanted to say you were a classy gal, confident in your ability to drink responsibly--it was only wine, after all, not Everclear. But as the night went on, your voice rose a decibel too high, your balance a bit unreliable, and your displays of affection way too unrestrained.

You were already a touchy person, ask any of your team members, but with a few drinks, you're giving high school sweethearts a run for their money in the PDA department.

Your arms were flung around JJ's neck, peppering her cheek with kisses as you sang along to whatever music Pen was playing in between smooches. JJ was laughing, tilting backward on her heels, nearly knocking you both over.

"I love you guys. So so much." you said, each word stretched and muddled as you reached out to Penelope, who happily linked her fingers with yours.

"You are so drunk!" Emily accused, her palms squishing your face as she chuckled.

"'M not," you protested, words stifled by compressed cheeks.

She freed your face to grab more wine, Penelope not far behind, as you situated yourself on your desk chair.

"You know who I also love?" you questioned to no one in particular as you slid your phone out of your back pocket. "Morgan, Reid, Dave, and--,"

You paused, your nose crinkling as you bit down hard on your tongue.

"And?" Penelope pressed, brows raised as she looked at you expectedly.

"Hmm?" You hummed innocently, blowing a kiss her way as you shrugged off her question. "I'm gonna call Morgan."

Your eyes darted down to your phone, only to find the room swirling like a carousel. It took a heartbeat to register--someone's voice was already coming from the speaker.

"Hello? Morgan? How'd you know I was going to call you?"

"It's Hotch."

Your eyes grew comically large, a hand flying over your mouth, smothering the laughter that threatened to fall. "Hotch! It is so late! Why are you calling me?"

You shushed the group with a finger to your lips, the girls' curious eyes on you as JJ practically crawled towards you to eavesdrop.

"You called me." He paused. "Are you okay?"

"Hotch," his name was more of a whine than anything as you tossed your head back. "I'm fine, like, the definition of A-Okay. I'm with my friends and we're all kinds of okay."

You shot Emily a thumbs up.

"Good. Okay." Another pause. "Maybe drink some water, yeah? No more wine."

You gasped. "Agent Hotchner, I am a federal agent of the government. I know when I should be cut off."

"Oh, my god, get her off the phone."

You don't know who said it, but it sent you spiraling into another round of giggles, the phone slipping through your fingers while JJ pounced on it.

"Hey!"

She held up a hand, keeping the device just out of reach.

"Yeah, she's pretty drunk." JJ said, then frowned. "Hotch, listen she's more of a lightweight than we realized." You slumped against the chair. "Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir."

JJ ended the call and placed it back into your hands. "I cannot wait until you remember this in the morning," she sang, before casting a glance to the others. "Also, a heads-up--Will's almost here."

"No!" It came out louder than intended, almost a shout, as you stood, sending Spencer's pens tumbling. "Whoopsie." You latched onto Penelope, murmuring, "Stay here, don't leave me."

Penelope's laughter rang out, her hands cradling your head. "Worry not, I've set the security guy straight--if you get even a scratch, I'll make him regret the day he was born."

"See, this is why you're my favorite," you whispered.

"Heard that."

Will eventually texted JJ, letting her know he had arrived. As the they waited by the elevator, the doors slid open to reveal Hotch standing there. A squeal escaped you, matched by his single raised eyebrow surveying your condition.

Your cheeks were painted a rosy tint, hair in a delightful tangle, and your shirt hanging askew off your shoulder--you were an adorable spectacle of disorder, and he found himself suppressing the small smile that threatened to reveal his amusement as the other girls filed into the elevator.

He had made them promise not to leave until he got there, not keen on the idea of you being left alone like this. It might have been an exaggeration, but when you butt dialed him and he heard the sound of your slurred speech it had him envisioning all sorts of worst-case scenarios. Sure, he had seen you drink during team nights out, but nothing like this.

"Hotch!" You shouted, moving to him with a rapidity that might be, well definitely, was ill-advised.

He stood motionless as you looped your arms around his neck. You smelled so nice--a sweet hint of vanilla instead of the anticipated alcohol. After a brief hesitation, his hands slowly found their way to your waist.

"What are you doing here, silly?" You ask, pulling back just enough to see his face. "Wait a second, please don't say we have a case."

A subtle smile played on his face, his hand not budging from your back. "No, there's no case."

"Oh, good," you murmured, your head bobbing lightly in approval. The light touch of your fingers at the base of his neck spread a warmth through him. "You want a drink? I think there's still some wine left."

"No, I'm fine," he said, clearing his throat and taking a step back. "I think you need to get to bed."

Your hands lingered at his neck, softly exploring his hair as you looked up with a smile that made his pulse race unexpectedly.

"Is that an order as my boss or a suggestion as my friend?"

He raised his brow. "Both?"

"Well, okay," you shrugged as you took a step back. "Wanna see my room? I don't think you've seen it yet. Everyone else has."

Without giving him a chance to object, you dashed down the hallway. He trailed behind with reluctance, knowing just how dangerous this could be for him. He was all too aware that he shouldn't be here, let alone in your room in your current, wine-fueled state.

You fumbled for the light, fingers slipping before finding the switch as you stumbled into the cramped room. It was pink. Very pink. The pullout couch was lost beneath a mountain of pillows, excessive by any standard. Your closet was bursting, and a collection of gadgets and gizmos had overtaken the room, but he liked it, a lot.

Your collapse onto the bed sent pillows scattering to the floor, his mind wandered about the unseen details of your bedroom at home, and even more so, the thought of what a shared space between you two might look like.

A sigh escaped him as he stood over you. "How about changing into your pajamas first, hm?"

"No thank you."

"You're going to hate yourself if you wake up in jeans tomorrow."

"Fine." You pouted, propping yourself up on your elbows. "Top right drawer please."

He shot you a look but obliged anyway. There was something about that puckered out bottom lip that made him think he'd do just about anything you asked, like he was putty in your hands. Pulling out the most conservative pair of pajamas from the sparse selection, he made a mental note to ask about that later.

"Thank you," you said with a smile. He really liked your smile. "You know, you're really such a nice person, Hotch. Or—Can I call you Aaron? Just tonight?"

He felt a sudden emptiness in his chest as the air was knocked out. "You can call me Aaron. Just tonight."

A high-pitched squeal escaped you as you began shedding your clothes. He offered a stifled cough, quickly averting his gaze and nudging the door closed with his free hand.

"Well, Aaron," you said plainly, "I really like you."

The effort it took for him not to pivot on his heel was immense, particularly when your voice sweetened like honey at the mention of his name.

"You're a great boss."

"I like you too, Agent."

"No, you don't, well, I mean—you can turn around now," you said. "You like me, but I really like you. It's not the same."

As he turned to face you, he could sense his cock twitching in his pants, a physical reaction to the sight of you fumbling with your shirt, your tits exposed in full view, as if begging to be touched.

"Christ," he hissed, gripping the ends of your shirt and yanking down. He was sure you were going to hate yourself in the morning. "You're not making sense, and I think you need to sleep it off."

"Yeah," you replied, your eyes warmly meeting his as you gave him a lopsided smile. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you in such casual clothes, Aaron. You look very handsome."

He needed to get you to bed before he did something he'd regret. He softly nudged your shoulders backward, offering no verbal response. You surrendered to the motion with complaint, your remaining strength insufficient for anything else.

Softly, he settled to blankets around you, taking a moment to study you, with the intention of memorizing you completely (even the part of you that was far too drunk).

"Goodnight, Aaron."

He summoned all his restraint to keep from crashing his lips into yours. He smoothed back your hair, allowing himself that as he shot you a tired smile. "Goodnight."

He hadn't even touched the doorknob when your plea reached his ears. "Aaron, I—, will you stay with me?"

And who was he to deny you anything?

taglist: @chronicallybubbly

[onlyjaes]

hands (p.sh)

pairing. stepdad!sunghoon x fem!reader

— 𖦹 warnings. taboo relationship (stepcest), pwp, choking, fingering, cunnilingus, degradation, hair pulling, multiple orgasms

authors note. don't like it, don't read

(18+) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

you're thinking about hands.

long, slim fingers and knuckles that are a little prominent, a little pinker than the pale skin it is against. rough but careful ministrations, cradling the back of your head even as they yank your hair, pulling your head around so your gaze meets his.

hands, hands, hands... thumb brushing your lower lip before pushing past to rest on your tongue. hands on your neck, just enough pressure to have you seeing stars. or maybe no pressure at all. maybe they sit loose around the base of your throat like a collar to remind you of your place. they dip just below the neckline and you hope they’ll go further. 

hands that press forward, hands running along your body, along every tender place—neck, waist, thigh. hands that still at the slightest response from you, pausing in a way that you can feel the smugness through his fingertips. 

he loves it when you beg, he demands it of you; not with his words, but with fingers curled just right, with your legs draped over his and his breath hot on your neck. the only thing he loves more than hearing you beg is knowing you’re too far gone to do so, too fucked out to form words. he can pinpoint the moment it happens, too... feels it in the skip of your pulse, the way you clench around him. he loves making you look at him with a hand on your jaw and another between your legs, watching as you struggle to pull your eyes back into focus. "c’mon, baby, look at me, you can do it, yes, good, so good for me..." you want to pull him closer after that. sloppy open-mouth kisses, his tongue sucking yours as you cry out and ankles locked around his waist and hands clutching at his shoulders desperately, and...

“class dismissed for today! remember to turn in your papers by..."

class is over already? but you could have sworn you’d just opened up your laptop and logged on but your professor seems very clearly to be wrapping things up. a quick glance at the clock confirms that yep, you’ve been checked out for the last half hour of the lecture.

you need to spend more time focusing on your schoolwork, and less time lusting over your stupid hot stepdad.

-

sunghoon isn’t an idiot. he knows hooking up with his own stepdaughter is a bad idea. it is probably the worst idea he's had. he knows his wife would kill him.

but you’re making it incredibly hard for him to remember that.

you, prancing around the apartment in ankle socks and tiny little shorts paired with oversized sweaters that hang off your shoulder and make it look as though you aren’t wearing any shorts at all. you and all your casual touches... a kiss on the cheek when you thank him for doing some chore for you, a head resting on his shoulder when you sit next to each other on the couch, a hand on his arm as you pass him in the hall. you, sweet-voiced and soft-eyed and blushing at everything he says... dirty or otherwise. 

you, buying a vibrator. 

he’s always been curious about your sex life yeah, but you haven’t given him much to work with. you weren’t really in the habit of bringing anyone home. there was that one asshole named jungwon or whatever you’d been dating long-term when sunghoon first married your mom, but you always slept over at his place. sunghoon met him a few times and seen the way he treated you. it didn’t take him much more than five minutes of knowing the guy to be pretty sure there were zero orgasms happening. 

and now… you broke up with jungwon. now you spend your nights in your room. now you share a wall with... your mom and stepdad.

and now you own a vibrator.

he wonders if he’ll be able to hear you. he's been living here almost for a year. surely you must have gotten off in that time. he can just picture you biting down on your lip, brows slightly knit as you shake and tense and arch off the mattress.

he’s always liked his partners vocal but for some reason the thought of you in his bed trying so desperately to stay quiet just makes him want to rise to the challenge. already you make the prettiest noises whenever you’re startled or excited or shy. given the chance he could coax a fucking symphony out of you, he just knows it. he just doesn’t know when such an opportunity will ever come.

as it turns out, though, opportunity does knock... and sooner than either of you would have ever thought.

friday night. your mom is working late and you're eating dinner with your stepdad. he has that stern look on his face 24/7 so you suggest cracking open a bottle of wine to share. to your surprise... sunghoon agrees.

he's always been on the stricter side. he always frowns when you do anything... risky. so you didn't think he would say yes to drinking with you.

neither of you are drunk drunk yet but the combination of alcohol and being alone together makes you both start playing never have i ever in your room. you both have glasses of wine in your hands. his pretty hands.

"never have i ever... uh... gotten married." you smirked and your stepdad just rolled his eyes at you.

"very funny."

"okay you go."

"never have i ever gone my whole life without cumming even once."

you turned completely hot as you wondered if he meant that.

"what?! where did that come from?"

sunghoon nods at the box with your vibrator. you just now realize that it's sitting wide open on your nightstand and you blush.

"just assumed."

you sit up quickly. "i just got out of a yearlong relationship okay. what... you think i've never cum?"

"have you?"

"yes..." he tilts his head and you get flustered. "yes god, yes! yes, i've had an orgasm before!"

"but...?"

you aren't sure what it is about this night, this moment that makes you so honest with him. is it the alcohol? or his gaze? the clear and cruel behind his glasses? "only by myself," you whisper and cross your legs to hide the ache between them. "never because of someone else..."

to your surprise he doesn't laugh or mock you for your answer. he purses his lips and shrugs. sighs. "at least you can get off on your own."

"yeah i guess... i just," you look back at the box, "it's different having someone touching you. i'd rather have that... without the orgasms.... if i had to choose." you look up at him shyly and look away. the atmosphere grows serious, vulnerable, and intimate. and then your stepdad snickers. you look up at him. "what?"

"you don't have to choose."

you roll your eyes. "yeah right."

"i'm serious."

"pfft. aren't you confident? are you sure no one's faked it with you?"

"faked it? possibly. but unlikely."

"jungwon couldn't tell i was faking it."

your stepdad scoffs, "he's a boy. he doesn't know how to pleasure you like a man."

"like you can do any better."

he goes quiet. it's unlike him... so unexpected, and you almost ask him what's wrong. but he says "come here" in a low voice.

"what?"

"come here y/n."

you haven't had enough to drink to be drunk. but as you move across the mattress toward him, you kinda know what's coming and you want to jump into him. you've been touched before, cuddled, but there's something different tonight. something about the way he pulls you onto his lap so that you're straddlign him. something about the feeling of his hand on your thigh, his palm on your cheek, his warm chest against yours.

"was that a challenge dear?" he asks.

"what if it was?"

-

sunghoon isn’t sure which one of you makes the first move or who leans in first but it doesn’t matter, because how many times has he fantasized about exactly this? how many times has he sat there on the couch with your head on his lap as you watched some mind-numbing chick flick, run his hands through your hair and beat back the urge to yank?

he doesn’t hold back now. one hand curls into a fist and he pulls your head back, forcing you to look up at him. but that's his stepdaughter! he can't just... fuck your cheeks are flushed and lips slightly parted—

he wants to fucking ruin you.

your hands are still against his chest but they went slightly limp in surprise at having your hair pulled. when he slides his hand up the back of your shirt, you seem to come back to life, winding your arms around his neck. you’re breathing faster than usual and he can feel your nipples through your shirt and you’re tugging at the collar of his shirt and yeah, if he doesn’t get your clothes off sometime in the next thirty seconds he’s going to go insane.

he doesn’t tear your shirt in half... he has more self control than that. much easier to just pull it up and force your arms above your head, and then before you can bring them back down, push you gently so that you fall on the bed, legs still parted around his hips and eyes wide. he tugs off your shorts and underwear, and you grab a fistful of the front of his shirt to bring him crashing back into you for a desperate open-mouthed kiss. he catches the back of your neck with one hand mostly for support, his hand big enough in comparison to your neck that he’s able to rest his thumb just below your jaw. when he gives your neck an experimental squeeze you gasp into his mouth.

interesting. 

you as quiet as he'd expected. just gasps and whimpers. it’s cute. it’s also infuriating. he wants to hear you. he wants to hear you moan, beg, scream. and he doesn’t need a vibrator to do it.

you’re playing with the hem of his shirt. your fingers are electric against his skin and the slight touch sending flickers of desire careening through his veins and it’s too much and not enough and he reaches around your back to snap open the hook of your bra a moment before he lets you pull his shirt over his head, and there are no words to explain how it feels to have his stepdaughter's bare chest flush against his... to reach down and feel how wet you are. you’re soft and warm and so so wet, it’s driving him crazy and he isn’t even inside you yet.

as he pulls away and backs up to stand once more by the edge of the bed, you get into as upright a position as you can manage, trying to brace yourself on your elbows. “what are you...?"

the mattress slips out from under you as he pulls you forward by the waist, positioning you so that your hips are in line with the end of the bed as he sinks to his knees and buries his face in your cunt.

he doesn’t move slowly and doesn’t ease you into it. one moment you’re lying there bewildered, and the next you’re trying to buck your hips up against his face. trying because he’s holding you down with enough force you half expect to find his fingerprints there tomorrow.

he listens to you, pausing until you whisper yes and please. he takes each twitch of your legs and sharp intake of breath into consideration as he finds each sweet spot and latches onto them with precision. 

you scrabble for something to hold onto, grasping at the sheets. he takes enough pity on you to reach one hand up... the other on your hips keeping you firmly in place... his pretty fingers interlacing with yours. another lick has you arching off the bed with your head thrown back and it takes you a moment to realize he’s guided your hand to the back of his head. 

you thread your fingers loosely through his hair careful not to pull. he can tell you’re holding back because he makes a frustrated noise against you and then he turns his head and bites your thigh, his free hand pushing your hand against his hair. when he sucks on your clit again it’s startling and sweet and so intense that you don’t think twice about tightening your grip... unconsciously guiding him exactly where you need him. 

the first time you really let go and tug at his hair he lets out a growl, pleased and primal. sunghoon's hold on your hips loosens, allowing you to ride his face in earnest with all your shy manners gone and forgotten as the overwhelming wave of sensations narrows to a point of pure excruciating pleasure and you finally cum.

he doesn’t stop.

why would he? now that he finally has you where he wants you. and vice versa if the way you’re still writhing on the bed is any indication. you’re still frustratingly quiet but the sight of you so lost in sensation and twitching with the aftershocks is enough to sate him for now.

you’re overstimulated for sure with your hand weak against his temple but all your protests are replaced by whispered pleas for more, oh fuck, more, daddy, more please as he slips one finger inside you. slowly. wet as you are and relaxed from your first orgasm of the night. 

did you really think he’d stop at one? the thought makes him chuckle against you. he's two knuckles deep and to his delight he gets something more than a gasp. he repeats the motion and adds another finger and oh, oh, you sound just as good as he’d imagined. better, so much better. he moves harder and faster, working you out until he feels you tensing, feels you right on the edge...

... and he stops.

you whine. you’re turning your head up to look at him. he’s pleased to see what a mess you look: flushed face, messy hair, your lips kiss-swollen. your eyes still clear and soft with the afterglow of your previous orgasm. “why did you stop?”

he lets out a low thoughtful hum before turning to face you. “what’s the matter?” you’re taken aback by his eagerness across his face. he licks his thumb and smirks and you bite your lip. “one isn’t enough?”

"ah... uh..."

he climbs up the bed to meet you in another bruising kiss, the taste of you still on his lips and your legs spreading further to allow his hips to slot between them. once you’ve helped him get off all clothing below the belt you melt into his touch only to be jolted back when he rolls over to pull you on top of him.

“i stopped,” your stepdad grunts, getting a good handful of thigh to squeeze and smirking when he hears your moans, “because this time you’re going to cum on my cock my pretty girl.”

he pulls you against him as if to demonstrate and you can’t help but let out another louder sigh at the feeling of him long and hard and throbbing against you. you sit up to align yourself and the first press of him inside you is so good that your head tips back and your lower lip caught between your teeth as you bite back another moan. 

sunghoon's voice is mocking but he breaks as you slide down to be seated fully against him with the tip of his cock practically kissing your cervix. “fuck... such a cock hungry whore.... cum once already and you’re still so tight. is this what you needed?” he starts leading you in an achingly slow rhythm and relishing in the way you clench around him with every thrust. you nod as your eyes flutter shut. the sting of his hand on your ass makes you whimper. “c’mon little girl. want to hear you say it.”

“say... oh fuck, i, fuck, daddy." you moan.

“you act so innocent. i bet you think about me fucking your pretty pussy all the time huh? you think of your stepdad fucking you? behind your mom's back? huh? tell me.” he fucks up into you hard, his hands on your hips pinning your hips to the mattress. “convince me you deserve to cum.”

when you reach for your clit he catches your wrists in one hand. “please.”

“please what?”

“please let me cum daddy.“

he shakes his head. “not good enough. if you’re desperate enough to grind on my cock then your slutty enough to tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.” 

desperate, slutty... you’d never realized until now that degradation was something that turned you on. you bite your lip one last time and your eyes fix on his. “i want to cum on your cock. please daddy, fuck."

"that so? you want your stepdad to fuck you? aren't you such a dirty whore?"

"y-yes... i want you to fuck me hard. want you to fuck me all night." he rewards you with a few fingers circling your clit and you almost choke on a moan. ”i want you to fuck me into the mattress until i can’t think straight.”

sunghoon can’t help but shudder at that... at the sound of you. you, his shy and not-so-innocent stepdaughter. such filthy words in your sugar-sweet voice.

it’s only a matter of seconds before he has you on your back with your legs draped over his shoulders and he's filling you up at an almost brutal pace. he’s rewarded with the shaking of your legs and the frantic drag of your nails across his back, and most of all the way you can’t help but moan with each thrust as you grow closer and closer to falling over the edge.

when you cum again you seem to melt into him, clenching and squelching around him with the prettiest cries he’s ever heard and that’s all it takes for him to pull out so that he can come on your stomach. you’re still twitching as he does and all he can think as he collapses next to you is that he’d give anything to see you like this, fucked out and hazy and covered in his seed every day for the rest of his life. 

“two orgasms,” he finally says, once the two of you have spent a few minutes in silence. “easy. your ex must be even more of an idiot than i thought.”

without thinking you press a kiss to his shoulder. “thanks,” you whisper. he doesn’t answer... not at first. not out loud. but a moment later you feel him shift, reaching across you to grab something from the nightstand. then he’s above you and kissing you. it's soft, deep, sleepy in your mutual post-orgasmic haze and you sense some mischief behind it. when he pulls back you see it in his eyes as well.

you blink up at him. “what are you..."

“making you cum a third time.” you can do nothing but grab your stepdad's shoulder again as he reaches down to lower the vibrator to your clit and as you whine again at the sting. you feel his free hand on your cheek and take two of those long pretty fingers into your mouth. he smirks at you. “why don't we test your limits baby?”

[stxrvel]

tis the damn season

a season of sadness wanted to come to an end. 'tis the damn season and you thought maybe you could go home and live with your mate the way it was meant to be…

pairing: azriel x f!reader

wc: +3.5k

warnings: pure angst, cuss words and slight (or light? soft?) unprotected (wrap it up) smut. no happy ending, sorry

note: hi guys! :)- i wrote and published this one some time ago, but i deleted it because it was poorly received and that disappointed me a bit. but now that i was able to read it again, i feel it's a good job and that should be enough for me. i hope you guys like it :). see u next time!

Azriel was your mate. You had known for a couple of months. He knew it long before that, too. The bond snapped first for him, but he never tried to get close to you. You didn't know if it was out of fear or if he never agreed with what was chosen for the two of you by the Cauldron. 

Likewise, you never had time to ask. The battle against the King of Hybern almost cost you your life. You didn't know what things had been done outside of your consciousness to keep you alive, you didn't know what boundaries Rhysand had crossed to bring you back to life, and you never wanted to ask either. You never asked anything, living in that ignorance gave you a sense of peace you didn't want to get rid of. 

But things were never the same after that. From the day you woke up, everything felt different. During that time, you didn't allow yourself much time to delve into what the recent bond between you and Azriel meant, and he always agreed to give you your time. 

However, one day, out of nowhere, it all became too overwhelming. And you decided to run away.

You never said anything to anyone, and you closed the door so Azriel couldn't feel you. You knew it must've been painful for everyone, especially your mate, but being with all of them after everything that had happened was unbearable. You lived under a constant reminder of suffering, violence and blood. You couldn't stop seeing your hands full of blood every time you closed your eyes, guilty for the lives they had taken as if you had had any right to do so, but having to know daily that it was all justified. Velaris and the permanence of the rest of Prythian justified it.

So, you went far away, to the other side of the world, to the east. To the Continent. 

And life was not easy at all. You knew Azriel wasn't having a good time. After a while, the wall you both had built around the bond was beginning to crack and his emotions were seeping through those tiny cracks. You could sometimes feel his sadness, his pain… his anger. After a couple of minutes of heartbreaking grief, the pangs of anger would appear. You could tell what he was going through and, selflessly, you tried to think that your decision was for the best. 

Rhysand wrote to you almost daily. Paper with his handwriting constantly appeared around you and, although you never answered him, he always made it a point to let you know everything that was going on in Velaris. 

The first few days were the hardest. 

There was a heavy snowfall on the Continent when you arrived, something that had never been more than a welcome, tearing at your skin. The cold was so deadly and the gales so lethal that you couldn't leave the apartment you were renting for a whole week. Apparently, at that time, that was normal. The cold that fogged up the windows, that froze your limbs, and that made all signs of life disappear. 

Where are you? Azriel is very worried

Please, answer me 

Y/N 

WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU???? 

Cassian and Azriel are flying over Velaris. Can you just tell me, please? 

Y/N, we are very worried. Please.

Please.

You had a lot of tugging on your bond from Azriel. You could feel his desperation even through the walls of silence. Those were difficult days. The cold days were not comforting at all. 

However, as the months passed, with the cultural difference and the harshness of reality outside of the family you had known for as long as you had memories, so many hundreds of years ago, you gave in to Rhysand's wishes to return to Velaris on the night of the Starfall.

And that night… well, you hadn't told anyone you were going. 

But as you expected, Azriel was the first to know you were there. 

You heard the flutter of his wings before you saw him, towering in the moonlight against the dim lighting in the city in anticipation of the biggest celebration of the year. He stumbled as he fell, being one of the few times you had seen him unable to control his strength, staggering with his feet and hands to get to a safe distance from you. His breathing was rapid, almost erratic and his eyes were bright, crystallized. The stirring movement in your chest brought tears to your eyes. 

Azriel was there in front of you from the moment he had the slight feeling, because he knew the bond wasn't wrong. And his gaze reflected everything. Everything he wanted to say and everything he preferred to keep silent. You had never felt so strongly the need to be close to him; you hadn't even accepted the bond, but you felt as if you had just done it. His eyes roamed the features of your face, his expression contracting as if he was slowly processing that you were really there in front of him. 

You saw him raise one of his hands, the hands that had so often held you in the darkness and through the sadness. If you focused really well, you could almost notice how his body trembled at the closeness, with anticipation, just as your body shuddered at his presence. 

The effects of the bond were powerful. But that hadn't been what made you fall in love with him. 

Azriel took a tentative step forward, reaching out his hands as if in a trance, seeking to touch you to make sure it was really you in front of him and not some kind of hallucination. Your voice stopped him on his feet. 

“Hello, Azriel,” you could barely speak, that suffocating feeling of being close tightening your throat. His eyes moved quickly back to yours and watered once more, his breathing quickening again. You didn't know what you had awakened in him just by speaking to him once more after so long without seeing him, but it must've been the same thing that ignited in your body when he spoke. 

“Y/N,” he elongated your name, like a plea or a prayer, you weren't sure. Electricity coursed through your body in a matter of seconds and you felt your feet move before you could stop them. The emotion rising in your chest matched your mate's expression, nostalgic because it had been so many months since you had last been so close and yet more pained and suffering because you had been the reason all that pain now surrounded you both. 

You stopped just inches away from him, your hands itching with the need to touch him, to feel him close, to once again have that warmth that would warm and thaw your soul. His huge, beautiful wings were taut behind him, being that all his attention was focused on your every move. You saw him hold his breath as you approached, struggling hard to hold back the tears that welled up in his eyes. 

“Are you okay?” you whispered the question, the air stealing your confidence, perhaps feeling a little silly and embarrassed about it. Suddenly, you felt too small under his gaze. 

“Okay?” the change in his voice was hardly imperceptible, sending shivers throughout your body, the panic of fear making its way into your chest, the bond tightening as if both ends were being pulled at the same time. “You left for a year without telling anyone. We went months without knowing if you were okay. I couldn't… I couldn't… feel you.” 

His voice became shaky, each word brimming with a tinge of suppressed anger. 

“Do you think I'm anything close to okay?” 

Yes, it was a stupid question. The knot in your chest grew rapidly, the back of your throat burning with pent-up tears. 

“I can't even enjoy the relief of seeing you now because… I'm so angry.” 

“I know…” you barely mumbled, lowering your head. How could you look him in the eye? Why did you think you had the right to go back as if nothing had happened? It was clear that things weren't going to be like they were before. You weren't sure about the others, but it seemed you had taken some of Azriel with you by disappearing like that. Proud you weren't of your actions, but you didn't know how to explain to his shattered features and cheeks wet with tears that, at that moment, you believed it was the right thing to do. 

The tears in his eyes prompted your own and you sobbed unable to contain the feeling. You tried to regain your composure, because you had no right to show such sadness when you had created it all. But Azriel was faster and you didn't even manage to put your hands under your eyes when his arms wrapped around your shoulders tightly. His wings also surrounded you and, although you had hardly noticed it because of the darkness, you felt his shadows dance around your feet. 

The warmth of his body was automatically welcome. How many times had you imagined that scene in your cold bed on the Continent, all alone and devastated from time to time, with memories invading your mind. Not many times did you regret your decision, except when you thought of Azriel. 

He sobbed too, his hands tightening on your arms, as if he was afraid to let you go again. He probably was. 

“I don't understand what made you think you'd be better off away from us… away from me, but I'm sorry.” 

His words surprised you, but a flood of feelings greeted you from the other end of the bond as Azriel let go and you couldn't think too hard. Crying swirled in the back of your throat. The level of pain and sadness that your mate was handling and had hidden from you for so long was so uncontainable that you almost doubled over, leaning over Azriel's body as you felt it rushing through you. 

“I thought you needed space. I know what happened with Hybern was too much for you and I didn't want to overwhelm you. But if I had known that decision would've made you decide you'd be better off away from me…” Azriel gulped, his voice full of feeling breaking off between words. “If I had known I promise you it would've been different.” 

You couldn't believe Azriel was telling you that. And the feelings coming from his end through the bond confirmed it to you. Azriel felt guilty about your departure. From moment one, when the panic and fear dissipated, Azriel never stopped feeling that it had been his responsibility that you decided to leave. And he couldn't have been more wrong. You loved him, had loved him long before the bond appeared, but the things that happened after Hybern, that affected you, had nothing to do with him. 

“Azriel…” 

“I'm supposed to be your mate. I'm supposed to support you, help you when you're down. I don't understand how I could fail at that. I'm sorry,” his voice was muffled as he spoke with his face hidden in your neck. At no time did he let go of you and his wings kept you warm. At that moment, that was home. 

“I promise it's not your fault,” you managed to speak, your face pressed against his chest. 

“I was supposed to be with you, accompanying you, but I-” 

“Azriel, you didn't do anything wrong,” you fought against his tight grip so you could look him in the eyes and the tears running down his cheeks broke your heart once again. 

“Then why did you leave?” 

You didn't have an answer for that and Azriel realized it when your lips pursed. He sighed, as best he could, and drew you back into his arms. Maybe he didn't need an answer at that moment, just having you by his side was more than enough. 

With the others it wasn't much easier. 

Rhysand and Feyre almost wept at your feet. Cassian, on the other hand, didn't hide it and deliberately filled your shoulder with tears and saliva. Mor lifted you into the air and almost didn't let you escape when Azriel started begging her to let you go already. Everyone cried. Possibly even Feyre's sisters shed a tear or two. 

You felt calm for a while. Complete, as if you were back in that house, in that home, before Amarantha and Hybern destroyed everything for you. 

But things couldn't be perfect. After the Starfall, you began to feel that anxiety again. Azriel could only tell by your body language, because you still kept your end of the bond completely closed to him and he couldn't feel the swirl of emotions coursing through your body. You had barely had time to get used to the familiarity of the situation when all the memories came flooding back. Perhaps you had blocked them out during your absence living on the Continent, you weren't sure, but the cries of war began to haunt you from the back of your mind. 

Azriel's shadows were also restless and that was another way he could tell something was going on. He was almost glued to your side all night, watching you out of the corner of his eye when you stepped away to talk to some friends. He never let you out of his sight. You knew where this behavior was coming from, but it never occurred to you to comment on it at any time. 

So, by that time, Azriel knew what was going on and you were sure you couldn't escape him. When he approached you and extended his hand in silent invitation, with the sound of conversations and drinks in the back of your head, you almost didn't hesitate to take it. His darkness enveloped you and, within seconds, you appeared in your room at the Town House. The party was now an imperceptible murmur. 

“Would you like to rest?” Azriel spoke, after spending several seconds standing facing each other. One of his hands ran over your face barely perfunctorily, but the warm sensation ignited too many things in your body. He arranged the strands of your hair that hid your face behind your ears with delicate, almost invisible movements. 

You only moved your head in response, up and down, under his watchful gaze. 

He almost crawled away, moving to your old bed that didn't have the same sheets as when you left. In fact, when you took a quick glance around the room, it looked too neat considering the amount of time that, presumably, no one used it. 

You shrunk at the thought of Azriel coming in regularly to clean it. 

With crystallized eyes you watched him move the comforter to make way for the clean white sheets waiting to be used once again after so long. 

Azriel turned to look at you, expectant. You didn't know if he was waiting for you to move to lie down or to ask him to leave so you could change into comfortable pajamas, but you did neither. Not when the emotions in your chest moved you, when they were more uncontainable now that you shared your mate's. Not when he opened up to you in such a vulnerable way, when he let you know that which for so long he kept to himself. Not when he gave you to understand that he was always waiting for you, even though it hurt him terribly that you had decided to spend all that time alone. 

So, for some reason, whether it was feelings or rationality, you approached him. You let yourself be carried away by nostalgia, by the silent desires of your heart, and you approached your mate with long strides. 

His expression went from neutral to confused as you got closer and you only remembered seeing it turn to surprise when you cradled his face in your hands and kissed him. 

It was rough and awkward at first, because your mate was completely transfixed for a few seconds. Maybe out of anxiety you counted ten. But, whether he was born from the same place as you or not, Azriel melted under your touch and as soon as he came to his senses he was kissing you back. It was just the kiss of an unaccepted bond, of a separated couple who held too many melancholy memories in their chests to bear on their own. 

Azriel wrapped his strong arms around your waist and bent his head to kiss you more deeply. You could feel the desperation and desire hovering tentatively in his demeanor, but he held back to give you a sweet, soft kiss; a kiss that said welcome, a kiss that urged you to stay by your side and never be separated from him again, a kiss that made you wonder why you had left in the first place. 

The softness of his movements were a direct contrast to your own. You cradled his face tightly, moving your lips over his as if second nature. Then you circled his neck, pressing him against you as if somehow you could hold him that much closer. You wanted him closer. 

But Azriel broke away, breathing in and out between gasps, and looked up at you with dark, glowing eyes. 

“Do you want this?” 

His hands on your skin burned. 

“Yes,” you answered quickly and tried to move closer again to kiss him, but he broke away again. 

“And are you going to stay after this?” 

Your eyes met his worried expression, thinly disguised. Ever since he'd opened his end of the bond for you, shedding any obstacle on his part that wouldn't allow him to feel you, everything you'd seen from him had been genuine. So you knew that concern was genuine and the mere conception generated pain in your heart. 

“I will stay,” you assured him, forcing your lips into a tight smile. 

Azriel studied your face trying to convince himself of your words, for he was an expert at knowing your body language, and you had no idea what he saw that convinced him and led him to pounce on your mouth once more. 

When the lightness settled into the bond, you were thankful you had never lowered your wall. Guilt suffocated you. 

But you kissed him back and followed your heart's desires, if only for one night. 

Azriel moved his hands along every curve of your body before removing your dress. If you hadn't stopped his movements, he would've surely ripped it off. His eyes followed every part his hands had explored and then his lips were on every inch of skin. Against the soft mattress and with your wrists held by his hands, you could only sigh and moan slightly at the way he explored your body. And yes, Azriel took his time. 

Before long there wasn't a single cloth separating the two of you and your mate simply couldn't keep his hands and lips still. Not that he wanted to, either. You moved your hands along his back, trying to avoid his wings, and moving your lips down his neck when he would let you because it seemed like all he wanted to do was eat you up with kisses. 

It wasn't long before he had you panting against him, with the sound of bodies colliding being the only thing your head could process at that moment. The tingling that coursed through your body was like no other you had ever felt; the wonders Azriel was doing with your body were unparalleled. He was panting too and every time he met your eyes it seemed to you that they were darker than the last time, but he never stopped holding you at any moment, never stopped hugging you as if his whole life depended on it. Maybe it did. 

The feel of his body against yours was indescribable, the movement and rhythm almost unbearable. You had never felt pleasure even remotely close to what he was making you feel at that moment. 

“Azriel…” you moaned his name, gripping his shoulders tightly, burying your nails as if it were your only stability. 

He cursed between gasps, increasing the pace and the force with which he held your waist. 

You were never going to get to touch the sky like you did that night, that much was clear. Even though your head was split in two, you looked into his eyes as you went through the most shattering, sweeping orgasm you'd ever had, reveling in the sounds that came from his mouth as he followed you to paradise. 

You thought it was going to be hard afterwards, but you fell asleep almost instantly. 

When you opened your eyes again, your mate's arms and legs were wrapped around your body and one of his wings was covering your nakedness and keeping you warm. You were facing him, chest to chest, and just looking at his peaceful sleeping face made you want to cry. Life was here, next to him, why couldn't you accept that? 

Getting out of bed without waking him up was quite a battle. Not as much as it was to sit at the foot of the bed, watching him rest, completely unaware of what would await him when he woke up. This time you were being selfish, you knew it, it was too cruel. But in your head there was nothing but disaster, pain disguised as stability. You couldn't have a good life with Azriel now and you didn't know if you could bear to see him to tell him after you promised to stay. You shouldn't have told him that, but how could you tell him otherwise? Maybe if he woke up at that moment you would stay… maybe that's why you sat there for so long. 

But finally you left, just like last time, in the middle of the silence, with his shadows following your feet and trying to keep you company. You felt a deja-vu as you stood in front of the door, thinking about how on both occasions you were thinking about what would happen if someone showed up to stop you. 

It didn't, in either case, and you knew the next day the exact moment when Azriel realized you had done it once again. He didn't try to hide his pain, he didn't have to, you deserved to know how you had made him feel. 

On the ship, on the way to the Continent, you fell to your knees as his pain stole your breath. 

[sugojosgf]

flaky toji 🗣️🗣️🗣️

angst + smut + hurt no comfort

it's right after an argument, so he fucks you like he hates you. words of apology lost in air because both of you knew it would just go back to whatever it was before.

he'll bet against a losing horse again, you'll accidentally call megumi your son, both of you turn a blind eye to the future because any apology is better than bitter silence.

he has you on all fours, his hand wrapping your hair as he pulls you back with such force, you begin to see stars behind your eyes. "fuck! take it-" he groans, when he pounds into you, balls slapping against your skin.

"tooo-toji, can't!!" you whimper out, unable to take any more. your arms weak, from his continuous thrusts, give out and you fall on the bed, face mushed against your pillows.

the air is so dizzy with the smell of sweat and skin with both of your moans bouncing off the walls. you can feel him pulsing inside you, pain and pleasure dancing together.

you start to sob because of how good it feels, tears ruining the makeup you had done earlier. streaks of mascara ran down your soft cheeks and your lipstick smeared all over your lips. your tongue lolls out and your eyes cross and you can't breathe anymore.

"toj,,,,a little slower please- please my love." you whisper with the last shred of willpower left and something changes.

he hadn't been called that in years, and the last time he was called someone's love...

toji stops and pulls out, his cock covered in your juices. he holds your hips, right at your love handles and softly enters you again.

it's different the way he fucks, no makes love to you. it's soft caresses and gentle kisses on your shoulder, slow fulfilling thrusts that don't hurt you with the sudden stretch. it feels like he almost loves you this way. almost.

he makes you arch and revels in your beauty, the tasteful nature of your dip. his calloused hands travel down to your clit and he plays with it, writes his initial on it.

"you are so pretty f'me." he mutters when you come on his cock. even when you whine that it's too much, he doesn't stop.

"i'm almost there-" he groans, "you are so beautiful mama, only for me." as he fills you up. sticky cum dripping out of you even as he keeps you plugged.

and then he tells you how much he loves you,,,

but was it really for you when he's calling you by another woman's name? the same one that the son you consider your own, calls at night when he can't sleep? the one that's actually married to him on paper?

"toji?" you turn to look at him, ears ringing when you hear her name. "i'm not her."

"huh?-" his eyes widen. he sees your face flushed, and eyes glossed with tears threatening to spill. your pretty lips held between your teeth as you try not to sob. he sees the way you look at him, but he also sees that you are not what he wants to look at.

"fuck."

[moonlightperseus]

breathe in the feeling

ambiguously set after the first half of s7 | 867 words

Being in love with Buck wasn’t an option.

It can’t be an option.

Because if it was, Eddie might do something stupid, like kiss his best friend.

Which is—not an option.

Eddie’s done that song and dance before, and that ended badly—leaving and being left, divorce papers, blood on hot asphalt.

But the thing is, Eddie can’t stop thinking about it. It’s been over a month since Buck came out to him, and Eddie can’t stop thinking about how Buck is an option now.

Which isn’t even entirely true, because Buck is with Tommy—Buck is happy with Tommy—and Eddie feels like his entire world is collapsing in on itself.

He broke up with Marisol last week, something that up until this moment, he hadn’t told anyone, not even Christopher—which he knows he can only avoid for so long.

He’s not even sure why he’s telling Bobby, because now Bobby is staring at him quizzically and Eddie is feeling closer to a panic attack than he’s been in a long time.

“You broke up with Marisol,” Bobby repeats back to him, because he’s been waiting for Eddie to continue and Eddie has made a point out of staring at his hands and not saying anything as his brain spirals. “Do you want to talk about that?”

“No,” Eddie says, because he really doesn’t—but he sucks in a sharp breath and rips the band-aid off anyways, “I think I might be in love with Buck.”

Bobby doesn’t say anything for what feels like an eternity.

Eddie finally gives in and looks at him, Bobby’s face is a carefully crafted blank expression—he’s processing the information Eddie has given him, but he’s not going to give any reaction in the meantime.

Eddie resists dropping his head against the table and instead settles for staring at the dormant alarm bell on the wall and hoping for it to start ringing to save him from this situation.

“I see,” Bobby says finally, “that’s… that must be a lot for you to process.”

“Understatement of the century,” Eddie mumbles, allowing himself to drop his head into his hands—it’s not quite as satisfying as the thunk of his forehead against the table would be.

“So how long have you been… processing this?”

“I don’t know, a couple weeks, maybe—” —my whole life, possibly, he doesn’t say.

A hand lands on his shoulder, the touch is gentle and grounding, and Eddie is reminded of why he went to Bobby in the first place.

“Eddie,” Bobby says carefully, “there’s nothing wrong with it—being in love with Buck. If that is how you feel, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Eddie exhales slowly, because that’s the whole thing, isn’t it? “I know that—logically, I know that. I’ve never had a problem with—I guess it’s different, when it’s yourself. But it’s not like it’s even—I mean, Buck’s with Tommy—Buck’s happy with Tommy—and Tommy’s my friend too, so it is kind of wrong, in a way.” 

“Buck being in a relationship with someone else doesn’t make your feelings for him invalid—or wrong. Sure, maybe it’s a little complicated since you consider them both friends. But whatever you’re feeling—you’re allowed to feel it.” 

“But what am I supposed to do with it?” Eddie finally meets Bobby’s gaze, “I mean—I feel like I’m lying to Buck, somehow, by feeling this way—by not saying anything.”

“Maybe you don’t have to do anything with it, at least—not right away,” Bobby squeezes his shoulder before removing his hand, “maybe right now you just let yourself feel it. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be honest with Buck, but I think maybe you should start by allowing yourself to be honest with you.” 

Eddie stares at Bobby, completely and painfully aware of his own heart beating in his chest, it’s not a panic attack, but he knows it’s a warning sign. 

He takes a moment to breathe slowly, the way Frank taught him. Bobby says nothing, waiting patiently 

“I don’t know what that looks like.” Eddie says honestly. 

Bobby offers him a kind smile, “That’s okay, you don’t have to have it all figured out, but maybe allow yourself the time to really think about it?”

“What if I lose him?” The words spill out of him unbidden. 

“Eddie, if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that you and Buck have a way of finding each other, no matter the circumstance, the two of you will always fight to find each other again.” 

Eddie blinks, and for a moment, all he sees is Buck, covered in Eddie’s own blood, begging for him to hold on. 

He blinks again, and the memory fades, and it’s just Bobby sitting there in front of him, watching him carefully.

“Let yourself feel it, Eddie,” Bobby says gently, “and when you’re ready—talk to Buck.”

The bell rings then, because timing never seems to be on Eddie’s side. 

Bobby sighs softly, “well, duty calls.”

Bobby stands to head towards the engine bay, but before Eddie can do the same, Bobby rests a hand on his shoulder again, “I’m really proud of you, Eddie.”

He lets the words settle over him for a moment—breathing slowly in and out—and then follows after his Captain. 

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

congrats on 1k!!! can i have Q and 🥵?

Thank you so much! 🥰

This was ... less angsty and more smutty in my head. 😅

Guiding light

Rated: E

Words: 997

Tags: Post-Vecna; Kas!Eddie Munson; monster!Eddie Munson; rough sex; monsterfucking; angst; hopeful ending

He doesn't know what pulls him in.

He doesn’t know a lot of things, these days.

The portals have closed. Master is dead. So are his siblings. The comforting buzz of their claws and wings and voices in his head, the cold, familiar slither of their minds against his, it's all gone.

It’s dreadfully empty, all alone in his head. His mind flails like a bird the dark, released from the confines of its … house? prison? A thing with bars, he doesn’t know the word. It’s lost somewhere in the void and he can’t grasp it, doesn’t know how to reach for it. Doesn’t remember.

That’s how the golden glow flickering beyond the trees finds him - naked in the night, stumbling around without aim. He doesn’t know why he follows it.

The house is dark, half-destroyed from the ground tremors. The light pulses from a window above him. A … a tiny fire thing. A candle.

A candle to light his way, like something from a … another thing he doesn’t remember the word for, a thing with words on pages that takes you to far-off worlds, a thing that smells of ink, paper, dust. A thing he used to … love.

The distant echo of the feeling makes his head erupt in pain, makes something horribly warm bubble in his chest. He scales the wall, using his tail and wings for support, ready to snuff out the tiny light.

“There you are.”

A whisper, barely more than a breath floating on air. He whips around as if yanked by a leash, fangs bared.

There’s a … sleep thing in the corner of the room. Blankets and pillows that smell of comfort, warmth, rest - but that isn’t what makes his mouth water and his stomach churn with a terrible, primal feeling. A feeling that’s close to hunger but not quite.

It's the figure sitting on top of the thing. A boy with eyes that are bright in the flickering candlelight, eyes brimming with emotions he doesn’t know.

But he knows those eyes.

The warm thing in his chest explodes, like boiling liquid eating at his insides. He roars in pain and confusion and fear and launches himself at the boy. He wants to shred, he wants to maim, he wants the burning to stop, he wants the emptiness to go away, he wants, he wants, he wants-

Something touches his face, something soft and light. A hand. He has the boy pinned, claws digging into his shoulders, ripping through the fabric of his shirt. Fangs inches from his throat, breath hot against his pulse.

There's no fear in those eyes. Instead, those lips - soft and inviting and familiar - curl into a smile.

“I thought I'd never see you again,” says the boy, fingers slipping up to his temples, gently combing aside the tangled curtain of his hair.

He doesn’t know gentle.

Then why does he remember it?

He peels back his lips and hisses, wings flaring out, tail slicing the air like a whip.

“It’s okay,” says the boy. His hand tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, slowly, tenderly and the warm thing coils in his chest, in his abdomen. “I know you're in there, Eddie.”

The pain in his skull turns blinding white. The word … the name ricochets in the empty cavern of his mind and his chest pulls with want, so hard he thinks it might crack open.

The boy's eyes are bright like the candle. Pulling him in. His claws shred through fabric, exposing soft skin, patterns of moles like … sky things. Stars.

“Go ahead,” says the boy. “I'm here. Take what you need.”

He doesn’t know what he needs.

But he thinks he remembers.

*

He doesn't know gentle, but the boy does.

His claws can only leave gashes and cuts, but those hands can tease and caress. His fangs can only bite and tear, but those lips leave kisses and whispered words of endearment. He's death and destruction and cold, but the boy is warmth and kindness and life.

He shouldn’t want that warmth, but he does. And he takes it. Takes it in all the ways he knows and all the ways he remembers.

The boy doesn't stop him once. Not when he pushes inside of him with a brutality that punches the breath from his chest in a hoarse whimper. Not when the force of his thrusts makes the sleep thing … the bed … groan and creak. Not when his claws leave bruises and draw blood, not when his tail wraps around the boy's throat, leaving him gasping for breath underneath him.

By the time he spills inside of that warmth and collapses on top of the boy, spent and exhausted and finally sated, the candle has burnt to a small stub and the sky beyond the window is turning brighter. Birdsong reaches his ears and he snarls reluctantly.

“You need to go?”

The boy's smile is tired and slow, and a little sad. He's beautiful in the waxing light, skin littered in marks. Marks he left there. The warm feeling blooms in his chest again. He thinks he could get used to the pain if means seeing that smile again.

“That’s alright.” Fingers combing through his hair, lips tracing the ruined remains of pictures etched into his skin. “I'll leave the candle burning so you can find me again, now that you know the way.”

He whines, even as he disentangles himself from the boy's embrace. He doesn’t know gentle, but he still presses his lips to the long stretch of that throat one last time, fangs scraping over bruised and bitten skin.

The boy sighs and melts into the touch.

“I'll get you back, Eddie. No matter how long it takes.”

He doesn't know gentle, and he doesn’t know the person that name belongs to.

But the darkness is a little bit thinner now. And he thinks that some day, he might remember.

Steve guiding Eddie back to himself through unhinged monsterfucking? Why not?

More celebration ficlets

[forsworned]

DREAM BLUNT ROTATION ft. HIGHAF!POLY141

Synopsis: Silly 141 getting high with reluctant but experienced reader, happy belated 420 yall

Warning(s): Drug Use, Poly!141, AFAB!Reader, Sexually Suggestive?? Barely Proofread (i'm dyslexic sorry)

"This is an awful idea..."

Kyle's tone is halting as he observes the way, Johnny begins to pick apart the large bud of weed and spreads it out on the rolling papers that Simon purchased not too long ago. Simon wouldn't say where he pawned off the necessary ingredients for a good blunt, and neither he nor Johnny were going to ask.

"Don't be such a wet blanket, Kyle." Simon quips at the uneasy Sergeant.

Johnny snorts as he brushes off the stickiness of the bud and the aroma is rich, sweet, and pungent as it fills the Lieutenant's dorm. If they received any disciplinary action, Simon would take the fall (which was mighty presumptuous of him being that all the resin glands were on Johnny's fingertips, but they digress).

"Ease off on him, L.t.. He's the teacher's pet amongst us, like." Johnny winks at Kyle.

Kyle's face contorts in disgust and betrayal. "Piss off, MacTavish."

This sends the troublesome pair into a fit of giggles, but suddenly the door opens and they're all jostled by the new company. You freeze as you look at the three bozos lounging around in Simon's room. Crushed-up cans and empty bottles of ale were tossed around the room, half a eaten pizza left out on the coffee table where Johnny was busy rolling up a joint.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Your tone is exasperated and beyond wanting to comprehend why in the entire fuck they were deciding to roll up in the Lieutenant's room.

"Why." It wasn't even a question. You really just demanded an answer at this point.

"I didn't—" Kyle is the first to open his mouth, but you close your eyes and hold your hand up to stop him. You shake your head and then sharply exhale as you shut the door behind you.

"Good girl." Simon sarcastically praises as you wordlessly sit next to Kyle.

Johnny giggles at the way your cheeks puff up in embarrassment as you tuck in your legs and lean comfortably to the side.

"Fuck you." You spat at him. "I could have you reported."

"Under what jurisdiction?"

You sit there with a disgruntled expression on your face and you're aware of the smug look that hides behind his stupid balaclava-clad face. Johnny isn't even high yet, but he's giggling like a maniac at everything Simon says. It's the thrill of getting caught red-handed with contraband and bloodshot eyes that makes him lightheaded and giddy. Not that they were bound by any real-world laws or regulations because the 141 operated outside the chain of command, but Price finding out would certainly be a damper in their mood.

But your frown turns into an evil simper. "I'll tell, Price."

And the mood drops for a moment, but Simon loves to challenge you. It's practically etched into his DNA to rile you up in any way he can.

"Go ahead, ducky."

"Don't call me that."

And Simon's hit a nerve, but that all seems to dissipate as soon as Johnny places the rolled-up joint between his lips and sparks up. The first sweet inhale relaxes every rigid nerve in the Scotsman's body as he passes it off to his Lieutenant and leans against the wall. Simon lifts his mask and your jaw ticks at his exposed flesh. His lips are a pretty pink that wraps around the spliff, before toking the absolute fuck out of it and holding it in before exhaling it out through his nose.

The pair exchange a look before nodding and grinning at each other. "Tha's good shit, maaate."

"C'mon, Kyle." Simon coos, beckoning him over. Kyle moves ever so slightly in his direction, but your hand grasps his wrists halting him back.

"Oh, come now, [name]. Don' be uptight. 's all good vibes round 'ere." The masked idiot smirks at you before passing it off. Kyle glances over at your disapproving stare before hesitantly taking a hit. It doesn't even take a second before he's coughing his lungs out and Simon and Johnny are cackling, keeling over on the tiny bunk. You think it may break under their weight at any given moment, but that's just wishful thinking.

"That's not how you do it, Kyle." You chide, seizing the joint from him and you're drawing in the smoke yourself as you demonstrate the proper way of inhaling it. Simon and Johnny go silent as they observe you clearly very shocked by your sudden volunteer.

"Gotta hold it properly." You bring the joint to your lips, comfortably positioning it between your fingers. "Don't inhale too quickly, or you'll cough your lungs out like you did just now. Take your time and hold it before releasing it, slowly." You indicate to him once more and the THC unravels months of built-up tension embedded in your body now that you got a proper hit.

You peer down at the spliff as you exhale the smoke. "Damn, that's good shit. Where did you twats get this?" Chuckling a bit at your usage of their own slang on them.

"Though' we were pourin' poison in the well, but the water is already spiked, it seems." Simon is lying back against the wall, propped up on his elbow with one leg flat and the other is bolstered up. He's relaxed as hell, surveying you like a cat as his tail swishes around with piquing interest. And Johnny is like his orange cat counterpart, licking his paws and rubbing his head as they lounge together on cloud nine.

"Mmm, she's always been like that. Naughty lassie." Johnny teases as he moves closer to you. He's sitting on your right as he eyes the way Kyle successfully follows your directions.

"Aye, tha's a good lad." Johnny praises, rubbing his thigh and Kyle is blinking up at him with hazy, honeyed eyes.

And for some reason you're taking offense to that. "Hey what about me?" You pout at him.

And he's beaming when his baby blues flicker to you. Calloused palm flattening against the expanse of your exposed flesh, riddling your thigh with gooseberries. There is a slight snatch in your breath as he caresses you but you don't move away and it's quickly starting to feel a little heavy as you feel everyone's eyes on you.

But before your body can even react, the door is getting barged into and there stands a very irate Price who literally looks like steam is pouring out of his ears. And just when you think that you're all about to get your asses handed to you, Price plucks the spliff from Kyle's fingers, opens the window and everyone is clamoring to rise from their seats thinking that he's going to toss it out. But you're all dead wrong.

My mans is taking the biggest puff out of all four of you before he jovially steeps the smoke out of his nostrils and he's nodding in approval, "Aye, tha's good shit."

There's a collective sigh of relief that settles upon the 141 before Simon speaks.

"Christ, Boss, least warn us."

"Thought y' were gonna bite o'r heads off." Johnny leans against the window sill, left of his Captain.

Price chuckles as he takes another brief toke before passing it off to Simon who was on his right.

"I should've, you lot were gonna finish it before I even got a toke."

Simon gazes over at you from where he's posted, inhaling the last few hits of the blunt, but you and Kyle are fucking zooted. I'm talkin heads rolled back against the couch cushions and you're gone.

And he is choking on the smoke as he laughs at the both of you before Johnny and Price glance over and join him. Their giggles attract your hazy attention and you lazily toss a pillow at the back of Johnny's head. But then you're cowering away as he approaches you in a jokingly menacing manner, wrapping his arms around you like he's about to perform a tickle attack.

The sound of your stomach growling rips through the silliness and he pouts at you and rubs your belly.

"You hungry, ducky?" Price is towering over you from behind the couch you are situated at, tucking the stray hairs behind your ear and you feel your cheeks warming up at your Captain's sedative voice.

You nod at him with a giddy smile, and before Price even opens his mouth Kyle is pulling up his Uber Eats app to order everyone's go-to Chinese take-out meals.

And as Price is extolling his Sergeant by lightly massaging his shoulders, Simon is taking your chin between his fingers and tilting his head at you.

"Y'got everyone at y'r beck an' call, ducky." But the nickname no longer has its previous bitterness. It's replaced with endearment as he pinches your cheek and that draws out a smile from you.

"Didn' know ye were s'experienced." Johnny's warm breath fans over your neck and you're starting to feel a buzz that's reminiscent of your uni days.

You hum in response as you feel Price's fingers gently scratch at your scalp, and there's a gentle euphoria that warms you to your bones.

"Quit yappin' her ear off." Price scolds the two, but something about the way you're being simultaneously taunted and dotted over is starting to ignite a bit of desire within you.

You shut your eyes and all your senses feel elevated as you're being coddled on all sides. And as much as Simon loves getting under your skin, there is something about the way you're blissfully sitting there not having a care in the world as everyone trills around you.

"Like a kitten." He warbles, caressing your cheek and you lean into his touch.

"A very cute kitten." Johnny nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck as his fingers brush against your knee. A giggle leaves your lips and you're squirming away from his ticklish stubble.

But every way you're moving, you're in the hands of a different man who's relishing in your coquettish behavior. It's overstimulating really. So, the minute you hear wrapping at the front door you're jumping out of your seat to check out who's behind the peephole.

But it feels like a slo-mo scene as you're running away from the giggly, dazed men who follow closely behind you. By the time you're reaching the door, Johnny has already tripped over the end table, Simon is heaving for air and slipping over the barstools in the kitchen in a loud clatter, Price is attempting to help them both up but can't stop laughing his ass off and Kyle, well, mans is passed out on the couch with his mouth wide open.

You can hardly even contain yourself as you open the door, and the delivery man on the other side is flummoxed yet amused at the men in the background and then there was you. Giddy as hell, palms facing up with the most bloodshot eyes.

And before he can even get a word out, Johnny is wrapping his arms around your waist and carrying you back to the couch while Price is sending him off with a wad of cash as he grabs the food.

"Chattin' up the delivery lads, aye?" Johnny teases, as he pulls you into his lap and begins to tickle you. The smell of food is waking Kyle up from his little half-baked nap and he's ruffling your hair as food is being passed out.

"She doesn't need to bother. She's too fit for that." Kyle opens up his kung pao chicken and the smell floods into your nostrils, but he's already on it. "Say 'ahh'." He lifts the chopsticks to feed you the delicious morsels and you happily accept it with a jubliant hum.

"Spoiled little thing." Price chirps as he shoves his lo mein into his mouth. The sauce coats the corners of his mouth and the ends of his stache.

"An' who's fault is that?" Simon gestures at his Captain with his chopsticks. It was true. As their Captain, naturally, they fell in line behind him, so when they saw how he would pamper you excessively they would do it too. And not because of the fact that they were good little soldiers, but because it opened the doorway for them to openly chat you up or (consensually) feel up on you.

Price lets out a hearty laugh. "Ah, bullshit! The minute you lot clocked the opportunity to grab her, you were all over it!"

Johnny licks his lips as you feed him a crab rangoon. "Can ye blame us?"

You quickly cover his mouth with your hand and scrunch your nose up at him. "Don't talk with your mouth full, Johnny!"

He playfully nibbles at your hand and you're then being scooped up by Kyle, who is more than happy to accept your weight in his lap. And Johnny is moaning about how you're being stolen away.

"She's not being swiped if she's scarpering off by herself!" Kyle laughs as he's swatting away any attempts at Johnny trying to confiscate you back.

So, of course, Price wants to dig his heels into Simon when he sees how lackadaisical he is.

"Simon couldn't pull her even if he gave it a good go."

Dark, piercing eyes dangerously flicker to the smug Captain who lays back against the arm chair, sipping on his ale and waits as he takes the bait. One thing that Simon doesn't like is when someone's threatening his hold on his position in any type of situation that especially being you.

"I don't need t'bother." He retorts, taking a sip of his own drink as he man spreads on the sofa.

"Oh, and why's that?" Price is intrigued now. Simon narrows his eyes at him but continues to stuff his face with food, sticky bits of rice garnish the sides of his mouth. This doesn't stop the Captain from pressing the matter and it's now starting to capture your attention as Johnny misses your mouth when he attempts to feed you some stir fry and it stains for your cheek instead.

But Simon is effortlessly patient and cool as a cucumber when he's being dogged on by everyone now, and you're observing the situation closely. He carefully wipes his mouth with a napkin, takes a last swig of his drink before he gets up to clean up after himself. And Price is almost convinced that Simon has given up as used, balled up napkins are being tossed at him by Johnny and Kyle, but in one swift movement you're being tossed over the behemoth's shoulder. A squeak barely manages to escape you as he pats your ass and the others are scrambling to get you as they playfully jest at Simon.

"Ah, no fair!" Johnny tugs at Simon's waistband, and lets go with a loud snap to his pelvis.

"Unhand her!" Kyle laughs as he tries to grab your foot, but he's only left with your ankle sock.

And while those two idiots finally gather themselves to give in to chasing after him, Simon is booking it to his room, and Price is left cackling on the armchair enjoying the rest of his meal.

"Simon!" You giggle, as he's enforcing the door and locking it with one arm as you barely dangle off his shoulder.

He balances you out just for a moment before he tosses you onto his bed and successfully turns the lock. Johnny and Kyle's shouting can be heard on the other side of the door, but Simon doesn't seem to give two fucks as he's approaching you. You're laid out on his bed, cheeks flustered when he towers over you, grasps your wrist, and raises them above your head.

And as his lips are hovering above yours the door is getting busted into as Simon is getting tackled to the floor as the Sergeants hold him down. Your eyes ream at the little giggly clusterfuck, and then in strolls Price who sits on the end of the bed and scoops you into his arms. You feel dizzy in his warmth as you snuggle against him and he kisses the top of your head.

You begin to realize something while you watch Simon turn into a cackling mess as he's being simultaneously tickled mercilessly by Johnny and Kyle. Price has a triumphant smile plastered on his face. It creeps up slowly on you, but he had succeeded in properly baiting all three men, so he could get his way with you.

His azure hues shift to you and he's kissing your cheek. It makes your heart flutter, but you're shaking your head at him when he's gazes down at you with that impish expression.

"Naughty little minx." You wave your finger at him with a bubbly smile. And he's hiding his face in the crook of your neck, tittering away because he knows he's been caught red-handed.

[valsdelulucorner]

Floyd Head cannons<3

Floyd loves finding his little shrimp hanging out with their friend group or doing work in class, it makes his day. He normally runs over and pushes whoever is talking to you out of the way as he flings himself at you, squeezing you tightly in his arms before scurrying off like nothing happened, leaving you and your company very confused.

Hes 100% the type of guy to say "this ones for you" and completely miss the basketball hoop, instead hauling the ball at one of his teammates while looking so incredibly proud

To be honest if you came to twisted wonderland as a rock climber or a sprinter, he would have the time of his life chasing you around. He's never seen someone as fast as his little shrimpy, you actually give him a challenge. Can you imagine his shock if you just start to sprint up a tree or the side of the wall on campus. You catch his attention originally by climbing somewhere high to pull grim out of a tree, or even seeing you sprint by to try and reach class before the bell rings. You give him a challenge, it intrigues him

Because your a rock climber, your strong right? Imagine your just walking with your normal group before feeling something heavy lunge at you and hold onto you in the piggy back position. You can easily keep him held up right and he will just be a giggling mess, your friends worried for you as floyd remains completely supported on your back. They eventually call jade and azul and they are also shocked to see you just standing calmly, having a floyd full on bear hugging you with all four of his limbs. Maybe you would be a good security person in the Monstro lounge

If you were scared of him, his reaction would depend on how much he likes you. If he only likes to bother you every now and then, not trying to actually start a conversation or a friendship with you, he would 100% use this to his advantage, having you do things for him and azul

If he cares about you alot more, finding you interesting and wanting to be your friend, he would be so very pouty and probably ask you straight up if you actually like him or just hang out with him because your scared of him. If he is head over heals for you or if he sees that its actually bothering you badly, he will try his best to gain your trust better and have you not scared of him. It isnt fun if his little shrimpy avoids him because of his games

Ok hear me out, if Floyd gets to overwhelmed or just far to overstimulated, he turns back into his eel-mer form, just complaining and not wanting to be bothered. If you are with Floyd or if he trusts you a lot like a best friend, you might be able to comfort him in this state. Octavinelle has some massive tanks around its dorm so you will most likely be able to find him there swimming around in his true form. be careful when approaching the top of the tank, if you aren't careful he might try and pull you in. If you guys are dating or if you both are close, he will full on lunge himself at you and squeeze you, resting against you as his lower half remains in the water. Prepare to have some numb legs because you will not be able to pry him off until he stops ranting, you will leave when he feels like it shrimpy

Study dates normally end up as literally anything else dates. You guys are studying together to make sure you guys pass the upcoming exam? He will grow board and probably either lean against you or start making paper airplanes to throw at you. Its boring shirmpy!

Once he starts to fall for you, he will be confused why his heart beats so fast around you when you smile or laugh at him. Your defiantly not a threat, he can easily overpower you. He isn't scared of you, there is nothing about you that is intimidating to him. so why is his heart beating this quickly? He will go to Azul and Jade and just mope around, telling them that he feels funny whenever your around. Jade chuckles as he explains to floyd why he feels like that, azul just looks annoyed as they are both now slacking from their job

He likes that your quite calm around him unlike the other people he normally goes off to bother, you actually can be around him for long periods of time without making him board or annoyed?! He will never say it or even admit it to himself but he really appreciates you more then he knows, he likes having his little shrimpy around

I like the head cannon that floyd teeths (teevths?), he likes chewy types of food and stuff that he can just chew on. Calamari, mints, gum, chewy meats, carrots, really cheesy foods, so many different types of noodles, heck! even some types of edible coral. If he doesn't have anything around him to use, he will chew on your cheeks. He wont make you bleed necessarily, he Justs like to have that mouth stimulation

Calls you "shrimpy" "guppy" "Koebi chan" "Little shrimp"

I feel like he is the type of person to sit and lay in the most random poses during the most random times. Your in ramshackle together? His legs are folded together in the air while he lays on his back, arms splayed out as he just talks to you like its normal.

When the octo-trio first saw grass, jade and azul had to hold floyd back from taking a bite out of the grass

He loves to cuddle you when you two are alone, even deciding to cuddle you in public. He loves holding you in his arms while he rests his face against your neck, having your chin rest on top of his head while you play with his hair. In public, he will be more modest and probably just sit next to you and rest his head on you, he likes lettng the other little guppies see that your his

Floyd loves to randomly steal you away, picking you up easily before dragging you to the monstro lounge for some drinks and food

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I know this was abit different to my other fics and im sorry if it isnt that good. This was difficult to write because im in abit of a writers rut right now, but im enjoying the way it turned out! He was fun to write about but i do think i could have done better

Who should i do next?

[arealphrooblem]

Kidnapped by the Boss Part 7

Hey guys! Sorry it's been like a million years since I updated anything! I got burned out for a while and I'm slowly getting back to it. Hopefully with summer break looming, you'll see more of me!

Synopsis: Civilian is a secretary to the Prime Minster. But when the political summit between the city states goes awry, she finds herself kidnapped by the very boss she tried to protect and nothing is what it seems.

Part one here

Part six here

"What is this?”

It looked harmless, a small metal rectangular wrist band with no buttons or engraving or adornment of any kind. She didn’t trust it, regardless, not that that mattered to Rook, who kept his explanations to himself as he grabbed her hand. She tried to jerk it back, but his grip turned bruising and iron tight as he latched it shut.  

It hugged tightly on her, a nearly imperceptible hum against her skin. Only a tiny seam remained on the bottom, with no button or latch or catch to open it.

“What is it?” she demanded, swallowing down a flutter of panic.

Rook rolled his eyes. “Relax, princess. It’s just a tracker.”

“A tracker?”

“Yeah. Consider it your freedom. Now you can go anywhere you want and no one has to worry about you slipping out to somewhere you shouldn’t be.”

She gave him an appraising look. “Are you going to come fetch me if I go somewhere I shouldn’t?”

“No. I’m just going to push a button and an electric current will take you out until someone finds you.”

He gazed back, utterly impassive, and Val couldn’t tell if he was trying to scare her or not. She refused to be cowed though.

“How strong of a current are we talking about?” she asked

A smirk spread slowly across his face. “Why don’t you get near an airport and find out? If it doesn’t kill you, then you’ll have your answer.”

Val jut her chin up, meeting his smirk with a glare. “Do you get a kick out of trying to make me afraid? Does it make you feel tough?”

He snorted and stepped closer to her. She stood stock still as he linked their arms together.

“You’re in enemy territory, Val,” he murmured, ducking his head down close to her ear, like he was sharing a secret.  “I’m just trying to keep you on your toes.”

“How thoughtful of you.”

The corner of his mouth lifted up. “My king wants you down for lunch in his office. I’ll show you the way.”

The king’s office looked much the same as it did when he was Eugene the Prime Minister. Papers scattered in random piles, post it notes scribbled with cryptic notes only he understood. Reminders taped on walls, the desk, the door.

A table was cleared off, the papers clearly dumped on the desk. A spread of soup and sandwiches sat on it, the king sitting in one of the chairs, waiting. Val was hit with a pang of nostalgia, because this set up looked exactly like the ones they had during campaign season. She didn’t know if he did it deliberately or if this was just how he ran his life.

“Afternoon, Val,” he said with a smile. “I see you have your tracker now.”

“And potential execution device,” she added dryly.

He shrugged. “Only a stupid person would need to worry about the electric shock and you are not stupid.”

“That makes me feel so much better.”

He smiled again, ignoring her sarcasm. “Have a seat.”

She reluctantly joined him and helped herself to a sandwich, knowing this whole charade was just to watch her eat. Rook did not join them, preferring to lean against the wall next to the king. It felt a little unnerving to eat under both of their stares but she knew there’d be hell to pay if she didn’t.

And she had to admit, the food was painfully delicious.  

“You now control the lock on your door,” the king said (Aris? It still didn’t feel right but neither did Eugene). “You may stay or leave your room as you please. All unlocked areas of the castle are open to you, as well as the grounds. If you wish to head into the city, Rook will escort you.”

Rook’s mouth fell open in outrage. “You cannot be serious! I babysit her enough as it is and you want me to take her out for ice cream and shopping? Who is protecting you while I run bullshit errands with her?”

“Hey! Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I have a shopping addiction,” she snapped.

“Like you wouldn’t jump at the chance to blow all the king’s treasury just to fuck us over.”

“What the hell am I going to be buying to drain it — a super yacht?”

“Children, please.” The king — Aris — held up a hand. “It’s not an ideal situation for any of us, but the two of you will have to give each other a little faith.”

Val and Rook let out twin snorts of derision and then shot each other matching glares.

“As I was saying,” Aris said with a warning look, “you have been given a probationary amount of freedom, Val.”

“Probationary?” So this was temporary?

“Yes. Your privileges will change depending on your actions. If you stay obedient, prove yourself, then you freedoms will grow. If you try to circumvent your restrictions, you will lose your freedoms and live in a cell much less cozy than the rooms I’ve given you.”

Obedient. Like a toddler. Like a dog. 

Not for the first time did helpless rage well up in her throat like acid. So many retorts and screams crowded her mouth that it rendered her speechless, unable to choose which to say first and terrified to say any of them.

Eug— Aris — looked at her in such smug satisfaction, as if proud of himself for bestowing a phenomenal gift. If Rook wasn’t in the room, Val could have hit him. Her fingers curled in on themselves to fight the temptation regardless.

“Do you have any questions?” Aris tilted his head slightly, studying her.

She used to love having his full attention on her — something made rare and precious because of his busy schedule and bouts of scatterbrained day dreaming. Right now it made her skin crawl, adding fuel to the feeling of constantly being under surveillance, never able to relax.

“Can I go now?” she asked tightly.

His gaze ducked down to her half-eaten lunch. “You haven’t finished your food.”

The rage leaped up, like a kerosene drenched campfire. She felt reckless and wild with it and without a second thought, flipped her plate off the table to watch it shatter to the floor, food spraying over the lush carpet.

“I’m done,” she said. “Now?”

She had no idea what her face looked like at that moment, but whatever Aris saw on it made him sit back in his seat.

“Yes,” he said slowly, warily. “Of course.”

Val stood so far that her chair fell backwards. “Thank you,” she bit out, dripping venom, before striding out the door.

She had no idea where she was headed, and she didn’t care. Val picked a direction and walked as fast as she could towards it. If it led her to a so-called restricted section of the palace, then maybe that would put her out of her misery.

The padded footsteps sound too close and too late to react before a hand grabbed her shoulder. Val whirled around, fist striking out in pure instinct at the warm body behind her. In less than a second, that body gripped her wrist and shoved her against the wall of the hallway.

Rook.

Of course.

“Someone is very cranky today,” he said, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a smirk.

“Let me go,” she snarled, pushing ineffectively against him.

Rook complied, releasing the bruising grip on her wrist and taking a wide step back, hands up in mock surrender.

“Not many people can scare the king, but I think you managed it just then,” he said.

“What the hell do you want? You have a tracker now. You don’t need to stalk me anymore.”

“We never finished our tour. I wouldn’t want you wandering somewhere you shouldn’t and getting electrocuted on your first day.”

“I’ll figure it out on my own, thanks.”

Rook gave her that same kind of stare Aris did — an assessment. Complete with head tilt. They must spend a lot of time together.

“You’re very angry for someone who was just given a significant amount of freedom that they quite frankly don’t deserve,” he said slowly.

She gave him a poisonous look. “I am not talking about this with you.”

And now that smirk again. “Thank god. I’m not paid to be a feelings person. But I think I know what you need.”

“A long walk off a tall cliff?”

He snorted. “Tempting. But no. Follow me and find out.”

It was probably a stupid decision to follow the most untrustworthy person she’d ever met, but having more opportunities to hate Rook offered her a welcome distraction. So, against all sanity, Val followed him down to an elevator and watched him push the basement button.

“Is that where you keep the torture chambers?” she asked, half joking, half . . .not joking.

“Sometimes it feels that way,” he muttered back.

The elevator dinged and opened to gleaming wooden floors and bright lights. It looked like the reception of a swanky business more than a typical basement. Down a short hallway sat an interior room lined with windows and inside sat various mats, weights, and other equipment.

“You brought me to the gym?” she asked dubiously.

“Yep.”

He made a bee line to a tall metal cabinet and pulled out boxing gloves. “Catch.”

Too fast for her to react, they hit Val square in the face and fell to the floor. She sent him another glare as he snickered before bending down to pick them up.

“You want me to hit something?”

Which actually sounded great, come to think of it.

“I want you to hit me.”

Oh even fucking better.

It felt too good to be true. But Val watched as he pulled out two wide padded circles and fitted them over his palms before he stepped onto one of the mats.

“You gonna put them on or are you chickening out?”

She yanked them onto her hands, their weight surprisingly heavy and then followed him onto the mat.

Rook held up his hands in the mock surrender pose.

“Hit these as hard as you can.”

“You’re serious?” She eyed him dubiously. “What if I hit you in the face?”

“You won’t.”

“You sure? It seems real tempting.”

He grinned. “The day you land a hit on me, I’ll smuggle you back home myself.”

As much as she wanted to deck his face, Val knew a trap when she heard one. Instead, she followed his instructions, landing a blow square against the right hand pad.

He didn’t even budge.

“Come on, Val, I know that’s not all you got. You were so full of rage earlier. Don’t tell me it left already.”

Oh, it didn’t. But she felt nervous putting her full effort in. Either it would hurt him and he’d make her pay or it would be pathetic and he’d mock her.

“You can’t laugh,” she said.

“Oh, I’m going to laugh. Now fucking hit me already.”

She took a deep breath and then slammed her fist against the pad with all her might. He never lost his footing, but she was pleased to see his body sway a fraction.

“Much better. I knew you had it in you. Do it again.”

“What’s the point of this?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Stress relief. I love hitting things when I’m mad. And if you’re hitting me then you’re not hitting my king. So come on, Val. Give me everything you’ve got.”

He asked and she delivered. Val channeled all the injustice, the fear, the grief that the last week had brought her into her fists, driving them over and over into Rook’s padded hands. She didn’t stop, not when her arms started to shake, not when sweat soaked her back, not when a lancing pain hit her shoulder with each impact. It was mindless violence with no victim and it blocked out everything else.

“Ok, okay, Val. That’s enough.”

His voice echoed distantly and she dismissed it instantly. He took a step back and she chased him. It wasn’t until he wrapped his arms around her from behind, trapping her arms against her sides.

“That’s enough Val,” he said in her ear.

She was breathing like a winded rhinoceros, her chest burning with it. But with each slowed breath, exhaustion threaded itself through her limbs and tugged. Eventually she slumped against his chest, happy to let him take all the weight of her. Even then he did not budge.

She was too tired to be angry now.

“Your form is absolute dog shit,” he said, his grip cautiously loosening. “But you have some potential. I could train you, if you wanted.”

“Train me?” With supreme effort, she pulled away from and turned to face him. “Train me in what?”

“Boxing. Mixed martial arts. Basic self defense. You can have your pick.”

“You want to teach me how to fight?” She crossed her arms. “Is this some kind of trap? What’s the catch?”

He raised an eyebrow. “There’s no catch. It would get you in shape, get your mind off things. Give you some sense of control.”

“And then I could use it against you.”

He had the gall to laugh at that, head thrown back. “Not in a million fucking years.”

“You think I could never be a threat to you?” Now she felt insulted. “Is it because I’m a woman?”

Rook rolled his eyes. “The scariest people I’ve ever met have been women. But a few weeks or months of the basics is never going to match years of intensive training. If you ever manage to hit me, it’s because I let you for your pride.”

He held out his hands for her gloves and she pulled them off with surprising reluctance.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll show you the way back to your room. You need a shower.”

“Thanks,” she said dryly.

But a tiny flicker of gratitude wormed its way through her chest as she followed him back to the elevator. The exercise had cleared her head. She felt soothed, the tightness in her chest dissipated. Rook undoubtedly had ulterior motives for helping her, but he still could have let her drown in her own rage until she did something stupid that he’d gleefully punish her for.

Instead he gave her a much needed outlet.

She didn’t know how to feel about that.

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[bellysoupset]

I would love to see Leo and Jonah sick at the same time ^^

maybe one of them has food posioning and the other has been hiding some sort of stomach bug for a while that happens to show it’s face then?

if not that’s fine but would really like to see this!

-🪼

(First time submitting an ask :D)

This was sent before you switched to the 🧋anon tag.

Also requested by @vdoggg!

Food Poisoning - Part 3.

A continuation of Leo's birthday fic. Read part 1 here. Part 2 here.

--------------------

Leo was lying on the bed, curled up and trying to make sense if he was about to puke again, when he heard the front door opening. JD lifted up her head from where she had been happily kneading his thigh and he breathed out.

“It’s just Jon,” Leo grumbled, not moving a muscle. Jonah hadn’t texted him, but Leo had enough sense to figure out who had eaten the missing cupcakes and why he was back earlier than usual. 

As if to confirm his point, he heard hurried steps and then the noise of liquid hitting liquid and Jonah’s signature loud burp down the hall, as he probably burst into the guest bathroom. Leo sighed, forcing himself to sit up and waiting a second as the room spun around him. 

He had originally thought it was a simple overeating bellyache, even when he puked again as they arrived home, chalking that up to the vestiges of nausea and carsickness. Halfway through the night though, while Jonah was peacefully asleep, Leo was wrecked by the cramps in his lower belly and had given up on that notion as the runs hit him.

Leo felt mildly guilty he hadn’t been awake enough that morning to warn Jonah this was definitely food poisoning, then maybe his fiancee wouldn’t have eaten the cupcakes.

Grabbing on the walls to keep himself upright, Leo made his slow track down the hall and sighed as he found exactly what he had predicted. Jonah curled up in front of the toilet, hugging the bowl with arms, his shoulders hitching with a retch.

“Shit,” Leo sighed, slumping against the door and taking a deep breath to steady himself, “I’m sorry, Jon.”

A burp answered him, followed by more liquid splashing and then a pitiful whimper. Leo slowly entered the bathroom, which was much too small for the two men, and sat down on the cold ground, planting a hand on his fiance’s back. 

He didn’t have the energy to rub, but Jonah didn’t seem to mind. After a couple minutes the other man finished coughing and raised a shaky hand to flush the toilet, so Leo grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and passed it to him. He heard Jon blow his nose, then flush again and finally he turned to look at Leo. 

Leo cringed, his boyfriend looked damn near gray and his lips were a terrible pale shade. He had sweat beading all over his face, gluing his curls down to his temples, “Jon, are you-”

“Threw up- threw up in front of a patient,” Jonah informed him, in a little strangled voice. He closed his eyes, as if wincing at the memory, “I really don’t feel good.”

“I know,” Leo said truthfully, scooting closer. He couldn’t emphasize enough how much he understood Jon’s plight, given that just walking the short distance between their bedroom and the guest bathroom had caused his nausea to increase all over again, “I’m really sorry, Jon.”

“Not your fault,” Jonah groaned, turning to the toilet once more and spitting in it, planting a hand on his chest and massaging a burp up, “fuck…”

Leo tipped his head back against the cold tiles of the bathroom, trying to ignore the angry gurgling of his belly and how he felt like acid was crawling up his throat. He took a measured breath, gulping down, then startled as he felt a hand touching him.

Jonah let out a small snort at his jerkiness and Leo frowned, taking a second to realize Jonah was checking his vitals. He was being gentle, but the slight pressure on his Adam's apple was not helping Leo gulp down the nausea, so he pulled back.

“What are you doing…?”

“You’re really, really pale,” Jon frowned at him, “when did you last drink water?”

“You’re the one throwing up,” Leo pointed out with a pout, bringing his knees up to his chest, “are you done?”

Jonah shrugged, not reassuring him in the least, “I’m fine,” he said, using the toilet to pull himself up and then promptly leaning over the sink with a deafening retch. Leo scoffed, dizzily rubbing Jon’s thigh since he didn’t feel like he could get up now that he had sat down.

‘You’re fine, uh?”

A wet burp, followed by Jonah letting out a groan and wrapping an arm around his stomach… Then whimpering, “oh no,” and bent on the middle, clutching his belly. Leo raised his eyebrows.

“Jon…?”

“You need- I need you to get out,” Jonah groaned through clenched teeth, “now.”

“What… Why?” Leo tried to pull himself up, only to find that he really couldn’t and Jonah whimpered again.

“Fuck, Leo, I’m gonna shit my pants, get out-”

“I’m trying!” The blonde exclaimed, darting out a hand and grabbing the bathroom sink, in order to pull himself up, since his fiancee was of no help at all. On the contrary, Jonah seemed to have tuned him out, too preoccupied with the sour state of his intestines. 

“Leo…”

“I’m-I’m go-” Leo didn’t finish his sentence, because being upright so quickly caused his head to swim, so instead of leaving the bathroom, he clutched the granite of the sink for dear life, breathing through his mouth, ears ringing and black spots dancing in front of his eyes. The queasiness that had been on the back burner until then, jumped up tenfold and Leo couldn’t do anything as he leaned forward and brought up a gush of pale yellow vomit in the basin.

Vaguely he heard Jonah groan and then the noise of his boyfriend falling sit on the toilet, sickness overriding any modesty.

Leo coughed, gasping for air and still white knuckling the sink. It felt like his head was floating. He gagged once more as he heard the noise of Jonah’s intestines emptying out and his fiancee let out a humiliated whine.

“I’m sorry, this is so gross, I-” Jonah all but whimpered, a sound so alien in his voice that it made Leo snap slightly back in reality. 

He shook his head, opening the tap and washing away the vomit, before washing his mouth and forcing up a small burp. Leo hung over the sink, unsure if his belly was done with him. 

“Jon?” he called after a minute, splashing some water on his face to try to get rid of the woozy sensation that he was about to pass out. 

A cough answered him and Leo turned to look at his boyfriend, then groaned in sympathy. Jonah had grabbed the bin and planted it on his lap, as his own stomach joined his body’s attempt at purging. 

“Aww angel,” Leo stumbled slightly forward, planting a hand on Jonah’s shoulder and squeezing his nape, “get it up, worst is almost over…”

Jonah’s whole body lurched with a big belch, that brought up another large wave of vomit inside their bathroom bin. Leo brought up a fist to his mouth and muffled a gag, turning his face away. He wasn’t one to get sympathy sick, but this was a gruesome sight when his stomach was already so upset.

He looked up at the ceiling, waiting until Jonah stopped heaving, then dared to glance down as the other man rasped out, “I’m done… I think I’m done…”

“Let me take this,” Leo took a forceful breath and retrieved the bin from Jonah’s hand, planting it on top of the sink and tying the trashbag, “do you need help…?”

“I’d rather die,” Jonah scoffed, wrapping both arms around his stomach and rocking softly, “bloody hell, Leo, it was just… Just two cupcakes, how the hell-”

“I don’t know,” Leo rubbed his face, frustrated, then grabbed the trashbag and fortified himself for the journey of getting out of the bathroom so Jon could get up and shower, “I’m going… I’m gonna give you some privacy. But I’m gonna leave the door open, okay?”

Not that he really could do anything in case Jonah slipped and fell in the shower, considering Leo was barely holding his own weight up. Jon was graceful enough not to mention it, though Leo wasn’t sure his boyfriend was even listening. Instead he was taking little rapid breaths, a sickly little burp sneaking up on him.

“Babe?”

“Bin-” Jonah’s voice was thick with nausea, “Leo- Gimme-”

Leo quickly pulled the tied trashbag out of the bin and passed the empty bucket back to Jonah, thankful that it wasn’t a hollowed out metal bucket like others they had in the house. Jon leaned over it immediately, barely retching before liquid sprayed from his mouth, then his back arched with a more violent heave. 

“Jesus,” Leo whispered, starting to panic. This was quite violent and he hated that he couldn’t help as much as he wanted to. His legs were shaking and his own tummy was squeezing and cramping, intestines building a riot inside of him. Leo ignored the horrible sensation of his body revolting against him, in order to plant a shaky hand on Jonah’s shoulder and keep him from falling off the toilet. 

After what felt like an eternity, Jonah planted the bin on the ground and his elbows on his knees, groaning, “fuck…” 

Leo squeezed his shoulder, “I’m- Uhm- Are you-you done…?” 

Jon’s head snapped up and he frowned at Leo’s sluggish sentences. Even exhausted and wrung dry, he hadn’t been losing liquids for as long as the other man had and was more alert. 

“Leo, sit down,” he bossed and Leo shook his head, sweat breaking on his forehead and gluing his shirt down. 

“Can’t- Don’t feel well…” He forced the words out, “are you okay…?”

“I’m fine,” Jonah stressed, “please, can you just sit down for a minute? I just need to shower-”

Leo nodded, then stumbled back and sat on the threshold between the bathroom and the hallway, whole body going down as if he was a broken doll. Jonah felt the start of panic prickling him, running his options through his mind. 

Despite wanting to stay under the hot water for the rest of the day, Jon forced himself to keep the shower to only a minute, wrapping a towel around his hip and ignoring the way his belly was grumbling and whining all over again. He couldn’t even understand how he wasn’t empty yet. 

Leo was in the exact same spot, he hadn't moved a muscle. Jonah crouched down, touching his fiance’s pale, slack face and hating the way he could feel Leo’s rapid heart beat. 

“You’ve been puking since yesterday, this isn’t good,” Jon sighed, patting Leo’s cheeks, “baby, open your eyes.”

“Gon’besick,” Leo groaned, instead of obeying and Jonah jerked back just in time to avoid getting his arm coated in vomit, as Leo’s head hung and bright yellow bile splashed on his shirt. 

Jonah groaned, sympathy sickness making his stomach squeeze and he didn’t have it in him to fight it, he turned his head and gagged. It took forever for his stomach to settle and he could feel Leo was still dry heaving, even without looking. 

“We need help,” Jonah said, forcing himself to look at the mess and deciding there was no way he could handle this alone, when his body was hellbent on getting ready of any fluid he had ever consumed. 

Leo let out a little whimper as an answer and Jonah made up his mind.

—------------

“Christ,” Luke’s voice was much too loud in their quiet apartment and Jon jerked from the small nap he was taking in the middle of the hallway. He had managed to strip Leo out of his ruined shirt and changed into boxers himself instead of only a towel, but that was it. Moving Leo had been out of the question. 

“Leo first,” Jonah opened his eyes, his head was pounding from all the heaving and coughing, “I think he needs a hospital…” 

Lucas didn’t argue, crouching down in front of them and touching Leo’s cheeks, patting them softly, “Leo. Leo, hey-” he shook him a little harder, until the blonde let out a groan and opened his eyes. His face immediately twisted into a frown, the cramps hitting him now that he was awake.

“Luke…?” Leo groaned, curling up as much as he could, but Lucas was having none of it. He forced the other man to open up and threw an arm around his neck. 

“C’mon,” Luke’s voice came out strained as he managed to pull Leo up on his feet, “couch with you. You need to drink something.”

“Gonna… Gonna go right through-” Leo groaned, his head lolling and he pressed his nose to Luke’s neck, “won’tssstay down- Where’s Jon?”

“He’s fine,” Lucas managed to plant Leo on the couch, then grabbed some cushions and planted them under Leo’s legs, “I brought stuff.”

“What did you bring…?” Jonah tried to get up from the hallway, only to find that he was much weaker than he thought. His face burned with embarrassment as he too had to be hugged by Luke and pulled up. 

“Everything the drugstore would sell me without a prescription,” Luke huffed, planting Jonah in the opposite couch to Leo’s and then heading to the door in order to retrieve his grocery bag. He put it down on the coffee table, then removed a gatorade bottle, and five different medicine bottles. 

“Here,” Luke handed Jonah two different pills and a bottle of gatorade, “try holding these down.”

“Where’s JD?” Leo whispered from the other couch. He had curled up as much as he could and Jonah winced at the sight of him, throwing Lucas a panicked glance. He didn’t like at all the shade of white Leo had reached.

“What?” Luke asked, walking closer. For Leo he opened the gatorade bottle and stuck a straw inside of it.

The blonde made a face as the straw was pressed to his lips, trying to move away, “she must be starving…”

“I’ll look for JD in a minute,” Lucas ushered him closer, “just one sip, Leo. If you can’t then we’re gonna go to the hospital.”

The vague threat worked, because Leo finally took a gulp. Jonah watched him anxiously, already so familiar with the way his boyfriend worked that he fully expected to see the drink come up within seconds. When that didn’t happen, he allowed himself to fully collapse against the couch’s cushions. 

“How long has this been going on?” Lucas’ voice was distant, followed by a meow and then his footsteps. JD meowing louder. Jonah turned his head, fighting valiantly the urge to go to sleep and scoffed as he saw Luke clutching JD in his hands. 

“Don’t squeeze her like that,” he glared at the other man, while from the opposite couch Leo let out a pained groan. 

“Luke-” It was a whimper, and then Lucas dropped JD and lurched just in time to catch the mouthful of gatorade in the crumpled groceries paperbag. Jonah squeezed his eyes to avoid looking at the mess, feeling even worse that he was so useless. 

His own stomach churned uneasily and Jonah rolled on his side, focusing on breathing in and out and not on how awful he felt that he couldn’t be of any comfort or help as Leo continued to dry heave. 

“Fuck,” Lucas said and Jonah dared to open his eyes. Leo had fallen against their friend, white as a corpse, and not even fighting it as Luke wiped his lips with his thumb, puke be damned. 

“Hospital,” Jonah bossed, even dizzy as he was, “take him.”

“Yeah,” Luke nodded, carefully pushing Leo against the couch’s back, “Bella is coming over, she just stopped to buy us food. We’ll wait for her.” 

“Nooo-” Jonah shook his head, then his stomach clenched violently and he gagged, but all that fell on the floor was a clear line of spit, “don’t-”

“I’m not leaving you alone,” Lucas said harshly, crossing the room and forcing Jonah to sit up correctly, then grabbing a bucket and pushing it on his lap, “and Leo’s not gonna die in the fifteen minutes it’ll take her to get here. Chill.”

“Can’t…” Jonah mumbled miserably, too tired to hide how raw he felt, when Leo was this sick. He felt like crying and probably would have, if he wasn’t so dehydrated, “can’t chill.”

Luke’s frown softened up, replaced by all concern and sympathy and he crouched down in front of Jonah, grabbing the gatorade bottle once more, ‘yeah, I know, man. But I’m looking out for both of you. You trust me?”

Jon hesitated, then nodded, refusing to meet Luke’s eyes and the other man pushed the cold bottle in his hand, “take another sip. Bell is nearly here, I’m going to pack Leo a bag.”

True to what Luke had said, not more than ten minutes later, Bella entered the apartment. She was carrying another set of groceries and in true pragmatic fashion didn’t spare them even a look, heading straight to the kitchen to empty their fridge of the possibly tainted food and repack it. 

“Okay,” Luke walked back to Leo, with a backpack around his shoulder, “let’s go, Leo.”

“Jonah…” Leo mumbled dizzily, burying his face in Luke’s chest, “Jon’s sick too-”

“I know, but he’s in better shape than you,” Luke grunted, pulling Leo up and stumbling a little, “Bell will stay here to keep him company.” 

“JD-”

“She’s fine,” Bella said softly, rushing ahead to open the door for them and picking up the cat when she tried to sneak past her legs. The woman held up the kitten so Leo could see it and he blinked blearily, clearly feeling too awful to string things together. 

“She’s hungry…”

“I’ll feed her,” Bella vowed and Luke huffed, tightening up his hold on Leo as the blonde started to slip down. 

“Everything is fine here, we’re gonna be back in no time,” Luke promised, dragging him away. Finally they were alone, Jonah and Bella, and Jon let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He curled up even more on the couch and almost smiled when JD jumped from Bell’s arms to come pester him.

“That’s some food poisoning,” Bell wrinkled her nose, walking closer, “how you holding up, Jon?”

“Not well,” Jonah leaned his head against the couch’s arm. He didn’t say it out loud, but he felt an immense relief at knowing Leo was on his way to getting fluids. He didn’t think he needed to say anything to Bell, she always seemed to just know.

“Did you throw up the meds?”

“Nope,” he planted a hand on his unsettled, bloated stomach, “but I might.” 

“Well, try not to,” Bella rolled her eyes, then dangled her fingers for JD, “pspspsps, let’s have dinner, poor thing. You must be starving.”

Jonah stayed quiet as he heard Bella move around in the kitchen, serving JD her food and sorting through the mess. He continued to sip on his gatorade, only to find that had been a mistake when a sharp burp brought up a splash of acidic liquid to his throat. 

“Fuck me,” Jon groaned, curling up and trying to massage the burps out of his belly before he ended up wasting all the hard work to keep down his meds. 

“Don’t do that,” Bella circled the coffee table, holding a tall mug filled with coffee for herself. She unceremoniously pushed his leg to the side so they could share the couch and leaned in, slapping Jonah’s hand away from his belly, “let me.”

“Bella…” Jonah’s face burned with embarrassment, which got even worse when she pressed her fingers against his sloshy, bloated belly and it immediately caused a sick burp to erupt.

Bell rolled her eyes, smirking at him, “relax, I promise I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

Jon scoffed, cupping his mouth and belching again, his throat aching with the force behind it, “please.”

“Maybe just Leo,” Bella grinned, sliding her hand over the curve of his sick belly and chuckling when Jonah let out a groan at her threat. 

[dumbbitch88]

Patience (Tim Wright x Fem! Reader)

NSFW One-shot

Author's note: I have never posted any of my content before so let's pray I keep up and actually finish more of my works

Content/Warnings: Light swearing, unprotected sex, creampie, cock warming, dubcon, no build up, Tim my beloved - Minors DNI!

It felt like it'd been hours, sitting in his lap with the head of his cock pressing against her cervix. Her head was resting on his shoulder and her arms were wrapped around him, resting on the back of the hardwood chair. This had to be torture, right? Forced to sit there for god knows how long as the man underneath her did paperwork, humming to himself every so often. Carefully, she started rocking her hips, letting out a small whimper at the friction. A rough hand grabbed her hip, stilling her movements. "Doll face~" The man's voice was dark and sweet, his eyes glued to the paper on the desk in front of him. "I told you to be patient." He reminded her, voice lowering oh so slightly at her final warning. She let out a whine, pressing her face into the shoulder of his red flannel button up. "Tim..." She begged, sounding pathetic and needy.

The hand on her hip squeezed, calloused fingers digging into her skin. "A few more minutes." He assured her in a softer tone. A few more minutes? Yeah, she could wait a few more minutes. She could be good. When she didn't move anymore, Tim took his hand away from her hip and went back to his paperwork. "Such a good girl, Y/n." Tim cooed as he wrote, earning a whimper from the girl on top of him. Y/n pressed her face into his shoulder again, letting out a shaky breath. Just a few more minutes, she reminded herself as she forced herself to sit still. She tried focusing on anything else, the sound of pen on paper, Tim's arms around her. It was so hard, especially with how full she felt. Her walls squeezed around his length and she could feel Tim's arm twitch in response.

After what felt like another eternity, she heard his pen rest against the desk and her heart rate sped up at the feeling of his hands grabbing her hips. Finally. Oh finally, she'd get what she wanted. Tim rocked his hips forward, testing the waters and he could feel his cock get squeezed again. A puddle of slick had formed in his lap, dripping from her cunt, down his length and he couldn't help but smirk. "Shit... you're so wet." He commented, rocking his hips upward to grind into her. Y/n's head fell back and she let out a needy moan. A hand moved from her hips and her hair was grabbed, forcing her into a rough kiss as Tim's hands moved to lift her up, starting a slow pace of rocking in and out of her. The friction felt so good, so damn good. She let out a other moan as Tim slipped his tongue into her mouth.

"Shit- Tim..." Y/n gasped out, feeling her eyes tear up as she looked down at the broad man underneath her. There was an amused smirk spread across his face. It quickly disappeared as he let out a grunt at the feeling of his cock being squeezed. "You're so good for me, doll." He groans, looking up Y/n's pleasure filled expression. "Y'know what good girls get?" He asks her, leaning forward to fuck into her deeper, making her bite down on her bottom lip as she nodded quickly in response. "Good" He says simply, watching as Y/n wraps her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer to him. Her chest presses against his as she kisses him frantically, muffling herself as her body shook, cunt squeezing Tim's cock as she reached her peak.

Tim groaned, returning the kiss as he continued through her high, using her pussy as he felt his own climax nearing. Opening his eyes, he watched as a few tears rolled down Y/n's cheeks as she whimpered against his lips. He squeezed her hips, a wordless warning to the woman who dug her nails into the back of his shirt in response. With a grunt, he broke the kiss, feeling his cum fill Y/n's cunt. The woman practically screamed at the feeling before leaning forward and relaxing against Tim again. His arms were wrapped loosely around her waist now as they caught their breath. "Is that what you wanted?" "Yes..." Y/n's arms hung limply around his neck as she shuddered, breathing heavily.

After a moment of silence, Tim hummed, moving a hand to lift Y/n's head just enough that he could kiss her forehead. "Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" He asked, earning a small nod in response.

[imagines--galore]

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Eighteen

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen,

A/N: Prepare yourselves people. Note - Italics is Flashback.

It was late.

But for some reason, she couldn't sleep.

Sighing to herself as her blue eyes flitted from one waterbender form to the other, Orora could feel her hand start to fall asleep where she was resting it under her chin. Setting the scroll she had been studying to the side, the young waterbender glanced at the night sky through the window. She should probably be sleeping, considering they had an early morning tomorrow.

Picking up her bag, she put the scroll inside and was about to put it away but she paused when she spotted a paper at the very bottom of the bag. Taking it she unfolded it, and was surprised to see a drawing of Appa. Orora didn't remember keeping it.

And honestly, with Zuko being sick and then moving to the Upper Ring, she had actually forgotten that Aang, Katara and Sokka were actually in Ba Sing Se.

She gnawed at her bottom lip as set the paper aside. Had Appa found Aang? And if so, had they already left the city? Maybe if they were still here she could go and meet them.

That would be fun, she mused to herself, her mind wandering to those few days she had spent with all of them aboard the Water Tribe boat while sailing towards land.

The candle flickered low as she sat on her futon with her back against the wall. Her blanket pooled around her legs, where one was stretched out in front of her, while the other she had pulled up towards her chest a little, wrapping her arms around it in a loose embrace. As she continued to stare out the window, her mind began to wander to the first days of her journey.

They seemed like such a long time ago, and yet she remembered every single detail.

After all, she made her first friends during those few days.

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With her bag slung over her shoulder, and the gentle breeze from the open waters brushing against her face, Orora could hardly dare to bring herself to believe that she was actually about to do this.

She had initially thought even getting on the boat would be a struggle, since she didn't think Master Pakku, the appointed leader of the small expedition, would even allow her to go.

But luckily, she had asked him while Katara had been standing next to him.

And that girl had been able to convince the grouchy old man and invited Orora onto the ship.

"So, are you excited? I mean this is your first time away from home right?" Katara's happy voice had Orora breaking away from her thoughts and turning to look at her. She smiled and shrugged. "I guess I'm a little nervous. I mean, I've never even seen actual land before." She said with a small laugh.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll love it. I did when I saw land and trees and plants for the first time. More then what you've seen at the Spirit Oasis." Katara reassured her, smiling she glanced over her shoulder where her brother, Aang were helping Appa settle onto the boat.

"Come on!" The girl reached out to take Orora's hand, an act that took the other girl by surprise. "Sokka? Aang? This is Orora, she's going ashore for the first time."

To say Orora was a little stunned would be an understatement. She'd just been introduced to the Avatar.

The Avatar.

Sliding down from where he sat on top of the giant bison's head, Aang grinned and held out his hand. "Hey! Nice to meet you! You must be pretty excited."

Orora blinked.

Like any other person living in their world, she had heard fantastical tales about the Avatar. She had been told about the power they possessed, had read up on all previous Avatars out of curiosity and been fascinated by it all. She had even witnessed that awesome power during the Fire Nation attack.

And yet, here stood the Avatar.

A young boy.

A kid.

Aang frowned as he waved his hand in front of Orora's face. "Erm....hello? You alright there Orora?" He asked. The girl quickly shook her head, her thoughts returning back to her as she nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry. Its nice to meet you Avatar Aang." She said, taking his hand and shaking it. "Just Aang is fine." He replied, still smiling.

A loud grunt from behind had him continuing. "Oh and this is Appa, my flying bison and this is Momo." He added when a small creature landed on his shoulder. Orora smiled, it was cute.

"So you've never gone ashore your whole life?" The other boy, Sokka, asked as he walked to stand next to them. He looked like the typical boy she had seen play soldier in the streets. Orora shrugged. "My father didn't believe in women leaving the house unless they had to." Beside her Katara frowned. "Well that's just wrong. If we had that rule at the South Pole, Sokka here would never get anything done. He relies on me to do everything for him." She added with a grin.

Sokka frowned. "Not everything." He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Katara smiled good-naturedly at her brother before adding. "Why don't you go put your things downstairs, then we can have lunch together."

Orora nodded. "Sounds good to me."

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It was a little strange being invited to sit with people her own age. Growing up she had always been something of an outcast. Girls were taught of marriage, healing, keeping house and babies the whole time they were growing up. And that was what they talked about as well.

But not Orora.

She was more interested in reading books and learning as much about waterbending as she could. And other topics as well, but waterbending was always her favorite subject. That wasn't to say other girls didn't like to learn, they did, just not at the same obsessive level as Orora.

So there she was, sitting in a small circle with Aang, Sokka, and Katara.

With no idea what to say.

"Now that you've satisfied your curiosity about Soulmates, why don't you tell us why you decided to come on this expedition?" Katara, ever the friendly and kindhearted girl asked.

As was her nature, Orora stuck to the truth.

"My father found out I used waterbending to defend myself by fighting off some Fire Nation soldiers." She shrugged. "So he banished me."

An awkward silence followed her words, where the other three stared at her before glancing at one another. Sensing that whatever she had said was wrong, a feeling she was familiar with, Orora made to leave.

"I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I'll just-"

"Wait, where are you going?" Aang suddenly asked, reaching out to grasp her wrist since he was sitting the closest. "You didn't make any of us uncomfortable. Its just, your news surprised us that's all."

Sokka and Katara nodded along, to which Orora blinked. Sensing that maybe she didn't have the best social skills, Katara decided to intervene. "Hey Sokka? Why don't you take out one of your maps and show Orora all the places she can go visit?"

The girl had barely gotten the word maps out of her mouth before her brother was speeding away to take them out of his bag on Appa's saddle. He'd already started to chatter away, going a mile a minute, prompting Orora to glance at Katara and Aang. "Is he always this excited about maps?" She asked. Both of them laughed, with Sokka pouting slightly at her words, before continuing with his tirade of words.

Still it was fun sitting there, bent over the map and having all three of them point out the locations she could visit, should she choose to. In between their recommendations, they began to tell stories of their own adventures while they had been visiting those locations themselves.

Orora was fascinated, and began to ask questions herself. It didn't take long before all four of them fell into a comfortable and easy rhythm where they were chatting and exchanging thoughts as if they had been doing so for a long time.

And they continued to talk, long after the sun had gone down and only stopped when Pakku said it was time for bed.

                                        ————————–

The next few days would come to be the best days Orora had ever had.

Why?

Because she made her first friends.

Orora had worried that all three of them were simply tolerating her for as long as they were there.

How wrong she was.

It actually surprised her that they wanted her around because they liked her. And truthfully, she liked them back.

Sokka with his jokes and penchant to think of himself as more then he was, always managed to make her smile. And when he got to know that she didn't know much about hand-to-hand combat, he took it upon himself to teach her a few moves. For her own safety.

"I could always use my waterbending on them." She had countered.

"Yeah, but what if you don't have water available to you?" He had asked. "Look, I've taught Katara a few moves too, even though she's good at waterbending. Its better to be prepared. Trust me."

It was strange to have someone else be so sincere with her and actually worry about her. While she went through a punching move Sokka was making her perfect, a random thought occurred to her. She paused, standing just a few feet away from Sokka and frowned at him.

"Is this what its like?" She asked.

"Is what like this?" Sokka asked with a confused frown.

"To have a brother? Is this what its like."

He may have known her for only a few days, but Sokka had learned that Orora tended to speak her mind no matter the thought. She didn't worry about offending anyone and that took guts. It kind of reminded him of Katara and her own beliefs.

Though having her ask him if having a brother meant someone looking out for her, he did feel a small amount of pity for the other girl. She'd told them about her entire family, and he couldn't really wrap his head around the fact that her brothers didn't take care of her like he took care of Katara.

Weren't all brothers supposed to take care of their sisters?

Still Sokka smiled. "Yeah, I guess in a way it is, though it also comes with healthy helping of teasing and arguing." He added with a grin.

"It must be nice." She said, her demeanor turning a little sad. "Neither of my two brothers acted like you are. Its strange. But nice." She added, to which Sokka waved an arm. "Their loss. They're missing out on having a cool sister."

Grinning at his compliment, the young girl dropped into the stance he had just taught once more, committing all that he had to teach to memory.

The best part of chatting with Sokka, was when he showed her his weapons and she created exact replicas of them out of ice. He nearly burst into happy tears when she created one for his boomerang and it had actually worked when she'd thrown it in the air.

Though it took off half of a passenger's beard as it went by.

He had looked around in confusion at the sight of the ice boomerang stuck in the post in front of him, before he began to lament the loss of his facial hair.

Sokka and Orora glanced at each other out of the corner of their eyes, identical expressions of nervousness on their faces and sneaked away as if nothing had happened.

Forming a silent pact, neither of them spoke of that moment again.

                                  ��     ————————–

For someone who held immense power, being friends with Aang was a breeze.

Pun not intended.

On the very second day, he had offered to take her up on Appa. And Orora had very nearly screamed out in joy when he did.

"Sorry." She said, once she had calmed down. "But since I saw Appa I've wanted to go for a ride, but I didn't want to offend you by asking."

Aang shook his head. "No worries. Appa loves giving rides to new people. He thinks its the best way to travel, and I agree with him." The boy grinned, patting Appa on the nose as he did.

"Well I guess its a good thing I was saving something for him then." So saying, she quickly reached into her bag and pulled out a hunk of bread. It was a little stale, but Appa didn't seem to mind. With one swipe of his tongue, he'd swallowed the bread and let out a happy groan.

Before licking one very wet tongue all along her body.

Aang had laughed himself hoarse at her expression. Though with a quick waterbending move the saliva had been thrown into the water. Still, that did not deter her from climbing up beside Aang on Appa's head and waving at Katara and Sokka who watched from nearby.

"Appa! Yip yip!"

Her initial reaction was letting out a yelp of surprise and hanging onto Appa's reins for dear life. But that was the only sign of nervousness she showed. Pretty soon she was enjoying the cool wind in her hair and against her face. Not to mention the view from so far up.

"I agree with Appa." She said, after a few minutes of enjoying the ride in silence. "This is the best way to travel." They didn't go far, the boat they were traveling by stayed in view, but it was still an astounding experience.

"Does it always feel this freeing and amazing? Flying whenever you want to?" She sighed wistfully. Aang nodded.

"Yeah, it is. And its even better when I use my staff." Orora had seen it many times and had asked about it some time ago. "I wish I could go with you so I could fly all the time." The waterbender sighed, holding her hand out to catch a cloud as it floated by.

"Well why don't you?"

His words had her frowning at him. "What do you mean?" She asked, to which he shrugged, his arms held out in front of him where he was holding the reins. "What I mean is, you could always come travel with me, Katara and Sokka. You'll fit right in!" He added with a grin.

Orora pursed her lips, forehead creased as she thought over what he had just said.

Travel with the Avatar and his friends? That would truly be an adventure. They were all so nice and they were her friends. People who actually liked her and didn't mind that she was so forward with her words. Really Katara seemed to get a kick out of it whenever she would knock Sokka down a notch from whatever pedestal he put himself on.

And yet..........

She looked away, staring out at the horizon, the clouds floating around them. So far up here, it felt like she was in a whole other world.

Seeing her hesitate, Aang reached out to pat her on the shoulder. "You don't have to decide now. Just think about it. Its just Katara and I were talking." She stayed silent so he continued. "But I know its also important to go out into the world on your own and find yourself, as I'm sure that's what you're trying to do."

Orora raised an eyebrow at him. "How did you figure that?" Aang grinned.

"Through my mystical powers as the Avatar." He said in a low spooky voice, prompting Orora to roll her eyes and smile at him. Aang chuckled. "And also because, I'm pretty observant, and well, I can see that you feel a little lost now that you don't have a purpose in life."

Still surprised at his ability to observe so eloquently, Orora nodded. "Yeah, I mean, I want to see the world. This is going to be the first time I'm out there and just being myself and not hiding behind a mask. I've been doing it for so long that it feels strange walking around and being just myself." Aang smiled at her in an encouraging manner, prompting her to continue. "And you're right, I want to find my place in it as well. As the Avatar, you know your place in the world, and for Katara and Sokka, their place is beside you."

Silence followed her words for a good few minutes, where the both of them just sat there with Appa lazily moving through the air. Finally, with a clearing of her throat. "Maybe, in the future, when I find out more about myself, I can come with you guys?" She asked, feeling a little uncertain and shy.

Though his response told her she didn't have to feel that way at all. "Well there's a spot reserved just for you then. I'll tell Katara and Sokka too, make sure Sokka doesn't try to fill it by buying a new pet or something."

Orora laughed.

"Hey, did you know you could bend clouds because of the water in them?"

"You can really do that?"

"Yeah! Here, I'll teach you."

                                        ————————–

Katara was a force to be reckoned with.

Orora had heard whispers of the girl who had found a place in Master Pakku's class. The Healing Huts had gossiped non-stop about it. And while she had admired the girl from afar, now Orora actually got to practice and exchange knowledge with her.

The other girls at the Healing Hut had either thought her too snobbish or too intimidating for their likeness. In reality, Orora had just been uncertain when it came to approaching them.

Mostly because she didn't know how to make friends. And no matter how hard she tried, there were no texts in her father's library that could help her with that either.

Talking with Katara was easy. She was so eager and ready with a kind word. It was amazing how she had turned out after all that had happened to her. The other girl had told Orora about their mother being taken by the Fire Nation, and while Orora had never had a strong relationship with her mother, she knew it would devastate her if something were to happen to her. And even though Katara carried that sadness with her in her heart, she didn't show it.

And that was incredibly strong of her.

With her own expertise in the art of Healing, she was able to teach Katara new things. It was fun talking to another waterbender and exchanging information. Katara, for her part, taught waterbending moves Orora didn't know. Her scrolls helped, but they could only help so much. In a span of few a days, Orora learned more then she could ever hope to.

She and Katara would go through waterbending forms together in the evening. Sometimes Aang would join them, having still a long way to go till he mastered waterbending. Between the three of them it was fun and Sokka would often get splashed with water more times then they could count.

One night, after finishing a good session where Orora had taught Katara a few waterbending tricks using ice, the girls settled around the fire to chat. "I heard you guys are leaving tomorrow." Orora's words had Katara sighing and nodding.

"Yeah, we have to start flying now that we're closer to land. We need to find Aang an Earthbending teacher." She added as a way to explain further. Orora nodded, eyes staring into the small fireplace that had been created to keep them warm.

"Did you think about Aang's offer?" The younger girl asked, her voice soft and gentle as she tried to gauge the older girl's reaction. It was strange, how Orora was older then her, and yet Katara had more world experience then she did. But then, maybe it wasn't fair to compare their lives.

"Thats all I've been thinking about the past two days." Orora finally responded. "And I......I don't know." Reaching up to where her long braid rested over her shoulder, she began to play with it by running her fingers through it. The fire crackled in front of them, casting shadows all around, and a warmth to settle in them.

It reminded her of the fire she had seen when her supposed soulmate had saved her.

Allowing the silence to continue, Orora sighed before moving to lay down on her back. Already the constellations had begun to change, the further they traveled from the North Pole. Katara glanced at Orora before grinning and laying down beside her as well, arms tucked behind her head. At last, the older girl spoke.

"Katara?"

She hummed in response to show she was listening. Orora licked her lips, eyes tracing the stars above. "Do you ever wander about your place in the world?"

"Huh." Katara frowned, pausing briefly as she thought over her answer. "Well, I don't really wander about it. I mean I've always known."

Turning her head to the side, she glanced at Katara, a little surprised. "You did?"

Her gaze trained to the heavens Katara shrugged. "Yeah. I mean, when my mom died, my place was at the South Pole taking care of my family. And when we found Aang in that iceberg and decided to travel with him, my purpose shifted to making sure he got to the North Pole safely. I mean, the whole world depends on him."

Orora smiled softly, gaze returning to the sky. "In a way, the world depends on you too. Since you're making sure Aang doesn't get himself eaten while riding a sea serpent or something."

Katara laughed softly before she continued. "True. Lately though, I've found that my place in life is to fight for the innocent alongside Aang and Sokka. To try and end this war and make this world safe."

The older girl was silent for a moment. "That's a pretty big commitment to make isn't it?" She said, her voice soft. "Especially considering you're all just kids, and I don't mean that in an offending way."

Katara pursed her lips before nodding. "No, I get what you're saying. And yeah." She moved to sit up, resuming her previous position. "I suppose it is."

The two of them remained motionless for a little while, each lost in her own thoughts, contemplating on what they had just spoken about. Finally, Katara turned her head to smile at Orora who was still on her back.

"But that's my place in the world." She said with a determined gleam in her eyes. "And, I'll be seeing it through with Aang and Sokka beside me."

Sitting up, Orora smiled at the other girl. "That's very brave and noble of you Katara." Fiddling with the end of her braid, the girl pursed her lips. "I wish I had that kind of strength."

Smiling kindly, Katara reached out to wrap an arm around Orora's shoulders. "Once you find your place in the world I'm sure you'll do the same. You're very brave coming out here and thinking of going off on your own Orora. I don't think I would be able to do it."

Orora grinned at the compliment before playfully nudging Katara with her shoulder. "Yeah, but you've already done so many other things. I mean what fourteen year old can say that she's helped earthbenders bust out of prison."

The other girl grinned proudly and nodded. "True, but, my point is, that no matter what you decide Orora, we'll understand."

Sighing Orora nodded smiling at her. "Thanks Katara." She smiled back.

"Anytime."

                                         ————————–

Someone was shaking her.

"Orora?"

And calling out to her.

"Orora, wake up."

Reluctantly, she forced her eyes to open just a little. The room was bathed in early morning sunshine, and she could hear the birds chirping outside. But what really caught her attention, was Zuko crouching beside her, hand on her shoulder and looking at her with a concerned expression.

"Are you alright?" He asked, reaching up to brush her tousled hair from her face. "I came in to wake you, and you were just sitting up like this." Her back was aching from where she had been sitting up the entire night, and her neck had a slight crick in it. Nodding the girl reached up to rub her eyes. "Yeah, I just fell asleep thinking."

"And you couldn't have fallen asleep thinking while lying down?" Giving him a grumpy yet sleepy look, she raised her hand, only to cover his face with it and push him backwards, making him fall back.

"I'm still too sleepy to deal with you Zuko. At least let me wash my face first." She grumbled, already moving to stand up and stretching to get rid of some of the ache in her body. Zuko laughed as he stood. "Yeah well, you better be quick. Uncle wants us to set out within the hour."

She pushed him towards the door. "I'll be out when I'm ready."

Taking advantage of her still semi-awake state, he couldn't help but tease her more. "And that will take you two hours? Or three?"

He grinned at her as he stood at her door. Orora glared at him. "At least I don't spend half an hour on my hair making sure it falls perfectly over my forehead."

With that she slammed the door in his face.

Zuko stood there for a moment, reaching up to the aforementioned hair and running is fingers through it. "I only spend fifteen minutes on that." He called through the door.

                                         ————————–

A carriage was waiting for them outside. Iroh and Zuko were at the foot of the stairs that led up to their apartment above the tea shop, waiting for Orora to come down.

"Whats taking her so long?" The Prince grumbled, tapping his foot impatiently, his back towards the stairs. Iroh, going through a last minute checking of whatever they would need for the tea serving, glanced up and chuckled.

"You should prepare yourself for such tardiness my nephew. A lady always takes her time." Seeing movement at the top of the stairs, he smiled at the sight of his descending Pupil. "But it is always worth the wait."

Hearing her footsteps behind him, Zuko whirled around. "Finally! I knew you woul....." He trailed off, his eyes widening. Behind him, his Uncle laughed to himself before sneaking away. Orora, looking up from where she had been adjusting the folds of her dress, raised an eyebrow at him.

"It takes time to get ready Zuko." She responded, reaching up to fix her signature blue dragon comb in her hair. Since their arrival in Ba Sing Se, Orora had taken to wearing dark greens and gold. And while those dresses had been pretty on her, the lighter green of the dress she wore currently, fashioned after the latest Earth Kingdom fashion, made her an absolute vision.

Or at least to Zuko's eyes.

The soft green seemed to make her skin glow and her eyes seemed to.....Spirits! When had he begun to take notice of things like that and started writing poetry about it?!

It was all Orora's fault, he mused, as she stared up at him with a questioning look in her eyes. She made him see things in a way that even the ugliest of things looked beautiful.

After all, she had claimed his scar as beautiful, despite the fact that it marred half his face.

Or maybe it was just his lovesick brain that was making her appear much prettier to him then she really was?

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, a blush clear across her pale skin, he cleared his throat. Avoiding her gaze, he reached out to grab her hand and pull her out of the tea shop. "You better hope the Earth King doesn't mind people who are late." He said, helping her into the carriage, and climbing in behind her.

She shrugged. "If we're lucky, maybe he woke up late." Iroh laughed as he sat across from the two teens. Given his more robust figure, he had to take up one side of the carriage, while Zuko and Orora sat next to each other on the other side.

The carriage ride was silent, all three of them looking out of their respective windows and it wasn't long before they were standing in front of the palace where they were to meet the King.

"Many times I imagined myself here, at the threshold of the palace. But I always thought I would be here as a conqueror." Iroh continued, as all three of them walked towards the entrance. "Instead, we are the Earth King's personal guests, here to serve him tea." He chuckled. "Destiny is a funny thing."

Zuko glanced at Orora out of the corner of his eyes, only to catch her doing the same to him. The two smiled at one another. "It sure is, Uncle." The Prince stated.

Once inside they were shown to a spacious and beautifully decorated room. Setting the small basket he had brought down, Iroh started to unpack everything. The three of them settled next to one another, with Iroh putting the ingredients and everything else on the table. Orora helped him make it appear like a proper presentation, as they waited for the Earth King.

They waited.

And they waited some more.

And a little more.

The teapot began to steam away, and Orora yawned hugely, her eyes actually tearing up as she did.

"What's taking so long?" Zuko finally spoke up, clearly at the end of his patience.

Iroh shrugged as he poured some hot tea. "Maybe the Earth King overslept." Orora smirked at Zuko. "Well maybe I was right then."

No sooner had the words come out of her mouth when several Dai Li agents entered the room and began to create a circle around them. The moment they entered the entire atmosphere of the room changed. The hair at the nape of her neck stood up on end, an icy feeling trailed down her back as her eyes darted around.

Zuko seemed to be thinking along the same lines as her, as he leaned forward to whisper. "Something's not right."

And then suddenly, Princess Azula of the Fire Nation, and more importantly Zuko's sister and her Master's niece, was standing in front of them.

"It's tea time!" She stated, a gleam in her eyes that had nothing to do with the joy of seeing her family.

Zuko quickly stood. "Azula!" He shifted so he was standing in front of both Uncle and Orora, the latter of whom was staring at the Princess with a look that could freeze even the brightest of fires.

"Have you met the Dai Li?" Azula continued as if she were talking of the weather and not the multiple deadly earthbenders that surrounded them. "They're earthbenders, but they have a killer instinct that's so firebender. I just love it."

Orora stood to stand just behind Zuko, placing a hand on his elbow. A gesture that did not go unnoticed by the ever observant Princess, who narrowed her eyes at them. Picking up the steaming tea, Iroh smiled at his niece. "Did I ever tell you how I got the nickname 'The Dragon of the West'?" He asked, his voice pleasant.

Azula made a face, checking her nails as she spoke in a condescending tone. "I'm not interested in a lengthy anecdote, Uncle."

Iroh smiled. "It's more of a demonstration, really." He brought the cup to his lips, closing his eyes as he took a deep sip. Zuko looked over at him, smiling briefly. The next moment Orora felt him grab the hand on his elbow and pull her against him, and behind Iroh.

And not a moment too soon.

Iroh opened his mouth wide, letting a huge stream of fire. It was so intense that she could actually feel it, despite Zuko shielding her. Taking the distraction as an advantage, Iroh made an escape route through a wall and out into the corridor. Zuko kept a firm grip on her hand, pulling her along. But she quickly pulled away from his grip, pulling out a stream of water from the hidden water satchel around her thigh and sending several icicles flying through the air. Catching and stopping a few rock projectiles shot by the Agents. Up ahead was a dead end, but that didn't stop her Master, who blasted a hole through the wall, and quickly jumped down and land on some bushes.

"Quick! Jump!" He called out to her and Zuko. Orora did not hesitate, creating a frozen slide and skating down to come to a stop next to him.

She glanced back up to where Zuko stood at the edge.

"Come on! You'll be fine!" Iroh called, just as Orora yelled. "Zuko! Jump now!"

But then he said something that made her heart stop in her chest. "No! I'm tired of running! It's time I faced Azula!"

She froze, a coldness settling in the pit of her stomach. "Zuko! No!" The girl screamed, moving as if she were about to go back to him. But Iroh wasn't having it. Reaching out he quickly and rather roughly grasped her wrist and pulled her away.

"No! Master! We have to go back! We have to help him!" She cried, trying her best to break away from him, stumbling as she did. "So you could be captured like him?" Her Master yelled over his shoulder. "We have a better chance of helping him from out here!"

Despite the panic churning in her stomach, and the fact that she felt as if she were choking on her heart, the girl was quick to see sense and stopped struggling, following after him.

                                           ————————–

"That son of a hog-monkey! What in the world was he thinking?! Was he dropped on his head as a baby?! Facing off against all those Agents and his sister! I cannot believe him!"

Once they were at a safe location, all that fear had melted away to be replaced with an anger that burned in her eyes. She was growling under her breath, while also threatening to maim or seriously harm Zuko for being so stupid.

Iroh glanced at Orora as they hid behind an abandoned living quarter. He neglected to state how she had been about to follow after his nephew in the same amount of danger.

Best not to aggravate her then she already was.

Still, he shushed her, motioning for her to lean forward. "We need to secure an Agent for information. Then we shall both go to the Avatar and ask him for his help."

Orora blinked. "Wait, Aang? Can't we do this on our own? I don't want to involve him, Katara and Sokka. What if they get hurt?" Iroh shook his head. "There is strength in numbers, and it would do us well to have that on our side."

Peaking out from behind their hiding place, her Master turned back to her with a smile. "Now, lets see how good you've gotten with your bending." He motioned for her to step forward and take the lead in capturing a Dai Lee agent.

She could hear footsteps as they approached. The moment they sounded near enough, she threw her arm out, catching the Agent around the waist with a water whip and swinging him in the air. The Agent screamed his head off, his loss of composure costing him the stone gloves he wore as they fell from his hands. Twisting her arm, she slammed the man down on the ground, knocking him out.

"Excellent form my dear." Iroh applauded as he appeared at her side with some rope. "Now lets get to find the Avatar."

                                           ————————–

It really didn't take long.

Once the Agent woke, he was quick to give up any information he had. It helped speed things along that Orora threatened him with an ice dagger. She wouldn't seriously hurt him, but enough to make him see she was not in the mood for any false leads.

Iroh knocked and the door slid open to quickly reveal........the girl they had met while traveling the countryside. Orora blinked over Iroh's shoulder, having not expected her to being there.

"I need your help." Iroh stated in a grave tone, to which the girl simply waved at him. Behind her, Orora could see Sokka and Aang in varying degrees of disbelief.

"Aang! Sokka!" She called out, rushing past Iroh to envelope both boys in a brief hug. "Wait! Orora!" Aang's voice came muffled against her shoulder before she pulled back and grinned at them both.

"You cut your hair?" The girl rolled her eyes. "Really Sokka? That's the first thing you notice about me."

Sokka nodded. "Well in my defense its the first thing I observed. And your white hair." He added head tilting in curiosity. Aang, having recovered from his shock, hugged Orora again. "Its so good to see you! I like your new look." He added with a small smile, referring to her white patch of hair. Orora smiled back before Aang's attention returned to Iroh and Toph.

"You guys know each other?" He asked, surprise coating his voice. The blind girl nodded. "I met them in the woods once and knocked him down." Iroh smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. "Then he gave me some tea and some very good advice."

Iroh took a tentative step forward. "May I come in?" The girl nodded and stepped aside to allow him in. Once she'd shut the door, he turned to look at them. "Princess Azula is here in Ba Sing Se." He said, his voice grave and serious.

Aang frowned. "She must have Katara." Orora's eyes widened in horror. "She was captured too?" Sokka frowned at her words.

"Too?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow. Iroh nodded. "She has captured my nephew as well."

A beat of silence, in which Orroa glanced nervously at Aang, ready to step in. If she had to beg them to save Zuko, she would.

"Then we'll work together to fight Azula, and save Katara and Zuko." Aang finally stated, looking at Iroh and then Orora. She closed her eyes briefly, before shooting him a small smile of gratitude.

Sokka, though, had other thoughts. "Whoa there! You lost me at Zuko."

It was Iroh who stepped forward to make a case for his nephew. Placing his hands on Sokka's shoulders he spoke. "I know how you must feel about my nephew. But believe me when I tell you that there is good inside him." He said, almost sounding like he was begging Sokka to believe him.

Sokka pushed Iroh away "Good inside him isn't enough!" He stated with venom in his voice. "Why don't you come back when it's outside him too, okay?"

Aang stepped forward. "Katara's in trouble." He said, trying to reason with his friend. "All of Ba Sing Se is in trouble. Working together is our best chance."

Sokka pursed his lips, looking just as reluctant as he felt. A moment passed, before Orora stepped forward. "Sokka." She said, her voice soft. He turned to look at her. Orora gulped, pursing her lips. "He saved my life at the North Pole. I would be dead if it weren't for him. I owe him."

A beat of silence.

"Please."

Finally, something shifted in his eyes and Sokka nodded silently. Heaving a sigh of relief Orora moved to hug him briefly, to which he patted her on the back a little awkwardly.

"We brought someone along who might help us." Iroh said, already leading the way outside to the nervous looking Dai Li agent. The blind girl quickly eartbended a couple of pillars around the man, forcing him to stand up. Orora reached out, yanking away the cloth that covered his mouth.

The moment it was off, the Agent started to speak. "Azula and Long Feng are plotting a coup! They're going to overthrow the Earth King!" He confessed, eyes wide with fear at the sight of several angry looking people in front of him.

Sokka stepped forward, waving his weapon in the man's face. "My sister! Where are they keeping Katara?"

The Agent eyes the weapon nervously. "In the Crystal Catacombs of Old Ba Sing Se, deep beneath the palace." That was all the information they needed. Glancing at one another they nodded, and leaving the Agent where he was, set off to find the Catacombs. 

                                           ————————–

There was no way to actually find the Catacombs.

Toph, as Orora learned the blind girl was called, was able to feel them underground. "Well, what do you know? There is an ancient city down there. But it's deep." Taking up a stance, she made a tunnel through the ground, leading downwards. Sokka stood to the side, going over what they were all supposed to do.

"We should split up." He finally said, turning to Aang. "Aang, you go with Iroh and Orora to look for Katara and the angry jerk." Turning to Iroh, he placed a hand on his shoulder. "No offense."

Iroh simply shrugged in response. "None taken." He stated in a tone that told Orora that he actually agreed with Sokka.

Continuing where he left off, he went on. "And I'll go with Toph to warn the Earth King of Azula's coup."

Orora stepped forward. "We can meet back at the Jasmine Dragon. Its the new tea shop that just opened up. Ask anyone about it. They'll know."

Sokka nodded. "Good idea. Its best if we have a meeting spot. Good luck!" With that, he patted Toph on the shoulder and led her away. Orora turned to where Iroh and Aang were standing at the entrance of the tunnel.

Inhaling deeply, she gave a nervous smile. "Well, lets get going then."

With every step they made their way deeper and deeper underground. Aang earthbended their way forward, while Iroh lit a small fire in his hand to give them light as it slowly grew darker.

"Congratulations on learning a new element Aang." Orora said, smiling at her friend. He smiled back. "Thanks Orora. I'm still getting the hang of it, but its been coming to me. Toph is a great teacher."

Orora nodded. "She looks it. Her ability to sense things with her feet is amazing." Though she was speaking normally, Orora was actually really worried about both Zuko and Katara. She just hoped neither of them were hurt.

"Have you really been traveling with Iroh and Zuko all this time?" Aang asked, a little curious about his friend's choice of companions.

"Iroh has been my teacher these past few months, and I've learned a great deal from him." She finally responded. "And.......Zuko........he...well......." She pursed her lips, her gaze flickering towards her finger where the thread was wrapped around the tip.

And that small movement was enough for Aang to stop short and stare at her. "No way!" He breathed, grey eyes wide and disbelieving. "Zuko is your soulmate?!" He asked, or rather demanded to know. They had paused where they were. "No wonder you had all those questions about Soulmates back on the boat."

He raised a hand to his forehead as he blew out a small breath. "I can't imagine what you went through when you realized your soulmate was the Prince of the Fire Nation itself."

She let out a dry chuckle. "Tell me about it. Seems fate has a weird sense of humor." Glancing at Iroh who was looking at them both patiently, she extended a hand to lay on Aang's shoulder.

"Look, I promise I'll tell you everything once we get out of here with both Katara and Zuko safe." She promised. Questions burned at the tip of his tongue, but being reminded of Katara had him nodding and moving the next piece of boulder that was in their way.

"Well at least it'll be easy for us to find Zuko. We can just follow the string." Aang said, before glancing at his own little finger. "Then again, it wouldn't have mattered since we would've found Katara the same way."

It took a moment for Orora to realize what he had just said. Grinning, she quickly threw her arms around Aang from behind in a brief yet fierce hug. "I'm so happy for you Aang. You both deserve each other." She added, to which Aang beamed, though the light in his eyes slightly diminished.

"Whats wrong?" She asked, frowning at him. Moving another section of earth out of the way, he sighed. The young Avatar was silent for a good few moments before he turned to Iroh who had remained quiet, wanting to give the both of them the time they needed to catch up and ease their worries however they could. Even if it meant idle chatter.

"So, Toph thinks you give pretty good advice, and great tea!" He added with a smile.

Iroh chuckled. "The key to both is proper aging. What's on your mind?" He asked just as Aang earthbended again before replying.

"Well, I met with this guru who was supposed to help me master the Avatar State and control this great power, but to do it, I had to let go of someone I love. And I just couldn't." All three of them came to a stop.

"Wait! He wanted you to break your bond with Katara?" Orora demanded, sounding disturbed. She turned to look at her Master.

Iroh gave her a small nod of confirmation. "Perfection and power are overrated." He stated. "I think you were very wise to choose happiness and love."

"Especially since both of them can be very hard to come by." Orora added, to which Aang nodded in agreement.

"But what happens if we can't save anyone and beat Azula?" Aang added, sounding frustrated. "Without the Avatar State, what if I'm not powerful enough?"

Iroh hummed in thought as they walked further underground, his fire the only source of light. "I don't know the answer." He responded honestly. "Sometimes, life is like this dark tunnel. You can't always see the light at the end of the tunnel, but if you just keep moving." Aang earthbended the last of the rocks away to reveal the Crystal Catacombs. Iroh's fire went out and the sudden gust of wind and he smiled. "You will come to a better place."

Reaching out to place a comforting hand on Aang's arm, Orora smiled at him. "You have people standing beside you Aang. Ready to fight with you. Avatar State or no, you won't be fighting alone. And that's another kind of power."

Aang smiled in gratitude. "You've changed since I last saw you Orora." He said, to which she shrugged. "We've all changed." Lifting her hand, she observed it closely.

"Come on. Lets find our Soulmates."

                                          ————————–

Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he would be imprisoned alongside the water tribe girl he had hunted alongside the Avatar for so long.

Katara, he remembered Orora saying her name was. After the initial yelling, and his confession about loosing his mother, just as she had lost hers, they had both fallen silent.

He couldn't help but berate himself for trying to face off Azula. But then when it came to his sister, he tended to not think and just do, to try and overtake her. A sigh left him, as his mind conjured the face Orora had made when she had realized he wasn't going to follow them.

She was going to tear him a new one when they were together again. The thought of her yelling at him had a small smile pulling at his lips.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you before." Katara's apologetic voice cut through the silence.

Zuko shrugged, indifferent to her words because really, they hadn't hurt him. He'd been hurt worse by his Father. "It doesn't matter."

There was a brief pause before she continued. "It's just that for so long now, whenever I would imagine the face of the enemy, it was your face."

Raising a hand to his scar, he nodded. "My face? I see."

She shook her head, approaching him. "No, no, that's-that's not what I mean."

Zuko sighed. "It's okay. I used to think this scar marked me. The mark of the banished prince, cursed to chase the Avatar forever." He paused, as once again his mind wandered off to Orora. "But then someone made me realize that it wasn't an ugly thing. Not when there was another reason behind it." He wasn't about to tell Katara the whole story. So he just shrugged and added. "But lately, I've realized I'm free to determine my own destiny, even if I'll never be free of my mark."

Katara pursed her lips. "Maybe you could be free of it."

"What?" There was an element of disbelief in his tone. Katara nodded.

"I have healing abilities." She said, pulling out the vial that contained the water from the Spirit Oasis.

"It's a scar, it can't be healed. Besides, Orora has been traveling with us, and I'm sure she's a much better Healer then you. And if she couldn't heal it, I doubt you could." He hadn't meant to undermine her abilities, but he knew Orora more, knew that she was a strong Healer and would've offered to heal him if she could.

Katara shook her head. "She is a better Healer then I am, but she didn't have this." She held up the small vial. "This is water from the Spirit Oasis at the North Pole. It has special properties, so I've been saving it for something important." She moved to stand in front of Zuko. "I don't know if it would work, but," She trailed off, reaching up hesitantly to place her hand on his scar.

Just as Orora had done so many times.

And yet when he closed his eyes, he only envisioned her, with her gentle words and the ability to knock him in his place.

Suddenly he felt a tug on his finger.

A loud rumbling sound followed by a crash had them both jumping where they stood. As the cloud of dust settled, three figures emerged from the opening.

Aang, Iroh and Orora.

"Aang! Orora!" Katara ran to hug the both of them together, while Iroh ran to embrace Zuko. Aang smiled briefly at the hug, before glaring at Zuko. Zuko glared back at Aang, not liking the way Orora was hugging him.

Granted she was also hugging Katara, but still. "I knew you would come." Katara said to Aang before smiling at Orora. "Its so good to see you again Orora." The girl smiled back.

"And you, Spirits, you had us all worried. Both of you." She added, finally moving to give Zuko a brief hug. Brief because Zuko pushed her off a little, prompting her to look a little hurt at his dismissal. But he barely noticed as he rounded on his Uncle.

"Uncle, I don't understand. What are you doing with the Avatar?" He asked, pointing to Aang. 

Aang glared at the Prince. "Saving you, that's what." He said in a slightly sarcastic tone. Zuko growled, fists clenching as he took a step in Aang's direction, but was stopped by Iroh and Orora both.

"Zuko, it's time we talked." He turned to look at Aang and Katara. "Go help your other friends. We'll catch up with you." The both of them move to walk away, but then stop when they realized Orora wasn't following them.

Noticing their hesitance, the older girl quickly smiled at them. "I'll be right there guys. I hope that spot on your team is still open for me." Nodding, the both of disappeared into a cave.

Spot on the team?

Was Orora leaving?

Was she leaving him?

She was leaving him.

Orora was leaving him.

Dread filled his heart and clouded his mind, as he turned his head to the side.

"Why, Uncle?" He voiced, the hurt evident in his tone. Though from the fact that his Uncle had gone to his enemy, the Avatar for help, or that Orora was probably leaving him to go with the Avatar, he did not know.

"You're not the man you used to be, Zuko." He smiled. "You are stronger and wiser and freer than you have ever been. And now you have come to the crossroads of your destiny. It's time for you to choose. It's time for you to choose good."

Good?

He had done good once before.

And that had earned him a scar.

He had done good before.

And had saved his soulmate, who was now leaving him.

Doing good had never worked in his favor.

He felt Orora step forward. "Zuko, you-AH!" Her words were cut off with a scream as the Crystals around them grew and encapsulated her and Iroh. Zuko assumed a fighting stance, and was greeted with the sight of his sister and two Dai Li agent sliding into the chamber.

"I expected this kind of treachery from Uncle." Azula spoke, her voice soft and sweet like honey. "But Zuko, Prince Zuko, you're a lot of things, but you're not a traitor, are you?" She asked, her voice soft at the end.

"Release them immediately!" He ordered, power behind his words as he glared at his sister. Orora grunted slightly as she tried to free herself, but stopped when Iroh shook his head at her. His message was clear.

Don't draw attention to yourself.

Azula shrugged. "It's not too late for you, Zuko. You can still redeem yourself."

Iroh, not wanting Zuko to be influenced by his sister's words tried to intervene. "The kind of redemption she offers is not for you."

Azula sighed in a way a mother would sigh at a naughty child. "Why don't you let him decide, Uncle?" She said, before turning her sweetened attention back to her brother. "I need you, Zuko. I've plotted every move of this day, this glorious day in Fire Nation history, and the only way we win is together. At the end of this day, you will have your honor back. You will have Father's love. You will have everything you want."

She painted a pretty picture. She painted the exact picture he had wanted for so long. The very picture Orora had said he deserved. He deserved honor and love. He deserved everything.

Didn't he?

Hadn't he suffered enough?

For once Orora was silent. She knew if she spoke, Azula would not hold back in shutting her up. Iroh was right, maybe it was best to stay quiet and let Zuko decide on his own. He was changed now.

He would make the right choice.

Still, that didn't stop Iroh from pleading with his nephew. "Zuko I am begging you. Look into your heart and see what it is that you truly want."

Azula shrugs. "You are free to choose." She gestured to the Dai Li agents who promptly left, probably to get reinforcements. With one backward glance at the three of them, she disappeared into the darkness of the cave where Aang and Katara had gone.

The chamber echoed with a silence that pressed against his chest. His mind whirled, his heart burned. He could feel the eyes of his Uncle and his Soulmate at the back of his head.

"Zuko." Her soft comforting voice floated through the air. "Listen to your heart. What does it tell you?" She said the same words as his Uncle.

Finally, he turned. He looked to his Uncle first, who gave him a gentle smile. Then he looked at Orora.

Amber found blue.

He knew the moment she understood what he was about to do. He could see it in her eyes.

So without a backwards glance, he followed after his sister, leaving his Soulmate to call out to him as he raced away.

As far away from those heartbroken cries as possible.

                                          ————————–

As soon as he had disappeared, Orora began to struggle even more fiercely. "We have to get out. We have to help Aang and Katara. Azula will kill them." She was speaking in an almost frenzied tone as she tried to free her wrists where they were encapsulated in Crystal.

Iroh stood where he was, his eyes closed, a look of utter sorrow and disappointment on his face. "I thought I taught him enough." He lamented.

A wave of emotion rose within her, threatened to overtake her. But she stomped it down with a vicious growl.

No!

Her friends were in danger!

Now was not the time!

And maybe, maybe they were wrong. Maybe Zuko had gone to help Aang and Katara.

Maybe he would change his mind.

Suddenly the earth rumbled and a lone Dai Li agent appeared. He quickly looked around and once he was sure no one else was there, he quickly earthbended the Crystals, freeing them both.

"I am honored to help a High Ranking Officer of the White Lotus." He said, bowing respectfully to Iroh. Iroh nodded, before turning to Orora.

"Go help your friends. I need to take care of some business."

But his Pupil was already gone.

                                          ————————–

She arrived to a horrific scene.

Aang flying through the air, crashing into a building. Azula, Zuko and more then a dozen Dai Li agents, surrounding Katara who was on the ground.

Sheer anger coursed through her veins. Taking a running start, she leaped from her heightened location, using a large wave from a nearby canal to create a slide of ice which she quickly skated down, coming to land in front of Katara.

Her arms raised on either side of her body. The water slide split apart, only to create multiple sharp yet deadly daggers of ice.

Pointing straight at her Soulmate, his sister and the Agent.

"Take one more step and I'll send one right through you." She warned, her eyes dancing with a deadly gleam as she glared at them all.

One of the Agents, thinking she was bluffing, did step forward. Only to find two ice daggers embedded in his forearms. He dropped to the floor screaming in pain as blood oozed from his wounds.

Letting out a grunt, she threw her arms out, allowing each ice dagger to fly forward. While several hit their marks to various points of injuries, many of the Agents brought up shields of rock, while Zuko and Azula simply sent forward a burst of fire, melting them.

"Out of our way peasant." Azula growled, blue fire burning in her hands. She allowed a huge ball of it to fly towards Orora, who dodged, only to be knocked flying back by a Dai Li agent. She slammed into a pillar wall. Her entire body screamed with pain as she slid to the ground. Pushing herself onto her knees, the girl shot into position once more.

It was fight or die, and her entire sense of being had gone into survival mode.

In front of her, Katara had gathered enough strength to stand up. Waving her arms she created an octopus like creature around her, and not a moment too soon.

More Dai Li agents arrived.

While several surrounded Katara, even more surrounded her. Orora growled, bringing up twin whips of water in her hand. The ends of each tip was topped with a spiked boulder of ice. She panted as her eyes darted from one enemy face to another, looking for a chance to land a shot if any of them tried anything.

But then a light shone in the chamber.

Brighter then a hundred candles.

Every eye turned to Aang as he floated in the air. His eyes and tattoos glowing.

Orora gasped. Was this it? Was he about to go into the Avatar State?

So lost were they all in the sheer power of what Aang was about to unleash, that no one noticed Azula sneaking up behind Aang.

Until it was too late.

Lightning flashed, and the tips of Azula's fingers smoked as her aim found it's target.

Aang dropped to the ground.

"No!" A scream tore from her throat. With a single move of her boulder water whips, she was able to knock down the still surprised Dai Li agents. Seeing the path clear, she ran for Aang, creating a wave to catch his body just before he crashed to the ground.

And she wasn't the only one running towards him.

Both her and Katara reached him at the same time. Katara's hair was undone, her clothes torn. And Orora was sure she was in a similar state. Tears streamed down the other girl's face, as she cradled Aang's body and wept loudly.

Knowing exactly what Katara had just lost, Orora moved to stand protectively in front of the younger children. Waving her arms in a circle around her, she managed to call the water towards her and create several circular trunks of ice in front of her. With a flick of her wrist, a sharp round slate of ice lifted from each trunk. One move and they would fly through the air, cutting off limb or head if she desired.

Her eyes were full of pure hatred when she looked at Azula.

"I will kill you." She growled in a threatening manner. Azula simply smiled in a condescending manner.

But then Orora's gaze found his.

Where she had looked at him with such trust and adoration just this morning, now there was only hurt, anger and disdain.

So powerful were her emotions, that he actually hesitated in attacking her, his stance softened and his arms lowered a little.

A blast of fire stopped Azula from attacking. Iroh, the source of the blast, jumped down from the wall of the cave and stood in front of Orora and her friends.

"You've got to get out of here. I'll hold them off as long as I can." He called over his shoulder as he sent another wall of raging fire at his own family and the agents.

Her heart dropped and fear settled in her bones. "No! Master!"

"Orora!" He roared, stopping her in her tracks. "You swore an oath to do as I asked you. You swore!"

She stopped short.

After a moment a cry of utter frustration fell from her lips, and she threw her arms forward, allowing the trunks of ice to fly through the air and take several Dai Li agents down with them.

Running towards Aang and Katara, she quickly gathered them both close. Katara looked at her with such hopeless eyes that Orora felt her heart break for the young girl.

"Hang on." She said, creating a pillar of water and waterbending all three of them out by way of a waterfall.

                                          ————————–

Once his Pupil had disappeared from view, Iroh took a deep breath and submitted. The Dai Li quickly encased him in crystals. He raised his head to see his niece smiling in a triumphant manner.

His eyes met Zuko's before Iroh looked away, ashamed, disappointed, but most of all, saddened.

                                          ————————–

It was no easy task, taking both Katara and Aang back to the tea shop. The girl was barely walking, so lost she was at the realization that her other half was dead. Luckily, the waterfall had opened up to a canal close to the tea shop, and Orora had managed to get Sokka's attention from where he kept watch on Appa.

The moment they were on, Orora wasted no time. "Appa! Yip yip" She called. They had to get out as fast as they could.

Once they were in the air, she turned her attention to Katara and Aang. The girl was placing Aang's body against Appa. And though her eyes still held that lost and devastated look, she reached around her neck to pull out a vial.

Bending the water from inside, the young girl pressed the now glowing water against the wound on Aang's back.

She was sitting beside Sokka, anxiously peering over the saddle just like the rest of them. In her heart she prayed. She prayed to every Spirit out there. She prayed to Yue.

She prayed and prayed.

A gentle glow suddenly ignited the night sky and Orora watched as Katara suddenly smiled, tears in her eyes and hugged Aang to her chest.

He was alive.

Aang was alive.

He was alive.

But then, why did she still feel like the world had ended.

                                          ————————–

"We've done it, Zuko." Azula stated as she sat on the Earth King's throne. "It's taken a hundred years, but the Fire Nation has conquered Ba Sing Se."

Zuko, still reeling from what had happened, was having a hard time believing everything. "I betrayed Uncle." He said in a low voice.

He betrayed his Soulmate.

Azula stood. "No, he betrayed you." She clarified before continuing. "Zuko, when you return home, Father will welcome you as a war hero."

Zuko shook his head. "But I don't have the Avatar. What if Father doesn't restore my honor?" He asked his sister, feeling those first lick of panic along his skin.

"He doesn't need to, Zuko." She reassured him, placing ah and on his shoulder. "Today, you restored your own honor."

With that she walked away, disappearing into the dark.

His shoulders slumped, as if the weight of the entire world was on them. His hand had been clenched in a fist at his side the entire time, but now with Azula gone, he lifted it up.

Opening his fingers he stared at the object within.

A small blue hair comb set with the carving of a dragon.

                                          ————————–

Tag List - @wavesofchaos​ @violet-potter​ @rennysketch​ @emma-andrea1 @lovesammikinzz @fuzzyfestcat @msrawog @notsaelty @lust-for-pan @aces-tattooartist @jinxxangel13 @lotr-got @bitterspoons @realrintaro @gatorgirl151 @inutheangel @heartfully10 @lucaaahhh @juniper-july19 @anuttellaa @gfksz @bussyvussy @punksnotdeadbutiam @ablofftoneverland-blog-blog @slut-for-menn @vyliie

[ozarkthedog]

Happy birthday Ozzie, and congratulations on your follower milestone!!! You beautiful bean, I'm so glad this hellsite put us in each others' paths.

📝 For location-based smut prompt, Tim Rockford and dealer's choice of

public -8 inside one muses’s office. OR public 9 - inside a third party’s office they shouldn’t have access to. 

Just need this man to get freaky with me in an office setting is what I'm saying because look at him:

😭 i’m thankful everyday that we’ve gotten so close! here’s my token of gratitude. 😘💙

18+ mdni. Tim Rockford x f!reader. oral sex (fem receiving). public but private setting — office. special guest.

This is so wrong. 

It was bad enough that Tim was your superior and that you'd been sneaking around for the last month, fucking each other whenever he had a few moments of free time, but using a random co-worker's office? That was flat out stupid. 

Tim drops to his knees in the small room, making quick work of your skirt and hooking one of your legs over his leather holster encased shoulder.

He breathes in deep as he presses the lower half of his jaw against your panty clad mound. "Been thinkin' about this sweet pussy all day." He holds your weary gaze as he slots the thin material to the side and latches his lips around your clit.

Your fingers card through his hair, tugging just so to make him groan into your slick heat. His tongue dances along your slit, dipping between your folds, earning him soft hisses and mewls from your gasping lips.

This is sure to blow up in your faces, but as Tim slides two thick fingers into your dripping core and rubs expertly against your slick walls, you couldn't care less.

"Shit- you're fuckin' soaked." Tim groans as your velvet walls mold to the shape of his girthy digits.

Your spine bows against the corkboard nailed to the wall; it's pinned with a precise diary of information: crime scene photos, newspaper clippings, and various stake-out notes. The small plastic tac heads dig into your skin as Tim sucks your clit into his mouth and vibrates the little button with a deep groan.

Your chest heaves under your blouse as the pleasure steadily mounts. Your hips move on their own, grinding against Tim's stubble and tongue. Brute hands circle your hips, keeping you safe and balanced as your peak draws closer.

He leans back on his heels and stares up at you. His cheeks are flushed a desert pink, and his lips glisten under the dim light as he works you closer and closer to the edge.

"Come on my tongue. Wanna taste you." Tim husks before diving back into your cunt with a feral energy you'd only come to know since being with him.

Your eyes flutter closed as the pleasure envelopes you, drowning all your senses. Had your eyes been open, you would've seen the shadowy figure slink through the door just as you were starting to come.

A heavy wave of arousal coats Tim's tongue as he pushes it further into your drenched hole. He grunts at your taste, greedily drinking you down and licking every creamy drop from your swollen cunt as you bite back the wanton moans that threaten to slip from your lips. 

Tremors rake your body as you catch your breath and come back into your body. The foreign, bitter smell of smoke perks your senses. Your heart slams into your throat as a red ember glows from a dark corner of the room. 

"You put on quite a show, Gatita." A deep voice praises from the black abyss. 

Tim moves lightning fast, spinning on the spot and shielding your body from the unknown figure.

Javier Pena steps into the light. Your co-worker and whose office you now had the pleasure of corrupting. 

He stalks toward his desk with a glint in his eye, pinning you and Tim to the floor as he retrieves a folder that's left on top of a mess of papers.

The men exchange silent words while Javier takes a long drag from his cigarette. Tim relaxes, his broad shoulders slightly sagging once he realizes the threat is neutralized. Javier smirked at your wide eyes while he exhaled a lungful of smoke toward the ceiling.

"You should lock the door next time," Javier suggests as he moves to leave. He hesitates, hand perched on the shiny, brass knob before looking over his shoulder. "Unless you're looking for a third person to join." 

Ozzie’s 11k birthday sleepover

[idiotwithoutagoodname]

Arthur bleeding out and looking like he just fell from a 15 story story building and was run over 3 times in a row and still managing to pull bitches and collect them like they are Pokémon is giving such babygirl vibes.

[jaypgartifacts]

a weird guy appear