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bonky-n-steeb · 2 years

Text

ruin you

summary || you think this failed mission is Lloyd’s fault. Lloyd thinks you need to learn some fucking manners.

warnings || dom!Lloyd . dom/sub dynamics. hate fucking. power imbalance. unprotected sex. creampie. degradation. praise kink. humiliation. daddy kink. wall sex. corruption kink. choking. filthy Lloyd. asshole Lloyd. brat tamer Lloyd. a lot of dirty talk. dacryphilia. petnames. horny thots. enemies to lovers. PWP — MINORS DNI 🔞 if any of this makes you uncomfortable then please do not read!

I have decided to not do taglists anymore, so if you wished to be notified of my newest updates please follow @bonky-n-steeb-lib and turn on the notifications!

I wrote this in like hours… hope you like this tho!!

“This is all your fault!” You huffed as you carelessly deposited your sack on the floor. “My fault?” Lloyd squinted his eyes calculatingly. “Yes! We had Six but because of your arrogance and your inability to control your anger, we lost him!” You pressed your fingers to your aching head.

“I didn’t hear you. Say it again.” He sarcastically pressed a hand to his ear to hear better. His eyes were shining with pure malice and you took a step back in shock. You knew he was a bit crazy, but this behaviour was absolutely insane. Now you knew why he was fired from the agency this early.

“Listen, I don’t wanna fight. I just wanna get this job done and I’m sure you want that too.” You sighed as you headed towards your room in the vast penthouse. It was Lloyd, everything had to be grand, even the nightly stay.

“But that doesn’t mean I can let you talk to me like that.” The command in his voice made a shiver run down your spine. “I told you I don’t wanna fight, but that also doesn’t mean that you can look down on me. I’m an agent, and I’ve lasted in the agency much longer than you, so if someone is superior, it is me.”

“Oh really? Because if that was true, then your ‘agency’ wouldn’t have come to me begging on their knees to catch a fucking rogue.” He added fingers quotations. You knew angering him wasn’t a good option, but you were furious. “You know what Lloyd? Fuck you!”

You were about to walk away and relax in your room, but your plans were thwarted when you found Lloyd’s hand around your throat. He truly travelled with lightning speed as he pressed you against the wall. You couldn’t stop a low moan from escaping your lips.

His face lightened with a knowing smirk and you closed your eyes in shame. It was a dirty fantasy buried deep inside you, or so you had thought. Lloyd was handsome, despite that trashstache, or rather with it. And you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fantasised about him for the last few nights.

“Didn’t know you were in such freaky shit.” He whispered in your ear. You chewed on your lip and tried looking anywhere but his eyes. “Look at me.” He pressed his fingers into your jaw and turned your head towards him. “Do you like this?” You just shrugged at his question. “I’m serious.”

What you didn’t expect him to do was press his hard length against your leg to show just how serious he was. “Oh.” You gasped. “Yeah. So you like it? Cuz I have some ideas.” He comically winked and you would’ve laughed if you weren’t in this position.

“Yes.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard it just fine. “Not so uptight now huh?” You gulped as you already knew you were going to get the ride of your life. You gasped like a fish when he quickly turned you around and held you to the wall by your shoulders.

“Arch that back for me baby.” His words were a cruel mockery, and yet you were getting off on it. You did as he said and he pulled your pants down, revealing your ass to him. He ran his huge palm over your butt and hummed thoughtfully. “Now daddy’s gotta discipline you baby. Hold tight.”

That was all the warning you got before his hand came crashing down on your ass. You squirmed in the place, but he held your tighter. “I told you to stay still, do you wanna five more by being a brat?” You couldn’t really remember if he said that, but he tried your best nevertheless.

He smacked your other cheek and you bit your lip to stop the whimper from spilling through. Your face was pushed to the side and he clear saw that. “I wanna hear you scream.” He whispered in your ear before spanking you in quick succession. His signet ring was leaving behind a cool impression. “Oh my god Lloyd!”

“I didn’t hear that. Say it again. And this time, say it right.” He repeated his previous words. Your fingers uselessly curled onto the wall and each slap to your rear was sending electric pleasure up your nerves. Lloyd wasn’t a name to be moaned so it was better to call him what he wanted. And you definitely hadn’t thought about it before, nope.

“I’m sorry daddy!” You squealed. Your ass was positively burning by now and you were loving the buzz. He pressed his fingers on your heated cheek as he purposely squeezed it. “Hmm. Now that’s a good girl. You gotta remember that you aren’t the superior here. All I have to do is spank that bratty ass of yours and you turn into daddy’s whore.”

His lewd words were making you feel things you couldn’t possibly describe. There was a joy in submission that you hadn’t ever felt before and likely wouldn’t ever feel after. “Aww are you getting all shy one me? I bet you’re fucking wet like a slut down there, aren’t you?”

His fingers dipped into your folds and you moaned when his fingers rubbed over your swollen clit. “I thought you had better manners than that. No worries though, I’ll teach you. When I ask you something, you answer. Now be a good girl and say, yes daddy.”

“Yes daddy.” You followed his order. You spread your legs further apart to give him better access as he rubbed your folds. He rubbed tight circles over your sensitive nub and you shuddered. He ensured you were thoroughly wet before entering you with two thick fingers.

Your legs shook as he set a hard pace in fingering you. You tried holding onto the smooth wall before curling your fingers in his navy blue jacket. He pumped his fingers fast and hard and you could hear the lewd noise it made. “You hear that squelch? I really think you wanted this to happen.” He mocked.

His hand had slipped down to your hips and he was holding you in position as he fucked you with his fingers. Your entire body was shaking with the precision of this act. He scissored his fingers and you moaned out. He pulled out his fingers before you could cum and you leaned your head against the wall.

You could hear the distinct sound of unzipping and his groans as he pulled out his cock to rub against your folds. He slathered your slick clinging on his fingers to his cock before pushing into you. He didn’t go easy this time and pushed in a single stroke, making you lose balance.

Your eyes rolled back at the stretch as this was probably the thickest cock you’d ever had. You knew his fingers were going to leave bruises behind as he held you tight while ramming into you like a man possessed. His heavy grunts and moans were music to your ears.

“Good girl.” Your breath hitched at his praise. “Taking my fat cock so well, as if you were made just for it.” His thrusts were unrelenting and hard. “You shouldn’t worry your pretty little head going after big cases when you can do just this, keep my cock warm.”

You were standing on your tip toes and you could feel his pants against your heated ass and all this only added to the sensations crawling up your spine. Lloyd was nailing your spot perfectly and fucking little whimpers and moans out of you.

You could feel yourself getting closer to your release and you clenched down on Lloyd. “Are you gonna cum, princess? You gonna cum on daddy’s cock? I can feel you squeezing my cock so well. Go ahead and cum for me baby.”

You hadn’t ever thought you’d cum on command, but here you were writhing on Lloyd’s cock. Your entire body trembled and you probably babbled nonsense as you rode the high of your orgasm. You felt like a firecracker set by Lloyd.

“Gonna cum in you. Gonna keep you full and dripping with me.” He gave a shout as he came inside you while you were still riding the aftershocks. You felt his cock twitch inside you as he started losing rhythm of his thrusts and settled deep within you.

You both panted hard as you stood still without moving. You could feel his cum leaking from the side of his cock despite it plugging you up. You let out a long breath as he pulled out slowly. You leaned your head against the wall thinking this was over, but how wrong you were.

Lloyd bent a little and spread your folds apart to see his cum dripping out of you. He dipped his fingers in the mess and you squirmed with sensitivity. He swapped up the mixture of his cum and your slick and brought it front of your mouth and obediently let him push it past your lips.

“Good girl. Just one session and you’re learning so well.” You closed your eyes and mindlessly sucked. You didn’t even realise that a few tears had slipped past your eyes until Lloyd licked the tear tracks. “But you have so much to learn, and the night’s still young.”

#lloyd hansen #ruin you #chris evans #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #the gray man #lloyd hansen smut #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #llyod hansen #lloyd hansen one shot

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zombiec · 4 months

Text

After party | Jean Kirstein

(Jean calls reader his boyfriend but other than that readers gender isn’t specified)(reader has a dick ofc>o<!!!)

Hockey player reader x Jean

Synopsis ☆: Jean is jealous of you and Erens relationship . He handles his jealousy in a different type of way.

Warning: possessive Jean, Eren slander a lil bit, breeding kink a little, weed>.<!!!, power bottom Jean, mating press, Jeans ass is referred to as boy pussy.

a/n: this is kinda long? Also can males squirt🤔🤔🤔idk but I made him so😹😹

You were so mad. One of the players from the other team unnecessarily shoved you really hard, causing you to punch him as best as you could through the helmet. Somehow you were the one who was sent out. You slammed open the penalty bench box and threw your hockey stick on the floor. Taking off your helmet and your gloves because it was hot as fuck and you were sweating your ass off. You heard the door to the penalty box open but you didn’t look towards it.

“Hey” it was Sasha . You didn’t respond back because you knew why she was here. “Come on you and Jean need to make up” Earlier you two got into a fight. You and Jean were standing by your car talking, when Eren came over to ask you something. He whispered something in your ear and you chuckled and said “yeah I gotchu” he hugged you then walked off. You turned towards Jean who was glaring at you with his arms crossed. You looked at him confused. Jean hated that look on your face you looked so stupid.

Jean started walking away, but you were quick to grab him by his wrist. “Where you going” “I’m going to find my seat. go hang out with your boyfriend” he replied. ‘What’ you thought. What is he talking about. You don’t know why but Jean always gets angry whenever you interact with Eren, it’s so annoying to you . “What’re you talking about Jean” you said to him and he shivered at the way you said his name. “I said go talk to your boyfriend, eren” “what the fuck are you on about, Whyre you always mad when eren talks to me” you said and looked at Jean with a frown.

“I’m not fucking mad I don’t even care. He obviously likes you though” you look at Jean dumbfounded. Like you haven’t proved to him over and over that you want to be with him and only him. He’s so stupid and it’s making you angry. You and Jean always flirt and kiss. A lot. It’s never passed that point though . You two haven’t tried a relationship yet because you’re scared if it ends out bad, then you’ll lose ypur best friend.

“Why does that matter?” Jean looks at you with his arms folded and a frown on his face. “It matters because you like to stick your dick in anything that walks” now it was your turn to frown. Everyone on campus believes you’re a play boy, but you’re not. you bailed on what was supposed to be a one night stand, she got mad and all of a sudden you’re the campus thot. A ‘jock’ who just likes getting their dick wet. It’s not true and Jean knows that, so why would he use that against you.

“Maybe I will go fuck him” you said and shouldered him while you were walking past. This brings us back to the present. ”why would I do that” you spoke to sasha. “Because you guys are supposed to end up together. come onnnn he didn’t mean it he was jealous” You rolled your eyes “he’s always jealous” before sasha could say anything else you were being called back into the game. “I’ll see you later Sasha” you said and grabbed your things and went back into the rink.

With 2 minutes left on the clock and the score 12 - 12 it was up to you and your team mates to make this last shot. You currently had the puck. Dribbling it towards the goal but then you get crowded by 2 big ass men from the other team, so you pass to Connie who happened to be on the other side of you who was wide open. He dribbles it closer to the goal and tries to score but it gets blocked by the goal keeper. The goal keeper tried to pass it to one of his teammates but you blocked it just in time and passed it to Connie. Connie was then bombarded by the opposite team and passed it back to you. You saw a small opening and took your shot. You made it. YOU FUCKING MADE IT. The buzzer rang loud and you looked at the score board. 13-12. You won. Your team won championships.

The crowd erupted in cheer and your team came and lifted you up into the air. Everyone was cheering and hugging. I was so happy we finally made it to championships. Connie walked up to you and dabbed you up.” Hey nice shot!!” You grinned “Thanks gang” “Are you going to Erens party?” You raised your eyebrow. “His mom is letting him throw a party” Connie chuckled “hell nah she’s on vacation” ‘oh boy’ “yeah I’ll go” “alright I’ll see you there” Connie said and walked away.

You walked into the locker room to go change so you can start heading to Erens party. Meanwhile with Jean. “DID YOU SEE THAT GOAL UGH THEYRE SO GOOD” sasha was geeking right next to me, she was so loud. “Yes I saw sasha” I said a little exasperated. I’m still upset me and my boyfriend got into a fight. They aren’t really my boyfriend but I call them that because theyre mine. I didn’t mean to call them a slut, but like they’re always talking to Eren, and I know eren wants them he’s literally told me so. I saw my boyfriend walk out the locker rooms and guess who I saw walking up to my boyfriend… Erens desperate ass. He asked them something and I saw my boyfriend nod and they walked off.

….WHAT THE FUCK. He’s doing this on purpose to piss me off I swear he is. Suddenly I was pulled out of my thoughts when Sasha tapped me. “Do you wanna go to Erens party?” Sasha knows I hate eren so why would she ask me that. “Your boyfriend’s gonna be there” Connie said popping out of nowhere. “Really? He hates parties” Connie shrugged. “Fine I’ll go”

Back with you. You were currently driving eren to his house because he asked for a ride. The car was blasting with music until it was turned down. “I got a question” eren suddenly piqued up. “Yes?” “Are you and Jean dating” you laughed. “No why?” “Because he’s always glaring at me and I’ve seen you two kissing before like a lot to be honest” “he’s just jealous because he thinks you like me.” “Hell no” ‘well damn’ you thought. “Oh no not like that I’m dating mikasa.” Your mouth dropped. “REALLY?!?” “Yes Whyre you so surprised” “I don’t know I would’ve never guessed.” “The fuck is that supposed to mean” you winced. “Oh look your house!”

You parked infront of his house and you both went in. There were already a whole bunch of people here. “How’d they get to your house before you” “mikasa probably let them in.” You sighed. You honestly hated parties you can’t even lie. You just wanted to come so you could get high to be honest. Looking to your left you see Reiner, Annie, and bertholt sitting on the L shaped couch. They were smoking, bingo! “Hey Reiner” you smirked at him. You can’t even lie you think hes sexy as fuck. “Hey come here” you walked over and sat down next to him.

“Let me get a hit” he passed the blunt to you. You took a few hits then passed it to Annie. You’re a lightweight so it doesn’t take a lot for you to get high. A few minutes later and you were out of it. You were currently laying on reiners lap. His thick warm thighs that your face was buried in, you were silently geeking because oh my god. “Who wants to play spin the bottle!” You heard Sasha say from the living room. You piqued up and turned to Reiner “thanks for letting me rest here imma go play” “anytime” Reiner said smirking. You smacked his thigh just to see it jiggle then walked off. Unknowing of the blush that was left on his face.

You saw the circle forming and was looking for a place to sit. You found a spot but it was next to the one and only Jean. ‘When did he get here’ you hope he didn’t see you on reiners lap or that’s another thing he’s gonna tweak out about. The circle consisted of Armin , Mikasa, Annie, Eren, Connie, Sasha, Jean, a few random people you didn’t know, and then finally you. You sat next to Jean and the game begun. “Who wants to start.” Connie perked up “I’ll go” Connie spun the bottle and it landed on Annie. People oou’d and Connie leaned over the circle pecking Annie on the lips.

Next was Annie’s turn, she spun the bottle and it landed on you. You chuckled. Annie rolled her eyes and leaned over pecking your cheek. Sasha groaned “LAMEE.” “Shut up Sasha” mikasa told her, shutting her right up. It was your turn now. Spinning the bottle it starts to slow down..it stopped directly on Eren. Everybody in the circle got quiet. They know Jean doesn’t fuck with Eren and they know you and Jean are a thing. Suddenly Jean turned the bottle towards himself. Eren spoke up “that’s not how the game works” “I don’t give a fuck” Jean said and turned towards you.

He put his hand behind your head and aggressively pushed you towards him forcing you two to kiss. You can’t even lie that shit was sexy as fuck. You love when Jean gets possessive. Jean got more into the kiss and climbed into your lap. He tried to grind into you but you gripped his waist to stop him. “What the fuck are you trying to do? Are you trying to ride me infront of everybody” you whispered so only he could hear. “Fuck yes” he responded. You immediately picked him up by his thighs. “We’re using one of your guest rooms” you said to Eren and walked off. “take me to Erens room and fuck me in there.” “No shut up” Jean whined and you took him into an empty room.

When you walked in you put Jean down. “What is up with you today?” Jean huffed. He didn’t say anything because you should know why he’s acting up. “Hello? I’m talking to you” you grabbed him by his neck tilting his head up by his chin. “Nothing” you rolled your eyes “it’s obviously something” now it was his turn to roll his eyes. Why don’t you get it. Whyre you so stupid. He gets so jealous when he sees you with Eren or literally anyone. He can’t help that you’re sexy as fuck and everyone wants you. He saw you on reiners lap and he was so mad. Just thinking about it is pissing him off so bad.

Looking up at you Jean glared. You raised your brow “What?” “I saw you with Reiner” ‘shit’ you took your hand off his neck “why must you make me jealous all the time” Jean spoke walking making you walk backwards. “Why must you look so fucking good all the damn time” you fell back onto the bed that was in the middle of the room. Jean sat right ontop of your crotch, where you just so happen to be hard already. You were hard since he kissed you during spin the bottle. “Why must you drive me insane” he said gripping your collar. “Jean-“ “shut the fuck up I’m gonna show you who this dick belongs to” Jean says grinding on your dick through the jeans you were wearing.

You groaned and Jean pulled you into a kiss. The kiss was aggressive and was filled with lust. Jean dragged his hand down to the waist band of your pants. He wanted them off, he started pulling them off then you kicked off the rest. What’s left was your boxers, you don’t even have your boxers off and he could see how big you were. God he wanted it so bad he wanted you to make him a mother, no he didn’t want it he needed it. He looked up at you and you were already looking down at him with a smirk on your face.

“You wanted it so bad so take it” oh he will. He hurried to take off his shorts and his boxers. He took your hand and sucked on two of your fingers while looking at you. The way he was looking at you with lidded eyes and the way his tongue swirled around your fingers almost had you cumming in your boxers. When he felt it was good enough he took your fingers and guided it to his ass. You put your fingers in his hole and immediately thrusted them up into him. He moaned and threw his arms around your neck.

He was moaning and placing sloppy kisses on your neck. You added another finger in him trying to stretch his hole. “Just put it in already please” you grabbed Jean by his hair and kissed his lips. He moaned into the kiss grinding harder on your fingers. You pulled your fingers out his ass making him whine and making his hole close around nothing. Ignoring his sounds you guided your dick into his hole.

Jean gasped so loud. He unwrapped his arms from your neck and put his hands on your shoulders. ‘Fuckkkkk’ Jean thought. You were so fucking big you were stretching him so damn wide. He’s seen your dick before you two have sent pictures to each other but he never thought it would feel this fucking good. Jean sunk lower onto your dick until it was fully inside him. Your hands went on his thighs trying to guide him but he smacked your hand away. “I t-told you I’m going to show you this dick belongs to me” he said and did a little practice bounce you groaned and gripped the blankets beneath you.

You would just ignore him, grab his waist and fuck up into him but you could tell he was desperate to prove something to you. He wanted to prove that you belong to him and only him..and you were going to let him. “Pay attention to me” Jean whined. You looked at him and smirked. He started to bounce on your dick going up and down. He was going too slow for you. “Mmm~ go faster baby” Jean bounced harder and faster on you making him let out loud ass moans.

“Mmph~ feels so good” you heard him whisper huskily in your ear. You started to thrust up into him feeling his warm walls envelope your dick got you going crazy. Jean moves his hips in circles and you’ve had enough. You grab Jean by his thighs and fuck up into him. “FUCKK~” he yells. “You’re moving too slow for me baby we both know you own this dick let me show you who owns this boy pussy” you said and turned Jean around so he was on all fours. Jean wanted to be in control but fuck the sound of you owning his ass sounds so good and the fact you called it a boy pussy has him ready to be bred.

You grabbed Jean by his waist and started to fuck him. The sight of his hole swallowing your cock has you ready to cum. You bend down to jeans ear “you’ll never get fucked good like this” Jean moaned and matched the pace you were going at while fucking back into you. “I-im gonna cum” you slapped his ass and he came with a loud moan. But you weren’t done yet.

You turn Jean around so that he’s in a mating press. You put his legs up on your shoulders. “W-wait I just ca~ AH” you thrusted into him not caring about what he had to say. You pinned his hands next to his head and looked him straight in the eyes. He was so pretty his face was red and he had a flustered look on his face. His hair was splayed on the bed and he was breathing hard. “You’re so gorgeous” you say while moving some of his hair out of his face. Jean blushed hard at the comment and it drove him closer to his second orgasm.

You pulled out of Jean so only your tip was inside of him, then slowly you put your dick inside him. You hit something inside of Jean which you guessed was his g spot by the way he gasped. “FUCKKKKK RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE” he tried to pull you impossibly closer scratching at your back. You thrusted into him hitting his prostate over and over driving him crazy. Jean felt a building up sensation and he couldn’t hold it in anymore “IM GONNA CUMM IM GONNA CUM” “cum for me baby” Jeans body spasms and his release splashes on your face.

It’s silent for a few moments before Jean hears you chuckling. He whines and slaps your shoulder. “Did you just squirt” Jean covers his face and turns away from you. “Shut upp.” You pull out of Jean slowly causing a small moan to come out of him. You get up to get towels so that you could clean both of you up. You go into the bathroom that’s connected with the room and get a few towels because you guys made quite a mess. You come back to Jean and see he’s almost fallen asleep poor baby must be exhausted. You wipe him and yourself down then put the towels in the garbage because who’s going to reuse those. You lay down next to Jean and turn off the light.

Jean snuggles up with you. “Will you be my boyfriend” you heard him say quietly. “Ofcourse” you said and kissed his forehead. He looked up at you “you missed” you chuckle and kiss his lips. You were the happiest person right now and no one could ruin that.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Posted this on the wrong account at first whoops!!

Anyway guys hope you enjoyed >.<!!!

Next is Naoya x reader 😾😾

#dom reader #top reader #bleh :p #seme male reader #sub character #dom male reader #gn reader #sub aot #aot smut #sub Jean #sub Jean Kirstein #I want him sitting on my face #I NEED IT

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ladamedusoif · 5 months

Text

Silvered

(Tim Rockford x f!reader)

Pairing: Tim Rockford x f!reader

Word count: ~ 800 words

Rating: Explicit (18+; MDNI)

Content/warnings: oral (f receiving); established relationship; PiV sex; voice kink; Tim is a smooth talker; this is literally just smut; but it’s got some sweetness

Summary: Tim Rockford’s talented silver tongue has a reputation, in more ways than one.

Notes: It started as some horny group chat thots based on that Tim gifset and then my perennial menaces enablers, @julesonrecord and @agentjackdaniels, told me I should post it. So I did.

When you first started dating Tim, you learned quickly that his “silver tongue” was something of a running joke at the precinct. He could charm anyone, his colleagues said - suspect, witness, informant, fellow officers. It was one of the reasons, they said, that he’d been able to rise so successfully through the ranks. Over beers at their favourite bar, you smiled as they good-naturedly teased him about his way with words.

“No need for ‘good cop, bad cop’ with Rockford,” one of the other detectives had said, shaking her head as she swigged her beer. “Just breaks out that voice, and bam - information secured. Silver tongue strikes again.”

That was the first time Tim spent the night. Stretched out on your bed later, you swiftly came to know just how much more that silver tongue could do, beyond winning over informants and cracking cases. How many times did he make you come with his mouth alone, that first night? Three? Four?

No matter the number. It was enough to leave you boneless, yielding, entirely and wholly under his spell. Enough to have you ready and willing to tell him everything, anything, to give him the lot - just as long as he would keep those soft, pink lips sealed tightly around your pussy, and that silver tongue plotting new courses over and around your clit.

He went about the business of eating you out just as he did any case. Lay the evidence out in front of him, study it, and work it methodically, carefully, precisely. He held himself back from getting too excited until he knew when he was on the right track - usually one or two orgasms in, when the wetness was pooling at the tops of your legs and your hips started to buck against his face as he pulled another from you.

Tonight, he’s building you up to a third, languidly swirling his tongue over that sensitive, swollen bud with just the right amount of pressure. He hums contentedly against you, the vibrations reverberating through your centre and enhancing the pleasure all the more. “One more, baby,” Tim mutters, pulling back slightly to survey the mess he was making of you. He slips his fingers into your cunt as he looks up at you, dark eyes glittering and nose still nudging at your mound.

And then he’s back, tongue lapping and swirling and dipping into the wet heat of your pussy like there’s no tomorrow.

The pressure mounts beautifully deep within you - exquisite torment, glorious ache, as you know you’re nearing the edge. Instinctively, you reach down just before you succumb, winding your fingers tightly through Tim’s dark, silver-streaked curls. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he purrs delightedly at the sensation.

You hold him there for another moment or two, and then pull his head back firmly so that you can see him - and he can see you - as you fall apart on his skilled, clever tongue. His eyes sparkle as they gaze into yours, sharing a moment so erotic, so lewd, and so intimate and soft.

Tim groans with pleasure as he helps you ride out the last waves of your orgasm, revelling in the taste and feel and smell of your sex. You’ve never seen him move up the bed, unzip his pants, and take you so quickly. He cages you with his arms, bends forward to kiss you, and lets you taste yourself on his mouth as he fucks you.

You know he isn’t going to last. Most of the time he’s an expert in that department, always making sure you come first while sustaining your mutual pleasure. He’s gentlemanly like that. Won’t finish until you do.

Tonight, though, the combination of your taste, your wetness soaking his face, moustache, and beard, and above all the way you jerked his head back so you could look deep into his eyes as you came hard against his mouth is just too much. Frankly, Tim thought later, you were lucky he didn’t ruin his freshly dry-cleaned dress pants there and then.

A couple of hard thrusts and he’s coming inside you, moaning loudly as he finds his own release and reward deep within your body. He collapses onto your chest, shifting down to rest his head against the soft, sweat-veiled skin of your breasts.

Tim drifts into the kind of deep, restorative sleep he’s only ever experienced since he started dating you. His breath is warm against your body and you hold him close. Idly, you play with his damp curls, and trace a gentle caress with your thumb along his plush lower lip.

#tim rockford #tim rockford fanfiction #tim rockford smut #tim rockford x f!reader #tim rockford x you #tim rockford one shot #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #silvered fic #merge mansion

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gummydummy19 · 7 months

Note

Hi Gummy😌❤️

since we're talking about kinktober...

How about Sherlock(Henry version) and semi-public sex (or something like voyeurism?)

I'm imagining Sherlock and reader (friends or lovers) are on a case when they are close to being discovered their true identities when Sherlock suggested that they could "make love" to fool the guards in (let's say) this brothel.

they could be faking it (till the vibe becomes too strong) or they are truly in love so they went at it anyway😋

Feel free to change or add to my lil thot😌❤️

OH GOODIE!! I love getting requests and I love love LOVE this idea!

Kinktober day 1: semi-public (Sherlock Holmes x F reader)

Moan

A/N: I must admit I don't really like voyeurism but I really loved the request so I hope I still did it justice <3

Content Warnings: smut, friends to lovers, "let them hear" trope, banter, giggles, fluff, swearing

You didn't have any family. The girls at the factory were your sisters, you all knew each other through and through. So when your friend Rosaly went missing, you knew she counted on you to discover the truth.

The entire country knew of Sherlock Holmes and his incredible detective skills. According to the papers, there wasn't a case he couldn't solve. So you scraped together nearly all your savings and traveled across the country to see him. Sadly, when you arrived at his office on a chilly autumn afternoon you were disappointed to find it empty. With nowhere else to go, you decided to wait it out.

Sherlock Holmes had always been quite the gentleman... and a handsome one at that. He arrived at his office somewhere in the afternoon. He wasn't usually this late, but he was stuck on a case and had indulged himself in one too many drinks the night before, leaving his body tired and his head hurting. However, his headache was quickly forgotten when he noticed a shivering young woman on his office's doorstep.

"Excuse me miss, can I help you?" he asked politely.

"O-oh...I'm s-so sorry...I'm...I n-need..." you shivered

Sherlock took off his big, long coat, wrapping it over your shoulders as he helped you up. "Hush now, little one. Let's get you inside first, shall we?"

Once inside he quickly lit a fire and offered you a hot cup of tea while you told him everything. He agreed to take up the case and after enduring a lot of your begging he agreed to let you join him too.

And thus your adventure with Sherlock began. He offered you the sofa in his office to sleep on and you kept the space tidy and clean for him in return. Surprisingly he found you worked quite well together. You were fearless and smart and on top of that, the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.

After nearly two weeks of working together, you were finally close to finding out where Rosaly was, through clues that she had left for you.

The puzzle pieces were finally falling together, all you needed was one more piece of information, and according to your last clue, this was where it was supposed to be.

"A brothel?!" You observed as you looked up at the tall building.

There were pink and red lights flowing through the half-closed windows you didn't dare to stare at for too long.

"This is the only address I can find according to those numbers. It has to be here." Sherlock stated.

You took a deep breath. Time to put on your big girl pants.

"Alright. Let's go then," you said, already starting to marsh forward

"Hold on there, little one." he pulled you back by your hips, "You are not coming in there with me."

"What would you have me do then? Stand out here in the dark all by myself?"

You had a good point.

"Fine, but you will do as I say. Understood?"

You rolled your eyes but agreed anyway, joining him as he made his way through the door.

"I need a room," he stated firmly.

"Mister Holmes! Of course!" The lady greeted him with a smile, "I'm sure you don't need an empty room, right?" She joked, "Shall I send up Elisabeth-"

"That won't be necessary." He interrupted quickly. You were sure he was hoping you hadn't caught that, but unfortunately, there was already a jealous twinge spreading in your stomach.

"I brought my own. Just the room will do," he added and then the lady looked you up and down, making a heat surge up your cheeks.

"Sure thing," she replied, looking through her keys, "Only the best for the country's best detective."

She shot you both a wink as she handed him the key and Sherlock quickly took your hand and led you upstairs.

"Go to the room and lock it. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"What are you gonna do?" you asked, a bit worried

"I'll be right back." He repeated before closing the door behind him.

You did as he asked and locked it before silently taking a seat on the bed.

You looked around the room as you nervously toyed with your fingers. The sheets were soft and fluffy. You couldn't help but wonder which secrets they held. Which forbidden sights they had-

*knock knock knock*

You startled for a second until you heard his voice say "Open up..."

You rushed to the door and quickly let him in, locking it again behind him.

"I know where she is."

"What?" you asked, your brain still foggy for everything that was going on

"Rosaly. I know where she is. I know where to find her. We can be with her first thing tomorrow." he spoke again

"I..." You didn't know what to say, so you just did what felt right. You lunged forward and hugged him, whispering a couple "thank you's" as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

He was about to say something when a loud knock startled you yet again.

"Everything okay in there?" a male voice yelled.

You looked at him in panic. They must have seen him wander around the place.

"Moan." He said

"W-what?"

"Moan," he repeated

"W-wha...like...like we're m-making love?"

"No, little one" he grinned, "like we're fucking."

You didn't have time to think as Sherlock Swirled you around and pushed you against the wall with a loud thud.

"Moan, NOW!" he growled.

"Ah!" you moaned, earning a grunt from him in response.

"Do it again, louder," he whispered.

"OH!" you moaned again, louder, just like he asked.

"There you go," he praised, "good girl." There was a grin plastered on his face that made you blush.

Two can play this game, you thought.

You pushed him backward making him fall on the bed, earning another loud groan from him as you crawled on his lap.

"Oh, Sherlock!" You moaned passionately, as your eyes fell shut and your hands found his chest "OH yes YES." you couldn't help but giggle at your own theatrics, making your body bounce a little.

You weren't paying enough attention to his face to notice that the grin had melted away the second you straddled him.

"Oh yeah right THERE, please!!!" you tried to contain your laughter when suddenly Sherlock flipped the both of you over making you gasp.

"YEAH? Feels that good?" his voice was lower now and you could feel his bulge press right between your thighs.

Suddenly...it wasn't so funny anymore.

"Cat got your tongue?" He whispered, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

"I...I don't...I didn't..."

"Is it me that turned you into a stuttering mess or the fact that you're moaning for an audience?" He teased, pressing kisses down your neck to the swells of your breasts, currently threatening to spill out of your dress as your chest heaved underneath him.

"Sh-Sherlock..." you moaned, in earnest this time.

"Shush Sherlock? Do you wish to silence me, little one?" he grinned devilishly as his hands wandered under your dress, caressing your thighs.

"Oh....please..." you whimpered

"Now now, little one, I know you can be louder than that." he chuckled, fingers toying with your undergarments.

"I n-need..."

"Need what? Huh?" he ripped the fabrics in his way until he finally found what he was looking for. "Ah yes, needy you are indeed, as I have never felt a pussy quite as wet as this one..." he teased

"Come on, little one, tell me what you need."

"you..."

"louder..." he whispered lowly in your ear, teeth grazing the shell of it as he left little nibbles all over.

"you...YOU!"

"That's it!" he groaned as he lowered his pants, teasing your wet opening with the sticky tip of his cock.

"Tell them who's making you feel this good!"

"S-stop..."

"Want me to stop?" he smirked, knowing full well your sentence wasn't finished

'N-no! No, please just...AH FUCK!" you screamed as he entered you bare.

"There you go! Scream like the wanton little harlot you are!"

You didn't know if those words were meant just for you or for the men outside but in the moment you didn't care, as it made you squeeze his hard cock even harder.

"Sherlock! Please...please..." You didn't know what you were begging for, seeing as he was already seethed deep inside you, but somehow begging was all you could.

"Stop teasing..." you managed to get out. He loved how sweet and helpless you looked under him. How you managed to look so kind and innocent while he was balls deep inside you remained a mystery to him. Oh sweetheart..., he thought to himself

"....feels so fucking good..." he groaned, dropping down closer to you as he started to gently pump himself in and out of you.

"O-oh..." you moaned, tangling your fingers in his dark curls.

His hand hadn't left your face, while his other hand went on a mission to find the place where you were currently connected, somewhere between all those layers of fabric.

He tilted his hips, angling them to hit a spot inside you that made your eyes flutter, yet when his fingers finally reached their destination they shot open again.

"SHERLOCK!"

"That's right, princess. Let them know who's fucking you this good!"

He continued to pound into you, but despite his rough words, his actions were surprisingly gentle.

"M'gonna...gonna..." you keened, feeling yourself climb higher and higher.

"What do you need, little one?" he groaned, clearly getting very close to the edge as well.

"Little harder...just a little..." you whined, quietly.

Sherlock obeyed, gently building up his thrusts until he was smacking into your pussy perfectly.

"That's right! Need it harder, huh?" he yelled out loudly again.

"YES YES HARDER" you played along before whispering "Kiss me, please..." Making not only his cock but also his heart swell.

He immediately pressed his lips down onto yours, swallowing your moans while his fingers kept strumming your sensitive pearl.

You came hard around his cock and kept pounding into your clenching pussy perfectly. Your left hand pulled at his hair while your other hand clawed at his back so hard his shirt ripped a little.

Your orgasm triggered his, and he let out a loud groan as he shuttered above you while spilling his hot seed deep inside your womb.

You both lay there, a little out of breath. Sherlock had his head buried in the crook of your neck, where started pressing gentle kisses while you played with his hair and traced invisible lines on his back.

That night you and Sherlock stumbled down the stairs of that brothel equally rosy-cheeked. You in your ripped-up dress, he in his torn shirt. You walked out hand in hand, two dozen pairs of eyes burning holes in the back of your skulls, but neither of you cared, for the passion glowing hot in your chests would outburn them all.

A/N: IM SORRY IF THIS WAS SHIT IM ON MY PERIOD AND IM JUST A BIG SAP IM SORRY I APOLOGIZE IM JUST A GIRL YOUR HONOR.

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#gummydummy19 #fanfiction #fluff #smut #smutty thoughts #asks #sherlock holmes #henry cavill #henry holmes

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bettyfrommars · 4 months

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hi loves

a wee announcement/bit of reflection below the cut

nothing heavy, just some thoughts & updates

First of all, I want to say I love this fandom so much. Truly I do. It has carried me though possibly the hardest, loneliest year of my life (and this ol' girl has been though some dark times). I've made friendships here that I hope to cherish for the rest of my life.

I came into fanfiction in October of last year, after not writing anything substantial for almost a decade. My dear friend at the time said she was looking for a specific Eddie Munson story, so I wrote it for her. I wrote it in first person because I didn't even understand how "reader perspective" was a thing, that's how wet behind the ears I was to this world. My friend, on the other hand, is a well-versed fic reader, and I distinctly remember messaging her like, "okay, what the hell is a Y/N??"

I spent that entire dark, cold winter writing and passing it to her in parts like notes in a classroom. The rush of getting back to something I loved so deeply after so much time away turned me into a monster. I lived and breathed that story. We sent endless messages back and forth every day about what each character would do next, imagining ourselves in that world, with Eddie. We made playlists, we cried. We screamed and giggled and kicked our feet when they finally kissed. We mourned the loss when it ended and moped around a bit before going back to read it all over again. Some 40k words and four months later I realized, holy shit, I think I write fanfiction now?

In a way, fanfiction saved my life. It brought me back to a part of myself I had buried, a part of me that worried it might never see the light of day again. It came crawling out of the ground, gasping for air like, "you better stretch your fingers bitch because I have a lot to say."

In April, I started posting here when the fandom was notably beginning to wane, but I was happy to see there were so many still going hard for our man. I kinda creeped in, like a little scuttling crab, and was grateful to find that a handful of you embraced me.

Long story short, I am NOT leaving, not at all. I know the tone is there, but that is not what this is, lmao. I will hopefully keep this blog for as long as you will have me. I plan to finish writing I'm on Fire and Death Becomes Us, as well as maybe another bit for gargoyle!Eddie, and nightmare!Eddie, but the other series I've started (or planned to start) will stay on hiatus for a while, possibly forever. I will continue to post blurbs and hc's and whatnot, but I won't be committing to any new series or long fics.

My masterlists will remain intact for the time being for those who want to enjoy what is there. That being said, The Nightmare Factory and Stop the World and Melt with You, might be taken down in the future only because I plan to re-work them into original stories. I have a second non-fandom blog in the works that is dedicated to monsters, nightmares, and magic realism, and I will let those who are interested know about it when the time comes.

Mostly, I wanted to let you know that, even if you notice some changes, I will continue to persist with "My 2 Joe's" delulu era, possibly until the earth swallows me up. I am no longer taking requests, but my asks will always be open for thots, blurbs, obsessions, etc. You know how much I love hearing from you.

That's all really. Perhaps this is simply one of those "end of year" thought dumps, but I also wanted to say a heartfelt Thank You to those who continue to support me, enjoy my work, and share it. My Ride or Die monsterfuckers and biker Eddie enthusiasts. My nightmare Eddie dreamers, my Twilight Zone Eddie pineapple heads. My gargoyle Eddie romantics who cheer on our Stone Boy, and my Hybrid Steve lovers who leave their windows open at night. My True Blood friends who appreciate a vampire Eddie who is nothing like Bill Compton. My darlings, my fellow rebel rousers and misfits, my friends.

This is a very symbiotic relationship, and I could not/would not do this without you ❤️

#Betty thoughts #delulu for life

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nerdieforpedro · 3 days

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Friends look out for friends right?

Benny Miller x Diana (plus size OFC)

This fic is 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 1908

Summary: Benny recalls how he and Diana first met. Living arrangements are discussed in addition to why Benny ended up in jail last night.

Warning: questionable karaoke choices, a few thots, Benny cooking, more pining, reference to a fight and jail

Notes: A slow burn with Friends to lovers. I enjoy writing them. I need to fit in tacos for @musings-of-a-rose just because. She knows why. 🤣

Main Masterlist/ Benny Miller Masterlist/ Come away with me Angel Series

Benny thought back to when he first met Diana while he cooked breakfast the next morning:

Six months ago at the Saucy Cantina. It was karaoke night and none of the guys would sing with him. He even chose ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ one that the four of them would know, but none of them would sing with him. He wasn’t sure if it was just the three beers he had but he wanted to belt out a tune. There were three women near the sing book when he walked over, two of them were looking at a Beyonce song - she doesn’t have a bad one so that’s a safe choice. But the third woman who’s dark hair touched passed her shoulders was studying a page intently. He tapped her shoulder and she looked up, her honey brown eyes stared at him and he watched her baby pink lips move as she spoke, “Yes, did you wanna see the book?” Benny shook his head and asked what song she was thinking of doing. “You’ll laugh, but I was thinking of ‘Rich Girl’ or ‘Diamonds.’” She said, setting her finger on each song.

“Those two are pretty different. I was thinking of a song too but my brothers over there are buzzkills and don’t wanna join me.” He grinned, his eyes a little glassy from the beer. She chuckled and nodded, explaining that she had been outvoted and it looked like her and her friends were going to be singing Beyonce tonight.

“We don’t have to sing what they want to you know. I’ll sing ‘Rich Girl’ with you if you’ll sing ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ with me, Angel.” He offered a hand outstretched as he hopped up on stage. Fish tapped Pope and Will, pointing toward the small stage at the back of the bar. The woman who he would later come to know as Diana took his hand and hopped up on stage with him. Benny remembered that he didn’t let go of her hand the entire time on the stage as they sang the Hall and Oats song and danced, swaying their hips and stomping their feet in tune with the music. It earned them a standing ovation and they got a second when they finally sang ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ in which there were some squeals because neither of them could hit those notes and they may have had a round of shots in between numbers. Benny invited all three girls over to the table and kept Angel as he called her, next to him as they chatted and drank. Will and Fish noticed how Benny kept holding onto her hand, like she might bolt, but she didn’t seem to mind. When the girls went to the bathroom, they teased him about getting a girlfriend of karaoke. Benny told them to shut it and that she was just really nice, but he knew then he wouldn’t be alright with not knowing her name and noting seeing her again.

Over the course of the night, he learned her name Diana and she told him his, Benjamin, but to please call him Benny, no one calls him his full name. They exchanged phone numbers and he made sure to text her to check if she got home okay and to see if she wanted lunch. One would have thought that he’s asked her out on a date but it wasn’t, just brunch. It was fun and no pressure. It helped a lot that Benny was a goofball and that Diana liked telling bad jokes. It’s been great for the last six months, towing the line between friends and something more and easy, so very easy.

This morning, Diana woke up and had a headache. What should she do? Moving in with her mother would be the more reasonable of the two options, but could she stand living with the woman again? Especially now that she was being effectively kicked out because her roommate found a man and she hadn’t.

Benny was up off the couch and had folded the blanket. He was making some eggs and toast when he saw Diana walk out in a loose black tank top and pink shorts that bunched between her legs from her thighs rubbing together. Her eyes were blurry and she rubbed them to adjust to the bright light. They went wide when she saw Benny in her kitchen, shirtless in his jeans and no socks, his hair was down and coasting along the back of his neck. She sometimes forgets how tall and broad he is. No…she knows. She tried to forget, because if she thinks about it, she do that before bed again.

“What the hell Benny..?”

“Damn Diana, that’s not what I expected. I thought I’d at least get a ‘thanks’ or a ‘good morning’, no hospitality.” He turned with a wide grin, holding a spatula in one hand. Diana cleared her throat and took a few steps forward on the cold floor to make sure she wasn’t having another dream about the younger Miller again. It turned out she was not and he really was making her breakfast in her apartment.

“I-I didn’t expect you to be making breakfast. Thank you. I was just surprised. I didn’t think you could cook.” Diana walked over and leaned on the counter, her breasts were pushed together from her crossed arms as she watched him scrambling eggs in her frying pan. “Did you want me to start some bacon or toast?” She asked, Benny turned to answer her but was greeted by her ample cleavage that was exposed. Toward the scoop of her tank top, it looked like he might just be able to see the cusp of something. He’s not supposed to be thinking about that they’re friends. Benny wonders from time to time and feels guilty because of how close he keeps Diana. He swallowed the spit that had gathered in his mouth and nodded.

“Sure, make both. I’ll eat what you don’t. You like onions and peppers in your eggs right?” Benny asked, drizzling some on half of the eggs, Diana agreed and took out the bread and bacon to get started. The bacon she put between two paper towels and microwaved it while she plugged up the toaster to start on the bread.

“Benny, you take your toast like your hair?” She joked, he roared with laughed as he remembered first telling Diana that’s how he liked all his bread that wasn’t on a sandwich. He was finishing up the eggs while she made six pieces of toast and eight pieces of bacon. It was a lot of food, but after they sat down and split it up, Benny and Diana scarfed all of it down along with two glasses of water each. They sat at the table relaxing because they were both full. Diana decided to ask first.

“Benny, are you going to tell me why you were arrested last night? You told me you hadn’t had any issues with the law for a couple years. There had to be-”

“You really wanna know Angel? Then if I tell you, you need to move in with me.” Diana opened her mouth to protest but Benny held up his hand. “You’re gonna say no, but you know you and your mom are like oil and water. Also you can pay me rent if it makes you feel better. I’d rather you didn’t though. You’re my friend.”

You’re my friend.

Diana realized that the only one stressing about being in close quarters with Benny was her. It would be the better and cheaper choice. She’d just have to keep her wits about her and gawk at him…too much.

“Fine Benny, I’ll move in with you. I haven’t found another place besides my mom’s anyway. Now will you tell me why I had to get you from county last night?”

“You know that bar we go to often, right? I was drinking after a fight. May have lost, not a big deal. Point is, we were laughing and joking it was all good.” Benny leaned forward with both elbows on the table, his muscles taut. Diana wants to tell him to sit back or throw a blanket on so she won’t stare.

“I know the bar, yes.” She tilts her head, confused about where this is going. “If things were good, why were you in jail?”

“That bastard said, anyway. He said something he shouldn’t have. I showed him he should keep his mouth shut.” Benny shook his head and stood up from the table taking both plates and silverware over to the sink. Diana sighed following him and had her hands on her hips.

“Benjamin Miller tell me what he said. Now.” Her lips pressed together, and he knew her bottom lip had likely poked out. “Was it really that serious to where you needed to injure three men? I mean I’ve heard all sorts of things said-“

“I don’t care what you might have heard in the past but no one’s going to talk about you like that! Not while I’m breathing.” Turning toward her, his face was red as he chewed on his cheek. “He asked me how you were in bed because he was sure you were enthusiastic and loud since you sing so well. I told him to shut the fuck up and he followed it up with…it doesn’t matter. I should have made it so his jaw would be wired shut.” Benny tossed the dirty spatula in the sink and started running water in a large bowel, pouring in some soap to start washing. “You dry Diana.”

“Anything any drunk idiot says you shouldn’t listen to Benny. He’s an asshole. Don’t go to jail again. He and no other asshole is worth it.” Diana took the spatula and two forks to dry and put them to the side to put away.

“I’m not letting some douchebag think it’s fine to talk about you any kind of way Di, I’m not. I’ll try and stay out of jail. I can’t promise not to fight for you.” Washing the two plates, Benny handed them to Diana and watched as she bumped the drawer closed with her hip and leaned on her tip-toes to put away the plates after drying them. He found himself laughing to which she whipped the dishtowel at him.

“If I move in with you, you can’t be going back to jail Benny. I’m serious.”

“I am too.” Diana knows how serious he is which is a blessing and a curse. There’s always assholes that will say all sorts of things. Thankfully Benny was alright but what happens if he gets a longer sentence. Maybe he somehow thinks he won’t. They’re going to have to agree to disagree. “One other thing though Angel,”

“What now Benny? You gonna fight the cabinet for being too tall for me?”

“No. We need to go get my jeep from the bar. Then we can start moving your stuff today.” Whipping his hands on his jeans, he walks over to the couch and gets his shirt and slips it on. “Grab your keys.”

“I don’t leave the house in my sleep clothes Benny. Give me five minutes.” Rolling his eyes, he watches Diana make her way into the bedroom and close her door to get dressed. She may have fussed at him, but she was still moving in.

Goal accomplished

Notes on Benny’s guitar 🎸: @tinytinymenace @laurfilijames @rhoorl @musings-of-a-rose @megamindsecretlair @gwendibleywrites

#fanfiction #benny miller x plus size reader #benny miller #benny miller x ofc #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #Nerdie fic

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plasticfangtastic · 9 months

Text

Can We Be Lonely Together? Ch. 12 3/3

A Homelander X Stalker! Reader fanfic

This is a GN reader but male leaning for crackship reasons. this is also a Supe! reader fic

Author's note: YAY!! thank you for making it to the final part of the final chapter, hope y'all like it... there's an epilogue coming btw but its short thankfully! LONG CHAPTER ahead! warning! thank you for reading and I can't wait to drop the 2 fics I got in the works, one is just HomeAsh smut and the other just pure Homie fluff. previous chapter on #my fic tag and #can we be lonely together? tag in my blog.

R18+ Child death mention, child murder, gore, mild gore, murder, smut, Homie OOC towards Ashley, rape mention.

Chapter 12

Cont.

The morning after was without struggles, a new routine set itself after medication and breakfast now the cats needed your attention.

Homelander was still silent, still far away– but John did his best to look strong without his brother’s guidance, yet unable to stop hoping to see his brother's reflection.

You took to work, he said nothing about you entering the labs to pick up supplies, he even gave you his blessing, ensuring the security cameras were off during your shopping spree, the thought of you killing excited him greatly, pent up arousal still burning his loins as all you could muster after last night spat, was a quick fuck in the shower before bed and some head before breakfast, he had cummed but he wasn’t satiated.

Insufficient by all means, you backed up against his hips, the hot water reddening your sensitive skin, squeezing as he threatened to leave only for his hips to smack yours to reassure you that wasn’t going to happen, pumping a single thick load without leaving a bump, you cleaned him with your tongue, making sure to get every nook as he sheltered you poorly from the shower.

Your tongue flicked him awake, squeezing him with all your might as you pumped him messily, letting him watch as you pleasure your throat with his member, leaving him in awe as your nose got tickled by a small tuft of hair, his hand firm against your head as he groaned and hissed as your teeth rubbed his sides awake, holding hands as he came making sure to swallow every splurt and licked every drop you’ve spilled, before he could return the favor– Ryan woke up, so you cut it short this morning.

And then the cats protested, they complained a lot, demanding things after only being here for a day, but you and the kid seemed too happy to please.

It was to be a long day, he worried.

No calls during lunch break, or smoke break, no messages to remind him to eat and that a glass of milk was not a meal.

He knew you had the day off but he still expected something, you failed to reply to any of his messages.

He could feel something pressing against him.

It would be eight o’clock and you still haven’t called home, it was past nine and your phone kept leading to voicemail.

It was almost ten when Ryan asked about you, as he prepared to go to bed, Homelander reassured him that you were at work at Dolores’s restaurant, ordered him to keep the fort and headed out.

He hadn’t want to think about it but his mind betrayed him, did you lie? Were you with somebody else? who the fuck where you with!? his chest puffed the more and more he thought of that nameless woman, you wouldn’t. He was better looking, wealthier, smarter and high specs than some OnlyFans thot– were you trying to get back at him? Even after you forgave him? But the more and more he huffed, the nearest wall cracked deeper under his fist.

He felt that squeeze in his heart.

You've said you liked the difficulty.

What made this cheap mudperson difficult?

His throat grew an impossible knot, he felt againts the hall wall as he headed away from his apartment, resting his temples as he lost control of his heartbeat.

Boars had tusks to shred you, to impale you, to bleed you with, after all.

There you were lying cold in some rat infested alleyway, the stench of your rotting corpse hidden by putrid piles of rubbish, and wet bitumen.

There was you still crawling, still clinging but too far away, too quiet to catch anybody's attention– not that anybody would care in this city.

He choked, his mind racing and the ringing in his ear painfully loud at the thought of you calling for him behind red gargles, claws shred his insides.

Heading downstairs to Analytics to find one of your co-workers. Your phone stopped ringing and sent him straight to voicemail.

The man looked up, seeing the alarm in his expression, he was tense and shaky as he took the back of the chair, leaning slightly towards him, the man squeezed his bladder as the back seat cracked under Homelander’s grip.

“Give me the last known location for this cell phone.” He showed his screen to the man– now!”

He jumped and began checking the data, not questioning his motivations or why Homelander had that number saved in his contact as ‘Fiancee’ ; it took a couple of impossibly long minutes before something pop-up.

“It says that is–

“Soho. I know the place…”

Pantingly he looked away, his ears ringing too loud, and each movement felt tight, what could’ve possibly been there left for you? He caught himself as his eyes attempted to squeezed some weakness out of him, as his suit became unberably itchy.

“This phone hasn’t been active since it got there… no tower has picked it up afterwards, sir.”

“Good work. if it moves you call me.”

He was gone before the other man could even muster a response.

In minutes he had crashed on their lavish patio, it’d be another minute until Kent emerged from inside the house.

“I knew you’ve come…” he flashes your phone, the screen cracked– but I can’t help you.”

“Where the fuck is Y/N !?” He growled, illuminating the darkened patio.

“Pusher came by my office around two… by six I was handed this by an old colleague at the Times.” He smacked his lips– I was hurt.”

Untucking a newspaper roll from under his arm, Homelander didn’t care, his eyes glowing brighter than before, illuminating the skin around his eyes giving Kent a glimpse of veins and skullbone.

“God… are you here because you miss that ice queen?”

“My calls keep going to voicemail– even the burner phone.” He muttered– "I can't get ahold of them.”

“Hot damn– I told Pusher to leave you because you were never gonna last… seems I was wrong... you just wouldn’t leave unscathe. You ain’t going to find Y/N, they're gone, probably already got a new name and passport– you think you’re special? Let me guess Pusher said they’ll marry you?”

The light faded slightly, as Homelander shoulders stiffen, watching the arrogant prick get closer.

Thinking of that woman again, your bff would know if you two...

“Before you was a cute aspiring writer, then the librarian, there was a rich baker too, some hot married thing, one who cheated on Pusher so the idiot buried the bitch alive and then had Dolores find them after they clawed their way out, and right before you there was this wannabe self-made trustfund kid– Pusher loves you, cherishes you but the moment you stop acting like the character in the movie they made about you… is goodbye. Unlike them you can’t be killed by traditional means.”

He threw the newspaper at his feet.

“You and Pusher?” John asked, the more this snake spoke the more he wanted to see it choke on its own tail.

“God did you hear anything I just said? Ours was complicated… our relationship is more than… yours, but not at the moment. Altho Pusher did leave you this– took a good chunk of the liquid you had and put in an off shore account, made it seem like an everyday transaction for you, the info its in the note app… something about making sure Vought couldn’t fuck you over. It's not all of your fortune but you and the kid won’t need to think about your grandkids working either.``

Homelander took the phone off his hand.

“I’m not like any of those worthless–

“You’re different? You are not– Good luck finding the idiot… sorry about Vought, tho.”

The way Kent’s body thud against the tiles wasn’t as cathartic as he’d hope for– the slow wind flicked the pages of tomorrow morning’s edition of the New York Times, in big bold letters “The Great American Disgrace.” he crook his head as Kent drowned, as his mind processed the missing half of his body and agonized.

Glad that this married asshole was away from his pumpkin, he had spent too much time with you… it didn’t seem right, anyhoo.

He wasn’t like any of those low born mudpeople, he was divinity incarnate, a higher being, you were of the chosen few— so there was no surprise that simpletons did not keep your attention for long– he was better than all those nameless cocksuckers. He was the fucking Homelander but you didn’t answer his calls, this phone who vibrated with a hundred missed connections for some reason had his money, looking around on the device, you also had a few other disturbing things, all of the devices on his name and others close to him were being monitored by you, he ignored it for the moment.

He took the newspaper, seeing a massive photograph of a familiar boy, smaller print in bold highlighted words ‘Operation Patriot and First True American’ the words: inhumane, organized child murders, illegal human experimentations– repeated themselves, but above all… his name… his deadname, the sequence of numbers and placeholders. The entire front page was thousands of letters describing horrific findings… by 7 am the whole country would see this picture of him.

Just a small thing, holding a blue blanket, taken from a security camera, of him alone in a sterile room.

The other images were of his mother sitting alongside two other women, their bellies swollen and their eyes glazed, in drab hospital garbs. Then little kids he had never seen, images of higher quality than those drab 80’s photos.

Homelander sat on Kent’s bench, he had forgetten how to breathe until he was done reading the whole front page did his lungs lived again, flicking to the next one, more images, more names, more women he vaguely remembered, faces, smiles, bodies… names.

Only a few meters from him were a bundle of sleeping children but all he had of his were these grainy images– of little girls with his lips and little boys with his hair, some looked nothing like him until he stared just hard enough to see his chin or ears.

A quiet wail escaped his lips, as he cried into his hand, his eyes flowing endlessly, the more awful words he read, the more Homelander ears rang. Wobbly knees lifted him, catching sight of the illuminated 7, refusing to believe all of this… he wouldn’t crumble… not yet… not until he felt safe.

He had to protect John, that was his purpose but who was there to comfort him.

Now when he wanted to burn it all.

In a large penthouse Stan Edgar laid asleep.

Jumping as he felt the weight of his bed shift, in the dark he saw red, at the edge of the bed, just watching him without breathing, no hiss escaping his lips– just Homelander… or something worse watching at him with the stillness of statues.

Edgar took his glasses, finding this sight just as unsettling, not that he let it show, a part of him expected this visit sooner than later.

Homelander and him stood like this for a very long minute, until his arm creaked handing him the newspaper.

He turned the gold table lamp on his glass side table, his bed a velvety plush thing, and his sheets disgustingly expensive.

Homelander muttered nothing, no sound, no movement, he was more projection than physical entity, for once Edgar’s heart rate did pick up at the sight of him, this was not his petulant child. Homelander watched his demeanor break as more and more of his idiot brain processes the information.

“I won’t let you kill yourself, nor am I going to kill you. I want you to see your empire and your legacy burn in front of you… and when you finally could feel even an ounce of my pain… then I’ll watch you beg me to kill you.” he whispered.

“Homelander…”

“The CIA is outside your door– you won’t be doing an Epstein on me, either.”

“This has nothing to do–

“ Your name over and over… Madelyn’s, Jonah, the other cunts in the labs… you… all of you… on page 3”

He stood up with freakish smoothness, his hidden hand threw two sticky wet masses towards Edgar.

“I used to think Earth looked beautiful in outer space… but… is so ugly… is just too cold out there. too cold for them, too” his lip barely move, cheeks stained with trails and trails of dried tears– who knows where they are now… just drifting away endlessly in the vastness of the Milky Way– too far for me to even catch them again.”

Edgar looked down at the mass.

Two hunks of hair, still attached to their scalps, little specks of melted red ice puddled on his quilt.

“Maybe Zoe will hit Jupiter by the time you die. She cried so much when I took her hair off… Vicky too… so I made them twinsies.” he chuckled– it was so sweet.”

Oh he had always wanted to see him afraid, crying, anything but his usual self, but now he did not care.

The man tried violence only hurting his hands in return, Homelander just walked out the front door as he screamed words that meant nothing.

Not staying to watch when the CIA operatives entered the house.

Aunt Mallory awaited him in the hall.

“I always wanted to see Vought fall. Never thought I would see it… or that you would help us get this done so quickly– even if it was on a threat. But I still couldn’t touch you. The Government would like you to take part in the trial– by tomorrow afternoon all of Vought who was involved in those operations will be arrested and charged with… fuck… everything.”

“Was somebody named Y/N L/N your whistleblower? You seen them?”

He was glad to have seen Kent, otherwise he wouldn’t be watching Mallorys response so closely.

“Can’t tell you that.”

so stupidly easy, she was being smug.

“Can’t tell me where my own fiancee is… or should I go get it out of Butcher? He’s downstairs in the lobby.” He sounded raspy as his throat had given up– I’ll testify on the trial… you know the things they did to me wouldn’t get these people more than a couple years without my testimony. If you tell me and grant me immunity… say you find something else… I’ll give you my all and maybe something you’ve wanted too–

Mallory could cream herself at the fantasy, sensing his desperation and in response his willingness to harm to soothe it, she bit her lip.

“Too good to be true. We don’t really need you for a trial y’know once we identify the families of the women and children–

“I won’t let you touch Ryan.” He said calmly, taking a step closer with red in his eyes– You think the CIA is better than Vought? Either I burn this fucking country to the ground and force you to nuke your cities just to see if you could even scratch me, or you agree– or do you think Soldier Boy will help you, after you put him back in a fridge? I’ll be nice if you like, I’ll even stop compound V production until we can see the outcome of Vought... I won’t hand it to your people or mine– if you hand me the paperwork saying I’m just a poor little meow-meow.”

He spoke so softly even his cursing didn’t sound hateful, in this tranquil tone Mallory froze, his hand lifting her chin slighty forcing her to met the bluest eyes she’ve ever seen, to see this calm sea holding back a biblical flood.

“We can be civil. You got my word.” She bit her tongue– how come you haven’t yet.”

“That’ll depends solely on you.”

“This Whistleblower left before Butcher delivered me the files. Don’t think he would know.”

“Useless.” he grumbled– "I want to see that bastard in jail first, anyhoo.”

Homelander headed to the elevator, his mind trying to hold the avalanche that was John inside of him, to hold himself until he could find a place to scream.

William sat on a couch by the opulent lobby of the apartment complex, finding something comforting in seeing him... now it bothered him too much but Homelander ignored it, already on edge, one wrong word and he would collapse.

“When was the last time you spoke with Y/N?” John said.

“Why the fuck woul’ I tell you?”

“William. I’m afraid my Pusher lied to you… whatever was said about me is not true, it was just a ruse to get you to do the dirty work.”

Dead, cheating or running away. Homelander would play the one that hurt him the least and the most, he needed to see you, to understand what you’ve done.

“Those bruises looked fuckin’ real to me, mate.”

“Pusher is a Supe– A Telepath probably told you what you wanted to hear to get you to do as told. I just want my fiance back… I… I can’t do this alone…” His expression softened and his eyes stung– did it make you happy? To see those videos? To see my kids die before I knew their names? I haven’t even seen them, just what was said on the papers and Mallory told me.”

“Don’t. You don’t wan’ to see it, mate. I Hate you. I fuckin’ hate you but… your kids… they were gonna do that to Ryan. They was gonna make my Becca into a monster! All she did to protect that little boy just to end up killing him! My Becca wouldn’t have lived with herself… none of those kids and their mothers deserved that.”

Butcher spoke, his voice did nothing to hide the pain he felt over what almost had awaited Becca, the pain and guilt he felt as he once considered handling that kid back to Vought to rescue her back then, Becca would’ve killed herself from grief if not by her own hands if she was still here and saw those videos.

Homelander sat beside him, he had died once tonight, he could do it again, Butcher shaken as he sat on top of his flag that he almost seemed so careful with before.

“I need to see them. William… please… I need to know… maybe it’ll make you happy to see me reacting to it.”

He looked so frail next to Butcher, whomever this was they did not recognize him.

“If Pusher won’t be there for me– can I have you instead? After all, we had something different.”

It made him uncomfortable to hear him say that, whoever this man was... was just a wounded stranger, sitting too close, their knees touching, Homelander seeking for any relief and Butcher feeling his skin crawl.

“It won’t make me happy. I’m not sick like you” He took a cigarette out offering Homelander one the man considered for a strange second or two– After this what are you gonna do?”

“I think I’ll move to the mediterranean with Ryan, the two cats and maybe… maybe two more people… Mallorca… or Valletta… You can visit Ryan if you like… before that golf ball in your brain kills you. You should see the beachest down there… so pretty– but after I find my pumpkin.”

He lit the cigarette on Butcher’s lip, this was it. The end. It sucked for them both.

They shared a sorry laugh, Butcher picturing the blonde in tacky Hawaiian shirts and a burnt tan screaming ‘Expat’ he just didn’t seem like the type to pull it off, unlike himself.

“I’ve been to Greece on my honeymoon…it wont be pretty not with you in it. I’ve called your fiance early, that we had met all their demands. They came soon after and dropped the passwords, then asked my Frenchie for tips to deal with a supe. They fashioned some stuff for a bit then your Pusher left around four.”

“What Supe?”

“Firecracker.”

He scoffed.

You had forgiven John but never did you say anything about her, he stayed with Butcher even after Edgar was dragged in front of them, following him to his office to watch the videos that even his worst enemy didn’t want him to see.

The longer he watched the less he wanted to see, he had left Butcher’s office by dawn.

Butcher feeling not victorious as he watched them, the happy recordings of kids being kids, of kids trying to make their mothers happy, until the tears began, until the blood, and the screams, until they became silence.

He opened the front door for the authorities heading a private tour to appear extra cooperative... the company was a mess, a beehive disturbed by ravenous wasps.

An emergency meeting was called and the news were talking non-stop of him, of the others could’ve been Homelanders, of his mother and their mothers. His aunt was already victim to guerilla interviews unable to understand what’ve happened, the stocks were below red, and their competitors were just waiting to start eating their hot juicy remains.

“We will cease all production on V. until further notice… but honestly I’ll just take my severance package, and let you guys take care of this.” His voice soft– This is over. All of it. No point in crying about it– it ain’t you guys who ought to be crying.``

Ashley whimpered regardless.

“Sir… I would’ve never authorized this–

“You are too weak to do these things. You've been a good girl Ashley… the least I can do is make sure you’re taken care of, I’ve put in a good word that you had nothing to do with this– after all this is before our time” He turned to the others in the boardroom– them on the other hand. After all of you get arrested I’m going to kill everybody you love and feed them to my cats… maybe not tomorrow, or next week– but I will… I’ll fucking let your dogs rape your wifes and send you the videos and maybe send them to your kids.” he chortled– All of you can go fuck yourselves. Now me and Ashley are going to get out, and none of you better make a peep.”

It was quite the scene.

“Ten million should be enough to live comfortably for you, right? Or is that like a lowball amount? With inflation is hard to tell.”

“Excuse me?”

“I won’t hurt you Ashley because Ryan likes you. And your name did not appear anywhere…” he petted her head mockingly– you and I are done… but you’ll have to sign an NDA about the things you covered for me, your last job for me is for you to testify in the trial.”

“Are you doing alright, sir?” She was too shocked to ask anything else– I…”

“No.”

“Hmm… sir, I wanted to tell you before the meeting that Firecracker has been missing since this morning. And one of the guys from Analytics gave me this… address. Said you had requested it but you never answered your phone this morning.”

His mouth crook upwards.

“She left her phone at home. We already had a team out looking for her… is she our whistleblower?”

“Did she have any friends? Any brunettes with freckles and a big ass?”

That rang bells for an odd reason, a girl she had seen hovering around her during recordings.

“Yes…? I think her old editor.”

“Get me her address, I’m going to go deal with them”

There you were again in a ditch, your face gone, Firecracker nowhere to be seen.

Mallory and some other high ranking investigators stood watching closely overseeing the arrests. Their suits filling the halls.

“That one had nothing to do with it.” his thumb pointing at Ashley.

“Any more requests, your highness?”

“Not going to give you the formula for Compound V.”

“Vought and you caped bastards going away sounds like a dream to me… but you kept your word… I kept mine, you will be granted complete immunity even if we aren’t investigating but the crimes against you. We are pinning all of this on the old guard.”

“Enjoy it.” Before he left he turned around– thanks to you the whole country gets to live another day.”

Butcher stroked his temples.

“And he is going to get away with it!? All of it!?” Starlight protested, the rest of the gang sharing her sentiment– Butcher!?

“Is out of my hands. The fuckin’ ‘ead of Homeland Security, the CIA and the president rather he retires to fucking Madeira than risk a nuclear apocalypse! They haven't even begun to unravel Soldier Boy’s abilities, and the Russian’s ain’t helping– you think I want this!?”

“So what are we gonna do?”

“Nuthin’ we won. Besides… Y/N might be a serial killer…” Starlight and company urged him to continue– couple years ago some writer and their friend were found killed… nobody could describe this Beck Nevere partner, as if they never existed, not their age, gender, color nor height, they knew Beck had a partner– both the victims social media accounts were clinically scrubbed… talking black-ops level completely fucking clean. They suspected a Supe was behind it but it led nowhere. There were another couple corpses here and there with similar lack of witness accounts. Only one gave a vague description and a name... Pusher.``

Hughie pulled up the sketch composite that Butcher was referring to, it wasn’t perfect and some of the details were wrong but there was a familiarity to the image.

“This cunt went here to ‘elp us get rid of Vought. Maybe they’ll get rid of him too.” he thought of that name the cunt had dropped– He called them ‘Pusher’ I bet if we dig far enough we could find about this bastard.”

He thought of Homelander sitting on that leather couch, wondering who was after who.

As he sat in the archives a metal box opened and its contents carefully placed around him, Homelander would cry alone, at pictures of close strangers, the sound of voices he would never hear down his halls, all the families he could’ve had, all the first he could’ve witnessed, John could had been given all that made him weak, all that would render him needless, but all he had wanted, all their stolen timelines… You had given him a mother… had you tried to bare him children but found this graveyard.. leaving you more frail than wet paper... did you shattered? Afraid he would kill you for this after his mother’s fiasco? Had he finally managed to scare you?

Two men awaited to take some for evidence, but gave him space until he was ready.

By the end of the day, the internet was losing its mind, even his biggest detractors and haters had nothing negative to say about him, before the day ended the whole world saw Homelander as a victim, a man brainwashed, a survivor.

Theories that the entire internal coup that saw Edgar fall from grace were nothing but a machiavellian plot to take over the company that had caused him so much harm-- it was to be the next best biopic, studios already preparing for the upcoming bidding wars, and publisher eager to jump at him with publishing offers for his biography, it would sell out day 1 if it happened, News channels and celebrities already competing to see if they could get him to sit down for the first exclusive interview.

Some still hated him– but as of the first 24 hrs the public was sympathetic. It would become the popular opinion to not hate him, those who did would be silenced, and eventually it would be taboo to voice it openly, or at all.

His strange quirks and violent outburst now blamed on complex PTSD and trauma, he wasn’t hated nor ridiculed to his surprise, while much of the facts had been sanitized, much of the details to be saved for the trial or for government eyes only– enough was out to paint a horrific image; CNN to Joe Rogan had been given a couple of heavily censored clips, graphic enough that its content was undeniable. The families of the mothers, and his ex-lovers already being identified, the missing women had been given potential and confirmed names in massive reddit and 4chan efforts, faster than the FBI had even if there was plenty of misinformation drowning the main feeds.

He had checked Firecracker’s friend apartment finding nothing, no struggle, or signs of it that’ve been cleaned, her keys missing but her wallet and phone left behind.

A couple of cigarettes left behind, no lipstick marks left on the buds, Firecracker wasn’t a smoker, he grinned.

He could scan the whole city and eventually find you, but it came to him.

A number he didn’t recognize appeared on his screen.

“Found your bitch, aye.”

Seems Butcher wanted some payback, he was better at this than Homelander after all.

“Love you too. How you get my number?”

The other man was silent at the other end of the line, watching the building you were holed up.

“Your bitch used me. Painted you as some victim to be pitied. Made you get away with all the bullshit you’ve done– I want front row seats to the funeral… found some of your bitch past achievements– gnarly little things.”

“You and me both.” He was to let you explain, to tell him everything before he made a decision on you– thanks.”

“This one is good– but I am better. Gather your team is a bit short of funds and all, just so you know I’m gonna get ev’n.”

He hanged, seconds after Homelander received a text message.

Homelander flew, finding you wet, naked and tired.

You looked more beautiful than ever before, as you throw your back with each swung of a modified machete, sweating profusely as you bathed in her life, your shoulders burn and you hair clump around your temples... you looked breathtaking.

His ire fading as the sight of you assuaged him, the thought of your arms holding him tenderly... the only place he could cry, of your lips telling him all the things nobody had meant and internet voices were too impersonal to mean much for him, left alone for days, worried sick you’ve been hurt by Firecracker and left dead on some dumpsters, you were safe, you could explain yourself, he could grant you one chance to explain yourself.

You did look so beautiful.

But you were here, breathing, thinking of him still.

They would just be a little upset still.

But you could explain it all... maybe it had been a misunderstanding... maybe you didn't meant it.

And then here you two were.

Dawn fast approaching, the cool breeze rustling your hair.

“Why did you ran away?”

“Killing Firecracker was harder than I anticipated. The fugu only paralyzed her… had to get creative with the saws… took me a whole day to find the right blade. Not to mention I had to kill the friend first. I was so tired I overslept quite a bit. I only caught up until you showed up.” You admitted– I kidnapped her friend, drew her to that safe house, and then you showed up.”

Her heart beat honest, it shocked John.

“I did have to find out a few things about you from Butcher, Kent, my team… you’re certainly a character. So why did you kill your exes?”

You looked away, embarrassed and ashamed to say this outloud, not wanting to talk about past lovers.

“They couldn’t handle my devotion.” Your voice is gentle yet pained– Too intense for them. I suffocated them and made them feel isolated.” trembling lightly you looked up at him– I loved them too much but they couldn’t muster to return an ounce of what I gave them. They didn’t want me anymore. Didn’t want to give me my refund. They weren't my true love.'

“So you didn’t get bored?”

“All I wanted was to be loved like I always dreamed to be loved. They got bored of me… they hated me… they couldn’t stand me.” Your eyes watered– But you returned my love, so equally.”

He strokes your hair, tucking it behind your ears.

“You won’t fall out of love with me… even after you erase my memories?” John asked.

“Is nice that you think I can do that– you need it for the trial. Or you meant later?”

“Maybe I want you to kill me instead of killing you, and leave my brother in charge.”

You dropped an imaginary plate, all air squeezed out your lungs, your nails digging on his arms.

“No!! I would not!!” You shouted– Absolutely not!!”

“You did all of this to have me all for you, but maybe I don’t want to be all yours. My brother likes you… he only came back for you, he ignored me for you. You love him, not me. Nobody loves me, I’ll cheat on you again– you can’t win me over not after what you did! I have nothing! Vought! Privacy! This fucking suit!!!”

He whispered words laced with anger and pain.

“Then I will kill the next one, and the one after and the one after that one. Fuck I’ll kill the bitch you stared for more than five seconds at the coffee shop queue if I must. As long as you come back to me John is alright… is you, him and me.”

He whimpered, stifling a tear, the way you spoke so softly, your deliverance continuously painfully honest, hard to reconcile your merciless nature with this one who saw him as their everything, genuinely meant it, who saw him as frail and began to cried at the thought of euthanasia.

“I won’t stop until I consume every ounce of doubt you have.” You mumble– I’ll never ever let you leave. I’ll put you in a glass cage if I have to” you stroke his cheek, clinging to him, a strange white swirl floated in your eyes– All I did was to protect you and us. That man– Butcher… was going to destroy you! I was lucky I gave him those files and made sure no matter what– the whole world would never think of you as evil, thanks to me. I got rid of her because I’m yours… so you didn’t need her… you own me.” Your kisses are so soft on his neck, turning him into glass replacing the old marble– I want to crawl inside you to feel your warmth for your touch is not enough. I would consume you if I could and fill my guts 'till it burst, so you might nourish all of me. Just to be closer to you.”

Homelander mouth dried, your words clawing at his throat, his hand glued to you feeling his body swirl as you pulled his face closer, gasping with every fond stroke of your lips and palms, the red flickering the more you spoke and his heart thumped, as he struggled to breathe, you sucked it out his system.

Your pretty eyes so white.

–You could have me forever and tuck me in the closet until you need me, and I would be fine with it– I’ll be there for you… ‘cuz I love you and you’re very special to me John, so I’ll just make you come back to me– both of you.” You cried, kissing him more intensely, sussurating into his lungs– I prayed and prayed to all gods for traces of you. I gave up hope… but you found me instead.” you kissed him more, and more, bleeding into his tongue. Harking back at the first moment you met, the moment you heard them both, and your eyes met, that first shared heartbeat– Even my ghost won’t leave you. I promise. Now that the gods have brought us together I won’t let go” you sobbed clinging on to him, that pale light brighter– I was born for you.”

There is a perturbing and enthralling manicness to you, your voice will forever haunt him as it spoke so sweetly, your kisses branding him with iron, you were pulling him closer, swallowing him– it frightens him how unbashedly you yearned for him.

You were a scary thing.

A monster.

His other half.

He let himself be saved in your arms, his legs giving up, pushing you both into the hard ground.

Your declaration makes his wounded heart thump more alive than it had ever been in forty years.

It wouldn’t heal him, it wouldn’t fix anything, it wouldn’t earn you forgiveness.

But Homelander and John needed this. Always had. Both had seeked this.

He had wanted something awful it seems.

That god would make somebody just for him.

Who had felt the same suffocating loneliness.

And emerged just as awry.

Who would cling to him shamelessly, like he had yearned since the moment he learned he was born from nothing.

Who for forty years had clung to sweet nothing in search for anything, any crumb of something to fill the abyss.

You here wanted to fill his abyss with your own tragedy.

Every sulken glance, every smile, every tear and every kiss… forcibly if you had to.

He needed to be cuddled and held, laughing maniacally as nothing made sense anymore, he cackled in between hoarse sobs, you kissed him, cradling him and swaying him, kissing his tears as he clung to you.

Looking up, a dying lamp vaguely illuminated above you two, a flickering halo framed you, you watched him with fervor, your lips lifted into a pained smile, holding him as if the mere thought of him touching the ground was killing you, your heart screaming so loudly.

Oh there it was… he thought, in the depth of all that was you. He finally really saw what his brother saw– Stormfront didn’t look at him like this… not close, not remotely the same.

You were the comfort of the familiar pain.

In the white ouroboros.

You were the Bad Room made flesh.

He was born there… he would die there…

He was inside that room, city skylines and rusted metal replaced by thick white cement walls, the flickering ligths replaced by cool white halogen.

He was born to keep John alive but John never knew how to be without him.

So he continued to be unsure of where to be.

Until you…

In your muddy disguise, without a hint of sanctity, you who appeared so boorish– you were the white walls that’ve birthed him, still chasing after him, a tulpa or demon from within that place.

What were you?

“Don’t be silly. If I was a demon I would’ve joined William’s side. Or tell you not to do the Oprah interview”

Glimpsin into that uneasy white swirl illuminating pupils, he thought.

Frozen inside this silent room, the buzzing of the air con drilling into his ear.

If his brother had taken the reins before, ran for days and nights, if he had agreed to lie about you before, if all John knew now was on your words– had you forgotten to tell him something?

What had you two kept to yourselves?

What had you two done while he wasn’t around? What had you shared for his love to infect him? For you to become like this? In his fracture memory he couldn’t reach the answer easily.

You kissed him as he watched the white swirl fade away like a slithering worm taking that unnatural light away from your irises.

With it the world returned.

He squeezed your hand, trying to calm down the oppressive weight in his chest– Oprah… he had already been offered ten million for exclusive first dibs, he could think of that instead of the unknown, as you pressed him against your chest, he could just let you two care for him as you had promise, let him just get the bliss and the fortune.

“Should I?”

“Well we gotta make sure the public thinks you’re a good boy… and if you want to keep killing we got each other... it will be much more fun if we gotta be sneaky about it. Also is Oprah, baby!”

“She’s so lovely, pumpkin.”

It was too much… how can one man, god or not– handle the last few hours, it was too much, accepting defeat, he could kill you but solve nothing, now he needed your powers.

He had said, himself… now he was a god made whole.

You held him until even his back grew sore.

He thought of waves, of never ending waves, and golden stone, of the cawing of sea birds and the heat on his back.

“You want to move there?”

“It's far away..."

You pulled him closer, as his head rested perfectly against your chest, kissing his forehead over and over until his toothy smile returned.

“You’ll be there to make everything okay… you'll make it okay.”

“I’ll take care of us forever.” your hand holding his cheek– I was put on this earth to care for you.”

To be held was all he ever wanted.

If his brother could hold him… this is how he imagine he would.

He felt the candor of your love, hotter than his own inhuman heat, he knew these frail chains made of bone and glass will not break, he held your collar and you held his chains.

Both visciously clutching on those chains.

Tangling himself further into the uncertainty, but he didn't fear it, he craved it.

Bleeding into his mouth.

Offering your fealty.

Whatever was to happen, whether the world would be blessed with rebirth or survive another decade, hanged on you.

#homelander #my fic tag #can we be lonely together?#the boys #Homelander x reader #Homelander x you #Homelander fanfiction #I'm ESL sorry about my grammar #homelander x supe! reader #will see if i can do a masterlist with all the chapters after I post the epilogue this wk.#personal #bit heavy on the YOU reference #this was after all a Joe Goldberg X Homelander fic #not that it changes it being a reader fic now hehe

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toxicanonymity · 11 months

Note

Are you still working through requests of are you pretty much caught up on them?

Far, far from caught up. I'm fortunate and very grateful to have such a large, highly-engaged community here. I don't think there's ever going to be a "caught up" state for this blog since each answer begets more asks, which is amazing. The link below from my header addresses why I don't plan on closing my ask box to catch up. I appreciate y'all understanding and rolling with how I do things kinda differently.

About requests

Basically I float around in a growing pool of our combined ideas and kinda do what flows. I think that provides the most bang for our buck in terms of effort/time to quality/output. This can look a lot of different ways, examples:

Lazaretto - The sex pollen ask was from late March and I liked the concept but started to think the moment might never strike until I got inspired by jack white's song a few wks ago.

Tommy's hard day (MFM) - I had tommy x reader x Joel asks since early April and finally did one last wk based on continued popular demand.

Aches - I think this ask was just submitted a day or two before I wrote it, same with the original free use and the ask that led to stepdad!Joel. I was in a good headspace for those despite having older ones in my box.

Movie night - I think I wrote movie night like same day bc it went so well with my thots at the time.

grisly details below

When I say far from it, I mean triple digits, bearing in mind some are similar and many are joelkemon-specific (50+ between night walks and raider?). Sometimes those don't fit the current storyline/direction or not yet. For example, stepdad sleeping with your mom (see post mortem below lol), pregnancy scare with stepdad, or night walks being a peeping tom again. But I hang onto those for future consideration (the Tim Rockford murder board is real).

Since there are so many in this bucket I tried answering a couple of them as "hypotheticals" and ended up with like 10-15 asks over the next couple of days reading those as canon lol (affectionate - LOVE the enthusiasm, curiosity, and ideas). This would be easy to roll with if it was a small detail instead of whether they're even on speaking terms, or if I hadn't already started the next parts of the story and could just "skip ahead," but I did that to myself. Anyway funny thing is I would have gotten there (/will get there) just not yet at the time so it kind of reinforces my mindset of not wanting to sacrifice quality/flow to catch up.

I'm really grateful to everyone who shares ideas and asks, y'all really make this blog (I think y'all know that though).

That being said, I am due for an inbox clean-up and may need to pass on certain general ones (not Joelkemon specific). Idk if it would be a faux pas but I could possibly see if other writers want to do certain ones i can't (ex: stuff I'm not familiar with like A/B/O).

#ask #toxicanonymity writer's room

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wonusite · 1 year

Note

Just read a lot of your answers to nsfw asks and i think i found the perfect place to share my "Xu Minghao please fuck me like you havent meditaded for a year" thoughts

Btw i love your and your followers' feral energy over svt men cuz like same lol

Back to Minghao cuz he is fine asf and (please excuse my supernatural ass) vampire Minghao would fuck his s/o so good.

I can picture him being an extremly old, rich, powerfull vampire, he would be one of the last noble vampires from the original clans and he would search for his soulmate every millennium. There was a curse that said you two will not be able to get together until ten thousand years pass and he had to find you in every one of your lifes to prove the gods that he was worthy of your love.

And you had to prove that you would love him in every one of your lifes to show that you were too, worthy his love.

And this is your final battle, after he marries you in this life you will stop reincarnating and become immortal just like your lover.

But, of cours there is a but, you are already married. To his enemy. And the arrangment says you are not allowed to divorce each other, not until one of you dies or you have a kid and raise him until they are of age.

Minghao doesnt want to wait until one of you dies or watch you raise a kid with his enemy (who made up all of this arranged marriage bullshit to make him unsuccessful in his duty) so he kills him with the help of one of the most powerfull magic users, Wen Junhui. Who is also a close friend of yours from the start, not to mention he always helped him find your trace.

After getting a call from Junhui about how his enemy is tied up with chains that are unbreakable and ready to get killed. He approchs you and the second your eyes tear up he knows you remember it all, just like in your previous lifes. (Actually i was planning on making you unable to remember but then this would get even longer, didnt wanna bother you too much)

He kisses you just like this is your first and last kiss, like he havent kissed you for thousands of years and he wont be able to kiss you again. When he lays you down on the bed you had share with his enemy he makes sure the phone is neatly put on the nightstand because he wants to make sure that excuse of a man hears your every noise.

He is as gentle as you remember him to be, he hasnt changed a bit, the only difference is now he is even more in love with you. He slowly undresses you while you whimper and trash under just from little touches of his fingertips on your burning skin. It has been so long since you last made love...

This was longer than i planed it to be and i will not read it again to fix the mistakes i made cuz i feel like i will lose all my courage to send this to you.

Anyways i hope you liked it, please accept me to your seventeen brainrot comunity 🥺

Also i remember i said something about him fucking his s/o so good but there is no fucking included in this ask so yeah

Btw i loved your dilf cheol fic, i didnt know i needed it until i read it and know i cant stop thinking about him rearranging my guts, thank you for that

*takes a deep breath*

OH. MY. FUCKING. GODDDDDDD. STOP EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS WAS SO GOOD FR.

vampire!hao + reincarnation + soulmates + an old curse????? sign me tf up. just imagining the pining and the yearning has me 😮‍💨

ok but just picture him sliding into ur awaiting cunt and ur body just reacts to him so naturally bc it also recognizes him. you’re so vocal and hao feels like he can die happy at that moment. you two make love all night, not wanting to separate since it’s been so long that you two were in each other’s arms.

and plsss this was so good i love it vv much fr. ur always welcome to send me asks bc i love getting them omfg.

AND STOP OFC U CAN BE AN OFFICIAL WONUSITE THOT SO HAPPY YOU WANT TO BE INDUCTED OMFGGGG 🥹🫰🏼

#so glad u liked dilf cheol btw #welcome to the wonusite thots #so happy to have you #ask #yandere-stories #nalani.thotz

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thegeminisage · 2 months

Text

iiiit's tng update time. last night we watched "a fistful of datas" and "the quality of life."

a fistful of datas:

i wanted to like this episode because it had data in the title but i Hate holodeck episodes. like clockwork, someone goes into the holodeck and it breaks. i understand they're doing this to give us "real" stakes but all it does is cement my belief that the holodeck is not only unethical but DANGEROUS.

however, i did love getting to see data's cat. and a reference to his poetry. actually i'm surprise riker recognized it since he fell ASLEEP during the reading >:(

deanna western outfit HOT. i didn't like the smoking part but every time she cocked a shotgun i had hearts in my eyes

deanna/worf rights??? tenderly bandaging his wound...rescuing his son with him...FLIRTING WITH HIM...we were missing riker but STILL deanna e worf e riker. it can happen. i can make it real with the power of my mind.

i don't remember what exactly the dialogue was but data's accent was VERY good. i understand there are difference between a southern and a western accent that may be too subtle to catch unless you've spent a long time listening to both, but they DO sound similar, and he remembered to drop the front of whatever word he said which came after the word "i." like bones in this side of paradise: "wanna see how fast i'an put you in the hospital?" most people faking a southern accent don't remember to do that (love and light to lucy gray). anyway, it might have been "i'm going to..." that sounds right. in a southern accent this becomes something that sounds like, "i'm on..." which is changing "going to" to "gon" and then dropping the first half of the word entirely when it comes after "i'm." elliot spencer also does this, which i appreciate.

anyway this is only the second time i've seen hints of worf not being the Worlds Best Dad (the first time was in that AWFUL lwaxana episode) but given that the holodeck went SO wrong can anyone really blame him for being reluctant to go...like yes he should have sucked it up and gone anyway or suggested an alternate activity instead of trying to wiggle out of it but i DO understand.

as a final note, the first scene with picard getting interrupted during his flute-playing (hi, flute!) like 1000 times is just yet more examples of no work-life boundary aboard this ship...you're always on call even during your personal time...no such thing as a do not disturb sign on the door...

quality of life:

this one was...okay?? like, none of the science experiments made ANY sense, it was bad science, but whatever, we got to watch data be data.

star of the show: the little guys, and their wiggles. like they're kinda cute.

this lady scientist looks SO familiar and i cannot figure out why. i don't recognize anything on her imdb page. i think i must be getting her mixed up with one of the ds9 ladies i've seen in gifs. we give star wars shit and justifiably so but they also have a lot of pale alien brunettes on that show. okay i just looked up jadzia i think i thot she was jadzia LMAO love 2 be faceblind

i didn't like everybody doubting data when he said those little guys WERE alive. but i did like him saying he had intuition with other machines the way he didn't with biological life forms. that's a neat piece of worldbuilding. also, i don't want him to be alone in the universe either :'(

i didn't like how one of them died in the end after all data did trying to save them!!! we should have had a little scene where it got fixed up!!!!!!!!

that said, what's proof of sentience like self-sacrifice for another...actually, no, that's bad science too. but they're good little life-saving guys!!! and they wiggle.

TONIGHT: chain of command, parts i & ii. these are the LAAAST tng eps we watch before starting ds9 (we are doing it in release order, so we will soon be watching two shows concurrently).

#personal #star trek blogging #tng lb

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roxy206 · 5 months

Note

I agreed with a lot of what you said with regards to the topics of kids and marriage and I think the flip flopping is the point. T doesn’t know what she wants and is trying to figure it out.

I don’t know if you’ve heard but not all of the live pods are being recorded because they want it to be a special experience each night for the fans who have paid. The Minneapolis pod definitely wasn’t recorded and it’s unconfirmed if the Montreal one was or not.

It was in Montreal where she mentioned wanting a daughter after being asked if she’d prefer a gay son or thot daughter. She said daughter to follow in her footsteps and said something about how she’s been thinking about having kids. K responded that if T had a kid they wouldn’t be friends anymore lol. I don’t think she’s kidding. Mixed reports on how much she actually went into the subject but this is all stuff she’s said before. She changes her mind on the topic of children almost daily it feels like.

Then it was in Minneapolis where she referred to to her man as husband and apparently people freaked out and she corrected “Sorry not husband. Gay husband. He just lives in my house” so there’s that. T also alluded to “knowing what it was like to have a husband” in her sims ad filmed during stagecoach. I think she tries on different labels. About a year or two ago I noticed she started saying “partner” when in more professional settings and while talking about projects but then will still use “boyfriend” quite regularly when things are more off the cuff and relaxed. Most recently in the better help pod ads as well as the last iltw she was still saying “boyfriend”. This is all to say sometimes people try on different labels to see how they feel.

I feel like there is a lot of pressure, especially in your 30’s, to “figure things out” and T herself will talk about how fame and fortune don’t necessarily bring happiness. I think we can revert to societal pressures and stereotypes in an attempt to see if marriage and children really will bring happiness. The thing is, if you don’t solve the problems you have with yourself and your relationship, then marriage and children certainly won’t help anything and will only exacerbate those issues. I just hope T can one day take the time to figure out what will really make her happy.

This is also from August 😭

Thank you for filling me in on the live pod stuff!

And yes for sure, I think as much as T talks about how different things are being gay & in a relationship, there’s still this pressure. Between age, the length of a relationship, siblings having kids, etc etc etc

I hope she figures it out too, whatever that looks like!

#kimmy answers #oh honeyyyyy

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kanerallels · 2 years

Text

Holding Hands With Your Heart

For Kanera Week day four: "On a mission." Set in a canon compliant universe, pre-SWR. Dedicated to @accidental-spice, who gave me the idea for this story!!

Rating/Warnings: T (canon typical injury, some description of blood, and someone kinda gets a knife thrown at them but don't worry they're fine)

Taglist: @accidental-spice @laughingphoenixleader @heckin-music-dork @auroramagpie @opalknight @firefoxtessa @day-to-day-thots @kaneraweek

Read on AO3!!

Hera wasn’t much a fan of undercover missions. She understood the need for them, of course. Sometimes meeting a contact in public was too dangerous, for either of them, without changing their looks. Especially this time— their contact had just escaped an Imperial prison near Bakura, and was hiding out while the authorities looked for him. Hera just hoped the information he was promising was accurate.

But more often than not she ended up wearing a dress, and worse yet, heels. Neither of which were very practical for potential escapes or shootouts.

None of this seemed to deter her altogether too enthusiastic companion.

“Looks like that’s our stop,” Kanan observed from the passenger seat of the speeder. Shooting her a grin, he said, “Ready to be married to me for the next twenty minutes?”

Rolling her eyes, Hera dead-panned, “I can hardly wait. Try not to go too over the top, dear.”

“Who, me?” Kanan gave her a look of mock injury as they pulled into a vacant lot, at the back of a large brick building. “I would never.”

“Uh-huh,” Hera said, still not totally convinced. Kanan had joined her crew almost two years ago now, and while the more serious flirting had stopped, he still liked teasing her. And while Hera wouldn’t admit it to his face, she liked matching wits with him.

Now, however, she was not in the mood for it. Switching off the speeder, she glanced at Kanan. “Okay, we’re looking for a human with reddish hair, pale skin, and a scar on his forehead. If he sees us first, he’ll head to the bar to order something, and I’ll make contact. Otherwise, I approach him first, but until then, we just mingle and hope for the best.”

“Sounds good,” Kanan said, hopping out of the speeder. As Hera got to her feet, he hurried around to her side and offered her a hand. “Shall we?”

“I feel like I should protest,” Hera said, “but honestly I’m not totally sure I’m not going to break my neck in these heels. And while that might get me out of this, it’s really not worth it.”

Kanan chuckled as he helped her out of the speeder. “You’re really not looking forward to this, are you?”

“Looking forward to being ogled for the rest of the night by drunk idiots? No, I am not,” Hera said, and Kanan grimaced.

“I can’t argue with that. Tell you what— if it gets too bad, wink at me twice and I’ll punch someone out or shoot them or something.”

Hera snorted with amusement. “I’ll keep that in mind. But that’s another thing— I can’t carry a blaster. I don’t like being unarmed.”

“Are you telling me you don’t have that knife I saw you use last week on you somewhere?” Kanan asked, lifting a skeptical eyebrow at her. “Because I find that hard to believe.”

Hera couldn’t hold back a wry smile at that. “You’ve got a point there, dear. Still, I prefer an outfit that goes better with a blaster than this.”

She wouldn’t exactly say she disliked the dress in question— it was far more tasteful than some of the others she’d found when they’d gone shopping. The simple sleeveless design appealed to her, as did the skirt that hit just below her knees, for both modesty and mobility’s sake. The color scheme was black and white, with the lower half of the skirt a filmy black, studded with sparkling beads, and the upper half a solid white. A swirling pattern, like waves or vines, swirled across the left half of the dress.

It was beautiful. But it was also eye-catching and showed more skin that she liked, strictly speaking, and there wasn’t anywhere practical to hide a blaster. So Hera had to make do with a knife and the hope that there weren’t too many people who’d be staring at her in there.

Thankfully, Kanan’s suit coat covered his blaster perfectly, so they weren’t totally unarmed. His outfit still bordered on casual— a suit jacket over a crisp white shirt, black slacks, and black shoes— but it was still strange to see him in formal wear. Which, Hera was loath to admit, he looked really good in.

If she told him that, he would be insufferable, so she wasn’t saying anything.

“I get it,” Kanan told her, bringing her mind back to the present. “It’s tough to be somewhere without anything to protect yourself— and I know it’s different, but I don’t love people staring at me, either. But we’ll get through this fast, maybe have a few drinks and something to eat, and save the day. Deal?”

“Deal,” Hera relented, looping her arm through his. “Let’s go.”

The night club they were infiltrating, Club Paraxo D’Prata, was invitation only. Despite several bribes, one instance of Kanan getting a Rodian very drunk, and a visit with a forger, they hadn’t been able to get any. So they went with an old standby, which Kanan liked to call “fake it til you make it.”

They headed up to the front, Kanan’s arm around Hera’s waist, the two of them laughing as they half-walked, half-stumbled their way up to the door, where two bouncers were waiting for them.

“Hi, there,” Kanan said, offering the duo— a bored looking human man and a muscular Devaronian, both well armed— a charming grin. “Sorry to bother you, but my companion and I are meeting some other friends inside. Any chance you can let us in?”

“Invitations?” the human droned, looking if possible, more bored.

Giving him a rueful grimace, Kanan said, “About that. I stepped inside earlier for a drink, and left my invitations inside, in my other jacket. If you’d just let me step into the entryway—”

“No entry without an invitation,” the human said, his boredom beginning to give way to irritation.

“We are so sorry,” Hera said quickly, making sure her voice held her natural Ryl accent. She gave the pair a smile. “We did mean to keep them with us, but we forgot. And Kerron did promise to buy me a drink here, didn’t you, love?” Lacing her fingers around his, she gave him an affectionate smile that was less forced than she’d expected it to be.

She felt him stiffen slightly, but his smile didn’t falter. “Surely you can understand, gentlemen,” he said. “I owe the lady a debt.”

The man started to respond, but the Devaronian spoke first, his tone gravelly. “I didn’t see you two come in earlier.”

“Oh,” Kanan said, glancing at Hera. “Um…”

“Plan B,” she muttered under her breath.

“Got it.” Turning to the bouncers, Kanan waved a hand, and Hera could swear she felt something thrum in the air. “You want to let us inside.”

The man’s eyes glazed over, his face going blank. “I… want to let you inside,” he said, the Devaronian echoing him seconds later.

“If you say so, sir,” Kanan said cheerfully. “Come on, Layda.”

Together, he and Hera slipped past the guards and made their way into the club together.

The inside of the club was dimly lit in blue, the walls made of rough bricks. Tables lined the corners of the room, with a bar on the right side and a stage in the very center, where a band was performing. Beings were clustered throughout the room, dancing or talking or sitting at the bar.

Not one of them seemed to take any notice of Kanan and Hera as they slipped inside. “Thanks for the save,” Hera murmured to him.

“Not a problem,” Kanan responded quietly, leading the way to the bar. They both took seats at the less populated end, Hera instinctively scanning for threats as they did so.

“Looks like we’ve got a group carrying blasters,” she said, nodding at a pack of black clad beings, standing around a Togruta wearing a white suit and more jewelry than Hera had ever seen on a person. Even his lekku had gold rings around them. “Some kind of crime lord, maybe?”

“Either way, we don’t want to tangle with him,” Kanan replied wryly, waving to the bartender. As the Rodian headed their way, he added, “Off duty Imperials, over by the stage. Next to that fake plant.”

Hera followed his discreet gesture to where two men were chatting up a duo of Twi’leks. “Military haircuts, and they stand like they’re Imperial,” Kanan said as the bartender arrived. Turning towards him, he said, “I’ll have a glass of Corellian whiskey.”

“And for the lady?” the Rodian asked, turning to her.

“If you could mix me a mocktail with something meiloorun, that would be lovely,” Hera said, offering him a smile.

“Right away, ma’am. Sir.”

As he retreated, Kanan asked, “So what’s the deal with our latest contact?”

“His name’s Atticus Nardeth. Apparently, he was an Imperial— Clone Wars veteran who just didn’t complain when the regime switched,” Hera explained, flicking her gaze across the crowd. “But then, he was sent to fight in the siege of Lasan.”

Understanding flashed through Kanan’s eyes. “I bet that changed his mind pretty quickly.”

“It did,” Hera said, pausing as the Rodian arrived with a tumbler for Kanan and a tall glass full of golden-orange liquid, a straw in it and a slice of meiloorun on the edge. Accepting hers with a smile, Hera waited until he was gone, then continued, “According to my source, the minute he realized what was happening, he put his rifle down and refused to go any farther. He was arrested, and spent the next years in prison.”

“Until now,” Kanan said.

Nodding, Hera sipped from her drink, enjoying the smooth, tangy-sweet taste. “He broke out two months ago, and he’s been on the run ever since. He claims to have some sort of information that the Empire would want, and so Fulcrum wants me to find out what he knows.”

“Sounds easy enough.” Kanan glanced around the room. “Any idea if he’s here yet?”

“The owner is a friend of his, so he probably is,” Hera said. “We just have to wait for him to show himself. I gave him a meeting time, so we just have to find him in the next hour.”

Snagging his cup, Kanan took a quick drink. “Then we’ve got some work to do. Mingling first or dancing?”

Hera sighed. “We’d better dance first. Then if I break my ankle, I can sit while I mingle.”

Kanan chuckled as he left a few credits on the counter, hopped out of his seat, and offered her a hand. “Don’t worry, Captain Hera. I’ve got your back.”

“You’d better,” Hera said, only half-joking as she placed her hand in his.

Together they headed out onto the dance floor as the band started playing an upbeat, fast-paced tune. Hera stumbled a few times at first, but quickly caught on to the rhythm of the dance. It helped that she had a good partner— Kanan was a better dancer than she’d expected, moving skillfully and covering for her mistakes with grace. “You never fail to surprise me, dear,” she told Kanan. “Someday, you’re going to have to tell me where you pick up these skills.”

Shooting her a grin, he said, “Now, where’s the fun in that? Want to try a spin?”

“Fine,” Hera said, unable to hold back a responding smile at his infectious delight. “But be prepared to catch me if I trip.”

“Always,” Kanan assured her. Lifting her arm, he spun her out. As Hera whirled around, she caught sight of a man sitting at a table set back in the shadows, watching them with a furrowed brow. Deliberately, he rose to his feet and started across the room towards the bar, and Hera caught sight of a dark scar curving across his temple, disappearing into his red hair.

He moved out of sight behind a crowd of Gotals, and Kanan pulled Hera back in. “Nice,” he complimented. “You didn’t even trip. I think you’re improving.”

“Undoubtedly,” Hera quipped wryly. Leaning closer, she lowered her voice. “I spotted our contact. He’s making his way to the bar.”

She felt Kanan’s muscles tighten slightly under her hands, and his chin brushed her forehead when he nodded. “Got it. Bad news— more Imperials just showed up, and they’re not out of uniform.”

Flicking a quick glance over her shoulder towards the door, Hera spotted one gray clad-figure making its way forward, followed by four in white. “That could be a problem,” she muttered. “We need a distraction.”

“I can handle that,” Kanan replied, and Hera arched an eyebrow at him.

“We need a distraction that doesn’t involve starting a bar fight. If we can get through this without the Empire spotting us or our contact, that would be ideal.”

“I can do subtle,” Kanan said. “Well, as subtle as distractions get. Don’t worry, it won’t cause a riot. Trust me on this one.”

Hera hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll head for the bar and get our friend. If anything goes sideways, we meet back at the speeder. Deal?”

“Deal,” Kanan said as the song they’d been dancing to came to an end. He started to pull away, his hand brushing her forearm, then paused, catching her eye. “Good luck.”

With that, he slipped away into the crowd, and Hera followed suit, making her way to the bar. She didn’t look after Kanan— although there was a part of her that wanted to, a part of her that wished she could follow him and feel his hand around hers again as they danced.

Don’t be ridiculous, Hera, she scolded herself. Whatever had been in that meiloorun drink was clearly going straight to her head.

Weaving her way through the crowd of dancing beings, she finally found herself at the bar. The red-haired man was sitting at the far end, a drink sitting untouched in front of him as he periodically glanced around the room.

Hera started to move towards him, then froze as a familiar deep voice rolled out from the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption.”

Spinning around, Hera gaped at the sight of Kanan on stage, holding a microphone. Looking completely confident and at ease, he continued, “I’d like to take this time to dedicate this song to someone very special out there, who happens to look stunning tonight.”

And to Hera’s absolute shock, he began to sing as the band played a upbeat, jazzy tune—

“We went down to the water,

So help me, father,

I believe I fell in love.

Since the day we met,

Where you’re all I’m dreaming of.

His voice was better than Hera would have expected— deep and rich, and the skill of the band made up for any mistakes he made. And, more importantly, his theatrics had totally drawn the attention of everyone in the room, Imperials included. Thank the Force for that, Hera thought, and headed over to the far end of the bar.

As she took the seat next to him, the red-haired man looked up, a frown knitting his face. “Atticus Nardeth?” Hera asked quietly.

He nodded, relief filling his eyes. “And you’re Captain Syndulla. Fulcrum made sure I knew what you looked like. I can’t begin to thank you for taking this risk.”

“It’s what I do, Mr. Nardeth,” Hera said. “And you’re the one taking the risk. You said you have information that the Empire doesn’t want out?”

Nardeth nodded, glancing around. “It’s about Lasan, about the massacre. You’ve heard plenty about that, I imagine.”

“I have,” Hera said, feeling a twinge of sorrow. “I heard about the ion disruptors, that after they were brought in… there were no survivors.”

“But that’s just it,” Nardeth said, his voice a harsh whisper. “There are survivors.”

Hera felt a bolt of shock run through her, and she stared at him. “What?”

“Well, at least one survivor,” the man amended. “I don’t know how, but he managed to get off the planet just as the disruptors were being used. I’ve been looking into him, and I may have a potential location.”

Hera sat, unmoving, her mind whirring as Kanan launched into the chorus of the song he was singing. A Lasat survivor, out there somewhere. There was no question of what she was to do next. “Where?” she asked.

Before Nardeth could respond, a formal, accented voice from behind them spoke. “Excuse me, sir. You need to come with us.”

Turning, Hera’s stomach lurched when she saw the Imperial officer standing there, flanked by stormtroopers. Rising from her seat, she offered him a look of confusion. “Is there a problem, officer?’ she asked, stealthily slipping her knife out from the sheath under her dress.

“Not at all, ma’am,” the Imperial said with more politeness than Hera had expected. “We simply need to speak to your companion.”

Hera shot a glance at Nardeth, and saw the fear and resignation in his eyes. “I don’t think so,” she said, starting to lunge towards the officer— and froze at the sound of four blasters humming to life.

“Don’t move,” one of the troopers barked.

“I’m going to have to ask you to drop the weapon,” the officer said, his hand drifting towards the blaster he wore at his side.

Kriff, Hera thought, scrambling for a way out. She shot a glance in Kanan’s direction— but he’d just finished the song, and was looking the other way, distracted.

Misreading her look, the Imperial said, “I wouldn’t try running for it.”

“Fine,” Hera said, letting out a sigh, and lifting her hands as if in surrender. And then she did the only thing she could possibly think of— she threw the knife at Kanan.

For a moment, she thought it wouldn’t work, as she and the very confused Imperials watched it whistle through the air, heading straight for Kanan. And then, in the middle of a conversation with one of the band members, Kanan’s hand snapped up, and he caught the knife inches from his face. Turning, he gave Hera a look that very clearly said, “What the kriff?” And then the confusion melted away as he saw the men surrounding her, and he gave her a tiny nod.

The Imperial officer stared at Kanan for a minute, then turned towards Hera. “I didn’t think he was that bad of a singer.”

“It’s complicated,” Hera said, letting out a sigh as the band started up again— and then blaster fire sounded as Kanan leapt off the stage, shooting one of the stormtroopers in the back.

The Imperials spun around, going for their weapons. Hera grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be Nardeth’s drink, and smashed it over the officer’s head. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious, as Kanan charged towards them, blaster firing repeatedly.

The other troopers hit the ground within seconds, and pandemonium broke loose as the patrons of the club screamed and ran for the exits. Turning to Hera, Kanan held up her knife. “You threw a knife at my face,” he said, sounding wounded.

Plucking it from his hand, Hera replied, “I knew you would catch it.”

“That doesn’t mean you didn’t throw a deadly weapon at my face,” Kanan protested.

“Well, I tried giving you two winks but you were distracted,” Hera said, rolling her eyes.

Kanan opened his mouth to protest, stared at her for a long moment, then closed his mouth. “Right. Let’s figure out a way out of here before more Imperials show up.”

“Good plan,” Hera agreed. “The exits are too crowded. Nardeth, is there a way out that leads to the back lot?”

“There’s a window upstairs,” the man said.

“Show us,” Kanan commanded, grabbing a blaster from one of the dead troopers and tossing it to Hera. Nardeth immediately moved forward through the crowd, and Kanan and Hera followed on his heels.

They’d made it halfway up the staircase in the back of the room when they heard voices shouting orders from downstairs. “Looks like the Empire finally showed up,” Kanan said.

“Then we’d better make this quick,” Hera said. “Nardeth?”

“This way,” he said, leading them into a parlor with ornate furniture and a fairly large window. Hera moved up to it, peering through the dirty glass. Sure enough, it looked out on the vacant lot, their speeder visible at the far end.

“Does this window open?” she asked, and Nardeth shook his head. “Alright— stand back.”

They all backed up, and Hera fired a blaster bolt into the center of the window, shattering the glass. There were urgent shouts from below, and Kanan moved to the door, shutting it and shoving a char in front of it as Hera cleared the last shards of glass from the window.

“It’s quite a drop, but we should be able to handle it,” she said. “Kanan, you go first.”

“You’re the pilot,” Kanan pointed out. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to go first?”

Giving him a “don’t you dare argue right now” look, Hera said, “I want someone down there to make sure we don’t bump into any Imperials. Now, please. Nardeth, you go after him. I’ll watch our backs.”

Kanan grumbled something under his breath, but hopped up onto the window sill and vaulted out. Nardeth followed seconds later, and Hera was about to follow when she heard someone banging on the door.

“Open up in the name of the Empire!”

“Oh, great,” Hera muttered. Scrambling onto the sill, she raised her blaster as the door flew open— but was stopped by the chair Kanan had shoved in the way. Still, the crack was large enough for blaster fire to come zipping into the room. Hera returned fire quickly, edging towards the opening. She could hear Kanan shouting her name from below, but steadfastly ignored it. Just another minute, and I can make it out. Just one more—

A stray blaster bolt slashed across her arm, and Hera let out a gasp of pain, jerking backwards instinctively. Her foot slipped, and suddenly she was plummeting over the edge of the windowsill.

She braced herself for a painful landing— but slammed into something decidedly less unyielding than the permacrete ground. “Gotcha,” Kanan grunted, staggering a little and Hera clung to him instinctively as he caught his balance. “You okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” Hera replied breathlessly— which was from the fall, of course. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was so close to his face that she could see the variations of color in his blue green eyes. She could feel him breathing, his arm secure and warm around her waist.

Seeming to realize he was still holding her, Kanan hastily set her down. “Right,” he said, lifting an eyebrow as he nodded at her arm. “Because that’s okay.”

“That’s going to have to wait until later,” Hera said as more crashes sounded from above them. “Let’s go!”

They raced over to the speeder, and Hera had it up and running in seconds. With both Kanan and Nardeth on board, she shot out of the vacant lot, cruising down the street and away from the club as fast as possible.

They ditched the speeder a few blocks from the spaceport, then hurried down the streets, avoiding people as much as possible, Hera wearing Kanan’s jacket to disguise the wound on her arm. Somehow, they made it to the spaceport and reached the Ghost without being caught.

Just being on board her ship made Hera feel better. Bolting into the cockpit, she began the startup sequence, ignoring the throbbing from her arm that grew with every second.

“Whoa— what happened? Is this your idiot’s fault?” Chopper beeped indignantly.

“It’s the Empire’s fault, Chop,” Hera said. “As always. Now let’s get moving, I don’t want to tangle with any TIEs on the way out of here.”

“Eh, a little murder always spices up the evening,” Chopper disagreed, but he rolled forward to help her anyways. Within seconds, the Ghost’s engines had rumbled to life and they were lifting off.

There was no sign of pursuit, but Hera still refused to relax until they’d broken through the atmosphere and the stars blurred into hyperspace around them. Only then did she sit back in her chair, taking a deep breath. She felt herself shaking from the aftermath as the adrenaline drained away.

“Hera.” Kanan’s voice jolted her upright, and she realized with alarm that she’d been drifting off. He was kneeling next to her, his brows knitted together in concern. “We need to get that arm looked at.”

“It’s just a scratch— I can take care of it myself,” Hera said. “Where’s the first aid kit?”

Kanan responded by holding it up, and Hera reached for it. “No,” he said firmly. “You’re the boss, and you know I respect that. But I’m not gonna sit by and watch as you stitch yourself up. Let me help. That’s why I’m here.”

Hera nearly started arguing— but he was right. And she was honestly too tired to fight him on this right now. “Okay,” she said, reluctantly sitting up. “Let’s get this over with.”

Carefully, Kanan helped her pull off the suit coat. The blaster burn had started bleeding, and a dark stain marred the inside of the sleeve, blood sticking it to Hera’s skin. She winced as it pulled painfully against her skin. “Sorry,” Kanan murmured as he tugged the sleeve away.

“I’m sorry,” Hera said, shrugging off the coat and biting her lip hard against the pain. The burn was small enough that it wasn’t a big problem, but it definitely stung. “I bled all over your jacket.”

Kanan gave her a look that she couldn’t quite decipher. “I don’t really care about the jacket.” Flipping open the first aid kit, he started digging through the contents, and Hera took the opportunity to grimace, pressing her eyes shut. Stars, this hurts.

When she opened her eyes, Kanan was watching her again, his frown even deeper. “What’s wrong?” Hera asked. “If you’re mad at me about staying behind longer—”

“Force, no. You’re the boss, remember? I do what you say, and try not to worry too much.” Kanan was quiet for a long moment as he pulled out bacta spray and gauze, and Hera pretended her mind wasn’t fixating on the implication that Kanan worried about her.

Finally, he spoke. “You’re allowed to hurt. You know that, right?”

Hera frowned at him. “What?”

Kanan exhaled hard, rubbing his forehead with a frown. “You’re allowed to hurt. You always just… bottle it up. Keep a strong face so no one sees that it’s affected you— and don’t get me wrong, I admire how strong you are.” Soaking some of the gauze in bacta spray, he began to gently dab at the wound, cleaning away the blood. “But you don’t always have to be the strong one. Sometimes, it’s okay to let things out.”

As he kept working, Hera stared at him, feeling surprise cutting through her. She’d never really thought about what he was saying. For her, for years, it had just… been this way. Just her and Chopper, with no one to really take care of her. So she’d had to grit her teeth, to stitch herself up and not let herself fully feel the pain until she collapsed into her bunk.

But now, things were different. Now she had a crew. Or to be more precise, she had Kanan. Kanan, who was carefully wiping the last of the blood away from her wound, and wrapping it in gauze, his hands gentle.

It was the last thing she would have expected from the gunslinger she’d met on Gorse. But then, Kanan was always surprising her these days.

“You’re right,” she said quietly, and Kanan glanced up at her, surprise flashing through his eyes. “I’m not used to having someone else take care of me. It’s still new, and I don’t want to be a burden—”

“You could never be a burden, Hera,” Kanan said, his voice firm. “You’re the reason we got this far, you’re the one who’s holding this crew together. You’re allowed to let someone take care of you every now and then.”

The look in his eyes was determined, but there was also a warmth in his eyes, one that sent a shiver through Hera. “And… and you’re the one who’s going to be taking care of me, then?” she asked.

Tucking in the last edges of the bandages, Kanan offered her a half-smile. “That’s why I’m here, Captain Hera.”

His words were cavalier, but the care with which he finished bandaging her arm, and the way his hands lingered, just for a second, fingertips brushing her skin— that told a different story. Packing away everything in the first aid kit, he rose to his feet, glancing at her. “You looked nice tonight, by the way. But you always do.”

“Oh,” Hera managed, caught off guard. But something about the compliment. It had been a long time since he’d said something like that— but there was something about this time that made it feel real, and brought a smile to her face. “Thank you,” she said. “You’re a better singer than I would have thought.”

Kanan smiled back, and for a moment it was just the two of them, watching each other and wondering what would happen next, if one would make the first move or if this would be another missed opportunity.

And then the cockpit door hissed open. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Captain,” Nardeth said tentatively, and both Kanan and Hera turned towards him.

“Not at all,” Hera said, rising from her chair. “When I spoke to Fulcrum earlier, they said that they had a place for you to hide— we’re heading to the rendezvous point now.”

“Thank you,” Nardeth said. “I appreciate that— but I’m here about the Lasat survivor right now.”

“Wait,” Kanan said, and Hera glanced over to see his eyes widening. “There’s a Lasat survivor? That’s why we’re here?”

“I was as surprised as you were,” Hera said quietly. Looking back at Nardeth, she said, “Of course. Do you have a location?”

“He’s been moving around a lot,” the man said, “but his last known location was Kijimi.”

Hera turned to look at Kanan, and found him already looking at her, eyes expectant. “I guess we’re going to Kijimi, then,” she said. “As long as you’re in, dear.”

“I’m with you all the way,” Kanan promised. And not for the first time, Hera wondered if there was something else behind that promise, something that had been there when they first met and was steadily growing stronger.

It wasn’t the first time she’d wondered about this. But it might have been the first time she found herself hoping for it.

This wasn’t something she had time to worry about now, though. Right now, she had another mission to run, and a Lasat to find. But she had Kanan by her side— and together, the two of them could handle anything.

#hera syndulla #kanan jarrus #kaneraweek2022 #kanera #star wars rebels #swr #pre swr #undercover mission #tw injury #tw blood #kanera is love kanera is life #21st of september #writing stories is a kind of magic too

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