#he wants to avoid everything so bad.. gah | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bronx-bomber87 · 4 months

Text

Happy Wednesday Fandom. We’ve reached THE episode. Sorry little later than usual. Life didn't understand I had a review to do ha I remember not knowing what this ep would quite be. When it was done I had to pick my jaw off the floor. I was in utter shock and felt like a fever dream I was watching. Like did that really just happen? Was that real life? It’s was so exciting to have the payoff.

Even if it felt like it wasn’t real LOL Did my damn best to get everything in. I feel like I’ve become really good at this gif puzzle but eps like this really pushes me to the limit ha. God bless the gif website I found or I would be screwed haha Let’s get this started :)

5x08 The Collar

Aaron wants to shadow Angela and Harper today. He is looking into being a detective someday. So Grey re-assigns him to them and Lucy to Tim. Telling her she’s back on gopher duty. They could not be MORE suspicious or obvious if they tried my god. You know Grey knows his question about riding together is making them more uncomfortable. It's hilarious really. Trying to get them to out themselves. Instead they’re just little awko tacos staring at each other bumbling around.

He knows they’re lying with their 'No's' But he also doesn’t care. LOL They’re riding together whether they like it or not. It's amazing with their lives on the line with UC their ability to lie is amazing. Flawless really. Having to deal with their still weirdness and not show it? Abysmal. Such bad liars in this scene holy hell. The amount of awkward in this 30 seconds floors me.

From the minute Grey suggests they ride together they’re awkward dorks. Ones who don’t know complete sentences or words. This scene says so much with saying so little at the same time . There’s a reason they’ve stayed away from each other. This moment right here. They’re so very aware if they are back in a shop together everything they’ve been avoiding will come rushing back. Such a strong start to the ep for them though. Enjoyed their discomfort so much ha

We start out with them in the shop being awkward af. I loved the shots in this one and their opening one is great. With the cams coming to life and their day starting. Lucy of course is the first the break the silence. Asking him how single life is? He tells her really nice. How he didn’t have to deal with anyone complaining about him watching football all day.

Lucy giving him crap of course about never leaving the house. Things maybe weird between them but their comfortable banter hasn’t suffered. They fall right back into it with this scene. That married energy they have coming right back into play here. Gah they just balance each other out so well it’s insane. Haven’t had a couple this in-sync since Caskett on Castle.

I love him being a hermit though. He earned it after Ashley. He did whatever she damn well pleased for months. You stay home and watch your football babe. You earned it after that disaster of a relationship. Tim does defend himself a little saying he took Kojo out LOL I consider that going out too when I’m needing a hermit day. I'm with you on this Tim.

I love the affectionate way Lucy says he’s hopeless. That’s the beautiful thing about Lucy for Tim. Yeah she gives him crap but she fully loves that man for who he is. She would spend a day being a hermit with him just because it made him happy. D just wrote an amazing fic on that concept actually. (You should read it so so good) Lucy loving and accepting him for who he is and not condemning him for it. Yeah she’s teasing him for being ‘hopeless’ when really she is so fond of who he is as a person. Loves that man inside and out. You can see the adoration on her face when she delivers that line.

Just love the idea of them having lazy Sundays together now. Lucy indulging his hermit ways when he needs it. No doubt Tim indulges when she wants to be out. Because their partnership is a balanced one. Gah I love them. Chris FaceTimes her and Tim looks over and makes a face LOL god damn I love this man. Chris asks her if she’s busy? She says no…but seems not at ease with this phone call. Lucy asks where he is? He tells her an open house…They could not be more opposites in this moment. They spoke earlier about moving in and Chris jumped the gun to houses. Sprinting toward a future she doesn't want.

Lucy wasn't even on board for moving in...She is looking so very panicked. He’s going on about how it needs work but is 3 bedrooms. Tim’s interest now has been piqued and it’s stressing Lucy out for a couple reasons. She is no where near ready for this step and he’s gunning to a house. Second Tim can overhear this adding another level of stress. She doesn’t want Tim to think they are there. Because well they aren’t….Lucy cuts the phone call off abruptly. Asks if they can talk later? Chris being the clueless oaf he is doesn’t pick up on her stress at all. He says 'love you' and she says nothing in reply just ends the damn call LOL

Tim asks if they’re moving together? Lucy looks even more distressed after the phone call. Her body language screaming she’s being dragged into this situation. Kicking and screaming really. Lucy tells him no…Tim follows up with ‘He seems to think you are…’ Lucy is having a panic attack right now when he says that. The way she puts her hand on her chest. Trying to relieve the building pressure of this whole thing. Now there’s a girl ready to move in with her BF…. She seems so rattled the entire conversation with Tim.

Lucy continues on that he kind of sprang it on her this morning. He can read her discomfort like a book. So he continues his line of questioning. Which is unreal because you know the shop is a personal life free zone right Timothy? The fact that he’s the one pursuing this conversation. Being the one to ask the questions. My god how far we’ve come it’s crazy. He can tell how unsettled she is. The way he’s analyzing her and looking at her tells him everything he needs to know.

Yet he asks her ‘You guys are happy right?’ Lucy does a very unenthusiastic ‘Yeah we’re happy…’ Tim presses on like a devils advocate that is making her panic worse. Saying if that's true this is 'The next obvious steps for them then.' Lucy continuing her fake streak saying they’re “super happy.” Ok love sure you are…As she says this she is rubbing the crap out of her tattoo. Just being a lying liar who lies right now. They get a call before the convo continues on.

Everyone gets involved in a stop Nolan and Celina have. She has a bomb collar around her neck and she becomes the focal point for everything. The tension and writing leading up to them getting her to that parking lot in immense. Even though I've seen this episode many many times that portion always gets me. It’s so sad how afraid she is and her re-evaluating her life cause of it. How empty it feels now.

Pam and John talking was heartbreaking. How all she wanted was for her mom to know she loved her ugh. Sadly she ends up dying and that’s where this scene begins for them. I truly think this SL was a motivator for Tim. One of the reasons for where we head in this one. Because it’s so easy to get bogged down with life. To fall into the going through the motions. To have regrets with having a comfort zone. Tim taking a shot based off that.

Lucy expressing how she is feeling. It was upsetting to watch as a viewer. I can’t imagine being there watching that unfold. Tim being her sounding board. Knowing how upset she is right now. Giving her feedback on what he thought was the killers motive. Talking this out because he know it'll ease her mind. Then stupid Chris calls. Blind as a bat couldn’t read Lucy if his life depended on it.

He’s not calling to see if she’s ok or how she’s doing. No he’s calling about a f*cking house. She could not be more distraught right now. What does this tool bag do? Bring up listings. I love how Tim’s eyes pan over to her. Checking in on her emotional state. Seeing she is so distraught. It’s very obvious she is upset and this is the last thing she wants to be talking about. This moment is opening her eyes to who Chris is as a person. She isn’t liking what she sees.

Her ‘wow’ sounds like she is trying to stop herself from going off on him. So ignorant and oblivious to her and what she needs right now. Lucy already wasn’t on board with this which he didn’t see. Now she’s rattled from their current case and this mofo is sending her house stuff. Lucy can’t even process this right now. Tim being her absolute hero and hearing her silent screaming bails her out. “Yelling” at her to get off the phone. Hate his line ‘He’s in a mood.’

No you’re a clueless insensitive idiot. Who he is currently saving her from. He presses about that damn listing one more time before she hangs up. Haven’t wanted to sucker punch him this badly since 4x17. Lucy can finally breathe when they hang up. She looks to her rock and says ‘Thanks.’ A very loaded and grateful one. Tim giving her the sweetest look. Fierce protector reporting for duty. Putting her first in this moment and saving her from that convo going further.

I LOVE how Tim is constantly watching and checking in on her in this episode. He handles this whole thing so well. He’s not a dick telling her to dump Chris. He’s so so god damn attuned to her emotionally. It shows so very much in this episode. Lucy loves to talk things out and yet she keeps avoiding it in this episode. Avoiding truly getting to the root of why she’s feeling the way she is.

Which is fascinating considering that’s her jam. Analyzing and breaking something down. Digging deep to see why something is the way it is. Yet on this one she is avoiding it and Tim gets her to face it. He even gives her an out if she needs it. Telling her if she doesn’t want to move in with Chris she doesn’t have to. Tim just got out of a ‘moving through the motions.’ relationship. His POV on this is excellent.

He doesn’t want to see her settle or be forced into anything she doesn’t want. Just because Chris is ready and wants it. Lucy finally starts to talk about it. Saying why doesn’t she want to move in with him? Telling Tim they never fight. Thats a huge red flag if you ask me Lucy. That’s not healthy at all. Tim telling her maybe that’s the problem here….

It’s this next line above that really gets Lucy’s thoughts in motion. Tim just did a mind f*ck when he asked her this. You can see the realization washing over her in that second gif. Because he’s not wrong. You fight because it is worth fighting for. Chris has always been this blah middle of the road nothing for her. Was a BF? Yes. Was he decent? That’s debatable…

Chris was just there as a safety net for loneliness. Now that he’s becoming more than that it’s becoming a serious issue. One she can't ignore anymore. All their glaring problems coming to light in this moment in her mind. Tim is talking her through this (which I can't get over.) With the most perfect mixture of empathy and logic. She’s slowly realizing he is NOT worth the bother.

Tim is not only pointing this out but with massive heart eyes. Telling her she deserves someone who’s worth the effort. Pre-laying all his cards on the table in this moment. She can’t break the eye contact with him after he says this. Knowing what he means by this statement. This entire episode is him being Tim ‘I’m worth the effort’ Bradford for her. The more she looks at Chris the less she likes it.

The more she looks at Tim the more she knows he’s the one. And that scares her to death. God I love him stepping up and guiding her like this. Not only that but talking her though this whole thing. Something that he avoided like the plague in 3x09. Shaking closure and talking off and saying it was useless. Here he is talking her through this crisis she is having. He’s crushing it too btw. Such an iconic line for them for so many reasons. This makes me squee still rewatching it.

Before their convo goes any further they spot a second person with a collar. This guy is way more aggressive about saving his life. Pulls off and finds some sheers. Saying he’s not waiting around to die. Tim immediately grabs Lucy and heads for cover. It’s the way he holds her and shields her at the same time.

That’s his whole world right there. He would take the heat of a thousand bombs to protect her. Tim has a one track mind in this moment. He’s not thinking Lucy can handle herself. Or she is capable of getting to cover on her own. No he’s thinking that’s the woman he loves in front of a bomb.

It changes his entire perspective. So he full on grabs her and places his body between her and the bomb. Thats his first instinct to throw himself between her and harm. Gah it’s so good and just feels like more in this ep. Proving to Lucy over and over in this one she is worth the effort to him. Fierce protector front and center.

We catch them back in the shop trying to figure out next moves about this next bomb. Chris texts her another listing... In an area she CLEARLY doesn’t want to live in. Tim can’t stand to watch her suffer any longer. He is as straight forward with her in this moment as I’ve ever seen him. He knows she has been on edge all day. From the case alone.

Now she has Chris making matters worse with each interaction. She looks so upset when Tim asks her if she loves him? Noting that 'He clearly loves her.' His growth I talk about a lot and it’s episodes like this that truly show it. Look at this man pressing her to talk about this. He knows she’s in her head and talking it out always makes it better. Tim knows this about her and is pursuing it for that reason.

Lucy has been running from her feelings for Tim for quite some time. She low key knew about them in s4. Then 4x21 happened and they imploded on her. Hitting her like ton of bricks. This moment is her ‘Come to Jesus’ moment about Chris. Also about her feelings for Tim. Saying out loud she SHOULD love him. That he’s great in so many different ways and yet…

It’s hitting her in this very moment she can’t love Chris because she loves Tim. Because that man is and NEVER will be Tim Bradford. He will forever pale in comparison to the man sitting to her left. Tim is the most important person in her life. It’s just hitting her like a freight train what’s happening. I love how she trails off as she comes to this conclusion. The way she looks at him when she comes to this realization.

Doesn't take much for Tim to see what she almost said to him. Lucy says enough that Tim knows what she is saying in this moment. The way he looks at her after her almost confession. my heart. I think this scene is another catalyst to their ending scene. I remember watching this scene and saying ‘You’ for her and squeeing my head off. Because she just basically admitted to not only herself but to Tim. That Chris is not Tim. He never will be…They both know it at this point. He is not 'You' is where she was headed and they both are aware of this.

We’ve reached THE scene. The scene that changed all of our shipper lives. heh Lucy coming up saying she needs to talk to him. Her rubbing that tattoo of hers before she sits down. Tim making a crack about Chris wanting to live in some remote place. I don’t know anything about CA but I imagine that city he listed isn’t great ha

Lucy says ‘No…’ Tim goes right at it telling she just doesn’t want to admit it’s not working. He asks her why she is doing this? When she is clearly so VERY unhappy about this development. This entire episode she spent stressed and on edge about Chris. Asking her if it's the guilt about Rosalind?

Lucy tries to pull a Tim and deflect. Bringing up Ashley and staying in a relationship too long. Tim does not let that fly for one damn second. Continues his assertive comments with her. He gets so worked up when he cuts her off about it above. That this isn't about him. Telling her she’s just hiding in this relationship because she’s scared.

It’s here Lucy blows his damn mind with her reply. Airing her fears of losing the the most important person in her life. Now I think Tim knew there was an attraction on Lucy’s end no doubt. She invited him in for gods sake in 5x01. He knew there was an attraction. What he didn’t know was the level of importance he held her life. It’s written all over his face. He is shocked legit shocked she feels this way about him. Now anyone with eyes could see Tim is exactly what she said. The most important relationship in her life.

The thing is Tim is so very damaged in that way. I get that so very much. Where you don’t expect those around you to love or care as much as you love and care for them. The sucky life of an insanely loyal person who has been burned which I can relate to. My friend just other day told me how much he missed me while I was away in TN visiting my sister. Him and my other friend missed me. I made a joke like oh did you not think I would come back?

Would you miss me or something? He looked at me and was like yes. We love you don’t you know that? I would be devastated if you didn’t come back. We’ve been friends for almost 5 years. It still shocks me I have people who love me and would miss me. So I can deeply relate to Tim being shocked he holds that place of importance in Lucy’s life. He’s NEVER been put first. Not till Lucy Chen entered his orbit.

She panics when she sees his reaction not reading him like she usually does. Thinking she’s overshared. When really Tim is just smitten af with her reply. He is beside himself with shock that he is HER #1 person. He doesn’t feel worthy. Thats not what Lucy reads at first when she sees his reaction. She thinks she’s over shared or over stepped in some way. Tim stops that train of thought right away. Telling her 'No she’s right.' Lucy once again misreads him and thinks they should just back off this then. Better to keep them as is. ‘It’s not worth the risk...’

Then we see our boy do the biggest leap of faith I’m sure he’s ever done and combat her reply with our next iconic OTP line. ‘Unless it is.’ Looks how cute he is when he says this. His precious upside down smirk. Reminds me of his cute smirk from 4x22 after their peck. He looks so excited about this idea. Just look at this puppy of a man. Going for it and telling her I think we are worth this. Wanting to give them a shot. Basically saying we are worth risking what we currently have for what could be.

This next part is where his courage really shines through. I love how he takes this deep shaky breath in the first gif. So nervous to ask her this question. Tim Bradford is NERVOUS everyone. So nervous to ask the woman he loves to take a chance on him. To go out to dinner and give this a shot. He finally finds the courage to ask her. Lucy’s answer is immediate and adorable.

If she could go to dinner right then and there she would. Jumping out of her skin with excitement at his proposal of going out. Tim is so elated and his smile so damn wide when he says ‘Yeah?’ He can’t believe his luck. Looks like the smile of a man who just got everything he's ever wanted. Months of longing over in this moment of courage. He’s so happy she’s said yes. The man is beaming proudly displaying that Lucy smile he reserves for her and ONLY her. Lucy mirrors his elation with her 'Yeah' *heart clutch*

Lucy then back tracks and we watch our boy deflate instantly. He looks so very upset when she takes it back. Her excitement got the better of her and she retracts. I saw a hilariously accurate depiction of Tim in this scene. Said he had golden retriever energy in this moment. All excited and giddy for getting what he wants. Body wiggling with absolute joy. Then is told no and is all sad and deflated. Then he doesn’t perk back up until she says she needs to end things with Chris first.

The analogy cracked me up because it was accurate. He looks so very gutted when she says no after. Has that 'This was too good to be true I guess.' energy coming off him in waves. Lucy tries to rectify the situation with her reason why. Doesn't want to see that sad look on his face. The man looks devastated. He just went from an absolute high only to come crashing down seconds later. The way he nods like he understands but is really hurt about it. My poor puppy of a man.

I love how he lights backs up when she tells him to ask her again. Later. After she’s rid herself of the dead weight that is Chris. Making sure Tim knows she wants this just as much as he does. She just needs to end things first. Make it right. No one gets doing things honorably more than Tim Bradford. His cute smile after he tells Lucy 'Deal.' His hope returning. Their body language above in the last gif is everything. Their bodies are pointed towards each other. They couldn’t be happier right now. Leaning in toward one another finally giving into that magnetic pull of their's. Both grinning like idiots in love. Gah I can not. I am a puddle. I remember rewinding that scene to make sure I saw and heard everything correctly.

I was expecting their pining era to last longer tbh. I was delightfully surprised when Tim of all people took the leap. Helped Lucy take it with him. For him to be the one without doubts and to go for it was so important. Lucy for the most part has been the catalyst in their relationship. Tim has has his moments. More so in the last season or so. But Lucy has mainly been in the drivers seat. To watch this man overcome his fear of rejection and go for it with her. my damn heart. This man isn’t scared to ruin what they have because he KNOWS. This is it for him. She is it. I can’t get over how much he’s grown to get to this place.

To be the one to say hey we’re worth the risk. Would you like to go out with me? Showing her she’s worth the effort of leaving his comfort zone. This moment right here is why I’m so glad they did the slow burn. Why I was ultimately happy they didn’t hook up in 5x01. This was the right way to do it. I wouldn’t trade a moment of their journey to get to this point. Not one and that’s is a rarity I’ve only had with one other ship. Castle and Beckett and that is a high honor if you know that ship. This was another daunting one to tackle but so fun to write about. I was buzzing for days after this episode. Mostly just happy this is where our slow burn ended up. Wouldn’t change a damn thing.

~~~

Side notes-non Chenford

The whole bomb SL with Pam makes me cry every time. It’s so tragic. Will say John was great with her rarely give him props but he does so good with her. Celina having to do the death notice kills me this ep is very emotional.

Bailey messing with John with the clowns is pretty funny LOL but idk how Bailey could think a coyote was a dog lmao ‘how did you get him In the crate?’ 😂

63 notes · View notes

iwritenarrativesandstuff · 9 months

Text

Trimax Thoughts Vol. 5 Pt. 3

Here we go again. (Gah I'm so behind sorry guys) More thoughts on Vash's no good, very bad mental health, this time focused on trauma symptoms and his uncharacteristic lack of foresight and planning when it comes to confronting Knives.

[ID: A panel from Trigun Maximum Volume 5. Vash is hunched over among the rubble. He is not drawn in extensive detail, being merely eyes, an open mouth, spiky hair and a mass of feather-like projections covering his whole body and culminating in a single large wing protruding from his back. End ID.]

Again, this is going to get a little heavy, and became quite long. You have been warned.

(Sorry, the image of fluffy Vash has very little to do with anything... other than the fact that he is actively having a breakdown in that scene I guess. I just really wanted to include that panel. Lol.)

To start with, at the very beginning of my read of the manga, I commented on how Vash clearly demonstrates some pretty textbook avoidant behaviours. Then I took note later on of Vash's concerning lack of self-regard, resulting in little thought being given to a future for himself after confronting Knives.

Well. It gets worse I'm afraid. 👍

Vash displays enough clear signs of trauma in the manga that I am convinced he actually meets criteria for a PTSD diagnosis (specifically surrounding July). I'm a student in this field, not a professional, but I'm going to loosely run over the trauma symptoms he displays. <-This is important for the point I am trying to make.

Category 1: Intrusive Memories

Flashbacks - Yeah, all throughout Volume 5 as the memories of what happened all come rushing back at once (with Hoppered and Meryl unfortunately caught up in his trauma-induced breakdown. rip you two I am so sorry)

Nightmares - A bit harder to say. There aren't nightmares about July it seems, on account of his having forgotten the event. He dreams about Rem frequently though, it can be assumed, only for her to be wrenched away from him shortly before waking. This was in Volume 1 of Trigun.

Severe Emotional and Physical Reactions to Reminders - Volume 2 of Trigun, shortly before Fifth Moon. Vash freezes in place when he spots the doctor, which clearly triggers some kind of faint recognition and sense of horror. He doesn't notice Knives approaching until he is right in front of him.

Category 2: Avoidance

Of Thinking/Talking About It - Vash notably doesn't actually question anything to do with July, which you would think he would, if he can't remember anything. He just knows that the city was destroyed and Knives was there - up until Fifth Moon, I don't think there was any doubt in his mind that it was Knives who was responsible. After this, he spends two years in hiding, out of fear of himself and a lack of desire to engage with reminders of his past.

Category 3: Negative Changes

Hopelessness - For a guy who wants people to have hope... he doesn't allot much to himself... :(

Memory Problems - The core issue before Vol. 5. Vash had no idea what happened in July. He even blocked out part of Fifth Moon.

Negative Self-Opinion - "I should never have been born." "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry" :(

Difficulty Maintaining Close Relationships - Always leaving people without saying goodbye. Still rarely calls Meryl and Milly by their names. People have to chase after him if they want him around.

Detachment - His go-to when everything gets too much. See the Leonof fight for a good example.

Difficulty Experiencing Positive Emotions - "Ya always smiled all cheerfully, but it was so empty it hurts just lookin' at ya."

Category 4: Physical/Emotional Reactions

Always on Guard - He can't use his real name most of the time. He trains all the time; has to respond quickly to ever-present danger.

Self-Destructive Behaviour - ...it's Vash. :/

Irritability/Angry Outbursts/Aggression - Very much so. Anger is a driving motive and we see this flare up whenever Knives is so much as mentioned. He even gets uncharacteristically short with Meryl when she tries to stop him from confronting him, and Vash does not tend to be very rational or composed in situations where he is genuinely angry. <- I will be coming back to this point.

Overwhelming Guilt or Shame - ...again. It's Vash. :/

Other Complications that can Arise:

Depression (this should go without saying. he's fighting so hard to feel every scrap of fleeting joy he can)

Suicidal Thoughts and Actions (I went over this before. These have cropped up in almost every volume so far and I expect this to get much worse)

Eating Issues (This appears to be Stampede specific, but I thought I'd mention it anyways)

So, uh. I hope this is enough proof. He clearly does have severe trauma, and well, that's not really a surprise, considering what actually happened. Vash inadvertently killed an entire city's worth of people. Absorbed them, even. Deeply traumatic for someone who doesn't want to hurt anyone at all - but this is not the only part of July that was traumatic.

Let's go back to the aggression part of the response - the "fight" aspect that sometimes arises when put in stressful situations that reminds one of their trauma. See, Vash's anger is something we as readers see a lot in the story but that's because we primarily see major scenes where he is pushed to his limits. In all actuality, for those parts in between, he's a chill and friendly guy. Does he get irritated? Quite easily. Does he always have a bit of simmering resentment in him? Sure. But this is not the explosive kind of rage we see when he is confronted with Knives. Usually, Vash is more prone to introspective melancholy or bitterness than violent rage - for as much as we see it, the latter is actually rather uncommon.

So, too, is the way he "confronts" Knives. Vash is typically very in control of himself; he's confident with his skills, clever and adaptable, and generally speaking, very good at planning out his next moves. In a gunfight, for as much as he would prefer not to be wrapped up in it, he is in his element. Even when there is uncertainty, he still eventually takes decisive action. ...except where Knives is concerned.

[ID: Two screenshots from the Trigun manga. The first is from Volume 5 of Maximum. Vash aims his gun with a serious expression and says "I've finally caught up with you... Knives." Knives looks at him, taken aback. The second image is from Volume 2 of Trigun. Vash shouts as he raises his gun rapidly to aim at Knives, blurred with quick vertical lines to make the speed of the motion obvious. His expression is furious. Knives looks at him, part of his face shadowed, again, looking taken aback. End ID.]

...hello? Sir? Why are you just pointing your gun and like. Not doing anything? Like he keeps aiming his gun and then just... holding it there. Even Vash in Stampede fired on Knives' weapons. This guy, for all his rage, hasn't unleashed a single shot unless the situation forced him to. In fact, Vash's entire wording surrounding Knives and how he is going to stop him is also extremely vague. He says things like "settle the score" and "send him to hell", which, to me, initially implied killing him... but Vash has no issue using the word "kill", and he never actually says that about Knives. He says he's going to stop him, but fails to actually specify how. I cannot stress enough that this lack of foresight is actually deeply uncharacteristic of him.

But here's the thing.

[ID: Part of a panel from Trigun Volume 2. Vash's thoughts are set on a white background. They read "We... I... should never have been born." End ID.]

He switches his wording here. The subject of the sentence changes from "we" to "I". Even in his mind, he can't muster that kind of sentiment about his brother. He's angry with Knives, even hates him... but I strongly disbelieve he actually wants him dead. Knives is his brother, man. That still means something to him.

You might be wanting to pause me here and ask why I framed the confronting of Knives as an aggressive response due to trauma, as opposed to just vengeance/retribution for Rem and for July. Yeah, well, there's an interesting contrast to be made here. Look up at the two confrontation images again.

Before July, Vash is level-headed when confronting him; angry, but in control. After July, he is yelling and openly bitter and wrathful. There's even a difference in him looking for information on Knives and his associates. In July, he's just asking around. There's none of the darkness we see in the series proper. By contrast, his mood does a sharp turn after July whenever Knives is so much as mentioned. More than that, there's this, too.

[ID: Knives stands facing Vash so only the back of his head can be seen. His head is next to Vash's gun. Vash looks startled. A speech bubble shows two exclamation points. End ID.]

...Vash is... actually scared here. Knives is approaching him and he's frozen due to the feeling that something sickening happened, even though he's the one holding the gun. July was stressful and terrifying for Vash even before the angel arm went off, and dare I say, already traumatic.

Vash knew two things in that scene, and pretty much only two things:

His arm was transforming uncontrollably, something he had no clue prior to this it could even do.

Knives wanted him to "release" his power, which would "swallow" everything in the place they're in. Clearly Knives intended harm to others with whatever power lay dormant in Vash.

This is already a terrifying situation - body horror on top of the certainty that something horrible is about to happen if he loses control - and it shows. He is visibly panting and struggling with the exertion of trying to suppress it, and Knives is not helping in the slightest by asking him piercing questions like he is, taking advantage of Vash's vulnerability here to make him tip over the edge and somehow admit that it was all a lie and deep down he feels the same as Knives. Now, notably Vash doesn't deny occasionally feeling hatred for humanity - he just tells Knives to "stop it". But Knives, instead, doubles down with his questioning.

This is not the only time in this scene Vash has tried to get Knives to stop. Knives does not stop at Vash's distress. Vash tells him to stop, he doesn't. Vash points his gun at him (again, he doesn't fire), and Knives still does not stop. In a last ditch attempt to reason, Vash somehow psychically transmits the faces and feelings he has towards all the people who were kind to him - you can see some of the residents of July, Ship 3's Luida, Doc, Brad and Jessica, and probably others he's met on his travels. Knives loses it and shoves him on to the ground.

I think Vash was well within his right to take self-defensive action here - and indeed, I really think that's what happened when he fired the angel arm at Knives.

Look, I really like it when intentional mistakes are made and characters have to deal with the consequences, and I think there are scenes in which this can apply to Vash (namely, I can think of more than a few drawbacks to his passivity in early Trimax, and his conflict with Wolfwood holds a lot of complexity on both sides)... but I have to be real honest with you, I don't think this is one of those times. I disbelieve this was a fully conscious choice on Vash's part.

For one, we've established Vash does not actually want Knives dead. Second... I may just be reading into this too much, but again, there's something in the way the eyes are drawn.

[ID: A set of panels from Trigun Maximum Volume 5. Knives is drawn with an intense expression; he looks confident, but there is a "thump" sound. Knives looks down, brows furrowed and sweating, to see the barrel of Vash's angel arm pointed at his chest. In the last panel, a gap between Knives' fingers reveals one of Vash's eyes, blank and devoid of iris or pupil. End ID.]

I'd initially thought the blank eye thing had to do with the release of Vash's power from the angel arm, but that appears to not be the case. It doesn't coincide with the charging of the arm - the arm is active and charged past the point of no return here with Vash's iris and pupil still visible during Fifth Moon, and we see Vash's eyes blank well before the angel arm forms in Volume 5, when he is undergoing intense flashbacks to the destruction of July. Vash's eyes even go blank when his powers are not active at all - again, during the start of his flashbacks.

[ID: A set of screenshots from the Trigun manga. The first is from Trigun Volume 2. Vash's eye, with iris and pupil and a welling tear, can be seen between Knives' fingers, as Knives screams "Destroy them all! Vaaash!". The second is from Trigun Maximum Volume 5, where Vash is hunched over on the ground as his body sprouts feathers and lines appear on his face. He is in clear distress and his eyes are blank. The third is from Maximum Volume 4. Vash screams and throws his head back. A close up of his eye shows it is blank, welling with tears. End ID.]

I am about 80% confident, give or take, that the blank eye thing pertains to Vash's mental state - as in, how mentally present he is versus him being out of control and checked out of reality. He needs to be snapped out of it - thoughts of Meryl and how she needed help, Elendira's intervention... but there was nothing to snap Vash out of his panic and that flood of raw emotion during July. It was a spur of the moment automatic response - the angel arm is a gun, Vash is very confident with a gun to the point its basically instinct, he's being pinned and trapped and something he doesn't understand and can't control is happening to his own body, people might be about to get hurt - he wanted it to stop.

Unfortunately, the worst possible consequences were a direct result of his desperation. Vash's automatic attempt at self-defense took out an entire city and swallowed all the people within it.

I do think that if it was self-defense over an active choice, the outcome would be pretty much the same and doesn't weaken the scene. For one, this would mark pretty much the only time we see Vash act in close to pure self-defense. He has such a disregard for his own safety, it's incredibly heartbreaking to think that the one time he actually did try to defend himself, it resulted in such a horrible tragedy. It might explain why, after remembering bits and pieces from Fifth Moon onwards, he becomes even less compassionate with himself and even more prone to just... taking the pain. Second, the effect is the same as if Vash chose to fire the arm consciously, because due to Vash's terrible sense of self-worth, self-defense is not a reasonable excuse to him - even though it was a traumatic experience for him, even though he would likely understand someone else in his position, he is going to treat himself as though the blame lies solely on him, regardless of the automaticity of the action itself. Vash blames himself and whether or not the reader determines his actions to have been automatic or conscious, he is going to treat himself the same either way. He is going to forever carry that guilt with him no matter what the intent behind the arm's firing initially was.

With the context of July now, I don't think I can believe that his lack of willingness to kill is purely Rem's influence anymore. I think Vash truly, honestly, does not want to harm or kill anyone; his abhorring of (in his eyes) unnecessary violence is genuine. (This does not mean he never gets angry or hates people - we know he can and does!) But it's like there's a middle step between Vash's anger and Vash getting close to lethally pulling the trigger, and that middle step is "stop it".

Stop doing this. Stop hurting people.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

When faced with someone who wants to hurt others, who actively causes harm and won't listen to reason, Vash becomes dangerously hyper-focused. The closer that person is associated to Knives, the less control he has over his own anger, and the more he goes on the warpath. The problem is though, that Vash has made a promise to Rem, sure, but also he really doesn't want to hurt people, but then he also wants it to stop, and when your options are limited, sometimes the fastest and most effective way to make it stop is... to just kill the person. And I strongly believe this is why, in the heat of the moment, his usual calculated actions become less well thought out and almost vague, because... well... he's fighting with conflicting pieces of himself. His morality and his bleeding heart make him want to spare people, but that explosive aggression that is primarily a trauma symptom (!!!) is demanding he take immediate action to just make it stop.

That's really what it boils down to. All that aggression and emotion comes bubbling out of him, because he's just so tired... and because that's... well. Trauma.

(Yes, I will comment later on how Knives' anger is just as much a trauma response, but I'd like to have a little more info on him before I analyze too much on that front. Kind of fascinating how their go-to reaction is anger for the both of them, but put towards wildly different goals. These twins can fit so much mental illness in them.)

#i don't know if this makes sense anymore. just take it lol #anyways you ever feel sad? i definitely felt completely normal and not at all that way when writing this (sarcasm)#trigun #trimax #trigun meta #vash the stampede #trigunbookclub #call me ace detective the way i am ace. and also a detective.#storyrambles

144 notes · View notes

rotationalsymmetry · 2 months

Text

My immediate thoughts on the ending of the golden enclaves (spoilers):

I'm happy that El finally figured out how to not only accept her allies sticking with her in a crisis, but actually ask them to. Personal growth!

I do not understand the thing with Orion, but whatever, it's a fantasy story, I'll roll with it. In terms of understanding the plot at least. I'm not sure how I feel about "Orion really did have a monster inside of him that could have destroyed everything, but then it got killed and now he's fine." Wut. It helps that he seems to basically be the same person after. If he'd gone through some sort of personality makeover I would have lost it.

I find it hilarious that El was trying to get Orion to face his supposed trauma as a way of avoiding dealing with her own and her mom absolutely caught on to it. Very human.

I think there's something probably deeply symbolic about El combining the three spells there, I'm not up for unpacking it all but including the Scholomance "shelter all the wise-gifted children of the world" thing but making it real very much reminds me of this poem by Langston Hughes. The whole, it wasn't true but it was a good idea so let's make it true. On that note I imagine Orion is thrilled that he gets to stay in his favorite place and do his favorite activity forever. (Or as long as he lives? I'm not sure whether he's going to end up with a normal human lifespan or not.) And he'll get to see his favorite human at least some of the time.

I don't think I mentioned this earlier, but Orion being afraid he'd drain El's mana is more poignant in retrospect. Apparently there was actually a real risk there.

In terms of real world analogs, I think replacing the enclaves with golden stone enclaves works well as a metaphor for "the capitalist system is fucked up, but if you just tear it all down without a replacement, people will die." I know I was cheering for the burn it all down approach earlier, but the book did in fact do a solid job of showing the problems with that. Little 13 or 14 year old coming home from walking her grandmother's dog and everyone's just gone. Ay.

I'm very happy they found a way to cast the spells that do not rely on El having once in a millennium powers. Ideally they'd also find a way to get rid of maw-mouths that doesn't rely on her once a Millenium powers, but whatever.

I probably would have rolled with it if they'd broken the how enclaves are made news to the world and there was some massive outcry, but I do find it satisfyingly realistic that it's not that simple.

I am still confused about the Orion thing. That one kid from Argentina was OK because his shield was still mostly up. Lu was OK (ish) because the spell had been interrupted. But if someone really did have that done to them, before they were even born, that shouldn't actually be survivable, should it? But if Orion didn't survive, he shouldn't have been a person and he was a person. I don't get it. Gah.

Complaints aside, the ending does work for me. I'm buying it. I'm enjoying El eating edamame with Orion and having birds and butterflies in place of falling snake-things and finally admitting something is nice (personal growth). And it does feel like she's not entirely happy yet, she's not entirely content yet, but she wants to be and she's moving in that direction. I think she's getting there.

And I'm glad El got to reunite with her father's family. I wouldn't blame her if she never forgave Deepthi. But I think it's cool she did, and it really does sound like there weren't better options.

Speaking of lack of better options, it's aggravating that Ophelia made Domina, but...it's consistent with the book's themes that that happened and it doesn't prevent the happy ending. It's not about taking down a specific bad guy, or bad woman as the case may be. It's dealing with systemic bullshit, and actually El can do that without taking Ophelia out. Nice parallel to Liesel letting go of her revenge quest too.

I figure there's a much longer thing to be written about pacifism and themes in the scholomance, but for now: sometimes people get this weird idea that anyone committed to non-violence or anything similar, like not seeking revenge, must have had an incredibly sheltered life with no real problems. Anyways. El is definitely not that. She did have an especially kind mother, but that mother also didn't have a particularly sheltered life and she chose that path anyways. I approve of that narrative choice. (And it doesn't feel like it's floating out in nowhere either. It's grounded, like Avatar the Last Airbender is grounded, in showing all the characters as people. In ATLA, people in the Fire Nation are people, farmers and criminals and guerrilla fighters and soldiers are people, Ozai is a massive dick with an appalling absence of checks on his power but he's still a person. And every time El doesn't like someone, because of their privilege or because they're a jerk, she ends up seeing a different side of them, a way that they're vulnerable or have been hurt, a generous and giving or heroic side to them. Everyone gets to be a person. We don't see enough behind Ophelia's mask I think to really see what kind of person she is (we see more of what's his name, Shanghai Guy's) but we can reasonably assume that she is a person whose motives at least make sense to her.

#the golden enclaves #the scholomance

18 notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 2 years

Text

imminent danger, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook? Shh, not too loud... from that sex blog, right? Uh huh. Heard he was actually a reader first, and then he slid into those DMs, one thing lead to another... So brave... ugh, he's so hot, she's so hot, they're so sexy together... and they make all that content to get off to... eh? Wait, they're live today?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; sex workers!couple: JK and his internet porn writer!gf doing their monthly OnlyFans livestream; low-key crack, we are in JK's brain; smut (fem reader, all the dirty thoughts, filming of sex, exhibitionist kink, mirror kink, noona kink, teeny bit of humiliation kink, pet name (bunbun), body oil / lube(?) being poured all over, hair pulling, handjob / edging / cumming in pants, overstimulation, use of anal beads, m-masturbation, light spanking); non-idol!BTS - sub!JK x noona, dom!reader; Jungkook's POV; JK's appearance based on 'Proof' Weverse mag photoshoot

this is basically wiyllt x JK's joint OnlyFans and JK is the star of the show

“Noona, um…”

“Hello, is this thing on? Ah, it is.”

Jeon Jungkook was highly aware of the imminent danger but also the imminent danger was incredibly hot and incredibly bangable. Both things he was totally into. What was a little bit of danger, eh? Other than this turning rapidly into the intro of a porn movie.

Because that was what it was.

A porn movie.

Well, it was going to be one, if he stopped squirming.

Did he mention that his girl wrote incredible porn and that was how he got into this situation? No? Oh. Well, did he also mention that she was in charge of his current, um, work? As in he definitely wasn’t going to do any of this without her right here ripping open his fashionably (tacky? Jungkook had no clue, clothes outside of sweat sets were not his forte) leopard dress shirt and–

“Gah! Why is that so cold?!”

Uh, what the, she was spreading whatever it was over his chest and nipples. Some kind of cold, slippery… something. Liquid. It made him shiver all over.

“Oh, good, that does half of the work for me.”

She stepped around his seated body, which honestly upset him, because she was wearing such a revealing, blood-red, satin minidress that he wanted to continue staring at – yes, he could see the two tents that her large, stimulated nipples formed and it was very sexy, he wanted to nom very badly – but, alas, he was forced to avoid making any ugly, uncomfortable, or displeased expressions as she turned his torso into the equivalent of melted butter on a loaf of uncooked bread about to go into the oven, except Jungkook was not a loaf of uncooked bread, he was a horny man trying to look at titty and shove his dick between those deliciously soft thighs.

He was baking under these big studio lights though, jeez.

“Noona, wait–”

“Look up. Don’t disappoint them.”

And suddenly a hand gripped his hair and yanked his head up, making him gasp and shudder, his wide eyes going straight to the camera lens and the monitor displaying, er… well, everything.

Jungkook tried not to moan.

His boss scolded him before that giving too much too early was bad for business.

His boss being the owner of that pretty hand tangled in his black hair. Nails done, as usual. She always had a nice, self-done manicure, usually in a dark color. It was summertime, so she was branching out to a bright, cherry-red jelly that made Jungkook want to devour those almond-shaped tips. He especially liked it when she fingered his mouth, especially when he could be extra messy, when his tongue would snake and slip between her knuckles, coating them with saliva, letting it carelessly stream down her palm, his chin, his neck, all of it on full display, front and center to the camera.

Oop, he was getting distracted.

Speaking of mouth, his was slightly open, rose-pink lips and polished silver lip ring, the moles on his nose and under his lower lip visible. She was always super careful when she applied his makeup. Eye makeup and lip color for contrast, she reminded him. Otherwise, your handsome features don’t show up well in film. She covered the few occasional blemishes, but tried not to alter his skin tone too much, leaving his beauty marks.

Things usually got messy anyway. Face makeup getting everywhere wasn’t very sexy.

Oh, yeah, and she liked his moles.

A lot.

So, anyway, Jungkook was staring at himself in the monitor, his large brown eyes emphasized even further with smoky liner and filled-in brows, his mouth open and trying not to make too much noise as his silky, flimsy leopard shirt did nothing to stop her exploring hand from sliding across his tan, muscular chest, cherry-red nails circling and teasing his dark, hard nipples, his skin glistening and shiny under the bright lights from the mysterious, slightly viscous liquid.

Her plush mauve lips were by the top is his head, openly smirking.

“I thought you knew about body oil, Jungkook,” she chuckled above him.

“Are you…”

He cut himself off, twisting slightly and biting back a groan, letting out an unfortunate miniature whimper instead, great, just great, and she was opening his shirt more, down his right shoulder and massaging his shoulder tattoo and upper arm, bringing out the intricate details of the petal-like mandala.

“Serious?”

To be honest, Jungkook didn’t care what the stuff was. What was really bothering him was that she was almost scratching him, but not putting enough pressure. He kept trying to raise his torso, and she kept flicking her nails up, using her grip on his hair to push him back down. Strands of black were falling over his forehead and eyes, giving him a roguish, distressed appearance. Not too unlike his usual self. Jungkook left the acting to the professionals.

He was just professionally horny.

Was honestly incredibly easy in her presence. Who would have guessed? Did he mention that he met her through her smut blog? Yeah, Jungkook read smut online (he wasn’t going to read a whole book for one subpar sex scene, come on now).

It was a long story.

No, literally, it was a long story about a trio doing some freaky stuff that involved gummy bears.

There was actually a lot more involved in said story, but never mind that. The point was that, in the past, he was reading porn on the internet and feeling things. What does one do when they read porn and feel things? Ah, yes, chase their dreams. Jungkook had felt the need to chase his dreams.

Which meant read more porn.

Again, professional horny here.

He figured that it couldn’t hurt to say something. Slide in real smooth into those DMs. Heaven knew it was a hell of a lot easier to be cool, calm, and collected over text than in person. He didn’t have to be weird about it. He was just gonna pick that brain a little, bask in the sexual prowess. Not accidentally show her his Instagram, not somehow get convinced into sending a personal photo, not get so enamored over pretty words to impulsively send an almost-nude (oop), and then an actual nude (his mother wouldn’t approve), then somehow meeting up with internet smut writer and getting actual nude (together, in private, he had not much but some shame in the first in-person encounter).

So.

Yeah.

Jungkook and his noona were the very definition of, that escalated quickly, and some small part of him was thinking that maybe he should calm down, but now that most of him was getting the best, most passionate kisses ever (to both heads from two different kinds of lips, nice), he didn’t mind all that much. His pecs presently being oiled up on a secret livestream to paying customers was simply the natural progression of things.

Yup.

For sure.

He gasped as his shirt was yanked out of his pants, the sides being thrown open rather prettily (she thought of every detail, in story and on film, and all of it was making him very horny, per usual), and her arms snaked out from behind his shoulders, pouring the liquid from a small, unmarked plastic bottle, splashing down his chest and soaking the crotch of his thin pants. He had questioned earlier why he was wearing such brightly-colored, clingy fabric. Sure, it would show up nicely against the black metal of the chair and show off his muscular thighs, but now the why was blaringly obvious. The fabric darkened in the places it was drenched, sticking to his strained inner thighs and bulging erection.

She always scolded him not to look at the monitor, so instead he looked at the big mirror behind the camera.

Did he mention that his number of kinks was getting out of control?

His eyes followed her movement – her fingers sliding down his abs, toying with the waistband of his pants, not going under, denying him and putting on a show. Indeed, she reached down there to compare her hand size to the massive tent in his pants. Pretty impressive, per usual (she said that a lot and Jungkook would be lying if he said that it didn’t massively stroke his... ego).

She spread her index and middle finger and pressed down on his crotch, molding the wet fabric right to his poor, enclosed dick.

Jungkook moaned, wincing slightly at the uncomfortable, squishy sensation of the fabric stretching over the sensitive head of his cock. Hell no, he wasn’t wearing underwear. Jungkook was making porn. What did he need underwear for? (His mom would not approve, but thankfully his mom had no idea he was making porn and he was not planning on having that talk, ever.) It still felt good, though. Anything she did felt good, even the slight rocking of her fingers that made his stiff length sway from side to side, sending sparks of pleasure radiating down every centimeter.

Those cherry-red nails lifted and plucked at the wet, clingy fabric carefully. It puckered and shrunk, creating wrinkles and snapping back to mold entirely around his embarrassingly hard, currently colorful, joystick.

He read that in the comment once and thought it was hilarious.

With a start, Jungkook realized she had used the handheld remote to zoom in on his crotch and abs. She had attached a handy little leather pocket to the back of the chair. Movie magic, she called it. Mary Poppin’s bag of horny horrors, Jungkook called it, because usually it contained very naughty things that fed his kinks.

His cock twitched in the monitor, standing up straighter, filling up the majority of the shot.

He could feel his face burn. At least no one was seeing that.

Yet.

“Look at this pretty dick, everyone. So big and thick because he’s on camera for you.”

Her fingers wrapped around his girth and smoothed out the wrinkles, spreading the fabric taut and adding more mysterious slick clear liquid that was not body oil, Jungkook was sure of it now, but he was too busy squirming and choking back his whimpers, watching his balls and dick get cocooned by a thin layer of damp, shiny, colorful silk, displaying the shape so obviously that it left very little to the imagination except the actual color of his skin which was probably dark red, considering she was teasing the throbbing head with her fingertips now, mashing the sodden fabric against the slit.

His whole body was shimmering with pleasure.

It was so very difficult trying to be a good boy.

Gasping shivers leaked out of his mouth for all the watchers to hear. He gripped the sides of the chair and tried to remain still. Jungkook didn’t want the picture to get blurry after all, but it was feeling so fucking good and he was trying to bottle up the extra mortifying noises. Doing both was proving to be the struggle.

He was losing the battle.

He tipped his head back and lewdly moaned like a man possessed by a succubus.

Not totally wrong. Jungkook was pretty sure his noona was turning him into a massive (maybe slightly narcissistic) pervert, bombarding him with his kinks and ushering him into the development of new ones. She was very enthusiastic about it and it was infectious. Also, deep down, Jungkook was a showman (maybe the greatest). The first time of let’s film ourselves was just for them. A little fun. He liked watching it back. She wrote about it. People seemed to really like it. Do you really do that? She teased him about it. He got annoyed and took a picture to get her back. A little peek at the inside of his shirt. He sent it anonymously to the blog, only to rile her up.

He expected her to delete it.

She replied to it with the caption, my partner in crime.

Jungkook nearly threw his phone into the next dimension in complete and utter shock when he saw it (in public, no less, he lived on the edge). He didn’t, because he needed it to read her porn and to contact her to, erm, make their personal porn.

“Noona! How could you! That’s private!”

“Of course, it is. That’s why they have to pay if they want any more.”

A joke at the time, but…

Again.

That escalated quickly.

Now Jungkook was trembling as he slowly, wetly humped her closed hand, thighs tense, the seat slick under him. Their monthly live play for their highest tier members. He would edit the VOD for later purchase. Attendees received a discount code to access it.

Er. Yeah. Jungkook edited it.

For…

Personal reasons.

Sometimes it took him a while.

Did he mention that he was a video editor? Oh. Right, his day job. He did have some life skills unrelated to sexual acts. He could wash dishes very well too. Excellent at doing laundry. His noona always praised him for his housework.

He liked that.

A lot.

“P-Please…”

Her hand closed a little tighter, taking over the pace. His torso rippled, soft whimpers of want drifting out from his parted lips.

“What do you think, chat? Should I edge him or let him finish in his pants?”

Jungkook felt his shoulder blades hit the chair but he was too busy thinking of the merits of both and watching his cock jerk in her hand. They loved the frustration. He hated the denial and therefore loved it. If he came in his pants, she would peel them off and show the viewers the mess he made. Equally sexy and crazy hot. He was passing out just thinking about it, on cloud nine from her suggestions and the steady, public jacking off.

Couple years ago, Jungkook would have been absolutely against such absurdity (but secretly horny about it, what, he was who he was), but it only took some reading (who would have guessed, not him), a little idea fed by some other avid readers (secret sluts, all of them, he was convinced of it, but he liked it, great minds think alike), and some very convincing, somewhat sly, overwhelmingly sexy persuasion from his favorite mouth (noona, obviously), then, well, fine, Jungkook was easy when it came to her, he could admit it, but she was easy when it came to him too, so the feeling was mutual.

He tilted his head back to look at her, vaguely aware she was zooming out slightly to show off his disheveled, borderline desperate expression.

“Noona, p-please don’t…”

She smiled at him, dainty torture.

He didn’t really mean it, but he couldn’t act easy even if he was.

“How’s this, I edge you first and then I make you cum after you show us how it feels?” she purred dangerously.

She opened her mouth just a little, the tip of her tongue dancing between plush mauve lips.

I hope I die with her pussy on my face and her mouth on my dick. We can definitely find some Viagra in the old people home. Or the hospital. Wherever we end up.

One would think that contemplating his mortality with a death sixty-nine would ruin his boner, but it did not. Jungkook did, however, have to bite his lip very hard so he didn’t crack up randomly in the middle of the moment. That was not the vibe.

“D-Don’t do that, please, I’ve been good…” he managed to get out, leaning his head back and looking up at her so only she could see his eyes. She could tell instantly that he was trying not to laugh. Her eyes narrowed, a wordless, the fuck are you thinking about, but it was her job to bring him back to the moment.

“What’s that, bunbun? You want them to watch your face as I tease you?”

Ah, yes, exactly what he needed.

One thing that slightly disappointed Jungkook when they had first met was that she confirmed that she didn’t like pet names. While he could admit the basic ones were rather weak and not very creative, he still wanted a little something between them. He liked the idea of pet names being a shared secret between him and his lover, but, no, she remained firm, you can call me ‘love’, but that’s it, I don’t like the other stuff, oh, okay, so he stuck with being annoying and making her laugh with his facial expressions while washing dishes. But then came Halloween, and it was dress up time. They were discussing with the live chat on what ears he should wear (of course, he had to wear the ears but he wasn’t complaining, fluffy animal ears were cute), and they narrowed it down to dog ears or bunny ears, letting their fans decide.

“But I wanna be a Maltese. Don’t I suit a dog more? Woof!”

Jungkook thought his barking was very convincing.

“I don’t know, I think you suit a bunny quite well,” she had said, tucking his hair behind his ear and letting her fingertips linger on his earrings, making him visibly shiver with pleasure. He learned to love it when she showed him public affection (read: get horny). “What do you think, chat? Helpless little Jungkookie unable to escape from my naughty traps. Silly bunbun, you walked in there all alone, knowing you would be trapped by all those ropes, but don’t worry, it will be a very fun playtime.”

Yes, the bunny ears won by a long shot, but Jungkook was not even mad about it. He put on those long white ears and posed like the caught bunny he was.

Tied-up, blindfolded, and with a fluffy cottontail buttplug.

Happy Halloween, right?

Maybe Jungkook should have felt ashamed about it, but that was the least risqué thing he did in these bunny ears, so, uh, yeah.

Anyway, she started calling him bunbun every once in a while, and it got him every time. So was the current action of pouring more slippery stuff on his hard, pants-covered dick, but, hold on a sec, it was feeling a little tingly there. A bit hot and cold, what the–

“Oooh, fuck!”

She wrapped her fingers around his cock and then he really felt it, a whole lot of what-the-fuck-is-going-on, even though he had a vague idea of what was happening, but, nope, that was impossible to concentrate on. His entire length felt like it was on the seesaw of sensations between hot and cold, between tingly and holy shit (yes, that was a feeling, he decided that right now), and it traveled throughout his whole body, down his legs and up his spine, to his shaking arms and rapidly falling shirt that he had completely forgotten about, leaving him shirtless, wretchedly moaning, and clutching the sides of the chair so hard that his knuckles were white. Fast, slick, tight pace, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, it was dripping down to his balls, slipping into the crack of his ass, and his eyes were rolling back, lost in the agonizing prickling pleasure. He had to lock his knees so he wouldn’t fall, it took everything in him not to fall, the hot-cold tingling crazy unbearable but so, so good.

Surely, he was getting bamboozled by this “body oil” business, but right now Jungkook did not give a flying fuck.

“Please don’t stop, please, noona, I’m begging you, please, please, please…”

She tilted her grip and the tight ring of her fingers began to rub against the underside of the head. Sloppy, squelchy pops with each stroke, creating the sound effect of fucking a wet hole instead of her hand, and his brain just had to conjure the picture of her spread ass and pussy, the kind of image where he was below her and she was spreading those juicy ass cheeks for him, strong muscles flexing and not letting him touch, making everything so much better and so much worse.

Yes, at this point, his brain could sexually torture him without warning.

Jungkook could say he didn’t like it, but that would be lying and he was not a liar. Also, he was a little bit of a masochist. Whoops.

She stopped, squeezing the head brutally.

“Mmmm, no, p-please, no…!”

Without realizing it, his head had fallen down, spotting himself in the mirror. His black hair a complete wreck, bright brown eyes shiny with need, unclutching one hand to grab the hem of her short dress and tugging on it, ruining himself even more with the image of slinky fabric pressed into juicy curves, the denied high coursing through him in maddening throbs, nerves ferociously firing, expecting something more, but there was nothing, nothing, just his poor cock crying out tears of pre-cum and soaking into the mess of his pants that surely would not be worn again, especially after he was about to orgasm in them.

And people were watching.

He could see himself in the mirror.

So good, ugh, all of it making him so aroused that he felt lightheaded. No choking needed (but he would never say no to a little throat hug from those pretty hands). His trapped erection was twitching. He was doing that. Putting on a show. He could feel it too, the wet silky fabric stretching and applying threads of faint pleasure from the pressure, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted more.

He needed more.

Jungkook craved more, craved to show what he could do, what he could take. Wanted her to pose him, use him, display him like her most prized, most beautiful, personal sex toy.

“N-Noona…”

Her hand came back, drenched again with the tingly liquid, massaging the engorged tip, and he moaned, low and wanton, drunk on the moment, his legs falling even more open and rolling his hips into her palm, spreading it, watching himself, so slippery and so shiny, so many lights and a camera capturing his filthy actions, dirty bunbun, she murmured under her breath, and Jungkook vainly wished that he could be unaffected but he was not, too many naughty nights and soft coos of dirty bunbun turning him into a complete and utter slut for every orifice, every touch, every smirk from this one woman. He was just a complete hot mess of glistening chest, hard nipples, and silk pants molded to his dick, trying to catch his breath so he could beg.

“Wanna cum in your pants, Jungkook?”

“Y-Yes, please...”

“Wanna show our friends how much of a good boy you are?”

Was she going to make him cry for it or what? Jungkook found that he didn’t care.

“Y-Yes, noona…” he gasped out tearily as he felt her pour more liquid. She spread it over his inner thighs and balls with her free hand, still teasing his abused cock with the other. Then she tilted her body as she kneeled, letting the camera have full access to his. Wound her left hand around his length as the right continued stimulating the head. She got a little closer, and, oh, wow, he could hear the obscene sounds through the mic pinned to her dress, louder and heavier – his ragged breathing, wet-on-wet, and she was going to make him cum and then squish it against his cock, cover him in it like the dirty bunbun he was.

And he could look into the camera lens and see himself in the mirror behind it.

Dark brown eyes glazed over, biting his lower lip, tiny mole and silver ring flashing, whole chest tense and glistening muscles bulging from his effort to stay still, defenseless as his cock was being pumped at a firm, steady pace at the same time the head was being rubbed, knowing there was at least a couple hundred, maybe even a thousand, viewers watching him get wrecked right now, eagerly listening to his building whines and sloppy sounds, and he was going insane, letting himself think, I’m just your toy, noona, please play with me, at the mercy of her touch, in the headspace where he believed that he couldn’t do anything to stop the maddeningly slow, insistent touch, so helpless, trapped by his own free will, nothing more than a pretty plaything.

Jungkook did think he was a very handsome, sexy, pretty plaything.

What?

He was looking at his reflection, after all.

“A-a-ah, I’m g-gonna cum… fuck!”

The watchers couldn’t see, of course, so he had to say it, and that required him to unlatch his lower lip, letting out an embarrassing string of moans and cries, his shoulders flinching as he came, head falling back, mouth open, powerfully jerking his hips with every spurt that creamed down his twitching length, only for to be squelched back onto sensitive skin. Pathetic whines ricocheted through his lungs, tingly and warm and sticky and slick, his orgasm squished against his balls, his cock, his pants, the sound so vulgar, so nasty, so fucking sexy that he felt more dribble out of him, stuck to the silk, then unstuck and molding back in place, the mixing liquids attracted to each other, sucking it back against hot, shivering skin and coating him with his own cum.

He was a good boy.

He couldn’t face the audience right now, but he obediently lifted his trembling hips as she peeled his pants off, glancing down, oh, what a delicious mess, strings of cum and lube clinging to his thighs and purple-red cock, and Jungkook shuddered, addicted to the sight and her smearing his release onto his skin, covering him with it.

She tugged his pants off and nudged his leg.

“Show them.”

He should have been ashamed, but he unashamedly liked it, adjusting his trembling legs on the seat and kneeling on it, placing his hands on the back of the chair to put his crotch on full display, dripping softening cock and all.

Jungkook gasped as he felt his soiled pants smear against his cheek, wiping the strong scent of salty cum onto his face. Marking him. Viewers couldn’t take screenshots on this platform, but Jungkook was sure that people were going to the pause on the later uploaded VOD here, right here, at his sweaty black hair covering half his face, his panting mouth, and glossy naked body, just to gaze at him in sheer awe of how astoundingly filthy he was.

Get off to it.

He was going to, that was for sure.

She leaned over and licked his cum-covered cheek.

He moaned deep in his chest, crumpling a little.

Jungkook was weak when it came to her, after all.

She backed up and let him have a moment to the camera, still semi-hard because he knew it was still on. He thought about it, touching himself, but there were no free shows. He remembered and he was a good bunbun. He dared not mess with the plan, whatever that was. Jungkook never asked to know it. He liked the surprise, the thrill.

He did have a safe word, but he never found himself using it.

“Now, a little more lube, and we’ll shove something cute in that tight little asshole of yours.”

He nearly shot off his seat, except he couldn’t because it was slippery as fuck.

“N-Noona!”

Her tone was bright and cheerful. Sing-song-y, even.

“Sorry, all, please stand by.”

She pressed a button and the monitor changed to a cute tune with a colorful stand by for technical difficulties screen. In the bottom right corner was a small animation of his chibi self in bunny ears creating a little dust cloud in his work. Clearly working hard.

His current self was falling out of the chair.

“Please, wait, let’s t-talk about this–”

“Do you want the bigger one or the vibrator?”

“… D-Don’t make me choose, p-please…!”

“Or the beads, I haven’t popped beads out of your ass in a while,” she suddenly said, and Jungkook was screwed (in multiple ways), seeing the string of sizable purple anal beads curled around her pretty hand and entranced by her dirty words like he was caught in a magic spell. “You jack yourself off as I pull the beads out one by one, and we can listen to you count. If you miss one, I’ll push it back in so you can get it right.”

Which was why, after a readjusted camera angle and eagerly whimpering as she lubed him up and stuffed him, Jungkook was on his knees with his ass in the air, deliberating missing numbers so he could feel the sensation of the anal beads being shoved back in and out of his glistening asshole. He was using a copiously disconcerting amount of lube to masturbate so the sound was extra messy and extra loud. He wanted everyone to hear. His face was half-pressed to the floor, craning his head to watch himself cry out in the mirror.

It didn’t take him very long, which was disappointing, but it was very satisfying to watch.

He held out for as long as he could, even stopping his own movements and playing up his helplessness to get a few stinging slaps to his ass, getting it nice and red. He was scolded, as he should be. Bad bunbun. It made his overstimulated cock throb, pre-cum gleaming off the abused, purple-red tip. All the beads were jammed back in, filling up and stretching out his tight little hole, starting the cycle once more.

She poured more of that tingly hot-cold lube back onto his asshole and balls, teasing the space between them with her nails. Fuck, it was so good, he wanted to melt into the floor, rocking his hips in the air at the uncontrollable ecstasy. He pleaded despairingly, assuring her and the watchers that he’d be a good bunbun, he would. She hummed doubtfully, but began to pull out the beads again, forcing him to count each one, loudly.

Jungkook really tried to get to seven.

He really did.

He got to four and came all over the floor in a wrecked, fucked-out gasp, streaming cum onto the hardwood and making another mess. Felt his hips shake and the string of anal beads hang, because of course she left them there, a naughty tail of shame as she gripped his arms and forced him up, the lubed-up plastic balls hitting her thigh as he barely rested on her lap, not putting any of his weight on her, whimpering as she grabbed his chin and dragged him down to the camera.

“T-Thanks for watching…” he barely managed to choke out as she tucked part of his hair back, rubbing the side of his lip with her fingers, creating another mess of his cheek.

He was aware that maybe he should have looked a little pathetic. Ashamed at being used. At least some discomfort for his sore dick from multiple orgasms, oversensitivity, and freaking anal beads still sticking out of his ass.

Nope.

Jungkook smirked mischievously at the camera as she turned off the livestream.

“Noona.”

“Yup.”

“You can’t just put anal beads in my ass when I’m lust-drunk.”

“I think I can.”

He puffed his cheeks. “Noona…”

“What a cute pout.” She traced it, toying with his lower lip with her cherry-red nail. “I love it.”

He pursed his lips and made a show of it. Made her chase it a little, and then she planted her nail on his underlip mole, poking him lightly before leaning in, stealing a kiss. Imminent danger shouldn’t be so incredibly hot and so incredibly bangable.

It was not okay.

Unfair.

Not allowed.

There were more words for it, but Jungkook couldn’t think of any right now, words tumbling out of his head because of those dancing kisses and flickers of tongue, chasing them, chasing those plush mauve lips, that sly smirk, and that devious mind that held all these plans about all the dirty things that he could do. And he could do a lot of them. Jungkook liked challenges. It was pretty dangerous, pestering her to tell him what else she was thinking about, but Jungkook knew all about danger, and he liked danger.

“I love you.”

He loved his noona most of all though.

“I love you, Jungkook.”

To think this all came form a quiet little smut blog.

Heh.

part ii halloween special

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

339 notes · View notes

missingn000 · 1 year

Note

not tpg speaking or anything but i wanna know your honest thoughts about toji 🤔

oh man, where do i even start with this. it's a great question! honestly...i have a lot of thoughts about canon toji, not all of which are coherent, but here's what comes to mind first.

toji is largely a product of circumstances -- the awful abuse by the zen'in clan, being cast out by society, straying from his path then finding his way again by marrying mamaguro, then losing her and essentially forfeiting all hope. i do think he loved megumi, but not in any way that actually helped him, or any way he truly showed. he wanted megumi to have a better life than him, but the way he went about it (trying to sell his son into the SAME SYSTEM that fucked him up) was clearly an awful choice.

what people often don't discuss is that toji had agency. yes, his circumstances were horrible, and a lot of his mentality was shaped by abuse and trauma. but in the end, it was his choice to become a hitman who didn't ask questions, and to abandon his family after the death of his first wife. there's a quote i always think of when analyzing characters like him: "bad circumstances explain bad behavior, but they don't excuse it." he undeniably could have made better choices. look at maki! though their circumstances were a bit different, they still were at the bottom of the barrel of the zen'in clan and horribly mistreated. but maki emancipated herself from that and chose to channel her spite into becoming strong in a profession that helps others, while toji chose the opposite.

toji is one of my favorite characters because he's just so interesting. there's so much about him to analyze. that scene in shibuya where he stabs himself in the head to avoid hurting megumi wrecked me beyond all imagination. his last words were so significant: "not zen'in, huh? good for you." what's important to notice is this: at that time, he had no idea that his sale of megumi to the zen'in clan hadn't gone through. it's probably impossible to say he knew that gojo, a kid he'd known for like, 15 minutes solely through a death fight, would actually end up adopting and protecting his son.

it's very indicative of their relationship overall. toji was glad megumi didn't turn out like him -- not because of toji, but in spite of him. he knew he failed megumi, and tsumiki too. stopping his largely uncontrollable body from hurting his son by taking his own life proves it. he couldn't be there for megumi, but at the very least he didn't want to take megumi down with him, in a physical and metaphorical sense.

tl;dr: toji deserved better, but it was partially his own choice that he never attained that. megumi got the father he was meant to have, and it wasn't toji. it could've been, in another life. but not this one.

wow this was rambly lol. i have many more thoughts i'm sure i'm leaving out. there's a whole possibility to analyze the toji vs gojo fight, toji's disregard of riko's life and his lack of compassion towards her also not having a choice in her fate, his spite towards gojo and wanting to overcome it for his pride, thus putting his pride over everything he'd tried to break away from. exploring his character and what could've been through tpg has been one of my favorite projects i've ever pursued in my life. i just. GAH. okay. im gonna lie down

#toji...[stares out the window]

14 notes · View notes

banduckoot · 1 year

Note

Hello interested Anon from time. Thanks for answering my ask, I love the idea of Nastia and I hope we hear more about her and her past, and maybe her future? Would there be any chance that she could return in some form? (Crash is a world with ghosts/spirits, magic and time travel after all) See her reaction to everything that happened after her death - seeing what Cortex and Nina are like now, meeting her bandicoot (step?) children and perhaps telling Nina the truth...

I think bringing Nastia back as a ghost MIGHT be interesting. Though, knowing Cortex, he'd probably want to use mad science to bring her back from the dead, or give her a new body to inhabit.

Hell, he could probably build a robot body for her to possess, kind of like how Mettaton from Undertale got his start. Cortex has made androids and gynoids before in the form of the Lab Assistants, so making a new body for his deceased beloved wouldn't be beyond reason for him.

But I digress... Nina would likely be furious with Cortex for not telling her the truth. Nastia would probably be horrified that Cortex cut Nina's hands off, too. Things definitely wouldn't be all sunshine and rainbows if Nastia returned... but I have a feeling, with time, they do eventually forgive him.

Meeting Crash and Coco and the other mutants would be rather interesting because, even though Nastia wouldn't like that Cortex performed cruel experiments on them, she would be fascinated by them. Once she figures out Crash is basically a son to Cortex, she'd act motherly towards Crash and Coco... much to Cortex's chagrin, since we all know how he pretends he doesn't care when he really does...

You know what, I'd really like to explore this whole potential "Nina's mother returns" arc. I just wonder what would summon her spirit to this mortal plane again in the first place... maybe Nina uses a Ouija board and some candles, plus some of Uka Uka's mojo magic.

... YO, imagine of Nina tried summoning her mother's spirit, but Nastia's all fucked up and spooky because of Uka Uka's bad mojo, so they have to find a way to fix her while avoiding getting killed by an angry and confused Nastia. They manage to cleanse the bad mojo, she becomes a normal ghost, and just as that happens, Cortex sees her, recognizes her, and starts crying. Nastia is just as emotional to see Cortex. Nina's confused by how close her mom apparently is to Cortex, and reacts with pure disbelief when she finds out the two of them almost married each other years ago.

GAH IF I HAD THE PATIENCE I'D WRITE A WHOLE FANFIC

WHY DO I NOT HAVE THE MOTIVATION IT'S SO NOT FAIR I HATE HAVING EXECUTIVE DYSFUNCTION

#crash bandicoot #dr neo cortex #nina cortex #crash bandicoot oc #fan character #ask

7 notes · View notes

thelastspeecher · 2 years

Text

I made a post earlier today saying I was still thinking about the Firefighter AU but all out of writing juice. Turns out that was a LIE because after making that post I went and wrote some more. Here ya go.

———————————————————————————————————–

Fiddleford’s whistling carried to where Ford was sitting at the kitchen table. Ford dropped his pen and stretched, taking the opportunity to get out of the pose he’d sat in for the last few hours.

“F?” he called.

“That’s me,” Fiddleford replied. “Where are ya?”

“The kitchen.”

“Great!” Footsteps sounded. After a few moments, Fiddleford appeared in the kitchen entryway, still wearing his suit. “When I left, you were sittin’ there. Have ya moved from that spot once in all the time I was gone?” Fiddleford asked.

“To be fair, you were only gone for a few hours.”

“Only a few hours, he says,” Fiddleford muttered under his breath.

“Why are you back so soon? Even for a noon wedding you seem to have left rather early.”

“Oh, the reception don’t start fer a bit. I wanted to duck away and check in on ya.”

“Shouldn’t you be helping to keep things running smoothly, as the brother of the bride?”

“One of the brothers of the bride. Don’t forget, Angie’s got four of us. And a sister.” Fiddleford grinned cheekily. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were tryin’ to get rid of me.”

“No, of course not. I just don’t want you to shirk your duties in favor of watching over me. I’d hate for the fire chief to be upset with me, given how frequently she has to send her workers here.”

“Angie actually encouraged me to check on ya. She wanted to make sure ya weren’t goin’ to be settin’ any fires on her big day.” Fiddleford leaned against the wall idly. “Speakin’ of the frequent fires, I almost gave her a lil punch card as a weddin’ gift. Fer every ten fires they have to handle here, she gets a free sandwich or somethin’.” Ford snorted. “But nah, I went with somethin’ nice from their registry. I put both our names on it.”

“Both? Why?”

“I know yer on the rocks with yer twin, and it’s mighty bad if ya weren’t invited to his weddin’, but I figured a gift might improve yer standin’ with him.”

“Wait a moment.”

“Hmm?”

“Who is Angie marrying?” Ford asked slowly. Fiddleford facepalmed. “It isn’t Stan, is it?”

“How- how did ya not know that?” Fiddleford demanded. “How-” He kneaded his forehead. “Stanford Filbrick Pines!”

“I wasn’t invited!”

“No, but I’ve had the invitation up on the fridge fer months.”

“Ah, well, that’s the problem. Once something is put on the fridge, it sort of melds together with everything else to me. I don’t really notice individual items.”

“Lord above.”

“But- Stan’s marrying Angie?”

“Married, now. The ceremony just ended. I’ve got some time ‘fore the reception starts.” Fiddleford crossed his arms. “Ya really had no idea they were engaged?”

“I was unaware they were even dating!”

“Stanford!”

“Any time Stan comes to our house to put out a fire, he refuses to speak with me. When Angie visits, which is rare, she primarily talks to you and avoids conversing with me about more than the weather or current events. How am I supposed to know they were engaged to be wed?”

“Because the invitation I got was on the fridge!”

“I already told you why that is an ineffective route of communication for me.”

“Gah!” Fiddleford tugged on his hair. “Ya test me every day, Stanford Pines.”

“I do find it odd that Angie and Stan are a couple,” Ford mused, “given that Angie is Stan’s superior. Isn’t that frowned upon? It may even be an offense one would be fired over.”

“The rules in Gravity Falls are dif’rent. Angie makes sure to keep everything above board and HR keeps an eye on things just in case. It’s fine. They’ve been datin’ fer a coupla years now and haven’t had any problems.”

“Really? That long?” Ford frowned thoughtfully. “It really is rather odd I was so unaware.”

“That’s what I’ve been sayin’!” Fiddleford shook his head. “Well, at least ya know now.”

“Yes.”

“Hopefully you ‘n Stan can bury the hatchet in time to meet yer future nieces and nephews.” Ford’s head whipped up to stare at Fiddleford. “They ain’t expectin’ now. But they’ve made it very clear that they’re eager to start a fam’ly.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. Stan’s wanted to be a father since we were children,” Ford said quietly. Fiddleford looked down at his wristwatch.

“I better get goin’. Try to eat somethin’ of substance and drink somethin’ other than coffee while I’m gone?”

“Perhaps,” Ford said evasively. Fiddleford rolled his eyes. “Have fun partying with our siblings.”

“I will.” Fiddleford left the kitchen. Ford turned back to his equations, but couldn’t focus. He looked over at the fridge. Sure enough, the invitation was hung up with a magnet in the shape of a water molecule. Ford stared at the picture of Stan and Angie smiling from the fridge door.

I have excuses for not knowing. So why does it still feel wrong?

#Firefighter AU #Stanford Pines #Fiddleford McGucket #my writing #ficlet #speecher speaks

11 notes · View notes

three--rings · 2 years

Text

The Devil Judge ep 12

I’ve been slightly busy with other stuff and avoiding this, slightly not wanting to face the end of the show.

It’s pretty obvious things aren’t going to End Well, really. But anyway, these are mid-ep thoughts so I don’t forget what I want to say.

So about Yan Su Hyeon, I really just want to shake her because I feel like the show is sorta lauditory about her devotion for Ga On, but like, in no way is that a healthy way to live your life. You’ve based your entire life around this one dude, a dude who has rejected you over and over again. And then when he is growing apart from you, you want to insert yourself into his business and threaten fucking Kang Yo Han, which is a terrible idea from any angle.

And like omg the shippy and angsty potential of all these scenes with Yo Han and Ga On cause like the hand on the arm and...you can clearly see Yo Han is pissed but he cares about Ga On so much and there’s the back of the neck grab and you could have either gone in for the kiss or done what you actually did and give him a fucking ultimatum to push him away.

So god this just hurts and I’ve been dreading it. The Break Up. There are so many episodes left though, so where is this relationship going gah. I mean this is the Third Act Breakup of a romance novel, but also...IDK IDK I have bad vibes.

“I am the Abyss” sure sounds a lot like “I am the Kraken” for my OFMD peeps. Yeah, okay, you’re an untouchable monster badass who doesn’t have feelings, sure. You’re Sad Bastard Run says otherwise.

As for the rest of the episode I hate everything and why are these two the kind of “sure I’ll show up whereever you tell me to” stupid?

Fuck I have to watch the next one now.

#the devil judge #threerings watches the devil judge #threerings' reactions

6 notes · View notes

wildthingpoorboy · 4 months

Text

"The Monday After Prom"

Peter x Mary Jane

It was the Monday after prom.. Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson went to school. Separately this time. Prom was the past Friday night, and they had spent most of the weekend apart. With Mary Jane's band officially broken up, she had gotten into modeling. Peter was busying fighting crime as Spider-Man. They had sent texts to each other, but hadn't actually seen or spoken since Saturday afternoon.

Mary Jane sat in the back row. English was one of the few classes that she shared with Peter. Her being a B plus student at best and Peter being the smartest guy in school. This period she had a good view of the back of his head. She couldn't see his face but just seeing him brought back a flood of memoires. The teacher's lecture and the usual sounds of the classroom were ignored. Physically, Mary Jane was in class. Mentally, however, she was still back in that hotel room Tony Stark had reserved for Peter Parker.

She had picked out the perfect little black dress. The one that made is eyes wide and his jaw drop. The one that would have immediately be rejected by the school chaperones, if she hadn't been wearing a jacket over it. They had gone together in the limo provided by Tony Stark. The night had been lovely until some jerk in a costume decided to cause trouble, leaving Mary Jane alone on prom for the better part of an hour. But it wasn't all bad. She used the time to make peace with her friends, her former bandmates. Peter had returned in time for the last dance.

The two went back into the limo, fooled around until they made it to the hotel room. It had everything. Hot tub, mini bar, premium channels on television, even snacks. But they didn't use or see most of it. The two teens had waited long enough and pounced on each other; clawing at each other's clothing, trying to touch every part of the other's body.

MJ curled her toes remembering the rest of that night. Peter had brought the woman out of her so many times easily that night. She wasn't sure if it was because of his powers that he was able to do her harder, deeper, longer and repeatedly or if she just really wanted him that much. His lean but fit body ripped with muscles that only a superhero would have. How safe and comfortable she felt wrapped in his strong arms. How he used his powers to shove himself deeper and deeper into her until she screamed...

"Gah!" she yelped. The bell had rung, snapping her out of her memories and back to reality. She had gotten a few odd looks, but she didn't care. Mary Jane scanned the room looking for Peter only to see him hurry off to his next class.

"You okay?" asked Liz. "Did you doze off or something?"

"Huh? Wha?" Mary Jane stammered. It took her a few moments to regain her composure. She shook her head and grabbed her things.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," she said. "I was just distracted."

"I'll say," Liz laughed. "You looked like a zombie."

"Oh whatever," MJ scoffed.

"Think you can make it to the next class?" Liz asked.

"Totes," answered Mary Jane.

Peter on the other hand wasn't fairing any better. He rushed off to his next class, trying his damnest not to make contact with Mary Jane. It's not that he didn't want to. The problem was the opposite. All he wanted was to be with her. But after what had happened after prom, Peter didn't know if he had the will to control himself around her.

He'd done everything he could to push the memories into the back of his mind. He'd gone on patrol as Spider-Man more than usual, did all his homework, helped Aunt May at the FEAST center, made enough web fluid for the next year, started several new video games and anime series. But it still wasn't enough.

He had to avoid her. Peter was afraid that any contact with Mary Jane would make him explode, and his pants were having a hard time hiding his erection at this point. Anything about her could trigger those memories. The way she felt wrapped around him; the way she looked naked; the way she sounded screaming his name; the way she smelled covered in sweat; the way she tasted.

Peter managed to make it to lunch without incident. First period was the only one he shared with Mary Jane. Thank goodness for advanced classes he thought. They had very different circles of friends too, so that helped. Peter ate his lunch in the corner away from everyone else which, looking back, was probably a mistake. It made him easier to find.

"H-hey, Peter."

Peter almost jumped out of his seat. Standing beside him stood a very nervous Mary Jane Watson. Even she had a hard time looking him in the eye.

"H-hi, M-Mary Jane. What's up?" he asked. She couldn't look at him, but now all he could do was stare. She wore her favorite outfit, a tight black t-shirt and jeans, but to him it might as well have been lingerie. The way the jeans hugged her hips and ass. The way the t-shirt was cut low enough to show off her perfect breasts.

"L-look," she stammered. "I know a lot has...happened recently and I think we should talk about it. You know? M-make sure we're on the same page."

"Yeah," said Peter. "That sounds like a good idea."

"We should probably go somewhere private," she suggested.

"Good idea."

Mary Jane cried out as her back hit the wall. Between her legs was Peter Parker, using his spider strength to carry her so he can fuck her against the wall. The force of his thrusts knocking over the nearby forgotten Halloween decorations. Even with his pants and underwear around his ankles, Peter could still thrust his hips up to fuck MJ. She held on to his neck for dear life as he kept slamming her against the wall. Both of them desperate to release everything that had been pent up since they left the hotel that Saturday afternoon.

"Peter," Mary Jane cried. "I'm gonna scream. I'm gonna scream."

"Please," Peter huffed between breaths. "Just hold it in. I'm...I'm...oh fuck."

Seeing no other option, Mary Jane pulled her shirt up and stuffed as much as she could in her mouth. Even with the sleeves still on her, it was enough for Peter to see her tits barely being contained by a lacy black bra. The sight excited him even more causing him to pick up the pace. Mary Jane let out muffled screams and moans.

"MJ! I gotta-" With a quick move of his hips, Peter's dick slipped out of Mary Jane. Peter groaned loudly as he came all over her tits and stomach. Mary Jane reached her own orgasm, biting down hard on the shirt in her mouth.

Peter and Mary Jane slowly slid down to the floor. MJ's jaw dropped as she tried to catch her breath. Both of their legs wobbling due to the loss of strength. Peter was a miserable sight with his pants and underwear around his ankles, covered in sweat and cum, staring at his girlfriend like a creep. Mary Jane was in a worse position. Half naked. Her shirt ruined. Her body covered in her boyfriend's cum. They might have been able to sneak into the school's attic. How they were going to get down and out without being caught was another matter.

Liz glared at Mary Jane. MJ tried to look away.

"Why are you wearing a hoodie?" Liz asked. "It's like super sunny today."

"It's Peter's," she answered. "Isn't that a cute thing girlfriends do? Wearing their boyfriend's clothes?"

"I guess," Liz sneered. "You also missed, like, a bunch of classes."

"Oh yeah. Think I can borrow your notes?" Mary Jane asked.

"Ew, no way," said Liz. "Not with your sweaty Peter-touching hands."

"Oh whatever," MJ scoffed. Mary Jane and her friends stopped in their tracks when Peter approached them.

"H-hey, MJ," he said. "And co. I got a few before I have to go to the Stark internship. Did you want to walk home together?"

"Yes!" MJ almost yelled, scaring her friends. "I mean, yeah, yes. Let's."

Liz and Glory watched MJ walk away with Peter. Glory with amusement. Liz with disgust.

"She totally fucked that nerd," Liz said.

"Oh yeah," Glory laughed.

0 notes

burnwater13 · 8 months

Text

Nope. Grogu wasn’t going to do it. He wasn’t. He refused. He pretended nothing had happened. He didn’t think about it and he wasn’t going to. It was as simple as that. Right?

Uh… no. It was not as simple as that. Try as he might, he still saw the image of the Moff wannabe in his mind's eye and that annoyed the heck out of him. It was like when Peli Motto sang that song about baby snarks and Grogu just couldn’t get it out his head. So… awful.

Why remember people who were mean, cruel, liars? Why think about ‘if only they had been better people’ at all? More polite, softer spoken, not nearly so eager to hurt people to get their way? What was the value in letting people like that take up any of your time? Especially your precious, goofing around, having fun time?

Grogu refused to let Morgan Elsbeth have that time in his mind.

Gah! There she was again! He’d remembered her name. Womp rats! He didn’t even want to remember that she existed at all and now he’d gone and recalled her name. That just wasn’t right.

She had been mean spirited, bossy, snooty, and a whole host of other unsavory things. He’d met people like her across the galaxy and they just sucked the fun, joy, and excitement at life, out of everything.

He knew that those were qualities that the Sith approved of and used to control other people. They were know-it-alls and be-it-alls and ‘try-to-kidnap-Grogu-if-at-all-possible’-alls. And for his part, he was over it. He didn’t want to see them, hear them, or even think of them. Ever. At all.

But Dank farrik! He’d just been going about his day when he suddenly thought about all the bad people he’d seen or met and her face popped right up. It was probably because the Mandalorian had been pretty short with him when Grogu made a mess in the Razor Crest.

Grogu hadn’t meant to spill the broth and short out whatever panel was closest to his seat. He would have cleaned it up but Din had tried to use his cape/blanket thing and when that didn’t work the Mandalorian had to get up and go to the main deck and grab some supplies from there. Grogu just stayed where he was. He knew that his dad didn’t need his help to find the stuff.

That would have been fine, but then the door to the bridge seemed to want to misbehave and it kept opening and closing without any intervention from either one of them. That made things a bit tricky for the Mandalorian. It also ended up producing a fine spray of curses from the bounty hunter when it closed on his booted foot.

Maybe that was the problem. When Din Djarin used curses it was typically because he was surprised at something. Not angry or hurt, just surprised. But this time he was mildly inconvenienced (after all the beskar plate protected his foot, like it was intended to) and he clearly didn’t like that.

He’d hopped around a little bit and dropped a pile of absorbent sheets on Grogu’s head and then sat back down and tried to get the door’s controller to respond to proper commands, then he muttered something about the timing of the incident being poorly planned.

Grogu had no idea what the bounty hunter was carrying on about. No one planned to spill hot broth on themselves or the door control panel. It wasn’t a nefarious plot to slightly inconvenience his dad while they were in hyperspace and had nothing better to do. It was an accident. Plain and simple.

“It was avoidable.”

Din Djarin’s voice had the same tone and cadence as Morgan Elsbeth’s had when she told them ‘A Jedi plagues me’. No wonder Grogu thought about her!

His dad was upset about something that had nothing to do with the actual incident. He was blaming Grogu for something he had no way to know about and no way to fix. Just like those poor people on Corvus had no way to help the Magistrate with whatever problem she wanted solved. But they still had to pay the price, just like Grogu.

“Accident.” Grogu asserted his own authority. Of course what the Mandalorian heard was coo, chirp, grumble.

“I know buddy, but now you need a bath, we’re fresh out of broth, and I have to fix the door before we can do either one of them, which means no Diggle and Daggle vid. We don’t have the time now.”

Grogu sighed. He misjudged Din Djarin. He wasn’t being a mean, heartless, evil supporter of a the fallen empire. He was just being a dad. Sometimes it was just so easy to get the two of them confused.

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin

1 note · View note

elflock-magician · 11 months

Text

"Hyde's Complex" (Reupload)

Summary - Hyde happens to get into his usual hijinks, however this time things don't go too well for him. Abandoned by Jekyll, and drenched in his own blood, he gets back to The Society near Midnight. Rachel and The Creature happen to be in the right place at the right time.

TW for IMPLIED SA.

Hyde stumbled forward. Everything hurt. Quite a lot too. He felt the warm blood plaguing his clothes. He shuttered at the feeling as he struggled forward. He had gotten stabbed and beaten to the point where he couldn’t even climb on the roofs. It was late at night as well, no one was out to help him, and no police to arrest him. The air was freezing against the bloody warmth of his body. His blonde hair was more disheveled than usual, it was matted to his face and wet with blood. He had lost his hat somewhere too. He had his hair pulled a lot by the culprits of his injuries as well. His breath hitched as he struggled through the night. He left behind a light trail of blood as he pulled himself forward.

Jekyll followed him alongside the wall. He watched as Hyde struggled forward. Hyde noticed his glares. “What?!” He shouted aggressively. Blood slightly sputtered out of his mouth as he shouted. “Ugh–” Jekyll recoiled with disgust at the blood. “It’s nothing.” Jekyll said and evaded his eyes slightly to avoid them meeting with the red liquid. He knew he was going to have to deal with that when they switched back. The smell of copper plagued the air from Hyde’s excessive bleeding. “Really? So you’ve got nothing to say, wise guy?” Hyde called, clearly upset by the events that had taken place. “Edward, just admit this is your own fault. You cannot blame me for your bad choices. You shouldn’t have been out knowing you’re a wanted criminal. Though the others were outlandish with their responses to your own right, you should have stayed back like I suggested.” Jekyll scolded. “You're REAL talkative now, but not when I actually needed your help. You know- when those freaks were chasing me with fire!” Hyde shouted in response. “Really? You ‘needed’ my help?” He put heavy quotations on the word ‘needed.’ “Because if you needed it so badly then you should have just asked!” Jekyll explained. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Hyde questioned aggressively.

“It means that it is your responsibility to make good choices, not mine. And if you so needed my assistance, then it is your responsibility to communicate that to me.” Jekyll explained and crossed his arms at Hyde. “Communication?” Hyde repeated with almost disbelief. “Big talk coming from you, who can’t even bring up that bullshit up with Lanyon!” Hyde said and jabbed his finger towards the shadow. Jekyll gasped, and his anger became far more visible. “You shouldn’t accuse of things you don’t understand.” Jekyll stated. “Blah blah blah!” Hyde shouted and clenched his eyes shut and grabbed his side. His hand was wet with scarlet liquid. But when he opened his eyes once more, Jekyll was gone. Leaving him alone. Hyde went silent as he was alone. He had pushed Jekyll away- and was yet so…angry when he finally left. That was the thing with Hyde, huh? He just didn’t know how to communicate- better yet handle his emotions.

“Whatever-” He hissed, venom tainting his voice. “Who needs help anyways?” Hyde whispered to himself. “Cowards, that’s who! And I’m- GAH!” He called out as one of his many wounds tore open, blood pouring out. Hyde felt somewhat ashamed for even daring to cry out. “I’m no coward.” He finished his previous statement, though his voice was clearly strained and pained. He continued to struggle forward through the sidewalk. One of his hands pulled away, trembling and shaking, as he grabbed at the wall for support. “Only…a little- further. You’re the S-Spirit of London at Night! You’ve killed armies and slayed kings!” No he hadn’t. He’s never slayed any kings nor had he killed any armies. He just said things to try and make himself more confident. “You can handle a little- ghn– walk!”

Hyde was getting dizzier than he liked to admit. His vision was shaking and it felt like his eyelids were getting heavier and heavier by the second. “Oh…shit…” He muttered the swear beneath his breath as pain ached and wracked throughout his body. However, as he turned the corner, he was greeted with the bright lights of The Society. The light felt blinding to Hyde as he approached. He just barely got to the door as he smacked against it, his heaving body trembling. “H-HEY!” He hated stuttering, but it was out of his control at the moment. “Open the door!” He shouted. He coughed, choking on his own blood. He felt his legs begin to give out beneath him.

Rachel and The Creature got along pretty well. Or at least better than others assumed. Turns out The Creature enjoyed baking. And Rachel was one of the greatest bakers on planet earth. So, it was late at night. Rachel and The Creature were cooking for just friendly fun. Rachel was teaching The Creature her secret, home-made recipe for soft-served frosting. “And then you add just a bit of milk to the–” THUMP.

Rachel stopped talking as she was startled with the sudden sound. “Did you hear that?” She questioned. “It’d be hard not too.” The Creature replied. He was stirring a bowl of frosting mix, and he was wearing a pink apron. “Sounded like it came from the door…?” She mumbled and approached the door. “Be careful.” The Creature said offhandedly as he put the bowl onto the counter. “Normally it wouldn’t matter with all this weaponry of mine~” She said and showed off her knife set. “But it is pretty late at night. Better take one of my sharpened ones.” Rachel stated and opened up a cabinet, revealing a moderately sized, sharp knife. She took it into her grasp. “Be back in a minute.” Rachel said and left the kitchen. She approached the door. Thump, thump, thump.

Three softer ‘thumps’ followed behind the previously loud one. Rachel however, wasn’t scared. Only a little off-put by the experience. She pushed the front door open.

“Uhh, hello?” Rachel questioned. She was greeted with the cold winds of the outdoors.

And on the ground was Hyde, in a pool of his own blood. “Hyde?!” Rachel called out in disbelief. She received no reply. Hyde’s exhaustion was getting the better of him. “Are you alright?! What the heck happened?!” She questioned, clearly scared for the boy's health. Once again, no reply was given. She kicked the door open and grabbed him into her arms, trying to get him off the ground. Hyde was far lighter than Jekyll, so it wasn’t too difficult for Rachel to carry him. In fact- it was somewhat akin to carrying a stuffed animal. Rachels arms became wet with the copper, crimson blood of Hydes. Rachel rushed back into the kitchen and tossed Hyde onto the table like that of a surgeon. She needed to stop the bleeding. Hyde was clearly alive, his chest rising and falling, and his eyes completely wide, though unseeing.

“Creature! Get some bandages!” Rachel called as she located the few primary wounds on the boy, being one on his torso, which was clearly visible from the slash of his clothing, a large marking on his forehead, and a few burns, bruises and cuts that would astride his arms. “Wow. I had suspected that one day the big mouth on that boy would get him into trouble, but not to this degree.” The Creature observed, his brow furrowing at the stench of blood. “Don’t say that! For all we know he could’ve just fallen down the stairs or something!” Rachel retorted, pulling a needle and some thread from her skirt pocket. She stood on a chair and leaned over the table, before stitching the worst of the wounds shut. Or at least starting. Stitching took time. She was quick about it. She had expertise in the area. She also noted very strange burns across the boy. “I didn’t know stairs could burn someone, Rachel.” The Creature said and handed the bandages to Rachel. “You don’t know that! There could have been circumstances.” Rachel replied desperately and began to bandage the wounds that could not be stitched.

Tears pricked at Rachel's eyes. She remembered when this had happened before. To her brother. She remembered the many times he would come home, beaten and bruised. She thought that if she had done something earlier, he wouldn’t have died. Well now was her chance to do something before it was too late. Tears rolled down her face like raindrops on a window. “What would you know about Master Hyde anyway? You’ve only met him once!” Rachel said as she carefully made sure he wasn’t in too much pain. Stitching without any kind of numbness would be painful. However, Hyde didn’t even flinch. This put forward the idea that he had so much adrenaline pumping from what had happened that he couldn’t even feel it.

Sooner than later, Rachel had done everything she could do. Hyde still hadn’t woken up. Rachel sighed and grabbed the bridge of her nose. “Gah!” She called out and pulled her hand back, realizing it was wet with blood. She sighed again soon after. “You should probably go get yourself cleaned up.” The Creature said. Rachel evaded her eyes. “You…uh…Can’t cook with bloody hands. Unsanitary.” He added, trying to lighten the mood. The Creature would admit that he was without a doubt not the best at humor of any kind. But it seemed to work in this case as Rachel giggled lightly. “You’re right.” She replied with an easy smile. “I’ll take a minute.” Rachel said finally before leaving the room.

This left The Creature and Hyde alone. Hyde’s blank stare was almost unnerving for The Creature, even though he wasn’t bothered by much. He wouldn’t say he knew Hyde well. The only times they had met was once when he was focused on getting Frankenstien some help, and the other times was when he stabbed someone with an umbrella to save him. That’s how that one fire had started.

The Creature however, stayed more composed than Rachel. Whatever happens, then so be it.

The adrenaline that was pumping through Hyde’s veins at that point began to settle down. And slowly his vision became less blurry. He slowly shook awake. The moment he realized he was still alive he shot up with a gasp. “GAH!” He shouted in pain from the amount of wounds he had. He grabbed his upper arms. “What the hell happened?!” He questioned.

The Creature took off his apron and hung it up. “You should not move so suddenly.” The Creature stated, referring to the amount of wounds he had. Hyde didn’t listen and instead struggled to sit up, but he eventually managed. “Awe sHIT.” He called out. He started breathing heavily. “I told you to not move suddenly.” The Creature stated. Hyde’s breath was heavy. “Where the hell am I?” He questioned, gritting his teeth on ‘hell’, most likely from the pain of even being awake at that moment. “The Society. You brought yourself here on your own, right?” The Creature asked. Hyde paused. “Oh yeah…” He mumbled. He rubbed the side of his head. “Oh god, don’t tell me it was you who was feeling me up while I was passed out!” Hyde called out and noticed the stitching on his higher stomach.

“Calm yourself. Rachel made sure you didn’t die of blood loss.” The Creature stated, ignoring Hyde’s wording. Hyde sighed in relief. “Ugh! That’s not as bad as you but still gross.” Hyde whined. “Rachel was worried for you.” The Creature said. Hyde turned his head away and evaded his eyes. “I don’t understand why she insists on getting all bothered over what happens to me.” Hyde shouted as he made an attempt at standing, “AUGH– SHIT!” He shouted as his legs collapsed beneath him, a shooting pain stabbed him. He fell forward, though The Creature caught him. “Rachel worries because she cares for you. For reasons unknown to anyone on this planet.” The Creature said in a mildly sarcastic tone. “Why in the name of all that’s unholy would Rachel care for me?!” Hyde shouted. He did not receive a reply as The Creature sat him up on the table. “If you keep letting good advice go in one ear and out the other you’re going to get hurt.” He stated. Hyde grumbled something inaudibly beneath his breath. “Rachel means well. You know this.” The Creature said. Hyde blew a raspberry and waved The Creature off.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Hyde grumbled. The Creature carefully began to sort through the things in the kitchen while Hyde fumbled on the bandages covering his arms.

“Now, what is it that you could have said that got you into so much trouble?” The Creature asked. “None of your business, meathead!” Hyde retorted. The Creature raised an eyebrow. “I believe you owe Rachel at least some kind of explanation. She was worrying sick.” He said. “I don’t owe you guys anything.” Hyde replied.

“It is your business. If you’re not comfortable with sharing, so be it. But you're an idiot. Rachel saved you tonight. Show her a little gratitude. A ‘thank you’ would be an order.” The Creature said, though Hyde ignored him. “YOU!” Rachel shouted as she suddenly appeared, pointing a knife at Hyde’s chest. “I can’t believe you!” She called. Hyde rolled his eyes. “What the hell did you do this time?!” Hyde crossed his arms. He didn’t say anything as Rachel lowered her knife. “It doesn’t matter.” Hyde sighed. “What? Yes it clearly does! You came here like you had gotten thrown down a flight of stairs, then walked into traffic…Twice!” Rachel explained. “Wow, graphic. You been on that thriller novel kick again?” Hyde asked. “Yes I have actua– Hey don’t change the subject!” Rachel shouted.

“Edward, just be honest and tell them what happened. It’s a different situation when it becomes their problem. However, I am trying to be sensitive. Just be honest and say you’re uncomfortable with talking about it, if it is so.” Jekyll said as he emerged from the shadows. Hyde hated it when he said it like that. It made him sound like a child. Like he was weak. “Ugh! You’re back.” Hyde muttered. “Excuse me?” Rachel called. “Mhm, nothing.” Hyde replied. “Well I want answers! You don’t get to show up here all bloodied and expect us all to pretend that nothing happened!” Rachel shouted.

Hyde sighed. Jekyll gestured for him to be honest- not with Rachel or Creature, but with himself. “Fine.” He hissed. “So I was minding my own business, right?” The story already sounded quite unbelievable. Rachel crossed her arms and made the most disappointed mother look on planet earth.

“And then a creep offered to buy me a drink. And I mean- what was I gonna say, no?” He began. Rachel and The Creature’s expressions definitely…shifted. This didn’t sound like Hyde’s usual evil hijinks.

“So they buy me a drink, we talk. Honestly, they seemed cool at first, but then they started getting all touchy-feeling, so I told ‘em to screw off about it. They got all pissy about how I was ‘leadin’ them on’ and whatever other junk.” Hyde explained. Oh. So maybe it wasn’t his fault. Not this time. “And the burns?” Rachel asked slowly. “Apparently the freak had recognized me as the guy who burned down the block and decided since I wasn’t gonna do whatever he asked, I was better in prison. Riot started. Everyone's favorite late night London bullshit.” Hyde explained and evaded his eyes. “Mh. Well I don’t believe you should’ve been walking around while being a wanted criminal, but you did not deserve to be beaten over having the most basic boundaries, regardless of how you were acting.” The Creature said.

“Finally, somethin’ we can agree on.” Hyde replied and glared. “You’re lucky that they’re so understanding, you know.” Jekyll said. Hyde ignored the statement. “However…” Jekyll’s voice trailed off for a moment to try and think of how to be sympathetic with someone like Hyde. “Don’t beat yourself up about it.” He said. Hyde snarked. He was going to make a remark towards Jekyll, something sly, but it was cut off as Rachel pulled him into a mother-like hug.

“Oh you poor…poor boy! Give me a name and I’ll hunt him down like an animal” Rachel said, her voice darkening, all before snapping back into her regular voice. “If you need time to recover, I can take you to my private home, okay? A-And if you don’t feel safe, let me and Creature know and we’ll protect you, okay?” Rachel continued. Hyde was quiet. “I…Really don’t want to talk about it yet.” He finally admitted, in a small, hushed whisper to Rachel. Rachel silenced herself.

“Of course. Let’s just finish up these cupcakes. Come on, we can use your help if you’re ready.” Rachel offered. Hyde hesitated. “As long as I can use the funny mixer thing.”

A/n i know im shit at writing but it’s that time of week where I need to project onto my blorbo (Hyde in this case)

0 notes

livycheshire · 1 year

Text

❄️~°• Arctic's heart •°~❄️

❄️Part 2❄️

Synopsis

Hungover, is not how Red thought her day would go, but after finding out how she was used, her roommate and best friend, sets off on writing about those who wronged Red.

Disclaimer: I do not own happy tree friends, I have made this au with the help of @thetravelerstale, I do not own Flippy, Flakey, Flipqy or Tiger general, I only gave them last names and first names for the storyline, everything else, plotline and other characters belong to me.

Warning: time skip, language

~°No one's POV°~

'what was his name...? I... I must've been so out of it...' Red thought to herself as she clutched her book bag, hoping to get to her class on time, and avoid the 'friends' she was with the night before 'gah screw them... they left me alone.' she sighs and shakes her head he

'Stop thinking about it, and just... focus on your work. This is what you wanted since... Mom passed away...' She thought one last time, sighing softly, before she opened the door, to her empty classroom, apart from her mentor and professor, and the one person she can come to for advice.

"Ah, good afternoon Red, although you just missed the lesson for today." The older woman chimed as Red sighs embarrassedly "sorry, professor Hana, I had a rough morning and I had to take a taxi to get to campus-" "oh hush child, you know well enough that you are my favorite student, and you know, when we're alone you can tell me anything, and I told you to drop the formalities, when we're alone" the woman, now known as Hana, cut Red off, before sighing in concern "clearly you need a break Red, your looking pale as a matter of fact- what happened last night dear?" She asked softly, in a motherly tone as Red sighs and looks down.

"I-... I went out with Marie and her friends last night... to a club... a-and I had a few drinks, but after about a few... I was left disoriented, drunk even..." She looks down "but then... I-i met someone... big, strong... God he was so kind to me, it made me feel special... Like a gift- no like he was God himself." Red rambled on, before she snapped out of it and blushed darkly a bit, before shaking her head "b-but that's not the point! Point is... I slept with someone, woke up with a migraine and my legs feeling like Jello, and I can't remember his name, besides his eyes, and on top of that I started to feel nauseous when I got back to the dorm. Though that is also from the alcohol I had, but I'm a little worried it's something else." She ranted as she paced in front of her mentor, who sighed, before smiling slightly.

"sounds like a rough day alright, but the part about you feeling nauseous, kinda makes me worried a bit." Hana said before getting up and going towards Red and stopping her from pacing any further, as she felt her forehead. As Red sighs "it was probably the multiple drinks, I was always a lightweight, so that could be It" she said as the other hummed in thought.

"Yea... Well, no fever, which is good, but that doesn't check out my other option of a possible stomach bug. As weak legs and nausea are a few minor symptoms." She said before sighing "but next time, be careful, for now, head back to your dorm, I'll make an excuse note for you, and I'll let you rest for a month. take this time to relax, and calm your mental state before you do anything else, understood?" She stated, looking at the female porcupine, who nodded and sighs.

"I just hope, I don't end up with something bad, I don't want to miss the exams-" Red spoke, before getting cut off "and you won't, I'll make sure you have everything you need to learn, before the end of this semester, but for now, go and relax and I'll see you next month, ok?" Hana smiles as Red returns the gesture and nodded "ok, thank you" she said as Hana smiles and hugs her "no problem" she said before letting Red leave, back to her dorm.

~•Time Skip•~

While walking Back to her dorm, Red sighs softly 'to think this year was going to be a good one, well, hopefully it does turn out ok in the end' she thought before stopping in her tracks and looking to see Marie's dorm room cracked a little bit, with Marie and her friends laughing and gossiping loudly.

Red, on instinct, creeped closer to the cracked door, and peered through, as her small ears flicked, listening into their conversation.

"Oh wow~" Marie giggled "and she managed to bed a hunk? Jeez what a slut. Hopefully we managed to get her out of this damned college, I don't even know how we managed to put up with her." The feline cackled as she posted on her social media about the night before. Which was of her and her friends, minus Red, having a real good time on the dance floor. Without her.

But hearing what Marie said, Red teared up and backed away from the door, before running off towards her dorm and slamming it open, scaring her roommate, before slamming it shut as she heads to her side of the room and lays in her bed, snuggling her head into her pillows, sobbing softly into them. While her roommate sighs in worry.

"Red?" Her roommate asked worriedly. As he walks towards her bed, and sits down beside her. "Red, if it's about Marie, you know I can start a rumor and get her kicked out, I mean, she hasn't been that good of a friend to you anyways." He said as Red looked at him with puffy red eyes, sniffling.

"Please don't... I'd rather not have anything to do with her or her friends." she spat out distastefully as sniffles "I just..." she sighs "I just really want to go home... but..." she sighs and looks away from him. "Forget it... it doesn't matter anyway. I'm the college slut now so it doesn't matter-" she jumped as her roommate shouted "of course it does, Red! Besides, it was only one night!" He barked and huffed "plus, how many guys has, Marie slept with? Basically the entire freaking college! If anything she's the slut. Now come on, you're going home and I'm spreading that rumor. Plus, I'd love the taste of revenge." He chuckled mischievously. causing Red to shake her head slightly

"But, how? I don't have a car." Red sighs, as she sits up, "plus, you know very well that if you're caught you too will be thrown out, Justin" she crossed her arms as her roommate smiles.

"That's why, we're going out, tomorrow, plus who can get rid of me, huh?" He smiles slyly "now, how much money do you have?" he asked cheekily as Red tilts her head in thought. "Basically my family's entire inheritance, plus a trust fund that was left to me." "Perfect! Oooooh! This feels like the books I've read." He smiles happily as Red raised an eyebrow "what are you talking about you crazy dog?" She questioned as her roommate, smiles widely.

"You see, my dear friend, in said books, that I have, the woman always goes out with her friends to a bar or a club. And sometimes they get drunk to the point of sleeping with someone and that someone leaves the next day, or sometimes they sleep with a billionaire or a Mafia boss. And have no recollection of the night before." He smiles before getting up "and someway or another the woman always ends up with twins, triplets or even one child" he said pacing and rambling on "and it's always the man finding out he's a father, while the mother is always a single mother, working her ass off, or! Having a boyfriend who is faithful to the woman until the father of said child finds the mother, and in some books, drags her back into his life but the mother is always a Mama bear and never agrees, until a series of events happen and suddenly, POOF! their one big happy family again! Oooh! maybe end up with another child or more and then..."

He rambled on and on, effectively losing Red, as she sweat dropped and scratched her head trying to understand what her friend was going on about. But it was no use.

"Ok, ok! Shh! I get it, I get it! Just..." Red sighs "calm down, I still have to find the best and safest route home anyway. The place is a dangerous place to live... but it's the only place I'd want to raise a child, IF. if I have one" Red said, pointing a finger at her friend, before crossing her arms as Justin rolls his eyes.

"It's gonna happen, anyways, you get some well deserved sleep, while I start working on that rumor, and by next month, hopefully, I'll see if I'll be a uncle" He smirks mischievously as Red giggles softly and sighs, before nodding "yea, but it's not going to happen, because I'm sure we used protection" she says softly, as Justin raised an eyebrow. "Even then none of it really works, because condoms can break, and birth control isn't that effective, and IUD's only last for a few years, but even then that's dangerous because you can lose it or it causes infi-" "ok! thanks for giving me a whole new fear" Red said interrupting Justin, with her quills slightly raised, as Justin smiles nervously and rubs the back of his head "heh, sorry... Guess I got carried away" he chuckled as Red sighs before smiling, yawning softly a bit "yea, no kidding... Anyways, I'm going to take a nap, professor Hana is making me take a break from school so, yea." she said before she lays back down, nuzzling into Her pillows, As Justin smiles lightly.

"Yea, Sleep well Red, because next month, you are going to have a restart" Justin smiles softly, as he covers her with her blankets, and gets up silently, before heading to his side of the room and turning off the lights, and turning on his desk light, dimming it a bit.

"Alright, let's get to work" he said, popping his knuckles and starting typing on his computer. 'this will show Marie who she's truly messing with. For I am, the anonymous gossiper' he smiled at his thoughts as he typed away.

#happy tree friends #htf flaky #htf fliqpy #htf flippy #hopefully you like it #ask anything #if you wish #htf tiger general #htf headcanons

1 note · View note

giggly-squiggily · 2 years

Note

If there’s free requests could you maybe do dr stone with lee gen and ler senku?

((i never send in asks so idk what context to give when asking 😭😭😭))

Ooo, the boys! I love these two so much! I've gotcha anon! (( and no worries you did great! Thank you for sending this in!))

“*Hic!* Oh no…*Hic!* *Hic!*”

Senku looked up from his notes, amusement in his eyes as he turned to his boyfriend. “You alright there, Mentalist?”

It was no secret to the residents of Ishigami Village Gen had quite the distinctive set of hiccups. They came out of nowhere, lasted most of the day, and were strong enough to put a little bounce in his step whenever they came on. For the most part, Gen could usually suppress them, avoiding foods that he knew would set them off and whatnot.

That didn’t mean he was perfect; especially when it came to cola.

Now he was struggling to compose himself, an empty bottle of said drink sitting by as he pressed a hand over his mouth, body twitching with each little sound. “I’m- *Hic* I’m fine! Just *hic* drank too fast *hic*! *hic!*” He groaned, turning away and covering his face with his hands. “It’s happening again! *Hic!*”

Senku pressed his lips together, the urge to laugh building in his chest as he crossed the distance between them. “I tried to warn you not to drink so fast, but nope, you had to chug it.” He boxed the other in, resting his hands against the counter behind him with a cheshire grin. “Want some help? I know a method that can clear those up! It’s a ten billion percent chance of success.”

At this, Gen peeked through his hands, cheeks burning red at how close the scientist was now. “Wh-*hic* What do you have in mind? *hic!*”

Senku’s eyes danced. He began to lean in. Immediately Gen closed his eyes.

“Gah! Ahehahahahahhahhaha! *hic* Sheheheheehhheenku! *hic*” Gen squeaked, yelping as ten fingers found his ribs, pressing in gently. “Whahahahhahait a mihiihiihihinute! *hic* *hic*”

“What? I’m helping!” Senku teased, easily trapping the squirming mentalist against the table and himself. “The best way to get rid of hiccups is to stimulate the vagus nerve- the part of our body that controls a variety of things. While there’s tons of home remedies out there, I find tickling to be the most entertaining. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Shehehehhehehhehehenku! Ahehahahhahahhahaha *hic* Nohohohohoohhohot thehehehhehhere!” He cried out when Senku reached behind, pinching along his spine and shoulders. At this point his cheeks were ablaze, eyes squeezed shut with mirth as he buried his face into the other’s shoulder, clinging to his arms. “Iihihihihihihihiit tihiihihihihckles toohohohohooho muuhuuhuuhuhuhuch!”

“Does it really?” Senku cooed, moving his hands up to Gen’s armpits and pinching gently, making him arch with a squeal. “Does it tickle when I do this? What about this?” He scratched, increasing the cackly laughter pouring out. “Is this a bad spot?”

“Yoohohohohoohu ahahahahahhahalreaahahahahdy knohohohohohoohow thahhahhahahhat!” Gen squealed, feeling himself begin to grow lightheaded. “Ohoohohohokay ohohoohohhokay enohohohohough!”

Senku stopped, dropping his hands to the other’s waist supportively as Gen more or less collapsed against him. Residue giggles escaped his lips, and his eyes were blinded by mirthful tears. “Ehehehe…ahhehehehe…yohooohhure tohoohoo muuhuhuhch!”

“Heh, maybe. But it worked right?” Senku pointed out, humming with satisfaction when no new hiccups resurfaced. Gen grumbled something not so nice against his neck, making him laugh. “You're welcome, and I love you too.”

Gen looked up at him, his glare dissolving into a soft pout as he looked at Senku. “I was tricked. I thought you were gonna kiss me…”

Senku blinked, cheeks redding nearly as much as Gen’s. Then he laughed, shaking his head with warm eyes. “Sorry about that…can I?”

Gen nodded, closing his eyes as Senku’s lips finally found his.

The moment was perfect. Everything went right until-

“*hic!*”

Gen blinked. Senku’s eyes widened, a hand coming to his own lips.

“Mental-*hic*-ist…” Senku tried to warn, soft hiccups rising up as Gen grinned, raising a hand. “I have just the remedy.”

I hope this was good!

#Dr stone #senkuu ishigami #gen asagiri #sengen #tickle #tickle fic #fluff #I love these two #it's been a hot minute since I've written for them

67 notes · View notes

221bshrlocked · 3 years

Text

taste you on my tongue

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Reader

Words: 9441 (I can’t fucking write anything shorter I’m sorry)

Warnings: Angst and Smut. Helmet is on and then it’s off. Oral (male receiving). Soft then rough sex. Breeding kink. Touch kink. Hand kink? Dirty/Sweet Talk. Mando feels primal when he sees you wearing his shirt and flirting with someone that isn’t him.

Summary: The Revenant was a fairly spacious gunship compared to others and you prided yourself in keeping it running for this long, especially after you were told it would soon lose its “life force.” But when a certain Mandalorian and his foundling join your ship following a disastrous mission, you find that the Revenant isn’t as big as you initially thought. In fact, it is much less private than you wish to admit and you find yourself escaping to a cantina one night to avoid the bounty hunter who isn’t aware of the effect he has on you. The problem is, the Mandalorian doesn’t like to share anything with anyone, and that rule applies to you. Unfortunately (or perhaps luckily) for you, you learn about this rule the hard way.

A/N: I hope yall like these because I’m currently spiraling down a Din Djarin hole and I’m not remotely apologetic. Let me know how it is in the comments and how I can make the smut better or the characterization better. Please, I can’t improve unless yall tell me what I’m doing wrong. Also, I promise to write more smut than angst next time. Enjoy :) And @purple-mango sorry it wasn’t as rough as you probably hoped, I was feeling soft Din but mark my words, the next one will be rough.

The obnoxious laughter coming from one of the corners of the cantina made you shake your head as the tavern-keeper approached you and motioned towards your glass. He smiled when you enthusiastically nodded and held out the finished drink, silently asking him to pour some more of the Tevraki whiskey because there was nothing you wanted more than to forget the past few months.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There was something, or rather someone, that you wanted more than your need to set aside what’s been going on since that shitshow of a showdown on Tatooine. Coincidentally, or perhaps ironically, that someone had to do with what happened on the desert planet. You smiled at the man in front of you who knew better than to argue about how many drinks you’ve downed thus far.

As the thoughts slithered back to the source of your frustration, you couldn’t help but let your eyes take in your surroundings, shamelessly hoping to find someone who could fill that deep-seated need seeping through your chest and into your heart. No one would compare to him of course, and you knew that very well. But you couldn’t stand another hour on that ship without scratching that itch that’s been bothering you ever since he joined your ship with that annoyingly cute green goblin. You took a sip and returned your attention to the man wiping down the counter in front of you, already thinking of just skipping all the pleasantries and going back to his place.

“If you point him out to me, I can pay him a visit later and roughen him up a bit.” He leaned over and pointed behind you, pouring himself a shot of some weird blue drink before moving in closer to you again.

“Sorry?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, not understanding what he was referring to or if you had even begun a conversation with him.

“The sleemo that rejected you sweetheart. Why else would you be drowning in my best stuff?” He winked at you and you barely managed to not visibly gag at the ways his eyes raked over your form. Did he think this was the way to flirt?

“Maybe I just love drinking liquid fire, sweetheart. Have you thought of that?” You hoped you weren’t being too sarcastic with him because if there was the slightest chance of getting laid tonight, then you were going to do everything in your power to take it and run considering how there was no chance of you asking your now-permanent “roommate” for those kinds of services.

“Maybe. Either way, I’d love to help you forget about that sucker.” You took a deep breath and willed yourself to not punch him in the eye because the thought of being able to forget about the beskar-clad bounty hunter, even for a few hours only, sounded incredibly pleasant.

“Oh aren’t you sweet? So selfless and confident too.” You forced a smile before downing the rest of the whiskey and tapping on the glass again. If you were going to get fucked by someone like him, you needed at least three more drinks or else you wouldn’t be able to imagine the Mandalorian in his place. You chuckled at the depressing thought because here you were trying to forget about the man himself and yet went out of your way to make sure you were sort of able to pretend he was the one showing you the stars.

“Believe me darling, my intentions are strictly...honorable.” He poured you another drink and took a shot with you, his eyes widening in shock when you didn’t bother to wait another second before downing the whole glass in one go.

“Damn baby, he hurt you that bad?” You raised an eyebrow at his inquiry and didn’t know why the question bothered you so much. As much as you hated to admit it, the answer was a hard yes.

“Hah, hurt doesn’t even begin to cover it. And you know what the worst part is? He doesn’t even know he’s doing it.” You didn’t bother to ask him for another drink, jumping on top of the counter before leaning down and grabbing the whiskey bottle from the shelf right in front of his knees.

“You mean he’s still here?” He didn’t question your behavior, letting you take a long sip from the bottle before smiling down at your dazed expression.

“Here. There. Everywhere. He’s fucking everywhere all the damn time. I...he’s- maker...I can’t get him out of my kriffing mind. And the funny thing is, he probably doesn’t waste a second of thought on me. I’m just...someone with a fucking ride that can get him from one planet to the next.” You traced random patterns on the cold tile of the counter and didn’t realize that someone had occupied the seat just opposite of you and trying his hardest to ignore the way the patrons across the room continued to stare at you like you were a piece of meat.

“Darling, he isn’t worth your time. You need someone that...appreciates you. Tells you how good you’ve been.” You knew the man in front of you was just saying those lovely things to get in your pants but you couldn’t help the next few words from stopping even if you tried.

“Yes...gods, yes. Yes I do. But I wanted him to appreciate me. I wanted him to tell me how good I’ve been. I can’t blame him for not bothering to thank me though because it’s hard for him to hold a conversation longer than five minutes. I get that, he’s not used to it, he hasn’t needed to for so long. But it wouldn't hurt to acknowledge me every once in a while you know. I mean, do you know anyone else who’d willingly put their entire life on hold just to help some random introvert and his child find their way through this kriffing shithole of a system?” You knew you shouldn’t be saying any of those things out loud, let alone to a complete stranger. But he struck a nerve and you couldn’t take not another minute of not telling anyone how you truly felt. You needed to get some things off your chest and you sure as hell weren’t about to complain to the man waiting for you back on the ship.

“And- and do you know anyone that would readily give up their most valuable position in this world to a stranger they just met? I don’t.” You violently shook your head at him and felt your eyes fill with tears when you saw the way the man was looking at you. His eyes shot down to the bottle in your hand and you unceremoniously raised it to your lips before taking a long swig of the burning liquid, hoping by some miracle that this was enough to make you forget all about his stupid strut and his annoyingly low and gruff voice and the way he was so effortlessly kind to the kid.

“That ship. It’s- oh gah, it’s been with me through the worst fucking jobs. I fought for it, almost sold my kriffing bo-...almost sold something priceless to ensure it isn’t taken from me again. And it only takes some damn beskar-wearing, quiet, fucking who-knows-what-species nerfherder to save me once for me to voluntarily hand it over to him. Like it wasn’t a piece of me...like it wasn’t my home.” You were over sharing at this point and you noticed the way the man was beginning to lose interest in you so you made sure to grab his shirt and pull him closer to you before grabbing his forearm and digging your nails into it to keep his attention.

“Have you heard of the Revenant? You must have heard of the Revenant. There is no way you haven’t-”

“Yes, yes. I’ve heard of it.” He was exasperated but continued to attend to you, shamelessly letting his eyes follow a drop of whiskey roll down your shirt in between the valley of your breasts. You fixed your posture, pushing your tits together and giving him an eyeful of skin before ranting to him again.

“That’s my baby. My pride and joy. I always made sure everyone at the dock knew who it belonged to. Know why?” You grabbed his hand and pulled on it to make sure he was listening to you, laughing when he tiredly leaned down and forced himself to look away from your sweaty chest to your eyes.

“Enlighten me sweetheart.”

“Because it’s one of the biggest gunships out there. So much space that I don’t actually use. It’s a fucking beauty...but you know what? It’s all a lie. A sad, unfortunate lie. Because it took me spending the better half of the year with that kid and his tincan of a guardian to realize just how small it is. It’s like he put his mark on every corner of my home on purpose...just to drive me insane. Every time I sit somewhere where I’m sure he wouldn’t bother to come to, I’d still smell that- that...that fucking scent of his that I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what it is.” You had thankfully placed the whiskey bottle away from you and didn’t try to fight the tavern-keeper when he took it and put it back on the shelf, instantly returning to you to make sure you weren’t about to break anything.

“I even gave him my room. My room! Because ‘no one can see my face’ so he needs some privacy away from me but then there’s the whole ‘the child stays with me all the time’ and that womp rat can sleep in the little cot in my room with him while also giving him some privacy. Which leaves me, you guessed it, in the shitty lower deck where there is no door, not even a curtain, to give me some semblance of solitude.” You didn’t realize how harshly you were breathing until you stopped speaking and noticed the way the stranger continued to look at you.

“It has been a literal hell not being able to get myself off because he can walk in on me at any given moment. Picture that, not getting off for almost a year while being forced to remain in the same vicinity as him.” You didn’t care when you saw the man almost choke on his drink at your bold admission and looked around to make sure no one heard you. “Ughh, you’ve been such a good boy listening to me whining all night long and I think you deserve a treat.” You knew you had him as soon as he shivered at the way your fingers moved beneath his shirt and scratched his neck. “You look like the kind of guy that could fuck me within an inch of my life. Right?”

“Ah huh. Y-yeah.” He licked his lips before setting down the towel in his hands and inching closer towards you. And you silently swore at how absolutely pathetic he was because not a minute ago, he was trying to find a way out of this conversation and here he was thinking with his probably-disappointing dick.

“Good. And I promise to make it worth your while if you manage to make me forget his name.” You leaned across the counter and were about to kiss him when you saw something move across your peripheral vision, something that looked oddly familiar to your completely hazed mind.

“And what’s his name, baby? So I make sure you can’t rememb-” Before he could finish whatever he was about to say, you felt a large hand wrap around your upper arm and pull you back from the bartender and off of the stool. You almost tripped as you struggled to stand and huffed in anger before raising your voice to the distinguished individual who thought this was the time to fuck with you.

“Hey what are y-” You were about to take a swing at whoever it was currently bruising your arm when you followed the glint of the familiar metal and were met with your reflection staring right back at you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you blinked in confusion a few times at the visor currently tilted in an almost judgemental manner at you before attempting to wipe your hair with your other hand.

The Mandalorian slowly changed his focus to the man behind the bar and threw a few credits at him, hands immediately lowering to the blaster in his side holster when he saw where the tavern-keeper’s eyes moved towards. The stranger could only hold up his hand in defeat before walking towards the other side of the bar to lick his invisible wounds. The Mandalorian’s helmet turned to the rest of the cantina, daring anyone to approach the two of you before you left. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to follow the two of you as you returned to the Revenant. He could feel his patience withering away with every passing moment you decided to share what’s on your mind with the rest of the universe but him.

“Let me go.” You whispered to him, eyes maintained to the ground and cringing when you felt his hold on your arm tighten at the request. Before you could ask him again, Mando was turning around and walking out of the busy cantina, pulling you along with him aggressively and not leaving any room for negotiation. You winced as he pulled you like a child through the streets, avoiding the concerned and intrigued looks you were receiving. He was much taller than you and you laughed when you realized it must have been a sight to see some random woman getting dragged along by an angry bounty hunter. Mando couldn’t help but turn towards you when he heard your giggles break the silence, his annoyance spiking because there was absolutely nothing humorous about this situation.

You noticed the way he was staring at you and decided to quiet down, swallowing the lump in your throat as the cold air hit your sweaty skin and made you shiver.

As you moved closer to the ship, you realized there was a chance he heard what you had to say about him and your ship. Hurt and anxiety rose up your throat and before you could attempt and control the all too familiar feeling, you were tripping over your feet and falling to the ground, instantly vomiting everything you’d managed to eat and drink in the last couple of hours.

The Mandalorian hoped his obviously misplaced outrage wasn’t what led you to such a violent reaction, and he kneeled down immediately to hold your hair away from your face. When he saw tears falling down your cheeks and how hard you were breathing beneath him, something snapped in his chest and he knew he was definitely the reason behind this severe response.

“Don’t- oh gah….kriffing look at me.” You spat in between words and turned away from him, holding onto your stomach and to the grass beneath you as you continued to empty your stomach in the middle of the forest. At least you weren’t in the city anymore.

“We’re close to the ship,” he didn’t know what else to say and chose to state the obvious instead, afraid of using a harsher tone with you. Actually, he did know what to say, he just didn’t trust himself to speak the words out loud yet.

“Wopty fucking doo for-” once again, you opened your mouth and dry heaved until you were sure there wasn’t a single drop of whiskey in your system, “you and your stupid kriffing-”

“Please Ad'ika, let me-” You visibly shook at the familiar endearment you’ve heard him whisper to the child so often when he thought you weren’t around. It hurt to know he was throwing it around as if he wasn’t twisting the knife inside your heart with every breath he took near you.

“Let m-me go, p-please.” Mando’s sudden intake of breath was as loud as the silence engulfing the two of you and you swallowed your pride before looking into his visor, well aware of how awful you must have looked without the reflection staring back at you. He, on the other hand, grasped in that moment just how deep your words in the cantina were and instead of listening to you and allowing you a moment alone, he took a deep breath before softly pushing back your hair and wrapping one arm around your waist. You didn’t have any time to question him as the other went beneath your thighs and before you knew it, you were holding onto his cowl for dear life as he quietly walked up the ramp of the Revenant with you in his arms.

Mando pushed in the code to shut the hatch before making his way through the quiet halls of the ship, reaching hi- your room and going straight to the bed he has occupied in the last few months. As he put you down, he took notice of your body language and knew instantly how self-conscious you must have felt laying on the bed he’s been using since he joined you. The same bed which you sort of commented about not an hour ago. He watched as you forced a smile as soon as you saw the familiar green little womp rat peeking its head right before descending from the safety of his crib and wobbling towards you.

You tried to leave the bed but Mando was ahead of you, gently pushing your shoulder until you realized there was no room for arguing with him. Leaning down, he took the kid and put him back in the crib before telling him he couldn’t cuddle with you tonight.

You kept your hands clasped together and refused to look at him, eyes taking in the room no longer familiar to you. He’d moved things around, even put things away that he didn’t need. Your gaze shifted towards him unintentionally as you saw him approach you with a cup of water and wet towel. Pushing the covers towards you, he sat near your thighs as he handed you the water and began to softly wipe at your cheeks and forehead.

You shut your eyes out of fear of giving more away just by staring at his visor and Mando thanked the stars you had because he wasn’t sure he could truly look at you if they were still open. It was a ridiculous thought because he was wearing a mask and you’d never know how much he loved committing all those little muscle twitches to memory. But it felt strangely intimate to return your gaze and he didn’t want to make you any more uncomfortable tonight.

You sighed heavily at his touch and felt pathetic at how starved you were for anything that had to do with him. The man was wearing gloves and wasn’t technically trailing his fingers over your skin but it still felt difficult to contain yourself.

When he was done, he stood up and moved to the refresher, giving you a few moments alone before he imposed on you again. You gulped down the water and placed the cup on the floor near you, looking out of the large window to your right and noticing the dark blue skies moving slowly above you. It took you a few minutes to recognize that what you were feeling was no longer hurt but confusion. He’s acted so differently tonight and you hated to think it was because he was pitying you. It didn’t matter anymore whether he’d heard what you said about him or not. He would have found out sooner or later, and if you were being honest, you felt like he probably had some inclination for a while before but chose to not bring any attention to the topic to save you from embarrassment and rejection.

“Get some rest.” You turned towards him again, not realizing he’d come back into the room and was standing right beside you. Mando tried his hardest not to give away any of his thoughts but you knew what he was thinking as soon as you saw his helmet tilt down just below your neck.

When you followed his line of sight, you felt ill again but for a completely different reason. Of course this would get worse. You weren’t planning on seeing him tonight and you told yourself you’d have plenty of time to change out of his shirt but it seemed that the universe was not making this any easier on you. Mando couldn’t stop staring at the shirt wrapped so loosely around your smooth skin and how large it looked on you. If he was a decent man, he would have turned away when he saw you shifting uncomfortably under his gaze but he couldn’t help taking in the way your body seemed to react to his presence and before he could think about it, he was stepping closer to the bed and reaching out to touch the material of his shirt falling down your shoulder.

“I- I’m sorry about your s-” The words died in your throat when you felt his gloved fingers trailing down your exposed clavicle and you were torn between asking him what he was doing and letting him carry on without interrupting his curiosity. Mando barely held himself back from pushing you down into the covers and taking what he now knew was his but he noticed the sudden goosebumps erupt on your skin and finally managed to meet your eyes through the visor. The way you were returning his gaze was perhaps too much for him and he flinched away from you, clearing his throat and willing himself to think of anything else but the way you were practically begging him to take you. You parted your lips to say something but couldn’t find your voice, afraid you’d push him more than he could take and drive him away all together.

“It’s fine. It’s...I don’t mi- forget about it. You need to rest.” He spoke softly before walking towards the cot nearby and pushing the crib out of the door.

“Wh-where will you sleep?” You sat up and knew he noticed how much you were holding onto every single interaction with him.

“Good night,” he didn’t bother to respond to the question, turning off the lights and shutting the door behind him before making his way to the cockpit. You sat in silence for a few moments before slithering under the covers, sighing in annoyance when you noticed just how much this entire room smelled like him. Pushing your face into the pillow, you took a deep breath and felt shaken to the core when you were hit with Mando’s distinctive scent: sweat, beskar, and that damn featherfern wash he somehow found every time you flew by Nevarro.

As you looked out the metal blinds, you tried to brace yourself for the conversation you were most definitely going to have with the Mandalorian the next day. You knew for a fact that whatever decision he’d take will ultimately hurt you because there were really only two options available, one of which involved him and the child leaving and the other would lead to them staying but making things awkward since there was not a single chance he would reciprocate your feelings.

And the worst part was, you weren’t sure which was more painful.

The Mandalorian sat quietly in the cockpit for a while, making sure you were asleep so as to not wake you up as he moved through the Revenant. Seeing that the kid was fast asleep, he found himself leaving the small space and navigating to the lower deck. He passed by your room and noticed the lights were off, sighing in relief at knowing that you were finally resting comfortably. Arriving at the lower deck, he stood at the entrance of the large room and felt his chest tighten once he took in the state of the space. Turning on the lights, he immediately noticed your makeshift cot in the far right corner, unable to stop himself from moving towards it to inspect it. He shook his head in anger but this time it was aimed at himself and not you or the random tavern keeper who couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

How did he not know of this arrangement? And why did he not ask about your sleeping situation the day he joined your ship? Was he truly that unconcerned with anyone else but the kid or was it because he was reluctant to listen to Peli when she recommended you?

He’d only been in the lower deck for a few moments yet he felt his skin crawl with goosebumps. It was awfully cool down here and it took him another ten seconds to acknowledge that you’ve been living and sleeping here for this long without complaining once to him.

Everything you said about him earlier tonight crashed into him like a wave of guilt and he couldn’t stay in the room any longer, making his way back to the upper deck to try and figure out what he would say to you come tomorrow. As he slowly moved through the dark hallways of the Revenant, he heard a faint voice coming from the upper deck, muscles tensing instantly when he walked past your room and noticed you weren’t on the bed.

Not wanting to disturb you, he waited right outside the cockpit and listened to you humming to the child. He must have woken up and found his way back to you. As he crossed his arms and stood behind the door, he couldn’t help but notice how soft your voice was as you continued to sing a lullaby to the little womp rat.

How could he have not noticed…

“There you go, you little green goblin. If only I could sleep as quickly as you.” You whispered to him before tucking him into the crib while continuing to rub his abnormally large ears. “Your dad is really funny...thinking I’d be able to sleep in that room with his scent all over it.”

Maker, how were you so forthright with everyone but him? It hurt to know that he wasn’t someone you could whisper your little secrets to. Then again, it made sense since all of your secrets seemed to involve him.

“I pray he doesn’t tell me he has to leave now that he knows I...ughh, for both of our sakes little one.” Mando noticed the way you seemed incapable of finishing your sentences whenever you spoke about him and a deep part of him wished you would, if only to hear the adoration in your words. Rarely anyone spoke of him so softly and he had a feeling he’d only ever accept such words from you. It was quiet for a few minutes before he heard you whisper to the kid again.

“It just hurts to know that he’ll never see me as...as a-” He wasn’t sure if it was the heartbreaking tone of your voice or if it was the way you were reluctant to say your heart’s desire out loud but Mando couldn’t stand another second of you thinking you weren’t important to him.

“As a what?” His voice came out harsher through the vocoder and he winced at himself when he vaguely heard you jumping from the chair. A soft hiss came from the cockpit and he took a deep breath when he realized you’d just shut the crib and moved to leave the room. As you stepped out, Mando forced his eyes to remain on your face, refusing to look at your exposed legs or the way his shirt seemed to end right beneath your upper thighs.

Softly shutting the door, you walked to the opposite side of the room and knew the Mandalorian must have noticed your need to put as much space between the two of you as possible.

“We need to stop running into each other like this,” you laughed awkwardly and anxiously ringed your fingers, glancing at his visor before turning away and looking everywhere else but him. Okay, so humor wasn’t going to get you out of this situation.

“How’s your head?” You could feel how on edge he was and decided to answer with short and straightforward responses just to avoid any more awkwardness.

“M-much clearer.” You stood in silence until you heard the Mandalorian pushing off of the opposite wall and heading towards you. You didn’t have anywhere to go, eyes snapping to the door right behind him and knowing there was no way you could try to walk around him.

He stopped a couple of feet away from you and you ceased to breathe when you noticed how awfully close he was to you.

“Answer my question.” His voice was dangerously low and you found it difficult to try and think of anything to say when he was giving you no room to breathe.

“I- I did?” Your voice was far from confident and you watched as he gently took off both of his gloves before shoving them into his pockets. Even though he willingly removed them in front of you, you didn’t allow yourself to look at his skin, afraid you’d somehow offend him and his Creed. But then you saw his hand move towards your face, and gasped when you felt his fingers tilting your chin so you were looking into his visor. There was not an inclination of an emotion available to you but you forced yourself to keep your eyes open nonetheless.

“How do you want me to see you Mesh'la?” Mando whispered down to you and you swore his voice was hoarse as he spoke to you but you didn’t allow this moment to get to your head. It would hurt more than anything if…

“It d-doesn’t matter.” You blinked away the tears, wanting to wipe your face before anymore were shed but not finding it in yourself to move away from him. But then you felt his thumb softly rubbing at your wet skin, making you almost lose your composure as soon as he stepped closer in your space until your back hit the wall.

“I’m sorry Cyar'ika,” his chest was inches from your face, cornering you beneath his other arm before leaning down and resting his forehead against yours. You couldn’t breath, not when he was suddenly filling all of your senses as if it was the most natural thing to do. He felt your tears roll around his thumb and couldn’t bear the thought of you crying because of him.

“I’m sorry for making you think you don’t matter...you do, not just to the kid but- but to me as well.” Your knees gave out on you as soon as you heard Mando’s confession, barely managing to grab onto his forearms right before buckling against him. The Mandalorian wasn’t sure if that was the kind of reaction he was looking for but he immediately wrapped his arms around your back and legs before pulling you against his chest. You nuzzled into his chest and kept a tight hold on him as he walked through the dimly lit hallways back to your room. He could feel goosebumps take over the skin of your thighs where he was touching you and tried to distract himself from pushing you down into the middle of the Revenant and taking you right then and there. You deserved more than that.

As he reached the room and laid you on the bed, he felt your fingers clasp onto him harder and when his eyes trailed over your face, he knew you were silently begging him not to leave.

“I’m not going anywhere Ad'ika.” His reassuring tone tugged at your heart and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you watched him walk to the door and shut it behind him before moving to the refresher. You heard him shuffle around and allowed your mind to calm down, knowing very well that Mando wasn’t unkind and wouldn’t lead you on just to leave you. But then he walked out without his beskar armor and you swore you died and joined the stars. His helmet looked odd without his normal clothing and you knew he could probably see you shamelessly ogling him from across the room.

He walked to you and stood to the side, and you realized he was probably nervous. You pushed yourself against the wall and threw back the covers, hoping he’d understand what you wanted of him.

“Can I-”

“Please.” You cut him off before he could finish his question and he took a deep breath before laying on the bed and moving as close to you as possible. Before he could throw the covers over the two of you, you were already laying your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around him, fingers fisting into the soft material of his shirt unintentionally as you felt him relax beneath you.

You weren’t sure how long it’s been but you felt his heart rate finally come back to normal. Hoping you weren’t being too forward with him, you took his hand into yours and brought it to your lips, softly kissing his knuckles before turning his palm over to lay a kiss on his wrist. Mando was losing every ounce of control left in his body and his arm tightened around your back as soon as he felt the tip of your tongue against his hand.

“Pfassk,” you flinched at the rough expletive and raised your head to look at him, finding his visor already tilted down towards you. “I- I’m sorry I’ll stop if-”

“No..n-no, don’t stop. It just- you took me by surprise.” His chest was rising and falling more rapidly and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was as affected by this new level of ‘intimacy’ as you were, if not more.

You felt bold at his request, kicking the covers away before sitting up and moving to straddle his thighs. Mando was breathing harshly and mirrored your actions, sitting up against the cool metal of the wall before laying his hands on top of your exposed thighs. He let himself take in the way your skin flushed under his touch and smiled to himself when he continued to inch his smooth hands over your upper thighs until his shirt rid up your legs and revealed the pastel color of your undergarment.

“Cyar'ika…” He sighed when he finally forced himself to meet your eyes and found them dilated until there was barely any color left in them. You wanted to ask him what that word meant but chose to file it for later. Placing your hands on top of his, you smiled down at him before pulling them towards your lips and kissing his palms. Almost instantly, you felt him twitch against you, unable to control himself from bucking his hips against your heated core. You let go of his hands and laid your own on his chest, throwing your head back when you felt his tight grip on your thighs. You could tell he wanted to apologize but gave him no chance to do so, sliding against him until you were sure he was painfully hard beneath you.

“Maker...I- I could almost taste you on my tongue Mando. When you- you left me in here all by myself. I couldn’t sleep, n-not when I could smell you on these covers, not when I could feel you on my skin. I..gods, wanted to kiss you then, and- and I wanted to taste your- you...Please, c-can I? P-please-” You dug your nails into his chest and heard him throw his head back against the wall with every confession you moaned to him. He was never this unhinged and you wished to see him come absolutely undone at your touch.

“A-are you sure?” It pained him to ask but he needed to be sure that you wouldn’t regret this. Regret him.

“Mando, have you not listened to anything I’ve said tonight?” As much as you hated to remind him of the earlier and rather embarrassing events, you wanted him to know just how much he meant to you. You knew he was reluctant to let this relationship move forward and you couldn’t really blame him. This was all new to him. But you also didn’t want to stall, not when the two of you have become so aware of the other’s feelings.

You continued to rub yourself on him, shaking with anticipation when you heard him moan through the vocoder as you pressed yourself more confidently down on him.

“Mesh'la I-” Without warning, you took one of his hands and pushed it to your lips, slowly taking two of his fingers into your mouth and swirling your tongue around them until his moans grew louder. And when he pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth, you gripped his wrist tightly and groaned, making sure he could feel how much you wanted him.

“Y-you’re killing me sweet girl.” He wanted to loosen his hold on you, to take things slow, to not let himself get carried away with you, but he didn’t find it in himself to be gentle because he could feel how wet and needy you were above him and there was no way he was going to waste another second not being close to you.

“Please Mando, I want you, n-need to have you. I can make you feel so good. Please, can I?” You reached down and cupped him through his pants, finding him as hard as the beskar of his armor. He thrust up into your hand and swore violently before taking his hand away from your mouth and fisting it into your hair. You smiled when you felt him push you off of him, whispering something in Mando’a when he saw you pulling his pants down his thighs and throwing them behind you.

You bit your lower lip before moving off of the bed and pushing his legs along with you as well. Mando sat up and forced his hands to remain by his side, afraid his enthusiasm would make him get too rough with you and scare you away. When you laid your hands on his knees and pushed them wide open so you could get comfortable between his legs, Mando’s hands tightened around the covers and he hissed when he saw the way you were eyeing his cock. You were staring at him like he was a piece of meat and he wasn’t sure if he loved it or was embarrassed by it.

“Maker,” you whispered before dragging your nails up and down his thighs, watching as his cock twitched against his stomach every time you got a little aggressive with your touches. Looking up into his visor, you slowly leaned down and took the tip of his cock in your mouth, humming around him as you tasted precum leaking into your taste buds. That seemed to do it for him because one of his hands shot to the back of your head and fisted into your hair while the other moved down until it landed on your hand. He intertwined his fingers with yours and watched as you pulled back and licked the underside of his dick before spitting into your hand and wrapping it around him.

“M-mando, the taste of you,” you took as much of him in your mouth as possible while maintaining eye contact with his helmet, squeezing the base of his cock before reaching down and cupping his balls. Mando swore, involuntarily thrusting into your mouth and watching in awe as he saw a dangerous glint in your eyes right before you clasped his hand harder and somehow managed to take him in deeper. It was such a sight, holding affectionately onto your hand as you brought him to pleasure. Letting go of him with a pop, you laid wet kisses down the length of his cock, licking the protruding veins and smiling when you felt his hold tighten on your hair. “Is absolutely addicting.”

You could tell the exact second he lost all semblance of control because one minute you were kneeling at his feet, and the next thing you knew, Mando was pulling you up by your hair and throwing you beneath him on the bed. You wiped your lips with the back of your hand, watching his muscles flex as he removed his shirt expertly over his helmet. The soft starlight coming through the metal blinds of the window shone onto his skin and you trailed your gaze down his chest, finding the golden brown tone of his scarred body absolutely breathtaking.

“Mando, you’re beautiful.” You saw his hands begin to shake at your compliment, and you knew you’d take every chance you get from now on to tell him how much you adored him. You could hear him breathing through the mask and licked your lips when he looked down and saw the way you were playing with the hem of his shirt. Slowly, you began to pull on the soft material, about to take it off when he held onto your wrists. Your smile faltered for a second and hoped you didn’t somehow misunderstand his intentions.

The last thing Mando wished to see was your body giving away to shyness before him. Pushing your thighs open, he didn’t give you a chance to say anything else as he slid his fingers below the thin undergarment, violently ripping it off of you and discarding it onto the floor. You gasped when you felt him hard and heavy against your slit, taking both of his hands and pulling him towards you until he was only a hairbreadth away. He watched closely as you placed one hand around your throat while the other descended to your breast. You could tell Mando was reluctant to move so much an inch and when you pushed yourself against him, eyes daring him to do as he wishes, he found himself completely overtaken with the thought of you belonging to him and him only. You smiled when you felt the grip on your throat tighten, shutting your eyes and arching your back against him as the other cupped and pinched at your nipples through his shirt.

“If you want me to fuck you tonight, Mesh'la, then you’re going to keep my shirt on.” He could feel you shaking in his arms and smiled to himself at the knowledge of how much he affected you.

“Mando, please…” You would have continued begging him if he asked you to, but then he was moving away from you and leaning towards the window. Keeping your hands clasped to your chest, you watched as he shut the blinds until there wasn’t a single light shining into the room. You could barely see your own hands in the dark and wondered why he was shuffling above you. A soft hissing sound had you tensing in an instant and you ceased to breathe when you heard the faint sound of beskar hitting the ground.

“M-mando?” The question was more reluctant than inquisitive and you didn’t have time to react as you felt him lean against you until you were touching every inch of his skin. You blinked a few times in vain, knowing there was no way you would be able to see anything. But then you felt something soft brush against your cheek and as you turned your head towards him, Mando was molding his lips with yours, swallowing your gasps and sucking on your tongue as soon as you melted into him. He pulled away against his own will, but not before pushing your jaw with his nose until your neck was available to him.

“And my name is Din sweet girl, Din Djarin. It better be the only word you scream tonight as I fuck this pretty little cunt. Understood?” You weren’t sure if it was his deep voice that made you speechless or the fact that he not only took off his helmet for you but willingly told you his name as well. You committed it to memory, hoping this wouldn’t be the only time he took off his helmet around you. You’d always wondered what he sounded like without it, not comprehending that it could be so much sweeter than what you’ve dreamed of. And by the gods, his lips. How were they so soft and gentle? Maker, he had a stubble too, not a rough one but just long enough to tickle your neck as he kissed and nipped at your clavicle.

“Answer me Ad'ika.” He bit your shoulder to grab your attention once more, chuckling above you when you nodded frantically against him.

“You’re so soft Cyar'ika, I- I want to kiss every inch of your skin.” As much as you loved making him lose his mind at your touch, you had to admit you enjoyed him much more when he was in control. You smiled when he kissed along your shoulder before pushing down his shirt far enough to expose your breasts. Din bit down on his lower lip to contain himself, but then you were arching your back and pushing yourself into him and he couldn’t hold back. He kissed down your sternum, waiting until you relaxed in his arms before assaulting your nipples. You screamed his name as you felt his teeth tug on your nipple, hands shooting to his hair when you felt him grope and pull on the other.

“Din, oh ma-maker- your mouth is...f-fuck.” You could tell he was smiling as he aggressively licked the hardened bud before sucking on it again. Din pushed his cock against your wet slit, growling when you pulled on his hair and cried his name like a sweet prayer.

“I could smell your cunt sweet girl, so fucking wet and hot and ready for me.” Din pulled back and cornered you between his arms, bucking his hips into you until you were a needy and moaning mess beneath him. “Woke up countless times in this bed...hard and aching at the mere thought of you...d-dreaming of having you in my arms, wanting to sink into you, f-fuck you on every inch of this ship.”

“Din, please...I need you.”

The way you clawed at his back broke him and before he knew what he was doing, he was flipping you on your stomach and raising your hips against him.

“I need to have you Mesh'la.” Din leaned down and swiped your hair to the side, whispering the filthiest things in your ears as he took hold of his cock and rubbed it against your heat.

“I’m yours Din, do what you want. Fuck me, ruin me...cum in me if you wish. Just p-please-”

You made it sound so simple, trusting him. It was an odd feeling to know how easily you were giving yourself to him. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, not after what you said tonight. But something about the way you offered yourself to him, especially with that last request, had him seeing stars.

Leaning down until his chest was sliding against your back, the Mandalorian held you against him with one arm across your front while he slowly slipped into your wet cunt. You sighed in unison, and Din felt a sense of pride fill his chest when you dug your nails into his arm while your legs began to shake beneath him.

“You’re a dream Cyar'ika, the best f-fucking dream I could ever have. And you’re all mine.”

“Y-yes, yours. I’ve always been yours, oh gods Din please, move. M-move.” You were babbling at this point but couldn’t find it in yourself to care, turning your head to the side just to feel him breathe against your cheek. His stubble rubbed deliciously at your heated and sensitive skin, and you would tell him later that you hoped he’d mirror those actions but elsewhere.

“So tight darling, I- you’re everything. The things I- uhhh, the thing I want to do to you.” Din achingly pulled out before snapping into you again, biting down on your shoulder when you clenched violently around him.

“Din, oh Din-” You wished you could tell him how good he felt, how much he filled you, how often you craved having him inside you and how much you were losing it now that he was. But you couldn’t find a single word, not when he was fucking you like you were it for him.

The normally quiet man was groaning and hissing above you, pulling you along with him as he sat up and continued to fuck you relentlessly. You reached back and held his head against your neck, crying in pain and pleasure when he picked up the pace and his hold on your hip tightened. You were sure there would be bruise marks the next day but you couldn’t tell him to slow down or be a little less aggressive, not when you finally had him where you’ve wanted for so long.

“Fuck, fuck….sweet girl, did- did you mean it?” He was asking you something and you didn’t really pay attention to him, focusing on the way he deliciously dragged against your tight walls over and over again. Din knew it wasn’t fair to ask you anything right now but he had to know. Needed to.

He stopped his movement all together, sinking as deep into you as possible and tightening his grip on your throat.

“Pfassk...answer me darling.” Din whispered into your ears and reached down to where you were joined, softly slapping your clit until you twitched and begged him to repeat his words again.

“I said, did you fucking mean it when- kriffing hell, when you said I could...c-cum in you?” He was reluctant to ask but there was no point in denying either of you.

“Yes, gods yes. I told you Din, d-do what you want with me.” You forcibly loosened the fingers around your throat and brought them to your lips, biting the palm of his hand as he resumed thrusting into you.

“Mesh'la...you’re such a sweet girl, letting me b-breed you...taking my cock so well, letting me fill you up. You were made for me darling. This cunt, this sweetest and tightest kriffing pussy was made for my cock.” He pronounced each word with a harsh push of his hips and you smiled when you heard how low his voice suddenly became. The sounds of skin slapping on skin filled the room and you hoped the child wouldn’t wake up from how loud the two of you were being.

“You’re mine darling. Won’t let anyone else touch you...fucking look at you even. Maker I- I almost lost it tonight in the cantina.” There was a hint of self-consciousness in his words and you hoped he didn’t think you could ever replace him.

“D-din..” You wanted to tell him no one else would compare but he didn’t give you a chance.

“Talking about me like I- fuck, like I didn’t care about you, like I don’t picture you coming on my cock every waking moment of my day. And flirting with him in my shirt...my kriffing shirt. I almost lost it when he put his hands on you sweet girl.” You weren’t sure if he had somehow become harder inside you or if it was his words that made you attuned to the feeling of him pushing into your cunt but you turned your head and kissed his cheeks, hoping he’d understand what you were trying to tell him with your touches.

“You’re the only one f-for me.” Din let go of your neck and held onto your hips, no longer caring about how rough he was being with you. Your heavy sighs were the only warning he had right before your tight walls convulsed around his dick and he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, falling on top of you and bucking his hips slowly into your cunt until you begged him to slow down.

“Cyare, ah pfassk, that’s it. Keep squeezing me darling. I’m so close, so close. Ah fuck, you’re mine. Mine, not letting you go. N-never letting you go. Oh maker...ner runi...ner. Ner. Riduur. My sweet girl...riduur.” Din didn’t realize what he’d said until the words were left hanging in the air and he felt a rush of relief wash over him as he finally admitted how he felt about you.

“Din, I lo- ahh gods please.” He silenced your screams with his hand, losing his rhythm as he came in hot spurts of cum inside you. Din bit down onto your shoulder just as you bit on the palm of his hand, continuing to push his seed deep inside you until he felt you a mixture of your juices seeping out of you. Neither of you moved for a few moments, relishing the way you fit so perfectly with each other. You could feel him breathing heavily against your back and smiled with pride when you realized you were the only one that got to see him like this.

Din didn’t want to stop touching you, falling to the side and grabbing your flush to him only to hiss when you unintentionally clenched around his softening cock. You kissed his wrist as he pulled the covers over the two of you, not bothering to move a muscle mostly because you knew he didn’t wish for you to leave him.

He kissed along the bruised ridges of your shoulders, drawing circles on your navel and smiling when you giggled beneath him.

“I wasn’t too rough with you was I?” He asked embarrassingly, not knowing what he’d do if you said yes.

“You were perfect Din...you- you are perfect.” You turned your head far enough in hopes of catching his attention, letting out a deep breath when he leaned over and captured your lips in a chaste kiss. He was so soft and you didn’t know which side of him you enjoyed more but you were sure you wanted to get to know him, all of him. His likes and dislikes.

“Far from it Mesh'la. I...I went to the lower deck and saw where you’ve been sleeping.”

“Oh…”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Din rose on his elbow, seeking your hands in the dark and holding onto your fingers as he raised your hand to his mouth and kissed along your hand.

“I- I didn’t want to make you think you weren’t welcome. Peli told me about the Creed and well, there isn’t any sort of privacy down there really. And the kid would’ve been cold. I know how much he likes to cuddle next to you when he sleeps.”

“But you’ve been-”

“I’ve slept in worse conditions, believe me.” He didn’t say anything else in response but you knew he was very much thinking about it.

“Din, I wouldn’t change a single moment. Not one. Because each one led me here, to this bed, in your arms. I would relive every mission and every cold night and every awkward conversation again if I knew I’d end up here with you. You’re the closest thing I have to a..a-”

“Family.” He broke the silence before lying back down and pulling you as close to him as possible.

“Promise me you won’t get drunk by yourself in a cantina again.” You wished you didn’t laugh out loud at the random request because Din swore behind you before his grip loosened a bit.

“I’m sorry I...I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just, here I am pouring my heart out and the only thing you could follow up with was that.” When he didn’t say anything in return, you grabbed his arm and pulled him back to you. “And yes, I promise not to get drunk in a cantina by myself ever again.”

“Good.”

“But I can’t really make any promises about not flirting with anyone because if it means I get to have you all hot and bothered then-”

“Sweet girl, you’re going to regret ever thinking of that…”

Translations:

Sleemo - This Huttese insult was pronounced slay-mo and translated as "slimeball," a rude insult.

Ad'ika - Little one

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Pfassk - An adaptable expletive

Cyare - Beloved

Ner - Mine.

Runi - soul; only used poetically

Riduur - partner, spouse, husband/wife

#The Mandalorian fanfiction #The Mandalorian x Reader #The Mandalorian smut #mando x reader #Mando smut #Mando fanfiction #Din Djarin x Reader #Din Djarin smut #Din Djarin fanfiction #The Mandalorian #Din Djarin #Pedro Pascal #star wars #star wars fanfiction #baby yoda #grogu

1K notes · View notes

theangstyboiblog · 3 years

Text

Shower Time - Saul Silva x Reader Smut

@kingunder221b Hey! Could I request a Saul Silva x reader, smut, scenario: a fight, maybe Saul is jealous over something, arguing and then obvs make up smut and some fluff in the end. You rock!

Ahhhh I love this and while I’m not super into writing jealous characters, I know it happens. I tried to put that in but gah it was hard and I was scared I was making Saul petty. So, we ended up with this. Also somehow this went super angsty in the middle and it took everything in me to pull it back to fluff at the end. <3

Pairing: Saul Silva x Reader

Wordcount: 2.6k

Warnings: smut most definitely happens, I was inspired <3 Some language.

Quick Summary: Saul and Y/N have been dating since they attended Alfea. Now they are on different specialist teams at the Battalion in Solaria. When Saul hears Y/N’s team is transferring to Eraklyon, questions start to hound him.

Saul POV

Saul tried not to think about it. He tried to look happy for you, tried to be supportive. He knew, when you’d been assigned to differing teams, that at some point one of you would have to leave. But he had always thought that he would be the one leaving and that thought had been easier to bear.

Leaving was so much easier than staying. He wasn’t ready to be the one left behind.

One year seemed like an endless eternal road that had no end, that just kept moving forward while his feet seemed to sink into the dirt. His stomach churned. One year. You’d be away for a year and if the burned one attacks worsened, maybe even longer.

Heaving a sigh, he glanced up at the stars and turned back around to lean against the trunk of the tree, peering down the hill at the bonfire. Whoops and hollers and music filled the air as the battalion celebrated your team’s last night in Solaria before you shipped out tomorrow at noon. He bit the inside of his cheek as a familiar figure broke away from the crowd and climbed up the hill towards him. Each step you took closer to him, sent a spiral of questions through his head.

What if something happens?

What if you don’t come back?

What if I never see you again?

What if you forget me? What if I forget you?

That last question had him shaking his head. There was no way in hell he’d ever forget you, move on without you, love anyone else. But the distance. The distance presented an immeasurable strain that weighed on his shoulders every second. A wave of anger he didn’t know what to do with hit him and he narrowed his eyes as you came nearer. He knew he wasn’t mad at you but the anger needed to go somewhere and he didn’t trust himself to not aim it at you. That was why he was up the hill and not down partying with everyone else.

Lifting his cup, he took a quick sip of beer and shook his head with aggravation. God knows he loved a good party.

Your POV

“Hey,” you said softly, drawing closer to the tree at the top of the hill, the light of the moon helping you make out just the slight shadow of a man, the glint of eyes peering over at you. Your voice almost breathless from the dancing and the laughing. “What’re you doing up here?”

“Thinking,” Saul’s reply came, low and gravelly as if he’d spent the day shouting, which if you remembered your afternoon sparring drills correctly, he had.

You smirked. “Well, that’s never a good sign.” He didn’t say anything and you could practically hear the gears working overtime inside that head of his. Slipping your hands in your pockets, you sighed and moved closer, the shadows of the branched blocking out what little light came from the sky. “What are you thinking?” You asked softly, leaning against the tree and peering up at him. He didn’t look at you and you didn’t touch him, even though keeping your hands to yourself was killing you.

“You,” he said finally, as he looked up at the stars.

“Aww,” you sang, “it’s like you know just what to say, Saul.”

He cut his eyes at you. “Not really. What I want to say is…” he trailed off and turned back to the sky. You waited. You gave him time. You could hear the seconds ticking by. You leaned to the side, trying to catch his gaze again.

“What you want to say is…?” you prompted.

Saul’s head turned and he looked down at you with a pain in his eyes that you rarely ever saw. It was a lonely sort of pain usually reserved for late nights. For when a friend died, for when he spoke about his family. Glimpses of it had escaped him before but nothing like this. This somber gaze didn’t have a mask, it wasn’t trying to hide itself.

He turned away. “You should head back to the party,” he said nodding as a fountain of sparks erupted from the bonfire below, one of the fire fairies having a little too much fun.

Your mouth dropped open. “What the fuck?” You pushed off the tree as he sighed.

“Y/N…”

“No, you are not doing this on my last night here. You’re not shutting me out just to avoid handling your feelings and talk to me like the grown ass man you are.”

Saul rounded on you. “I don’t want to argue with you,” he said, pointing down the hill. “This is why I’m up here and not down there.”

“Hiding,” you nodded your head, “you’re up here hiding because you’re scared—”

“I am scared!” he said, stepping towards you, voice raised. You stepped back as he continued. “You’re leaving and all I can think of is that this might be the last time I see you and I feel like I can’t breathe. And everyone else is celebrating it but I can’t, Y/N. Every scenario has gone through my head since your orders came through and every bad thought, every bad thing that could possibly happen— I’ve thought about it and it terrifies me.” Saul took a deep breath as you cupped his cheek, tears pricking at your eyes as his hands settled on your waist. He pulled you to him and you pressed your face into the corner of his neck. His lips pressed against your temple as his voice cracked. “I don’t want to be alone again,” he whispered.

The dam burst and your tears fell as you held onto him tighter shaking your head. You leaned back.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen,” you told him catching his face between your hands as he shook his head. “But you don’t know what’s going to happen either,” he leaned against you, hands shaking as they moved to press into your back. “I will fight like hell to come back to you though and I expect you to be here when I do.”

Saul blinked and stared into your eyes as you held your own steady gaze. Unspoken words passed between you.

“I’ll be here,” he murmured finally.

“All in one piece,” you told him, as the thought struck you that if you didn’t say it, you’d most likely come back to half a Saul.

“All in one piece, or as close to it as possible,” he said, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Reaching down, you pulled his hand away from your body, your fingers sliding perfectly to lock with his. You stepped back leading him after you, guiding him away from the bonfire and back towards the main camp. He narrowed his eyes.

“Y/N?” he called your name, lilting that last syllable teasingly.

You shrugged, picking up the pace. “If everyone is here, then that means we might actually have a chance for once,” you told him. Turning around you tugged on his hand and quietly made your way back to base.

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

Steam had long since filled the room as you bathed and readied yourself, eyes casually glancing towards the door to the baths. You ground your teeth in annoyance, feeling as if you’d been in the showers forever, long since cleaned and wound tightly on an edge you had to force yourself to cling to. You almost wondered if he had gotten lost somewhere.

If he doesn’t hurry up, I swear to god.

Almost as if he had known what you were thinking, the door to the baths opened and Saul slipped inside, looking over his shoulder as if he’d been chased.

“What took you so long?” you hissed, and he spun around a blush creeping over his cheeks as he peered through the steam, finally laying eyes on you in the stall at the end of the row.

“Sneaking into the women’s shower room is harder than it sounds,” he murmured, glancing at the door behind him. You rolled your eyes as he peeled off his jacket, followed by his shirt.

“It can’t be that hard. I hear Andreas does it regularly.”

Saul tossed his shirt onto the bench and turned to you, eyebrows inching up ever higher. “What?” he asked, his voice half surprised and maybe a quarter impressed and another quarter disturbed.

“Did you get one?” You asked, ignoring the question as you peered over the half wall of the shower stall. Saul reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a little square package with a smirk. You stepped back, water rushing down on your shoulders. “Hurry up then,” you told him as you turned around, pushing your hair back as the water washed over your face soothingly. The thud of boots echoed on the tile and you smiled leaning back out of the water, taking a deep breath. The door to your stall squeaked open and you glanced over your shoulder as cool hands ran over the skin of your waist.

“Did you get started without me?” Saul asked, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. His left hand dropped lower and lower before rejoining his other hand, hugging you to him. You chuckled.

“Maybe?” you teased. “You were gone for a long time.”

“Naughty,” he mumbled lowly. His arms tightened around you as he leaned down and ran his lips down your neck and across the back of your shoulder. You pursed your lips trying to hide your smile as he ran a hand over your flesh a warm pressure tightening around you whenever he gripped just the right spot. Shaking your head, you twisted in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck.

“You,” you leaned forward and mouthed at his collarbone, teeth faintly scraping over the skin as he took in a quick breath, “are just mad that you didn’t get to watch.” You ran your hand over his stomach, smirking at the tensing muscles as you moved lower. You raised an eyebrow as you took him in your hand. “But you’re here now,” you rose on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his lightly at first.

Saul’s hand drifted down, palming the cheek of your ass as the kiss deepened and you moved your hand around him, squeezing just enough to make him break out in a gasp against you. You smiled as his hands tangled in your hair and he pulled you back in for another kiss, his tongue lightly teasing yours. Together, you stayed like that, your back against the wall, him trapping you against it, warm water rushing over the both of you adding to the already building heat. Your hand stayed on his cock as his knee slipped between your thighs, one hand moving between you until you felt him pressing into you.

“Saul…” you moaned his name as he ground into your palm, the feel of his fingers sending a shock of pleasure up the ladder of your spine.

“You really did start without me,” he murmured nipping at your skin. A flash of heat had you burying your face in his neck, releasing him to wrap your arms round his shoulders. “You ready?” he asked, crooking his fingers.

You ground down and groaned. “Just hurry up,” you breathed, pushing at his chest.

Saul’s shoulders shook as his hands left you empty, a soft whine leaving you as he stepped back, turning on his heel. Cocking your head, you watched as he stepped out of the stall and went to the bench, bending down to pick something up. He tossed the empty wrapper on the bench and looked down working the condom over his length. Turning around you pulled your hair over one shoulder and faced the wall, closing your eyes, and breathing in nice and deep.

When the door creaked open, you set your hands against the tile wall as he came up behind you. His lips latched on to your skin, tongue laving at the droplets of water that rolled from the nape of your neck and dove down your spine. He pulled you to him, hands guiding your hips back as you spread your legs and leaned against the wall, bracing yourself as he pressed his cock against you. He pushed in.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, closing your eyes as he moved within you, sliding deeper and deeper. You reached to the side, grabbing the top of the side of the stall as your knees bent. His arms snaked around you pulling you back against him as if he wanted there to be as little room between you as possible. He bucked and you reached back, gripping his hip. “Wait, wait, wait,” you breathed as you felt every inch of him throb inside.

A hot shot of air blew over your neck as he groaned. But his hips stilled and you nearly thanked him, but it felt like a vice was wrapped around your lungs.

“Y/N,” he rasped after a moment, “I can’t… fuck.” He bowed down pressing his forehead to your shoulder and you knew he couldn’t wait any longer. Neither could you. Biting your lip, you flexed your hips, rolling against him slowly as the breath was pushed from your lungs. He stiffened before his hands dropped to your hips and he pulled away before thrusting back against you.

Water on tile, skin on skin, breathy whines and drawn-out moans filled the room as you each found your shared rhythm and fell into sync. Harder. Faster. Slow and grinding. Everything. You clawed at the wall as you rose up, arching back against him as your hand moved between your legs.

With a hiss, Saul’s rhythm stuttered without warning as he thrusted again and again, his voice calling out hoarsely as he came grinding against you. Your head dropped forward with a gasp as he settled deep inside. Then an emptiness filled you as he slipped out. You mewled as you turned around to face him, still touching yourself as you leaned against the shower wall. He settled on one side of the stall, chest heaving as he watched you, mouth open, eyes dropping down to watch as you teased your center.

“Saul,” you moaned his name, turning your head to the side as the pleasure condensed into a tight ball in your belly. “Saul, I want to… I need…”

Pushing off the wall he sauntered over to you pressing his hand over yours helping you along as he mouthed his way across your collarbones.

“Come for me, love,” he sighed, “that’s it. Yeah—“

Beyond control your hips moved faster and faster, body shaking as you cried out. Your voice echoed through the room, so loud you were sure that if anyone was in the hallway, they would most definitely hear you. But then your cries died down as Saul kissed you, still working you through your climax. Your chest rose and fell as the high finally died down, your nails prying away from his skin as you broke away, breathless. Saul leaned against you, holding you up as your legs threatened to give out.

“I don’t know how I’m going to survive without you,” he breathed as he kissed you, moving from your mouth to your cheek, finally resting against your temple.

“There’s always phone sex,” you pointed out. Saul’s eyes lifted up as he considered it.

“It’d be a bit awkward, wouldn’t it?” he asked, looking back down at you, the back if his fingers running over your cheek. “Doing it in the commons. Where anyone could hear.”

You clicked your tongue and sighed, running your hands through his wet hair.

“That’s why I told you to get a cell phone, Lieutenant Silva, for the privacy.”

#saul silva #Saul Silva x reader #fate: the winx saga #Saul Silva smut #submission

283 notes · View notes