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begrudging-fudanshi · 1 month ago

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Do you think Sakura will go back to the old town in certain arc ?

Assuming you mean wherever his guardians live(d), I hope not tbh. Wind Breaker is a very local story for its genre—as far as I can tell, everything important happens within walking distance of Furin—so I kinda prefer it to stay in Makochi as much as possible. (I have a thing I'm writing about this that I'll post at some point.) Based on what we know, I also don't really see what Sakura has to gain from going back.

If anything happens in this vein, I would actually prefer for Sakura's past to catch up with him in Makochi. Having some old enemy appear and threaten him would be a great way to show how far he's come, as well as to catalyze his progress towards seeing worth in himself.

I started sketching an example of how I might like that kind of arc to go and it kinda turned out a lot longer than I expected, so here's... uh... actually, I don't entirely know what this is. It's like a short fanfic mashed up with the meta I'd write about these moments if they were canon. Speculative meta? Metafic? Just a weird fanfic? idk 🤷‍♂️

Anyway, not saying this will/should be canon or anything, but it feels like it gets the gist of what I'd look for in this kind of arc.

(CW: abusive parents. Sakura's dad is the villain here.)

---

When Sakura was young, his dad was a petty criminal, street thug, and an all-around horrible father. When Sakura was 7 or 8, the man was arrested and sentenced to prison. Sakura's mom wasn't in the picture, so Sakura had to go live with relatives (leading to the scenario I've described previously), and afterward he hardly ever saw his dad—their only contact was when the man came to demand money from his relatives for this or that. As far as Sakura was concerned, once he moved to Makochi, his father was out of his life for good.

One day, however, Sakura's dad appears in Makochi, searching for him. He's somehow learned that Sakura has become a strong fighter in a town full of violent gangs, so he's decided that he's going to take advantage of Sakura to build a nice life for himself on the back of his son's hard work. Thus, he comes to Makochi expecting to walk all over Sakura and get whatever he wants.

When Sakura first sees his dad on Tonpu Market Street, he freezes, caught off guard by painful memories that he's desperately tried to forget. Even though he's come a long way, it's difficult to fully let go of the past.

Suo and Nirei are with him and can tell that he's terrified. Sakura mutters to them that this is his father, but he doesn't sound remotely happy to see him. The man tells them to go away, but they stand their ground, refusing to leave Sakura alone. This pisses the man off, so he attacks, intending to teach them a lesson.

Sakura's dad is caught off guard by Suo and even Nirei's strength, but the same goes in reverse as he decides to go all out. As Sakura sees his friends struggling, he jumps into the fight, punching his dad in the face (big symbolic moment!). The trio just barely manage to hold their ground until other Bofurin members start to show up. As their backup arrives, the man finally retreats, but before he goes, he declares that he's going to get revenge. He says that Sakura has forgotten his place and he's going to remind him what his life is really supposed to be like—he'll take away everything Sakura has and show him just what he really deserves.

What follows is a campaign of revenge, carefully calculated to destroy Sakura's life and take everything he has. (A campaign that I'm not going to detail right now, because my ideas for it are depressing and beside the point.)

Let's skip ahead a bit...

Somehow all of the threats are resolved, leaving only the matter of fighting Sakura's dad and kicking his ass hard enough that he'll give up.

Just before the big, climactic fight, Sakura gets ready to face his father one-on-one, trying to stay calm and steady himself. He's caught off guard when his friends jump in front of him and tell him to let them handle the fight.

"Get out of the way!" Sakura yells at them, his voice breaking. "He's... he's my dad. This is my fight. I have to deal with this." The most important word is the one he doesn't even think to say out loud: he has to deal with this alone.

Even with so many people around him showing him that he's loved, Sakura still ultimately believes that he's all by himself. Even though he's tried to rely on his friends to prove that he trusts them, in moments like this when he feels most vulnerable, his default instinct is still to shoulder the burden alone.

His friends can all see this clearly. More importantly, they can see that this is a battle that Sakura shouldn't have to fight on his own—or at all. He deserves to have someone stick up for him, just like he's stuck up for so many others. But they know he doesn't want to hear that, so they tell him off, instead.

"Your fight? To hell with that. We all owe this guy some payback for what he's done."

"C'mon, Sakura, let us have some glory for once. It makes us feel bad when you keep hogging all the action."

"We already know how strong you are—let us show you how much stronger we've gotten, too!"

"Plus, the way this guy treats you makes us really want to kick his ass. Don't tell us you're gonna rob us of that satisfaction."

Sakura sputters in confusion, not sure how to respond. His deepest reflexes are telling him to stop them before it's too late, because this is how he's always believed he would finally lose everything. If he can't fight, if he can't prove his worth through his strength, then what is he worth at all?

This leads to a cool symbolic moment: Sakura is standing there, watching all his friends walk away from him while making it clear they expect him to stay behind. In other words, he's seeing the scene that's haunted him for so long finally playing out in real life. How many times has he pictured this and felt sick with terror and dread?

In his heart, he always knew this day would come. The day when his friends finally saw through him—finally realized who he really was and what he was really worth—and unanimously turned their backs. That would be the day he finally woke up from this dream and found himself back in his old, real life. The life he was always meant to live. Hated by all others, worth nothing but his fists, and totally, utterly alone.

Except, in reality, this scene isn't anything like he imagined it at all. His friends aren't turning their backs on him because they're abandoning him. Instead, they've turned to fight for him, to protect him, just as he's fought and protected them. Not only that, they're doing it willingly—eagerly, even—with smiles on their faces. There's no hint of condemnation, no suggestion that they're doing this because they think he's weak. They just want to help him, in spite of his belief this is his battle to fight alone.

In chapter 138, Sakura says something very telling to himself: "If I lose now, then they—then I'll lose the place where they belong, the one place that they cherish and love. I don't want that. [...] I need to win and protect them. That's all that matters." He draws these lines so clearly between himself and his friends, placing himself on the outside looking in. Now, however, that moment comes full circle with the roles reversed, making the truth so clear that he can't deny it.

As his friends stride forward, Sakura suddenly realizes, in a way that he can't yet put to words, where he really is: He's not on the outside looking in at his friends in the place that they love. Instead, as they spread out before him to form a defensive line, he is standing firmly in that very place that they all want to protect. If they're defending him like this, then they're saying that he belongs in this place, too—and if that's the case, then he, too, is someone they cherish and love.

This realization cuts deep—even deeper than words, cutting into feelings that he's held for so long that he's never even thought to try to name them. It cuts deep enough to finally undermine and start to shake his most fundamental belief. He can no longer deny that his friends accept him and love him for more than just his ability to fight. Why else would they be lining up to fight for him like this?

More than that, he can no longer deny that what they see in him must somehow be real. Until now, he's always unconsciously dismissed his friends' most meaningful praise and kindness as simply wrong. Even if they thought they meant it, he just didn't see how it could be true. When Umemiya smiled at him and called him amazing (chapter 162), Sakura had felt like Umemiya was looking at a completely different person, like he'd made some mistake and confused him with somebody else. He could believe that Umemiya meant it, but not that it truly applied to him. In the same way, he viewed all their kindness and love with that deep distrust. But here, he can't bring himself to doubt all his friends at once. They're all too determined for this to be some kind of mistake or mass delusion.

In the end, Sakura's friends work together to stop his dad, thoroughly kick his ass, and send him packing. As usual for this series, that's enough to stop the threat for good.

Afterward, Sakura probably cries and undergoes a fundamental change in how he sees himself and his place in the world. It's not like all his past trauma is magically fixed or his low self-esteem instantly gets better overnight, but he's made a big step towards seeing worth in himself.

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not-goldy · 9 months ago

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Different anon from whomever sent you asks before. I don't care who ships whom but your ask was on my fyp and I wanted to say that from your response it's obvious what everyone's priorities are. In general shippers care more about their ship than either individual members. Case in point is calling letter a duet. Nobody outside of jikookers would ever say that even if they have absolutely no issue with jikook. Its not a joint song, JK is not even featuring. He's doing background vocals. And jikookers can talk about the significance of that as they wish but this persistence in calling letter a duet shows once again that ship >> actual members of your ship. Jimin wanted background vocals for his song so he called JK. Ok sweet enough. And if he wanted to do a duet with someone, he would do an actual duet with someone. Which again letter isn't.

Tbh I'm not sure why shippers get hung up on that anyway. Jimin and Tae had a subunit, JK featured in Hobis song, Namjoon wrote some lyrics in Face. Didn't mean anything for them but when it's your ship it's suddenly significant?

Well you guys can do what you want. It's just we already have one group of batshit insane shippers in this fandom. It would be nice if you guys didn't become the next version of that

With utmost respect don't you think you sound a bit patronizing and hypocritical👀

You don't know why shippers get hung on something you are equally hung on??? Like c'mon you walked right into that one😭😭😭😭😭

You're giving it's their not they're ��😹😹😹

Like chill it's really not that deep as u say 💀

I want you to trust that shippers know the difference between jikook songs such as Who are you, we don't talk anymore, and letter.

Words can be used loosely or generically or technically and duet is often used loosely in ship parlance to mean any performance involving jimin and Jungkook be it dance performances, or singing performances or harmonies, covers or when they do back up vocals.

So, in the future while you browse these fandoms or shipping streets- I don't know how I landed on your FYP I don't tag my posts to make it hard to find me. My user name doesn't mention jikook directly nor do my blog title just to ensure I'm buried further down in searches- try to bare that in mind.

It's giving Jk solos during the jimin back up vocals on Euphoria debate. One of these days yall solos will pop a vein from the high blood pressure you give yourselves over jikook and shippers.

I'm sure when you search up jikook duets letters come up. Even algorithms get it and they are machines🥲

If it pleases your ladyship can I refer to Jikook's cover of Homme as a duet too???

Cos it's such a great duet🥲

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deepperplexity · 1 year ago

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Prompt 21: Star Of Wishes [B8]

Pairing: Snape x Fem!OC

POV: First, OC

Setting: OC’s home -> Severus’s hidden place

Continuation of: Prompt 2. Restless Waiting, 3. Snowballing, 7. Stormy Reunion, 8. Rosemary For Holly, 16. Keep Warm, 19. Hope & 20. Returning Home

A/N: TODAY WE WRAP UP SEVERUS’ STORY! I’m super drained, tbh, but I so loved writing this part and giving everyone that HEA even if it doesn’t happen until the very end so to say 😂🙈 We do get some lovely smut though, hope you'll enjoy the emotional ride of the intimacy too 🤭 This might be the last long fic for the year. I have 0 time, I have no idea how I’m gonna be able to write the next 3 fics and get them up but I’ll manage somehow 😂 I still don’t know what prompt 23 and 24 will be this year, I do know that tomorrows prompt will be the one I use to wrap up Turpin’s story — how, I have no idea yet. We’ll see 😂👍

+A/N: This part of the serial contains a relationship dynamic in the beginning that can be extremely toxic and dangerous when real, but this is FICTION, and as the author I have created this relationship with the intention of it being trauma-healing, safe, loving, and no harm have or will come to any of the characters due to the relationship or any acts of either of the characters. If you feel this relationship matches yours, PLEASE take a step back and really evaluate if you are in a dangerous relationship - if your partner is treating you in a manner that isn’t loving or safe.

Tags/TW’s: Kisses, embracing, Harsh and Soft Touching, Apologising For Ones Behaviour, Slight Snark, Trying Ones Best, Stunted Emotional Development, Confessions of Regret/Hurt/Anger/Fear/Pain/Lacking Knowledge/Love/Affection/Trust, Explicit Description, Dark Sexual Past, Gentle and Caring Touches, Hints At Past Sexual Abuse/Coercion/Rape (not graphic or described),

Word Count: 4.7k

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

It had been over seven months since the day I thought my heart would stop. The day I found him more dead than alive in the Shrieking Shack. The day a strange little elf was sent to me with a message from someone a mere boy, which led me to find the man I loved so broken — poisoned, snake venom slithering through his veins no magic could have stopped. But my mom, she stopped it. My mom, a muggle who the Dark Lord so much detested, had won over his own snake.

The year had passed in a blurry ordeal of pain, love, recovery, and healing. But still, there was so much healing needed I could barely wrap my head around it. Christmas was upon us, and I hadn’t the heart to decorate our home. The home we ended up sharing, just me and Severus. At first, it was to get away from everyone and give him a chance to heal, but it changed about a month ago. A month ago, it became something different, an emotional journey for the two of us one could say. Spewed words of hatred, panic attacks through dark nights, long stretches of time without a word spoken from him, my dear broken man.

I didn’t give up, yet yesterday, when he’d so viciously barked at me about the time I’d decorated his office and how stupid I’d been to do such a thing — well, something broke in me. I hadn’t decorated our home, I hadn’t put up anything related to Christmas despite it being the 21st of December now and my most loved holiday. I’d simply allowed our home to remain barren, for his sake, as he seemed to hate the holiday with a vengeance unlike any I’d ever seen.

“I’ll take a walk,” I called through the little house, not expecting any response. The cold winter air greeted me but there was no wind, not a sound from beyond the bubble the little house sat in at the very end of a clearing in some ancient forest I still had no idea of the location of. I could only apparate there since I knew what it looked like.

My heart ached for the man left behind in the house while stepping into the night. No matter what, I wouldn’t give up on him. He had every right to be broken, hurt, lost — but sometimes I had to take some time for myself to find the strength and courage I needed to go on when his hatred and pain shined too brightly. Sometimes, I was the only one around he could lash out against and even if it hurt beyond anything else to hear such foul words in his voice directed at me, I still loved him more than anything and the nights when I held him tight I just knew it would pass. Eventually, time would heal his wounds and I’d still be there. I would never abandon him, something I knew he feared above all else yet he always showed I was free to come and go as I pleased. He knew what it was to be trapped, he didn't wish that for me in any sense of the word.

The snow crunched beneath my shoes, I slipped on my mittens and shoved my hands into my coat’s pockets while walking ahead. Above me, just before I left the clearing and the trees would obscure the sky, I saw the little stars speckling the darkness. I paused for a second to just look at the enormity of the universe, to get perspective perhaps, or simply allow myself to think of how small things can mean so much in the enormity of it all. A falling star streaked by, and I couldn’t help but close my eyes and send a wish to it. It was a childish thing to do perhaps, but I wished for Severus to allow me to help him and be close with him. Some day it might come true, he’s trying already…

I walked around for nearly two hours, until my toes were numb and my cheeks beyond chilly. Just breathing, imagining a happy Christmas with him. “In the future, when he’s healed… Maybe then…” I murmured to myself as I stomped off my boots and stepped back into our little home.

I lost my breath.

When I left, the house had been dark, dreary, void of all things Christmas but now… Now there were decorations everywhere. Eternally burning candles, perfectly green garlands, golden ornaments, and red bows littered every surface, door frame, and window. The house had turned into a Christmas-littered haven perfectly decorated to my own taste, almost as I had decorated Severus’s office a year ago — just slightly different colours.

“What in the world,” I whispered as I dragged off my fluffy mittens and shrugged out of my coat. “S-Severus! I don’t mean to alarm you but I think Santa broke in!” I called, my brain not able to think of another reason why our house looked like Christmas heaven. “No, love,” he murmured as he appeared in the doorway to the living room beyond the hallway I was moving through. “I am apologizing,” he continued and the sweet look of guilt and hope covering his features made my heart ache.

“Severus, what-, why?” I asked as he straightened and reached for my hand to tug me into his arms. I followed without any resistance. I always wanted to be in his arms, one of the many things I always wished for while I nursed him back to health physically after my mom had saved his life. “I said dreadful things.” “You’re trying, Sev.” “No, you are trying, Linna—” he exhaled the words into my hair “—and I’m constantly making it harder for you.” “Healing takes time, Sev. It takes time.” “It gives me no right to take it out on you, you have done nothing but stand by me.” “I always will, I won’t abandon you.” “I almost wish you would, it would be easier to be in misery than… deal with it all.” “Oh, stop, you’re a strong man, you can deal with it.” “Love, you overestimate my abilities, and underestimate your importance…”

For a long moment, I said nothing, just thought about his words — the sweet ones he now spoke and the hurtful ones that came out when we tried to process his trauma. It wasn’t easy to stay, wasn’t easy to take it and not retort or yell or scream or cry. But the hardest thing I had ever done was stay away from him, nothing else came close to it.

“Will you forgive me?” he asked, his voice low and nearly that of someone frightened. “I-, Severus… you don’t need my—” “Your forgiveness is the only one I need.” “I won’t forgive you then,” I said softly. “I won’t forgive you until you fight harder.” “Love, I—” “No, you’re the strongest man I’ve ever met. I’m nothing compared to you and I have nothing to equal your pain and hurt, your strength, or your bravery, so if I only have this one thing to hold over your head I bloody well will, Sev.” “Feisty today, are we?”

His voice was teasing, yet the hurt and fear still lingered behind it all and I couldn’t help but feel even more love for the man who dealt so poorly with his own emotions — he’d never been allowed any, so how would he ever know how to deal with them properly? I did the only thing I could think of, I hugged him with all my strength until his arms wrapped around me and I felt some of the tension leave his body. “Silly man,” I whispered. “You really need to learn how to deal with your emotions.” “I’m… I am trying,” he confessed and I knew he spoke true. He was trying with everything he had and I’d be with him every step of the way.

We stood there, for the longest moment, until I felt the urge to explore all the Christmas decorations he’d filled the house with. “I thought you hated Christmas with a passion as strong as amortentia’s power to make people go insane with obsession.” “I do.” “Then, why?” “You are the obsessed in this case,” he chuckled. “So, for me, then?” He merely nodded but I smiled warmly at him. It was a giant act of care and love on his part, it only made me love the holiday even more.

We walked through the little house, I looked at everything he’d done in a sort of stunned silence until we got to the bedroom. “Really?” I asked and arched a brow at him, he shrugged while raising his own brows in a sort of “what?” kind of expression. “Rosemary?” “Well…” he murmured as his cheeks took on the tiniest hint of pink, barely there but significant enough for me to notice after having gotten to know him so well the past few months. “I love it,” I said and kissed his cheek gently. “It’s perfect,” I continued while allowing my eyes to rest another moment on the rosemary twigs replacing the holly — just like it had done a year ago.

“Love, I truly am sorry… I shouldn’t have said the things I did, or done it in the manner I did.” “I know, and you know, and it’s in the past.” “It is not in the past,” he said and sighed. “I fear I’ll never be able to… To…” “Sev, schh, it’s okay. You’re learning. Have you ever had a right to express yourself? Or even have feelings at all?” “No.” “So you’re a baby.” He sneered at that, almost recoiling. “If you think about it logically, you’re as able as a child to deal with your emotions and when children feel truly safe with someone they’ll act up, they’ll cry and scream and get pissed because they feel it’s safe to show their emotions and, eventually, with the help of safe adults they learn to communicate and deal with their emotions in a healthy and proper manner. Yes, you’re a grown man, but you’ve never had the chance to learn or become comfortable with your emotions.” “I’m comfortable with you.” “And I am with you, we can both show our emotions, and right now your emotions aren’t under control but that’s not your fault. You’ll learn, grow, and become able to handle it eventually.”

Severus simply stared at me. It felt like an eternity passed while his eyes seemed to dig themselves into mine. Eventually, he drew a long breath. “You are far too good.” “I’ll be anything you need me to be.” “I merely need you, just as you are. If you… if you are willing to be patient, with… me…” It sounded as if he had to push with all his might to say the word in a calm and collected manner, as if he felt a need to either spit them out or say nothing at all. It warmed my heart and I nodded gently, smiling up at him as I took his hands gently in my own. “I’ll always be patient with you,” I said and leaned up to kiss him. His thin lips pushed harshly against mine while he tugged me closer.

He backed me up, toward our bed, and gently laid me down without our lips ever leaving each other. “Severus?” I asked, my heart hammering too hard while my entire body tightened warmly under him. “If you don’t want this, say so now, love.” “I-, I do…” It feels like I’ve waited all my life for this moment. “But are you ready?” I asked in return, remembering all the times he’d recoiled at my soft touch or jolted at a sweet caress of his cheek. Loving touches, as I’d learned over the past months, wasn’t something he was used to or even knew how to deal with.

“I want to try,” he confessed after another kiss. “Okay,” I whispered and he kissed me again while his hands roughly caressed my sides. His kisses turned harsher and he bent my legs to fit himself between them. I simply moved with him, allowed him to lead the way while I avoided touching him, keeping my hands above my head even if all I wished to do was strip him and ravish him with all my love and adoration, thousands of kisses and hundreds of soft caresses — with all my warmth.

His hands travelled up my arms until one of them clamped around my wrists before the other tore open my blouse with a jerk. His breathing turned ragged, his hand clamped around my wrists harder while he undid my pants with his free hand — tugging at the buttons too harshly.

“S-Sev,” I whispered against his lips. All his motions halted. He looked down at me, his eyes darker than ever. “I won’t run away,” I whispered. “Even if you don’t hold me down, I won’t touch you unless you allow it,” I continued. “I-, I don’t know how to… How to do this…” His voice was a mere murmur, a deep droning of a confession barely audible. “I know. I understand. But I do… Let me show you?” I asked gently while holding his eyes with my own.

He hesitated, a fear of what was to come in those onyx eyes of his, while I laid utterly still despite the need to love him clawing at my skin with a burning desire. He nodded, a stiff motion, while he slowly released my hands.

I sat up and he backed off the bed, standing between my knees. I looked up at him, not making any quick moves but standing up while he took a step back and his fists clenched. “Will you let me lead?” I asked. He merely nodded. “No, Severus. I need you to say the words.” He looked bewildered for a second before his fists unclenched on a deep exhale. “You lead.” “Thank you.”

I gently reached out while he stood absolutely still. “I’m going to undress you. And then you will undress me, slowly.” He nodded at my words and I got to work with the buttons of his shirt, not letting my fingers tremble while he watched them work. I tugged the shirt off his shoulders without touching his skin, dragging the fabric down his arms while searching his eyes before it floated to the floor. I undid the belt of his pants, then the button and zipper before bending to tug them off as he wore no shoes.

He lifted each leg for me to remove the pants fully while simultaneously slipping my finger within the hem of his socks and taking them off at the same time. I heard him draw a shaky breath as I rose before him as he stood in just his boxers. He was such a beautiful sight in the candlelight and I couldn’t help but look him up and down while my cheeks heated, no matter how hard I tried to control my own emotions for his benefit.

“Now, you undress me in the same manner. But, you can touch me if you want to.” He nodded at my words and as he reached for my already open blouse I caught a glimpse of his unsteady fingers that seemed to be both stiff and trembling. But he managed to undress me in a somewhat slow fashion, even if he didn’t look at me while he did so. His eyes flickered all over the place as if he didn’t know where to look.

When he stood up we were only in our underwear. I was strangely relaxed while he seemed tense. So I stepped closer, my eyes seeking his, and allowed my hands to reach out. “I’ll touch you now,” I said and his eyes found mine. He looked terrified, but he didn’t move away as my hands reached his chest dusted with dark hair so soft to the touch I wanted to moan at just the sensation of him. “Touch me, Severus, feel my body. It belongs to you,” I said gently to encourage him to dare. “I-, I have never in-, in this manner,” he confessed. “Tell me how you’ve done it, share your experiences with me while we do this gently.” “Love… No,” he said, a darkness to his voice. “Tell me, and touch me.”

I allowed my hands to stroke down his arms, slip to his hips, and go up along his sides until I could spread my fingers over his chest — his heart pounded. Then his hands reached out for my hips. “It was rough,” he began while his uncertain fingers began exploring my body in a jaggedly jumpy fashion. “Never out of care or, want… A necessity, sometimes something done without my approval. Merely for the… mission …” “Never again, darling,” I whispered while my hands explored his back and my front went flush against his, forcing his hands to slip behind me as well.

I kissed his collarbone and allowed my lips to slant up along his throat until I met his jawline. “This will only ever happen if you want it,” I assured him and his fingers stiffened at my lower back while I felt his cock press against my pelvis. “I can’t talk about it,” he confessed. “Not like this,” he continued and I nodded before kissing his cheek. “That’s okay, Sev. Will you still allow me to lead and touch?” “Yes…” “Say stop and it all stops.”

I stepped back and took off my underwear before ridding him of his. As we stood face to face I searched his eyes, tried to read what few emotions he showed, I found none truly alarming so I continued to kiss and caress him before we ended up on the bed. He was stiff beneath me, but I kept kissing and caressing his upper body while snuggling myself between his legs.

“Love…” he murmured. “Yes, Sev?” “Are you-, do you truly wish for this?” “Yes. I want all of you, all you are willing to gift me.” “All?” “Yes, all . There is no part of you I don’t love. I want to be close to you, care for you, love you.” He seemed to soften beneath me at that. “I will try,” he said quietly while his hands finally began to caress my skin, travelling along my sides until his fingers reached my face and he pulled me closer before kissing me softly.

I moaned into his mouth and kissed him back with all I had while still keeping the pace slow and the touch gentle. His thumb caressed my cheek and the kiss ended. I began stroking his side, travelling from his ribs to his hips before lifting myself a bit to reach his cock. He exhaled deeply as my fingers wrapped around him and I began stroking him gently, each movement measured and controlled to be gentle and comforting.

“It-, it feels good,” he whispered as he laid back fully, relaxing and taking in my touch. “I’ll always make you feel good, Sev,” I said, my voice too low but I was desperate to keep my control when all I truly wished to do was ravish him and have him fill my aching cunt. But we both needed this, he needed this to be different and I wanted him to feel safe and adored with me — as he always should feel.

I worked him to the point of him moaning deeply beneath me, my hands touching and stroking, my lips slanting and kissing, my mouth whispering sweet words of adoration and care. The room turned too warm, his breaths came harder and his muscles tensed beneath me while my core turned slick and needy.

“Sev, I’m going to ride you,” I said, making sure he knew what was about to happen before I did anything, giving him the chance to stop me. But he didn’t, he merely looked at me with warm eyes of want even if a small sliver of worry still lingered within the onyx colour.

I climbed atop him, guiding his thick cock to my entrance while straddling him. He looked up at me, his hands landing on my thighs as I began to sink, allowing him to slip inside and fill me up deliciously slow. He groaned and threw his head back as I took him to the hilt. It felt too good. He felt too perfect within me.

His hands flexed, his fingers digging into my flesh, and I moaned his name while taking in the sensation of being with him. I had dreamt of that moment for so long, wondered what it would be like, what he’d feel like, how he’d react — never had I imagined I’d be the one leading. But with Severus, things were always different.

“Love,” he groaned as I began riding him slowly. “You feel so good, Sev,” I moaned as my cunt adjusted to his size. “Belinna,” he moaned. “I-, I can’t,” he continued with a strain to his dark rumble of a voice. “Want me to stop?” I asked while keeping on riding him in slow motions, steady rising and falling, using all of my power to not allow the frenzy building within me to take over. “No, no don’t stop,” he groaned as his fingers dug themselves into my flesh with a grip so tight I wondered if he’d leave marks on me from his desperate hold. “But I can’t, I can’t hold out,” he panted while I felt his entire body turn nearly solid beneath me.

I’d only barely begun, but I wouldn’t take away his pleasure or deny him a release he so obviously needed. “Then let go, darling,” I said while I upped the pace a tiny bit. “Just let go.” “ Belinna ,” he moaned in a near prayer as I splayed my hands out on his chest, leaning forward to find a new angle to take him. He jerked beneath me, his jaw clenched tightly while his hips bucked upwards, and I moaned as he came undone beneath me.

His cock jerked with me, warm waves coating my insides while I kept riding him steadily while my hands felt the hammering of his heart. “You’re so good, Sev,” I praised while he groaned deeply. “So good, darling,” I continued and he moaned a strange sound of relief and something darker. I slowed my pace until I stilled fully, not chasing my release.

I watched him, the pale skin with a slight tint to his cheeks and little beads of sweat across his forehead, and couldn’t help but be filled with a desperate need to comfort him. He looked strangely satisfied but confused, tense but relaxed at the same time.

“Sev, are you alright?” I asked while stroking away a few stray strands of his hair. He looked up at me, I was unable to understand what his eyes were filled with though. He just looked at me, his chest still rising and falling rapidly, while I felt him soften within me his hands released their grip on my flesh.

“I-, I don’t know,” he confessed. “That’s okay,” I said and leaned forward to kiss his hooked nose while he slipped out of me, a gushing of sticky cum flowing out of me. “We’re a mess, would you like to shower with me?” I asked with a smile even if my entire body was reeling with the need to come. He shook his head and I nodded before kissing his thin lips gently. “I’ll be right back, I don’t like cleaning up with magic.”

I handed him his wand after having stood and went to the bathroom on shaky legs. My insides pulsed and his cum streaked down my thighs. I locked the door and stepped into the shower, the warm water cascaded over me and I reached down to find the release I so desperately needed while his moans and groans filled my head from mere memory. His cum and my slick covered my fingers as I stroked myself into a trembling mess, taking support from the wall while biting down on my lip to not make a sound. I made quick work of it all, finding my release swiftly only to rush through cleaning myself.

I grabbed my robe from the hook on the wall and left the bathroom while cinching the sash around my waist. When I stepped into the bedroom Severus sat on the edge of the bed, dressed in a new shirt and his black silken pyjama pants. He was leaning his elbows on his knees, a hunch to his shoulders and a stiffness to his back.

I walked up, sinking down on my knees before him. “Sev? Are you alright?” I asked anew but he shook his head. “What’s wrong?” I continued while wrapping my hands around his where they were entwined before me. “Is that how it’s supposed to be?” he asked quietly. “What do you mean?” “Soft, caring… Warm …” My eyes widened as he looked up at me. “Sev… Darling… Yes, it’s supposed to be all those things. It’s supposed to feel only good.” My heart screamed at the torment and confusion in his eyes while he looked at me so intently that I felt as if he were trying to enter my soul.

“What do you need, darling?” I asked while squeezing his hands. “Need?” “Yes, what do you need from me?” “Nothing you haven’t already given too much of.” “Okay, what would make you feel safe and cared for right now?” I asked to change his view on the question I was asking. “I-, I don’t know.” “Cuddles?” I asked. “Or alone time? Food? Words of affirmation?” I kept going to try and jog his thoughts about it all. I knew what I wanted but what I needed was to comfort him in whatever manner he needed.

“I usually prefer some cuddles and snuggles after getting clean, and talking about what felt good and what didn’t,” I said to open up about my own wants to hopefully make him see it was okay to ask for something more, for what one needs. “There was nothing about that which did not feel good, love,” Severus murmured, his eyes cast down on our hands. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Would you like me to stay or give you some time?” I asked after another moment. “Don’t leave,” he whispered. “Stay. Please…” The confusion and worry in his voice was heartbreaking but that he asked me to stay warmed me. “I’ll stay, for as long as you wish.” “Forever. I wish you to stay forever,” he said and I felt my eyes water at his honesty. “I love you, Severus.” “I love you too. And I am trying, I am truly trying, Belinna.” “I know,” I said and reached my hand up to caress his chilly cheek.

He leaned into my hand, a small smile across his lips. Such a difference to just a few weeks ago. “It may sound foolish,” he began quietly, “but I… I wished on a falling star for the bravery needed to be closer to you. It fell across the sky just as you left for your walk.” “I-, Sev, I wished on that star too,” I confessed and he blinked at me. “I wished for you to allow me to be close to you…” “Is that so?” “Yes…” “Star of wishes, perhaps we needn’t wish on stars in the future…” “Perhaps we can simply… talk with each other more?”

Severus reached up and cupped my face, smiling softly while I placed my hands on his chest. His heart beat steadily beneath my palms and warmth seemed to envelop the two of us among the garlands and candlelight. “I wish for nothing more than a future where we can speak openly,” he said gently and I felt as if I were melting on the inside. “Let’s make that future a reality, together.” “Together,” he echoed and kissed me deeply. My wish came true, and my hard work and patience were rewarded in the end. My own little Christmas miracle…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: WAAAAAAAH!!!! Gosh, frikkin darn it, I love this so much and it's so sweet and they are so loving and caring and waaaaah..! I hope you enjoyed the end to this Rickmas2023 serial as well darlings! 🥰👏

+A/N: I am so so so sorry I haven't had the chance to reply to comments/reblogs yet - I am itching to do it and I will get to it as soon as I have a chance to and life isn't going crazy (I love and adore that you comment and reblog darling! I really do!) ❤

Q: Do you feel ready for 2024? A: I am so so so ready for 2023 to be over, it's been the most insane year and I can't quite wrap my head around it now that we're on the home stretch - how did I manage all I managed this year?

TAGLIST: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @sunnylikesfrogs @mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @sassanoe @snapesrn @bernadette-peters12 @sammy-13 @smartowl999 @castleofthorns @serenanight87 @leah1243

@morphineisouthoney @meteoritewolf69 @bionic-otp @elizabeth-baelish @romanceandsarcasm @severuslovebot @glowstar826 @rickmandowneyjr @yellowbadgermole @snapesangel @a-queen-and-her-throne @impulse-anchor @commodoreseverus @writewithmarites @alisongurl13 @yan-senna @writewithmarites @reinekefoxart @nixislight @lokisbjchnl @lght-n-drk @ladykardasi @lyrixsnape @sunset90 @mamawolfsmith87 @snowblossomreads @ladykardasi @a-queen-and-her-throne @eternal-silvertongued-prince @lyrixsnape @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @daddythanatos

Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Dec:2023]

#rickmas2023 #rickmas #alan rickman #rickmaniac #pro snape #severus snape #snape x oc #snape fic #snape lives au #chrsitmas fic #event fic

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astridthevalkyrie · 2 years ago

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A Scene Popped Into My Head But Instead Of Writing A Whole AU I’m Just Going To Write That One Scene <3

—> Scene Capture Fics Masterlist

—> Today’s Feature: Ice Hockey Coach Levi!

—> a/n: a scene capture fic????? in 2023????????? yes, i'm actually alive :) tbh by reading this you can tell how rusty i am because this is trash

Levi doesn't think he's ever had this big of a headache. And there's been some real contenders over the course of his life. One would think all the death or that one bit where he was sleeping on the streets would take the cake. But no, it's this idiot—this mousy, annoying fucking idiot who really makes migraines a constant in his life.

For the sixth time in an hour, Levi blows his whistle.

"Jock! Get the fuck out of the rink!"

The player in question slams down the stick he's holding in his left hand, shoving the teammate he just elbowed out of the way before skating towards him. That migraine seems to pulse in anger the same way the player's veins do.

"You can't bench me again," he seethes, fists clenched and eyes flaming behind his helmet. "I'm your best player."

"You're also the biggest pain in the ass." Levi grabs the front of his shirt. "Any points you score won't mean shit if you get double the penalties."

Never has he met a player so skilled, and yet so troublesome. When Levi agreed to coach the team as a favor to Erwin, who owned them and was taking loss after loss, he hadn't expected this hothead. From the first moment the man introduced himself, wide-eyed, spitting out the word, "Cock!" when Levi demanded his name, he'd been nothing but a dick indeed.

"What was that?" he'd hissed, eyes narrowing.

"Jock! I meant Jock!"

"Tch. And you clearly find that fitting, do you?"

"Oh yes, sir, I'm the best player you'll meet."

And to Jock's credit, he hadn't been wrong. He was the best player Levi had seen since, well, probably Erwin and himself. The word miss wasn't even in the man's dictionary, and he skated on the ice like he'd been born to do so. The problem was that Levi was the coach of a team, and Jock was anything but a team player.

From the beginning, he was aggressive. Constantly shoving teammates both smaller and bigger than him around, constantly shouting, constantly throwing tempter tantrums. Levi knew a thing or two about a short fuse, but this guy made him look like a fucking saint.

"Far as I see it, Coach, you're the only one who penalizes me." That gaze hadn't stopped glaring once. "Whatchu gonna do when other teams and kick these weaklings' asses? I'm the only one who—"

"Did I stutter?" Holding one hand out, Levi takes your stick from one of the other players (a common occurrence, for them to pick it up) and shoves it in your hands. "Get the fuck out and sit out for the rest of practice, or I'll kick this weakling's ass right now."

Even people who have played against him haven't given him the look that Jock's giving him now. A hateful gaze complete with bared teeth, like he's about to pounce.

"Fuck you, coach."

The worst thing, Levi thinks as he finally stalks off, mutter obscenities under his breath, is that unlike other players who get angry, this is the only who looks undeniably attractive while doing so.

And speaking of undeniably attractive.

Nighttime is the only time his migraine seems to die out, and sure, part of it is because he's not coaching anymore. Another part is that he can simply skate, without hearing shouts and without having to be aggressive. And the final part, is the company.

The first night he'd visited this rink, he'd found he wasn't alone.

"Sorry!" the stranger had whisper-shouted. "There's never anyone here usually, since the rink is closed."

"It's alright. You can skate, I know the rink is booked up with the trainings all the time."

"Yeah. But..." Her words seem to catch even her by surprise. "Well, it's a large area. We can share."

"You're here earlier than normal," she teases, already on the ice as usual. "Miss me, Levi?"

He snorts, already entering the rink with two sticks and a puck. "Better you than the idiots I deal with all day."

The woman's eyes are some of the nicest things he's seen, especially when she smiles. When she spins, one foot in the air, she doesn't know he's watching, and yet she seems to make a point to be completely entrancing.

He's never seen anyone skate like her. If his skills are a ten, then hers are a hundred.

"Here." He offers her a stick. "You said you played, right?"

"Um..." For some reason, she looks nervous. "I used to, back in high school."

(In high school, Levi was skating too, but the only time he played hockey was when someone, usually Erwin or Petra, managed to convince him to drop the attitude and play a match.)

"Play with me," he requests, "there's gear in my bag if you want it—"

"No," her response comes quickly, "um, no, I don't need gear, that's okay." Giving the stick a practice swing, she grins up at him. "But why are we playing today? You want some practice?"

"I honestly just need to remember why I like the sport." Levi groans, rubbing the back of his neck to soothe out a crick. Then he slides the puck into the center, not bothering to make sure it's a perfect fit. "The big match is in two days, and there's only so much I can fucking take training these assholes."

Levi notes immediately that she favors her left side. "Anyone in particular giving you problems?"

"The usual. Eren, Jean. Connie. And this one dick. Gets angry at everything that moves."

He moves first, but she still hits the puck before him, in a speed that few have demonstrated to him before. He can only blink as she moves past his shoulder. "Sounds like a handful. But maybe he's just got stuff going on?"

"What would he have going on?"

"Everyone has stuff going—hey!" she cries, when he steals the puck from her, swerving around and skating towards the other side. In a flash, she's going around the other side.

"Not an excuse to be an asshole, is it?"

"Well—no. But is he a good player?" Instead of coming up to him, she skates up to the net, right as he takes aim and swings.

Her stick outstretches before she moves, blocking the puck with a resounding smack and sending it sliding to the right.

This isn't a real match, so Levi takes the time to pause, raising a brow at her.

"One of the best I've seen."

"Then," and she takes her time too, offering him a sweet smile as she propels forward, stopping in front of him, "maybe you should cut him some slack."

A part of him wishes he could say the last time he felt his chest squeeze like that was a long time ago, to really make this moment special. But it was only a few hours ago, when the same man he's complaining about now had looked at him with hate, the exact opposite of the softness in your gaze.

"M'starting to think the guy's your boyfriend, the way you're batting for him."

She laughs, skating back as he follows her. "No. I don't have a boyfriend."

This is the first time a topic like this has come up. His heart twists happily. "Would you even date a hockey player?"

"Mm, I don't know. A lot of them are assholes."

She's not wrong. If Jock wasn't enough of an example, Levi definitely is.

"Something tells me you'd put them in their place."

Her hand is on the railing as she peers at him, coy features twisting into a smirk. "Flattery won't let you steal that puck."

Then she's speeding, like a bullet, straight for his net. Levi mimics her move from before, coming to stand in front of the net as she halts. Her eyes move down to his feet, than up to his eyes. Strangely enough, that order of observation is exactly how he teaches people to play.

Her fingers move, and she aims left. Before she can shoot, he's already moving to block her.

Victory shines on her face she she hits the puck to the right.

For a moment, Levi can't even wrap his mind around it. No one, no teammate or opponent or underling, has ever gotten past him like that.

"Jesus Christ," he finds himself muttering under his breath, "maybe you should be on the team."

Again she's grinning, spinning up to him to hook her fingers into the pockets of his suit jacket. "Trust me, you wouldn't want me."

One second, Levi's staring at her, mesmerized.

The next, his lips are on her's, as if to show her just how much he really does want her.

The tension in his stomach snaps, doing the only think he's wanted to do for months, aside from kicking Jock off the team. A flare of annoyance sets off an alarm in his head—he shouldn't be thinking of Jock at a time like this.

The kiss is brief, though, because she immediately pulls away, sliding back with a guilty expression.

Now that's not the look he'd want someone to have after he just kissed them.

"I...the game is in two days," he stupidly reiterates, "I was hoping you'd come watch."

Her tongue darts out to wet her lips nervously. "Levi, I—I can't. I'm sorry." Letting the stick drop, she skates back, putting more distance between them. The rink feels colder than usual. "I really like you, but I...I can't."

There's nothing more he can say as she steps out, hurried and clumsy. All he can do is watch from afar, cussing himself out in his head. The one person he'd felt at ease with all these months, and he had to go and screw things up.

Before she leaves, in a moment of hesitation, she turns back to face him. "Good luck with the game, Levi. Wish Eren and Jean and Jock all my best."

And then she's gone.

The rink and stadium are now completely empty, with only the empty seats and his own gear strewn around to mock him with how lonely they look.

But instead of focusing on that, Levi only has one question.

When had he told her Jock's name?

#stupidest shit i've ever written #but whatever i hope you enjoy LMAO #aot #aot x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #ice hockey coach levi #scene capture fics #valkyrie stories

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ooglywooglies · 2 months ago

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sorry im posting a lot about race stuff today i wasnt expecting it to be a topic on my dash but i actually have been thinking about it a bit recently in terms of like, my own experiences with racism. but im kinda weird right, like i usually say that my experiences with racism are pretty like medium/mild because im asian, right asians are like the furthest up on the barrier between white and not white. east asians are just BARELY not white (especially if youre not diaspora, i will find a way to turn this into hating japan [the country not the people] as an asian)

but im in a weird spot because i live in australia, there are a LOT of asians here, because asia is literally right there, im like an 8 hour flight from vietnam which is crazy as someone who grew up disconnected from my culture on the other side of the planet (im pretty sure my grandma got send to one of those assimilation schools when she got shipped to the midwest when she fled to the US after the vietnam war but she doesnt talk about that stuff so idk)

and ive talked about some experiences with racism ive had to other asians here and theyve been like WHAT THE HELL?? because theyve hardly interacted with white people for most of their lives despite growing up in australia which is a white (british) settler colony obviously

ive dealt with a LOT of racism growing up, because i grew up in rural minnesota and wyoming and im mixed race and the white side of my family is a lot bigger and more connected than the asian side (my parents broke up like around when i was born, and my dads pretty non confrontational and avoidant so i never spent a lot of time with him growing up even though thats not what he wanted) so not only am i really really used to being the only POC in like a 10 mile radius im also used to being the only POC in my own family (a lot of racist comments ive gotten have been from my own mother, sister, grandmother, aunts, etc. bc their proximity to me makes them think its okay to treat me that way, they know me so they know i dont have the power to fight back)

and its not like i havent experienced racism in australia, ive experienced plenty and ive only been here for a handful of years, its usually in the same vein as the racism i got from the rural redneck types that im used to except maybe a little bit more tactful

like sometimes i get assumed to be japanese, or that im like a mail order bride, but its not usually "is your vagina sideways" the only time they converge is when people make comments about my people being poor/dirty/primitive, implying that we are basically monkeys or cavemen or that type of thing. yeah turns out if youre not from one of the BROWN asian countries instead of one of the cool/rich ones thats how it goes

im light skinned but ive had weird comments made about me whenever i get a tan, people tell me i look like im from a 3rd world country when i get a shade darker in the summer

ive probably talked about that a bunch on here, i kind of catch myself falling into a loop about it bc i dont really have anyone to talk TO about it, all my confidants are white and they just go "ew that sucks" which, i mean i get that thats all they really have but its not very comforting either yknow

anyway the point is im getting distracted by the dumb bullshit ive experienced bc the point was that i feel like lately ive been trying to quantify my experiences with racism to figure out "how bad it is" bc like, even with everything ive just said at least its not violence, and i dont think anyone has even ever said anything to me maliciously its always just been ignorance, and im like, LIKE I SAID IM NOT EVEN FULLY ASIAN tbh if you go by blood/dna/whatever im not even HALF asian im at least 75% white, mostly norwegian (and i like to acknowledge my norwegian heritage too, it informs a lot of that "minnesota culture" i grew up around) i just usually dont pass as white (usually if i do its bc im hanging around white people who are used to what asian people are SUPPOSED to look like, which is evidently not me, but im not sure if i actually pass as white in those settings or just "not asian" people tend to mistake me for latino a lot [so mestizo probably])

i do suspect that my poc-ness has affected my ability to get a job, more often when i was living in rural areas people tended to give me the stink eye a lot when they saw me, and theyd act kind of grossed out when i applied for jobs, i have a white name so people seem to have an assumption shattered when they meet me after seeing my name, its hard to confirm if thats real or not though. all my jobs ive ever gotten have been through nepotism :thumbsup: (theyve been really shitty horribly paying jobs though)

why am i thinking about all this am i getting distracted again, ig bc ive been thinking about the thing i said at the beginning where anti-asian racism is really mild compared to other forms of racism bc (east) asians are the closest to whiteness

i guess its still a pretty fucking wide gap though, like even pretty and privileged asians still have to deal with a bunch of the stuff that i have and i AM a pretty privileged asian person despite not being japanese or something since im on paper barely asian at all

im just thinking about the fact that its like, i go through all this and im on paper barely a poc, like imagine how much worse it must be for 1) full blooded asians 2) any brown person who isnt (east) asian 3) black and native people

im not gonna get too far into how much worse other people have it, mostly bc they can speak for themselves and this is just a personal post, ive had plenty of time to consider my place of privilege concerning people who experience racism harder than me but this post is supposed to be about people who have it better than me mainly i think

i didnt even talk about actual white passing asians, like i have a sister who is fully white passing but is just as asian as me and i didnt talk about it at all, i think mostly bc i cant really imagine what its like to have her perspective, it must be complex as well, but i have to imagine its different. and how weird it is to be so different just for having a couple of features present differently, for us to look on opposite ends of the spectrum and have a really similar genetic makeup (we are only half siblings but we have a dad in common and both of us have a white mom from the same region)

#asian posting #this is personal bs again dw about it

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looooooooomis · 4 years ago

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F I N A L G I R L | T H R E E

You were his final girl. And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t t h r e e | j e a l o u s y

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 4.3k warnings: angst tbh. and not the healthiest relationship but ya know what it’s billy so we persevere, unwanted advances, more angst x

I had a request for a jealous billy, so I hope you like my take on it x

That was the third time in the last thirty minutes that Steve Shit-For-Brains Orth touched you. Three fucking times. The first two times he was willing to look past but the third? Fuck no. The asshole, who was sitting with his clunky arm on the back of your chair, had not-so-casually rubbed his thumb along your spine, inciting a rather surprised look from you and a rather murderous one from Billy.

Of course, Steve couldn’t see the rage practically oozing from Billy, but boy was it there. Especially when you went out of your way to lean further into your desk as though to avoid his grabby little hands.

But that didn’t stop Steve.

Billy could see the frustration on your face as you fought to keep your cool in front of your classmates as his hand dipped beneath the desk to give your thigh a firm squeeze.

The same thighs that Billy’s face had been buried in just this morning.

All Billy saw was red as you pushed Steve’s hand away, muttering something to him under your breath before raising your hand to excuse yourself. With an anger so palpable radiating from his every pore, Billy watched you leave the classroom and thought of the various ways he could kill that fucker before you returned.

“Billy,” the girl, Sam, he’d been paired up with groused, “are you even paying attention?”

“No,” he simply said, barely hearing her above the sound of his own blood coursing to his ears. “Sorry.”

He wasn’t sorry, of course, only irate. The vein in his neck pulsed against his skin as his blood pressure skyrocketed. This was the type of thing that drove him to the brink of insanity when it came to having to keep the two of you a secret for the sake of his plan. It was bad enough that he couldn’t parade you around like he wanted to, even worse that he knew, deep down, that your little arrangement hurt you beyond belief – but this? Watching you get pawed by these dickheads all the while he was forced to take a backseat?

He couldn’t stomach it.

His knuckles were white from the grip he had on his pencil but even as he felt it splinter off into his palm, his grip never waned. Not for a second. It was either that or kill Steve Orth and, while that sounded great, he couldn’t. Not yet, at least.

Just as the pressure of the pencil in his hand got to be too much, you waltzed back into the room with your head held high, seemingly unfazed by the naked eye – but Billy saw right through it. He knew you, more than either of you would like to admit, and he could see the irritation as clear as day in those gorgeous eyes of yours as Steve smirked playfully up at you from where he sat.

Subtly, you gave Billy a gentle nod, silently talking him down from doing anything stupid in the middle of the classroom, before taking your seat yet again.

Thankfully, Steve managed to keep his hands off of you for the remainder of the class but, unbeknownst to both you and Steve, that assholes fate had been sealed. Billy might not have been able to do anything to him yet, but he would. And he was going to enjoy every second of it.

The bell eventually rang out and Billy, wasting no time at all, pushed himself off of his desk and walked up beside you. “You okay?” He asked, but his eyes were trained on Steve who was much too busy high-fiving one of his friends to notice Billy’s murderous stare.

“I’m fine, Billy,” you laughed, “he’s an idiot, but he’s a harmless idiot.”

“Harmless?” Billy’s voice was low and impressively tame considering the fact that beneath it all, his blood was boiling. “He has no right to touch you.”

Glancing over your shoulder you smiled at one of the other cheerleaders before looking back at Billy. “I appreciate the concern, Billy, but I’m fine.”

That casual tone of yours just about killed him every single time. It was a punch to the gut compared the woman he had all to himself behind closed doors. This version of you, this censored version, was just a part of the charade, he knew that much, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

The rest of your classmates slowly filtered out of the room, eventually leaving you and Billy alone as you tossed your notebook into your bag. That weighty stare of his was ever present, but you pretended not to notice in fear of someone walking in. Billy Loomis was a lot of things, but subtle, he was not.

At least where you were concerned.

“That’s bullshit,” he seethed, “someone ought to show that fucker he can’t just go around touching what isn’t his. He—”

“What isn’t his?” A bitter laugh tumbled out of your lips. “I’m not a piece of fucking meat, Billy. I’m not his, sure, but I’m not yours, either.”

You watched the muscle in Billy’s jaw clench and that vein in his neck that always seemed to swell whilst he was under pressure visibly strained and pulsed before your very eyes. “I didn’t say you were,” he muttered, “I just meant that he needs to learn some respect.”

“He does,” you agreed, “but that’s not your job to teach him.”

Leaning against the desk, he ran a hand through his hair and glowered across at you. “I could tell it bothered you, so why the hell are you defending him?”

You rolled your eyes and swung your bag over your shoulder. “I’m not defending him, Billy. Steve’s an asshole, we all know this, but I don’t want you to get in shit thinking it’s your job to defend me. I can look after myself, Billy. I promise.” With another futile glance towards the door, you reached forward and gently ran your thumbnail against his bottom lip. “Besides, you’re too cute for a fistfight.”

Upon dropping your hand back down at your side, Billy caught it and gave it a squeeze. “I can’t help it if I get heated about all these assholes. Look at you.”

“You can help it, actually,” you laughed. “Don’t engage, first off. And, secondly,” you leaned in a little closer so that your lips were dangerously close to his ear, “try to remember who it is I’m fucking at the end of the day, hmm?” You pulled away and offered him a quick wink before walking out of the classroom. “See you at lunch, Loomis.”

»»-------------¤-------------««

“All I’m saying is that if he didn’t want me giving sage advice to those renting a fucking movie, then why hire me in the first place?” Randy asked with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

You, Tatum, Sid and Randy were all outside eating at the fountain whilst waiting for the other two idiots to join. Pushing your sunglasses further up your nose you smirked across at Randy. “Randy, you told the guy not to rent the movie. Your job is to make people want to watch these movies.” You popped a carrot into your mouth. “How you’re still employed is truly a mystery.”

“That’s the thing,” he laughed, “he fired me!”

“Shocking,” Sid chuckled, “what did you say when he fired you?”

Randy stole a celery stick out of your Tupperware container and bit down. “Nothing, I kept working. Fire me? Not on my watch. No thanks.”

With a shake of your head, you stretched out your legs on the concrete slab of the fountain and found Stu bounding towards you with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Did you guys hear?” He asked, swooping down to kiss Tatum’s cheek. “Our man, Billy, snapped.”

You froze mid-bite and immediately looked at Sid who had sat up looking concerned as ever. “What?” She asked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Billy and Steve, man,” Stu laughed and snatched a carrot stick from your stash. “The two of them got into it during one coach’s drills and Billy just,” he bawled his hand into a fist and slapped it against his other hand. A resounding smack echoed out around you. “Clobbered him, man. It was awesome!”

With your appetite long gone, you slowly swung your legs back onto the ground and pinched your brow. You were raging. Not only had the idiot ignored you by engaging with Steve, but he’d gone ahead and fought him, too.

“What?” Sidney croaked. “W-Why would he do that? He’s never been the type to just fight someone like that. Did Steve do something to provoke him?”

You chewed on your lip and stared ahead as Stu merely shrugged. “Don’t think so,” he stole another carrot and grinned at something in the distance. “Ask him yourself, here he comes.”

Your blood was boiling beneath your skin as you watched Billy casually waltz over to your group as though he wasn’t wielding one hell of a fucking bruise on his cheek, accentuated perfectly with a small, clean slice along his cheekbone that would almost surely scar. The fucking moron.

“Billy!” Sid gasped, jumping up to tend to her boyfriend’s injuries.

You, on the other hand, forever the other woman, remained dutifully planted on the edge of the fountain. Not that you would have tended to him in any way, shape, or form in that instance. In fact, you weren’t sure you could trust yourself not to add to the mess on his face.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, giving her hand a quick kiss as she gently observed his cheek. “Things just got heated on the field, is all.”

“You should see the other guy,” Stu beamed, “I hear Steve lost a tooth!”

Your anger swelled, momentarily blinding you as the rest of your friends laughed and asked for a play-by-play of events. Not quite trusting yourself, you pushed yourself up from the edge of the fountain wall and grabbed your bag. “I’ll see you guys later,” you hummed, not looking up at the bruised idiot in fear or snarling at him.

“You don’t want to stay for story time?” Stu asked, looking between you and Billy in amusement.

“Can’t.” Smacking on what you only hoped was a convincing smile, you shook your head and gestured to the school. “Forgot I had a meeting with Miss Wills about getting my biology grade up.”

Just before you turned on your heel to head back into the school, you just managed to catch Billy’s eye as he dutifully sat beside Sidney. She was leaning into him, gently prodding the scar along his cheek with a concerned frown marring her pretty face. He, on the other hand, was staring evocatively across at you with a small frown of his own.

Clearing your throat, you waved them off rather quickly before heading back inside of the school. You were too angry to care about how you felt the weight of his stare all over you before finally disappearing from sight.

»»-------------¤-------------««

You locked your bedroom door that night and closed your curtains to avoid rolling over and seeing the idiot that was currently plaguing your every thought staring back at you from the second story of your house. In fact, that was what you did for the next three nights all the while managing to avoid Billy Loomis as much as humanly possible whilst at school.

So far, he had tried on four separate occurrences to get you alone. Whether it was subtly nodding towards an empty classroom with the gang around or lingering by your desk after English in hopes of pinning you down for a chat, it was obvious that Billy was desperate to talk with you. To smooth things over. To move on from this rather ugly display of jealousy.

But you weren’t. And, honestly, you weren’t sure if you were going to be any time soon, if at all.

A small dose of jealousy was only normal every once in a while. Not healthy, by any means, but a normal part of any relationship. Only this relationship you and Billy had was anything but normal. He had a girlfriend. A lovely, kind girlfriend who would have given him the world three times over if he asked. So just how Billy was the one with the audacity to be jealous made no sense.

Whenever you thought about it, you got mad. The injustice of it all was truly something you couldn’t wrap your head around. Just how Billy Loomis, the one with a girlfriend, could get jealous of a guy you were barely even acquaintances with really threw you for a loop. And yet you, the asshole who had somehow fallen in love with him, had to quietly take a seat and watch him dote over another girl in public.

Dote over your best friend.

Oh, the irony was delicious.

Tossing the book you’d been reading aside, you let out a quiet groan and closed your eyes as you heard the familiar jiggle of your window. It, like it had been for days, was still locked, thankfully, and your curtains still drawn in fear of seeing him.

The commotion tonight, was brief. He only tried for a second or two before you heard him meander his way back down to ground level. With an annoyed sigh, you reached for your book only to stop dead in your tracks when your doorbell rang out through your whole house.

Shooting up from your bed, you immediately lunged for the door and held your ear to it as your mother quietly complained about just who it could possibly be at this hour of the night.

Please be anyone else, please be anyone else, please be—”

“Oh, Billy,” your mother gushed. She’d always liked Billy. The traitor. “It’s awful late, is everything okay?”

Furling your brow, you pressed your ear further into your door and heard Billy’s deep voice say something – something probably charming – before your mother’s voice called up to you.

“Y/N, sweetie,” she beckoned, “Billy Loomis is here.”

You opened and shut your mouth several times over as you thought of your next few words. Somehow swearing at him from where you stood didn’t seem like the best idea with your parents in the house so, instead, you opted for the next best option.

You said nothing.

Holding your breath, you stood at the head of your room in nothing more than your flannel sleep shorts and tank top while hoping beyond hope that Billy would be ushered out of your house.

“I’m afraid she might be sleeping, dear,” your mother sympathetically cooed, “was there something you needed?”

Pressing your ear tighter to the wood, you barely made out the words ‘book’ and ‘homework’ before another sympathetic cluck escaped your mom’s lips. “And it’s due tomorrow?”

Bastard.

You panicked. His ploy was obviously to come up here and search for a book that didn’t exist all the while your parents carried on with their regular scheduled programming downstairs – but your parents weren’t dumb, nor were they naïve. Surely, your mother would offer to come up and root around for whatever it was he lied and said you had before she would inevitably have to wake you up in order to deliver the goods to the lying Loomis.

Your anger pulsed as realization dawned on you.

You had to go downstairs.

“Did you say something?” You asked, feigning innocence as you pushed your door open and made your way down, barely glancing at Billy who still stood in your entryway. “What are you doing here?”

Billy licked his lips. “I, uh, wanted to swing by and pick up the book for our English assignment. I think you must have grabbed mine, too, when you were putting your stuff away.”

“Nope,” you shrugged, “I don’t have it.”

Billy awkwardly smiled across at your parents before looking back at you. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you replied coolly. “Maybe you left it at Sid’s house?”

His shoulders briefly fell at your tone and, for a split second, you felt your heart fall into your stomach. You knew you were hurting him with the callousness of your words, but you had to stick to your guns this time around for your own sanity.

“Guess I must have misplaced it,” he wryly admitted. “Sorry for the intrusion, Mrs. Y/L/N.” His eyes flickered to you. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

You nodded, prepared to watch him leave, but before he could get a foot out of the door, your mother stopped him.

“Wait, Billy,” she ran out of the living room and into the kitchen, leaving you and Billy alone for all of three seconds before she shuffled back in. “Here,” she held out a dish packed to the brim with Shepard’s Pie. “I know your dad’s been working a lot of late nights so dinner’s might not be the most well-balanced, but a growing boy has to eat.”

Feeding the enemy. Typical.

“Y/N made it,” she bragged, unwittingly fanning the flames of annoyance in your chest. “It’s delicious, too.”

Touched, Billy grabbed the Tupperware container from your mom before glancing at you. He knew you could cook, you’d cooked for him several times in the span of your friendship – long before the two of you began…doing whatever it was you were doing – but as he accepted the container, there was an emotion there that was much too raw and real for you to try and decompress.

You realized, slowly, that your mother’s offering of Shepard’s Pie was probably the first time a maternal figure had paid him any mind since his own mother had walked out on him all those months back.

Your stomach dropped at the thought.

“Y/N is a great cook,” he agreed. This time, his voice was much quieter. “And thank you again, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

Once again, you watched him turn on his heel to leave the house but, with that niggling feeling of guilt twisting inside of your belly, you opened your mouth before you could so much as think to stop yourself.

“I’ll walk you out,” you muttered, flashing your mother a fleeting smile. “Be right back.”

Slipping on some shoes, you ignored Billy’s obviously surprised face as he lingered in the doorway before finally looking across at him. “Let’s go.”

The night was brisk as the two of you strolled towards his car in silence. You shivered absentmindedly as your pajamas offered no real sense of protection from the chill before glancing at Billy. Naturally, his eyes were already on you.

“Do you think your mother’s watching us right now?”

“Knowing her?” You shrugged. “Probably.”

He swallowed hard. “We should talk about what happened.”

“No,” you shook your head, “I know what happened. You saw Steve touch me and got irrationally jealous over it and, rather than deal with it like a grown man, you punched him and he lost his fucking tooth.”

A flicker of anger crossed over his handsome features. “It’s not that simple, Y/N, he—”

“That is probably the only simple thing about our little situation, Billy,” you acknowledged quietly. “You got jealous and you punched a guy. Doesn’t get simpler than that.”

“He deserved it,” he argued. “He’s a moron and shouldn’t have touched you. Do you know how hard it is to see that and not defend you the way I wanted to while it was happening?”

“Defend me?” You sneered. “Or stake your claim on me? No offence, Billy, but the entire male population of our school could ask me on a date tomorrow, and you’d have no fucking say in the matter. Whether they touch me or ask me out or anything, because you and I aren’t a thing.”

Billy chewed on his bottom lip as his grip on the Tupperware tightened considerably. “Yes, we are.” His voice was eerily calm despite the panic surging through his chest. “I love you, I told you that at the cornfield and I meant it. I fucking love you, Y/N.”

“You did,” you said, “and my feelings haven’t changed but you can’t be blind to the fact that this isn’t working, Billy. You getting jealous over me getting unwanted attention from a guy all the while expecting me to sit there and watch you and Sid flaunt your shit all over town?” You could feel your eyes begin to water as your emotions got the better of you, but you wouldn’t cry in front of him. You wouldn’t dare. “I’m supposed to sit there and trust what you’re telling me. That you will break up with Sid, that you do love me, that, if things were different, it would be me you’d be with and only me. But one guy squeezes my thigh and you lose your shit? Where’s the fucking sense in that?”

“I fucked up,” Billy admitted, his bravado long gone. “I see that now, I fucked up. But --”

“But,” you scoffed. “See, there it is. An excuse. I don’t want your excuses anymore, Billy. I want you and while I thought that was enough, I’m seeing it’s not that easy anymore. Not if you get to act like this unhinged asshole whenever I get a sliver of attention.”

You watched Billy’s eyes search your face as his hands trembled. He wanted to reach out and cradle your face, you could tell that much, but – tale as old as time – with an audience, even if it was just a possibility that it was your mother, he remained still. “Don’t do this to me, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice shaky. “Please. I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sosorry.”

“I just think we need to take some time away from each other,” you muttered. “For our own sanity.”

“No,” Billy argued, stepping towards you in desperation. “No, Y/N, I need you. Please don’t do this.”

“I think you need to either make a decision with Sid or be more open with me about what the fuck is going on inside of that head of yours. You can’t go around punching people because you get jealous, Billy. And, until you figure your shit out, I think we should stop this. Whatever this is between us.”

“It’s a relationship,” Billy’s brows furrowed in outrage. “Two people who fucking love each other is a relationship, Y/N.”

A sad smile broke out across your face as you stared up at the starry sky above you. “Two people who love each other but can’t show it. Who have to hide whenever people are around in fear or being seen as anything more than good pals.” You shook your head and met his frenzied stare. “That’s not a relationship, Billy. That’s fucked up. We’re fucked up.” You sniffed and gestured down to the Tupperware in his hands. “Enjoy your food. I’m going back inside now, and I meant what I said. We need some time apart so, please, don’t come around here anymore. At least not until…” you let the sentence hang in the air, unsure of your next few words.

“Until what?” He was clinging to your every word but there was an anger so palpable radiating off of him that made you take a small step back. “Until you decide that you don’t want me anymore? Walk away and leave me like my mother did?”

You cocked your head to the side and hoped like hell the hurt you felt at that accusation didn’t directly show on your face. “If you truly think I would do that, Billy, then we’re even more fucked up than I thought.” You sniffed and began to turn back to your house. “I have a lot of faith in you, Billy, and a whole hell of a lot of trust. It’s about time you showed me that same consideration.”

The raw emotion on his face was jarring and almost made you hang back long enough to console him like you would any other time, but you couldn’t. If he couldn’t trust you, what the hell hope did either of you have at this becoming a real thing? Walking back to your house, your heart broke and any emotion you fought so desperately to keep down began to bubble to the surface. But you wouldn’t break down though, at least not yet.

You always had your cards on the table when it came to Billy Loomis and it was about time that he started showing his, as well.

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decepti-thots · 3 years ago

Note

thoughts on MTOs?

MTOs are so INTERESTING conceptually. I wish there had been more done with them in the comic, tbh. We get those glimpses of what it means that they exist at times- especially with how it implicitly impacts our understanding of Getaway's character, I would say- but it's more flavour than anything the comic ever really gets into.

It's a concept that belongs more to MTMTE/LL, but which feels like it would have had more room to breathe if (ex-)RiD had been interested in exploring it. We get NAILs contrasting Bots and Cons there, but the next logical step is NAILs contrasting specifically with MTOs. I think so, anyway. Fighting to 'go back' to a world you never had a chance to know and which nobody ordering your creation ever really thought about your future place in, being confronted with all these people actually 'coming back' to a world where they see you as a cause of their world being upended when you never had a choice. Love that concept. Want it.

Also, in a continuity that broadly treats TFs very much as "mechanical aliens" rather than "robots", MTOs are as close as it ever really gets to exploring ideas of "what does it mean to build people for a specific purpose, and one they have every reason to really reject" a la traditional 'robot fiction'. Even moreso than cold constructs generally, because all MTOs exist for one specific purpose with no real wriggle room, and that's an existential nightmare to me the longer you think on it. (Man, I want stuff that explores cold construct Megatron who started a war over functionism... building MTOs. That is a barely-tapped vein in fandom IMO and I want it. That's so MUCH.)

#my favourite headcanon is there are MTOs built with alt modes that never existed before the war in forged bots and it's a WHOLE messy thing #ask meme

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peachycheol · 4 years ago

Text

| breakfast in bed |

➸ summary: something tells you that seungcheol’s idea of breakfast is not a quick bowl of cereal and milk. not that you mind. ➸ genre: pwp, just pure smut here baybee ➸ pairing: brother’s best friend!seungcheol x reader ➸ warning: dirty talk, spanking, fingering, slight daddy kink, unprotected sex, perhaps a slice of a creampie, this is my first time writing smut so that is also a warning 👉👈 ➸ w.c: 2.4k

➸ author’s note: hi i’m dove! this is my first smut that i am publishing on my very new svt smut blog, @peachycheol. tbh i’m reposting it because the tags didn’t work the first time 🥺 anyway, hopefully this works. i hope y’all enjoy!

“Is that for me?”

You jump a little at the sudden feeling of Seungcheol’s lips brushing ever so lightly against your ear. The way the tenor of his voice sends small vibrations down your neck immediately has you pressing your thighs together. You bite back a smile and keep your eyes trained forward as you try to focus on pouring milk into your cereal. But it’s pretty difficult to focus on anything when your older brother’s best friend is standing so close you could feel the warmth of his body against your back. “Make your own breakfast,” you whisper back.

You feel, rather than see, his lips turn up into that cocky grin. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you feel your arousal seep into your panties. His fingers teasingly graze up your thighs, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps, only to slip them underneath the waistband of your shorts so he can rub small circles into your hips. A soft sigh leaves your lips and you unthinkingly melt into his soft touches. “Can I have breakfast in bed then?” he asks, shifting closer so that his body presses yours against the cool marble of the countertop.

It was obvious that he wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath his pants and the thin material of your sleeping shorts certainly did nothing to conceal his growing bulge. You do your best not to whimper, instead scoffing playfully. “Seungcheol, that is so corny--ngh!”

His grip on your hips suddenly tightens, and this time, your back arches when you feel him grind up against your ass again. “I bet it still got your little panties wet though. It’s just so easy to get that cute little pussy nice and dripping for me. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Though you could feel your slick pooling in your underwear, you never liked to give in to him so easily. “N-No,” you manage to stutter out. “Corny jokes don’t make my panties wet.”

“No?” Seungcheol turns you around, caging you between his arms so that you’re forced to meet his unconvinced gaze. Your defiance immediately crumbles at the sight of him; it was almost unair how hot he looked in a simple white t-shirt and sweatpants. His eyes bore down on you, dark and hungry, one of his eyebrows cocked in a challenge. “So you’re telling me that if I touch you right now, I won’t feel your pussy soaking through your tight fucking shorts? I find that a little hard to believe, considering our past exploits.”

In a last ditch attempt to keep up your cheek, you shift your focus to the chain necklace he always wears around his neck, but that only makes your mouth water even more. You were aching for him to get his hands on you again. “I guess you’ll just have to touch me and find out.”

“Mmh! Harder, please!” you cry out. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when Seungcheol brings his hand down to land another hard spank on your ass, leaving behind another bright pink hand print. ”A-Ah!”

Seungcheol chuckles as he looks at you bent over his knee, your shorts pulled down just enough to expose your ass. The two of you seemed to find yourselves in this position more and more frequently lately. He reaches between your legs and runs his thick fingers through your soft folds, nearly groaning when he feels how you gush out onto his hand.

“Even your punishment has you leaking all over my lap, baby. There’s no use denying it. I could probably even...” Rather than complete his thought out loud, he peels your shorts all the way off and eases two fingers into you. They slide in without any resistance, the lewd sounds of your wetness filling your room as he begins to fuck his fingers into your tight pussy. This time, he can’t hold back his low growl. “Fuck, your pussy’s always so wet for me. I can’t wait to make a mess of your tight little cunt, baby. You’re always making such a mess on daddy’s cock, isn’t that right?”

You clench around his fingers with each filthy word he utters, spreading your legs wider so that he can reach even deeper. “Y-yes daddy!” He stills his thrusts and simply rubs the pads of his fingers against your velvet walls, urging you to continue. “I a-always-- ngh-- make a mess on daddy’s m-massive cock. I c-can’t-- mmh!-- I can’t help it! It just feels too good. Hah-- please!”

“Such a good girl for me today.” His praise only makes you whimper and wiggle your hips needily. He rewards you with several deep thrusts that have your back arching in an attempt to feel him there again. You let out a shaky moan when he finally brushes against your g-spot, and Seungcheol watches in awe as you move your hips back to fuck yourself deeper onto his fingers. He is unbelievably hard. “Fuck.”

In one swift motion, he pulls out of you and takes a hold of your waist, flipping you so that you’re lying on your back underneath him. Any protests you might have had about the sudden emptiness are silenced when he pushes his digits, glistening with your slick, past your lips, and you don’t hesitate to suck them clean. You moan at the taste, closing your eyes as you sloppily lick his fingers. Seungcheol is intent on etching each detail of this moment in his mind, from the way your hair splayed on the mattress to the way you so willingly wrapped your lips around him. When you feel Seungcheol rub himself against your thigh, your eyes flutter open to see him watching you intently. It makes you clench around nothing.

Although he's obviously straining through his pants, Seungcheol still takes his time, slowly dragging his fingers from your lips and trailing them down your neck to the swell of your breasts. A dimpled smile spreads across his cherry red lips when he sees how your cropped tank top does nothing to hide your hardened nipples, which only makes it easier for him to rub them through the thin fabric with his moistened fingers. “O-oh,” you whine, arching into his touch. He pushes your shirt up to reveal your breasts, but he couldn’t be bothered to take it all the way off. There were much more pressing matters at hand, like leaning down to lightly bite on a pert bud, his tongue flicking at it teasingly.

You shiver when the cool metal of his necklace presses against your hot skin, as if it had sent electricity through your veins. “S-seungcheol,” you moan, your fingers tugging at his dark hair as you feel your own slick coat your inner thighs, making a complete mess of you. “Please, I need you so badly.”

Seungcheol’s cock throbs at your neediness. He always loved it when you begged. “Okay baby, I’ll take care of you,” he whispers, lifting up his head to press a burning kiss to your lips. He parts from you for a moment to quickly yank his t-shirt off, and he smiles down at you when your hands automatically slide over his bare chest. His skin feels hot beneath your fingers and you grip at his shoulders to pull him down for another wet kiss, while he kicks off his sweatpants.

Your fingers dig crescents into his shoulders when you finally feel his hard member glide through your sopping folds. “Ngh!” You throw your head back when you feel the head of his cock nudge against your sensitive clit, jolting at the sudden ripple of pleasure.

“Do you like that, baby? You like it when my cock rubs your little clit?” Seungcheol’s lips brush against yours as he starts to guide his cock to grind into you with more fervor. You can only nod frantically, nearly delirious from how unbelievably good it feels. “Your clit is always so sensitive. You came so hard when I ate you out last week and we were alone in my car for only five minutes. I bet I could make you cum just like this, hm?”

At this point, only incoherent whines fall from your lips as Seungcheol continues to rub the head of his cock into your nub. There is no denying the heat simmering in your lower belly, and it’s only a few more moments until you cry out, squirming as your orgasm washes over you. “Mmh!-- O-Ohh!” Rather than sate you, it only seems to stoke the longing within you as it continues to lick up your insides until your aching is simply unbearable. One breathless ‘please’ from you is all Seungcheol needs to hear to grab your legs and spread them apart until your pulsing pussy is on full display.

He groans at the tantalizing sight and holds you open just so he can watch how his cock slowly sinks into your entrance. “Oh, fuck-- How are you always so fucking tight? You’re just sucking me in, baby.”

He bottoms out in one quick thrust that has you gasping for air. You whimper, relishing at how his thick cock seems to always fill you in the most delicious way. Seungcheol wastes no time and begins to fuck into you deep and hard, just like he knows you like it. “Mmh-- you’re so-o b-big!” The last word melts into a mewl when he suddenly pistons his hips up into you without warning, which immediately has you clenching down on him. “H-hah, Seungcheol!”

Seungcheol grunts in response, leaning forward to lick and nip along your neck and collarbones. In an attempt to somehow ground yourself, you wrap your arms under his shoulders, but if you’re honest, you had long been consumed by the rough drag of his cock against your walls. “You’re doing so good, baby,” he groans into your ear, tugging lightly on the lobe. “Does it feel good, sweetheart?”

“S-so guh!--good!” The new nickname makes your heart skip a beat, and a different kind of warmth spreads across your cheeks and fills your chest, but it leaves you attempting to clutch Seungcheol closer all the same. At this angle, Seungcheol’s hips hit deeper, pounding right into the spot that has you seeing stars.“Mmf-- F-fuuuck! Right there!”

Every one of your senses feel as though they have been dialed up to 10, and your thighs shake from sensitivity overload; the soft drag of his lips, the rough scratching of his chain necklace, the loud slap of his skin against yours, all have your toes curling and your hips moving to meet his thrusts.

“Shit, sweetheart, you look so good like this,” Seungcheol’s voice is hoarse, a little shaky as he continues to fuck into you with vigourous precision. When you can only answer in curses and pleas for more, he flashes you that dangerous smirk of his again. Then, his fingers dig into your waist, pressing you down as he begins to pound into you quickly. Each of your needy movements, each of your sinful moans, were bringing him closer and closer to his end, but he was determined to have you cum again before he did. The bed frame creaks along with his efforts as he continues to fuck you into the mattress, a light sheen of sweat forming at his temples. You keen loudly, your blunt nails scraping down his back.

“Ch-cheol-- unh-- I’m so-- oh! I’m so c-close, please,” you manage to say in between all your unintelligible moaning, and he brings one of his thumbs down to rub harsh circles into your swollen clit. The whole world seems to come to a halt, and all that exists is you, Seungcheol, and your insatiable appetite for the ecstasy only he can give you.

A broken sob gets stuck in your throat as your orgasm rips through you, your body going rigid as you cum hard. The force of your orgasm has your legs shaking and you whine in complete bliss, grasping for Seungcheol while you ride it out on his deliciously hard cock.

Seungcheol’s head falls to rest on your shoulder, his thrusts falling out of rhythm as he finally chases his own high. “F-fuck, baby,” he grits out. He fucks into you desperately, groaning into your neck, his orgasm quickly approaching. When he comes undone, he pushes deep into you and stills, shooting his hot release into your spent pussy, your name tumbling from his lips.

After a moment’s rest, he gingerly pulls his softening cock out of you and watches as his cum gushes out of you and onto your sheets.

“No!” you yell too late, and sit up to examine the dirtied covers. You pout at Seungcheol and flop back down in a huff. “I literally just washed these!”

“Told you you make a mess,” Seungcheol grins. Before you could make your own snide remark, you hear the front door open and close downstairs, and the both of you look at each other with wide eyes.

“Hey guys! I brought McDonald’s breakfast! With fresh hash browns!” Joshua, your older brother, calls out from downstairs. “Guys?”

You scramble to pull your tank top down, blindly grabbing Seungcheol’s sweat pants and pulling them on. Seungcheol makes a small noise of protest. “Those are mine! What am I supposed to wear?” he whispers loudly at you.

“You’re supposed to shut up and hide!” you say back as you pick up his shirt off the floor, which you quickly throw into the closet along with the naked man. “Now shh!”

Right as you close the closet on Seungcheol’s pouting face, you hear a knock at your bedroom door. “Hey, you gremlin! I brought some breakfast!”

“Okay I’m coming, jeez!” You swing the door open, and Joshua immediately covers his eyes in disgust.

“Oh my god, put a shirt on, you harlot!” he shouts. “This is a house of God-- it is no place for your debauchery!”

You roll your eyes and snatch the McDonald’s bag from his hand. “This is a shirt!”

“For a toddler, maybe!” he grumbles, stubbornly keeping his eyes covered. “Did you see if Seungcheol left, by the way? He wasn’t in the guest room when I came home.”

You let out a very convincing hum. “Hmm, no I have not. I kinda just woke up.”

“Huh, that’s weird. Maybe I should call him,” Joshua’s eyebrows furrow, and he almost reaches down to take out his phone until he realizes that that would leave one of his eyeballs defenseless against your gag-inducing excuse for a shirt. “Ugh! Ew. I’ll just call him later. You can have his McDonald’s too, I guess.”

“Really? Sweet!” you say excitedly. “I’ll make sure to thank him for the breakfast!”

#seventeen smut #seungcheol smut #s.coups smut #seventeen scenarios #s.coups scenarios #seungcheol scenarios #m:csc #l:os #g:pwp #if this works i shall delete the other one #but if it don't i shall keep the other one #sighs tumblr pls #PLS JUST LET PPL SEE THIS FILTH #IN THESE TRYING TIMES

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joel-millerr · 4 years ago

Text

Kijimi

Chapter One of We Are One When Together (formerly A Mandalorian and a Smuggler)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8.5K

Warnings: Reader cauterizes a wound, so read with caution if that makes you uncomfortable

Summary: You've become quite a good spice smuggler. You always managed to evade capture, and now the New Republic is getting desperate. After meeting a friend on Kijimi, you planned to get the hell off that planet quietly, but you've never had to deal with someone like The Mandalorian. // This chapter establishes the reader and is more of an introduction than plot driven tbh

A/N: I’ve never written a second person POV before so pls be gentle. Also, this story takes place after Chapter 12.

You're sitting in a booth at the back of the cantina. Periodically, you take the time to scan your surroundings. There’s a steady flow of individuals coming in and out, therefore it’s hard to keep track of everyone, but you try to monitor their movements anyway. Being in such a crowded area is risky right now, but when Tye asked you to meet him on Kijimi, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to catch up. Besides, you’re currently on a work hiatus, and now seemed like the perfect time to get back into the spice smuggling game.

It’s not that you wouldn’t have been able to do anything else. You’re quite skillful with your hands because you used to help your father fix ships back on Tatooine. Theoretically, you could have kept doing that for the rest of your days, but there was always a part of you deep down that made you believe you were meant for more important things. Granted, this isn’t exactly what you had in mind, but it is considerably more exhilarating than just cleaning and fixing ships.

It was Tye who first mentioned this “job”. You were busy fixing a T-14 hyperdrive generator that had been destroyed during a dumb gambling game of chicken. Why people would purposely charge at each other in space, you’ll never understand.

Anyway, he knew you were starting to get tired of the same routine every day. He could see it in the way your shoulders slumped while you were working, and how your voice grew tired of talking about re-wiring, and the maintenance of spaceships.

Ever since you were a child, your father had taken you with him to work and you loved it. You loved being able to spend time with your father and also learn the ins and outs of any spaceship. You could probably take a whole ship apart and put it back together in less than a week, but ever since your parents died, the work became mundane and repetitive. You no longer enjoyed doing the work. You did it just to get by.

“It’s a fairly easy job,” He started to say. You were sitting with your legs crossed, hyperdrive in your lap, rewiring the chunk of metal. “We meet the manufacturer on Kijmi and then come back to Tatooine and bring it to the client.”

“I don’t know, Tye,” You craved adventure, but your friend had a bad habit of getting into trouble. Unlike you, he didn’t have a steady job. Instead, he took whatever was offered to him, no matter how legit it was. You were usually the voice of reason and tried your best to get him on a straight path, but his spirit always craved danger, and while you fantasized about going on epic adventures, you tried to keep it on the legal sides of things.

Tye laid a hand on your shoulder, and in turn you looked up at him. His eyes were gentle, inviting and trusting. More often than not, you attempted your best to avoid his gaze whenever he tried to reel you into something because you knew as soon as you’d look at him, your walls would come crumbling down and whatever he asked you to do would get done. You crossed your left arm over your torso, placed your hand over his, and let a deep breath escape your lips.

“What are we transporting?” You asked, rising to your feet to look at him properly.

He hesitated to answer. Biting down on his bottom lip, his eyes broke contact and shifted down to his feet.

“Tye?” You inquired, leaning down to try to catch his eyes again.

“Uh…” His hand began rubbing the nape of his neck. You came to the conclusion by his behavior that this job wasn’t going to be something along the lines of transporting pieces of scrap metal and he knew you very rarely took on an illegal job. You had done maybe one or two over the years but if you could avoid it, you tried to keep your employment on the side that wouldn’t get your ass thrown in a cell.

“What’s the transport, Tye?” Your voice was more stern this time. This seemed to snap his mind back into reality and he finally met your eyes.

“Spice,” His voice was barely above a whisper and if you weren’t entirely focusing on his tone, you wouldn’t have heard him at all. Your muscles went rigid and you swallowed the lump in your throat you didn’t know was there. Once the empire fell, the New Republic had the impossible task of trying to keep the peace as well as police the entire galaxy, and wherever they were unable to properly govern, spice runners thrived. You had heard stories about spice runners. How every single one was a highly wanted criminal but were almost impossible to find. They worked quietly and discreetly and were able to smuggle spice on pretty much every corner of the galaxy.

“It’s foolproof. They supply the ship and give the location. All we have to do is meet the supplier on Kijimi and then bring the product back here. It’s simple enough,”

You began shaking your head immediately. The risk of getting caught was too high, and spice running was a hard limit for you.

“No, I can’t. What you’re asking is insane, Tye. Spice running?” You emphasized the last two words to make sure you heard him clearly.

“I wouldn’t have offered it to you unless I was absolutely sure nothing bad would happen.” Tye reached out and gently pressed his palm to your elbow, begging you to hear him out. “I can see you don’t love doing this anymore. Ever since your parents passed, I could see the passion disappear. It’s completely drained out of you. We do this one job and then you can go back to fixing hyperdrives in this kriffing hangar.” He waved his arms around the store. “Don’t you want to see what else is out there?”

You opened your mouth to protest but the words never came. He was right. Since you were a child, you dreamed of leaving Tatooine. You were tired of the sand, of the heat, of the kriffing dryness that was always eating at your skin. You dreamed of worlds where lush green ran rampant. Trees that grew so high you couldn’t make out the top. Grass that would tickle your hips as you travelled through it. Clean, fresh oxygen instead of the dry, dirty air you had grown accustomed to here. You had heard stories from travelers whose ships you’d fix about waterfalls, lakes, beaches. A large body of water? All these things you couldn’t even fathom. How beautiful must it be to live on a planet where water wasn’t fucking scarce. What did an actual shower feel like? Not some sonic shower that merely got you sterile enough to do about your daily business, but an actual shower, with water.

So yeah, you wanted to get the fuck off of Tatooine, but was this really the only option you had?

Tye could sense your apprehensiveness, but he knew the idea was tempting. Closing the gap between you, he wrapped his arms around your body. He was much larger than you, and you almost disappeared in his embrace. Taking a deep breath in his chest, you let yourself imagine a better life.

A life where you got to visit new worlds, encounter people from different walks of life, an existence where you truly got to experience the greatest things the galaxy had to offer. As a child, you’d lie in your cot and wish for an extraordinary life. One you could recount to your kids with awe, not wasting your years away on a desert planet that no longer had anything to give you. When your family passed away, you worked yourself to the bone, trying to lose yourself in repairing ships. You wished someone; anyone, would help you escape off this godforsaken wasteland one day.

You’d regret not taking the risk, you thought to yourself.

Before you knew the words had slipped from your lips, you were agreeing to the job.

You’ve been a spice runner ever since, and you were pretty damn good at your job too. Since your frame was relatively small, it was easy for you to slip in and out of towns without ever being seen, and because you had been working on crafts your whole life, you had become pretty good at flying them too. You had made an impressive name for yourself. Even if you had someone on your tail, you were always able to lose them once you left the port. Your movements were sharp as a tack and was always thinking one step ahead. It enabled you to outrun any hunter or whatever sad, inexperienced New Republic officer that tried to snag you. When you first joined, all your runs were with Tye, but soon after getting accustomed to how runs operated, you were able to go solo. After realizing how much quicker the job went by without having to rely on another person, you became a strict lone wolf. On your own, you could take higher risks, and that made the thrill of the job even more exhilarating. You had become quite the adrenaline junkie, taking some chances even your fellow smugglers would find questionable.

On one job, you were purposely sloppy and let some officers tail you right up to the moment you fought them off in your ship just because of the way the blood in your veins fired through your body. The threat of being caught ignited every nerve-ending in your body, and you constantly chased that feeling.

You were staying on a quiet, uneventful planet when you had gotten a hologram from Tye asking to meet you on Kijimi. “For old time’s sake” he said. Since you had no other run lined up, you figured it was a good time to meet him. It had been a couple months since you last saw him, and now seemed like the perfect time to catch up. Maybe he had a job in mind, too.

The life of a spice runner typically wasn’t very long. It was a physically exhausting profession, and often times a spice runner would get captured by either a bounty hunter or an officer of the New Republic, or die at the hands of a rival smuggler. You knew your days as a runner was limited, so you made sure to have the time of your life while you had the opportunity.

Lately though, a lot of your peers were getting caught by some highly skilled hunter. Whoever it was had managed to trap four of your closest counterparts and you were on high alert. No one had ever been able to snatch that many smugglers in such a short period of time, and your particular crew was starting to get anxious. The runs were beginning to get more sporadic, and spending more time underground, only going out when absolutely necessary, hence the reason you were camping out on lightly populated planet. Technically, you shouldn’t even be in this cantina right now. You should be laying low, waiting for the right moment to jump back into action, but because you now have a taste for the wilder things in life, you take the chance anyway. Plus, if Tye is still walking around then it couldn’t be that bad. He had become a lot more cautious than you, so you’re not all that worried.

You continue to keep your head down, only peering up whenever you hear the door opening. From the corner of your eye, you catch the glimpse of a dark maroon shape coming through the door. Tye. He preferred to wear dark colors, as not to draw any attention to himself. Tonight, he’s wearing a dark maroon jumpsuit, a long-ranged rifle strapped around his back. You—on the other hand, believed hiding in plain sight. You tended to wear neutral, earthy colors. It permitted you to blend in with your surroundings. Every run, you’d switch your uniform according to the conditions of the planet. White for cold environments, dark clothes for desolate, bleak planets, and so on.

He stands in the doorway of the cantina, taking a scan of the bar. He knows you usually like to sit in the back so that you have eyes on everyone that comes and goes, and it doesn’t take long for him to spot you. He walks over to your booth with a kind of swagger you’ve grown to love about him. He’s a pretty confident man, without being cocky. The way he carries himself has always fascinated you. His shoulders are always back, arms swaying at his sides, never looking down. He takes long strides as he saunters over to where you’re sitting. As you both have grown, he also has become a pretty well-respected member of your crew and he exudes that in his every step.

You scoot out of your booth to meet him as he gets closer to your table. Big toothy smiles are exchanged between the two of you and he just about runs to close the space between you. His large arms quickly pull you to his chest and all the air nearly punches right out of your lungs. He actually lifts you a couple inches off the ground in your embrace.

“Tye! I have a reputation over here. You can’t just pick me up like that,” However, you’re unable to hide the joy in your tone. You’ve missed him more than you realized. Yeah, you prefer doing jobs alone, but sometimes the solitude can get the best of you. Having someone to banter with, play sabacc with—you miss it, but you both have very different ways of transporting the product, so you know the days of you working together are long gone.

Tye finally lets you down and you both slide into the booth, sitting opposite of each other. You still have a clear view of the door.

“You couldn’t have picked a better shithole to meet?” You remark.

It’s not that Kijimi was a total shithole, it’s just that it was the biggest shithole of a planet you could ever set foot on. The weather was brutal, the people even more so. The New Republic wasn’t able to control the crime here, so criminal activity ran rampant here. Luckily, the main interest in the city was spice smuggling so you had the respect of most of the local spice lords, but there was always the threat of some travelers who couldn’t care less who you were or how important you were to come after you; to kill without mercy and take your corpse to the New Republic. Therefore, you tried to limit your visits unless they were absolutely necessary.

“I figured since we haven’t been together on Kijimi in a while, it might be worth the visit,” Tye answers honestly. Lifting a hand to the bartender behind the bar, they rushed over holding an empty cup in one hand a jug of bright blue liquid in the other. They place the jug between the both of you. Tye reaches into his pockets and places come credits on the table, giving the tender a small nod before they excuse themselves, grabbing the credits and stuffing them in a small bag that was tied to their waist.

“How nostalgic of you,” You mock, lighthearted enough for it to make him chuckle.

Despite trying to keep your mind focused on Tye, part of you is still observing the door behind him. In the short time you’ve been smuggling, not only had your reputation amongst other smugglers grown, but so had the price on your head. The last few jobs had been particularly difficult. Not only were you trying to fight off New Republic officers, but several bounty hunters had been tracking you. Apparently, you had become a huge pain in the ass. Unfortunately for them, that just made the game way more interesting, and honestly it really fueled your ego.

“Any news on the next run?” You inquire. It had been a few weeks since you last had a contract, and the itch for adventure was starting to get under your skin.

Tye’s eyebrows furrow. He looks at you quizzically. “I didn’t ask you to meet you to tell you about another run. I just wanted to see my best friend.”

“Oh come on. There’s always another job. Always someone who needs spice and someone who wants to get rid of it.”

He looks at you like he doesn’t know you. Leaning back in his seat, he begins shaking his head in disbelief.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You can feel beads of anger building deep inside you. He was the one that got you into this, and now he has the audacity to look at you like he doesn’t know you?

“You’ve changed.”

You scoff and let out a laugh, a laugh that drips with irritation. “Of course I’ve changed, Tye. Did you really think I was going to stay the doe-eyed girl you met on Tatooine?”

Tye reaches over and pours spotchka in both cups before taking his and throwing his head back to swallow every bit of it. “No,” He begins to say, using the back of his tunic to wipe his mouth clean. “I think those two young kids who grew up on Tatooine are long gone.”

Your lips form into a firm line, not entirely sure how to respond without sounding too cynical.

“I’ve heard stories, you know.”

“Oh have you, now?” Your eyebrow raises, and elbows firmly plant on the tabletop. The joy seems to drain from his face. Smile disappearing, and his eyes begin wandering, looking everywhere but into yours. Curiosity is starting to get the best of you, your eyes squinting and burning into him. Testing to see how he reacts; you push him again. “And what have you heard, Tye?”

Green eyes still refusing to meet yours, he’s busy eyeing his fingers that are fidgeting on the piece of wood that separates you. “That you’re becoming too reckless,” His voice is steady, but much lower than his usual tone. “You’re taking too many risks and causing problems where there doesn’t have to be.”

Your hard expression scorches into him. He starts squirming in his seat. Back on Tatooine, it would have been the other way around: you succumbing to his will, but now you’re the one with authority.

“Look,” He says, leaning in towards you. “I’m not gonna sit here and tell you how to do the job. I know you’re good at it.” There’s regret in his voice. It hasn’t gone unnoticed how he looks at you occasionally, almost like he’s ashamed of what he’s done to you. If it wasn’t for that day, you wouldn’t have turned out the way you have. You think he wants to take it all back. Wishing that you stayed some nobody who lived their life fixing and repairing shit.

“But I’m told you have a high bounty on your head. Maybe it’s best if you continue to lay low for a while. Just until the heat cools down.”

You chew on your bottom lip, and your body relaxes into the booth behind you. Deep down you know he’s right. He just wants for you to be safe and admittedly, the way you’ve been acting lately is as if you think you’re invincible. You chase the thrill and the danger but it’s just making everyday life so much harder. Some merchants are too scared to sell to you, locals steer clear of you, and those who aren’t scared get too confident and try to pick fights with you. Despite your size, you’re able to carry your own surprisingly well during a fight. You don’t quite understand it yourself. Each time you’ve had to defend yourself, there was an energy you conjured that came from deep inside you that helped you manipulate your opponent. This energy allowed you to levitate objects or people in mid-air, assisted you to kill them without ever touching them, or even influence them to say and do what you wanted them to.

It was after a late night of sabacc. You were on your way back to your ship when three male figures blocked your path in a nearby alley. Three blasters pointed directly at you.

“Can’t let you pass, sweetheart.” One of them sneered.

Bounty hunters.

One hand slowly glided to the blaster strapped to your upper thigh, the other extending in front of you. “Okay, fellas. I’m sure we can make a deal here.”

“Don’t try that shit with us. You couldn’t possibly come close to the price the Republic is offering.” The man in the middle—a Twi’ you realize, warned.

“The bounty asks to bring you in alive, so let’s not compromise that, okay sweetheart?”

Adrenaline and wrath were starting to seep into your muscles. If there’s one thing you hated, it was chauvinistic men calling you ‘sweetheart’.

“Call me sweetheart again, and it’ll be the last thing you ever say.”

All three men’s cackle echoed through the stone walls.

“I’d hate to ruin a pretty hair on that head, but if you’re going to act like a little bitch then maybe—”

Cutting him off, one of their blasters wiggled out of their reach and smacked the first hunter right in the face before he could finish his threat, blood spraying from his mouth. Your blaster found its way into your hand, raising it to strike him straight in the chest. Simultaneously, your left hand targeted the second assailant’s throat, your hands violently gripping around the pressure of his neck. The hunter attempted to scream, his hands wrapping around his throat as your grip tightened. Fire consumed you, and as your grip on the man’s throat intensified, his body started to lift off the ground. The Twi’ eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets; horror plastered on his face.

“What the fuck are you?!” The Twi’s voice bellowed, spitting as he charged at you, a vibroblade in each hand. Your eyes shifted to him coming right at you with pure fury in his eyes.

“Come here, you little bitch!” He roared.

You let your hold of his partner relax slightly, then your arm swung to the right, forcing the hunter to lift completely off the ground. Once he became jelly in your grasp, you launch him towards the Twi. Both men slammed into the concrete wall next to them. You heard the sound of skull making contact with the cement, then watched them fall to the ground hard. The Twi cried out, “Please don’t!” but you blasted him right between the eyes before he could say anything else.

You stood there, chest heaving. Your eyes examined the men in front of you, not fully understanding how you were able to fight them off. You were outnumbered and they were much larger than you were. Holding out your hands, you stared down at your palms. Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to focus on the power that expelled from your fingertips. Where did it come from? How do you control it? What was happening to you?

You had never felt such power before. For a moment, you were no longer in control of your movements. In that split second where you gave into that rage, it bended you to its will, driving you to do cause more harm than necessary. This voice inside of you wanted them to hurt, for them to suffer, and you couldn’t resist it.

Tye repeatedly calling you brings you back to the present. “You okay?”

Shaking your head, the corner of your mouth curls into a smile. “Fine.”

The rest of the evening is much more lighthearted. After the initial awkward tension between the two of you, you’re able to enjoy a couple drinks of spotchka and reminisce about old times. You’ve definitely missed his company. Tye is the closest thing you have to family and you cherish him deeply. Your energies mesh together so well, and you have to admit, sometimes you daydream about settling down together, living on a quiet planet and drinking spotchka for the rest of your days until you’re finally arrested. Those are quickly replaced by reality, because the reality is, it’s just not attainable anymore.

The cantina never empties, no matter what time of day it is, and given that there aren’t any windows, you have no clue as to what time it is anymore. You came in just as the sun was setting—what little sun is even offered on Kijimi. It’s easily been a couple hours since then, and you begin to feel the fatigue creeping up on you.

“Where are you staying?” You ask, stretching your arms and your back as much as you can in the booth.

“I have a place not too far from here. It’s tiny, but it’s not like I spend enough time on this planet to need anything bigger. You can stay with me for the night, if you want?”

“That’s okay,” You start to say, shaking your head. “I’m probably going to leave first thing in the morning anyway. I don’t like to linger.”

Tye’s head bobs a few times. “Sure. I have a couple things I need to take care of here before I can leave.”

You cock your head to the left. What could he possibly have to do? You don’t ask though. It’s a common thing for smugglers not to ask questions. Staying in the dark about your crew’s whereabouts and jobs make it easy not to catch too many folks in the same squad. It’s how smugglers have been able to evade capture. If one person is snatched in a team, it’s almost impossible to catch another because chances are, they have no idea what anyone else is up to.

“I should probably head back to my ship then,”

After announcing your leave, you both shimmy out of the booth and rise to your feet. Tye is the first to move into your body and wrap his biceps around your entire torso. Quickly, your arms find their way around his back and you allow yourself to sink into his body. You’ve missed the warmth of another person. For a second, you allow yourself to be vulnerable and really appreciate the physical intimacy. Tye’s the one who finally breaks the embrace, but he keeps you at arm’s length, both hands squeezing your shoulders. Yours drop at your sides and you can’t stop the grin that forms on your lips.

“Sometimes I can hardly believe we used to be a bunch of nobodies on Tatooine,” He says. Before you can come up with a snarky remark, he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Bye, kiddo.” Slapping some credits on the table, he turns on his heel and heads to the door. “You’re not even a year older!” You shout, and you’re not entirely sure he hears you given the amount of noise in the cantina, but you see his shoulders bounce, so you assume he heard you. You linger for a couple minutes, finishing off the remaining spotchka on the table. Once you’ve downed the final drop, you thank the bartender for their kind service, toss them some coins and head out the door.

It’s in the late hours when the cold Kijimi winds hit your face. The freezing air is a drastic change from the heat of the cantina and the cold immediately sends chills down your spine. Pulling your hood over your head, you cross your arms across your chest, trying to conserve a little bit of heat. The streets are dimly lit and dirty with mud and snow. It’s a long, dangerous trek back to your ship, so you keep your head down but still keeping an eye out for any potential mercenary or hunter who might want that pretty bounty on your head. Keeping your hand close to the blaster strapped to your thigh, you dart through stone made arches, and small huts. Instead of taking the straight route, you opt to zig-zag through the city, knowing it would be more difficult to track your footsteps this way. It takes more time, but you know this is the safer way to go.

The cold is starting to really get to you, now. Despite wearing gloves, the tips of your fingers are starting to go numb and you thank the Maker once you catch a glimpse of your ship not too far into the distance. You fight the urge to walk straight towards it, instead listening to your gut. You come to an alley, lit only by a small streetlight that’s flickering slowly.

“I can’t wait to get off this shithole of a planet,” You whisper to yourself.

Just as you turn the corner of the alley, you suddenly feel a presence behind you. The adrenaline pumps through your veins, causing your heart to pulse quicker than you’ve felt in a long time. Any sound person would be afraid, knowing they were in for a bout, but not you. No, you chase this feeling on your runs. This is when you thrive.

You stand tall, straightening your shoulders and slowly turn to where you assume the figure is behind you. At the end of the alley, you see the shape of a man—what you think is a man, anyway. The light bounces off the blob in front of you, and realize they’re covered almost head-to-toe in shiny armor. A droid?

“Can I help you?” You question. Your hand rests directly over your blaster, slowly flicking the safety off.

The mystery man/droid doesn’t say anything. He stands completely still, and for the first time in a long time, panic prods at you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you take a deep breath, hoping it’ll calm the nerves in your stomach.

“Can I help you?” You say through gritted teeth.

Again, you hear nothing.

You stand your ground, refusing to run from the figure. You’ve never been one to run from a fight, and you’re not about to start now. “I’m going to give you one more chance to tell me who the hell you are before I blast you on your ass.” Your voice is stern, now becoming more annoyed with the fact that they haven’t said anything. What the hell is this thing’s problem?

The figured dressed in armor takes a small step forward and finally speaks. “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold,” His voice comes out low, but is nothing short of terrifying.

You suddenly realize who stands fifteen feet in front of you. It’s him. The hunter who’s created quite the name for himself. The bounty hunter who almost every smuggler has grown to fear. The one who never lets a bounty get away.

The Mandalorian.

As much as you are terrified right now, you can’t help but let a little bit of pride consume you. For the New Republic to have him come after you, it means they’ve gotten desperate. It also means they see you as a threat, and that makes you feel good. So good in fact, that you accidentally let a chuckle escape you.

“How much are they paying you?”

No answer.

You know he’s going to blast you any moment, and you’re trying to buy yourself some time.

“Oh come on. If I’m gonna go down, I should at least know how much I’m worth, don’t you think?”

Your ship is a quick sprint away (if you go straight ahead) but you’re not stupid enough to do that. He’s probably none the wiser and thinks you would, so you have that advantage. Instead, you know running to your left is the safer option. Even though there’s no actual street to your left, you did notice a split in the foundation just big enough for your body to slide through and make it to the next adjacent path, but you’ll need to do it quick. You gauge your assailant’s body language. He’s standing with his legs shoulder-width apart and you think you see his hand resting on his blaster, but you can’t be sure. You do catch the shadow of a rifle strapped to his back, and you know that that armor looks expensive which means it’s probably beskar, which unfortunately for you is basically indestructible. No amount of blasts will penetrate that armor.

Thinking impulsively, you grab the blaster out of your holster and shoot the light, hoping he’ll struggle to find your shape in the dark and praying to the Maker that it’ll give you enough time to wiggle through the stone walls. You sprint for the wall and see blaster fire shoot passed your head. Fuck, he must have night-vision with that helmet.

You manage to squeeze through the crack and end up on the other side. Most likely he’d come by the right, so you avoid that side entirely. Breaking into a sprint, you run down the cobblestoned road. It’s horribly uneven and you trip a few times, but always manage to recover without actually falling. The air cuts at your face and makes it harder to breathe but you persevere. If you were to stop, even for a moment, you risk getting caught. Your mind is running a million miles a minute, trying not to look back but also trying to imagine the more tactical way to capture you. Before you can think of your next move, the door to a hut opens and someone seizes your left arm and pulls you into the house with such force, it almost feels like your arm was ripped right out of its socket. The door shuts behind you immediately but before you can make a sound, Tye’s hand comes to cover your mind.

“Shh,” he warns, pressing a finger from his free hand to his lips.

You nod and he releases the grip he had over your mouth.

Tye crouches near the window by the door, checking to see if the hunter is out there.

“I can’t see him,” He says, turning his gaze towards you. You move from the doorway and crouch next to him by the window. Both of you continue to scan the street, looking for any sign of the attacker.

After a few minutes of looking with no luck, you conclude that he’s lost you. You retreat from the window to examine the room. It’s tiny, the bed almost immediately to your left and you wonder how anyone could possibly sleep there. The door is just a few feet away and you can assume the cold penetrates the door easily enough. Sleeping there must be miserable. The only source of light emanates from a few candles scattered throughout the room.

“This is my place,” Tye explains before you can ask. “It’s not much but it’s better than sleeping in one of the taverns.” He passes you and lowers himself in an armchair, rubbing the palms of his hands against his face.

“How did you know?”

“Call it intuition.”

The adrenaline is slowly wearing off and now you feel an ache in your bicep. You look down and notice a section of your coat has been ripped right off. Then you notice blood, a lot of it.

“Maker!” Tye all but jumps right out of his seat and rushes to your side. Gently grabbing your elbow, he inspects your wound. It’s pretty deep and will need to be cauterized.

Realizing it at the same time, your eyes meet. “Just do it.” You whisper to break the silence.

“I can use bacta spray instead. It’ll hurt less,” He says, before turning towards the cupboards, rummaging through the shelves and tossing whatever he can find, on the ground. You carefully remove your coat without touching the gash on your arm.

“Bacta spray will hard to find at this hour,” Your voice is barely above a whisper. The pain is starting to disorient you, and you manage to sit down on the bed before collapsing. “Just do it, Tye.”

Your friend stops searching for the spray, and he’s quickly by your side again with a clean cloth. He begins wiping the blood away. It stings and you swear under your breath.

“If you think this hurts…” His voice trails off. Yeah, you both know cauterizing it will hurt even more.

Trying to lighten the tension, you force a laugh. “Don’t worry. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

It’s true. You’ve broken bones and you’ve been hit a lot worse. If you ever manage to successfully make a run without injuring yourself, it’s a miracle. This is nothing new.

Tye leaves your side to warm up his vibroblade on one of the candles nearby. Once the blade is steaming, he returns to you. He holds out the blade, and you take it from his hand. Releasing a deep breath, you hold the blade to your arm and press it into your flesh. It sizzles and smells awful. Tye squeezes his eyes shut, like he thinks it’ll stop the whole ordeal. You stifle down the scream that desperately tries to come to the surface, and groan instead. Pressing the blade to your skin in short bursts, the blood slowly stops spewing and the pain from the actual blast begins to subside. Once the sting begins to slow, you drop the blade on the ground. Tye’s eyebrows relax as he inspects your skin.

“You should still put some bacta spray on that, to avoid getting it infected.”

Nodding slowly, you let out another deep breath through your lips. “I have some on my ship. I’ll head out in the morning and hopefully get to it before metal man out there can get me.” You try to be lighthearted with a joke. Tye either doesn’t catch it or think it’s funny because he’s shaking his head at you. He meets your eyes and whispers your name. “Having a Mandalorian after you is serious business. Those guys don’t fuck around.”

You sit up straight and look at his defensively. “Yeah, I know Tye.”

“Do you? Because you’re still making jokes. Do you know that Mandalorians are like the best killers in the galaxy?”

That sends daggers through your entire body. You rise to your feet, slowly until you’re almost towering over him. “I’m well aware of their abilities, Tye.”

“Why do I get the feeling that this is just a giant ego boost for you?”

That you actually scoff at. “Kriff…” Taking a step away from him, your hands rest on your hips. “Am I a little proud that they had to get a Mandalorian to arrest me? Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to act reckless and change my tacti-“

“But you are reckless!” Tye pushes against his knees to stand eye level with you. “You always do this. This is why no one wants to work with you!”

Your eyes widen, mouth dropping. “I don’t want to work with anyone because they slow me down!”

Immediately, your friend’s shaking his head. “No, that’s not why. Everyone’s deemed you too dangerous to actually work with. It’s a miracle you haven’t been caught yet.”

You try to interject but Tye holds a hand up to stop you. “I’m not done. Yeah, you’re good at smuggling, probably one of the best, but at what cost? Where’s the girl that was gentle, kind? Where’s that girl who would fix ships with her dad and play in the sand dunes with me? That girl who nursed an injured womp rat back to health because you saw some stupid kids shoot at it? Where did my best friend go?”

The laugh that erupts in the room is anything but joyful. It’s resentful, it’s anger. Your best friend stands inches away from your face, insulting who you are. Who he essentially created.

“She grew up, Tye! My parents died and left me all alone on a planet that shouldn’t even exist. I had no choice. You think a ‘gentle, kind’ girl can survive in this galaxy?”

Tye’s fists ball up at his sides. “I miss that girl. Who you are now, it’s not who I remember. This job has tainted you.”

“Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you dragged me into this world five years ago!”

“Don’t do that…” His shoulders drop, his head hanging in defeat.

“I love you Tye, but I can take care of myself. I’m not scared of some Mandalorian. I’m not afraid of anything.” A lie, but you refuse to look weak.

“I know…” He admits, his head still looking at the ground. “That’s the problem.”

A few moments pass in silence. Neither of you try to break the apprehension in the air. You can sense that Tye’s been waiting a long time to admit that. That he doesn’t like what you’ve become, and maybe he’s right. Maybe you do act impulsively, maybe you do put yourself at risk unnecessarily just to fill this void inside of you. A void that’s been eating at you since you were a child, but it’s not something you want to hear right now, or maybe ever.

“I’m heading to my ship.” Grabbing your coat off the cot, you slip into it, groaning as the material slides against your sensitive flesh.

That appears to snap Tye out of his thoughts because he looks right into your eyes.

“Please don’t. He’s probably still out there.”

“Well it’s like you said,” Usually, your voice is soft. You’ve never spoken to Tye with such anger before, but something inside of you now sees him in a different light. You resent him. “I’m too reckless.” You growl.

Tye mouth is agape and it almost looks like tears are forming in the corners of his eyes. He takes a step back like he’s been stabbed, which I guess is true. Your tone said it all.

You both realize at the same time that this is probably the last time you’ll see each other.

Turning on your heel, you head towards the door. “Take care, Tye.” You say over your shoulder before pressing the button to open the entrance. It lifts off the ground and you step out, not even looking at your surroundings before throwing the hood back over your head and heading straight for your ship.

If you want me, come get me, Mandalorian.

You’re not careful about the walk to the ship. You’re not careful passing corners or getting to the port. You’re behaving stupidly on purpose. You want to fight him; you want to prove to everyone and yourself that not even a Mandalorian can catch you. It’s extremely naïve but your blood’s boiling and its currently clouding your judgement. You spot your ship and march towards it, without a damn care in the world. Clicking the button on your bracelet, the ramp opens, and you begin to walk towards the slope. Once your foot touches the metal, you catch a glimpse of something shiny at the very top of the ramp. A sly smile creeps on your lips.

“You know, it’s rude to hijack someone’s ship.” You peer up at him.

The Mandalorian’s tense, with his hand hovering over the blaster strapped to his right thigh. Legs once again spread shoulder width apart, he oozes authority. The metal—beskar, glistening against the moonlight. You fight the submissiveness that begins to creep up on you. You refuse to show him weakness. If you’re gonna get caught, you’re gonna make sure you put up a fight.

Your strides up the ramp get smaller and smaller. Adrenaline fully pumping now through your entire body. You wonder how close he’ll let you get to him before blasting you right off your feet.

“I do have to admit, getting caught by a mandalorian is pretty admirable.” You taunt.

His hand gets closer to the blaster and you think this is your moment. Just as he rips the blaster from its holster and fires at you, your right hand comes up, catching the blast mid-air and deflecting it. It hits one of the cargo boxes and explodes. Before he can fire another shot, the blaster is ripped right out of his hand and goes flying into your palm. As soon as you get both blasters in your hands, a grappling line exits his vambrace and wraps tightly around your ankles, causing you to slightly lose your balance. He pulls hard on the rope and it sends you flying backwards. Your head hits the metal hard, and for a second your vision begins to fog. You blink repeatedly, trying to get your damn vision to clear, but before you can even begin to push yourself to the ground, the Mandalorian is hovering over your body. One leg on each side of your thighs, he leans down and grasps both your wrists with one hand and straps some binds around them. You give it one last ditch effort and try to kick up at him, but his reflexes are surprisingly quick and catches your calf with his free hand.

“Maybe if you stayed with your friend, you might’ve gotten away without me catching you.” He says through the helmet. The baritone of his voice immediately causes your breathing to hitch. Your heart is pounding in your chest and heat begins to form in your stomach.

“Then again,” He begins to say, pulling you to your feet. “because you’re so careless, I’d find you again.”

In any other circumstance, you’d have a sly comment, but right now you can’t even remember how to speak. Once on your feet, you notice just how big he actually is. Sure, the armor might add to his demeanor, but you can’t help but be intimidated now. He towers over you, and you have to strain your neck just to look at him. You try to see his eyes through the ‘T’ of his visor, but it’s too tinted. He loops his forearm around your bound arms and guides you down the ramp.

“I can walk on my own, you know?”

The Mandalorian doesn’t answer. He simply continues to drag you whichever way he wants. As you make your way to his ship, your heart is still hammering in your chest. The way he carries himself, you’ve never seen anything like it. He’s definitely intense, but nothing short of fucking mesmerizing. Most of the hunters you’ve encountered were cruel and mouthy. But the Mandalorian? He barely spoke to you; he didn’t let his any emotion come through. You can outtalk any hunter, but you couldn’t do that with him. He was one step ahead of you, which you have to admit has never happened before.

Once you reach what you assume is his ship, you can’t help but be taken aback by it.

“Whoa, is that a pre-Empire ship? I didn’t think those things still existed.”

He says nothing, as per usual. In the very short time you’ve known the Mandalorian, you noticed he’s a man of few words.

You’ve spent your whole life around ships, but you’ve never seen one quite like this. It’s pretty dated and looks in pretty shit condition, honestly. Several panels are completely dented, and whatever isn’t dented is scratched up badly. You can tell it’s been in a good number of shootouts. It’s a miracle this ship is still operational.

He presses a button on his vambrace, and the ramp opens up, creaking as it lowers to the ground. The Mandalorian lets go of the grip he had on you, and gently pushes you in front of him, instructing you to walk ahead of him. You head up the ship, turning back to look over your shoulder one more time. In that moment, reality hits you. You’ve been caught. You’re going to live the rest of your days in a cell. Actually, with your reputation, you’d be lucky if you get a cell. The New Republic will probably have you sentenced to death. While you didn’t expect to live to an old age, you didn’t think you’d die this young, but it comes with the job description. Everyone’s gonna get it sooner or later, and unfortunately for you, it seems like the former.

You take notice of the three other quarries in carbonite to your right. Heating beating so fast, you’re sure it’ll burst out of your chest, you start babbling.

“Please don’t put me in carbonite,” You plead, turning around to face your captor. He’s already closed the ramp and is busy removing the rifle off his back, placing it back on the wall of the ship. “You already have me in binds, I can’t go anywhere. I won’t cause any more trouble. Just please, no carbonite.”

At first, he doesn’t bother to look at you. He lingers there for a few seconds, probably arguing with himself on the best way to handle you. Your eyes burn into his helmet, praying to the Maker that he’ll give into you. You’re chewing down on your bottom lip so hard, you’re sure you’ll break skin. Eventually, he turns to face you and begins a slow, tantalizing walk towards you. Panic overwhelms you, and you begin to shake your head frantically. Since when did you become such a submissive? Under any other circumstance, you’d be throwing insults, trying to get under his skin, manipulating words in an effort to aggravate them. You might even try to manipulate him into doing what you ask but your brain is shut off. You can barely form a coherent thought. Therefore, you resort to begging and pleading with the Mandalorian.

You can’t stop your body from trembling, and as he reaches to grab your wrist, you shudder at his touch. You swear his glove is on fire because how the hell is it possible that his touch burns into your skin? You keep your head down, not having the strength to meet his visor. You’re crumbling under him, letting him take absolute control of you.

“Up,” is all he says, as he gestures you to the ladder that goes up to the cockpit. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nod and let him guide you to the ladder. It’s hard to climb with your hands bound but you do your best.

Once you reach the top, you wait for him to catch up. Putting a hand on your lower back, your breathing hitches when he touches you. His hand nearly cover your entire waist and you can’t help but imagine that thick hand wrapped around your throat.

Maker this shouldn’t be turning you on. He captured you.

He guides you into the seat that’s to the right of the pilot, and then sits himself in the pilot’s seat. He begins the take-off sequence, and the ship’s thrusters roar to life. As the ship lifts off the ground, it creaks and makes you shift in your seat. You take one last look at Kijimi as his ship climbs higher and higher into the air, realizing that for the first time ever, you lost.

#the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #din djarin #Star Wars #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x you #we are one when together #fics

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there-must-be-a-lock · 4 years ago

Text

Three (Bad Ideas) - Part 3 of 3

Jared x Jensen ( x Reader, but mostly J2)

Word Count: ~6720

Warnings: The most explicit guy-on-guy scene I’ve written so far in this series, I think. Rom-com-style miscommunication shenanigans, excessive fluff, bossy!Jensen and his dirty dirty mouth, Jared’s exhibitionist tendencies, polyamory negotiations, anxiety and the way it can fuck with relationships, no seriously so much fluff, boys being idiots, boys in a non-figurative closet, boys in love, boys in bed, and more fucking fluff.

A/N: I cannot believe I finally finished this, holy shit. Credit to @fangirlxwritesx67! Most of this series wouldn’t exist without her neverending J2 gif spams.

Catch up here: Part 1 / Part 2

This is the prequel to the original Everything story, which you can only read on Amazon these days; it actually overlaps a bit, and retells a few scenes from Jared’s POV, but this fic stands on its own. The original is thoroughly plotless, tbh. It’s like 18k of pure smut. Read it over here if you’re interested. More standalones/headcanons/ficlets in this ‘verse can be found here.

“Come on,” Jared pants, “Hurry up already.”

“Somebody’s fuckin demanding,” Jensen growls.

“Please, just — fuck, so close, come on.” He tries to buck forward but Jensen’s got him pinned, shoving him against the wall of the dark, cramped little closet while his hand moves in a maddeningly even rhythm, working him with long rough perfect strokes.

“Door’s not locked. If you don’t keep your voice down somebody’s gonna walk right in.”

He twists his wrist just right, and Jared groans, slumping back against the wall, trying not to let his knees buckle.

“Please,” he says again.

“Is that what you want? You want someone to walk in?”

“Shit, come on, stop teasing.”

“What would you do if she walked in?” Jensen says, practically purring, his voice deep and suggestive in the dark, close air. “God, I bet you’d love that.”

Jared wants to protest, but the image of it, the thought of her opening that door, thrills him like a thousand fucking volts. He whimpers, and Jensen just laughs. The guilt hits a split-second later.

“I wouldn’t stop, either,” Jensen continues. “I’d let her hear you begging, let her watch while I make you come...”

Jared’s so close he can barely breathe. He can feel it, building everywhere, from his toes and his fingers, up through his spine, coiling tight and hot and —

“So fuckin’ dirty, admit it, you want her to see you come all over yourself. Think she’d lick it off my fingers when you’re done?”

“Asshole,” Jared gasps, and his cheeks are burning but he can’t help it, he’s imagining her face and then his hips are jerking forward as he comes, so bright and sharp in his gut that he’s doubling over, clutching at the back of Jensen’s shirt and trying to stifle a shout.

Jared’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop, if he’s being honest with himself. Everything has gone so smoothly with them. It’s been over a year, and he’s still convinced he’s going to fuck this up; it can’t possibly be this easy.

Jared’s pretty sure the shoe hit the ground today, when Jensen mentioned someone else and Jared just — well. That.

Jensen has a territorial streak a mile wide. He’s quick to move in when he feels like someone’s too close to Jared, asserting himself with a hand on the back of Jared’s neck, fingers in his hair, something quietly possessive. Dirty talk is one thing; the way Jared reacted to it must have been more than enough to set off a red alert in that jealous corner of Jensen’s brain.

He’s already steeling himself as Jensen slides into the bed, turns the light off, and spoons up behind him to kiss the curve of his neck.

“We gonna talk about that?” Jensen murmurs. Jensen doesn’t sound mad, but he’s a good fucking actor.

“I don’t know what you’re—”

“Don’t.” His huff of a laugh tickles Jared’s neck.

Jared’s not sure what the fuck is wrong with him, because he finally has what he’s wanted for so many years, finally, and he’s so ridiculously, breathtakingly, head-over-heels in love with Jensen that he can barely see straight sometimes. It’s hard to take his eyes off Jensen, and it definitely gets in the way of things like eating or sleeping or remembering his lines, and so it’s kind of amazing to him that his brain even has space to notice another person, but… he notices her. He can’t help it.

Jensen slides a palm over his hip, tracing the shape of bone and muscle with the tips of his fingers and then dipping down to cup his cock.

Fuck.

Jared tries to ignore the feeling that he’s walking into a trap, somehow.

“It was hot,” he admits softly.

“Fuckin’ right it was,” Jensen says, low and suggestive against his ear. “Ever thought about that? Somebody watching?”

He’s getting hard embarrassingly fast and he knows Jensen can feel it. Jared squirms back against him. For a second it’s easy to forget what they were talking about, and by the time he remembers, he doesn’t particularly care any more.

“Can you—” he breathes, and Jensen nips the round of his shoulder before rolling away for a second. When he comes back, there’s the click of a bottle opening and closing, and then Jensen’s teasing with one slick finger, grazing sensitive skin in little circles until Jared’s gritting his teeth against the urge to beg.

“You never answered my question,” Jensen whispers. One finger sinks in slow, and Jared shudders.

Right. That.

“It’s not a thing or whatever. I was close, and your voice — you could recite a grocery list in that fucking voice and I’d get hard.”

“Oh yeah?”

Jared can hear the smirk.

“It was just… in the moment,” he insists. “I’d never — hearing you talk about it was hot, but... I’ve never — not seriously.” He’s glad Jensen can’t see the way he blushes.

The second finger feels like a stretch, a burn that streaks up his spine and dissolves quickly into sparks, discomfort easing into a wash of pleasure.

“But you like talking about it,” Jensen rasps, and for a second Jared has no fucking idea what they were just saying. Jensen curls his fingers just right and white fireworks dance behind Jared’s eyelids.

“Maybe,” he gasps. He tries to brace himself against the mattress, pushing back, arching shamelessly. Jensen kisses the nape of his neck, dragging an open-mouthed kiss down the knobs of Jared’s spine.

“So let’s talk about it,” Jensen says, lips still touching, smearing the words across his skin. He kisses the curve of his neck, bites it, a bright grounding point of sensation as he pulls his hand away.

“More?” Jared whispers, just as Jensen’s fingers slide in again, three this time, slow, overwhelming.

There’s a prickle of heat all over his skin. Jared focuses on breathing. Jensen matches him so that they’re inhaling and exhaling in sync, and it’s deafening in the dark, silent, still room.

Jensen’s fingers fuck him open slowly, twisting, brushing up against the spot that makes Jared whimper, again and again and —

“Was it because you imagined somebody walking it? Or because you imagined her walking in?” Jensen asks.

Jared goes cold all over for a second, cold and then fever-hot again as pure panic zings up his spine. He can’t answer, but it doesn’t matter; if Jensen’s asking that question, it’s because he already knows the answer.

He bites back a whimper, torn between shame and arousal. He’s frozen.

“Whoa, no,” Jensen says, obviously alarmed. “That’s not — Jesus, I’m sorry, I would never — I don’t care.” He pulls his fingers away and curls himself around Jared, kissing the hollow behind Jared’s ear, making soft shushing sounds, crooning reassurances until Jared starts to relax. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Okay? Why would you even think that?”

Jared knows him, knows how he sounds when he’s angry, knows that this isn’t that, and he’s not really sure why he panicked, now; Jensen wouldn’t set him up like that. He just wouldn’t.

It’s Jared’s own fault, anxiety and guilt and relentless fucking insecurities. He should know better.

“Sorry,” is all he can manage, in a rough strangled voice. He doesn’t know what to do with the leftover adrenaline fizzing in his veins.

“Hey, listen to me,” Jensen whispers, with just enough steel in his tone that Jared can’t help but pay attention. “I just —I don’t care who you’re attracted to, because… you love me, right?”

“Of course. Why would you even—”

“So it doesn’t matter who you’re thinking about, because you’re still mine. Right?”

“Right,” Jared mumbles. He’s still not entirely sure why Jensen brought her up in the first place, if not out of jealousy, but Jensen’s fingers are sliding in again, thick knuckles opening him up. It’s distracting.

“If I was there too — if it was something we could do together — ” Jensen says, hesitant. “I wouldn’t mind sharing you.”

“Oh,” Jared breathes.

This is so not how he expected this conversation to go.

“If I was telling you what to do…” Jared groans, ragged and drawn-out, and Jensen lets out a shaky exhale before he continues: “You’re so good for me. So good at doing what you’re told.”

“Holy shit.”

Before Jensen, Jared would’ve considered himself thoroughly fucking vanilla, but Jensen has this way of pushing buttons that Jared never knew existed. Inventing new buttons, maybe. They’re, like, Jensen-specific buttons, and fuck, Jared’s not making sense even to himself, and he’s about to lose his goddamn mind here.

“On your stomach,” Jensen orders. He urges Jared forward and moves with him, sliding on top of him, hot soft skin and sinewy strength blanketing him and grounding him and holding him in place.

“Come on, just—.”

The words turn into a sigh as Jensen sinks into him. He grabs Jared’s wrists, squeezing almost too tight, pinning him down. He rocks his hips, pushing in deeper, inch by inch, until Jared’s shaking and full and so tense he feels like he’s vibrating.

“So good,” Jensen croons again. “I should show you off, let everybody see how well trained you are… is that what you want?”

Jared twitches under him, hips jerking, fingers flexing, uncoordinated and involuntary.

“Yeah. Yes. Fuck.”

He’s never imagined anything like that in his life, but the image sears itself into his brain, and he knows he’ll be thinking about that for a long goddamn time. His cock is uncomfortably hard, trapped between his stomach and the mattress, and every thrust has him rubbing against the sheets, too rough and nowhere near enough.

Jensen grinds in with this long undulating snaky movement that drags like a match being struck, and the friction ignites inside him, sparkling hot. He tries to muffle the raw ugly cry in the back of his throat by pressing his face down into the mattress. A few more of those rolling sinuous thrusts and Jared’s burning up, not really sure if those are words coming out of his mouth or just nonsense, but he thinks he’s begging, stuttering out curses and pleas.

“I’ve imagined the two of you together,” Jensen says, gravelly and shredded. “What you’d look like… what I’d tell you to do to her.”

“Fuck,” Jared slurs, and tries to bite down on the sheet. He’s so close, too close, just needs something —

Then Jensen slides a hand from Jared’s wrist to his hair, and he grabs, twists, forces Jared’s head to one side so that the next wild sound rings out loud.

“Mine,” he growls, close and hot and everywhere. He fucks in deep, pulls Jared’s hair hard, and that sting is exactly the catalyst Jared needed; he lets go, goes under, with Jensen repeating it like an echo: “Mine.”

“We can protect you,” Sam declares.

“It’s not your job to take care of me,” she says defiantly.

“I want to help. I can—”

“Because you don’t have enough to deal with?” she scoffs, but she’s blinking back tears. “What about you?”

Sam shrugs. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I can’t. I’d rather have you safe than—”

She practically throws herself at him, hugging him so hard it knocks the air out of his lungs, and Sam closes his eyes, holding her tight.

“Cut!” Rich yells.

For a moment, Jared’s frozen, caught in the scene, and he has to forcefully wrench himself back out. Her arms are still wrapped around him, her face buried in his chest, and he can feel the way she inhales, shaky, before pulling away.

“You okay?” he asks. His voice cracks. She gives him a watery smile.

“That was… wow,” Rich says, grinning from ear to ear. “Nailed it. That’s a wrap for today. Get some rest, you deserve it.”

Jared’s stuck in Sam’s skin, and it sucks. He’s never been good at keeping his own emotions neat and tidy; add Sam’s weight-of-the-world mess on top of that, and he’s a wreck.

Jared looks around automatically for Jensen, but Jensen’s been in production meetings all day, doing important director things. He texts instead:

Done soon? Duckin weird heavy day

Meant fuckin obv, no ducks involved

Ugh miss you

He heads back to his chair and starts gathering up his stuff, and she comes up next to him without a word, slipping an arm around his waist and giving him a sideways squeeze. He sighs and turns into it, bundling her up in his arms, softer and sweeter than the hug their characters just shared. She doesn’t let go, and after a moment he can feel the tension starting to drain away. He still doesn’t feel like him, not quite re-settled in his own skin, but… it’s getting better.

He kisses the top of her head, getting a whiff of the unmistakable scent of her shampoo, or whatever that fruity shit is that Jared has come to know as her smell.

“Walk over to wardrobe with me?” he asks.

“I need a minute,” she says, the words muffled in flannel. He hates the tremor in her voice. “Before I have to walk through all the chaos. Y’know?”

“Yeah. Want to just… sit with me, for a sec?”

She scoots her chair over to face his, close enough that their knees are touching. For a second she just looks at him, like she’s about to ask if he’s okay and does he want to talk about it, but the answer is a resounding no and she must read that on his face.

Jared’s always had that problem; everything he feels shows on his face. The only reason he managed to hide his feelings for Jensen for so long is that he never even acknowledged them to himself. He fidgets uncomfortably, self-conscious, and makes himself stop messing with his hair. He doesn’t really want to know what she’s seeing as she looks at him.

She grabs his hands and holds them, palm to palm, and it takes Jared a minute to catch on; she’s playing that stupid game where she’s trying to slap the tops of his hands before he can pull them away.

“I haven’t done this since middle school,” he says, flustered, trying to focus. “Dork.”

“Gotcha!”

He tries and fails an embarrassing number of times to get her back.

“No fair. My hands are like five times the size of yours, they make a bigger target,” he protests.

She giggles. “It’s true, you’ve got the bigass moose hands.”

She takes one of his hands in both of hers, laying it palm-up and leaning in closely to inspect it. Jared smells that fruity sweet scent again, and he has to fight the urge to run his fingers through her hair.

“Can you read palms?” he asks.

“Mmmhmm.” She frowns down at his hand.

“What?”

“See this super faint line right here?” She traces one with the very tip of her finger; it tickles.

Jared shivers. He’s paying attention to the feel of her soft hands more than her words, but he nods and says, “Yeah.”

“That’s your grace line. The way it’s all fragmented and faint means you’re clumsy as fuck.”

“Huh.”

“This one around your middle finger is the ring of the bird. Means you’re really bad at staying angry. This one is the line of the doofus, means—”

“Wait a second,” Jared says, laughing as the words sink in. “You’re so full of shit. I’ll give you a ring of the bird.”

He shoves his middle finger right up in her face and uses it to poke her forehead, and she giggles, swatting his hand away. It devolves rapidly into a sort of childish slap fight.

“Wow,” comes a low, teasing drawl, and Jared starts in his seat, turning to Jensen weirdly fast. He’s not sure why he feels like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. They weren’t doing anything wrong.

“Hey,” Jared says, breathless, and pushes his chair back awkwardly so that he’s not quite so close to her.

He expects jealousy, but Jensen’s not doing his usual steely jaw-clench-y thing. He looks uncertain, like he’s not even sure how he feels, but his smile is genuine and warm and crinkle-eyed.

“Feeling better?” he asks.

“Oh! Right. I’m… yeah, actually. I’m fine.” He’s stunned by how true it is.

“Thanks for that,” Jensen tells her quietly.

Jared frowns. “I don’t need someone to—”

“It was mutual,” she interrupts.

The sweet little half-smile on her face makes Jared forget his ruffled feathers. He looks between the two of them.

“Um… to wardrobe?” he asks Jensen.

Jensen nods and asks her, “You coming?”

She shrugs and gives Jensen another tentative smile, and they all fall into step. Jared can’t really accept how easy it feels, but he doesn’t want to question it, at least not now.

Jared’s used to the way Jensen shuts down sometimes, the way he curls into his shell when he’s anxious or stressed, but it feels different now that they’re together. They’ve been together for a fucking year. He feels like he should know how to deal with this.

For someone who’s remarkably direct in almost every part of his life, Jensen is a champion at stonewalling people when he really wants to; the more Jared pokes and prods, the higher the walls get. Jensen’s been edgy all day, and it’s bad enough that everyone has noticed. Jared’s pretty sure this is about him, so he’s determined to fix it; Jensen said he wasn’t threatened, but… yeah. It’s the only explanation, and it’s making Jared second-guess everything he says and does and fucking thinks, and he’s just pissing Jensen off more.

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help?” Jared asks.

“You can stop bouncing your knee like that, for starters,” Jensen grumbles. “And then you can stop asking me that fucking question.”

“Sorry.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Jensen insists stubbornly. “Okay? I just need some space.”

Jared sighs and knuckles at his eyes. This is fucking exhausting.

“Fine.”

Just as he’s about to stand up, there’s a loud knock on the trailer door.

“It’s open,” Jensen shouts reluctantly, already trying to control his own scowl. The door slams open.

“Hey,” she says cheerfully, juggling a large paper bag and a tray of coffee cups as she tries to shut the door behind herself.

“I got it,” Jared says, jumping up to help. She gives him a grateful smile and shoves the coffee tray at him. One of them has his name scrawled on the side. “Wait, really? For me?”

“Your favorite.”

“You’re my favorite,” he says, and immediately wants to smack himself in the forehead. “I mean—”

“S’okay, she’s my favorite right now too,” Jensen admits dryly.

“You mentioned wanting to try that new place, right?” She plops the bag down on the table and makes herself at home next to Jensen on the couch. Jared’s still standing awkwardly, hovering, not sure what to do with himself.

“The bakery?” Jensen asks. She caught him off-guard before he could fully put on his polite mask with the camera-ready smile. He doesn’t seem to know how to feel about that.

“Yeah! I got a little of everything, figured we should taste test.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Jensen protests. She just waves a macaron at him until he caves, biting it right out of her hand and making a deliriously happy noise.

“Don’t get me wrong, this was not a purely altruistic gesture,” she laughs, taking a bite of her own. “Plenty to go around.”

She offers one to Jared, but he shakes his head ruefully. “I was just about to go.”

Jensen glances up again, and something softens in his expression. His smile looks like an apology.

“Stay,” he says quietly. He holds up a mini lemon tart as a peace offering. Jared takes a bite, letting out an obscene moan that’s only kinda exaggerated, before taking a seat on Jensen’s other side.

“Okay, let’s get down to business,” she says, straight-faced as she gestures to the spread. “We have our work cut out for us.”

“With great power comes great responsibility,” Jensen deadpans. They dig in.

Jared’s still not entirely sure what just happened, but he doesn’t care as long as Jensen’s smiling.

By the time they’re down to the last few cookies, Jared’s sugar-high and over-caffeinated and happier than he’s been all week. He’s also starting to suspect that maybe he’s not the cause of Jensen’s mood after all.

Jared sucks a smudge of icing off his own thumb, and there’s a flicker of heat in Jensen’s eyes as he tracks the movement. Then he shakes his head like he’s laughing at himself.

“Be right back,” he tells them, and heads for the bathroom.

As soon as the door closes behind him, Jared turns to look at her, wide-eyed. Her smile falters.

“Is this okay? I know he’s been… off.”

“That’s a nice way of saying it,” Jared laughs.

“I wanted to see if I could cheer him up.” She looks self-conscious now, which was really not the point.

“You did. This is awesome, but — I’m just surprised he let you,” Jared admits. “I’ve known him for a long fucking time and there are still days… I don’t know.”

“Figured if I asked, he’d just say no, so… didn’t bother asking.” She shrugs like it’s nothing. “Sometimes it’s easier to get out of your head when you’re with someone you don’t know as well, right?”

There are about a million things Jared wants to say, but he hears the toilet flush, so he just whispers, “Thanks,” and hopes she knows how much he means it.

“Jesus, I’m stuffed,” Jensen says, flopping back down between them. He reaches for the last raspberry puff-thing anyway and eats it in one bite, making a goofy face that’s 100% Dean, and they both laugh. He swallows and wipes his mouth, somehow managing to leave a streak of confectioner’s sugar from the corner of his lips down to his jaw.

“You’ve got a—” Jared says, but he just leans in and licks it off.

Jensen angles his head for a real kiss. He’s smiling, and he tastes like raspberries, and Jared really doesn’t want to stop kissing him.

When they break apart, she looks away quickly enough to make it obvious that she was staring. Her cheeks go pink as she bites her lip.

“I’m gonna go,” she says, fumbling for her bag.

“Don’t,” Jared says. “Sorry, didn’t mean to go all PDA on you, just—”

She’s already heading for the door.

“Stay?” Jensen asks softly. He clearly means it, and that makes her pause.

“It’s almost time for me to be back on set anyway,” she says, still blushing. “I should—”

“If you’re sure, but… thank you,” Jensen says sincerely.

“Any time!”

She grins over her shoulder and then she’s gone before either of them can get up to hug her goodbye. Jared watches the door close behind her, disappointed, and he’s almost embarrassed to be caught staring until he realizes Jensen’s doing the same thing.

“She’s… yeah,” Jensen muses. “Of all the people you could be crushing on? I like her.”

Jared’s kinda mystified, because if that’s not what Jensen was upset about, he has no idea what the issue was, but he also feels a thousand pounds lighter.

“Love you,” he blurts out.

“Love you too,” Jensen says, pulling him in for another sugary kiss.

There are a few moments in the next couple days when Jared can see that black cloud hovering over Jensen’s head again, but they’re shooting his episode, so Jared writes it off as director-stress. Instead of worrying, Jared just tries to distract him, and he’s amazed by how well it works.

Of course, as soon as he’s stopped fixating on it, Jensen brings it up. All these years and it never occurred to Jared that avoiding the issue entirely would be the best way to get Jensen to talk about something he doesn’t want to fucking talk about.

“I’m sorry for being a dick this week,” he says bluntly, sitting down on the couch next to Jared and passing him a beer.

Jared laughs, still channel-surfing. “It’s fine. Honestly. At first I thought — I don’t know. Whatever. It’s fine.”

Jensen grabs the remote out of his hand and mutes the TV, and Jared shifts, curling a little closer so he can take in the abruptly serious expression on Jensen’s face.

“I got a call… there’s this developer who wants to buy my property,” Jensen says. “And they’re offering a lot of money, but —”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Jared asks. “You were gonna sell it eventually anyway, right?”

The tips of Jensen’s ears are pink.

“I wanted to look at my options, and… you know. Talk to you about it.”

Jared shrugs. “Okay. Will all your shit even fit in my house? Maybe we should get a storage unit.”

Jensen stares at him blankly for a second. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he asks, “Seriously? That’s it?”

“You’re talking about moving in, right?” Jared asks. “You’re always at my house anyway, it’s not — wait. Is that what you were stressing about?”

Jensen actually glares as Jared starts to laugh. Jared gestures vaguely around at the Vancouver apartment they’ve shared for fucking years, and eventually Jensen starts laughing too, burying his face in his palms. The back of his neck is flushed, and Jared can’t fucking believe him, or this, or… the whole situation, really.

Of all the absurd shit.

“It just felt like a big deal,” Jensen says sheepishly. “I thought… I didn’t want to assume, and I didn’t know how long I had to decide, and I wanted to go through all my options and have it all laid out for you, because I didn’t want you to think — I don’t fucking know. Jesus. Asking someone to move in with you is generally a big deal! I was just freaking out a little.”

“You pulled a me, in other words?” Jared asks, laughing again. Jensen jokingly tries to push him away and Jared scoots closer.

Jensen always seems so sure about things. Jared forgets, sometimes, that he worries too.

“It was a busy week, and I didn’t want to just jump into it, because if you said no and it turned into a whole big thing I worried it would get in the way when I was directing, and — fucking hell. You hate it when I say ‘we need to have a conversation about something but not right now.’”

“Well, yeah,” Jared huffs. “That’s the worst. But you could’ve at least told me it wasn’t my fault!”

Jensen makes a dismissive sound. “Why the fuck would it be your fault?”

“Seriously?”

“I mean… yeah, nothing happened, why would you —”

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Jared half-shouts, torn between exasperation and laughter. “I thought you were jealous! I told you I was attracted to somebody else, and — for fuck’s sake.”

“Did something happen with her, since we talked about that?” Jensen asks. Jared has a momentary urge to smack him.

“No. Obviously not. I just thought…”

They both just stare at each other, and then Jensen starts shaking his head slowly as realization dawns. Jared laughs, giddy and almost hysterical, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes.

“Did you think I was just going to sulk about it for a few days without telling you, and then… what, end it?” Jensen asks, as if it’s insane.

Jared shrugs helplessly. “I mean… yeah, I guess.”

Jensen sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he chooses his words. For a moment Jared thinks he’s angry, but when Jensen looks at him again, there’s nothing but this raw tenderness all over his face.

“Look,” he says, slow and deliberate. “I know I go all caveman when other people try to flirt with you, but it’s not because I don’t trust you. Okay?”

“That’s not —”

“Hang on. Hear me out here. You can’t beat yourself up for looking at someone, Jared. Or for pheromones, or what-fucking-ever. You can’t. I don’t care who else you look at, as long as you still want me, at the end of the day. Relax, okay?”

Jensen’s hands curl around his upper arms, holding him firmly, until Jared rests his forehead against Jensen’s and takes a deep breath.

“You really don’t mind?”

“I don’t. I’m fucking seriously in love with you, and I need you to know that you can tell me anything. It’s not going to change the way I feel about you. Just fucking tell me, and then we can deal with it together. As long as you’re honest.”

Jared can’t help but ask, “Do I need to point out how hypocritical —”

“Don’t even start,” Jensen laughs. “That’s different. Asking someone to make a huge fucking life change with you is different from… feeling guilty for thinking a girl is cute, or whatever. She’s fucking cute. You’re not blind.”

“You don’t think I’m an asshole?” His voice cracks.

“What? Why would I?”

“I feel like… I feel like the luckiest person in the fucking world, Jay, you’ve gotta know that.” Jared’s tearing up, because of course he is, and the intensity in Jensen’s expression isn’t helping, but the words start to spill out faster: “I never thought I could have this. This — us — it’s better than anything I ever fucking imagined, and it’s not like you’re not enough for me. You’re… this is everything to me. So how the fuck do I still want more? I don’t deserve this, let alone —”

He bites his lip to cut himself off. He didn’t realize he was going to say that out loud. It’s a little too true.

“Look at me,” Jensen growls, fierce and almost angry.

“Sorry,” Jared half-laughs, wiping away tears.

“First of all, you deserve the fucking universe,” Jensen says flatly, like it’s a very simple fact. “And even if you didn’t, I don’t give a shit, I’d still do anything to make you happy.” He brings his hands to Jared’s face, holding him so that he can’t look away. “But also? You feel more than anyone else I’ve ever met. If anybody’s got enough love for two people, it’d be you.”

Jared snorts. “It’s not like it could actually happen, it’s just —”

“Why not? As much as you like to think you’re a goddamn trailblazer, this isn’t revolutionary,” Jensen retorts, all snark. “Polyamory is a thing that people do. You can date her while you’re with me. Everybody can get what they want here.”

“Even if it was that simple—” Jared knows it’s not that simple. “—she’s not interested in me, so—”

Jensen cuts him off: “You’re an idiot. She’s fucking crazy about you.”

He looks fond and exasperated and very sure of himself, and for a moment, Jared wonders if maybe he’s right. Then he shakes his head, trying to articulate how he feels.

“I think… I’d feel weird if it wasn’t something I could share with you,” he says honestly. “I like sharing things with you. I want to share everything with you.”

Jensen’s expression goes soft and painfully sweet. “Sap.”

Jared shrugs. He can’t really deny that one. He leans in and kisses Jensen instead.

Jensen grabs him and physically hauls him closer, until they’re all tangled together, and kisses him again, hard enough to bruise.

“Is there anything else we need to get out in the open?” Jared asks wryly, when they finally break for air. “Now that we’ve established we’re both fucking morons who need to talk to each other?”

“Fuck it, while we’re on the subject of sharing.” Jensen looks at him intently. His lips are all red and swollen. “The whole threesome thing? Just for the record, I was dead fuckin’ serious about being into that idea.”

“Oh,” Jared says blankly. “But what if —”

Jensen curls a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, smirking. “Stop thinking. Not right fucking now. Not when we’re filming with her for a week solid,” he says, because he can read Jared’s mind. “Someday.”

“Someday,” Jared agrees.

“You ate those cookies,” Jensen says.

Oh.

Fuck.

Jared’s stomach swoops. He recognizes it now, the way she’s holding herself rigid, the panic that shows around her dark dilated pupils; he can feel it like it was yesterday, overwhelming and out of control and fucking humiliating.

“Fuck,” he says, shaking his head. What the fuck else can he say?

She stammers, squeezing her eyes shut like she’s refusing to think about it: “Drugs? Were the cookies drugged? Why do I feel…”

“Like if you don’t get some dick you’re gonna die?” he says bluntly. Her eyes go wide. “Been there.”

“What did you — um.”

It’s so fucking strange, thinking back to that night, just like it’s strange thinking about anything that happened before they were together. He remembers the electricity between them, the intensity of it, the way it felt to touch Jensen for the first time… he looks sideways at Jensen and knows he’s remembering it too.

“I’ll go back to my room,” she says, her voice strained and scared.

“Needs to be another person,” Jared says. His throat feels clogged, and the words come out thick and clumsy. “Believe me, I tried. But if you’re okay with it…”

His voice falters as he realizes what he’s actually offering. For a split-second, Jared feels guilty, like he brought this on somehow by sheer force of wishful thinking. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, though. Jared looks at Jensen helplessly, but Jensen’s watching her, brow furrowed with concern, and Jared is reminded (forcefully) that this isn’t about him.

“We’ve got you,” Jensen finishes, warm and sure.

She shakes her head. “I can’t ask —”

“You’re not asking.”

She looks so scared. Jared remembers that part, too: he didn’t want to look Jensen in the eyes, because he was so fucking certain he’d see disgust there, or pity, or something fucking awful like that.

Jared empathizes so intensely that he feels sick for a second. He flounders, wondering what he can say to put her at ease, make her feel wanted, and then he chuckles to himself, realizing that the truth is probably his best option here.

“It’s not like it’s a fucking hardship, y’know? Have you seen you?”

It shocks a laugh out of her, at least. Jared counts it as a win.

Then she squeezes her eyes closed again, face screwed-up and anguished, and all Jared can think about is getting rid of that pained expression. He settles on the bed next to her, takes the cool washcloth off her forehead and strokes her hair carefully, hating the way she’s frowning. She turns to look at him, and he feels like he’s about to burst with the urge to just bundle her up in a bear hug and protect her.

“Yeah, okay,” she says abruptly, soft but sure. “Yes.”

“C’mere then.”

Jared slides closer, resting a hand ever-so-gently on the curve of her waist, and she rolls onto her side to face him, eyes huge and desperate. Jensen is settling at her back. She fits so neatly between the two of them. She’s trembling, but it’s okay; Jared’s pretty sure he is too. He glances over her shoulder at Jensen.

Jensen just smiles, saying without words it’s okay and I’ve got you and together, and the last of Jared’s worries evaporate.

“You’re gonna have to stop thinking so hard,” he tells her gently, because he knows that expression a little too well. Jensen lets out a quiet snort of laughter, which is fair, because Jared saying that to someone else is like the pot telling the kettle to stop being black.

Then he’s cupping her cheek, tilting her chin, kissing her, and the noise in his head goes silent, for once; everything goes silent, just evaporates the fuck away, and all Jared can feel is the sweet soft shape of her lips as they part, the slick slide of her tongue, the way she sighs… he can feel her just melting into it, and there’s something about it that takes his breath away. She goes pliant in his arms, relaxing completely, like every muscle in her body is showing him: I trust you. The enormity of that trust is what has him spinning with need, rocketing from zero to sixty in five seconds flat.

There’s a warmth blossoming in Jared’s chest that is so far beyond a crush it’s not even funny. He’s pretty sure he’s fucked, but he can’t think about that, not now, not with the way she’s responding, surging up to meet him and draw him in deeper. The only thing that matters right now is taking care of her. He just wants to make her feel good; the rest can wait. He’ll deal with his own cracked-open heart tomorrow.

For a moment Jared’s convinced it was all a dream, but when he opens his eyes, she’s the first thing he sees. She’s curled up with her hands tucked under her chin, oddly childlike, and her face is totally serene.

She’s beautiful in a way that still takes him by surprise every time he looks at her.

Jesus pogo-jumping Christ. Jared is fucked.

Before he can really spiral out about it, though, Jensen is stirring at his back. Jared rolls over, muscles complaining about last night’s exertion, and he sprawls out half on top of Jensen, trying to keep his breathing even. Jensen runs a hand through Jared’s tangled hair, finger-combing gently.

“So that was… pretty amazing,” Jensen whispers, so quiet Jared barely catches the words.

“Yeah.”

There’s a question on the tip of his tongue and he’s burning to hear the answer, but he’s pretty sure it’s a bad idea to just spit it out like this.

Because he’s apparently a mind reader now, Jensen answers the question anyway: “I would really love to do that again.”

Jared exhales slowly. “Same.”

“But… I think it’s going to be complicated. Emotionally.”

Apparently they’re just diving the fuck into this.

Jared closes his eyes, trying to ignore the ache in his chest. He shifts, sliding on top of Jensen, propped up on his elbows. He pauses like that for a moment, taking in the pillow creases on Jensen’s cheek and the concern in his eyes.

Jensen hesitates, lips twitching down into a nervous frown before he continues: “I knew how you felt about her, but — well, I guess you’re not the only one.”

Jared blinks down at him. “What are you saying?”

Jensen reaches up and traces the line of Jared’s jaw, then his lower lip, and Jared brushes a clumsy kiss to the side of his knuckle. Jensen smiles, looking a little more sure of himself.

“Watching the two of you — I think it could be more. The three of us could be… something. It felt right.” He frowns. “Tell me that wasn’t just me?”

There’s this crazy swell of emotion happening in Jared’s chest, and he’s afraid he might choke on it for a moment. He kisses Jensen, smiling into it, and Jensen’s hands slide up his back, making his skin tingle in their wake.

Jared hesitates. “What if she — I don’t think she feels —”

“I think she’s been almost as deep in denial about this as you have,” Jensen says gently. “I don’t think she’s allowed herself to consider it, because of me, and if she knew…”

“What if —” Jared sneaks a glance at her; she’s still sleeping peacefully. He doesn’t know how to finish that sentence.

“If this is gonna work, we need to lay it all out for her,” Jensen says, so quiet that Jared feels the vibration of the words more than he hears them. “Even if it’s just sex for her, or… if this was a one-time deal. We gotta be honest with her.”

“That sounds like a terrible fucking idea,” Jared says honestly. “How does that not scare the shit out of you?”

Jensen just shrugs. “It does, a little bit. But… you’re the only thing that matters, when it comes down to it. As long as we’re in this together, the rest doesn’t seem too scary.”

It sounds so fucking simple when he puts it like that.

“Yeah, okay,” Jared whispers, leaning down to kiss him again. “Together.”

If you enjoyed this, please reblog or leave a message over here!

#j2 #j2 fic #jensen ackles x jared padalecki #j2 smut #jared padalecki x reader x jensen ackles

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lady-grace-pens · 4 years ago

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Wip Excerpt: HTKAG

In light of this wip hitting another 10k word goal recently (currently sitting pretty at a whopping 120k/150k 😅), another excerpt is due! This babe I wrote today, buut I actually loved it so much I knew I had to share it with y'all right away. That all being said, let's stop wasting time and get straight into it!

Our scene begins with Allister entering a restaurant to have dinner with Mikko, Fingal, and Perci, but Perci is late.

—

Upon telling the hostess Fingal’s name, she leads me away to the right half of the room. Off in a booth stowed away in the corner sit Mikko and Fingal jabbering away mid-conversation. Once they notice me, they stop and smile.

“Hey! There’s the man of the hour,” Mikko exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

“Not late, am I?” I grin, taking a seat beside him.

“Nope. Right on time to get some drinks,” Mikko starts smouldering at our hostess.

“With what money?” Fingal retorts with a glare.

Mikko blinks, struggling to come up with a defense. It seems he mustn't have anticipated Fingal to interrupt his attempt at flirting…

“Wha - With our money, of course,” he laughs, trying his best to make a smooth recovery.

“Aye. Which is why we’re not using my money to buy alcohol while a minor is here.”

Mikko doesn’t reply. Then again I suppose he doesn't need to, his confusion is written all over his face.

“Don’t tell me you forgot about Perci. He’ll be here any minute.”

“Oh! Fuck, that’s right. Him. Well obviously he won’t be getting any. And come on! You know how fast I can down a beer Fin! It’ll just be a few. Just a few rounds! Don’t be an ass.”

“Watch yourself Mikko, it's not polite to use such language in the presence of a lady.” I chime in, giving the hostess a polite smile.

“Oh I’ll show you what’s not polite-” Mikko says before slapping my head.

I try to hit him back, but he catches my hand before I can. Before we know it, we’re caught in a ridiculous slapping fight, both laughing our asses off.

“Not in a restaurant, not in a restaurant!” I speak through gasps, trying to end things.

Mikko obliges, tossing his hands back in his lap.

“A waiter will be right with you,” the hostess makes a case to look at each one of us except for Mikko before finishing her sentence, “... gentleman.”

Much to my surprise, Mikko doesn’t seem to be affected by that backhanded insult. Instead he kicks his knees up against the table and rests his head back, totally listless.

“Mikko, I would’ve thought you’d be more offended by that.”

“Huh? Why would I be offended at something when it’s true?”

“I’ll say. You and Al couldn’t be any more opposite. If there’s anything larger than the truth, the fact that you’re not a gentleman is way beyond it.”

“Exactly. And Mikko, you are aware of the fact that she was just a hostess, right? It isn’t even her job to serve us drinks.”

“I... “ Mikko laughs before leaning over the table again. “Listen. You two just don’t get it, do you? No. You don’t. Allow me to be the one who graces your palettes here, eh? Let me tell you what I’m gonna do. Okay? I’m gonna give you a tip. A piece of advice that will change your lives forever. All for free! You don’t even have to pay me. All you gotta do is listen. Got it? You both ready?”

Fingal and I share a look. I can tell we’re thinking along a similar vein of confused intrigue. We should most likely stop Mikko here, as whatever will come out his mouth won’t be anything good. However, we’re both too stunned to stop him, so…

Mikko beckons us to lean closer to him. Fin and I oblige. We’re almost touching heads when at last our dear mentor speaks once again, in a hushed voice. “It’s not about what you say. It’s about how you say it.”

…

There are no words. For about a minute straight Fingal and I are just staring at each other wearing the same expression that exudes two questions. ‘What the fuck? You’ve heard that too, haven’t you?’

Soon after that’s established and our shock subsides, we burst back to life. Fingal starts us off with, “Dammit Mikko. What the fuck? Where did you learn that? Who taught you that?”

“Some guys from the bar! Why, what’s wrong with it?”

“Which guys from the bar?”

“I don’t see how it-”

“Mikko. Which guys from the bar taught you this?” Fingal insists, a flash of anger showing in his eyes.

Mikko seems to notice this, and complies straight away. “Leo, John, Peter and Paul!”

Fingal buries his head in his hands. This sparks my curiosity. I haven’t heard these names before, but Fin clearly has.

“I can’t say I’m familiar with them, who might they be?”

“Bar friends-” Mikko starts, only for Fingal to finish for him.

“Jokesters. Jerks. Cheapskates always looking for a laugh. Assholes. Can’t wait to give them a piece of my mind.”

Mikko shrinks away from Fin. His head is turned away from me, but I don’t need to see it in order to know how stunned he is. It’s expressed flawlessly through the abnormal quietness of his voice. “Fin? What’s up, why’d you-”

“Because those dicks have been filling your head with shit like this every damn time I turned my back, Mikko! Dammit, this - this is why you always get rejected! Universe, I just wish you would’ve checked with me first about things like this. Not some strangers you barely even know, yet idolize them anyway.

You wanna know how you get a girl Mikko? Huh? You be nice. You be nice to them, you talk with them, and you listen. Compliments and flirting, all that helps, of course, but not forever! And you sure as hell can’t build a relationship strictly off of it. Okay? Standards and expectations vary from girl to girl, but with each and every single one there are a few things that you just have to do. Be nice, have respect, help them just for the sake of helping them! Don’t expect anything in return. Overall just - just be a decent fucking human being. That is how you get a girl.”

Mikko sits there, staring at his brother. I can’t help but do the same. In every respect, Fingal is right. Of course he is. It’s just… rare that we see him so worked up. I can hardly believe my eyes. I can hardly believe my ears, I… I can’t imagine how Mikko must be feeling.

Oh so gradually his head sinks down into his lap. He slumps over, and I swear I can see fractions of tears reflect the golden light radiating above us.

“Can’t believe I’m actually telling you this when you’re eighteen. Fucking eighteen,” Fingal scoffs, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be. I’m not mad at you. This is my own fault, I blame myself.”

“Aw, come on man! That’s even worse,” pouts Mikko.

Fingal then turns to me with an abruptness that makes me jump. “Al, what’s up? You’ve been quiet for a while. You can back me up on this, can’t you?”

“I…” I force a chuckle to try and lighten the air some. “I don’t think that I’m currently in a position to give advice like this, to be honest with you.”

Fingal leans his elbows on the table, holding his head with one hand. “Why? Something happen with Maddie?”

“Oh, did it ever,” I shake my head.

—

Aand that's all you guys get for spoiler reasons! Lmao

(also because that's all I've written today but shhhh don't tell anyone)

Buut yeah. Legit I swear I didn't mean to go so hard on feminist Fingal 😂 I mean don't get me wrong here, he's absolutely right and I'm keeping it in. But still, the words just kept on coming and coming and we ended up with this

y'know

yeah

writing is super fun sometimes

Plus tbh, writing the part where Mikko is stroking his ego and whispers his ‘top secret trick to get women’, I was literally laughing out loud 😂 like he's just so wrong, and I love how horribly Mikko fails in life. It's just super funny to me, I enjoy it a lot.

Fingal, however, clearly does not enjoy it, lmao. Legit I had no clue he could be so protective until today! Especially over Mikko. I mean I always knew their dynamics, but today… it really hit home for me.

Go back and look at the line of dialogue Fingal says right after Mikko apologizes (a rare occurrence, actually).

It’s just one little piece of dialogue, barely a few sentences! Yet I feel like it hits you. You know? It reveals so much about his and Mikko’s vibes, their situation. A pair of brothers poor and orphaned by their birth parents and raised by their grandmother, who is only growing older and weaker each year. Fingal, the eldest, having to take responsibility often. He feels pressured to raise his little bro, and feels like he's failed when Mikko turns out to be the way he is. Ya know? It's just one little thing of dialogue but I feel like it makes you feel the pressure Fin has to bear in a situation like theirs. Even if it’s only for a moment.

And Mikko! While he does incite a lot of the comic relief in HTKAG, I wouldn’t call him a strict comic relief character because that's never what I had in mind while writing him. He and Fin actually play a vital role in the plot of the story! Much more than what I can currently reveal to y'all.

Buut anyways, I'll stop rambling now. I really hope you guys enjoyed this little excerpt just as much as I adored writing it :)

—

taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed!): @vampire-with-a-pen @writingonesdreams @justyouraveragewriter @kazenokaori @dahladahlabills

#creative writing #writing #my writing #my wip #my writing wip #wip #wip excerpt #writblr #writeblr #writers of tumblr #writeblr community #writing excerpt #writing community #wip: htkag

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hasspartacusdoneanythingwrong · 4 years ago

Text

The Flame-Soaked City, Part 5

With CasCu joining them, the master triad and co. head deeper into the heart of the Fuyuki singularity. What will they uncover as they approach the source of the altered history? (I mean if you play FGO you probably know this already, but hush. We’re hyping up the mystery here!)

TW: implied body horror, villain that would hurt a child, Lev Lainur

If it’s between <triangle brackets>, that’s a mental note between masters, and if it’s between {whatever these are} it’s the viewpoint character.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

{Jeanne}

With the arrival of the new caster, we not only gained a powerful ally, but knowledge about this singularity. What started as a Holy Grail War quickly became a fight for survival as the Saber converted the other servants to her side somehow.

Spartacus was very happy to find out there was a "tyrant" taking control of the situation. If it means he will actually help us from here on out we won't fight it. The best news however is that our caster friend knows healing magic! We're so close to being able to see again!

Kat: <Hey Jeanne, why are you saying all that stuff that just happened?>

Jeanne: <Because Cris never pays attention, and we don't need them getting lost next time they front.>

Cris: <Oh come on, I'm not that bad!>

Jeanne: <Really? What is Caster's name?>

Cris: <So you were saying about our eyes getting healed?>

Cu: Alright, we're all set little lady! Let's see what we can do about those eyes of yours.

Romani: Your vitals are good on our end, Hannah. We'll probably have to do this again when you get back, but the less time spent wandering in the dark the better.

Cu: I don't need you to tell me my magic works, mage.

Marie: Go ahead with the procedure, Caster.

The runes surrounding us lit up, infusing with mana as.... nothing happened.

Cris: Oh, you have got to be shitting me.

Cu: It's quite alright, you're not the first maiden to be taken aback by my-

Cris: No jackass, I still can't see anything!

Mash: But the spell worked, senpai! Your eyes look perfectly healthy!

Cu: You wouldn't happen to be cursed, would you?

Romani: It's more likely one of two things. Either we need to heal Hannah in the present, or the problem is psychosomatic. Either way, it's not a problem we can solve now.

Jeanne: That's unfortunate, but at least we're not any worse off for trying. It gave us plenty of time for a break, at least. We should get moving towards- As we stood up to move, our foot caught a rock in the worst way, and we took a spill.

--- {Cris}

Cris: Agh, motherfuck... er...

Holy shit, I can see again! God, blasted hellscape never looked so good. Wow Mash does not look comfortable in that armor. And that old guy in blue must be caster.

Cris: Wait, were you flirting with me? You're like 40, what the hell?

Mash: This is wonderful! Thank goodness!

Marie: We might just have a chance now.

Jeanne: <Maybe switching reset something?>

Kat: <That doesn't make any sense.>

Jeanne: <I know, I am just spitballing here.>

Cu: It's a step in the right direction, but her eyesight is clearly off. I'm still plenty young.

Cris: We can argue on the way. <Jeanne, you remember which way we need to go, right?>

Jeanne: <Leave it to me. We should travel much faster now.>

---- {Jeanne}

And with that switch, we are back in darkness.

Jeanne: That is less than ideal.

Marie: What happened now?

Jeanne: Hold on, I need to test something. <Kat, do you mind?>

--- {Kat}

We can see! Everybody's starting to look a little freaked out.

Kat: <Wow, those hassans really aren't wearing much, huh? They're pretty!>

Cris: <That's enough ogling, I'm turning this body around.>

--- {Cris}

Jesus, why the hell was Spartacus standing right behind us?

Cris: <Jeanne, why are you blushing? ...God, I can't take you two anywhere.> I pull us away from the big lug and back towards the sane part of the party.

Cris: Okay, tests done. The good news is I can see. Mostly. The bad news is that while we mostly have control over when it occurs, we might go blind at random, or if I get like, surprised or highly emotional.

Marie: And how, exactly, did you figure all that out by gawking at your servants?

Kat: Intuition.

Romani: You'll have to deal with it for now. After we get you back here we can work on a more permanent solution.

After we got on the road things went pretty smooth. The skeletons were pretty much a joke now that we could see them coming, and Caster even found time to teach Mash some new tricks. We barely managed to keep Spartacus from picking a fight with that berserker that's running around. Kat chatted with Saber and the assassins (I kinda zoned out for that tbh) and eventually we reached our destination. We hadn't even entered the cave yet, and already we could feel the raw energy pouring out of the thing.

Mash: Senpai, look out!

Mash threw herself in front of us as a sword, twisted, almost to the point of being unrecognizable, embedded itself in Mash's shield.

???: Sorry, but that's as close as you'll be getting to Excalibur.

Cris: What the hell?

Cu: I was wondering when you'd show up, Archer. I see you're still Saber's faithful knight, as always.

Archer: I don't know anything about that. All I'm sure of is there's an old pain showing up again.

Cu: You lot run on ahead. I've got some personal business to take care of.

Spartacus: Let him deal with the gatekeeper, we must strike at the heart of this tyranny!

Cris: Wait wha-

Spartacus grabbed us like a sack of potatos and ran into the cave. As we were getting dragged along, the opening salvos of their duel lit up the entrance behind us.

Jeanne: Assassin! Keep a couple personas near the entrance, and let us know if we'll have to deal with Archer.

Most of the remaining Hassans peeled off from the main group. Mash and the other servants were able to easily keep up with us, though Marie had to be carried on one of the larger hassan's shoulders.

Finally our bumpy ride ended in the opening of a large room. In its center stood a crater, with a massive beam of coalescing energy running from the floor to the ceiling.

Marie: The greater grail... what's that doing in Japan?

Spartacus: Face your end, oppressor! We have come to finish your reign of-

Before he could finish his sentence, a beam of energy burst forth from near the crater. It sucked the light out of whatever it touched, and when the dust settled, less than half of Spartacus' torso fell to the ground. I took a step closer to Mash.

Saber Alter: I have no patience for fools.

A servant clad in black platemail calmly strode forth, her sword still crackling with energy. With the veins on her armor pulsating, the entire thing almost seemed alive.

Saber Alter: You there, girls. You both have an interesting noble phantasm. I would like to test them.

With no other fanfare, she rocketed forwards, and her sword met Mash's shield. Mash and Saber Lily settled into their routine again, but Mash's training was already paying off. The older saber clearly wasn't used to fights against someone who could block her sword, and Mash took advantage of that to force openings for Lily to strike.

Alter was clearly going to lose, so she disengaged and fired off another beam from her noble phantasm. Mash responded in kind, and the black energy dissipated against the shield of light.

However, Alter expected this. and was simply using the beam as cover to get in closer again. Mash never saw the kick to her side coming, and she was easily sent flying, leaving Saber Lily alone with the experienced swordswoman.

It should have been a bloodbath. It was definitely one-sided, but for some reason Alter was holding back. Lily was mercilessly beaten down to the ground, but there was the slightest bit of hesitation that grew with each attack.

Kat: <Hey Jeanne? Do the scanny thing. Trust me.>

--- {Jeanne}

Jeanne: <Okay? I don't know what you- oh.>

We could no longer see the action, but we could still feel their spirit origins. Alter's was twisted by several things, much like the shadow servants we faced up to this point, but at her core, one thing was obvious. The saber lying on the ground and the saber standing over her were the same person.

Kat: <You guys seriously didn't notice they have the same face?>

Alter: It is useless, child. I am inevitable. I am what it means to be king.

Lily: Even if that's true... even if I'll be like you one day... I'm not you now, and I won't stop fighting you here!

Lily struggled to her feet, and focused all she had left into one final attack.

Lily: Sword of Selection, grant me your power!

Alter: Vortigern, Hammer of the Vile King reverse the rising sun.

Lily: Cleave the wicked! Caliburn!

Alter: Swallow the light, Excalibur Morgan!

The energy of their swords clashed, light and dark twisting around each other before it was all unleashed in an explosion that shook the cave.

--- {Cris}

Both sabers landed heavily. Alter lands in a heap near Spartacus' body, armor cracked from the impact. On the opposite side, Lily lays still, her spirit origin already starting to come apart. Alter pulls herself to her feet.

Alter: I will make this quick.

Before she can take a step, however, a large hand grabs her foot. Spartacus' body hasn't reformed enough to move yet, but he's alive, and that's enough.

Spartacus: HAHAHAHA! Come oppressor! Break your sword against my love!

Cris: Fuck yeah! I totally knew he was okay.

Jeanne: <Are any of us good at lying?>

To her credit, she damn near tried to do exactly what he said. Saber Alter launched blow after blow into the arm hold her in place. Each swing of her sword pulling energy from the greater grail and forcing it directly into Spartacus. We took this chance to run over to Lily. Mash had finally pulled herself from the wall she got launched into and was already there.

Mash: Senpai, your orders!

Cris: Just get your shield up and be ready!

Finally, Spartacus' body had enough. The energy stored within it writhed and began to break through, covering the cave in a bright purple light. Spartacus himself never stopped laughing the entire time.

Alter, and everything else that wasn't behind Mash's shield, was devastated by the explosion. When the dust settled, Spartacus was alone, collapsed on the ground, still smiling. ---- {Kat}

Kat: Lily? Lily it's over, you did it!

Lily barely stirred, her spirit origin was falling apart.

Lily: You were right, Master... Our journey was a lot shorter than I thought.

Kat: No! No, no, just hang in there. We can go get Cu, and he can... do something, I don't know!

Lily: I know this wasn't the best place to meet, but it was fun, right?

And then she turned to dust in our hands.

----- {Cris}

Kat was completely inconsolable, so I had to take over to keep things stable.

Marie: That was unorthodox, but well done. I guess even a third-rate mage can produce first rate work when pushed. Several points are still unclear, but we can call this mission a success.

Marie: If it is any consolation, now that Saber Lily has been recorded by Chaldeas, you should have an easier time resummoning her. She won't have any memory of this place, but that'll be true of any servant you summon in Chaldea.

???: Well, well, well. I did not expect you to get this far, Master of Chaldea. You've performed well beyond our expectations. And survived beyond the limits of my patience.

The voice came from everywhere at once, a cacophony that could barely be called speaking.

Cris: <Jeanne?>

Jeanne: <I'm on it!>

--- {Jeanne}

Suddenly, it appeared, standing over the remnants Alter left behind.

Jeanne: <what is that. what is that. what is that what is that>

Kat: <Jeanne?>

Jeanne: <what is that what the fuck is that What The Fuck Is That What. Is. That.>

---- {Kat}

It was Lev. We couldn't hear what he was saying over Jeanne's... whatever was happening to her. Mash put herself between us. Marie ran straight for him. Then hellfire opened beneath her feet. Olga's voice cut through.

Marie: No! Stop! I haven't even accomplished anything yet! From the moment I was born, I've never been accepted by anyone!

And she was gone. Jeanne finally calmed down.

Lev: You fool, Romani! You haven't figured it out yet? The future isn't "missing". It's been incinerated. It, and everything else outside of Chaldeas' protection. You lost the grace of our king, and this is the natural result.

The ground beneath us began to rumble.

Lev: Ah, the singularity is collapsing already. Farewell, Romani, Mash, Candidate #48. I have many places to be.

He was gone.

Mash: Doctor, perform an emergency rayshift, now!

Romani: This will be close, I might only be able to pull one of you out.

Mash: Senpai!

Jeanne: Mash!

Romani: You're not helping!

Mash and I joined hands. The world fell apart, and everything went black.

{Cris} We came to with a start, on the floor of the command center. Already some of the hassans were leading a cleanup effort to make the place more presentable. Mash is still alive, thank God, and Romani's also here.

Romani: Good, you're awake. I'm sorry to dump so much on you already, but time is of the essence. Are you alright with a briefing right now?

Cris: I mean it's not like I'm going to feel better any time soon, let's rip the bandaid off.

Romani: The main topic: Lev was right. Human history has been incinerated. Almost no space nor time on earth has been spared, culminating in the end of time at the end of 2018. The few points that still exist are these:

With that, Chaldeas lit up with seven bright points, each one with data pouring out of it.

Romani: These seven singularities are turning points in history that have been altered to change humanity's present. Chaldea is protected from this effect for now, but that protection won't last forever. Here's what we need to do: We need to fix these singularities if we're to have any hope of saving humanity. You are our only master, and the servants you've summoned are our best bet. I know you don't have much of a choice here, but I have to ask: are you willing to do this?

Cris: Of course.

Kat: <We will.>

Jeanne: <For Marie.>

Romani: Excellent. Well then! Our object is to protect and recover human history. Our opponent is history itself. To challenge our fate is an act of blasphemy against the past itself, but this is our only chance of survival. This is now the highest and only priority of humanity: a Grand Order.

Cris: Well, Spartacus? How's that sound? A rebellion against fate itself? Spartacus simply grinned, but for the first time it seemed almost genuine.

#fgo #Fate Grand Order #mastersona #Fuyuki #Saber Lily #Spartacus #Cu Chulainn Caster #Olga Marie animusphere #stuffomancer #rebel without a cause #thinks the blind seer trope is overrated

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