#technically there was a fourth show but i don’t count it because it was out of pure anger at how badly the show fucked up

[v0idwraith]

Vox Machina officially the third show to ever make me actually cry. What is it about these animated shows man

[suzukiblu]

Day five of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems in someone who was in that situation trying to flirt with someone actually age-appropriate. ( everyone's having fun! so much sugary, fluffy, definitely-not-emotionally-fraught fun!! 🙃 ) prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“That’s not–I told you that you didn’t have to do anything like that,” he says stiffly. “That that’s not a–condition of any of this.” 

“I–yeah, I know,” Kon says, frowning a little deeper and looking–uncertain, now. Mostly just around the eyes, Tim can’t help noticing. Mostly just around where opaque sunglasses wouldn’t show any tells. “You said. I just–I thought–” 

“It’s just–not something you have to do,” Tim says, because Kon doesn’t look like he knows how to find the end of whatever sentence he’s trying to say and he needs to say something, he knows. He just–he thought they’d had this conversation, and that Kon had laughed at him because he’d thought he was being stupid to feel like he had to say it, not . . . 

Is that why Kon had laughed, or did he laugh because he thought Tim was lying to him about something he didn’t think he needed lied to about, or . . . ? 

“I know,” Kon says, biting his lip for a moment. “Like–I wanna, like . . . do this. Like, I don’t think you’re, you know–trying to be an asshole about it or anything.” 

Tim hears “this”, and wonders if Kon means he wants to act like the way he was just acting, or if Kon just means he wants to date him, and thinks this has to be part of that. It’s not . . . clear, maybe. He’s not even sure how to ask Kon that, or if Kon would even understand the question if he did. 

He’s pretty damn sure that “trying to be an asshole” is a translation of something way worse, though. 

“I don’t know what that means,” he says, mostly to buy himself time to figure out what he should be saying. “You want to do–what, exactly?” 

“Whatever you want,” Kon says, and Tim feels nauseous. 

“No you don’t,” he says, inane and useless. 

“I do,” Kon says, shifting his posture into something too-deliberate and too-practiced and just not normal to see on another teenager, and Tim has a flashed moment of intense awareness of just how not-prepared for whatever’s about to come out of Kon’s mouth that he actually–“You can just–tell me what to do, if I’m doing it wrong. Or just do whatever you want. I’ll like it. Promise.” 

There is literally no possible way that Kon could know that, part of Tim thinks, but the rest of him is thinking okay so who EXACTLY gave Kon the impression that he should be saying things like this to someone he barely knows, and how do I most effectively destroy their credit and job prospects and also every single thing they’ve ever loved?

And on top of that, who the hell taught Kon that saying things like that isn’t, like–way too much way too fast, if nothing else? Because again, he has some lives to maybe destroy a little. Like–just a bit. 

Because it’s definitely, definitely something Kon got taught. It’s just–it’s way too obvious, that all this is something he got taught. 

“Why do you think I’d do that?” Tim asks, and Kon–hesitates, a little, a flash of embarrassed self-consciousness crossing the backs of his eyes again. 

“I–it’s just–” Kon attempts, half-fumbling whatever he’s trying to say, and then more or less babbles out an awkward, stuttered explanation of: “I mean technically this is already, like, our fourth date, counting the coffee place and all, and I just–like, you're–you said you didn't wanna do all this stuff for me just ‘cuz I saved your life. I thought that meant . . . I thought you meant . . .” 

He trails off, looking a little helpless and a lot more embarrassed, and Tim feels like an asshole and an idiot and ten steps closer to going supervillain and burning down the world. Or the reality. Or the multiverse.

Just–anywhere that made Kon have to be embarrassed about this. 

“That I only wanted to sleep with you?” he asks, trying not to let his voice get too tight. “I told you, that’s not–” 

“Ithoughtyoumeantyoulikedme,” Kon blurts in a rush, jerking his head to the side to look away and also looking just shy of humiliated.

[scaredpigeons]

A debt, recurrent.

A sequel to A debt, repaid.

BSD Ogai Mori x fem!reader

NSFW 18+ MDNI

Authors Note: I had previously skirted around the idea of writing something that directly involved Elise, just because her existence is like— one of the major icky points of this character, but I had a request to do like a nanny!reader x mori, and I was like “how can I do this in cannon universe while making it make sense while also making sure it isn’t gross.” And this is what popped out. In this story, it is implied in this that Mori does not actively use Elise in any sexual activities, even though I have no idea if that’s been confirmed or denied in the manga/show. I just prefer the thought that he hasn’t. Makes me sleep better at night. That being said, I still don’t condone any actions associated with this character/the entire Lolita-loving trope, but being able to interact with things that have caused me trauma in the past in a Safe space makes me very horny happy. and I am so uncomfortably horny for this old man.

Word count: 5k

Synopsis: Mori needs to go to a meeting, and needs someone trustworthy to watch Elise. She chose you, much to your displeasure, and you spend the evening catering to her every whim. Mori returns home to find you in a vulnerable state, and who is he to refuse such a gift?

PLEASE READ WARNINGS BEFORE READING! DARK CONTENT WARNING! READ RESPONSIBLY!

CW: technically non-con somnophilia.(sexual actions while one party is asleep) Reader is into it, even though she tries to deny the fact that she is at first. Mori has very dark and possessive thoughts towards reader, reader doesn’t wake up until Mori is actively (p in v) fucking her. Touching, oral (fem receiving) fingering, very little vaginal prep, creampie, dirty talk. Mild aftercare, though it’s implied that he’s not actually done. ELISE IS NOT INVOLVED IN ANY NSFW CONTEXT, AND IS ACTIVELY TAKEN AWAY AND TUCKED INTO HER OWN BED BEFORE MORI DOES ANYTHING TO READER

You flinched at the sound of the door to the lounge swinging open, and very light footsteps accompanied by heavier, slower ones. 

You were just trying to have lunch with your coworkers, and you certainly weren’t expecting to interact with the boss today, or his… ability.

”hmm…” the little girl seemed to tap her foot in thought, and you kept your head down, though if you looked up and to the side, you could see her shoes in the corner of your vision. You could see his shoes too, standing directly behind her. 

“I want to play with… that one!” She said with a demanding tone that really grated your nerves. It’s not that you disliked children, you just despised spoiled brats, and Elise was notorious for being just so, which was exactly what Mori wanted from her, the sick bastard.

”Are you sure, my dear? That one has a bit of an attitude, I don’t know if she’d make the best playmate for you tonight.” 

Your heart sank into your stomach. There were only two women in the lounge today, yourself and another young recruit who was well known for keeping her nose down and following orders without question. 

Is it too late to throw yourself out a window? You're only on the fourth floor, it should be fine, right? 

“I said I want that one!” The girl, if you can even call her that, stomped her foot with furious impatience. “Did you not tell me I could have whatever I wanted today, Rintaro?” 

The boss of the port mafia sighed, the smile reading through his voice— you could hear it in his tone, though you refused to look up, still staring blankly at your sandwich as if you could disappear into it if you tried hard enough. 

“Yes, that I did, my darling.”

Mori called your name, making everyone in the lounge snap their gaze to you. 

If you weren’t so pissed off, you might’ve felt your cheeks heating up. 

You stood, setting your sandwich to the side as you made your way to stand in front of your boss, back straight and eyes forward. 

“Yes, boss.” 

“Come with me, I have an assignment for you today.” 

The entire walk to his office was silent, save for Elise whining about not wanting to see another tailor for another year. The girl seemed adamant about having enough dresses to last the rest of Mori’s life, and even threatened to cut that life short if he pushed her any further. 

Could she even do that? Could an ability kill its user? You almost hoped she would actually try it. 

When inside Mori’s office, he sat, gesturing for you to take the seat in front of his desk—which was strange, as most of the time his underlings would just stand to receive their orders. 

Elise just wandered off, sitting in the corner with her pencils and paper. 

“I’m going to be out for the rest of the day, well into the evening, and I need you to entertain Elise for me while I’m gone.” 

You knew this was coming, but it still felt like a lead brick was sitting in your stomach. 

“Why can’t you take her with you?” You hissed. 

“I’m going to neutral ground for a very important meeting, where the usage of abilities will be prohibited.” Mori rested his head on his folded hands, his dark eyes flickering between yours, face unreadable. 

“Then why can’t you just send her away?” You said, eyes flitting to the side as you kept your voice low, not wanting her to throw a fit because you were talking shit. “Just… release the ability, or whatever?” 

Mori smiled, his head tilting to the side. He reminded you of a venomous snake. Beautiful to look at, dangerous to let close. 

“It takes a lot of energy to reform her once she’s gone, you know. I have to be at peak condition in case of emergencies. Why else do you think I keep her around, give her a room on my floor of the building, and take her with me wherever I go?” 

Because you’re a fucking pervert. 

“Because you’re sick in the head, Rintaro!” Elise voiced your thoughts aloud, chucking a crayon across the room that smacked your boss directly in the side of his head with an audible thwack. 

Huh. Maybe the kid wasn’t so bad after all. 

He merely smiled, as if he was as happy as he could possibly be. 

“So you see, I need someone to watch over her, someone trustworthy, and entertaining.” He said, looking at you from beneath his long lashes. “And she just so happened to choose you.” 

“You think I know how to keep a kid occupied? I’m probably the least entertaining person on the fucking planet.” You hissed, white knuckling the arms of the chair. 

“I don't know,” he said, voice low and teasing. “I find you very entertaining.”

You certainly felt your face warm that time, and you couldn’t necessarily blame it on anger. You were pissed, sure, but it couldn’t be that hard, could it? 

“Fine.” You said, crossing your arms across your chest. “But you owe me.” 

He raises a sleek brow at you, as if surprised by your words. 

“I owe you?” He said, voice light and airy. Deceptive, poised. Ready to strike. “What makes you say that? Am I not your employer? Do you not take your orders from me, from those above you in rank, little one?” 

“Babysitting isn’t in my fuckin’ job description, asshole.” You hissed, somehow not afraid of the consequences. “So you owe me one.” 

What, do you think he’ll give you special treatment because you let him fuck you? 

Surprisingly, that almost seemed to be the case, as he merely relaxed back into his chair and smiled, his tired eyes roaming your body without a care in the world, as if you weren’t paying attention. 

“Very well. If I’m satisfied with Elises care, I’ll owe you one.” He said. 

Suddenly, his eyes turned very dark, his smile a tad more menacing. A snake in the grass, showing its colors. 

“However, if she is displeased with your performance, I’ll have to implement some kind of corrective action, yes?” 

You glanced off to the side, looking at where Elise was sat, scribbling on the paper in front of her like it wronged her somehow. 

“Deal.” You said. 

How hard can it be?

————————————

Mori must've said something to the staff on his level, because once he left, Elise dragged you to a floor of the base that you’d only ever been to once before, and all the guards simply ignored your presence entirely. 

They opened doors for you and the girl, closing them behind you, but otherwise there was no acknowledgment that you might’ve been somewhere you weren’t supposed to be. Completely unlike the last time you snuck in here, having to wait until the guards were switching shifts to sneak in unnoticed. 

Elise was bratty, demanding, borderline unbearable. But you squared your shoulders and muscled through, just like you would any other job. 

After dragging you around aimlessly for what felt like hours— she wanted a tea party, but you had to follow the dress code to enter, as per her rules. Which means you had to drag her all the way down to your apartment so you could bring that stupid fucking dress you’d bought upstairs, changing into it in one of the many bathrooms lining the halls. 

Elise seemed satisfied though, and spent time putting little clips and bows in your hair, lining your wrists with bracelets and your neck with a couple little necklaces. 

She requested sweets, and real tea, though you weren’t entirely sure if you brewed it properly, but she didn’t complain, only sipped it from her pink tea set and poured her gigantic teddy bear another cup. 

“Do you really have to keep up the act even when he’s gone?” You asked, though you kept your voice small, as not to offend her. 

“I am what he desires me to be.” She simply said, eyes closed, prim and proper as she sipped her tea, like a little girl pretending to be a princess. 

“Were you always like this?” You asked, cringing a little. 

“No.” She said, huffing. “People change, but Rintaro’s always had a few screws loose, so it only makes sense.” Hearing her speak such words in such a tiny little voice almost made you giggle. 

”I suppose he’s lucky he has you, or he’d probably be in prison.” You rolled your eyes, then realized what you said, finally laughing a bit. “You know, for things besides being the boss of the port mafia.”

To your surprise, she let out a snort, sitting down her teacup as she giggled a bit. 

“I’d like to see him locked up.” She said, “He wouldn’t last a day in there without me!” 

That made you snort too, picturing your boss without all the luxuries of his rank was certainly amusing. 

Your sick curiosity got the better of you, and you weren’t sure if she would answer, but you really wanted a reason to hate Mori, to get over the strange, twisted feelings that had been brewing in the pit of your stomach, so you tried to ask anyway. 

“Has he ever…” 

Her eyes thinned, and it didn’t look entirely like anger, but she certainly wasn’t giggling anymore. 

“If your ability conjured the perfect knife to cut up strawberries for cake, would you turn around and try to use it to brush your hair?” She asked.

Your brow furrowed, trying to wrap your head around what she was saying. 

She rolled her eyes, scoffing at your confusion. “I am a weapon. Whatever form I take is irrelevant to my use. You would want your knife to suit your own personal ideals, would you not?” 

She didn’t outright answer the question, but you think you get the point. Considering your strange and mixed feelings towards your boss, it's probably best if the answer to that question remains an inferred ‘no.’ 

Such complex thoughts coming from such a tiny looking girl kind of made you laugh again though. 

“Enough talking!” She suddenly stood up, stomping her foot. “I want to watch a movie!” 

It turns out, she didn't want to watch a movie in her own room, or the living room, but instead demanded that you watch the movie with her in Mori’s room, which apparently had the “big big TV.” 

The sun was setting, and you were exhausted from following her every whim all afternoon and evening, so instead of getting flustered and trying to convince her the living room was a better idea, you just gave up, stripping off that stupid dress and chunky jewelry and crawling into the bed with her in your shorts and undershirt. 

You felt embarrassed crawling into his bed after what you’d done here weeks ago, but the sheets were different, and the blankets smelled fresh, so you could delude yourself into thinking it was an entirely different bed. 

She picked Spirited Away, saying she liked the ‘no face guy’, and how hungry he was. She giggled and said that the parents deserved to get turned into gross pigs for being so stupid in the first place, and that might’ve disturbed you if you weren’t so tired. 

The last thing you remember is the feeling of Elises head falling on your shoulder, and wondering what you did to get on her good side. She’s a nightmare. She actively terrorizes the other members of the Port mafia just for her own amusement, and she’s just falling asleep on your shoulder? Do abilities even need sleep? But sure enough, her breathing was even, and her eyes were closed. 

You smiled, realizing you can’t have done too shitty of a job if she was so relaxed. 

———————————

When Mori peeks his head into Elise’s room and doesn’t see her sleeping form in her frilly pink bed, he worries a little. 

Not much, maybe mostly for you, in fear that she’d have you strung upside down and dangling from the roof somewhere in some midnight game to amuse her, but he’d told her to behave, so he hoped all was well. 

Mori thought that perhaps he should get out of this ridiculous suit and change before he goes looking for Elise, that meeting had been far too stifling, so he at least needs to hang up his jackets and get more comfortable before he can go on any longer. 

When he steps into his room, the first thing he notices is that his TV is on, its large screen illuminated with the ending credits of some cartoon, and then he looks into his bed, and his heart stops. 

Elise is cuddled up right next to you, snuggled in with your arm wrapping comfortably around her little waist as you both sleep peacefully beneath his luxurious blankets. 

The soft part of him wants to coo and take pictures to torment Elise with later. Another darker, more urgent part of him is eyeing you, your tiny, tiny shirt riding up your waist, your hair sprawled out on his pillows, a few stray bow clips still caught within, your arm around such a treasured piece of him— like you valued it just as much as he did. 

He eyes that frilly little number you wore for him those few weeks prior, just sprawled out, lying on his floor; and surmises that Elise must have demanded some kind of dress up game, the little tease. She probably did it just to annoy you, not thinking you’d actually have something to suit her criteria. 

He rounds to the side of the bed that Elise is on, carefully and slowly prying her from your hold. He very gently takes her down the halls to her own room, tucking her into bed. Any other night, he might have stayed, maybe woken her up to talk with her about her day, tease her a little about how good she must’ve been today, but he had far more pressing things to focus on, like the little one he’d left still sleeping away in his bed. 

After all, if you’d done a good enough job that Elise fell asleep comfortably in your arms, then he owed you one, didn’t he? 

Keeping his steps light, he made his way back to his bedroom, standing at the side of the bed to observe you once more. 

Your brow was soft, face passive and serene, so unlike your waking moments where all you seemed to do was stare ahead with that tortured look on your face— like you hated everything and everyone around you. 

How he craved to see you lost in yourself again, falling apart at his touch and untroubled by the burdens of your life. Having that kind of power over you sends his mind reeling, and ever since that last evening in this very room— his fingertips twitched at the mere mention of your name. 

The crushing desire to claim, to take and mold you into a perfect little doll, just for him— it was overwhelming.

But he resisted.

After all, it was that fiery spark that drew him to you in the first place. If he were to break you of it completely, that would ruin the entire appeal. 

Perhaps just in these private moments then, he’ll train you to let go slowly, but give you enough leash that you may still keep that delicious fight in you.

He saw the way your eyes trailed over him whenever he was in your presence, no doubt remembering the way he pulled you apart and pieced you back together over and over again that night. He knew you hadn’t been going to any of your little friends anymore, your evenings spent alone in your apartment, or so his people tell him. You still wanted him, that much was evident. 

So surely you wouldn’t mind if he helped himself? You seemed to be begging for it, placing yourself so sweetly on this silver platter of silk sheets, sweet and ripe for his taking. 

He removed his jackets and scarf, setting them on the desk chair before unbuttoning his dress shirt and crawling slowly into the bed behind you. 

You stirred slightly, making him pause, but you simply rolled onto your back, hand twitching against his pillow. 

“Heavy sleeper?” He whispered, a grin spreading like a wildfire in a dry field. “Or did my little darling just tire you out?” 

He lay on his side, still observing you like a hawk, watching for any change of breath or movements that may indicate your return to consciousness. 

He allowed himself to indulge a bit, dragging a fingertip up the soft skin of your stomach, raising your little shirt even further until it was tucked underneath your perfect breasts. He swirled the pad of his index finger along the center of your torso, watching the goosebumps raise as he circled around your navel softly. 

He dipped lower, toying with the hemline of those itty bitty shorts you were wearing, the spandex clinging to your form deliciously. 

He pushed the blankets down just a bit further, below your knees, not wanting the change in temperature to startle you awake if he removed it completely. 

He watched your eyebrows twitch ever so slightly as he ran his fingertips along your covered core, just a tease of a touch, simply for his own amusement. 

Then he pressed a bit harder, enjoying the little groan you let out. 

“Even in your sleep, you’re still so responsive.” He whispered, licking his lips. 

He brought his hand up to toy with the hemline of those shorts again, watching your stomach dip at the touch of his fingers slipping beneath. 

“I wonder if you’ll let me slip these off, hmm?” 

He slowly rose to kneel beside you, hooking his fingers into the sides of the spandex, shimmying them down slightly to gauge your reaction. 

You were as still as stone, breaths even and eyes closed, save the occasional twitch of your fingers. 

“So good for me,” he mused. 

He continued sliding them down your thighs, exposing you fully as he realized— much to his satisfaction— that you wore no panties underneath. 

He grinned at the slight glisten to your folds, stopping the pull of your shorts right above your knees to admire the sight for a moment. 

Still, you slept, completely unaware and unbothered. He slipped your legs free from the blankets, fairly certain that he could be a little less cautious than before, and pulled your shorts off completely. 

He sat your legs back down, a little more spread than before, and kneeled between them to admire you closer. He ran his hands up your delicious thighs, loving the way your skin prickled as he went. 

He saw the way your nipples perked beneath your shirt, smirking to himself as he pushed the little scrap of fabric further up your chest, exposing your breasts to him completely. 

“A little cold, are we darling?” He whispered, running a finger along one pert nipple. 

As much as he desired to toy with your breasts a bit further, he did not know how long this glorious window of uninterrupted play would last, and wanted to enjoy himself to the fullest while he was able. 

Pushing your thighs to spread completely for him, he laid down on his stomach to watch up close as he spread your folds, using his thumbs to pull you apart and gaze at the glistening treasure you kept so guarded from him. 

He gingerly lapped a firm strike from bottom to top, eyes watching your face for any changes as he savored your taste. 

“You taste just as delectable as I remember, little one.” He whispered against your clit, flicking it with the tip of his tongue and enjoying the sleepy little whines that poured from your throat, still lost in the throes of slumber. 

He indulged himself further, licking and suckling along your core and pressing his tongue shallowly into your little hole until you were absolutely dripping for him, his cock twitching at the way you whined softly in your sleep. 

He removed his gloves and tossed them aside, gingerly easing an index finger into your waiting hole, your juices easing the slide. 

In your sleep, you were so soft, so pliant. Your walls gave a little clench at the intrusion, but he was very amused at how unrestrained you were. He added a second finger, marveling at how easily they slid in, your walls so accommodating, so plush. 

“You know, darling,” he whispered, pulling back to kneel up and work his belt open, uncaring of the wetness along his fingers. “Like this, I don’t even think I need to work you open for me.” 

Unbuttoning his pants, he finally pulled his aching cock free of its confines, having been neglected from the very beginning in favor of the mental satisfaction of such activities. 

“I think you could take me just like this,” he said, stroking himself as he watched your chest rise and fall, unfettered, head resting beautifully on his pillows. 

He pulled a spare pillow from the opposite side of the bed, gently pulling up your lower half to place it under your ass, hoisting you up to a proper height. 

You squirmed, mumbled a bit as your eyes rolled beneath their lids, your hands twitching and thighs shifting. 

He paused for a moment, almost worried you’d wake before he got to the best part, but it really didn’t matter when you woke up, you’d be taking his cock so sweetly for him either way.

After you settled back down, he thumbed over your clit once more, enjoying the way your sex clenched and glistened for him. Stroking himself a moment longer, he finally gave in and leaned forward, rubbing the head of his cock along your folds, reveling in the way your wetness coated him. 

With one hand supporting himself in the bed beside your waist, and the other guiding his cock, he finally, finally pushed against your entrance, groaning at the warmth parting so deliciously for him, wrapping him in your hot and pliant embrace. 

He was right, your walls graciously sucked him in, still snug, but the lack of preparation didn’t seem to matter. As he pushed further into your welcoming softness, he shifted, placing his hands beside your head to lean down and press open mouth kisses along your neck, sucking marks in plain sight, where everyone could see. 

He wanted to own you. He technically did— given his rank compared to yours, but he wanted more. He wanted to consume you entirely. 

He didn’t care anymore, in fact, he wanted you to wake now, to wake to the feeling of him inside you, fucking into you like you were his to do with as he pleased. 

With a rough snap of his hips and a nibble beneath your ear, he finally pushed in fully, his hips slapping against yours. 

You gasped, eyes finally popping open as your head rose from the pillow, a rough moan ripping from your throat as he started a rough and steady pace. 

“There she is,” he groaned in your ear. “How nice of you to finally join us.” 

Your walls clenched tight around him, your eyes wide as you pressed against his shoulders in a half hearted attempt to push him away. 

“B-boss?!” You stuttered, your brow furrowing in confusion, in worry. “What are you— Mori!” 

You moaned as he grabbed your thighs, pressing them into your chest as he threw your calves over his shoulders. The motion left your little white socked feet dangling uselessly behind his head as he brutally angled each thrust against your g-spot. 

Your hands moved to grip at the loose shirt hanging by his collarbones, fingernails digging in but not hitting his pale skin. He almost wanted to shift positions to remove his shirt, maybe let you rake those blunt nails down his back so he too could wear marks of this moment. 

But the way your eyes rolled back and you pushed your head to the side was too good, it was like you were trying to hide from him, hide how much you loved this. 

“Where are you trying to run, little darling?” He breathed, a wicked smile ghosting along your cheek as you flinched, biting back moans that made your lips bruise. 

“I… why are you—“ you couldn’t form proper words, let alone a sentence, and he shuddered at how far gone you already were, your mind still blurry from your slumber, body reacting to him so beautifully. 

“You were so pretty in my bed, laid out for me like a little treat.” He bit at the sensitive flesh of your throat, groaning when you squeezed around him. “I simply am just taking a bite of what’s mine.” 

You cried out at that, squirming under him as he felt your walls twitch and tremble, your slick forming a ring around the base of his cock, the filthy, slick sounds making his head spin. 

“That’s what you are, isn’t it?” He said, bringing a hand to your face to force you to look up at him, your big doe eyes wide and wet with unshed tears. “That's what you desire to be? Mine?” 

You bit your lip, and he could feel you tense, trying to stave off your orgasm, as if he would ever not succeed in making you cum. 

“Say it,” he hissed, thumbing your bottom lip from between your teeth. “Tell me what you are, hmm?” 

His hips continued to slam into you, and he could feel himself nearing his own limit, but he knew you were right there— right at the precipice. 

You were so stubborn, and oh how he loved that about you. How he throbbed when you shook your head, refusing to speak even though you clung so tightly to him, even though he could feel your walls pulsing with the need to release. 

“Tell me.” He nearly growled, his pace never faltering despite the burn of his own orgasm being held back. “Who do you belong to?” 

You looked like you were going to deny him once more, but he saw that sparkle of need in your eyes, so he wrapped his hand around your throat, applying delicious pressure at the sides, restricting the blood flow to your pretty little head. 

He was reminded of how small you were like this. How easy it would be to snap your little neck if you were an adversary. Instead he was delighted when your eyes rolled back once more as he growled down at you. 

“Who do you belong to?” 

He released his hold, and you gasped as your walls fluttered, your release crashing into you like a train, moaning and babbling up at him in your pleasure. 

“Mori! I’m yours! I’m yours— I wanna be yours, I wanna belong to you—!” 

He groaned, letting himself go as you continued your babbling, feeling his cock twitch against your still fluttering walls, the pressure of you squeezing him so tightly was almost unbearable. 

“That’s it,” he moaned. “Mine, all mine.” 

He felt himself tip over the edge and leaned down to bite at your throat again. 

“Now take what I give you, take it all.” 

You cried out as he spilled into you, his hips finally stuttering with each pulse of his hot cum into your cunt. You gripped him tightly, keening as he panted in your ear. 

When he was finally done, you fell back, arms spread wide as you stared lazily up at the ceiling. 

“Did you enjoy your evening?” He grinned, pulling his softening cock from your leaking core, enjoying the way a little dollop of his cum oozed at your entrance. 

“You’re a fucking asshole.” You groaned, throwing an arm over your face. 

He tucked himself back into his pants as he chuckled. 

“After all that you still have the energy to be so acrimonious?” He teased, getting up to retrieve a cloth from the en suite. 

“You’d be pissed off too if someone woke you up by shoving their cock in you!” You shouted from your place on the bed, clearly spoiled rotten from the last time he fucked you, knowing full well that he intends to clean you up before letting you sleep. 

He rolled his eyes to the side as he made his way back to you, waving his hand dismissively to tease you. “I wouldn’t be pissed, per se. Perhaps a bit startled, maybe murderous, maybe indulgent. Depends on how nice the cock is.” 

He grinned as he watched you get flustered, tugging your shirt down and crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Salacious, depraved, idiot old man.” You grumbled, and he laughed. 

“Are you saying you didn’t enjoy yourself, little one?” he leaned down to wipe the sweat and juices between your thighs, and watched with keen eyes as you relaxed, letting his cum pool out of you and onto the waiting cloth. 

His spent cock twitched in interest, and he flashed his eyes back to your face, gauging your reactions. 

You were red, still indignantly looking at the ceiling as he cleaned you up. 

“I’m not saying that, don’t put words in my mouth.” You said, pouting like a spoiled rotten child.

Oh, how he enjoyed you. He was going to soak in every second of your time. He wouldn’t let you run away again and pretend like this wasn’t happening, like you didn’t want him. No, you were stuck this time. 

His cock swelled again, watching you grumble and pout. 

“You’re right, darling.” He said, pulling away to undo his pants once more, reveling in the way you chewed on your swollen lips, your thighs clenching together. “I have better things I can put in your mouth.” 

—————————————————

[dusterbishop]

i hear you call my name (and it feels like home)

summary. || three timelines, you have watched remy lebeau die. you didn't believe you would earn a fourth chance to save him until you find a variant with no memory of his past, lost in a void of existence.

pairing. || gambit x f!reader (past relationship with current enemies-to-lovers)

count. || 6.4k

notes. || posted on ao3 here. warning for character death and violence. this is the end! thank you all for the lovely words of support, it means so much that you all loved this duo as much as i do. i have ideas of oneshots for the future, but for now, i leave you all with this!

part one. || part two. || part three. || part four.

Your ears are ringing.

Awareness floods you in slow, uneven strokes. You can hear the roar of battle buzzing through the fog in your mind, guttural screams of pain cutting through in sharp starbursts. There’s a staff in your right hand, and you spasm your grip on it, testing its weight.

It is Remy’s.

Once, that staff had been too heavy for you to properly swing around. He had watched you practice with a pained grimace for a week before he surprised you with your own to train with. The two of you were nothing more than colleagues at that point, simply two mismatched X-Men crossing paths by sheer fate. Until he had handed you your own staff, its weight balanced with delicate perfection in the palm of your hand, and showed you how to use it.

You had never told him that you only used the staff because you could see it in every timeline, a slow conversion of your fighting style across lifetimes. Not every life you lived shared Remy, but his influence still lingered at the edges, seeping in like ink. Fighting with a staff, learning to pick locks, using sleight of hand to swap items from timelines with ease. It was all an extension of your life with Remy. Just echoes, over and over, spreading out in rippling waves.

Echoes, which could never replace the thrill that sparks your attention when a blazing playing card whizzes past your ear. There’s a muffled explosion as the card makes contact with the enemy swinging for your head, and you gracefully sidestep the half-dead man that staggers into a collapsed pile at your feet.

“Watch where you goin’, mon coeur,” Gambit calls. Another whistling hum of kinetic energy, another flash of blazing purple as he throws another card and cuts down another blank faced enemy. The base that Nova commands has a strangely illusive layout, and the war-starved bodies seem like an endless, writhing thing to overcome.

Time is a limited resource, after all. You can taste it just as surely as the blood in the back of your mouth.

“Maybe I’m too distracted watching something else,” you call back. You don’t take the time to see the expression on his face, but you hear his delighted laugh before he starts slinging explosives again. It’s easy to fall into battle. Even easier while you’re wearing your old suit, and the fabric is soft and well-worn just as you remember it. The clothes you wore in the Void were fine for travel, but you felt strangely out of place last night watching Remy adjusting his coat for the upcoming battle.

You are one of the X-Men, technically. It’s been more than a lifetime since you felt like one, but you know their colors and their mission. The suit always did feel more like a formality. There is nothing that could prevent you from fighting for people who cannot protect themselves. Everyone else only has one life, and you have an infinity of them. The gold and blue of your suit is meant to inspire hope for the people you are defending, not to boast about your position, and yet Remy had stuttered mid-sentence when he turned to see you suddenly dressed in your original suit, prepared for battle.

Been a’while since Gambit seen you wit’ those colors. Though, Gambit t’inks you look better out of ‘em, too...

“Pot callin’ the kettle black,” Gambit says. He’s closer, now, as if magnetized to the orbit of your battleground. You smash the skull of a man trying to catch a cheapshot to Gambit’s ribs, and Gambit slips an explosive card into the pocket of the man’s coat for good measure. Briefly, his hand catches the curve of your elbow, brushing his fingers over the pulse-point. Even through the sleeve of your suit, you can almost feel the heat of his skin, searing bone-deep.

“Just calling it as I see it, Cajun,” you say. It doesn’t sound as breathless as you feel. Gambit still has that infuriatingly pleased look on his face, though, so you give him a half-hearted shove with a raised brow. “Save the world, remember?”

“Mais la, all bluff no play,” he complains. “S’il vous plait, mon coeur —”

Time slips.

One moment, you take the chance to catch your breath, falling all-too-easy to the lure of sparring with Remy. The next moment, you’re on the ground. There’s blood beneath you, pooling under your head, dripping from your nose and down to the hard-packed soil.

“Remy,” you choke out. Your ears are ringing with echoes of voices, though you assume it’s across timelines based on the range of emotions. You can hear crying as soul-wrenching as fresh grief, and laughing as bright as bells. It’s like picking up a landline and hearing a conversation you’re only privy to as a passing voyeur.

You blink away some of the dirt and sweat stinging your eyes. You’re still on the ground. Something weighty and warm is settled over your back, tucked into the curve of your sides. The scent of smoke and cologne curls around you as familiar as the back of your hand.

Remy draped his coat over you. You spit a wad of bloodied saliva onto the ground, grimacing at the dark thickness. How long have you been out? You don’t remember charging up to leave the timeline.

Even worse, you don’t remember going anywhere. Time may change around you, but your mind keeps itself sharp with a constant awareness. Even when you would travel time in your sleep, you knew you were moving based on the pressure changing in the air. There had been no pressure change, this time. Only standing with Gambit, teasing him in the way that blazed adrenaline through your veins. Then, it is you laying on the ground, curled up underneath his coat, tasting blood.

You blink again. You think you’re shivering, or maybe you’re trembling, because you aren’t cold. That hazy, all-consuming fever pulses across your skin in waves, burning across your every nerve. It takes effort to turn your head just a fraction, searching the scattered battlefield. You’re still in Nova’s compound. You can see Blade and Elektra distracting any enemy seeking the weaker prey, luring them away from where you lay.

It had taken two more days before you and Gambit had met back up with the resistance. Initially, you had been wary of the strange collection of mutants, reflecting their own suspicion of you back like a mirror image. Yet they had seemed relieved that Gambit was back unharmed.

Now, far past the initial skepticism of your arrival, they treat you with the same consideration they give Gambit.

Though Gambit is… the same, and yet he’s more. The way he fights is far different than the way he did during the days when you both worked with the X-Men. He doesn’t linger near the boundaries of the fight anymore. You used to breathe easier knowing he had been prowling the edges of a fight with his cards at the ready, always protecting your back.

Now, when he fights in the Void, he storms the battlefield as a raging violet-blaze tempest. You find him easily through the crowded clusters of skirmishes, his staff humming with kinetic charge. He wields a handful of cards with careful scarcity, and you know it’s because you have his coat draped over you, holding all of his extra ammo.

He is going to get himself killed.

That thought propels you into motion. Your arms tremble as you push yourself to sit up, the back of your mouth filling with blood and nauseating saliva. It hurts to breathe. It feels like there is a shard of glass lodged in your ribs, cutting up your insides. The only blood you can sense is the slow drip from your lips, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t damage you can’t see yet. Something in your being is dismantling in slow, even strokes, cast adrift from the timelines and stranded in the Void.

One of Nova’s henchmen gets too close to Remy and sideswipes him. The soft-muted grunt of pain from Remy sends a chilling lance of fear through your gut, though before you can move, Remy is already turning and taking down the enemy with a swift twirl of his staff.

They are going to kill him if you don’t get him out. You know it, and it hurts so much to move, but you push yourself to your feet with a strangled whine of frustration. Of all the times for your body to fail you, it has to be now, when Remy is exposed to an entire base of people trying to kill him.

His coat is a familiar weight over your shoulders, but that doesn’t quell the violent shiver that runs through you. Neither does it stop the sudden rush of dizzying pain, or the way you have to hunch over and spit out blood onto the dirt. No time. You don’t have any time.

“Remy,” you call out. You fumble to wipe away the blood dripping down your chin just as he turns at the sound of your voice, his face bright with relief. He doesn’t notice the blood. He moves quickly through the battlefield nonetheless, wrapping an arm over the shuddering arch of your shoulders.

“ Mon coeur,” he says, and he must see something in your face that makes him hesitate. “Enjoy your nap, chér ?”

You suck in a sharp breath. It’s always ‘chér ’ when he doesn’t know which version you are.

“Still with you, LeBeau,” you tell him. Your hand reaches up to cradle the curve of his jaw. He’s buzzing with energy beneath your touch, but it’s the simmering fire in his eyes as he gazes back at you that makes you feel set alight.

“Wanna play?” He says softly. One arm is still slung protectively over your back, but he uses his free hand to fasten his coat tighter over your shoulders, his hand lingering at the vulnerable curve of your throat. “I deal you in, mon coeur.”

You’re reluctant to let him go, so you pull him in and press a chaste kiss to his mouth. You don’t let him go deeper than that so he doesn’t taste the blood, even if there’s a savage wanting in your gut to sink deep into his embrace and never resurface. It’s not fair, you think, that you finally found him only to lose him all over again.

“Deal me in, Cajun,” you whisper to him. His fingers drop from the hollow of your collarbone to the seam of his coat sleeve, drawing a card. He flickers it between his fingers to show you his dealt hand — the ace of hearts — before it disappears into the nothingness of time. You let Remy press another kiss to your mouth, and you have to close your eyes to fight back the burn of tears. Even with your eyes closed, you can hear the hoarseness in his voice when he pulls back.

"You an' me, chér, couple'a aces, non?" 

You have to turn your head to hide a sad smile. "A matched pair."

Like that, the two of you separate. He goes into the fray of battle, the air whirring violently with charged energy, and you step back into the shadow, pulling your ace of hearts from the timeline. You have caught nothing but glimpses of Nova since you arrived, but you can feel her presence at the edges of your mind, probing for weakness. 

So you look weak. It’s easy to slouch against the wall, your breathing coming in labored pants, the sleeve of your X-Men suit streaked red with the blood you keep wiping from your chin. Hurt prey is weaker, after all. You know what she must see when she sees you so far from Remy’s orbit: an injured fawn ripened for the kill.

“Don’ ya leave now, the fun just startin’,” Remy laughs. He sweeps his staff in a wide arc, warding off the enemies crowding closer to his position, but he only has eyes for you. He’s watching you, and you know the moment she arrives by the way his eyes harden with venomous hatred.

“Indeed,” Nova says. Her presence is a sudden, harsh strike to your mind. You have to grit your teeth to muffle your shocked gasp. Her hand is lax around your throat, but you are all too aware of the hand gently caressing the back of your skull. You can hear the smile in her voice when she whispers in your ear, ��I’ve never seen something like you.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” you say. The air whirs in quiet contention around you,  but you’re more focused on the card still clutched in your hand. Come on, come on...

“You’re a little wanderer, aren’t you,” she muses. She runs her fingers through the locks of your hair with gentle fingertips, and it takes all of your self control not to spasm and jolt out of her touch. You clench your empty hands tightly, instead, and try not to stare at Remy when he suddenly tucks his hand into a tight fist, purple light buzzing ravenously through the tight clench of his fingers.

“What are you doing running with the swamp rats, hm?” Nova strokes your head again. “You don’t seem like one of their merry band of misfits.”

Remy makes an indignant sound at that, and just as Nova looks to him, the light in his hand dies to nothingness.

“His name is Gambit,” you say. The playing card in your hand whirs with pitched fervor. Almost there. “Make sure you remember that.”

Time condenses to your will, and you’re looking right at Remy when the ace of hearts detonates, rippling a shockwave through you and Nova. Kinetic energy consumes you in a wildfire, burning through the flesh of your body with fervent hunger. You see the ache of distraught cross his face, and then there is only the movement of timelines shifting in place, carrying you through lifetimes, blurring the world around you into a wash of muddled watercolors.

When you blink, the world rights itself.

When you breathe in, settling back into a body escaped unharmed, you see Remy fall.

“No!” You shout. Or perhaps it is a whisper. Or perhaps it is spread across every timeline, every particle of your being spread thin and calling out in pained fury. You aren’t sure of anything except the way Remy twists, losing grip of his staff, and collapsing to the ground.

A wordless scream of rage tears through you. You can hear its echo filling the air as you yank time into a heel, drawing yourself across the expanse of the field in moments. You aren’t sure where the others are, or if Nova truly perished in the kinetic explosion as you intended. All you can see is Remy, lying in motionless rigor, and the man that took the shot that put him down.

Time scrambles in your mind, but you reach your destination faster than the man can draw his weapon at you. Your hands take his head in a vice grip, the tips of your gloved fingers digging harshly into his dirt-streaked skin.

“How dare you,” you snarl. If you had the chance, you would tear him through time until he disintegrated. You break his neck instead, the sickening crack of his bone fading from your attention the moment you feel his body slip from your grasp. You don’t manipulate time to fall to your knees by Remy’s side, but the space between movements is a blur you don’t care to investigate.

“Remy,” you half-sob. You reach out and grasp his shoulder, turning him over onto his back, and nearly sob again in relief when you see him squinting back at you with dazed annoyance.

“Lucky strike,” he mutters. Your hand flutters down to brush against his side, your heart seizing at the grimace on his face. The warmth of blood against your fingers spreads a numbness through your gut. You only press your hand firmly to the wound, gritting your teeth against the roaring fury building in your throat.

“What happened to ‘the house always wins’?” You snap at him instead. The blood is sticky and warm, and it won’t be staunched by the pressure of your hand alone. He’s going to bleed out.

“Raising the bet,” Remy grunts. There’s a sheen of sweat across his brow, but it’s the ashen pallor of his skin that makes your chest tighten with panic. God, you’re going to lose him.

“I hate you,” you whisper. You hate the Void. You hate Nova, and her violent-driven henchmen. You hate yourself, most of all, for doing this to him. For not being able to do more.

“Tha’ sounds more like love than hate, mon coeur.”

“Just playing the odds,” you bite out. He blinks at you, sluggish, and you realize exactly what you have to do. It’s the only thing you can do for him. You draw your hand back from his side and try not to gag on the smell of it permeating the air. There’s a steady puddle beneath him, soaking the knees of your suit, but you hardly feel it. You can’t feel anything at all, in fact.

Just that whirring buzz of time, and the slowly approaching footsteps of Cassandra Nova coming up behind you.

“Go ahead, Remy,” you breathe. The timeline whirs to life beneath your palms, a composed symphony to the crackling buzz of kinetic energy. You cup his face, thumbs smoothing away the dust beneath his blackened eyes, and you will him to live.

He reaches up to try and catch your wrists. There’s that furrow in his brow, again, like he’s preparing to curse you out for this. He’s a pulsing livewire of humming energy in your hands, simmering with an explosive potential. If he stays here, he will be nothing more than a husk. Dying like a goddamn hero, slaughtered like a martyr upon the altar, just to give you the chance to take down Nova.

So you imagine him at your apartment, in your bed, instead. Tucked under the blankets, his hair mussed from sleep. Figaro curled up on his chest, purring his strange rattling hum, the other two boys stretched out beside him. The world is quiet, and safe. Nothing is there to hurt him.

The timeline sings in your hands. You want to kiss him, but you don’t. Kissing him will feel like goodbye, and you don’t think you could bear the thought of it, not right now. Not before you finish taking down Nova.

Your gaze locks with his. You can see the moment he realizes that you aren’t going with him. The annoyance at being forced to take the retreat cracks out of his expression with sharp, desperate panic. His hands nearly catch you at the wrist, his fingertips brushing against the sleeve of your coat, but then he’s gone. You stare down at the dirt where he once was, fighting to keep your breathing steady. He’s safe.

At least, you tell yourself, one of you made it home.

Yet it still feels like a gaping wound in your side. You betrayed him to save him.

“Touching,” Nova remarks. You can’t bring yourself to move. You’re still kneeling in the remains of Remy’s blood when she strikes you.

The world flickers in and out of focus, spinning in rampant circles. Distantly, you’re aware of your legs kicking weakly in the air, your hands scrabbling desperately at your throat to ease the choking grip she has you in. Except she isn’t touching you, not with her hands.

No, she’s standing just out of arm's reach, smiling like a sphynx.

“I have seen so many variants,” she says idly. You’re choking on nothing, fighting the headache rending through your temples. “There’s been some Jean Grays, a few Rogues. More than a few Gambits. Many, many Deadpools.”

“And yet,” she continues. “I have never found more than one of you.”

The release of the grip she has on your throat makes you gasp out a cry, sucking in air with deep, hoarse wheezing. You hardly feel the impact of your body collapsing to the ground, too relieved in the taste of air. You rub at your throat with shaking fingers, trying to erase the feeling of her grip crushing your windpipe.

“That isn’t the strangest part, however.”

You know where this is going. You close your eyes.

“I could feel you,” she shifts closer to you, but you don’t have the energy to flinch and create distance between the two of you. “In your mind, you are nothing but fragments.”

“Wayfarer,” you whisper. It comes out in a croak, but you are far beyond caring. “I am everywhere and everything.”

“Broken,” she agrees. You open your eyes at that. She looks vindicated, as if admitting your ability has only made you weaker. You suppose, hunched over and wheezing, you don’t look as threatening as you used to during your X-Men days. You must look like nothing but bleeding prey.

Good, you think. You smile at her with bloodied teeth. “Broken things are meant to hurt, you know.”

Like shuffling a deck of cards, you let time flutter through your hands, staggering into a timeline version of yourself where you can breathe without choking. Your body follows the commands of your mind with elegant obedience.

Your hands meet their mark, and latch onto Nova tight enough to turn your knuckles pale. The pair of playing cards pressed against each of your palms sizzle with hunger where they make contact with her body.

Pain lances through your skull, exploding into brilliant light behind your eyes. You think your hands are still clutching onto Nova, but you cannot feel them. The world is bright violet, time shuffling with a charged whir. The kinetic energy ripples down your hands in great, staggering waves, a faint prickle of pain among the agony of time rendering itself apart around you.

Nova is screaming. Distantly, you feel her hands pulling at you, yanking at the lapels of Remy’s coat, hitting your face. She must be trying to delve into your mind. She cannot catch you, though. You are plummeting through every timeline, shuffling from one version of yourself to the next, then the next, then the next. Over and over. Over, and over, and over.

Shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

You think you let go of her.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

No, it’s not your hands that have let go. Your arms are shuddering through time, but your hands keep locked onto her, holding her steady, burning violet. You haven’t let her go, but your body is being torn into pieces.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

Nova isn’t screaming anymore.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

You are.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

You can’t hear it over the roaring of time rushing through you, but you can feel your throat blazing, screaming through every timeline, every version of yourself. This must be what dying feels like. It is infinite across all time. There is no other way out.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

Her body dissolves with slow tendrils of violet light creeping beneath the exposed flesh, tracing whirls with the lines of her veins and arteries. It consumes her from the inside, spreading out with a meticulous, parasitic intensity.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

Remy’s power consumes you, too. You see the light creep up your wrists, then your arms, then your shoulders. You can feel its warmth down to your bones. It almost feels, strangely, like it’s him hugging you. It feels like it did last night, tangled in his arms beneath the sheets, your ear pressed to his chest to listen to the rhythm of his heart.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

You wonder, distantly, if his power is trying to keep your body together. The charge of kinetic energy is concentrated in your hands, but you can still feel the heat of it pooling in the pit of your stomach and scorching the back of your mouth. Remy had been dismissive when you asked him what it felt like to charge something, though you figure he had been exasperated by your own explanation of your ability. You doubt he would have known what it felt like to be torn asunder with only the kinetic lightning crackling through him.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

You think about Remy, for a moment. You think about the apartment that you both signed the lease on, furnished with a thief’s eye of luxury, cluttered with the little bits of memorabilia and creature comforts you curated over the years. You think about the cats that Remy dotes on, your own cats by marriage, all curled up in their favorite spots around the two of you. You think about the couch that you had teased Remy about for the price, only for him to turn around and gloat about the amount of naps you took on it. You think about the movie nights with you two intertwined on that couch, the cats pressed into your sides, the room dim-lit and safe.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

You think about how you would like to do that, again. To be able to sit on the couch with your husband and watch a movie. To be with Remy, and not be caught in this web of unraveling agony.

— shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull, shuffle, draw, pull — 

Like a loose thread, you unravel.

Shuffle.

It starts in your hands, with your fingertips, and it spreads from there.

Draw.

Your eyesight goes last.

Pull.

You see Remy in every lifetime, looking at you, his outline glimmering with that kinetic violet light. His mouth is moving. It almost looks like your name.

Shuffle…

Nothing comes to your mind. Everything comes into pitch black.

Shuffle…

Your hands are empty.

Shuffle…

Time is empty, now absent when it once was vast. You had been infinite, once. Like time, you had been endless.

Shuffle…

You had been lost before you knew what it felt like to be seen. You could never be sure what timeline was originally yours before you switched them. Even the smallest of details could escape your attention if you weren’t looking for it. At a certain point, you realized you had to choose a life to claim as yours and stop wandering. Even a Wayfarer needed an anchor to call home for when it was time to rest.

Draw.

You had wandered for a long time. Years, perhaps, though your physical bodies changed shape and form in ways you couldn’t predict. The face in the mirror had never been home, anyway. There were too many genetic variables to each timeline to preserve the way you looked. Your body was merely a temporary housing for your time-stepping mind. A body was not an anchor. It was simply a tool to be used and discarded.

Pull.

An anchor needs to be constant. It needs to be something that will not retreat when time grows teeth and begins to hurt. It needs to be loyal to the cause. It needs to be kind, deep down, even if the surface is skin-deep careless. It needs to make you feel safe.

It’s… warm. Soft.

You bury your face deeper into the pillow with a long, blissful sigh. You will never regret insisting that you splurge and spend the extra money on a memory foam mattress. It feels like floating in the clouds.

A soft, questioning mmrph rumbles next to your ear. It’s your only warning before a small, wet nose presses to your temple. You know it’s Oliver by the way he starts to knead at the pillow next to your head, purring a roaring chorus. There’s another weight on your legs, pinning them down, and a third is nestled into your side. Remy must be up, already, if they’re all stuck to you for warmth.

“Did your father abandon us again, boys?” You mumble sleepily. Oliver purrs louder at the sound of your voice. You can feel the weight on your legs shift, no doubt being that it’s Lucifer standing up to stretch before he starts to walk up the length of your body. He’s purring, too, though he resettles on the spot between your shoulder blades, the hum of his purr radiating across your back. Figaro doesn’t grace you with an acknowledgement, but neither does he unfurl himself from his spot next to your side.

Warm, soft, and safely nestled amongst your cats. It’s nearly heaven. You end up half-dozing back off, lulled to sleep by the purring next to your ear. You feel like you haven’t slept in a lifetime.

You don’t hear the door open, though you know something is wrong by the way Figaro leaps to attention and Oliver’s purr stutters to a stop.

When you open your eyes, it’s half-lit by the morning sun. It must be closer to noon than the time that you usually wake to train. Any trace of lingering sleep drifts away when the bedroom door creeps open with its usual squall of hinges.

You smile and twist to look over your shoulder, dislodging Lucifer despite his soft sound of discontent, and yawn, “Morning. I think.”

Remy is posed in the doorway. Your next words die in your throat as you see the look on his face, the staff still gripped tightly in his hand. He’s dressed in his usual armor, not his civilian clothing like you expected. His hair is longer, tied back carelessly from his face, flyaway strands curling around his temples. His eyes are near-black, both through his irises and the dark shadows collecting beneath them.

He looks like he has spent years surviving an apocalypse.

“Jesus, Remy,” you breathe. You’re sitting up in an instant, one hand out reaching towards him. His armor is dust-streaked and worn from battle. “Are you hurt?”

“Where’d you go, chér?” He rasps. His face is still utterly, terrifyingly still. You have never seen him at the brink of collapse like this, before. He looks like he wants to step further in the room, his hand twitching with a nervous tic of adrenaline, but he stays stock-still. Waiting for you.

“Nowhere,” you say softly. “I’ve been in bed with the boys, love.”

You have to resist the urge to spring out of bed and run your hands along his body to look for any sign of injury. You aren’t entirely sure what’s gotten into him, but if he’s hallucinating or delirious, you should probably reach out to the other X-Men. Maybe the professor would know why Remy’s in full gear and looking battle-worn at this hour. Why would he go without waking you first?

Remy wavers. He looks heartsick. “Don’ lie t’me, chér.”

“Never,” you agree. You offer the spot next to you in bed with a half-pleading, half-alluring gesture. “Come here. You look like hell, Remy.”

“You…” he starts, then stops. Abruptly, he drops his staff with a rattling thud. Within three strides, he’s in your arms, melting into your embrace. You clutch at him just as fiercely, burying your nose into the crown of his hair. He smells like smoke and dust, but there’s no indication of blood and pain. He simply sags in your grip, his breathing quick and unsteady against your collarbone. His fingers curl weakly into the back of your nightshirt, as if that’s all the strength he can muster.

He’s mumbling, even with his face pressed tightly to the curve of your throat, but you can’t make out much more than your name, over and over.

“Shh, Remy, I’m right here with you,” you whisper against his crown. With a free hand, you reach up to pull out the elastic band holding up his hair, letting it fall in uneven waves. When was the last time he took care of himself? Your Remy loved to indulge in fine-smelling soaps and lavish hair routines, surrounding himself in a luxury he earned himself. His appearance was just as much armor as his coat was. You had never been fooled by his demeanor: his weapon of charm was just as sharply honed as his weapon of playing cards.

Yet it’s the length of his hair that sours the back of your throat with nausea. You run your fingers through it, slowly massaging his scalp in the way that makes him pliant and sleepy. It’s not that you haven’t seen Remy with long hair before; it’s simply the fact that you haven’t seen him with long hair in years. Just last night, his hair had been just long enough to curl at the nape of his neck. You had run your fingers through it and mentioned a haircut, and he had been a deadweight in your lap, humming sleepily in acknowledgement.

You swallow thickly. Either this is not the same Remy you went to sleep next to the night before… or you are missing time.

“You should take a bath, love,” you murmur, gently scratching his scalp. You can feel smudged wetness on the collar of your nightshirt from tears, though he hasn’t made a sound other than a few deep, unsteady breaths. Back when you first got together during missions, the shower was the first place you two could unwind and start to sort through your fading adrenaline rush.

He pulls back from your embrace, just a little, and every word of encouragement dies in your throat at the look on his face. Rage. Betrayal.

Heartbreak.

“You been gon’ awhile, chér,” he says. It’s not an accusation, but there’s a simmering anger beneath that matter-of-fact tone. It’s always ‘chér’ when he doesn’t know which version you are. His eyes burn through you, intent on stripping you raw. You wonder what answers he could possibly expect from you. If it’s answers he wants at all, or rather an apology.

You have to offer him something.

“I —”

“Gambit go lookin’ for you,” he laughs, mirthless. “Got him spending two years lookin’ and you jus’ show up in bed. Like nothin’ happen.”

Two years. There’s a small itch in the back of your mind, like the whisper of a memory raking its claws down your back. There had been an unraveling. Utter destruction. Then it had been you here, you waking up in bed as if nothing had happened.

You blink back at him, struck speechless. You don’t have to offer a word, though, because there’s true anger in his eyes, now.

“I go to de Void,” he says. “I t’ink that’s what it was. Nothin’ left there. Dere’s no life around, hein? Mais, non, not even my wife, only the dead. Ev’rybody dead.”

 His eyes close as if he can ward away the images tormenting his memories. You’re grateful that he can’t see the way your face crumples at that. He went back for you. He had survived the wound, and he found a way back to come for you.

And he had found nothing but death.

“You’re such an idiot,” you choke out. His eyes snap open at that, but you merely cup his face in your hands and draw him in to bump your forehead against his, sucking in a shuddering breath. He is warm and alive under your touch. You didn’t think you could touch him like this again when Nova had been standing above you, prepared to tear you in shreds. “I sent you ahead, but I was coming with you.”

“We stay together,” he tells you. There’s a strain in his voice just as painful as yours, but the way he reaches up to swipe away a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb is careful. As if he’s marveling that he has the chance to touch you at all. “Mais la, don’ tell Gambit he wrote up those vows for nothin’, Mrs. LeBeau.”

“Matched pair,” you whisper back.

“Couple’a aces,” he agrees, and he kisses you just as gently as he wiped away your tears, as if you have all the time in the world.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [3]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: use of reader’s fake name, reader is on the run from her past, remember?, self-doubt, i think that’s it🤷🏻‍♀️

Word Count: 4,045

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night,  you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a  far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be  exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more  and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly  head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

Chapter #03: MARSHAL DADDY

Chapter Summary: It’s difficult to eat dinner with someone who wears a helmet.

  “The greatest act of courage is to be & own all that you are. Without apology. Without excuses & without any masks to cover the truth of who you truly are.” ⏤Unknown

They say it takes three days to build a habit. Three days of an activity then your body and brain begin to crave that routine. You found that to be true, and by the fourth day of living and working for Nevarro's Mandalorian Marshal you were mostly comfortable. You had a schedule at least. In the mornings, you’d get Grogu up and start on breakfast while Mando got ready for work. Like you assumed, Grogu slept in Mando’s bedroom. There was a hammock style set up in a corner of the room surrounded by plush toys, animals, and thick blankets⏤ like a little nest. Then the Marshal would go to work and you’d spend the day with Grogu. Doing light chores around the house when able. Mando would be back from work before the sun went down and you’d have dinner ready for them. If that were all that was involved you’d consider yourself a pro already.

However, like most things in life, it wasn’t quite that simple.

Dinner time still felt rather awkward and you weren’t sure what to do with that. Mando didn’t plan on taking his helmet off around you, information you had gathered not been told, and Grogu was accustomed to seeing his father’s face in the evening. The first night you stayed in the house, you took dinner to your room to eat with the excuse of having to unpack. That’s where you hid until the house grew quiet because you were terrified of stepping out of your room and accidentally seeing Mando’s face. You weren’t sure the logistics of it all, but obviously the stories about Mandalorians not showing their face to the public were true and you’d feel awful if you screwed that up for him.

The next few nights you tried a similar tactic, but you could tell Mando felt odd about the entire scenario. Maybe he felt bad that you were hiding away in a house you technically lived in, or maybe he hated the idea of someone lurking in a back bedroom, but it was obvious this was not going to work. So, you made the excuse that Nima wanted to hang out, and on your third and fourth night you met your friend at the local cantina to drink. Mando preferred to do Grogu’s night time routine anyways so he got the kid into bed. You just had to be there in case he got called into work⏤ which hadn’t actually happened yet.

The point was, your system needed adjusting, but you were still in your first week of work. Obviously there would be issues and hopefully time would be the solution to it all.

“So, is this just where you’re going to live from 7:30 to 9:30 every single day?” Nima asked.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course not.” As a side note, you mumbled under your breath. “I can’t afford to drink that much.” Mando and you had agreed on a more than fair wage, but your salary wasn’t going to go far if you kept blowing it on drinks with Nima. “We’re still figuring things out.”

“Has he offered any solution?”

“I don’t want him to offer. I want to figure it out myself.” You argued. “That’s his  home. I’m intruding. I hate that he feels uncomfortable in any way.”

Nima pointed her glass toward you. “Counter argument. It’s your home now. He’s  paying  you to be there. You shouldn’t feel uncomfortable either.”

“It’s⏤It’s more complicated than that.” You said. “It’s not like he’s doing this just to do it. The helmet thing is part of being Mandalorian, I think, and the only time he is free of that is with his son in the evening. I don’t want to take that from them.”

“Cara says it’s not all Mandalorians.”

“What?”

“Apparently there are different kinds, or something, and they have different beliefs.” Nima replied. The two of you were sitting at the bar on stools you had claimed to be your own this week. Behind you the cantina was buzzing with life and music. This was a popular place to be in the evening, you weren’t alone in your routine. “The Marshal is part of the group that can never reveal their face to any living thing. But he shows it to his son so maybe that’s the exception.” Nima clapped you on the shoulder. “That’s it! You just gotta be adopted by him!”

“I don’t want to be adopted by the Mandalorian.” You snorted and lifted your drink to your lips.

“Why? You can call Marshal Mando ‘daddy’. Mmm, Marshal Daddy.”

You inhaled your sip of spotchka at her words and began to choke. Nima laughed in glee while you tried to cough up the blue, burning liquid that now resided in your lungs. When it was clear enough for you to speak, you glared at her. “Seriously?”

“He’s hardly my type, but there must be something about him considering how worked up the single women in this town get over him.” Nima shrugged. You chuckled in response. She wasn’t wrong. On your first day of being a nanny, Torlee had given you rather a cold greeting and she hadn’t been the only one. There were a handful of random people around town who would give you the stink eye as if you had stolen something from them. “So? What is it? You date guys. Tell me the secret.”

To be honest, you weren’t entirely sure. You had your guesses. There was something about the strong silent type that tended to strike up intrigue, and Mando was nothing if not strong and silent. It was really cute hearing stories about how serious and deadly he could be as Marshal and then watch him hold full conversations with his son at home. Duality of man, you supposed. Then there was his figure alone. Somehow, it left nothing to the imagination while also leaving plenty for a person to imagine. You, and everyone else it seemed, had no idea what he looked like under all that armor, but by the Maker was his shoulder to waist ratio godly.

Personally, you hadn’t caught the bug for him. Probably because, despite knowing he was human, you couldn’t stop picturing large green ears tucked into the helmet. As if Grogu had taken after him somehow. It was ridiculous, and you knew Grogu was adopted, but if imagining an aged up Grogu under the suit kept you from drooling over the man then it was for the best. He was your boss after all.

“I don’t know the secret.” You finally replied. “But if I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.”

Grogu’s eyes had already fluttered close, soft snores drifting from him, but Din couldn’t bring himself to set the child down yet. Peli told him dozens of times that it wasn’t good to let the kid fall asleep in his arms. Children were supposed to learn how to fall asleep on their own. Din figured Grogu could learn that skill later in life. Letting his son fall asleep in his arms was quite possibly his favorite part of their night time routine. It was when Din felt the most at peace.

Din continued to lightly rock Grogu as he stood in place by his bed. A soft buzzing sound had him reaching over to his dresser to pick up the communicator that rested there.

  ‘I’m home! Are you in your room?’

‘Yes.’  Din sent back. Seconds later he could hear the front door lightly click shut followed by quiet footsteps. They passed his bedroom, and Din stared at his communicator a second longer before typing,  ‘Good night.’

  ‘Good night to you too. Hope Grogu didn’t give you too much trouble.’

Din struggled with a response before deciding to just set his communicator aside. You were hardly a stranger at this point, but he still found himself at a loss of words. It didn’t help that the two of you were caught in quite the dilemma. Din didn’t know how to fix this problem. Well, he did, but it wasn't a step he was prepared to take.

The easiest solution was to take his helmet off and show you his face. Easiest in the sense that it was the least complicated, but in terms of how ready he was to handle that⏤ it may be the most difficult solution. Technically speaking, he wasn’t a Mandalorian right now. Apostate. That’s what the Armorer had called him, and he could hardly argue otherwise. Din had taken his armor off with Mayfield in order to find where Moff Gideon had taken his son. Mayfield had seen his face. Then, when he thought he was saying good-bye to his son, he removed his helmet once more. Grogu saw his face. Cara saw his face. Fennec and Bo-Katan. At that point, he knew he should never place it on his head again, but he had.

When the Armor asked him if any living thing had seen his face, he knew what the outcome would be. His creed had been lost. Boba had spoken to him for a long time about the Children of the Watch and about the reputation his helmet carried. According to the older man, there was more to the creed than hiding his face. Boba Fett was someone he respected greatly. His opinion on the matter held great weight, but in the quiet of the night Din still found himself doubtful. The Armorer agreed to redemption after all. If Din returned to Mandalore, bathed in the Living Waters, then he would be Apostate no longer. That had been his plan until Karga offered him a home and job here.

Din's plan had been to turn it down, carry forth with his mission to redeem himself, but upon further thought he didn't want to take Grogu to a potentially poisoned planet. Maybe one day, but for now he wanted peace. He wanted a life with his son, and Nevarro gave that to him. As he hadn’t redeemed himself yet, as he was still Apostate, that meant Din was free to take his helmet off right now. Technically speaking he had no creed to uphold, not until he went on his journey to Mandalore, but he still hadn't been able to bring himself to reveal his face to anyone but his foundling. He told himself it was because he didn't want to break his creed any further than he already had before finding redemption, but sometimes he wondered if that was all.

He spent a majority of his life wearing this helmet. It was a shield that separated him from the rest of the world. To be honest, Din didn't know how to go about his day with his face out for any stranger to see. He never wanted to admit to fear, but this gripped his soul. Up until now, he was able to push the thoughts aside and just live his life with Grogu by his side. It wasn't until you came into the equation that things changed. Now, he was forced to confront these thoughts.

What were his options? Show his face to you or fire you? The latter wasn't a feasible. Grogu had already grown attached, and Din would be lying if he said he hadn’t as well. Having you around was a relief. It had taken a weight off his shoulders he hadn’t been aware he was carrying. Hiring you had been a very, very good decision. Now, he just had to figure out how to keep you.

At the end of the day, he did not regret the choices he made regarding his helmet. If Din had to relive those days he would make the same choices over and over and over again. In his entire life, he never thought he’d find something worth more to him than his creed, but he had been proven wrong. Grogu was more important. His son. Din would reveal his face to the world twelve times over if it meant he could keep Grogu safe. He’d suffer the Armorer’s disdain and be exiled repeatedly if it meant he got to keep his son by his side⏤ help raise him and watch him grow.

Din did not regret the position he found himself in, but he did not know where to go from here. He couldn't expect you to hide away when the sun went down every day. DIn could argue that showing you his face would be for Grogu's benefit. Revealing his full identity to you was for his son. That's a sacrifice he's always been able to make. Still, he struggled.

With a soft sigh, Din set Grogu into his hammock and tucked him in. He snuggled deeper into the space and Din smiled at the action.

Solving this issue would take just one minute of decisive action. Don't think, just act. He was good at that. Din ran a hand through his hair, probably only making it messier, and readjusted his plain shirt and sweatpants. He didn’t have a mirror in his room, wasn’t used to needing one, and for the first time he felt annoyed by that fact. Settling in his resolve, Din stepped out of his room and quietly treaded to your closed door.

Din went to knock, but he found his hand hovering over the wood, 'What if she doesn't like the way I look?'

The thought was involuntary. It shoved to the forefront of his mind without any kind of warning. What? Where had that even come from? His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. That shouldn’t be something he cared about, yet now he couldn't shake it free.

He found you attractive. It was one the first thing he noticed, but he didn’t pay it any attention. His dating history was by no means extensive, but he was still a red blooded man. Din was just used to putting that kind of information to the back of his mind. Especially since Grogu became a part of his life. He hadn’t pursued anyone since he found Grogu. It just hadn’t been a priority to him.

Granted, you were difficult to ignore. He thought you were beautiful, and he thought it was cute that you tended to ramble anytime you got nervous. Plus, watching you with his son was addicting. Din could watch you play and chat with Grogu all day long. That had to be it. He was just hypnotized by the domestic bliss you carried with you. There was nothing more. If he was better at convincing himself of that then this would probably be easier. Din planned to knock, he wanted to, but despite logically working through the issue the question still remained and he found himself embarrassed that he had such a silly concern.

The sound of muffled steps alerted him that a decision needed to be made. His body was moving on its own accord, and he backpedaled silently to slip back in his room. Seconds later he heard your door open followed by the bathroom door opening and closing. Din rubbed his face and shuffled over to his bed to fall into it.

Tomorrow. He’d try again tomorrow.

As your alarm began to blare, you blindly reached out to your nightstand table to silence it. You laid in bed a moment longer, stretching each limb, then sat up with a groan. Around this time in the morning, Mando was getting ready for work and Grogu would be in the process of waking up. You climbed out of bed and wandered out to the bathroom to use the toilet and quickly brush your teeth. Still dressed in your pajamas, you peered into Mando’s bedroom assuming that since the door was open it would be safe.

“Grogu?” You whispered and tiptoed in. Typically, you’d find him chilling in his hammock waiting for you to scoop him up. He was always the cutest and most cuddly when you picked him up in the mornings. Today though, you were greeted with an empty bed. “Huh.”

You turned out of the room and walked down the hall. You could hear Mando softly talking to Grogu, and Grogu’s giggly, mostly nonsensical responses drifting toward you. There was something odd about Mando’s voice, something your mind couldn’t place, but in your morning haze you didn't think to stop and puzzle out why. You stepped through the archway into the kitchen just to freeze.

Standing at the stove was a man.

His back was to you and you could see Grogu’s ears from where he was being held in one arm. He wore a plain gray t-shirt that was thin enough to see the outline of his shoulder blades and back. His sweatpants hung on his hips and that shoulder to waist ratio was undeniably familiar. This was the Mandalorian. You were staring at Mando. His helmet was resting on the counter by the stove. Soft, messy brown hair covered his head. The ends looked like they naturally curled, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the tan skin rising up from his collar to where his hair met the nape of his neck.

You were so in awe that it took a second to realize the situation you were currently in.

This was Mando.

You were staring at Mando.

Helmet less Mando.

You couldn’t hold back the gasp that left you, and you quickly shut your eyes⏤ slapping your hands over them as well for good measure.

"Soran?" You heard Mando call out to you in surprise, but you spun around to leave the room. Unfortunately, in your panic, you misjudged where you stood and instead of rushing through the archway you ran straight into the wall. You yelped in pain and since you were too afraid to pull your hands from your eyes to catch yourself you ended up falling on your ass instead. You grunted, and Mando cursed. “Dank farrik.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You blurted. “I am so sorry, Mando.”

“Are you alright?” Mando’s voice was altered once more to the tone you were most familiar with as it came through the voice modulator. "Soran?" He called out again in concern, and you could feel him kneeling near you. "Are you-"

You shook your head and didn't let him speak. “Mando, I am so sorry. I swear to the Maker, I didn’t see you.” You paused. “That’s sort of a lie. I saw the back of your head. You have brown hair. Really nice brown hair, but definitely brown hair. I swear though, I didn’t see your face.”

“You did nothing wrong.” Mando said. “You can open your eyes.”

His voice sounded like he was wearing his helmet, but you still found yourself nervous. You peeked through one eye between your fingers, hesitant, but when you saw silver beskar you breathed out a sigh of relief. Mando was knelt beside you, one hand resting on the archway you ran into, so his entire frame hovered over you. It still felt odd to see his bare arms, and now with him facing you it was clear to see all of his neck and his collarbones. You were gawking. You needed to stop. Luckily, Grogu was standing in front of you with his hands held over his closed eyes much like you had just been sitting. You chuckled and at the sound he peeked through his own hands.

Finally, you lifted your gaze back to the t-shaped visor, “Mando⏤”

He held up a hand, stopping your flow of words, and spoke firmly, “Are you injured?”

“Not physically. My pride hurts a decent bit.” You admitted. Mando let out a breathy laugh and the sound caught you off guard. You really hadn’t spent all that much time with him let alone spent the time making him laugh. You were mostly with Grogu. “I am sorry though.”

“If anyone is at fault, it’s me. I forgot to warn you I wasn’t working today, and I’m the one out in the open without my helmet.”

“Yeah, but this is your house. You have every right to wander all over this place, helmet less or not.” You replied. Just last night you had been talking to Nima about this issue, and it was growing more problematic by the second. You sighed. “Maybe… Maybe I should move out?” Mando stiffened and slowly tilted his head at you. “I can get a place in town, real close, and just come here in the morning before you leave for work and then leave when you get back.” Grogu crawled into your lap cooing and you wrapped your arms around him. “If you ever need me in the night you can just message me and I’ll run right over.”

Mando didn’t immediately reply and you nervously began to play with Grogu’s ears. The kid giggled and the sound was almost a good distraction for the tension in the air. Finally, Mando spoke up, “Are you... comfortable living here?”

“Am I⏤? Of course!” You said. “You’ve been so welcoming and my room is great and the job is perfect⏤” You shook your head. “You’ve been wonderful, Mando. I just don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable." He replied in a tone that settled the matter. "And if you’re not uncomfortable then,” Mando shrugged, “I think you should stay.”

There was a warmth in his voice that brought a broad smile to your face. Grogu bounced in your lap and he held his hands up toward your face. You leaned in so he could pat your cheeks. “Okay. Besides, how could I stand to be so far away from my bestest buddy?”

Mando pushed to stand and then he held out a hand for you to take. The urge to stare and take in every inch of it was weirdly tempting, but you let him pull you up to your feet. Mando cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m actually glad you’re up. Grogu wants something for breakfast, and he’s unhappy with all my attempts.”

“Egg.” Grogu blurted, staring up at you. “Egg. Egg. Egg.”

“He sounds like a Jawa.” Mando mumbled. “I made eggs, but he didn’t want them.”

You glanced over at the stove where a frying pan sat by a carton of eggs. Grogu’s high chair had a small bowl of untouched scrambled eggs. You chuckled. “I think he wants an omelet. I made it for him yesterday and he loved it.”

“Egg!” Grogu agreed.

“Here, I can make it.” You held Grogu out to Mando who took him. The Mandalorian murmured something to his son in Mando’a that you didn’t catch. It reminded you that you meant to talk to Mando about this. Grogu used a handful of words in that language, but because you didn’t recognize them it made communication difficult. You had been working with Grogu on words in Basic, and you’d love to add some Mando’a vocabulary to it. You just needed to know it first. You went to the fridge to pull out cheese and a few vegetables that you knew Grogu liked.

Mando stood behind you, leaning against the kitchen counter top with his son in his arms, and you glanced over your shoulder only once to admire him.

“What?” He questioned.

“Sorry. It’s just so weird to see you out of the suit of armor.” You chuckled.

“Bad weird?”

“No,” You replied quickly, “It just ruins the mental image I had of green skin and big ears.”

Mando laughed again, “Sorry to disappoint.”

“I’ll just have to learn to live with it, I suppose.”

The kitchen was filled with Grogu laughing as his dad tickled him and the sizzling of breakfast. Typically, you were here alone wrestling the green bean while trying to make him food. It wasn’t overly difficult and you still enjoyed it, but there was something kind of calming from having Mando here as well and that caught you off guard. The lack of his full suit of armor might play a role in that. In the early morning light wearing his pajamas and playing with his son, he looked so… human.

“I was wondering, do you, uh, have plans today?”

You flipped the omelets in the skillet then looked over at Mando with a grin. “Well, until five minutes ago I thought I was on Grogu duty.”

“Right.” Mando blurted. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner⏤”

“I’m joking, Mando. What were you thinking?”

He paused briefly, “Well, there’s a traveling market here today. Local vendors and some from neighboring worlds." Mando said. “I can show you around. If you're interested that is."

You finished with both omelets and went to grab a set of plates. “I’d love that!” You set both plates on the counter by Mando. “Sounds fun. Here. You boys have breakfast and I’ll go get ready for the day. Yeah?” Mando pushed off the counter and pointed to the omelet with a slight tilt of his head. You nodded. “It’s yours.” You point to his, then his son’s omelet. “You, Grogu.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not a big breakfast eater, don’t worry.” You shrugged. “Take your time too, don’t rush. I’m gonna take a shower this morning so you and Grogu can enjoy.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

Excited for the day, you hurried upstairs to get ready. You were interested to see the small marketplace become more lively with outside visitors. You were sure the lively city was even more bright today. Plus, this would be an opportunity to get to know your boss a little bit better. Maybe if the two of you were a little more comfortable with one another then hiding from him in your room during dinner time would be a bit less awkward.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Axes and O's

Masterlist

Part 1

Pairing: Syverson x reader x Walter Marshall (technically college AU)

Summary: Sy invited you and Walter to his family's cabin, where you get to spend a few days alone with them before the holidays.

Word count: 8250

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, fingering (vaginal, anal - f receiving), oral sex (f and m receiving), penetrative sex (vaginal, anal, DP - f receiving), very very soft!femdom (? Don't ask me how, really), near-safeword experience, still that astonishingly strong bromance, and polyam vibes.

A/N: Alright well, now, hello. Here we are with the sequel to "Don't knock it till you try it", where we make another very decent attempt to stuff every available hole with as much man as we can handle... No? Not the right kind of introduction? Alright well just read the damn thing, then, I guess?!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81 @littlefreya @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss @winter2112rose @changenameno @wa-ni (I can't tag either of you, tumblr won't let me...)

There was something soothing about the predictability of the situation; you had asked the boys to turn the heat in the car up, they complained that it was already a sauna in there. It wasn’t. And you were freezing. You pulled the sleeve of your sweater up to show Sy the goosebumps on your arm, to which he responded by reluctantly turning the heat up a little bit.

“How can she be cold?” Walter grumbled from behind the wheel while Sy pulled his sweater over his head.

“Here,” Sy said, rolling his eyes, “in case your Majesty still isn’t warm enough.” He tossed the sweater at you, and you contently pulled it over your head. Walter’s sweater had been serving as a blanket for about an hour now, and with the addition of Sy’s, and the few extra degrees on the heater, you were finally comfortably warm.

“Good,” Walter mumbled, “because I’m not taking off anything else for you in this car.” It was the ‘in this car’ that made you chuckle.

“That’s a shame,” you said coyly, batting your eyelashes at him in the rearview mirror as you leaned over and put your arms around Sy’s neck. “Would you?”

He turned his head and sighed. “I have before, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, but I’m sure you got something in return,” Walter responded, “and I don’t think that’s happening today.” Oh, he was so fucking right about that… You’d freeze to death, even with him there.

The rest of the drive, you sat in the back, finally nice and warm to the point where you thought you might actually be able to fall asleep — and then all of that came to a very abrupt end when Sy had Walter pull over and he turned towards you, handing you a thermos.

“Here, sugar,” he said with a faint smile, “brought you some tea to keep you warm. We’re going out to get ourselves a tree.”

Get a tree? What did they mean ‘get a tree’? You were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by… Well, fine, surrounded by trees, but surely they didn’t mean they were going to… Before you had even finished that thought, the guys grabbed their coats off the backseat — which would be missed greatly as they’d been keeping your feet warm — and hopped out of the truck.

Either it was completely coincidental that it had stopped snowing, or the guys had decided to get the tree now because it had stopped, but either way, you were happy, because you could see them clearly; bickering for a moment before making a decision, and making their way towards the tree of their choice.

It wasn’t until the fourth or fifth swing of the axe that you realized you were biting your lip and holding your breath. It had to be illegal for them to look this sexy while chopping down a tree, right? You could watch them do this all day, but unfortunately, they were done after about fifteen minutes.

“Nice show, boys,” you said as Sy got behind the wheel and Walter took the passenger seat, “can we go now?”

Sy looked over his shoulder once and grinned. “Sure thing, sugar.”

The rest of the drive would have taken about ten minutes, if Sy hadn’t managed to take a wrong turn. Neither of you were going to let him forget about that anytime soon.

“Finally,” you fake-yawned when you pulled into the driveway of the cabin about thirty minutes later.

“Shut up,” Sy grumbled, “or I’m shutting the water off when you’re washing your hair tonight.” Now there was a serious threat...

Sy took you inside while Walter took care of the tree — which included a pretty lengthy process of making it as snow-less as humanly possible on the front porch. You secretly thanked the universe that he was smart enough to think about that beforehand, because you were fairly sure that you’d have been the one mopping half the house if he hadn’t.

The cabin was very nice. Big, spacious — it had to be to accommodate Sy’s family — and just luxurious enough to make you wonder how the hell...

“I have this uncle,” Sy simply said. Of course. There was always an uncle! Sometimes a weird one, like in normal families like your own, and sometimes apparently a scandalously rich one.

“Thank him for me,” Walter said as he walked through the door, dragging the tree behind him. It was on a blanket. Maybe the guys were smarter than you occasionally gave them credit for.

“Will do. Let’s get that tree up, and then I can give you guys the tour?” You and Walter both nodded.

The boys had the Christmas tree up in no time, and you watched them from the couch — after rolling yourself into a blanket burrito with a throw you found hanging over the armrest of the couch. It looked like something Sy’s grandmother or mother had made.

He laughed when you asked about it. “My cousins and sisters all helped. They still spend the holidays knitting or... the other thing, with the one little hook-thing, I don’t know—”

“Crocheting,” you filled in, “continue.”

“Right. That. Every year they make a few more squares to add to that thing. That’s why it’s so big. You’re welcome to use it, but please do be careful with it.” The way he looked at the blanket was endearing. You knew Sy as a guy who cared a lot about family, whereas Walter had just about the worst relationship with his folks you could possibly imagine. It was no wonder he’d be spending the holidays with the Syversons instead of with his own family.

“Eh, Sy,” Walter said, and he pointed at the small stack of wood next to the fireplace.

“Right,” Sy replied, “my uncle mentioned something about being low on firewood. Apparently, the stash outside is not what it should be, either. We’ll get to that in a bit.” He sat down in front of the fireplace and within a few minutes, a small fire was burning.

Sy got up and gestured at you and Walter to grab your bags and follow him, and he led you up the stairs. The second floor of the cabin was also gorgeous, and a lot bigger than you’d have expected. The rooms weren’t big, per se, but they were very nice.

“You can take my room,” Sy said to you, while pointing to a door to his left. “If you don’t mind, we’ll share the main bathroom — I’d like to keep the place as clean as possible for when my family gets here, otherwise there’s no way ma will ever let me go here early ever again.” You and Walter both nodded, and you had trouble stifling a gasp when you stuck your head into the bathroom. It was absolutely gorgeous!

“My uncle’s room has an en-suite with a hot tub and a sauna,” Sy huffed when you commented on how nice it looked. “Me and my dad remodeled this one two years ago. Ticked every box on ma’s and aunt Jen’s crazy list of demands.” It was always fun to watch Sy as he talked about something like this. He was clearly proud of his work, and he could get so cocky, but for some reason he wore it well.

Over the past few months, you’d come to find Walter much more sensitive than you initially thought. He was considerate and kind, and sometimes really surprised you with kind gestures — like the time he’d sent you flowers when he’d noticed you were feeling off that week. The card had just read ‘hey, friend’, but you knew they were his — which was later confirmed and rewarded, of course.

Of course, you’d seen him get a little arrogant. One particular instance came to mind when Walter had unexpectedly bested Sy’s bench press PR. Sy was a sore loser, and Walter was not a very nice winner at all, which meant Sy had moped around all night while Walter showed you that he didn’t do cocky with even a shred of the amount of grace Sy did. It really should have bothered you that neither of them had shown their best sides that night, but they’d been half naked, so it was safe to say your critical thinking skills had been severely impaired at the time.

“Sugar?” Sy waved his hand in front of your face.

“Yeah?” you asked, snapping out of your memory, back to reality. Both guys were looking at you with a slight hint of worry in their eyes.

“Did you hear what I just said?” Sy laughed when you shook your head. “I’ll grab the boxes of decorations from storage, can you get started on the tree while we go out to get some firewood?”

You nodded and followed the boys downstairs again, where Sy disappeared into a closet to retrieve some boxes.

“Alright, knock yourself out with the tree, I’ll put the rest up where it’s supposed to go, later.”

You were actually excited to get started on decorating the tree, and then fate decided to steer your interest in a different direction; the spot where the guys were chopping wood was clearly visible from the window, and good God, was the view distracting... After a few failed attempts to stick to putting lights on the tree, you gave up and stood by the window.

There was something about these guys swinging an axe that made you feel hotter than the puny little fire in the fireplace ever could. You and your friends regularly joked about how entirely un-feminist that strangely primal urge to swoon over big men with big muscles was. It was nice to feel protected — and Walt and Sy had proven themselves very useful in the club on several occasions, and all your girlfriends loved them because they were very intimidating pretend-boyfriends, and therefore absolutely came in handy when the time came to fend off handsy, horny drunks.

Soon, those rational thoughts and memories faded to the background and were replaced by some of your favorite moments from the nothing-short-of-magical nights you had shared with Sy or Walt — both of them together hadn’t happened since last summer, and you had spent most of the past half year thinking you were okay with that, but there was this feeling deep inside you that absolutely wouldn’t mind...

“Well, well, well...” Fuck.

“Why are we doing all the work while she just gets to stare at us?”

“Was she staring at us?”

“I think she was...”

“Now, why on earth would she do that...”

“Oh, because the two of you are so incredibly hot, I could just drop to my knees right here...” you sneered while rolling your eyes. “Make the fire a little bigger, would you, Sy? And go take a shower. You both stink.”

“Alright, that looks amazing, sugar!” Sy said when he came downstairs again. The whole shower had taken him about ten minutes, in which you’d managed to make some serious progress on the tree, and now he was back to distract you with his grey sweatpants and the old t-shirt he slept in. He pulled you into his arms and pressed his lips to your temple. “Think we can pull off a—”

“Absolutely not, Sy,” you laughed as you pushed him away. “We’re just going to hang out, watch a movie, go to bed early. Okay?” It wasn’t exactly what you were after, but whatever they wanted to do couldn’t happen now.

Sy groaned, clearly disappointed, and you felt his breath on your ear. “Come on, sexy,” he whispered, his fingers digging possessively into your hip, but despite enjoying his attention very much, you turned away.

“Nope.” You smiled at the way he looked at you; he made no effort at all to hide his disappointment and frustration. It made you feel strangely powerful to realize you had that kind of effect on him — on both of them, if you were being honest.

“Fine,” he huffed, “let’s get the rest of these decorations up, then.”

By the end of it, after another hour or so of getting the cabin holiday-ready while employing your absolute favorite tactic of conspicuously putting your ass in Sy’s line of sight — and Walter’s, once he came out of the shower and joined you — you were fairly certain those Christmas decorations weren’t the only things that were... up.

“My turn to shower,” you decided when Sy announced that you were done, and without waiting for an answer, you hurried up the stairs. Truth be told, all of your hard work turning the boys on hadn’t left you unaffected, either.

While the hot water warmed you up and slowly chipped away at the tension in your back and shoulders, your thoughts ended up with those memories from before again, making you wish you weren’t alone in the shower right now. Without thinking, you put a hand between your legs and ran a finger along your slit, dipping slightly between your lips. You were soaking wet — you had been nearly all day, and it was your own fault for taking on this trip wearing your favorite toy; a small, stainless steel butt plug with a crystal base. It was surprisingly comfortable, even after all this time, and you had no intention of taking it out just yet, even though you knew the next few hours would be absolute torture. You brought your fingers to your clit and quickly worked yourself to an orgasm, knowing it would only make it that much more difficult to keep the promise you’d made to yourself: tonight, the guys would have to come to you, not the other way around.

It was probably a good thing you weren’t going to be sleeping in a tent, minimizing the chance of having to knock on either of their doors for warmth.

You made your way downstairs after about half an hour, wearing your favorite pajama shorts and a tank top. As soon as you stepped into the living room, the boys groaned.

“Absolutely not,” Walter muttered, while Sy took the less subtle approach — as usual — and outright told you to ‘put those tits away, sugar’ because they were, according to him, very distracting. Good.

You politely declined his request and sat down on the couch between them, snuggling into Sy’s side while putting your feet in Walter’s lap. It was all part of the plan; you already had Sy on edge — which wasn’t a very impressive feat — but Walter usually took a bit more work. A bit.

The guys picked the movie — their choice surprised you; it was a cheesy Halmark Christmas movie. The kind that you loved, but they certainly didn’t. Were they just trying to get you in a good mood? It sure as hell was working...

You turned a little and let your legs fall open a bit, biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from laughing as you watched Walter clench his jaw. You were 100% flashing him right now, what with those pajama shorts being so... short, and everything.

His fingers trailed lightly up and down your shin, while Sy’s hand rested on your stomach, and it was difficult to pay attention to the movie when your thoughts kept drifting to all those other things you knew those hands could do.

Aside from the horrible tension, you were comfy and content with the situation, and you could tell the guys were, too. You turned on your side again, making sure to brush your foot past Walter’s groin, and a hand dangerously close to Sy’s. Completely accidentally, of course. The boys groaned.

“Mean,” Walter snarled, and Sy was quick to agree.

When the movie was over, you announced you were going to bed, not giving the guys any indication that they should come with you — although you weren’t exactly worried about spending the night alone.

Doubt started to set in when you checked the alarm clock next to the bed. It was almost midnight, and it seemed your plan had backfired after all. After deciding it was pointless to stay in bed, tossing and turning — and cursing yourself for being so stupid for thinking you were special enough to these guys to be able to play with them the way you did and have them come running to you — you got up and snuck across the hallway to the bathroom to get yourself a glass of water.

Just when you were about to walk back to your room, you heard footsteps in the hallway, and decided to wait a beat before going back to bed.

“Guess we had the same idea, then?”

“I suppose. You gonna tell me to back off?”

A gruff chuckle that could belong to either of them follows the question. “No. Are you gonna tell me to back off?”

The way they challenged each other made you weak in the knees, and you quickly gathered your courage to step out of the bathroom.

“Maybe you both need to go back to your rooms,” you said, faking a yawn as you tried to walk to the bedroom door — which was difficult because the guys were leaning on either side of it, and as soon as you were standing between them, their arms appeared in front of you, blocking your way.

“Now, sugar,” Sy said, leaning in until you felt his breath on your ear, “if that’s what you want, you know we’ll go. I’m just fairly sure…” A single finger trailed lightly up your spine, and you shivered.

They stepped closer to you until their chests hit your shoulders, but they dropped their arms. Without hesitation, you pushed the bedroom door open and walked into the room. Much to your surprise, they stayed put.

You glanced over your shoulder and pouted. “Are you guys coming or what?”

Walter beat Sy by a fraction of a second, and surprised you with a harsh hand on your hip while he growled at his friend to hold off for a second. Then, a few swift smacks landed on your ass. “That’s for teasing me the way you did. I noticed your little surprise, too. Are you still wearing that?”

Instead of answering, you let your shorts fall to the floor and stepped out of them as you made your way to the foot of the bed, where you spread your legs slightly and bent over.

“Well fuck me,” Sy stammered when he saw what Walter had been getting at.

You looked at him over your shoulder and gave him the sweetest smile. “That was the plan, sugar,” you purred. “Well… half of it, anyway.”

Walter slipped a finger into your pussy without warning and whistled through his teeth. “Fucking hell,” he muttered. “How long have you been wearing that thing?”

“Since this morning,” you admitted shyly — why were you feeling shy all of a sudden? Embarrassed, even, possibly? Were you really even entertaining the thought that they wouldn’t like it?

“Goddamn, baby…” Sy sounded impressed, and a bit of your confidence returned to you.

“No wonder you’re soaking wet,” Walter said, his tone nearly as teasing as that finger that he slowly pumped into you, leaving you squirming and clenching your muscles in a feeble attempt to get more friction. “God, you need it, don’t you. Too bad, love. You made me wait, now you can wait.” You whined as he pulled his finger back, hated him for the way he chuckled when you leaned into his touch as he swirled his fingers around your clit a few times. “Get on your knees for me, love.”

You refused, not realizing how much it hadn’t been a question, and soon you felt a hand on your shoulder that pulled your upper body off the bed as he made you stand before him. Sy watched quietly from the corner of the room, clearly amused.

Walter looked directly at you, searching your eyes for any sign of discomfort. “No flamingoes?” he asked sincerely, and you shook your head.

“None whatsoever,” you said with a beaming smile. You heard Sy chuckle in the corner. You used the same safe word with both of them — not that things typically got so rough you really needed it, but it was good to come prepared.

Walter gave you a quick kiss before ordering you to your knees again, and this time, you obeyed, glancing up at him with hopeful eyes, desperate to hear your favorite words — but he denied you. Instead, he nodded approvingly when you raised your hands, curling your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear.

Before doing anything else, though, you turned to Sy and batted your eyelashes at him, beckoning him to come closer.

“The only thing more fun than sucking dick, is sucking two,” you said nonchalantly.

“I’m happy to watch,” Sy said with a wink.

“Liar,” you snorted. “Now get over here.”

Having both of them towering over should have felt intimidating to say the least — instead, it just made you incredibly excited. There was even a slight chance you were a little too enthusiastic when you pulled their pants down and grabbed their cocks, because the boys chuckled.

“Goddamn, sugar, we don’t deserve you,” Sy groaned when you looked up at him — then hissed when you gently rubbed your thumb along the underside of his tip.

Walter was the less patient one today, grabbing your head and pulling you towards him. With a defiant look in your eyes, you stared up at him, but he wasn’t having any of it. A decisive ‘no’ and demanding ‘open’ were enough to make you listen.

You stuck your tongue out and carefully licked a salty bead of precum from his tip, relishing the not-amused eyebrow he raised in response to your teasing. In his defense: his instructions had been clear. In your defense: you were in a mood.

“Hm, not as well-trained as I thought, I see,” Sy chuckled, struggling to keep a moan off his lips when you moved your hand lazily over his length. You shot a mischievous glance up at the boys, clearly siding with Sy in this one.

“Oh, we knew she was a handful, right?” Walter laughed. The sound turned into a low moan when you finally took the head of his cock into your mouth for a moment.

“No, you two are a handful,” you quipped before teasing Walter again.

“Mouthful,” he corrected with a wink, finally having lost all of his patience, thrusting into your mouth. You were still holding him at the base, meaning he only made it about halfway in. Walter’s hand gently closed around your wrist, his eyes quietly asking you to let go — and you obliged.

It was tough to pay any attention to Sy while Walter pushed his entire length down your throat, but he solved that problem himself by thrusting lazily into your hand. You felt his eyes on you, felt his cock twitch in your hand, and you fought back a chuckle.

Sy had never struck you like a man who got off on watching his girl suck another man’s cock — apparently you’d been wrong.

He’d also never come across as much of an impatient, whiny, little bitch. You’d been wrong about that, too.

“You were right, sugar, I’m not happy to watch,” he growled after a while, and you retreated for a moment so you could look at him. He didn’t take kindly to the smug look on your face, because he was a lot less subtle in his… persuasive techniques than Walter had been. That is to say; he pulled you towards him and took advantage of your surprised gasp by shoving his cock into your mouth.

From then on, you tried your best to divide your attention adequately between the two equally demanding guys, and to your surprise you managed really well. It helped that they both wanted it roughly the same way — but there was one of them who just couldn’t see a blowjob as a full meal…

“I’m done with this,” Sy hissed after a while, but Walter groaned.

“I’m not,” he complained. It was cute, in a way. Walter had made sure you knew how much he loved it when you gave him head, and you felt bad for him that he didn’t get his fill. Now, if only there were a solution to this heartbreaking problem…

Sy hauled you off the floor with disturbingly little effort and bent you over, grinding his hips against your ass just because he could. You hesitated before taking Walter into your mouth again. This particular setup hadn’t exactly worked out last time.

When Sy pushed into you from behind, you moaned, relishing the feeling of the skin-on-skin contact. You’d ditched condoms with both of them a while ago — something the guys had been a little happier about than you would have liked. Sure, neither of them had ever complained about using them, and you yourself were perfectly happy that they weren’t in play anymore, but still…

You allowed the rhythm of Sy’s thrust guide the movements of your mouth around Walter’s cock, which worked out well. Last time, you had at least felt somewhat in control — over Sy, at least — but now that they both towered over you, tall and dominant like never before… Your legs trembled, and you couldn’t stop moans from spilling freely over your lips.

Every last one of Sy’s movements reminded you not only of the cock in your throat — which was admittedly pretty hard to miss to begin with — but also of the butt plug you were still wearing, which intensified every sensation, every thrust…

Your fingers dug into Walter’s hip in an attempt to steady yourself — not just physically — and before long you gave up on the blowjob, letting your hand do the work instead while you muttered profanities under your breath. Until Walter pulled you up.

“God, darling, you’re a mess,” he said with a smile, a hint of concern hidden somewhere deep in his eyes. He pulled your tank top over your head and used it to clean your face up a bit. “You’re not crying, right?”

You shook your head, and opened your mouth, but before you could speak, Walter reached around you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you against him, using the other to push Sy off. “Stop.”

Of course, he did stop — you’d never for so much as a single second expected him not to — and he stepped closer until you felt his chest against your back.

“I really thought I’d be okay with it,” you whispered. “With being used like that, but…”

“Sorry if we were too rough on you, sugar,” Sy said, pressing his lips to your shoulder.

“Not too rough,” you said, with both a slight tremble and a sharp edge to your soft voice, “too mean. I’m your friend, not your fucktoy.”

“Right,” Sy said, and you could just hear the grin in his voice, “you may be a whore, but you’re our whore.”

That earned him a slap on the shoulder, both from you and Walter. “Oh, right,” you sneered, “as if you two sluts have a right to talk.”

Sy wrapped his arms around you and kissed your neck. “No, we certainly don’t.” Another soft kiss sent a shiver down your spine.

“I say we get her into bed and show her how much we care about her,” he said to Walter, who smiled deviously in response. The concern in his eyes hadn’t quite subsided — in fact it was as present as it had been before — but there was a hint of careful optimism that they could turn this around.

“So very, very much,” Walter said, slowly trailing his fingers over your upper arms, apparently taking the involuntary twitch of the corner of your mouth into a half-smile as a sign that you were okay to keep going.

Two pairs of devilish blue eyes looked at you as they slowly pushed you back towards the bed.

You managed to suppress a chuckle as you considered how incredibly in-character these two behaved, even — perhaps especially — now that they had committed their time and attention to making you feel cared for. Walter held you in his arms, pulling you closer every time his lips landed somewhere on your body, dedicating an indecent amount of time on your neck, no doubt leaving marks all over your skin. He relished your moans, whines and the sight of your writhing body, every plea that fell from your lips luring a chuckle from his.

Compare that to subtlety-of-a-freight-train Sy, who dove straight for your chest, wrapping his lips around your nipple while his hand impatiently rushed between your legs.

“Is he any good at that?” Walter whispered in your ear, and you laughed.

“Not nearly as good as you,” you replied, looking down just in time to see Sy raise his gaze to meet yours, squinting slightly in protest of your words. Unfortunately for him, there wasn’t so much as an iota of a lie to your statement. Hands were Walter’s territory. “There’s something he does better, though.” The sweetness of your own voice surprised you, and the smile on your face seemed to tick Sy off almost as much as you had planned.

“Now, sugar, if you’re asking me what I think you’re asking me,” he said slowly, moving his lips to your ear, “ask me. Nicely.”

He clearly hadn’t caught on to the little switch in dynamic your near-run-in with your safe word had caused — but he’d find out soon enough. A single firm push was enough to relocate him from the bed to the floor next to the bed, and you sat up on the edge of the mattress as he tried to get up.

“Down.” You warned him with your eyes more than with your voice, and to your surprise, he stayed down on his knees instead of getting up and hovering over you like he normally would — and you’d normally let him.

It was obvious from the way the muscles in his jaw tightened and the fierce eyes that stared up at you defiantly, that Sy was neither used to this nor made for this, but Walter’s hand on your thigh gave you the courage to lay down the law that the quiet man next to you had caught on to already.

“The two of you forfeited your right to boss me around back there,” you said, nodding towards the foot of the bed. There was something addictive about the sight of Sy on his knees in front of you. Below you. “I’m in charge now.”

Behind you, Walter groaned. There was a hint of a chuckle to it, but you didn’t get much time to think about it, because you swiftly became preoccupied with the movement you felt as he moved to sit behind you.

“Yes ma’am,” Sy said, his signature grin slowly spreading over his face, “as you wish.” He hooked his arms around your thighs and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed before grabbing each leg behind your knee and pushing them up.

The new position forced you to lean back, where Walter was waiting for you, his arms eagerly wrapping around you, providing some much-appreciated warmth, and you unconsciously snuggled into him. The sight made Sy chuckle as he looked up at you, one eyebrow cocked and still grinning.

“May I?” he asked. The remark had a sarcastic exterior, but the defiant glint in his eyes was nowhere near as strong as you’d expected it to be.

“I don’t know what you’re waiting for,” you said with a smile. “Oh, and Sy… No teasing. I want to cum.”

He hissed another ‘yes ma’am’ through gritted teeth before deciding he’d better get to work.

“Don’t push it,” Walter whispered in your ear, pinching your nipple to drive his point home. Of course, it was foolish of him to think you’d even be able to pay attention to him while Sy was working his magic so effortlessly that you’d almost think he’d been eating pussy for breakfast every day for the last five years. Actually…

Walter made you whine softly when he put his lips on your neck again, his hands roaming your chest and giving your nipples some well-deserved and overdue attention, and he chuckled softly. He lived for the soft, high-pitched sounds of pleasure you let out when he drove you wild with nothing but his hands.

Sy, on the other hand, made it his mission to make you scream — preferably his name, but he wasn’t exactly picky — and swear, and to no one’s surprise but much to your satisfaction, he managed every single time. This time was no exception; as soon as you felt his tongue against your pussy and his fingers eagerly tracing a line along your slit, finding your entrance, you hissed.

“Fuck,” you whispered, already out of breath from sheer anticipation, your body begging for Sy to make quick work of this like you knew he could, so you could move on to fulfil your other burning needs… Only he didn’t.

Just as you were about to remind him of your order to not tease you, you realized something else was the matter. Something else entirely. He wasn’t stalling. He wasn’t teasing. He was… struggling.

A tiny little sliver of a thought crossed your mind for a split-second, begging you to taunt him and ask him what was taking so damn long, but you mentally crushed it with a bat and moved on to more productive ideas as you felt Sy lean his head against your thigh.

He sighed. “You messed with my head, sugar,” he admitted.

“Only because you let me,” you scoffed. “Sy there’s no one who does what you do. Now show me you’re the man I know you to be and finish me off, because I need it.”

“Careful what you wish for, sugar,” he said with a grin, looking much more like the guy you knew than he had a moment before.

From the moment he put his mouth back on you, it was game over, and you knew you were about to get everything you had asked for — and so much more. You moaned when he pushed two fingers into you, reminding you — just for a moment — about the time you’d asked him about that. Because he sure as hell didn’t need his hands to get you where you needed to be, so why involve them at all? The simple answer had been that he liked the way you squeezed him when he pushed you over that edge. You’d called him a smug bastard, and you still stood by that assessment. In fact, he was well on his way to prove your point to you again.

“Fuck, Sy!” you cried out when a flick of his tongue finished you off, and you felt your muscles spasm uncontrollably around his fingers. It was annoying that you were aware of it now, because you knew it made him feel extra good about himself.

Your moment of ecstasy was cut short by a pained grunt and a sharp smack on your wrist from Walter. “That hurts, darling,” he growled, gesturing at his arm, where you’d dug your fingernails into his skin — not deep enough to draw blood, but still leaving quite a mark.

Sy chuckled, and without taking his mouth off you, he looked up — at Walter, not at you. This look that they shared, you decided even though you could only see half of it, you did not like one bit — an educated guess that was confirmed when Walter reached for your legs, pulling them back even further.

“Still good?” he asked you while Sy looked around in search of something before checking the drawer of the nightstand and triumphantly retrieving the bottle of lube you’d stashed there. This time, it was not your hair-lube. It wasn’t your first rodeo, after all.

“Sure,” you answered Walter, sounding far more sarcastic than you intended, “being manhandled like this is my favourite pastime.”  

“It’s not?” Walter asked, not buying into your act.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Sy said, diving back between your legs before you had a chance to say something snarky in response to his uncalled-for attitude. He licked the length of your pussy before settling at your clit, making you moan and roll your hips against him impatiently. It wasn’t until you felt his fingers move towards the base of the butt plug you were still wearing that you remembered he’d grabbed the lube at all — and the thought disappeared as quickly as it had surfaced because Sy never took his mouth off your pussy.

You moaned loudly when he took it out and even louder when a finger slowly took its place. “Oh God,” you said, leaning your head back against Walter’s shoulder while you tried to make sense of everything you were feeling.

“Nope, just me, sugar,” Sy said, making part of you want to kick him in the head. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be possible because of the iron grip Walter had on your legs. Shame. Besides, why would you even want to kick him when he was about to make you cum again? The answer to that question would have to wait, because yet another expertly executed move toppled you over the edge into bliss for the second time that night — and judging by the look on Sy’s face as he used the convenient moment of relaxation to work a second finger into your ass, it was nowhere near the last time that night you’d be trembling under his touch.

Your thought was confirmed when you heard Walter speak up, his voice breathy and drenched with lust: “One more.”

“Orgasm or finger?” you asked without thinking, to which his reaction was simply: ‘yes.’

Of course, Sy, diligent as ever, got to work immediately, flicking his tongue over your clit like it was his job, while his fingers pumped into your ass. Walter trusted you to keep your legs apart, letting go of you purely so his hands could get back to giving your boobs the attention he thought they deserved.

It was impossible to put into words how much you enjoyed being the center of attention, and if they hadn’t realized that by now, they probably wouldn’t — but you’d find that extremely hard to believe, especially with the way you were reaching for and grasping at both of them while Sy pulled a third orgasm from you. And then a fourth. And a fifth.

He didn’t stop until you were gasping for air in Walter’s arms. “I’m tapping out,” you panted, sucking in quick breaths between words.

Sy laughed and, without pulling his fingers out of your ass, got up to kiss you. His beard was wet, you could taste yourself on his tongue, and as far as you were concerned, you might as well have died and gone to heaven. When you opened your eyes, so did he, and you could see the longing in his eyes; a violently burning need that you immediately recognized.

It just so happened that, over the past six months, Sy had never actually gained backstage access, so to speak. It had never come up, and the one time he did ask about it had been so close to this trip that you’d denied him, hoping his first time — fine, his first time with you — would strike a poetic parallel with Walter’s.

“Do I ask, sugar?” he said almost mockingly, but still gentle enough that his remark just served as a reminder that you were still in charge.

“No,” you said, waiting just long enough to continue to give the man some idle hope, “you fucking beg for it.” Speaking of parallels with last time…

They were both going to have to swallow their pride — it just so happened that Walter had a hell of a lot less of it than Sy did. Alternatively, he just had far less trouble getting over himself.

“I swear to God I’m going to die if I don’t get to fuck you,” he growled in your ear. “Please let me.”

You bit your lip and giggled before looking at Sy with a raised eyebrow. His turn.

“Sugar, I’ve been dreaming about that sweet ass of yours” — his tone was calm, but his eyes were pleading with you in the most endearing way — “would you please finally let me find out…” His voice trailed off.

You looked at him for a moment before nodding, and you got up.

“He’s been missing out?” Walter asked while he took your place at the edge of the bed before grabbing your hips and turning you around, so you were facing him. Sy scoffed and mumbled something inaudible that you decided to pay no attention to.

You were too busy climbing on top of Walter, anyway, straddling his thighs but in no hurry to get railed just yet. He inhaled sharply when you reached between your bodies to grab his cock. That lengthy session with you as the sole focus of it had definitely taken its toll on them — neither of them were probably going to last very long.

You kissed Walter, slipping your tongue past his lips while you got up on your knees to allow him space to line himself up with your entrance. He moaned when you lowered yourself onto his cock slowly, taking your time to enjoy every inch of him.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he grunted softly when you finally sat all the way down.

You shrugged. “Your fault.”

“Excuse me?” Sy said, his tone offended. “I want my credit.”

“Credit, my ass,” you teased, hoping Sy would take that for the invitation you intended it to be. Luckily, he did.

You dug your nails into Walter’s shoulders when Sy pushed into your ass, not because he was hurting you or anything — you wouldn’t have endured that, and they knew that. Not that they had any intention of hurting you to begin with… — but mostly because you were completely overwhelmed by the feeling of the two of them inside of you.

A soft chuckle escaped you when you noticed Walter taking on the role Sy had last summer; studying your face for signs of discomfort and checking in with you to see if you were alright.

“I’m good,” you said after letting out a very dramatic sigh, causing Walter to look at you as if you were lying. “Fucking amazing. Promise. Kinda missed this.” You swallowed hard and relaxed into the feeling of being completely filled with cock. “Whew!”

The guys both laughed, which made you kind of want to smack them — but you didn’t. Because you were nice. Right?

“As long as neither of you has ever taken a dick up the ass, I don’t wanna hear it,” you warned them, and the laughter died down suspiciously quickly. Still, even though you were convinced that they were convinced that you were okay, they didn’t move.

“You’re in charge,” Walter said, shrugging indifferently and taking the slap to the shoulder in stride. Apparently, it was worth it to see you get a little worked up over their shenanigans. Needless to say, you did not agree with that assessment.

“I came on this trip to get railed,” you said, “fuckin’ make it happen!”

It was all the encouragement they needed; Walter lifted you out of his lap slightly to give himself room to move, and Sy pulled back a little, and precisely those two small moves made it very obvious to you that you’d made a huge mistake. Quite possibly the best mistake of your life, but a mistake, nonetheless.

You couldn’t help but scream when they both slammed into you, practically knocking the air out of your lungs. Walter fell back onto the mattress with you in his arms, and you let him drag you along without protest.

“Relax,” he whispered, “we’re not gonna last, anyway.”

You took his advice, burying your face in Walter’s neck while muttering ‘fuck’ with every single brutal thrust. They weren’t going to last; you could hear it in the grunts that escaped them, the way they breathed and their wavering rhythms, but damn if they didn’t put what little time they had to good use. ‘Fucking you six ways to Sunday’ would have been an understatement, even though you couldn’t for the life of you come up with something better to describe what they were doing to you.

Much to your surprise, Sy managed to outlast Walter by a few thrusts — which was no doubt going to make him insufferably cocky, but you’d deal with that later. When they tried to pull out, you stopped them.

“Gimme a minute,” you muttered, wanting to hold on to the feeling a little bit longer. It made you realize you didn’t do this nearly as much as you’d like to. Maybe it was time to bring that up?

“Did I lie?” Walter asked Sy, his voice as neutral as he could manage — but you could see the smile pulling ever so slightly at the corners of his mouth.

“Not a word,” Sy said. “Sugar, let’s get you into the shower.”

“No, I’m tired,” you complained, but apparently your time in charge had ended as soon as they’d both pumped you full of cum, because they raised their eyebrows at each other and manhandled you all the way to the bathroom and into the shower. You took revenge by insisting you were freezing — which wasn’t a lie — and demanding hotter water.

The boys played an annoying game of ‘trying to get your hair wet’ while they quickly washed theirs — with bodywash. Bodywash! — which made it really tempting to punch them both in the dick, but you decided against that. After all, you’d be needing those. Both of them.

After the shower, the three of you stopped in the hallway for reasons that weren’t immediately obvious to you — and then you saw what the guys were hesitant about. Both of them stood there, looking at you, at each other, and at their respective bedroom doors, before looking back into the bedroom the three of you had just had all that fun in.

“If you two so much as think you can sleep anywhere but next to me tonight,” you said sternly, “you’re sorely mistaken.”

Sy was the first to notice the small crack in your voice at the end of that sentence, and he immediately pulled you into a tight hug. From there, it was impossible to fight back the tears that welled up in your eyes. “Not goin’ anywhere, sugar,” he said, wiping the wet trails off your cheeks before kissing you softly.

“I’m also not as comfortable naked right now as I was ten minutes ago, so I’ll be right back,” Water said before disappearing into his room.

He kept his promise — not that you’d expected anything else — and climbed into bed with you moments later.

“Don’t push me out again,” Sy chuckled before pressing his lips to your shoulder, and you playfully nudged him with your ass, causing him to grab you and tangle his legs with yours.

It took a while for the three of you to settle on positions everyone was comfortable with — especially since you demanded that the boys touched as much of you as possible, while they appreciated touching as little of each other as possible.

“Do you like sharing me?” you asked quietly when you were snuggled up nicely against both of them.

“No, I hated every minute of what we just did,” Walter said, accompanying the remark with a dramatic eyeroll and a deep sigh.

Sy snorted derisively. “I know there ain’t no stupid questions, sugar, but I vote we make an exception for that one.”

“Okay, well,” you said, your voice still trembling, “answer the only stupid question in existence, then. Please?”

“If you think I invited y’all up here to torture myself or practice my self-control or whatever, you’re kiddin’ yourself,” Sy muttered before pressing his lips to your temple.

“And to actually provide a yes-or-no answer to your yes-or-no question,” Walter said. “Yes. We do like it. We’d actually been talking about how this was… overdue.”

“I agree,” you said, attempting to swallow the lump in your throat. Now came the hard part. “There’s one thing I don’t agree with, though.”

The boys both raised their eyebrows at you, and wrapped their arms around you a little tighter when they felt your whole body tremble against theirs. “I know we said… pre-exclusive” — meaning you’d agreed to fuck other people using condoms — “but I don’t think I want either of you screwing anyone else. I know it’s probably selfish, and—”

“Sugar, shut up,” Sy said, sealing his lips over yours so you were forced to stop speaking.

“We haven’t been screwing anyone,” Walter added. “Well, except for you, of course.”

It was clear the two of them had taken some time to talk this through as well — without including you in that conversation, apparently. That stung, but you got it.  

“We only talked it over because we felt it would be a matter of time before you… made a choice,” Sy muttered, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“I did make a choice,” you replied, “I’m picking both of you.”

[spideyhexx]

Modern Billy -

Still in the early days of dating - like a fourth date is organised and you had your car brought to the garage to be serviced and they tell you a whole bunch is wrong and give you a huge number which is arguable more than what the car is worth. So you take the car home and ponder on how you’re even gonna pay it and then while you were about to make lunch you get a call from Billy. He’s just calling because he’s ‘checking in’ if you’re still down for the date and you’re like “yeah I just took my car to that garage outside of town and they charged me … a lot…”

And he’d be like “where’d you take it?” And you’d name the place and as soon as you got that first syllable out of your mouth he’d be like “aw! No, no no no, you’re not takin’ yer little bug car there, darlin’, no way. No.”

You can imagine him rubbing his hand down his face at the thought as he shakes his head. You’d be waiting for his explanation and he’d continue, “Can ya still drive it a mile or two?”

“Yeah, it just doesn’t have much power for whatever reason.”

“Well, take it up to my place. I’ll fix ‘er. Can’t ‘ave ya bein’ robbed blind by those bastards down in that hole.” The frustration in his voice too, it’s almost comical but he’s deadly serious.

“Billy, that’s - too much, I can’t let you do that for me.”

“I won’t hear it, (he’d use your name, not a pet name so he’s serious.) I’ll have a look this evenin’ and if you come up here and give me that … diagnoses for the bug then I can see if they’re bullshittin’ you or not. But I can already tell you, that ain’t right soundin’.”

And the next week up until your date, you spent every evening up at his place while he fixed your car for you. And he’d look so good doing it too. Like while he’s on his back underneath and his shirt is ridden up his stomach as he reaches. And he’d have an old transistor radio playing an oldies station and it would just be quiet between you both but not in a bad way.

Then you’d say, “Billy I wanna pay you for this.”

And he’d stop what he was doing abruptly, “‘M not takin’ your money, darlin’, dream on.”

“I can’t let you do all this for me for free, I can’t.”

“I don’t see it as work” he’d say as he leaned over the engine and checked the levels of fluids.

“This is too big of a favour for someone you’ve gone on some dates with -“

“You know technically, it’s been what, six days of working at this bug and you’ve been here for all of it pretty much, sitting just there in my company, so that’s pretty much ten dates we’ve been on, now.” He picks his head up to look over at you, with a smirk growing into a smile, “I think that’s a worthwhile investment of my time.”

And you’d be speechless, just taking it in, and he’d just go back to fixing again, smiling to himself as he knew he’d won you then.

And after that, each date when you ate or did something, you sprang forward with your card to pay and he’d hate losing sometimes and it would become a little game, who could pay first. And at some point, when he was taking you back to his place, he’d say, “You don’t owe me nothin’, you know? Not a dime, darlin’. I’m not keepin’ count of somethin’ so unimportant.”

And you’d smile a little, and gaze over at him, “I appreciate it, is all, and this is how I show it. Y’know?”

And his hand with clamp over your knee and he’d just lowly say, “I know.”

ANON THIS IS WOW

[writethrough]

Hi, could you do either Billy Hargrove or Eddie Munson reacting to seeing their s/o who usually doesn’t like children, interact with a baby/toddler who they actually like? Maybe the s/o was hesitant at first but then the baby just became really attached to them? Ty <3

Little Chickadees

(Eddie Munson x Gender-Neutral Reader)

Warnings: None (I think)

Word Count: 889

A/N: Full disclosure, I really wanted to write both Eddie and Billy, but Billy's version has taken on two very different paths, so I need a bit more time with his. One is a little more wholesome and fluffy while the other is on the serious side. I'll link the fluffy one with this post, but not sure about the other since it won't have the same tone.

Thank you for the request! And I hope you enjoy it!

“Eddie, you literally hang out with children all the time!” you said, exasperated.

He gripped his chest as if in pain. “Ouch!”

You groaned. “You know what I mean. It’s just…Kids don’t like me, and I don’t like them. It’s a mutual dislike.”

You were rambling at this point, and both of you knew it.

All you wanted was to spend the day with your boyfriend, but because he was such a sweetheart, he had volunteered both of you for the petting zoo at the Fourth of July carnival. And where there were fuzzy, adorable creatures, there were screaming, crying kids.

“C’mon, it won’t be that bad!” He flopped beside you on his bed. “You technically don’t even have to watch them. That’s what their parents are for. You just have to make sure no one loses a finger to a goat.”

“That’s not helping,” you said.

“Or lets an alpaca loose.”

“Eddie!” You threw a pillow at him.

“Alright!” he laughed, “Alright, I’ll stop.”

You played with the chain hanging from his jeans.

“You’ll be fine, sweetheart,” he said, rubbing your knee. “But we should probably head over. I know how much you hate being late.”

You let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, I guess.”

He offered you his hand, intertwining your fingers to lead you to his van.

You wished it had taken longer to get there. You would have rather listened to Eddie ramble about the most recent campaign than deal with the children of Hawkins.

At least the animals would distract you.

The baby goats were adorable, but you couldn’t help wincing when they bumped their heads together.

Baby ducks and chicks were waddling around in their pens, and the alpacas were corralled in fencing where visitors could see them.

“Think anyone'd mind if I took one of these guys home?” Eddie asked, holding one of the baby ducks.

You gave him a soft smile, resting your chin on his shoulder. “As much as I would love to see you play mother hen—or mother duck—I think stealing isn’t exactly the right answer.”

He puckered his lips in thought. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He set it back in its pen. “And with my luck, it’d probably like Uncle Wayne more than me.”

You hummed and kissed his cheek. “Guess you’ll just have to settle for me.”

You went to pull away, but he quickly caught you around your waist to kiss you properly.

“There’s no settling when you’re the most amazing person I know,” he said into your hair.

Your heart beat a little faster the longer he stared. He always looked at you like you were the only person in the room. And you counted yourself grateful you found someone as kind and loving as him.

“Love you,” you whispered, touching your forehead to his.

“Love you, too.”

Excited shouts and giggles drifted as the kids bounded to the petting zoo.

“Show time,” Eddie said, reluctantly pulling away.

You sighed for what felt like the tenth time. “Yeah, yeah.”

When you got to the main area, Eddie showed some little boys the goats. And when one of them headbutted Eddie’s leg, the boys all laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. 

And you briefly caught Eddie biting his lip to keep the groan back. He’d definitely have a bruise tomorrow.

Someone tugged on your shirt to get your attention. Holly Wheeler stood there with her head tilted back.

“Hey, Holly. Where’s your mom?” you asked.

She pointed to her right, where her parents were having what looked like a disagreement.

“Okay,” you nodded, “why don’t we look at the baby chickens? How does that sound?”

She nodded excitedly.

“Alright, Holls.” You gently picked up one of the chicks. “Sit next to me, and you can pet him.”

You both sat on a hay bale, and Holly was transfixed by the creature.

“Just use one finger and be super careful,” you said.

She slowly ran her finger down the chick's back, barely any pressure applied.

“Soft,” she mumbled, a content smile on her face.

“You like him?”

She nodded again, starting her path from the beginning. The chick lowered its head, eyes closing as the repetitive motion put him to sleep.

You grinned. “Looks like he feels safe with you, Holly.”

She giggled but stopped petting him, not wanting to wake him up.

“Let’s put him back with his friends. Wanna see the ducks next?”

She was standing by their pen in an instant.

Her interaction with the ducks went much the same. And soon enough, Mrs. Wheeler called Holly back and gave you a wave of thanks.

You had just put the duck back when Eddie sidled up beside you.

“Kids don’t like you, huh?” he teased, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You rolled your eyes. “It was a fluke.”

“Yes, of course.” He nodded as if it made perfect sense. “S’why you were so good with her, right?”

You pinched his side lightly. “Holly’s a sweet kid. Not like your little demons.” You nodded toward the group of boys now at the alpacas.

He shook his head slightly. “That goat had it out for me.”

You laughed, leaning into his side.

He kissed the side of your head. “Knew you’d be fine.”

You faced him. “Whatever you say, Dungeon Master.”

Taglist: @phenomenal-bird, @steph-speaks, @bookshelf-dust

If you’d like to be added to any tag lists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on.

[roman0writes]

𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕟𝕚𝕡𝕡𝕝𝕖 𝕡𝕚𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: 𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕥 𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

Authors note: by the way there’s a poll at the bottom for who I should do next! Also as a side note please listen to your piercer about piercing care: no mouths should go on nipples for between 6-8 weeks post piercing MINIMUM.

Rating: M (not sexually explicit but implies actively VERY heavily)

Summary: TFP!Ratchet finds out your nipples are pierced. That’s it. End tweet.

Content warnings: talk of pain of piercing, reader has boobs and wears a padded bra but is not explicitly referred to as a woman, ratchet being ratchet, ALMOST valveplug it stops before the good part, reader is minority injured

He first noticed the body modifications while he was doing a full scan of your body. You’d taken a mean tumble down a ravine, holding an auto bot artifact close to your chest as you fell straight through the bright green ground bridge.

You’d twisted your ankle, and were covered in scraps in bruises that adrenaline refused to let you feel. Ratchet, ever diligent as a team medic, insisted on doing a full body scan to make sure you hadn’t injured anything during you “child-like hill roll”. Which it was NOT, mind you. A hundred feet down a rocky, dusty ravine that was practically vertical was no where near as pleasant as the grassy Piedmont hills from your childhood memories.

Ratchet snaps you out of your thoughts. “Care to tell me about the partially healed wounds on your breast tissue?”

You know he isn’t give you a choice, especially when Arcee, Bulkhead and Optimus Prime turn to look at you. “No, not really.”

Ratchet sighs. His vents stutter at your lack-luster, brat-like outburst. “Then would you care to tell me why there are pieces of metal stuck in them?”

“Also, no.”

You hear the heavy foot falls of Optimus Prime rather than see him approach because of the holes you’re staring into the grates of the floor of the platform. Frankly, you’d rather take that tumble four times than look at either of the bots right now.

Optimus calls your name firmly, quietly but with an authority that grabs your heart, squeezes it, and twists it out of your chest and into your throat. “If you ever need medical assistance,” you see his servo holding the railing in your peripheral vision, and still don’t look up, “you can always come to us.”

Ratchet huffs in agreement. “I can’t have you dying on us because you feel like a cold is too much of a bother for me.” You can see under the grumpy, huffy exterior, he’s hurt because you didn’t come to him. And it makes your heart swell because you really like him.

But in the same beat it also hurts you because you hurt him.

“It’s not an injury,” you confess, counting the holes in the grates of the platform. You’ve counted fourth-seven so far, “it’s a cosmetic modification I got, on earth they’re called piercings.”

“Like the ones Miko has in her ears?” Bulkhead chimes in.

“Yeah!” You exclaim, significantly less embarrassed now that someone understands at least a little bit. “Technically you can get them in a lot of places but the ears, nose, and belly button are the most common.”

Ratchet sighs. “How long have you had them?”

“Seven weeks.”

“So they’re still healing?”

You nod your head.

Ratchet scoops you up into his hand, so you don’t have to walk closer to the part of the med-bay he uses for humans. “I’m sure they need to be looked at after you took that tumble.”

Your face turns bright red in an instance. “I’m not showing you my nipples, at least buy me dinner first!”

“I’m a doctor,” Ratchet responds, putting you down on a tiny medical berth.

“And? Just take me somewhere fancy.” You can hear Wheeljacks laughter in the back of room.

“Just take your shirt off,” Ratchet grumbles, “brat.”

You peel the torn piece of formerly-white-now-clay colored shirt over your head, and unclip the basically destroyed bra underneath. They were sweaty, grimy and NOT going back on your body if you could help it, sitting shirtless in front of your giant robot alien crush be damned. Luckily, Optimus would not bear witness to your upper anatomy -thank god- as he had turned around and left the med-bay with you and Ratchet. You’re glad that at least he’s respecting your privacy.

Ratchet comes in with an alcohol wipe the size of a small blanket, and starts to gently wipe at all the cuts that litter your torso.

It stings, and you say as much as you squirm away from it.

“Don’t make me hold you still like a petulant child,” Ratchet says, as one servo cups behind your back tenderly but firmly, like how you hold a petulant child.

You pout at him as he wipes the dirt away from the cuts.

“Did they hurt?” He asks eventually, wiping at a nasty gash below your collar bone.

“Huh?”

“The piercings.” He elaborates. Despite the tumble you took, the uncomfortable push up bra took all of the damage, leaving your chest unscathed.

“Not really,” you answer, “my HPV vaccine was worse. It felt like a pinch, and my nipples felt like they were in ice water for like four hours, but that’s the been the extent of the pain from the piercing process itself.”

You can see some of the tension leave from his heavy stare.

“One time Bumblebee’s seatbelt caught on it and that hurt, but that’s it, really.”

Ratchet lifts an optical ridge, “why would you get a body modification that causes you pain?”

At this point, he’s still cupping your back with one servo, and still wiping you down with the wipe, but he’s already gotten all the cuts. You wonder why he’s still doing it. To ask you more questions, perhaps?

“It’s less that it causes me more pain and more that it increases sensitivity.”

Ratchet’s face flushes pink with the rush of energeon to his faceplates. “So it’s a modification to increase pleasure?”

You nod your head, face an equal amount of pink. “It also looks cute.”

He pulls the wipe away from your body, and slowly brings his faceplate closer to you, to your chest.

“I suppose it does,” he whispers softly, almost to himself. You almost didn’t hear him. Almost.

“I’m glad you think so,” you whisper back, flush reaching down your neck, past the tan-line from your t-shirt.

His eyes flicker up to yours, and through the ozone thickening in the room, you can see some unfamiliar emotions spark in Ratchet’s optics. “I suppose we should test the sensitivity of these, shouldn’t we?”

[canonicallysoulmates]

J2 Gold Panel Dallascon 2023

The boys today are in full swing, they're joking around making each other laugh, they're a little flirty, they are just in such a good mood and you can tell from the moment they get on the stage.

Jared does a little kick which is so cute and after Jared asks Jensen if it feels like they're twice as high as they usually are Jensen jokes that yeah but he did have some edibles that morning, and then he turns towards the big screen they have behind them that has a big banner with two pictures of them and he asks what's up with Jared's photo because he looks high....and Jared replies that what happened was that the picture got cropped so you don't see Jensen's left hand...I have no words.

And then there's Jared trying to recreate his stare in the photo and Jensen's left hand- just click on the link and watch: 😂

The first question is not a question it’s a fan thanking them, the show has a very special meaning to them because it's something that they watched with their grandad; Jared says that hearing stories from people about how the show helped them connect with their loved ones is one of the things that kept them going for so many years and when they were missing their families. x

The actual first question comes from an English teacher who sometimes uses SPN episodes in her drama units, like she used French Mistake to teach about breaking the fourth wall, and wants to know if they have episode recommendations that she could use for lessons. Jared recommends showing the movie Groundhog Day, and the ep Mystery Spot. The reason he brings up Groundhog Day is because he watched it this past week with their kids while they were all home because of icepocalypse. !!!!!!!!! Y'all already know I listened to this part multiple times, at different speeds, at different volume levels. This man said: "I just watched this movie last week with our kids when we were all home cause of icepocalypse". To me it sounds like Jensen and his three kiddos spend the ice storm with Jared and the other three kids.

But as I always say, don't take my word for it, here's the timestamp. Listen for yourself and form your own opinion.

Getting back to the answer Jensen asks him what the lesson would be for Mystery Spot and Jared replies the lesson is probably: you get another chance tomorrow, and try to make everyday count cause you never know when it’s your last or when you get to do it again the next day.

Jensen says that for a lesson in overcoming your fears, Yellow Fever. x

What’s their favorite quote? Jared jokes "leave the gun, take the cannoli." That's a line from the Godfather film. His real answer is: "pain is mandatory suffering is optional". And for Jensen one he likes a lot is: "taking care of yourself takes care of more than yourself."

Then Jared brings up another movie quote, "dude you got a fucking dart in your neck" which is from the movie Old School. This man spend the time he was stuck in the house watching old movies, I can tell. He also says people don’t have feelings, feelings have people. Which Jensen is confused by and doesn’t think it makes sense, but Jared explains that what he gathers from it is feelings are not pathological you can be angry or jealous but that's not who you are. x

When are Sam and Dean going to come back down to Earth? Jensen jokingly says season 16. Then says seriously, that that’s hopefully something that gets addressed when they get the call asking if they want to put their boots back on. x

What was their favorite kill? Some in the crowd call out Ruby, and Jensen laughs saying that technically he killed her, and Jared smiles and says to the crowd "are you reading my mind?"

Jensen's answer is Chuck. It wasnt some random monster of the week kind of thing it was somebody they had many years of work together and a friendship so whenever they get to work with people they have a great history and relationship with it makes it a little bit elevated, but he’ll take a good vampire nest killing everyday.

Jared says he didn't like killing this character but as a storyteller he's going to go with Rowena because it was so difficult. Says Ruthie is the most wonderful person on the planet, and she was fantastic as Rowena but that dynamic between her and Sam- it was so tragic to him to think of Sam having to kill her, it was so difficult he remembers the day vividly, it was truly emotional. He mentions that when the character of Bobby died they talked to the producers and the writers, and they said they didn't like it either but it’s great television and the boys were like fair enough so that was kind of an initial lesson; and when the Rowena and Sam storyline came to its conclusion that was really powerful for him. x

The next fan wants to know something cool about the boys that you wouldn't be able to find online. Jared says he’s done a questionnaire a few times, and guessing about Jensen, and it's turned out they're both introverts. They'd much rather stay home than go to a red carpet; extroverts feel energized being in front of the cameras but they much rather chill. x

Next fan has two questions, the first is that they want to know if the mic stand that Jared has is the one that Jensen threw down at the SNS concert the previous night because Jared keeps adjusting it. Jensen says he doesn’t know what she’s talking about, then he asks if he really did break a stand last night, the crowd replies yes and he goes 'listen, when i come on stage and there's music I black out'. And he, once again, asks if he really did break that stand, crowd continues to say yes, he says 'well, shouldn’t have been there'. 😆

The second question is, did Jensen think about how much his recognition would grow after appearing on The Boys? He answers that he doesn’t think he and Jared go into any of these jobs, roles,or stories thinking about the impact it'll have externally. They get hired to do a job and they take it seriously, even thought it might not look like it all the time, but they have a lot of fun doing the job because they truly enjoy doing what they do that being said they're not thinking about doing things because they want the effect it's going to have on a greater scale. They're just doing their job and hopefully it resonates to people and someone out there is entertained, and if that's the case they have done their job.

Jared mentions that 5 or 6 years ago the powerball prize was like 2 billion dollars, and they bought like 20 bucks of tickets. The draw was on Saturday, on Friday they’re on set filming, it's 4am, they’re tired, they’re miserable, they're flying soon and they look at each other and ask "if you win tomorrow are you coming into work on Monday?" And the answer for both of them was yes. If somebody went up to them and said they were filming a movie for the next month and it was going to be long hours but it would make a billion dollars in the box office, or long hours but they were never going to release it, it would make no difference they would still do everyday just as hard. He just does the hardest work he can and it's therapeutic for him as well to explore different lives and lifestyles and relationships so wether you tell him it’s an independent film that will never get released or Avatar he will work just as hard. And so will Jensen. x

Last question! The fan tells Jensen that he owes her sister 24 beers because last year she asked him to go out for her birthday beer and this fan had said that because she was turning 24 it should be 24 beers, and he had said she (fan asking the question) could go with them but she wasn't 21 at the time but she just turned 21 so now she can go and that would be 21 beers. I'm mentioning all this for only two reasons cause it has nothing to do with her question, reason number 1 is that when the fan tells Jensen about him owing her sister a beer, Jared grabs Jensen's coffee out of his hand and acts like he's going to give it to her and Jensen has no reaction, he just lets him take it and waits for him to put it back in his hand, like Jared taking his coffee is the most normal thing in the world. Which it probably is because they 100% do seem like the type of couple that shares coffee.

The second reason is that when the fan mentions that he owes her 21 beers on top of her sisters 24, Jared says that's 45 beers and Jensen stops, looks at him and goes "you do math fast!" all impressed. It's quite cute cause Jensen's all 😍 and you can tell Jared's proud of himself.

Anyways the last question is, what is their version of self care? Jared says that he’s been watching Limitless with Chris Hemsworth on Clif’s recommendation that it’s really meaningful, and fun, and interesting and a lot of the stuff that's talked about on the show really resonates with him. He is very similar, he has a though time winding down, and goes back to monkey brain, which is apparently what a doctor said, that's where one panics about stuff and is always worried so certain breathing excercises have helped. Also, the endurance training they did when they ran the marathon in Seattle kinda helped cause you put your shoes on, your music, your watch to check your heartrate and then you're on the road for an hour or hour and a half so you have to put everything else away, and he blames Jensen for turning him to this cause this was the training they did together. So find somewhere you can get past that really uncomfortable point of thinking you have to be doing something. Box breathing also seems to help him cause he sweats a lot, and he's anxious and nervous.

Jensen likes playing music, he’ll just sit down with a guitar and a lot of whiskey. x

J2 Gold Panel Dallascon

[portaltothevoid]

For Whom the Bell Tolls - Chapter 35 - Spellbound

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (Kat Ramsay), sequel to Foolin’

Summary: Kat returns to Hawkins after the battle.

Warnings: This is it. It’s the end of Kat’s story…. For now. 

Word count: 3.3k

Chapter song: Spellbound by Siouxsie and the Banshees

Tag list: @munchabunch​ @madaboutmunson​ @earl-greater​

The medics were working on Eddie before the helicopter was even in the air. They took his vitals and changed his bandages, applying more pressure to stop whatever ones were still bleeding. Frantically, they were writing notes on various clipboards. 

An adrenaline crash hit Kat like a ton of bricks. She could feel herself spacing out as she tried to stay attentive to Eddie. The whole ride took no more than 15 minutes. They landed atop this building in the middle of the woods. It felt eerily similar to Hawkins Lab. 

Eddie was wheeled off in the stretcher. The woman had held Kat back, not letting her follow. She didn’t even fight it. There was really nothing anyone could do to keep her from him anyway, but she knew the doctors needed space to assess him and make him comfortable. Soon enough, she would see him.

Kat was led a few floors down to a fancy boardroom. There she saw her Uncle Hank who shot up to greet her along with a couple of his colleagues. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he said as he hugged her. 

“Yeah, me too, honestly,” she said quietly, returning his hug. “They’ll tell me as soon as Eddie is stable, right?”

“Yes, yes, of course. He will be very well taken care of here,” Hank assured her as he pulled out a chair for her to sit.

“Where is ‘here’ exactly?”

“Knight Ridge Technical, a government research facility, about ten miles east of Bloomington.”

“Right…” she said tapping on the table. “It’s not the kind of research that brainwashes kids and experiments on them against their will, right?” With Kat’s blunt question it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. 

“No, no. Nothing of that sort. That was Brenner’s thing. Here at Knight Ridge we focus more on understanding physics and electromagnetic fields, things of that nature.”

“Yeah, sure. So are we here to talk terms or…?” she trailed off.

“Terms?” The woman asked.

“Uh, yeah. Eddie and I are prime suspects in murders that One did, and ya know, opened up a massive gate between our world and the Upside Down. So I want our names cleared. Specifically his name cleared.”

“That… that will come in time. I’m seeing to it you both are going to be very well taken care of. Right now we are just trying to understand exactly how that happened.”

Kat let out a big sigh. “So my friend Max was one of his victims. Basically me and El, Eleven, piggybacked from Max’s mind into Vecna… One’s mind. We call him Vecna. Sometimes One. Sometimes Henry? Anyway. He wanted us to watch him kill Max as his fourth and final victim to, in his demented mind, ‘save the world’ more or less, but wherever El was, her boyfriend gave her this peptalk. Which I could hear too. He was telling her to fight. I thought of Eddie. And I fought like hell to get back to him. Because the all-seeing asshole showed me a live feed of the demobats attacking him. El basically finished One off while I went back to my body and then, um, sort of became a human EKG machine. Um, so yeah, we sort of stalled him for the time being, but I mean, every place One killed someone turned into a gate. When Max… died…” Kat took a second to clear her throat. The weight and reality of that statement hadn’t even registered in her mind yet. “That’s what caused the giant earthquake. I saw it from the air. Every gate connected and formed a line to the center of Hawkins. I don’t know what it means, but… He said he would be there when the rest of the world burns and falls and he’d be there to pick up the pieces, to turn the world into something beautiful. Clearly we have very different standards of beauty. If only you guys got a look at him. He doesn’t need to bag just his face, but his whole body…” Kat shuddered at the thought and then looked at everyone in front of her. They all stared back at her blankly, mouths slightly agape. 

Hank cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. “We’ve lost contact with Eleven after the disaster at NINA, but you said she was there?”

“Yeah, she’s on her way back to Hawkins.”

“You’re the reason that boy is alive?” someone else asked.

“Um, yeah. I– I– I panicked. I couldn’t… I can’t lose him,” she whispered as she looked at her hands on the table.

“You never cease to amaze me, ya know that, kiddo?” Hank said with a beaming smile. “So here’s what happens now. We’re going to set you up in an overnight suite here. You used an immense amount of power. To be quite honest, I don’t even know how you’re still standing right now.”

“Well, I’m sitting, but yeah, me neither.”

“You rest up and hopefully by the time you’re ready, you’ll be able to see Eddie. Sound good?”

“Yeah, sure, but Uncle Hank? I mean it. When we get back to Hawkins I want his name cleared,” she spoke sternly.

“Who said anything about going back to Hawkins? Kat, honey, you can’t go back there. The town is like a war zone.”

“Exactly. It is a war zone. And I have to be on the front lines. This fight isn’t over. It’s only just beginning.”

Hank started to stutter when the woman spoke up. “The girl and her family will be staying in their secluded cabin. Surely there’s another one nearby we could set up for them. Temporarily they can stay there until we finalize everything.”

“I like this lady,” Kat nodded with a smile as she got up from her seat. Everyone else followed suit. “Don’t know who you are, but I like you.”

“Agent Stinson,” she said as she stuck out her hand for a handshake. “I’ll show you to your room.”

~~~~~

The next day Kat was waiting outside Eddie’s room, ringing her hands anxiously. She had been called here just moments ago, but when she finally got to the room, he was still asleep. One of the doctors finally came by and updated her on everything.

“He’s very lucky to be alive, you know. We honestly don’t know how he survived. Those wounds were deep and he lost a lot of blood. He has quite the road to recovery, but luckily you got him here in time. Truly, his case is baffling. Were you aware he was clinically dead for about a minute?”

“I… um, yeah. I just, um… I went by the book to save him, I guess,” she muttered. She’d never heard or seen this person before in her life. How could she know if she could trust him? Sometimes she felt guilty for how much of the battle she relayed to her Uncle, but it just kept pouring out of her.

“Is that so?” The doctor chuckled. “We’re all on your side here. You can trust us.”

“That’s what they all say,” Kat said with a weak smile.

“I get it, I get it. From what you’ve been through… It’s wise not to automatically trust everyone you meet. Anyway, his vitals are stable. We gave him fluids when he first got here. He was able to eat this morning. His upper body suffered the most damage, so you guys should be on your way tomorrow.”

“Does everyone know what I can do here? Jesus. Wait, on our way tomorrow? Are you serious?”

“You and Eleven are like our local celebrities here. We’re all in your corner. And absolutely. This is the most miraculous case I’ve ever seen. I mean, the improvement from yesterday to today is astonishing. I’ll send you home with a folder full of his care regimen. You’ll have agents and doctors close by, should any issues arise.”

“Thank you,” she said sincerely.

“Alright, I’ll let you see him. It’s best if he wakes up on his own, but there's a chair in there for you and the TVs still on, so help yourself. If you need anything, just buzz for one of the nurses.”

Kat nodded and had her hand on the door knob, but hesitated before she went in. “Wait, just tell me before I go in there… Did you have to cut his hair?”

“No,” the doctor chuckled. “His hair is still intact.”

“Thank god. I didn’t wanna be the one to tell him. He would’ve been pissed,” Kat laughed as she entered the room.

He was lying there peacefully. Bandages covered much of his body. But the color had returned to his face. His hair was fanned out around him. She was well aware the doctor said not to disturb him, so sat in the chair and sort of… followed his directions.

At this point, she had a handle on her powers so much that she could just enter the void simply by closing her eyes and focusing on it. The TV became background noise. The light didn’t bother her. It was just like falling asleep with the lights on, in a roundabout way.  

As soon as she padded across the shallow water of the void, something felt… off. Usually, she felt completely neutral here until she entered someone’s mind. This time it was different. Cautiously, she walked up to his hospital bed and went to reach for his hand. Before she made contact, his eyes flung open. He grabbed her arm with a tight grip and pulled her down closer to his level. His eyes bore right into hers, streaks of red brightened his dark brown irises. “No,” he said forcefully.

Immediately she opened her eyes, her chest heaving from whatever she just witnessed. She looked over at Eddie who was still peacefully sleeping. This was something that had never happened before. It was as if something else was there. Something else that didn’t want her seeing into Eddie’s mind. 

He began to stir and slowly started to wake up. His eyes fluttered open and when he glanced to the right, he softly smiled. “Hey,” he whispered groggily.

Kat flew out of the chair and to his side. She gripped his hand tightly like if she let go he would disappear forever. “Hey, hi!” she murmured gently. “Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”

“Just you to be here with me.”

She leaned over and kissed his forehead. “I’m here.”

“Wait, they didn’t cut my hair did they?”

“No,” Kat laughed at how well she knew him. “You didn’t need brain surgery. Which is surprising considering how dumb you are!”

“Ah, here we go,” he chuckled. 

“I can’t believe you! After everything I told you! Sometimes running is okay, you know! Jesus. You scared the shit outta me. I almost fucking lost you. For good. For forever! Oh my god, and Dustin! Dustin had to see the whole thing. Poor Dustin.”

“You good? Got that outta your system?”

“I– Yeah. Just… don’t fucking die again, okay?”

“Not planning on it, but hey anything can–” he started to tease, but cut himself off when Kat shot daggers at him with the look on her face. “Yeah, no, definitely not planning on it. Um, how did I, uh, get here?”

“I called my Uncle and he got you airlifted here. It’s like Hawkins Lab 2.0. Supposedly minus the brainwashing and child experiments, but jury’s still out on that.”

“You what? You called the government? So, what the hell happens when we get outta here? Am I…” Eddie spoke so fast his words almost blended together.

Kat shook her head. “No. They’re gonna take care of it. We might have to stay with El in some cabin for a bit until they get us our place, but we’re going back to Hawkins after this. And my Uncle assured me we’d be well taken care of. Both of us. Eddie, this was the safest route. The doctors over at NINA that were working with El are also working with everyone here. We’re safe.”

“Great, so we’ll basically be under witness protection or some shit?”

“Why is this bothering you so much?”

“I just want my life back,” Eddie muttered.

“In time, babe, in time. Maybe. Who knows. Vecna still might destroy the world and we did all of this for nothing,” she shrugged. 

“Can’t we, like, run away to California or something? Stay at one of your parent’s houses or some shit?”

Kat shook her head solemnly. “I need to be in Hawkins. This isn’t over.”

“Yeah,” he snorted. “It’s not. Hey, does Wayne know I’m…alive?”

“I have no idea. I’m not even sure if it’s safe for him to know. We can ask?”

Eddie just nodded and stared at whatever was on the TV. Kat furrowed her brow, debating if she wanted to ask this question now, but why wait when it would just gnaw at her? “Hey, Eddie, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Do you remember anything from… um, anything about–”

“Dying? No,” he answered curtly. “And I don’t wanna talk about it.”

His tone took her off guard. He never spoke to her like that. And that’s how she knew he was lying. Her theory was proving to be correct. Something was definitely off. A knock on the door interrupted, or rather saved, Kat from coming up with a response.

The doctor gave them both a run down of his status and confirmed his release for the next day, after testing out his mobility. He struggled, but was mobile. They were just mere hours away from an actual peaceful rest. Hopefully.

~~~~~

Another helicopter landed atop the Knight Ridge building while Eddie and Kat were waiting for their ride back to Hawkins. Eddie had returned to his normal self. Or at least, he didn’t act weird like he did the day before. The couple leaned against an expensive looking black car with the darkest tinted windows. Eventually, Agent Stinson finally emerged from the building with another man and woman in tow. 

“Chief Hopper?” Eddie asked.

“Munson?”

“You two know each other? Oh, what am I saying? It’s Hawkins, of course they know each other,” Kat mumbled to herself. 

“Hi, I’m Joyce Byers,” a woman with auburn hair and the kindest, sweetest smile Kat had ever seen held out her hand.

“Hi, I’m Kat Ramsay, nice to meet you. Byers? You must be Will’s mom?”

“Yes! You know Will?”

“We know of him. Eddie is, well, was the DM for the D&D club at the high school. Dustin and Mike would always talk about him and El. You both seem like wonderful people, I’m so happy she found you guys after getting away from that prison of a lab,” Kat rolled her eyes at the thought of it. 

“You know El?” Hopper asked. He had a shaved head and the start of a beard. He looked like he was practically skin and bones under his baggy clothes. 

“Very well. I was, uh, number Ten at the lab.”

“Come on, we can catch everybody up to speed on the way there,” Stinson said, urging everyone to get in the car.

When they finally got to the secluded cabin, Kat had heard all about the Russians involvement with the Upside Down and how Joyce went all the way there to save Hopper. They also told her about how they destroyed particles from the Mind Flayer and demogorgons at Kamchatka prison to help give them an upper hand. From there, Kat filled them in on everything that had happened the past week.

As they reached their destination, Stinson sighed. “I thought you said this place was livable?”

“Well it was, but I’ve sort of been in a Russian prison. Haven’t been able to keep up the place.”

“We’ll send a crew out. I’ll give you all some time. I’ll be back later to take you all someplace in the meantime.”

Everyone left a chorus of ‘thank you’s to her as they got out of the car. Mike and what Kat assumed to be Will, ran to Joyce, followed by another boy that was with Nancy. She presumed that to be Jonathan, her boyfriend… for now at least. Kat would do her best to keep her comment to herself. She noticed another boy with very long, dark hair holding up a mushroom, like he’d found gold. Nancy ran up to Kat and gave her a hug.

“Oh my god, Nancy, you’re alive!” Kat exclaimed. “Did Robin and Steve make it out too? How’s Dustin? What about Max and Lucas and Erica?” 

“Yeah, our group made it out alive. Lucas beat the shit out of Jason, you would have been so impressed. He also didn’t make it through the earthquake…”

“Good riddance to him. Sorry, too soon?”

Nancy just shook her head and chuckled. “Erica is okay. Lucas has been at the hospital with Max–”

“Max is alive?!”

“Barely, she’s in a coma. The doctors aren’t even sure how she’s still alive.” 

Kat looked over at Eddie and then saw El emerge from the cabin with Hopper. “I think I do,” she whispered before she ran over to El and wrapped her in a huge hug. “Oh my god, El, are you okay? How are you?”

“I am great,” she said as she beamed at Hopper. “I am happy you’re here, Kat.”

Kat was formally introduced to everyone. When Eddie met Will for the first time, they stared at each other. It was only for a few seconds. No one else but Kat noticed. She was the only one watching him like a hawk for anything out of the ordinary. The exchange made her stomach flip. 

As everyone was mingling, a sudden chill went down Kat’s spin. At the same time, she saw Will reach for the back of his neck. Him and Eddie exchanged quick nods, before Will turned around to look up at the sky. Dark, ominous clouds were rolling in. Thunder rumbled and particles began to fall from the sky, exactly like ones that floated around the Upside Down. Will had grown visibly anxious, his breaths becoming short and shallow. Eddie stared up at the sky, biting his lip and tapping his fingers on the side of his leg. Telltale signs whatever was happening made him anxious too. From what Kat understood, besides herself and El, Will also had a connection to the Upside Down and to Vecna. 

Together, they walked through the woods to a nearby field that cascaded down the hillside. The bottom half of it, closest to town, was rotten and decaying. Everything was covered with fuzzy film, like mold almost that puffed and spread with it was touched. Everyone stopped in their tracks, overwhelmed with the view in front of them. 

El kept going to where the vegetation had died. She picked up a dead flower and examined it. Kat walked with her and knew she had seen this somewhere before. She bent down to examine it all more closely.

“This looks like how the pumpkin patch did…” she noted, looking up at El who looked at her with a forlorn expression and solemnly nodded. 

Everyone looked out over Hawkins. Plumes and pillars of smoke reached up to the clouds. The biggest one was in the center of town, where all four gates met. The same red lighting that they all saw in the Upside Down was right in front of them. Anger and determination took over El’s features. Kat stood up and looked back at Eddie. He wouldn’t take his eyes off the tornado-like columns of smoke. As she followed his gaze, fury started to rumble inside of her. 

Vecna wasn’t going to take Eddie away from her. Not again. The battle might be over, but the war had only just begun.

previous chapter | the end

A/N: If you’ve made it this far, you have my undying gratitude. If you’ve liked, commented, or rebloogged, even if you’ve only read one chapter, thank you. I appreciate anyone who’s taken time out of their day to read any parts of my writing. If you’ve been here since the beginning of Foolin’, I just cannot thank you enough. I wanted to give Eddie the ending he deserved and ending up creating a bad ass OC in the process. I’m still amazed I was able to see their story through to completion. Kat and Eddie will always have a place in my heart and I hope they will in yours too. Til next time!

[wilted-woman]

music time

ha. you fool. do you know what you’ve done.

comparing turnabout sisters’ ballad, turnabout sisters’ theme (maya’s theme) and with pearly (pearl’s theme) - this does get technical btw you have been warned:

These three tracks all build off the same basic melodic line, with variations in tempo, key, chord structure, and rhythm in order to evoke completely different feelings. I’m calling Maya’s theme (also sometimes called Turnabout Sisters’ Theme) the base melody, since it’s the one we hear first. Maya’s theme is interesting: even though it’s written in F minor, the composer is able to keep it feeling happy by centering the melodic line around Ab (the relative major), and having it at an up-tempo andante (a quick walking pace). Ending the line on a i6 rather than a i helps to soften the minor as well: by inverting the chord, we’re working with two major intervals (a third and a fourth) rather than a minor and then major third. (it feels more major because it’s made of major intervals - deceptive).

*i wrote the inversion wrong in m2, it should be vii6/4 not 6/5 i just don’t wanna rewrite it

This image of the first line shows where the main melody ends, and the fill comes in to keep the momentum going. I’ve also marked how the melody makes Ab feel like the tonal center, even though the tonic is actually F. That first point about the fill is important, because it’s one of the biggest differences between Maya’s theme and Ballad of Turnabout Sisters. 

Ballad of Turnabout Sisters has a much sadder, but just as sweet, tone to it. It’s slowed down to an adagio, and the key is lowered to A minor (with the melody still centered around the relative major - keeping that bittersweet feeling and the connection to Maya’s theme). 

When we look at the sheet music, a few more differences pop out immediately. For one, it’s a whole lot emptier. Instead of the full chords we had with Maya’s theme, this ballad has been stripped down to melody and bass line. We also don’t have those fills in between the melodic phrases to hurry the piece along, making it feel a lot more still. The lengthened pickup and the repeated note in measure 2 strengthen this effect, making you really wait for that resolution. And when you get it, we aren’t in major-interval-land like we were in Maya’s theme. That i chord is now in root position, and is missing its major third, so all we have is a minor interval, making the whole thing sound a lot sadder.

With Pearly probably has the most changes out of all three.

The biggest one by far is the time signature: we are now counting in three instead of two, making the whole thing sound more bouncy and fun. It’s also been taken faster (this sheet music didn’t have a specific marking but it feels like vivace - lively and brisk) and raised up, not to D minor, but to F major. Again, it’s a softer major (note the vii to IV in measure 2 instead of your usual V to I), but it’s major nonetheless, scrubbing basically all melancholy from the melody. The amount of space between the melody and bassline also makes it feel all the more brighter compared to even Maya’s theme, which is about a sixth lower. All-in-all, this is very nine-year-old.

The way this melody-and-variations connects Mia, Maya and Pearl, while also encapsulating a myriad of different moods is really clever, and honestly so much better than writing individual themes from scratch. It conveys a sense of family incredibly well: same, but different.

ALSO on a slightly different note i was inspired by this to write. all this

go check it out even if you’re not a theory buff it’s really cool trust me. it also gives you like. a more wholistic appreciation for all the soundtracks rather than this super-niche deep-dive i wrote

[jacquelinemerritt]

Star Wars: Exploring the Canon - The Clone Wars Saga Part 1

Originally posted January 4th, 2017

In which we look at the first half of the canonical works set in the Clone Wars: the theatrical film, and the first three seasons of the TV show.

This review is part of a series of pieces on the entirety of the Star Wars canon. See them all here!

To preface this article, I want to try and point out the absurdity of following an article written about two films and a comic mini-series with an article written about six seasons of television, a comic mini-series, and a full-length novel. If you’re wondering why it has taken so long for me to get this part written, here’s your answer: there is just so much to write about that even after watching The Clone Wars all the way through, I wasn’t sure of where to start. We’re going to break this down by season though, starting by analyzing the first film and then tackling the show season by season until we reach the third. As for seasons 4-6, the comic, and the novel, expect me to cover them in my next installment.

Star Wars: The Clone Wars

When I first saw the theatrically released Star Wars: The Clone Wars, I was incredibly dismayed. I thought it was a disgrace to have a Star Wars film released in theaters when that film told such a gutless story, took no risks, and had next to no consequence within the story’s universe. To be perfectly frank, I think all of that is still pretty true. The film tells the story of Anakin and his new apprentice, Ahsoka Tano, being called away from a battle on the world Christophsis in order to rescue the son of Jabba the Hutt (yes, you read that right, Jabba has a fucking kid), and it quickly devolves into four seemingly separate “episodes” that never actually feel like a full story but technically are all connected. The ridiculousness of this plot combined with a bad sense of humor brings it down, and there is no way this film deserves to be a part of the theatrical Star Wars canon.

But, just because the film fails as a theatrically released Star Wars film doesn’t mean that it fails on other terms. See, this “film” isn’t really a film, but rather a bafflingly marketed and constructed television pilot that combines four episodes meant to introduce the characters of The Clone Wars TV show and set up the lighthearted tone the show holds onto for its first season. In that respect, Clone Wars actually works. Each of the four set-pieces of the pilot all accomplish different things: the first set-piece on Christophsis establishes Anakin and Obi-Wan’s relationship as it will play out for the rest of the show and introduces Ahsoka Tano, surprisingly selling Anakin taking her on as an apprentice pretty well; the second section introduces the clone army as actual characters, rather a faceless proxy army, Captain Rex, and Asajj Ventress while letting us see Anakin’s first attempts at being a teacher; the third set-piece introduces Padme Amidala and the political and underworld arenas of Coruscant she’ll reside in; and the fourth set-piece introduces Count Dooku as he will be presented throughout the entire series, allowing Christopher Lee to transition him from an adversarial mastermind into an over-the-top campy villain.

Don’t get me wrong. As far as TV pilots go, it’s a little underwhelming and not the most interesting thing you’ll ever see (even if you’re grading it on a curve for being the pilot of an animated kids’ show). But it works a damn sight better as a TV pilot than it ever could as a feature film, and had it aired as a two-hour special on Cartoon Network like was originally planned, it would not have gotten nearly the level of backlash it did from fans and critics like me who found it intensely underwhelming.

That’s really it. There isn’t much to talk about with this film. It has a consistently annoying tone, no real thematic tissue holding things together, and the performances by most of the actors are fairly underwhelming. The only standouts on display are Christopher Lee, reprising his role as Count Dooku for the final time (I know it’s been said, but this guy seriously never gave a bad performance in his career), Samuel L. Jackson, reprising his role as Mace Windu (you could make the same argument with this guy too), and Matthew Wood, who voices the battle droids in this film. Now, let’s be real, the decision to make the battle droids constant comedic cannon fodder is dumb, but Matthew Wood sells it like a pro, imbuing the droids with a level of personality that makes their poorly written attempts at comedy come off as charming, and when the writing of these jokes improves across the series, Wood is right there ready to use that material to make the droids pretty funny at times.

Star Wars: The Clone Wars (Season 1)

This is probably the best time to point out that Star Wars: The Clone Wars is really weird to watch because for some unfathomable reason it was aired, written, and produced out of chronological order. This makes viewing it chronologically on Netflix a pain, because you have to bounce around a whole lot just to see the first three seasons in their proper order, and as a result you see glimpses of the improvements in writing and storytelling from the later seasons but are still forced to sit through the slog of the first season that’s only interested in telling safe, episodic stories that don’t challenge the characters or the audience in any significant way. For what it’s worth, it’s still probably the best order to view the series in, as it paints a much more complete picture of the Clone Wars itself, but I found myself annoyed with the logic of airing and producing the episodes out of order, regardless of whether I watched it in the order it aired or the chronological order.

This strange ordering of episodes also isn’t helped by the fact that it pushes the series premiere episode, which is a genuine delight, to being seen after about five episodes and the feature film pilot. It is definitely a better introduction to the goals and aims of the writers than the feature film ever was.

The premiere episode of The Clone Wars follows Yoda on a diplomatic mission to persuade the king of the Toydarians to join the Republic. The episode’s main conflict arrives when Yoda’s vessel is attacked by a Separatist warship and he must land on the surface with only three clones by his side. Meanwhile, Count Dooku and Asajj Ventress are attempting to lure the king of Toydaria into joining the Separatists by proving to him that the Separatists are more capable of protecting him and his people than the Jedi and the Republic. Ventress challenges Yoda to make it to their location by nightfall, and Yoda accepts, battling an army of droids with the help of those clones in order to reach the king.

This is a fairly basic premise with clearly defined stakes and characters, and in the hands of George Lucas, it probably would have turned into twenty minutes of Yoda engaging in meaningless conflict where he doesn’t run into any significant challenges. In the hands of Dave Filoni’s team, however, this episode becomes a chance to reclaim the character of Yoda as he was presented in the original trilogy, and it’s truly amazing to see this Yoda again. Unlike in the entirety of the prequel trilogy, the Yoda we get to see is not the introspective mopey Yoda, but the silly, unpredictable guru that pranks Luke in order to test and teach him. Yoda’s students in this episode are the clones that travel with him, and he asserts to them that they are not the same faceless drones that Lucas intended, but unique individuals with differing skills and internal lives. Filoni’s team even has the wisdom to play Yoda’s strange behavior and unpredictability directly into fight scenes, as he outthinks droids with ease and uses risky strategies to play the droids’ advantage in numbers against themselves. By letting us see Yoda the incorrigible trickster again, The Clone Wars lets us know that it cares about recapturing the wonder and magic of the original trilogy, and that makes this first episode an incredible introduction to the show.

This episode also makes clear another one of Filoni’s goals, albeit in a much subtler manner. As I mentioned last time, the Toydarians as they are presented in The Phantom Menace are a harmful racial caricature of Jewish people, and that racism makes parts of The Phantom Menace pretty difficult to watch. This episode, however, hints at the way the Toydarians will be treated throughout the rest of the show. It shows the Toydarians as a peace-loving people that draw on a cultural heritage with an uncanny resemblance to ancient Judaism. This comes through far less in this episode than it does in later episodes, but throughout the show, the Toydarain people are essentially the equivalent of the Kingdom of Israel under the rule of King Solomon. They are incredibly wealthy and influential, they have a rich, long-standing culture, and they are ruled by a wise King who ultimately desires nothing but peace. I will admit that my connection with my Jewish heritage is a bit weak, so I am not the best person to judge whether this is still hurtful, but it seems to me that by keeping the Toydarian connection to Judaism and replacing racial caricature with a connection to a great cultural heritage, Filoni’s team effectively reclaims the Toydarians. This isn’t to say that their work makes the racism of the first film any less hurtful–far from it–but it adds a dimension to this alien race that, in my eyes, makes them far less hurtful to be associated with.1

Most of the rest of the first season doesn’t quite hit the heights this episode does, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t solid episodes throughout. Some standouts are “Rookies,” which introduces us to the character Fives as he and other newly deployed squadmates fend off a commando droid attack; “Lair of Grievous,” which is twenty minutes of General Grievous kicking serious ass when Dooku betrays him and sets a trap for him in his own home; “Dooku Captured,” where we first meet the pirate scoundrel rapscallion Hondo Ohnaka (voiced by the ever perfect Jim Cummings) after he captures Count Dooku; “Trespass,” which introduces us to the Talz people and sets up an interesting conflict between an authoritarian military society and a young woman who believes in the power of diplomacy; and “Hostage Crisis,” wherein a group of bounty hunters hold a group of Senators and Anakin hostage in order to break Ziro the Hutt out of prison.

There are two episodes in Season 1 that manage to be as strong if not stronger than the premiere and those episodes are “Jedi Crash” and “Defenders of Peace.” These episodes contain some downright excellent storytelling. They challenge Ahsoka by making her face the potential death of her master, forcing her to come to terms with the Jedi Code’s requirement to remain unattached, and they then quickly challenge the entirety of the Jedi order. We meet the Lurmen, a pacifist group of monkey-like creatures that culturally resemble aboriginal and African tribes, and they explain to the Jedi that their role in the Clone Wars has spread more pain and suffering across the galaxy than it has relieved. Their chief even points out the hypocrisy of the Jedi espousing a philosophy of peace while taking on a role as military generals! The episode moves from that point to challenge the Lurmen chief, as he must accept that pure pacifism isn’t an adequate philosophy when their village is attacked by Separatist forces testing out an experimental weapon, and the younger generation has to stand up and fight so the older generation’s insistence on absolute pacifism doesn’t get them all killed.

It’s seriously really good. And George Takei is in it too. Go watch it now even if you’ve already seen it. I promise you’ll thank me afterwards.

What’s wrong with the rest of the season then? Well, nothing really major. It’s passable kids’ television, but most of the episodes I haven’t mentioned by name don’t offer any challenges at all. The closest we get are in the episodes set on Ryloth, wherein a revolutionary insurgent is forced to work with a Senator he believes is corrupt and uncaring (who on the reverse believes the insurgent to be power hungry and after control of the planet), but these two characters aren’t given enough screentime beforehand for this to be meaningful to us. The other episodes are even worse, with the episodes surrounding the Separatist battleship Malevolence being solely concerned with sending the characters on MacGuffin quests and having them triumph due to Anakin being a better military strategist than Grievous. It’s fine, and well-constructed I guess, but it’s honestly pretty boring and uninteresting, and the next time I watch this show, I imagine I’ll be skipping past most of these episodes.

Star Wars: The Clone Wars (Season 2)

The second season of Clone Wars is about as solid a season of television as I can possibly imagine.

To be clear, it’s not the greatest season of television I have ever seen. But damn is it good. Pretty much every single episode in this season either challenges the characters personally, raises the stakes for conflict in the universe, or calls the morality of the Republic and Jedi Order into question. It starts off with “Holocron Heist,” in which badass bounty hunter Cad Bane breaks into the Jedi Temple and steals a holocron for Darth Sidious in order to kidnap Force-sensitive children across the galaxy. And then there’s “The Deserter,” where Captain Rex meets a clone trooper who went AWOL and established a family on an unoccupied planet, “The Mandalore Plot,” which has Mandalorians being awesome and Obi-Wan being a massive flirt, “Cat and Mouse,” which has Anakin piloting a stealth fighter against a Separatist general who is literally the only person who knows how to fight against those…

If I wanted to, I could spend a lot of time writing about each and every episode and their strengths, but that would take way too long, so you’re just going to have to trust me when I say that the entire season is solid as hell. Instead, we’re going to take a look at two standout story arcs that take place over multiple episodes in Season 2 and dissect them in detail to look at why they work as well as they do.

The first arc we’re going to look at are the episodes that follow Anakin, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Barriss, and Luminara as they lead Republic forces in the Second Battle of Geonosis in order to destroy a droid factory that has been recaptured by Separatist forces. Our heroes arrive with a massive Republic force, but the Separatists have them outnumbered even still. Their plan doesn’t survive first contact with the enemy, and Anakin and Ahsoka are forced to fight their way through immense odds just to get to their original landing point. After they are reunited, Anakin and Luminara work together to serve as a distraction while Ahsoka and Barriss sneak into the droid factory in order to plant explosive charges and stop the production of endless reinforcement for the Separatists.

What makes “Landing at Point Break” and “Weapons Factory” special isn’t really their plot. The mission our heroes are on isn’t particularly complicated, nor is it even that novel of a story idea (especially considering that we’ve already seen a pretty boring Battle of Geonosis in Attack of the Clones). These episodes are special because they completely shatter the perception of the Jedi as genuinely unstoppable warriors that dominates the prequel trilogy and most of the episodes of this show. Anakin and Ahsoka’s fight to reach Obi-Wan is desperate, and while at no point do they stop being powerful warriors, they are quickly forced to turn to clever tactics and their wits in order to get past the Separatist forces that would block them from their goal.

That same desperation is present in Ahsoka and Barriss’s quest to infiltrate the droid factory. They’re forced to sneak through behind enemy lines, going through a hornet’s nest where any wrong move will get them caught and lead to their failure. And you know what the writers decide to do? They have Ahsoka and Barriss make one mistake, wake one Geonosian, and when that Geonosian catches up to them, their mission is nearly brought to complete failure and they are forced to bunker down in a droid assault tank in order to both set off their own explosion and have a chance at survival. They are then stuck underneath a mountain of rubble and debris with little oxygen, and Ahsoka only barely manages to send out a signal to Anakin using her communicator, letting him know they’re still alive and leading him to continue the search until they’re rescued. These episodes are tense and filled with danger, and I find it genuinely impressive that Filoni’s team was able to get such great mileage out of a story that so easily could have turned into a retread of the battle from Attack of the Clones.

The next two episodes we’re going to look at are “The Zillo Beast” and “The Zillo Beast Strikes Back,” which besides being regrettably named, are filled with some of the most interesting and challenging material in this series. These episodes follow Anakin and Mace Windu, whose use of an electro-proton bomb on the planer Malastare causes an ancient beast to awaken in a clear nod to the Godzilla film franchise. This beast is genuinely fearsome, as its scales are strong enough to resist even a lightsaber, but Mace Windu and Anakin argue against Malastare’s leaders, who want to kill the Zillo, as to do so would be to take the innocent life of a creature that is the last of its kind. Anakin is eventually able to argue that the creature’s impervious scales would be useful for military research, so he and Mace Windu devise a plan to stun the beast and take it back to Coruscant, in order to trick the Malastare leaders into believing it is dead. When the Zillo arrives on Coruscant however, Palpatine quickly pushes to kill the beast using Malastare fuel, which the creature is weak to, and when his scientists fail to administer a lethal dose, the Zillo breaks free and wreaks havoc on the streets of Coruscant in a number of clear nods to Godzilla and King Kong. Eventually, the Jedi are able to kill the beast by hitting it with a lethal dose of fuel, and despite the lives they managed to save, all of the Jedi deeply regret the loss of the Zillo beast’s life.

The nods to Godzilla and King Kong are some of the coolest things about these episodes, but beyond that, these episodes have some pretty challenging thematic content. For one, this is the first time we get to see the Jedi Order faced with a legitimate moral dilemma, as for a lot of reasons, killing the Zillo is pretty defensible, but it still goes in direct violation of their Code. They decide against killing the Zillo, but because of their use of deception and pragmatist arguments, the Zillo ends up being put in a place where it will have even more power to do harm, close to a person who wants it to harm people so it can be put down rather than kept alive. In a lot of ways, Anakin and Mace Windu’s decision to bring the beast back to Coruscant is reckless and misguided, and we are shown just how blind the Jedi are to the dark forces that surround them on their homeworld. It is this blindness that leads them to do the very thing they sought to avoid: taking the life of an innocent creature that is likely the last of its kind. The shadows of the Dark Side are everywhere, and when the Jedi are too blind to see their own mistakes, innocents like the Zillo end up suffering more than the Jedi ever will.

Star Wars: The Clone Wars (Season 3)

This is where it starts to get incredible.

Like, really fucking incredible beyond anyone’s wildest expectations.

Season 3 of The Clone Wars does more to expand the mythology of the Star Wars Universe than George Lucas has done since the release of Return of the Jedi.

I hear what you’re saying. “Jacqueline, how can you possibly make that claim? Lucas made three prequel films after Jedi that included important details on the world of Star Wars, the Republic, and Jedi Order that it’s impossible for a single season of television to outdo that.” Lucas did a lot after Jedi, and I am not trying to deny him or his importance to this universe. George Lucas, however, was entirely wrapped up in his goal of telling a story about a fascist government’s rise to power, and in focusing on those political details, he lost sight of the wonder and mystique that makes the Star Wars Universe as compelling as it is. Dave Filoni and his team, however, do everything they can to further Lucas’s message in the prequel trilogy, and they do that without losing sight of the fascinating mysticism surrounding the Force, the prophecy of the chosen one, and the tug and pull of balance between light and darkness that defines the universe.

Now, there legitimately isn’t a bad episode in this season, but like last time, two arcs told over multiple episodes rise to the top and that’s what we’re going to focus on.

The first arc that does this is the Nightsisters arc, which follows Asajj Ventress after she is betrayed by Count Dooku and left for dead. She manages to survive her ship being fired upon by another Separatist warship, and she returns to her home planet to the witches of Dathomir in order to find her heritage and get help in her quest for revenge against her former master. She and the seemingly invincible witch Mother Talzin first target Dooku directly, sending Ventress and two Nightsisters in with cloaking magic and a poison designed to weaken Dooku and make him easy to kill. Dooku is still a force to be reckoned with, however, and he dispatches Ventress and her sisters without significant difficulty. Ventress and Talzin then hatch a more sinister plan, testing the males on the far side of Dathomir until they find one who is worthy and take control of his mind so he can be planted as a traitor in Dooku’s ranks. When Dooku takes this man, named Savage Oppress,1 under his wing and trains him as an apprentice, Ventress sneaks into Dooku’s vessel and makes Savage turn on his new master. Her plan fails, however, and Savage quickly regains control of his mind and turns on the both of them, escaping back to Dathomir and seeking guidance from Mother Talzin, who tells him of a “brother” he must seek while showing him a vision of the Sith Lord Darth Maul, a Zabrak and Dathomir Nightbrother just like him.

We’ll talk about Maul next time, when we actually get to see him in action, but suffice it to say, closing out a set of episodes that explores the dark mysticism of the Star Wars Universe by promising the return of one of Star Wars’ most badass villains is a pretty risky decision, as is the depth of exploration of the Dark Side that we get to see here. The Nightsisters are absolutely fascinating on their own as a less-than-savory mystical underbelly that neither identifies as Jedi or Sith, and Mother Talzin is an imposing figure who, if she did not prefer to keep to herself and her coven, would be a far greater threat to the galaxy than the Sith could ever dream of being.

Of course, the main attraction of these episodes is that they finally put Asajj Ventress to use as the complex character she was always meant to be. Ever since I was a little girl watching Genndy Tartakovsky’s Clone Wars animated mini-series, I’ve been obsessed with this character. She has such a rich and tragic backstory, and as a young girl with her own demons boiling up under the surface, Ventress appealed to me with her mastery of the Dark Side, dual lightsabers, and dominatrix-like attitude (which is turned up to a ten in The Clone Wars, as she is referred to as Mistress by everyone around her). Up until Season 3 though, The Clone Wars didn’t really put her to good use. Sure, she was an assassin, and she had those dual lightsabers, but in this show she has been far less of a pure, unadulterated badass, as she’s the villain and the heroes have to beat her.

These episodes turn that on its head perfectly. Dooku’s betrayal of her makes sense, in only the way an abuser’s decision to abuse can; she has consistently failed to achieve victory against the Jedi after all, and as we see her backstory unfold over a few short flashbacks, watching her being taken from her family as a child and witnessing the murder of the Jedi who taught her how to use the Force, Dooku’s betrayal becomes an opportunity for her to finally exert some agency over all of the horrible things that have happened to her. She will have revenge against Dooku, because damnit, this is the first time she’s ever been powerful enough to strike back against the people who have hurt her the most. It becomes even more heart-wrenching to watch as any knowledge of the prequel trilogy’s storyline lets us know that she is doomed to fail in her quest for revenge, as Dooku survives until Revenge of the Sith to be killed by Anakin Skywalker. Despite having the power to strike back against her master with “dark magicks” and a monstrous warrior, she still ends up without enough power to take any emotional closure for herself through revenge.

The second arc of note in this season is the arc set on the planet Mortis, following Anakin, Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan as an ancient distress signal calls them to an incredibly strange planet.

But I’m not going into detail on those episodes.

They are amazing. Make no mistake.

But I would not dare spoil the details of what happens in them to anyone who hasn’t seen them.

Trust me, just take my word on this, and go on Netflix, to Season 3 of Star Wars: The Clone Wars, and watch “Overlords,” “Altar of Mortis,” and “Ghosts of Mortis” right now. If you don’t watch anything else from this show (and seriously, you should, it’s great), then still watch these episodes. You don’t even need that much context to enjoy them, because as long as you accept that Anakin has an apprentice named Ahsoka, literally anything else you could need to know follows logically from Anakin and Obi-Wan’s characterizations in the prequel films. You have my word, a Jacqueline Merritt guarantee, that you won’t regret the time you spend checking these episodes out.

Next time, hopefully not two months from now, we’ll explore the rest of The Clone Wars, the comic Darth Maul: Son of Dathomir, and the novel Dark Disciple. See you then!

Critical Eye Criticism is the work of Jacqueline Merritt, a trans woman, filmmaker, and critic. You can support her continued film criticism addiction on Patreon.

1Any of my Jewish readers who disagree with my belief that the Toydarian’s are less hurtful because of their characterization in The Clone Wars are more than welcome to challenge me on that, as I am open to hearing any criticism of my argument here.

2I could also go into more detail on the character of Savage Oppress and how he is actually quite fascinating despite having an absolutely terrible name, but exploring his character is best left for our exploration of Darth Maul in the later seasons, as their arcs are fairly closely intertwined.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Mira protection squad rise up….dw just pull out the picture of Karasu in your wallet and just say ummm I’ve got a bf..!! /j but fr stay safe!!! It’s crazy how this still happens everywhere like leave people alone!!!

I’m crying the word count alone still has me REELING like omg….guys this is not a fic atp this could be a whole novel….

Ok wait but continuing I forgot to mention this is such a minor thing but THE TAJ MAHAL OUT OF HAIR??? I did not need that visual either oh my god

And not to worry! I turned back pretty fast I’d only gotten to the part where Karasu calls to talk about being captain and then I was really like ummm wait a minute….so all good!!! I fr was piecing together the story up till that point like “oooh ok in college….ok somehow we made a deal with Karasu got it…” LMAO my fault for running to read without actually reading properly before I started the actual fic portion!!

Ugh baby Karasu is so squishy…I can just imagine pinching his cheeks shdgsjshs speaking of that line where y/n is walking with him after his first game as captain and she compares his baby face to his current face “all angles and gloom and doom” LMAOOO ok but that swimming scene>>>> their bond >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

YAYOYUKI guys it’s just the quadruple Y ship Y to the fourth power LMAO I’m imagining yuki in that meme reaction pic with the person with their arms in the area and their chains breaking LMAOOO

NO IT WORKED SOOOO WELL!!! Honestly I think you’re the master of this like writing characters in love but they don’t know they’re actually in love yet…so good….chefs kiss…..but omg yeah with Aoyama!!! I loved how that was in the story too and you could feel the difference between their relationships!! I’m ngl though I’m not even deep in the fandom or even content in general but whenever I read Aoyama I kept thinking of the dude from mha LMAOOOO I know Aoyama isn’t a super u bc Lemmon last name but that was the first face that popped into my mind shsgsgshsh

The bfb sisters >>>>> ok but so real kaneshiro PLEASE give us NAMES this just reminds me of Barou’s LN too where his sisters are literally referred to as “the 1 year old” and “the 0 year old” like BRO JUST GIVE THEM NAMES!!!! I do really enjoy how we get to see both sides though!!! Like both being friends with the younger and older sister, very refreshing getting to read about both sides!!

NO BECAUSE I ALMOST SCREAMED HAHAHA like bro carried you to your apartment in the middle of the night, gave you water and food, cleaned you up and REMOVED YOUR MAKEUP and oops, to the streets he goes /hj….I also thought y/n hitting otoya up to ring her in was funny LOL I honestly live for the little interactions with other characters I love how it builds a whole little universe within the fic world!

Where would Karasu nation be without you…and OMG MORE KARASU REQS??? Guys Karasu nation is GROWING all thanks to you o7 gotta take a Karasu intermission LMAO but speaking of if there’s anything in the Hiori LN you want reinterpreted…don’t be shy..LOL I had it TLd but I think the wording needs some refining because it was definitely clunkier than the ones I did recently LMAO

Oooo omg plane ride again!! Manifesting no motion sickness to the airport..!!!! And no we knew in our hearts that you were cooking in silence….we trust….

-Karasu anon

LMAOOO WHIPPING OUT A BADLY EDITED PHOTO OF ME NEXT TO KARASU LIKE “so sorry but i’m actually married 🙄 yeah it’s a committed relationship so go away 🥱” JFJDJS i’m dead 😭 nah fr i don’t understand how it’s such a problem STILL but oh well 😐

apparently according to google a novel is anything above 40k words SO TECHNICALLY i did write an entire novel abt karasu based on a song from victorious 😭 that is the most ridiculous sentence i think i’ve ever formulated JFKSJFJSK what even…it’s what my man deserves though 💖

OH MY GOD THE TAJ MAHAL OUT OF HAIR it was actually a reference to this disney xd show that my brother, my best friend, and i watched as kids called lab rats and at one point one of the characters makes a “buckinghair palace” and is planning on making a “taj mahair” it was a very random reference LMAOAOA but i like throwing things in like that to make the world seem richer?? like i could’ve just had otoya say that his sister had a bad roommate but adding in that specific (and gross) detail just made it seem like there’s things going on in the background even when the reader isn’t there if that makes sense

LMAOO i can fr see how that would be confusing 😭 the 41.6k words really got to you huh 😰

HAHAHA no but y/n is so real for that because imagine you’re used to adorable squishy baby karasu and then all of a sudden BAM he’s all chiseled and gorgeous?? but you’re “not attracted” to him because he’s “like your brother” so you can’t even appreciate that part 😩💔

PLSSS yayoyuki my otp all those y’s mean they’re meant for each other 🤩 LMAOOO yukimiya breathing a sigh of relief that he’s actually chill for once

AHHH YESSS MY FAV TROPE i love when characters don’t understand their feelings it’s truly so much fun because it’s such a good way to create tension without feeling forced or annoying…yesss the way y/n and aoyama are chill but you can FEEL how she doesn’t love him but then her with karasu even though she doesn’t realize it the love they share just seeps into every interaction they have 🥹 PLSSS icl i know nothing abt mha and would prefer to keep it that way 😰 to be honest i just went on the japanese census and picked one of the earlier names on the list which happened to be aoyama (because it starts with an a i suppose)…no reference intended there

kaneshiro so allergic to women he won’t even give them names 😔💔 literally the only girls with names are isagi and bachira’s moms + anri 😭 i can never write a bllk fic without ocs because i NEED female friendships in my stories!! and agreed that it was rlly fun to see the difference in liking your friend’s older brother versus the younger brother as there are different associated stigmas and whatnot that come about from it

KARASU SAID “right let me just be the ideal bf real quick” AND GOT THE BOOT FOR IT 🥲 i can’t even blame him for kissing her/confessing at that point because wdym he went through all of that and then told you he’d never had a girlfriend because he was in love with someone who’d never love him back and you have the audacity to say “damn who would ever say no to you??” 😭⁉️ he’s more patient than me fr…okay but lowkey it’s so funny to me that he saw y/n when he was four years old and he IMMEDIATELY locked tf in…like THAT was the ONLY GIRL he wanted from that moment on 😩

otoya was so much fun to write in this au 😭 like the way he’s so nonchalant and all…he knows exactly what’s going on because he’s good w girls but he has 0 interest in getting involved because he needs to protect his peace!! like i said w the taj mahal thing i love throwing in little moments that make it seem like the characters all have their own lives separate from the plot…for example the “crazy girl” from otoya’s group project that he mentions very easily could be a love interest for him if you think abt it ☝🏻 like “crazy girl” just wants a good grade and slacker otoya thinks he can flirt his way out of doing any work but she’s having NONE of it and they end up falling in love based on that?? can you imagine he’s like two minutes late to the meeting and she’s like “where were you 😐” and he’s like “my roommate’s older sister’s best friend was showing me where to get non-keurig coffee” and she doesn’t even believe him because she’s heard many dumbass excuses in her life and that is the worst one yet 😭 idk that’s just a random example but it’s just fun for me to throw in those random little threads!! i think like you said it really helps to build a universe within the story and make the plot as well as all of the characters feel more whole and well rounded as opposed to flat and one dimensional 🤩

at this point i think i’m basically a karasu account LMAOO nobody remembers my roots as a nagi fan anymore 😟 yes i have a couple of reqs for him which is rlly exciting!! eek i’ve been having trouble getting into the hiori mindset but i NEED TO because those two reqs are from my 500 follower milestone event which was ages agooo like they’re literally from JUNE 😭 ugh trust i will cook when i get the chance though!!

YESS PRAYING NO MOTION SICKNESS!! we still have a little less than a week left before we leave so going to relax and enjoy the vibes but tbh i am excited to return to america…the glorious land of ubiquitous air conditioning and everyone wearing deodorant…LMAO 😭🙏🏻

[referrix]

So I spent last night trying to find one shot just so I could fully illustrate why Stella’s attic closet is bullshit. I think her attic closet vexes me almost as much as Bloom and Flora’s window and it’s height and distance from the balcony window from the outside.

I feel like season 8 made it worse though, because they reduced the number of floors and rooms along the length. Like I’m just getting around to wrapping my head around the dimensions of Alfea 1-7, and suddenly it’s less than half the size and the rear (East and South?) towers have had their tops lopped off!

And I know there’s people out there that think the only way up to the obs deck is flying but theirs a perfectly functional (and insane) external staircase and spiral staircase up to the top.

But now that it’s half the height you can walk out from the dorm hall- allegedly!

And omg the baby elephant paths! My babies what did season 8 do to you?!

Cause yeah, the season 1-7 courtyard might be 70-100m across, (compared to season 8’s 30-50m,) but they had directional paths that made sense and let students get from pretty much anywhere to pretty much anywhere using the paths, or they could just walk across the grass if that wasn’t direct enough.

Season 8? Psh, no. You go to the fountain! You just want to cross the yard? No! Fountain first!

Even the split paths in the gardens run in a freaking horseshoe from one of the grand staircase’s show garden to the other. There’s no direct path of travel except to the fountain!

And speaking of the grand staircase-

And okay maybe it’s fine because the school is so much smaller but they’ve taken out at least two* staircases! The two that run along the mirrored side buildings right down the rear towers? Gone! Sacrificed to the show gardens! (*It’s three if you count the split central staircase as 2.)

And the show gardens? People used to be able to sit there!

People used to be able to sit and lounge all around the courtyard! Three schools had a “we didn’t die” celebratory feast on that thing! Now? Alfea’s students have to squish in around the fountain to watch the Winx band on stage.

The worst part is, season 8 Alfea feels too small for what it is. Yeah 1-7 is messed up and sometimes I can find goofs like missing grass panels, windows or doors, or walls where they aren’t usually, but once I started calculating there is some semblance of sense, as long as I accept the idea “Alfea is ridiculously bigger than I think it is, it’s a school for fairies.”

Like the floors, I calculated there’s technically five stories in the main body of the mirrored buildings, and split levels and mezzanines amongst that, but that’s accepting 4-8m ceiling heights and two story window banks, and internal walls made of windows but I can believe that because it’s a fantasy school for fairies and fairies fly.

Of course they have the bigger possible options for space.

And coming down from that to the small small small season 8 school is just… they don’t even have enough classrooms. They cut out three rooms along the length of the mirrored buildings.

I mean yeah the covered walkways are fine and I adore the upside-down floor lights, some of the new doors are really nice but the shrank the school and sharpened a lot of the lines, they’ve made the courtyard actively hostile to cross, it’s just. Such an ick for me.

Also season 8’s entry gate is gross. (Personal opinion no hate if folks disagree) Gimme back the magical wings that fold into the earth!!! They could even have the wings slide outward, they just. Green glass.

On the other hand I was wrong about being happy with my layout for the dorms. I’m about to start over for the fourth time, because first I forgot the dorm on the other side of the wall, and then I was making the rooms too big, but hey at least I’ve managed to track down the canon dorm bathrooms!

If only we’d gotten a better shot of the room. Still I think I can make it work!

I’m starting to suspect that some floor plans, actual floor plans, existed at some point, because Once I start using real world measurements to estimate dimensions off the screen, things do start lining up pretty well.

Except for Stella’s BS attic closet!!!!

Sorry for dumping the ramble on you.

The temptation to just go ham talking about all the differences between season 8 Alfea and literally every other season Alfea is so real.

Like, some of you may have noticed that something feels off about season 8 Alfea, beyond the (world’s worst) change in the courtyard garden/grass strips, the connecting walkways and the new satellite buildings, but did you all know it is genuinely a much smaller series of buildings in season 8?

Meanwhile: trying to put together a floor-plan of the Winx dorm, and it’s like 😭 because some shots are… umm… well let’s just say sometimes walls aren’t real because cameras need to angle?

I think the most frustrating part, other than the reading nook and three mystery doors*, is the fact the external windows do not match what the internal shots tell us to be true.

(*I have a floor plan atm that I’m decently happy with, and I even used one of the mystery doors to give them a bathroom that fit in the expected space… imma have to go back and check the hallway doors for distance between dorms.)

[kooktrash]

depend on me | jjk hybrid

summary | you’re so used to letting Jungkook do everything for you. he babies you almost and you’re both constantly reminded of the strangeness in your friendship. you’ve always loved him but he can’t see you as anything but the little bunny girl he used to protect. you change his mind

warnings | 13.1k words, bunnygirl!reader x human!jungkook, childhood friends, ddlg undertones, smut, rough smut, hybrid smut, oral sex, slight dubcon but not actually, breeding kink, daddy kink, table sex, jk shows you how strong he is, riding, rutting, cunnilingus, use of pet names, overprotective koo, dirty talk, past relationships, friends to lovers, AGE GAP [FOUR YEARS] heat cycle

Deja vu was never anything he was new too. Technically, he’s only experienced a couple times before but he remembers each time vividly. Jungkook doesn’t actually know if this counts as deja vu though.

It’s not a sense that he’s done this before, it’s more of a fact. He’s been in this same situation before, a few actually. It’s been so long though his brain short-circuits when it fishes the memories out his head. He visualizes them at the same time, side by side watching them quickly clone into even more times this has happened.

He feels bad every time it happens. He can’t imagine it feels nice to be the apparent cause of this so he always felt bad for you. But you should be the last thing on his mind during these times, he just can’t help it. He doesn’t like seeing you get the blame. It wasn’t your fault, it never was. If it was anyone’s fault it was his. He’s the one who never tries hard.

But still, even as he knows this, he doesn’t do anything to stop it. He lets it happen over and over again because he literally does not know how to change it from happening. There’s only one way for it to stop apparently but he was never going to do that.

“I’m just asking you to prioritize me as your girlfriend instead of Y/n.”

“It feels like you pay more attention to her than me.”

That’s the Deja vu part. It tends to be along the same lines so he calls it deja vu. Some girls might call it a red flag but he can’t understand why. He never understood why every girl was so bothered by it.

He never understood the constant dislike toward you. Okay sure you weren’t the nicest but you weren’t the meanest either. In his eyes you were nothing but a sweet bunny. It’s like no one can understand his friendship with you, they always expected something more lingering under the surface even if there was nothing there.

“I don’t get why I’m always the problem,” you sighed shaking your head as you looked at your friend, “It’s like they’re looking for someone to blame and I just happen to be the person for the job.”

“Oh please stop bullshitting,” Jimin rolled his eyes sorting through his hand of cards, “You are the problem. It’s all because of your lifetime crush on Jeon Jungkook.”

Other than Jungkook one of your closest friends is Jimin. He lives right next door and being some of the only hybrids on your floor you’ve managed to get close. Jungkook wasn’t too thrilled at first especially knowing Jimin was a hybrid as well but he couldn’t do anything about it. Jimin was a snow leopard hybrid with a long fluffy spotted tail that you loved petting and it was good for you to interact with others similar to you.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes sinking lower into your spot on the couch thinking back to what he was trying to tell you. Alright, fine. Yeah that was part of the problem but you always thought you were good at hiding it. You’ve been hiding it from Jungkook for years. Before you could plead your side of things your phone distracted you. It vibrated once with another text from Jungkook displaying—the fourth in the last ten minutes.

jungkook | I’m starting to think I really am the problem

y/n | no I am remember

jungkook | whatever I’m on my way home

“Ugh! I’m always put second!” Jimin whined throwing a pillow at you when you let your cards go to respond. You rolled your eyes setting your phone back down, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about being your best friend. Jungkook shouldn’t count since you’re in love with him,” Jimin said with a scoff as he reached for the pack and started putting the cards away. His tail was behind him swaying rhythmically making your eyes focus on the movement, your little fluff tail twitching.

“You have to stop saying that, he’s on his way,” you sighed making yourself comfortable on the couch as you stuck an arm out to reach for the spotted tail of his, “And you are my best friend. Jungkook is…”

“Jungkook is Jungkook, I know, it’s complicated,” he said mockingly like he’s heard you say it before, though he has. He sat next to you allowing you to pet his tail, “But if you’re not dating then you’re friends which means he’s actually your best friend and I’m just a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe.”

You smiled as you got up throwing yourself over Jimin in what you would call an embrace if he wasn’t fighting it so hard, “You are my best friend.”

“Is this a bad time?”

Both of your heads turned toward the door as Jungkook came in. He was taking his shoes off looking between you two with furrowed brows. You sat back fixing your hair as you released Jimin’s tail and looked up at Jungkook. He went to his room discarding his stuff before coming back to where the two of you were. He gave one more look to Jimin who was hitting the tip of his tail against your nose making it scrunch up while you giggled.

When Jungkook sat down you turned to look at him scooting closer until you were planted on his lap and his arms wrapping around your waist. Your nose twitched at the overwhelming scent of tangy perfume his latest girlfriend loved to wear and you didn’t like it. He let you nuzzle your face into his neck trying to scent him and rid the smell of some other girl.

It was always like this with Jungkook, he just never seemed to catch on why you did it and you’d never admit it. Of course you loved Jungkook, he was the sweetest human you’d ever met. Ever since you were kids he was always the one to comfort you after bullies pulled on your ears or got paint on your white fluffy tail.

Jungkook had always been one of the older neighborhood kids in your apartment complex. You’d lived there all your life and after school you would spend all your time at the complex park and walkways. Jungkook was four years older than you so you kept your distance at first. It wasn’t until you were five years old that a nine year old Jungkook approached you.

He’d been playing with his human friends when one kid decided to throw a rock at the little bunny hybrid playing by themselves—you were always playing by yourself. Jungkook remembers telling the kid to leave you alone, that you weren’t doing anything but they never listened. His friends made fun of him for sticking up for some hybrid but that never stopped him. Instead, he’d approached the small girl with droopy white bunny ears crying under a tree. He sat with you the entire afternoon trying to comfort you, telling you how cute you were compared to those little girls who were mean to you. He’d tell you not to waste your tears on them and that he’d protect you.

Just like that one afternoon turned into more. Jungkook had practically taken you under his wing forcing his friends to be nice to the bunny and leaving when they weren’t. He’d bandage up your bloody knees from tripping and wash off any dye thrown on your white ears. Kids were cruel to you growing up and Jungkook had made it his mission to always be there for you.

In middle school and high school it was harder for him to see you since he was a teenage boy with changing emotions. Girls his age and older caught his attention and he’d spend his afternoons with friends at arcades or game rooms. He’d make out with girls at parties and drink like all his other friends. To be honest he hardly thought about you in these situations.

When he would get home if he’d see you around he’d ask how you were doing but that was it. You were still the growing bunny hybrid he’d grown to care for so he always felt guilty when he couldn’t see you for a couple days. He practically had seen you grow up and put up with so much torment from your peers that he wanted to be the one who was there for you. The problem was your age difference, he couldn’t be hanging out with you all the time without people looking at him weird so he had to stop. He took your number instead so that you can rant to him about whatever you wanted and he’d respond.

His friends made fun of you every time they saw you. They’d poke at Jungkook and call you his girlfriend or his pet and he’d argue with them over it. There never understood his relationship with you and he never went into detail. In reality he just wanted to protect you. He’d always see you getting picked on outside and he never saw your parents. All he saw was a little kid always outside by themself and his need to comfort had never changed.

Maybe it had something to do with having an older brother but Jungkook always craved to have someone look up at him like that. To feel secure because he was around and trust that he’d be there through anything. You made him feel that way.

So, after he graduated high school and was moving to Seoul for university it had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. Having to tell you he was moving away was so hard, he still remembers seeing little 14 year old you crying. You yelled at him that day, told him you didn’t need him anyway and that he could go and never come back for all you care. That had hurt him more than his break up from his high school girlfriend. You’d ran off into your house and he couldn’t do anything about it.

If it wasn’t for his parents telling him of the little hybrid Jungkook used to be friends with moving to Seoul he would’ve never known. He tried visiting during breaks but as time passed his life had gotten busy. Four years after he left and you graduated you reunited again. He called you asking what your plan was when you got to Seoul and in the end he asked if you wanted to move in with him until you figured out what to do.

That was three years ago when you were 18, now you were 21 and the two of you still lived together as roommates.

“Kookie!” You whined wiggling off his lap when his fingers played with your tail, you crashed into Jimin scooting back, “You’re not even listening!”

Jungkook snapped out of his thoughts turning to look at you. His brow arched, “Hm?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “I asked what happened between you and Yuna.”

He let out a sigh running a hand over his face. He looked at Jimin wishing he was anywhere but here. He’d rather talk to just you but that didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon. With a shrug he said, “Well she basically said I don’t prioritize her and that she wishes I’d give her more attention.”

You made a pout shaking your head, “But you do prioritize her!” Jimin nudged you from behind but you ignored it. You knew what Jimin was thinking. He was wanting to know why you always did this to yourself. Why you never told Jungkook how you felt about him and instead let him go on and date whoever he wanted and then her upset when they break up.

You had a reason for it, of course you did. It was pretty simple too. You have always had a crush on Jungkook but you also have always known he’s different. He’s popular, he’s attractive, he’s nice. He doesn’t have any sort of quirk like pointed ears and a tail. He was the perfect example of a human male. He was always sought after by girls for as long as you could remember, girls who didn’t have anything off about them either and you just didn’t compete. So instead you bottled your feelings in hopes of staying by his side even if it was just as friends.

“I thought so too Bun,” Jungkook shrugged standing up and walking away. Jimin let out a sigh, “I’m gonna get going, I’ve got work in an hour.”

You waved him goodbye and made yourself comfortable on the couch. You watched Jungkook move around in the kitchen probably preparing dinner but you couldn’t think about food right now.

Right now all you could think about was the fact that yet another relationship of his was ruined because of you. You just don’t get it. Any time Jungkook introduces you to a girl he’s seeing you’re always on your best behavior. You’re nice and patient, you keep your distance from him and you try and make them feel comfortable whenever they’re over. Just because you couldn’t have him didn’t mean you wanted him to be alone. You wanted him to be happy and if he thinks whoever he is seeing will make him happy than you try your hardest to play nice. But it’s like no matter what you did it never worked. They always grew to hate you, always asked why you lived with him, why you couldn’t go off on your own. One even told you that the only reason he keeps you around is because he pities you—safe to say Jungkook never spoke to that girl again. Still, maybe they were right.

Maybe Jungkook really did just pity you like he had when you were kids and didn’t know how to ask you to leave. Maybe you were just taking up space, his personal space. You remember when he asked if you had a place to stay coming to Seoul. You’d told him now and he’d offered up his art studio to be your bedroom. He moved his things out and put a bed in for you.

Jungkook was in the middle of dicing up some vegetables for you, he was going to make soup with all of your favorite ingredients which were mostly greens. He looked up from his spot in the kitchen finding you laying down on the couch. Your ears dropped over your eyes and you were curled into yourself hugging one of the throw pillows. With furrowed brows he set the knife down wiping his hands clean before walking over to you. He took a seat at your feet, “What’s wrong?”

You didn’t say anything taking the pillow and pulling it over your head to hide under. His hand found it’s way to your back rubbing small circles, “Come on bunny tell me what’s wrong.”

You shook your head moving the pillow with and he sighed. He reached for the pillow trying to take it out of your grip only for you to turn on your stomach digging your face into the cushion. He let out a sigh taking your arm to pull you up into a sitting position before bringing you over to his lap, “What’s wrong?”

His lip stuck out in a pout when he looked over you face finding a stray tear slip from your eye. His heart broke at the sight and he was rushing to wipe it away, “Why are you crying?”

“Because it’s my fault,” you let out a sigh, “I ruined another relationship of your—“

“No, honey you didn’t,” his brows furrowed as he shook his head, “Don’t blame yourself when it had nothing to do with you.”

You were smaller than him in height which made it easier for him to coddle you but as he tried to you stood up. He called out for you but you ran to your room leaving him to trail after you only took her the door slammed in his face. He tried the doorknob knocking, “Come on Y/n don’t do this, let’s just have dinner and not think about it anymore.”

Still, you ignored him leaving him to eat all by himself and head to bed without seeing you again.

“Jungkook you just don’t get it,” Namjoon shook his head letting out a sigh as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Jungkook was in the middle of telling his group of friends what happened last week. You’ve been avoiding him the last couple of days and he doesn’t get why. He’s told you over and over again that his recent break up was not your fault. It was Yuna’s. She wanted to break up with him and she chose to blame you for it when you were nothing but nice to her. He’d see the way you’d come running with a smile offering her cookies and cake only for her to turn you down.

He was hoping talking to his friends would help him clear his mind but it seems to be having the opposite effect. Yoongi was brushing his tail as he spoke, “You know why this keeps happening but you want to act like it’s not a problem.”

Namjoon nodded, “Exactly. I’ve just got one question for you, okay?”

With a sigh Jungkook nodded waiting to hear what he’d have to say. He was thankful for the friends he’s made over the last couple of years. They were much more open minded than his friends back home but maybe it had something to do with their diversity. Namjoon, Jungkook, and Jin were all human with no extra perk while Yoongi and Hoseok were hybrids. Yoongi was a calico cat hybrid and Hoseok was a ferret. The group was balanced and diverse so they were much easier to talk to about his problems than his friends back home. Still, they didn’t seem to be on his side today.

“Say the next girl you meet is the one,” Namjoon began looking straight at Jungkook as they all sat around a table trying to have lunch between work shifts, “She’s everything you look for in a partner, you can genuinely see yourself spending the rest of your life with her. Let’s say she doesn’t mind your friendship with Y/n but she asks for one thing.”

Jungkook held his breath waiting for Namjoon to finish. Namjoon goes on, “She wants to spend the rest of her life with you and all she asks is for you and her to move in together. She wants Y/n to live somewhere else because it’d be inappropriate. What would you do then?”

“Y/n would just move in with Jimin,” Jungkook shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal but he tried to picture it. He’d have to tell Jimin about how you like your eggs in the morning and how you prefer your vegetables diced up. He’d give Jimin a list of foods you don’t like and foods you do. He’d show him what to do when your teeth begin to hurt and where to take you when your heat acts up—though he wouldn’t be comfortable you living with Jimin when that happens. Maybe he’ll just drive you to your heat partners himself so you wouldn’t have to worry about triggering Jimin—

“No, I mean what if this girl wants to live far from Y/n? She doesn’t want you to have to take care of anyone else,” Namjoon clarified, “But she’s your perfect match so you don’t want to lose her. What will you do when that happens?”

“I—I’ll…” Jungkook tried to picture it. He tried picturing this perfect imaginary person he’d want to spend the rest of his life with. Though if they were perfect they wouldn’t want him to distance himself from you, would they? No, no they wouldn’t.

“Jungkook this should be easy,” Hoseok cut in with a shrug of his shoulders, “You’d just be living separately so it shouldn’t be that hard to answer his question.”

“I know,” Jungkook looked down. It should be easy but it isn’t. He lived away from you for four years after high school and though he managed he’d be lying if he said he never wondered how his little bunny friend was. It’s why it was so easy for him to ask you to move in with him when you moved to the city. You’d grown up together in the same apartment building, the only time you were separated was when he moved away and he remembers how much it hurt you both when he did.

‘Go!’ Fourteen year old you had yelled at him, ‘I don’t care that you’re leaving. You can leave and never come back for all I care! I don’t need you! You’re just like everyone else anyway, all you do is throw people away when you don’t need them anymore!’

He tried to picture what would happen if his girlfriend really did ask him to live away from you. If the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with asked him to leave you behind what would he do? What would you say then?

He doesn’t think he can put up with you hating him again. He felt so torn when he first moved away that the second he found out you were moving to his city he had to keep you close.

“You’re stressing him out,” Jin pointed out catching Jungkook zone out in thought. He patted Jungkook’s knee, “He just means you have to think about your relationship with Y/n and how it’s affecting your other relationships.”

He did try and think about it for the rest of the day. Every time he thought about it though he couldn’t wrap his mind around what it meant. He hasn’t ever had to think about it. All the girls he’s been with in the past could never stand between you and him. It was just too different.

He had romantic feelings for them, of course he did. But what he felt for you was different, it’d always been. He’d never seen anyone protect you and that’s all he’d ever wanted. Why couldn’t he do that and be in a relationship at the same time? Why did they make him choose between them and you when they didn’t compare? His relationships never lasted more than a few months while he’s known you since he was nine. Now at 25 you’d think he’d want to settle down with someone just a little, and he does. He really does crave someone’s affection but not if it meant he couldn’t see you every morning and every night.

Jungkook has been asked numerous times why he doesn’t just date you. You live in an age where hybrid and non-hybrid couples exist and are accepted so why not? The truth is he’s never imagined you and him like that. Growing up you’d always been the younger girl he comforted in rough times. He’d remind you how important you were and how special too. He’d tell you that your bullies just picked on you because they thought you were weak and you weren’t. It had everything to do with your age growing up that had him never having any romantic feelings toward you and as you both hit adulthood he just never thought of you that way.

He’s also positive you’ve never seen him that way too. He’s seen the boys you’ve invited over and and the mean you’ve had for your heat. They were all hybrids, all taller and buffer. All had something special about them unlike him.

Hell, even your friend Jimin was so different from him. Jimin had soft pointed gray ears. He had the prettiest of spots on his tail that you absolutely adored. He’d see you fawn over Jimin’s special features that Jungkook just couldn’t compare. Even with Hoseok you’d play with him any time he was over always reaching for his tail and giggling when he did the same. You’d play with Yoongi who’d let you cuddle up against him because who didn’t like a cute little bunny like you? All Jungkook could do for you was make sure you never got hurt and even that he couldn’t compare with a hybrid’s strength.

When he got home later that day he found you doing homework at the dining table. Your ears were drooped to the side and you had a penstuck in your mouth for concentration. You jumped out of your seat the second you saw him and ran into his open arms, “You’re home!”

He smiled warmly carrying you back over to your chair and set you down. He combed his fingers through your hair making sure to touch that spot near the base of your ears that was a little sensitive, “What time did you get home today?”

“My last class was cancelled so I came home a little earlier,” you said leaning into his touch, foot thumping on the floor at the pleasure of being petted. He gently pulled his hand away to let you finish studying as he carried his work portfolio to his room. Unlike him who was working a full time job, you were still in University. You were in your second to last year while he worked at a production company during the week. You didn’t pay rent but that’s because he told you not to. He covered rent fully knowing you were in school with scholarships and financial aid and unless you had a job you wouldn’t have any money.

The simple fix was to get a job but he was not too thrilled about that. It’d be more hours in the day that you wouldn’t see each other and he can’t imagine you working some Night Shift alone where he can’t take care of you. Like he’s said before, he’s not even sure if your parents helped with anything at all.

After changing out of his work clothes he went to the kitchen rummaging through groceries looking for what to make for dinner. You and Jungkook split chores up evenly. You didn’t know how to cook so instead you cleaned while he made food when he was around. You’d both go grocery shopping and get things you needed. When you were home alone you mostly snacked until he made food.

“So what’d you do when you got home?” Jungkook asked as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows washing his hands at the sink. He looked over at the pen you had in your mouth, seeing the way the end was covered in teeth marks. Wiping his hands dry he reached for your box of teething sticks and took one out walking over to you. You looked up at him with rounded doe eyes and watched him pull the pen out of your mouth and hand you the stick instead. You gave him a cheeky smile and took it with an apology.

“I went over to Jimin’s and he introduced me to a new friend of his! He’s a tiger!” You sat with your knees tucked under you on the chair bouncing a little, “His name’s Taehyung and he smells so good! He smells like grass and honey. He says he likes to sleep in the sun and I do too! So we got along pretty quickly.”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed in discomfort. He didn’t like you friends with all these predators. You could seriously get hurt if you weren’t careful enough and if nobody was there to save you. Still, he just nodded letting you express your joy in meeting someone new, “His roommate is human too! Can you believe that? We had so much in common.”

Jungkook carried over a plate of vegetable chips over to where you were. He looked down at your homework and sat next to you hand feeding you when you asked him to. He smiled, “Just remember to be careful bun, make sure to call me if anything ever happens to you.”

You rolled your eyes despite the way your heart melted chewing thoroughly through the food he gave you, “I promise.”

Jungkook held your hand the entire way to his friend’s house. He knew how anxious you got sometimes surrounded by new people and he knew tonight that would be the case. He’d been invited over to Hoseok’s place on Friday since he was inviting a few people over he asked Jungkook to bring you along. You seemed eager at first but now that you were at the door you were timid. You kept looking around as if to make a mistake and he pulled you into his side, “We can leave if you want to.”

Before you could object the door was opening and Hoseok was smiling down at you both, “Good you’re here, come in! Drinks and snacks are in the kitchen. Don’t touch aux or I’ll kill you.”

With that you scooted closer to Jungkook. He rolled his eyes at his friend before leading you toward the kitchen. There were more people than he thought so he made sure to keep you close.

“Why doesn’t this open?” You held up a bottle with a corkscrew, trying to twist it off.

“You need a bottle opener,” he said simply hoping it’d satiate your curiosity. From the corner of his eye he could see you take a bottle and try and open it with a regular bottle opener instead of one for corkscrews. You hit the metal against the top. You did it over and over again letting out a whine, “It’s broken!”

“No honey, like this,” he took it out of your hands and took the right opener making sure to twist it on and show you exactly how to get it open.

“That’s stupid,” you turned away losing interest once it was finally open and looked at the crowd of people. Your eyes widened, “Taehyung!”

Jungkook’s head shot up immediately catching you just before you took off. He reached out to you but you were crossing the room toward a guy with black rounded ears and a striped orange tail. He smiled widely at you as you made your way up to him.

Jungkook set his drinks down on the table looking around the room as he tried to go after you.

“Jungkook! Come here for a second,” Namjoon called out to him. He looked over at his friend and a tall blonde next to him before looking back to you. You were smiling with the guy you called Taehyung and once he made sure everything was okay he went to Namjoon.

“Hey,” he mumbled reaching over the island for his drink.

“Hyeri this is my friend Jungkook, the one I’ve been telling you about?” Namjoon said with a smirk, “Jungkook this is Hyeri. Hyeri has been asking me to introduce you to her for a while now.”

“Thanks for the subtlety Joon,” the blonde rolled her eyes as her face flushed red avoiding Jungkook’s blank stare. He just got out of a three month relationship with Yuna and was already being thrown to the sharks. With a sigh he smiled, “He doesn’t know what being subtle means.”

At the other end of the party you and Taehyung were having a different sort of conversation.

“But he’s not my owner! He’s my friend, you can’t own a hybrid anymore,” you argued with your new friend Taehyung who teased you over your relationship with Jungkook. Turns out Hoseok and Taehyung roomed together in college and recently got together again. You were surprised to se whim here since you’d just been excitedly telling Jungkook about your new friend a few days ago.

“I know I’m kidding Bun!” Taehyung laughed ruffling your hair, “But what I mean is… you’re close with Jungkook, right? You don’t pay rent and don’t pay any bills. It’s almost like he’s your owner considering the little independence you have. What happens when he gets into a long term relationship with someone he really loves and she asks him to kick you out?”

Your ears fell forward shielding yourself as you thought about it. Would he kick you out? He’s never ever chosen his girlfriends over you but what if the next one was The One. Would he then? You don’t Ben have a job. You don’t have money. Jungkook does almost everything for you. Even when it comes to clothes he buys you what you need under the pretense of birthdays, holidays and special occasions.

“Well how do I become more independent?”

So you listened to what Taehyung had to say. The next time you saw Jimin you asked him if he could help you get a job and you kept it a secret from Jungkook. Until the job was secured you didn’t tell him what you were doing and even after you won’t tell him the real reason why you got a job.

You hated to admit it but Taehyung was right. You needed to learn to be more independent. Growing up you’d been so independent. Your parents weren’t ever around and you had to do everything on your own. It was until Jungkook came along that he let you feel safe and taken care of. When he left after high school you had to get used to doing things on your own, handling things by yourself. You’d gotten good at it too. That’s how you made it to college, by studying hard and getting scholarships and aid. Unfortunately you’d reverted back to codependency when you moved in with Jungkook. He made it so easy to rely on him and practically let yourself be babied and you were not a baby!

You could do things on your own even if people didn’t believe you and you were going to prove it. You love Jungkook and you’re tired of trying him down. You wanted him to find happiness and he was never going to be able to do that if you keep holding him back.

Jungkook had been fresh out the shower, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist when he came out to find you getting ready. With furrowed brows he approached you, “Where you going?”

Your hand froze as it applies the last layer of mascara to your eyes. Without turning to look at him you bit your lip nervously, “Work.”

His mouth parted in surprise, “Work? W-what do you mean work?”

You took a small sniff of his clean scent feeling your insides turn giddy. You could see his bare chest and the small water droplets that trailed down the ridges of his abs. Taking a big breath you turned to look at him acting dumb, “I didn’t tell you? I swore I did. I got a job with Jimin. Tonight’s my first night.”

“No, I would’ve remembered if you told me,” he moved closer to you leaving his spot by the door and coming up, “With Jimin? He works at a bar Y/n.”

“I know,” you shrugged, “And I had an interview there on Wednesday. Today’s my first official day, I’m excited.”

“But… But why do you need a job? Are you short on money? I gave you a few hundred last month for your birthday, do you need more?” He asked looking around your room, “Let me go get my wallet.”

He left before you could even argue and changed into something more suitable in the process. He came back to your room, “How much you do need honey?”

“Jungkook I don’t need money, I mean I do but not right now. I just think I should get a job, start supporting myself,” you shrugged standing up and looking at your reflection in the mirror. You wore a short black skirt and black top that emphasized the cute white fluff ball of your tail and white ears poking out your head. He shook his head catching himself staring a little too closely at the length of your legs, “But why? Why do you need to start supporting yourself?”

He knows he shouldn’t be against it. He should feel perfectly fine with you getting a job but he isn’t. He doesn’t get it. Why all of a sudden do you want to support yourself? You’ve been perfectly fine allowing Jungkook to take care of you. Were you growing tired of him? Did you plan on leaving? Was he becoming too overprotective of you? He let you run off with Taehyung the other night at the party. He doesn’t mind Jimin coming over to see you all the time or Hoseok cuddling you. He makes enough money to support you both so why?

You didn’t answer him and that bothered him even more. What didn’t you want to tell him? Did you meet someone? Were you planning on moving out? Did someone say something to you? Did one of his friends say something to you? He swears to god if someone tried to belittle your importance to him he’s going to flip.

“I’ll drive you,” he said instead of pressing the issue. You looked too excited and he couldn’t make you sad and worked up with all his questions. He drove you to the bar Jimin worked at happy to see Jimin’s car already there. He unbuckled your belt for you fixing your hair and lifting the fallen strap of your shirt onto your shoulder when it slipped.

“Call me if you don’t like it. Call me if they’re mean to you. Call me if you need absolutely anything, alright?” Jungkook’s hand cupped your face, “Please? Text me when you’re inside and when you’re off. I’ll pick you up. Text me how it’s going an—“

“I probably can’t be on my phone.”

“I’ll get down. I’ll just make sure everything goes smoothly and I’ll just drink at the bar for an hour or so,” he went to unbuckle his belt when your hand stopped his. He looked back at you with worried eyes, “It’s okay Kookie. I’ll be fine. I’ll text you when I’m off?”

Jungkook felt his blood boil at the sight. He opened the car door and slammed it back shut storming over to you. You smiled widely upon seeing him, “Kookie!”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he grumbled when you reached out to him for a hug. He glared up at the guy who’d been hugging you. He noticed how similar he looked to him. No tail, no pointed ears, just human. That almost seemed to annoy him even more.

“You’ve gotta meet my new friend Jisoo! He’s got a pet bunny and he says we’ve got the same color ears!” You said excitedly, “I wanna go see see him!”

“No!” Jungkook took a deep breath, “I mean, not right now honey it’s late. You’ve got class in the morning.”

With a pout you nodded turning to Jisoo and giving him an apologetic smile. Jungkook glared at him, why would that guy want you to go over this late to see a bunny anyway? Was that his code for wanting you to come over and do God knows what to you? He took your hand in his pulling you away as Jimin followed toward his own car.

Once you were inside you buckled your own belt and smiled, “Oh! But I am going to Jimin’s then. He’s gonna help me take drink orders faster so we’re gonna stay up and practice.”

“I’ll come with you,” Jungkook cleared his throat as he started the car trying to get home as soon as possible. You shook your head, “No it’s okay. I’ll just be next door and you’ll probably need to go to sleep soon.”

“But I haven’t seen you at all today bunny,” he sighed looking over to you. It’s true. This morning he had to leave for work early and couldn’t drop you off on campus so you had to get Uber to and from. Then you rode with Jimin to work today since you had the same shift and he’d been stuck in a meeting anyway. He’s been waiting for you all afternoon and now that you’re off you’re basically telling him you don’t need to see him. That hurts.

It’s like lately you would rather hang out with anyone but him. Yesterday he found you on the phone giggling over something Taehyung said. The day before you were telling him you’d like to open a savings account on top of a checking. It feels like over night you’ve decided you don’t need him anymore and that fucking hurts.

He complained about it to his friends the next day. You had to work again and he went over to Yoongi’s place after work for some drinks since he was just going to be home other wise.

“I just don’t get it. I feel like she doesn’t want me around anymore,” Jungkook sighed.

“I think you’re being dramatic,” Jin shrugged, “Shouldn’t you be happy? You’ve got all this free time now. You don’t have to rush home to make Y/n dinner or skip on a night out so she’s not home alone.”

“I agree,” Hoseok nodded looking to Jungkook, “And if I’m going to be honest I think you underestimate Y/n a lot.”

“I don’t!”

“You do,” Namjoon agreed, “You act like she can’t do anything by herself. Maybe she’s tired of you babying her all the time.”

“I don’t baby her,” Jungkook tried to argue but he couldn’t even explain himself. He does not baby you! He knows you can do things on your own he just prefers doing them. Ever since he left you for those four years he thinks back on everything he missed out on with you. He had the longest relationship during that time, a whole two years that quickly went down the drain when he told her you’d be moving in with him. She begged and begged him to explain why but he just kept saying the same thing over and over again. That he promised you as kids to always be there for you and he plans on keeping that promise he might to five year old you.

“You do,” Yoongi pointed out, “Don’t you ever wonder how she managed to do things on her own when you first moved here? Clearly she knows how to do things and she’s working on herself to be more independent So why do you seem so upset over it?”

“That’s not what bothers me!” Jungkook groaned throwing his head back into the couch, “What bothers me is that she has no time for me now. She’s always in class or working or hanging out with her new friends. I feel like she’s forgetting about me.”

Namjoon narrowed his eyes in thought, “I’m going to say something and I don’t want you to get mad at me because of it.”

Jungkook huffed already feeling himself get annoyed before Namjoon even said what he had to say. He tried not to react when Namjoon spoke, “I think you’re just jealous.”

“You love Y/n and I’m not talking about as a friend or anything. I mean you are genuinely in love with Y/n and you probably just never noticed. I think you keep seeing her as the little girl you used to care for and not the growing adult she is,” Namjoon pointed out, “You keep saying she’s forgetting about you but everyone knows that’s not true. I think you’re so used to Y/n only ever being focused on you that when she gives her attention to someone else—especially another guy, it makes you mad.”

“I’m…” he bit his lip feeling his heart race a little, “I’m not… I love Y/n but I’m not in love with her. It’d be weird if I was, wouldn’t it?”

He thought about it for a second. He is not in love with you. He can’t be. You were still that younger girl he wishes to protect, nothing more. If there was more to it wouldn’t he not be going on dates? Well to be fair he hasn’t gone on any dates since Yuna. Namjoon tried introducing him to Hyeri but the night he was supposed to get drinks with her was the night you were starting your new job. He’d been showered and everything but once he found out what you were doing he couldn’t bring himself to leave. He ended up calling her and telling her he wasn’t going to make it and stayed home to make sure if you needed him he’d be able to go with you.

And okay, yes, he did notice how much you changed when you first moved in with him. He was 22 and you were 18, you looked so different from the last time he’d seen you. You’d grown, the efforts of puberty taking full affect and yes it’d been a little hard at first to not focus on your sudden curves and assets. But still! He got over it pretty quickly when he realized that inside you were still that cute little girl he just wanted to protect.

“It’d be weird if you weren’t,” Yoongi cut into his thoughts coming back to what they’d been talking about, “Just think about it Kook. All these failed relationships because you won’t let Y/n go. Don’t you want to at least see if there’s anything between you two?”

They’re wrong. His friends are wrong. He was not in love with you, he just needs you. He’s just upset he feels like you’re brushing him off. He’s never once pictured you and him in any sort of romantic relationship. He’s never felt jealous when you go on dates or when you have heat partners—but was it because he’d know you’ll come home to him?

Right now he couldn’t even understand what you’re trying to tell him. You’re saving up to move out? TO MOVE OUT!?!?!

“But honey… I just… I don’t get it,” he shook his head following you into the living room, “Why are you saving up to move out? Did I do something to upset you? Just tell me and we can work it out.”

“Of course not Kookie!” You sat up on the couch, “I just… well I think it’s time I move out. I’ll give you back your art studio and you won’t have to worry about taking care of me when you meet someone new.”

“But I’m not even seeing anyone right now!” Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair feeling anxious, “And if I was I wouldn’t choose them over you!”

You shook your head. Sigh. You couldn’t do this right now. He just doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get that you need to move out. And he’s right, you have been distancing yourself from him but there’s a reason for it. Taehyung has really opened your eyes with that talk you two had.

You love Jungkook. No, you’re in love with him. That’s why you’ve been distancing yourself with work and new friends. Because if he does meet the right person you’re not sure how you’ll handle it. How will you put up with seeing him so in love?

So you’ve been trying to get yourself prepared for that hypothetical but realistic situation. But now he’s upset about it and you’re contemplating just being honest with him.

“I love you.”

He stopped pacing looking over to you, “I love you too Bun.”

You rolled your eyes slumping back into the couch, “No Kookie I mean I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time and I just don’t think it’s good for us to keep living together unless we both feel the same. We’re both adults and at some point our living situation and our relationship will come off as inappropriate, it already has.”

His brows furrowed. What did you just say?

You confessed to him last night and he had absolutely no idea how to handle the situation. It was so unexpected. How does one even prepare for that? All the sighs were there, he knows that, but it still took him by surprise.

You say you’ve always felt that way but that’s not true. It can’t be. If it was true… then that means all this time you’ve been in love with him. No. No!

It’s not true.

He knows everything about you. He would’ve known if you felt that way about him, wouldn’t he? If you felt that way about him why didn’t you say anything sooner? Why didn’t you get mad when he had a girlfriend?

Though he had seen you cry when you felt like he wasn’t paying enough attention to you. But he always thought you were just a needy bunny! You were high maintenance, he knows that, so maybe he just overlooked the signs?

“Do you mind driving me to work today?” You asked him. He snapped out of his racing thoughts from last night to turn and look at you, “Sure.”

He still can’t stop thinking about what you said, or what you said after: “Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to feel the same. I just hope you can understand now why I think it’s better that I move out.”

Once he had the keys and you were ready you both walked down to his car together. You’re perfectly fine, unlike him you’re not zoning out in thought. It’s almost as if you hadn’t made this crazy confession to him the night before! Maybe it wasn’t that serious to you? He’s not sure but he does know it’s all he’s been able to think about today.

He reached over to buckle you in only to find you doing it yourself and popping your AirPods into your ears essentially closing him out. He sat back, when did you get so… independent? He always puts your seatbelt on you. He always dices up your vegetables the way you like. He always makes sure his car has the exact scent you like. It’s like you don’t care about those little things he does for you even as you claim to be in love with him. He just doesn’t get when everything got so out of control that he doesn’t even feel like he knows you right now.

“Tomorrow I’ve got a meeting before week and a meeting after, I might not get to see you bun,” he cleared his throat as he stopped in front of your work. You just nodded your head opening the door. He wished you’d say more. He misses when you’d get upset about him being gone too long.

Biting your lip as you opened the door you paused. You’re trying to seem mature at the moment so Jungkook wouldn’t keep seeing you as a little girl but it was hard. Especially with what he just told you it makes you want to crawl back to him instead of heading to work. You turned back to him and pressed your nose against his.

His hand immediately flew up to pet your ear taking this small act of love and rolling with it. He still can’t make sense of what you’ve told him but at least he knows how to respond to this. He caressed that soft spot on your tall white ear you loved as you rubbed your nose against his, “Goodbye.”

“Bye,” he breathed out already missing your warmth when you pulled away. You came back to peck his cheek with a kiss giggling before you left for real this time.

You see, why can’t you be like that all the time? Why can’t you be all lovely like you’d always been instead of trying to push him like you’ve done recently. He just doesn’t get it! How can you say you’re in love with him just like that? Like it’s not a big deal! Then give him that soft little bunny kiss of yours even when his mind is racing in confusion!

You woke up the next day to an empty apartment. Jungkook had already told you he’d be home late today so you already knew he wouldn’t be at home in the morning either. What you couldn’t understand is why you woke up in pain?

You felt hot, kicking the sheets off and even going as far as removing your shorts. You checked the time, your first class would be starting soon.

Sitting up you tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes and stand but it physically hurt. Your stomach hurt and you felt like throwing up. With furrowed brows you sat back down trying to decide what to do. You’re already running late thanks to sleeping through your alarm. How did you even sleep through it? If you skipped a shower, didn’t do your make up or hair and skipped breakfast then you’d be able to make it to the bus stop. But all of that seemed like a lot of work and you had absolutely no desire to move off this bed at the moment.

You could call Jimin and see if he’s up but it was very unlikely. You could call Taehyung and see if he can come pick you up but by the time he gets here and drops you off your already be late for your first class.

“Ow!” You whined hunching over holding your hands to your stomach. You felt nauseous like you could throw up any second. Shaking your head you moved to lie back down.

Maybe you can sleep the pain away and not go to class today.

“I want someone recording from here,” Jungkook pointed at one corner of the room, “And here. Make sure you get both of theirs face and can you both please look at the camera when you talk?”

He pinched the skin between his brows. He had a meeting early morning about a new web video they’d be shooting and right after he had to rush on set. He’s been keeping himself busy trying not to think about you but he couldn’t help it. Last night you took an Uber back home and failed to ask him to go get you from work. He ended up knocking out so he hasn’t seen you since he dropped you off at work yesterday.

Right now he’s just hoping he can make it through the long day in one piece.

“What’s up with you today?” Yoongi chuckled as he came up to him. He just finished production for his own video and was checking on Jungkook’s progress. Yoongi and Jungkook were the only two of their friends who worked together and he’s thankful for that. But right now he doesn’t want to talk to Yoongi.

“Just tired,” Jungkook cleared his throat taking the bottled water one of the assistants brought him.

“So how’s Y/n? She’s still working at that bar?” Yoongi asked. Jungkook pretended to be too focused on the screens but in reality he wasn’t paying any attention. He huffed in annoyance running his hand over his face before turning to his friend, “Yeah. She is.”

“Alright sit down, take five,” Yoongi told him, “You look tired.”

After this small segment was recorded Jungkook called for a break allowing Yoongi to take him outside for a smoke break even if he didn’t smoke. He leaned against the railing crossing his arms in front of his chest as he waited for Yoongi to say something.

“What’s wrong with you? It looks like you haven’t been sleeping,” Yoongi said. It’s true. He hasn’t. He still keeps thinking about what you said and how you haven’t mentioned it since. And he feels guilty. He didn’t say anything back that night because he was genuinely taken by surprise. He’s happy he hadn’t, what if he said something he shouldn’t have?

For the past couple of weeks he’s been so confused by your behavior and by his disliking toward it he hasn’t once listened to what anyone around him says. He kept saying they’re wrong, that there’s no way you loved him like that but you just proved him wrong. And he doesn’t even have time to think about it before you’re brushing it under the rug like it doesn’t mean a thing. Like you could just say that to him and expect him to not care!

As if that doesn’t change your entire dynamic! And he just thinks about how you’re in class right now or on your way to work so he can’t even call and try and talk to you about it!

Except of course he’s wrong. He very well can call you because you didn’t go to class today. You were however on your way to work.

“You look like shit,” Jimin laughed when you came in. When you got closer he almost choked. He began to cough hysterically covering his mouth as he ducked down, “Holy shit.”

“What?” You sniffed yourself. You actually got up and showered before coming to work. He shook his head, distancing himself from you as he looked around at who was inside the bar. He approached you a little later on once he was able to calm down but he was still careful.

He’s never felt this way around you before. Jimin placed his hand on your waist hesitantly, “Are you feeling okay?”

You shook your head, “No. I don’t feel good I think I might be getting sick.”

Jimin shook his head still cautious as he took another sniff of your scent, “No bunny, you’re not sick.”

“Oh.”

“I think you should go home though,” he cleared his throat snapping himself out of his growing thoughts in concern. Before you could argue he was walking off toward the back office so he can find the boss. You brushed off his weird behavior trying to fan yourself as another heat flash passed. You wore some of the thinnest clothes you had today and yet you can feel yourself burning up.

Jimin fished his phone out of his locker pulling up his contacts and going straight to one in particular. It rang twice before someone answered, “Hello?”

“Jungkook hey it’s Jimin,” he released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, “Sorry if you’re busy but um… I think you should come pick Y/n up.”

“What?” Jungkook sounded alert now, “Did something happen to her? Where are you? Are you guys working? Do I need to take her to the hospital? How severe?”

“I think she’s going to get her heat,” Jimin whispered. The line went silent, Jimin’s bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he tried not breathe in your scent that was starting to filter through the entire place. If there were any more hybrids here he had to get off the phone and go be with you.

“I’m on my way.” Click.

Jungkook cursed at himself. He’s so fucking stupid. He’s been so distracted lately he hasn’t been looking at your heat tracker. You never pay attention to it. It’s always Jungkook who does and he’s the one who slipped up. His meeting had ended early today so he’d just been at him while you were at work. He’s been relaxing while you’ve been suffering. He can’t believe himself.

He barely had his shoes on correctly as he rushed out the door to his car. Jungkook definitely ran some yellow lights but he didn’t care. If Jimin was able to smell you who knows how many more hybrids were getting a good whif. He needed to get you out of there and get you to call one of the bucks you typically spent your heat with.

“Koo!” You jumped into his arms the second he stepped into the bar. He found about three hybrids there standing with you, one being Jimin. He held you up in his arms, you pressed your face into his cheek, “I missed you!”

“I missed you too honey,” he took your bag that Jimin handed him making sure to keep your legs wrapped around his waist, “Thank you.”

“I don’t feel good,” you whined nuzzling your nose against his neck. He didn’t smell as strong as the hybrids who’d been keeping you company but he smelled so much better. He smelled like Jungkook and that was your favorite.

“I know baby I am so sorry,” he rubbed your back soothingly as he led you out, “Let’s go home.”

You hissed in pain hunching over and clutching your stomach as you sat in his car. He reached over you and buckled you in as he started the car. The sooner he got you home the better. His chest tightened at the sight of you in pain and he doesn’t care if he gets a ticket, he’s speeding home.

In the middle of the drive you took the seatbelt off. He turned to glare at you when you suddenly leaned over the middle console and kissed his cheek. The car swerved a little but he managed to keep it straight. You giggled, “You smell so good Kookie.”

He smiled awkwardly, “Thank you honey, why don’t you sit back down?”

You did as told like the good bunny you were but you could help but keep looking at him, “You’re so pretty Kookie. You’re the prettiest man I’ve ever seen.”

His breath hitched, “Really? I think you’re lying to me bunny.”

“No! I’m a good girl, I don’t lie,” you said suddenly shaking your head and leaning back into him, “I would never lie to you Koo, I love you.”

Oh God there it was again. The reminder that you had feelings for him and he didn’t say anything. Fuck. Maybe that’s why you said it, because your heat was coming up and not because you actually meant it.

He struggled to get you inside the apartment with you begging him to carry you and he couldn’t argue over it.

Jungkook fumbled with the key when he felt a sudden wet softness on his neck. He tried to ignore it and clear his head but it happened again. You were licking his neck as he held you. You were licking his neck!

“Baby hold on. Once we get inside you can call Jaeho or Seokmin and they’ll come help you,” he breathed out trying not to let his eyes roll back when you nipped on his ear lobe.

“Don’t want them! Want you!” You whined wiggling in his grasp that he almost dropped you. He couldn’t believe what you were saying right now. This wasn’t right. He’ll have to talk to you about this when your mind clears up.

“Ah fuck!” His voice was shaky as he pushed the door open just as you began to grind your hips against him searching for release. He had to push you against the wall to keep from dropping you, “S-stop that bunny. You’re not t-thinking straight.”

His eyes rolled back when he felt you kiss his neck. He heard the door slam shut behind him but he couldn’t move. Not with you trying to grind against him and fuck this was not a good idea.

He could feel his member begin to betray him responding to the sudden friction. You kissed along his jaw trying to turn his face. His eyes squeezed shut, oh fuck what does he do?

He doesn’t think you can wait for one of your heat partners. He thinks, no he knows, you want to do it with him but that just wasn’t a good idea! What would that make of your relationship?

“Baby we should st-ngh,” he couldn’t help himself. The second you kissed the corner of his mouth he was melting. His eyes fell shut in a haze as you kissed hungrily against his mouth. His hand landed flat on the wall trying to keep himself up. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Yes, fuck! Exactly what you were thinking. You pulled away with a needy whine, “Please Koo, want you to fuck me.”

Oh fuck. He let out a growl that vibrates through his chest as he peeled you both off the wall. He stalked toward the next available surface swiping his hand over the discarded mail and placemats before setting you down on the table.

He’s so disappointed in himself. He didn’t even put up much of a fight. He kicked a chair out of his way as he let himself fully succumb to your seduction.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned as you lied down on the cold surface looking up at him watching the wheels turn in his head. You were just so… needy right now.

You needed him to put his mouth on you now. You love him. You seriously did, and no this wasn’t just brain fog from your heat [also how could you miss it?] this was more. You’ve always liked him and coming into adulthood just made you realize how in love you were. You’re tired of hiding it and acting like you don’t. You want him to see that you mean every word.

Your legs parted hanging off the end of the table as your hand went straight for your covered core. He watched you with his lip pulled between his teeth still debating if he wanted to do this. His mouthed opened lazily in awe as you snuck your hand into your underwear not bothering to move your skirt out of the way.

He ran his hand over his face clearly frustrated when you brought another hand toward your breasts. You made the mistake of going braless today due to how uncomfortable you’ve felt all day. It just made your nipple buds ultra sensitive and hard. Your finger toyed with the nipple as your other hand began to palm your clit.

You couldn’t even find it in you to feel embarrassed with the way he wasn’t reciprocating as much as you’d want him to. Your head fall back with a whine pinching at your nipple while bucking your hips. You couldn’t help but feel the dams in your eyes break, a couple tears sleeping, “Y-you really don’t love me.”

It hurt. It hurt because you should be embarrassed by how you’re acting. You’re getting off on him watching you and he doesn’t even love you! But you love him so so so so much you can’t stop.

And Jungkook finally seems to snap out of this daze. His eyes pulled away from the wet patch on your underwear as your hand moved under it working yourself into a frenzy and the way you teased your nipples to look at your face. His cock seemed to have taken control for a moment, too in love with the show you were putting on for him he hadn’t noticed you were upset until you were crying.

“No! No baby please,” he licked his lips glancing down at your pretty face, heart breaking when he catches the tears in your eyes, “I love you. Of course I love you Bun!”

“You don’t,” you cried. Fuck, he was going to do it. He was going to show you. He cupped your face in his hands forcing you to look up at him and crashed his lips against yours. His brows knitted together in pleasure, an almost angry expression on his face as he let out a groan.

Your mouths clashed messily in a heated kiss, Jungkook’s tongue licking along yours moaning at the taste. You wrapped the hand that had been on your boob around his neck keeping him locked in close to you. The hand in your panties never once stopping rubbing at your clit when he pressed himself against you. His covered member pushed against your hand hissing at the friction feeling a jolt of pleasure course through his body.

You whined in pain when it wasn’t enough and it killed Jungkook. He didn’t want to see his baby bunny like this at all and it was all because of him! Without wasting another second he moved his hands off your face. Jungkook pulled on your shirt, ripping it open to expose your bare chest and pointed nipples. He needed to find your release now before you were in any more pain. God he’s so stupid to forget about your heat.

But if he remembered would he have been here helping you or would he have already made arrangements with Jaeho for you? His eyes rolled in annoyance, No thinking about what could have happened. His baby girl needed him. You asked for him and he wasn’t going to provide.

You back arched when Jungkook suddenly licked a flat stripe over your nipple, moaning loudly when he tugged the bud with his teeth. Jungkook pulled it into his mouth sucking eagerly like a man dehydrated. His hands gripped at your waist making you rut against his covered member as he sucked and nipped at your breast, “My poor baby,” he cooed.

It was frustrating. All you wanted was to be fucked and choked like a cheap whore by this man right here. You’ve pushed your feelings for him so far back that when they finally came to the surface it was in one heavy flood. They all poured out heavily before you making it hard for you to lock them back up, especially right now. You didn’t mind being babied by him right now, he was trying to console you after crying about he didn’t love you and it was working.

Jungkook pulled away with a pop, his own drool dribbling out the corners of his mouth as the heat radiating off your body became too much for him. He yanked his shirt off wrestling with his belt as he kicked them off swiftly. He looked down at your body, breasts on display, hand in your panties, finger working in and out of you. Fuck he can see the way your butt glistened with your slick.

“I’m such a bad…” he couldn’t think of what to call himself. He wasn’t your boyfriend. He wasn’t your owner. Clearly he wasn’t just your friend. You were his bunny, but what was he?

“Daddy!” You whined out bucking into your hand impatiently and he swears he can die a happy man right there and then. He dragged you toward the edge of the table by your legs, “I’m such a bad daddy. I can’t believe I’ve left my poor baby like this.”

His voice was so gentle but taunting.

“Move your hand baby, let daddy apologize for forgetting your heat,” he licked his lips. You’d never seen him like this, eyes clouded with lust all geared toward you. You did as told moving your hand whining at the lost of contact making him click his tongue, “So nerdy.”

Without wasting another second he bent down and kissed your entrance over the soaked lace and dragged it off your hips in one go. You were so fucking wet, he’s never seen a pussy this covered in slick before they even started. Were you always like this? He ran a finger through your holds gathering your wetness on his fingertips before being of them back out. You groaned kicking your legs a little when he did, “Koo!”

“Shh, don’t be spoiled,” he looked at his fingers which shined, “Let me have a taste first.” His lips parted allowing his fingers to slip inside his mouth and pet his tongue. His eyes rolled back loving the sweetness, even your insides smelled good.

"You taste so fucking sweet bunny," he moaned. Before you could even whine again he was dragging the chair back plopping down on it. He took your legs and swung them onto his shoulders before pressing his face forward burying in your cunt. Another moan left your mouth as he pressed his lips on your clit. He brushed his thumb gently over the hardened sweet spot as you whimpered. He did it again and again, before going back to sucking your clit and flicking it with his tongue. He was being messy, so fucking messy and he could admit he’s never made out with anyone’s pussy quite like this before.

Jungkook slid in a finger carefully listening for your response. He tried to guide you to climax but he couldn’t. If he did he’d have to take his mouth off your pussy and there was no way he was going to do that. Instead he let his tongue do the talking, nose bumping against your clit repeatedly as he licked up whatever slosh his finger pushed out of you, sliding a second in to join the first.

“Want you to fuck me!” You hissed pulling on his hair harshly fucking yourself on his face. He’d never had you so aggressive and needy but damn he loved it. You were being greedy with him, a huge contrast with how distance you’ve been with him lately. You’re making him feel needed again.

“My baby wants to fuck?” He asked pulling away ignoring the line of arousal connecting his chin to your drenched pussy. Fuck, he’s never letting anyone else get near you on your heat ever again. You nodded cutely making grabby hands at him and his chest vibrated in another low growl. He’s kept his voice so gentle for you, just above a whisper, so sensual that it was driving you insane. And in the same tone he was speaking again, “Okay, I’ll give my spoiled bunny whatever she needs.”

Jungkook grabbed your thighs and wrapped them around his waist forcing you up from the table as he tugged at his briefs with his free hand, angry cock pointing up and the tip smacking your butt.

Anticipation curled heavy in his gut just thinking about how he’d about to have you and with a hand sliding down your back he was lifting you up in the air only held up by his embrace.

You could take it anymore, the need to have him inside you outdoing your need to be obedient and let him have his way with you.

Jungkook hisses in pleasure when he feels your hand curl around his cock pumping him twice covering him in your slick. The thought of protection completely slipping from his mind when you lined him up with your entrance. Your eye lids flutter shut, the feeling of finally having something thick between your walls washing over you as you sank onto him. Jungkook’s head fell forward, lip tugged between his teeth, an almost pained expression as he tried to concentrate on his little bunny taking his fat cock in one go. Your hip is gripped tightly by Jungkook’s hand as he swings one of your knees over his arm and doing the same to the other side giving you no choice but to take whatever he’s going to give you.

Jungkook slides almost completely out before slamming back in. "O-Oh fuuuck" he grunts when he lifts your butt with his hands before dropping you back down. You moans loudly not caring if the whole block heard you.

Just then your gums begin to ache. The need to chew on something becoming overwhelming but you couldn’t do anything Jungkook fucking you onto his cock with no remorse. Thinking quickly you bit down on his shoulder, teeth nibbling softly relieving some of the itch. Jungkook grunts and slams hard and fast inside your tight walls, “Fucking Hell! My poor baby! You feel so fucking good bunny.”

You couldn’t hold yourself back. Being on your heat and worked up since earlier in the day, you couldn’t stop the pleasure from washing over you. You were cumming, mouth drawn open in a whine as stray tear slipped from your eyes, “No!”

Jungkook freezes, he tries to catch his breath biting back his release with a groan as you clenched down around him. He could feel your slick dribble down his cock and balls and suddenly he couldn’t hold you like this anymore. He quickly made his way to the first piece of furniture and crashing down on the couch.

“I’m sorry,” you hiccuped feeling him twitch inside you but he didn’t move. He wanted to make sure you were okay first, “It’s okay baby, this is about you right now.”

“Nuh uh,” you shook your head, hand flat on his chest as you sat on his cock, walls still convulsing, “Gotta make you feel good too.”

He wanted to argue and say it was okay but he couldn’t. You were already grinding on his cock and he was so fucking close. He gritted his teeth releasing a hiss, “Oh fuck baby, such a good fucking girl.”

“Want you to breed me,” you planted your feet against the cushion is best as you could, bouncing on his thick cock chasing his release now feeling another threatening to overwhelm you.

“Shit! Shit!” He covered his face with his forearm unable to concentrate on anything but your words and your tight cunt milking his cock, “Shit baby, fuck you want my babies? Want my kits?”

At that you bounced more eagerly, boobs bouncing in his face and his his lips lifted rutting into your every thrust. “I love you bunny!” He grunted staring down at your messy pussy shaking his head in disbelief. This was surreal, “So fucking much! F-fuck I’m cumming!”

And you planted yourself down, taking him in to the hilt, moving forward and back but never up. His hips spasmed with each spurt of cum released inside your slick walls. His tip kissed your cervix deliciously that he was breaking out into a cold sweat. His body vibrated in pleasure as you milked him for everything he was worth.

He licked at his dry lips, panting heavily as you lifted yourself off him. He brought you into his arms hugging you, feeling you scent him but he didn’t stop you.

“Bunny,” he called, voice hoarse due to his moaning and groaning, “Y/n baby look at me.”

You lifted your head, lust still fueling your mind looking at him. He could see it now this was going to be a long night of fucking. Still, he had to be clear.

“I love you so fucking much,” he confessed, “I’m in love with you. I want to be with you forever. I don’t want anyone else but you from now on. Do you hear me?”

You didn’t say anything taking it all in, but he made you look at him by turning you to look at him again instead of his flaccid cock sure you could get him hard again.

His eyes bored into yours, “Will you go out with me? I want to be the only one to take care of you—“

“But I can take care of myself!” You cut in shaking your head. You loved him, but he needed to know you didn’t need him to do everything for you.

He nodded, “I know bunny, I’m trying to say I want to be the only to take care of your heat from now. I want us to be a couple, just you and I.”

::.

request 1

a/n

second hybrid fic ever finally done

y’all I can’t believe I wrote this in a day

so beware it might be complete shit lol

and if it is sorry

if it flops I’m deleting

not sorry