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there-must-be-a-lock · 3 years

Text

Green (Bucky x Reader)

Word Count: ~3k

***Warnings*** : Graphic and explicit consensual non-consent. It’s all pre-negotiated roleplay, but it includes fighting, struggling, spitting, scratching, the whole nine yards.

A/N: The companion fic to Red. You do not need to read that first; this stands on its own. However, without that as an introduction, there’s no obvious indication until about two-thirds into the fic that what’s happening is consensual.

More on this in another note at the end, but thanks to @thoughtslikeaminefield @fangirlxwritesx67 @katwillrise @mskathywriteswords @cracksinthewalls @littlegreenplasticsoldier @stunudo and the rest of the Slack squad for helping me sort out my feelings about “dark” fic, and for being a safe space to talk through stuff like this. This was really fucking difficult for me to write, but I’m glad I did.

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

- From “Wild Geese,” by Mary Oliver

It’s just like any other Friday night, until it’s not.

One moment I’m turning on the light in the entryway, hanging up my coat — next there’s a prickle down my spine, some primal reptile-brain instinct —

Run! Now!

— but there’s no time to recognize it for what it is. My body isn’t in the habit of being threatened; my body is tired and lazy, moving on autopilot through the comforting routine of Friday night. In the heartbeat between instinct and action, he pounces.

The hand over my mouth is metal: unyielding, unliving, chilling me down to my core, and if it wasn’t for the heat of the rest of his body all down my back, I wouldn’t assume he was human. His right arm is around my ribs, locking me in place, and it feels feverish in contrast but it’s trapping me as securely as if it was iron.

I can’t reconcile the cool metal against the human warmth, or the awful metallic tang mingled with the barely-there whiff of sweat. My mind is moving all jerky and slow. I can’t make sense of this.

Doesn’t matter, though, because I’m trapped anyway, like a wild animal in a snare. Trying to make sense of it won’t change the fact that vicious iron jaws snapped shut around me.

It was just like any other Friday night.

Panic clutches around my lungs all at once, adrenaline flooding in, and everything in me screams, fight back.

I thrash and squirm in his grasp, but he has my arms pinned down at my sides, and I’m small and helpless against the solid wall of muscle that is his chest. My raw strangled gasps come out as tiny hitched sobs, muffled by metal, barely audible in the still half-dark entryway of my apartment. He leans back, hefting me up so that my feet don’t quite touch the floor any more, like I weigh nothing, and takes a few steps away from the door.

“Don’t make a sound,” he snaps, before spinning me around, slamming me back against the wall and pinning me there with his metal hand at my throat.

Panic makes everything sharper. It’s too sharp, sharp like the shadows cast by the angles of his jaw and cheekbones, sharp like the way he’s watching me with pale hard eyes.

“Why — why are you here?”

He tilts his head, considering me.

“I was sent,” he says simply, in a low rasp of a voice.

“What do you want?”

Something cracks open in his eyes, like a tectonic shift bringing magma to the surface, and then the strangest expression spreads slowly over his features, fierce hunger and wild terror all at once. Fear splinters like lightning down my spine.

“Take off your clothes,” he says quietly. “Let me see you.”

I lash out with both hands, ready to claw at his eyes, but with his arm outstretched, he’s just out of my reach; when I scratch and slap at the metal wrist, he doesn’t even seem to notice, and when I strain against his grip, I only succeed in choking myself. Black spots dance across my vision, and I draw ragged wheezing breaths, clutching uselessly at the sleeve of his black leather jacket, still twitching and twisting feebly.

At least he can’t undress me with one hand, I think, for one absurd second.

Then his free hand twitches down to his side, and he’s raising a knife. Dark oxidized metal gleams in his fingers. I freeze, staring at the wickedly honed edge of it as he brings it closer, holding it up at eye level before lowering it slowly.

The tip hooks under the first button of my blouse, and when he flicks the blade upward, the fabric separates like it’s nothing. I barely dare to breathe as he cuts my shirt open, one button at a time, with surgical precision. The knife is so close to my skin that one wrong move could slice into me.

When the ruined remains of my blouse gape open, he lowers the blade, ready to cut through the waistband of my skirt, and my frayed nerves snap.

“Don’t,” I blurt out. “I’ll do it. I’ll cooperate.”

I unzip it, trying to step out of it without moving my head, still trapped by the constant silent threat of his fingers around my throat.

He sheathes the knife so that he can push my shirt roughly down my arms. My bra straps follow; he tugs them down my shoulders and reaches around to pop the clasp open, and when it falls, he pauses, licking his lips as he gazes up and down my body, taking in the revealed skin.

There’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes when they meet mine for a long, frozen moment. He draws a breath like he’s about to say something, and his grip loosens a fraction.

I’m not done fighting.

I spit in his face, and when he flinches, I wrench myself away, twisting out of his grasp, bolting down the hall toward the bedroom door.

Just as I wonder whether he’s reconsidered, whether he’ll let me go, he snarls, “You’ll regret that.”

I go down hard and fast when he tackles me, barely getting my arms out in time to break my fall, and the impact sends a flash of pain through one elbow but there’s no time to think about that — no time to feel it — not when I’m thrashing and kicking and squirming — but he’s too strong, too heavy — I almost writhe away but then he rolls me onto my back — pins me, sitting on my thighs — and my fists are swinging, flailing uselessly against his face and shoulders, but he doesn’t even seem to notice — and I let out a desperate sob as I realize I’m helpless again.

I want to scream, but there isn’t enough breath in my lungs.

He shuffles up on his knees until he’s straddling my waist, looming over me, blocking out everything else, and he snatches my wrists as I beat my fists against his stomach and chest. His lip curls, baring his teeth in a feral approximation of a smile, and he gathers my wrists together so he can hold them in the bruising circle of his metal fingers.

Flesh fingertips dig cruelly into the hinge of my jaw, forcing it open, and he leans forward to spit into my open mouth — something twists and clenches deep in my gut as I sputter and choke, skin crawling with disgust.

“Not so nice, is it?” he sneers, sitting back on his heels.

Worn black denim stretches over muscular thighs as he shifts, drawing attention to the fact that he’s hard — the thick shape of his cock is obvious, straining against the fabric.

My eyes snap back to his face, but it’s too late. He chuckles, throaty and smug, and then he rubs himself through his jeans, squeezing roughly, making it impossible to ignore his arousal.

“Is that what you want?” he asks — taunts — and I shake my head frantically, throat too tight to speak. He smirks and drops his hand to my chest, tweaking one nipple hard enough to make me yelp. He shrugs off his jacket, letting it fall, and light catches the dark metal plates of his arm.

Hot stinging tears well up and roll down my temples, blurring my vision, but not before I see his fingers on the button of his jeans, popping it open.

“No,” I choke out. “No. Please, please, please —”

He has to move to shove his jeans down, has to let me go for a moment — a fresh wave of adrenaline surges up with sickening speed, and I scramble back, twist, flop onto my stomach — it’s graceless and uncoordinated but I’m not giving in, not yet. I’m army-crawling out from under the cage of his body and I’m almost free — almost — but before I can get up on my hands and knees he’s yanking my panties down.

Panic rises to a crescendo.

I shriek — thin and pathetic even to my own ears — too frantic to even see straight, and then my breath is punched from my lungs as his hand slams down between my shoulderblades and crushes me to the cold hard floor. I curl an arm around my head protectively, burying my face in the crook of my elbow, and I whimper into the dark space it makes, trying to hide from what’s about to happen.

My body is vibrating with tension like a rubber band about to snap, every muscle clenched so tight it hurts, and when I feel the blistering-hot pressure of his cock between my thighs I almost snap.

“Struggle all you want,” he growls. “Won’t make a difference.”

And it doesn’t make a difference. He shoves, and after a split-second of resistance he’s slamming into me with skull-rattling force. He grunts as he grinds in, working himself into me as deep as he can be.

The weight lifts from my upper back, and I suck in a desperate breath, only to sob it out again as he braces himself on his left hand and tangles the right in my hair. It stings, but somewhere along the line I’ve lost the ability to feel pain as pain; it’s only another sensation, and it’s eclipsed completely by the flint-to-tinder flare as he starts to move.

I bite my lip so hard I taste blood, but I can’t hold back a moan.

It’s too much, too fucking much, he’s too big, wrenching me apart, taking up every bit of space inside me and forcing me to accept the intrusion. There’s no rational thought left beyond I can’t take this.

There’s nothing rational about it, though.

Something catches and sparks — ignites — and wildfire licks up my spine before bursting out through every inch of me. It’s going to burn me alive, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

There’s nothing wrong with it, I try to tell myself, but shame slithers through my belly anyway.

I’ve never been this wet in my entire fucking life.

I’m breathing fast and panicked, I’m naked and squirming on the gritty floor, and it’s humiliating, and it hurts… but friction is friction, and my traitor of a body is slick and eager even though my rational brain is screaming for it to stop.

“Stop,” I choke out. “Stop, don’t —”

“Don’t what? Don’t make you come? Don’t make you admit how much you like this? Not fightin’ back any more, are you?”

I sob and shudder, squeezing helplessly around him. “Please.”

“Shit, can feel you gettin’ close — gotta see this,” he says, panting harshly, and then he’s pulling out, grabbing at my shoulder to flip me onto my back.

He hooks an arm up under my knee to open me up and drives in deep again, and I spasm around him, spine arching so forcefully my head slams back against the floor. He’s wild-eyed and wrecked, but he stops for the space of a jagged-edged inhale, pausing, slack-jawed with shock when I look dazedly up at him.

“Green,” I breathe, and slap him across the jaw with a crack.

He moans and surges forward all at once, hips snapping down, and the pleasure-pain coils tighter inside me, ratcheting up to new impossible heights.

I’m not going to stop fighting — not now, not ever, no matter how good it feels. I hit and scratch and claw, and when my nails catch on his cheek he gasps, rhythm faltering for the first time.

He’s scorching-hot, steely-hard, every thrust a solid filthy smack against my skin, a vicious stretch pushing me to my limit — and it hurts, it hurts, but the adrenaline makes the pain feel faint and distant, and the pleasure is raw and immediate and building (faster by the second) into something inescapable.

I can feel it starting to overwhelm me. My muscles are seizing up, but I’m fighting back on pure animal instinct, still. I grab him by the throat with one hand, pull his hair with the other, and his face is the last thing I see before my world dissolves: cheek bleeding from a rough scratch, features contorted, mouth open in a wide red O that’s somehow, unmistakably, a smile.

Bucky is breathing just as hard as I am, when I swim to the surface again.

We’re both drawing deep wet gulps of air, gasping on each exhale. I twine my arms around his neck limply, resting one palm between his shoulders so I can measure the rise and fall of his lungs.

I can’t bring myself to open my eyes, but I feel everything: every little tremor and twitch that goes through him, the slick warm tickle of aftershocks as he starts to go soft inside me. His face is buried against the side of my neck, and his right hand cups my cheek, so very gentle, thumb stroking my temple and wiping away tears. He kisses me softly where my pulse hammers under the skin.

My heart is racing, beating against my ribs like a wild bird caught in a cage, but my head seems very far away from the mess of my body.

I whimper when he pulls back, but he doesn’t go far, not yet — I can hear the barely-there rasp of fabric as he shifts.

“Can’t believe you’re still wearing pants,” I mumble, slurring like I’m drunk.

“Wearing is a generous word,” he says flatly.

It’s a weak impersonation of his usual deadpan snark, but I let out a cracked giggle, and for a hysterical second I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop giggling.

Bucky whispers, “Gonna get you up now, okay?”

He slides his hand under my head, cradling the back of my skull, and kisses my sweaty forehead before gathering me in his arms. He sits up carefully, pulling me against his chest and letting me burrow into the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

Then there’s a disorienting swoop of motion that means he’s standing up. I feel fragile and strange as he walks, like something inside me will break if it’s jostled, but I trust him to keep me safe. He nudges the barely-open bedroom door with his hip, easing us through it, and behind my closed lids the quality of the darkness changes as he steps toward the soft golden glow of my bedside lamp.

“Not going anywhere, just going to put you down for one second,” he warns me.

The comforter is already pulled back when he settles me on the bed, and he pulls it up around me, wrapping me up.

“Water,” he says quietly, holding the glass to my lips, and I sip carefully. “Juice? Something sweet?”

I shake my head. “Not yet.”

He steps back. I hear the soft thump of his shirt and jeans dropping to the floor, the click of his dog tags as he puts them back on, and then he’s sliding into bed next to me. I shift closer and trace the chain around his neck, touching the familiar imprint of letters in the metal.

My swollen lids are heavy when I open my eyes, and they sting when I finally look up at him, taking in his puffy parted lips and the red line of dried blood on his cheek where I scratched him. It’s already healing, it’ll be gone within a couple hours, but I brush my finger over it anyway, making an apologetic face.

“It’s okay,” he says softly. He clears his throat and swallows hard. “I’m the one who — I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head. “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry about. It was…”

I don’t know how to finish that sentence; I shrug, helpless, dizzy with the enormity of getting exactly what I wanted — of getting what I never thought I’d be able to ask for, let alone have.

His lashes are wet, his eyes shining in the low light, and that’s when it really starts to sink in. I shiver, and then I can’t stop shivering, and I curl forward, burying my face in his chest.

It’s hard to believe that the world is still turning and even harder to believe that he’s still here.

“God, sweetheart, you were incredible,” he whispers, voice breaking, wrapping me up in his arms and kissing the top of my head.

Shuddery, convulsive sobs wrack my body, one after another, and I don’t try to hold them back even though they’re so powerful I’m afraid they’ll crack my ribs on the way out. The tears are nothing to be ashamed of. It’s more like they’re physical evidence of shame leaving my body, purging it with each ugly sound wrenched from my throat.

I never would’ve said it out loud if we hadn’t stumbled into his violent fantasies. There’s nothing wrong with you, I told him, and I sounded so sure, but I still had a hard time believing it about myself. My rational mind knew that it was natural… but it was like knowing that the person who grabbed me tonight was the same man holding me now — it was like knowing he would never hurt me, but feeling my body panic anyway.

Bucky holds me, crooning nonsense fragments against my hair, until it subsides.

I sit up enough to look at him, and I’m conscious of how blotchy and swollen my face must be, but I let him brush away my tears. I feel soft and raw inside where I’d been holding all that guilt. Everything is starting to ache.

“God, we’re a mess,” I say thickly. He lets out a huff of laughter.

“I love you,” he blurts out. His eyes go a little wide, like that wasn’t what he intended to say.

“I love you too,” I say, wobbly but warm, and I duck my head again, resting with my ear over his chest to hear his heartbeat.

His sigh is long and shaky.

“Yeah, we’re a mess,” he whispers. “Feels good though. Feels human.”

fin.

N.B: If you’ve spent any amount of time around my masterlist, you probably will have noticed that one of my favorite subjects is the shame people (especially women) frequently feel about sex in general and their fantasies in particular. I also really love writing enthusiastic consent, and so in a way this is very different from anything I’ve written before.

I have trouble with the way a lot of fanfiction seems to glorify coercive or under-negotiated dom/sub scenes, and most so-called “dark” fic is triggery for me in its oversimplification of things like rape fantasies; they’re normal and common and natural, but frequently the way they’re written has the same flat, male-gaze approach as a lot of exploitative porn, which I hate. Rape has never been a fantasy for me personally (although it has been an actual life experience) but my #1 fantasy is finding the sort of trust and partnership and support that would make this sort of roleplay emotionally safe. I also just felt compelled to tackle the challenge of writing about something that is often considered so shameful, and writing about it in a way that neither romanticizes or demonizes it.

So. Yeah. In case you need a reminder: don’t punish your body for what it wants.

(If you liked this, please reblog or leave a message?)

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes smut #mcu #mcu fic #tw rape #tw: rape #consensual non-consent

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arrancxr · 2 years

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Another Cien one, for variety! 4 with a double edged connotation? :3 reader taking good care of his double counts with lots of lube (or maybe tentacles?) but also having a dangerous tone to their voice, as a former hollow?

4. “You look just about good enough to eat.”

“Awww, baby, you’re so pretty.” You say things like that when you touch him, even though Cien can’t imagine anything less true.

He knows enough about human anatomy to realize that everything about him is wrong. The twin splits between his legs aren’t normal, but you still touch him like he’s some kind of treasure, not just utterly inhuman.

But before he can give some sarcastic retort, you’re dragging two fingers up the seam between his cunts, and his whole body becomes suddenly, abruptly aware of that gentle touch. It’s like his nerves light up. The potentials of his internal structure flicker through Cien’s line of thought, but it’s all cut off when you squeeze a cold bit of lube over his cunts.

And you smile. Those two fingers return. One nudges at the upper opening, pressing inside just enough to make Cien’s breath pick up. Having things inside still feels wrong. Too vulnerable. The instinct to flee picks up at the same time you slowly, carefully work one finger into each of his holes.

He doesn’t get wet. You’ve noted it’s unusual. All that means now is that, after making sure he’s open enough, you slip the nozzle of the lubricant bottle into each hole in turn, and squeeze. Cold gel fills him up and spills out the sides, and Cien can’t hold back the squeak that follows. It feels messy, vaguely degrading. Some strange, hovering thought in the back of his mind says that the gush of fluid should be warm. Should come from you.

Now that he’s slick, you can force your way into his upper cunt with only the slightest sting. Cien’s pain tolerance is impressive, but the shock of good that jolts through his pelvis is something he has no resistance for.

“Does that feel nice?” you ask.

You nudge a third finger in along with the first two. The gaping stretch in one hole contrasts the emptiness in the other, and the scrambled signal of it is all but torture. He bites down on his lip to strangle some tense, needy sound. You spread your digits just enough that his flesh is forced to give.

As his breath starts picking up, you get two fingers of your other hand into his lower hole. That’s— a lot. The stretch is brain-melting at the same time it feels like he can’t hold anymore. His clit, as you call it, throbs for attention, twitching pitifully when you don’t touch it. That heavy, hot sense of need is working its way into his head and crowding out all thoughts of why he shouldn’t let you reduce him to a quivering wreck on your bed.

“You look just about good enough to eat,” you purr, forcing two more fingers, one for each cunt, into him. Seven. There can’t be enough room for it all. Your words register a second later. Cien feels himself go limp.

The instinct to curl up and hide hits at the same time your fingers start to move. They drag torturously over his insides, too much all at once—

All he can do is clench down and bear the delicious stretch.

#Bleach #Cien #Cien Granz #Arrancar #Fic #Lemon

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joyfulhopelox · 3 years

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"I've never cried over a broken dryer before"- "and you better not start now"

gif not mine cr. belongs to owner

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: got nothing to say for myself really, just listened to a song, the idea hit me and i haven't written anything non science related in a decade so i gave it another go....that being said i realised i am awful at emotions lol. Side note i am from the UK so if some things seem off i apologise

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox

Pairing: Jungkook x reader (College!AU/ University!AU)

Warnings: ? mentions of skin? terrible fluff and flirting attempts

Word count: idk, it would not stop ~4k

A bop. A bop and some alcohol. That is all you needed after a long tiring week of studying for finals and cramming for your practical assessments. This week had been the last week of exam season and you were more than grateful that it had ended. You did not particularly care about how you’ve done on the assessments. That was not your present self’s problem, that was something for future you to worry about. Presently you just wanted to take a nap and head out with your girlfriends on a night out to just dance and drink all the stress away.

You weren’t a drinker, not by a long shot. You barely touched alcohol once or twice a month, and that happened mainly when you would have a get together with your friends. It was hard not to get sucked in when everything around you was so loud and chaotic it made you want to be part of the chaos not just an observer. You’ve done the whole ‘being sober whilst your friends got drunk’ and you swore to yourself it would never happen again. Funny how nights out looked disgusting and cliche when you were actually awake to witness them. From the group who ended up dancing on the tables, to the group who dispersed to hunt for one night stands, to the group who decided to pass out at the bar or in the toilets and then you, the sober one left to pick everyone up and send them back home safely and make sure than no one got into a fight. You sometimes wondered how the hell you got home alright when you ended up actually drinking on these nights out as none of your friends seemed willing to stay sober and watch over you. For once, you were not going to question your luck and just roll with it.

Before you settled for a nap though you knew you had to go downstairs to do your washing. Being a student during exam season meant you were surviving on microwavable food, lots of caffeine, sugar in all sorts of forms and that your tiny dorm room looked as if a hurricane has passed through it with dirty clothes all over the place and bedding that has been left unwashed for at least 2 weeks. You felt disgusting and unfortunately the neat freak in you kicked in, unsuppressed anymore by your pre-exam anxiety. With a sigh you started undoing your bedsheets and stashing them in a basket along with other bits and pieces of clothes. Making sure that you got your laundry detergent and your key card you started lugging the basket out of your room praying to the Gods that the lift was not broken.

Living on the 8th floor had its perks, but not when you were in a sleep deprived hurry. All you could do is check the numbers going down to the lower ground hoping that the lift would not stop at any other floor. But of course your luck would run out, on 3rd floor the lift slowed down and stopped, making you release an angry huff. ‘Of course it would’ you muttered to yourself as the doors opened only to reveal a tall men impatiently tapping his foot. Huffing he too got into the elevator making you aware of his stature. He may have not been as tall as some of the men you’ve seen but he was clearly working out as his muscles made him look way broader than his stature permitted. A gym rat, you rolled your eyes and tried to move the laundry bag and yourself into the corner, the space feeling too cramped for your liking. The dragging sound of the bag made the person turn around and give you a curious glance which you dismissed quickly. You weren’t interested in conversing with strangers on a normal basis let alone a gym rat. Nothing against them, you just had nothing in common and your tired brain did not want to make up a polite small talk.

‘Lower ground?’ the person asked you, surprisingly the voice was soft and clear, something you had not expected of him. It made you glance at him, ‘yeah’ you nodded after composing yourself. The person nodded making their long bangs fall into their eyes which prompted the next two surprises for you; in an attempt to settle his bangs out of his face he not only revealed a muscular defined arm which you’d have to admit was kind of attractive- you’d have to be blind not to notice, but also an array of random tattoos all over his arm and hand. The other surprise hit you a moment later after you realised you’ve been staring at him for a second too long and you sniffed and turned your face away. The smell of alcohol was coming off of him strongly as if he’s been drinking for a few days straight and his pores exuded it. It took you all you had to not cough. Frat boy, gym rat- this guy was ticking all the ‘no no’ boxes and so regardless of how good looking he was he did not deserve second thoughts.

Your prayers being answered, you reached lower ground quicker than expected and you prepared yourself to rush out of the lift. However, the clothes basket was heavier than you’d thought so instead of a swift exit like you’ve planned, you closely resembled Santa dragging his toy sack.

‘Would you like some help with that?’ the guy who’d turned around and observed you amusedly as you struggled extended a hand in your direction. You huffed and dropped the basket on the floor and couldn’t help but notice the basket he held in one hand and how the effort made his muscles and veiny arms that much more noticeable. Hot.

‘’S all good thanks’ however, you were not going to accept his help. You just wanted to get these damn clothes in the wash so you could go and nap away the remainder of your post exam stress. The guy held your gaze for a second too long before he raised an eyebrow and looked unconvincingly at your basket and your face, which was red by now you’d presume. Then shrugging he carried on walking towards the laundry room getting further and further out of your view, and you could have sworn there was an extra spring in his step. That fucker.

After monumental efforts you managed to drag everything to the laundry room only to notice that it had been left propped open by an empty bottle. Entering with difficulty you made your way to the closest washer available and dropped the laundry basket on the floor with a relieved sigh. Bending down to start putting your clothes in, you could definitely hear a snicker behind you. Whas that….? Of course it was, you were the only two souls in there. Everyone else was probably either enjoying some much needed sleep or partying the evening away already. Deciding to ignore him you continued to pile your clothes into the machine and soon enough you got distracted so much so that you did not realise you had started humming.

‘Nice voice you got there, but do both of us a favour, leave it for when you’re on your own will you?’ another snicker from behind. Flustered you whipped around, ‘what?’ his gaze on you held a smouldering effect making you feel as if you were pinned down by just its sheer force. His dark eyes, whilst amused, were also narrowed on your form as if commanding you to listen to what he was saying. Your breath hitched and as much as you’d tried to shrug off the feeling and the temptation to not listen to him and turn around, you found yourself unable to. Trying to hold his gaze your eyes wavered for a split second when the tip of his tongue peeked out from between his lips to wet the lower one. A gesture so fleeting, done as if by habit, but paired with the intense gaze it had your throat constrict and your instincts had been to follow his moves, your own tongue coming out to lick your own suddenly dry lips.

Had you intended to do this to toy with him? No. Has it worked? Judging by the way his eyes travelled slowly and purposefully down your face towards your lips, you could swear it has. Refusing to give him more vulnerability than that you turned around with tremendous efforts and continued pilling clothes into the washer completely missing the way he stared at your ass that was now on display. Biting his lip he gave you another once over before returning to his own washing.

You couldn’t help to glance his way every time you would turn around to pick up more clothes out of the basket. He was sporting a concentrated face, his lower lip caught between his teeth, his broad shoulders and the way his arm muscles were defined by the effort were making you breathless. However, what made your head spin and your heart to skip too many beats for it to be healthy was what happened next. You blame your bad luck - or good luck- for glancing at him only to catch him grab his shirt and give it a tentative sniff and a shrug. So he knew he reeked, but your snicker turned into a hiccup as soon as he had grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head.

Normally a situation like this wouldn’t phase you, you have seen plenty of men naked. But this one, this one was a special one. His bunny like features, defined nose bridge, jawline and floppy but rugged hair were a complete contrast to his defined jawline and...oh lord….were those six or eight abs??

‘What in the name of abs are you doing?’ sputtering you turned to fully face him. What a mistake. He did the same so now you had a full frontal view, first row, VIP seat to his naked upper body. That was definitely a six abs package. Shrugging, which by lord made everything tense up in ways you did not need to see, he threw the longsleeve into the wash and slammed it shut. All that did not take more than 5 seconds but to you, it seemed like a slowed down eternity in which your eyes got a good view of a muscular anatomy.

‘What, it’s dirty and i’m doing my washing?’ he stated as if it was plain as day and absolutely normal to get naked in the laundry room.’In the name of abs? Should i be calling you a peeping Tom?’ A slow forming smirk that made him look dangerously mischievous made its way onto his face.

‘Pffft, what? I said in the name of gods, what are you on about? Why would I be looking at you, whilst you think it’s perfectly fine to strip in a public place??’ he laughed at your clear distress but chose to not to mention your choice of words. ‘Hardly public is it? There’s just you and i in here’ he rebutted whilst turning around to scan his laundry card onto the machine and pressed start. You scoffed indignantly, ‘what am i chopped liver? I’m not goddamn blind’ you mumbled, not for his ears but instead chose to say out loud, ‘what about the poor souls who will see you in the lift back up? Is that not a public place?’

Unbeknownst to you he had clearly heard your previous statement, his smirk once again widening, so you had actually been looking. Good. Clearing his throat he put on as much of a serious face as he could ‘I think it’s unfair to call them poor, this is not cheap accommodation, if they live here it is clear that they are anything but poor’ he knew what you’d meant by poor, but just the annoyed tick in your eyebrow that appeared at his statement was worth it. Choosing to stay silent instead of taking the bait, you returned to your laundry. Only to curse out loud- you had finished it and upon scouring your belongings haphazardly you realised your card was missing. Vaguely remembering you had only taken your room card you groaned, this was not how you’d intended to spend your afternoon before the party.

Without a second’s notice, a tattooed hand with a card appeared before your eyes and the washing machine burst to life. Indignantly you whipped your head around to look at the owner of said hand, ‘what are you doing?’ only to come face to face with the end of a defined collarbone and jawline. And by all that is saintfully just, the line of his throat was just as attractive as the whole of the man. Being this close to him rendered you absolutely useless, jumbled thoughts ranging from ‘i need to pay him back’ to ‘what is he even doing’ to settle in the end to a single thought which you also voiced out loud without even thinking. ‘Your moles are pretty’. You had managed to get past the expanse of his neck to the outline of his lower lip when you noticed his mole, and to your defense- it was cute, but with the whole package, cute is the last word you had in mind. More like- it added a completeness that you would not think he needed but there it was.

He swallowed thickly, enjoying for a second too long the glazed look you had on your face as you said that. ‘And you have nice eyes’ he retaliates even though this is the first time he’s had a closeup look at them. Bright and sparkly, unknown to the both of you, a mirror of each other’s. Sparkly with a promise of something. Something which would have to wait for….if you had your way, forever, if he had his way- a second. You finally willed your legs to step aside and away from the unclothed man.

‘Uh-thanks’ you never stutter, but something about the heavy and thick air around makes it hard to take controlled breaths. ‘For the washing i mean’ you correct yourself. You will never admit to him out loud that him complimenting your eyes made your heart stumble and your brain freeze. You turned around to escape the situation, completely missing the amused expression on the man’s face. ‘You are welcome’ he extends his hand out walking to your side not missing the way you try to put some distance in between the two of you.

‘I’m Jungkook’ he smiles, a complete 180 from his appearance, his smile was warm and genuine, the type of smile that is reflected not only in his eyes but his whole face. His nose scrunches up too cutely, you think to yourself. He somehow resembles a bunny? Mustering up all the courage and bravery your heart still had, you grasp his hand. Hm, soft, odd for a gym head. You knew what he was asking for, but you would not give it to him. As cute as he is, you still tried to tell yourself you were unimpressed. ‘And i’m a poor soul who lives in this block of flats’ you mutter ‘i will pay you back for the washing’.

As soon as you reached your tiny cramped room and settled down for that nap you’ve been craving, you could not help but replay the last words he said to you, sounding way too smug for his own good. ‘Is that you telling me to put a shirt on for your sake?’

#bts #jungkook #bts jungkook #btsxreader #bts scenario #bts x reader scenario #jungkook x reader #was not intending to post this but my cat made me #bts fluff #bts x you #jungkook x you #somewhat crack #lox writings #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #fic #fluff

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clingylilhoneybee · 3 years

Text

You find me in my room, asleep peacefully, wearing just a tee shirt and panties as I always do to bed. My chest slowly rising and falling, blissfully unaware of your entrance. But what really catches your eye are the bed restraints in each corner, a stark contrast to the pastel softness of the blankets, and the array of toys next to me in the half opened bedside table, practically begging for you to use them against me. I’m jolted awake by the feeling of your hand on my ankle, already tying me to the first corner of the bed before I’ve even processed what’s happening. But once I do, I immediately start to fight. Kicking, hitting, whatever I can think to try and stop you, but I’ve never been terribly strong. You all but roll your eyes at my attempts as you catch my other leg and force it into the other restraint. I pause for a moment, realizing how vulnerable you’ve just left me, legs spread wide open, before I return to hitting and pulling at my restraints. You laugh with a terribly sadistic smile as you climb onto me, reaching to tie up an arm. I manage to land one good hit in, my fist connecting with your face, and your entire demeanor switches. You immediately grab my wrist, holding with enough force to bruise. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop this pathetic attempt at fighting back. I was being nice you little slut but I will not hesitate to get a little mean to get what I want”. I wince from the harshness of the words and the pain in my wrist. It finally sinks in that you have the upper hand in every way. You’re stronger and bigger, and now I’m not even in full control of my lower half. I silently comply as a tear runs down my face. “Please don’t hurt me” I whisper. You smile down and lighten your grip on my wrist as you notice my defeat “we’ll see about that. You’re awfully cute when you cry”.

You finish tying me to the bed and get up, grabbing the duct tape from the night stand, placing a piece on my mouth. My eyes widen in fear, knowing I can’t reason with you even if I tried. I’m now completely at your mercy. You take a moment to look over my toy collection, contemplating what you’d do with the person at your disposal. Instead of pulling one out, you turn back to me. Running your hand up my leg, nearing the flimsy piece of material I chose as underwear for the night. I panic, pulling away as best I can in the restraints, trying to avoid your touch. Your hand brushes against my clit and rests there as you look up at me with some kind of faux pity. “My dear, my cock is going in one of your holes tonight, and this one certainly seems as good as any to ruin.” I start to cry and use my bound hand to gesture to my covered mouth. “Oh? You’d rather me use your mouth? Well I’m nothing if not generous so of course I’ll fuck your little throat”. You gently pull off the duct tape and I take a sigh of relief before I feel your fingers shoved in my mouth. I start gagging, eyes tearing up as I fight my bodies instinct to throw up. “Come on now, if you can’t handle a few fingers without making a mess of yourself you certainly won’t be able to handle what I’m about to do” you coax your fingers a bit further as I hear your other hand undoing your pants. You slight your fingers out and I gasp for air. I nearly have my breathing back to normal before you straddle me, forcing your cock to the bad of my throat. I let myself cry freely now as you violently fuck my mouth, using me as nothing more than a toy for your pleasure. This continues for a bit until you seemingly get bored and climb off me. I close my eyes in relief, thinking this is finally over. My peace is short lived as I feel a sharp pain against my right tit. I cry out and look over to see you, crop in one hand, my largest toy in the other, smiling sadistically. “You couldn’t have all these toys out and honestly expected me not to use a single one on such a pretty little captive”. I start to panic, I’m out of options so I beg “please, I’ll give you anything you want just please please leave me alone”. You laugh and respond simply “this is exactly what I want. Now shut up before I use one of these gags…”. You look back to my collection “Wow you really are a little whore. Practically begging for someone to use you like I am with all these things”. I open my mouth to argue, then shut it knowing what would happen if I did.

You walk to the end of the bed, standing between my legs, and hit my cunt lightly with the crop. I wince, trying to look away as I know what’s coming. You pull my panties to the side and put a finger into my hole, almost clinically inspecting it. You pull back and laugh again. “God you really are pathetic. Do you see how fucking wet you are?” You move the finger into my face and even I can’t deny how needy this has all made my cunt. “Well that’ll make this easier” you note as you begin to push the dildo inside me. I start my attempt to pull away again and plead “please no. Not this one. It’s way too big for me. I know I’ve tried and it doesn’t fit”. You pause and look deep into my eyes, trying to figure out if I’m being honest, and I am. You shrug “well we’re going to make it fit today”. The calm in your voice scares me even more. I try to think of any way out as I feel it getting deeper, stretching my hole and reaching its limit. You can feel it too, and you start to pull it out, gently fucking me with the dildo, filling me up as much as you can with each stroke. I nearly let out a moan before I catch myself, continuing to fight against my restraints. You notice my almost moan and decide to test my limit, pushing it just past where you had before. I cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. “Please stop. I told you it doesn’t fit. Please”. You contemplate for a second, and push a bit further, prompting the same response from me. “See you like this. I know it hurts but after today you strike me as someone who likes to be hurt”. You keep easing the dildo further into me, until I’m filled all the way to the base, tears streaming down my face. “See now that wasn’t so hard”. You start fucking me with it again. Sliding the full length in and out of me. You notice me fighting the part of me that enjoys what’s happening. “You’re going to like this whether you want to or not” you say confidently as you pull out my hitatchi. Pressing it against me I can’t hold in my moans any longer and I get fully lost in the pleasure, my moans nearly turning to screams as you fuck me harder with my dildo. Soon enough I can’t hold it in and I cum the hardest I ever have in my life, my whole body shaking against you as wave after wave of pleasure overtakes me. I start to come down from the orgasm and all of a sudden you stop. I look at you confused as you reach up to remove one of my arms from its restraints. You start to leave the room and turn to look at me from the door way. You smirk, looking down at my still shaking body “until next time….”

#told y’all I was in a mood #mine

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class1akids · 3 years

Note

Idk if this is unpopular but I think quirk singularity is a dumb plot device. What is the need for it in the story?

I feel the opposite - I think Quirk Singularity is absolutely necessary at this point to make the OFA-AFO plot at least somewhat interesting.

1. Let’s recap what is quirk singularity?

Quirk singularity means that (1) with each generation powers become more complex and stronger (2) this means quirk will be more difficult to control, since the human body doesn't evolve quickly enough to keep up (3) there will come a point when Quirks will become too overpowered and complicated, and no one will be able to control them anymore.

Basically, quirk singularity puts a limit on the power a single person can hold and poses an interesting and complex ultimate threat at the level of society that relies on ever-increasing powers to solve its problems. How can you solve the problem with more power if more power is the problem itself?

2. How the limits quirk singularity presented manifest in the story and why they are important?

Powers having a drawback is essential for good the story-telling. There is nothing more boring than characters who are so powerful that they can always do whatever they want, there is no real danger, real stakes and at most they are inconvenienced from using their power. It’s difficult to put such characters in suspenseful or dramatic scenarios where the audience really feel that they may lose or fail.

So in the BNHA universe, generally, all people have a single quirk. All these quirks are limited in some way or have some built-in drawbacks:

- Top-level quirk with versatility, but still with soft upper limits (there is always a plus ultra at a price), the holder’s personality flaws lead to self-sabotage (e.g. Bakugou, Endeavor)

- Top level quirk with versatility and no hard upper limit, but the holder can’t fully wield it unless they overcome underlying trauma linked to the power itself (e.g. Todoroki)

- Top power-level quirk with a single ultimate weakness (Hawks, Tokoyami, Aizawa) or the use of which starts a cooldown period (Kaminari) or the power is limited for stockpile resource (Eri, Momo)

- Mid-level powers that can do one thing really well (Kirishima, Iida, Mina) or more support nature powers that are versatile but do not have a lot of raw output attached to fragile users (Froppy, Jirou)

- low-level powers.

But the Top Good (OFA) and Top Evil (AFO) are not limited to a single power - they can acquire multiple powers.

AFO’s power limitation is how much quirks his body can absorb. As evidenced by the existence of the nomu - multiple powers usually come at the price of losing one’s humanity. But luckily for AFO, he has Evil Scientist as sidekick, who can find a way around this problem by evil sciencing (modifying a body to create hosts for AFOs upgrades).

OFA is a power that started out weak and has been built through generations through self-sacrifice to reach the point where it could compete with AFO, but not quite eliminate it (All Might era).

Without quirk singularity, this battle of evil and good would continue forever without stakes until AFO and OFA-users are chucking planets at each other, but now OFA has reached it’s full potential and the tipping point where it cannot be transferred anymore, creating a now-or-never situation to defeat AFO.

This puts the protagonist under some pressure and creates some stakes. If he can’t win, everyone is doomed. (Unfortunately we already know that Deku will not fail because it’s stated in Chapter 1, so it’s not exactly the biggest suspense, but better than nothing)

3. How could quirk singularity apply better to OFA ?

So we saw with AFO, how quirk singularity is a real barrier to his continuous power-ups. Failed nomu, the damage to Tomura’s body, the mental problems caused by the quirk upgrades are all interesting limits.

In contrast, OFA’s limits I think were not very well handled. Especially, because of who Deku is as a protagonist.

His goal is to become like All Might - the hero who was the ultimate Deus ex Machina of the universe, so powerful that he inadvertedly created a terrrible system reliant on that incredible power of a single person. Deku is trying to follow in his footsteps.

So where lies Deku’s conflict or challenge or limitation?

He’s morally perfect - already surpassing All Might in character from the start (as evidenced by his positive influence on people All Might failed, including All Might himself). He has no conflict as regards his goal - he’s not a reluctant chosen one - his goal is aligned with the power and legacy he gets. His power is a stronger version of All Might’s. So logically, he should be able to do everything alone that All Might could.

So the limit doesn’t lie in Deku’s character, nor in the goal, nor in the power. So where is it?

Because of quirk singularity, OFA has become more difficult to handle than it was at All Might’s time, which in the beginning gives Deku all kinds of limitaitons and broken bones, that he could only solve by lowering his power-output. He had to nerf himself to be able to continue.

This is a good limitation, but unfortunately the story didn’t deliver so far on the consequences. While in the Muscular fight Deku permanently damages his arms, this damage didn’t really hold him back so far in a credible way. He wins against Overhaul with the biggest plot-device ever (Eri-backpack), and he manages to smash ShigarAFO endlessly without much visible harm.

Also, because of “plot”, OFA underwent an evolution where it opened up the actual quirks of the previous users to Deku. This was in my view a very bad development, that made Deku less interesting. Suddenly, he had all these extra powers for free (so far neither Black Whip, nor Float came with any drawback whatsoever) that means:

- he can do everything better than other characters, making their niche powers redundant and sucking the oxygen out of their arcs (how could a Sero, Froppy or Uraraka fight look cool now that Deku can do all that but better and on a grander scale)? He has the most power, the most speed, long range, short range, snare, flight - basically the best of everything.

- he has a convenient tool for everything that gets him out of every situation and makes it so that the consequences he suffered because of OFA-singularity to his body don’t apply anymore - he could use Black Whip as a brace and continue smashing with broken arms, and even when his body was broken, he could help Todoroki with his tongue (unlike before in the Forest, when Bakugou was kidnapped).

These upgrades don’t come from any personal development or growth, but all come from OFA’s evolution. Deku also doesn’t struggle much with the extra powers (masters Black Whip in a week and Float instantenously - with some pre-training).

Plus, in the latest chapters his quirklessness has been retconned into making him the perfect vessel, pretty much abandoning the physical consequences as a limit to OFA singularity. Whatever damage his body sustains is always repairable or can be overcome with new gizmos or using the extra quirks.

So did multi-quirk OFA ruin the OFA plot irrevocably?

I think it did a lot of damage to Deku as a character (no growth, no conflict, no clear story-reason why he should be his own hero relying on others rather than still wanting to be an upgraded All Might-god), and to the story overall, by trivializing and making useless other characters who we as audience were invested in. Seeing everyone becoming nothing but fodder sucks big time in my view.

But I think there could still be interesting things be done with OFA due to quirk singularity. As we’ve seen with Shigaraki and the nomu - multiple quirks come with a price to be paid not only physically, but also mentally.

So far Deku is not paying any price for it though. All the extra quirks have come without drawbacks. Danger Sense has the potential to start wearing Deku down mentally though - due to sensing the crisis situations but not being able to be everywhere at once and wearing himself out.

Another thing I’d like to see is the pain and self-sacrifice of all the previous users taking a toll, as well as finally having some of these randomly chosen people to be not perfect. I think having multiple personalities living in Deku’s head shouldn’t look like a peaceful royal tea party.

All these users gave up a lot to get Deku here, so I feel like there should be some pressure on him from inside to get the job done or at least some disagreement about Deku’s plan to make nice with Tomura instead of eliminating AFO (remember, it’s the last chance!). So I think maybe whatever chat he had with 2nd and 3rd provided some conflict between the wills of the previous users, resulting in conflicting wishes for Deku.

All these could lead towards a mental exhaustion or breakdown that could be an interesting moment for Deku as a protagonist and really give him the clarity that repeating history is useless, a solo saviour is not the right answer, but changing the system and empowering everyone else is.

Since the power-scaling of OFA is already off the charts, I think it would be good to make it hurt more. It should feel like a terrible mental and physical burden (something like Frodo with the One Ring) to mirror Tomura being suffocated by AFO, so when the two powers destroy each other (which I really hope is the endgame), it will feel cathartic - that giving up and destroying that great power liberates Deku and saves his life so he can continue as a great hero (but scaled back towards the other in-universe top powers) who kept his humanity and his chance of a normal life full of meaningful bonds.

I’m also wondering how the story will close the society-level quirk singularity plot. One option is that all quirks are somehow tied to AFO (it being the original source) so AFO’s destruction leads to the elimination or gradual decline of all quirks - which would be cohrerent with Deku being the “greatest” - he would hold the peak power at peak quirk level.

Or it may be left unresolved, leaving the door open for a sequel where the ultimate “evil” is quirk singularity doomsday itself.

#bnha meta #bnha endgame speculation #ofa #midoirya izuku #quirk singularity #afo #ofa plot

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closedafterdark · 4 years

Note

THANKYOU!! for writing the hyunjin scenario it was amazing!! Your writing is really good. If it okay can you write about kimlip? Where she tries to prove that she's a better fuck than heejin? Thankyou again!!!

Thanks to @nsfwtwicecatcher for helping me with this.

“Ahh, it feels so good to be home.”

Jeon Heejin kicks off her shoes and runs inside the apartment, not bothering to unpack anything from your week-long vacation. You watch her cutely jump onto your bed, landing on her tummy and sprawling her entire body. Heejin was still a kid at heart, just one of the many things you loved about her.

“Babe, we have to do laundry and clean the house. We haven’t been home in awhile.” you said, sitting down next to her.

“Oppa, you’re no fun!” she pouted, puffing her cheeks at you.

“Come on, my little bunny. We’ll feel so much better after doing these chores. We can even lounge around everywhere and order in.” you said, pinching her soft stretchy cheeks.

“Hmph.” she said, fixing your hair. “But we’re going to do more than just lounge tonight.”

“Was spending almost the entire vacation in bed not enough for you?” you asked.

“No! You forgot our bubble tea and on top of that, you fucked that bitch Hyunjin in the rental car.” Heejin replied.

You leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips.

“I told you I was sorry, baby. Plus I’m pretty sure whatever anger you had, you used in the bedroom.”

Heejin smirked as she climbed on top of you, kissing you slowly and passionately as you two fell back onto the bed.

“Bunny loves when daddy compliments her.” she replied.

“You do? Well, daddy loves when his little bunny screams for him.” you said, kissing her harder.

Heejin laughed as she kissed you, holding onto your face.

“Why don’t I give daddy a preview of what’s to come tonight?” Heejin said, giving you a quick peck on the lips before slowly getting down on her knees on the side of the bed.

Heejin gave you the most seductive gaze as she unzipped your jeans and slipped them off you. Her hands were soft and warm, pulling your boxers down right after.

“Daddy’s already so hard for Heejin.” she said, smirking. She started slowly rubbing her face against your cock, you felt the edges of her nose and the softness of her lips press against you.

“Heejin…” you moaned as she slid her tongue from your balls all the way to the tip, covering you in saliva.

“Oh fuck…”

She teased your head, drawing circles around it with her tongue as she ran her puckered lips up and down your shaft. She made sure to draw out as much precum as she could. Doing her best to lick every surface possible, Heejin began leaving trails of saliva behind.

“Does daddy want Heejin’s mouth on his cock now?”

“P-Please.”

You instantly felt Heejin’s soft, wet lips wrap themselves around the tip of your cock.

“Ahh…” you moaned out as she sucked on your tip lightly and steadily.

Heejin tied her hair into a ponytail as she sucked your cock, knowing you were going to facefuck her. The moment she finished, you held onto it with one hand and her jaw with the other as you began thrusting your cock into her mouth, feeling it touch the back of her throat as her saliva slowly dripped down onto your balls. Unlike with Hyejoo or Yerim, Heejin has given you so many blowjobs that she no longer had a gag reflex.

You wanted to do the laundry and unpack your suitcases, but Heejin sucking your cock was well worth the wait.

You woke up the next morning alone. Still sore from Heejin’s insatiable libido, you groggily rubbed your eyes and checked your phone. How Heejin had the energy to get up and leave before you was something you will never understand.

“Hi, Baby! I’m still sore from how hard you fucked me. Anyways, I’m sorry we couldn’t spend the morning together. Had to pick up a shift at the restaurant since Jiwoo unnie called out. Hope you enjoy your day off! I love you.”

As you smiled rereading Heejin’s text, another one popped up on your screen.

“Hey, oppa! It’s been awhile. Hope you and Heejin are doing good! Anyways if you’re not too busy, do you think you can swing by my art studio? I wanted to show you some of the photos I’ve taken before anyone else sees. Call me back whenever you can!”

Letting her know you’d be able to make it, you do morning stretches and get out of bed.

Twenty minutes later, you were outside an intimate looking building sandwiched in between apartment complexes. It looked out of place: the shiny, modern buildings contrasted the antique, slightly worn down look of the studio. You stood outside, checking your watch every few seconds.

“Oppa!”

Turning around, you were met with a beautiful smile. Her milky skin and sharp features complemented her natural beauty. She instantly brought you in for a hug.

“Hi, Jungeun.”

“Let me show you around.” she said after leaving your embrace.

The walls were lined with photos that she took during her various travels. She was rarely around, having her in the country for a month was already considered a miracle. But she made sure to keep the group chat updated with photos and videos of her wherever she went.

“So, oppa.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you know why I called you here?”

“Wasn’t it to show me this art studio? Because it looks really nice.”

You scanned the photos, smiling at a photo of you and the rest of the group. One of the very first times you all got together, you missed moments like those since everyone seemed to be doing their own thing now. You observe the walls until your hand brushes against a white, logoless remote.

“Jungeun, what is this?” you asked, holding it in your hand to show her.

“Oppa, wai-” Her eyes widened as she suddenly jumped in surprise after you pressed a button.

“Jungeun, are you okay?”

“Y-Yes, oppaaa…” she managed to gasp out of her throat as she felt a sudden vibration flow through her body.

You look at her suddenly weak expression - beads of perspiration on her forehead begin to form as you realize what you are holding in your hand.

“Jungeun…”

“Shh, oppa. I wore it, just for you.” she said, placing a finger on your lips before smiling at you naughtily and biting her lower lip.

You pressed another button on the remote, watching her eyes slowly roll to the back of her head as her facial expression transitioned once more. She let out a moan, clenching her teeth before holding onto your arm for support. Pushing the button once more, Jungeun moaned loudly.

“Oppa, stop! Please… I’m still sensitive.” she cried.

“The girls told me how good in bed you are. I figured it would be my turn to show you I’m a better fuck than all of them. Especially that bratty girlfriend of yours Heejin.”

You raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised by Jungeun’s straightforwardness. Her seductive smile deepens as you slowly approach her, running your hand under her dress. Her thighs were smooth, creamy and began forming goosebumps once your cold hand inspected every inch of them.

“And what makes you think I would want to sleep with you, miss Jungeun?”

“Look at me, I’m hot. Although I admit, Yerim is much prettier than I am sometimes. Just sometimes. Plus, you need a woman to satisfy you. Not that child Jeon Heejin.”

“Jungeun, you’re only about a year older than her…”

“Oppa! It’s a year and 8 months, thank you very much!” She whined, pulling your body closer to hers. You pressed the button on the remote control again as your hand cupped between her thighs, unsurprised that she was not wearing any underwear. You felt the heat radiating from her, hearing Jungeun moan as the tingling sensation of the vibrator inside her pulsed on your hand. She was already so wet from less than a few minutes of you activating it.

“Such an elegant looking beauty being so naughty…” you said to her.

“Jungeun wants daddy to know she’s a bad girl…” she said, smiling as she began planting soft kisses on your lips.

“It’s a good thing daddy’s ready to go then…” you said, pressing the button once more causing Jungeun’s mouth to open as she moans.

Disconnecting your lips from each other, Jungeun presses her forehead against yours. Both of you struggle to catch your breaths before she takes your hand and leads you into a hidden room. Jungeun’s studio was spacious, a well-designed modern space that was filled with various photos and memories from her travels. The large windows provided plenty of natural lighting, but would also give anyone who viewed inside a good view of what was going on.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Jungeun asked as she held her hand up and showed you her displays.

“It really is.” you said, although your attention was fully focused on Jungeun’s soft features being reflected on the window.

She smiled, slightly blushing as she knew you were talking about her.

The soft, pink cherry blossom designed dress hugged her body perfectly as she turned around. Jungeun’s face was one of the things you found most beautiful about her, almost akin to the various photos and artworks she has that decorate the walls.

Jungeun reverses backwards, still holding your hand until she feels her back softly hit the window. You bring your hand up and gently rub her cheeks, causing her to nuzzle her face against your palm. Both of you smiled as you inhaled the intoxicating aroma of her perfume.

She looks up at you and you become enamored by her hauntingly beautiful gaze. Leaning down, Jungeun raises her head until your noses touch, causing both of you to giggle. Lingering for a few seconds, you noticed her bright red lips, seeing her lick them in anticipation before you two begin kissing, your lips coming together as her straightforwardness and the sexual tension that quickly developed between you two is finally being released.

You feel her long, thin arms wrap themselves around your neck as you press your body forwards towards her. Wrapping your arms around her waist, you are happy to discover she is not wearing any form of upper undergarment when your hands roam her back. Her tongue forces its way into your mouth, causing you to be surprised slightly. Heejin and Sooyoung told you Jungeun had become more daring ever since her time overseas, but this was not what you were expecting.

As you continue to explore each other’s mouths, Jungeun’s fingers find their way to your belt, loosening them quickly.

“I bet you haven’t experienced something like this before, daddy.” she said, her eyes filled with lust once she breaks the kiss and looks at you.

Jungeun quickly lowers herself onto her knees, grabbing the belt loops of your slacks and dragging them down along with her. Tugging your pants that were on your ankles, she grabs them and tosses them into a random corner of the room.

“Jungeun, you’re not the first girl to give me a blowjob.” you said, slightly laughing.

You felt your boxers be removed seconds later, your cock fully exposed in front of her. She licks her lips, wetting them in preparation for her next act.

“While that’s true, I meant you haven’t experienced getting one when anyone passing by can see us.” she said.

Before you could reply, you let out a soft moan as she uses her soft, delicate fingers and wraps them around your almost fully erect cock. Her tongue gives you small, wet licks from the base of your shaft until your tip. She giggles when she feels you are truly hard for her. She pumps your shaft several times in a painfully slow manner. She gathers spit from deep inside her throat, releasing it onto the tip of your cock. Making sure you were fully lubricated, Jungeun takes you inside her mouth.

You looked down and admired the beautiful young woman on her knees with your cock inside her warm, wet mouth. She giggled as she sucked on your tip.

“Daddy likes when his little Jungeun sucks his cock, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, fuck…” you moaned as she strokes you while continuing to take your cock into her mouth.

While Jungeun bobs her head up and down, you do your best to look outside. Knowing you would cum right away if you continued to look down at her, you noticed that the outside street was relatively empty. You were thankful. Although it slightly turned you on knowing someone could see Jungeun giving you head, it was still relatively early in the morning. But here you were, getting a blowjob from one of the many beautiful women you know. You always admired her beauty and gave her small compliments here and there, but there was something equally alluring about Kim Jungeun being on her knees in front of you: her rich, chestnut hair bobbing up and down.

You ran your fingers through her beautiful, slightly damp hair.

“Good girl.” you encouraged her, causing her to smile at you with her eyes as she continued sucking your cock. Gently guiding her head into a comfortable rhythm, you watched the various cars pass by. There’s no way they weren’t aware of what was going on inside Jungeun’s studio.

“Baby, stop.” you said, slowly withdrawing Jungeun’s head from your cock. She releases you with a loud pop, her beautifully shiny eyes looking up at you as she gives you a cute pout that can be comparable to Heejin’s.

“Daddy wants to fuck you now.” you continued, as you lowered yourself onto the floor and joined her. She smiles at you sweetly before straddling your lap and sitting on your thighs. Holding onto her waist to steady her, you grab onto the ends of her dress and raise it upwards. Jungeun closes her eyes in satisfaction as she raises her long limbs and allows you to remove the confining piece of clothing from her beautiful body. She was petite like Heejin, but was top two in naked bodies - along with Yerim. You wouldn’t dare say that out loud, knowing Heejin would smile at you and put your cock in a chastity belt if she found out.

Kissing you once more, you feel every ounce of her desire and lust with each connection. You savor her sweet lips, her lipstick having the faintest taste of strawberries. She tears her lips away from yours, giving you quick pecks before creating a trail on your neck. Regretfully removing herself once more, she goes to your right ear, blowing hot air that sends shivers down your spine.

“I want daddy to fuck me.” she says in a sensual whisper.

Jungeun returns to planting soft kisses on your neck and jaw as you admire the beautiful woman on your lap in front of a large window in broad daylight. She was extremely wet, her pussy juices staining your thighs as you guided her while she rubbed her crotch up and down yours.

You bring your hands upwards as her small, perky breasts are in front of you. Heejin was slightly bigger, but Jungeun’s felt a lot softer. You cupped them both, your thumbs playing with her rapidly hardening nipples. A soft moan escaped her lips as you moved your head up and took her left nipple inside your mouth. Your tongue moved up and down rapidly as you savored her sensitive buds. Most of the women you’ve slept with had pink nipples, so it was refreshing to find out Jungeun’s were darker. While you continue sucking on her left breast, your hand does not leave her other one unattended as you take her right nipple into your fingertips. As you stimulate Jungeun, you feel her wet crotch and thighs continue to dampen yours as she grinds herself on your cock.

“Come ride daddy, Jungeun.” you said to her once you tear your mouth away from her chest. Her hair is now damp, her eyes filled with the look of a woman who needed to be satisfied. She reaches behind her and finds your cock, stroking it several times and applying her pussy juices as a lubricant. Once she ensured you were thoroughly covered, she squats her body slightly above yours. Taking your cock in between her gentle fingers, she lines up your crotches together. You feel only the head of your cock penetrating her tight walls, as she spreads her legs open and allows you inside. Soft sensations of pleasure can be felt before Jungeun suddenly lowers her hips and takes all of you inside her body.

You both moaned in satisfaction, the frivolous foreplay a good build up but could never compare to the feeling of the first penetration of a new partner. Jungeun was ridiculously tight, probably the tightest woman you’ve ever been inside. The muscles of her pussy squeezing your cock in a mix of pain and pleasure the moment you enter her.

“Oh fuck, daddy…” Jungeun moans out when you are fully inside her. You assume she is giving herself time to adjust to your size before she begins raising her hips and withdrawing your cock from her body until only your tip is left before slamming her body back downwards again.

There was nothing better than your cock being inside a woman’s pussy. Heejin was a fierce competitor when it came to being tight, hot and wet - but Jungeun was in a class all her own. Perhaps it was because you’ve never actually slept with her. It could also be because you only had Heejin on your mind constantly that her friends throwing themselves at you made them feel even better. Or, it could just be your inner desires to savor the feeling of being intimate with someone that wasn’t your own girlfriend. Whatever the case may be, Jungeun was tight, her pussy having a tight vice grip on your cock as it entered and exited her body. You believe she could very well be the tightest woman you’ve fucked so far.

“Fuck! Yes, daddy…” Jungeun cried as she bounced up and down your cock, grinding herself on you while circling her hips left to right simultaneously. “You feel so fucking big, daddy. Ahh!”

The wet sounds coming from your bodies being connected is something you will never get tired of. Jungeun bounces up and down your lap, her long thin limbs firmly pushing her weight onto your chest as she rides you. Heejin was a gym rat, always wanting to keep her body toned for herself, but equally for you. You noticed Jungeun was the same, usually eating vegetables or foods that conformed to her strict dietary regimen from the few interactions you had with her whenever she was in town. You admired her cute thighs as they slammed repeatedly against yours.

You were on your back against the window, unable to see if anyone was watching you fuck the beautiful woman who owned the art studio. Jungeun didn’t care about her surroundings, throwing her head back as you hear long drawn out moans become incoherent syllables as she surrenders herself to pleasure and her desires. Repeatedly fucking herself on your cock, you feel every muscle in her pussy tighten as it builds up pleasure between the two of you.

You never really imagined Kim Jungeun had this side of her - a woman who has a lot of respect for herself and would not be intimate unless she was sure about them. But here she was, happily bouncing up and down your cock as you gave her what she wanted.

“Daddy’s cock feels so good inside me… Do you like fucking my tight pussy?”

“Fuck yes, Jungeun…” you said, a tightness forming in your chest as her hands continue to be firmly planted.

You have never been with a woman whose pussy is this tight. It helps you discover a new craving, you want Jungeun to ride you until you cum inside her, holding onto her hips before slamming them down as you fill her. But you had to teach her a lesson. No one got away with badmouthing your girlfriend Jeon Heejin without a lust filled pounding.

“Jungeun, stop.” you said, causing her to instantly stop bouncing on your cock. As she catches her breath, you notice her flushed expression. Her body is now covered in sweat, her facial expression showing you she is slightly surprised at your request.

Jungeun whines as you slowly withdraw her body from your cock, wanting you to still be inside her. As you bring yourself upwards, you bring her along with you until you are both standing. As her chest heaves while she catches her breath, you turn her around until her body is pressed against the glass window. With your cock that is now coated in her juices, you enter her tight body once more.

“Fuck, daddy!” Jungeun shouted as you were in control while fucking her. You secretly hoped someone would pass by and watching you fuck your girlfriend’s friend. Not that either of you would stop if they did, the thought of being watched would turn you on even more than you already were.

“You’re so beautiful, Jungeun… and tight.” you said as you thrusted inside her pussy. You wanted to get revenge, show her that you wouldn’t be satisfied with her thinking she was better than your girlfriend.

Lustful sounds escape her lips as you continued pressing her body against the glass while roughly fucking her.

“Shut up daddy and fuck me!” she screamed.

You smacked her ass, hard. In this new position, Jungeun was even tighter than before. Her soft, small round ass reverberated against your torso as each thrust of your cock caused her to moan. You held onto her one of her hips while continuing to slap her ass.

“You don’t tell daddy what to do! Especially when you said not nice things about my girlfriend.”

Another loud slap can be heard as Jungeun cries from pleasure.

“Are you seriously getting wet from me slapping you? You’re behaving like such a slut right now!”

“I’m not a slut, daddy! I just want you to realize I’m tighter than that slut bunny Heejin!”

You slap her ass once more as you continued fucking Kim Jungeun. Throwing her head back once more, her drenched hair flies everywhere as you held her thin waist and pushed it back towards you. You wanted to be deeper inside her, make her feel all of you. Her wet body and natural aroma during sex turned you on even more. The friction between your bodies further accentuated the sinful act.

Jungeun’s tight pussy was making you dangerously close to your orgasm. While you continued fucking her, she tried unsuccessfully to try and grip onto something from the pleasure you were giving her.

“Jungeun, daddy’s about to cum. I can’-”

“I’m cumming too! Don’t you dare pull out, daddy.” she said, the soft stream of moans and tones of pleasure escaping her lust filled mouth. “Daddy… I’m cumming!”

Jungeun’s body shakes violently as the pleasure completely consumes her and she erupts in an orgasm. Her pussy contracted and pulses around your cock as you continued to thrust. The pain from how tight she is is beginning to be slightly unbearable, but you managed to fuck her through it as her pussy allows you to enter her even easier.

“Daddy’s close, Jungeun.”

“Cum inside me, daddy. Fill your naughty slut up.” she said, her voice gradually weakening in tone and volume.

You thrusted deeper and deeper inside her pussy, her body being pushed against the window. Your repeated thrusts inside Jungeun trigger another orgasm for her as yours finally arrives. Both of you enter a euphoric high as you climax at the same time.

Gripping onto Jungeun’s hips, you thrust inside her one last time as deep as you could. Hot, thick semen releases from your cock as it enters her pussy. You fuck her with several short, quick thrusts as you prolong the pleasure you two are currently feeling.

You unconsciously wanted to stay inside her for as long as you could. The two of you could not overcome natural biology however, as your energy is depleted and you guide her onto the cold wooden floor. You managed to be still inside her, perhaps her pussy refused to let you go. Whatever the case may be, you were thankful that your bodies didn’t disconnect.

Heavy breathing and your chest pressing against her sweaty back are all you can feel as you both slowly begin the recovery from the intense sexual activity that just occurred. Jungeun tilts her head slightly so that she is facing you, causing you to tuck the damp strands of hair clinging to her face behind her cute ears.

She gives you a fatigue filled giggle as you both smile at each other. You lean forward and give her a kiss. While not as passionate as when you began, it was filled with emotion. You gave Jungeun a kiss filled with love. Being the one to break the kiss, you opened your eyes and saw her smiling softly at you once more.

“Daddy… that was… so intense…” Jungeun breathed out.

You smiled, capturing her lips once more as you were finally able to withdraw your cock from her. Jungeun moans as she feels you exit her, a stream of liquid beginning to flow out of her flushed thighs and freshly fucked pussy. You stretched your right arm out so that she could be facing you, Jungeun instantly cuddling you. Your hands roamed her lower body, gently massaging her butt. There was nothing more beautiful than the afterglow of a woman after sex. Jungeun’s natural beauty felt almost angelic, the large window that provided plenty of natural lighting allowing you to see her positively radiating.

A satisfied breath escaped her lips, letting you know just how good you made her feel.

“Oppa, I haven’t been fucked like that in… Fuck, I don’t know how long. You were amazing.” Jungeun said. “No wonder Heejin wants to keep you all for herself.”

“You were pretty good yourself, Jungeun. I haven’t fucked a pussy that tight in so long.” you said, laughing.

“I’m yours whenever you want me.” she said, giving you a tender kiss on the lips.

“Whenever that slut Heejin’s pussy can’t satisfy you, call me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” you said.

“I guess we should clean up, right? You came so much inside me.” she said, slowly struggling to stand up.

She extends her hand out, offering to help you up. As you pull her back towards you, she begins giggling as you shower her with kisses.

“Oppa, stop! We have to clean up.” she whines, laughing as she unsuccessfully tries to escape your hold.

“You’re going to let oppa leave right away?” you said, pretending to be hurt.

“No silly, I really did want to show you my artwork and the fun stuff I’ve been working on. But…” she said.

“Daddy’s getting hard again... and luckily my studio does have a shower and kitchen.” Jungeun continued, slowly stroking your cock to full erection.

“Why don’t we clean ourselves up in the shower and you make us something to eat?” she said, kissing you once more.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“And this time… you can fuck me in my ass. I’m sure Heejin’s never let you do that before.”

She continues having a firm grip on your cock before leading you into the studio’s bathroom.

#asks #loona smut #loona #kim lip #kimberly lippington

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

Text

You’re The One I Want To Go Through Time With

Day one of HWOL is finally here!! So excited to share all I’ve written! For today I chose the prompt Neighbors AU!!! You can read this on ao3 also as part of the collection as well!! Hope y’all like it!!

Word Count: 11,952

Rated: G

It finally happens when he’s 15 years old. It’s not like he hasn’t seen it coming, but Steve gets kicked out.

In the very beginning of a particularly brutal Hawkins summer, he had decided to invite Tommy over to smoke weed in the pool house. He thought nothing of it, but the neighbors complained about the smell, and, coupled with every other act of his deemed irresponsible, immature, disgraceful, by his stuck-up parents, a couple of blunts was apparently the last straw.

They tell him the Harringtons had a reputation, an air of elegance and respect they had to upkeep, so they couldn’t just let him bring drugs onto their property. He thought it was ridiculous, considering that they were allowed as much wine aging in the cellar and expensive whiskey propped up on a hutch as they wanted, but when he’d brought it up he’d gotten nothing but a stern look.

They’d been through this a thousand times over, how worthless and terrible a son he could be, grounding him for bringing too many girls home, taking his car away when he failed a class, so he knew to expect a punishment.

This is obviously the next step, the throwing him out on the street thing, for years he could feel the neglect and tension starting to build up and boil over. Sometimes, they’d even hang threats of it over his head, so now that was told he had to be out of the mansion by the end of next week or there would be consequences, it couldn’t be too much of a shocker.

Though at some point, he’s got to wonder if they ever really thought as far ahead as consequences, or if they just knew they trained their boy well enough that it never got that far. If only he had more of a spine.

Now, as unsurprising as the scenario may be, Steve was still absolutely in no way, by any means ready to be thrown out on the streets before he even had his driver’s license.

In the case of emergency, like the time Stephen Sr. got just a little too rough and popped his wrist out of place, or when they’d left him alone for a month at age 9 and he went three days without food because he didn’t know how to turn the stove on, he had his aunt, the thankfully much more compassionate counterpart to his mother, who lived over in California.

The minute they’re gone, having passive aggressively hurried off somewhere, probably the country club or something, to complain about how disappointing their son was with their rich friends, Steve grabs a suitcase from the closet and gives his Aunt Margaret a call.

Before he knows it she’s got him a flight booked, a written agreement from her sister that proved taking him in was legal, and a set of luggage. Three days later, he was flying first class towards the rest of his life.

~~~~~~~

Touching down in San Francisco has got to be the most surreal thing he’s ever done.

He’d never even left the Midwest before, his farthest ventures being into the three states surrounding his home state, so to be charted off to the west coast? It’s an experience alright.

Aunt Margaret is there waiting for him, her jet black permed hair a few inches above the rest, her brown eyes sparkling with the kindest smile he’s ever seen as she runs up to hug him.

She takes all of his bags, swatting his hands away when he tries to carry even one, and makes him sit in the car while she shoves it all into the trunk.

He wasn’t used to not being the help, since that’s all his parents ever really saw him as anyways, only valuable as their son if they got something out of the time they spent with him. It’s got him feeling weird the whole drive back to the Margos apartment, like he’s in some alternate reality where people are nice to him for a change.

She lives in one of those shared places, a duplex where the house is divided into two halves for two different renters, the very kind his mother would’ve turned her nose up at despite having been raised in one herself. Margaret told him there was a mother and son who lived in the other half, but they’re quiet enough, and polite.

Just pulling up outside of the house, Steve already knows it’s everything he’s ever wanted.

The house itself, painted a pale shade of peeling yellow and missing the majority of the shingles off of the roof, is actually a reasonable size, a direct contrast to the mansion he grew up in, fit for a dozen but occupied by one most days.

Brutal summer heat has dried up the lawn and the garden so they aren’t perfectly tailored, not trimmed by underpaid staff or watered by automatic sprinklers. All across it there’s a scattering of ornaments, like colorful pinwheels in the front garden, and plastic flamingos standing guard by the mailbox.

There’s even a rickety old fence, all mossy and broken up to mark the edges of their property, so different from the white vinyl fence in his backyard at his parents house.

It would seem too that the garage was only big enough for one car, not three like he was used to, and that the makeshift gravel driveway leading up to it was at max capacity with only his aunts Oldsmobile Cutlass Calais, and a dinged up old Karmann Ghia the same color as the house parked in it.

Basically, there were none of the telltale signs that a neglected rich boy lived there, and from that alone he already knew he belonged here.

His aunt hurries him into their section of the house, theirs is the right side, so he can get to resting off the jet lag before he starts unpacking, but he’s far too distracted taking everything in to worry about being a little drowsy.

The rooms are small and the ceilings are low. Where there would’ve been beige and white and other sophisticated tones, there was a rainbow of colors in Margos apartment, from the curtains to the carpet, the Afghan on the back of the couch to the little trinkets in the entertainment center and windowsills.

He notices that, to accommodate for the heavy summer heat, there was a fan spinning in the corner, and all the windows were left wide open. His parents had the windows painted shut back home.

It might’ve been overwhelming, being thrown into a place like this so suddenly, but in his heart he knows this was what he was made for: a cozy life with someone who treated him with the bare minimum of respect.

~~~~~~~

Eventually Steve does fall asleep, the switch from Eastern Standard to Pacific time just being too great for his body. He doesn’t really mean to, he thought he’d just lay down for a minute while he was putting his clothes away in his new dresser, but he ends up sleeping until it’s almost dark out.

He goes looking for Margo when he realizes the house is empty, an irrational pit of dread growing in his chest at the familiarity of being alone, and finds her out back.

The yard also seems to be shared with the other house, a wispy line of barely showing through grass separating the two where a divider had once been, but had since been ripped up.

His aunt is with another woman, a blonde lady who he assumed was from the next door apartment, were sitting in mismatched lawn chairs, cigarettes glowing as the sun got lower and lower in the sky.

Margaret beckons him over once she notices him, and shows him off to the woman. It’s not at all like his mother would’ve done it, none of the flaunting him to make a good impression. This is more like her wanting to introduce him because she genuinely cares.

In a way, it almost makes Steve more uneasy. He could handle all the fake stuff with only the slightest hint of discomfort at being gawked at, because most of the time he’d never have to see those people again, but this was astronomically different.

“Maria, this is my nephew Steve.” Deep blue eyes seem to take him in, accompanied by a polite smile that makes his stomach drop for no good reason.

He panics, shifts into the role of the perfect little socialite he’d been working on his whole life. Without thinking, he extends his hand for her to and produces the generic response his mother’d trained into him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Ms..”

She takes his hand, but looks a little surprised about doing it. “Hargrove. But we don’t have to do formalities.”

“Right.” It feels awkward to Steve, but judging from the laid back attitude of the women, it’s not a universal sentiment. That only makes it more embarrassing, to be the only one bothered by it.

His aunt leans back in her chair, tapping the ash of the end of her cigarette and tells him, “Go ahead and grab a chair Stevie.”

He straightens his back out and scans the yard, expecting a chair to already be propped open somewhere. The confusion must be apparent on his face when he finds nothing but grass and more grass, because his aunt specifies, “By the shed, kiddo.”

His parents always told him they weren’t allowed to have lawn furniture except the pool chairs cemented to the ground, because they said it didn’t fit the lifestyle they tried to lead. Even the concept of a shed would’ve been insulting to their tastes.

He's done enough growing up to know now that they were just afraid to look too much like they were people who lived in rural Indiana instead of in true big city luxury. They couldn’t risk seeming too much like they weren’t in the upper middle, it would be a disgrace.

The contrast between that and just sitting out there and not having his guard up is so, grounding. Not having anything at all to do but just, sit and appreciate instead of performing and worrying, it’s a lot to take in at once.

He was so nervous the whole way up, even though it was his aunt and he already knew she was nice, that they wouldn’t get along, since that’s the way things always were with his own mum, and lord knows he hardly ever even spoke to his father.

But it’s really not tense at all, actually, it’s sort of the opposite. For once in his life he feels free of expectations, and takes the moment to just exist. Ruthie and Stephen Sr. had long ago made sure that was a concept he could barely understand.

It’s not too long after that that the screen door to Maria’s side of the house swings open, scaring Steve so bad he almost tips his chair over as he startles.

There’s a boy who he’s guessing is about his age leaning out the door, but from the distance he’s at and with how dark it’s getting, Steve doesn’t see much else about him. “M back momma.”

“Okay baby.” The screen door clicks shut again in the next moment, and Maria offers Steve an apologetic smile “You’ve gotta excuse my Billy. He’s not too good with other kids.”

“No, it’s alright.” He assures her, like a polite social butterfly should.

Maria goes in a little while after that, and Margaret and Steve follow suit, since the sun’s almost all the way down.

But Steve’s curious now. He wants to know more about the boy, Billy, he thinks was what Maria called him. It’s only right to wonder, being that they’re neighbors now and all.

It gets brought up later that night, when they’re watching TV on the couch, a thrifted, feather stuffed thing he thought was simultaneously the most hideous and most comfortable thing he’d ever sat on.

“I didn’t know you had neighbors.” He’d been trying to work himself up to talking about it, sitting in the corner of the couch in a little ball and picking at his nails as he worked up his courage.

It was funny, being so nervous over casual conversation, but he guesses he could blame his parents for that one.

His own mum wouldn’t have even paid him any mind, at most pretending to listen while her eyes stayed trained to the television or magazine or coworker in front of her and hummed a non committal response, but Margo turns her whole body on the couch to face him while she answers him, with a complete sentence even. “Oh, people used to come and go all the time over there.”

“How long have they been here? Maria and her son?”

She thinks for a moment, a little surprised at her nephew's interest in the topic of their neighbors. “I don’t know, probably about a year or so now.”

“What’re they like?” He comes across as maybe a little too eager, and his aunt notices.

“What’s got you so curious?” There’s a teasing bit of reprimanding in her tone, just enough to suggest that she knows he’s being a nib-nose, but doesn’t mind it.

And he feels himself flush, because he is being nosy. To try to save face just a little, he comes up with an excuse that isn’t quite a lie. “Nothin’, just knew all my neighbors back in Hawkins, I guess.”

But she wasn’t upset with him, it wasn’t her intention to get him to shut up, like it would’ve been had he heard the same thing from one Ruthie Harrington, so she answers that question too. “I don’t know, they’re nice, sort of reserved, but I’ve never had any problems with them.”

~~~~~~

The two boys are properly introduced for the first time the next morning, when Steve goes out to fetch the mail for Margret. It feels like the least he can do for bumming off of his aunt.

Stepping out on the porch just shy of 8 in the morning and not seeing dewey grass, or the early sunshine muted behind rolling fog and dreary clouds is something he’s going to have to get used to.

Summers in Hawkins were always muggy, full of thunderstorms and unpredictably dreary days. San Francisco is so bright, so different, and such a relief.

While Steve basks in it, the already warm breeze and the sun shining bright, the neighbors’ door opens up and Billy comes out to do the same, standing on his tip-toes to reach up into the mailbox beside the door, holding a traveler's mug of coffee in the opposite hand.

When he turns around to go back inside, Steve, staying true to wanting to get to know the other boy better, has taken a few steps closer, and has extended a hand for Billy to shake, the same sort of introduction panic he’d felt last night.

But, Billy, seeing that his hands are a bit preoccupied by a stack of bills and a cup of coffee, just offers a sheepish smile.

Steve settles for a formal introduction without a handshake, though it’s still too stiff an interaction to really get to know him beyond the awkward new rich kid in town. “Hi. My name is Steve Harrington. I’m uh, I'm your new neighbor.”

“Pleasure to meet you Steve Harrington. M’Billy” They stand there, neither of them making any move to do anything but just look at one another. Billy clears his throat and shakes the coffee cup towards Steve, sensing that maybe this was the place for hospitality. “You want some? My momma always makes too much.”

“No thanks. I’m uh, allergic to coffee beans.”

“Huh.” He seems amused by that, scrunches his nose up like he doesn’t believe it, and Steve wants to curl up and disappear. “I’ll see you later then, Steve Harrington.”

He watches the other boy turn back to leave after that, and still sort of just stands there before his brain comes back on and he realizes he should say something in return. “Right, uh, bye.”

It’s just a moment's passing, but Steve can’t get the interaction out of his head.

He chalks it up to being nervous that his new neighbors won’t like him, the fear that Aunt Margo will send him back to his parents if he can’t get along here, and that makes logical sense, except, what he’s caught up on is Billy’s crooked smile, and his blond curls that lay just past his ears, messy from just waking up and bleached from the sun, and the spatter of dark freckles across his nose.

First full day in California and he has a crush on the neighbor kid. He can’t believe himself.

There isn’t very much time to mull that fact over though, because, over breakfast, what his aunt calls her ‘special occasion breakfast’ of cinnamon rolls with ice cream, she tells him she’s going to do some errands today.

And that’s alright, he tells her he’ll be fine all by himself, and he is, for the first few hours, but the more time she’s gone, the worse and worse he starts to feel. It’s that worry again, that deep rooted fear that he’ll be left alone forever.

Experience has taught him to try to calm himself down, to catch his breath and try to focus on the fact that he knows he’s being irrational, but those techniques don’t cut it, as they often don’t, and he’s sending himself further into a panic attack trying to think too hard about it

Sitting inside, he gets stir crazy, feels suffocated by everything that had before been inviting to him, so he goes for some fresh air out front. Watching the road for so long, just waiting for the Oldsmobile to pull up, he starts to feel antsy again, so he goes out back where it’s quiet instead.

There’s a glider on the porch back there, an old rusty thing that squeaked every time Steve rocked it forward or back, but the calming motion of it is probably the only thing keeping him from spiraling too far.

He doesn’t really know what time it is anymore, only that he’s hungry, and that the sun’s going down, and that he’s been sort of zoned out back there for a long while. He feels hot and cold at the same time, and he’s lost in his head.

The sound of a screen door gently tapping against the side of the house brings his eyes up from the spot on the ground he’d been staring at with tears in his eyes, but it isn’t his aunt Margaret coming home, it’s just Billy.

With his hands stuffed in his pockets, leaning against the wall between the back doors, he says real quiet like, “Momma told me to ask if you wanted some of the dinner she made.”

He shrugs. “I’m alright.”

“I figured.” Billy looks at the floor while he tries to figure out how he wants to approach this. For a long moment, neither of them say a word, no sound between them but distant field crickets, until Billy asks, his voice quiet enough it barely registers in Steve’s mind. “You okay?”

If he’s being entirely honest, Steve doesn’t really know if he’s okay. He trusted his aunt enough to move all the way across the country with her, and yet he can’t manage enough trust to believe her when she said she’d come home from some errands? Doesn’t sound too okay to him.

But he’s not in Hawkins, he’s away from the people he knows for sure wouldn’t be coming back for him unless it was to pull something like they had and treat him like garbage. So in a way, he guesses he’s better than ever.

Unable to think of any words that might convey what he’s thinking, Steve just shrugs again, but Billy seems to get it. He sits down next to Steve on the glider and plants his feet so it won’t move, and so Steve’s attention will be on him.

Knowing he’s got Steve’s focus, since he looks over at him with glossy eyes, Billy tries to reassure him, “Your aunt’s a good lady. She wouldn’t leave you.”

“Who said I thought she would?” It sounds pathetic, wet and stuffy with the remnants of tears he hadn’t known were falling, but there’s a vulnerability he couldn’t hide behind even the toughest of masks that reveals he isn’t being honest.

“The way you watched for her car said enough.” It makes Steve feel exposed, having a total stranger see right through him, but Billy explains himself. “When my momma went out looking for this place, I was sure I’d never see her again.”

“Why did you guys move here?” If he was going to psychoanalyze Steve, he felt it was only fair to ask Billy a pressing question back.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me.” He deflects it back onto Steve in a way that might’ve seemed cocky, but it's obvious he’s just trying to avoid the question.

Steve won’t let him win this one though, maybe just to save his own ego, or pretend like he hadn’t been caught crying by someone he met that morning, or maybe it was just because he had asked first, but he wants Billy to answer, so he tells him, with the slightest hint of a bashful smile playing at his lips, “You first.”

“Stubborn.” He cracks a smile back though, and goes ahead and goes first at the other boys insistence. “My dad’s a real nasty s.o.b. Would get drunk and mean for no good reason, so momma took me and we high-tailed it before he did anything too drastic.”

He didn’t know what he was expecting, why he even felt like it was any of his business, and he doesn’t know what he should say to that.

For lack of a better response, he gives his own little life story summary. “My parents were rich. They didn’t want me, so they have the time of day for me. No matter what I did they punished me for it, grounded me, hit me, sent me to Christian school, until they just got sick of me, I guess.”

“That sounds pretty shitty.” Billy offered.

“Yeah, yours too.”

After a while, Billy, sounding for a moment like he’s a lot wiser than any 14 year old has the right to be, says “What matters is we’re here now.”

Steve feels so touched hearing that. It was so simple a thing for the other boy to say, but coming from Billy after he’d just shared what he did, it means a lot more than just basic condolences.

Hardly anybody had ever been that genuine in anything they said to him. Steve can hardly force a response out of his shocked mouth. As he looks over at Billy’s face, still turned up towards the sky, he sees all that meaning there illuminated by the stars, and he's able to mutter a breathless, “Yeah.” in response.

They both jump when the door flies open, and aunt Margo comes running over to Steve. Frantically she explains that she’d been trying to make sure everything was legal, only to find that some of Steve’s papers were missing, and they had to try to track them all down and get some of them faxed, and it ended up taking way longer than expected.

It feels nice to be understood. Just a few years ago his parents left for what was supposed to be a three day trip to Indianapolis, only they didn’t come back for what was almost two months. Once they were home they didn’t even mention it, just continued going about their business as usual until it was time to leave again. His aunt taking the effort to explain herself was already a vast improvement from that.

He lets her pull him into a big hug, accepts her apology as the air is squeezed out of his lungs, and when he pulls away from her, Billy’s gone.

~~~~~~~

Finish reading on ao3! You can find this posted under the same title by ej_writer or as part of the hwol collection over there! Sorry tumblrs word limits deemed this too long!

#harringrove week of love #billy x steve #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #story by ej!#this is both a neighbors au and a billy lives with his mother au!#and there's no upside down!#you can also maybe probably read this as autistic billy! it wasnt intentional but that happens sometimes #if its a fluffy fic chances are 90% of the time someones going to end up neurodivergent bc my autstic brain can’t help it #disclaimer I think tumble deleted a paragraph or two from this so if it doesn’t make sense just go ahead and find it on ao3 lol #can y'all tell I've never left the midwest and was sorta just guessing what california is like #the closest experience I had to what I wanted the vibes to be like was growing up on my mawmaws property in the country #and thats deffo not even a little bit the same but hey. work with what ya got!#out of all of the prompts I think this'n turned out to be one of my favorites to write #its kind of all over the place but that's okay lol #lord knows I never intended it to be this long either #this is barely edited because i stayed up literally all night to finish this because I procrastinated it too hard haha

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piratesfromspace · 3 years

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Five Times Din and Cobb protected you - and one time they didn’t have to

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Cobb Vanth x Reader

Summary: The title says it all. Five Times Din and Cobb protected you, saved you, or just cared for you - and one time they didn’t have to. It's just self-indulgent fluff to make you feel safe and loved, enjoy!

Those small stories represent part 2 of my series “A Mandalorian, a Marshal, and some complicated feelings”. You can read part 1 here: “Two saviors and some hope”. I strongly advise you read it first!

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, alcohol, brief mention of past abuse, sexual harassment, depiction of PTSD

A/N: Neutral pronouns for reader. English is not my native language, please be kind. Fic also available on ao3.

Part 1 ✧ ☽ Chapter 1: The Bruises ☽✧

The first time is the day after Din and Cobb saved you from the slaver in the market of Mos Pelgo. The Marshal had already noticed the bruises left on your upper arm by the mean grip of your captor’s hand. He too was a slave once, and he knows. Worse than the pain, is the actual humiliation of seeing on one’s own body the bruises and cuts inflicted by a tormentor. In the afternoon, he comes home with some sort of ointment he bought off of an old lady that is kind of a healer. He offers to apply it for you. The swelling wraps all around your arm, making it difficult for you to reach on your own. You agree.

He’s quick and focused on the task, and you guess it’s not the first time he has to do something like this. His gentleness is almost startling, such a contrast with the faceless authoritarian figure he was just the day before, when you first encountered him. When he’s done, you can already feel the balm starting to soothe the pain. Although you’re not so sure whether it’s thanks to the actual ointment or the calming warmth of his hands against your abused flesh.

He wants to give you the small bottle containing the medication, but you explain you don’t have any credit to pay him back, cheeks hot with shame. His smile is bright and honest, and he assures you you don’t owe him anything. You thank him in a whisper. And you thank the Maker as well for sending him on your path.

✧ ☽ Chapter 2: The Cantina ☽✧

The second time happened during a weekday night. The bartender of the local cantina had an errand to run and asked you to replace him. Him being a dear friend of Cobb, you have accepted. Being a barmaid is one of the many previous jobs you have already done, and it is actually a nice distraction. It also is a nice way to earn some credits, let’s be honest.

As the evening unrolls pretty peacefully, a group of very loud male Devaronians enter the cantina, and you can smell trouble as soon they step a foot inside. You’ve already seen them around town for the past couple days, they seem to be resting here for a while before travelling further into the desert. Although their stay is temporary, they’ve managed to make themselves known to the local population as pretty annoying, searching to start a scrap more often than not.

They settle at the bar, ordering a round of spotchka, before one of them starts speaking about you like you weren’t there. “Hey what a pretty human we have here… I’ve heard humans are all soft and light, ‘wonder what they could taste like!” He follows the declaration by an obscene sound of mouth and an exaggerated lick of his giant tongue on his lips. His friends let out silly sneers at the dirty joke. You roll your eyes, when another expands: “Ugh, I don’t think it’s a good idea to eat humans, you know, I’ve heard they’re all bones and no meat.” “No, not like this Kard’ye, Kriff, you’re so stupid.” The whole group laughs loudly, while the aforementioned Kard’ye struggles to understand the innuendo of his camrade. You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or a natural lack of intelligence, but they indeed all look pretty dumb.

Lucky for you, they let you out of their next conversations, and you tend to the rare other clients, praying for the Devaronians to leave soon. The night goes on, and you’re preparing to close the bar. All the patrons quickly leave, except for the bunch of Devaronians, of course. Just before you can tell them to go somewhere else, they order a whole round of the strongest - and most expensive - alcohol you have. You consider refusing, but you don’t want to be the one explaining to your employer why you let so many credits go away.

“This is your very last round, ok?” you finally say, not even trying to hide the exasperation in your voice.

As you’re serving them, you have a short moment of absence and the heavy bottle of alcohol escapes your hands. You try to catch it back with a gasp, but the brown thick drink ends up all over the counter and on the jacket of one of the Devaronians. “I’m so sorry! Let me cl…” you don’t have the time to end your apology that the thug grabs your faulty arm and pulls it toward him, your ribs hitting violently the countertop in the movement. You freeze, the memory of a similar situation suddenly invading your mind. The cruel hand of your captor. The burning sand beneath your feet. The feeling of despair. It’s all back at the front of your mind. The world is shutting down around you, it’s like you’re floating and being stuck at the same time.

“You stupid human, look at the mess you’ve made! You need a correction, maybe Kard’ye is right, I should actually take a bite, just to try…” the creature growls with a vicious smile, revealing two sets of sharp teeth. He tugs your hand closer, like he’s really gonna bite your fingers off. You can feel his lukewarm and disgusting breath on your skin but you’re incapable to move, completely frozen.

“Actually you shouldn’t” the familiar filtered voice takes you out of your paralysis. There is the sound of a blaster getting armed. “Or you won’t have any teeth left.” Din adds while pressing his blaster’s barrel up against the jaw of your aggressor.

There is a little bit of mayhem as the group of Devaronians pull out their own weapons, stepping back and shouting in surprise. Your attacker lets go of your arm, and turns slowly to face the Mandalorian. The threat of a fight is floating in the air as the orange-skinned alien is deciding whether to take offense or not.

His smile gets bigger and he raises both his hands in a mockery of surrender. “A Mandalorian, what a surprise! Are you a Marshal as well? Or maybe you just happen to share the same closet...” his drunk friends giggle at the implication.

“I’m no Marshal. And I make my own justice. Wanna try it?” He says, his blaster sinking a little deeper into the creature’s cheek. His voice is so steady and emotionless it’s borderline scary. “And if you think you’re insulting me by implying the actual Marshal of this town, the most brave man that I know, is my partner, then you’re even stupider than what I thought.”

The tension is thick as the smile on the Devaronian’s face disappears. He snorts loudly and spits on the floor, in a pathetic attempt to regain some stature.

“Well guys, let’s go out of this rat hole, the spotchka wasn’t even good anyway.” he says aloud for the whole group to hear. His companions grumble last threats while leaving the place.

Mando’s blaster is still aiming at their back as they walk out of the cantina, and as soon as the last one of them is in the street, he walks behind the counter and seals the door behind them with the push of a button. You watch him act, but you’re still stuck in the same position, your mind blank.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” you can hear the worry in his voice this time. You want to answer but you can’t, you open your mouth but you’re unable to produce a sound. You’re slowly coming back to your senses, tears of fear prickling in your eyes after the fact, like your emotions are just now catching up with what happened.

You’re desperately looking at Mando’s visor, searching for something, anything that would help you ease the wave of terror that’s preventing you from speaking. “Hey, you’re safe now, I’m here, they’re gone” he whispers, closing prudently the distance between you two, before pulling you gently in his embrace.

You wince when your injured ribs bump into the beskar of his breastplate, but at least the physical pain helps you get back to the here and now. He lets go immediately, startled, taking a step back.

“I… I’m gonna be fine.” you finally find the strength to speak to reassure him. “You’re a strong one, I’m sure you will.” There is no irony in his voice. His visor tips slightly down, toward your ribs. “Let’s go home and have Cobb take a look at this, okay?” You nod in agreement.

“I’ll come back and clean this mess.” he adds finally, while looking at the drink spilled all over the counter. Then his voice gets lower, laced with threat “And after that, I think I also have a few things to clean with some Devaronians.”

✧ ☽ Chapter 3: The Language ☽✧

The third time is all about a misunderstanding.

You go on your day, out in the streets of Mos Pelgo to buy some food. You still avoid the marketplace since it has a few brutal memories attached to it that are still too fresh, but it’s okay because you usually find what you want in the small shop next to the cantina.

As you make your way out, arms full of supplies, you miss a step and accidentally bump into a Tusken. Your groceries fell on the ground as you try to catch your footing, and you apologize while picking everything up, too embarrassed to look up at the stranger you just pushed. But the language barrier is not working in your favor, and the Tusken is quite upset. You know their tribe is not always welcome in town and the tensions were already pretty high long before you arrived.

You try desperately to remember the few gestures Din taught you, but you’re panicking and afraid to sign something wrong, making the situation even worse. The angry grunts of the Tusken are not stopping, and you try to apologize again, but to no avail. The loud quarrel doesn’t go unnoticed. More and more bystanders are stopping to look at the scene, and soon, there are quite a handful of villagers and Tusken around you both. Some of them start to take sides, humans insulting the Tusken, and Tuskens raising threatening fists at the town inhabitants.

It’s all going down pretty quickly, until you catch the shining glimpse of a beskar armor, and the rumble of a deep modulated voice. Mando parts the crowd, plants himself in front of the Tusken and signs in annoyed short gestures. He seems tired of this. Playing the peace keeper and the translator for two opposing sides was an honorable mission at first, but it begins to be more troublesome and repetitive those days. You can’t really blame Mando, when the townsfolk are not making the slightest efforts to include the Tusken tribe - and the desert warriors are not really helpful either. Nonetheless, you watch as Din tries his best to avoid a fight and calm the tensions. After a few back and forth, the offended Tusken finally shakes his head, weary, and signals to his group it’s time to leave. You’re relieved, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

The crowd is dispersed, and Din helps you pick up the last of the food supply still on the ground. After a while, Mando finally breaks the silence between you.

“I’m sorry.

He answers your surprised look with a heavy sigh.

“Sorry you had to end up in the middle of this nonsense while you had nothing to do with it in the first place.”

“I am sorry too, I mean, I failed you. You taught me how to sign their language and I couldn’t even remember how to say sorry. I’m a bad student... Or maybe you’re a bad teacher?” you let out a half-hearted giggle, in an attempt to lighten the mood. Din’s visor drops slightly and you swear you've heard a chuckle.

At least you still remember how to make him smile.

✧ ☽ Chapter 4: The Scar ☽✧

The fourth time is a night when the pain in your back wakes you up.

Again.

You know you need to find a competent medical droid to fix what has become a chronic pain, but it’s easier said than done when you live in a small town lost in the desert on Tatooine. You turn in your bed, trying to find a more comfortable position, but after a few minutes of unsuccessful attempts you give up. With an exasperated sigh, you get up. The call from the painkillers still stored in your roommate's bedroom and the promise of an oblivious sleep is too strong. With some luck, you might even be able to sneak under Cobb’s blanket (you know he sleeps alone tonight) and cuddle against his warm chest without waking him up.

With silent steps, you sneak into his room, and quickly find what you’re looking for. It would be way convenient to have the medication stored elsewhere, but you suspect he deliberately keeps it there, so he can keep a tab of your consumption. Was he afraid of you getting addicted to the drug? And wasn’t he right to be so?

A voice interrupts your train of thoughts before you can step outside of the room.

“Leave the pills. And come here.”

You feel like a kid caught with their hands in the sweet-sand cookie jar.

“Please, sweetheart. Don’t make me get up.” you guess a smile behind the voice hoarse with sleep.

But you’re annoyed, your back hurts and he has no rights giving you order, he’s definitely not your dad or anything.

“I’m hurting, Cobb, and I can’t sleep, let me have that.” your answer is more curt than you want to.

“I’ll rub your back.” he offers. “Come here”.

He’s being really patient with you, and it’s even more annoying because now you can’t say no.

You lay on your stomach next to him and he straddles you, one leg on each side of your body, resting ever so lightly on your hips. He asks if you’d prefer to remove your top, and you fumble to push it over your head. Big hands are splayed on your back and you suddenly feel so small under the giant Marshal. It’s like he could cover your entire back with just his two palms. He gently massages your shoulders before going lower, working the knots out of your contracted muscles. The slightly callused skin of his hands feels like heaven against yours. Until he touches your spine and pain courses through your nerves like a lightning bolt. You jerk and let out a repressed whimper.

“Sorry, dear.” he whispers, worried. “should I stop?”

“Don’t you dare.”

He starts again, careful, and despite some occasional - but weaker and weaker - surges of pain, you feel your entire body relax, and your eyelids getting heavier. The grounding feeling of Cobb’s body pressing against yours, the repetitive rhythm of his massage, the soft pillow under your cheek that smells like him: it doesn’t take long for your breath to get steadier as you slowly fall asleep. Before you’re totally gone, you feel Cobb’s lips leaving a gentle kiss on the scar on your back - the one you’re glad you kept as proof of the battles you’ve won.

✧ ☽ Chapter 5: The Desert ☽✧

The fifth time involves the desert and a storm.

In retrospect you really wonder what was going through your mind when you thought this was a good idea. Leaving the safety of the town to go out in the desert.

Alone.

Just a couple hours before a sandstorm - a storm you knew where coming.

But after another sleepless night due to the pain, and somewhat of a fight with Din (for stupid reasons you can barely remember now), you were more than upset. On edge, even. And a quick trip out in the open would clear your mind, you thought. You would totally have time to come back before the announced sandstorm.

Yeah sure .

Except you hadn’t planned for the nav computer of the speeder bike you stole in Cobb’s frontyard to break.

In the middle of nowhere.

Just dunes, and dunes, and more kriffing dunes all over.

The sky was cloudy, announcing the storm, so there was no way you could use the position of the two suns to help you figure out in which direction the town was. You tried to reboot the thing, even to disassemble it. Your attempts were useless. Fixing this computer was beyond your abilities.

And here you were, sitting on a speeder bike with no idea where to go. Which would be scary enough. If a sandstorm wasn’t coming.

You’re used to joke about your poor sense of direction, but right now you’re just angry at your inaptitude and your carelessness. There is very little you can do. As far as you see, there is just sand. Not even an isolated farm, or some sort of rocky valley where you could hide. Nothing, but sand. On your right, you can see the horizon slowly darkening, the sandstorm inexorably moving towards you.

So this is how I die , you think, on my own, in the desert of some forsaken planet, because of a kriffing nav computer. I’ve survived some of the worst things this galaxy can throw at you, and THIS is it?

You don’t know if you want to laugh or scream or cry, so you just walk around the speeder bike for a few minutes to try and calm yourself before sitting down in the sand, your back against the useless vehicle. Your only chance of survival would be someone travelling through the area. But with the storm, any reasonable beings - that excludes you - would stay in their village and not go out. Cobb is probably too busy preparing the town for the tempest to notice your absence. And Din, well, with your little quarrel, he surely isn’t gonna come check on you, not realizing you were gone either. Even if they eventually notice it, it’s probably too late.

You let your head fall back against the cold metal of the bike. The wind is getting clearly stronger by the minute, already picking up some dust. Soon it will become hard to keep your eyes open. Even hard to breathe. You pull your scarf up on your mouth and nose. Silent tears briefly roll on your cheeks before getting trapped by the fabric. The last hope you had to cross someone’s path was dwindling with every second. You look at the sky, swirls of brown dust staining the clear grey canvas above you. And then you notice a star, it’s weak at first, but it shines brighter and brighter. A deep tone, something too loud to be the sound of the wind, intensifies with it.

It’s coming towards you real quick and it’s not a star. It’s the flames of a jetpack. And attached to said jetpack is the Mandalorian. You get on your feet, your heart racing, and for a moment you wonder if you’re hallucinating. But he lands gracefully on the dune’s crest, muscular figure all clad in beskar, impressive as always. You run in his embrace, the earlier fight forgotten.

You want to explain, to apologize, to thank him, but there’s no time to lose.

“You need to keep this scarf on your face, to grab me and to hang on strong. Don’t let go whatever happens, got it?” You nod, tears of relief clouding your vision. “It may be a bumpy ride.”

He takes you into his arms, clutching you against him with all his strength and you’re both going up in the sky. His jetpack is at full power, trying to outrun the sandstorm. You can feel him straining against the wind, trying to protect you as best as he can from the flying grains of sand scraping your exposed skin. Unlike him, you’re not wearing any gloves or helmet, there’s no beskar between you and the world.

Through squinting eyes, you can finally see Mos Pelgo in the distance, and as you approach the town, you’re joined by another jetpack wearer. You recognize the red and green of Cobb’s armor. They were both looking for you.

It’s a matter of minutes, seconds almost, but you all reach the safety of Cobb’s home before the sandstorm fully hits the streets of Mos Pelgo. The door is closed in a hurry, all three of you tumbling in the small hall. The Mandalorian finally let you go, and you can feel his arms slightly shaking, muscles spasming after the long and grueling effort. The heavy jetpack is discarded on the ground with little care. His chest is rising quickly, his ragged breath creating weird sounds through the modulator of his helmet, a hand on the wall for support.

You don’t really know what to say and you stand in the hallway, trying to catch your breath as well. You can hear Cobb fumbling to remove his armor and helmet, and as soon as he’s free, he hugs you, whispering reassuring words, although you’re not sure if he’s speaking to you or to himself. And when he lets go of his embrace, he turns to Din and hugs him as well, slightly lowering his head down and placing his forehead on his helmet, a sign you know of affection and love.

“Let’s get you out of your armor, cyar'ika” Cobb’s husky voice is warm but your heart stings at the word. It’s Mando’a and while you don’t know the exact translation, you’re sure it carries a lot of meaning with it. It dawns on you at that moment, your foolishness may have caused one of them to be injured or worse .

You try to hide your self-loathing behind a blank face, and you start helping Cobb. You work in silence, removing every piece of beskar armor from The Mandalorian’s body. When you’re done, Din heads toward the refresher without a word. You want to cry, he’s obviously mad at you - if it isn’t for the trivial fight from earlier in the day, it’s obviously because you almost killed yourself and put his and Cobb’s lives at risk. You can’t hide your feelings anymore. An overwhelming wave of raw emotions hits you and you rush to your bedroom. Outside, the weather matches the storm inside your head.

A deep soothing voice shakes you out of your thoughts. You can’t really say how long you’ve stayed huddled on your bed. Maybe minutes, maybe hours.

“Hey, you know he’s not mad at you, right?”

Cobb is leaning against the doorframe of your room. He knows when to leave you space, but also when to check on you. You raise red eyes and a runny nose toward him.

“Actually I think he’s mad at himself.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s mad because he upset you and you left, because you got lost and he almost failed to protect you.” He pauses, crosses his arms on his chest. “Actually I’m also mad at myself, for not fixing that damn speeder bike earlier.”

You gasp, you’ve almost forgotten that part. The stolen bike is likely buried in sand as you speak. And if it’s still in one piece at the end of the storm, it should not take long before some jawas find it.

“I’m so sorry about that, Cobb, I… I’ll pay you back, I promise.”

“It’s ok, it was a rusty scrap of metal anyway.”

Cobb lets out a chuckle, mischief back in his eyes.

“Although I may have to arrest you, you know, since I’m a Marshal and you’re a thief. Let me find my handcuffs!” he concludes with a wink, and you can’t help but smile at how corny he sometimes is.

“Now let’s see Din, he needs us I think.”

He grabs your hand to help you get up, and leads you to his room. The storm is still raging outside, and it’s dark, probably early in the night. He knocks on the door, opens it slowly, and in the very dim ray of light that flows into the room, you can guess Din’s back and a glimpse of his soft brown hair. He’s sitting on the bed, facing the opposite wall. Cobb shuts the door behind you both, casting the room into darkness.

“I’m sorry…”

“Please forgive me…”

Din and you both start speaking at the same time. There is a second of silence, before he resumes.

“No need to apologize. I’m just glad you’re here and safe now.”

His voice is unusually soft, a little less deep than through the modulator, more vulnerable, more human . It’s always a bit weird to hear his real voice, but at the same time you’re grateful to be able to hear it in the first place.

You climb on the bed, and you carefully reach for him, hugging him from behind. He grabs your hands and brings them to his lips, leaving kisses on your scuffed knuckles. You melt into his touch, and you both stay silent, but there is no discomfort between you. The sound of the wind outside is strangely comforting, some sort of a peculiar lullaby. The whole pressure of the day is finally released, and the only thing left is your gratitude and love for the two warriors in your life.

✧ ☽ Chapter 6: The Chiss ☽✧

And then there is the time when you can save yourself.

As the weeks pass by, you spend your days taking care of Cobb’s home, or working odd jobs here and there in Mos Pelgo, helping townsfolk with their businesses, trying to make some credits. You don’t really have a plan for your professional future right now. But regarding your freetime, you do have a plan. You’ve asked Din to train you in close combat. At first, he was reluctant, but you convinced him it was about guaranteeing your own safety and not becoming a bounty hunter or some sort of hitman like him.

His lessons were not the easiest to follow. He was patient, but he treated you with no special privileges, barely restraining his force when throwing you on the ground if you failed to escape his attack. He saw no point in playing soft or fair since a real-life aggressor would not be. You learned how to dodge and duck, how to aim for the weakest points of your opponent, and how to use your speed and lightness as a strength against what would likely be a bigger and stronger enemy. It was not about defeating an attacker. The spirit of the lessons were more about how to escape, run and hide efficiently.

You dreaded his lessons as much as you waited impatiently for them. You were pretty sure Din voluntarily over-played his toughness for the first couples of training sessions in order to test your will to really learn those techniques. But you could almost hear the proudness in his voice after each particularly grueling practice. Of course, your body was not spared, and more often than not you ended up with bruises and scratches in unexpected places. You had to reassure him quite a handful of times you were okay with this, because his guilt and fear of really hurting you was ever so present. He always took a moment after your lessons to take care of you, applying soothing balm over your bruises or bacta on your cuts, and those rare instances made you feel like you virtually were his equal, a warrior as well, not afraid of getting hurt in a fight. Of course Cobb always looked at the both of you with concern and suspicion, because he knew too well he was the one who would end up going shopping for medication and handling your healing process in the long run.

But Cobb was also an integral part of your plan. You couldn’t live with one of the best gunslingers in the area and not ask him to teach you how to use a blaster. The lessons were definitely easier to follow, and way less demanding. Cobb was a fun teacher, and while he was serious when sharing his knowledge, he made sure your training stayed enjoyable. Cracking jokes and delivering corny punchlines, calling you all sorts of outdated cute nicknames and cheering on you when you would finally shoot in the middle of the makeshift target of the day. Besides teaching you how to aim, he also showed you how to pull your gun faster than an adversary, the key to winning any fight according to him. When he was too tired after a long day of work to take you out, he would stay home and show you basic blaster maintenance. You would watch, mesmerized as he methodically disassembled his own gun before cleaning it, and re-assembling it with a speed you would not believe possible. Din would usually scoff at his little manly and self-indulgent demonstration, but you bet he was also impressed because you could clearly see the way his visor kept focusing on Cobb’s large and skillful hands. With their guidance, it took only a handful of weeks for you to feel more confident about your chances of survival in a fight.

While you suspected Din and Cobb both knew what motivated you to ask for their training, they never pushed you for any answers. It was about claiming your independence back, claiming your body back, and also a little bit about being prepared in the eventuality you’ll cross paths again with a certain Chiss slaver.

And then, one day, this eventuality becomes reality.

Din, Cobb and you, as well as a couple of other villagers have made the trip to Mos Eisley for a few days, in order to gather needed rare supplies, from mechanical parts to special medicine or new droids.

It’s your first day in the big town when you catch a glimpse of him, in the market. A flash of bright-blue in your peripheral vision. At first, you dismiss the alarm signal your brain sends you. It’s not because the alien is a Chiss, that it was this Chiss. But when he turns his face ever so slightly, you recognize him with no room for doubt. You try to stay calm and act like it’s nothing even though your mind is on a code-red alert.

You spend the rest of the day on edge, and you’re pretty sure Din and Cobb have noticed. As you all three settle in the small room you’re renting for the time of your stay, your suspicion is confirmed when Mando finally let out the question that was on his mind all day long.

“About who we saw in the market today, what do you want us to do about it?”

The tone is severe, no emotion in it, like a soldier ready to take any order. You left a moment of silence.

“I want to handle this myself.” you answer with a surprisingly determined voice.

Cobb’s brows furrow, he runs a hand on his face, and lets himself fall on one of the small beds. He lets out a sigh before adding an ominous “That’s what I feared.”.

You cut short to the discussion, because even if a Marshal and a Mandalorian want to discourage you to go on with this idea for your own safety, you’re still your own person. It’s your choice to make. They don’t push it, and you go to sleep with a very clear objective in your mind.

The next day, you see him again. He’s still in the marketplace and he’s accompanied by a couple of twi’leks in chains he seems to be trying to sell. It’s easy to forget what’s going on outside of the safe haven of Mos Pelgo, but here in Mos Eisley slavery is still a thing and the Republic isn’t in any rush to make it stop. It disgusts you, and your resolution only strengthens. You don’t have any specific plan about how you want to do it but everything falls into place when you spot him in a Cantina later that day.

The suns are already setting when your little group decides to go grab a drink. The Cantina is crowded with travelers and local inhabitants, but the tall Chiss is hard to miss. Of course, you two bodyguards have noticed him as well. As the night goes on, your eyes never cease to dart out of your booth and you have trouble focusing on what your lovers are discussing. Cobb is sipping on his third beer, relaxed. Din is playfully grazing his hand on Cobb’s knees while speaking, getting drunk in his own way. You, you barely touch your drink, too focused on your target.

Then everything happens really fast. You see the Chiss getting up from his stool and leaving, but Cobb and Din are now sitting at the very back of your booth and can’t see what’s happening. You smile at them and say you just need to use the bathroom before slowly walking out of their visual field with a calculated casualness. As soon as you reach the other side of the cantina, you slip out of the place amongst a few other clients. The night is clear, and the freshness of the air is welcome after the moist and warm atmosphere of the cantina. Your heart beats so fast in your chest it’s the only thing you can hear. Adrenaline is flowing through your veins like the most powerful drug in the galaxy, and you feel invincible.

The Chiss is walking further in the main street, and you start following him, your hand resting on the blaster on your hip, hidden under your long jacket. He’s alone, and as you silently creep behind him while he turns into smaller and smaller streets, there is no one left around you.

Suddenly, he stops in the middle of the alley. Without even turning back, he starts speaking.

“How long are you gonna follow me like this? You missed me?” you can hear the smirk in his voice. You’re a bit taken aback.

“You know who I am?”

He finally turns to face you.

“I had a doubt when I saw you earlier but then, I recognized the Mandalorian sitting at the cantina. Quite hard to hide such shiny armor.” he seems very amused by the situation. “I hope you had fun removing that chip, can’t wait to put a new one in your brain. And maybe I should have you branded. So no one will steal my property this time. I have to warn you though, it might be a bit painful.” He’s obviously getting high on his own cruelty.

“Stop it.” you growl through gritted teeth, barely recognizing your own voice.

But he goes on.

“Don’t worry, my crew will also take care of your two boyfriends. I’m sure they will greatly enjoy the little noises you’ll make when I’ll carve my mark into your skin in front of them, and then...”

“I said stop it .”

If there was any doubt left in you before this encounter, now it is clearer than ever: you need to end this. You need to end him .

Your hand reaches for your blaster but he’s quicker and he’s on you before you can do anything. He runs into you with all his strength, his right shoulder in your ribs, and you both fall on the ground. Your blood is already so full of adrenaline, the usual flashbacks don’t even have the chance to cloud your mind. The pain in your chest doesn’t register either. Your body reacts almost on its own, the long hours training with Din have you move on instinct. Your fist flies up into his nose which breaks into an awful noise, then to his eyes, while you try to kick him in the guts with your knee. He’s taken by surprise but not ressourceless and he has the time to hit your cheek before you manage to crawl from under him. He lets out a grunt of pain and tries to get back up on his feet, but it’s too late. The red lasers of the blaster blinds you. You fire once, twice, more times than you care to count. The Chiss in front of you falls flat on his face, finally silent.

You’re panting, on your knees, a steaming blaster in your hands. The cold air of the night useless to soothe your thrumming body, skin hot like flames were lapping at you, head spinning. The hurried footsteps suddenly stopping behind you take you out of your frenzy.

“Told you.” Cobb says with a shove into Mando’s side, before prudently crouching beside you, gently taking the blaster out of your hands.

“I’ve got you sweetheart.” he whispers softly while he helps you get fully up. “Are you hurt?” You shake your head, still high on adrenaline, not feeling the swelling of your cheek, your scratched palms and what is probably a cracked rib. Cobb is not convinced.

“Well, I doubt that, but we need to go now. Don’t want anyone to find us near this corpse.”

“No, wait!” you clear your throat and lower your voice “We need to take his access cylinder, and check out his ship, make sure there’s no one left chained in there.”

“Then we move now.” Din speaks at last, tone flat, and it’s hard for you to tell what he thinks of this whole mess. He sees you have a moment of hesitation, not really in a rush to search a dead body, and he spares you the gritty work, turning the corpse on his back and rummaging in the pockets and satchels of the dead Chiss to find what you’ll need.

You all leave the crime scene silently, running straight to the spaceport to find his ship. It’s empty, except for quite a few credits Din is happy to steal. The way back to your inn seems incredibly long, but you need the lengthy walk in the fresh air to let the pressure go down. You can hear Din and Cobb talk to each other behind you with low and concerned voices, but you don’t really care. Their conversation doesn’t last though, they catch up with your pace, and The Marshal slips a protective arm around your shoulder, which stays here for the rest of the way.

When you finally reach your room, dawn is only a couple of hours away, and exhaustion is hitting you like a wall. You crash on your bed, barely taking the time to kick off your shoes before rolling on your back and passing out, not even bothering to slip under the sheets.

The two suns are already pretty high in the sky when you wake up the next day. Most of your clothes are folded on the foot of your bed and there is a blanket drawn onto you. You guess Din and Cobb couldn’t let you sleep in your leather jacket and dusty cargo pants. Thinking of them , you don’t know where they are because the room is empty. You sit up, and you let out a groan of pain. Your ribs hurt like hell, your head aches from dehydration and overall you feel like you were hit by a running bantha. You manage to make it to the refresher, and you gulp long sips of water directly from the tap of the washbasin, consciously avoiding the reflection of your bruised cheek in the mirror. The water tastes like sand with an aftertaste of bleach but at least it’s potable - it is, right? You chose to believe it’s clean and settle under the thin water spray of the shower, trying to wash away the dirt of the past night.

With fresh clothes on and a clean face, you feel a little bit better, but there is still no trace of Mando and the Marshal. You don’t have to wonder where they are for very long though, because you soon hear their voices echoing in the hallway before the door slides open.

“Hello sunshine” Cobb’s grin could almost be enough to make you smile. “How are ya’ feeling? You must be hungry.” He gestures at Din and a little box full of steaming food is delivered on your knees.

“Thanks.”

The street food is not the most appetizing you ever saw, probably too greasy and too salty, but your belly rumbles in anticipation and you start eating without any further ado.

There is an awkward moment of silence between the three of you, no one really knows what to say regarding the fact you murdered someone for the first time of your life a few hours ago.

“He saw it coming and he deserved it.”

Din finally breaks the silence, voice steady through the modulator, and it’s like he’s reading your mind. Can Mandalorians even do that?

“You don’t have to feel guilty. Now the only thing that matters is you and your future.”

“And that broken rib we need to heal.” Cobb’s sounds amused “don’t try to fool me by saying you’re okay” he adds with a smirk, his own way of dealing with the situation.

You chuckle and you immediately regret it because it makes you wince.

“You got a point, Cobb.” you admit.

The couple next days are so uneventful, if it wasn’t for the pain still lingering in your chest, you could swear you dreamed what happened that egregious night. Nobody is really bothered by another random slaver missing after a party night at a cantina, especially not the local authorities. The streets are still full of busy travelers, the market full of loud merchants, the bars full of singing drunks. Mos Eisley is the same, even if you’re not anymore.

Nevertheless the trip back to Mos Pelgo still feels like relief.

You’re sitting between the Marshal and the Mandalorian in the transport, neatly tucked between a warm shoulder and cold beskar. Cobb’s fingers are absent-mindedly rubbing circles into your thigh, and you can hear the regular breathing of Din through his modulator. Combined with the soft buzzing of the ship, you feel like you could almost fall asleep.

You’re glad to be coming back to the small desert town. Glad to set foot on its dusty streets. Even glad to find again your tiny bedroom in Cobb’s house.

You realize the trip back to Mos Pelgo does not only feel like relief.

It feels like more than that.

It feels like finally coming home.

And no matter how many times the two warriors who crossed your path a few months ago had to save you, no matter how many more times they will have to, you now know you can also be your own savior.

You now know you can also be your own hope.

#Din Djarin/Reader #cobb vanth/din djarin #cobb vanth x reader #din djarin x reader #pedro pascal imagine #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #reader insert #din djarin x cobb vanth x reader #hurt and comfort #fluff #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #ptsd tw #cobb vanth

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a-magical-artist · 4 years

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Top Ten Favorite Doppels

Turned in less than five minutes before Halloween ends, but whatever:

10. Abigail

Hagumu is really just a scared kid despite being a Neo Magius stooge, and Abigail is a very good representation of that; Hagumu closes her eyes whenever she comes out, to which, same as Abigail is a very intimidating doppel filled with teeth and spikes. Her form’s listed as a “reversible shape” and she gives the impression of a torn up, straw-filled doll with a toothy mouth and spines/shards all throughout her inner lining. It’s also a good twist that since Hagumu’s magic makes her unusually strong against witches, Abigail is the opposite, being effective against magical girls.

I really love the exterior on this one, it looks very pretty and ornate, and it does a nice job contrasting with the messy, shard-filled fiber underneath.

9. Gothel

I’m very close to unlocking Gothel (all I need are materials for Magia leveling), but I already love her design. She takes Yozuru’s wish and magnifies/projects it as many witches (or doppels) do, in her case, trying to find someone or something that can make Yozuru feel the emotions she wished away. She takes the form of a tower (name being a great Rapunzel reference) with exposed ribs she uses to drag in and crush whatever she sees, which is...fairly impressive as a doppel design without being too gory (a reason why Beatrice and Therisia aren’t here or in this slot).

8. Clothette

I...really, really don’t like Suzune Magica, and I don’t like Suzune. I do however, have a grudging respect for her Doppel design. Clothette’s based around a gadfly, comes out of Suzune’s eye, has bells for eyes, and is constantly on fire. It’s a great design, but points off for coming from a character I can’t stand.

7. Gibdaughter

So, fun fact about hummingbirds for anyone who doesn’t know; they’re beautiful little birds...that have the worst tempers. I love them for that, and I’m happy to see one used as a base for a doppel design. Gibdaughter, as per usual, externalizes Kanae’s wish to be left in peace by using her very love of music. Her main attacks all revolve around the vibrations she gives off, adjusting them to resonate with her targets until they shatter. Given both the animal and the character of Kanae, this was an all too appropriate fit. The doppel’s mechanical appearance is pretty and both a nice reference to hummer feathers (they give off a metallic sheen when light hits them), and to Kanae’s aloof exterior.

6. Sylvie

Given how sweet and caring Ikumi is, this one was a surprise. Sylvie’s a very invasive doppel-moreso than Hevelius even-in that she’s not only formed from Ikumi’s lower half, but also seems to thread her way through her entire body given Ikumi’s eyes turn into glowing, barbed anchors. Definitely lines up with her nature, but...jesus. She gives the impression she’s based around one of those cymbal monkey toys, which is already creepy enough, but Sylvie’s “head” is just Ikumi, and also the gigantic screw jutting out of her upper back. The accordion midsection does not help in any of this and makes Sylvie’s movements look off, even for a doppel. Good but horrifying design, though the glowing eye anchors are a little over the top for me.

5. Hund Balou

Hund Balou is one of the rare genuinely disturbing doppels; Hanna was already very close to being her by externalizing her curse on the world and those around her, so there’s not much for Hund to do except just. be destructive. Her form is creepy, her description’s creepy, everything about Hund is really screwed up. And Hanna, being spiteful, vindictive Hanna, loves her and thankfully, never got the opportunity to use her for some pretty obvious reasons. Hanna’s relationship with Hund is similar to Alina’s with Old Dorothy-both are in sync with their doppels and have the same goal, which is...horrifying given both characters. Hund is really cluttered and witch-like in appearance, being covered in leashes, chains, and buttons with a splattered green/purple/blue dress topping it all off. Her mixed media feel is pronounced, which is a good indication of how close Hanna is to her, and how messed up her implications really are.

4. Ein Roter Drache

This is the stupidest, and yet most awesome doppel I have ever seen; it’s a dragon that makes its entrance by riding on its hoard of treasure and smacks its targets with its tail. The tiny crown is a really funny touch for it and I will forever be sad that I can’t get Elisa outside of a support as of NA’s shutdown

Also love how it’s just Elisa’s bottom half to give the illusion she’s riding the doppel-that’s awesome and I love the creativity going into it

3. Oaji

*Insert the “What are you doing in my swamp” mere here*

Oaji takes the appearance of an entire swamp that lures people in, hinting at both the barrier of the witch and the witch herself possibly being similar to Zola, which is a cool concept. I love how simple she looks, and her coming out from behind Chiharu lines up with her misguided efforts to help her. She kind of gives off a similar vibe to Elsa Maria from the original series-even the branches bring the Sebastian familiars to mind. Also really love the lantern and the gray pool forming underneath Chiharu-the gold streaks just really top everything off here.

2. Marita

I love assassin bugs and so I love Marita. Instant number two for me

For real though, I didn’t expect these to be used as a doppel base, so I was very surprised when Sunao came out and her doppel had this as one. It looks appropriately creepy and very elegant, and I like the little necklaces hanging just below the head of the doppel. Marita also shares the needle/sewing aesthetic with Latria, and although there’s no blood, the giant one serving as a mouth is scary enough in implication. The crystal ball (that turns red during attacks) being the doppel’s abdomen’s also a nice touch.

Honorable Mentions:

Old Dorothy: Old Dorothy in-game is described as witch-like, and that’s because unless the viewer knows where her core body is, she just looks like an unrecognizable mass of puffballs and paper flowers dipped in orange paint. With witches, you can never really tell what it is you’re looking at, so Old Dorothy gives off that same impression. She didn’t officially make it because of her weird little core body, but I do love her gimmick.

Theresia: I do like Theresia, but I felt her design wouldn’t fit since I’m trying to avoid the more gory doppels. I do like how she’s literally just Sana’s ears, and how there’s two versions of her that have an equal chance of coming out (though this does present some complications when going competitive with Sana).

Poker Alice: Too much of what looks to be exposed muscle for me to feel comfortable putting her in, but I adore the skulls exploding outward behind the chair and the hands covering Yukika’s eyes. Speaking of, the eyes on this thing are both cool and nicely scary in contrast to the simplicity of the rocking chair.

Gosirsa: Colorful and very beautiful, the wheels at the front make for a surreal touch, something that many doppels tend to lack due to being scaled down versions of the full witch. Didn’t make it because there’s too few slots and too many doppels to choose from, but definitely in my personal faves.

1. Campanella

Campanella’s just the right amount of dumb, elegant, and unsettling, hence her being here at the number one spot. Yachiyo’s training event also helped me warm up to her; while Yu Hong and Cyan were self-defeating and frustrated respectively, Camp was really, really mellow by contrast. She seemed willing to work with Yachiyo as long as she accepted and stopped rejecting her, which was, at the time, a very nice change from the usual (not that Camp doesn’t try to take over however-once Yachiyo implies she’s going to keep running from her, she goes on the attack). She takes the form of a ticket puncher holding a lantern, comes out of Yachiyo’s leg, and gives the overall impression of a scorpion, ridiculously oversized shoes and all. Her anime appearances are a nice representation of Yachiyo’s fears and it’s just really satisfying to find out that they have enough of a relationship to where she can use her in fights. Doppels when it comes down to it are a sort of agreement/truce between the magical girl and their witch self; not only does it allow them to come back, it allows them to make peace with their insecurities and fears without the danger of turning into a witch. Campanella, both in-game and the anime, represents that relationship to its fullest, so she’s at the #1 spot.

#magia record #halloween special I guess #doppels

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itsallabigmess · 4 years

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Crescente | Part Six

A/N: This was going to be the last part but GUESS WHAT?!

Yes, I was rewriting this part, and I got to the 2.5K words mark and realized the real end was still a bit far away. Since I have been keeping my chapters not too long, I didn’t want the end to be this endless, tiring chapter.

So yeah, I split it and decided to add an extra part.

Sorry, I guess??? (but really not sorry. Also, for those wanting Jinyoung to make a move... oh boy, this part is for you)

Please leave your reactions, even if just in tags! I really appreciate them.

PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART

The storm still falls hard over the resort. Sitting by the back door, holding your legs, you watch as lightning clears the sky momentarily. In the darkness, the ocean sounds as agitated as your heart feels.

“Y/N, is everything okay?

You look over your shoulder at Jinyoung, standing in the middle of the stairs. It’s late at night, and you should be lost in deep sleep, just like he was a minute ago. But you could not stop thinking about the few moments when Jinyoung had you in his arms. Not even while dreaming you seemed capable to not wish for more of him.

“Yes,” you lied, smiling weakly. “Just couldn’t go back to sleep.”

Jinyoung stares at you for a moment, frowning, before you tell him to go back to bed. Somehow, you are not surprised when you feel disappointed once he turns around and climbs the stairs up. Just another strange sentiment on your list that would be better to leave unspoken.

This trip was making things to your emotions. Maybe you wouldn’t feel the same once you were back to your normal routine.

But then you hear steps, and coming down the stairs, you see Jinyoung carrying pillows and blankets.

He offers you a hand and helps you get up, and you watch as he spreads one of the blankets on the floor. He sits and places the pillows in between his back and the door, and pull you to sit in between his legs. Another blanket is laid over your stretched legs and Jinyoung’s arms envelop your middle, pulling you closer.

Inside, your heart starts to get unquiet.

“Lean back,” he says, and you let yourself fall slowly in his embrace, enjoying the warmth the perfect cradle of his arms provided. “Are you comfortable?” he asks silently.

You answer with a hum, letting your head fall back into the crook of his neck. You can’t understand what’s going on inside your head and heart. But for the night you decide to bury all the confusion deep down and enjoy whatever was happening between you and Jinyoung.

---

You shift in place, starting to wake after Jinyoung calls your name a second time. His arms tighten around your waist as you take a deep breath, and a kiss is laid on your temple. Slowly, you open your eyes and become aware of the half grey, half orange sky, the colors becoming brighter every time you blink.

“You said you wanted to watch the sunrise,” Jinyoung speaks just below your earlobe, his nose brushing against your neck.

It’s silent while you watch the sky goes through different shades of orange and yellow. Jinyoung's chest rise and fall against your back. You blame your drowsiness for not freaking out for having slept in his embrace. “I can’t believe we spent the night here,” you yawn, arching your back.

“You fell asleep so quickly…” he says with amusement, lowering his head. You feel his lips pressing against your shoulder, and before you can think of saying anything, he does it again, slowly kissing the way to your neck.

His hand spreads and curls again around your waist. The repeated movement makes your pajama blouse slide to the side, and you let out a muffled moan when his lips gently fall over your bare skin. You lean your neck and Jinyoung takes the silent invitation. He kisses your neck, sucking on the skin, tasting you.

It’s just been a minute, but your entire body has lightened up. You never found so hard to put words together, and right now you don’t think you can say anything to make him stop. Especially because you don’t want him too. When you finally speak, you sound breathless. “If you are gonna keep doing that, you need to shave.”

“So you don’t like it?” he teases, brushing his chin up and down your neck, the stubbles raising goosebumps on your skin that Jinyoung makes sure to lick off. You love it. And that’s the problem.

Your hand goes up, to the back of his hair, scraping his scalp, silently telling him ‘please, don’t stop’. His hand moves up your ribs, and you think how easy would it be for Jinyoung to unbutton your blouse and cup your breast.

But then you moan a bit too loud when he bares his teeth on your neck again, and Jinyoung slows down. He pulls your hand gently from his hair and places it over your stomach, lacing your fingers. A final tender kiss in dropped on your shoulder. Jinyoung rests his head against yours and, against your back, you can fell how radically his heart is beating.

Feeling your heat fade away, you turn your attention to the rising sun. The painted sky is free of clouds and the air feels hot, making it hard to believe a storm had taken place the night before.

“Do you want to go to bed? Sleep a bit more?” Jinyoung whispers.

You turn your head and time seems to stop. There you are again, just a breath away from a kiss. You stare at Jinyoung’s lips and he does the same, brushing his nose against yours. Now, he is the one asking you silently ‘May I? Do you want to?’

Every inch of your body screams yes. But the idea of wanting Jinyoung terrifies you. Even if he wants you back.

Cowardly, your turn your face away. Your eyes go back to the horizon, kicking away the blanket that somehow still covers your lower halves. You feel Jinyoung’s arms loosen around you and you hold him in place. “I need five more minutes.”

---

When you wake up again later in the morning, you find Jinyoung by the pool, a cup of coffee on his hand as he stares down at his iPad. His lips curl up when he notices you. “I thought it might take longer but I’m quite proud of you.”

“What?” you frown, yawning.

“You finally overslept. I mean, it’s only eleven but I guess that’s pretty late for your standards.”

You smile and stretch your arms over your head, whimpering a little when you hear your shoulder bones crackle.

“So, the sun is out, and once again is annoyingly hot,” Jinyoung snorts, getting up from his chair. “I guess a day by the sea in on the plans for today.”

“That is absolutely correct,” you nod emphatically. “I still want to paddleboard.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, at least not here.”

“Why not?”

“Ocean is still too agitated from the storm,” he says and you scowl at him, stealing the coffee cup from his hand and drinks what’s left. “But there’s a beach on the other side of the shore, it looks almost like a lake. No waves at all. We could rent a car and head there after eating something.”

“Can’t we eat on the way there?”

Jinyoung grins, placing a hand on your waist. You feel your entire body tense. “I’ll get ourselves a car. You go get ready.”

---

As expected, Jinyoung stayed under the rented sunshade while you took a quick lesson on how to paddleboard and then adventured yourself in the clear waters of the newfound beach. Jinyoung was right. It does look like a lake, waves so calm you can barely feel them.

Standing over the board you paddle for a few minutes, amazed by how you can see the bottom sand with so clarity. It was a nice contrast from the storm that still clouded your head.

It was nice that Jinyoung decided to stay on the sand. You needed some time alone to think. Even if that was exactly what you didn’t want to do. Jinyoung was acting as if nothing out of normal had happened. As if making out with his girl friend’s necks was something he was used to. You imagine him doing so with another woman and feel a pinch on jealousy.

Doing your best to not lose balance, you kneel first, then sit. You put the paddle to the side and let your upper body fall over the board, legs going inside the water. You close your eyes, sun shining brightly over you. That’s all you wanted for this trip. This moment right here. Minus the falling in love with your best friend.

Is that what is happening? Are you falling for him? You certainly feel something different. You don’t remember feeling your chest so heavy around him before. Around anyone. Just the thought of your early morning enough to drive you into self-combustion.

You spend almost an entire hour telling yourself you should not be nurturing any kind of romantic sentiment towards Jinyoung. And then you think about all the ways he has been managing to touch you. You remember his lips pressing against your skin. You feel the need to have a taste of him. And then you are gone.

Instead of Jinyoung, you find his book spread on the beach lounger. He appears a minute later, with colorful refreshments in his hands. You reach for the yellow cup. Passion fruit juice. Not a single drop of alcohol in it. You could use some alcohol now.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, why?”

Jinyoung shrugs, nodding towards the ocean. “You seemed a bit off out there.”

So he was watching you from the distance. You empty half of the cup in one sip. “Just too much sun in my head.”

Jinyoung goes quiet on your side and you don’t look at him to see if he believes you or not. You finish your drink and lay on the lounger, closing your eyes and trying to silence your mind. You were always so good at talking to each other about anything. Why is it so hard to confront this unsaid thing that is going on between you two?

Maybe you should just stay playing dumb. And keep busy. Occupy your mind and tire your body as much as you can so you can’t think about anything else. Or feel.

“I want to go out tonight,” you say, opening your eyes, staring up to the inside of the sunshade. “We have only been doing morning things, we should be doing nightly things too.”

“And do what, go to a party?”

You turn your face to the side and see Jinyoung getting up and taking off his shirt. Whatever you were about to say get lost halfway between your brain and your mouth. You stare at his bare torso, all the muscles he has been hiding exposed, and only an arm's length of distance. Thank God your brain has become pure goo, preventing you to go all handsy over him.

Although considering what happened in the morning, maybe you should. Just to be a little even.

“Eyes up here,” Jinyoug scoffs but when you finally look up, you notice he’s fighting a smile. When you bite your own lower lip, he shakes his head and looks away. “So, tonight. What do you want to do?”

You immediately shut down the obscene imagery that pops up in your mind. “I don’t know. But something that does not consist of only grabbing dinner or staying at the villa.”

Jinyoung shoulders go up and down and you follow the movement with your eyes, gazing once again at the muscles on his chest.

“Y/N, you are staring.”

“Only because your breast is bigger than mine.”

You look down at yourself, more to distract yourself from the perfect lines of his body and when you look up again, Jinyoung is staring directly at your breasts.

“Definitely not,” he says and you feel a wave of heat burning on your lower half. “I’m going for a swim. Wanna join me?”

You shake your head and forget to justify with words. The sigh Jinyoung lets out sounds like frustration but you only notice that when he’s already about to dive in. And after debating if you should go to him or stay put, you decide to just appreciate the view from afar, like the big scaredy-cat that you are.

#jinyoung #park jinyoung #got7 #jinyoung fluff #got7 jinyoung #friends to lovers au #kpop scenarios #got7 scenarios

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trashyswitch · 3 years

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Fluff Rarely Sleeps When There's Weight: Part 2

Logan decides to get himself something to eat, and winds up seeing a blanket on the couch. Not only does Logan learn of how fluffy and comfortable it is, but Logan learns that he's VERY sensitive to blanket fluff!

For @kanene-yaaay

So an update on life: I GOT HIRED FOR A JOB! I'm gonna be working in a retirement home! It's like a dream job for me! WOO HOO! But this means, my fanfic writing is going to lessen a little when I start working. I'm gonna be hit with 12 hour shifts, and a couple days as a sleep/spare time break in between. It's gonna be weird and hard to get used to, but I'm gonna try and get lots of writing in on my breaks to make up for it.

Logan was reading a book and determining some new activities to put into Thomas’s routine. He had heard the commotion upstairs, and giggled to himself at the silly tickle fight that had started up between Roman and Virgil. It’s rare to hear (let alone see) the two of them getting along. So hearing that happen, made a few ideas flow through his head.

A while later, Logan began to feel hungry. So he closed his books, headed downstairs and walked to the kitchen. There were many food items he could eat, but a specific list of foods came to his mind: studying foods.

Logan decided to make himself a peanut butter and Crofters sandwich. Peanut butter was supposed to help your brain study, and fruit has always been a brain food. And as everyone knows, Crofters is one of the healthiest fruit jams there is! And of course, whole grain bread is good for you in general. So: PB & J is the perfect lunch option for Logan.

Logan brought his food out to the living room and placed it onto the table. Sitting onto the couch, Logan sighed in content and grabbed and started eating his sandwich. Behind him, Logan felt a purple fluffy blanket that was folded up and sitting there against the back of the couch. “Hmm.” Logan hummed before returning to his sandwich. He managed to get halfway through the sandwich when the fluffy blanket fell down against his lower back. Logan turned to look at the blanket, and decided to return it to its rightful throne on the couch. With the blanket back on its special spot, Logan returned to his sandwich.

But the blanket didn’t stay there for long. Logan had a bit more of the sandwich down when the blanket fell. But this time, it landed right onto Logan’s shoulders. Logan blinked in confusion as his inner thoughts told him he wasn’t leaning against the couch. So...how did the blanket manage to plop itself onto his shoulders? Logan sighed and grabbed his napkin. While he wiped his hands off, he let the blanket fall against his lower back again and put it right back where he found it beforehand. Finally, Logan got up, picked up his plate and headed to the kitchen.

When the plate was washed and placed aside for washing later, Logan came back to the living room to see the purple blanket no longer on the couch, but laying right on the floor. Logan lifted an eyebrow in confusion. Does this blanket not like being propped up on the couch or something? Logan sighed as he sat down onto the couch, and chose to pick up the blanket and plop it beside him.

A few minutes later, Logan felt something against his leg. He looked over, and lifted an eyebrow: the corner of the blanket had jumped and was now sitting on his leg. How did that happen? Logan stood up, lifted up the blanket and stretched it out so he could see the whole thing. It couldn’t have moved. But, he could admit that it does look comfy. Logan decided to wrap it around himself.

The fur was so nice against his neck! And his arms! The fur felt nice on pretty much everything. So, Logan laid himself onto the couch and enjoyed the security hug that the blanket gave him. It felt so warm and cozy as well. He could easily assume this was Virgil’s blanket thanks to the color, but boy did Logan love it as well! A smile started showing up on his face as he processed the softness and comfort he got from the blanket.

The blanket seemed to be hugging him more, the longer he laid there on his belly. The bottom corners had soon found a way around Logan’s legs and were now hugging them. Logan didn’t think much of this though, due to his growing exhaustion from the blanket and his writing from earlier. Logan soon fell into a deep sleep for about 45 minutes. It felt nice and long though, like he wasn’t being cheated out of genuine sleep.

When Logan woke up, the blanket seemed to have tucked itself under his shirt. But Logan didn’t really realize this thanks to his dozy state. But things started to click into place when the blanket’s fluff started to move and lightly tickle his sides from under the shirt. Logan squeezed his eyes a little and moaned in slight irritation.

“Mmmm-wha?” Logan moved his hand to his belly and felt the bits of fuzz on his sides. Thinking it was nothing, Logan ignored it and closed his eyes.

But the fuzzy blanket decided to go full force, and rub its blanket corners against his sides. Logan’s eyes widened as his lips perked into a big smile. Logan quickly shoved his face into his pillow and started giggling while he struggled to get the blanket off his sides. The blanket started moving around a little, never giving Logan a chance to actually grab the corners.

To make things worse, the upper middle of the blanket had scooted itself up to his neck and started tickling there too! Logan squeaked and actually started laughing in a higher-pitched tone! He tried to scrunch up his shoulders, but that didn’t do jack for the back of his neck. The blanket quickly started to wrap itself around Logan’s neck, and torment the sides of his neck too. And on top of THAT, the upper corners of the blanket had moved itself up to his ears and started tickling there!

Then Logan made the big mistake of reaching behind his neck to grab the blanket…

Quickly, the blanket’s upper corners moved from his ears right to his armpits and scrubbed vigorously. Logan shrieked and clamped his arms right down to his sides as endless laughter came out. “HAHAHAHAHAHA! HOHOHOW IHIHIHIHIS THIHIHIS EHEHEVEHEN HAHAHAPPEHENIHIHIHING?!” Logan asked the air in pure confusion. The stimulation was just too much for him! The poor logical man couldn’t even think while he was worn down to nothing but a giggly puddle. “HOHOHOHOW AHAHARE YOHOHOHOU TIHIHIHICKLIHIHING MEHEHE RIHIHIHIGHT NOHOHOHOW?!” Logan asked the blanket.

Gosh...If even one person could see him like this, they would question his sanity. What kind of person yells questions to a BLANKET of all things?! Not a logical person, that’s for sure. Despite how weird the circumstances were, the blanket seemed to be enjoying itself! To further show its love, the blanket turned itself horizontally (in contrast to his vertical body) and hugged Logan right around his arms. His arms were now stuck against his chest and his lower shoulders to his upper legs were being covered in furry blanket softness. Though part of Logan’s brain was enjoying the feeling of being hugged, the other half of his brain was telling him ‘GET OUT! THE BLANKET’S GONNA TICKLE YOU AGAIN!’

In an attempt to earn his trust, the blanket didn’t tickle him again. It just hugged Logan comfortably. Logan’s rocking and attempts to get out, soon subsided as exhaustion and a surprising amount of trust started to take over. Logan looked at the blanket in confusion and decided to feel the fluff against his fingers. As he felt the fluff however, Logan started smiling and giggling as he learned something new about himself: his palms and his inner fingers were somewhat ticklish as well! Ticklish enough to make him giggle, no less.

When the blanket wanted to keep going, it started tickling Logan’s lower ribs. Logan guffawed in pure surprise and practically lost all his composure. Logan was kicking his feet, cackling, shaking his glasses off his head, and soon started pounding the couch! You would think that removing the corners of the blanket would help your situation. But Logan had found out earlier on that he CAN’T. The blanket was weakening him and would go for his armpits every time he tried. So, he eventually gave up and laughed all his frustrations out.

The blanket paused, and grabbed Logan’s glasses. Placing them onto the side table, the blanket continued its tickle attack on Logan with no worry of anything broken. Eager to tickle him a lot more, the blanket lifted up Logan’s shirt and shoved most of its blanket body through the bottom of the shirt and fed the corners out the shirt sleeves! Then, it started fluffing and wiggling itself to tickle him vigorously with the blanket fluff. Logan was wiggling and rocking all over the place, squealing and cackling hysterically, and was super overwhelmed by the tickles he was experiencing. It was just too much for the man! Logan was used to not being touched very much. So going from barely touched to tickle attacked all over, Logan grew overwhelmed rather quickly.

It didn’t help matters either that his serotonin levels were soaring. His brain was being fed so much happiness, that he was being put into dazes filled with all the giggle fits. It was such a strange and foreign feeling for him. He’s often warned Thomas of not doing drugs or drinking too much. But Logan was now learning of a new hormone-inducing drug mixture: dopamine and serotonin. The good news was, it doesn’t harm the body but rather helps the body. The bad news was: It was making his body feel weak and tired, while also fogging up his brain. He knew he would never be able to think straight no matter what. But this was ten times worse!

The blanket decided to give Logan another break and unravelled itself from Logan’s upper body. Logan giggled and wiggled around as it dislodged itself from under the shirt, but soon began calming down when it was out. The blanket wrapped itself around Logan’s legs and waist to hug him once again.

Logan didn’t know how he felt about being tickled so much. He loved it on one hand, but another part of him was telling him to get away from the blanket because it was tickling him too much. But the dopamine rush from the tickle attack felt amazing to him! It was like getting an overdose of happiness at disneyland. But...it was just tickling. How could tickling have such a big effect on him that he’s literally fighting with himself on whether he likes it or hates it?

Meanwhile, the blanket could sense his overthinking brain yet again. When will this man ever learn? The blanket decided to see if his legs or knees were ticklish as well. By doing this, the blanket travelled itself down to the bottom of his dress pants and slid each corner right in and up the pant sleeves. Finding the vulnerable knee pits, the blanket fluffed up its fluff a little more and started rubbing the corners against the knee pits.

“Uhuhuh ohohohohoh! HAHAHAhahahahaha! Cohohohome ohohohon blahahankehehehet! Knohohohock ihihihit ohohohoff!” Logan finally begged for the first time.

The blanket, enjoying the giggles, decided to rub just a little faster behind the knee pits. Logan’s laughter quickened quite a bit. “OhohoHOHOHO BOHOHOHOYHY! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Logan laughed more and more.

There was the happy sound! That kind of laughter gave the blanket extra fluffs of excitement! The blanket declared then and there, that Logan would be tickled for a little longer. But Logan didn’t know how he felt about its plans. Logan was kicking his feet, rolling all over the couch and laughing his heart out! And to make things better? Logan had started snorting! And everytime Logan would snort, he would cover up his mouth and muffle his own cackles! It was SUPER adorable!

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE! IHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHAN’T BREHEHEHEHEHEATHE!” Logan pleaded as tears of mirth started to well up in his eyes bit by bit.

The blanket was starting to realize that Logan was gonna need a break very soon. So, it tried one more spot: the back of his calves.

And HOLY CRAP! Logan threw his head back and SCREAMED like his body was on FIRE! His scream quickly turned into hysterical, almost insane kind of laughter! And just as quickly, the laughter went silent. That was when the blanket gave him a break. The blanket removed itself from his pant sleeves very gently and laid itself in a pile in front of Logan’s feet.

Logan took a while to calm down, and soon sat himself up. “You gonna make yourself known, Mr. Blanket?” Logan asked.

The blanket stayed still at first.

“Hello?” Logan asked, poking the blanket.

But the blanket refused to move.

Logan narrowed his eyes and picked up the blanket in curiosity.

But suddenly, the blanket wrapped itself around Logan’s shoulders again! Logan giggled and hugged the blanket back. “I knew you were just playing!” Logan reacted. “I’m Logan.” he greeted, holding out his hand.

The blanket shook his hand with a corner and wrapped itself around Logan’s head and shoulders. Logan giggled and snuggled himself into the blanket for a bit. “You’re very soft.” Logan admitted.

The blanket snuggled itself in more. Logan giggled at the snuggles he was getting, and smiled as he closed his eyes.

“I see you found my blanket.” someone said to him. Logan opened his eyes and smiled. It was Virgil. “Not a bad blanket, huh?” He asked.

Logan smiled. “Very cuddly.” Logan replied. “And playful.” Logan added.

Virgil’s smile widened. “His neck is really bad too.” Virgil let it know.

Logan’s eyes widened as he realized what Virgil just told the blanket. Logan quickly struggled to get the blanket off, but ultimately curled up and bursted out laughing. “Wahahait! VIHIHIHIRGAHAHAHAHAHA! YOHOHOHOHOU EHEHEHEVIHIHIL- HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Logan started kicking his feet and rolling around on the couch once again.

But for Virgil, this was the first tickle attack he’d seen. And BOY, was it MAGICAL! Logan was a laughing, blushing mess, which was usually a rare sight. The only person who’s been able to enjoy this new sight of Logan, was Patton and this blanket! And he could see why Patton wouldn’t stop talking about it: it was so fun to see!

“STAHAHAHAHAHAP! IHIHIHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLEHEHEHES TOHOHOHO MUHUHUHUHUCH!” Logan begged.

“Does it really tickle that badly?” Virgil asked.

“YEHEHEHEHES! IHIHIHIHIT REHEHEHEALLY TIHIHIHIHICKLEHEHES!” Logan replied.

“Do you want it to stop though?” Virgil asked.

“KIHIHIHIHINDAHAHAHA.” Logan replied.

Virgil smirked. “So...is that a yes? Or a no?” Virgil asked curiously.

Logan finally worked up the courage to shake his head no. Virgil smiled and watched the rest of the ticklish situation play out from just a few feet away. Since the man didn’t want him to stop the blanket, Virgil was gonna let the blanket tickle him for a while till either Logan would tap out, or the blanket would stop for him.

The blanket slithered itself around from Logan’s neck, to his back, to his sides and ribs again. The blanket did spend some extra time on his back though, because as it turns out: his back was a giggle spot! Logan was arching his back and giggling all cutesy and childish! It was so cute! Someone call Patton and let him know about this secret fact!

Virgil smirked as he looked over at the hiding spot behind the kitchen counter. There was a slightly visible glow of red coming from the side of the counter. Virgil knew exactly who that was: Roman.

Virgil was fully aware that it was really Roman controlling the blanket the entire time. How did he know? Well, apart from the time Roman blew his own cover when he used the blanket on me...the red glow also proved it. The color red, always matched up with the prince. Roman, amidst his blanket controlling, sent Virgil an ‘Okay’ sign for a few seconds before returning to his fun little activity.

The blanket eventually stopped for Logan and gave him a big hug. Logan was still a giggly mess from the tickle attack, but also felt heartwarmed to have yet ANOTHER hug from the loving blanket.

“Awwww! It looks like Mr. Blanket really likes you!” Virgil teased.

“Ihihihi...Ihihi doho tohohoho, blahahankehehet.” Logan replied, patting it nicely. The blanket snuggled into Logan a little more and started to calm down. With all that time spent tickling, the blanket seemed to be getting quite tired. Talk about irony! But Logan didn’t mind. As long as the blanket didn’t develop any more cravings for tickles during his nap, Logan was perfectly okay with the blanket hugging him.

The reality is, he really needed this. Logan probably needed this more than any of the sides did. So to finally get some love without having to gain the courage to ask for it? Literally the best thing anyone could ask for.

...It didn’t take long for Logan to start up another tickle fight…

Let it be known that Logan officially loves tickle fights!

#fluff #ticklefic #ler!roman #lee!logan #ler!blanket #adorable logan

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atopearth · 3 years

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Ar Tonelico: Melody of Elemia Part 1 - Aurica & Misha (Phase 1)

PHASE 1

Okay, I am beyond excited. I honestly never thought I'd be able to play my favourite PS2 games ever again after I moved houses, because I can't for the life of me find my old PS2 that could play copied games, all the wires and some of the games, and I can't buy these games anymore either, so I was literally so sad and nearly cried when I first realised this. But then I realised that we could get PS emulators now and play the games!! Honestly so thankful and happy right now because omg it's so beautiful to know I can finally properly finish these games again!! Anyway, I still remember Shurelia and Lyner very well, I loved how cool Shurelia was, whereas I can't remember much about Lyner so he's probably the average protagonist that gets all the girls lmao. I'm not sure if I'll bother playing each Reyvateil "route" but I do know who I picked as a kid so I'm definitely going to pick her again. It's kinda funny, I wonder if this is when my bro and I decided to each choose our favourites and play through them so we could both see the different stories haha. I just remember he liked the shy brown hair Reyvateil and I loved the blue hair childhood friend, I can't remember their names anymore but I still love them hahaha. And if I remember correctly, Shurelia should have a short story/route, but I remember diving into her cosmosphere was weird because she's kinda like the old type of Reyvateil haha, so I was sad about that but it doesn't matter, it's Shurelia, everyone loves her!

On to the story itself! Lyner is pretty childish but he's a typical teenager protagonist so I'll just ignore it lol. On another note, dang, the art and character design and everything still looks good to this day imo. It's sad that Shurelia and Ayatane had to stay behind to fend off viruses that I can't really kill off until Lyner goes and gets the Hymn Crystal Purger, but I guess they can't really allow these viruses to run around into town, so as long as they stay in the Tower where I assume Shurelia has tried to seal them for many years, it should hopefully be fine~ Poor Lyner got his airship broken the moment he left though, but I guess that's how journeys begin haha. Lmao at Aurica (that's the name of the brown hair girl!!) healing Lyner with her Reyvateil magic/song and then running off when he wakes up, she's so cute lol. Kinda sad to see Reyvateil treated so badly by organisations like Tenba, like wow, the abuse is rampant. The village is pretty unreasonable to make Lyner kill their monsters to get his airship back but I guess that's just how desperate they are? Still don't like them. LMAO when Lyner went to learn grathmelding, the grandpa joked around saying Lyner's reward for learning it was his granddaughter hahaha.

Well, I guess it's good to help the village, because now they're willing to take care of the broken airship until Lyner finds someone who can fix it. Anyway, did Jack like Misha or something? I can't remember🤔 Lmao, Jack is so slack to Aurica, like yeah she's gloomy but I can empathise with her😭 Okay, I gotta agree with Jack though, Claire is definitely much hotter than Aurica, just the fact that she runs a bar by herself and tries her best to be strong and independent already makes me like her lol. On the other hand, why is Misha with Tenba, was she being manipulated or controlled or something? Anyway, the moment I saw Misha, I fell in love with her again, like wow, her design is so beautiful and unique, I could never pick someone else over her. I feel so sorry for her that Lyner can't remember her though, because I'm pretty sure she really likes him🥺 I can't remember the story but I guess we'll know when we can dive into her. Lyner is rash, super reckless and honest to a fault, but that honesty is a good thing I guess haha. The fact that he can't take people in Tenba badmouthing Reyvateil like they're tools that can be scrapped when they don't seem to be crafting good magic would make anyone mad, but Lyner refuses to sit by and listen to that, which is pretty admirable of him tbh.

With the way people react to others going into the Dive shop in the middle of the day with a Reyvateil, you'd be thinking they were doing something R rated lol, but they're just getting to know each other so it's kinda weird to have that kind of stigma, I mean I'm pretty sure going at night is weirder?! Anyway, I have to agree with Misha, Firefly Alley is a scary place, just thinking about being near all those propellers and falling down is crazyyy. It's kinda funny, but I remember Spica (Misha's friend that sells good stuff) but I don't remember the chainsaw girl lmao, I feel like she looks familiar but that's all hahah. It's so hilarious but brave of Misha to tell Lyner to dive into her so they can craft magic to break the wall and leave to go to Nemo without Bourd and them on their tail. Considering how bold she is, it's crazy that it's her first time, but since diving is such a personal thing, I honestly doubt Misha would let anyone aside from Lyner dive into her. I gotta agree with Hama (Misha's cosmosphere mind guardian) slapping Lyner for saying he's only in there because Misha told him to dive in, like excuse you Lyner?! You do realise the one that's being invaded and the one that has to feel vulnerable and everything is Misha right?! Have some tact lol! But I guess Lyner is slow, so it was normal of him to not have realised that it was a bigger deal than he thought, especially since Misha seemed so nonchalant about it. Misha's Level 1 Cosmosphere is so nostalgic though, I remember it so well, because I think it was a really nice contrast to see the brave and cool Misha in real life compared to the vulnerable one in the cosmosphere who is scared of revealing her true self to Lyner. It was nice to see him encourage her and to tell her that he wants to know her better, I mean it's sad that he can't remember her but you can't help things you can't remember I guess...

Krusche and Misha arguing all the time is pretty cute lol, I think it was even better when they worked together to open a door and made bets the whole time making them shout each other food if they got things wrong haha. Misha really is such a great girl to be so scared of heights but try her best to save Aurica. As usual though, Lyner is pretty crazy to jump and save Aurica when she was falling, like dang, they're lucky Krusche was nearby to catch them with her airship. Anyway, lmao at Aurica's naming sense and that fireball she made😂 I feel like Lyner is way more encouraging towards Aurica than he was with Misha before though, I guess it helps when it's obvious that she's troubled, whereas Misha being capable made him slow to realise a lot of things? Awww, Aurica cares so much about Lyner. She crafted blue magic in the real world because she wanted to protect him so much🥺 He's honestly really reckless though, he really could have died with the Hymn Crystal Purger, he's lucky Jack saved him. Honestly though, the more I play this, the more I feel like Lyner's type is Aurica and I'm so sadddd😭 I mean, I like Aurica too because she's so cute, but Misha😭😭

Lmao at how much it would cost Krusche to fix Lyner's airship, back to trying to climbing the tower back to Platina instead~ Well, I didn't expect Claire to really sing a song, her voice was beautiful! I'm glad she's out of Tenba and doing what she wants now, I feel sorry for any Reyvateil stuck in Tenba. Honestly, considering how self-sacrificing Misha was before for Aurica, I would have expected Lyner to care a little more of the possibility that Misha might be hurt or dead from one of the Hexagonal plates falling off and landing in Tenba where Bourd and them were having a meeting. I'm starting to think he really doesn't deserve Misha lolll. Anyway, the virus/Reyvateil Mir sounds familiar, was she one the girls in the next game? A Reyvateil utopia sounds about right if she was also once oppressed by people like Tenba. I honestly can't remember much about Ayatane but I do feel like I remember he disliked Lyner for being the one that protected Shurelia when he feels that he's so much more capable which is understandable considering he seems to be obsessed with her too. Well, the President of Tenba looks very...wow haha. Ooh I remember Misha looking super great as her real age, but she's great the way she is. Anyway, considering that Tenba experiments on Reyvateil, I hope Radolf talks about this with the church, but I guess I'm not sure if the church even has the power to destroy them even if they were so inhumane. Well, dang, Demon Aurica looks like a spider devil or something lol. I'm not surprised there's a part of Aurica that hates Claire though, it's understandable because she feels so inadequate compared to her. It's interesting to read the other bits in the cosmosphere that aren't as important, because omg, Aurica actually really liked this Knight guy before and she got rejected so terribly, that's sad.. I love Aurica's images of Radolf and Krusche, they're so silly🤣 Misha as a student body president is cute lol, and Shurelia(?) is there too?? Lol. Anyway, I like the cat on top of a vacuum, it's so cute. Lmao, okay wasting 900DP to find out that Aurica is a cat fanatic is hilarious, the idea of her rolling around with cats when no one is looking is so funny😂

I'm so glad climbing the Tower led to saving Misha, her breaking down and crying was so heartbreaking, she's really suffered😭 On the other hand, lmao at these residents up here cooking chicken, I just stole all their food✌️Lol at the trial though, it's literally just to test your strength! I'm sure Jack and them could do it too. Anyway, I never realised the Tower was called the Tower of Ar Tonelico, and oh wow, it's pretty cool that in between the Lower World and the Upper World is the Frozen Eye that separates the two so they're actually not physically attached. Oh wow, so Misha being the Star Singer meant she was the one singing her Chronicle Key song to keep all the viruses out, but because her song was stolen and she can't sing it anymore, the viruses are now attacking Platina. How sad though? She has to sing for eternity to keep world peace but what about her? Ooh, Jack left the Teru Tribe because they were too fixated on rules even when they were on the brink of destruction huh? I guess it's understandable why he would be annoyed, he's seeing so many people close to him die and he can't even use the technology that could possibly save them because of some covenant with Elemia. On the other hand, nice to know that Krusche wants to go to the Upper World because her ex-boyfriend Luke went there and never came back. Tbh, the Luke part sounds familiar but I don't remember anything else about this story. And I see, Jack is close to Misha because he used to protect her until he left.. She must have been so lonely after that. Anyway, I don't know why it didn't click to me that people are named after musical instruments here, like Flute and Harmonica lol, not sure what Tastiella is lol.

Time to do Misha's cosmosphere before going up! Adult Misha is beautiful~ lmao at the chunk of ice being an ice fairy😂 LOL at Aurica in the Don Leon costume😂😂😂 I'm kinda glad we did Misha's cosmosphere now though, because I would be so confused why her world is like this if I didn't know she has the responsibility to sing for eternity to keep the world peaceful. Especially now that she can wander around to find her song, I'm sure she's even more reluctant to go back to singing all by herself to save people she doesn't even know, and she's been doing this her whole life. I'm dying at the "flower" you can water with the China dress Misha that turns into a freaking tree hahahahah. I'm not sure about an abundance of love being able to grow a little flower into a gigantic tree😂 But I guess it exactly shows how little exposure Misha has of the real world, since even the stuff in her cosmosphere is really a lot of stuff she read in books. Honestly, I got mad at Lyner when he shouted at Misha to like do her job as the song fairy to save this Krusche, Misha was right that he doesn't understand her feelings at all. She's been stuck in one place for so long and has finally been given medicine that could turn her into a human, of course she would hesitate. I don't really blame Lyner though, since he doesn't really know about her life and her past at all. Shinobi Misha is so hot, I love the costume! It's so heartwrenching to hear how understanding Misha is to say she's willing on giving up on this chance (that she doesn't know if she'll ever get again) so that she can save Krusche because she understands that as long as she's alive, there's still a chance for her to find another way to be free, but if Krusche dies, she'll never have a second chance for her life. HAHAHA, I was thinking if those things in Misha's hair were drums, and thanks to Hama's confirmation, yes they are! But just like Hama's bells, they're just decorations, so don't beat those drums she says lmaooo.

Lolll at Shurelia being Misha's mum telling her to grow up. So, the reason Misha hates growing up is because when she was young, she was still "free" and got to be in Platina playing with Lyner and stuff, but once she grew up, she was forced to sing and sing, so now she hates the idea of being "grown up" and having to live with this responsibility for the rest of her life, since at least if she's a kid, she can rebel and be a bit more selfish... I always find it hilarious how every Shurelia character in the cosmospheres have to ask Lyner out 😂😂 I guess it's because Shurelia is connected to all the Reyvateils? So even if Shurelia herself doesn't realise it, she really does like Lyner enough that it leaks into all her "characters"? It's terrible to think about how strict Lyner's dad was on Misha when she was in Platina if it's still haunting her here. Aww for Aurica's cosmosphere, Don Leon was a gift from Claire to Aurica before she left the village, she told Aurica to treat it as if it was her so that she wouldn't be lonely. It's cute how Don Leon really stayed so important to her that it's even her Mind Guardian now.

I'm glad Misha put Lyner in his place and told him it's too late to say he doesn't want to involve everyone, but I guess it's understandable since they could die or never be able to come back to the Lower World, but even still, Misha is right, they should be the ones to make that decision and not him. Anyway, in terms of the story, I feel like Lyner would choose Aurica to download the Hymn Crystal into to fight the viruses but I'm biased towards Misha so~ The viruses invading Misha's cosmosphere must have been pretty scary tbh like omggg, that's terrifying, especially since she got sealed in a crystal and everything was a wasteland. It was nice that after choosing Misha for this, it seems like Lyner has finally shown concern and worry over Misha lolll. Well, Platina is saved and now there's potential for more interaction between the Upper and Lower Worlds so I guess that will be nice. And that's the end of Phase 1!

Overall, I've been really enjoying my time with Ar Tonelico again. Tbh, now that I'm playing it again, it really does run like a visual novel with RPG elements hahaha. The battle system gets pretty repetitive and boring though, I'm glad it's not hard, but it can get tiring when there's a lot of random battles, I had to escape a few times because I was just so bored of it lmao. Otherwise, I definitely like Aurica much more than when I was a kid lol! She's actually really adorable and kind, lacking confidence at times, but with Lyner, I think she's definitely found a lot more confidence in herself and her abilities, and we should really be thankful to Lyner for that hahah. I love her weird naming sense and how she's so obstinate about silly things. As for Misha, I still really love her too. I like how she's so honest and true to herself, and I think I like her dynamic with Krusche and them more than Aurica is with them, but I really like how vocal Misha is about stuff like telling Lyner what she thinks and stuff like that. Shurelia is as cool as I used to think she was haha. I think I'll go with Aurica's route first though, just because I've never played it😆

#ar tonelico

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