#and me riveted emotional as fuck
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requested by anon: Jack Brewer & Kim Crawford in (any scene)
↳ KICKIN' IT (2011 - 2015) 3.08 | "Two Dates And A Funeral"
#kickin' it#kickinitedit#kick#disneyedit#userelliee#hirschiersdraisaitl#tuserandrea#usercallie#disneyxdedit#userotp#televisiongifs#tuserjana#cinematv#myedit#kickin it#jack brewer#kim crawford#request#i physically made the attendees of my 16th birthday party#watch this episode when it aired#imagine a room of like 15 teen girls who don't watch disney goddamn xd#and me riveted emotional as fuck#because a 15 year old kicked another 15 year olds butt after 3 years of shipping#good times...
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i will never shut up abt the eldorado album. EVER.
#what ty’s listening to#the bag i always use has the cover from a vinyl copy of this LP riveted on the front#nothing beats listening to this LP on my turntable thru headphones#elo my fucking beloved#jeff lynne my beloved#i could write an essay just abt how magnificent the string parts are in this one track#but on the album as a whole????? i could write a novel#THE BRASS PARTS TOO. AAAAAAAAA#i always listen to albums in order. same w my playlists. the shuffle button is my archnemesis. ruins the listening experience#this track specifically makes me bawl my eyes out#maybe im drunker than i thought if im getting this worked up abt this song#but also. i get this emotional abt it when sober too LOL#this is my dad’s fav elo album and mine too#ty posts#ty posts!!!!!!#Spotify
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♡ Hook, line, and sinker (2) (sub!abby // follower req)
Basketball!abby X nerdy reader
Read pt.1 here
♡ ♡
Summary: Abby gets eager to get another study seshion in within days of seeing her last
Warnings: smut, MDNI, sub!abby, top!reader, abby is a whiny sub, orgasming from being untouched, lots of tongue???, my digital footprint is assfucked, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader
A/N: sorry I left yall on a cliffhanger but pt.3(finale) will undoubtedly be my favorite, I’ve had it planned from the beginning so hehe. I’m so glad you guys are enjoying it as much as I am. Love you like always, enjoy muah!
♡ ♡
She couldn’t even fucking look at you. Not a single glance. It’s as if her every pathetic whimper and plea would broadcast to the general public if she so much as looked your way.
It was pathetic, and a little comical to say the least. The power you held over her was obvious, and she knew it. It made her sick, the way she gave up so easily, broke down every wall, gave into you. But for fuck’s sake was it riveting, she couldn’t stop thinking of the intensity…how powerful yet slow you made it. How you worked your way into completing dissecting her.
She had never let any sexual manner have the chance of passion, intimacy. Sex was a goal to her. The intricacies getting to that destination were trivial to her. You fucked it all up, she started dwelling on it, growing obsessed of every detail you slowed masterfully.
She needed more.
♡ ♡
After a week of unmet glances and radio static you came to the conclusion that you completely wrecked the ox of a woman. All it took was a few words and your tongue to rip her out of her upheld perception of herself.
You tried fucking with her the second time you had class with her. Once, sure, maybe she was busy or concentrated for once, but twice? She was purposefully hiding, like a scared bunny from a predator.
You bumped into her walking out of class. If you could even call it a bump- more like you threw your body at her knowing that she couldn’t ignore it. At the touch of you she almost seized up, staring down at the floor in front of her, continuing her path. You threw her a teasing, “oh…sorry!” To which she returned with awkward mumbling, something along the lines of, “ah- uh-,” and continued almost in a run away from you.
You laughed it off. A few words and your tongue…fucking comical.
If avoiding her reality is the way that worked for her, so be it. There was no need to try to process her internal emotions- she couldn’t even do it. So, you let it die, you knew the type of person she was. You knew her dirty little secret.
♡ ♡
Another mind numbing night of studying till your eyes popped out of their sockets was in store for you. Staring at white pages filled with words and highlighting’s, fuck they could be in another language for all you knew at this hour.
It was getting late and you were about ready to throw the towel in, making it tomorrow mornings issue. You hear a buzz from your phone, rubbing your eyes you wonder who has the audacity to try speaking with you at this hour. “Abby Anderson,” illuminates on your face. At first you think you may be dreaming, your eyes weren’t working well at this point anymore.
A.A: Can we meet up this week, need help w the test
Now you need me?
A.A: huh
Nothing. Test isn’t for another 3 weeks… why do you want to start now?
A.A: need to get ahead
Mmm okay. Tomorrow at the library?
A.A: too loud
Okay coffee shop
A.A: I don’t like coffee
I didn’t ask
A.A: I’ll be over at your place tomorrow- 8
Little late for studying
A.A: do you ever shut up
If you promise you’ll be nice
A.A: I didn’t say that
I’m sure you’ll be a good girl
A.A: let me come over
See you at 8 tomorrow.
Only Abby Anderson would attempt to booty call you through a ruse of studying. She usually came knocking down your door the night before the test begging you for your help. Three weeks before was, well… pathetic.
♡ ♡
When she showed up at your dorm door, 8pm on the nose, she was more nervous than you had ever seen her. She blessed you with one weary glance as you whipped the door open, but continued her gaze down afterwards.
When she sat on the bed, for the first time she sat completely straight up, uncomfortably straight, folding her legs across and twiddling her fingers between her legs. A nervous habit you’d picked up from her on your last endeavor.
She never usually paid attention to your lecturing but fuck was it like she wasn’t even in the room this time. Throwing out quick “yeah’s” and “yup’s” on a routine after you’d say a thought.
You knew exactly what she came here for…but god was it fun to watch her squirm. You could’ve thrown her…okay maybe not thrown…but at least pushed her down on your bed so she didn’t have to do any work, give her the easy way out. But that would not have been amusing.
You’re in the middle of explaining a chemistry equation and- “can you just- do it,” she blurts out, stopping you completely in your tracks. You watch her intently, waiting for an elaboration you won’t get. Her eyes trained on her lap, waiting for you to pick up her scattered pieces and place them together.
“Do what abby?” You say faking curiosity. “You know,” she says in return. “I don’t think I do,” you taunt her. “Please-“ she says meekly. You begin to crawl silently towards her, moving her hands up from her lap so you can straddle her and move her hands back to tops of your thighs.
The sudden sensation causes her breath to hitch, her eyes watching her unwarranted hand placement on your thighs. You lightly grip her jawline so that she meets your eyes, just watching as her mouth opens in a pant.
“You make me nervous,” she says, if she could, she’d break your eye contact, but you wouldn’t let that happen.
“New game.”
She looks back at you puzzled, almost frightened. You grip your hand around her chin tighter, “you’re going to lay down, just like the last time, and I’m going lick every inch of you, and you’re going to tell me right where it’s sensitive, you understand?”
You watch as she gulps down a nervous breath, shaking her head rapidly, eyes dazed. “Good girl, now go lay down.” Her hands move to your hips, grasping down on the flesh desperately, “I can’t handle when you call me that-“
“No touching- or I stop.” She pulls her hands down quickly, moving her way to the back of your bed. “Y- okay. I-I promise.”
She looked like I child waiting to open presents on Christmas, eyes bright and wide, waiting for your command. This time you didn’t have to ask, she immediately ripped her shirt and sweats off, leaving her only in her sports bra and boxers adorned with a patch of slick forming in the center. You climb closer to her, kneeling between her thighs.
Just to toy with her further you slowly begin unbuttoning your blouse, her mouth starting to gape. Once it had been completely removed you started working on your shorts, slowly shimmying them down your thighs with your eyes trained onto her. She bit onto her lip watching as you were left only in your own bra and panties.
You climb back onto her, bare skin on bare skin. You wanted to tear into her, but taking your time to cut deep would be so much more rewarding. “You understand the rules?” You as watching her teeth cut into her lip, “mhm,” she replies through her closed mouth.
You lean into her, catching her shoulder with your tongue as she jolts into you. You feel her arms come up beside you but fall quickly. You trace it up to her collarbone, letting your teeth graze the thin skin there, following to where they met in the middle. You trail it up the middle of her throat, feeling the vibration of her breath.
“C-close,” she breaths out. You redirect to the side of her neck, right on the pulse. You already knew it was sensitive there but…it was fun.
“Fuck there,” she breathes out. You take your time licking down the throb, nipping at it, teasing the threat, eliciting as many little whimpers you can get out of her. Once you’ve had your fun you move up, catching the lobe of her ear with your teeth, “holy fuck- yeah there,” she groans out.
You bring your mouth into her ear, whispering gently into it as your hand snakes against the opposite side of her neck, “what? No ones ever touched you here?”
She groans back at you, “n-no. Never.” You return back to the shell of her ear, nipping at the surrounding flesh.
You begin your decent, your clothed cunt reaching hers, “take this off for me pretty,” you say outlining her bra with your fingertips. She feverishly nods tossing it off of her. You lean into her chest, taking no time to meet your tongue to her rose pink bud. Her body jolts up at the sensation, her chest growing a deep shade of pink.
“There. Right there!” You begin circling it, saturating it with your spit, “I know baby,” you say glancing back into her eyes, lidded trying to keep them open so she can watch you, but it was getting so so hard.
Your teeth latch onto it, encasing the bud gently. Flushed red as the blood raced to them, teeth purpling dots into the soft flesh. The whimpers falling off her pathetic throat.
“You k-know you c-ant talk to me like that,” you watch as her hands grip into the sheets, knuckles whitening. “You can come baby, I won’t be mad.” Your fingers come up to twist her untouched nipple as you lap your tongue at the swollen one in your mouth.
The pool of your own arousal soaking into hers, even covered you can feel the pulsing of her, repeated by your own.
“I- I can’t.” She pants out as her hips buck up into your clothed core. “Yes you can, you’re being such a good girl, show me how good you feel.”
“Please- no n-not like this.” Her head drops into your pillow…she’s so fucking close. The red on her chest now trailing up her neck.
“Come for me pretty girl, just like that, rub that pretty pussy into me.” She begins shaking, trying to stop herself, but it was too late.
“Fffffffuckkkkkkkk,” she begins reeling, whimpering through her reluctant orgasm. Her hips grind into yours as her chest splattered with beads of sweat rapidly rises and falls. “Good girl, keep going.” She rides it out as long as she can, chasing her own pathetic untouched high.
Once she settles she glances up at you dazed, as if she wasn’t sure what had just happened. You stare back smugly, sure of your power.
“That was- embarrassing.” She ashamedly shakes her head, letting the tight grip of the sheets go. “Quite hot on the contrary,” you dismiss. “God if anyone ever-“ she begins to protest.
“Let me show you how it makes me feel,” you cut her off, dismantling yourself from her so that your legs frame around hers, wide open.
Your own pool of slick dripping out the sides of your thin panties. She gawks at the site, unable to remove her gaze from the sense of familiarity. The feeling of intensity so tight you cant stop yourself from the natural reaction.
“Can I-“ she begins to reach out to you but you cut her short, “no.” You dismiss her with no room for discussion.
This wasn’t about your secret. It was about hers.
Follower req by: @ghgygd
Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow
#abby anderson#the last of us#abby anderson smut#abby x reader#abby anderson tlou2#abby angst#abby the last of us#abby tlou#sub abby#abby anderson fanfiction#abby anderson fanfic#abby anderson x reader#abby x fem!reader#abby anderson x f!reader#abby anderson x you#abby a
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one-night stand
your first date :)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
“Hey!” you greet him with a welcoming smile, your gaze lingering on his scar-adorned features and his mysteriously alluring eyes, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs.
“Hey...” he responds, holding your riveted glare as if you’re the most enchanting soul to ever walk the earth.
(you both just stand there like idiots staring at each other with heart eyes for a good few minutes)
He called you to say he’s gonna take you to the pub with his mates.
He didn’t even ask you, only told you to message him the address and that he’s gonna pick you up.
(what a freak! I love him!! and yes he takes you to meet the lads on your first date because they're the closest thing to a family he's got so he wants you to meet them asap and he's already planned your wedding in his mind!!)
“Umm... these are for you!” he mumbles, holding out the bouquet of flowers he got you, his unwavering stare still fixated on you.
(he asked Gaz what to get you and he said the simple old-fashioned flowers are the best way to go)
“Oh! These are beautiful! Thank you so much!” you exclaim, almost tearing up as you take the flowers with a grateful nod.
(spending a good few more minutes staring at the flowers while sobbing, the poor lad thinks he did something wrong!)
“Fuck! Sorry! I love them! Thank you... again!” you ramble and chuckle nervously while furiously wiping your tears with your sleeve and turn back to go inside and put the flowers in a vase.
“So? Where to?” you ask excitedly when you walk back to the door, “To the pub. Near my place. About 20 minutes from here.” he states matter of factly, yet somehow it sounds intriguing. Maybe it’s just his voice that makes everything sound so... so... (idk man his voice just does something to me)
He leads you to his car, a Range Rover Velar, suitable for a guy like him; it holds an intimidating and mysterious aura paired with a rough and tough attitude, yet maintaining a sense of style, captivating.
He opens the door for you and the moment you step inside, a mixed aroma of whiskey and leather reaches your nose, intoxicating.
He lets you pick the songs during the whole drive and sing along off-key while he chuckles at you, surprisingly not annoyed one bit. On the contrary, his heart might just burst out of his chest.
Once you arrive at the pub, he has his hand on the small of your back, leading you to their usual cozy spot.
You take a seat in the far corner of the booth and he sits beside you, resting his arm on the back of the chair behind your head and leaning closer to you to introduce everyone through the loud music.
The faint smell of pine, bourbon and tobacco takes over your senses, the low timbre of his voice and the soft brush of his fingers on the back of your neck, already making your head cloudy and your heart flutter.
As night carries on, you can feel the warmth in your heart turn into seething flames, engulfing your soul as he shifts closer and closer to you, his arm now wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you impossibly closer to him.
His head is turned towards you all throughout the night, occasionally making sarcastic remarks and smiling proudly as you laugh, your beautiful laugh making him adore you even more if that’s even possible.
He takes you back home before midnight, his paranoia creeping up on him out of nowhere and cursing himself for endangering your life even though nothing even remotely dangerous has occurred.
He kisses you at your doorstep, his kiss so sweet and tender, melting your heart right at the spot.
“Good night, dove.” he murmurs while softly caressing your cheek, “G’night, Si.” you whisper back with a hazy smile as if in a trance, absolutely smitten, bewitched even.
He stays by your door and asks you to text him when you’re inside.
He stays a few more minutes after you text, observing the surroundings to make sure no one has followed you.
And he leaves with a newfound emotion enfolding him, reviving his cold, dead heart as he thought it was.
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#cod x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#ghost riley#ghost simon riley#cod fanfic#ghost cod#cod ghost#ghost call of duty#call of duty#cod mw2#cod#mw2#cod modern warfare
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Foreign Feelings
Pairing: Anakin(rots)XFem!reader
Summary: All the smut and little plot 😝
Warnings~ NSFW, 18+, minors DNI, oral sex (M!receiving), hair pulling, dirty talking, praise kink, dom/sub dynamics
Credit: This is my own spin off to a story I read on here and I can’t find the story again, so please, please text me for inspo credit!
P.S. Also this is my first story since I started up writing again! Please feel free to send me a DM with suggestions or advice! Banner at the end by @cafekitsune Enjoy!!
Word count: 1.6K
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I’ve never done this before,"
You admitted lowly, the rush of adrenaline pulsing through your veins as you sank to your knees on Anakin’s bedroom floor. Panic and excitement warred within you, mingling with a heady anticipation of the unknown. As you both surrendered to the electric tension that had been building between you, a whirlwind of thoughts raced through your mind - are you ready to embrace the unknown, or are you merely a passenger on this journey of forbidden desire?
Amidst the chaos of your emotions, one thing remains clear - in this moment, you feel truly alive. Being naked and this vulnerable in front of Anakin was not only a new experience but a thrilling one as well. His thumb traced your bottom lip as he let you wrestle his pants off. The riveting touch of his rough fingers against your skin sends shivers down your spine, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatens to consume you whole. As his tongue glides along his bottom lip, you find yourself mesmerized by the raw intensity of his gaze. Those eyes, his enchanting blue eyes, stare down at you. The heat of his glare sends a rush of heat flooding your cheeks, a flush of arousal steadily boiling within you.
Every word that leaves your lips seems to fan the flames of desire kindling within him.
He needed you.
"You'll be perfect, y/n— Just—"
His words trailed off into a low, deep growl but the heat in his eyes spoke volumes as your hand tentatively wrapped around him. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, a mix of nervousness and desire churning within you. He rolled his head back and took a deep breath. As his hand tangles in your hair, you feel a surge of heat radiating from his touch, a tangible reminder of the burning hunger simmering between you. The urgency in his actions sends a thrill racing down your spine, a heady mixture of fervor and anxiety pooling in the pit of your stomach as he pushes you closer to his pulsing cock.
"Mmm," Anakin's mouth betrayed him as you took his tip into your wet lips. The sweetness of his precum traveled through your tastebuds as you swirled around him, trying to take more of him in. Your thoughts clouded quickly as you let yourself fall into your own sense of pleasure. His cock made your mouth feel full and warm as his hand in your hair guided you.
Your eyes glanced up to catch a glimpse of the lovely Jedi; his stomach flexed with sweat glistening on his bare skin, and his mouth was agape with surprise. The feeling of seeing him surprised by something you’re doing to him made your core tighten, and you used the feeling of satisfaction to push your throat deeper around his cock.
“That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” his tone was smooth and it rang through your ears, erupting a small chill to travel down your back. The scruff of his pubes grazed your lip as his hair-wrapped hand held your head firmly in place. Your throat started to contract, begging you for air as lines of drool trailed from the corners of your mouth. A sound came from your throat you’d never heard before, and his grip tightened on your hair. He quickly yanked you off of him, oxygen filling your lungs with a sharp stab. Coughing and trying to catch your breath you look up at him, unsure of what had gone wrong.
"What? What’s wrong?” You questioned him, worried you had somehow messed up.
“What happened?" You clutched your hands to his thighs as you stared intently, searching his face for an answer. Had you done something wrong? Did you mess up? Your thoughts filled with worry.
His eyes darkened with desire, cloudy with unspoken longing, while his mouth remained slightly open in awe. You observed, a pang of uncertainty gnawing at your insides as you met his gaze.
Doubt and desire knotted within you as you awaited his next move. His hand still buried in your hair as he chuckled deep and lowly, his voice sounding of the harshest silk.
"You said this was your first time?" He questioned.
You nodded your head in agreement.
'How is that possible?' He thought to himself, 'I felt the back of her throat. I felt it. She didn’t fight when I forced her to stay choking.'
His thoughts ran wild with excitement as his hand pulled tightly at your hair, his next words came out… well, in no other way than demanding.
"Open."
he commanded, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you as you obediently complied. You had no reason not to oblige as you opened your mouth, letting your tongue drape across your bottom lip. With each breathless moment that passes, you find yourself teetering on the edge of surrender, torn between the intoxicating pull of desire and the lingering echoes of hesitation. He began smacking his tip on your tongue, a wet thwacking sound filling his small chamber.
“Just-Relax” His voice was sweet yet held a sternness to it.
His mouth slowly parted as he let his cock enter your mouth ever so slightly just to pull it back out, raking it across your soaking tongue. His other hand gripped his robe tightly, trying to keep it on his chest and out of your way.
“You know you messed up,” Anakin let his hips rock slowly into you, small groans leaving his plump lips in between his words.
“Now that I know you can take me, you’re never leaving my sight,”
The words left his lips and flowed through the air like a cold breeze on a hot day, it made goosebumps trickle all over your body.
The taste of his cock was foreign to your tastebuds; you weren’t sure how to feel about the new taste. Anakin's grip on your hair tightened as he guided you to take his full length into your throat once again. This time was harder than the last; it was like he grew in the small amount of time he wasn’t in your mouth. Disregarding your attempts to breathe, he held you firmly, staring down at you. His eyes clouded with lust as his mouth continued to murmur slurs one after the other.
"Fuck. Mmm shit… yes, like that, such a good girl," He could feel every time your throat retracted; it was sending him over the edge as he let himself sit in the back of your throat. He roughly started thrusting his hips into your face, getting as deep into your throat as he could before quickly pulling off again. As he exited your mouth you let out a deep cough, drool still pooling down your chin and covering your neck. You tried taking multiple breaths to regain some composure, but Anakin didn’t want to see you composed.. no, quite the opposite, he wanted to see you completely overwrought and undone.
Without warning, his firm grasp on your hair forces you back onto his member with relentless urgency. Leaving you no time to prepare as he fucked your throat at an impatient pace. When he wasn’t holding his cock as deep as it would get in the back of your throat, he was holding you tightly in place as he rocked his hips into you, desperately trying to chase his climax.
Your eyes burned with tears, and your throat cried for some kind of release. Your gags and chokes were sounds of unholy scripture to his ears and it gave him exactly what he needed to release deep into your throat. He threw his head back as his groans rippled deep, he practically growled your name out.
It didn’t take much for you to swallow his load, he was so deep into your throat it was practically in your stomach by the time it exited him. Even after his release, his hand stayed firmly grasped to the back of your head, not letting you move an inch off of his cock as he pulsed in your mouth.
“Oh yeah, you’re mine,”
Anakin’s words were hazy to your ears as his chest heaved with deep labored breaths. Your arms shot up to his thighs, trying to push off; your lungs begging for oxygen and your body reacting to its signals. He refused to release his grip for what seemed like an eternity, though in reality, only a few seconds had passed as he kept you in place.
With a forceful tug, he pulled your head back, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. Your face was covered in spit and tears. He thought you had never looked more beautiful, never more stunning than right now. His chest continued heaving as he dropped his robe down, his other hand remaining firmly around your hair. Your eyes flickered up to his as you tried desperately to catch your breath. Anakin had never looked more extraordinary in your eyes, the sweat glistening off his eyebrows as his lips curved into a delicious smirk.
The smirk deepened as he surveyed the masterpiece he had created on your face, a scene straight out of a movie, one he couldn’t take his eyes off. Anakin’s eyes dancing with ecstasy, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he tried to slow his heart rate.
“Your mouth will only ever know my dick,” He said proudly.
“Do you understand?” His words echoed in your mind, a heady mix of validation and vulnerability washing over you in waves as he used his now free hand to caress your liquid-covered cheeks.
#anakin skywalker#hayden christensen#spicy reads#smut#anakin skywalker smut#star wars anakin#star wars#anakin x reader#anakin x you#anakin imagine#sw anakin#anakin skywalker imagine#star wars x reader#anakin star wars#anakin x y/n#anakin x fem reader#star wars au#anakin au#rough kink#dirty talking
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ miguel o'hara x spidey!fem!reader. CONTENT WARNINGS: oops, all berries (i.e. angst) no smut but minors/ageless blogs go away. depictions of traumatic events. insinuations of anxiety and ptsd. WORD COUNT: 1.4K PSD CREDIT!!!
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ love note from the author: this is PART 2 to PURGATORY but you can read this by itself ig... i'm not your mom ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Okay, let’s actually try to get through this, shall we?
My name is – Actually, not important.
I was bitten by a radioactive spider… But something tells me you already knew that. Wait, how many of these have you sat through? Holy shit– that many?!
But can any of those guys say they’ve been through space and time, universe after universe, only to get stranded in a total vacuum void?
You try to bang your head in exasperation but with nothing to cushion you, you end up pulling enough full-body revolutions to make an Olympic acrobat jealous.
Cut to a stretch of groaning that follows you around like a white flag.
Because it sure as hell feels like it’s high time to give up. He always did say you never knew when to quit. You didn’t see it as a bad thing then but now… With a little zero-gravity perspective…
No, no, no– the last thing you want is to give him the satisfaction of being right.
This phase comes and goes. You call it the I-can’t-not-hate-you-you-sent-me-here-in-the-first-place stage.
Grief is fluid, okay?
You despise it all the same. Because when you’re like this, all you can think about is him. Him and the last time you looked into those jaded crimson eyes.
There’s the silver lining you were looking for when it comes to your multiverse communicator finally giving out.
At least you never have to see how heartbroken he looked ever again, perfectly recreated pixel-by-fucking-pixel.
Now if only your actual memory would degrade the same way.
Because you still see it when you close your eyes, you see it all. The strike of terror flashing like lightning in the reflection of his dilated pupils, having come as a harbinger of a terrible, terrible, irreversible decision. The taut coiling of the fists he keeps at his sides, his claws coming in– not because he can’t help it but because he feels he deserves it.
“Miguel !!!! What the fuck?! How could you do this to me!?” You wail, lungs rotted with rage as you punch haplessly against the cocoon swiftly crystalizing around you. Panicked and like a caged animal, your eyes frantically scour the ceiling for an escape but you can only see your wild desperation repeated back to you in the many rubied eyes of the Going-Home-Machine.
I knew that was a stupid fucking name for you.
You never thought you would be on the other end of this wretched thing, be the little fly caught in its web and when you look at Miguel, eyes wrought with a pain too much for even Spider-Woman to bear, you look pitiful like prey too. Your chest spasms with a choked, “I…” Your fists, weak with emotion, unfurl and give way to open palms. Your breath ragged, when you pick your head back up at Miguel you let him have it.
“I loved you.” You say it with canines bared with poisoned malice, rage finally boiling over into heated rivets of tears down your cheeks.
And Miguel, he’s never looked more destroyed.
You swallow a sob, gulping so hard it rocks your chest. Your bottom lip warbles. You’re not good at this tough guy routine.
You never were.
“You can’t let it get to you.” Miguel’s voice, direct and to the point, precedes him in echoes as he makes his way to the high corner you’ve wedged yourself in.
Angling your body away from him, you avoid your superior’s gaze. Superior, because right now he’s not your boyfriend. He’s your commander.
“You’re terrible at comforting, has anyone ever told you that?” You call back, deadpan tone as good a deterrent as any. You sniffle, your throat clenching when you try to stuff the remainder of your cries down. When you finally wad up all your feelings for later, you turn back to face him with a mock look of happiness on your mask. “Who said I’m letting it get to me? I’m not letting it get to me. Sounds like you’re projecting.”
And because he’s your boss right now, not your lover, he sighs in frustration. “Mierda... I’m trying to help you.” He says with two fingers pinching the skin between his knitted brows after his headgear dematerializes. “You’re going to get burnt out at this rate. You know we can’t save them all. We’ve been through this.”
Your body coils into itself, trying to self soothe but it’s not working. Miguel’s voice starts to fade into the background, the cacophony of architecture collapsing and screaming, my god the screaming, overtaking your everything just then.
“You need to get past this–”
“Fucking hell, Miguel– Could you stop acting like my boss for one fucking minute and just be my boyfriend?!” There’s no denying how savagely ragged the last mission made you now that you’ve ripped your mask off. Your eyes are red and puffy, swollen from the tears you thought were safe to shed. Your lips are littered with little slivers of cuts from biting down too hard when you first tried to keep the devastation from bubbling up to the surface.
His body stills, as does yours.
You’d never seen Miguel cry. Not until that day.
It wasn’t bawling. It wasn’t even whimpering. It was a single drop that ran down one cheek, you saw it for a fleeting second before he rushed over to hug you, his hulking body cradling yours in what you thought was love.
But you’ve realized since then that it wasn’t out of love. It was out of grief. Grief because he had to let you go. You weren’t strong enough for this.
And he wasn’t strong enough to watch you go through it again.
Or so he thought. But no, true agony was watching you now, jailed in a prison of his making.
True agony would be spending a lifetime away from you.
“Stop the machine!” Miguel’s order rasps in his throat, a prominent vein down its column bulging and only worsening when Margo doesn’t move as fast as he would like. Frustrated and scared, Miguel rushes to the maze of computer mainframes, his hands a blur as he hopes just one, any one will abort a process already…
94% of the way in.
“Miguel!” Margo’s voice finally comes into focus, “Miguel, you have to stop– the machine–”
“You can either help me or get out of the way.”
Margo stops but that isn’t good enough either.
Big hands, far too roughly, grab at her shoulders and toss her aside in a frenzy. He can fix this. He can.
“Miguel!”
Even the whites in his eyes are splotched red when he turns back to you but finds you weren’t even looking at him.
Your face to face with a machine on the fritz, the massive technological arachnid drawing too many strands from too many places, mixing timelines to override another– corrupting the chrysalis it had nearly finished making.
“I can fix this, Miguel but you have to– Miguel, stop!” Margo’s screams are devastating, shrill and choked as she tries to remedy the situation but her fingers go limp. Limp because she knows.
There’s no fixing this.
The spider’s arms start jerking sporadically, its long limbs with metal claws ripping the timelines it just crossed. The connected strands start to glitch, the bot’s failsafe commands trying to pull through but it can’t fix what it can’t stop.
You watch in horror, too scared to move much less breathe, as the glowing lines stretch and tear, their dimensions ultimately being warped by…
A black hole.
“Miguel, wait–”
Your hand instinctively reaches out, memories of all the times he’s caught you just like this flashing in your mind like a flipbook animation. Only, he can’t save you this time.
No one can.
Thaaaaattt’s enough emo for one day, I think.
You tuck your knees in, slowly folding into yourself as your spin cycle finally comes to an end. Your chest is wound up tight, your heart drumming so loud you feel it in your eardrums. You just want this to end.
A sob creeps up the column of your throat, your eyes already seared red with the tears you refuse to cry. In a rush of emotions, far too many for you to isolate, you rip off the communicator band around your wrist and send it flying to nowhere.
At least, that’s what should have happened.
Instead, your accessory’s open-ended trajectory, well–
Meets an end.
A black hole appears from what looks like a ripped stitch, its growth unstable and its edges weathered. You have to investigate, it’s the first anomaly you’ve seen in this vapid world and possibly your only way back home.
Home.
You imagine Miguel.
So you dive, not knowing where this will take you but…
The bad thing’s already happened. How much worse can it get?
#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel x you#miguel o'hara#astv x reader#astv miguel#astv fanfic#miguel angst#miguel o'hara angst#.˚₊ ੈ ʚ 🍰 ɞ ₊˚. ꒰ a little treat for miguel. ꒱
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pairing ⛧ creepy medical student! law x gn! reader
warnings ⛧ minors: please do not interact! i will block you. while there’s no smut, this is suggestive, and everything that happens is nonconsensual (law is gross). mentions of masturbation, fucking inanimate objects, bruises, and death. additionally: cum sighting, cursing, knife play, a little blood, some spit, manhandling, and general grimetown weirdness.
word count ⛧ 1132
notes ⛧ this is another installment of the garden of earthly delights series, as well as a contribution to @bastardblvd’s house of slimy horrors collab—my prompt was “pumpkin patch”! the plot is nonexistent… just go with it <3
something isn’t right.
the early evening sky is hazy, the sun obscured by a leaden film that shrouds grimetown’s pumpkin patch in a deathly hue. the barren field before you is more of a squash graveyard than anything else—the vast expanse of dirt is littered with a few dozen orange carcasses.
this is certainly not what you were expecting when your date suggested a fun autumnal outing.
“this has to be the world’s most depressing pumpkin patch,” you grouse, craning your neck to look up at law’s stony expression; as usual, his face doesn’t betray his thoughts. you can never get a good read on him. you don’t know him well enough to tell if he’s simply awkward or if he genuinely doesn’t emote. “we should go somewhere else.”
the jet-haired man places a firm palm on the small of your back, urging you forward. “c’mon, we’re already here. we can’t make jack-o-lanterns without pumpkins. toji joe’s is out of ‘em.”
there’s a peculiar lilt to his words—a faux positivity that makes you hesitate for a split second. but you move forward anyway.
the blustery air ruffles your clothes as you drift across the dark earth with law, searching for a pumpkin that isn’t in some state of decomposition. this is exactly the sort of scenario you hear about on your favorite podcasts and documentaries: a careless person accompanied by a man they barely know in a remote area, not so much as a whisper of nearby life on the wind.
all you really know about law is that he’s a handsome medical student who shares similar interests, namely in true crime and literature. that, and he had been unusually pushy about this outing.
“hey, that looks like a good one.” law points to a suitable carving prospect. crouching down to get a closer look, a gasp leaves your lips when you find a hole a few inches in diameter bored into the side of the pumpkin. what appears to have once been a pale cream fluid is now a flaky crust, caking the opening. “is that—”
“probably,” law cuts in, resting a cold, tattooed hand on your shoulder. startled, you nearly topple over, but his strong arms catch you and pull you to his chest. now standing, you jerk in his embrace; he releases his hold and you take a few steps back. “it’s one of kappa upsilon mu’s fall festival activities.”
it’s impossible to hide the disgust that furrows your brow and creeps into your voice. “they mutilate pumpkins and fuck them like fleshlights as a frat tradition?”
law shrugs. you swear you see a glimmer of humor flit through his amber irises. “it’s not even close to the weirdest thing they do. ever heard of a ‘cum fountain’?”
you hold up a hand to stop him. “i don’t even wanna know.”
but something isn’t adding up you think with a frown. “if you knew all the pumpkins were going to be cut up and…violated, why did you bring me here, law?” you tried to measure your words carefully, but now that they hang in the open, your accusation is evident.
your date’s lips curl into an ominous smirk. the familiar chill of dread nips at your heels and paws at your chest. “well,” law starts, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a switchblade. your eyes rivet on the tool—the weapon—as he fiddles with it, nimble fingers gliding along the handle before flicking it open with ease. his bored, yellow gaze unnerves you; his words ooze calculated confidence. “i’m gonna practice my carving skills with you.”
his statement rips the breath from your lungs. unsure of what to do, you chuckle uncomfortably, praying that he’s still talking about the goddamn pumpkins.
law edges closer to you, a hunter testing his prey. you don’t move—you don’t think you could if you tried. your mind is racing in countless directions, but you can’t settle on an action, a plan. and this freak—your date—is one small thrust of the blade from you, crowding your space. so you stare down the predator’s maw.
“you’re beautiful,” law states, though it doesn’t sound complimentary; it’s an observation. there’s a clinical coldness to his words that makes you feel like you’re trapped in a microscope slide. he gestures to you with the knife, the unspoken threat palpable.
“oh. um, th-thank you,” you stammer, eyes darting wildly, cornered prey.
you force yourself to think: how do you escape this fucker? you had to take a shitty taxi to get to the pumpkin patch, but the driver could barely keep the car in its lane and tried to proposition you for sex. is everyone in grimetown a slimeball? you don’t realize your nails are biting so deeply into the skin of your palms that blood is dripping onto the dirt.
as though he can read your thoughts, law says coolly, “i wouldn’t run if i were you.”
options dwindling, you remember your lifeline. slowly, you inch a hand toward your back pocket where your phone sits. but your opponent is perceptive; law cracks a wide smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, running his tongue across his sharp teeth. he raises the knife and presses the flat side of the blade against your neck.
it’s an effective warning.
“there’s no signal out here—the only cell provider that services grimetown is slime mobile. you can check, though, if it makes you feel better,” law taunts.
to your horror, your phone reads “no service” at the top of the screen. your skin itches, nerves buzzing with adrenaline. your hands shake, fear and rage coalescing into an unshakeable tremor that has sweat beading at your temples. hot tears of frustration singe your cheeks. but the cold steel of the blade against your throat saps the fight from your body.
your final resort?
“fuck you,” you hiss with all the venom you can muster. and, before you can stop yourself: ptui. you launch a glob of spit that lands squarely on law’s cheek, punctuating your insult.
law doesn’t flinch. rather, he swipes two calloused fingertips through your precious gift. he holds his wet digits up, admiring the glistening pads of his fingers, then pops them into his mouth. the groan he emits while enjoying your taste makes you lightheaded. he pivots his blade so that the honed tip scrapes an angry line up the column of your throat. the pressure isn’t enough to slice your flesh—yet.
you shriek when law forcefully grabs your jaw and pulls you to him. bruises in the shape of his fingers will bloom on your face tomorrow—if you live that long, anyway. for the first time, his wide grin crinkles his hawkish eyes.
his voice is thick with desire as he murmurs, “i’d like to fuck you first.”
#house of slimy horrors collab#the garden of earthly delights#kinktober 2023#trafalgar law x reader#law x reader#one piece x reader#༄ kae writes#law <3#grimetown#tw knifeplay#tw knife play#cw knifeplay#cw knife play
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-heaven-
aziraphale, bored: *drumming his fingers on his desk*
angel, carrying papers: here's some more files for you, your holiness
aziraphale, feigning interest: oh. more paperwork. excellent. riveting *pauses* what exactly are they for?
angel, confused: they're just old archive files from earth. I can get rid of them if you-
aziraphale: no, leave it with me. thank you
angel: *leaves*
aziraphale, disinterested: *flipping through the files*
aziraphale: *notices one of them is footage of the bookshop burning down*
aziraphale, hesitates: *plays the footage*
crowley, bursts into the bookshop, desperate: aziraphale! aziraphale, where the heaven are you, you idiot? I can't find you!
aziraphale: ...
crowley, tearful: you've gone. SOMEBODY KILLED MY BEST FRIEND. BASTARDS! ALL OF YOU!
aziraphale: *stops the footage*
-later, earth-
crowley, in his apartment: *drinking wine from the bottle*
aziraphale, appears in front of him, emotional: you ran into a burning building! why did you do that? you could have been hurt!
crowley, jumps out of his skin, spraying wine everywhere: what the fuck!
aziraphale, almost sobbing: is this an inappropriate time to kiss you?
crowley, clutching his heart, still recovering: a bit, yeah
aziraphale, nods: I understand. I'm sorry to bother you *turns to leave*
crowley, annoyed: hang on! that's it? you're just going to-
aziraphale: *kisses him*
crowley, shakes his head: took you long enough
aziraphale, smiles: how lucky I am that you're never going to bring it up again
crowley, scoffs: yeah, sure
aziraphale, happy: I can live with it *kisses him again*
#I would like to see aziraphale's reaction to seeing what happened after his discorporation#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#good omens#good omens 2#ineffable chatfics
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Mansuang Review:
Mansuang was amazing. I was particularly impressed by Apo's performance as Khem, which was emotional and complex and deeply moving. His story was riveting to me. I personally love characters with trauma in their backgrounds, who have been beaten down by the world into a certain way of thinking and behaving, and Apo captured that experience gracefully and expertly. There is palpable pain in his performance of the darkest moments. I will say that they could have expanded upon his character development a lot more. It would have been nice to have a bit more emotional nuance in his journey towards self-love and acceptance, but I definitely didn't feel unsatisfied by where his narrative ended up. The movie was already juggling so much they clearly just didn't have the time to dedicate to expanding upon the nitty gritty aspects of his healing.
I will say that I am honestly kinda surprised this didn't have any romance in it at all, because there is such a good foundation for it that it feels like they wasted? Like, Khem feeling that no one cares about him except for his body could have been the gateway to Chatra demonstrating care and affection for him outside of sex, proving that he's capable of being loved for who he is. That jumps out at me. That might have been an opportunity for them also to have expanded on Chatra's character, and given him more presence and personality. Khem is a protector, that's clear in the way he treats Wan, but he so often has to sacrifice himself in that role that it would have been devastatingly effective if Chatra had had an opportunity to take care of him in some way instead.
I loved the *bad touch* backstory, for whumping reasons, but it did leave me a little confused. Why did Khem have to have sex with those people? Was it because he's ambitious enough that he'll sell himself to advance his position? Was it because someone was forcing him to, like a boss or person in power? Was it because he felt he had no choice, or was protecting Wan from something? I just wish we could have gotten to know him better, because we get to see the impact of the trauma but we don't really get to understand it, and that leaves me wondering. It felt like, during the dance scene where Khem goes off script, that he did that as an attempt at seduction, because seduction is what he knows and what he expects. He's used to trading in on his beauty and sex appeal to get what he wants. That suggests so many characteristics to me that just... don't quite exist in the rest of the story. And there's no real conclusion to it other than Khem, at the end of the story, choosing to be a dancer because he's at peace with his place in society. Again, lots and lots of opportunities were built up that just didn't quite manage to hit a home run.
Mile did a fucking fantastic job with what he was given, but I was a little disappointed with his role in the story. I felt like the relationship between him and Khem was half-done and underdeveloped, but it had so much potential! He put in an absolutely solid performance, and knocked the emotional scenes out of the park, but I couldn't help but feel like he wasn't given the chance to really shine.
Tong killed it. Killed it fucking dead. That man has the screen presence of a King, which surprised the fuck out of me cos I thought he was a character actor based on his performance in KinnPorsche. But no, this guy has range. I was very impressed.
Bas did a great job playing a racist sad boy. RIP Wan.
In conclusion: a flawed movie, but still so enjoyable and so, so worth watching. I cannot fucking wait for Shine, I hope that it delivers in some of the areas Mansuang wasn't able to.
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Eris Vanserra
“This can end with you going under, begging me to get you out once that ice instantly refreezes. Or this can end with you agreeing to take my hand. But either way, you will be coming with me.”
“I’d forgotten why I was so relieved when our bargain fell apart the last time.”
“You didn’t think that I knew your shadowsinger would come sniffing around to see if I’d told my father about your … powers? Especially after my brothers so mysteriously forgot about them, too. I knew it was a matter of time before one of you arrived to take care of my memory as well. Too bad for you, I learned a thing or two about daemati. Too bad for my brothers that I never bothered to
teach them.”
“There were forces at work that you have never considered. And I am not going to waste my breath explaining them to you. Believe what you want about me.”
“I’m surprised you still can’t control yourself around him. You had every emotion written right on that pretty face of yours.”
“I wouldn’t have touched you. But when you fucked that other
bastard—I knew why you did it. So I gave you your freedom, ending the betrothal in no uncertain terms.”
“Pity you didn’t bring the other sister. I hear our little brother’s mate is quite the beauty.”
“Good to know that after five hundred years, you still dress like a slut.”
“Stick to fighting battles, General. Leave the ruling to those capable of playing the game.”
“Why shouldn’t I flatter myself with such thoughts? You flatter
yourself, thinking you’re more than a mongrel bastard.”
“Are you talking about me, or the brute beside you?”
“Let’s not lie to ourselves. You only bothered to contain two, by the
time your brute bloodlust ebbed away.”
“There were certainly more than that, and you could have
easily spared more than two. But I don’t know why I’d expect someone like you to have done any better.”
“Did you even try to spare the others, or did you just launch right into a massacre?”
“You’re a pretty little treat. I’d be happy to play any manner of game with you, Nesta Archeron.”
“When you get tired of the animal, come find me. I’ll show you how a future High Lord plays.”
“And as riveting as it was to see you send Tamlin
scrambling off with his tail between his legs, I didn’t see this side of you. The time since the war has changed you.”
“Certainly for the more interesting. It seems you came to play the game tonight after all.”
“Don’t believe the lies they tell you about me.”
“Indeed it is. Especially one who can both dance and tear the King of Hybern’s head from his shoulders.”
“You’re wasted at the Night Court. Absolutely wasted.”
“Go sit at your master’s feet, dog.”
“We’ll play later, Nesta Archeron.”
“Always mix truth and lies, General. Didn’t those warrior-brutes teach you about how to withstand an enemy’s torture?”
Eris Vanserra, High Lord of Autumn? More like High Lord of my bed.
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MY OPINION ON THE MOON SIGNS AS AN AQUARIUS MOON
Pisces Moon - I love you guys, I feel like I have the best and most philisophical conversation with y'all and in a way I feel like we are similar. Maybe it's because I'm a pisces sun, but I relate to the way y'all detach from things yet feel so deeply. I love how esoteric you guys are, but I also appreciate when the waters get rough and rowdy. You guys are so interesting and I have had some really great experiences with Pisces Moons. :)
Aquarius Moon - Love you, so much, Literally almost all of my friends are aqua moons LMAO Or have really strong aqua placements. I feel like Aquarius moons are just so unique and interesting and really have riveting takes and thought provoking ideas when it comes to emotional intelligence and dealing with trauma. Also you do not have to be the therapist friend!!! you deserve better. (SO LONG AS THEY ARE MATURE INDIVIDUALS)
Capricorn Moon - You guys get me fr, I feel like the bond between saturn moons is so positive. I honestly feel like y'all are such good friends and very uplifting, I wish you guys would prioritize yourself more and quit worrying about everyone else. You guys are so solid and deserve to have more people in your life who show the same energy and nurturing as you give. Ask for more balance, LOVE YOU.
Sag Moon - I love you guys, I feel like y'all are honestly so interesting but I do feel that there's a sense of aloofness or lacking in awareness of others. Then again, it's your life path and I respect the dedication y'all put towards defining yourselves. You guys are good uplifters and really honestly do a good job putting shit into perspective for me when I talk to and engage with y'all.
Scorpio Moon - My babies fr, you guys fall in my 4th house. I feel so comforted and seen by scorpio moons, like you guys just intrinsically understand who and what I am. I feel like y'all are so emotionally intelligent that sometimes people don't even see what you're seeing because you get right to the root of it all. You understand the people around you so deeply and I feel like people just don't understand y'all the way you understand them. (I felt that lmao)
Libra Moon - I LOVE Y'ALL I DON'T CARE WHAT ANYONE SAYS YOU GUYS ARE NOT FAKE TO THE PPL U LOVE. You guys are honestly real as fuck and when u care about someone fr u will not let them look dumb in public and also know how to pull the right public strings and get people to talk about what's bothering them. You guys are so lovely and have great senses of aesthetic and know how to take people's struggles in stride and maintain a balanced friendship <3
Virgo Moon - I love y'all even though you get on my nerves. I feel like you guys are honestly very sweet people at your core but you need to learn to relax and take a moment to breathe. It's like this constant feeling of dread you guys are internalizing and beating yourself over the head with. You guys have got to take a moment to chill out. Love yew though. I be feeling bad cuz y'alls mom's are fucking weird.
Leo Moon - I honestly truly fuck with y'all and I'm sorry people don't always see how actually intelligent and generous you guys are. I appreciate y'all and appreciate how you gys have taught me to be outright abot my needs and not to be afraid of being dramatic sometimes. I love y'all so much and I find y'all to be so endearing and lovely as individuals.
Cancer Moon - I cannot deal with y'all very well, like it goes well at first and then y'all get way too attached. You uys are mainly in my 12th house, I do appreciate how caring and lovely you can be though. I appreciate the more mature cancer moons I've met and how insightful, balanced, self preserving, and kind they are. I feel like y'all have ur issues glossed over way too much and just truly deserve better. I hate that people always try to shove you into a caretaker position. You guys deserve better fr.
Gemini Moon - I LOVE having deep talks with y'all I feel like y'all just have this fresh and interesting take on the psychology of people and such interesting ways of viewing emotions and communication I appreciate the artistry and beautiful minds of you guys. Some of my fav people are gemini moons, I wish you guys knew that it was okay to not rationalize everything you felt though. Not everything has to be so cut and dry and organized. It's okay to just be upset sometimes. love yew.
Taurus Moon - We don't always see eye to eye however I respect y'all and feel like y'all bring a lot to the table. You're steady, you do your best to be fair(ish), and you work hard for the shit you get. I aspire to be a little more grounded like you guys are. I feel like you could be less hard on yourself and others though. Sometimes it's okay to make mistakes.
Aries Moon - Like, I get it but some of y'all really need to shut the fuck up and relax. As for those of y'all who don't have emotional outbursts at everyone all the time. I love you, I adore your passion, your taste in aestheticism. You are the it girl, the moment, the baddest bitch in the universe. I appreciate your straight-forwardness and it brings me great joy. I also feel like y'all understand my need to constantly improve and do and seek and shit. (I have a 9H aries stellium lmao)
#astro#astro notes#astro observations#aries moon#taurus moon#gemini moon#cancer moon#leo moon#virgo moon#scorpio moon#sag moon#sagittarius moon#cap moon#capricorn moon#aqua moon#aquarius moon#pisces moon
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Some Slightly More Coherent Thoughts about Void Paradox
Riveting title, I know, but this is the quality content I'm sure... 50 of you signed up for? When the fuck...? How are there so many of you?? And in spite of that title, this post is still long as fuck
Anyways I finished Void Paradox and it sure made me feel a certain way. [Cut to footage of me literally screaming anytime Laurance showed emotion in the series]. Gotta say, as a long time Laurance fan, this is really nice to have. I've been going on my tirades about how Jess ruined Laurance for the sake of Aaron, and how Laurance never really bounced back from this character assassination, but I wasn't entirely right. He sort of bounced back?
Well, we got this. I still would have liked Laurance in Love-Love Paradise but I guess I'll take him in this series. And honestly, it's the best Laurance content I've gotten that isn't fan content since... well, since I first watched the show back in 2015 when I was a literal fetus. Every time after I've gone back and watched as Laurance got written poorly from honestly really early episodes sometimes (looking at you Episode 65), and had to deal with the unfortunate truth that he was essentially unimportant to the story Jess decided to tell with both her series, despite being the main character of one of them.
It's so refreshing to have quality Laurance content, and we got a variety of it in this show. He's so expressive, so alive, so emotional. I've always loved Laurance because surprise surprise, the men in my life weren't always the most emotionally vulnerable, so I latched onto fictional men who were as a coping mechanism! Yayyy! And Laurance has always been a very emotionally vulnerable character, at least in the beginning. It's part of the tragedy that is his character arc in Season 2. That Laurance is usually vulnerable, that he's the one who's always willing to talk about his emotions, but the calling is making it harder to open up, and the world has only become crueler to men like him who dare to feel too much.
Wow I just keep sliding into depressing content in this post, I'm trying to praise Laurance's writing in this series. Because it's good. I have my problems with Void Paradox as a whole, but as a showing for my favorite character in the entire Aphverse, a chance at redemption, it's fantastic. As I said Laurance is so expressive in this series, largely thanks to Sebastian Todd being an absolutely phenomenal voice actor who clearly knows and cares about this character. His performance is absolutely excellent and a great high note for this character to go off on.
I cannot emphasize how much I adore every little thing about Laurance's portrayal. The flirtiness, the smug bastard energy, the very sincere and open care, that one scene where he gets super embarrassed and then whimpers that I haven't listened to like eighteen times. The whole thing is great. His dynamic with this alternate version of Aphmau is so good, it's so great to see him bounce off of other characters. I just love it so much.
That scene where he realizes that he's in a similar scenario to the Nether and literally instantly jumps to "If it comes down to it, let me sacrifice myself," I SCREAMED AT THIS. The whole series whenever he angsts over his old world I scream, but that line really hit me. Fuck whatever you say about Laurmau in every universe, the universal truth of Laurmau, nay the universal truth of Laurance is this;
"I would sacrifice myself so you could live in every universe."
That's Laurance! That's Laurance with literally anyone you want!! This is the best characterization Laurance has ever gotten. It's consistent with his character, and I love the fact that Mod Aphmau doesn't even let him finish his consideration of self-sacrifice, she just shuts it down and it's a great contrast to what Laurance is used to. I adore how that's what he jumps to, I adore the fact that he's as clueless as I am about the lore this season, I love the rivals esque thing he's got going on with Jaiden, that was fun. Lotta potential there. This was just a good time. I cannot emphasize how delightful Laurance was in this series. How his delightful presence is the most enjoyable thing in the series, and a literal blessing unto us all.
Wasn't it nice to feel good about an Aphmau series for like.. two minutes. Anyways here's the part where I get a little salty with Jess, as per usual. I'm not going to go too in depth on my problems with Void Paradox as a story because it's mercifully short and a lot of my complaints did come from a standpoint of not knowing any of the lore of Mod Mod World which might have hindered my full ability to understand the larger story.
I can however get VERY salty about the fact that I didn't even know Void Paradox was a thing that had Laurance in it until 2024!! It came out in 2018! How did this happen? Well the answer is very simple, the cause is the bane of my very existence. My Street Season 6 When Angels Fall. [I am shaking with rage]
I know you've likely read how much I can tear into season 2 Episode 95, and oh my Irene can I tear into that episode, but there's a similar but differently visceral emotion When Angels Fall makes me feel. Let's call it a sort of divine rage. And now, I have one more reason to hate it. Because Void Paradox, a series with actual quality content, was released at the same time as whatever the fuck that was, meaning it never had a chance.
For a bit of personal context, I briefly became active in the Aphmau fanbase when this season came out and during the time leading up to it. I had seen every season of My Street, and despite not being the biggest fan of where Jess took the series, I liked a lot of the characters and was invested in where they would go from here. I was knee deep in the My Street trenches when the many many different bombs dropped. Melissa dying but then she didn't but maybe she did and I literally spent hours arguing with people on this, Ein is turning everyone evil, there's a doomsday device, forever potion nonsense is happening, Travis' dad is evil maybe, Aaron is going insane, the multiverse is falling apart, and then Jess just killed the best character in the entire series, dare I say the entire Aphverse, dare I say the entire universe of existence as we know it--
It was a lot. And in all the chaos Void Paradox just... came out. It came out right before episode 9 of When Angels Fall came out. And anyone else who was there during the war... they know what that episode did to us. What it did to me. I wasn't the same after that episode came out. I felt like I had lost a part of myself. Something I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to get back...
And as a result, I and a lot of people didn't see Void Paradox. Looking at the numbers, Void Paradox struggled to get above 1 million viewers for most episodes, while the lowest viewed episode of When Angels Fall sits at a cozy 2.9 million as an established series. Void Paradox is objectively better as a series and deserves to have a second season. We deserve to explore more of the weird ideas Jess clearly had while making it, we deserve to know if a cure can be found, and we, or maybe just me and I'm feeling selfish here, deserve to know if Laurance is okay.
Jess has already taken one comfort character away from me. I'll be damned if she takes another.
#text post#aphmau#i dont support aphmau#fuck aphmau#minecraft diaries#laurance zvahl#aphblr#aphverse#minecraft diaries laurance#my street#when angels fall#void paradox#discussion post#rant post#god i hate jess#never forgiving her#season 6 episode 9 can fuck off#fuck that episode#my street blaze#my beloved#mod mod world
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ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ
Pairing: MCU!Riri Williams x Black!Masc!Reader
Genre: Fic
Synopsis: In which you can’t believe anyone ever truly falls in love with you, until Riri Williams attempts to show you otherwise.
Warnings: mentions of severe anxiety, very bad breakups, cursing, an unspecified situationship between reader and Riri, use of cannabis and other herbs for smoking, mentions of domestic abuse
A/N: In this fic, the reader has severe anxiety and mania that causes her emotions to become too overwhelming to control; therefore she uses cannabis to dull her emotions to a tolerable level. Songs to listen to while reading: Halsey’s “Sorry”, Chase Atlantic’s “I THINK I’M LOST AGAIN”, Ella Mai’s “Trip, Lul Sis’s “I Remember”, SZA’s “Shirt” & “Special”
Tags: @inmyheadimobsessed @verachii @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @rxcently @chrome-edition @liv444me @yvxmpire @hippiedippyshit @secretgyals
Up until a year ago, the only thing you could depend on was your music and a blunt.
It’s a riveting story, really, of how you became acquainted with the cannabis-filled paper roll. A bundle of contentment your first ex introduced you to. The only thing you had control of in that relationship, and the only thing you took from it. A young, naive sixteen year old desperate for affection, who fell into the trap of an eighteen year old who only cared for self satisfaction. But what better could you have known?
And now you stare at the blunt between your fingers, with the base of your car turned to the max and the speakers blasting whatever song you had on your playlist, watching the red ring around the end inch closer and closer to your skin. If it was bad day, you’d let it reach your fingers, allowing the embers of the blunt to burn into the tip of your thumb and forefinger as they’ve done before. The sting of it is far more satisfying than the sting your lungs took with every pull of the brown little stub.
But you’re too conscious to let it happen. That, and you have company coming.
There’s a loud knocking on your tinted car windows, the perpetrator none other than Riri Williams. You can’t hear what she’s shouting, but you're sure it’s something about how you need to open the car door because it’s cold as shit outside.
Your unlock the passenger door and turn down the music to a tolerable level - Riri never liked it when you played your music loud - and turn up the heat for the passenger side of the car. The engineer sports some black sweatpants, a pastel blue crop top, and her black bubble winter jacket that’s overly shiny and plastic-y in texture. Despite the many times you’ve offered to buy her another, warmer, less annoying coat, she refuses. ‘She still has a year or two left in her!’ She’d whine.
“I don’t know why the fuck,” she starts, as she fiddles with the zipper on the cropped bubble coat in an attempt to get it off, “you got me waiting outside,” and at this point, you’ve already reached onto the back seat and grabbed your hoodie, the only one of yours she’ll ever wear because, of course, it’s your favorite one, and it’s just big enough for her, “and it’s cold as fuck outside!”
Once her coat is off and tossed into the back seat, she all but snatches the soft hoodie from your hand and tugs it over her upper half. “Manners much, lil’ girl?”
“Shut the fuck up and get to drivin’,” Riri shoots back, tugging on the strings of the hood of your sweater, closing it tight until only her eyes and nose are visible. She’s even chucked her Ugg boots off, opting to tucking her feet under herself, practically sitting criss-cross in the passenger seat.
“Where the hell am I even goin’?” You retort, starting the engine to your car, “You just called me and said pull up, ain’t tell me shit ‘bout nothin’ else!”
“To Navy Pier!” Riri responds, “The fireworks are tonight, remember?”
“No, I don’t remember, ‘cus you ain’t tell me nothin’!”
The bickering between you two could last for ages, but apparently, Riri was stretched for time, and she was also hungry, and a hungry Riri was not a fun Riri.
“Okay, fine, sorry, but we gotta go! They start in like forty-five minutes and traffic’s already shit!” She whines, tugging on your arm like a toddler begging for candy. You roll your eyes, playfully of course, as you pull out of the parking spot and start driving down the road.
“Have you even eaten yet, while you in here barking demands ‘nd shit?” You ask, your free hand instinctively going to rest on the cushion of her thigh, your thumb softly kneading into it. Glancing out of the corner of your eye, you see she’s busying herself by connecting her phone to your car’s Bluetooth feature. No doubt she’s about to turn on some Summer Walker or SZA, as she’s been listening to those two artists a lot as of recent.
“Uhh…” her voice trailing off is enough of an answer for you, and as you pull up to an intersection, instead of turning left which would have taken you to the expressway, you turn right - right into the McDonald’s that sits on the corner.
Of course, Riri is groaning about how you’re gonna be late for the fireworks show, but you’d rather deal with her being upset over that then her being upset because she’s hungry. Only one of those is actually tolerable.
“Shut up, you’re the one that can’t seem to feed yourself,” You scold the other girl as you pull up to the drive through. You recite to the person over the intercom your orders - a ten piece chicken nugget meal for the engineer in your passenger seat, and for you just a fry and a drink.
“It’s not my fault!” Riri protests as you pull up to the payment window, handing the fast food worker your card. “Really? How come it ain’t then?”
And in the few minutes that Riri finds herself trying to come up with a lie to satisfy your scolding eyes, your order is ready. You place her bag of food in her lap, yours in your own, and your drinks in the cup holders.
You notice quickly the silence that befalls the car once you’ve pulled off from the restaurant, to which you peer over to Riri in the passenger seat. “Keep talking, I’m listening,” you say.
Riri looks up from the bag she’s fiddling with, trying to fish out a few fries to satisfy her growling stomach until you both get to the pier. “Right- Um, so I was workin’ on this AI thing - uh, artificial intelligence; think of it like a computer that can talk back you-”
“So, like, a robot…?”
“Just shut up and listen!”
Soon enough you’d pulled into an empty parking lot by the lakefront, close enough to the pier so that you’d be able to see the fireworks at a good proximity. It was a cheap alternative to having to pay to get into the show itself, plus it made for better intimacy.
You and Riri sat in the back seat of the car, allowing more room for comfort. She’s put on one of her playlists - there was a song by H.E.R. playing low on the speakers - and you had a fresh blunt in hand. The window on your side was cracked a little to allow the smoke to escape and not cloud in Riri’s face, and despite her occasional complaints of the chilly wind that would pass through, she knew it was necessary.
She’s cuddled up to you; her arms wrapped around your own as she took interest in the tattoo sleeve that riddled your arm. Different designs, multiple lines to trace, the stories they held.
The reason why they were there.
Your mind begins to muddle once more as you take another drag from your blunt, the sting in your lungs the only thing telling you that you were alive, that you were capable of feeling. That, and the dull feeling of Riri’s acrylics tracing your skin, intrigued.
“Y’know, you never told me exactly why you got these,” She mutters.
Your hand, which held Riri’s legs over your lap, with your thumb which kneaded into the meat of her calf, stopped in its motion.
“Just wanted somethin’ different,” You muuttered, taking another pull from your blunt.
“Nah, i’on believe that,” Riri replied, as she started tracing a particular part of your arm. “You have a reason for everything.”
Your chest became tight as she continued to poke and prod at that one spot, intrigued by the design chosen to take its place. “Damn, this must’ve hurt.”
The tattoo, no. But the scar under it? It still left a mark only visible to you. And the pain from it never truly left you.
“Stop fucking throwing shit at me!”
You’re sure the neighbors could hear your pleas, but whether they cared enough or not to call the police for you, you wouldn’t know.
“Why the fuck were you with her!?”
You stood behind the couch, your only defense as you refused to lay a hand on your ex. She stood on the other side with a deranged look in her eyes, a look you’d never seen before. You’d never have thought that her jealousy to reach this feat.
At first, you found it endearing. Her possessiveness, the need to let others know that you were hers. It made you feel wanted, loved.
But as she stands across from you, enraged at the fact that you spent the afternoon with your cousin, the one you had told her about numerous times, the one she even met, the one you had told her you had plans of seeing her this weekend when she got into town, opened your eyes for what it truly was.
Your ex was, for lack of better words, psychotic.
“That was my fucking cousin! The one I been told you about!” You shouted back at her. “You fucking met her a couple months ago!”
“Oh, sure, your fucking cousin!” The woman shrieks as she chucks another random object in her vicinity towards you. You managed to block it with your arms, but the second it took to distract with it, the woman made a dash for you. There was something else in her hand now - a much more sinister weapon.
A pocket knife.
“Baby, baby please,” You begged as your ex inched closer and closer to you, ready to strike. You still refused to defend yourself physically, not if it meant you had to hurt her in the process. “Put the fucking knife down- just listen to me-”
There was a shriek, which followed a hard thud on the floor, which was now painted in your blood.
You hurriedly snatched your hand away from Riri’s prying ones, and in an attempt to keep your cool, opted to drape it around her shoulders instead. It brung her closer to you, so she didn’t complain, but the suddenness of the action left her with questions.
“That is the reason. Just wanted somethin’ different.” You reiterated, dragging out another pull from your blunt. It was a deeper inhale than the others before, which made your lungs sting even more, but you needed to forget.
You needed to forget that night. It made you feel too much. And right now, You didn’t want to feel anything. You couldn’t bear to feel anything. You just…couldn’t.
“Hey,” Riri’s voice sounded, as she looks up at you from your side, “It’s me, (Y/N). You know you can talk to me.”
Her words made you look down at her. And for a moment, you consider it. You consider telling her the origins of your sleeve, the origins on most of the tattoos that littered your body. Maybe that would alleviate some of the overwhelming pressure that sat heavy in your chest, in your heart. But the very thought of it had your chest closing in, your eyes prickling with tears, and your body trembling. The thought of remembering it all, reliving it all, feeling everything, everywhere, all at once. It was too much to bear, too much, too much, too much-
Without thinking, your blunt meets your lips again, and the sweet sting to your lungs and the fog that muddles your brain calms your heartbeat. You look at Riri and sigh, turning back to the lightshow before you.
“Maybe next time, Ri,” you murmur, your free hand going back to massaging her legs. You feel her body relax into you. You wish yours could do the same.
“You wanted to talk?”
Up until a year ago, the only thing you could depend on was your music and a blunt.
Until Riri Williams came into your life.
It was interesting, really, the story of how you two met. Having taken interest in one another at a park all those months ago, you two became fast friends. From late night drives to fast food runs, to even helping her raid junkyards for her engineering projects, you two would do almost everything together.
Until one night, when an alcohol-influenced kiss changed the course of everything.
“Yeah,” you reply, busying yourself around your kitchen, trying to act like you were preparing some semblance of a breakfast for yourself. As much as you got on Riri for not eating, you didn’t need the same lecture returned to you. At least, not today.
“Was just gonna tell you I probably won’t be on my phone that much,” you add on, pausing your fiddling to direct all your attention onto the small frame of your phone, where a sleepy Riri currently was pictured.
Damn, she was cute. The way her eyes were half-lidded, riddled with sleep; the way her short bob-length butterfly locks framed her face; the realization that she had another one of your hoodies that she wore to bed. This girl was depleting your hoodie collection, and you didn’t like that.
Frankly, there were a lot of things Riri did to you that you didn’t like. But they never stopped you from coming back to her.
“Is that my hoodie, lil’ girl?” You question with a raised eyebrow, to which the girl on the other releases a small hum in response.
“Mmm, no…” Riri replies, but you know it’s a lie. She does too, which is why she’s trying to cover herself up with her blanket.
“Yeah, okay,” because there was no way you were getting her to admit she stole one of your hoodies again, but at least you knew it was somewhere safe and in good use.
“Did you hear me, ma?”
“Mhm…”
“Ri, what did i say?”
“You not gon’ be on your phone, I heard you.”
“Aight. I’ll call you tonight, let you know what’s up, okay?”
“Mhm…”
There was no use in getting any real words out of Riri this early in the morning, so you just took her word for it and bid her farewell. The engineer said her goodbyes in possibly the softest, sweetest tone you’d ever heard from her. It made your heart hurt to hang up on her, but you knew that it was better this way.
Your head had been a mess lately. It gets bad like this whenever certain months of the year come around. These particular months, your body has associated with the horrible exes that plagued your existence, and the horrible things they’ve done to you.
Of course Riri knew of your exes - though much sooner than what you had intended on. She had did something to accidentally triggered you and it sent you into a spiral of heavy breathing and cursing, lashing out at the girl unintentionally. To this day, it’s one of the things you heavily regret happening to her. You’d never raised your voice at Riri, never once shied away from her touch or spoke to her in a disrespectful manner. But that night, too much was happening all at once, and her saying the word ‘stupid’ in your general vicinity was what caused everything to spill out.
Though you shouldn’t, another memory protrudes your thoughts, unwelcomed, of the ex that ruined your sense of self.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
It’s a question you didn’t care to answer, as the answer to it had been said numerous times before. And frankly, you weren’t in the mood to argue.
“...so you just not gon’ respond to me?”
“I told you already. Dinner party for my grandma.”
“You ain’t say shit about your grandma, (Y/N),”
You turn away from the mirror to face the woman on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on her phone, somehow finding the concentration to do that and try to start an argument with you. Which you’ve done your best to avoid, but knowing her, she’d pick something small to blow up over.
“I very much did. And I’m not about to argue with you about this. I’m trying to enjoy the night with my grandma, and I refuse to have it ruined.”
“Oh, so I’m spoiling your mood now?”
Fuck, you fell for it. A sigh pushes its way through your lips as you make your way to the edge of the bed to grab your phone and keys.
She was muttering under her breath and you honestly couldn’t care to react to her right now. Your mind was on your family dinner, and you wanted to at least look a little happy when you greeted your grandmother. But she was making it very difficult to be passive.
“You not even listening to me! This the stupid ass shit I’m talking about, I’m tryna talk to you and you just walking away.”
By this point, you’d made it to the living room of your apartment, sitting on the bench at the foyer to lace up your boots you chose to wear for the evening. And yet, the woman beside you would not stop her taunting.
“You know, you lucky I put up with your bullshit. You’re so fucking stupid you don’t even realize I can leave right out this bitch and not come back! Then who you gon’ call when you need somebody? Cuz it sure as fuck wont be me-”
“Then leave.”
“Excuse me?”
As your putting on your coat, stuffing the pockets with your necessities - phone, wallet, keys - you turn to look at the woman who had been shouting obscenities at you since you woke up this morning.
“If I’m such a horrible girlfriend who can't seem to satisfy you, why are you still here?”
“Well, obviously, because I fucking love you, you dumbass!”
“Nah, you don’t love me,” you replied, twisting the knob to the front door, “You love what I can do for you. But I’m done with your shit.”
“Who do you think you’re talking to-”
“I’m serious this time. I’m done. I’m tired of it, and I’m done.”
And the door closes on another relationship as you exit your apartment. But in an effort to put on a strong face for your grandmother, you suck up the tears, and walk down the stairs to your car.
The surround sound in your living room now blasts SZA, an artist you never thought you’d catch yourself listening to, but due to your consistent presence around Riri, the genre of music rubbed off on you.
It’s a song called ‘Shirt’, with a hypnotic base and lyrics that you’ve been relating to all too much these past few days. Especially when you find yourself reopening a text message from a number you should have long deleted.
“I miss you, baby. I know I did you wrong, but I’m ready for us again. Can we please talk? I know you still have my number. I love you <3”
You replace your phone with a new blunt, a sigh escaping your lips. After lighting the dark green-ish roll, you lean back into the comfort of your couch. Yet, you don’t take a drag from the joint. You just watch the light red embers around the rim of the blunt slowly burn down it’s length. You let the music consume you, with the base so powerful it influences the beat of your heart, and the lyrics hitting too close to home.
With an intake of air, you allow the music, and your emotions, to consume you.
“Riri, I do not know about this…”
“Relax, it’ll be fine, I’ll tell her before she gets too upset.”
Shuri’s concern fell on deaf ears as Riri was finding a hiding place for the pack of blunts in her hand. Though she knew she’d probably get a talking to for her little stunt, the opportunity was too good to pass up.
Riri had been staying at your apartment for the weekend since her mother was out of town, and with the engineer not wanting to be alone in her mothers absence, you allowed her to come over. You were comfortable enough with Riri to let her into your space, to which she was greatly appreciative of. Though your home was a great contrast to the childhood bungalow she grew up in, with it’s modern grey finishes, black appliances, and overall sleek look, there was a warm and welcoming feel to it. Riri was surprised to feel so welcomed, being that it was her first time coming over to your place since the two of you started talking.
“Those TikTok trends will get you in trouble, friend,” Shuri says, the sigh in her voice audible through the cellular device. “If she is as dependent on those cannabis-rolls as you describe, I do not think hiding her source of sanity will be a good idea for a prank.”
“Oh my god, for once please say blunts. I’m begging you, for my own sake,”
“I cannot! It does not sound right!”
“And neither do cannabis-rolls, it sounds like cinnamon rolls’ suspicious cousin!”
“You just refuse to listen to reason, don’t you?”
Riri was silent on her hand, though Shuri could hear small grunts, of which she assumed to be because the other scientist had finally found a place worthy of hiding the pack of blunts.
“She won’t be too mad. She can’t stay at me, she never does. Imma just tell her where they are before she gets too upset, and all will be good!”
“...and that is how you tell her you love her? By hiding something important of hers? My, you Americans have a very weird way of showing affection.”
Riri scoffed at Shuri’s accusation, rolling her eyes as she returned to her place on the couch in the living room. “First of all, miss ma’am, it’s called having a bit of fun! I’ve got it under control.”
That wasn’t an entire lie. Riri had a good understanding of your behaviors and actions - at least, she thought she did - and while she didn’t take advantage of the soft spot you had for her, she did have a habit of letting her intrusive thoughts get the better of her. There was no telling how this would play out, but Riri was ever the optimist, and was sure that nothing would get too out of hand.
“And don’t be talking like you ain’t got no lil’ boo thang you don’t get weird around! I be seeing how you look at your phone on Facetime.~”
Before Shuri could respond to Riri’s incredulous accusation, the sound of the front door opening caught the attention of the two genius women. Riri whispered a quick goodbye to the Wakandan royal before quickly hanging up her phone, taking a laying position on the couch, and pretended to be surfing Netflix as you came back into the apartment.
“You know you’re expensive as shit, lil’ girl.” You huff, as you plop down the bags of food on the coffee table before Riri. She had purposefully sent you to get seafood so that she would have enough time to scour your home and get familiar with the place, as well as to plan out her prank. And maybe because she wanted some seafood as well. She knew the effect of her puppy dog eyes on you, and it worked every single time.
She feigned a gasp as she sat up, a smile from ear to ear plastering itself on her face. “Aww, you do love me!”
Riri watches as you head into the kitchen to get some additional utensils. Now all that was left was to play the waiting game.
Since your return, things had been chill. Riri had put on a Disney movie and the two of you dug right into your food. That, however, was two hours ago, and its just now that you decide to leave the living room to go to your room, for what Riri assumed was your blunts. And when you came back out with a weird look on your face, the engineer knew that the real clock had just started.
From then, Riri could tell you weren’t really focusing on the next movie being played. Your eyes may have physically been on the screen, but your mind wasn’t there. Three hours in, your knee began shaking, whether it was out of frustration or just as a form of stimulus, Riri couldn’t quite tell.
Four hours in, and Riri started to notice how you were creating more and more distance from her. She had been giving Shuri the play by play at this point, to which the Wakandan Royal was already preparing her ‘I told you so’s to the young engineer. You went back into your room again, this time for longer. Riri knew that you now knew your joints were missing from your nightstand. She could hear the rustling and movement of objects from your room. Anxiety began to pool in her stomach. Though determined to see things through to the end, she’d sat her phone up in a position she thought not so visible to record the interaction.
At this point, five hours had passed, and you were becoming noticeably restless. Not having the one thing that could keep you calm and collected around Riri was driving you insane. You knew you put your blunts on your nightstand, you had pre-rolled them before you went to pick Riri up from her house that afternoon. You were certain that they were there when you left, and the fact that they weren’t made your anxiety spike.
“Riri!” You called from your room, actively breathing in and out to try and ground yourself from the tightness that was forming in your chest.
Riri jumped a bit when you called her name. It was loud, and uncommon for your voice to be at that volume. “Y-Yeah?”
Riri saw you come out of your room, and your entire demeanor has changed. Riri had only ever known you to be this cool, stoic person, who always had a handle on things. Besides that one night where she accidentally triggered you, this was the first time she’s seen you so…rigged.
“Did you see a pack of blunts anywhere?”
Maybe Shuri was right, Riri thought, as now there was guilt also pooling in her stomach from the sight of you agitated.
“No…no I don’t think so-”
You barely gave her enough time to respond before you started searching the television stand. Perhaps you had moved it last minute, you thought, but the surface of the furniture gave away no clues. You then made a beeline for the kitchen, thinking that maybe you could have misplaced the pack there when grabbing your keys off the countertop.
Riri got up from the couch, approaching your searching figure. “It ain’t too late, maybe call your plug or somethin’?”
The utensils drawer you let go of closed a bit too loudly, at least, louder than Riri had expected.
“My plug is out of town,” you told her, exiting the kitchen via the other side of the island that rested in the middle. Your next target of search was the couch - maybe it had slipped between the cushion, “he won’t be back ‘til tomorrow, and those were the last two blunts i had till then.”
Damn. Riri fucked up.
Throughout your search the engineer could tell how visibly worked up you were becoming. Agitation in the way that you walked, anxiousness in your voice. And then your next words brought absolute dread to Riri.
“Why is your phone sat up like that?”
Shit. She was caught.
“Uhm…”
“Ri, are you fucking with me right now?”
Riri didn’t like the tone in your voice. It was a tone you never held with her. One of anger, and hurt. “Are you tryna play a fucking prank on me?”
“Okay, okay, okay, before you get mad-”
“Riri, I’m not gon’ ask you again-”
“I was just tryna be funny-”
“Where is my shit, Riri?”
Your words had begun to overlap, and nothing the two of you were speaking were reaching each others ears. Quite frankly, you were hurt. You didn’t think Riri of all people would pull something like this. It didn’t take a genius to know that you smoked for a reason, and the reason being to cope. A stranger could have put two and two together, what could have motivated Riri to do something so careless and inconsiderate?
At some point in your word exchange, Riri became less sorry and more upset, defensive. “It ain’t like you’ll die without them, (Y/N),” she scoffed, and her words made you suck your teeth in annoyance.
“Because you don’t understand, Ri-”
“What do you mean, ‘I don’t understand’-”
“-just tell me where my shit is!-”
“-naw, tell me what I don’t understand, (Y/N)! You don’t talk to me enough to understand shit!”
“Why can’t you just tell me where my blunts are! What the fuck is so hard about that!?”
“I’ll tell you when you tell me what the fuck I don’t understand, (Y/N)-”
All of a sudden, a loud crash broke the yelling match that your exchange had broken into. It happened too fast for you to register, but the broken vase that laid on your floor next to your feet spoke enough volumes that your voice could not convey.
“You wanna know what you don’t fucking understand, Ri?!” The volume in your voice caused the other woman to go quiet, a lump forming her throat.
“You don��t understand that I love you, okay? I love you, but I can’t love you, and I can’t love you because I love you-”
There was a pause in your outburst, and when Riri went to open her mouth and release an involuntary ‘what’, you cut her off.
“You make me feel shit that I can’t fucking deal with- I can’t deal with it, cuz I don’t know how! You do little shit, and-and part of me wants to let that shit in but I can’t! Cuz ain’t nobody every do the shit you do to me, make me feel the way you make me feel! All I fucking know is hurt, and pain, and mu’fuckers never doin’ right by me, and you fucking know that! And it’s too much for me to comprehend, too much for me to fucking feel and the only way I can deal with it is with my fucking weed!”
To say that Riri was shocked was an understatement. The guilt that she was feeling was stronger than anything she had ever felt before. Of course, her intentions were never to hurt you or to cause you to have another meltdown, but her actions and language had said otherwise. She had truly fucked up.
“So please, for the last fucking time, just tell me where my shit is, Ri!”
There was a long silence that followed after that. Riri could not look at you, too riddled with guilt to face you head on. And for the first time since your outburst, you noticed just how small and closed in she made herself.
“....behind your game…in the tv stand cabinet…” her voice came out small, meek, as she forced herself to speak and give you the directions to the hidden pack of blunts.
Within the second, you’d went back to the TV stand, retrieved your blunt packets, and Riri heard your footsteps trail off into the distance. Her body flinched as you slammed the front door behind you, leaving Riri to stand alone in the living room in a deafening silence from the mess she created.
Half an hour had passed with you outside, but you could care less about the concept of time. The cold had since penetrated your thin hoodie, but it was a while before your skin could actually feel it, as you were still heated from your argument with Riri. Now that you were in a rational state of mind - as rational as one could be with their mind muddled with cannabis - you replayed the exchange like a loop in your head. The things you did, the words you said.
You’d laid everything bare, and not in the way that you wanted to.
You took a drag from your blunt, your lungs oddly welcoming the sting that accompanied the intake of smoke. Having not smoked at all that day, the thought of it being fresh air to you was ironic, especially with the crisp winter breeze that was competing with the cannabis smoke for room in your lungs. Your head found refuge in your hands, struggling to hold back the tears you desperately wanted to cry, but the voice in your head told you to hold in. The same voice that told you to uphold this stoic persona for protection, and yet, you think it’s actually hurt you more than anything else.
The front door to your apartment building opens behind you as you sit on the steps. While there’s no snow on the ground, there's a light flurry of snowflakes swirling in the wind.
Riri is behind you, hesitant, with a blanket wrapped around her, but big enough for the both of you.
“It’s cold out here,” she speaks, though not confidently like usually, as she slowly approaches your sitting form. When she sees she meets no resistance, she chooses to sit next to you, albeit keeping a slight space between the two of you. She drapes the blanket around your shoulders, and although you don’t show much of a response, she hopes that you’re thankful for the added layer of protection against the cold.
“I’m….I’m sorry, (Y/N)...” Riri confesses. “It was just supposed to be a joke, I didn’t-...I didn’t think shit through…shouldn’t have done it in the first place…”
Without a word, you stood up, letting the blanket fall onto the place you once sat. Your feet took you a few feet away from the staircase of the brownstone apartment building, smoke escaping from your lips as you took another pull of your blunt.
Riri stood up as well, taking the discarded part of the blanket and wrapping it back around herself. “I know I said some shit I shouldn’t have said, okay? It was stupid- I was stupid, and I’m sorry, okay…can you please say something?”
What could you say? What did you want to say? A moment of silence passed before you turned your body to face the engineer that stood on the steps.
She looked beautiful. The snowflakes that made a home in her butterfly locs, her pink nose becoming even more rosy from the cold. A simple appearance to anyone else, but absolutely ethereal to you. It made your chest hurt.
“I’mma be real with you, Ri,” you began, twirling the blunt in your hands with a sigh, “I don’t know what you see in me.”
It was true; till this day you still had no clue why the engineer was even attracted to you. Physical appearance could only go so far, and after a year of talking, what could you had possibly given to Riri for her to like?
“I’m a fucking mess. I can’t even think without a blunt in my hands. I can’t love myself; love is a concept that’s been fucked up for me for the longest…I feel fucking broken because I can’t return the simplest of affection to you, when you do it like it’s nothin’...what could I have possibly given to you for you to stick around for a year and not get tired of me and my bullshit?”
You hadn’t realized that Riri had moved from her position on the steps, and was now in front of you. The engineer reached for your free hand, holding it close to her chest. You could feel her heartbeat, the muscle pounding furiously in her chest.
“It ain’t bullshit, (Y/N),” She starts, and your immediate reaction is to scoff but the eye contact that she holds with you is so unmoving, your body forgets about the action, “and you’re not broken…you’re hurt. And I hate the bitches that did this shit to you, made you think this way, because you’re not, do you hear me?”
Her words create a tightness in your throat, and now, there’s a wetness on your face that isn’t coming from the snowflakes that land on your cheeks.
“I love you…I love you because I know deep down under all that hurt, and pain, and wanting to hide, and being scared of love…there’s a heart in there. Its hiding because it don’t want shit to repeat, but I promise you, if you let me have it…if you let me have your heart…I can make all that go away.”
It was a tempting offer, really. One that you’d kill to hear over and over and over again, but Riri gave it to you without even having to ask. It made you wonder just how much had she given to you, and you were to busy shielding yourself to realize it?
“...you mean that?”
“Would I be out here in the freezin’ fucking cold with you if I didn’t?”
Her words brought some semblance of a laugh from your lips. Your hand began to move on its own - you watched as it broke free from Riri’s hands and instead went to caress her face. It was a small act of affection, but for you it was something incredibly big and hard to do. Yet, there wasn’t a strain in your actions, nor hesitancy. It felt…right.
Your gaze went between the blunt in one hand, and Riri who occupied the other. Gulping down the lump in your throat, your gaze refocused back onto Riri, staring right into her chocolate brown eyes.
“I’m about to do something,” You said, “I’m about to do something, and it’s been a long time since I did it, and-”
“Baby,” Riri interjects, and the pet name she uses for you sent a wave of shivers throughout your body. You couldn’t remember the last time that happened to you. “You ain’t gotta tell me…just do it.”
Your gaze went back to the blunt in your hands, burning away, the smoke from it easily getting lost in the wind. With a deep breath, you tossed the joint onto the concrete ground beneath you, take Riri’s face into both your hands, and brung her in for a kiss you waited a year too long to give her.
Up until a year ago, the only thing you could rely on was your music and a blunt.
But as you stand in the December snow, kissing the woman who you’d been too afraid to give your heart to, a realization comes to you.
The realization that maybe, you could open your heart once more. Maybe you could depend on Riri Williams, too.
If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!
#black reader#black tumblr#black marvel#marvel#marvel comics#marvel cinematic universe#mcu#marvel x black!reader#marvel x reader#mcu x reader#mcu x black!reader#mcu riri williams#marvel riri williams#riri williams mcu#riri williams marvel#riri#riri williams#riri x black!reader#riri x reader#riri williams x black!reader#ironheart x reader#ironheart#ironheart x black!reader#marvel ironheart#mcu ironheart#riri williams x reader
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» 𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕖𝕒 𝕤𝕟𝕖𝕒𝕜 𝕡𝕖𝕖𝕜
placed third in the wip poll but not in my heart is river lea. a song fic that made me realize this song is jake seresin personified. this is also one of my rare tries at an oc, in the form of delia rivers.
“I’m sorry I approached you, I never meant to give you false hope of taking me home.”
Jake was bursting at the seams. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head as she talked, voice so level, so calm, so fucking honest… Jesus, it was riveting.
“You’re sorry? And what made you change your mind? I could be a nice way to pass your night.” the flirty drawl was long gone, and in its place a genuine curiosity, and perhaps even a slight hint of needing to prove himself. Needing to be the best. For everyone.
A shocked laugh spilled from parted lips, and Delia shook her head with a smile as it subsided “You scared me.” Jake’s jaw slackened in surprise, jerking his head slightly backwards with deeply furrowed brows - confusion written all over the place. Never had a woman said that she was scared of him.
“I scared you? Delia… I am sorry, why didn’t you say so? I would’ve left you alone I–”
“No! No… Scared might be the wrong word... Perhaps intimidated is better suited,” she hedged for a short moment, uncertain if she should keep going “I realized I could never handle you, could never be what you are looking for tonight.”
“And again, what am I looking for tonight?”
“Someone to soothe the ache.”
It was so simple. Jake blinked several times, and it felt as if she had punched the air right out of his lungs. Nobody had ever… how had she–? Jake knew he guarded his emotions well, and tonight had been no different. Another night, another darts competition, another–
“And I… don’t think I can be that for you tonight.” Not without wanting more.
It felt as if the static of a faraway radio was buzzing in Jake’s ears, tuned in to the channel his mother would have on on Sunday mornings as she rose to make coffee for her husband. Wiping tears if he hadn’t come home that night. Poorly hiding them behind a weak smile when her son came down for breakfast. Shaking his head, he pulled a deep breath, shoulders tensing again, jaw clenched…
He needed to run.
#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin x oc#jake hangman seresin x oc#hangman x oc#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin imagine#hangman imagine#my writing#hangman sneak peek#wip poll game
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i saw your smut challenge and i couldn’t help but want to request- can i have soft teasing din djarin x afab reader w number 1? 🫣
It Feels Like Love
Day 1 of Seven Nights Of Sin - Series Three
Pairing: Din Djarin x afab!reader
Prompt: #1 - I want to taste you.
Word Count: 3.4K. It was supposed to be smaller but I have no restraint with this man.
Warnings: 18+. Smut. Partners who fuck to lovers. Oral sex - fem recieving. Unprotected PIV.
A/N: I'm so happy to be finally kicking off series three! Apologies for the wait! I really loved writing this but it's the first time I've had a request for afab!reader so if there's anything I've done wrong please let me know.
It hits him in a way he doesn't expect.
They're taking a break from hunting. Laying low in a quaint little cottage at the edge of a secluded lake that Din told you he'd rented from an old contact. He'd wanted to do something nice for you - wanted to make up for the exhaustion that hooked into your bones like a dead weight because he'd insisted on one more job mesh’la, just a few times too many.
And you had lit up at the surprise. Your usual fierce expression melting into something akin to pure joy as he’d nervously waited for you to drink it all in.
Then his cheeks had ached with the force of his grin behind the helmet, relief bursting bright in his stomach whilst he leaned against the Crest and watched you gush to the kid over the acres of stunning meadow. The flowers that bloomed in an explosion of colours and the towering trees with branches that reached all the way down to sway just above the ground as the breeze swept through.
His gaze followed you - riveted - as you ran. As Grogu shrieked with delight in your arms when you reached the shoreline of the lake and kicked your boots and socks off before setting him down beside you. Din heard the sound of the kid splashing - your resulting laughter that drifted through the air to curl around his heart.
There was something almost unbearably warm unfurling beneath his ribs - swelling whilst he watched you tip your face up to the midday sun. Drenched in golden light as the blue of the lake shimmered around you.
It’s a little ridiculous. He feels ridiculous. Your his friend, his partner, and okay maybe they were fucking but that’s all it had ever been.
They didn’t do sweet or gentle. They didn’t do emotions. It was a release when the adrenaline still tore through their blood after a fight, an offering of themselves to the other so they could take out their rage when a job didn’t go their way.
He doesn't know how to deal with those types of feelings. Din doesn't even know how you would deal with those feelings. It was the whole fucking reason they'd started their arrangement in the first place. No strings attached - keep things simple.
And yet this thing with you has never been simple to begin with.
They're tangled hopelessly together - bound in blood and violence - sex and that startling burst of life when you're dragged back from the brink of death. All the ways that another person can be branded upon your very soul.
Maker, how had he only just realised now.
As you called out to him from somewhere with in the aged stone walls of the cottage - voice streaked through with awe - snapping him out of the screaming mess of his thoughts.
Mando are you coming in? You have to come see this!
As he breathed out a ragged sigh before following the sound of your voice.
How had he never realised just how fucked he was.
**
You're torturing him. Din's sure of it.
He's only seen you in your armour. The threadbare clothes that you wear beneath it. And he doesn't know what he expected - you obviously had no need for them here when you were on a break - but whatever it was, it wasn't this.
It wasn't the way he was wholly unprepared for what the sight of you in a pretty little sundress would do to him. The way it fits you so perfectly, slipping along your curves and swishing around the smooth, bare skin of your thighs whenever you move.
Din's a stuttering mess at the sight of it - face burning behind the shield of his helmet whilst his gaze greedily rakes over you. It's a struggle to focus on almost anything else and the effort it takes to rein in just how badly he wants to devour you - to bury himself inside you right there - is practically herculean.
And what makes it all worse - all a thousand times more difficult - is that those feelings he's suspicious of having will not go away. They refuse to be shoved back down now he's shone the barest hint of light on them.
They swirl around him - in the depths of his chest and his gut - blooming into something completely unmanageble the longer they're here.
It's the domesticity of it.
The fact that it all just fits - feels right - they feel so much like a family. Something Din had never even realised he had craved something fierce until you and Grogu had came along and gave him a taste of what he'd been missing.
It's the trips to the market where you get to actually take your time for once flitting from stall to stall - dragging him along with you as you point out vibrant, lavish fabrics. Different foods and spices from all over the galaxy. The many toys you see for Grogu that Din has to steer you away from after the kid realises if he gives you a certain look and sweetly coos, you'll buy him anything.
It's the picnics they have right by the side of the lake and the times they chase the kid through the meadow for hours until he decides he's exhausted and reaches for one of you so he burrow his little face into your neck and sleep.
You pull him back outside with you after the kid is put to bed for the night. Lie straight on the cool grass - surrounded by the silky petals of pretty flowers - before you thread your fingers through his and lead him down beside you.
They watch the stars and just talk, your head tilted so close to his helmet that as the temperature dips he can see each warm puff of your breath in the air. And the whole time Din's heart pulses - the leather of his gloves creaking as he fists his hands to try and hide the slight tremble.
It feels a lot like intimacy. Like the rules of their agreement are crumbling around them when a tense silence suddenly falls between you - your eyes flicking from his hands to the pitch dark of his visor. A flash of soft pink as your tongue darts across your lip.
Fuck.
You whisper his name - gentle with want - and his breath hitches. It makes him hard. The simple touch of your hand stroking the cheek of his helmet. Drifting down to stroke over his chest - the softly tensing muscles of his stomach.
A ragged noise spills from his throat and then he's snatching your hand. Yanking you forward until you're draped over him, your thighs straddling his narrow hips. There's this feeling of desperation that bleeds through him. Like if he goes any longer without you surrounding him completely, he'll lose his mind. He'll burn up like a dying star.
He rips his gloves off so he can feel you properly. His fingers digging into the meat of your thighs whilst you slip your hand past his waistband and grasp the thick length of him. When you stroke him his head falls back, knocks off the ground as he hisses and strains to keep himself from thrusting into the soft heat of your palm.
"Fuck," He mutters. "How do you always feel so good."
You shiver at that and then you're shoving his pants down - hovering over him whilst he hastily rucks your dress up to your stomach. You take him in your hand and push your panties to the side before sliding the thick head of his cock through your slick folds. It nudges against your clit - snags at your entrance where his hips then jerk - a moan shuddering through your throat as the tip slides into you.
"Mando." You breathe - the sound of it splintered - before sinking fully down.
And suddenly everything went slow. Warm. Like wading through syrup. You fall against him and one hand immediately clamps around the curve of your hip - his other gripping a fistful of your hair to keep you utterly pinned to his body whilst he rocks up into you.
Every sense he has zeroes on you. The soaked, fever-hot clasp of your cunt, stretching and fluttering around him. The smell of your sweet breath as you press your mouth to the place on his helmet where his own lies underneath in the echo of a kiss and your pretty gasp when it makes him lose his head and thrust deep.
He silently thanked the maker they'd left the light on inside because it poured over you now. Your pleasure-drunk face and the way your tits heave against the tight bodice of your dress. His eyes drop lower and Din nearly bites through his lip as he sees the gloss of your arousal painting your thighs, his cock shiny with it as he slides in and out of you.
He wants to get his mouth on you, wants to press his face to your flush, dripping sex and drink you down until he can hardly breathe.
It's a lot. Every part of this is overwhelming. But Din has realised he is nothing but greedy when it comes to you.
He winds an arm around your waist and surges up - your startled cry at the sudden change of angle making heat spear through his belly. He curls his hand around your neck to drag your forehead back to his whilst he thrust deeper - buries himself inside you like he's trying to carve you open before he rips down the top of your dress to palm at your tits.
"Stars… please." You pant, lashes fluttering as your mouth parts in bliss.
He can feel you getting closer to your end. The wet, hot velvet of your walls clenching around his swelling length - body trembling beneath his hands as his touch drifts lower to wedge between you two and press against the swollen flesh of your clit until you sob.
You wind around him when it rushes through you. Locking him tight in the cage of your arms - between your thighs - as his name cracks on your tongue and you flood him. It short circuits his brain, a feral noise clawing up his throat as his cock pulses and spills inside you.
And all he can think as their breathing calms, as the sweat dries on your body and you burrow against his chest when a breeze stirs the still night air, is closer.
I need you closer.
**
The sex is different after that.
They've forgotten the rules - threw them away completely - it's no longer about just stress relief. He can touch you whenever he wants and vice versa.
Din is insatiable with it. As soon as the kid is napping or preoccupied with food and some shitty cartoon, he's on you. His voice pitched low and husky as he yanks you against his chest.
Need to feel you mesh'la, I've been thinking about it all day.
It's only 10am Mando.
Exactly. It's been hours.
He likes to corner you when you're in the kitchen. When you've been cooking and baking for hours because you don’t get the time to do it when you're hunting and you've told him it relaxes you.
He can't quite put his finger on why he's so entranced. If maybe it's because you look so pure. Sweet and soft in your pretty little dresses whilst you ice delicate shapes on cupcakes for the kid - like butter wouldn't melt in your mouth when he's seen the kind of violence you're capable of. The way those same hands have torn apart people twice your size.
Whatever it is, the sight of you humming away to yourself - flushed from the heat of the oven - the various things simmering away on the stove - flour dusting your hands and streaked across your cheek - it makes him slightly feral. Heat snaking through his blood and his belly every time without fail.
He leans against the doorframe and simply watches for a few moments. Drink in the way the sunlight glides over your hair - your smooth skin, the way your dress flutters around your legs as you move from counter to stove and back again. Smiling softly when he hears you mumbling to yourself.
You jump when you turn and see him standing there - a sheepish grin tugging at your mouth before you beckon him over.
And he goes without a word. Seals his back to your chest and his hands to the swell of your hips whilst you scoop some of the sauce for dinner on a spoon. He tips his chin down as you turn around to face him - chuckling as you blow a lock of hair away from your face before clamping a hand over your eyes and raising the spoon.
The simple act makes his heart thump - the levels of trust it implied between them. Din swallows hard before slowly lifting his helmet just above his mouth so he could lean in and taste. And oh, stars.
A deep noise of satisfaction hums through his chest and he catches the way your lips quirk as he drops the helmet back down.
"Fuck, that's good."
The flash of your smile is blinding - pleased and brushed with a hint of smugness. It was stupidly endearing. It makes him ache with something tender in his chest - his stomach clenching with a soft bloom of arousal.
He cradles your face in one hand and your eyes flutter closed, contentment oozing from you as his thumb sweeps over the swell of your cheek. The hand curved around your hip squeezes - kneads the flesh that's enticingly warm beneath the thin material of your dress before drifting lower. Fingers dipping teasingly beneath the hem.
Your eyes blink open. Fix him with a look that's equal amused curiosity and soft heat. "Is there something you want Mandalorian?"
Oh - you know that does something to him.
So he presses forward - crowds you up against the counter whilst his hand snakes fully under your dress to stroke along your underwear. His mouth splitting into a shit-eating grin when he presses his fingers to the damp cloth covering your clit and you lurch against his chest.
"I want to taste you." He rasps - taunts until you shudder. Your palms twitching against his chest plate. Pupils blown wide. "I want to lick that pretty pussy until you cum screaming my name."
And then Din's dropping to his knees. He pushes your dress up to your stomach and nudges your thighs apart - visor fixed on your stunned face when he slowly peels your underwear down your legs before flinging them to the side.
Fuck. He can smell you. How wet you are from just his words and a few simple touches. It punches pride through his chest, a low groan rumbling in the back of his throat when he slides a finger along your dripping slit.
You gasp his name and it drizzles like warm honey down into his gut. It loosens his tongue further until it feels like he can't stop pouring out every dirty little fantasy of you he's ever had.
"Do you know how many times I've dreamed of this?" He murmurs. "How sweet you would taste - sweeter than anything in the galaxy when you finally flood my mouth. Will you let me do it? Let me make you cum on my tongue and you can have whatever you want."
You nod desperately - lips parted - seemingly lost for all other words and he melts with it. Burns all the way down to his fingertips and toes as he removes his hand from your flushed sex and places it on your thigh.
"Close your eyes then."
He watches as they flutter closed and then his helmet hits the floor. He hears your sharp inhale and feels that similar breathlessness in his own chest. He was bare. He was giving you as much of himself as he could - more than he'd ever given anyone - and you both knew it. It was undeniable proof that their relationship has become something more.
It swells heavy in the air and paints Din's movements - his touches tender and worshipful as he leads your hand to replace his own in holding the material of your dress. Leaving both of his free to stroke and tease at all of your soft, warm skin.
He places a kiss on your stomach - presses his face there just a moment and breathes you in whilst your trembling fingers thread through his hair. His heart is racing. It feels like he's ripping it out of his chest and presenting it to you, like he's laying himself raw and vulnerable at your feet without realising he's done it until it's too late. He can't stop. You just bring it out of him.
He shifts again. Peppering kisses along your hips - your thighs - the patch of skin above your pussy until you twitch beneath his hands. Your fingers twisting tighter in hair. Not enough to hurt but enough that he gets a sense of your growing impatience.
"Mando, don't tease." You whine quietly and he can't help himself.
Can't help the playful grin that you can surely feel against your skin. "Is there something you want pretty thing?"
You huff. "Maker, I swear if you're trying to torture me I'm going to-"
But whatever you were about to threaten him is lost to a startled moan as he hooks your thigh over his shoulder and shoves his face against the soaked heat of your sex - dragging his tongue from hole to clit.
He sucks the swollen nub into his mouth and you nearly buckle, your palm slamming down on the counter beside you before your fingers curl around the edge. You taste better than he could have ever imagined - the salt-sweet of you intoxicating. Making him dizzy with lust as he flicks his tongue and sinks two fingers into the fluttering channel of your cunt.
"Shit." You whimper. "Mando."
He curls his fingers and your hips jerk into his mouth, thighs twitching around his head as your walls clench around him. He inches back and he can feel it, his skin glossed with your slick. "What is it baby?" He teases softly, pressing a sweet kiss to your thigh before nipping at the same spot with his teeth. "Do you need to cum?"
You let out a choked little sob. Your brow pinched and lip caught between your teeth whilst you tremble as his thumb draws lazy circles over your clit. You nod but it's not enough, he wants to hear you.
"Use your words, pretty thing."
You soak his fingers at the gentle demand and he files that little bit of information away for later. Wholly transfixed now on the way your chest heaves, the rake of your nails over his scalp. The swell of your lip when you release it that he wants nothing more than to suck into his own mouth.
You do as he says. Go soft and pliant the second he puts his mouth back on you. Begging. "Mando - please - make me cum. I need it."
He groans into you and loses himself in bringing your pleasure. His pace becomes something frantic and messy. He thrusts his fingers inside you, hitting that patch of tissue that makes you cry out and yank his hair whilst he swirls his tongue harshly over your clit again and again and again.
He feels it rise. Feels the rapid build of your orgasm - your walls pulsing around his knuckles and your thighs quaking before it slashes through you and you burst hot and wet with a strangled scream.
"That's it." He praises raggedly. "That's it cyar’ika."
You're a trembling mess when it recedes, your legs threatening to give out but then Din is there. He withdraws his fingers and presses another tender kiss to your stomach before standing and gathering you to his chest. Your hands find his face and then you're drawing him down - your mouth slotting sweetly over his as he clutches you closer.
It breaks that last part of him that held any denial, that tried to convince him that these feelings were nothing more than his mind confusing the lust element to their friendship as something else.
Because as the kiss grows heated, as he lifts you onto the counter and you drag his pants down to grasp his thick length - slowly pumping him before you lead him to your entrance. As he slowly pushes forward, sinking to the hilt and pulling a moan from you both whilst you twine your arms around his neck.
It feels a lot like love.
In fact he's sure it is.
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#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#din djarin#the mandalorian#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian x you#the mandalorian imagine#the mandalorian fanfic#pedro pascal character fanfiction#seven nights of sin
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I am still rotating your ac6 characters in my head.
I can t help but think that its hard for most people to read 621 expressions.
(Especially Michigan, who is doing his best though)
Meanwhile, Rusty is just hyer aware of everything Raven.
He can identify any emotion on his buddy and it's a bit scary. Like he knows any tilt of their eyebrow or quiver of their lips.
(Raven: 0^0
Rusty: buddy? Are you good?
Raven: 0^0
Rusty: I am pretty sure that I still have a few rations in my bag
Raven: 0^0
Rusty: no need to thank me! No one fights good on an empty stomach!
Michigan: are you fucking kidding me?!)
As you said, 621 and Ayre are soulmates, so she gets the vibes they are sending her.
Walter is just good at the guessing game.
aughhh THIS IS SO CUTE the idea that Rusty has some sort of built-in radar about 621 like just immediately gets what they are trying to convey... except for in the most critical moment (*glare at the underground fight*) .........
Walter IS trying his best afsldgkdl and i think everyone else not just Michigan will just be flabbergasted as how Rusty can understand Raven so well ;; w ;; (Ayre: this is the most riveting drama ive ever seen)
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