#The Peripheral Season 1

[ciegeinc]

The Peripheral S01E06

[goodjohnjr]

The Peripheral (Season 1)

The Peripheral (2022) What Is It? The 2022 Amazon American science fiction TV show The Peripheral (Season 1). The Peripheral Season 1 – Official Trailer | Prime Video The Peripheral Season 1 – Teaser Trailer | Prime Video Here is how Wikipedia describes this TV show: The Peripheral is an American science fiction television series created by Scott B. Smith. Produced by Amazon, it is loosely…

[cabinboy100]

THE PERIPHERAL: 1x08: "The Creation of a Thousand Forests": Flynne's plan and the new stub…?

Does Flynne's plan make sense? Is it possible? I *thought* I followed the genius of Flynne's "create a stub" plan, but have discovered some flaws in my thinking.

My take on her plan…

I forget how it was described in the series, but once 2099 London creates a stub, the passage of time in the stub is locked in sync with the passage of time in 2099. So, let's say Flynne returns to 2032 Clanton from 2099 London at 12pm in Clanton and 2pm in London. When she puts the headset on one hour later to jump back to London, it's 1pm in 2032 Clanton and 3pm in 2099 London—one hour later in both timelines. I feel like there's a term for this phenomenon in the show and/or book, but I cannot recall it, so if it comes up again, I'll use "time lock" or "time locked".

Based on exposition throughout the season, the RI can create a stub beginning at any point in its own history, apparently within some limited range of years back from the present. When Flynne uses the Stub Portal in the finale, on the table interface we see a central timeline with stubs that branch at 2028 and 2038 that appear to "currently" be in 2032 and 2063. We don't get a view of the complete timeline, but we do not see any stubs branching from stubs, only from the center "trunk". When Flynne creates her new stub, she taps the end of the 2028-2032 stub. I believe, because the trunk and its stubs are time locked, the new stub can only begin at the "current" present time in 2032. So, the stub she created—let's call it FF, for Flynne Fisher's, and the one the RI created, OG—is a duplicate of the OG 2032 stub we've been watching so far and has an identical history, including interactions with 2099 and Flynne's remote visit to 2099 London during which she creates FF 2032.

This means that in both FF 2032 and OG 2032, there is a Flynne Fisher body waiting for its consciousness to return from 2099. Once she wills her return in 2099, she wakes in both 2032s. However, before leaving 2099, she meets with Lowbeer and asks her to contact her in one hour in OG 2032, the stub for which parties in 2099 have coordinates. The content of Lowbeer's message is not as important as the message itself, which is a flag for OG Flynne that indicates she is in OG 2032, the stub that is observed and accessible by the RI. it is in this timeline that OG Flynne has Conner shoot her to demonstrate to 2099 that she and the information in her head are no longer a threat to the RI, leading to Cherise putting the kibosh on the silo detonation.

"Meanwhile" in FF 2032, when FF Flynne does *not* receive a message from Lowbeer one hour after leaving her, she knows that she is safe in the FF 2032 stub, hidden from the RI. She shares this news with Conner, so that he knows he's not the Conner that has kill Flynne. In that meeting with Lowbeer in 2099 before returning to her two bodies, she learns from Lowbeer how to neutralize the militia nuts planning to detonate the silo. Burton and company execute, saving Clanton and pushing off the FF Jackpot. It is from the FF timeline that she returns to 2099 and begins to work with Lowbeer to unlock the secrets in her head and use them against Cheriseand the RI and perhaps save her branch from the Jackpot.

Sounds great, right? Well, I thought so, but, there are some problems…

I really like my theory, but…

1. Does it make sense that Cherise would abort the silo detonation after Flynne openly threatens to come back at her from a hidden stub?

When she creates the FF stub Flynne explicitly tells Cherise that she will be gunning for her from a hidden stub. So, when the RI conveniently records the death of OG Flynne in OG 2032, and Lowbeer claims credit for it, why would Cherise buy it and call off the OG Jackpot escalation?

Well, I can think of two possible explanations, but both seem like they require some heavy lifting…

1.a. Somehow, Cherise does not know or believe that Flynne was in cahoots with Lowbeer before she created the FF stub (meaning Flynne got the location of the Stub Portal from…the Klept?). If that's the case, Cherise has no reason to believe that anyone in 2099 London knows about the new stub except herself. So, when Lowbeer explains that the Met is responsible for killing OG Flynne (somehow?—does the Met already, so quickly, have influence in stubs?), the RI have to accept it in good faith and call off their Jackpot acceleration plan out of the goodness of their heart, but we know that they are preserving an invaluable resource, a living lab with decades of experimentation (even though the Stub Portal timeline doesn't actually reflect that).

1.b. Cherise knows or assumes that Flynne and the Met are in cahoots, but has to accept Flynne's death and Lowbeer's credit for it as legitimate for appearances' sake. The balance of power in 2099 being what it is, she does not want to call out Lowbeer, publicly expose their stub tech and b-mod research, and likely start a war with the Met and Klept. She, and they, have to continue with their clandestine shenanigans while maintaining a front of cooperation, or at least, non-aggression.

2. The result of this stub creation does not line up with Flynne's convo with Conner.

FLYNNE: There'll be new versions of us there. Ones that Cherise will have nothing to do with. We'd be safe there. CONNER: But dead in our own world. FLYNNE: Unless I'm already gone. Then she'd have no reason to blow up that silo.

This makes it sound like the new stub would begin before the RI began its behavior modification and haptic experimentation. I believe that means it should be a new stub that branches from the central timeline, and according to Cherise and Grace, it would have to be several years earlier ("decades?"), before the OG stub forks off. However, based on what we can see of Flynne's use of the Stub Portal that is not the nature of the FF stub.

*Maybe* this was a lie that Flynne felt she needed to tell Conner to get him to agree to kill her? But I don't think so. Conner seems to grasp the rules and constraints of the timeline game quickly and accurately.

3. Flynne's friends and family exist in both the OG and FF stubs.

In order for FF Flynne to move forward with Lowbeer without interference from her own well-meaning OG posse (now mourning the loss of OG Flynne to a 2099 assassination), who are aware of Milagros Coldiron as a front for 2099 London, 2099 London would have to disable their remote access and communication. Cold turkey. Do-able, but remember, Flynne's Forever Fab friends hacked head to head vs. Ash and Ossian. Motivated by Flynne's murder, I suspect her people will find a way to fight their way back to 2099 and make someone pay.

It's possible this is a storytelling feature, not a bug, tho. Cuz how awesome would it be to have Flynne's OG entourage team up with FF Flynne's? TWO Conners? And haptically linked? Add two Burtons and Flynne and they can form Peripheral Voltron! =)

But it seems messy, right?

These are the three most disruptive or inconsistent consequences of my theory that came to mind. At worst, it doesn't make sense. At best, it's inconsistent and needs to be reconciled with lies or a decent amount of exposition. This leads me to believe that I've misunderstood Flynne's plan, her words with Conner, Lowbeer, and Cherise, and her actions at the Stub Portal facility.

Back to the virtual drawing board…

Is what Flynne described to Conner actually possible? Can she create a stub in which Cherise and the RI never began their haptic tech laboratory? And if she can, how does that lead to getting Cherise to call off the silo detonation because of her death? And how does a Flynne with all of her experiences thus far return to 2099 to work with Lowbeer?

Regardless, I love this show and need a season 2 to continue entertaining and schooling me. Of course, I will keep thinking on it, and hopefully make some time for a rewatch over the holidaze.

Keep on keepin' on~

P.S. 

QUESTION: What is the action that creates or opens a new stub?

MY ANSWER: I think it can be something as simple as sending an email from 2099 London that lands in someone's spam folder. Or maybe a nonsense text message from an unknown number. Or flipping a bit Somewhere from zero to one or vice versa. The presence of information from 2099 in 2099's relative past "creates" a new timeline at the moment of its arrival, as reality will not abide a paradoxical violation of causality. I have "creates" in quotes because the timeline always existed, it's just that the moment of information transfer is when the 2099 London Prime first interacts with it.

QUESTION: How are the Stub Portals sync'd with the God Font?

MY ANSWER: Since the destruction of the Stub Portal results in the loss of the coordinates of the stub Flynne has just created, the portal must be air gapped, not connected to the RI or any other network. However, on activation by Flynne, the portal displayed the central timeline and existing stubs (including OG 2032). This means that the watches must sync with the God Font and/or RI network at some point. To do this, I believe one of the guard peripherals can be used to read and transmit any updates via remote connection.

[stillsmybeatingheart]

[oneofusnet]

Screener Squad: The Peripheral THE PERIPHERAL SERIES REVIEW Peripheral: relating to or situated on the edge or periphery of something. Cyberpunk: A genre of science fiction set in a lawless subculture of an oppressive society dominated by computer technology.  Amazon Prime presents the William Gibson sci-fi classic created for television by Scott B. Smith The Peripheral. Flynne Fisher (Chloë… Read More »Screener Squad: The Peripheral read more on One of Us

[jukeboxjunk]

worst ways to watch mash

- alphabetical order by episode title

- watch “Dreams” and nothing else and carry on assuming the whole show was like that

- watch the top-rated IMDb episodes first and experience “Abyssinia, Henry” before anything else

- season 11 -> AfterMASH seasons 1-2 -> W*A*L*T*E*R Pilot -> seasons 1-10

- by writer, in alphabetical order by last name. Start with all the Aldas, Wilcox last and so on

- watch the whole show through TikTok clips

- only watch the first three seasons and then abandon it and assume the rest is bad

- only watch episodes that pass the bechdel test

- experience the show peripherally through mutuals on tumblr

[ddejavvu]

okay but season 1/2 spencer when you’re wearing a push-up bra and a tank top because it’s the only thing you had left in your go-bag and he’s just 🤯😳🫢 and the team is all like 🤨🤨. spencer is such a boob man and you can’t convince me otherwise

Emily whistles when you emerge from your shared bathroom, the sweltering heat of phoenix mucking up your skin with sticky sweat.

"That's quite an ensemble," She gives you a once-over, eyes tracking your tank top/push up combo, as well as the tiny shorts clinging to your thighs, "You trying to seduce a confession out of these suspects?"

"It wouldn't hurt," You laugh, "But no. I just packed this when I was low on clean laundry. I'll swap them out when we get back."

"Let's go, then." She offers her arm, and you hook yours through hers with a light chuckle, "Ready to go comb through those files?"

"No," You sigh, digging your room keys out of your pocket and locking your door behind you, "But I guess I'd rather read those than poke at a dead body for evidence, like Rossi and Reid."

"What about me?" A smooth voice comes from the door you're passing, and Dave steps out, adjusting his suit jacket on his shoulders.

"I said I'm glad I'm not on your team today, too much blood and guts for my taste."

He gives you an amused smile, something that you return until you hear a thud. You glance up and see Spencer rubbing his forehead, eyes wide despite the scowl on his face.

"Reid," Emily laughs, "Did you just run into the door?"

"No," He huffs, eyes glued to somewhere suspiciously below your chin, "I just- I wasn't looking where I was going, and-"

"I see," Dave chuckles, dragging the young doctor out of his room and shutting the door behind him, "Let's go, loverboy."

None of you care to ask about the nickname, and Reid's thankful for that. What he isn't thankful for is the sway of your ass as you walk in front of him, still arm-in-arm with Emily and scolding her for the way she'd kicked you off of the bed last night.

"I'm never rooming with her again," You spin to face the men behind you, jerking your thumb towards Emily, "I mean, there's only so many times a girl can hit the ground before she stays there!"

Apparently Spencer isn't immune to hitting the ground, either. His shoe catches on the metal track of the elevator doors and he stumbles, Rossi's hand on his shoulder not enough to stop him from toppling. He hits the ground with a thud, a heap of clumsiness and lanky limbs.

"Reid!" You cry, face tugged into a sympathetic frown, "Are you okay? Here," You bend down, offering him a hand, "Lemme help you up."

If he wasn't already on the ground he'd be falling again, the angle that you're leaning over at showcasing the curves of your chest and the fortunate boost that your bra had given you. He keeps his eyes frantically glued to your face, but his peripheral vision is enough so see both your cleavage, and his team members behind you, laughing their asses off.

"I'm okay! I'm okay," He stammers, rushing to stand. In doing so, you're not given enough time to back up before his head is shooting upwards, his legs propelling him straight into your chest.

He grunts as he tries catching you before you tip over, but ultimately it's Dave that braces a hand against your back so that you don't fall. You let out a hot-cheeked, adrenaline-filled burst of laughter, "I guess I'm not good with balance this early in the morning."

"And Reid's not good at focusing," Emily drawls, grabbing your hand to tug you to rest safely against the back of the elevator, "At least not on what he's supposed to be looking at."

[answer2jeff]

ready for another lie?

// carmen berzatto x reader

song: Diet Mountain Dew.

pairings: nyc chef!carmen x journalist!reader

mdni!! i'm not responsible for your media consumption.

warnings: smutty smut, VERY DETAILED, fem!reader, oral and fingering (f!recieving), porn with plot, drinking, cursing, kinda subby carmy, praise kink, alludes to piv but it doesn't happen, complete and utter filth, i'm giving the people what they want don't look at me!!!

essentially a prequel, 1 year before the start of season 1 of The Bear.

"Fuck youuuuu! It's Friday, loosen up!" A groggy voice yelled from across the bar, cursing you for declining another drink.

You watched your friends flirt with the bartender over the course of 2 rounds of shots; causing harmless fuckery with the several guys who tried flattering them. You were actually bored for once. It made you sick.

You waited for something, anything else to impress you. You tried convincing yourself you didn't have to leave, that your friends wanted you here, and that nights like these were "good for your soul," but there seemed to be no hope.

"Just two vodka tonics. Oh, and a white Negroni. Uh, yes— yes, thank you." You caught a blonde curl from the stool next to you in the corner of your peripheral vision, and you dared to turn your head. You were met by the sight of an oddly familiar guy—and then it hit you like a semi truck.

The man you wrote your final thesis on "the senses creating art," about. Food & Wines best new chef, as of late.

You'd spent an entire year and a half traveling the world (after finally making a name for yourself as a journalist, and snagging a place in Food & Wines top writers) and interviewing the faces of all forms of modern art, representing one of each of the 5 senses.

Casey French, a fragrance designer as the face of "smell." Christopher Knowles, a fashion designer who specialized in optical wear as the face of "sight."

The list went on, until it ended at Carmen Berzatto, on "taste," just 6 months ago. It was September now, and you almost forgot about the 2 and a half hours you took from your day to sit down and talk to him in that studio. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you felt the pores in your palms release a nervous sweat.

You blinked rapidly, wondering if you were really seeing him— out of all the other Friday nights, when he could've visited all the other bars. But he chose this Friday, at this bar, next to you. You needed to say something.

"I'll take a Negroni too, actually. And you can just close out my tab for tonight." You handed the bartender your card after you anxiously fished it out of your wallet, trying to seem completely oblivious to Carmen's stare. Carmen clenched his teeth, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he kept his gaze focused on you.

"Holy shit! Is that—" A slightly younger man nearly yelped while he inappropriately pointed at you, quickly being shut down by his peer, and being told to "shut the fuck up," but Carmen stayed silent. He was dumbfounded at the sight of you.

"Uh, hi. Funny seeing you here," you croaked, swallowing hard when you realized how much of a horrible excuse of a "hello," that was. Carmen didn't seem to mind, dragging his head out of the clouds and smiling back at you as he received his glass.

"Oh my god, yeah. Wow, I— it's good to see you."

Carmen glanced down at your drink, watching you trace your fingertip around the rim of the short glass. He gazed at your fresh manicure, the beautifully layered rings on your fingers, the diamonds on your wrists, the black dress with a slit that exposed your leg up to your mid-thigh. Carmen always thought you looked nice, only being used to your blazers and gorgeous vintage pants that he was a little jealous of, but this was different.

And as if you weren't already anxious enough, Carmen's "friends" immediately arose from their stools and made their way to an empty table, leaving the two of you alone again. Just looking at him and his clean suit and tie made you nervous, especially with the ink on his hands still visible.

"Good to see you too, Carmen," you smiled, cheeks aching as you tried desperately to hide your excitement. Admittedly, you admired him. That wasn't new. But that feeling in your stomach, that aching, yearning feeling was.

"I don't usually do these things," Carmen mumbled, taking a sip from his glass and licking his lips.

"Me neither. It's kinda— I don't know, icky."

You knew Carmen avoided big gatherings like this, but they were usually tolerable thanks to people who "knew him" enough to let him hang around their groups in silence while they practically screamed at each other. But his free time just never seemed to align with anyone else worth talking to... until tonight.

"Icky. Couldn't have worded it better," Carmen tried not to laugh at your expense, keeping his tongue between his teeth as both of you fought back a smile.

"You get it! God, anyway—how've you been?" You inched closer to him, resting your chin in your palm as your elbows were propped up on the counter. You made sure to keep your stare on him and only him, glancing from his nose, to his lips, and back into his eyes. You knew exactly what you were doing, and it was too late to stop now.

Carmen paused, his mouth gaping open slightly as he thought of what he could possibly say to convey that he could be doing better, without completely ruining the mood. He sucked his teeth as he took a deep breath, his eyes glued to the floor until he finally looked at you again.

"Alright, I guess. Managing. How're you?"

"Managing. But really though. Like, has anything changed?"

Carmen thought about your question, realizing how much he seemed to relax tonight—while simultaneously being the most nervous he'd ever been outside of work in the last year. Was it being out and public after a long week? Was it the fact that he still felt so stupid for not getting your actual number, and instead only having access to your business email which was provided by your agent? Was it the smell of your perfume? Was it just you?

"Uh... yeah. Yeah, I guess some things have changed."

He couldn't help but awe at the way you did your hair and your makeup that night, appreciating the tiny details your jewelry and purse of choice added to the look. He hardly ever thought twice about the attractive women he'd run into; making small talk and watching them get bored with his interests.

But now you were here; his fantasies, his desires were here, right next to him; wearing a dress that flattered your cleavage and cinched you at the waist, black heels that tapped against the footrest of the barstool. It made his head foggy, and he couldn't even wrap his head around the encounter.

After finishing your Negroni's over the course of 3 separate conversations that left you with a cramp in your side and your cheeks hurting from smiling—basically hitting it off like you were actual friends, you decided to pull the classic...

"You wanna get out of here?"

Two successful, somewhat well known adults in their lines of work were allowed to be human, right? They were allowed to share deep belly laughs with someone they didn't originally plan to see outside of a work setting, right?

Wrong. It was unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted: everything you promised you'd never be around him.

Carmen knew this.

But he was eye-fucking you in that goddamn interview. His tattooed hands rubbing against his thighs as he sat in front of you in the white light of that studio, his gentle voice contradicting his large, almost intimidating arms—it was all you could think about when you wrote your thesis. And now you were gonna be alone with him.

And despite his worries, despite the nervous sweat beading on his forehead, despite his growing anticipation when he admired your figure like a horny teenager, Carmen agreed. The smirk on your face and your manicured nails in between your pearly white teeth was convincing enough. He knew it was risky, given the fact that you still wrote for Food & Wine every couple of months: being more than capable of ruining his career with one wrong, but so right move.

"Yeah, actually."

Unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted.

Fuck it.

Carmen closed his tab, gently helping you down from the barstool by your hand. You held your purse close to you while waving a shy goodbye to your friends, who were drunkenly squealing in excitement for you. Carmen's peers seemed to be out of sight; therefore, out of mind. You felt your cheeks go hot, every part of your body tingling. Neither of you knew where you were going. Just not here, and not with everyone else.

He couldn't even think about the fact that he would be back in the glowing white light of the kitchen that following Monday, and you completely forgot about the paper you had to start by Sunday night. And it was way too late to care about any of that now.

You decided your apartment was best.

"Fuck.." Carmen grunted under his breath, his eyes hooded while he felt his pants tighten against his throbbing length. He spread his legs wider as you palmed him, trying to ease some of his tension. You hovered over him as he lied down, sprawled out on your leather couch. His hands were clawing at anything he could reach; your hair, your thighs, the straps of your dress until he pulled it down to your hips, and finally the clasp of your bra.

His bare chest heaved, red and covered in sweat. His dress shirt, tie, and jacket were somewhere in the mess of your apartment. He was honestly too desperate to care.

"You okay with me takin' this off?" Carmen whispered as he cupped your cheek, keeping his fingers prepared to unclip your bra with your permission. He admired every inch of your flushed face as he waited for answer.

"Mhm," you soothed him as your hand moved up and unbuttoned his pants the second your lips moved onto his. Saliva pooled in your mouths with every kiss, turning into a sloppy mess of tongue and teeth. Carmen struggled, but eventually tossed your bra onto the living room floor, his mouth just centimeters away from yours as he exhaled heavy breaths.

You sat up straight, pulling Carmen up by his shoulders and smashing your lips back into his. He pulled sway to breathe, taking it upon himself to peel the rest of your dress off. His tattooed hands gently caressed your plush thighs, his calloused fingers sliding under the hem of your lace underwear. He practically worshiped you like this, planting open mouthed kisses along your jawline and neck.

Carmen needed to hear you, feel you, taste you.

"I wanna taste you, if–if that's alright," he placed one last kiss of gratitude on collarbone before he looked up at you through lust-blown, half-lid eyes.

Your entire body began to heat up again, and Carmen's words went straight to your needy cunt. You could feel yourself dripping through your panties while you put a hand over your mouth in embarrassment, nodding frantically.

"Please," you begged, a mixture of a moan and a silent cry escaping. Carmen's hands detached from your thighs, your hips writhing up from the loss of contact. Without another word, he nodded his head, letting his hands travel down your hips as he got down on his knees in front of you.

Carmen took a shaky breath, glancing from your pleading eyes and back down to your bottom half. He hesitated, choosing to plant one more line of kisses from your tits down to your navel before giving you one last look for permission. He put his hand between your inner thighs, asking you to spread further. You blinked slowly while he peeled your panties off of you, wondering if he would notice how wet you already were.

Unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted.

Carmen licked his lips, admiring the sight of your puffy slit in hesitation. With your body sprawled out in front of him, your pretty face looking down at him...how could he not eat you out right on that leather couch?

"I've got you, baby," Carmen cooed, his eyes wide as he nearly drooled over the glossy puddle in your underwear. He gently placed your calves over his shoulders, his calloused hands scooping the underside of your thighs.

Carmens wet tongue licked a bold stripe from your hole up to your soaked clit, not a drop of your arousal going to waste. You grew impatient, the kitten licks he gave your sensitive bundle of nerves driving you mad.

"C'mon, Carmy, I—" You whined, pleading that he'd pick up the pace. Carmen decided not to hold back, giving your throbbing clit aggressive sucks that he'd later soothe with slow, flat-tongued licks.

You bit down on your hand while the other entangled in his hair to muffle the sinful noises you made. Carmen felt his stomach turn at the sound of his name falling from your gaping mouth.

Carmen took note of how much you loved his tongue diving into your weeping hole, earning whimpers and cries of "please," and "oh, fuck, Carmen." He groaned into your pussy when you caught a grip on his hair, placing his head even deeper between your thighs. He moved his hands from your thighs and up to your waist—forcing your jerky hips down on the couch. He wanted to make sure you didn't miss a single bit of pleasure.

"Can I.. uh, can I try something?" He stammered, picking his head up with his chin shiny with your liquids as his hand crept back down, prying between your folds. Carmen needed to keep every part of him busy so he wouldn't have to focus on the aching bulge, already leaking precum in his boxers. He felt his thighs clench as he fucking whimpered beneath you.

"S–sure.." You nodded frantically again, tossing your head back as Carmen carefully inserted a digit into your core. You whimpered in slight discomfort as he stretched you out, which he immediately reassured softly.

"Shhh... you're alright. Jus–just relax f'me, yeah?"

Carmen waited until you whined again; his fingers started at an agonizingly slow pace until he heard your moans getting a little too quiet for his liking. He picked his pace up, sliding another thick finger into your hole and ramming into your g-spot. He hesitated, afraid to hurt you—but you quickly dismissed his worries when you urged him that you needed more. Carmen aligned his tongue back with your pussy, sucking hard before comforting your desire with lapping at your clit.

"Oh my god, Carmen," you felt that familiar knot in your stomach, your grip in his hair tightening while your moans grew louder and louder. You didn't care if your neighbors could hear you through the thin walls of your apartment. You didn't even think about what this would look like the morning after—because none of it mattered. Not with Carmen's head between your thighs.

Carmen could tell you were close, prioritizing your pleasure before he could even register how badly he wanted to cum into his boxers. He couldn't help but buck his hips forward, begging for friction while every noise you made just inched him closer to his release... but he needed this to last.

"You close? Let me take care 'f you," he mumbled, breathing heavily against your pussy while he tried his best to stay still. It sent shockwaves through your body, and you tried desperately not to scream his name.

"So... so close.. Fuck, it's too much," your useless protest was cut short by a loud moan, muffled by the sweaty palm of your hand. Your heart pounded in your head as your walls clenched around Carmen's fingers. You weren't used to anything feeling this good in months.

"C'mon baby, you can handle it. You're alright. You're doing so good. Takin' my fingers so fuckin' good," Carmen's raspy voice comforted you. His tongue finally came back to relieve you, his fingers slowing down so as to not overstimulate you, as much as he wanted to.

"Carmy!" Your eyes screwed shut as your thighs shook. You chased your high, practically grinding into his face as his nose bumped your clit while his fingers remained at work.

—

"Jesus..." You panted, grunting in disappointment when you felt Carmen slide his fingers out of you. He licked them clean while your eyes were screwed shut as you tried to recollect yourself. Carmen planted a kiss on your temple the second he sat back up onto the couch, pulling you into his lap by your waist. You felt his erection against your crotch, his already sticky mess combining with your wetness yet again.

"You okay?" Carmen cupped your cheek, pushing any sweaty strands of hair out of your face. And just when he thought he couldn't have felt more proud of you, he melted into the feeling of your lips against his.

You didn't know if you'd ever see him again, you didn't know if this night would magically become niche hot gossip within your respective groups; all you knew was that you wanted him. His lust blown eyes on you, his hands gripping your waist as he bent you over your kitchen counter and fucked you dumb, the sound of sex echoing through your apartment.

Maybe some other Friday night.

[beskarandblasters]

Repent Your Sins

Stepdad!Din Djarin x Mandalorian/F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Author’s note: Consider this a little celebration for the 1 year anniversary of the Mandalorian season 3 premiere! Thank you @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for beta reading! 🥹🤍

Summary: Ever since the Mandalorians reclaimed Mandalore, you’ve been apathetic about moving there. To top it all off, your mom got remarried. Your new stepdad, Din, suggests visiting the Living Waters to feel more connected to the creed. When you’re finally alone, pent up feelings come to the surface, leaving you to ask yourself— Are you really about to fuck your stepdad?

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: canon divergent, post season 3 finale, reader is able-bodied, stepcest, fingering, semi public sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (cyar’ika, mesh’la), light angst, Din’s a little creepy in this lmao, no use of y/n

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs

Life on Mandalore has been nothing short of hectic. It’s not that you don’t like having the clans living amongst each other. But the fact of the matter is you don’t feel like Mandalore is your home. You didn’t grow up on Mandalore and based on the legends you didn’t understand why the others were so determined to come back. And now that you’re living here, you still don’t get it.

They’ve done their best to make the place feel more like a home. Houses made of stone have been built but they’re more utilitarian than cozy. They’re still trying to figure out what land can be used for farming and it’s a miracle no one’s starving yet. 

And then there’s your mother. Your mother decided to get remarried once you got settled here and she chose to marry none other than Din Djarin. You expected your mom to get married again sooner or later. She’s been lonely since your father passed away during battle many cycles ago. But you didn’t expect her to marry Din. You’ve heard the rumors about him but you didn’t meet him until right before everyone went to reclaim Mandalore. You didn’t have time to address your attraction to him back then but that’s when it started. Between the saunter in his step, how broad he is, and his brilliant silver armor you’re head over heels. Not to mention how good he is with his then-foundling and now son, Grogu. 

He’s been the only person concerned about your transition to life on Mandalore. As if your attraction to Din needed to grow any deeper. Your mother has been busy with Bo-Katan and the Armorer, developing infrastructure and surveying land for farming. Which left you alone with Din and Grogu. He’s been great with checking in with you here and there. 

On the rare occasions when he went with the others to attend to matters, you were left to watch over Grogu. And it made you seethe with jealousy. Not that you didn’t like watching Grogu. You just felt like you should be out there with your man. Because deep down, you developed not only a crush but a slightly possessive one at that. 

You think he feels it, too. There have been times when his visor lingers on you. And although you can’t see his face like he can see yours, you can only imagine what his expression is like underneath his helmet. Or it’s a pat on your shoulder or his hand on the small of your back as he’s trying to scooch behind you. It’s literally anything. It doesn’t matter what because your mind has convinced you that he wants you like you want him. Sometimes you think you’re crazy, that you’re foolish for believing that your stepdad could possibly be into you. 

But maybe you’re not so crazy after all. 

It’s another typical day for you. You’re sitting outside, looking up at the muddled atmosphere. You sense Din beside you out of your peripheral, towering above you. 

“Doing alright?” he asks, crouching down to sit beside you. He sets Grogu down, letting him waddle around on the rocks, lifting a few of the small ones with the Force. 

“Not really. But it doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me. What can I help you with?”

“Probably nothing. I’m just never going to get used to this place being home.”

“Can I suggest something?” 

“What is it?” you ask, turning to look at him. 

“What about doing some things to feel more connected to the creed?”

“Like what?”

“Have you visited the Living Waters?”

“No.”

“I would start there.”

“I thought you only had to go there if you messed up. You know… like you did,” you joke. 

“Very funny,” he deadpans. 

“But I’ll go if you think it’ll help.”

He scoops Grogu into his arms and stands, offering his free hand to help you up. You grab your helmet and take his hand, standing so close to him it makes your stomach flutter. You look down before replacing your helmet on your head and see his hand flex after he lets it go. And it leaves you wondering what that could mean. 

You bid him goodbye, feeling his visor burn a hole into you walk away. The journey to the Living Waters is uneventful. Most if not all of the threats were cleared out by the others a while ago. 

Once you get there you take off your helmet and jetpack, sitting on the stone floor by the water's edge and enjoying the solitude. It’s actually peaceful down here and you hate feeling that way. You’ve gotten so used to being apathetic about every aspect of this place that feels weird to enjoy something here for once. Since moving here you’ve gotten used to being alone, since your mother and the other clan members have been so busy. Aside from the moments with Din and Grogu, of course. But here it feels like you’re alone on your own terms like you chose for it to be this way instead of the others just abandoning you. 

“How are you doing?” a voice says behind you. 

You startle with a jolt, turning your torso to get a glance at who’s there. It’s Din, of course. Who else would it be? No one else cares this much to come all this way to see how you’re doing. You’re surprised you didn’t hear him but you must’ve been too far in your own head, reflecting. 

“I don’t mind it down here,” you say, turning to face the water again. 

He detaches his jetpack and sits beside you like he did on the surface, but this time he spins around to face your side, back nice and straight up nice and straight with his hands resting on his knees. You scooch around to meet him in the middle, both of you facing each other. Grogu’s noticeably absent this time. 

“Where’s Grogu?”

“Playing with the other younglings.”

“My mother?” 

“Still with Bo-Katan and the others. Something about planting a few test crops to see how they take.”

“Ahh.”

“Just admit you like it down here,” he says. You can just by his voice that he’s wearing a smug grin on his face. 

“Fine,” you roll your eyes, “But don’t tell anyone. Or else they’ll start asking me to help out.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m just glad something finally got you to feel better. Even if it’s just a little bit.”

“Yeah…” you trail off. You turn your head back towards the water and ask, “But why do you care so much?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you care if I’m happy or not?”

“I know what it’s like to move to a strange place, to feel like you don’t fit in.”

You stifle a snort, prompting him to ask, “What?”

“When have you ever felt like you didn’t fit in?” you say, turning your head back towards him. 

“Lots of times. Especially when I’m the only Mandalorian in a room.”

“Oh yeah? So what did you do to make yourself feel better?”

“It’s empowering not to fit in.”

“How so?”

“It means there’s something about you that sets you apart from the others.”

“I don’t think I have that.”

“You do. You just don’t see it.”

“And what’s that?” 

“Your spunk.”

“My spunk?”

“Yeah. You’re not afraid to let your mother have it. That’s for sure.”

That gets you to laugh, a real laugh. Maker, you haven’t laughed or felt this much joy since before you moved here. 

“Thanks for saying all that,” you say, inching closer to him. 

“I mean it,” he says, leaning forward. 

Without thinking you inch closer even more and now the gap between you two is almost nonexistent. You gaze directly into his visor, imagining what he looks like underneath his helmet. As if he read your mind, he gravitates his hands towards the bottom edge of his helmet, lifting it off of his head. You throw your hand over your eyes out of respect. Is he crazy? He just redeemed himself for doing this not that long ago. 

“You can look. We’re a part of the same clan after all.” 

His voice. His unmodulated voice. 

“Really?” you ask. 

“Yes really,” he chuckles. 

You put your hand back in your lap slowly, taking in his appearance. He’s better than you ever could’ve imagined. His brown curls are slightly matted from his helmet, albeit in a cute way. His facial hair is slightly graying along his jawline. And his eyes, so warm and brown they make you melt. 

You’re so close to him that his warm breath tickles your face. He’s so intoxicating it makes your mind short-circuit. Without thinking you lean forward, closing the small and almost nonexistent gap between you two, pressing your lips against his. He freezes, his body going tense and stiff before melting into the kiss. His hand finds your chin, his rugged and calloused fingers gingerly touching your skin. The kiss grows more and more passionate; more heated. His tongue brushes against your lips, begging for access. But it’s almost like that brings you back down to reality. This isn’t just any man you’re kissing. This is your stepdad. 

You pull back and look at the water again, hoping that he doesn’t notice how flustered you are. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Don’t be sorry. You were just acting on your feelings.”

“My feelings?” you say, looking at him again and raising an eyebrow. 

“Yes, your feelings. It was only a matter of time before you acted on them.”

Your heart drops to your stomach. 

“H-How long have you known?”

“A while. Since before your mother and I got married.”

You place your head in your hands, mortified and groaning in embarrassment. You feel him inch closer again, bringing his head by your ear like he’s whispering a secret. 

“Don’t be embarrassed. I feel the same way,” he whispers, tickling the shell of your ear. 

“You do?!” you ask in disbelief, poking your head up. 

“Mhm,” he says, kissing you again with the same grip on your chin.

“But aren’t we breaking the creed?” you ask, pulling away again but hovering over his lips. 

“Look where we are, cyar’ika. We can just bathe in the Living Waters after.”

“I guess you’re right…”

“Relax, mesh’la. Let me take care of you.”

He gently pushes you so you’re lying on the stone floor. He pulls off one of his gloves and hovers over you, ghosting his fingers over the fly on your flight suit. You’re embarrassed by how wet you are already. But it’s natural given how much you’ve fantasized about this moment. You just didn’t expect it to take place here beside the Living Waters. 

He opens the fly of your flight suit and palms the wetness in your underwear. His mouth curves into a devious smirk before he bites his bottom lip. You look down between your legs and see the bugle in his fight suit, his cock hard and straining against the fabric. 

“You’re so wet, cyar’ika. I’ve barely touched you.”

You whimper in response and he chuckles darkly, watching as you writhe under his touch. He loves every minute of it. 

“Have you touched yourself and thought of me?”

Your mouth opens to respond but no words come out, surprised at his bold question. 

“You can tell me, cyar’ika.”

“Y-Yes,” you admit. 

“What did you think about?”

“Uh, something not too far off from this.”

“Tell me,” he repeats. 

“You sneaking into my room at night, touching me while I sleep.”

“Dirty girl,” he says, resting on the back of his heels. He opens your flight suit more, taking your underwear in his hands and ripping apart the fabric. You gasp but he doesn’t stop, tearing your underwear in half before pulling them off of you and tossing them to the side. 

“Din!” you say, turning your head and glancing at the strewn fabric. 

“Need you. Now,” he grunts, taking his pointer and middle fingers in his mouth, slicking them with his saliva. You spread your thighs apart farther, aching for his touch already. He slides his pointer finger inside you, curling it painstakingly slowly against your g-spot. 

“Mm, Din please, I need more,” you whine. 

“Are you begging?” he asks, hovering his face mere inches above yours. 

“Kriff… Yes, I am.”

“Say it.”

“I need more… more fingers,” you whimper.

“Good girl,” he praises, pushing his middle finger inside you. 

Soon the cavern is filled with your moans, echoes bouncing off the rocky walls. He brings his head over your cunt, spitting a wad of saliva over your clit before rubbing his thumb over it. Your back arches up off the floor and he steadies you with his other hand on your hip. 

“Wanna feel you cum all over my fingers, cyar’ika. Can you do that for me?” 

“Harder,” you beg. 

He obliges, picking up the pace of his fingers inside you and his thumb on your clit. With one last push against your g-spot, you cum, walls clenching and releasing his fingers. 

“Good girl,” he praises, astonished at the amount of wetness you produced. 

You ride out your high with a jumbled string of moans, whimpers, and curse words, letting your orgasm subside. He pulls his hand from you, holding his fingers above your mouth. They glisten under the dim lights of the mine.

“Open,” he commands. 

You do as you’re told, opening your mouth for him. He places his fingers inside your mouth and you taste yourself on your tongue. He guides your mouth close with a hand on your jaw, commanding again, “Suck my fingers.”

Once he’s decided you’ve done enough, he pulls his fingers from your mouth and grabs your chin, kissing you deeply while his other hand pulls out his cock. He rests on his heels and takes off his other glove, gathering your spend and slathering it on his cock. You prop yourself up on your elbows to get a look and somehow it’s more than you could’ve ever imagined it to be— long, thick, and uncut. 

“Are you ready, cyar’ika?” he asks, hovering over you again and coaxing you to lie back down. 

You nod and he thrusts into you slowly, burying himself down to the hilt. 

“You feel so good like this pussy was made for me,” he says, nestling his head into the crook of your neck and sinking his teeth in your skin. Your response is barely coherent, another mix of moans and curse words. 

“Use your words, cyar’ika.” 

“Harder, p-please. I can take it.” 

He pokes his head up and meets your gaze again, lips curled into that damn devious smirk. 

“I knew you could,” he says before kissing you. He draws his hips and slams into you. It’s a symphony of pants, whimpers, the sound of skin slapping against skin, and the wet, squelching sound your pussy makes. You tangle your hands in his hair, tugging on it lightly. He moans into the kiss and thrusts into you harder, until you cum around his cock. He pulls his head back and studies your face as you cum. Tears roll down your cheeks as your orgasm ripples through you, core muscles spasming erratically. 

“Good girl,” he says, repeating it over and over again while the pace of his thrusts never falters. 

He cums inside you, balls deep and hitting the deepest angles inside you. You’re filled with the warm feeling of his release, looking at his face as he cums. His eyes are closed and his mouth is open in a soft O. The curls on his forehead are matted with sweat and sticking to his forehead. You can’t help but absentmindedly bring a hand to his cheek and stroke his facial hair. He’s beautiful. 

He pulls out of you and sits between your legs. The post-orgasm clarity is settling in and you’re left with the reality of what just happened. You zip up your flight suit and sit up, looking at him with a wild expression in your eyes. 

“What now?”

“Into the waters we go.”

He puts his cock away and stands up, offering you his hand. You stand and walk down the steps with him, slowly submerging yourself in the water, never letting go of his hand. 

“Repeat after me: I swear on my name. And the names of the Ancestors, that I shall walk the way of the Mand’alor… and the words of the Creed shall be forever forged in my heart.”

You say the phrase back to him, looking in his eyes the entire time. Although you’ve just repented for your transgressions, you can’t help but feel like it doesn’t matter. The feelings you have for him only run deeper after what just happened. 

He leads you out of the water where you replace your helmets and reattach your jetpacks. He turns to you one last time before leaving and says, “No one can know.”

“No one can know,” you repeat before he takes off and you’re left with the stillness of it all, wondering if that will be the first and last time you have sex with your stepdad. 

[ciegeinc]

Watch "The Peripheral Season 1 - Teaser Trailer | Prime Video" on YouTube

[goodjohnjr]

What’s Your Biggest Fear? | The Peripheral Season 1 Clip | Prime Video

What’s Your Biggest Fear? | The Peripheral Season 1 Clip | Prime Video What Is It? The YouTube video What’s Your Biggest Fear? | The Peripheral Season 1 Clip | Prime Video by the YouTube channel Prime Video: What’s Your Biggest Fear? | The Peripheral Season 1 Clip | Prime Video Here is the description for this video: 20 questions much? Stream The Peripheral now, only on Prime Video. »…

[kaciidubs]

Binge Watch [Season 2 - Episode 1]

-🪼 [Jellyfish nonnie]

❣ Summary: You had plans to watch the new season of Jujutsu Kaisen with Jisung - turns out he had something else he'd rather do. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 880 ❣ Warnings: Slight Dom! Reader, Sub! Jisung, smut, fluff, slight humor, no anime spoilers, oral [fem receiving], desperation ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Han is referred to as Jisung, Ji, Sungie, and baby, Reader is referred to as Jagi, and baby, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

"I promise I'll still listen to the show!" He said.

"You won't even notice I'm there, please, Jagi." He begged.

Of course, you and your hubris went on to believe that Han Jisung was capable of multitasking while his head was between your thighs; which turned out just as you thought it would.

"Ji, can you be a little- mm, fuck, you be a little quieter? I can't hear the TV if you keep moaning like that."

You'd barely gotten into the first episode of the newest season of Jujutsu Kaisen and your oral-obsessed boyfriend had already made himself at home between your legs.

After arduously avoiding spoilers as best as you could, today was the day that you both would camp out on the couch in the living room and binge watch all of the episodes that were released.

That is, until he cuddled next to you with those pouty lips and round, pleading eyes as he begged for a quick round before you got started. Of course you denied him, knowing that if you'd given him the pass, then you wouldn't be watching any episodes until well into the afternoon.

No, today was binge watch day, and you would be vigilant and stand your ground against anything that tried to sway your plans.

That vigilance folded like origami the moment he said he'd do all of the work, and turned out to be a beautiful crane when he revealed that all he really wanted to do was give you head.

So, here you were; pajama shorts and panties in a pile on the floor, a couch pillow tucked under your head as you laid across the sofa with Jisung settled perfectly between your legs, lips already shining with your arousal.

"Mm, 'm sorry," he mumbled against your pussy, lifting his head to take a shivering breath, "you taste so good, I can't help it."

"Yeah, well, keep it down - we're missing crucial plot here and there's no time to rewi- Oh my god-"

You tossed your head back onto the pillow it was resting on, a shiver coursing through your body as his tongue met your pussy clit yet again, flicking and swirling around the bud like second nature.

"J-Ji, I'm serious, we made a p-promise!" Despite the discouraging whine in your voice, your hand made its way to the crown of his head, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging at the strands.

"I-" He released himself from your cunt with a wet slurp, "-said that I would listen, you're the one who's supposed to be watching!"

A flash of colors caught your peripheral, and you turned your head to catch the action happening on the screen - fully invested into the anime once more until you felt Jisung sliding a finger inside of you.

"I thought you only wanted to eat me out, mister." You tried to tease, though your pretty words lost their influence when he slid a second alongside the first, massaging you in a way that made your eyes roll.

You tried your best to focus on the show again, truly you did, but the unrelenting lapping of your boyfriend's tongue along with the steady thrusts of his fingers made dividing your attention ultimately useless.

"Just like that, baby - oh, fuck, your tongue feels amazing."

You could feel him melt at your praise, doubling his efforts and pressing his face impossibly deeper into your pussy - you weren't even sure if he was able to breathe at this point, but he didn't seem too bothered by it.

It wasn't too long until your legs were trembling, fingers tightening in his hair as you found yourself riding his fingers and mouth.

"Y-Yes, yes! Ji, I'm gonna come- 'm gonna come!"

He curled his fingers, flicking his tongue against your clit and sending you tumbling over the edge with a broken moan.

Jisung groaned blissfully, drinking you up like you were an ice cold bottle of water after days in the desert; eager tongue licking around his fingers as they tried to coax more of your cum out of you.

He mumbled something against your clit and you snorted out an airy laugh, "Didn't anyone teach you not to speak with your mouth full, baby?"

Loosening your grip on his hair, you watched as he lifted his head from the glory that was between your thighs, face flushed and eyes fogged over in a happiness only a few things could give him.

"We'll have to rewatch the first episode again," he rasped, making a show of licking his shiny lips, "because I definitely wasn't listening to it."

You rolled your eyes, registering the sound of the outro theme playing through the speakers, "Fine, but you better keep your mouth to yourself, you hear me? If you're good then maybe, maybe, I'll let you fuck me after episode five." Emphasizing your point, you clenched your walls around the fingers that were still inside of you, smirking when his jaw dropped.

"Can I eat you out again if we make it through the second episode?"

Grabbing the remote to the TV, you pressed the back arrow and watched the progress bar rewind itself, "I don't know, we'll have to see when we make it to the second episode."

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @instabull, @maximumkillshot, @bandolls, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @sunnyhonie, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @all4innie, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife

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[me-and-my-hyperfixations]

I appreciate how many people are already assuming Taigen is going find a way to follow Mizu to London.

Because yeah, he is that obsessive and unhinged about Mizu.

He was probably on that ship in the last scene of season 1, just waiting there in the hull.

Or angrily hanging onto the stern, only slightly out of Mizu's peripheral vision.

[cheesy09]

[CN] Kiro's Unbiased Mirroring Mind's Quest (Part 2)

🌸 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date that hasn't been released on the EN server yet! 🌸

[Note: This date was translated with the help of Google Translate]

Note: In order to better engage with this date, please read the main story (Season 1 at least), Clinic Date, and Unconditional Surrender Mind's Quest :>

Read Part 1: HERE

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 4]

MC: I'm home!

MC: Apple Box, you forgot to wipe your feet again! Kiro, help me get the towel, please!

Before Apple Box could run into the house, I grab him and call out into the house.

Kiro: Wait a minute!

After a while, the sound of footsteps begin to grow louder. I lower my head and pick up the scattered fur off of Apple Box and stretch out my hand towards the owner of the footsteps.

MC: Please help me, I can't ever trust Apple Box to wipe his feet... Huh?

I finally find something to be off in my peripheral vision. When I look up, I see Helios' face.

He is dressed in all black and fully armed, as if he is about to go out.

MC: Where are you going...?

Helios: I need to wrap up the BS stuff from the day before yesterday. This'll make it easier to move around.

MC: Oh~ so you're going to be a "bad guy" again.

After that night, I couldn't stop myself from teasing him like this. Sure enough, Helios raises his eyes towards me.

Helios: What sort of "bad guy" would hold a dog and wipe its feet?

Apple Box: Woof!

Apple Box responds as well. Helios holds up its paws and makes an attacking gesture at me.

Helios: If you use that term to tease me again, I will get angry.

MC: Hmph, you can't do anything to me when you're angry. The most outrageous thing that happened was the night before yesterday.

Helios arches his eyebrows a bit after hearing my provocation, as if my retaliation surprised him, and then raises the corners of his mouth.

Helios: Why do I feel... like Miss Chips has gotten a lot more arrogant towards me since that night?

I feel the same way.

After the night, there was indeed a small invisible stone that we both kicked away in tacit agreement.

While there's obviously no change in our dynamic, he seems to be a lot more relaxed than before.

I wipe off Apple Box's last paw and hand him the towel.

MC: Yep, I think a certain someone is satisfied with me as I am now.

MC: Go on~~ Wash the towel before you head out.

Helios: ......

Helios' throat freezes and he narrows his eyes - I have to admit that his current threatening look is indeed a bit more intimidating than Kiro's.

But only a little bit, I internally chastise myself.

We look at each other for about three seconds. Helios obediently takes the towel and goes into the bathroom to clean it.

He rinses out the water and turns around to glare at me.

Helios: I will find a way to "pacify" you.

MC: Yeah, okay~ But before you pacify me, don't forget to kiss me when you go out.

I naturally pucker my lips at him and Helios leans down. Just as our breaths are about to merge, he suddenly steps away.

Helios: ....It's time for the bad guy to go.

A chuckle passes by my ears, and the person in front of me quickly slips out the door. I am left momentarily stunned.

MC: KI! RO!!!

-

Is it possible that that night turned on some strange switch between us?

After Helios leaves, I lay on the sofa and watch TV absentmindedly, replaying the experiences from the past few days in my mind.

It constantly feels like we've gone from accommodating each other to competing with each other.

But this change of dynamic isn't annoying, but more...

MC: ...Tantalizing?

I can't help but cover my face after muttering that word and toss around a couple of times on the sofa.

The cell phone besides me suddenly vibrates twice, and Kiro's text message pops up.

I open the page and find a review link for a private club and a newly opened arcade.

Kiro: Which one do you want to go to?

MC: Are you done?

Kiro: Not yet, I'm currently beating someone up and texting you with one hand.

MC: ?? Kiro, why are you using force to solve things again?

Kiro: Under special circumstances, would you like me to give you a voice call for you to listen to?

Before I can reply, I get his incoming voice call.

MC: ....!

I subconsciously press the connect button and carefully hold the phone away.

??: Boss, what you're doing is completely contrary to our philosophy. Now...

What comes from the receiver isn't a horrifying scream, but an impassioned male voice speaking. I can't help but let out a sigh.

Helios: Did you hear that?

MC: Are you... in a meeting?

Helios' muffled laughter overwhelms the man's voice and reaches my ears.

Helios: Uh-uh. It's been going on for almost two hours.

MC: Then you lied to me about beating someone up!

Helios: I am beating them up.

Helios: Every time I hold a meeting, nothing comes from it except for intrigue, rhetoric and slogans. I beat them all up a hundred times in my mind.

MC: Pfft--

Helios doesn't even lower his voice when he says this. I can clearly hear the choking of a male voice, along with a low laugh coming from the side (A/n: Obviously Hephaestus, HAHA).

??: No one ever takes calls from outsiders at BS meetings. Helios, don't go too far!

Helios: Really? Then I'll be the first.

Helios: Also, the person on the phone is no outsider. Isn't that right, Queen?

Hearing his nervous and cold tone, all I can do is think about how funny and cute he was being, and I'm unable to keep myself from singing along with him.

MC: That's right, how can I be considered an outsider!

Helios: So, how does the "wife" think I should retort to that gentleman just now?

MC: There's nothing to refute. You're the Boss, let him listen to you!

Helios: Okay. [To the others] Queen says she wants you all to listen to me, so shut up.

Helios: [back to MC] Is there something else you wish to convey?

MC: Get off work quickly. A two-hour meeting is already long enough!

Helios: No problem, it'll be over now.

Helios: Don't forget to choose a date location for me.

After hanging up the phone, I carefully look at the two links he sent and send him a reply.

MC: Let's go to the arcade.

-

Even after I arrive at the arcade, my mind is still preoccupied with that phone call from earlier.

The fact is that Kiro rarely ever engages in such provocative high-profile things. He's always had the habit of shouldering responsibility alone first, and then asking me for my opinion.

As long as I show the slightest bit of hesitation or trepidation, he would retreat back to the safest boundary.

And now, when he gives orders to those people without warning, he keeps reminding me of the confession he made while holding my hand on the airship. (Reference to Unconditional Surrender Mind's Quest :>)

The same bravery, the same fearlessness.

I suddenly understand all the love scenes in those third-rate novels and tv shows that I often scorned.

--Turns out that this is really exciting!

I cough and try hard to control my expression so as to not let passers-by notice my mood being on a high.

I feel inexplicably good, and the wait is no longer as boring.

I put in coins and play for a while, but unfortunately I get nothing. So I send a message to Kiro.

MC: I clawed a bunch of air. Waiting for Master Kiro to come and help~

Three minutes later, I send a second message.

MC: This video arcade just opened. There are very few people...

After another five minutes, I sent a third message.

MC: I just took a look at the traffic conditions. Seems like there's a traffic jam. You don't need to worry~

Another ten minutes pass by... Kiro doesn't reply to single message.

Those high-strung emotions begin to ebb, and I become increasingly anxious about waiting. My thoughts involuntarily wander--

Besides the meeting today, did he have anything else to do?

But he was injured before, so he shouldn't be going overboard, he...

I lean against the claw machine. After ten minutes pass after the agreed upon time, unable to hold myself back any longer, I press the call button.

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[Memory Silhouette]

In the massive conference hall, the stagnant atmosphere slowly fills the air.

Hephaestus: It's "just" a laboratory for marginal projects, so shut it down and sell it as soon as possible? How generous of you guys.

BS Member: It's not you who invested money and manpower into it. There are many people eyeing this piece of meat, all competing with us.

BS Member: Why not let them have this small profit and use the money to do more profitable business? Wouldn't it be better to support the long-term development of BS?

Hephaestus: What kind of business is so profitable? It wouldn't "happen" to be covered by your industry again, would it?

As soon he finishes speaking, the man throws the document down and turns to Helios like a cat whose tail has been stepped on.

Everyone's eyes are instantly focused on the person in charge.

Helios casually leans back in his chair, twirling his dagger in one hand. His cold eyes do not even focus on the man.

He has long grown tired of these boring conflicts of interest.

Helios: I have nothing to say.

BS Member: That... why?

Helios: Too much nonsense and no focus.

Helios: I don't care what sort of blueprint you have. If you don't have anything practical to say, it's better to keep your mouth shut.

As he speaks, he hooks his dagger with his fingertips and slowly places it on the table. Then he raises his gaze and glances at the man coldly.

Helios: Otherwise, no matter how passionate your tone is, it'll just be an incompetent excuse.

The air becomes quiet, and he vaguely hears the members of BS taking a breath.

BS Member: Understood, I will report a more elaborate plan right now.

An impassioned report sounds again in the conference hall. Unfortunately, the part that implied interests is mixed with too much uncertainty. Helios almost hears through one ear and out the other.

He misses her voice a little.

He taps on his cell phone to send a message to MC, and after receiving a satisfactory response, he directly gives her a call.

BS Member: So you see, Boss--

Helios: Rejected.

BS Member: Boss, what you are doing is completely contrary to our philosophy. Now...

The call connects, and the girl's voice drowns out the man's noisy retort.

Helios: Did you hear that?

Helios can't stop himself from curling his lips when he hears MC respond. Compared to the obscure noises of the meeting, her voice is as clean as a clear spring.

Helios: Every time I hold a meeting, nothing comes from it except for intrigue, rhetoric and slogans. I beat them all up a hundred times in my mind.

The report immediately stops. From the corner of his eyes, he can tell that everyone in the conference hall is obviously shaken. Even Hestia has stopped recording, and Hephaestus can't help but laugh.

The boring meeting reaches its climax, leaving him very staisfied.

So the two of them continue to tacitly sing along, cutting off the meeting in time before it turned into a farce of mutual criticism.

Helios: Okay. Queen says she wants you all to listen to me, so shut up.

Of course, the consequences of making such shocking remarks are subject to a lot of discussion, bringing rise to new topics in the conference hall. Phrases such as "out of line" and "arrogant" are often heard from time to time.

Out of line? All he wants is to be out of line.

Helios nonchalantly holds his phone to his ear, seeming to appear particularly attentive.

Helios: Don't forget to choose a date location for me.

Everyone: ......

This sentence successfully puts an end to the final discussion. Only Hephaestus is unaffected by the uncomfortable atmosphere and shows a mischievous smile.

After hanging up the phone, Helios stands up under everyone's astonished gazes, passes the person giving the report, walks through the extra large conference table and heads straight for the door.

When he passes by Hephaestus, he casually mentions.

Helios: Give me the minutes of the meeting later. If you don't see a breakthrough, break it yourself.

That one sentence makes his position clear. Hephaestus nods, but some members speak up anxiously from behind him.

BS Member: But it's best to have the Boss in charge of the meetings... Are you in a hurry?

Helios doesn't stop, he opens the door and walks out. Only a cold and arrogant voice sounds from afar.

Helios: I'm going on a date.

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 5]

Beep-- beep--

The long busy tone strikes my eardrums again and again. As soon as the call finally connects, I speak hurriedly.

MC: Kiro, where are you right now? Why haven't you replied to any of my texts?

As soon as blurt out those words, I realize how off they sounded. After all, it's not like I waited long, so I quickly add on.

MC: I don't mean to rush you, but I'm afraid something might have happened to you on the way...

Helios: Why did Kiro's and Miss Chips' calls become about us worrying about each other again?

Helios interrupts my confession, his voice rising with obvious laughter.

Helios: Well, Obviously the way you spoke to Helios before made you seem very domineering. If I didn't know better, I would've thought there were two Miss Chips switching back and forth.

MC: I...

I am left speechless for a moment. After being treated like this by him, I seem to find that I have some "deferential treatment".

While I feel a little guilty, I can't help but be harsh.

MC: I'm not that sophisticated... I was obviously talking to Kiro, okay?

MC: Do you prefer me when I speak rudely?

Helios: I like your frankness.

He gives me a very straightforward answer.

Helios: Remember what I told you before? That I was worried I didn't give you enough security? (Reference to Unconditional Surrender)

MC: Mm, of course I remember.

He and I have been groping for a solution to this problem, and now, I have a vague feeling that we are close to finding it.

Helios: When you make requests and frankly express your emotions to me, I feel like you're giving all of yourself to me.

Helios: The good, the bad...

Helios: And me taking over all of this is what Kiro really wants to do.

Helios: So tell me, what are your true first thoughts that you want to convey to me?

MC: I....

You can be willful, you can be less scrupulous, and give yourself entirely to him.

I take a deep breath and purse my lips.

MC: I think it's annoying that Kiro hasn't replied to my messages for a long time. I'm growing impatient waiting!

MC: You should explain yourself to me immediately and coax me!

Helios: Hahahahahaha!

Unbridled laughter resounds from the other side. A long time passes before he stops, but his voice is still lilting.

Helios: You're really bad-tempered. That's nice.

Helios: Well... I originally skipped the meeting and wanted to rush over to meet you, but as soon as I got in the car, I was stopped by someone careless.

Helios: However I did follow your instruction and avoided using force myself. Instead I used the power of being the Boss to send them away.

Helios: The atmosphere was so tense at the time that I didn't pay attention to my phone for a moment. So I missed the messages you sent.

Abrupt music mixes into the receiver, accompanying his explanation, as if he was quickly walking through a noisy hallway.

Helios: Fortunately, I didn't miss your call.

Helios: And that concludes my report. Are you satisfied or dissatisfied with it, Miss MC?

MC: So-so.

I hum twice, already sweet and sour bubbles floating around in my heart.

MC: Now it's your turn. After all, you caught on to my feelings, and I need to take care of you.

MC: Kiro, what are your first thoughts?

Helios: Mine?

The sound of the music is clear, and it gradually overlaps with the tune coming from the game console next to me.

I'm not left with much time to put down my phone by the time that familiar breath approaches me.

Helios: When I went out, I still owed you a kiss.

Helios: It's time I made up for it.

A hand covers my eyes.

The shallow pecks have Kiro's taste, but as his entanglement deepens, it gradually turns into a more sensational request.

He ensnares me, trapping me between the machine and his arms, leaving me unable to retreat. All I can do is make do within this square inch of space.

--This isn't the way to kiss when out in public.

My fingers are a little weak and I can hardly hold the phone, so I give up struggling and grab his collar.

Leather, unfamiliar, not a style he often wears.

My covered sight makes it impossible for me to distinguish whether the one kissing me was the golden one or the silver one.

But no matter which one it is, it is Kiro who I love.

At some point, the music above my head has changed, and it seems like a century passes before he lets go of my lips.

With my sight clear, I see Helios' face.

I lick my moist lips, and when I speak, my voice sounds so hoarse that it surprises me.

MC: That... was not your first thought.

Helios: What was?

MC: That you owed me.

No hesitation. I have nothing to worry about around him. I repeat this silently in my mind and grab his collar a little harder.

MC: ...You didn't change back to Kiro's appearance. Is it to make dating easier?

Helios: No.

Helios stares at me, his eyes full of calm.

Helios: I feel that both Kiro and Helios belong to me, so I can show you whichever side I want.

I chuckle and raise my eyebrows at him.

MC: How are you going to show it? Or are you going to show me some Kiro style cuteness first?

Helios: .....

Helios: You really seem to be getting more and more devious.

MC: But you already admitted that you like me like this.

I answer confidently. My fingers loosen his collar and at the same time, slowly slide up his throat, along with his breathing.

MC: Are you really not going to show me my sun god?

MC: I'd love to see it.

His Adam's apple, against which my fingertips are pressed, violently slides up and down. Helios' blue eyes turn into a deeper indigo under the refraction of the light.

Helios: It's a bit weird to act cute with this face, can I ask for a compromise?

MC: What do you want to change?

He restrains my rebellious hand, and before I have time to react, I find myself falling into his arms.

Some overbearing friction renders me unable to move, and his playful laughter kisses the shell of my ear.

Helios: It's inconvenient to show it in an arcade, so I'll tell you another date location.

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

Masterlist: Here

[gragrace]

"Silent Threads"

Summary: In the midst of the intense investigations of Season 1, FBI profiler Spencer Reid finds himself captivated by a fellow agent. As they navigate a joint case, he observes her from afar, admiring the beauty in both her mind and actions. Though an unspoken connection blossoms, Reid grapples with the courage to bridge the gap between observer and participant, hoping that admiration might evolve into something deeper amidst the complexities of their shared professional world.

Word count: 309

AN: Second fic published, enjoy!🩷 not edited sorry for mistakes🌸

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

In the dimly lit bullpen, surrounded by the low hum of conversations and the occasional ring of a telephone, I couldn't help but notice her. You, the one who had caught my attention from across the room. Your hair fell gracefully around your shoulders, a captivating dance of waves that seemed to mirror the intricate patterns of your mind.

As you hunched over a stack of case files, your nose would scrunch up in concentration, a charming quirk that added to the allure I felt. I found myself admiring the subtle details, the way you approached your work with determination yet maintained a warmth that drew me in. We crossed paths during a joint investigation, our worlds colliding in pursuit of justice.

Our eyes met, if only for a fleeting moment, and a spark of connection ignited within me. But courage eluded me, leaving me to observe from a distance. I marveled at the way you navigated the complexities of the case, your intellect matching your beauty. In those stolen glances, I found solace, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of profiling.

I yearned to share a conversation, to delve into the depths of your mind and discover the intricacies that made you who you were. Yet, fear gripped me, keeping my words tethered to my thoughts. You became the silent muse of my days, a source of inspiration that fueled my dedication to the work we pursued.

Working with the BAU unfolded with its share of challenges and victories, and through it all, you remained a constant presence in my peripheral vision. The unspoken connection grew, an invisible thread weaving through the tapestry of our professional lives. As the cases unfolded, so did my admiration for your strength, resilience, and the unwavering passion you brought to the field.

Though our paths may have diverged within the Bureau, the memories of those shared moments lingered. In the quiet corridors of my mind, I replayed our encounters, each one etching a chapter in the story of an unspoken connection. And as the days progressed, so did the unspoken hope that one day, the courage to bridge the gap between observer and participant would blossom, turning admiration into something more profound.

[b00tyliciousbabe]

my baby daddies - ep. 1

my comeback era xx

arón piper x male reader

summary: inside edition the slutty thoughts i have for mr piper xx

notes: hi ppl, hope y’all missed me. i’m back, after like a year of hibernation, with another imagine! hope you guys are all doing well <3 i will be releasing 2 other series (‘the DILFs’ and a surprise one 🤭) so stay tuned! plus y’all better thank me, I lost this draft not once, but TWICEEEE! happy with this iteration though.

apologies in advance y’all this is gonna be chaotic…and my spanish is very rusty.

you met arón on the set of ‘elite’ because you were in between working with the hair and makeup team whilst designing the costumes. You had familiarised yourself with the entire crew and made loads of friends but from day 1 it was clear that your connection with him was unparalleled. the pinnacle of romantic chemistry. it’s giving one of those moments in the films when the two lovers have their meet cute, staring into each others eyes and the rest of the world is just in their peripheral because at that moment only two people exist - you and him. From then on, the whole crew shipped you guys together, with your work besties ester (who plays carla) and mina (who plays nadia) urging you to make out with him. He too was not exempt from this teasing, and a lot of his fellow male cast mates lowkey pressured him to ask you out. Whilst the premiere was coming up, you began sorting out the final designs for the next season, he ran into the studio wearing nothing but calvin briefs.

“Y/N, you’ve gotta help me.” He said desperately. You were taken aback. You’d never seen someone look so hot while they were needy.

“hey arón, what seems to be the problem?” He threw his hands up in the air in frustration. “can’t you see I’m practically naked?” You bit your lips taking in all of him “failing to see the issue here” which garnered a chuckle from him. “please y/n i’m so lost right now, i have no clue what to do” arón began panting which made you panic a lil bit. Placing your hands on his chest, you calmed his beating heartbeat “it’s okay, you know i’ve got you” Pulling one of your personal designs from the rack, you dressed him like he was your ken doll.

“i can do my own buttons you know,” he smiled watching you concentrate and manipulate the fabric to accentuate his features “i know but you wouldn’t be able to execute the vision i had for you in my mind” his eyes softened “you base your designs off me?” you looked up and met his gaze. “i’m not tryna give you a big head or anything, because it’s already quite elliptical, but kinda i guess.” he giggled as you watched his smile make his face look even cuter. “awww you got a lil crush on me,” aròn chuckled as you playfully beat his chest. “i mean, you’re handsome af I’ll give you that,” you felt his chest heaving with passion “why do you ask?” aròn held both your hands stopping you from working. “y/n,” you look up, all doe-eyed, surprised at the lack of distance between your lips. he breathed closer, opening the gates to your mouth as he graced you with a peck that lasted what felt like ages. the rest was history; that night he debuted the two of you as a couple to which was met with so much love.

you are at your gushiest whenever aròn smiles. it just makes you feel so happy seeing him so cute and all. stroking his cheek in the morning staring at him grinning in his sleep - probably dreaming of you.

the art of communication has always been strong in your relationship. your spanish-german bf was trilingual and meeting you pushed him to learn more on the side. your spanish was decent, certainly nothing to be proud but it improved drastically working on the show and being with aron. you were also highly proficient in two other languages and so he was adding to your roster. your relationship with him was a testament to the betterment of both people in a couple, you both pushed each other to try new things.

aron’s love language is definitely physical touch closely followed by gift giving, and so it made sense that he would buy you jewellery (even giving you his own) so he could both adore and adorn you. your favourite present he’s ever given you was the ‘A’ necklace he flaunts in a lot of his insta posts. he just loves seeing it around your neck - he’s yours. he even has an ‘A’ tattoo that now always reminds him of you.

even in the bedroom the necklace pays a huge role:

“my pretty little muñequita, fuck you feel so good.” he praised, railing you painstakingly slowly in missionary. you watched his eyes mirroring your overstimulated expression, as it darkened with his desire for more. you moved to his necklace which swung gracefully with every deep thrust. “ughhh” aròn’s moans got even loader you picked the pendant up and put it in between his teeth to muffle him. the sweat began to drip off his face as he began to imprint his teeth into the crystals, groaning in pleasure. “Nghhhh nghhh nghhh” it was getting too much for him as he dropped it, all red, hot, and bothered, directly into your mouth. You bit it seductively making your bf smile. other times when he’s hitting it from the back in prone bone, your hot bodies are cooled by the ice around his neck providing an amazing sensation when he spurts his warm cum inside you.

aròn is pretty decently hung, a bit on the skinnier side, nothing monstery, but deffo larger than average and it bends to the left. his favourite position is probably missionary; he wants to see the pleasure he’s giving you. the moans, your eyes, your lips, he wants to soak it all up and treasure every single expression you make whilst he’s inside you. you really like cowgirl as you’ve noticed it gets the most laughs and smiles from him, your biggest weakness. aròn loves it as well. the sight of you holding his pecs, bouncing up and down his pole as he grabs your ass sends him into overdrive. “shit mi amor, ughh, fuck, you sure know how to ride my dick.”

his kryptonite is oral. he’s such a whore for that mouth of yours. you guys waited for quite a while to have any nsfw activity because you wanted to establish a deep romantic connection first. so about 6 months into your relationship, you gave him head for the first time and OH MY GOSHHHH. you were coming back from date night, aròn wore an unbuttoned white dress shirt with chains and rings, all styled by you. it was raining and y’all decided to walk around the city and so tour chivalrous boyfriend offered his blazer to stop you from getting cold. you had never been more attracted to him. the way his wet hair laid messy on his head, abs protruded through his drenched shirt, it turned you on. so when you got into his apartment, you grabbed his hand and took him into the bedroom.

“despacio baby” he chuckled. you pushed him onto the bed, straddling and welcoming him with a kiss. you felt him grow beneath your ass, a sign for you to get on your knees. “y/n, wait what are you doing” aròn says as you began to unbuckle his pants. you didn’t hear, your brain too loud with horny thoughts to answer him. “cariño…” he held your hands at his belt. “are you sure you want to do this.” he asked worriedly, knowing how important sex was to you. “i’ve never been more sure of anything in my life” you mirrored his smirk, as he moved his hands, unbuttoning his shirt whilst you pulled his pants to his trousers. His tan cock stood strong, pink tip peaking through his freckled foreskin. he had a light brown bush leading up to his happy trail, urging you to lick down from his abs to his balls. “I’m so hard right now,” you started bobbing up and down and noticed how much of a panter he was. when he was close you started to deepthroat, to which he responded with a loud moan, yanking his dick out of your mouth and giving you the nastiest facial ever.

fucking loved it, as if he couldn’t love you more already…you were such a cockdrunk slut for him.

music plays a huge part of your relationship. when you guys are in the sheets, the symphony that comes from your bedroom is actually next level. oftentimes, aròn catches you humming and singing in the shower, to your embarrassment. “why are you hiding your face, your voice is incredible.” he praises. for his upcoming album, whilst in the studio, you came to check up on your bf bringing your freshly homemade brownies that you knew he loved. you knew aròn had been having a bit of a hard time completing one of the final tracks. as his team listened back to the record your bf was getting frustrated “ughhh it’s shit!” as he growled chucking song sheets across the room. “y/n you’ve got to speak to him, no one else is getting through to him and we are on a tight deadline” the executives who were present at the times warned. “he’ll be ready, i can assure you” you urged everyone else to leave the room. “aròn.” he didn’t answer. your tone softened, “papí…” you moved to him, noticing how tense he was getting. he looked up at you with teary eyes, hurting at how anxious he was getting. you knew what to do. “come on.” he followed u back into the recording booth. the track was playing, and all you did was talk, he spoke about his issues with fame, love, and life, and it was the perfect outro/interlude. you also added background vocals and harmonies into his tracks and the media went wild for it!