vinegar-doppio-official · 11 months ago
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I spent such a significant portion of my life wanting to die and anxiously waiting for the moment it would finally happen that now that i no longer want to die and i feel like I want to live, i remember i might just die anyway and i instantly start fucking sobbing
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authored-vanessa · 8 months ago
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“We don’t have to do this…” she trailed off.
It wasn’t until hearing those words, that I realized I had been white knuckling the steering wheel since either the moment I’d put the car in park or afterwards.
“I need to be able to do this” I said more for myself than Emily. I knew the chances were slim that anything untoward would happen at the mall today. But, I also knew that to most people, I was a guy wearing a skirt and makeup and a t-shirt bra stuffed with tissues. To Emily though — I was just Jessie. Funny, smart, and a great kisser. Her words, not my own currently mortified ego.
“Jessie, nothing is going to happen.” Echoing my own thoughts was something Em managed to do since the moment I met her, but right now? It meant just a little bit more, like she was willing the universe to make that statement true. Letting out the biggest sigh, I pushed open the door, making sure to swing my legs together so as not to flash anyone. Em let out a tiny yay that helped me relax. We were two girls, queer girls admittedly with its own set of problems, going shopping at the mall on the weekend. Today couldn’t possibly be any more normal. Emily stood waiting looking towards the mall with her hand outstretched waiting for mine. Once we’d locked together, it was like I had donned armor, I was confident and safe finally.
We went from store to store, looking at and trying out clothing, makeup, shoes, clothing, and stopping for a bite at the food court too. We had a few stares, but only when we got too loud. We were walking out of JC Penny when I froze, Emily’s arm jerking from the abrupt resistance. There, across the walkway outside the Victoria’s Secret, was Jacob and Leiah! Jacob was looking too bored while Leiah examined a lacy pink thong. No one from school was supposed to be here! Emily followed my gaze and, facing me, blocked both of us from being easily recognizable.
“It’ll be ok, they’re just shopping, like we are.” I could barely process what she was saying, but it pulled me out of my freeze nonetheless. I caught sight of the two walking off and as nonchalantly as I could muster, pulled Emily the opposite direction. My heart threatened to make a scene by jumping straight clear of my throat. We were two towns over, why were they here? We needed to leave but they headed in the direction of where I parked the car, maybe we could —
Emily pulled me into a kiss. And I… and I… I…
“Whoa Leiah, look at those two chicks making out, pretty hot, right!” Jacob’s voice snapped me not just back to where I had been but through the roof of it. I felt too hot, too exposed, like a mouse being eyed by a cat with nowhere to run.
“Jacob” Leiah whined. “Don’t be so gross! C’mon we have better things t— wait, is that Emily Breacher and David Markos?”
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Emily had pulled from our kiss to urging me to just walk away and hopefully avoid confrontation.
“Oh shit that is D-dog” and I hated when he called me that! “The freak is wearing a skirt and makeup!”
At that, I bolted, sprinting past them, leaving Emily, Jacob, Leiah, and everything else behind. I ran and ran and ran, each new pair of eyes on me make it so much worse! I had to get away and fast. Before I knew it I was at my car, slamming the door. I hadn’t even noticed I was crying until I finished climbing into my little Camry. A new wave of guilt and pain blossomed in my chest, sobs causing me to shake. Freak flooded my mind, drowning out any other thoughts. I began to openly wail, sound making its way past the tightness in my throat, painful and raw.
I jumped, like actually jumped when Emily knocked on the passenger window. I unlocked the car and let her in and we sat there in silence for, who knows how long. When I finally managed to control myself enough to look at her, her reddened eyes and streaks on her face showed me she’d been crying too. I grabbed her hand, started the car, and drove off without any other words.
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mr-moose-man · 3 years ago
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Who are you, Really?
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PART 1  PART 2  PART 3  PART 4  PART 5
Summary: Michael watches his show to destress after getting fired. Ennard however, is determined
TW: Darkness, Murder mention, Cigarette use, swearing, also he makes an oral sex joke lmao
This will be a multiple chapter series. Let me know if you want to be on the tag list.
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He taps the top of his cigarette and let the ash fall into the tray. The fridge light illuminates the kitchen, but more importantly, that fucking gift basket of exotic butters. It’s like, half the size of his TV! Paycheck was ridiculously low cause of these damn butters. Michael takes a drag of his cig and stares daggers into the basket. 
The microwave interrupts him with a characteristically loud beep. He closes the fridge and takes the popcorn out of his radiation box, almost burning himself on the side. “Hm,” he thinks to himself. “Use bourgeois butter on popcorn…or sell it to my neighbors..?” He looks between his fridge and the bucket, but ultimately decides he needs the money more than he needs exotic tasting popcorn.
“As the trees sway in the wind,” the narrator begins as ‘The Immortal and the Restless’ smear across the screen. “So do the emotions of star-crossed lovers!”
“You burned down my house!?” Vlad exclaims.
“You call that a house? It was like a morgue in there!” Clara replies, pointing an accusing finger at him.
“I may be undead, but you sure are heartless!”
Michael pops a kernel into his mouth. “Ooh shit!”
“You need to see your son!”
“The baby isn’t mine!”
“He ate the cat!”
Vlad smirks, “Sounds like something he got from your side of the family”
“Clara’s family eats cats???”Michael thought with a chuckle. “She must have lesbian moms or something. I dunno.”
“How’s this? I’m keeping the diamond ring,” she states proudly
“Jokes on you! I found it in a kids meal!”
“You bought a kids meal?” Clara clarifies, admiring the ring on her finger. “Oh Vlad!~”
Vlad opens his undead arms to her. “Clara!~” 
The two kiss with great joy! 
“What about the baby!?” Michael questions, throwing his hands into the air
“As the hair stands on the back of a cat stands up straight, so also does the love of Vlad and Clara stand up against all obstacles! But what about the baby?”
“That’s what I’m saying! Oh shit my popcorn-”
“Stay tuned for next season for more answers and more~”
The television cuts into static. Shouldn’t it being going to commercial break? Something’s not right. Did he forget to pay his bills? That’s probably it, he does that sometime. It makes his bank, and himself, cry everytime. 
Out of the static, there’s a familiar sound, dragging itself across the carpet. Someone is in his house. Oh fuck someone is in his house. Michael stands up…slowly. The dragging is slow, heavy...and strong. He sees it, the reflective white paint out of the corner of his eye. 
“What the fuck!” Michael throws his armchair in front of him in a blind panic. He chucks his popcorn at the robot and makes a run for it out of the apartment. It wails and screams as it makes chase. He makes it to his front door and sprints out of it. He closes the door, but is stopped by its hand wedging itself between the doorframe. “How did you get here! Get out of here you fuck!”
“Please! Please! We’re not here to hurt you!”
“Don’t believe it! Out! before I call an exorcist!”
“I can’t go out! They’ll destroy me!”
“Good!” He slams the door on it’s hand, causing it to retract it.
“You were right, there was a misunderstanding. You’re not the man we were looking for.”
Michael didn’t respond to it. Maybe if he was quiet enough, it would just leave. He fishes a pack of cigarettes out of his pants pocket. Fuck…no lighter.  He puts one in his mouth anyway.
“There was someone we knew. We don’t fully understand why we know this, or how we ended up like this. He killed us, trapped us.”
“Sounds like a trip.”
“But you know Evan?”
Michael bites down on his cigarette. “I did, yes”
“Did?” It asked. “Oh right, you said you killed him.”
“Yes yes I remember perfectly.”
“Who were his parents?”
“Isabella and William. Why?”
“Ah, that was his name. That was her name too. Who were their children?”
“Evan, Michael, and Elizabeth. Elizabeth went missing when I was in middle school, and Michael is well, me.”
“Elizabeth didn’t go missing. She was killed. Isabella didn’t leave to go find her. She was killed.’
“How the fuck do you know that?”
“We are them, partially.”
“How?”
“We don’t know. Ghosts?”
“Didn’t know my dad liked the occult,” Michael chuckled.
“Didn’t know that either.”
“So to be clear, you are my mother and my sister trapped in a metal body trying to kill the man that ruined our lives?”
“Yes.”
“That’s fair. Well, I’m not my dad, so why are you here?”
“Maybe you could help us find him?”
Michael thinks for a moment, pulling at his hair.
His door opens to Michael with his hands in his pockets, cigarette hanging from his mouth, looking down at the robot. “You got a light?
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Tag List
@hyperfixations-org @rockeater @literallyneurodivergentandaminor​
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doomdaysdecays · 3 years ago
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👀👀 probably a nsfw prompt but what about a whumpee who has to sheepishly ask the whumper for a favour? maybe they’ve had a bad day need it
CW: choking, hairpulling, biting, past noncon, dubcon touching, sexual, fade to black dubcon
Whumpee wanted to disappear.
They felt their skin crawl at the soft warm breath tingling on their neck. It was gentle, it was something. It wasn’t enough.
Some loved when a cat curled up on their lap, purring contentedly as it did. Whumper preferred Whumpee over the sweetest kittens. They were a light weight on his lap, not crushing albeit grounding him.
Reading like this, his angel pressed up against his own body and reveling in the peace, was his resort. What he looked forward to everyday at the office, every goddamn hour, when the new secretary stuck her head in and started off with “Sir” and all he could see was Whumpee.
Yes, besides the beautiful ordeal of making them cry, this was his highlight.
Whumpee swallowed hard as Whumper turned another page. The way his fingers ghosted over the paper just long enough for them to be mesmerized by it. It could be their skin under his fingertips. It could be so much more.
Whumper raised his hand to his lips to wet a finger. They swallowed, once more, and they reached out. And suddenly it was Whumper’s wrist in their timid grip and Whumper stilling behind them. Whumpee held their breath, not quite to punish themselves but certainly out of habit. Their pulse - thrumming.
“Love?” Oh thank the Heavens he wasn’t mad.
Whumper shook off the mild bewilderment soon enough, pricking an eyebrow as amusement replaced any confusion that Whumpee’s initiative might have caused. “What does my baby want?”
They couldn’t have seen themselves doing this a month ago. Whumpee’s lips parted.
“Let me...” They trailed off as they bowed their head, lips closing around Whumper’s finger.
Whumpee found their tongue playing with it, taking it in, and God did their face heat up when Whumper’s finger brushed the roof of their mouth with full intention.
They only registered the second digit when they choked on it.
“Enjoying yourself?” Whumper rasped against their neck. His fingers thrust in, unceremoniously, with a general lack of sensuality as Whumpee gagged and sputtered and clutched at his wrist.
Whumper rolled their tongue between his fingers until they were a drooling fucking mess, staining their own shirt and sobbing to be released. Shit, a pretty silver gag and some fingers in their mouth and Whumpee would shatter in a way that was just that much more interesting. He hadn’t considered it before.
By the time he stopped abusing their throat, Whumpee’s cheeks were as wet as their chin and their frail shoulders shook as Whumper wiped his fingers on them.
“I-I’m so-sorry, Whu- Sir-!”
“Okay, baby, okay.” He laughed, pulling them into his arms. “Next time you might want to ask first, hm?” A frantic nod. Silence. Whumper kissed sweetly into their neck, soft vibrations of a chuckle against the sensitive skin. “What’s the matter with you today?”
Whumpee closed their eyes as the offending tongue caressed their sweet spots, circling and dragging where it made them shiver the most. Their teeth dug into their own bottom lip as though to keep themselves from speaking. But Whumper had asked them a question.
“Need...” They mewled at the new sensation, Whumper biting their shoulder before littering it abundantly with kisses. Whumpee’s eyes had watered again. “Need, need you, p-please...”
And Whumper sank his teeth into them once more. This time, they cried out a pathetic wail and they felt him smile, broad and contentedly against the bitemarks left in his wake. “Need me, Whumpee?”
They knew what it sounded like. A demand so pitiful, it was ludicrous. After what had been, what they’d prayed would never be again.
“Need me for what, sunshine?” Whumper’s fingers trailed dangerously along their throat. Their breath hitched.
His hand settled around their neck, and he squeezed. “Need me to do this?” he mocked, relishing in the way they tensed. “Hm, no. That doesn’t seem to be it.”
Whumper released them, only to force their head back with a fistful of their hair in his grip, looking into those pleading eyes, drinking in them. A familiar twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Huh? Wrong again?”
Whumpee felt the fine streaks of new tears running down their burning cheeks, doing nothing to cool them. Their body convulsed as if it was begging.
“Fuck me, please,” they blurted.
Nothing came in response. No teasing, no taunting, but before Whumpee could curl in on themselves in shame, they found themselves lifted up bridal style. Whumper had that sparkle in his eyes again and they felt sick.
“You fucking slut,” he whispered, not necessarily angry as he did but with an edge to it. Whumpee had a feeling that this was just the start of a monologue.
Moments later, moments that Whumpee only registered through a haze, they were tossed onto the bed, senses overloaded as they were straddled, Whumper’s sneer above them.
“You just pretended you hated it back then, didn’t you?” he muttered, pushing their hips together. Whumpee suppressed a moan. He nodded as if they’d proven his point. “Begged me to stop like the little cocktease you are. But not this time, baby.”
He pried their shirt open, lips curling into a smirk at the way they whimpered. “You asked for it and you’re sorely mistaken if you think I don’t see this as my cue to fuck you stupid.” Whumper snorted. “More stupid, anyway.”
Panic gripped Whumpee, dull and cold, nothing like the sharp heat of the pain Whumper had inflicted on them with his teeth. They fought weakly but they fought, trying to squirm out of their position under him. Whumper did nothing to stop their struggle, in fact, he seemed rather amused by it. “Endearing.”
Whumpee keened when he closed the space between them, his body clung to theirs like a fragrance as they kissed. He kissed.
They had nothing to weep about. Whumpee wanted this, to feel desired, drown the pain and conscience in pleasure. They should have known this wasn’t how they would achieve those things. Whumper’s lust was raw and he craved to hurt.
He’d make it hurt.
The first and last time Whumper had forced himself on them, Whumpee had hit him, more horrified of being violated than the consequences of fighting back. They’d fled the room and locked themselves in the bathroom for two hours. Cried, cried, and cried some more. Until they were numb and came out, and Whumper hugged them.
“Mine,” he hissed into their ear, finally pinning Whumpee down on the bed. “Not a single sound out of you unless you’re moaning my name.”
He’d teased them earlier, yet his own composure was practically in shambles. Whumpee wondered if they were truly the desperate one.
Whumper let his hand explore while the other was buried in their hair and Whumpee braced themselves. Maybe it would feel good. Some of it. This was their fault.
They couldn’t help the tears in their eyes when they heard it in their ear, that voice tantamount to the effect of mad honey.
“I knew you’d want me eventually.”
tags: @neutron-stars-blog @whump-time-babey @w-whump @yet-another-heathen @tsoa-enthusiast @happy-whumper @freefallingup13 @mascmasochist @wildlywhumping
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cloudytamaki · 3 years ago
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hq & a s/o with a pet that hates them
inspired by: @.despairultra’s piece with the bnha boys and a pet that hates them, go check it out <3
warnings: everyone’s timeskip, mildly suggestive, swearing, crack viv’s notes: the animals in this piece are all pets i’ve met before, including my own :> thought it’d be fun for them to make an appearance !!
— IWAIZUMI HAJIME
• he was walking into your living room when he saw a medium-sized black cat laying on the couch, staring at him with half-lidded eyes, just.. watching
• so he closes the door and locks it, walking past the cat
• but she’s not going to let him pass, and starts growling like a dog
• he’s still trying to slink past her and makes a disgusted face at the animal
• but the dear animal isn’t having any of that bs
• she jumps off the couch and starts walking up to him, growling and hissing and all that
• he’s backing up but the cat is walking closer and oh shit the cat’s losing her fucking mind
• “y-y/n?!” he calls, a hint of desperation in his voice
• “yeah?” you come running down the stairs to see your 5′10 boyfriend pressed up against the door
• “what’re you doing?” you swoop in and grab the cat, who seems to calm down a little bit except for the fact that she’s still death glaring him
• “is that your cat?” bitch of course she is fym
• “uh yeah. did she cause any trouble?? her name’s tina!”
• “tina?” he grimaces, stepping away from the door to get a bit closer to you when tina throws her paw out in an attempt to claw him
• you’re standing there like ��� because you didn’t know your cat had such a profound hate for hajime
• “don’t be afraid of her!” you finally say, stepping back, “i’ll put her upstairs.”
• needless to say, every time he goes over to your place, he avoids the cat at all costs, and she does the same
— KAGEYAMA TOBIO
• he was walking out into the backyard with two glasses of ice water, so you guys could sit down and watch nature and talk or whatever
• anyways he’s using his foot to close the sliding door when a tricolor dog comes running up to him with a loud ass bark
• it’s making all these eardrum-bursting barks and kind of walking around him, nipping at his heels to try and ‘herd’ him
• tobio is fucking terrified and he’s trying not to spill the glasses of water as he tries to fend off the animal by backing away and moving his feet away
• “shitshitshit— Y/N?!” he’s panicking
• you run over and get the dog away from your panting and distressed boyfriend
• he looks down to see that he’s spilled water all down the front of his clothes </3
• “sorry, tobio! this is dylan, he’s completely harmless.” you reassure him
• he makes the biggest ‘😐’ face ever, not at all amused
• “the dog was biting my ankles and barking like hell.” passive-aggressive complaining from him
• even after explaining the sheltie breed to tobio, he still doesn’t like the dog
• now he’s always glaring at dylan, literally every time he goes to your house
• this man deadass holds a grudge against a dog-
— OIKAWA TORU
• he’d never gone to your house before, so he had no idea you had the kind of pet you had
• you’re cleaning indigo’s terraruim downstairs, earbuds in as you jam to your favorite song
• upstairs, toru’s sitting on the couch, scrolling through his instagram feed when he feels something oddly smooth rub over his foot
• mans looks down to see a 5 foot dark black-blue snake making its way across the living room
• he jumps up with a very loud shriek, knocking over the living room lamp as he scrambles to the top of the sofa, deadass shuddering and gagging at it
• but indigo is curious, so he slithers up onto the sofa, right next to toru
• another scream from him, he’s literally wailing as he runs into kitchen, grabbing a kitchen knife in shaky hands, WHEEZING IN FEAR AS HE GETS ON TOP OF THE DINING TABLE
• I AM PASSING AWAY 💀💀
• he’s panicking, the snake is moving so goddamn fast – where did it even come from??
• you can hear all of his screams while you dry the terraruim, thinking everything’s fine and he’s just laughing at tiktoks
• you’re so far off pls-
• then you can hear your name “Y/N PLEASE GET OVER HERE!!”
• so you go upstairs and see your boyfriend perched on top of the dining table, losing his fucking mind
• “indigo!” you run over and pick up the snake, not him
• he’s offended while you make sure the snake isn’t hurt or anything
• “WHAT ABOUT ME??” you help him off the dining table, still holding the snake
• “are you okay, toru? what’s going on with you?”
• “what’s going on with me?? that snake chased me!”
• “indigo? he’s not poisonous.”
• toru’s upset that you’re so nonchalant; a single look at the snake reminds him of this embarrassing time, never again
• has a deep grudge against indigo now, rip
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mandalorewhore · 4 years ago
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Hunter (formerly Hunter and Prey)
Cis-Female Reader Insert/ Din Djarin
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Gif by @themandaloriandaily
Thank u to @cptnbvcks, @whenimaunicorn, and of course @no-droids for the inspiration and your superior writing skills, whenever i was stuck on a portion i would reread all of u guy’s works and feel inspired again
Rating: Explicit Content Warnings: Exhibitionism, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Breath Play, Deep Throating, Masturbation, Pining, Depictions Of Violence, Canon-Typical Violence Words: 11k AO3 LINK
Summary: AU where Din Djarin stays with the mercenary group owned by Ranzar Malk. Takes place a few years before Din is contracted for Grogu's bounty. You're a merc trying to make a name for yourself in the group when circumstances end up having you run away with Din. You become his hunting partner in order to support yourself but you cant help falling in love with him, even as trained killers chase you across the galaxy.
FULL FIC:
As a mercenary, you wouldn’t consider yourself an overly sensitive person. 
Maker knows you wouldn’t have lasted a week in the job if you couldn’t handle your emotions. Although you don’t consider yourself entirely void of empathy, having a sense of detachment is useful when your waking hours are spent committing crimes throughout the galaxy.
          So why the fuck are you so jealous right now?
          The obscene moans and harsh slapping that echoes throughout the hangar shouldn’t inspire a larger reaction than disgust as you dutifully continue to repair the blaster marks on one of the rogue-class starfighters. Luckily, it seems that most of your immediate associates have ran off into the deeper areas of the bay to toll your last mission.
Excluding three members, you guess.
          Thank the fucking Maker Migs isn’t here You think bitterly, willing the sparks to fly higher and machine rumble louder as you carefully manipulate your buffing laser on the metal surface. His snarky attitude certainly wouldn’t lessen your misery as you try to drown out the sounds of sex. Raunchy words hiss, bouncing off the metal walls, before finding your feet and slithering up your limbs with a foulness that chokes you. Controlling the hot spinning laser seems to stoke your inner seething more than it distracts you. 
“Mando! Stars, keep-fuck- keep doing that,” you hear Xi’an echoing. Fucking Xi’an. She knows what she’s doing to you. The cruel Twi’lek is far too observant to not know that she is practically comm-station broadcasting her sexual exploits to the entire crew, and with that sheer volume, might as well the entire galaxy. You truly wouldn’t care about her sex life if it wasn’t blatantly obvious that Xi’an was doing this to mock you. You know this is meant for your ears only, a repeat of every other time you’ve found yourself stuck with this chore.  
Even if she wasn’t directly rubbing the fact that she was fucking the Mandalorian in your face, you don’t doubt that she would find a way to taunt your nonexistent sex life just for the fun of it. Another salacious moan echoes in the bay causing you to cringe and slightly jerk the repair tool in frustration.
Fuck, why did it have to be Mando? Aren’t there enough people on this kriffing space station to warm her bed? And how is he being so quiet right now? After a second you remember that’s a stupid question, considering he is probably the quietest person you’ve ever met.
His reservation serves to intimidate your targets, all the while unintentionally stoking that warmth in your belly when you are near him. His all-encompassing presence when he enters a room strikes fear in the hearts of the opposition, meanwhile, you are secretly pressing your thighs together in desire, enjoying the spectacle?.
 You’ve found yourself reveling in the few jobs where Ran’s strategy has you in a decoy-role, weaponizing your feminine charm to lull your target into a false sense of power. The muscle composing of Burg and Mando make quick work of those men once they're thoroughly wrapped up in your wiles. Despite being placed together for jobs on several occasions you’ve never actually had a real conversation with him. 
You’re too scared to talk to him, a near-silent man covered head to toe in Beskar, but you make money killing people and robbing gangs every week. It would be funnier if that purple freak wasn’t so vile. You don’t even know how to casually approach him.. Nice job killing those guys while I manipulated them into trying to fuck me! I’m pretty good with a gun, too. Maker, it’s so ridiculous that you don’t even bother with trying to figure it out. Other fantasies are easier to picture, such as the thought of him strolling across the room to slot himself in-between your spread legs, directing that intensity into your willing, aching body.
  This infuriating crush is why you suppose that your envy wouldn’t be as biting if you caught some sort of noise from the man during these displays of exhibitionism. It would give you something to repeat in your mind while you stow away in the late hours of the night seeking your own release. You guess the inability to hear him is proof of how far Xi’an is pushing her volume. It’s all just to piss you off. 
“Uhg, how miserable..” You mutter to yourself, allowing a little moment of self-indulgent angst. Typically, you wouldn’t allow yourself to wallow like a petulant teen seeing as you’re a literal fucking criminal. 
I’m supposed to be a hardass, dammit you think, spirits low as repairs wrap up far too swiftly. You swear you’ll buff right through every layer in the ship if you keep procrastinating on finishing your job and wandering into the tucked away fresher for a shower. Wandering past….them.
Wherever they are choosing to fuck can’t be that far considering the slap of skin on skin is already fucking loud enough. The sounds seem to be emanating from a vent not too high up the wall, you deduce it connects to one of the bunk rooms not too far from the landing pad you’re working next to. It really is fucking loud with all these metal surfaces to echo off of. Making your way to your small bunk might cause you to go deaf and if the last thing you ever hear is Xi’an wailing as she rubs in the fact that you aren’t fucking Mando, well, you might just take this spinning laser to your head. Unfortunately, at this point, the exterior of the gunship couldn’t possibly get more pristine.
Sighing in defeat, you push up from your crouching position on the metal floor and start to assemble your tools for clean-up while the sounds of Twi’lek pleasure predictably pick up  in volume.
“Fuck, fuck-Ah I’m close, I-I’m going to-“ A literal howl pierces the air as your gut twists with discomfort. Fuck, this is so awkward... and like, weird? Does he consent to this? Does he like that we can hear it? Maker.. Pushing that thought out of your mind you start to jog to your goal of the darkened hall that leads to the station fresher, still so wrapped up in jealousy that you almost miss the rough modulated growl accompanying the scream.
 O-oh.
Oh shit. Was that Mando….Moaning?
The swirling jealousy is suddenly overtaken by a- stars- painful heat, so debilitating that you stumble and almost double over with an intensity that shoots through your groin. Okay well, now you feel like an actual pervert. This display of eroticism was engineered by Xi’an to make you uncomfortable, not so painfully turned on that it’s dizzying. You vaguely register a growing slickness between your legs as you hurry along the cold hallway, desperate to drench yourself in icy water and pretend to forget the sound of Mando moaning.
Shit, Maker, was he cumming? Was that what he sounds like when-- no stopstopnope. Don’t think about that. Your inner monologue is running amuck as you desperately try to block it out. This feels kinda gross, as if you’re a greasy peeping tom spying on Mando’s private endeavors even though this whole situation was shoved in your face to make you ache in countless, longing ways.
That deep growl repeats in your mind as you hum nonsensically under your breath, tapping your skull as if you can knock the sound out of your consciousness despite being well aware that you will go to your fucking grave with every detail. The top of your inner thighs is so embarrassingly slick that you have to resist waddling along the corridor to the showers. Just as you are about to round the first corner, one of the side bunker doors slides halfway opens with a whoosh. The smirking Twi’lek saunters out like the loth-cat who got the cream.
I suppose she did get the cream... Your split-second of sour mirth is further spoiled as Xi’an slides the rest of the door open revealing the gleam of silver beskar and red steel as the ever still Mandalorian adjusting his…thigh armor. You spy a large vent at the junction between wall and ceiling, confirming your earlier suspicions that she chose this location on purpose. Quickly glancing between Mando and Xi’an, your face uncontrollably floods with fire when her giggles pierce the air. You register his helmet tilting toward you right as Xi’an’s tongue slowly extends to liiiick her fingers, any curiosity at his gesture burning away in revulsion.
What does she get out of making everyone uncomfortable? You think to yourself, wanting to squirm away from the obscenity but resolving to hold your ground.
“Xi’an,” You greet the two shortly, hands linked behind your back. “Mando.”  He nods.
“Sorry,” Xi’an offers in a voice devoid of guilt. “Were we being too loud? I would never want to distract you from your… projects.” Her taunting smile curls so widely that it is almost disturbing. “What would the team do without our junior mechanic!”
Her cackle rings through the suddenly freezing hall as you spin on your heel and try to not look like you’re fleeing. Red is tinting the edges of your vision from her insult while tears threaten to flood your eyes out of embarrassment.
You need to get to that shower quickly.
    ----------------
  As the tepid shower rains down on your flushed body, you childishly wonder if you should run away. Or rather, if you could run away considering you technically don’t own any of the ships currently residing in the hangar bay. Although you technically have free reign to pilot most of the spaceships available, that freedom entirely applies to transportation between merc assignments . The thought of running away from your current acquaintances on a stolen ship is not appealing. In fact, the only crew member owning a personal vessel happens to be Mando, his Razer Crest gunship was often subject to your mechanic skills.
Mando, who always offered a genuine “Thank you.” after you’d spend hours touching up the vessel’s damage procured from the rare missions he lent its flight to. Mando, the person who you are presently trying to not think about while naked and still trembling with emotion.
Your sillier fantasies would sometimes involve stealing away in his gunship, hand pressed over his chest and leg thrown across his lower body like a romance novel while he skillfully pilots the ship away. Kriff, you felt like a soft girl whenever you run this scenario through your mind, so cliché and campy that you cringe at yourself. Thus, this particular dive into your consciousness was reserved for special moments such as lying in bed after a strenuous job, or after long days spent working through that junkyard of hangar bay trying to strong-arm your way into earning worth in the company. Private moments where you are finally comfortable letting your guard down to drift aimlessly throughout maladaptive daydreams.
Not so soft fantasies exist in your mind as well. Once again that modulated groan springs to the forefront of your mind causing your clit to throb softly. The conflicting feelings of embarrassment, rage, and painful arousal serves to create an energizing cocktail that goes straight to your pussy.
‘Fuck it,” You whisper breathily to yourself, “Nows as good a time as ever..” your fingers are trailing down your stomach as you say the words out loud. You adjust the water to be slightly warmer and sigh as the comfortable heat compliments your tickling fingers. If only you could replace your hands with the significantly larger leather-clad ones of a certain bounty hunter. The thought spikes your arousal as you lightly brush against your mound, choosing to tease yourself as images flash through your mind. The armor-clad Mandalorian gripping the back of your neck to you press facedown on the floor of his ship and take his cock. Or your legs spread wide across his hips, crushing your pussy on his groin while he’s seated in the pilot seat of his ship.
Your fingers dip slightly into your slick hole then drag up to your clit causing you to bite your free palm and hold back a moan. Eyelids heavy, you give in to the fantasies and begin to earnestly rub at your clit.
“Mmf Maker, f-fuck..”, you whine into your hand at the thought of him breaking your pussy open. You just know he fucks hard -- it’s a given that the crazy Twi’lek would be one for rougher sexual affairs. Someone who spends nearly every moment of life feeling nothing but the weight of fabric and beskar on their skin must be so fucking touch starved. You bet the opportunities he’s had to feel a tight cunt wrapped around his length would completely overwhelm his restraint. Muffled moans begin to fill the fresher as your fingers speed up between your legs, head hanging forward into the metal wall and water dripping off your brows.
Your eyes flutter shut as you pull your hand from your lips to tug at your hardened nipple, other hand still between your legs, imagining a dark visor being trained on your soaking wet, writhing body. The image sends a shooting pleasure up your spine as you spin around and press your back to the wall. Imagining his dark form watching you from the other side of the gathering steam, you open your thighs and spread your labia apart, sighing at the wet sound it makes. “Like what you see, hunter..?” you whisper into the empty room wishing he would find you in this shower.
Removing your fingers from your nipple you reach down to your crotch and greedily fill yourself with two fingers, pumping in and out as your other hand works at your swollen clit. The volume of your now unmuffled pleasure is likely overheard by anyone on this section of the station, but you can't find it in yourself to give a shit. If Xi’an can screech out her orgasms at any given opportunity to fuck with you then let them hear.
Let him hear.
Your imagination runs rampant at the notion that he could hunt down your gasps and take care of you himself, causing you to gasp louder. S-shit people can hear you, you just won't say his name out loud, it's fine, it's f-fine- The thought of him discovering you here is so hot that it's blinding, and suddenly your orgasm is rushing up to crush you entirely.
Your lower half is locked tight then suddenly your knees buckle and you’re cumming hard. Your choked gasps cutting through the steamy shower like blaster fire as you peak higher, uncontrollably calling out for the Mandalorian while white-hot pleasure wrings you dry. Let him hear you crying for him as you gush around your fingers, convulsing in bliss.
     In the shuddering aftershocks, you don’t hear the uncharacteristically loud padding of leather boots retreating away from the fresher door.
    ------------------------------------------
    You’re good at your job. You wouldn’t be doing it if you truly couldn’t handle the ordeal of being a mercenary. The whole point of the job is to take care of the dirty work, so those far disconnected wouldn’t have to dwell on their choices too hard. You’re used to not asking questions, motivated by credits and reputation alone. But in moments like these, a job going this awry… well, you just feel like pure shit. This hit was way too easy and far too filthy even for your career mostly consisting of professional filth. It was so glaringly obvious that even if your associate’s numbers were sliced in half, you would still sweep the ground with your winnings.
And what meager earnings they are.
The crew’s assignment this round was to hit a casino shipment just outside the outer rim planet of Cantonica. Due to the Razer Crest’s ability to fly under the radar of both Imperial and New republic records, Ran rudely allotted that Mando should allow his ship’s use for crew transport. You’re surprised he agreed at all, but perhaps the prospect of gain motivated him. His motivations are rarely clear to you. You’re guessing the price of a wealthy city’s supply sounded frankly too tempting for everyone involved; Ran was practically salivating over the drawing board for this particular errand. One would imagine a hull stacked to the top with credits and the finest luxuries for Canto Blight’s flashy tourists. It is Catonica’s main attraction after all.
But once the team’s resident crime droid, Zero, breached the cargo ship's record, the whole team is  informed that the cargo-freighter ship only contains “organics”.
Slaves.
          In the end, Migs remarked that there may still be something of worth to obtain from this job, and thus the plan morphed into an robbery on the surface once the cargo landed at its isolated dock. You reluctantly agreed to continue while Mando shortly nodded, both of you last to assent on this change in direction.
----------------   
Some hours later you’re crouching in a derelict warehouse while the lessening blaster fire showers spark like fireworks across your corneas. The fighting between your crew and the dockyard guards has almost died down at this point and you take the moment to catch your breath behind a large stack of cargo boxes.
          “Holy stars,” you gasp out, head falling between your knees as a wave of guilt consumes you momentarily. This job fucking blows. It’s so much easier robbing Imps and gangs because they are inherently bad fucking people. Robbing a group of slaves is the lowest point you think you have ever hit in your life. This is so wrong, this is so so wrong, they don’t even have ownership of their own lives and here your crew of fucking mercenaries swoops in with a vengeance over being cheated out of something that we didn’t own in the first place.
The last straw was when you witnessed a young bedraggled woman fearfully tossing the Twi’lek sibling, Qin, a small wooden necklace, the last possession from her life before slavery. You ended up turning tail and running deeper into the dock while Qin needlessly hissed at her just to enjoy her terror. You’re sure he’ll just toss the thing after the job is over.
“I never would’ve agreed to this…” You breathe out shakily to the empty air, hollowness swallowing your ability to compartmentalize your humanity from the nature of this work. You are still fighting the impulse to give in to that deep pit of sorrow when a large shadow makes you start and grip your blaster before relaxing in recognition at the chrome gleam.
          “Oh, hey, Mando,” Smiling tightly in his presence as he approaches silently, his helmet tilted down at your crouched form. His gaze makes you straighten up quickly, realizing that you probably shouldn’t look so stricken in front of your crime associate. Gotta look tough, can’t let people think you’re too soft for this work. Man, didn’t he help start the company? That thought motivates you further to stand up and face him head-on.
 “Not what we expected huh? Certainly no Canto luxury here..” you quietly murmur to his cheek groove.
If you looked directly where his eyes might be he would likely catch the sparkle of moisture threatening to pool at your bottom lashes.
          “No,” he breathes shortly through the modulator. “Not this.” Something in his voice inspires the bravery to glance at his T-shaped visor. Compared to his usual tone of speech he almost sounds …stricken right now. Distraught by this display of debauchery your crewmates have shown the slaves and few people manning the dock. It's not noticeable unless you’ve been around him enough to read him on some level but deep down you know he feels the same way. You try to recall him taking part in the violent takeover and realize he was barely present for the ordeal. Aside from the initial violence that broke out during landing he hardly did anything and was noticeably absent once the slaves were targeted. In the back of your mind, you pray that he won't be reprimanded for the lack of effort. The thought is ridiculous but you’re scared anyway.
Stars, this is all too much, your head is swirling with grief and stress as your heart rate picks up and suddenly you are so desperate for humanity, for empathy  that you lose your filter and-
          “Couldn’t stomach it either?” You blurt out to him, desperately hoping he understands and will not judge your deep sorrow for the enslaved people affected by this brutal takedown. Your mind catches up in panic half a second later when Mando doesn’t immediately respond. Did you just seek sensitivity from the Mandalorian? Fuck. Wait. That sounded like an insult too. Fuck um-
“Ah, um I-I mean. I just mean I don’t remember you firing on anyone helpless and I um- I didn’t either, I didn’t fire my blaster at all to be honest I-Fuck- I hid. They’re just slaves not Imps, Mando. The guards were taken out in seconds and-” You hiccup and stutter as tears gather at the edges of your eyes and begin to fall. You feel so overwhelmed with anxiety and guilt that all of a sudden you forgot about his open show of emotion.
Pull it together, don't do this in front of the Mandalorian. He is the very picture of a stoic, hardened mercenary and now you’re kriffing crying in front of him? It briefly registers that this is the first time you’ve ever spoken one on one with him, the both of you were almost always alone or with members of Ran’s party during time off. You internally curse your existence for thinking you could tearfully word vomit in front of a fucking bounty hunter and get comforted by him. Your knowledge of Mandalorians is limited, despite knowing one, yet you think the point of his whole creed about giving up your identity and giving yourself to war. Why the fuck did you cry in front of a damn Manodlorian? You’re just starting to unfreeze from your panic-stricken muscles to dab at your cheeks when a gloved hand swiftly brushes just below your eye to catch a tear.
          ‘This wouldn’t have happened if that Droid could do his job,” You glance up at him in shock at his biting tone juxtaposed with the gentle gesture, but he’s already turning away, voice rotating with his visor. “The worst is over now that the shooting stopped. Let’s round up the others.”
          He pauses with his back turned and you take that moment to compose yourself. You’ve only shed a few tears so your eyes can’t be that red.
“O-okay.. .” You reply, trying to inject your usual backbone into the tone of your response before moving to follow him around the piled boxes and regroup. Staring into your warped reflection in the back of his helmet you try to find the words to thank him but they get lost in the ghosts of today.
          Your mind is still swirling but the clouds of despair have mostly cleared away. You know you don’t have time to dwell on your short interaction yet your mind is fully absorbed in his every move, both present and past. Coming from anyone else his reaction would seem shitty and dismissive but coming from Mando... well, you're honestly shocked. Those two sentences were fairly long for someone usually so silent. And what about his reaction to the way this job has gone? Him brushing away your tears?
You are gazing down at your feet deep in thought when you suddenly bonk into the back of Mandos broad back, wacking your forehead on the base of his helmet.
          “Oww.” You groan lightly, rubbing your forehead and stepping to the right of his body, “Why’d you stop so sudde-'' It is then when you notice the muffled whimpering coming from the clearing in front of the both of you. A crimson pool of blood laps at the Mandalorian’s boots, its kiss staining the leather a deep black.
Now you are truly sickened, bile rising in your throat as a ragged gasp leaves your mouth.
          “Why…? How can you..”
          “Xi’an!”
          Your choked whisper leaves your lips at the same moment the Mandalorian fucking barks the Twi’leks name.
A crumpled form adjacent to her body is the source of the whimpering and bloodshed, their contorted limbs looking less than human as muscles strain against metal binders. Xi’an’s triangular blades are dripping in her grip as she spins on her toes like a dancer and flounces childishly in the direction of your frozen form. Tearing your gaze away from the shell of a human you meet her eyes with open hostility. She stops several yards away from you.
          ‘Aha! So good to see you two. Isn’t this job sooo disappointing?” She calls out to the two of you casually. When no one responds her body deflates as she twists her knee inward and clutches one arm peevishly. Performative. “What? No hello? I could’ve died today!” She cackles at the notion.
          Mando is a statue at your side. You can feel the rage radiate in waves off his body like a heater and you wonder what's going to happen if Xi’an pushes this further. Your heightened stress from moments before is vibrating throughout your nervous system, compelling you to step forward and speak up.
          “Xi’an… this-this is completely unnecessary. The only thing required to complete our hit was taking out guards! What the fuc- and they were clearly incapacitated by you before you decided to take your blade to their skin!” Okay, that came out a little shakier than intended, but it feels like a disservice to hide your revulsion for her actions with the victim lying right there. “You could’ve just hit em’ in the skull with a blaster shot if you needed them out of your way!”
          “Guards? Oh, I already took them out. This-” Xi’an punctuates the word a kick into the person’s stomach causing them to groan weakly, “Well, this is just an Organic as Zero would put it.” Organic? Fucking- You jump slightly and glance to your left when the Mandorlorian makes a shocked exclamation at her words. Maker, you’re so sickened you forgot he was with you.
“You mean a Slave? From the shipment?” He hisses the question through his teeth. You can’t see his face but you can hear the tension in his jaw, his body still a ridged form at your side. Xi’an pokes her tongue out and runs it lightly over the pointed edge of her teeth while she considers her response. She seems to be measuring her response to Mando with a little more care than she bothered with while speaking to you. You’re guessing that she cares far more about his perception of her than your personal attitude regarding the Twi’lek. Wouldn’t want to piss off her fuck buddy.
“Answer me!” He snaps when her response takes a millisecond too long. Your purple associate sighs, exasperated now.
“Yes a slave,” she hisses, drawing out the word in contempt, “Really I’m doing him a favor. From the looks of him, he was picked up on Tatooine. I doubt he even had a family to mourn him back on that shitty dustball of a planet-” Her eyes suddenly bulge as she clamps her mouth shut, gaze fixed on the armored man betraying a twinkle of... fear?
Slowly, you turn to him. The pit in your stomach is somehow weighing heavier than ever when you take in his body language. If you thought he was emanating white-hot rage before Xi’an’s response then you don’t even have words for how he holds himself now. You take a half step back in trepidation as the air around you seems to warp around the Mandalorian’s gravitational pull.
“A foundling?” His tone is unexpectedly quiet for someone who is manipulating the very atmosphere of this desert planet. Time seems to freeze. Shadows are ebbing at the edge of your vision and your head feels like it is going to pop in the pressure. You want to do something, anything, to relieve the pressing wall closing in on the three of you, to somehow end this interaction so that you can crawl in on yourself and bury the ghosts in the back of your mind. Fuck, your mouth is so dry, heart palpitating with a painful squeeze. Shit, fuck, what do you do? What did he mean by that question and why is Xi’an freaking out? You’re still fixated on the gleam of his helmet, rushing to find appropriate words when-
A flash of red explodes in your peripheral-vision, sparks seeming to fly 20 feet in the air. The words die in your throat in shock.
Did he? Did he shoot her? You barely saw him move yet as your mind races to catch up on this turn of events, you realize his blaster is drawn low on his hip, while the rest of him hasn't shifted an inch. The pressure cooker disappears in a sweeping wave of silence.
You swallow and turn awkwardly back to Xi’an. Oh.
He shot the slave.
Xi’an is just as stiff as you, her arms slightly raised as if she instinctively tried to ward off the blaster fire before realizing its trajectory. You are still processing his actions when a gloved hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you swiftly as he runs from the scene, tossing a flash bomb behind the both of you.
Without question, you run with him.
  ----------------
  “Hey!” Within minutes your chest is burning from keeping up with Mando’s relentless pace. You’re fit from your job but he's twice as big as you and probably more than twice as fast. You get the feeling that he's moving slower than usual so you aren’t left behind. Struggling to control your breathing, you attempt to make sense of the jumbled thoughts by wheezing out, “M-Mando what are we doing?”
“Running.”
“Okay, fucking obviously!”
“To the Crest.” He clarifies just as shortly. Okay. Okay, once you reach his ship maybe you’ll get more answers. Right now, both of your priorities align with getting the fuck away from Xi’an before her vision returns and she comes after the both of you. But you can’t yet push some of the recent events to the side.
“You shot him.” You mean to phrase it like a question but it comes out more accusatory than intended with how breathless you are. “The slave you shot-“
“I ended his suffering.”
Oh. That makes sense, even if it makes your chest contract in duress you recognize his killing the slave came from a place of empathy. What exactly did he say right before drawing his blaster, something about��� foundlings? You don’t know the term exactly but contextually you can guess it means orphan or alone. Fuck, this is so bad. Just what are you going to tell everyone? He may not have directed his shot at the Twi’lek but he temporarily blinded her. That still counts as an attack on a member of the team. Your chest is burning unbearably now so you slap at Mando’s vambrance to signal your need for a break. He drags you gasping around a corner into the shadowy edge of the warehouse.
“Listen, hey, look at me.” His large hand reaches out to gently grip the side of your face, warm against your skin and smelling sharply of blaster residue. Looking into his visor you realize your cheeks are damp again as hysterical hiccups threaten to make themselves known. “We are going to run. You don’t have to come with me of course but I unintentionally put you in the position of being complicit by attacking Xi’an. That-that wasn’t the plan… but I was leaving the company anyway”
His chest suddenly deflates as he rids it of air.
You realize you were holding your breath at the same time as him as you gasp out, before rubbing at your cheeks and asking dumbly, “Y-you were… leaving the company? Is Ran pissed?”
Stupid question. Of course, he’d be pissed at losing the one Mandalorian in the group. Mandos' presence gave him cred. 
“Ran doesn’t know.”
“Ran doesn’t… what? When was this happening then?”
Mando’s visor turns away from your gaze and looks off into the middle distance. His gloved hand on your face is still gripping gently to lock you in place. “Today. That’s the only reason why I agreed to let him use the Crest for this job.”
He shakes his helmet slightly and turns back to your face, the metal covering his face becoming your main focal point while the room spins. You can't see his features, and never would, yet you feel as if you are looking directly into his eyes. Your body has impeccable timing when you feel your cheeks heat blushing.
However, your senses return in an instant when a familiar piercing howl echoes off the walls. The glove drops and he is gripping your shoulders,
“Can you run again?”
Adrenaline springs your limbs into action as you spin around, catching his wrist and pulling, roles reversed as you lead him in the direction of his ship.
Dust is billowing from below whenever your feet meet the ground. The steps sound like thunder in your ears as paranoia begins to worm its way into the forefront of your senses, every corner, every shadow, every blindspot could be hiding one of your former partners. Xi’an is an excellent assassin; time and time again her main skill has proven to be stealth, targets dropping dead expectedly. The Crest isn’t very far thankfully. It sits right on the back of the targeted freighter since Zero requires physical contact to hack the other ship systems for paths. Oooohh shit you forgot about the droid- 
“Mando, Zero’s in there.” You puff out shortly in between breaths. 
“Fuck that droid. I’ll take care of him, just back me up.” You both slide around a corner as he responds, bringing the two ships into your field of view. You are facing the rear end of the larger vessel, thankfully leaving the coast clear as far as you can tell. Mando’s helmet scans the area then nods, indicating the go-ahead with his fingers before running ahead of you. You follow him, casting fervent glances behind you for any signs of life. You reach the ship a millisecond after he does, his vambrance held high to lower the rear ramp. As the ramp begins to lower he grips your shoulders and spins you around dizzily.
“Stay right outside here. The second I enter the crest I’m dropping the Droid. I’ll call you once it’s safe.” You gulp quickly and nod in assent right before he leaps into the opening of the ship.
Seconds pass. 
Your nerves are plucking way more than they normally would.. You never particularly liked Zero, but the sudden turn of taking out your ex-allies is making you high strung and nervous. Zero’s voice cuts through the silence, making you jump.
“Mandolarian, you are back early. Were the prospects plentiful despite being Organics?”
“No.” You twitch when a shot echoes in the hull followed by the clash of metal on metal.
 The Mandalorian sharply calls your name springing you into action. You enter the ship immediately spying Zero’s body under the cockpit ladder, blaster wound still smoking with red-hot metal ringing the edges. Your eyes linger a little on the droid’s body, slightly leery at the death of someone who was your backup only hours ago, then you sigh and duck to get a handle on under his shoulders, dragging him to toss out the open entryway. 
Grunting with effort you direct your voice at the cockpit, “Tossing the droid! Take off when read- Shit.”
One of the droid's hip joints gets stuck on a portion of the hull wall, preventing you from moving his corpse. Something wizzes above you at the exact moment you duck down to adjust the body, right where the back of your head was a second ago. One of Xi’an’s triangle blades ricochets off the wall and slides across the floor, stopping right under your nose. Oh f-
“Fuck! Fly, fly, she's here Mando!” You lurch to the floor as the thrusters kick in, twisting your head to try and get eyes on the clearing. Through the rapidly closing ramp, you see a flash of purple skin, but before you have time to react the Crest door snaps shut. Heart thudding at what feels like a million beats per second, you try to get your bearings on the floor. Twisting sideways you suddenly find yourself face to face with Zero’s corpse, revulsion whipping through you like lightning as you scramble backward on your hands and feet.
    You can’t do this right now. 
    The last thing you want is to seem weak and needy in front of the man who just selflessly saved your life, for reasons still unknown, but you can’t do this right now. A creature of habit, you fold your neck between your legs, the same reaction you had to the violence on Cantonica. A minute, you just need a minute, a minute and then this horrible drone will go away, and you can deal with this, you’re a fucking mercenary…  the blackness swarming at the edges of your sight overtakes you all at once and you slide limply to the floor.
  ------------------------------------------
  You aren’t sure how much time has passed once you rouse. At your request, Mando tosses Zero's body before kicking into hyperdrive right about 120,000 feet in the air. You stare at its flight path until the speck disappears in the taupe shithole that is Cantonica. Feeling shaky as your adrenaline finally dips, you decide that the Crest could do with a once over before the long journey. 
After performing a quick analysis on the Crests systems it’s determined that the two of you are lucky this hunk of metal can fly. Hyperdrive operating at 67% capacity, weak communication signal if it even works half the time, plus more damage than you can currently process. If there weren’t five million different stressors weighing on you, your mechanic brain would probably explode at the current state of Mando’s ship. He probably should’ve taken it to you, or anyone else handy with tools if he wanted it to be in proper form for departure, but it makes sense that he didn’t want to draw too much attention. Hopefully, his pilot skills will compensate for the Crest’s sorry state. 
 To be fair, the whole blow-up-your-coworker-and-run-for-your-life aspect didn’t seem to be in Mando’s original plan. 
“So… where are we going?” You’re on the floor in the cockpit, back facing the passenger chair while the Mandalorian is seated pilot. After crawling under the console for a while you couldn’t bother to lift your aching muscles on the chair, resigning to scoot on your butt over to the closest object that could support you. As a result, you end up craning your neck to look up at him, his back straight in the chair. 
“My original plan was to head to Nevarro to take on a few quarries. I’m still with the guild and Karga doesn’t give a shit whether I’m running with Ran or going in alone.” You bite your lip anxiously. Oh yeah, you kinda forgot your presence threw wrench in his plan. He notices and tilts the helmet sideways at you, “You’re not in the way. I’m not concerned about you joining me, someone of your skillset is helpful to have around. I’ll introduce you to Karga so you can get on your feet.”
The compliment lifts your spirits enough to make you playful, poking at his boot with your toe, “Gee, glad I’m useful enough to keep around. All I have is my blaster and the clothes on my back, so if you drop me, I’d be  pretty fucked.” 
You giggle quietly but you know it’s the truth. All of your possessions are back on the space station, but you didn’t own too many personal artifacts, aside from some clothes and weapons. The only thing of use would’ve been your credits. You worry again at the realization, dipping your head before continuing to speak,
“Shit Mando, I don’t have any money on me. It was all back in my bunk, I don’t know how I’ll help pay for things around here unless Karga decides I can take on a quarry right away. Even then I’ll have to bring it back before I ever have a lick to my name.”
“You can make it back. I’ll split the profit from jobs that you assist me on. Cut depends on how useful you are and once you prove yourself, Karga will give you the decent pucks.” He swivels the chair and faces you, knees slightly spread as he leans forward in the chair, “Deal?”
You swallow and nod your head, mind blanking at how your head is level with the bend in his hips. You don’t think he's trying to come across as suggestive but the effect, intentional or not, invites a flutter of desire in your tummy. The Mandalorian leans back on his leather backing and sighs, the sound gentle despite the modulator warping his natural tone,
“You aren’t in my way. I swear it. If I had more time before leaving I would’ve asked you to join me anyway, you're good with your hands and always had more… compassion? Than anyone else in the company. I admire that quality.” That makes you straighten back up to meet his visor. He sounds nearly shy.
“O-oh…” You never even thought he noticed you aside from when you touched up the Razor Crest. The compliment sends warmth throughout your body, as languid as sex pollen in the near feverish effect. You don’t know how to respond at all, you’re feeling disjointed, like you may reveal too much if you don't change the subject soon. You wish you could be snappier but you’re exhausted. Maybe try for a joke?
“I g-guess you value girls good with their hands, huh. H-haha?”
Silence. Hm. 
That was the absolute worst thing you could’ve come up with. 
It didn’t meet even a single one of your simple ass goals, which entail the following:
Thank him.
Change the subject.
Not reveal how much his words make you want him to rail you.
    Wow, what the fuck- kill me. He hasn’t moved an inch, much less reacted to your shitty joke. The positioning of your bodies that you found so hot ten seconds prior is now a place you’d try anything to escape from. It’s almost comical how his height advantage serves to emphasize the disappointment in the small room. He hasn’t responded so you’re guessing he won’t bother to try. Heavy silence suffocates you to the point of desperation, you need to fill it with something right now or you swear you’ll die. 
    “I-I jus-t mean like- Well you had certain- ah- habits, you’d adhere to in your free time. Li-like um, I mean you didn’t hide much. Kinda obvious if you- listen, uh, I didn’t mean t-to say that I-I was joking around-”
“Get to the point.”
“I-” Your tummy fills with heat at his command. “Umm..” You wipe your hands on your thighs and glance down from his voice. The hours of on and off adrenaline must be majorly messing with your head. It’s kinda weird that you want him this badly after everything that went down today. Wasn’t your most recent concern something about avoiding death at the hands of a bitch you hate most in the galaxy? To be honest you can’t recall. 
The proximity of his groin is suddenly at the forefront of your mind. Again.
He slowly tilts his helmet to look at you, arms bending to settle in a relaxed position on the armrests. You are extremely aware of how you’re blatantly staring at him but your mind is slow to come up with a valid response, blankness written in the reflection on his visor. His position on the chair is mountainous, looming over your body in a way that boxes you in between the passenger seat and the Crest console. You feel like a prey animal... In a sexy way? Maybe?
Although, when he leans back into his seat, helmet still trained on your face, you are unsure if you’re actually pissing him off or not.
“Say what you mean.” 
Okay, the sexy is mixing a little with anxiety. 
“Ah- Um well, I just mean like. It’s not like you hid it from me- everyone else too. In the company. Ran’s company? ‘Cause, I- We… always overheard you and Xi’a- Her…” Fuck, your mouth is so dry that last part came out like a squeak. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling again um, I kinda thought you were doing it on purpose. With Xi’an. Making me hear when you’d...fuck her.” Cheeks blazing, you duck your head back down, which doesn’t help at all since you’re just face to face with his crotch once more. 
    “You say ‘always’...” Mando’s inflection is lost somewhere between statement and question, his tone confusing enough that you end up lifting your head from its bowed position below him. 
“Y-yes?”
“As in this was a common position you found yourself in? Did you overhear me multiple times?” Now he poses not one but two questions for you, neither of which you feel brave enough to answer steadily. You can’t deflect further at this point so you answer him with a sigh.
“No, I only heard you once. Xi’an always wanted me to hear her though. It was gross.” Mortified, you gather your legs under your body to stand up from the floor. You think the hyperdrive issue is fixed well enough to hold until Nevarro. When your hand reaches for the edge of the armrest to pull yourself up it is abruptly enveloped in warm leather. Half crouched, your arm jerks back a little in surprise at his touch. 
“I wasn’t asking about myself specifically. And I wouldn’t force you to participate in her games, had I known.”
Maker strike my ass down. Can humans die from embarrassment? You wish it were possible if it got you out of this conversation. He’s correct, he didn’t specify whether you had heard his moaning. If you weren’t nursing these stupid feelings for Mando you never would’ve given away the fact that you memorized every tantalizing second of what you overheard. Not only is this embarrassing, but you don’t want him to think you’re a sicko who wanted to eavesdrop in the first place. The clarification about his awareness of Xi'an's timing is comforting but not enough to erase what you already admitted to him. You somehow feel sweaty and bone-dry at the same time, a flush spreading over your face.
“I’m so sorry.”
“I heard you too.”
You both speak at the same second, and a beat passes before either of you process what the other said. He- what? What is he talking about? Are we having two totally different conversations right now? When did you ever fuck someone on that space station anyway… unless he means… in the fresher…
This time he is the one who breaks the silence, “You’re sorry for… overhearing me?” 
“Y-yes, I really, really, don’t want you to think I’m a creep or anything. Anything I heard was involuntary, I swear. Xi’an w-wanted to make me… Um…” You trail off shyly, sitting down again. His hand is still over yours.
“Get to the point.” His voice is filled with heat now, so low and compelling that you’d tell him anything just to keep it that way. You whisper your response, lifting your eyes to his dark visor wishing you could meet his gaze.
“She wanted to make me jealous. Over you.”
“Mm… You wanted me instead?”
“Maker, yes.”
The climate between you and the Mandalorian made a 180. Nerves dissolving like honey in tea, all at once being taken over by a hum of sexual tension while his fingers caress a warm pattern over your knuckles. Exhilaration builds within you, though in the back of your mind you are calculating the possible motives behind his advance. 
You know sometimes, after a particularly rough day, people are compelled to relieve their pent-up stress through intimacy. There’s a reason why the market of sex work thrives under wartime, terror existing constantly in a fighter’s life must be paired with the softer, inner-most comforts of knowing another living being, or they’d go mad with sorrow. Brothels made a lot of money during the last stages of the Empire’s rule from both Imps, Rebels, and neutral parties alike.
It’s not out of the ordinary for you to seek each other out right now, yet can’t help but dream that this might mean more. 
The Mandalorian’s hand currently encasing yours flips your wrist to trace the lines of your palm. Sighing you tilt your head to the side, a curtain of hair cascading across your features. His free hand reaches out to brush the strands away before he gently grips your jaw, hand large enough to press his thumb on the front of your chin while his fingers wrap lightly under your ear. 
“I heard you too, pretty girl. You called out for me in the fresher… just what were you doing in there? Describe it- please.” He speaks with such allure that you break under his voice, pressing your cheek to his palm.
    “I-I thought of you watching me while I touched my pussy. I was so wet thinking about how I want you to feel me after being under all your armor, Stars, even the wind can’t touch you Mando. I thought about how you must crave the feeling of something so soft… can I show you how soft I am?” Your free hand raises to rest gently on his knee, fingertips hesitating at the edge of his thigh piece. He is still fully suited for battle, explosives strapped to one boot and rifle across his shoulders. 
You wish so badly to help him unwind, you would never disrespect him by trying to remove his armor, but you want to help him move past the experience that was Cantonica. Mando continues to stare at you for several tense seconds before melting into your touch.
“H-helmet stays on.” He breathes out shakily, a slight tremor running through his legs as your fingers lightly explore the fabric under the edge of the piece of metal. “But the rest… the rest can come off.” 
He’s already moving to undo the magnetic connectors holding his cuirass in place so you scramble to follow his movements. The rust-colored armor on his body has complex enough attachments that you don’t really know where to begin. Your hands clamber around, mostly following his deft movements. Slowly a man of flesh and blood is revealed, and as his impenetrable exterior melts away you find the true shape of him. 
The armor serves to add a few inches of bulk on his features, enhanced proportions making out a dramatic silhouette designed to be spotted from miles away. Without it his body is still so powerful, built hard as stone and broad, hard angles melding enticingly with a hidden softness. Not hidden- you realize -it compliments him completely. The pieces fall away and you’re left with the unexplored bareness of him. He is human and warm, evidence of this betrayed in rare moments where his hands travel lightly up your arms while you work at his pauldrons, brushing through your hair here and there before finally returning to your jaw to hover in front of your lips. 
“Off.” He instructs shortly, brushing the seam of his thumb over your bottom lip. Your mouth falls open to explore him with your tongue, tasting salt, blaster residue, and a hint of the heat he holds in his body. Satisfied, you bite down gently on the glove ridge, watching as he pulls off the leather encasing his hand and drinking in the sight of golden skin as it is revealed to you inch by inch. All you’ve seen of him is one bare hand and somehow it is the sexiest thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Flames lick your body, spreading from your white-hot core, energy gathering with such impassioned motions that at any second now it will burst from your skin, a reaction so immense that you could birth another galaxy.
You want to taste his skin too.
“Fuck baby-” You take his middle finger down to the knuckle, emboldened by his slurred reaction, noises startling to babble out of the bounty hunter as his stoicism falls apart under your tongue. Humming around the digit, you start to bob your head gently, eyes locked on his impassive visor while filthy, filtered noises drift through the beskar. It’s like there is no barrier at all between you, the air thrumming with a longing so great that you feel one with the man crumbling before you. If you're not careful you will fall with him. 
“Mando, Plea-se,” You stutter around him, voice shaking more than intended. “I want to f-feel more of you, let me touch you, please-” You squawk, mouth empty when he suddenly rips off the other glove, tossing it behind him before reaching down his torso to pull the hem of his trousers south. You gulp in trepidation, unable to tear your eyes away as enticing dark hair displays itself, leading to the base of his cock. He pauses, but you’re so caught up in discovering him that you don’t notice the tonal shift.
“Before I show you this-” dark words enunciated by palming his cock through the fabric, “I need to know where to put it.” 
What kind of question is that? You’re honestly bewildered, mind blank before you realize that the options are overwhelming. In his own way, he is asking you to verbalize consent, which is very much appreciated. You want him in your pussy, to work his way deep in your body and in turn, discover just how human you are... yet… You feel oddly unprepared. It’s not that you don't think you can take him, in fact you can't recall ever being this wet in your life. It’s just… after today… you want to help him unwind but you’re still not fully there. You still want to please him, but you’re not ready to let him know you that way, not until you come back to yourself. 
So in that case…
“I want you in my mouth, hunter.” 
Mando growls then grabs your wrist, guiding it over the edge of fabric and onto his throbbing length. He shudders while you process the feeling of him. He is thick, the width of his cock so wide that your middle finger and thumb are straining to meet each other. You release him from his pants then try to pull at the hem to wiggle them down his thighs. He obliges and lifts his hips so that you can reveal more delicious olive skin, but he makes no move to assist you with his hands. You get the feeling that he is drinking in your efforts to touch him, the sensation of your jerky movements giving away how much you want him. 
You kiss and nibble at every possible moment, one hand drifting lightly over the length of him, twirling at the base dusted with short, dark hairs, cupping his balls then moving back up, your mouth traveling to meet your fingers. Hissing, his hand flashes up to meet the back of your head, fingers tangling in strands to tug tightly on your scalp. With a light moan, you tongue along the side of him, teasing hot air more than actually licking him. 
“Look at me- fuck - pretty thing, s-so fucking willing for me, I want to see you take my cock as far as you can, s-show me how much you can handle-” He pulls harder at your hair, dragging you roughly enough to control your neck, back up from where you were sucking at his hip to the head of his dick. “Are you going to show me yourself before or after I gag you on it?”
Fuck, you never realized how tantalizing submitting to another person could be, not until that came out of his mouth, rough enough to clip through the modulator. You elect to show him what you can handle. Leaning forward to meet the swollen tip, you part your plush lips and kiss at the drop of precum gathered there, before relaxing your jaw to take him halfway. He groans and nearly doubles over at the sudden sensation, holding you there for a second before you draw back up to spread your saliva more thoroughly. Lips rewet, you sink back down on him, gliding smoothly as you pull his cock deep within your mouth, drinking in his breathy groans.
“Maker, yes … that’s it, fuck-” You attempt to sink even further down on the Mandalorian’s impressive length, but stop short a few inches from his base, blunt head pressing in your throat. “-so good, s-so good for me baby, you look perfect like this.”
He’s so far back inside you that you can’t access your vocal cords to produce any noise at all, otherwise you’d be whining at his praise. Your hands are free to assist you at any time, you could circumvent his daunting length if you wanted help. But you want to impress him. Besides, your palms are warm on his torso, traveling under his shirt to feel the ropes of muscle there. You don’t want to remove them. 
You surface to the tip, taking a deep breath in preparation before ducking to take him as deep as you can manage. He watches you, entranced at the sight of a face so lovingly strained to please him. Your gag reflex spasms but you will it away, determined to fully engulf his cock at least once even if you find you’re unable to handle more. The noises rising from your throat are brutal and raw as you choke around him, his helmet blurring when tears fill your eyes. You bob a little then almost give up when the urge to retreat floods your senses but then he starts talking again- so filthy that you can’t stop yet.
“You’re trying so fucking hard, fuck, I love seeing you wrapped around my cock, Maker, you feel so fucking good, I can’t imagine how your little pussy must feel, you’re so warm, so, fu-fuck, tight…” The stream of filth serves as your motivation to bob for as long as possible on his length, throat stretched obscenely around him. You realize hazily that there are tears streaming from your eyes, but the urge to pull off is lost in dizziness as the oxygen in your lungs depletes. You keep going and going, your high at its peak as you recognize that your body is starting to fade in black. You should pull off and breathe, one quick breath is all you need, but the way he’s filling you is more addicting than the purest Spice. He notices when you start to slump into his lap and pulls you up gasping for air. 
Nearly fainting never felt so good.
“Shit, are you alright?” You nod and rest your cheek on his thigh, face turned on its side to meet his visor as he spins little circles in your vision. A soothing hand brushes against your cheekbone, tracing a gentle pattern on its height. “You were doing so good for me baby. No need to hurt yourself.” Mando’s voice is still breathless, offering you tenderness through a cloud of stimuli.
“I’m okay- I’m… I just need to catch m-my breath.” You’re still heaving unevenly but you want him so bad, you want him to finish for you, your wants translating into weak pawing at his dick trying to give him more sensation. He catches your wrist with an airy laugh and guides your uncoordinated movements to better stroke him. The sound fills you with light.
“Pretty thing, I know you want me. Try to not die on my dick before I’ve had the chance to feel your cunt.” His hand leaves yours on his length and reaches over your ass to cup the apex of your thighs through your pants. You jerk up and almost crack the crown of your head open on the chin of his beskar but his other palm is pressed between your shoulder blades, keeping you bent over in his lap. A garbled noise tears from you when his index and ring finger spread on either side of your outer lips, allowing his middle finger space to travel up and down your seam, so wet that you can feel the slickness gathering through two layers of fabric onto the tip of his finger.
“Ah, Fuck! Mando, I-I- wait please, please, wait-” He draws his hand up away from your wet center, reaching your asscheek before you yelp and snatch his forearm to stop him from retreating farther. “I s-still wanna, I wanna make you come. You first, before-before me.”
“Baby, you’re… fuck okay. Can I still touch you?” Mando caresses your hip at the fold where it meets your thigh. 
“Later, let me d-do this, please.” He allows you to lift his arm from your spine and rest it on the crown of your head as you move forward and try to meet his cock again. Pulling his thighs to the edge of the chair, you settle back on your knees and stroking him one-handed while he hums low in his throat. You wrap your lips around the swollen head, sucking and swirling your tongue before taking him deeper, this time using a palm to stroke the last few inches instead of opening your throat. Starting up a rhythm of bopping and stroking his velvety length that pulls incredible noises out of the Mandalorian, each one going straight to your swollen clit. 
Coming up for air you start to jerk him off faster with your slick hand, meeting the T of his visor with your heated gaze, hoping that you are finding his eyes. He must enjoy the sight of you jerking him off because his moans start to tighten, hips thrusting into your palm. 
“K-keep fucking doing that, good girl, fuck I-I’m close, where-where do you want it, baby?” You respond by settling low near his thighs, putting his cock above you with your tongue sticking out, wetting the tip while your wrist moves faster. Somehow he’s harder than ever and-
Mando curses through his teeth as his cock convulses, warm spurts of cum painting your tongue, cheeks, and nose bridge, rivers of him flowing down your chin and dribbling on the swell of your chest. He grips the back of your head tight enough to hurt, then rips one hand down to stroke himself, smearing the mess across your features. 
The fingers on your scalp loosen then graciously begin rubbing at the base of your neck to soothe the soreness on your head. One of your eyelids is sealed shut due to a rope of his cum crossing from nose to eyebrow, the other eye unfocused, hazy with pleasure as you listen to him come down from his peak. A low noise rises from your throat as he massages your scalp, feeling tingly all over as blood flows back to the area.
“T-Thank you… that was great, I-“ he breaks off when you start to gather his cum off your skin, licking it off your fingers while studying his visor through your lashes. “Hey, let me…” 
He surprises you by wiping at your face with his cape, still hanging off the arm of the pilot chair from when you detached it. You giggle, “Is there a way to wash that on here? I can’t even tell if that hole in the wall includes a shower.” 
“There’s enough to work with.” 
You laugh louder at that, “That’s encouraging. I hope there’s ‘enough to work with’ so that I don’t meet Karga covered in cum.” Pausing to consider your current position, you add, “Actually, that might help my case.” 
Face wiped mostly clean, you're able to open both eyes now, taking in his posture. A jolt shoots through you when you realize he’s holding himself differently for some reason, he looks almost predatory but maybe that’s just the effect of Beskar’s harsh angles... Nope, he’s leaning forward now, caging you in again.  
“You want to look sexy for Karga?” Gulping, you try to figure out the best response but he continues before your slow-ass mind can catch up, “You’re right, that might help you get better pucks. But I don’t know if I want my hunting partner to be introduced that way. I still need to return the favor…” 
He lifts your body with ease, pulling you sideways onto his lap. Mando’s warm hand slides along the bend in your knee, slow and sensual on your body. He caresses you aimlessly, relaxed in the afterglow of cumming so hard. You’re still tightly wound, energy balled in your body as his movements serve to wind you up even more. But he’s not moving any faster so you relax into his broad chest, enjoying the feeling of his bare skin. 
Time blurs with your senses. His touch pulls you to a place right out of your daydreams, where everything is draped in velveteen and silk. You’ve honestly forgotten his original goal in the first place, and as his arm begins to drag on its path, it seems like he has too. The stroking on your arm has lowered your arousal to a simmer, leaving you content to stay laying across his lap, the glow of hyperspace streaking over your bodies. All at once, you realize he’s no longer moving over your body, his chest rising and falling deeply against your shoulder. 
He’s asleep. Surprise registers sleepily somewhere in your exhausted mind, the realization behind layers of warm fuzz. Didn’t even think he slept. 
There’s a full day of travel until you reach Nevarro. Snuggling closer into the warm crook of his neck to resolve to live in this dream for as long as possible. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.
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socheckitout-mikey · 3 years ago
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you can totally make hc if you want!!!! i'd eat that shit up like breakfast ngl. in my opinion david is joe (kind of obvious) dwayne would be sal, marko would be murr and that makes paul q <3333
omfg yes! i had way too much fun doing these. i know they're a little shitty, but i tried istg! - mae
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
The Lost Boys Pranking Each Other Like Impractical Jokers Hc's:
° I JUST KEEP IMAGINING DWAYNE AS SAL RUMMAGING THROUGH TRASH FOR HIS BIKE KEYS AND THEM LEAVING HIM DHDHDHR OR THAT TIME SAL HAD TO DIG THROUGH ELEPHANT CRAP TO GET HIS PHONE, ONLY ITS DWAYNE'S KEYS AND ALL OF A SUDDEN MARKO GOES "EH BUDDY LOOKIE ERE!" AND HE'S DANGLING HIS KEYS IN THE AIR "I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU GUYS!" SHDHFJFJF
° Paul is deadass one of the most ruthless out of all of them when it comes to prank wars. He's targeting everyone with ridiculous pranks, but they always bite him in the ass later on when he wakes up the following night with his hair dyed a luminous green. He rocks it but he totally had a nervous breakdown over it bc "THAT'S MY FUCKING HAIR MAN!"
° "Maybe you shouldn't have thrown my keys into that gross guys hotdog stand-" David drawls nonchalantly, flicking cigarette ashes at Paul's green goblin looking head.
° There was this one time that Marko attempted to prank David, and I say attempt bc it went absolutely atrociously... Maybe it was because Paul was trying to get him back and gave his buddy too much of that good green stuff. Marko's plan to train his pigeons to crap all over David had ended up with him waking up the next morning covered in pigeon shit. "Serves you right, you yutz-"
° "Man, we need to drown you in the tub." Dwayne snorts.
° "DON'T BRING THAT SHIT UP-" Paul screams from the other end of the Cave.
° "Right... But it's not like we're adding a dog into the mix..." Marko muttered under his breath, using a crumpled old napkin to clean the literal crap off of his face.
° "I SAID SHUT UP!"
° Paul thought it'd be a good idea to drop rice to bug David, but it ended up with all of them counting the fallen grains of rice lmaoo. He kept losing count and everyone got different numbers.
° Honestly, the best one's at pranking people are Dwayne and David as they're very patient and thoughtful.
° David schemes like an asshole cat, striking when you least expect it. It leaves Paul and Marko on edge for months, just waiting for David to pull a prank on them.
° "C'mon man! Just prank us already!" Paul pleads, paranoia finally driving him up the walls.
° "Yeah, we're livin' in fear here!" Marko agreed suddenly.
° "You know, you just reminded me about that..." David's just kidding, though the other two don't know that. David forget something? Not a chance. This guy is on that Petty Train™ and it's going straight to Saltyville!
° Dwayne can take years to strike with his pay back. He's got patience that even David doesn't have, and honestly, Dwayne's pranks are really intense. He'll scare the shit out of the others so much so that they don't prank him for good long while. Paul's the one who never seems to learn lmaoo.
° Well, unless he's in the mood for being playful that is...
° Like I'm talking about the fact that after digging through elephant crap in the local zoo after hours for his bike keys, he not only chased down all of them, but he kinda tied Paul and Marko up and may've just let the sun rise a little... he's waiting for an apology- he's salty now and won't care if they burn... but once he get's that apology he's been wanting to here, he's pulled them into the shadows.
° "Ahhhhh! Dwayne, man, c'mon! The suns rising!" Paul screams, thrashing around in the sturdy chains he's been bound by the wrists at.
° Dwayne responds with an expression of total anger, but it's cool and collected. He's patient. He can wait a little longer. He's in no hurry.
° Whereas David's lounging on one of the dusty old couches in the shadows. He had given Dwayne what he wanted, whether his apology was half assed or not. He still said it with some meaning, right?
° "David didn't even mean that piece of garbage he called an apology!" Marko spat out, eye cracking a vivid yellow whilst he stared directly into David's blue amused eyes.
° "Well at least I had the courage to swallow my idiotic pride~" David sing-songed joyously, folding his nimble gloved hands behind his spikes of bleach blond hair. "And it worked wonders, didn't it? I'm not the one about to be fried into ashes..."
° "Man, we're sorry alright?! We won't fuck with your bike or your keys again!" They both screamed in unison, shutting their eyes tightly as the sun began to rapidly crawl into the open space of the Cave. It's golden rays beginning to spark the ends of their blond locks alight! That was precisely what Dwayne wanted to hear, and without little thought, yanks them down and watches them scurry into a deep crack in the wall. That'd teach them from fucking with his shit ever again.
° "Fuck, my hair! It's all burnt on the ends!" Paul wails, swatting the frizzy ends rapidly to put out the sparks.
° "That's literally the least of your worries, Paul." David retorted into the air, gathering himself up from the couch and towards his own nest.
° "Yeah, we almost got fucking fried you sack of shit! This is the last time I listen to your ideas-" Marko rambles on angrily.
° Yes, they did sleep curled up together in the crack in the wall. They genuinely held each other tightly, Paul waking up from nightmares! Poor baby :'(
° Marko definitely does listen to his ideas after that lmaoo.
° Also it's very true, these guys compete to embarrass each other out in public, so much so that they've pretty much become a star attraction.
° That is until that one time Marko drop kicked Paul off the Pier and cracked his skull open... Yeah, they got into a lot of trouble for that one...
° These guys are chaotic dumbasses and their prank wars a cynical as hell. Like it get's so intense, but it's hilarious! Star and Laddie are kept entertained for ages!
° They be pranking Laddie too, but it's all in good fun. He's a kid after all! They're not gonna be excessively mean to him. That is until he fucks with their shit...
° Then you've got Paul and Marko holding him up by the scruff of his jacket, demanding where their Playboy mags, bike keys, their specific wrench is, that Deff Leppard Tape... boy you name it! They'll interrogate him good cop bad cop style lmaoo.
° Dwayne's heart kinda warms up whenever Laddie pranks him. He ruffles his hair, even if it makes him mad as hell. Laddie is his weak spot tbh.
° David just gives Laddie a pointed look and goes, "This better not become a common occurrence, otherwise I'll have to shave your head."
° Lmaoo the absolute sass that he receives from Laddie after that djkgdsghjsd-
° Sometimes David allows Paul and Marko to get away with their stupid pranks on him. Although it's incredibly annoying, he also finds it endearing how happy getting away with some of the simpler ones makes them. Paul thinks he's literally gotten away with it, but Marko knows.
° Paul deems himself to be the Prank King™ and honestly he is, but you know what? He's usually quite good natured and even though he does overstep boundaries, he'll always make things up to everyone if it really bugs them. He's out to have fun, not get murdered or cause tears. Most of the time...
° He ropes Laddie in on the pranks and loves it! Paul is a great big brother! He also enjoys pranking Star quite a bit, and she can be quite mean when returning the favor.
° Marko however, plays the dirtiest! He's pretty cynical himself, so his sadistic nature comes out full throttle. The lines within him are blurred. He's genuinely good natured usually, but once someone does something that pisses him the hell off... They best be prepared for hell to arrive at their feet.
° Like this one time, Marko cock blocked Paul for several weeks lmaoo then he ate the person Paul had the hots for. He dropped them at his feet in the Cave like, "Whoopsie!" He got into so much shit from Max bc that person was like hella important, I'm talking celebrity status sfjdshfhjsdfnbds
° David's just cynical as hell and he's always got something witty to say during or after it. Definitely mocks them dsjgdsjfds David's just an asshole cat istg! I mean, not even Star is safe from his pranks, but he kinda has a sisterly soft spot for her. He likes to dig deep under her skin and bug her. She's quite fiery honestly.
° Pranks with the Lost Boys is incredibly chaotic to round it off.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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xhanisai · 4 years ago
Text
Blanc Noise - Chapter One
AO3 / FFN
Summary: 
It first began with the feeling of being watched and the flicker of shadows.
Then along came missing items being returned in the most odd places.
Soon it was the glimpses of blue eyes in the darkness and a silhouette of white that haunted her.
Marinette thought she saved him, that she saved her Chat Noir from the dystopian timeline.
She was wrong...oh so wrong...
A/N: Wassup mah d00ds! I hope you're all doing well and everything! Anyways, on tumblr, I made a quick AU of 'What if Chat Blanc comes back but as a ghost?' and it got lots of positive attention hence I decided to start a full fledged story. After all, I am a fucking slut for Mariblanc~ Big thanks to my good friend @/gale-of-the-nomads for the title name (sometimes, he has a good idea or two despite the amount of terrible puns he spews lol). Nevertheless, enjoy! P.S: The story takes place after the episode: Ladybug. Therefore, Maître Fu is still around, the love square is still going strong and Ladybug is not the guardian. Additionally, I've tweaked the timeline. The duo have now started their final year in collège in September (the events of Ladybug happened just before the summer holidays). Do I make myself clear? Good. Have fun! Song listened to whilst writing: White Silence - TK from Ling tosite sigure
~(x)~ . . . "MmmMhmm! That smells amazing! What have brought this time, My Lady?" The feline hero leapt to his feet, faux ears and tails wiggling with delight and pupils dilating with elation. Ladybug laughed softly at her endearing partner, sitting down on their favourite beam of the Eiffel Tower and beckoning the boy to come closer, wiggling the Tupperware in her hand teasingly. Chat Noir didn't hesitate to scurry towards her, plopping down on the spot opposite the heroine as she placed the container in his greedy hands. If he wasn't such a gentleman, he would have immediately tore off the lid and scarfed the delectable goodies down his throat like the alley cat his Lady proclaimed him to be. "Guess." Ladybug humoured him. "And before you ask, the clue is that it's a savoury dish this time. Don't shake it up too much." She playfully took it away from him and then placed it on the spot between them, grinning as Chat's face scrunched up into a thinking expression. Lips pursed, eyes narrowed and arms folded. Absolutely adorable. "Hm...it can't be steamed garlic prawns. You brought that yesterday." Noir mused. "And it doesn't smell like duck pancakes either." He added, scrutinising the mystery within the container. "You mean the Běijīng kǎoyā? Not after that horrible heartburn it gave you last week." Ladybug cheekily flicked his forehead, earning an annoyed grunt from him. "Geez no need to flex on the Chinese, Mlle. I don't know a lick of Mandarin." He tried to swat away Ladybug's hands when she attempted to poke him for making fun of her, chuckling at her mock angry face. "Okay okay! I'll behave- the heartburn was worth it by the way~ I started to crave for more days after, hahaha-" "I know SOME Mandarin, stupid!" "Insults and crude words do not count, My Lady." "Just guess the food in the Tupperware already or else I won't share!" Her threat froze the black cat comically. Chat quickly blabbered out apologies, clearing his throat and then eyed the container again. The sound of his stomach rumbling broke the silence, embarrassing the hero whilst his partner barely kept in her snickers. "Vermicelli rolls?" "Nope." "Kung-Pao chicken?" "Nah." "...wontons?" "You're getting closer," "Agh...okay from when I shook it, it sounded quite hard and crispy so..." He carefully shook the container once more, ears pressed against the cool surface as he tried his best to identify the treasures. Finally, an idea struck him, evident in the way his faux ears and tail shot upwards. "Aha! Spring rolls! It's spring rolls, isn't it?" His face looked like one who won the lottery and Ladybug couldn't help but coo internally. He was such a dork. "That's right, Chaton. Now, if you guess the correct fillings, I'll let you have some." Ladybug added nonchalantly, eating up the way Chat spluttered and the frazzled gestures he made, eyes begging to let him have the treats already. "Oh come on! You're not that cruel, Bug." He pouted but didn't attempt to snatch away the container. He directed his beady glare at his Lady, arms folded. "...La-aaaaady-bu-uuuuug..." He whined. "Just kidding~ Here, Bon appétit ," Ladybug didn't waste time, tearing off the lid and beckoning Chat to take some of the spring rolls. The boy's eyes widened at the sight of the delicious looking treats. The pastry was golden and crisp, the size of each roll were consistent and big enough to finish in three bites and the enticing, spicy scent made the feline salivate. And, they were still piping hot. Hell yeah, Bon appétit indeed! Without hesitation, Chat took a bite, unaware of Ladybug's anticipating look. . "Holy shit...I'm in heaven..." The teen blurted out, eyeing his spring roll with a tearful look, as if it was too beautiful for him to eat. He shoved the whole pastry in his mouth, moaning in delight without a shame whilst his Lady's tinkling giggles was like music to his ears. What a way to spend the last evening of summer before school. A beautiful summer night, a beautiful lady and amazing food! 'Yes, this cat is content for life,' He purred to himself, smiling at his partner as she offered him another roll. "Thank dieu you enjoyed it. I wasn't too sure if you were going to be keen on the secret ingredient I mixed in with the vegetables." Ladybug twirled her roll, cheeks ever so slightly flushed with happiness. "Is it that exotic spicy scent that I've been smelling this whole time?" "Yes. Maman's friend who's from the south-east gave her these homegrown naga-chillies. They're really, really hot on their own but without the seeds, they're bearable to me and make the vegetable filling taste so good." She bit into her roll as if to emphasise her point. She was blind to the way Chat Noir watched her with a pleasant, fulfilled smile. The warmth that pulsed in his stomach provoked his heart to skip a few beats or so- a standard reaction that the love of his life always gave him. 'I wish you would be mine forever...' His unsaid words were left floating in the back of his head as he nibbled on his food. The duo spent the rest of the night laughing, joking, exchanging bizarre stories without giving away their civilian lives and before they knew it, it was midnight. "Uh-oh...I'm turning into a pumpkin! Save me!" Chat Noir wailed dramatically, curling up into a ball and leaning against Ladybug. Her hearty laughter grew in volume, the girl clutching her stomach as she gasped for a breath only for Chat to join her with his contagious laugh. Soon, they calmed down. With the calm came the thoughts. The crescent of the moon shone like a beacon. The temperature of the summer air started to cool and the beautiful city lights below shone like diamonds. The two were hesitant to leave, wanting to prolong their last summer night. The older of two wanted to spend as much time as he wanted with the girl he loved. The younger on the other hand? She wanted to keep him happy and close. After all, She would rather die than fail her partner again and let him be akumatised. Little did she know how potent her sadness was. The atmosphere turned tense in a flip of a switch, sending shivers down Chat's spine and he was quick to glance at his now, forlorn looking Lady. As if they didn't just have a laughing fit and a mini picnic. It was that damn empty, distant looking face again. The boy under the mask absolutely despised it. He would do anything to get rid of it. "You know I'm always here for you, Bug." He placed his hands on her forearms, beckoning her to look at him. Ladybug refused to meet eye contact so he tilted her chin up with a finger, delivering a soft, sad grimace. "It's been months now and yet you wouldn't tell me what happened. Did you think acting more sweet around me would distract me from your tears?" The girl hadn't noticed her eyes were watering till her Chaton pointed it out and wiped away a stray tear. She knew he was much more smarter and perceptive than most would give him credit for yet she couldn't help but pray that he would leave her be. 'He's always been too good for you. You know it. I know it. So why don't you just hurry up and throw the earrings away so that someone else who's actually worthy of utilising the power can properly look after him?' "I told you, nothing happened. Just silly, civilian stuff." Ladybug tried to shrug him off, quickly wiping her eyes and trying her best to not sniffle. "Let's just go home-" "When will you stop lying to me?" The boy hissed out, tail lashing against the beams in anger and feline ears pressed against his dishevelled locks. His acidic green eyes pierced through Ladybug's being. A deadly scowl that would surely cause the blood in Le Papillon's body to freeze and petrify him. Ladybug tried her best to not show how he surprised her, keeping a poker face and swallowed quietly. However, with the way his hands were clasped around her wrists, she feared he could feel her rapid pulse. Why was it always her that caused his rare anger to rise on an occasion or two? It was simply not fair. How righteous his anger was towards her. A sudden gust of wind swept through their hair, ending the summer season and introduced the newly born autumn with a howl. It felt like ice seeping through their suits. Yet, the polka dotted heroine didn't dare move a muscle, observing her partner with a cool, neutral expression. Chat Noir hated it. He absolutely hated it. It was one of the few faces she made when she was forced to keep a secret away from him even if it took a toll on her body and mind. He felt disgustingly useless. "I'm fine, Chat Noir." Ladybug wiggled her hands to free them of his grip, bringing them to her chest as she glanced towards the city below. "Can we please not do this tonight? Please? I want it to end on a good note." Her wish was met with a defeated sigh from her partner, not flinching for even a split second when his tail whipped against a stray beam. An echo of his anger prior. Just as it was quick to come, it was quick to leave, thankfully. "I'm not give up on you," His resolute tone induced a quiet gasp from Ladybug, the girl herself cut her gaze towards him with parted lips. "But for tonight, I'll let you be." He didn't smile but...he didn't frown either. Reaching for her hands one last time, Chat Noir brought them to his lips. His bold, fiery greens never left her soft, steady blues whilst his lips brushed against her knuckles in a traditional kiss. Taking advantage of her lack of hesitation, he kissed the backs of her hands too and then brought them to his chest so that she could feel his fierce, beating heart. It began to lash against his chest when a light rouge tinted her cheeks. "I'm always here for you, always. No matter what, you can count on me to protect you." Then, with a determined nod, he launched forward and pecked her head before letting go of her swiftly and vaulting away with an impeccable speed. Ladybug remained frozen in her position, cheeks flaming until his figure became smaller and smaller in the distance. By the time she could no longer see him, she sunk to her knees, grasping her chest as her throbbing heart felt like it was going to burst out and explode. Millions of emotions ran through her body, fighting against each other as the memory of him kissing her head replayed over and over again. Like the sweetest of poison. Addicting but deadly. Despite the warm, fluttering butterflies, despite the smooth, softness of his lips, despite the comforting, protective touch of his, Ladybug couldn't help but have the memories of the other timeline flare in her mind like a warning sign. An unwanted threat that has never failed to wreck her mind. Biting her lips, she tried to keep her tears at bay, body shaking and pushing against the sobs that threatened to spill out. She was so tempted to run back to him and tell him everything. To care for him like the way he deserves. To love him like the way he needs. Yet the haunting, crazed ice blue eyes of the past invaded the temporary soaring feelings like a virus, eating away all the positivism and hope she tried her upmost best to maintain. 'You have no right to be happy...' An ugly gloom hooded her eyes, killing all her emotions as she staggered back up to her feet, using a beam nearby for support. The harsh wind clawed through her hair, ridding her trademark ponytails of their ribbons and blowing them away to the other side of Paris. Ladybug simply didn't have the energy to get them back, using muscle memory to swing herself back home. Her ribbons long forgotten. It was a cold, bleak September now. ~(x)~ It was quiet. Too quiet. Standing up from her crouch after detransforming on her balcony, Marinette immediately spun around and glared at her surroundings whilst Tikki hovered close. Not a single sound was heard. Not even the wind. Suddenly, Marinette's heart began to pick up pace as beads of sweat started to form on her forehead. The only thing she could hear was her heartbeat as she felt something weird. Her entire neighbourhood was asleep, evident in the lights out and the pitch black environment. The only source of light in her vision were the few lamp posts on the streets as well as around the park. Yet, she couldn't ignore the feeling of being watched. Not wanting to show fear at a possible stalker, Marinette took large strides till she was at the edge of her balcony, clutching the railings and scanned the scene with more scrutiny. One of the lamp posts merely flickered as moths buzzed around it. The trees simply swayed along with the inaudible breeze. The streets and roads remained empty. Not a single soul out. Marinette exhaled softly, eyes never stopping its study of her surroundings. She took a step back, tension leaving her body bit by bit, leaving an aching throb in her chest. The adrenaline that fuelled her veins vaporised. "I don't think there's anyone around, Marinette." Tikki whispered, clutching the girl's loose strands as she also watched for anything suspicious. "Can we go back inside? I'm cold." "...okay." Marinette glared at the scene from her peripheral vision once more, almost swearing that she saw movement under one of the lamps only to brush it off as paranoia and made her way back to the trapdoor. Since she wasn't paying attention, the teen bumped into her table, almost tripping over her feet but thankfully caught herself. "Eek! Are you okay?" The little Goddess freaked out, flying in front of her charge and scanning her from head to toe for any injuries. She was waved off with a tired smile. "Don't worry, it's probably just a little...bruise...?" A slither of red caught Marinette's attention from the corner of her eye only for her to gawk. There, on the railing of her balcony was... ...One of her ribbons. Inhaling sharply and leaping towards the railings, clutching her treasured ribbon, Marinette spied around the neighbourhood desperately like a hawk. Tikki's presence on her shoulders did nothing to alleviate her stress as sweat from palpitation grew on her palms. Her mouth on the other hand ran dry and she refused to blink. She didn't dare to tremble. She was Ladybug. Nothing should scare her. ...with her partner's possible akumatisation aside that is. Regardless, Marinette fixated her stare at the specific lamp post. The area where she brushed off momentarily. The light flickered back and forth whilst moths carried on fluttering around it without a care in the world. She watched. And watched. And watched. . Still nothing. Without looking away, knuckles white from her grip on the ribbon and her free hand cradling her beloved kwami, Marinette walked backwards, gingerly going down her trapdoor and quickly closed it till it was locked shut. . The silence haunted her all night. ~(x)~ "Ma-ri-nette!!!" Instantly, said girl was glomped by her best friend in a hug that would surely asphyxiate a commoner. Thankfully, Marinette was not only Ladybug in disguise but also trained vigorously in many of the martial arts by her dear maman. "Alya! I missed you! How was Morocco with Nino and his family?" Marinette leaned against Alya as the taller of the teens hooked their elbows together, leading them inside the school. "Girllllll I have so many scoops to share, so many deets-" "The million texts and selfies you sent me daily weren't just it?" "They barely scratched the surface! But anyways, it was amazing! I couldn't believe my parents were willing to let me go even when Nora threw a fit haha! I got to relax so much, spent quality time with Nino and his extended family, took so many pictures and tried so many different food. Ah~ Best. Summer. Ever." "Oh the food...I can't believe you shamelessly ate all of that without sharing it with me," The raven-haired girl teased, pushing her hip against Alya's who pushed back without a beat. "You wouldn't be moping if you came along, Mari. Remember the tagine you tried at the local restaurant nearby and you thought that was divine? Lemme tell you, it is nothing compared to the authentic, fresh tagine made by Nino's tante. One taste and I was in heaven. Absolute heaven." "Alya you're making me jealous, I get it, I get it." Marinette playfully scoffed but then her energy soon wore off and fatigue took over her body. Alya was quick to catch the tired girl as soon as she began to sway, perfect brows sculpted in worry as she eyed her best friend. "Marinette...girl...you do not look okay. I'm telling you this 'cos I love you. Go back home and sleep." The brunette brushed Marinette's fringe gently, noting the tired, dark rings under her eyes and the unhealthy paleness of her skin. It was as if Marinette avoided the sun all her life. "I don't wanna..." The stubborn girl whined but didn't fight back when Alya led her to a nearby bench, sitting them both down. "I've been missing you all too much and couldn't wait to see you all again," She admitted, earning a coo from the curvy girl and another hug. Alya's sun-kissed honey skin was a stark contrast against Marinette's pale, porcelain skin. "Alright then but I'll be keeping an eye on you, girl. I can see the effort you put into your cute bun and soft make up. How you do your eyeliner freehand without a guide will always baffle me~" Just as Marinette was about to retort back, the duo were engulfed by a surprise hug from the back. Neither fought back as the familiar laughter and soft, masculine brown arms were registered. "Babe! And dudette! My best girls!" Nino popped his head forward, in between the girls and squished their cheeks against his. "Heyyyy~" He waggled his eyebrows stupidly, his shit eating grin widening when his girlfriend burst out laughing and Marinette following with a quiet giggle. "Nino, g'morning," Alya quickly pecked his lips. To further his dramatics, Nino pretended to swoon and flopped backwards between the girls with a dopey smile. "Finally, a good lundi morning," Nino sighed with exaggeration, his girl still trying her best to stifle her laughter whilst Marinette fondly rolled her eyes at him. "I can now brave through these useless lessons and deal with M. D'Argencourt's bullshit rambles during registration. Oh how amazing the power of lo-oooove truly is!" "Oh yeah, I almost forgot that we won't have Mme. Bustier this year. Was about to say that I was gonna miss her but not gonna lie, she lost all my respect when you got expelled." Alya huffed, pulling Marinette against her like a worried mother hen. "To think that I almost had to spend my last year here without my precious Marinette~" "But Babe! What about me?" "You wish you were as precious as sweetcheeks over here." Alya blew a raspberry at her boyfriend, cheeky grin widening at his dramatics. Marinette on the other hand simply smiled, savouring every moment. The fact that there was a possibility that she would have had to attend a different collège for her final year without her friends made her quiver and she didn't falter in snuggling closer to her best friend. She's been through so much this year. Surely she deserved some sort of happiness. Even if she failed her partner at one point... Right? 'No. You do not deserve anything but pain and suffering you selfish, self-righteous brat. Because of you, how long did your beloved partner go through that hell? How many nights did he spend wide awake after destroying the world? Face it, you don't deserve him or your friends or any sort of love-' The dark, twisted, ugly thoughts and whispers that preyed upon her mind was quick to diminish at the sound of pure sunshine. "You guys! Hey!" Marinette didn't get a chance to look up fully as she and the rest of the small group was tackled by their loving blonde friend in a comfy, sweet hug. Her heart malfunctioned on the spot as all she could smell was the fresh, crisp autumn air that lingered in his soft hair and coat. Her mind rebooted over and over again at the feel of his strong, sturdy arm wrapped around her. Her lips quaked at the feel of his brushing against her cheek despite the gleeful smile he wore. "A-A-Adrien?" The model pulled back slightly to face the stammering girl, lips quirking into a silly but sweet smile. Not thinking twice, he pressed his forehead against Marinette's tenderly, their fringes intermingling with each other and their cool breaths hitting each other's lips. Adrien's eyes sparkled like emeralds and the aspiring designer couldn't help but be mesmerised. "Missed me~?" His nose was touching hers now and his pearly whites gleamed mischievously. Poor Marinette couldn't help but blink, blush already blooming in her cheeks. Dammit. They may have gotten much, much closer yet there were still times that the boy rendered her speechless! What's with the green eyed blonde boys in her life and making her heart a complete wreck?! "B-Bro...can't breathe...I don't wanna die!" Nino's muffled pleas shattered the moment and Adrien immediately broke the hug, snickering at the way Nino gasped for air and clutched a deadpanned Alya. Though, he took a seat besides Marinette and kept an arm around her waist, leaning against her as they watched the couple bicker and banter. "Enjoyed your holidays, Adrien?" Marinette began, playing with the fraying threads of her purse and peeked at him below her lashes. Adrien hummed, sitting up and then directed his gorgeous greens at her. 'Be still, my heart.' Marinette couldn't help but beg. "It was alright. Didn't leave Paris though and had too many photo-shoots. What about you? Didn't you get to go to Shanghai for a week?" Adrien's question almost went unheard as Mari couldn't help but be hyper-aware of the warmth of his hand on her waist. The way his finger casually tapped against it. The innocent smile he had on his lips. This boy was going to be the death of her. 'But you don't deserve him. You don't deserve either of them. Be lucky that they even acknowledge your filthy existence.' The eerie whispers clawed through her brain, her body begging to run away and cry. Yet, she forced her fingers to move away from her purse and pull on the seams of her navy pea-coat, smile never faltering. "Yes, I did. I really enjoyed it there. I wish I got to stay for lo-longer..." She trailed off, swallowing down any babbles or word soup as Adrien squeezed her waist as a gesture of comfort. He was being really sweet today... "I don't blame ya- all the pictures you posted online looked so cool. The skyline at night, the food, heck even your relatives! If I hadn't known better, I'd have thought that cousin of yours was your brother." "You wouldn't be the first to mistaken us as siblings," She giggled. "When we were younger and they came over to Paris to visit, some people used get mixed up between me and him. It didn't help that I had my hair really short at the time and wore nothing but blue and red." "That would have been really cute to see. Hmm, it also makes sense with how easily you accepted that Félix and I were just cousins instead of that weird conspiracy theory that Kim concocted up." "Oh I wouldn't say I accepted it too easily. You and your cousin are like mirrors of each other. It's insane! I thought for a minute that you had an evil twin." Marinette winked merrily, her giggles simply grew while Adrien rolled his eyes at her. "Come on. Not you too." His fake pout didn't last long and he quietly chortled alongside her. Just a smile from his Princesse was enough to brighten up his day despite the small fight he had with Ladybug eight hours prior. Yes, Ladybug was the love of his life. Yes, he would go to the moon and back for her. However, he would be an absolute idiot and horrifically obtuse to deny that his feelings for Marinette weren't as strong. With rare wisdom from his lazy kwami, Adrien learned that having feelings for more than one person was not only natural but also healthy in a way. It showed that he wasn't forever stuck on one person and it eased the pain of his Lady's rejection to his advances. Ladybug and Marinette were his best friends first and foremost and he wouldn't dare to sabotage his precious friendships. It didn't mean he couldn't wish for Ladybug to fall for him one day. Same for Marinette. He's still a silly teen; he could keep dreaming and fantasising! Till then, he was going to go with the flow and see what the future entailed. As far as he was concerned, his future was leaning more towards Marinette and frankly, he did not mind one bit. Abruptly, the morning bell rang, indicating that it was time for the students to head to class for registration. Grunts and groans were heard from the swarm of students in the courtyard, Kim's distinct "It's time for hell, bitches!" being one of the more prominent voices in the crowd along with Alix's curses. "Thank fuck Mari-bee was the class president last year and made sure that we got our class to be the same for this year. I'd have eaten my own hands if I had to deal with that one annoying kid obsessed with magic again." Nino shot a friendly punch against Marinette's shoulder and then wrapped an arm around Alya's waist as she led them to their new classroom. "Did he just indirectly mention that he'd rather have Chloé and Lila over Jean as his classmate?" Marinette huffed with endearment, taking the hand that Adrien offered to help her up. The sudden rush to her head caused her to wobble on the spot. Luckily, Adrien steadied her without a word, hands clasping her forearms. "S-Sorry..." She attempted to step away but the boy's grip on her tightened, halting her. Marinette glanced back at Adrien with confusion, cocking her head to the side slightly and lips pursed. "...you're not feeling well, aren't you?" A nail in the coffin. Adrien scanned her body from head to foot, frown growing deeper. "You can barely stand." "I'm fine. I just...couldn't get any sleep. I was nervous for the first day of school and also didn't want to oversleep." Marinette answered quickly, looking away from him. She didn't expect his finger to hook under her chin, forcing eye contact. For the first time, Adrien glared at her. Glared. He leaned in closer, bending down so that he could reach her height. "Are you lying?" Neither of them budged. The mutterings and chatter from the students that were around grew fainter and fainter until all that was heard was the classroom doors slamming shut and the echos of the teachers doing the register. Marinette wanted to quickly deny the allegation. She wanted to push him aside and run to class. She wanted to forget how she momentarily confused Adrien with her partner. Though, even the Ladybug could run out of luck. "Adrien," She began. "We're going to be late." Her stoic, cool expression showed that she wasn't going to budge, pissing off her friend completely. The model tsked with irritation, quick to grab her hand whilst using his other one to adjust the strap of his bag over his shoulder. He moodily led her to their class, refusing to utter another word. For a split second, the defiance and stubbornness in Marinette's eyes were a hundred percent identical to Ladybug's. He almost blurted out his treasured nickname for her. The annoyance of said stubbornness and refusal to accept his help grew stronger instead, causing him to try and forget about it and brood later on. What's with his treasured girls and their stupid reluctance to let him help!? . He wasn't aware of the horror that was plastered on Marinette's face. The girl refused to tear her eyes away from the main door behind them as a lone, torn up, dirty ribbon flayed in the entrance. A familiar ribbon that was most definitely not there ten seconds ago. When M. Haprèle closed the door, Marinette could have sworn... ...that there was a pair of blue eyes watching her right back. . . . ~(x)~ A/N: That's the end of chapter one! It's more like a prologue ish, slow chapter since we're building up- so bear with me, aight? I hope you enjoyed reading it regardless. I stayed up till 5am to write it after all :0 If this chapter gets at least ten comments, I will update! Till then, see you next time~
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randomdarksidersblog27 · 4 years ago
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'Sly,stay here and don't come out till I tell you alright?' Conner told his young son. Sly whimpered,reaching for his father.
'B-but Daddy! They'll hurt you!' The small raccoon cried,trying to grab the adult and pull him to safety. Conner just smiled knowingly,hugging his son. Possibly for the last time.
'I'm willing to risk that if it means keeping you safe Sly.....I love you.'  Conner said before he closed the closet door. He faced the intruders and prepared himself. He just hoped they didn't find his son.......Last he heard was Sly crying and calling him.
'Daddy!'
'Daddy-Daddy! Daddy! ' Conner woke with a start,staring at -
"Sly!" The four year old beamed at him,giggling.
"Daddy! You were talking in your sleep again silly head!" The gray raccoon chirped,nuzzling his father. Conner held Sly close to his chest,heart racing. It had all been a dream? No....no....a memory. Somehow he managed to survive the attack and the Fiendish Five were beaten and arrested. Conner had gone to the hospital and stayed for a good few months,causing Sly to be put in the Happy Places Orphanage until his father was released. That had been the hardest thing Conner ever had to go through. His poor baby boy,alone in that slum of a place. This was the first week that he had Sly back,and like hell Conner was gonna let go.
"Sorry 'bout that pumpkin. Daddy was just......remembering things. How are you this morning,are you hungry? What do you want to do today?" Conner asked as he sat up,Sly fitting in his lap like a puzzle piece.
"Can I go see Murray and Bentley? Pleeeeease?' Sly begged,big brown eyes pleading.
"Who?" Conner asked,raising a brow.
"Bentley and Murray! They're my friends I made in the orphananage!" The young raccoon happily chimed,beaming brighter than the sun.
"Oh? I'm happy you made friends,but.....I don't think we can go see them? Not unless we make an appointment." Sly frowned.
"Why?" The older raccoon shifted,sighing.
"Because. That's how they get adopted." He explained. That wasn't the right thing to say,as Sly's whole face lit up and he started to bounce like he had eaten mounds of sugar.
"CAN WE ADOPT THEM? CANWECANWECANWECANWE?" He yelled. Conner groaned,his head starting to ache.
"Sly,sweetie,no.....I can't adopt them. Its a long process,and I don't think they'd like me anyway." He tries to reason. His son looked disappointed and sadly slinked off his lap,disappearing into the hallway. Conner thunked his head against the bedframe. Why did he feel like this would bite him in the ass?
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The next few weeks were full of Sly not so subtly leaving notes and hints of adoption around the house. Pamphlets in the cereal,single sheets of 'why adoption is the answer' on the coffee machine,even cute little drawn family portraits of Conner,Sly,and who he assumed were Bentley and Murray holding hands left by his computer,the toilet,just.....anywhere. This was NOT something Sly was going to drop was he?
It came to a head one night,as Conner finished cooking and went to the table,only to find it set for four. Conner sighed and put the meal in the middle of the table,calling for his son.
"Sly Thatcher Cooper! Get down here now!" He called upstairs. He heard the small boy coming down the stairs and waited for him,arms crossed. Sly saw the table,then looked at his father with hope.
"Uh....surprise?" He said shyly. Conner sighed again,rubbing his temples.
"Sly,sweetheart......You need to understand,we can't adopt. We can't invite more people to our lives,they might not be able to catch up. We are THIEVES Sly. We can't AFFORD to have a hippo and a turtle with us,they can't do what we do. I'm so sorry honey,I truly am." He said,kneeling beside his son and laying a hand on his shoulder. Sly looked at his dad,heartbroken. He began to breathe irratically,eyes welling up with tears. His hands curled into fists and his lower lip wobbled. It was at this moment Conner knew,he fucked up.
Piercing wails filled the house,possibly heard for miles. The paintings on the walls shook,glasses rattled,cats on the streets hid! Sly was throwing his first ever true tantrum. And what a glorious tantrum it was. Crying,wailing,screaming at the top of his tiny lungs. He threw himself around on the floor,rolling around and just LOSING HIS ABSOLUTE COLLECTIVE MARBLES. Conner couldn't believe it. His perfect son,the most well behaved toddler he had EVER known,was losing his shit right in front of him. All because he wanted two orphans to join their family............he was so going to regret this wasn't he?
"-and that's how I convinced Dad to adopt you guys! I may say,it has been my finest work to date." Sly said as he sat cross legged on the rug,beaming at his audience. Bentley,shaking his head,patted Sly on the back.
"Sly.....I'm not sure that's true. Your finest work is when you seduced that one weird fellow at school into giving you the answers for the chemistry test." He said. Sly blushed,covering Bentley's mouth.
"Shhh! Don't let Dad hear you!"
"Don't let Dad hear what?" Conner said as he came into the room. Sly removed his hand,smiling innocently.
"U-uh,that Murray is hungry again!" He lied. Murray looked up from his magazine.
"I'm not hungry,I'm STARVING!" The hippo complained. Conner chuckled.
"Well,I was JUST about to come get you rascals for pizza. Care to join?" He asked,laughing hard when the three preteens scrambled to get out the door first. Sly was last,but he turned to his dad and hugged him suddenly. Conner hugged back,confused before Sly spoke.
"I just wanted to say thanks Dad........I have brothers now,and they're essential to the team.....thank you for adopting them and teaching them......I love you." Sly said. Conner chuckled and kissed his son's head.
"I'll admit,they've grown on me.....just promise me no more tantrums. People thought we had an earthquake from how hard you kicked the ground." The older raccoon joked. Sly blushed and stuck his tongue out before joining his father and brother's at the table. It was a mismatched family. A little broken,but still good.
Yeah. Still good.
@cooperific-aus I loved your AU of Conner rasing them.
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thebiscuiteternal · 4 years ago
Text
“Once More, Again” Gen, Reincarnation, Yunmeng Reconciliation, Fluff and Angst, Creepy Frogs, Promises of Cats
__________
The night hunt wasn't supposed to be a big deal at all. A flock of possessed birds had scared a caravan of travelers away from their camps. A simple cleanup job, one that didn't really even need him.
Then one of his disciples comes running up in a barely concealed panic.
"Jiang-zongzhu, we have a... problem."
Coiling up Zidian to return her to her ring shape, Jiang Cheng scowls at the man. "What kind of problem? Is there another flock?"
"Ah- no... it's..."
A loud wail breaks through the trees, the source easily pinpointed as the small, dirty girl one another disciple is gently trying to shush as she guides the child into the clearing.
"That's our problem," the first disciple says, scratching the back of his head. "We found her in what was left of the camp, but none of the caravan members claim her."
"No one at all?"
"They say they have no idea who she is. She doesn't feel like she's connected to the birds, but-"
Scowl deepening, he goes to the child and crouches down. Surprisingly, she stops crying the moment she's aware of his presence. Scrubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands, she raises her head to stare at him.
He involuntarily sucks in a sharp breath.
The shape of her jaw and nose, the tilt of her brow, the spatter of freckles across her nose and cheeks, those are all different, but looking into bright silver eyes, he knows- he knows it can't be anyone else.
Sniffling quietly, Jiang Yanli reaches for the hem of his sleeve and clutches tight.
Little Meilin has been fed and bathed and safely ensconced in a veritable nest of blankets in the guest room closest to his own before he feels like he can breathe again.
Asleep and smiling, her hair shining from the oil one of the aunties had put in it, she looks like she has been living in Lotus Pier her whole life.
Or like she never left.
He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the wall.
No. No that's not fair.
He won't make her live in someone else's shadow. Even if she carries the same soul, she is Meilin, not Jiang Yanli and must be treated as such.
He briefly considers not telling Wei Wuxian. Wouldn't this fall squarely into that "past life" bullshit of his?
He sighs. Again, no.
Maybe it's a sign of weakness on his part, but he summons up a butterfly messenger. With a short succinct "A-jie reincarnated and is staying in Lotus Pier," he sends it off. He will contact Jin Ling properly in the morning.
---
"This better not be a trick, Jiang Cheng. That'd be low even for you."
Jiang Cheng freezes like he's been stabbed. He stares at the other man, looking for any sign of one of his usual bad taste jokes, but Wei Wuxian is pale and disheveled and angry and... oh. He really does think Jiang Cheng would lie about this to lure him back to Lotus Pier. After everything, he still...
He can't muster up any anger for this. He just feels tired all of a sudden, all the way into the marrow of his bones, and he doesn't want to be here anymore. "Liu Jiao will show you to her rooms," he says dully as he motions one of the maids who has been helping with Meilin forwards. Then he turns and leaves without waiting to see what kind of reaction Wei Wuxian has to that.
He's fleeing and he knows they can tell and he can't bring himself to care.
He tries to throw himself into work as a distraction, but quickly finds he can't concentrate for shit. After his fourth failed attempt at penning the necessary letter to Jin Ling, he decides he might as well give up.
Pointedly avoiding both Meilin's room and the area where he'd left Wei Wuxian and his ever-glowering husband, he heads out to one of the lesser-used piers. Workers gathering the autumn flowers wave in greeting, but thankfully give him space, and he settles in to watch and hopefully not do too much thinking.
---
It's nearly sunset and he's starting to doze a little when the pounding of tiny feet against the planks of the pier startle him fully awake. A giggling squeal of "Cheng-ge!" is all the warning he gets before his lap is suddenly full of squirming child.
"Cheng-ge? Who's Cheng-ge? Are we so familiar, now?" he chides with no actual bite at all as he flicks a button nose and her grin only gets even bigger. "Someone's been teaching you cheek, A-Lin."
"Can't possibly imagine anyone who would dare."
The flinch is entirely involuntary and he tries to smooth it over, but little fingers dig into his robe and he sees worry flicker over those bright eyes.
"Cheng-ge?"
"It's nothing," he says, patting her hair, then braces himself and looks up. It catches him off guard again to find Wei Wuxian watching him with a look of regret... maybe even apology.
"Mind if I sit?"
"Whether I say yes or no, you will anyway, so I might as well say yes." He'd intended it to come out sharp, the retaliation that he hadn't been able to manage earlier, but has much less heat and much more resignation than intended. Maybe it's because of that change that Wei Wuxian actually hesitates.
"If you want me to go-"
Leaning out of his lap, but refusing to get up or let go of his robes, A-Lin reaches out and tugs on Wei Wuxian's trousers in a clear demand.
Well... Maybe some things don't change, he thinks, rueful smile mirrored on his former shixiong's face as the latter obeys and kneels down beside them.
They sit in awkward silence, bound together by tiny hands holding a vice grip their clothing, until croaking songs begin ringing out from near the water and A-Lin perks up.
"Frogs! Cheng-ge, Xian-ge, can I catch one?"
He expects Wei Wuxian to automatically take over and say yes, but when he turns his head, the other man is just... watching him again.
He shakes it off and taps A-Lin on the forehead. "Boots off and let me tie up your skirts. If you get too muddy, the maids will throw you in a bath before they'll let you have dinner."
The girl wrinkles her nose, then nods and begins wrestling off her left. Practice born from another very squirmy child lets him work easily around her efforts, and she is shortly running off, laughter ringing behind her.
"You're... good with kids."
He scowls at Wei Wuxian. "That would be more of a compliment if you didn't sound so surprised," he says flatly.
"Ah." Wei Wuxian has the barest grace to look embarrassed, turning his gaze to the planks under him as he scratches his cheek. "Well... when I first met Jin Ling, he was such a brat, and then when I thought of who raised him-"
"Seriously not helping your case."
"Ugh, would you let me finish? Anyway, it turned out he was a good kid under all the thorn brambles. Which, again, considering who raised him-"
He really doesn't have the mental fortitude for this right now, he decides. Biting the inside of his cheek, he starts to get up, but a hand gripping his wrist stops him. "Wei Wu-"
"Please."
He squeezes his eyes shut.
Then he sits back down.
The hand on his wrist doesn't let go, and when he forces his eyes back open, Wei Wuxian is staring at that point of contact between them, thumb brushing absently against one of the tendons in an old familiar gesture. "When I got your message, I almost passed out," he finally says. "I was so afraid to let myself believe it. I thought I couldn't possibly be lucky enough for it to be true. I know I don't deserve for it to be true. I convinced myself you had to be lying, because somehow that actually hurt less than the possibility she was really here."
Jiang Cheng swallows back the pain that swells in his chest. His mouth tastes bitter. "Still not helping your case," he mutters.
But he still doesn't pull himself free.
Wei Wuxian laughs, the sound small and pained. "I know, I know."
"I did what you wanted," Jiang Cheng snaps, unable to stop himself. "This whole year, I-"
"I know." The grip on his wrist tightens and Wei Wuxian inhales shakily. "You did nothing to deserve it and I thought the worst of you anyway. I'm sorry."
He doesn't know how to respond to that, but he's saved from having to figure it out when a tiny figure stumbles along the docks, soaking wet and clutching one of the biggest lake frogs he's ever seen, short of a frog demon. "Did you fall in?" he asks, getting up again. "You look like a drowned-"
"He knocked me over! Look how fat he is!"
Big shiny eyes blink at him from the nest of her arms, then the creature makes a croak that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
Maybe it is a frog demon.
A baby one, or something.
Wei Wuxian looks similarly nonplussed when he joins them, eyeing the frog with clear discomfort. "Eh... meimei, maybe you should let that one hop on home, yeah?"
"Aw, but he likes me!"
It does indeed seem to be very comfortable with being cuddled, which doesn't improve his opinion of it one bit. "We'll let someone look it over while you're In your bath," he says, subtly elbowing Wei Wuxian when it looks like the other might argue.
Fortunately, the other man catches on and nods. "Have to make sure he's nice and healthy."
"Okaaayyy."
---
"This is the creepiest thing I've ever seen."
Jiang Cheng can't argue with that, especially since the frog he's now definitely sure is some kind of demon is becoming creepier by the moment. Already, Wei Wuxian' prodding has caused it to turn from brown to a vague shade of greenish-purple and belch smoke.
When it opens a third eye, Lan Wangji has apparently had enough. "It should be exterminated," he says, starting to draw Bichen.
The frog hisses.
Hisses, showing off rows and rows of very un-frog-like fangs.
"Oh, fu-"
---
"Where is QiaoQiao?"
"You named it-"
"Escaped," Lan Wangji cuts in before Wei Wuxian can finish boggling at the choice.
"Yes, it escaped," Jiang Cheng says, mentally refusing to acknowledge that they agreed on the excuse. A-Lin pouts, and he gently ruffles her still-damp hair. "You can chase frogs any time you like, you know."
"But QiaoQiao was special."
That's... one way of putting it, he thinks as he tries not to shudder. "Why don't we find you something else special? What other animals do you like?"
"Hmnh... I like cats?"
"We can do cats. We'll find you the best cat," Wei Wuxian says, clearly relieved to hear no mention of dogs or more frogs.
Jiang Cheng allows it.
A loud rumble, far too loud for the tiny body that makes it, cuts into the conversation, and A-Lin hugs his sleeve to hide her face going bright red. "'m hungry," she mumbles into the cloth sheepishly, and he can't help the smile that tugs at his mouth as he crouches to scoop her up onto his hip.
"I think we're all hungry. Let's go see what the kitchens have in store for us tonight, hm?"
---
Having already seen A-Lin eat once already, Jiang Cheng takes more than a small amount of enjoyment in watching Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji openly stare as she inhales a fifth meat bun without chewing or coming up for air.
"What are you, a snake yao?" Wei Wuxian asks when he remembers how to work his jaw.
She puffs her cheeks at Wei Wuxian in an adorably offended huff. "I said I was hungry."
"No shi- kidding," Wei Wuxian quickly amends when Jiang Cheng glares. Then he grins. "How do you feel about spicier food?"
"You are not corrupting her with your chili oil addiction."
"It's not an addiction-"
"I wanna try. Can I try?"
His first instinct is to say absolutely not. But two pairs of eyes are giving him the soulful pleading look, and he sighs and fights the urge to roll his own. "Fine. But only a little," he says, picking up the bottle himself because Wei Wuxian wouldn't recognize the concept of "a little" if it bit him in the ass. "Chew this time."
"Well?" Wei Wuxian asks as she swallows the bite.
"It's okay."
He resolutely does not smirk at his former shixiong's crestfallen expression.
"Only okay?"
"Hot is good, but smoky is better," A-Lin pronounces with all the gravitas of a trained food expert, and both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian can't help grinning at that.
"Everyone's a critic," Wei Wuxian says as he elbows his husband, who has a sleeve over his mouth in a clear attempt to pretend he's not been charmed as well.
Jiang Cheng is absolutely not smug about that.
---
"So, what are you going to do?"
Dessert is long gone, Lan Wangji has retired to bed, and the three of them are left sitting in the main hall, A-Lin clinging to his robes with honey-sticky fingers as she sleeps.
"We'll put out word, but unless someone comes to claim her, she'll stay here." Wei Wuxian continues to stare at him with that inscrutable expression, and he finally sighs. "I'm not going to turn her into A-jie. Past lives should stay in the past, remember?"
Wei Wuxian flinches and looks away.
Good.
The silence stretches long again, then his former shixiong huffs quietly. "I don't..." he starts, then licks his lips nervously and changes whatever tack he was about to take. "How are you planning on raising her, then?"
He gently pets long hair, and A-Lin responds by burrowing against his chest and shoving her face against his collar. "To figure herself out. If she wants to cook, if she wants to cultivate... hell, if she wants to make a living catching frogs, that's up to her. She's already put in her duty to this family."
"Good. That... That's good."
Still petting soft, fine hair, Jiang Cheng considers his next words carefully. "Until she's old enough to travel easily, you know she's going to demand visits from her Xian-ge."
Wei Wuxian stiffens and his head snaps up. "And... you... You're okay with that?" he asks, a faint glimmer of something akin to hope in his expression.
"At least until you deliver that cat you promised," Jiang Cheng says dryly. "I'm holding you to that. In writing, if I have to."
"You would," Wei Wuxian replies, rolling his eyes, but there is no missing the relief in his posture.
Nor the loss of tension in the room.
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phcking-detective · 4 years ago
Text
Baby I Can See Heaven in Your Eyes
Rating: E
Tags: dirty talk / voice kink, heavy petting, dry humping, delayed / denied orgasm, hair pulling, light pet play (Nines is called kitten and told to "sit"), oral fixation, crying, kissing and cuddling as (brief) aftercare before the scene continues, sexual possessiveness, fingering, sub space
TW: sexual roleplay that Gavin is Nines’s “owner” and Nines is his “companion model,” like an at-home Traci; no kink negotiation beforehand, but Gavin checks in with Nines frequently for explicit consent; Nines has a vagina (no gender play)
***
Nines cannot wait for his human to return home, so that he can test his most recent experiment. Thus far, he has tested a phallus, a vaginal component, two dildos, and a vibrator.
He is looking forward to also gathering data on Gavin's dick.
"Hello, detective," he greets the moment of the human's arrival.
Thing One and Thing Two greet him as well, One by rubbing against his legs and purring, and Two by screaming for attention. They have both been fed, and Nines plans on giving them their favorite electronic mouse to hunt as a distraction so he can have the human to himself for the evening.
"Hey, baby," Gavin says. He kneels down and pets both cats. "Hello beasties. Yes, hello. Are you lying? Have you been fed?"
"Yes, they have," Nines answers for them. "Please ignore their wails of alleged hunger."
"Dirty rotten liars," Gavin calls them affectionately.
Nines remotely deploys the mouse with a swirl of his LED. It is big enough to contain a small amount of wet food inside, and the "beasties" quickly chase it into the kitchen.
Gavin stands up with a snort. "Oh, did you want attention too? What've you been doing today?"
"Yes," Nines says shamelessly. "I spent the afternoon thoroughly masturbating myself. How was work?"
Gavin tries to hang his jacket on a coat hook that does not exist and drops it on the floor. "You—what?"
"I spent the afternoon thoroughly masturbating myself. How was work?" Nines asks.
"Not as fun as that," Gavin mutters as he picks up the jacket and tries again. "Did you … uh. Have fun?"
"Yes. I should really thank Connor," Nines says.
Gavin pulls a face. "You fucked Connor? In my—shit, OK. Well. Our apartment? Not on my bed though, right? That's still mine."
Nines rolls his eyes in return. "No, Gavin. I did not fuck Connor. He simply informed me that sex is not merely for reproduction and that it is not hyperbole when humans say they want to fuck someone."
Gavin stares at him. Nines understands. This is all very new information that seemed dubious to him as well.
"Apparently, humans really are out there 'fucking' one another," Nines explains.
"… yeah," Gavin says.
Nines analyzes him, noting his elevated heart rate. "Did you know about this, detective?"
"I—don't scan me!" Gavin snaps. "My sex life is none of your business."
"Oh." Nines feels his LED circle yellow-yellow-red. "But you are sexually attracted me, and Connor said that is not merely an annoying physical response on par with hiccups. Do you not want to have sex with me?"
"On par with …" Gavin stops and rubs his hands across his face. "Phck. We're really going to talk about this, huh? We're just gonna have a whole goddamn conversation about it."
"Yes," Nines says. "Detective."
Gavin puts his hands down to glare at him. "OK, just because I got drunk one time—"
"You get drunk fre—"
"AHT!" Gavin cuts him off with the no-noise he uses on the cats. "One time and ordered a companion android, who—"
"You did not," Nines reminds him. "You googled 'tall smexy anboid' 'want hot robo friemd' and 'am robots gay question-mark question-mark question-mark' before passing out."
"I hate you."
"You think I'm pretty."
"AUGH!"
Gavin stalks into the living room and throws himself onto the couch. Nines does not understand why his human insists on making everything so emotional and difficult and emotionally difficult.
He clearly desires android sexual companionship, given his drunken attempt to order a companion model — [confirmed].
He is sexually attracted to Nines, given that he mistook the RK900's first appearance at his apartment the next morning (entirely coincidental; Captain Fowler assigned them as partners) to be the companion model he attempted to order — [confirmed].
He did not reject the "companion model," despite all commentary from other humans (Cyberlife employees; DPD employees) indicating Nines is [creepy], [inhuman], [terrifying], et cetera, et cetera. Gavin instead labeled him a [big pretty bitch] and [all my phcking wet dreams come true, goddamn].
"You think I'm pretty," Nines repeats.
Gavin finally lifts his head out of his hands. "Yes. You're the prettiest fucking sass bot ever produced."
[confirmed]
"You find me sexually attractive as well, and it is true that humans actually act on those physical desires, yes?" Nines asks.
Gavin sighs and lets his head drop against the back of the couch. "Yeah."
"I have installed a vaginal component, and I—"
"Oh my god," Gavin whispers at the ceiling.
"—have confirmed I enjoy penetrative stimulation," Nines continues. "You are in possession of a phallus, correct?"
Gavin looks up at him. "OK, so you're bored of dildos and you want to try out my dick?"
"Is anyone other than your hand making use of it?" Nines replies.
"Phck off."
"Gladly."
Nines takes a seat on Gavin's lap. This is his [favorite] spot. Now he knows why it flusters the human so much, and also possibly why he enjoys it so much. Could he have been experiencing [sexual arousal] even without a genital component? Interesting.
"Baby," Gavin groans.
Nines relocates the human's hands to his thighs. Gavin obligingly begins rubbing them, almost reaching up high enough to cup his ass. He has sat in this spot before, firstly to mimic the cats, because they seemed to enjoy sitting on Gavin's lap and being petted. Then for [cuddling] and telling each other about their day.
Of course he had noted Gavin's reaction to this; he simply did not categorize it as relevant. The human's stomach also sometimes growled while around the cats, but that bodily reaction did not mean Gavin literally wanted to or would ever eat either one of them. Human bodies sometimes just do things.
But now Nines can recognize he is the [cause] of this particular reaction.
(And also note his new genital component's reaction to his human rubbing his thighs and calling him baby in that tone of voice.)
"Detective," Nines says in return.
Gavin huffs out a growl. "Dammit, Nines. You should—you can … go get another human. Or android, I guess. Just. Someone else."
Nines pulls back enough to ensure he can fully scan the human. Arousal — [confirmed]. No detection of [fear]. Gavin wants this and presumably is not coerced or intoxicated.
But admittedly, Nines did not have a social module pre-installed. He has learned from experience, observing humans in his new profession as a librarian, and … mimicking Gavin's cats.
(Not that he's told that last fact to Connor.)
"Clarify," Nines demands. "Do you not want this?"
Gavin, much like his cats when told to get off the counter, looks away and pretends not to hear him.
"Am I sexually assaulting you?" Nines asks.
"Wha—" Gavin finally gives him a reaction. "No! Fuck, god."
"I am requesting that you fuck me."
Gavin gives him a slow look up and down. "Closest I'm gonna get to heaven, huh?"
Nines preens under his gaze. Question answered, now reassured that his actions are not harming the human, he deploys another helpful tactic he has learned from Thing One and Thing Two.
He repeatedly butts his face into Gavin's to request attention.
"Kiss me."
"Nines, I—"
"Kiss me. Kiss me."
Gavin grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks him into a kiss. Nines ignores the notifications of a mission successfully completed as they scroll across his HUD in order to focus on the experience.
For how roughly Gavin maneuvered him into it, the [kiss] is surprisingly gentle. His lips press insistently against Nines's, drawing back slightly and then pressing again, but it is nothing like the people on TV who seem to be eating each other's faces.
It is … very nice. Warm. The human's lips aren't quite soft, due to chapping from the cold Detroit weather, but the texture is so [interesting]. And the contrast between lips and stubble and the slight pull of the hand still gripping his hair makes his internal cooling fans kick in to abate the sudden rise in temperature.
Then, just as Nines lets his guard down, Gavin bites his lip.
It does not [hurt] or cause any damage of course, but Nines still opens his mouth to ask why—and the human uses that split second to delve his tongue inside.
Analysis explodes across the android's HUD. Gavin's DNA, the hormones present in his saliva, traces of coffee. (And when was the last time he had a meal? Nines should be detecting actual food as well [reminder: my human has not yet consumed his daily caloric intake])
Gavin pulls back and separates their mouths. Unacceptable. Nines pushes forward and puts his own tongue inside the human's mouth to continue his analysis.
For some reason, Gavin pushes him away.
"No tongue until you learn how to kiss," he's told.
Nines does not pout. He presents a perfectly reasonable argument. "I was analyzing you."
"Yeah, that's why I made the rule," Gavin replies. "There's a difference between kissing and analyzing. Also, I need to breathe."
Well. The second fact does hold some merit …
"We can still make out." Gavin shifts his hand from Nines's hair to cup his face. "Just let me lead, all right baby?"
Nines nods and obediently holds still until Gavin guides his face back down. The kiss starts slow again, and the next nip at his bottom lip only tugs on it slightly before Gavin lets go and kisses him again. Nines tries to follow the pattern of when to press forward and when to tilt his—
Gavin's hands slide over the tops of his thighs and then inside them, thumbs pressed close to his groin. Nines barely has time to process this change (he is still being [kissed]) before the detective uses his grip to pull his thighs wider over his lap.
"You wanna show me what I'm working with?" Gavin asks him, his voice low and rough and … very unfair.
Nines leans forward into the human's arms, dropping his head down to rest on his shoulder. He needs less stimulus to process all of this. He restricts his audio input to ignore any sounds outside of the apartment. The mouse program gets abandoned, so the cats will likely be able to bat it out from under the fridge soon. All he needs is Gavin, Gavin, Gavin.
"Touch me," he asks.
The thumb slowly drawing circles on the inside of his left thigh lifts up to stroke over his pubic plate, currently equipped with a vaginal component. It only takes a gentle press to push the fabric of his yoga pants into the slick mess Gavin has made of him.
"Your cunt all wet for me, baby?"
The profanity shivers through him, and Nines nods against his neck. That answer apparently was not [adequate] though, because Gavin takes his thumb nearly away, resting so lightly atop the fabric Nines can only feel his human body heat.
"Need an answer, Nines."
Nines works his mouth silently for a few seconds before remembering to activate his vocal unit. "Yes, Detective."
Gavin hums and it's almost a groan. Nines presses closer and licks his neck. That is not [kissing]. This analysis of his sweat and skin should not be forbidden.
"I'm going to touch you," Gavin tells him.
Nines lifts his head to exhale a cloud of steam. It does very little to lower his rising core temperature, not when Gavin's thumb swipes up to pet across the crotch of his yoga pants until he finds his clit, grown swollen and plump. He chose a larger model, and he had very reasonable—
"Gaaav …"
—reasons. Reasonable … reasons. Yes. Many of them. Aesthetics and—and—more sensors to—
"Oh, baby," Gavin murmurs in that voice. "You need it, kitten? Look at you, you're trembling, and I'm barely even touching you."
That is an unfair assessment. Nines tries to formulate the argument but blows out steam again instead. Gavin has his voice, and the way he spread Nines's thighs so wide, he can clearly see the growing damp patch he's making.
The way that also leaves Nines's [cunt] spread wide, lips separated and hole clenching around nothing.
It feels … [filthy]
[embarrassing]
[exciting]
"So good for me." Gavin pulls Nines's face out of the crook of his neck by his hair. "Let me see you."
Nines goes with the motion. The human has a firm grip on his hair, right at the root, so the tugging doesn't actually [hurt], although the complete lack of resistance likely helps.
But he can hardly see his detective past all the error notifications crowding up his HUD.
Gavin apparently likes what he sees. "Beautiful. My pretty baby."
He doesn't stop circling his thumb around Nines's clit as he says it, and Nines whimpers. He tries to push his hips forward to get more pressure, more touching, more of anything, but Gavin takes his hand away entirely to still his hips.
"Please," Nines gasps.
Gavin gives him a stern look. "Behave."
Nines shudders all over, a full body malfunction. His core temperature has risen almost to dangerous levels. Gavin tugs his head back, forcing his chin up. Nines doesn't understand why (is he no longer allowed to view his human?) until a prompt flashes in red to exhale.
He releases a burst of steam that would have been too hot for human comfort, but Gavin has already preconstructed that. He is allowed to lower his head again once he's completed a few breathing cycles. His temperature and stress levels begin a slow descent as he settles into the knowledge that Detective Reed will take care of him.
"Please, Detective." Nines blinks several times to clear all the notifications. "I will be good."
He saves several still images of the way Gavin looks as he considers: his eyes more black than grey-green, the slight flush across his cheeks, the obvious press of his erection inside his jeans, yet he still remains in control.
(Of them both.)
Gavin lifts up the hand on his hip and offers Nines his thumb. Nines gratefully lets his mouth fall open, thumb gently pressing inside to rest heavily on top of his tongue. His eyes drift shut to focus solely on the analysis he receives.
All too soon, the thumb is withdrawn, but he doesn't have time to protest before it's pressing back into his clit again, even wetter than before, the damp fabric hardly even a barrier at all.
And then does not move.
"What do you say," Gavin asks lowly.
"Th—" Nines gasps. "Thank you, De—Detect—ohhh."
Gavin's own legs underneath him prevent him from closing his thighs around the hand between his legs, and the hand in his hair holds his head hostage so that he cannot look away. He doesn't know what to do with his hands until he realizes that at some point, he put them behind his back, an old program partially activated to stand at parade rest.
This is much better.
"You like this baby?"
Nines tries to nod against the hand in his hair and forces his LED to flash blue along the yellow and red.
"Good boy," Gavin praises. "Just gonna check when your light's been red for a while, all right?"
Nines doesn't answer this time. He just sinks down into it, the obedience of holding perfectly still, the care Gavin shows him, letting someone else have control for once. He enjoyed the way masturbation made his awareness of physical sensation temporarily overtake his thoughts, but he did not expect … this.
Except just when he feels his orgasm approaching, Gavin takes his hand away. He must make some sort of distressed noise, because his detective immediately reassures him.
"Shhh, shhh, I've still got you. You're good, so good for me, baby."
Gavin rearranges their legs as he speaks, holding both hands on Nines's sides to help support and balance him with his hands still gripping his wrists behind his back. The relocation stops with their legs staggered, Nines kneeling with one of Gavin's legs between both of his own instead of straddling his whole lap.
"You wanted to sit in my lap, didn't you kitten?" Gavin says. It is not a question. "So sit."
Nines doesn't understand, but he lowers himself back down anyway to [sit] on top of—
Oh.
Both of Gavin's hands go to his hips this time, showing him how to grind down on the thigh between his legs. The pleasure is not as [focused] as being petted with his thumb, but he finally gets pressure against his entrance as well.
"C'mere."
Nines doesn't realize he's broken posture to slump forward until Gavin pulls him in all the way, carefully nestling him to rest against his chest—although the android does still have to bend slightly to put their heads on an even level due to the height difference.
"Is this what you wanted?" Gavin turns his head to speak softly in his ear. "All those times you crawled in my lap, sat here like this, knowing how goddamn hard you get me?"
Nines whimpers and takes it, almost like a punishment, but so [good]. He only moves his hips as Gavin's hands direct them, as his leg pushes up and his hands pull him down.
"I shouldn't even be this nice to you." Gavin lets out a sigh. "But fuck it, you're cute. Go ahead and take a freebie, baby."
Nines tries to make his next whine sound a bit more questioning, to indicate he doesn't understand the meaning of that either. Luckily, Gavin pays attention. He always pays attention to Nines, in a [good] way, not afraid or gossiping about him behind his back.
"I'm going to let you come this time," he explains.
Gavin drops a kiss against his temple as Nines fixates on the very specific phrasing [this time]. Now he's the one a little scared, but not bad, not bad, it's too [good] to be [bad].
"Wh-when?" Nines manages to ask.
Gavin laughs, deep and almost mean. The not-fear shivers through him again.
He does not receive an answer.
***
Gavin knows he's a bad man. He's a very, very bad man, but goddamn if the universe hasn't rewarded him for it.
"That's it," he tells the gorgeous android rubbing off in his lap. "Next time I won't even have to show you how. Leave my hands free so I can have a smoke."
A cigarette is damn near the only thing that could make this any better. If this isn't a one-time curiosity experiment for Nines, he'll really have to try that the next time.
But for now, he focuses on the present, the absolute goddamn gift Nines is.
"Been waiting for this all day, haven't you?"
He doesn't give Nines time to answer. His thigh flexes underneath the slick cunt desperately grinding into it, and his android whimpers out static.
"How many times have you come already?" he asks.
"S-s-seven," Nines answers through a glitch.
Well. Gavin has to at least work him up to his own number, doesn't he?
"And no refractory period. Goddamn." Gavin sighs in mild envy while petting through his hair. "I could keep you here, just like this, all evening long. Keep you coming and begging for hours."
Nines lets out a grinding noise that might be the android equivalent of a sob. His hips finally lose their rhythm under Gavin's hand, just chasing his own pleasure now. He really shouldn't allow that so easily, but then again, Nines is a virgin who's never done kink before. Or anything else, actually.
So Gavin lets him have it.
But since he's a bad man, not an altruistic one, he pulls Nines's head back by his hair to see his pretty face, eyes wide and unfocused, lips slightly parted. There's a soft blue blush across his cheek's he's never seen before, and his LED practically strobes in his temple.
"Good boy, gonna make you come every time you sit this pretty little pussy in my lap."
Nines squeezes his eyes shut and whines. That's all right. He's too fucked out to make eye contact anyway, but one thing that isn't allowed …
Gavin presses his thumb inside the android's lips, pushing down on his tongue until his mouth drops open. He rubs the pad of it back and forth against the soft muscle for a moment, then down to smear the wet faux-saliva across his bottom lip.
"Keep your mouth open," he orders. "You're only allowed to come if you open that pretty mouth for me."
Nines gives a jerky nod, and Gavin sits back to enjoy the show. He pets his free hand across the android's chest and sides, feeling him up through the thin t-shirt as he rides his leg like he downloaded a Traci program to do it.
Eventually, the android starts spinning more red than yellow, hot air pushed out of his mouth with nearly even exhale, and he pushes his tongue out farther over his lips to show that his mouth is open.
And ohhh, Gavin is so bad. He rubs his thumb over that soft, pink tongue until it's nice and wet, then reaches up underneath his shirt to rub circles around one hard nipple.
Nines starts letting out shuddering sobs that Gavin lets wash over him, feeling them go straight to his dick like the android is being a good little companion and licking up his shaft. Next time, next time …
Finally, he scrounges around deep down in his soul to find some mercy.
"Come on my leg, baby."
He barely gets to "my" before Nines obeys, face dropping slack and LED pulsing a steady Yellow. Red. Yellow. Gavin gets to watch as his tongue gives the tiniest little flexes, like he's sucking cock in a dream.
If he were nice, he'd press his thumb back inside and help his orgasm along by giving Nines something to suck on.
Instead, he waits it out. Good training requires the sub to be just as desperate for it as you are, and he's going to let Nines work his way through a few orgasms with his mouth open and searching, so that when he finally presses the head of his cock into those sweet pretty lips, his android won't feel anything but gratitude.
When Nines finally slumps forward and begins crying against his neck, Gavin lets go of his hair and rubs both hands up and down his back.
"Shhh, hey, I got you," he says softly. "You were good, so good, baby. It's OK, just let it all out."
Nines sniffles, then begins studiously licking up his tears. Gavin would be a little concerned about his sub getting too deep into the headspace for their first time, except Nines licking his face, neck, and any other body part he can reach is pretty typical.
"Did that feel good?"
That gets a slow sigh of air that's just warm, not scalding hot. Gavin rubs a hand up the android's chest next, and Nines starts up a rumbling purr. Blue light spins in the corner of his eye. So he'll take all that as a yes.
"You want kisses?" he asks next.
Nines immediately butts his face against Gavin's cheek. He shouldn't have let the asshole learn how to be social from his fucking cats.
"All right, all right," he grumbles.
Gavin scoops up the lanky android in his arms as much as he can and turns them to the side so they can lay down on the couch, with himself on top of course. Nines lounges back against the cushions, black hair fanning out around his head like a dark halo. He reaches for Gavin and tugs on his shirt when he spends too long admiring the view.
Since he's already so spoiled anyway … Gavin obliges him with kisses. Nines hums and purrs throughout it, LED now a gentle baby blue.
"Did you like that?" Gavin asks quietly between the two of them.
He should have started this scene with that—some rules and a safeword at least—but he'll try to make up for it now with the aftercare.
Nines nods shyly, presenting his face for more kisses. Gavin gives them to him, but he keeps each one light and short to help them both wind down. They need to talk about if this will be an ongoing arrangement, and if Nines just wants to sub or if he wants to really dig deep and roleplay as Gavin's personal companion android.
Gavin tries to open up that conversation. "What do you want now, baby?"
Nines slowly opens his eyes and blinks up at him. His LED turns a slow, lazy yellow for a moment while he glances down.
Then he looks back up and clearly says, "Dick."
Gavin reflexively looks down at his own crotch—which is apparently where Nines was looking, not just demurely averting his gaze, the thirsty little bitch. He meets Nines's eyes again and sees the android watching him expectantly, like a pillow princess waiting to be serviced.
"Don't know how anyone mistook you for a detective," Gavin tells him. "When you're obviously such a slut."
Nines blushes and closes his eyes, but he doesn't bother to hide his preening smirk.
"But you're gonna have to earn that, baby," Gavin continues.
Nines opens his eyes to shoot him the wounded look he learned from their little beasties when being removed from the bed so Gavin can get some goddamn sleep without an eight pound cat laying on his face.
"I can be good," he promises. He glances down between them again. "I do not have a refractory period."
And then he looks up at Gavin from underneath his lashes with those big blue eyes, and all thoughts of kink negotiation and safe words take a running leap and crash through the window.
"I'm going to take off your pants and play with that pretty pussy of yours until you start crying again."
Nines nods eagerly. He even lifts his hips like a good boy to help Gavin peel the yoga pants off him, a sticky strand of lubrication stringing between his lips and the crotch for a moment before the thread breaks. That gets the android blushing and whirring again, but Gavin just chuckles.
He lifts the t-shirt too, but instead of taking it off, he tucks it behind Nines's neck. It's a pitiful restraint, especially against an RK model, but Nines obligingly tucks his arms back behind his back, then waits obediently for Gavin to begin.
And this had better be a long-term thing, because Gavin doesn't think he can ever let anyone touch his android after this. Not with how Nines is looking at him, so open and sincere, without a single doubt that whatever happens next will be good and safe.
He might be a bad man, but shit. At least he knows that. And he also knows how many losers and assholes are out there, sociopaths and abusers and people who are honestly just too dumb and selfish to notice when they hurt someone.
No, his Nines is never going to experience any of that.
"Did you think about me when you touched yourself?" Gavin asks.
He runs his hands up the insides of Nines's legs while he asks the question. That's unfair enough, but rubbing his thumbs right at the creases in his thighs as Nines tries to answer borders on mean.
"I—I, yes. Did." Nines stutters.
Gavin skirts his hands up higher, just barely resting on the outsides of his flushed lips. His clit is big enough to push out past them, a teasing little peek-a-boo that makes Gavin's mouth water. It looks just as fat and swollen with arousal as it had felt when he'd petted over it through the pants.
"Do you like having something in your cunt, baby?"
He gets even meaner when he punctuates this question by using his thumbs to gently pull his lips apart and watch the way his exposed hole clenches and flutters. Nines manages to make his moan sound something like please.
"You have to tell me if you want it," Gavin says sternly. "I'm not just gonna guess about something like that."
Nines frantically nods, his mouth working silently around gasps. He's so worked over just having his legs spread and his pussy put on display. Gavin decides to have mercy—mostly on himself.
"Shhh, OK. I'm going to play with you now."
He circles his thumb around the android's clit gently at first, just watching what kind of reaction partial stimulation to it gets him. Nines shudders out an exhale and his thighs tense.
"That's right, you need to keep your hips still," Gavin tells him.
Nines nods again, blindly, his eyes shut and mouth agape.
"Do you want it like this?"
Gavin slides his other hand up Nines's side, over his chest, to rest lightly on top of his throat. Nines slowly opens his eyes, LED sluggishly spinning yellow. Gavin times the slow circles around his clit to it.
"With rules and taking orders," Gavin explains. "Where you need to obey and behave."
"Yes," Nines breathes out.
He doesn't take that as his real answer right away. "Or do you want it more casual?"
Nines blinks hard, twice, and cocks his head.
"Where I tell you what to do, since I've got more experience. But," He lets go of the android's throat. "You can do what you want. You don't have to hold still or—"
Nines shakes his head no for the first time. "I … I want … to be … good."
"As a good boy, or my own personal companion android,"
Gavin strokes his thumb directly down the length of Nines's swollen clit for the first time.
"That I can pet,"
He keeps his thumb where it is and shifts his fingers to tease the tip of his index against the entrance clenching at it.
"And play with,"
"Yes, yes, please," Nines chants.
Gavin presses the finger inside and it goes so easy. Enough for him to believe Nines really has spent the entire afternoon doing nothing but fucking himself in Gavin's own bed.
"And fuck,"
He adds a second finger without any resistance and gets those tears he promised. He really can't stop a grin from spreading across his face at that, just as sharp and vicious as any of the RK's interrogation protocols.
"Whenever, and however …" He pulls his hand out entirely, leaving Nines gasping and wrenching his eyes back open to stare up at him in pleading confusion. "I want."
Nines sniffles and starts to shift his hips to seek out any stimulation he can. Gavin stills them with both hands, and tries to keep his voice soft and free of judgment for the next part.
"Do you still want to behave?" he asks.
He watches as Nines realizes what that really means. What he would be promising Gavin—just for this scene. They really do still need to have an actual talk before he'll accept anything as a permanent, serious answer, but he can't resist at least throwing this option out there for now.
Nines tilts his head back to release steam, but then he settles back down. His whole body eases in a way Gavin has never seen before actually—even though he rejected his programming in terms of working for either Cyberlife or the DPD, it always still shone through in his perfect posture and too-formal speech.
This is the first time he's ever seen the android look … relaxed.
Gavin waits, but he doesn't even attempt to hide the way he sweeps his gaze over Nines's body, appreciating the thick chest, pecs well-defined enough to almost give him a bust, nipples hard and begging for attention, and his legs still spread wide, showing off a perfectly manicured triangle of soft black curls right over where his cunt drools onto the couch.
He drags his eyes back up to meet Nines's soft look, utterly relaxed and blinking slowly. He already knows what the answer will be just from that, but he still waits for it.
"Yes, Detective."
***
***
this was commissioned by @gavinisqueertbh and you can find my commission info pinned to the top of my blog! subscribers to my patreon get early access to all my commissioned fics two weeks before they’re posted here and on AO3 for free ^^
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hardskz · 5 years ago
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[ 2:16 pm ] "look at our pretty little kitty, finally all obedient and shit. chan, what do you think?"
a combination of arousal and humiliation washes over you when student council president!chan cocks a brow and licks his lips at the sight of the cat ears on your head and the choker with a golden bell on your neck that's all student council vice president!minho's doing. the corners of his lips quirk upwards once his eyes go lower and stop at your dripping heat.
you're keeping your thighs spread apart with your hands, feeling the heat rise up your cheeks as chan eye-fucks you. a part of you just wants to become one with the swivel chair you're sitting on because fuck, cat ears are one thing but having to wear a fucking collar with a bell attached in the office where anyone could walk in is something completely different.
"cute," is everything chan says before he steps closer to tap the bell, making it jingle softly. "she looks so embarrassed but she's still enjoying it." you're trembling when he shamelessly lets his eyes roam your body once more, resting at the one bra strap that fell off your shoulder.
"n-no..." your breath hitches when minho enters your peripheral vision with a bullet vibrator in his hand. he shoos chan to the side before he drops on his knees and sets the vibrator on its highest setting, the sound making you tense up.
"oh yes." he grins. "it's what you deserve after being such a brat and disobeying our rules."
you howl when he presses the toy against your clit. the vibrations cause your body to jerk, making the bell's ring echo inside the room.
"what a loud kitty. so shameless," minho chastises but amusement fills his tone and he forces the vibrator harder against the bundle of nerves. "but finally obeying. keep your legs spread apart like that."
your legs weigh heavy against your hands and it costs you your entire sanity to not shut them. the vibrations send ripples of ecstasy through your entire body and you feel your orgasm approaching sooner than expected. you throw your head back once he starts fingering you with his free hand, the high pitched tone of the bell reverberating louder. you're already causing so much noise, so you bite your lip to muffle your moans.
"don't hide your voice," chan warns sternly a few meters away from you. "don't hold back at all."
"i can't possibly do that! someone's going to find out!" you manage through grit teeth, jolting up with a wail once minho adds a second finger and curls them, landing on your sweet spot.
"then let somebody find out."
and with that, chan kicks the door open. your eyes widen as you see the other desks and the couch in the empty room. no no no, please, no, he can't be fucking serious right now. it's only a matter of time until lunch break's over and the rest of the student council makes their grand entrance. all they have to do is look to the right once they step a foot inside, and your current pathetic state is the first thing they'll be welcomed with.
"if that's the only way to teach you a lesson, then so be it. for all i care, let the entire school know that our number one delinquent is actually a whimpering bitch who'd go this far to have a dick fill her up."
chan takes a few strides until he's right behind you, fingers gripping your chin and forcing you to look straight ahead. he props his chin on your shoulder and his breath fanning your ear gives you shivers. his free hand trails down your heaving chest and briefly stop at your bra, before he yanks it down and lets the garment hang even lower against your skin. the cool air hits your revealed nipple and you bite off a moan at the coldness.
chan's hand wanders even further south until he's dangerously close to your cunt, just ghosting over your inner thighs. minho slides one finger out of you and you nearly complain, until chan stuffs a finger inside. you groan at the uncoordinated rhythm the two have set.
"this is your final warning unless you want the biggest punishment of your life. keep your legs spread apart, be loud, and look at the fucking door. we're going to make you come even if someone barges in, so the least you can do is watch him as we fuck you over to oblivion." chan growls. you nod wordlessly, but the silence doesn't last for long until he starts pumping his finger in and out in a ruthless pace. minho speeds up too as well as moves the vibrator in circular motions, and you thrash around as the two do whatever they please.
"i'm sorry! please let me cum now! i don't want anyone to watch!"
"eh? but imagine how shocked hyunjinnie would look yet he'd still manage to grow hard. you know, he gets turned on easily and isn't necessarily the gentlest. or is changbin your type? seungmin? felix?" minho taunts and doesn't miss the way you clench around them. "maybe we should let the entire school council watch this little show."
"n-no! not that, please, i'm begging!"
"filthy liar," chan snarls. "we can feel you tightening around our fingers, kitten. plus, you shouldn't have been a brat in the first place and caused a ruckus on school grounds again."
the pressure of their fingers and the toy is too much. your mind is hazy and overworked from all the sensations, and you don't realize you're borderline screaming when you cum on their fingers. the two keep going even after you're all milked out. it's when you slump against the chair and whine weakly due to the overstimulation that they stop, but they still keep their fingers inside and minho sets the vibrator on the lowest setting before placing it on your hardened nipple.
"g-guys, i already came. i've been a good kitty, i don't want to be punished anymore," you sob in your post-orgasm daze, body trembling.
"you've been a good kitty," minho starts with a sweet smile, "but we have to make sure that you're really sincere."
"h-huh?"
"in other words," chan mumbles as he nips on your neck, "your lesson isn't done yet."
as if on cue, the school bell rings.
not even a second later, the door busts open.
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acedesigns · 4 years ago
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A Fortune [FF7: Reeve/Reader]
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Word Count: 2411
“I’m Cait Sith! A fortune reader, it’s nice to meetcha!” the robotic cat chimed and did a small dance.
You giggled lightly and knelt down to the cat’s level. You stuck out a hand to shake its paw. “It’s nice to meet you, too! I’m [Y/N].”
“A beautiful name for a beautiful person!” The cat grinned, showing off its realistic fangs. “How about a fortune? It’ll be on the house!” You nodded your head. The cat threw its golden crown into the air and spun around. After it caught it, the cat jumped onto its moogle mount. A piece of paper popped out of the top of the mount.
“Your true love will rescue you in a time of no hope!” the cat read out loud.
You blinked and tilted your head. “Must be way off in the future, then.” You looked around at the desert prison you were currently trapped in. “Or maybe pretty soon. But I seriously doubt my true love is in this place.” You laughed lightly. “Is it okay if I keep that fortune, Cait Sith?”
The cat hopped off the moogle and trotted up to you. He gently placed it off at you and smiled with his eyes closed.
--
“I wish I was able to ride the chocobo,” you pouted while being released from Corel Prison. Cait Sith somehow snorted through his puppet body. It sounded almost as if there was a real person speaking through. “What’s so funny?”
“You like those giant birds?” Cait Sith looked up at you with a slight smirk, however that was possible on the cat’s body.
“Well, yeah. I love animals in general. It’s why I’m with this band of misfits. To try and save the planet from Sephiroth, Jenova, and Shinra.”
“Well, why don’t we go ahead and ride some Chocobos? There are some that gather right out of the desert. We can make a pitstop on the way to Cosmo Canyon.”
You stopped in your tracks and a wide grin enveloped your face. “Really?” Cait Sith looked over his shoulder at you and nodded. “Yes!” You ran up and grabbed the cat’s body. You spun in a circle laughing before placing the cat back on the moogle. “This is going to be so much fun!”
--
The bonfire crackled into the night. You sat with your knees pulled to your chest. The flames kissed your skin with its heat. With a sigh, you looked up into the sky where smaller bonfires twinkled in space.
“What are you thinking about?” Cait Sith spoke. You glanced over, picking up that whoever was controlling him was the one asking the question. There was a slight change in movements whenever Cait Sith was on autopilot or whenever the person controlling him took over. You never said anything to anyone about it.
Looking back at the fire you, shrugged. “I just…No matter what I do, it’ll never be enough. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m just doing more harm than anything else. If I should just stop.”
Cait Sith jumped off his moogle and sat in your lap. Your fingers automatically started to run through his fur. “How about another fortune?” he asked quietly. You hummed in agreement. This time, there was no dance. Instead, he sat there. “You make every day special.”
You smiled lightly. “That’s not really a fortune, Cait.”
“Fine! Then, how about, someone out there loves you!”
A small giggle passed your lips. “And who would that be?”
“That’s a secret!”
--
“You’re a spy for Shinra?” you asked numbly while you stared at your robotic friend. The whole time, you were friends with a spy for Shinra. The very same people who were responsible for this shit show.
Cait Sith’s body moved under the control of the spy. He turned to face you. “I’m sorry, [Y/N].”
You shook your head and stormed away. Tears falling from your face.
--
It felt wrong, letting Cait Sith go into that temple by himself. To solve the puzzle and have his body crushed. Yes, he wasn’t really alive. But you couldn’t help but feel as if he were dying right there. You sat on a hill from a distance, with your knees up to your chest. You sniffled. You were angry with him and you wanted to hate him. But deep down, that cat was still your friend.
“Crying over me?”
You turned around quickly, seeing a new Cait Sith standing there. You rubbed your eyes and shook your head. “No.”
“Ah, come on!” He bounced over towards you. Then, his voice shifted and made you jump. It was no longer Cait Sith’s. Instead, it was that of a man. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I know it’s not enough, but I am sorry about how this all happened, [Y/N].”
“You’re still a spy for Shinra,” you said, remembering exactly who the puppet was. “We’re just hostages with you around.” You stood up and began walking away from the temple that was off in the distance to re-join Nanaki and Cid.
--
You were sitting in a bedroom at the Icicle Inn. Your face was buried into a pillow as sobs caused chaos on your body. Your chest heaved up and down as you gasped for oxygen. Your fingers pulled on your hair.
“Come on, wake up. Wake up. This can’t be real,” you cried with hiccups.
A light weight sunk next to you on the bed, but you didn’t pay it any mind. At this point, you didn’t care if they were there to kill you. It’d be better than the nightmare you were living in.
“I know I’m not the one you want, but I’m here for you,” the spy’s voice sounded through Cait Sith.
“I can’t believe she’s gone,” you wailed.
“I-I know,” the man sighed. There was a sniffle, sounding like he had been crying as well. “I told her mother what had happened today.”
“Oh god.” You curled up tighter in on yourself. You felt the paws on Cait Sith’s body touch your arm. More sobs sounded from you.
“I’m sorry,” the man whispered. He sniffled more and you could hear his breathing become uneasy as he too, cried.
--
It was seven days after the calamity from the sky was summoned to doom all on the planet to a painful death. It was seven days since Cloud had gone missing. It was seven days since you were taken prisoner by Shinra. It was seven days since you’ve had hope.
The doors to your cell opened and a man in a blue suit quickly entered and shut the door behind him. He was alone. There weren’t any soldiers to protect him if you decided you wanted to attack. Even if you did attack, it would be pointless. You were here to die, simple as that.
“We need to be fast, we don’t have much time,” he said in a hushed tone with an oddly familiar voice.
You sat up from your stiff cot. Confusion coursed through your thoughts. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m getting you out of here, [Y/N],” he whispered. He quickly walked over to you and reached his hand out for you to take. “Heidegger and Scarlet are demanding a public execution of everyone affiliated with Avalanche. Rufus is against it, but there’s only so much he can do without gyahahaha and kyahaha rebelling against him. So he asked me to help with rescuing you.”
Your eyes widened, realizing just how close to death you were at that moment. “Just who exactly are you?”
The man shook his head. “There’s not enough time to explain right now, but I’m here to get you out. Tifa and Barret will also be rescued, but they’re being held elsewhere. Now, we have to hurry. Please, let me help you.”
Biting your lip, you took his hand and allowed him to pull you off the bed. He hurried towards the door to your cell and opened it. Looking both ways, he pulled you down the hall in a half run. He paused whenever there was a corner to make sure the coast was clear. Then, he’d drag you along.
“We have to get to the airport, there’s an aircraft waiting for you all to escape,” the man said in huffs of air while gasping for oxygen. He halted suddenly, almost causing you to crash into him. “Shit.” He turned around and pushed you against the wall to where his body was shielding you from view. Soldiers ran past, not paying any mind to him or you.
You looked up at his face and into his dark eyes. “Just who are you?”
The man looked down at you. His gaze softened, but he shook his head. “I want you to know, that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe. Just know that.” He pulled away and took your hand once more before running out onto the Junon air hanger.
He let go of your hand and stopped. “You need to get onto that aircraft. I’ll make sure you’re not being followed.” Just then, Cait Sith, Barret, and Yuffie ran past him. “Cait Sith! Make sure [Y/N]’s safe!”
“Wait!” you protested as Cait Sith and Yuffie dragged you away. “Just tell me your name!” You watched as the man was getting smaller and smaller. The last thing you saw of him was the smile on his face. With a sigh, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the fortune.
--
The Highwind was searching throughout the planet for Cloud. You sat on the ground with your hands running over the fortune Cait Sith gave you when you first met. Periodically, your eyes would flicker over to the puppet who was running around, making sure Barret and Tifa were okay. Then, he came over to you.
“Are you alright, [Y/N]?” Cait Sith asked. Though it was obvious he was now being directly controlled.
“Are you that man that saved me?” you asked.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Well, neither did you!”
The others turned to look at the pair of you at your outburst. Once you settled down, they looked away to give you privacy.
“Alright,” Cait Sith sighed and jumped off the moogle. He moved to be next to you and his voice switched, though it was just loud enough for only you to hear over the roars of the Highwind’s engine. “Yes, that man was me.”
“Why did you save us?”
“President Rufus was going to have you all rescued. He was originally just going to have the Turks do it. However, I wanted to personally make sure you were safe, [Y/N]. That’s why I let Cait Sith handle Tifa and Barret.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Why me?”
“I have been watching you since the Golden Saucer, [Y/N]. At first, it was to spy on all of you. However, I felt myself getting drawn to you. The more I watched you, it was the more I was watching over you. Making sure you were safe. I came to terms with the fact that I fell in love with you. Now, this is probably weird hearing from the body of a stuffed cat. It would have been better saying it face-to-face.”
You shifted uncomfortably and gave out an awkward laugh. “Yeah, maybe.” You glanced down at your fortune.
“But if you’ll let me, I would like to tell you this face-to-face. If you’re not okay with that, I understand.”
“Do your fortunes ever come true?” you questioned, still looking over the piece of paper that’s managed to survive for so long.
Cait Sith glanced at what you were holding. “Sometimes, for better or for worse.”
Nodding your head, you glanced at the puppet. “Then, when this is all over, tell me face-to-face.”
--
“I want you all to find a reason to fight,” Cloud told the group. The Highwind was stationary over a grassy field. “Come back in a couple of days when you’ve found that reason. If you don’t come back, that’s fine.”
You stood around and watched as the groups of Avalanche left, one-by-one. Your thoughts were racing as you tried to figure out where you should go. If you went home, you know your parents would never let you leave with meteor threatening to fall.
“[Y/N],” Reeve’s voice sounded from Cait Sith. “Please, come to Midgar. I want to meet you there.”
You nodded at the puppet and left the Highwind with Barret. The pair of you made your way to Midgar. Barret was trembling with excitement to see his daughter again. You, on the other hand, were trembling with nerves on seeing the man who rescued you.
Your fingers kept on running over the fortune. The ink on it was starting to wear off from the oils on your skin. Still, you couldn’t help but grip it tightly.
Upon entering Sector 5, the man in a blue suit and Marlene were standing there. Marlene gasped and ran towards Barret. Barret picked her up and swung her around on his shoulder. You slowly made your way towards the man in the blue suit.
“I’m glad to see you’re safe,” Reeve spoke softly. He glanced towards Barret and Marlene and motioned for you to follow him to the nearby church. “Are you going to go back to the Highwind?”
You watched your feet as you followed him. “I think so. It would be a disgrace to her memory if I didn’t. I have to fight for her.”
Reeve nodded his head. “I understand. Though, if you didn’t go back, I don’t think you would be disgracing her in any way.”
You looked up at him once the pair of you entered the church. “What are you going to do?”
Reeve walked towards the flowers and knelt down. “Cait Sith will be there. I will remain here and make sure Marlene and the rest of Midgar is safe.” He ran his fingers over the petals of a lily. “But I’ll also make sure you’re safe, too.” He took a deep breath and looked over at you. “I do love you. I know you may never feel the same way, and that’s okay.”
You made your way towards him and knelt down. You took a hold of his hand. “I don’t right now. It’ll take some time. But one day, I might.”
Reeve lightly squeezed your hand. “I look forward to that day.”  
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doritopaw101 · 4 years ago
Text
Arc1, book 2: Chapter 12
Icefire always thought of Riverclan as as plump and sleek, well fed from the river. That was until Silverstream told him that the oil issue had gotten worse, and humans were scaring away the fish.
In spite of his pang of pity, Icefire knew he and Graystripe would have to work hard to convince Stormstar that they had really saved the kits.
The Clan leader was at least prepared to give them a chance to explain. "Tell us what happened," Stormstar ordered.
Icefire began at the point when he had heard the kits wailing and seen them stranded on the mat of debris in the river.
"Since when have Thunderclan cats risked their lives for us?" Blackclaw broke in contemptuously as Icefire how he pushed the kits through the torrent to the riverbank.
Icefire wanted to to bite back but couldn't "That's rich coming from the cat that murdered a queen and started countless fights for no good reason other then stupid clan 'glory'"
Blackclaw hissed and looked ready to pounce but Stormstar stopped him "Quiet, Blackclaw! Let him speak. If he's lying, we'll find out soon enough and he does speak truth on that and don't think I forgot what you've done"
While Blackclaw grumbled, Mistyfoot spoke "He's not lying" They were still nuzzling their kits. "Why should Thunderclan steal kits when everyone is struggling to feed everyone, leaf-bare isn't completely over and prey is still scare they don't need more mouths to feed"
"Icefire's story makes sense" Silverstream observed calmly "We had to abandon the camp and shelter in these bushes when the water started to rise again" he explained to Icefire, his voice never falling "When we came to move Mistyfoot's kits, we could only find Primrosekit. Pikekit and Perchkit were missing. The whole nursery had been washed away. They must've been swept along the river to where you found them"
Stormstar nodded slowly, and Icefire realized that the hostility of the Riverclan cats was fading-all except for Blackclaw, who turned his back on the Thunderclan warriors with a snort of disgust.
"In that case, we're grateful to you" Stormstar mewed though he sounded grudging, as if he could hardly bear to be in debt to a pair of Thunders.
"Yes" Mistyfoot mewed. They looked up again, their eyes glowing softly with gratitude. "Without you, my kits would have died"
Icefire dipped his head in acknowledgment. Impulsively, he asked "Is there anything we can do for you? If you can't go back to your camp, and if prey's scare because of the flood-"
"We need no help from Thunderclan" Stormstar growled "Riverclan can look after itself"
"Don't be such a fool" It was Graypool who spoke, with a glare at her leader. Icefire saw Graystripe crouch down at the sound of her voice. Graypool was Splashsong's mother, the guilt would never fade.
"You're too proud for your own good," the elder rasped "How can we feed ourselves, even with the thaw? there is no good fish to eat. The river's practically poisoned; Echomist, Cedarpelt, and Lakeshine are evidence of that"
"It's true Storm" Voleclaw mewed, Shellkit, Mosskit, and Hailkit sitting in between his legs.
"It's all the Twolegs fault" Condorpaw hissed, his tail lashing
"They dumped their trash into the river and we suffer" Tidepaw added
Icefire rolled his eyes at this problem. He knew all about pride but they we're going to die without help. He looked around the Riverclan cats. Most of them couldn't meet his eyes, as if they were ashamed that a cat of another clan should know about their troubles.
"Thunderclan probably already knows when you allowed the white Thunder-rat into our camp" Suneyes growled "I'm sure Bluestar would love that"
"Bluestar doesn't know shit..er..mouse-dung" Icefire retorted "or do you want her to know, cause with your attitude it's getting really temping"
Suneyes's narrowed but her mouth was covered by Grasswhisker, wrapping her tail around her mother's muzzle. It seemed the Riverclan cats took his words seriously.
"Let us help you" Icefire urged "We'll catch prey for you in our territory and bring it to you, until the floods have gone and the river is clean" Even as he made this offer, he knew that he was breaking the warrior code that demanded loyalty to his own clan alone. Bluestar would snap his neck if she found out he was willing to share Thunderclan prey with Riverclan. There was another little bonus to this though, if he helped them the cats of Riverclan could trust him more.
He always thought about becoming leader, more than he cared to admit. Working to bring down Tiger-roar and Nightshade made that take priority by working themself very well into Tiger-roar's good graces, like Nightshade and Miststrike levels. Making Darkstripe jealous was a highlight. He hoped he got a position of power because if Riverclan could trust him then it could work out in the long run. If he couldn't gain leadership, the role of medicine cat or Silverblood could work.
"Would you really help us?" Stormstar asked slowly, his blue and amber eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"Yes" Icefire mewed
"And I'll help too" Graystripe promised
"Then the clan thanks you" Stormstar grunted "None of my cats will challenge you in our territory until the floods go down and we can return to our camp. But after that, we will fend for overselves again" He turned and led the way back to the bushes, His subdued cats followed him, casting glances back at Icefire and Graystripe as they went. He could feel their doubt in his offer to help.
Last to go was Mistyfoot, nudging their kits to their paws and guiding them up the slope where Leopardclaw and Skyeyes were. "Thank you both" she murmured "I won't forget this"
Icefire and Graystripe were left alone as the Riverclan cats disappeared into the bushes. As they picked their way down the slop again toward the river, Graystripe shook her head in disbelief "Hunting for another clan? We must be mad"
"What else could we do?" Icefire retorted as Graystripe licked his muzzle wound "Let them starve?"
"Of course not! But we'll have to be careful. We'll be crowfood if Bluestar finds out"
"If she finds out" Icefire stated
/
It was a cold morning, gray morning. Icefire dragged themself out reluctantly out of the warm embrace of Raveneye and Graystripe cuddled on top of them and kicked Graystripe out of the nest.
"Why?" Graystripe whined
Icefire lowered their head and butted the broad gray shoulder. "Come on, Graystripe" they whispered into their lover's ear "We've got to hunt for Riverclan Pigeon, don't tell me you forgot"
At that, Graystripe gripped his tom flower crown as he leveled himself upright and parted his jaws in an enormous yawn. Icefire felt just as tired as their lover; supplying Riverclan with fresh-kill as well as keeping up with their duties in Thunderclan was taking up all their time and energy. They had crossed the river with prey several times, and so far their luck had held. No Thunderclan cat had found out what they were doing.
The clan was doing well this moons, Littlepaw, Sleetpaw, and Smokypaw passed their assessments as well as their duels and received their warrior names: Littlebreeze, Sleetpelt, and Smokyclaw. Chivekit, Stagkit, and Hawk-kit were apprenticed, Chivepaw had gotten Goldenflower, Stagpaw got Cranewing, and Hawkpaw was given to Larkwing. Seedspots had moved into the nursery, expecting Lionheart's kits. Only a bitch could love a basturd. Petalpaw's training had been given over to Robinwing. Thornkit and Brightkit were apprenticed to Nightshade and Tiger-roar.
Stretching, Icefire glanced cautiously around the den. Most of the warriors were curled among the loss, too sound asleep to ask awkward questions. Tiger-roar was just a mound of two-colored tabby fur in his nest, with white bush in the form of Leopardstorm.
Icefire slipped out between the branches of the den. At first he thought all the other cats were asleep; then he saw Brindleface appear at the entrance to the nursery and lifted their head to sniff the air. As if they didn't like the raw, damp wind that greeted them, they retreated almost at once.
Icefire looked back at Graystripe, who was shaking scraps of moss off his coat. "Okay" they mewed "We can go now"
The two cats bounded across the clearing toward the gorse tunnel. Just as they reached it, two familiar voices behind them called out, "Dad! Dad!"
Icefire froze and turned around, Sunnykitkit and Shrikekit scampering over, yowling at him.
"Why!" Graystripe whined once more
"Starclan knows" Icefire sighed "Let me deal with my kits"
"Where are you going?" Sunnykit panted excitedly as she skidded to a stop in front of the warriors "Can we come with you?"
"No" Graystripe mewed "Kits don't leave camp, only with warriors"
"I'll be an apprentice soon" Sunnykit whined
"Soon isn't now" Icefire reminded his daughter, struggling to keep calm. If they hung around much longer, the whole clan would be awake and wanting know where they were going.
"What's going on?" Cranewing said with a yawn
"Nothing" Graystripe quickly mewed to his sister "Just going for an busy hunt with Icefire"
Cranewing nodded her head in realization "Got ya, come on kits, you can watch me and Stagpaw train"
"You're never around as much" Sunnykit whined, her amber eyes tearful "We miss you"
"The rouges are still out there and who else knows what so none of you will be going anywhere without warriors with you, now go back to your nests" Icefire looked straight ahead so they couldn't see his kits sad faces "Let's go Graystripe"
Moments later they were racing up the ravine with Graystripe at their side.
"Let's hope they won't tell anyone" Graystripe puffed
"We can worry about that later" Icefire panted "I'm sure Cranewing can keep them busy" 'helps me feel less bad'
The two warriors headed for the stepping-stones. The fallen tree was still there to help them cross the river, and hunting close by meant they had less distance to carry the fresh-kill, and were less likely to be spotted.
By the time they reached the edge of the forest, the daylight had grown stronger, but the sunrise was hidden behind a mass of gray cloud. There was spatter of rain in the wind.
Icefire and Graystripe caught the scent of squirrel. Graystripe spotted it and didn't think and chased after it. Icefire facepawed then went after the gray tom. He saw Icefire saw Graystripe chase the squirrel into a log, Icefire went over to the other side. The squirrel hadn't been ready for that and Icefire killed it quickly.
"That's one" Icefire said through the prey.
"Uh..Icy"
"Yeah?"
"I'm stuck"
Icefire rolled his eyes "Of course"
It took a few moments to pull Graystripe out by the tail then just digging into his hind legs and pulling him out. The two warriors continued their hunt until they had killed a rabbit and a couple of mice. By then, although he gladly couldn't see the sun, Icefire knew it must be near sun-high. "We'd better take this to Riverclan" he mewed "They're bound to miss us back at the camp soon"
His was relived as they pasted the fallen tree, the water was no higher, and the crossing seemed easier now that he had done it several times. All the same, Icefire felt uneasy as he scrambled through the branches, knowing that he was in full view of Thunderclan cat who happened to be patrolling the forest's edge.
He and Graystripe swam the last couple of fox-lengths and pulled themselves out of the river on the Riverclan side. When they had shaken the water out of their fur they slunk quickly toward the bushes where Riverclan had made their temporary camp.
A cat must have been on watch, because as they approached, Leopardclaw emerged from the bushes. "Welcome," she mewed, sounding a lot friendlier than she had when she first came upon them with Pikekit and Perchkit.
Icefire followed her into the shelter of the hawthorn branches. The Riverclan cats had worked hard since the floods forced them out their camp, bringing moss for bedding and scraping out a place beside the roots of a large bush where fresh-kill could be stored. Today this was little more than pitiful collection of a few mice and couple of blackbirds, which made the Thunderclan warrior's contribution all the more necessary. Icefire dropped his prey onto the pile, and Graystripe did the same.
"Is that more fresh-kill?" Stonefur appeared with Silverstream and Minnowpool just behind him. "Great!"
"We have to feed Graypool and the royals first" Leopardclaw reminded the gray warrior
"I know Leopardclaw" Stonefur stated, his voice level
"We'll take something for Graypool" Silverstream mewed, stepping between the two calmly "Graystripe grab that rabbit will ya"
Graystripe grabbed the rabbit hesitantly.
"Graypool wants to talk with you Graystripe, don't worry I'll stay around" Silverstream added with a wink ignoring Leopardclaw's disapproving glare
Graystripe stepped lightly and followed Minnowpool and Silverstream out of the bushes.
"They've got the right idea" Stonefur mewed "Icefire, do you want to the nursing queens? Then they can thank you themselves"
Icefire agreed. Following Stonefur, they got curious about something.
"Is is weird being half-clan?"
"It's less about it being weird and more about loyalty with cats, the fact I look more Thunderclan than Riverclan doesn't help"
"Mistyfoot looks more like Bluestar than you do"
"She has Stormstar's figure, I act more like a Thunder from what others say about me being a stubborn as a bass"
"Sometimes you need to be stubborn for things to get done"
"That's what I say but trying saying that from calm and too relaxed cats of Riverclan"
"Leoaprdclaw and Blackclaw seem more stubborn than you"
Stonefur chuckled at that.
They neared the makeshift nursery, Icefire wondered one more thing though "How's it going with Blackclaw?"
"Tossed him like a fish into the river, literally" He pointed to a nick in his already cut ears "Can't stop me from seeing our kits and it's not like Skyeyes going to stop me, Seaweedpaw is a blessing for her help with them"
"How's she doing by the way, Marigoldpaw's been asking"
"Petalstream says she's doing well, she likes using her name sake to make necklaces and crowns for the other apprentices"
"Spottedleaf would be proud"
Stonefur smiled "Yeah, she would"
Icefire padded in and was pleased to see Mistyfoot again, stretched out to their side while their kits suckled contentedly. Swanlight greeted him with a lick on the head as did Dawnscale and Mallowtail, they let their kits come over to him as well. Sootwhisker and Greenflower nodded to him. Suneyes ignored him though her kits sure didn't. What he did notice was Mosspelt and Flameshell.
"Filou" he said curtly, letting Gullkit, Mink-kit, Garkit play with his tail
Flameshell ducked her head like a turtle "I'm sorry I didn't tell you"
Icefire hummed "Who?"
"Well me and Willowheart wanted kits and I offered to carry them"
Icefire turned to Mosspelt "And you?"
"I thought Silvertide told you"
Stonefur led him to a spot further along the ridge where Graypool was crouched on a bed of heather and bracken, tucking into the fresh-kill. He spotted Graystripe looking much calmer than he had been in a while.
They had left quickly, wanting to get back to camp as soon as possible. Icefire still weighed down with anxiety as they crossed the tree truck and went back into Thunderclan territory, though he tried hard to push the problem out of his mind. He had two ideas to use as an excuse, he did the first already.
"Now I want to sleep" Graystripe yawned, grooming his fur and avoiding sitting on his rump. Only a mousebrain would think Graystripe was the dominant one between the two them.
"I hate and love your stamina" he muttered, "We should hunt, at least-"
An excited mew from the edge of the forest interrupted him. "Papa! Dad!"
Icefire stared in disbelief as he saw Sunnykit, Shrikekit, and Rosekit crashed out of the bracken at the edge of the trees.
"Oh, mouse dung!" Graystripe muttered
Icefire padded across the grass, his heart sinking. "What are you three doing here?" he demanded "I told you to stay back at camp"
"I tracked you" Sunnykit announced proudly "All the way from camp"
As he looked at his nephew's shining blue eyes, Icefire felt sick with apprehension, Their chances of slipping back into camp with a story of early hunting had just vanished. They must have seen them crossing the river.
"Sunnykit followed your scent trail right up to the stepping-stones" Shrikekit mewed "Papa, what were you and Graystripe doing in Riverclan territory?
"Why do you smell weird?" Sunnykit asked
Before Icefire could think of a reply, another voice broke in-a low, menacing growl. "Yes, that's what I would like to know, too"
Icefire tried to stay calm as he looked up to see Tiger-roar shouldering his way through the crisp brown bracken.
"You screwed up this time Icefire"
Shit
/
When they reached the camp, Icefire saw Bluestar standing at the foot of the Highrock, Seedspots laying behind her, her plump white belly exposed. A patrol made up of Leopardstorm, Fogtail, Chestnutclaw, and Mousefur was reporting to Bluestar.
"The stream is flooded as far as the Thunderpath" Icefire heard Leopardstorm say. "If the water doesn't go down, we won't be able to make it to the next gathering"
"There's still time before-" Bluestar broke off when she saw Tiger-roar approach her. "Yes, what is is?"
"I've brought these cats to you" the deputy growled "Three disobedient kits, and two traitors"
"Traitors!" Fogtail echoed, Chestnutclaw smirked. Chestnutclaw's eyes met Icefire's with an unpleasant gleam "Just what I'd expect from a kittypet" the reddish-brown tom sneered, he stared at the kits "What were you three thinking?"
"We wanted to see where Papa was going" Sunnykit said
"I've taught you three better than to follow him around"
"Excuse me?" Icefire hissed
"Enough" Bluestar ordered, more like snarled. She nodded to the cats in the patrol "You may go" she glanced at Seedspots who wore an amused grin "all of you" She turned back to Tiger-roar as the cats moved away. "Tell me what happened"
/
"Well if it isn't our newest apprentices, Icepaw and Graypaw"
Icefire looked up from his vole to see Fogtail swaggering toward him, his long tail waving in the air. "Ready for a training session?"
Bluestar hadn't been as mad as he thought. She punished Shrikekit, Sunnykit, and Rosekit with elder duties while she made Icefire and Graystripe do apprentice duties. Shrikekit seemed to enjoy talking with the elders and taking care of them, especially White-eye. Better than Smallear's favoritism over Rosekit.
Chestnutclaw had tried to contest his custody of their kits, stating that he was a danger and trouble for them. Considering what they and Graystripe had been caught doing, good will wasn't exactly on his side. Icefire was allowed in the nursery when deemed needed or at night any other time the kits were to be watched by Chestnutclaw or another royal. It made his blood boil that he was denied his kits but Bluestar did remind him that he didn't help his case, he was mad he agreed with her. =
Icefire and Graystripe took their time to finish their meals, then they had to follow Fogtail out of camp.
"Now Icepaw-"
"I'mma stop you right there before I slice your other ear" Icefire snapped before Fogtail could even start "Let's get this over with"
The day was cold and gray, just how he liked it especially when rain had began to fall but prey was hard to find. It was hard to pinpoint any movement for him and Fogtail wasn't making it easier, when he sneered in his ringing ears. Even if he lost his sight he could still make a good shot for Fogtail's ear or muzzle.
He ended up smacking Fogtail when he made him lose a dove.
He regretted nothing.
/
Icefire had a bad feeling in his belly. He was already ticked cause his nest in the apprentices den made him uncomfortable. Goosefeather just told him to grin and bear it. The apprentices had stared at him with wide eye, as if they couldn't believe what they were seeing. Swiftpaw sneered at him, probably encouraged by Fogtail.
The good was that Bluestar had thought he and Graystripe learned their lesson. He was glad.
He wasn't glad when he found out he was stuck on a flood patrol with Tiger-roar, Chestnutclaw, and Fogtail. A recipe for disaster, or he thought but they seemed peaceful, it weirded him out.
The sun rose higher, and the sky turned to a deep blue as the four cats journeyed through the forest toward Fourtrees.
As he padded after Tiger-roar, Icefire was distracted by tempting movements in the undergrowth as prey scurried to and fro. After a while the deputy let them stop and hunt for themselves. He wasn't going to let Tiger-roar's good mood go to waste. he quickly caught a vole with a swift pounce.
Then they went on, Icefire's stomach was warm and full from the vole he had eaten. Then they reached the top of a slope and looked down toward the stream that crossed Thunderclan territory, separating them from Fourtrees. Tiger-roar let out a long, soft hiss, Chestnutclaw lashed his tail, and Fogtail yowled in dismay.
Icefire shared their exasperation. Usually the stream was shallow enough for cats to cross easily, keeping their paws dry by leaping from rock to rock. Now the water had spread into a glistening sheet in either side, while the current churned swiftly along the original course of the stream.
"Fancy crossing that?" Fogtail spat "I don't"
Without a word, Tiger-roar began padding upstream, following the edge of the floodwater toward the Thunderpath. The land sloped gently upward, and before long, Icefire could see when he narrowed his eyes the shining surface was broken by tussocks of grass and clumps of bracken poking above the water.
"This isn't as deep as when Leopardstorm last reported" Tiger-roar mewed "We try to cross here"
Icefire had doubts but knew if he said a word, he would be mocked for his kittypet roots. He quietly followed Tiger-roar, who was already wading into the flood. He couldn't help noticing that Fogtail's ears twitched nervously as he splashed in beside him. Chestnutclaw just brought waves as he tried to get to land, Icefire wasn't helping him in the slightest.
In front of him, the current was brown where it stirred up mud from the streambed. It was much too wide for a cat to leap, and the stepping-stones were completely submerged.
"Those damn Rivers were right" Tiger-roar growled
Whiteclaw and Morningriver had come to Thunderclan to warn them about the water levels but the Thunderclan wanted to see it for themselves.
"Come here! Look at this!"
Icefire splashed toward him. The deputy, with Fogtail and Chestnutclaw beside him, was standing at the edge of the stream. A branch was lodged in front of them, swept into place by the current so that it stretched from one bank to the other.
"Just what we need" Tiger-roar grunted in satisfaction
Icefire felt a shove "Icefire, check that it's safe, will you?" Chestnutclaw mewed
Icefire saw Goosefeather floating above the muddy water, the gray speckled tom said nothing. It was foreboding and Icefire knew it.
"Scared, kittypet?" Chestnutclaw taunted him.
"Of drowning, yes" he snapped at the brutish warrior "I don't see you eager to do it, so shut your trap before I do it for you" He turned back to the murky water. Gritting his teeth, he stepped onto the end of the branch. He would not let them, least of them Chestnutclaw taunt him and have the pleasure of reporting him.
Immediately it sagged under his paws, and he dug his claws in hard, fighting for balance. He could see brown water racing a mouse-length below, and for a few heartbeats he thought he would plunge straight into it.
Then he steadied himself. He began to move forward cautiously, pacing his paws in a straight line one after the other. The slender branch bounced under weight with every step. Twigs caught in his fur, threatening his balance, 'We'll never get to the gathering like this', Icefire thought.
Gradually he drew closer to the middle of the stream, where the current was strongest. The branch tapered until it was barley as thick as his tail, making it harder to find a pawhold. Pausing, Icefire measured the distance left; was he close enough to leap safely yet?
Then the branch lurched under him. Instinctively he gripped tighter with his claw. He heard Tiger-roar yowl, "Icefire! Get back!"
Icefire tried to double back, he sway precariously. Then the branch lurched again and suddenly it was free, racing along with the surging water. Icefire slipped side ways, and thought he heard Tiger-roar yowl once more as the waves closed over his head.
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peachyteabuck · 5 years ago
Text
hungry for me, sequel to“survive the summer”
summary: a commission of a second installment of survive the summer, for @myhoneybeeheart
pairing: thor odinson x reader
words: 4,009
trigger warnings: praise kink, dubcon, mentions of arranged marriage, taking of virginity, degradation, oral (f recieving), shame associated with religious upbringing, light edging
ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi
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Somewhere – somewhere you know exists but also doubt is real – somewhere between right in front of you and a million miles away, you hear Thor calling out to you. You have to make a sizable effort to parse his words from the roaring of blood in your ears and haze of pleasure clouding your thoughts. You can hear him, barely, and can sense him - as if you were stuck in the bottom of an iced-over lake, if you were buried six feet under, if you were lost in a cave. Sometimes when you bathe you dunk yourself under the freezing water to quiet out all the noise, making all your siblings’ voices and animals’ screams sound garbled and, blessedly, muted.
Now, despite you being on dry land and nowhere near a body of water large enough to drown yourself in, it sounds the same – the beacon from a lighthouse, the beckoning home, the call to attention. It all sounds the same to you.
“Baby,” Thor coos above you. His voice is thick and savory like warmed molasses and pours into you just as smooth. Somehow you can feel it on you – flowing between your breasts and onto your stomach and pooling in your abdomen. It’s warm and creamy and gooey and makes you feel sunlit and beautiful and you could only stay in this feeling forever…“Come back, baby, come back to me. Come back so I can see that pretty face of yours.”
You don’t, can’t, say anything because now his giant cock is filling you and all you want to do is cry from the mind-numbing satisfaction and your whole body is on fire and also over ice and is it humid? You wonder if it’s humid because your whole body is covered in sweat and you feel like you’re suffocating and you’re gasping for air because the air is too tense to breathe. It’s when he slaps you lightly, grabs your chin and makes you look at him that you finally are able to think somewhat-rationally, logically, concisely…well, rationally, logically, and concisely enough to piece together whatever the man is saying along with the appropriate response.
“You good, love?” he asks. Somehow, you find enough energy and muscle control to nod. It’s faint and feeble as a last breath, but Thor sees, comprehends it nonetheless. He kisses at your temple before speaking again, nosing at your hairline afterward. The gesture is comforting, reassuring; especially given what he says next. “Good, ‘cause I’m just getting started.”
It’s enough to make you gasp out, grab at him as if that would tether you to some vague definition of reality. You whine as he pulls back from you, growling at you to stay put, to remain in your highly vulnerable position. Maybe out of fear, maybe out of anticipation, maybe out of a mixture of both – you accede.
Thor falls to his knees on the hardwood floor, hitting the worn circles laid there by years of begging for forgiveness with a heavy thud. It distracts you, knocks you off guard enough that the man can grab you by the ankles and drag you closer to him without so much as a protest. Before you could register what was happening, Thor’s gotten you folded in half – legs bent and pressed to your chest with one forearm pressed into the notches of your knees to keep you there.
You’re confused, eyebrows furrowed as you attempt to find your bearings on a situation so foreign to you Thor might as well be speaking a different language. “What are y-“
You’re soon interrupted by your whole body melting as his flat tongue presses to the crest of your center. You relax easily, body becoming lax quick as a snap. “Oh! Oh, Oh my God, I’m-“
The art of language, of coherent language, seems to wash away as you collapse fully onto the bed. If you had control over your muscles, if your brain would regain its rightful possession over your skin and bones maybe you’d pull at Thor’s hair, scratch his back, grip the sheets. Nothing of the sort is under your current ability, and you find yourself covering your face with flat, pliant hands. What you’re covering yourself from is not important – maybe you’re terrified your eyes will open and you’ll have to face the hand-painted portrait of your Father. Maybe worse, you’d have to face the man between your legs, the almighty whose stubble scratches at the stretch marks between your legs and whose mouth drinks at the most vulnerable part of you.
One of his thick fingers presses into you with ease, obscene slick sounds filling your bedroom.
“Oh God,” you moan just above a whisper. You’re sure you look possessed now – eyes rolled to the back of your head and mouth banging open and body moving on its own accord. “God, don’t stop!”
You can feel Thor smile into the skin of your sopping cunt, his tongue tracing your lips before slipping another finger into and pressing just so – each twitch of his fingers making nearly making you black out from how overwhelming good it feels.
It’s not long before your skin is hot and tight and you’re about to burst, and you can feel your entire body wrapping around a tight coil laid atop a hot frying pan and you just…you just need…you just-
You nearly kill Thor when he pulls away, his fingers receding away from that perfect spot inside of you. It hurts, it physically hurts and if you weren’t pissed as an ox you’d beg for him to continue.
With hair wild and cheeks red you sit up and grab Thor’s face with both your hands, your palms becoming wet with your slick.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” you hiss. You feel like a sopping wet cat who’s been dunked into a river by a hellbent child. With his shit-eating grin, the resemblance is uncanny. God, you want to hit him to hard the SMACK! is heard by the next town over.
“Just gettin’ you ready, love,” he says – syrupy drawl both beautiful and antagonizing. Whatever way he means it, you press your thighs together to trap his hand there. Thor makes no move to remove it, just smiling and glowing and looking at you like you hung the stars.
“Ready for what,” you say through grit teeth. You search his eyes (and the rest of his face, for that matter) for answers, for explanation. All you see is fire in his eyes and his bottom lip stuck between his teeth and him looking you up and down like a man planning on where to shoot a deer stuck in a bear trap and before you know it, Thor is on top of you and his cock is stuffing you full and you’re digging your nails into his back.
When your sisters and cousins would whisper and giggle about seasonal farmhands who bathed naked far up the river, who blushed when you complimented them and leaned against the rickety fences when they spoke, you thought that would be the kind of guy you’d lose such an important part of you to. You thought you’d wake up one day to find yourself promised to some boy who was skinny and sun-burnt and did as she told him and worked in the field.
This feels the exact opposite of the man above you, the man inside you. Large and sun-kissed and charismatic – he reminds you of a wild stallion, muscly and free and vicious and unstoppable and untamed and a challenge. You admire him the same way, are enchanted by him and his undomesticated, ruthless ways which are foreign and fierce to you and you’re simply breathless.
Thor stretches your legs up to your chest and soon you’re wailing, trying to grab at the worn quilt you’ve had since you were a child for a lifeline, a reminder you have control over some of your body, something.
“Oh,” you cry. You find yourself at a loss for words, the art of speech lost in favor of grunting and moaning and barely-intelligible “yes”s and “please”s and “don’t stop”s. Your legs are wrapped tightly around Thor’s waist, keeping him close; even if your legs were spread, though, it’s not as if Thor would want to pull away. It’s not as if the only thing tying him to you is the increasingly-weak hold on him, as if the only anchor is your nails leaving red, angry crescent-shaped indentations all over his back, shoulders, ass, sides. Just as your hands map each inch of his skin, his mouth does the same for yours – he pants, hot and open-mouthed, into equally-feverish uncharted territory. He tastes you, tastes the sweet-salty sweat that run over scars reminiscent of years of farm work.
Each time his teeth, tongue, lips so much as brush the gnarled skin the memories come flooding back, reminders of a life now considered “past.” The scenes from a life you no long recognize coat the pleasure, the present; they play behind your eyes as you feel yourself falling thousands of feet below.
His chin nudges the long one above your breasts you’ve had since you were a child and you were proving to your father you could be an archer – turns out the arrow was much sharper than you could have imagined.
He brushes your hair to the side and exposes a small, curled thing behind your ear – earned from a fight with a hawk that had broken its wing. Your father shot it, cooked it, and you knew that was the poor animal’s fate. Nonetheless, you stepped too close and scared the thing to pieces.
He bites at the one on your shoulder – the one you got when you were nicked by a sharpened stick on a trail ride. You were young and dumb as the stick was long and pointed. Ma says the only thing that kept you alive for the duration of the ride back was pure spite and adrenaline, a similar concoction to what flows through your veins now.
If you were a different woman, a woman with a strong will and even stronger arms, you’d push him away and repent for a chance at the old life you had planned for yourself. You’d throw him out of your house and fall to your knees and pray until your family found you there – lips and pads of your knees bleeding. You’d force him back onto the horse he rode in on and fall into hysterics until he left you by your lonesome to deal with this (whatever this may be) by yourself. You’d push him off and remind him you’re not what he wants – that you’re more than a cheap lay. (Of course, you’d let him in eventually – if he pushed and prodded at you hard enough. You’d let him mount you like he is now…just maybe after a ring and a dress and him knowing that you’re going to be with him until the end of time.)
Unfortunately, you are not that woman. You are weak, lost to the pleasure of him slamming in and out of you so hard you’re sure he’s leaving bruises on your inner thighs, ones that will last for days; lost to the feeling of his rough, wet thumb pressing at the crest of your center and making you wail. You’re absolutely drowning in it, and you have no intention of fighting to find land.
“Jesus fuck,” he hisses as you clench around him (an act you will play coy about when he asks you later, but do not comment on now). “This pussy is mine until the end of days, you get that? Do you understand me? I’m never giving you up.”
You groan out, unable to form something silly as speech. Like before, he grabs your face with the unoccupied big, calloused hand and forces your hooded eyes to meet his dilated pupils. Unlike before, tears stain your face. You’ve wept this hard before – when your favorite heifer died, when you realized your sister were so much prettier than you, when you got pecked in the side by a temperamental, murderous chicken. You’ve never, though, ever screeched and caterwauled and literally wept from pleasure.
(Your lips feel dryer by the second. You have a sneaking suspicious as to why.)
“Tell me whose pussy this is,” Thor snarls. His words are punctuated with thrusts, each one deeper and harder than the last. Surely you won’t walk away from this unharmed. No human was built to withstand such forces, to withstand this man. You feel like a poorly-built prairie house during tornado season - threatening to be reduced to bits any second. “Tell me who owns this beautiful pussy of yours.”
“Ah!” you scream so loud you’re sure the angels can hear you.  “Oh, God Thor, this pussy is yours.”
You can feel his wicked, satisfied smile against your shoulder, his teeth scraping at the skin there. “Say it again,” he tells you, so quiet you barely hear. Like some test or a prayer or a demand. “I want to hear it again.”
(In truth, he wants to hear you say it forever – but once more, for now, will do.)
The spool of thick thread weaves itself tighter and tights inside of you, and when you go to grab at the bedsheets once more you can hear the familiar sound of cotton sheets, ripping. “My pussy is yours, Thor!”
It’s then that the reel collapses in on itself – like the universe in the beginning. Is there a set of planets springing to life inside of you? Is the white-hot you see as you gasp for air a second set of heavens being born? You understand the Book so much better now, now understand why He had to rest; you feel as if you could sleep for a million years when you finally spiral down to Earth.
Thor, obviously, does not feel the same way. He does not pull from you, does not leave you lying motionless, heaving, desperate for cool air in your lungs and on your skin. Rather, he laughs – deep and pitted in his chest.
The bastard.
“You’re gorgeous,” he says between kisses laid upon your jaw. They’re hot, heavy, hard – sometimes you can feel his teeth scrape there. You wonder if he means to mark you so – determined to make an example of you and have you choose the dangerous fate of either parading around or shutting yourself in; or does he does this with no thought at all, barges into isolated women’s homes and shows them the greatest gratification known to man or God. “Has anyone ever told you that?”
You bear your teeth when he pulls back and meets your eyes again. It takes all your minimal willpower not to moan again, given that he hasn’t stopped fucking in and out of you. “Has anyone ever told you they wanted to punch you in the fucking face?”
He laughs again, same as before. “You’ve got a dirty mouth for such a clean woman,” he smirks as he pulls from you and flips you over with ease (your heart flutters – literally flutters, when your chest hits the sheets), knees bracketing you in. “Or, can I call you that no longer?”
Before you can snap back with a retort, he’s got you pulled to your knees by your hair – the follicles bunched in his large fist. You gasp loudly – the searing, sharp pain traveling up the backs of your legs, your spine, your scalp. It hurts, but it also feels so good.
Thor ignores you.
You remain there, tucked into Thor as he ravages you. One arm keeps you upright and tight against his muscular chest, slung across your stomach and tucked into your side so he can feel each bated breath – the other makes quick, small circles over the most sensitive part of you.
“Scream for me,” he whispers into your ear. “Let the whole world hear how good I make you feel.”
You follow his bellowed command, choked whimpers now shouts and cries and shrieks. In any other moment in any other time you’d be embarrassed, like before when you’d cover your mouth to stifle the sounds so no one could hear. Now, though, with no shawl or nighttime or cloak or hand to conceal you from the man you can’t look in the eyes.  
The hand around your stomach moves to the wall in front of you for balance, and you can feel his hot breath as his jaw hangs open.
You’re too far gone, now, to notice him grabbing at your hair again and pressing your cheek into the sheets. You scream each him his hips meet yours, his moans nearly as loud as yours.
“You feel so good,” he groans. “God, you’re so wet. Oh shit!”
He pulls out, blessedly, finishing himself with his hand while the other presses into your lower back. It keeps you there, floating in and out of consciousness but staying near-lifeless on the bed. The shirt he was wearing before – you recognize it from the column of buttons – cleans you off, the thick cotton soothing against your skin.
It’s not long before Thor joins you on the bed, collapsing from exhaustion just as you have. It’s hours before you wake up again, the pitch blackness outside meaning there’s nothing to distract yourself from the reality of the state of your life.
If your world hadn’t been shattered before, you are currently watching it go down in flames. You’ve never seen a barn being burned to the ground, but if you were stuck inside, it’d probably feel like this – you’d probably also be clutching the quilt that’s been haphazardly thrown over you but not Thor, grasping at the sun-bleached fabric as it will save you from destruction.
“Fuck,” you whisper to the ceiling and no one in particular. You still avoid looking at that damned portrait, keeping its aged frame in your periphery. You treat the man currently invading your precious personal space the same way.
Thor laughs next to you, deep in his chest. If you didn’t want to hit him then… “Should I be offended?”
You sigh, still avoiding his gaze. You can feel it burning into you like the sun on a bare back in the middle of July – you fear, if he looks at you too long, that you’ll be burned with his mark for the rest of time. You pull the quilt closer to you, hugging it to your body. “Not everything is about you.”
“I’d agree. Maybe not everything, but this,” Thor taps a few times between your eyebrows where your forehead has wrinkled. “Definitely is.”
He’s confident, so frustratingly confident and radiant and if your life wasn’t falling apart you would fuck him again – without hesitation. If you weren’t reconstructing a path you had mapped the day you understood what “future” meant for you, you’d force him down on the bed and do what you thought your wedding night would look like. It’s overwhelming, to say the least, to realize that you have been dethroned of the future you’d thought, you’d assumed you’d have.
You’re not a geographer, a cartographer, a topographer; you’re just a woman. A very horny woman, who is currently undergoing a crisis.
Thor moves closer to you, wrapped one of his massive arms around your bare waist and shifts so that his massive body weighs you onto the bed and rests his chin on your shoulder. “Love, what are you so worried about? Someone like you shouldn’t have worries like that running through the pretty little head of yours.”
You scoff and roll your eyes. Where do you even begin with him? “What am I worried about? I don’t know, probably the fact that I have to marry you now,” you sigh, eyes screwed shut in hopes you’ll open to find yourself in another bed, in another home, in another life. “That’s pretty fucking terrifying.”
Thor laughs breathily – unfazed. “One, you’re very rude. Has anyone ever told you that? It’s no wonder your father treats you in such a way. It’s a mystery no one else treats you that way. Maybe I should treat you a lesson, huh? Should I treat you to be nicer to the people who treat you nice as I?” he trails off for a minute or two, eyeing you up and down. When you make no move towards him, he continues. “Two, why do you have to marry me?”
You ignore his insolence, attempting to stick to the matter at hand. You fear if you veer off topic for even a moment, he’ll use that opening to pin back onto the bed and then this will be delayed even worse than it currently is and then this conversation will have to happen with even more of a threat of your family coming home before you can handle this yourself and…What were you talking about again? Right. Roping this man into marriage. No big deal. “You just took my purity, of course I have to marry you.”
It’s Thor’s turn to scoff. “That’s not how the world works, baby.”
“It’s how my world works, baby,” You bite back. If you were a snake, you’re sure the last word would’ve been coupled with the spraying of poison all over your companion’s skin. Knowing Thor, though, he’d walk away healthier than ever despite two precise puncture wounds.
There’s a long pause before he speaks again, the smile that plays on his lips coloring his words as well. “Oh, really? Why can’t I just walk out of here and pretend none of this ever happened? Why can’t I move onto the next woman, and the next woman, and the next woman. You think I can’t just find a thousand other yous to fill my bed, huh? Why do you think you’re so special?”
You’re sitting up now, covering yourself as Thor lays there bare. He reminds you of a barn cat in the sun, eyes closed and muscles relaxed and tail flicking lazily; if you touched him, you bet his skin would be warmed – if you scratched behind his ears or under his chin, you bet he’d purr. Unlike your barn cat, though, you refuse to leave him be as he enjoys his leisure.  “Why do you think I’d just let you leave? Why do you think you can find another woman, let alone a thousand women even close to me? Sure, leave if you want to, but don’t think you won’t be crawling back to me the second you try and find me in someone who ain’t me. Nuh-uh, you’ll find yourself here, in the dirt, at my feet.”
There’s a long, thick silence that settles over the both of you as Thor sits up, too. His face is playful, but still look in your eyes for any ounce of insincerity. He finds none. “You’re a little spitfire, you know that? Feral little thing, you are.”
You leave the bed, wrapping yourself in a robe you find rumbled under the bed. You don’t know if it’s to protect yourself from the immodesty of walking around naked as the day you were born, or if you’re hoping covering up to prove to Thor you’re not just some hussy. As if whatever in Hell just went down doesn’t disprove whatever notions of modesty you’re hoping to project. Either way, it busies your hands and keeps your eyes from him. “Of course.” You don’t speak again until you’re at the doorway, back facing him with head turned to the side just so. Who’s the cat now? “Do you?”
You walk away after that, leaving to find food or water or maybe a gun. Thor neither knows nor cares. Either way, he allows his body to fall back onto the bed with a thud and listens to your footsteps padding on the floor. Once you’re out of earshot, he sighs deep and happy.  “I sure do, babygirl. I sure do.”
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frywen-bumbles · 4 years ago
Text
The Way to a Man’s Heart Goes Through His... Cat? Ch4
AO3
"Why do you seem so gloomy, I thought your thesis was going well?" Essi asks him.
"It's about cat daddy, isn't it?" Pricilla asks and drowns her second glass of wine.
"No! No, of course not. Roach got the zoomies at four am and I couldn't fall asleep afterwards." Jaskier lies. Well, technically it isn't a lie. Roach did, in fact, get zoomies in the middle of the night but his gloominess has nothing to do with being tired.
"Trouble in paradise then?" Pricilla winks at him.
"There is no paradise!" Jaskier cries out and throws his hands in the air in frustration. Friends, he laments. Can't live with them and can't live without them.
"So it is about cat daddy," Essi concludes and pats his hand. "I'm sorry for teasing you. Please tell us what is it?"
"I... I don't know?" It's definitely the alcohol talking, Jaskier decides as he sinks further into the couch he has spent countless of nights sleeping in. No way he would talk about his stupid crush sober. "I keep thinking about him and dreaming about him and I haven't even talked to him in person!"
"I'm sure you're not the only person who has managed to develop a massive crush on someone over texts." Pricilla tries to comfort him but the huge grin on her face diminishes the effect.
"I do not have a crush," Jaskier says, like the liar he is.
"Liar, liar, pants on fire!" Essi sings and laughs.
"What are you, five?" Jaskier scoffs.
"Yes, that's exactly how old I am."
"You're impossible. Both of you!" Jaskier points at his best friends in mock offence, trying not to laugh.
"And yet, you still love us!" Pricilla winks at him. Jaskier rolls his eyes.
"I will love you if you pour me another glass of that wine and stop talking." Jaskier waves his empty glass at Pricilla, who fills it with all the possible flourish of an experienced bartender.
"You know she won't shut up," Essi says and waves her glass at Pricilla as well. "Although, I might shut up if you play me something?" she gives him a sweet smile and he groans, throwing his head back.
"Please, Essi... You know I haven't had time to practice in forever..."
"So this is an as good time as any to pick up your guitar again," Pricilla says and hops up from her chair, only slightly wobbly on her feet. "Oh, shit, I think all of the bubbles went straight into my head as soon as I stood up!" she giggles and disappears into a walk-in closet.
"Are you sure that closet doesn't lead straight into Narnia?" Jaskier grumbles without any heat as he hears Pricilla dig around. He's well aware the closet is as full as it is because it's mostly filled with his stuff.
"Oh, imagine all of the storage we had if it did..." Essi sighs wistfully and drains the rest of her glass. "Oh!" she exclaims and sits up straight, "Do you think sorcerers have portals in their closets? Can you imagine how neat that would be?!"
"Oooh, that's why the bastards can afford to live in such fancy places, they can have an apartment the size of a broom closet and store all of their stuff elsewhere!" Priscilla says as she emerges from the closet carrying a slightly battered guitar case.
Jaskier takes the guitar out and tunes it carefully, taking a sip of wine every now and then.
Pricilla and Essi make themselves busy getting more snacks and wine out of their kitchen while waiting for him but he hardly notices their hushed whispers and giggles. The guitar feels so familiar in his hands as he runs his fingers along the varnished wood.
 "When you get older, plainer, saner Will you remember all the danger We came from? Burning like embers, falling, tender Longing for the days of no surrender Years ago And will you know
 So smoke 'em if you got 'em Cause it's going down All I ever wanted was you I'll never get to heaven Cause I don't know how
 Let's raise a glass Or two To all the things I've lost on you Ho, ooh Tell me are they lost on you? Ooh, oh..."
It's only 8 PM, Jaskier laments as he heads back home, definitely too much cheap bubbly wine in his system.
But it was good, spending some time with his friends. To have a chance to talk about everything and just relax without any pressure to write or be productive.
Jaskier opens the door only to find Roach right behind it, screaming at him as soon as she gets a sight of him. Jaskier barely manages to step inside before Roach is running to the kitchen, screaming all the while expecting him to follow.
"I'm not that fast, Roach!" Jaskier shouts after the cat, struggling to get his shoes off when everything in his vision seems to wave quite a bit, his steps still unsteady despite the walk back.
Roach runs back to him and screams, vibrating her tail impatiently and runs back towards the kitchen, stopping to wait for him in the doorway.  
"I'm coming, Roach, you'll get your dinner, fuck..." Jaskier stumbles on his shoes and gets an unimpressed look from Roach, "it's not even that late, I never give you dinner this ea- fuck!" He steps on a cat toy and has to take support from the wall.
Roach screams at him again and runs to the kitchen.
"You're going to kill me, you know? Leaving your toys lying around like that..." Jaskier grumbles but follows the cat to the kitchen and digs food for her.
Roach meows and thrills and vibrates her tail stretches against his leg, digging her nails through his jeans into his thigh.
"Ow, ow, ow! Roach! I promise you will not starve to death in thirty seconds, ow!"
Roach doesn't spare him another glance as soon as the food is in front of her.
Nor does she after she has eaten despite her normal insistence of following him everywhere.
One additional drink (one he's sure to regret come morning) Roach is still ignoring him, sitting on the kitchen window with her back on him when usually she sits at the backrest of the sofa or on the cat tree staring at him. Or she sits looking at the door, still visible from the living room, occasionally meowing pitifully.
But today she bristles and runs away from him as soon as he tries to approach, making offended mews.
Jaskier endures being ignored. For an hour (and a few more drinks).
"Roach is angry with me!" Jaskier wails at the phone, "She doesn't even acknowl... ackl... pay attention to me! Whatever shall I do? She's been ignoring me since I got home, I can't take this, I have failed! I'm a hor- horbible... horrible cat sitter. She will never forgive me... it wasn't even her dinner time yet, you know? And still, I'm slighted so terribly! This is a tragedy!"
"Hmm," a deep rumble from the other end of the line makes Jaskier's thoughts come to a screeching halt and he's quite certain he squeaks in shock. "Roach will forgive you in a couple of days."
"Okay, yeah, that's... that's good?" Jaskier says feeling suddenly much more sober than the moment before.
"Just don't do it again tomorrow and you'll be fine," the deep voice rumbles again.
Jaskier is sure he will die.
Of embarrassment or something else, he's not sure. But he. will. die.
"I won't, I promise," Jaskier agrees, probably too fast but he doesn't care. Anything to make the gorgeous man on the other end of the phone to keep talking to him.
"Hmm... she'll sulk in somewhere for tonight. Don't worry about it, she'll be back to pester you first thing in the morning."
Jaskier laughs despite himself. Or maybe it's the alcohol.
"She's not pestering me, she's just very enthusiastic about getting her food on time."
"That she is." The man falls silent for a moment too long for Jaskier to itch to start to babble some nonsense before he continues, "I hope she hasn't caused too much trouble for you. Or tried to bring dead birds inside to eat."
"What? No! Also eww thank the gods not." Jaskier cringes at the mental image of dead birds inside the house.
"That's good. She eats most of them in the yard."
"Okay, I did not need to know that, the cat sleeps in the same bed with me and now you're telling me she eats birds outside? Double eww."
The man has the audacity to laugh. Laugh!
But Jaskier isn't going to complain, he has never heard something as delightful as the deep laugh from the other end of the line.
He wants to hear it again.
And again.
"Um... any other useful tips to please the great beast?"
"Hmm... she likes to be scratched under the chin and behind the ears. But don't touch the base of her tail or she will bite you."
"Duly noted."
"Hmm... Don't feed her too many treats, you'll make her fuzzy."
"I would never- Fiona rattled on me, didn't she?" Jaskier sighs.
The line turns quiet.
"H-hello?" Jaskier looks at his phone but the line hasn't disconnected.
"...You talked with Fiona?"
"She, uh, she texted me first? I've been helping her with her homework?" Jaskier babbles before his brain supplies him with the most important information, "Wait! She told me you gave her permission! Melitele's sake I would have never talked to her if I knew she was doing it behind your back I promise I have no ill intentions I've just helped her with school stuff I swear!"
"Hmm..." a grunt is the only sound Jaskier hears from the other end of the line. He holds his breath. If all comes to worst, he'll be out of work and out of the house tomorrow.
"I'll talk to her. Thank you for helping her with her school, I'm... none of us is very good with that stuff. I guess she needed more help than I realised."
"Oh!" Jaskier tries to contain his surprise but he's not very successful, "No, you shouldn't thank me! Fiona has been nothing but the best student, she's very bright!"
"She is." There is another break at the end of the line and Jaskier is ready to lose his shit. "I'll talk to her about lying. You should sleep the alcohol off."
"I'm not drunk!" Jaskier exclaims offended and earns a laugh from cat dad.
"You're wasted, I can hear it even on phone. Go to sleep, Julian."
"Um... right. I'll... I'll go to sleep, and and try not to get smothered to death by an angry cat," he stammers embarrassed. Hearing his name in that low gravel shouldn't make his heart feel like it'll burst out of his chest. "G-good night, Geralt."
"Good night, Julian."
He will die. He will surely die, of embarrassment or happiness or Roach deciding it's finally time to sleep on his face the whole night, he doesn't know. But he will surely die.
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