#i have terrible taste in what to fixate on lol

[deadmeatfactory]

some fnf stuff bleeeggh

[szkunas]

WANNA BET? ౨ৎㅤ suguru geto.

synopsis / premise ♱ㅤ when a lustful spirit comes across suguru geto’s path, the curse user must sacrifice his pride and dignity for a chance to obtain its power. but you won’t make it easy for him, will you?

featuring ♱ㅤ cursed spirit!FEM!reader X suguru geto (2017 / jjk 0 ver.)

warnings ♱ㅤ NSFW ♡︎ ㅤ spectrophilia ! monsterfucking (?) ! DEATH (not on any of them) + BLOOD ! EATING HUMAN FLESH (not cannibalism!) ! dub-con (both consent, but it involves a dangerous bet, so just to stay safe) ! sub and dom dynamics constantly changing (both switchers) but reader is usually domming ! unprotected sex + unrealistic portraits of sex ! creampie ! power dynamics ! rough sex / “hate” sex ! degradation + praise ! WORD COUNT: 4990.

author’s note ♱ㅤthank you for everyone who's enjoying and supporting my work! i love you all and i hope you like this piece as well. this is inspired by the poll i made a long while ago. the people asked, and they shall have it! despite it not being yandere character, be sure the next fics will fix that! <3

p.s — i write smut very rarely. i feel it's a little bland and ill probably avoid writing it for a little while lol. despite that, i hope you enjoy it nonetheless

BETTING WITH CURSES is always a dangerous ── not to say stupid ── idea. their conceptions are more violent and sadistic than those of humans, and they have little (or no) notion of mortality. they revel in the gushing blood, the failure, and the deadly despair that initially gave rise to them. therefore, it is uncommon for even the most experienced curse users to engage in this type of activity. but geto doesn’t know the meaning of fear. it became unfamiliar to him, like he always wished. curses are just the accumulated filth of non-sorcerers. and a god fears neither the insects beneath him nor the remains they produce.

the cult provides a good amount of spirits, with that rotten taste that is impossible to disguise. no matter how much spice or food is eaten afterward, it is always terrible, but today it goes down his throat much more easily. as much as it’s a good facade, gathering followers and getting a good reserve of curses to form the night parade of a hundred demons, it’s not enough.

all the spirits he consumes recently are mediocre grade 4s. sometimes a grade 3, or if he is extremely lucky, a grade 2. but it has become a rare occasion, and the spirits of non-sorcerers are as weak as their mediocre progenitors.

he doesn’t have enough, and if things go this way, he will have more of an amalgamation of weak and useless spirits than spirits strong enough to distract the sorcerers and help him fight his true goal. therefore, his free days, when not spent with his daughters and his fixation on crêpes, are used to hunt cursed spirits. usually, his followers help with this. the loyal sorcerers see each other as family, and are willing to work for the new world as much as he does. it doesn’t matter how much blood or sweat it takes, it doesn’t matter if he’s not alive to see it all, after all. no more being oppressed by insects. the true species must rise, and the time is coming.

patience, he tells himself. but haste is a curse of its own that affects every man at some point in his existence, making him lose himself in his tasks and concentrations. as he reclines on himself in what could be called the throne room, suguru watches as some of his fellow sorcerer help one of their own. he quickly approaches the confusion.

a woman with a flushed face and heavy breathing, one hand on her chest as if she was about to have a heart attack. sweat pours off her in a rush, as if her body is burning from the inside out. it’s rare that they don’t come back with even one spirit (as mediocre as it is, a curse is a curse, and he can’t afford to be selective at this point). then, suguru frowns. part of him genuinely cares, in a way he never could, if this woman didn’t have a technique.

“what’s the matter? i thought you were going after the spirit near shinjuku.”

“we were.” one of them answers. “but that thing is a beast. you can’t get close without feeling completely lost and attracted. it’s like a fog that enters your nose and mouth and consumes you from the inside. we nearly died. we can’t handle that, master geto. we apologize.”

he sighs, looking over at the poor woman. there’s something visibly wrong with her right now. her heart seems shaken by a powerful force, and this makes geto think that he shouldn’t underestimate this curse in question.

she looks around and practically latches onto any man she can see — even kissing a guy’s neck while he blushes and gently pulls her away. is it some kind of spirit that manipulates attraction? this is particularly dangerous for him. even though he is, well, him, suguru is still a man. the flesh is weak, and perhaps this curse will become a huge headache to deal with.

however, it could become one of his best weapons.

if a spirit like this keeps causing problems in kyoto, he will have more time to do what needs to be done in tokyo. he can already think about it — whatever form this spirit has, having sorcerers under their thumb. crushing their heads and buying him precious seconds to take care of his business. he can only imagine how the poor sorcerers will react, attracted to a beast.

“don’t worry about that anymore.” he assures the cult members, which turn their heads to him. their leader, their god. the one who’s going to make them rise to a new world. his voice is filled with the grace and confidence he usually has on his tone. but also something else.

determination. raw and pure.

“i will deal with the cursed spirit in shinjuku myself. please watch over mimiko and nanako while i’m gone. i will need just a few hours.”

while humans are extremely annoying, they have their uses. somehow. spirits like you, of thunderous strength, also have thunderous desires. technically, curses don’t need to eat, sleep, or reproduce like humans do. your existence and body made of pure cursed energy coursing through your veins transcends the need for these chores. but like everything that is unnecessary, it is not necessarily impossible. that’s why, as a curse, you know how to use what you have to attract victims. legends about women who attract men with their beauty and turn on them like vipers are very common. the idea of comfort turning to horror ── resting in the arms of a beautiful goddess only to discover that she is a beast shaped like a beauty ── is something that has generated many curses. just like you.

your long tongue curls around your fingertips, trying to absorb the blood that rests there. the body of the last unlucky person who came to try to get you rests at the foot of the motel room bed. it’s not difficult to blend in with humans, and sorcerers come to you like bees looking for honey. while sucking the blood from your fingers, your eyes look up to the dim lamp in the room. the moths accumulate, beating against the light and surrounding it desperately. your body stands up and walks out of the room while arranging your kimono sloppily over your shoulders. if you turn off a light, the moths are lost, without hope. their lives are all about chasing dangerous things. they are attracted to the light of a flame, following this wonderful source of illumination without knowing that it will lead to their death. just as mortal men (and women) allow you to do.

the body stays behind, not that it’s important. the others can’t see you, which means all they know is that a man walked into a room alone, and died inside. eviscerated and devoured as if destroyed by a modern movie zombie. your steps guide you away from cheap construction, and that’s a relief. the reception smells like mold, and the employee is more focused on playing solitaire than looking at whoever enters. the cold night air hitting you would be a problem if your stomach wasn’t full and well refreshed with warm blood. and, at the entrance to the parking lot, a man approaches. so he can see you. it wouldn’t be the first time a young guy approached you, hungry for some. you try to hide the blood in your hands.

you devour the hearts of humans, just as they would like to devour you (in other senses). however, he looks… different from the usual men you see around. high energy levels, as well as clearly being a sorcerer. he doesn’t look very old, maybe in his late twenties. this means that he doesn’t have as much experience as older men, but he is no amateur at sorcery. just as you fill yourself with meat, he also consumes something. you can’t tell just by looking, and it’s as disturbing as it is interesting.

okay, you’re full. but there’s always room for another one. especially a looker like this.

“mm, hey, handsome.” you purr, smiling cutely as you rest your hand on your waist.

“spare me. i know what you are capable of and what you really want. i’m not going to be your next meal, curse.” he smirks, circling around you.

well, that’s a fascinating twist. it reminds you of how many sorcerers have said the exact same thing, and in the end it ended up just becoming your dinner. however, this man seems less— consumable than the rest, but no less attractive.

the idea of eating him saddens you, because then you would lose him forever. not being able to see that pretty face after you eat it out of spite… it would be tragic. but maybe there’s a way of having fun, while still getting something out of him.

you lick your lips at the thought.

okay, this could be the opportunity you’ve been waiting for. a tall, handsome man with a large amount of cursed energy? he’s the kind of guy you don’t let get away. after so many snacks, a careful look always captures a good and complete meal. but perhaps you can do much more than devour him. it’s the kind of chance every girl dreams of ── in your own twisted and sadistic way, of course.

“can i get your name, handsome? or do i have to keep on the petname basis?” you tease, smirking softly.

he walks around you like a shark circles tasty prey. this cat and mouse game would scare away any other curse, this sorcerer doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to play with, which makes the interest you have in him doubled. your eyes follow his every movement.

“and while we’re questioning each other, what do you want? a fight?”

“i’m suguru geto. and what i want is very simple.” he steps closer, but you don’t budge, instead raising your chin despite the attitude. that makes his eyes widen softly and suguru scoffs. was he expecting you to be intimidated? “you.”

okay, that answer itself is not unusual for you ── many others have said the same thing to answer the very same question ──, but the new dynamic and opportunity this man presents is. an idea blooms in your mind like a poisonous flower: beautiful, but lethal if touched. it doesn’t look dangerous, it looks attractive and vibrant, but it is. and you are about to apply this in the most intense way you can imagine. a new thing, a new idea.

and like every creature beyond mortality, routine is boring and boring is despising for you. new things are exciting, captivating. he’s interesting.

“why don’t we make a small bet, hm? geto.”

he raises one eyebrow, interested. “i’m listening. and, please. call me suguru.”

the motel isn’t a very suitable destination — apparently, it’s not proper to go to a place where a corpse is —, but an empty apartment that a cult sponsor bought for him will do. suguru and you walk around while pulling up casual conversation and flirtation. everything seems surprisingly chill. maybe in another life, you two could be friends. maybe even with benefits? or— perhaps something else.

he doesn’t think your personality is bad, per see, but again. you seduce and eat mortals easily. maybe you’re just tricking him into lowering his guard. maybe in another life, you’re a pretty little thing who hugs his arm and allows him to take you home with genuine, good intentions. maybe in another life, you could like him genuinely. and he could like you back.

but you two don’t live another life — only this one. so, he’ll settle.

you’re barely past the door and he feels your lips on his. he smirks, grabbing you by the hair to pull you closer. it’s supposed to be an easy tatic — seducing you. he can absorb curses of grades that are at least two lower than his, or… any curse that surrenders.

as your tongue swirls around his, suguru feels a shiver run down his spine. you taste so— unbelievably sweet. nothing like any other one he’s every tasted. the sound of kissing takes over the apartment as you stumble over your feet to the bed.

this might be harder than he initially thought.

the bet is simple, somewhat. you will compete in something, your choice. whoever wins has complete control of the loser. which means — he wins, you’ll become one of his curses. you win? he’s yours. forever. whatever that means, you made that clear. you both explained your expectations and what you wanted from the other, deciding for a biding vow.

the competition you chose was sex. basically, whoever cums first loses.

and for some reason, suguru feels like he shouldn’t lose. he’s not sure what you’ll do with him once “he’s yours”, but he feels like it wouldn’t be a very opportune time for him.

you move to kiss his cheek, jawline, and neck. suguru sighs while throwing his head back. “you’re— eager.” he murmurs with a soft hiss. “i’ve never been with something like you, so, forgive me if i’m shy.”

he can feel the way you smirk against his skin, before you start sucking down and biting. he grabs you by the hair to pull you away, relishing in your flushed expression and how your voice sounds when you yelp.

“no hickeys, no bites. i’m not yours to mark, curse.” his fingers wrap themselves around your hair tightly to get the message across. your tongue slips out, long and eagerly licking your lips as you watch him. like a lion watching a zebra, about to feast.

“yet.”

your answer just sets him off. and the way you smirk, that damned, arrogant smile that he intends to rip off your face as soon as you get into bed — adamant on being a goddamn brat. oh, you’re going to be a handful.

in a way, he likes it (although suguru prefers to bite down his tongue, rip it off and swallowing it before admitting anything to you). there are those who say that victory without effort is just a poorly deserved achievement.

dragging you by the hair, geto’s eyes are following your every movement as you stumble on your feet. you’re having fun with this, he can tell. something twitches on his chest, and — he can’t decide on anger or attraction as he gets rid of his clothes. why is his body so hot? you haven’t even done anything yet.

“keep your word if you lose, curse.” suguru mumurs, looking down at you while pushing you to bed and moving to be on top of you.

“could say the same, suguru. and don’t call me that.” you spread your legs slowly, smirking as he helps you undress. “i have a name, you know.”

the fun thing about men for you is how predictable they are. they keep denying it over and over — i don’t love you, i’m not a bad guy for cheating on my girlfriend, you’re nothing special — while they’re devouring you with their eyes. someone once said the eyes are the window to the soul. you believe that to be true — after all, no one has interest in a meal they cannot see first.

his desire is palpable in the way suguru’s hands rush, pushing away layers of fabric that’s keeping him from actually seeing you. it looks like he wants to rip the clothes off your body and see what’s underneath, because his heart needs to he. he needs it, he needs you.

the words rushing through his mind make him stop for a moment. what is this thought? he needs you… ? he breathes heavily as you grab his wrist and guide it to your chest. suguru can feel it under his fingers and palm.

the soft feeling of your skin is truly inhuman. it sparks something inside of him — he can’t remember a day where he wanted someone this much.

“you’re staring, suguru.” you tease.

“shut up.” he grits his teeth, moving down to cup your breasts, his thumbs caressing your nipples.

“you like this, don’t you? dirty whore.” geto murmurs, his hands snaking down and grabbing your hips harshly while leaning down, latching his lips to your nipple. his other hand massages your breast and pinches it, and the vibrations of his soft moans make your skin shiver.

he shouldn’t like this so much, he knows that. but the way you taste — it’s not fair. he’s rock-hard after some kissing, pinching, teasing. mere foreplay is making his cock twitch on his pants. the way you moan is divine, and your hand comes down to play with his hair as he sucks on your chest.

your legs wrap themselves around his waist, and he presses you down against the bed, hovering above you eagerly. the stupid buddhist robes he uses as a disguise are falling off his body, and all he wants to do is rip the fabric off and set it on fire because it prevents skin-to-skin contact. he bites down your nipple, and you moan, moving your hands to tug off his clothing.

“do you have condoms on you?” he asks, and you snort.

“no. i can’t be affected by mortal diseases. i don’t need those.”

suguru murmurs something against your skin, feeling himself grow addicted already. a small piece of his brain is already wishing you were his, but not to send you to battle — to get you sat on his lap all day, as he kisses and sucks on your chest. you tug at his hair, watching the black strands falling down his back gracefully as he moves to kiss down your underbust, then stomach. lower belly. his purple eyes look up at your face as his lips part. the cult leader’s hands caress your body as if yearning to memorize the flesh with each touch. here or there, he gently squeezes or pinches to see you squirm. they pass through his arms, shoulders, down his sides and finally meet under his thighs, guiding them to rest on his shoulders.

the first contact of his mouth with your pussy is messy. a bit lewd. generally, younger men like this like to act slow, a bit torturing, to be certain of what they’re doing (and mostly, they’re not). but suguru dives in as if your cunt is the last meal he’ll ever put his mouth on. his attention is mostly driven to your clit, and you gasp, playing with his hair and squeezing his head between your thighs with a smile.

he’s good. you’ve experienced sex mostly using it as a weapon — men in particular are more susceptible because they’re not expecting it, but women also don’t expect to be eviscerated while they’re pleasuring you. but sometimes, when you do enjoy sex for fun, you gained experience enough to tell this man between your legs knows what he’s doing. his hands move to grab your waist and keep you from running away as he kisses your clit. suguru’s tongue draw out and he moves is head up and down slowly, teasingly.

you enjoy the sensations, shiver trailing up your spine and the pleasure already pooling on your lower belly. your body relaxes slowly against the pillows, and you chuckle.

“mm, enjoying yourself down there?”

he doesn’t respond, instead humming against your cunt. the feeling causes your body to tingle, and your fingers curl around his strands (which tells suguru he’s doing something right). he’s finding out how heaven tastes.

you’re more determined than ever that he’s yours, and he can see it in your eyes. the fire in your eyes rivals the fire in both of your bodies.

the flavor is indescribable. geto is no amateur at sex, although he feels like one now. exposed, naked and excited, he feels about to lose the bet that will define his destiny. a lot of people have passed by his bed, and he’s already received a lot of compliments about what he can do with his mouth, but the feeling of all those people feels like a weak breeze compared to what he feels with your taste on his tongue. it is divine.

he’s never experienced anything like it, and the idea that sex could be this good makes him feel like he could do it for hours, every day, all day. it’s almost invigorating, energizing, when he experiences you. his hips move here and there, thrusting softly every now and then. the flushed tip of his cock oozes with pre, and he believes he never got so turned on before.

it’s like he’s a college kid, a desperate virgin trying out pussy for the first time. his arms move, hooking them around your thighs, trying to spread your legs as he sucks on your clit.

you tug at his hair again, hissing.

“not fair, jerk. we need to compete in a way both of us can lose. quit it.”

he would deny it, but denying it would make it obvious geto could cum untouched just from eating you out. he complies, leaning back, your juices making his lips and chin glisten under the room’s lights. “alright, curse.” you tug at his hair again, and he groans. “stop that.”

“you need to get used to it. i’ll do it all the time once you’re mine. i'm going to make you eat me out everyday, like the good boy i know you are.”

he moves up, kissing your stomach and between your breasts while looking up. “don’t claim victory before it’s time.” his voice murmurs, pressing his lips against yours and hugging your waist. “lay back.”

you smirk. “no.”

you grab his shoulders, using your unnatural strength to surprise suguru. changing the positions, you get him to be under you, throwing each of your legs to the sides of his body. his hands move to grab your waist, and his eyes narrow as he frowns.

such a handsome, tall man — even when he frowns. once he’s yours, you promise yourself, you have a lot of fun.

“what are you doing?” he hisses, moving to sit up. your palm lays against his chest, pushing him down again as you raise your hips to rub your wet cunt against him. “fuck, fuck— you slut, what are you doing?”

both of you moan softly at the contact, and you lift your body with spread legs and a smirk that tells him: you’re going all in to win this bet. this is worrying.

once you sink, slowly and surely, he throws his head back with his eyes narrowing. a groan escapes his lips, and his muscles clench. geto’s fingers curl around your waist, sinking his nails to your skin desperately, leaving small, red half-moon marks that heal immediately.

if heaven exists, this is what it feels like — his mind is sure of that. your pussy clenching around him, the pure warmth and tightness from your hole, it drives him insane, speechless. his eyes almost fill with water, and the urge to explode is immediate.

he gasps, holding you down and trying to breathe properly. the sew attempt proves futile, deadly and failed. it’s like the air can’t reach his lungs properly, and for a second he thinks he’s going to die in this pure bliss and smiles to himself. but the charm disappears when he remembers the bet. it was a very, very close call that he didn’t came as soon as he felt you around him.

the want awaken in his body is primal. dirty and impure, there’s no other word for it besides carnal. he wants to grab you and pin you down, thrust into you and cum inside until he dies from exhaustion. this power is — dangerous. it scares him and pleases him in equal measure, being under such a powerful spirit. suguru’s concentration is split, divided, and growing weaker as you speak again.

“what’s wrong, suguru? i can feel you twitch.” you giggle softly, leaning in over him.

your next move throws him off guard. the sadism and fire in your gaze makes him raise an eyebrow, and before he can react, his hips move. down and then up, just to slam back down. it knocks the air off his lungs, and he moans loudly.

“oh, god.”

“no, baby, it’s just me.” you chuckle, staring to set a pace as you lean back. “mmm, sugu. you feel really good, you know? so hard and nice to ride. and so good for me.”

instead of resting against his chest, your hands grab his knees. your stunning, divine body that makes his insides curl and melt is leaned back, exposed in all your glory, and he forgets you’re a curse for a moment. convinced you’re an angel, he grabs your hips to help you ride, thrusting up against your movements.

suguru smiles softly to himself as he hears your soft moans. the sounds is delicious, drowning every worry out of him. he only remembers you’re a curse two minutes seconds later, when your tongue slips out your mouth to lick your lips, as if you’re enjoying a meal.

he feels like an animal, capable of thinking about only one thing: copulating. having sex and reproduce and if he fails in the latter, have sex again until every drop of semen is squeezed out of his body.

he tenses up, groaning. god be kind, he has no idea how he managed to hold on for so long.

“what’s your deal?” another moan quickly scratches his throat, and the heat is almost becoming unbearable. pooling in his lower belly, making his abs and muscles clench as he grinds against you, desperate.

“what are you talking about?” you chuckle, leaning in again and moving your hands up to play with your nipples. slowly — both to tease him and to avoid you cum too early and lose. softly.

“stop— smirking like that. it pisses me off.”

you lean in, playing with a strand of his hair and tugging on it gently. suguru tries to sit up, but you throw him back down, not willing to guv up your advantage. he’s close. you can feel it, see it, you can enjoy the way the head of his cock hits your g-spot sweetly.

the only surprise you feel is when a hand that’s not your creeps and settles between your legs. his thumb moves in small, fast circles against your clit, earning a moan out of you and making your chest inflate as you breathe in heavily.

there was a chance you might lose. if you weren’t you, you might’ve lost.

you pick up your pace, and his heavy breathing mix to yours. it’s fun, you think, you only breathe as heavily as mortals when you’re engaging on sex. it’s cute, it makes them think you’re like them. human. weak-willed, like the man twitching inside of you, urging for release.

but you can’t blame him. his touch drives you insane, you light up like a keg of gunpowder being ignited by flames. he needs to explode. he needs to. you’re settled by that.

suguru starts grunting, his thrusts into your warm, inviting cunt growing more eager and erratic. he thumbs at your clit, looking up at your expression. you smile, moaning his name lewdly.

“suguru.”

and— he feels it. rising so quickly his body has no reaction against it. his orgasm is hard, harder than he ever had it with any warm body or his desperate hand, alone on a corner. he sighs, pausing in between breaths to groan and moan. his eyes close, and his browns furrow up as he stares at the ceiling, gasping softly. his abs clench, he grunts

perhaps this is the true feeling of nirvana, of ascending. suguru believed he and the other sorcerers were true gods walking among earth. that sorcery was the only and true path to the ascension of humanity as a species and as individuals. but this? the feeling of thrusting his cum into your warm, wet velvety walls is the closest he ever felt to a god.

he breathes heavily, scratching your hips as reaction to pain — the overstimulation is hitting him as hard as a truck when you don’t stop moving your hips, eager for your own orgasm as you notice your victory. he grunts again, watching you fall apart on his cock as your turn finally arrives.

riding off your high, you enjoy yourself using him as a toy and personal dildo, you stop slowly to get off him. some of his cum spills out your cunt, fat drops falling to his abdomen.

suguru’s breathing calms down slowly, but his eyes widen in realization. he uses his elbows to prop himself and sit up, murmuring — his voice weakened and a bit desperate. a hint of fear creeps into his tone.

“wait. no, wait.”

you grab him by the neck, and he hesitates, looking up at you. his skin burns and a sinister chill runs through his body while his arms seem to be on fire, next to his neck. stunned by the intensity of his orgasm and what it means, he doesn’t even act while you help him rest his head against your chest. suguru stares at himself, shaking as he notices new marks on his forearms.

black, strong and serpentine, these marks against the skin form quickly, marking him now and forever. like tattoos he can never remove. he looks up, and you twirl a strand of his black hair around your index finger.

“you lost, suguru.” your voice coos sweetly, as if you pity him. but you don’t. you don’t have that mercy on you. “and you know what that means?”

you giggle, and he shivers again as he feels your lips gluing to his ear. you murmur lovingly, as if you’re not deciding his fate.

“you’re mine.”

thank you for reading <3

[kiss-me-cill-me]

Gravity Wins

Pairing: Robert Capa x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: The walls around here are too thin, and Capa can't seem to mind his own business.

Warnings: Smut, changes to several minor aspects of canon, alcohol/drinking (not related to the smut), mentions of vibrators, sexual frustration, masturbation (f), slight voyeurism, teasing, biting, quiet sex, and my obvious fixation on Capa's arms

A/N: In the words of Jayne Cobb... I'll be in my bunk. This was the winner of my "Bad Summary WIPs" poll. I had originally intended for "Gravity Wins" to be a working title that I would change later, but uh, it did win, so I'm keeping it lol. Happy Capa Month! 🥰

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Life aboard Icarus II had its charms. The views were unlike anything else; the oxygen garden was truly breathtaking; and the ship itself was pleasantly quaint, in a close-knit kind of way. Most of the time, at least. Sometimes, that same pleasant quaintness had a habit of dissolving into claustrophobia; the tight quarters and lack of privacy suddenly surrounding you on all sides. 

That’s why it was important to find small moments of joy where you could, to pass the time. And that’s why you were currently in the canteen, with Cassie and Corazon squeezed in on either side of you, passing around a bottle of contraband vodka. 

It was cheap stuff; strawberry flavored. Not necessarily what you would have picked to drink, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and Cassie - god love her - had always had terrible taste in booze. Still, it got the job done. And getting to spend a night gossiping and getting a little tipsy every once in a while was just enough to break up the daily routine and keep the three of you from going mad.

Only three months into the mission, and your one bottle was already two-thirds empty. It was going to be a long flight.

“Y’know what I miss?” Cassie sighed, shoulders loose as she passed the bottle over to you. “Pizza.”

You took a swig - the cheap, artificial taste of fruit mixing terribly with the burn of alcohol - and passed the bottle on. Corazon slouched forward on the table.

“Don’t talk about food, Cassie. Please,” she whined. 

It wasn’t as if you were starving, but the bare-bones, monotonous rotation of meals you all ate while onboard the ship left a lot to be desired. You could feel your mouth watering just at the thought of something besides the same old efficient, nutritionally-dense meals you’d been eating for weeks now.

“I miss ice cream,” you jumped in.

Corazon groaned and took a sip of the vodka, rubbing her head.

“Enough already,” she begged.

“Fine then, Cora - what do you miss?” asked Cassie, reaching across your little circle to take the bottle back. She tipped it against her lips, taking a quick sip.

“My vibrator,” answered the biologist.

You and Cassie burst into laughter; high-pitched giggles bouncing off the walls of the cramped space. 

“I’m serious,” laughed Cora, nudging your shoulder.

“Oh, I believe you - I miss mine, too,” Cassie admitted. 

You hummed in agreement. It was a long journey, and until you’d stepped foot on the ship, you really hadn’t anticipated all the small comforts of home you would miss. If getting off could be considered a comfort.

“Here’s the real question though,” said Cassie, pointing the bottle at each of you in turn. “Would you fuck any of the guys?”

“On the ship?” you asked.

“You see any other guys around?” Cassie laughed. 

You joined her, feeling the hot flush of alcohol rise on your cheeks.

“What about Mace?” Cora offered.

“Too angry.” Cassie scrunched her nose.

“Sure, he’s hot-headed - but with guys, sometimes that means he’s a good fuck.”

Another round of laughter echoed after Corazon’s remark.

“Harvey?” you suggested, narrowing your eyes. Watching to see if either of the other women’s faces betrayed a genuine reaction.

“Kind of stuck-up,” Cora commented.

The group agreed, and lapsed into silence. The bottle made another round, and you felt yourself starting to tip past the point of a slight buzz.

“How ‘bout Capa?” Cassie asked.

“Maybe if he wasn’t such a dick,” Cora scoffed.

You snorted, then scrambled to control your expression.

“I think he’s kinda hot,” Cassie ventured.

A chorus of oooohs made their way around the table; Cassie waving them off.

“But I wouldn’t sleep with him,” she insisted. “Seems like the kind of guy to make himself come and then roll over.”

Corazon laughed sharply and then turned to face you.

“What about you, huh?” she asked, voice lowering. “Would you let Capa teach you all about physics and where he can stick ‘em?”

Before you had a chance to tease Cora about being so buzzed that she couldn’t even come up with a half-sensical sex joke about physics, the party was broken up by the arrival of a fourth person. Speak of the devil himself.

Capa glanced over at the three of you as he walked in, pausing to quietly open a cupboard and pull something out. Cora ignored him. Cassie took a swig of the vodka. And you quickly averted your eyes, looking down at your lap as your face burned.

“What are you all giggling about?” Capa droned.

“Nothing,” Cora snapped, a little harsher than was necessary.

Capa’s eyes narrowed, landing on the vodka. There was a moment of rigid silence.

“You know there’d be trouble if the captain found out about that,” he commented.

It wasn’t exactly a threat, but it wasn’t exactly a harmless observation either. Cassie stood up and slouched over to him, pressing the bottle against his chest. You were watching out of the corner of your eye, still too embarrassed to meet anyone’s gaze.

“But you wouldn’t tell on us - right, Capa?” Cassie asked sweetly. 

She was a little too drunk for her own good, and you felt a quick bolt of tension in your stomach. Capa gave each of you a questioning look, impossible to tell what he was thinking as he backed off and walked out the way he’d come in.

“Just keep it down in here,” he muttered.

Once he was out of earshot, Cassie sat down, and the three of you shared a shy laugh of relief. Corazon instantly broke the tension.

“See? What’d I say? He’s a dick.”

The next morning, you woke up groggier than you should have. After Capa’s interruption, the vodka bottle was quickly put away, hidden in Cassie’s bunk for another night. You hadn’t really had too much to drink, but the minor shame of getting caught mixed with the shitty vodka was enough to make you feel thrown off.

You shuffled out of bed, slipping into a pair of sandals after pulling on your pants. You shrugged into a shirt and ran a tired hand over your face.

On your way to the bathroom, Harvey stopped you. You only had the energy to listen to about half of what he was saying, still feeling grumpy and with a sour taste in your mouth. He was talking to you about some report; asking why it hadn’t been submitted in triplicate. You clenched your jaw, really not having the patience to deal with him right now.

You promised Harvey you’d re-file your report, and walked away before he could rope you into any more conversation. Cora’s assessment of him was accurate, you thought. Stuck-up.

As you walked, your thoughts wandered back to how the night had ended. Or, more accurately, to what had happened just before you’d been interrupted by the very topic of your conversation. Capa. You had been about to open your mouth to answer Cora’s question about him… or, not answer. You had actually been planning to make a joke and shift the attention away from yourself, specifically so that you wouldn’t have to give a straight yes or no. Because, of course, you didn’t want either of the other girls to know-

“Hey, wait up!” 

A voice behind you caused you to jump. You turned to see Cassie, already catching up behind you, oddly chipper considering that she’d been the one drinking more of the vodka than anybody last night.

“Hey, Cas.”

She fell into step beside you, easily keeping up with your sluggish pace. You tried to straighten up and match her energy, but it was hard to when all you wanted to do was crawl back in bed.

“Harvey just stopped me in the hallway,” Cassie told you. “Said something about getting you to file a report? I just wanted to warn you; he seemed pissed.”

Great - now Harvey was sending your friends after you.

“Yeah, we already talked about it,” you muttered. 

“You okay?” Cassie asked. “You look miserable.”

You felt miserable. And not just because of last night. For the past few weeks, you’d felt off. Moody. Unfocused. You'd been trying to push through it, but you felt yourself losing ground, and you were frustrated. 

It was partly to be expected - at least according to Searle, the ship’s de facto therapist, who you had talked to about your problems a few days ago. Space travel was taxing on the body, and sometimes doubly so on the mind. You felt cooped up, and getting mildly drunk with Cassie and Corazon only provided a temporary distraction.

“Cabin fever?” Cassie guessed.

“Something like that,” you agreed.

Cassie sighed. “Cora was right. We all really need to get laid.”

“Cassie!” 

You hissed her name, spinning around to check that no one was behind you eavesdropping. The last thing you needed was a repeat of last night.

“Relax - I’m not saying I’ll fuck you, so don’t get all excited,” Cassie joked. “But she is right. It gets to you, after a while.”

It certainly did, and you could attest to that fact. Last night it had seemed almost funny; giggling with your friends over missing your vibrators. But the truth was, three long months into your journey, you were already starting to go stir crazy from a life of near-celibacy.

“Maybe you just need to blow off some steam.” Cassie prodded, not letting up.

“Cas, no offense, but can we not discuss my sex life until I've been awake for at least twenty minutes?”

“What sex life?” Cassie laughed, a little too loudly, and you hurried to shush her again. “I'll shut up,” she promised, continuing on, “but all I'm saying is you look like you could use it.”

With one more conspiratorial giggle, she left, walking ahead of you down the bright hallway. You groaned inwardly, knowing she was right but also that there was nothing you could do about it. 

You went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on your face.

The day seemed to drag on worse than it ever had. You tried to remind yourself to be grateful; that you were lucky enough to have been selected as a member of the small crew in the first place, and that your mission was important to the fate of mankind. But it all felt so trivial when you couldn't focus on anything other than the building feeling of dissatisfaction that ached between your legs.

Talking about Capa last night really hadn't helped things. He was all you could think about as you tried in vain to get your work done. Twice, you caught yourself making mistakes in your calculations as your mind started to drift elsewhere.

What gave him the right to walk around in those tank tops, showing off his perfect arms and chiseled shoulders - that's what you wanted to know. And why did he even have such sexy arms to begin with? He was a physicist, for god's sake. He sat in his lab all day doing nothing that should have given him such infuriatingly noticeable forearm definition. 

Capa had a habit of putting his hands on his hips or in his pockets while he talked, and of running his fingers over his lips when he was thinking. Somehow, everything he did seemed to make a couple of thin veins poke just below his skin, as if to tease you into thinking what he'd look like holding you up against a wall. These were all little things you had noticed - found it impossible not to, actually - and they drove you crazy. Being cooped up was one thing, but being cooped up with Robert Capa was a whole other problem.

Cora was right, though. He was unapproachable at best and actively self-isolating at worst. Capa was the pariah of the crew, and whether or not he intended to be, acting that way made him come across as kind of rude. But to you, that only added to the appeal. The idea of getting with a guy who was so aloof made your fantasies run wild.

That night, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You slipped into your small room, dimmed the lights to thirty percent power, and shrugged out of your shirt and pants. 

This was nothing you hadn't done before; it wasn't exactly groundbreaking stuff to masturbate when you were horny. For weeks now, though, it hadn’t really been enough to scratch the itch that seemed to grab hold of you whenever you were around Capa. But it dulled the ache, and for now that was the best you could hope for.

Your bed was more of a bunk, recessed partially into the wall. You laid down on the springy mattress and sighed as your fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear. You were still in your panties and bra, feeling self conscious about stripping all the way down even though you were alone in your room. 

It felt like everybody was living right on top of each other, although luckily your dorm was at the very end of a row, so you only had a neighbor on one side. Unfortunately, that one neighbor just so happened to be Capa. 

Knowing that he was so physically close only added to your frustration as your fingers swept over your clit. But still, it wasn’t like you had a choice about Capa being in the room next to you, and you certainly didn't have anywhere else to do this. Your fingers trailed lower, over your core, and you gasped.

You were already wet. Of course you were; after doing nothing but daydreaming about Capa for practically the entire day, how could you not be? You pictured his face from last night; how he had briefly looked at each one of you as you’d sat around the table with your two friends. The rush that it sent through your veins was electric. Your cheeks felt hot as you imagined him, his eyes holding slight disappointment while he looked at you. 

You weren't sure why that turned you on, but it did. You wanted him to look at you with that soft little frown; his blue eyes piercing through you as if they could see every dirty fantasy that played out behind your own eyelids. 

You sped up, using your fingers to collect some of the wetness that eagerly pooled between your legs, and then bringing them back up to rub at your clit. Slow circles at first, and then desperate with more pressure. Your mattress squeaked, and you hissed, bringing the hand that wasn't touching yourself down to grab at the cotton sheets.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, careful to stay as quiet as you could.

The only sound in the room aside from your moans was the wet noise that greeted you as you stuck two fingers into yourself, not bothering to warm up with just one. You needed this. You needed more, but this was the best you were getting. You curled your fingers, arching your back and daring to let a whisper of his name cross your lips.

A few seconds later, you were stopped by a knock at your door.

You barely had time to pull your fingers out, scrambling to sit up and cover yourself with a blanket as your door slid open. There were no locks, which usually wasn't a problem, except of course at times like this when it really reminded you that you had absolutely no privacy.

You were expecting Cassie - she had a habit of barging in, instead of waiting for you to answer her knock. But instead, you were greeted again by the very face you had been picturing only seconds ago.

“Capa?” 

Your voice felt strangely small in the cramped space. Capa stepped through the door, letting it hiss closed behind him. His face was expressionless, except for the barest hint of that pout that drove you so crazy.

He didn’t answer right away, but took a step closer and leaned up against the wall that separated his room from yours. Then, his lips curled into a smile.

“You really don’t realize how thin these walls are, do you?”

The implication of his words crept up on you, until finally your face was frozen in a look of sheer horror. 

“How much did you hear?” you asked, voice just barely above a whisper.

“Enough.” Capa shifted his weight, pushing himself off of the wall to stand up. “Enough to figure out the answer to that question Corazon asked you last night.”

“You heard that, too?” you groaned.

Capa walked over and sat down on the edge of your bed. Not touching you yet or getting too close, but hovering just out of reach in a way that made your skin tingle and your heart do flips. You had no clue if he was torturing you or inviting you to make the next move.

“D’you always think about me when you touch yourself?” Capa asked, bringing the volume of his voice down to match yours.

He sounded so sexy like that. He must have known what he was doing to you; his eyes were practically glowing with mirth and his lips were still curled into that smile. You shifted uncomfortably.

“I’d… rather not answer that,” you choked out.

Capa’s eyes darkened. No answer was as much of an affirmation as admitting it.

“You should have just asked for my help,” Capa teased. “You obviously need something. And it’s not like I’m twiddling my thumbs over there. Cumming into my own hand got old weeks ago.”

Your whole face burned hot with embarrassment at what he was admitting. And yet, at the same time, you shivered. The blanket you’d haphazardly thrown over yourself only covered your waist, and your bare shoulders were suddenly prickled with goosebumps. 

Finally, Capa reached out and put a warm hand on your shoulder, then dragged it down the side of your arm, taking your bra strap with it.

“Want me to touch you?” he asked.

His voice was low, and you could feel yourself getting pulled down with it. You knew that it would be stupid to do this; sleeping with Capa could only open a Pandora’s box. If it was good, you wouldn’t be able to get off on your own fingers for the rest of your time on the ship. If it was bad, you still had years to spend cramped up together. Your room right next to his in the already-tight quarters. It wasn’t as if you’d be able to avoid him after an awkward hook-up.

Suddenly, though, you realized that you were thinking way too much.

“Yes,” you whispered. 

Capa’s hand trailed farther down your arm; grabbed your wrist. You bit your cheek, wary of making any more noises after his earlier comment. All the crew’s quarters were laid out close together; if you were too loud, the whole ship would hear.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” Capa hummed, bringing you close as he leaned in, his lips practically brushing against yours. That seemed like a good enough place to start as any.

“K-kiss me - please,” you whimpered.

Capa’s lips found yours, and the rush that surged through you was almost overwhelming. It had been months since you’d kissed anyone, and the press of his slightly chapped lips against yours was doing more to you than it should have. 

Your mouth opened, and his tongue instantly pushed in. He was moving slow, but with a hunger that sent your mind racing with thoughts of what he could do to you if you asked. You felt Capa’s breath against your face; heard the low moan that vibrated through both of you as it came from the depths of his chest.

“What else?” Capa urged, pulling away. “We both know that’s not all you want.”

You could hardly think straight, much less put together a sentence. Instead, you guided his hand to your chest, and felt as his fingers squeezed. As he did, he leaned back in for another kiss.

You had put Capa’s hand over your bra, but he quickly slipped it under the fabric to rake over your bare skin. His fingers pressed into you, kneading at delicate flesh. You moaned, opening your mouth against his kiss again, and he bit hungrily at your lips.

“So soft,” he murmured, flicking a thumb over your nipple. “But that’s not where you really want me to touch…”

His voice was airy, even as he gripped at you with an intensity that almost hurt. He lowered his rough hand from your breast, and pushed past the blanket still draped over your legs. Teasing at the hem of your panties for only a second, he deepened the kiss as his fingers pushed lower and lower. Finally, he reached the wetness that was still pooling between your legs.

“You’re fucking soaked,” he groaned. You felt your cheeks heat up again. “You really want it that badly?”

“Fuck, Capa,” you whined.

“Want me to touch you like this?” he teased, voice still husky as he pressed one finger into you.

He had barely pushed in the pad of his fingertip, and you were already sinking into the mattress, unable to hold yourself up. Capa added a second finger, then repositioned himself, squeezing into the too-small bed with you to hover over your frame as his fingers roamed deeper. 

“Yes - just like that,” you begged. “Don't stop.”

Capa curled his fingers inside you, and you opened your mouth in a silent gasp. Your eyes had squeezed shut, and when you opened them again, you saw him looking pleased with himself, gazing down at you as you lost your mind over his touch.

“Bet you've thought about me doing this,” he whispered. “Isn't that right?”

“Yes-” Your voice hitched. “Yes- ah- thought about- cumming on your fingers.”

Capa smirked and brought his lips to your ear.

“You're not gonna cum on my fingers.”

He pulled them out of you, and you groaned at the loss. You felt his stubble scrape your cheek as he got up off of you, and you watched, half in a trance, as he took off his boxers. You hadn't even noticed until now, but he was just in his underwear and a t-shirt. He pulled the shirt off, too, and then went about removing the last of your clothes. 

You suddenly had the urge to cover yourself; like you now had too much on display even though Capa had already been watching your face twist in pleasure while he was knuckle-deep in you. You brought your arms up to cover your chest, but Capa gently brushed them away.

“Don't be shy; it's nothing I haven't already imagined,” he winked.

Again, the implications had you almost slack-jawed. You had no idea if it was true or if he was just teasing you, but you really didn't care.

“Let me show you what I've thought about,” Capa went on.

He took your hand and brought it to his hard cock, wrapping your fingers around it. He sighed a little as you touched him, softly, and the sound sent another shiver down your spine.

“C’mon - wanna feel you,” Capa said, his eyes half-hooded. “Use your hand. Squeeze me.”

Your heart fluttered as you followed his instructions; tightening your grip on his shaft until he was groaning above you. You gave him a few tentative pumps.

“So good,” Capa groaned.

The dull ache had returned between your legs; you were still missing the touch of his fingers. Even though you were happy to touch him as well, you needed the friction. You started to squirm, rubbing your legs together.

“Impatient,” Capa laughed. “Don't worry - m’not gonna tease you too much longer.”

His mouth dipped to your neck, pressing a kiss along your collarbone. Your hand flexed, and Capa groaned deeply again. The sound was enough to send you reeling; you thought you might come from his voice alone if he didn't hurry up.

“Stop teasing,” you begged. Breathless, and fully aware of just how desperate you sounded.

“I guess we've both waited long enough, huh?” Capa chuckled.

Your hand relaxed, and Capa’s came up to guide himself, hovering right at the space where you wanted him, but not pushing in just yet.

“Be quiet now,” Capa reminded you, and he kissed you as he started to press in. “Wouldn’t want anybody to hear you.”

You would have cried out, not caring who heard you or how loud you were, had Capa's lips not been pressed roughly against yours, swallowing your muffled moan as he bottomed out. He pulled back to watch you, panting like a dog beneath him, and smirked again.

“Fuck, this is so much better than my hand,” he said, breathing a little heavy himself. “M’not gonna last long.”

The idea sent your head spinning all over again, and your legs squeezed his hips a little tighter. The thought of Capa, coming too quick as he buried himself inside you, turned you on so much that you moaned out loud, and Capa quickly slapped a hand over your mouth. His palm was rougher than you'd imagined it.

“Told you to be quiet,” he warned.

When he started to move, you were grateful for the hand covering your lips, because without it you certainly would have woken the whole crew. As it was, Capa had to press his palm a little harder to muffle the moans that escaped. You were shameless; couldn't think about anything but the way his cock was stretching you out and spearing into you. It was more than enough to make you forget where you were.

“Not that I don't normally love hearing you get off,” Capa whispered, “but if you keep doing that, we're gonna get caught.”

Had he heard you the other times you'd touched yourself? You thought of him, silently palming his cock in the next room over, listening to your soft moans and breathy sighs as you tried - and failed - to stay quiet. 

Capa, unlike you, still had control of his voice; never letting it rise above a whisper. You wished you could hear him - how you were really making him feel. You bet he would make the prettiest noises if he'd let himself.

“Gonna be good?” Capa asked as he sped up.

You nodded, and he removed his hand. Instantly, the way his cock hit a spot deep inside of you made you hiss with pleasure, teeth clenched as you fought to stay quiet. 

“Fuck, Capa - driving me crazy,” you breathed.

“I know,” he agreed. “Feels good, doesn't it?”

“Mm-hmm…”

“If you can stay quiet, then you can cum on my cock.”

The way it felt like he was giving you permission sent another wave of heat through your whole body. You wanted to come for him. The feeling that had been steadily building now felt like it was nearly about to flow out of you; you could so easily let yourself fall over into oblivion.

“Can’t stay quiet,” you whined. “God, you feel so- ah!”

You gasped as Capa’s cock twitched inside of you, his hips continuing to swirl against yours. He was almost there, too; you could feel it. And the realization only pushed you closer.

“Shit,” Capa swore.

He was clearly at odds with himself, over whether to cover your mouth again so that the two of you wouldn’t get caught, or give in and let you scream for him. His hips faltered, and you moaned again. He was running out of time to make a decision.

“Bite down on my shoulder,” he said, finally. “Fuck - I’m gonna come.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You had thought very often about what it would be like to sink your teeth into his skin. Seeing even an inch of it peeking out from behind the collar of his shirt or on display in one of those fucking tank tops was enough to drive you crazy. You bit down, just in time as you finally let yourself give in to the building pressure.

As you bit him, Capa swore again, and scrambled to pull out of you, as best he could with your bodies still pressed together. He was coming, white ropes painting your stomach as you came down from your own high. 

You wished you had gotten to squeeze him more. The idea of him emptying into you as you milked his cock was almost too good to imagine. As your senses returned, you realized that Capa was speaking to you.

“So… Did you enjoy me teaching you about physics?” He was panting, but there was still light in his voice as he teased you, echoing Cora’s words from last night.

“Stooop,” you protested.

“If you didn’t, we don’t have to do this again,” Capa teased.

“Noo,” you mewled, voice still weak from your orgasm. “Can’t go back to fucking my fingers now…”

“Yeah,” Capa agreed, bringing his lips down for another rough kiss. “Me neither.”

The next night, Cassie proposed taking out the vodka again, and the three of you met in the canteen, as usual. Prepared for another late night of gossiping.

“You seem brighter today,” Cassie noticed, facing you.

“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m feeling a little better.”

You left it at that. You weren’t sure how long you and Capa could keep your new arrangement a secret, but you also weren’t rushing to tell the girls. The bottle of vodka made its first round, and the three of you started to speculate about which member of your small crew was most likely using up all the hot water. You’d all been taking freezing cold showers for weeks.

Only a few minutes passed before Capa came sauntering into the room again. Just like last time, he glanced at your group before reaching up to get something out of a cabinet.

“You three never learn, do you?” he commented.

You felt your cheeks start to heat up again. His eyes focused on you, briefly, and then moved on to something else. Cassie puffed up, straightening in her seat as she faced him.

“Go away, Capa,” she huffed. “This is a private conversation.”

Capa came over to lean on the table, glaring down at your small group.

“Oh yeah, I’m so interested in your riveting conversations about how I get off and roll over.”

Cassie’s face turned red. Corazon glared at him. And you felt your soul fully exit your body.

“You were eavesdropping on us?” Cassie shrieked.

“No - you just weren’t being quiet,” Capa corrected.

“The walls here are too damn thin,” Cora muttered.

Capa had a small smile as he straightened up and walked off, pausing just before he exited the room. He turned around, staring blankly at Cassie as he spoke.

“I’m not upset or anything,” he said. “And besides, your friend over there knows it’s not true, so…”

He left, taking with him all the air in the room. Cassie and Cora stared at each other, eyes wide in disbelief, and then pointed their gaze at you.

“You fucked Capa?!” Cassie shouted.

“Cassie, hush,” Cora snapped. She leaned in. “But seriously, we need all the details. Spill.”

You buried your face in your hands, trying in vain to hide your embarrassment. Your two friends badgered you relentlessly, begging for the whole story behind how it happened.

Somewhere else in the ship, Capa smirked.

[infinitethree]

Okay, you know what?

The bastard is almost, on an aesthetic level, not terrible to look at while he’s like this.

Asleep, he can’t be a fucking sociopath or an asshole. Those too-clever eyes of his aren’t judging and dissecting, they’re closed.

The absence of that bright blue gaze makes him seem surprisingly vulnerable.

So does the way Daz has, in the short while he’s been asleep, already snuggled up to him and is being clingy.

After the last few hours of running around looking for him, it’s a relief to know that he’s been mostly fine all along.

Naturally, when Daz didn’t come home, Raine got worried. The Council, aside from Lee who had been kept out of it, have been searching his known hidey-holes for hours now.

Obviously the HQ was one of the first places they checked, but the wall that leads into the hidden room was sealed off. They assumed that meant he wasn’t there, so they ignored it.

It wasn’t until Aster, in a last-ditch attempt, decided to open it up and check that the bastard was found.

He’d been fine, thankfully. Just having hyper fixated on the code and shut out everything else.

Aster carefully takes his com out and taps out a message to the others.

ShiningAster: bastard located. fine but asleep. focused on coding body for Innit, forgot he has a human body.

RaineStorm: seriously?? uhg, at least it’s normal shit this time

RaineStorm: as opposed to soul crushing despair and existential terror

Khons: need help moving him? ShiningAster: staying here. fell asleep on me, he has nightmares. also touched starved. might be less bastard if he gets good sleep

It’s only a little bit of a lie. Technically, none of that was wrong, but the implication was that Daz wasn’t strongarmed into accepting.

RaineStorm: yeah his nightmares are BAD and music only kinda helps.

ShiningAster: I think I can fix it. saying more will make him pissy

Khons: well if he’s not in trouble and staying there we’re going to bed

ShiningAster: night

RaineStorm: gn

RaineStorm: it’s gonna be really funny seeing him fall for you ngl

ShiningAster: its gonna be weird as fuck for me

After a moment, he switches to DMs.

ShiningAster: at some point we have a kid. Not adopted I think. looks just like him. her name is Azira. means rising star.

RaineStorm: WHAT THE FUCK??????

ShiningAster: also he made a deal to help with Innits body for seeing the same shit I do. but for me obviously

RaineStorm: oh my god that stupid asshole

RaineStorm: maybe he’ll learn his lesson. bc you’re def good to him, I know you.

ShiningAster: hes capable of being good to me back. too busy being petty for now though

RaineStorm: yeahhhhhh. he’s def an acquired taste. but he really is a great guy when you get past his him-ness

ShiningAster: lol

RaineStorm: he figured out I’d want a heated tub, art studio, and a porch. it’s freaky tbh but it’s nice.

ShiningAster: sounds fake but ok

RaineStorm: you’ve never seen him be like that so it’s hard to picture but it’s true!

That’s not quite right; Aster has seen Daz be kind and generous to others…he’s just never been the target.

No, maybe that’s not fair. He’s dragged Aster to a place of being better in a way he never would have done on his own. Despite his attitude, it did still benefit Aster.

Granted, he’s also been an asshole on purpose for literal years, so. That kind of events out.

ShiningAster: honestly just want to eat his damn food without being drugged

RaineStorm: something something the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach

ShiningAster: it sucks so bad to play chicken on if Ill suffer when I touch his cooking

ShiningAster: usually its worth it. at least until whatever he put in it hits

RaineStorm: and now we know why

ShiningAster: maybe therapy will fix him

RaineStorm: ngl I think not thinking he’ll kill anyone he loves will do wonders on its own

RaineStorm: but therapy will help too probably

ShiningAster: cant say much for obvious reasons but hes fundamentally broken. has been for most of his life.

ShiningAster: but Id never have a kid if he didnt seem in a good place. so whatever he does works

RaineStorm: have you considered it might be the power of love

ShiningAster: fuck you

RaineStorm: I’m serious!! think about it, he’s spent like 4 years thinking being loved will get that person killed

RaineStorm: he might have divine confirmation but he’s stubborn. might not feel real

RaineStorm: soooo someone who loves him despite his bullshit might be the thing that makes him be less…yknow

Ah, another reminder of how deeply fucked up Daz actually is.

ShiningAster: could be having someone who knows his secrets or even just Innit being out

RaineStorm: remind it that it needs a new name btw. too close to existing ones

RaineStorm: but yeah that probably helps too

RaineStorm: I feel awful I never noticed he was so…unwell

ShiningAster: hes good at hiding what he wants to hide. cant blame yourself when hes a master manipulator.

Said master manipulator mumbles into Aster’s chest, voice small, “I missed you.”

And, fuck, something in his chest feels like it cracks when Aster realizes what and who Daz must be dreaming about.

There’s nobody it could be but his former mentor. The person who gave him everything he ever wanted…and then committed an unspeakable sin against him.

Clearly, Daz still misses him. Despite what Dream had done to him, a part of him still misses the person who crushed him infinitely worse than anyone before him.

Despite only getting brief glimpses of that time, Aster gets the impression that Dream had been someone whose preciousness went beyond words.

Yet Daz couldn’t stomach letting him have his way after what he did. He rejected a place as a near-god beside someone who, despite the sickness in his soul, was devoted to him to a disturbing degree.

That…takes a strength of will that Aster isn’t completely sure he could match.

Fuck, nor does the decision to use the lethally broken enchantment as a backup plan.

If the rest of the server had failed to kill him, Daz would have chosen a death so agonizing that it chills Aster to his core.

It’s not hard to see why Daz is so…himself, honestly. Aster might not be able to think like him, nor agree with his actions, but in a fucked up way he can follow most of the logic now that he has the pieces.

He swallows as Daz’s voice wavers and cracks. “You said you’d protect me, so why…”

Aster adjusts his arms to a more comfortable positon, and messes with his hair more. “I’m not him, Daz. You’re not Tommy any more. Dream was sick– you know that.”

Horrifyingly, Daz starts shaking as he cries.

He rushes to add, “But– but you can have something new. Fuck, if you can be even halfway decent, I’d fall for you pretty damn quick. You can be charming, you know? And– and pretty romantic. It was– maybe it wouldn’t be awful. If you just stopped being such a bastard–”

At a loss for what else to do, he cuts himself off and starts humming.

Eventually, Daz slips back into deeper sleep.

But the memory of this unsettlingly fragile side of him will remain in the back of Aster’s head. Even when Daz is being the biggest bastard he can be…Aster knows he’ll remember this.

[tinypandacakes]

💥 What is one canon thing that you wish you could change?

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

🔮 Any advice for writers working through burnout or writer’s block?

💌 Is there a favorite trope you like to write?

💥What is one canon thing that you wish you could change?

SOAP DYING!! 😭 But tbh I don’t stick terribly close to canon for anything I write. I try to be true to the characters in my own way

🔮Any advice for writers working through burnout or writer's block?

Ahh a duplicate — basically read lots and go walk outside helps me! Do something creative that is not staring at my google doc waiting for the words to come. Talk it out with a fandom friend

💌Is there a favorite trope you like to write?

I love any sort of power imbalance, porn with plot is my bread and butter. I love instant obsession/infatuation/love (whether it’s sort of wholesome like in delta tango foxtrot or darker like in trapper, keeper)

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

I’ve been sitting on this half-finished SoapGhost boot kink fic for like 1.5 yrs lol I should finish it…

NSFW, unedited, boot kink, implied D/s

“May have shown off a bit today,” Soap admitted, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“Mm,” Ghost hummed, finally releasing his grip on Soap’s hair. “And why would you do something like that, Johnny?”

Soap shrugged, eyes lowering once more. Something tightened within Ghost’s chest at the sight of the man kneeling between his spread thighs, dark lashes fanning over Soap’s flushed cheekbones, a delicate detail against his rugged, scarred features. Ghost caught the direction of Soap’s stare, once more fixated on the boots he had put on just for the occasion. It was a new pair, clean and unscuffed, the material still stiff and needing to be properly broken in, the scent of fresh leather strong enough to cut through the cigarette smoke.

Soap’s infuriatingly tight pants revealed the depth of his own desire, his cock obviously hard beneath the canvas. Ghost clicked his tongue in disappointment and nudged his boot upward toward Soap’s groin. The side of his shoe brushed against Soap’s clothed shaft, bringing forth a tight whine from him. Soap closed his eyes as he rocked his hips forward, seeking friction against the leather.

Ghost pulled his foot back, denying Soap what he craved. “I asked you a question, sergeant.”

“Wanted your attention,” Soap said, voice husky.

“There we go,” Ghost murmured. He smoothed back Soap’s hair and lifted his boot back into place. “Good boy.”

Soap let out a tight little whine and began to roll his hips against the boot at his groin, his cock straining against his trousers to get a taste of friction. It was difficult for Ghost to pretend that this did nothing for him, that his own cock wasn’t rock hard against his thigh.

“You should see yourself right now,” Ghost growled, his voice dark. “So fuckin’ desperate. What if the others saw you like this, humping my boot like a dog in heat? What would they think?”

Soap whimpered, an incoherent sound that shot straight through Ghost’s core. It was the kind of noise reserved only for him, needy and soft, vulnerable — and he needed to hear more.

“Maybe next time you decide to show off, I should just fuck you right in front of the others so they know who you belong to.” Ghost watched the furrow in Johnny’s brow deepen. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Soap’s eyes had been closed as he jerked his hips against the smooth black leather, leaning into Ghost’s leg for leverage. But at that, his eyelids fluttered back open, peering up at his superior, wide eyes shining with dampness. The rest of the degrading words Ghost had ready disintegrated at the sight of the man before him, Soap’s expression so open, trusting, wanting.

Ghost’s cock twitched against its canvas prison, far too small now, too hot. He unbuckled his belt and carefully pulled himself free of the garment, his cock springing out to stand out proudly from his lap. Precum already dripped from the swollen tip, shaft twitching as Ghost watched Soap's pretty pink tongue rolled across his lower lip to wet it, eager, always so eager.

“Christ, you’re needy,” Ghost rasped, the accusation fitting himself just as well. “Now, open up for me, Johnny.”

[heytheredeann]

12 Days of Whumpmas 2023 - DAY 7: "Snow" + "Don't let them see you cry

Tags: Post-Canon, Can read as Gen or OT3, Non-Linear Narrative, Implied/Referenced kleptomania, Mission Gone Wrong, Hurt Illya Kuryakin, Illya Kuryakin Whump, (+ some emotional hurt for Napoleon), Crying, Implied/Referenced Torture, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Guilt, Gaby Teller Is Bad At Feelings

Notes: No idea why I have been writing so much Gaby POV lately LOL, but it's fun, so. Enjoy!

.

“How did this happen?!” she snaps, pacing around in an effort to restrain herself. Pointedly ignoring the blood in the snow, distantly realizing that she is so worked up that she can’t even feel the cold anymore, she fixates her eyes on Solo, whose openly guilty expression only serves to make her madder.

“I got distracted,” he says, quietly, and god she wants to punch him.

“By what?!”

She knows that fancy parties are his favorite playground, but they are in the middle of a delicate mission, he should have known better than to take his eyes off the ball, even just for a second. What could have possibly been worth it?

He wordlessly gets out a stupid, probably horribly expensive necklace that surely used to rest around some gullible woman’s neck, and she sees red.

.

(Later, standing guard outside their car, waiting for the arrival of an helicopter to get them proper help, he will huddle close, not quite asking for forgiveness but perhaps for understanding, and she will take his hand and pull it into the pocket of her jacket, granting both of them.)

(Later, she’ll listen to him apologize, voice a little broken as he explains that he didn’t mean to, he was just so nervous, and his skin was buzzing and he just needed to do something to steady the nerves, it usually helps, he was so quick—later, Illya will scoff and say ‘It’s fine, Cowboy, very stupid of me to get caught’, he will jokingly add ‘If you want to make it up to me, you can buy yourself at least one tasteful apron and put me out of my misery’, and Solo’s laugh will come out wet.)

(Later, she will pretend to be asleep, tucked into an armchair at a close enough distance from them that her heart can sit still, and she’ll hear Solo sigh, likely still hunched over the side of Illya’s bed, hand holding tight onto his, the way she last caught sight of them. “I’m sorry. I’m a terrible partner,” he’ll say, sad but resigned, and there will barely be a breath of pause before Illya will counter: “Of course not. You looked for me.”)

[More on Ao3]

[zeenmrala]

dreams and nightmares

an afab!jedi!reader x maul fanfiction

pairing: maul x afab!jedi!reader word count: 3.2k rating: 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. summary: a jedi is not supposed to desire their enemy, and yet you have found yourself doing exactly that. after many rotations spent secretly longing for maul, you finally find yourself alone with him - and he is soon between your thighs. but how can you possibly humour such an illicit dalliance, when you are jedi, and he is a renegade sith lord? (tl;dr: you have hate sex with maul lol). cw/tw: reader is afab and referred to as ‘pretty.’ enemies to lovers, lightsaber hilts to throats, pushing, shoving, hitting. masturbation and self gratification discussion. themes of guilt and shame. kissing, implied consent, hate sex, rough sex, vaginal fingering, afab!receiving oral sex. cybernetics!maul. a/n: this story is written as a birthday gift for my dear friend @elledjarin​​​. happy birthday elle! i hope you have had an amazing day. love you!

Dreams and Nightmares

[read on AO3] / [my masterlist]

Maul thrusts two fingers inside of you easily, your wet heat greedily welcoming his intense yet nimble touch. As he begins the most perfect yet unbearable rhythm, you mewl out a broken moan, bringing your hand to the back of his black neck. You use him as an anchor to sit upright, holding on harshly as he expertly moves his rough tattooed fingers in and out of you beneath your robes. Your heart beats quicker and your chest aches with resentment and relief as he gradually fucks you harder and harder, faster and faster. It is both so right and so wrong, so exquisite and therefore devastating.

His glowing yellow eyes, glazed with outrage and longing, are fixated on his own hand as he works the dripping slickness of your cunt. His countenance is severe, his jaw tense, his breathing unmeasured. You naturally spread your legs wider, using your hips to bear down onto him, into his fingers. He grunts and then leans closer, and you can feel his warm breath on your shoulder. Your arm brushes lightly over his hot skin as you shift further into him. All that you can smell is your own arousal, the scent of your sex distinct and heady, and the taste of his skin and lips persists on your tongue. He brings his burning eyes to yours, and your breath hitches in your throat.

By the Stars. 

How is this real? You are Jedi, and he is a Sith Lord. He is your enemy. You are in the middle of an active warzone, and your squad waits for you outside of this cave. Maul hates you, he wants you dead and has tried to kill you countless times - he is a criminal, a murderer, evil. To be intimate with him is inappropriate, reprehensible. And yet… You do not want this to end. 

Heat licks up your neck in shame, as your disgrace runs so much deeper than you care to admit. For you have secretly fantasised about this exact moment countless times. You have covertly lusted for this monster, have dreamt of him in all of his hideous glory every night since the very first time you crossed sabers. It is your greatest and most terrible truth, that there have been many late nights spent alone: with only your fingers and the memory of his handsome, wretched face for company. Endless sinful, traitorous hours living in the state of a wicked, blissful nightmare. 

There have been many occasions in which you have lapsed in your loyalty to your Order and to yourself, times when you have allowed that raw and carnal attraction to fester - too many times to count. You have envisioned so many decadent dreams of those immoral hands on your chest, imagining that his long nails are clawing at your hips and waist, pretending that there are crimson fingertips teasing you between your legs until you reach your own release.

The sickening guilt that wracks you after each mind-shattering climax is what keeps you sane and safe. The shame allows you the focus to keep such desires hidden. Renounced but not erased. Dabbled with only for self-gratification, ignored and indulged in, over and over and over.

You can pretend it does not exist, but it tears you apart all the same.

Because the more that you desire him, the more that you despise him. Fear him. Hate him. All emotions and sentiments that are forbidden and dangerous. 

Of course, you have tried to rid yourself of such appetites. You have tried to avoid him, but the will of the Force will always return you to the battlefield, to the fight. To temptation. You have sought counsel, have spent hours meditating on your strange, sensual fascination with him. On how to forsake it. But it is fruitless - for after each altercation or confrontation, your mind is muddied with images of his strong chest, striking horns, bold tattoos, impressive cybernetics. Your thoughts relentlessly linger on the bitter, faithless truth - the truth you continually struggle to deny.

You want him.

It is a cycle that never ends, that you exacerbate and soothe with your own shame. That is the beauty of it, really - that all of the conflict and turmoil vanishes when you pretend, when you touch yourself. For those few blissful moments, when you dip into your most secret and treasonous fantasies, when his hands are yours - all is well.

Until it is over, and then it isn’t.

You now stare into the bitter eyes of this Zabrak man, this murderous villain that is finally touching you. He feels so good, and yet he is ruining your life. You gently snarl, and then you are kissing him again as he keeps fucking you with his fingers. It’s all teeth and grunts and roughness. Harsh hands working you as he kisses you back deeper, and then he bites your bottom lip, one of his hands gripping at your waist. 

It feels exactly as you imagined it would.

Your resentment overwhelms you, and you suddenly push him away, shoving his chest with a growl. He pulls his fingers out of you and you whimper pathetically at the loss. He smirks as he then hits you back, pushing you to the cold ground of the cave, and you hit the floor with a harsh smack - and then he is on top of you again. A hand around your throat, the weight of his metal hips between your legs. Your cunt is aching, yearning beneath him as the desires played out only in your darkest fantasies are made flesh at last. 

“I know your secrets,” he taunts huskily. “I have always known.”

“Lies,” you mewl from beneath his lips. 

He ruts forward into you and your legs spread further. 

“You have not thought of me as your fingers dance circles between your thighs?” he drawls, mocking, callous, knowing.

“No,” you groan.

“Liar,” he purrs. “Your thoughts betray you.”

“You’re pathetic.”

“You are insufferable,” he whispers between gritted teeth. Then he crashes his lips down to yours. 

As you kiss him, you hear the scrape of metal on stone. Then you notice that his lightsaber is now resting by your head, one of his hands having dragged it close. He swiftly brings it to your throat as he dips his wet tongue into your mouth. You look up, breaking the kiss to flash him a wicked smile as you reach your arm out and summon your own weapon with the Force. You press it over the spot where his first heart beats wildly in his chest. You stare into his eyes and push it into his skin hard. 

You lean further into him, but then he shifts backwards from you, though he is unable to escape the threat of your weapon without releasing you from his. He slips a durasteel leg between your thighs instead of his hips to gain some space, and you bear down onto his upper leg as he presses the hilt of his saber into your throat harder.

You look at each other for a moment, both wondering if either of you will really do it, after finally getting here. You cannot help but instinctively squirm, trying to rub yourself against him again, your cunt so desperate for friction even in the face of his threats and your own. 

He sneers at you, “You refuse to relinquish your weapon, even when you take your pleasure with me.” He presses his leg further into you, knowing exactly what he is doing. 

You roll your eyes. “Hypocrite. You threatened me first. You kissed me first. You want me as much as I want you. ” 

He does not deny it. “Hmm. I am still going to kill you,” he growls.

“If I die, you die,” you reply. Your finger hovers over the ignition switch that can so swiftly cleave his heart in two. By the Force, you are tempted.  

“I thought we were finally getting on,” you say with mocking disappointment. With a slight chuckle you add, “Though I suppose that this is natural for us. I am Jedi and you are Sith, after all.”

“You may be a Jedi,” - his weight on your throat becomes heavier with the word - “But I am no Sith.” He seethes, your words clearly having jarred him. He has slowly moved closer, and his lips now hover just above yours.

“By the Galaxy,” you mutter with a huff. “You are so dramatic.”

“I am - ”

You press your lips to his, silencing what would no doubt be more relentless nonsense. He kisses you back and you grind into each other, though still keeping your lightsaber hilts in place, which restricts you somewhat. He soon halts though, pulling back to look at you, his gleaming eyes scanning the lines of your face, down to your throat where he holds you still, using his weapon to keep you flat on the ground. You twist the hilt of your saber, screwing it into his skin as solidly as you can. He presses his hilt into your throat harder in response, using such pressure now that he begins to choke you. But you stay stubborn, your thumb teasing the ignition switch, eyes boring into his, refusing to yield.

You stay deadlocked for a handful of persistent, tense moments. Just as you think you may pass out, he finally removes the weight of the saber and you greedily gasp in air, twisting over to cough. He tsks in disgust, falling back and sitting on the ground opposite you. You eventually compose yourself and sit up, running a hand over your throat. In a moment of utter recklessness you lunge at him, bringing the hilt of your saber beneath his chin, and his weapon now casually rests against your chest. 

Of course.

You have just switched positions, though now you are both sitting in front of each other. You glower at him, your resentment suddenly stirring into anger the longer that you look at him. You do your best to push it down - you harness your training, breathing away the intensity of the emotions. But the enduring lust continues to rattle you, and your frustration blossoms into rage. 

“Fury,” he whispers in acknowledgement. “I know that well.”

“Stop talking,” you demand, removing your saber from him. “Do not pretend you can relate to me.”

You stare at one another momentarily as he also lowers his weapon. You watch him carefully, as you both try to understand one another’s physical cues, attempting to recognise any changes in the Force to determine what will happen next. After a painfully long silence, he looks into your eyes and slowly raises an arm, lightsaber in hand. You brace yourself for that bright red light, preparing yourself to react fast. But the crimson glow never comes. Instead, he throws his weapon away with a dramatic Force push. You follow his lead with a smirk, doing the same to your own, though sending it to the opposite side of the cave. 

Then you are kissing again. 

His hands soon pull open your robes fully, revealing your bare skin to the chilled night air of the cave. Your fingers slip between his horns and his fingers find your nipples. You groan as he licks at your tongue, pulling you onto his lap and bucking up into you as he takes a moment to really feel you beneath his hands. His palms caress all parts of you, your face, neck, shoulders, breasts, waist. But soon you are returned to the floor, on your back once again - he clearly enjoys looming over you, having control of you from above. With a self-satisfied grin, he is now using a hard metal knee to pry your thighs apart, before rutting the clothed material of his upper leg into the searing ache of your cunt. 

“Pretty little Jedi,” he taunts. “Such rage.”

“Stop talking. ” You shove him back harshly. 

He smirks at that, but obliges you when you pull him close again. He uses his mouth to instead kiss your neck and your throat, biting you harshly. You cry out at the sharp pain but lean into it, allowing him to bite you again and again. You are soon addicted to the sensation, and are holding him to your throat. 

“Admit it. You hate me,” he demands into your skin. You groan. He talks so much. 

“I don’t,” you lie. “I don’t care.”

“There is a thin line between hate and apathy,” he groans, lapping at his bites with his tongue.

“Maybe.”

“I know hatred. “ A pause. “If you truly do not already, you will hate me. I will make you.”

You scoff and shake your head, feeling terribly brave with your reply. “I’d like to see you try. ”

He growls and slips a hand between your legs once again. 

Finally.

He rubs your clit with his fingers and you moan a ragged mewl, the noise thick with desire. His eyes darken at your reaction, and you see him attempting to resist licking his lips. Stars. He really does seem to want you as much as you want him. 

“My hands star in both your dreams and your nightmares,” he states. “Because you enjoy and resent the pleasure I bring you.”

“Shut up.” 

“Tell me, pretty angry Jedi,” he demands as he works you. “When I touch you like this,” - he slips his middle finger deep inside of you, crooking it and teasing his fingertip against that spot, right there - “is this a dream? Or a nightmare?”

“Both,” you moan, your eyes closing as you come closer and closer to your peak.

“I do not believe you.” He grips into the flesh of your thigh hard. 

“Dream,” you mutter softly. With a growl he begins to fuck you again, and you cry out at the incredible pleasure of his fingers.

“Liar.”

His malicious words combined with his masterful touch is so perfect, so delightful and so wonderful that you loathe every second. The closer he brings you to climax, the more you despise him. This isn’t a dream…

“Admit it.”

“Nightmare,” you concede with a groan.

“Yes. Because you cannot stand it, can you?” He teases you, slipping his free hand around your throat. “You hate how good you feel at my mercy.”

“I don’t hate - ”

“Spare me more of your lies.”

“Kiss me,” you say in response before thinking, surprising yourself with your wantonness. A hot wash of embarrassment wracks your body after the fact.

“No,” he scoffs, removing his fingers from your cunt. You groan in frustration as he chuckles cruelly.

“Why not?” you ask, somewhat pathetically.

“You are undeserving.”

He then swiftly grabs your neck in both hands, returning his full weight on top of you, gently choking you as he runs his eyes down your frame. He hums softly.

“You look good with my hands around your throat,” he mutters. “So pretty. Even for a Jedi.”

You laugh softly at his comment, your legs still spread with him between them, your eyes beginning to water from the intensity of your desire. 

“Desperate little thing,” he mocks you. 

“Enough,” you cry, demanding, your hips rising of their own volition. “Do something.” 

Another malicious laugh. He enjoys teasing you. “You believe that you will be able to live with yourself after I make you come?” 

You growl and throw your head back as his hands slip down to your breasts, squeezing them roughly. His fingers play with your nipples as he continues to torment you.

“I am showing mercy by not indulging you in your fantasies. ”

You laugh. “Mercy. How very un-Sith-like. Who are you trying to prove that to? To me or yourself?”

“Insolent.” He groans aggressively, pulling away from you. It seems as though you may have touched a nerve. He slowly lowers himself between your legs. “So ungrateful.”

He spreads your thighs roughly, his acrid, violent gaze burning into the sight of your hot core, desperate and waiting for him, calling to him. You watch him inspect you, noticing how his eyes appear hungry as they rake across you. His chest gently moves as he breathes, his long nails scratching at your legs as his grip tightens on you. You have never been more attracted to anyone before, never wanted someone to take you as you need him to have you right now.

And it makes you so terribly angry.

“I admit it,” you seethe, frustrated with yourself for acknowledging it, for humouring him and accepting the truth. But it is the truth, and you are desperate for his attention. “I hate you. I hate you so much.”

“I know,” he says softly with a smirk, lowering his mouth to your cunt. His breath teases your wetness with every word. “And you are going to come so hard that you will hate me forever, pretty Jedi.”

Then he kisses at your slit, licking a stripe up your folds. You gasp and lock your legs around his head, his horns digging into your sensitive flesh as you grind yourself into his mouth. He hums a self-satisfied laugh at your reaction before indulging in you fully. He feasts, licking and sucking and nipping, attentively working your clitoris so ardently that you are sure it will not be long until you do climax. 

“Say my name,” he demands, teasing a finger at your entrance.

“No,” you refuse. 

“Do you want to come?” he says shortly as he pulls away.

“Yes,” you groan and cry out in utter despair, “Don’t go.”

“Then you will say my name.”

You hum a whine as he brings his mouth back to your cunt, swirling decadent circles around your clitoris, throwing you to the very edge, forcing you to fully embrace your connection to him. To admit that you want him, hate him. That you need him.

“Maul,” you whimper. “Maul please.” “Louder,” he demands.

“Maul,” you cry, arching your back as he unleashes himself upon you. He does not hold back, his mouth and tongue are fast, his fingers rapt, his focus unwavering. 

“Again,” he says into your sex, the vibration of his voice a dizzying pleasure that triggers your release. “Come for me, pretty Jedi. Scream my name.”

And as you reach your peak, you do. You cry out his name over and over again as the volts of unmatched bliss shoot through your nerves, as you clamp down around his fingers, as you come into his mouth. The wash of your climax lulls you into the most mind-numbing sense of relief that you have ever experienced. 

But unlike every other climax you’ve reached with your lonely thoughts of Maul - this time, the guilt doesn’t rear its head. This time, after you orgasm, you do not regret anything. You have no remorse for what you desire, what you have done. And you do not care what anyone thinks. Because maybe, you realise, after all of this time - maybe to solve this problem, it is not him that you should be forsaking. 

Maybe it’s everything else. 

Maul secretly smiles between your thighs, and you feel his hands lightly squeezing your legs with a specific affection that you recognise in his delicate touch.

Pride. 

–

darth maul taglist: (like this post to be added, message me to be removed):

@elledjarin​​ @gggoldfinch​​​ @corona-one​​​ @kimageddon​​​ @seriowan​​​ @gran-maul-seizure​​  @downinthewater​​​ @bisexymaul​​​ @sp00kworm​​​ @hvngmanstrick​​​ @aurora1145​​​ @maulslittlemeowmeow​​​ @bubblyfishbro​​​ @jo-addario​​​ @the-chains-are-the-easy-part​​ @x-kiwi-03​​ @didntseethatcoming04​​​ @mandoleksiak​​​ @edlix​​​ @wordsfromshona​​​ @gods-and-monsterss​​​ @ratwebkinz​​​ @asheffectx​​​ @moonstrider9904​​​ @geminisupremacy​​ @justalittletomato​​​ @eyecandyeoz​​​ @just-an-anxious-ball-of-flesh​​ @okaycryptid​​​ @nightsister-juisid​​​ @wingofshadow​​​ @netherlady​​​ @lazarithebellydancingmime​​​ @hellscapenerd​​​ @itsagrimm​​​ @mommymao​​​ @morganlefaye13​​​ @zakotocinclus​​​ @jedimastersovi​​​ @cuttlefjsh​​​ @ahoeformando​​​ @obiwanshusband​​​ @cadbanecringecompilation​​​ @audacityjuice​​​ @remoireobsidian​​​ @writercels​​​ @stardustbee​​​ @daisydayssss​​​

(if you aren’t tagged and have liked my taglist post, it is because i do not know how old you are or i cannot tag you).

[likeastarstar]

Invisible String Pt.2

Part One

(A/N: read part one before this part if you haven't already so it'll make sense!)

masterlist.

Jungkook interested you, so you kissed him.

"I don't normally do this," You promised, feeling breathless as Jungkook kissed his way down your jaw to your neck.

"Same," Jungkook nodded urgently, barely processing what you said in favor for tugging you by the waist so that you were straddling him in the back of the cab he had called for the two of you. He said he just didn't want to leave you stranded at the club, that he'd see you home. But one thing led to another and you were currently praying the cab driver didn't yell at you.

Jungkook's hands were everywhere, rubbing at exposed skin, grazing through your hair, flattening against the small of your back. He rocked your hips back and forth against his lap, frowning again in concentration. Shit- he was really hot.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed, wondering what he looked like under his leather jacket. He felt so solid under your touch, like he belongs there. You dragged your other hand through his hair, pushing it back and off his forehead. He keened under your touch, smiling slightly while his eyes fluttered closed as your nails dug into his scalp lightly. You reached the nape of his neck and tugged on Jungkook's hair so that he was looking up at you in his lap, eyes snapping open in sharp attention.

Jungkook's lips parted slightly, as if he was about to say something before-

"First stop." The cab driver interrupted, making you jump slightly as the car came to a screeching halt in front of your apartment complex.

You would've asked him to come inside- except that Jungkook practically pushed you out of the car with a fleeting reminder about the money you still owed him. Ouch. You had clearly completely misread the situation, but that didn't stop you from thinking about Jungkook from that moment on.

You looked for him everywhere, scanning crowds on your daily commute, lingering at the same crosswalk you had met him at. Your eyes stayed glued to the floor when you boarded the bus on your way home most days, trying to catch a glimpse of those black boots.

The next time you did see him was three weeks later, at a gaming cafe, of all places.

"No, no, no- NO!" You whispered, scoffing in disbelief as you lost for the third time that night.

This was not normal for you- loosing, that is. You blamed it on the other abnormality of your current situation: being in a gaming cafe. Normally, you'd be playing LoL in the comfort of your own home sans-pants. But one overly excited moment and a mug of tea placed too closely to your set up and boom- no computer for you. At least while it's in repair.

"You're very dramatic," A voice said next to you, snapping you out of your spiral.

You frowned and looked over to whoever was next to you, locking eyes on Jungkook, who was currently slurping down noodles like someone was going to take them from him. You shrieked in surprise, the two of you jumping in your chairs at the same moment. "Are you stalking me?" You whisper-yelled, leaning away from him.

"No," He snapped, talking with his mouth full. "I got here two hours before you, I just didn't feel like saying hi until now. I could ask you the same question."

You watched him eat in awe, trying not to fixate on the way his tongue looked snaking out to lick his lips every now and then. There had been too many coincidental run-ins between the two of you for this not to be fate. You shook your head, throwing the incredibly stupid thought out of your head.

"Anyway, good thing I ran into you," You shrugged, choosing to ignore the fact that the last time you had seen him, you were rubbing your pussy all over his lap. "I have something for you."

He looked at you with his eyebrows raised, waiting expectantly as you dug around in your bag for a moment. You found what you were looking for, a small keychain of a skeletal hand in the same positioning as the tattoo on his forearm. "I saw it and thought of you, so I got it for you. Here, rock on." You explained, handing it to him.

He laughed slightly, taking it from you gingerly and inspecting it closely. "My tattoo means I love you, not rock on." He pointed out, pulling out his keys and putting the token on the loop.

There was a warm feeling in your chest knowing he was actually going to use it, one that only grew when you noticed the slight blush on his cheeks, "Yeah, well, the keychain means rock on." You quipped, "Do you like it or not?"

"I do," He said quickly, holding up his keys with a bright smile. You sent one back to him, beaming so hard your cheeks hurt. "Thank you."

At this point, neither Jungkook or you ever made plans to see each other. You knew it would just happen on its own. Which is exactly what happened a month later, on what could only be called the worst day of your life.

Things hadn't been going your way for a very, very long time. You usually had pretty good luck, but suddenly it was like the universe had forsaken you altogether. After a particularly terrible blind date, you had had enough- no more dating. This guy was all kinds of awful, he didn't laugh at any of your jokes, he had a terrible taste in music- he even wore the wrong clothes. He had loafers on- loafers. God, Jungkook would never wear those.

Instead of wallowing in a ruined night, you did what any struggling girl boss would do- you got yourself dessert.

You walked to the nearest 24 hour diner, pushing the doors open quickly. There was barely anyone here, thankfully. It was the perfect place to be alone.

Except that two seconds after you sat down in a quiet booth next to a window, Jungkook came marching up to your table. He was wearing a color other than black- this time it was a patterned buttoned down shirt and loose fitting trousers. You couldn't see his shoes, but that wasn't really what you were focused on at the moment. No, instead you could only stare at his latest haircut, cropped short on the sides and parted neatly. Who was this guy and what did he do to your fluffy headed soulmate?

"Are you sure you're not stalking me?" You asked calmly, at this point you were completely unsurprised to see him popping up at the most random times.

"I saw you from the window on my way home and figured I'd say hi," He shrugged, sliding into the booth beside you, immediately tossing his phone haphazardly onto the table. "Although I'm beginning to think you're a figment of my imagination. It's bizarre how you just keep...appearing."

"You're telling me," You snorted, resting your chin on your hand propped up on the table. "But I'm not sure if you'd be able to kiss a figment of your imagination."

Jungkook blushed deeply and you laughed for the first time that day. He was just so easy to mess with. Jungkook pouted childishly and stole your menu, burying his face in it.

"We did a little more than a kiss in that cab," He said in a whiny voice, "It's pretty late, why are you at a diner at one in the morning?"

"Nothing, bad day." You mumbled, "I needed pie."

"Valid reasoning," He said pensively, "You look nice, by the way. I like your earrings, they match mine."

You looked at the chain looping through his double piercings, realizing he was right- you had a similar version in your own ears. Weird. You didn't get a chance to return the compliment before the waitress came over and Jungkook ordered literally every kind of pie on their very extensive menu and two coffees.

"If pie will make you happy we might as well go all out." He reasoned, only noticing your outraged face when the waitress left. "Anyway, I got you something."

He dug around the backpack he has dumped in the booth beside him when he got here, pulling out a flash drive with a a tiny keychain of a butterfly connected to it.

"I don't know if I've never mentioned this before, but I'm a musician." He explained, holding it out to you. "This has my latest stuff on it. Nothing fancy, just wanted you to listen before I send it off to my label. Plus, the keychain reminded me of you."

You took it from him slowly, holding it as if it were worth a million dollars- which to you, it was.

"Sometimes I think I dreamt you up," You mumbled, still staring at the flash drive. You couldn't wait to listen to it, to hear his velvet tone and silvery vocals whenever you wanted. This was the first, tangible thing that connected him to you, a reminder that even if the universe hated you right now- at least Jungkook was in it.

"Touch me and see," He offered, leaning back in his seat with a small smirk on his face.

Your eyes flicked back to him, a dare written across his features and a thread pulling at your heart. You leaned forward, a smirk of your own on your face until his phone buzzed, interrupting the heated moment.

You weren't trying to be nosey, but the bright light of the screen caught your eye and you glanced at it quickly. It was a text from someone, their contact saved under a series of hearts and one word: wifey.

Wait- his what?

TO BE CONTINUED...PART THREE

(A/N: MUAHAHAA! If you've made it to the end, thank you, I love you, I'm sorry. Next part is the last part, as always feedback is so so appreciated! Send me an ask goddamnit!)

[disembowel-me]

@avo900 hey!

So, Im not sure why it started, but i can try to explain the reason it appeals to me. Its a multifaceted appeal, and its not necessarily even the teeth themselves that im attracted to. Its more like... I'm attracted to what they represent.

Firstly I have a huge oral fixation. Ever since I can remember I've liked having something in my mouth to play around with. Binkies as a young child, and later moved onto chewing gum. I used to eat things like pieces of paper and uncooked pasta just because i liked the way it felt in my mouth. I ‘chain chewed’ gum all throughout school and up to this day. I love biting - food, random stuff, myself, my partner (both sexually & just randomly. honestly mostly just randomly).

Tooth brushing specifically I have liked for a long time. It's very intimate, and can be very sweet and domestic or humiliating. It's vulnerable. At some point, I'm not sure when, I realized it feels really good when I poked the toothbrush just a liiitttle too far back when brushing my tongue... loved the way it sent shivers through my entire body and gave me goosebumps. Gagging myself with my toothbrush became pretty common, sometimes deliberately, sometimes not. Sometimes I'd jam it back too far or one too many times and make myself throw up in the sink (always an accident). And a mouth full of frothy white toothpaste drool is kinda hot..... its like if cum wasn’t gross lol

i’ve always like tooth pulling because it’s horrifying. teeth dont grow back, that’s the only set you get. you need them for eating and talking and the affect the way your face looks. and someone can just.... yoink them out and theyre fucking gone. the tongue & mouth are soooo sensitive too, and not being able to actually see the damage, it can make your mind run wild with horror at what’s been done to you. with no teeth, you have far less defense against anyone or anything that decides to invade your mouth, too.....

just recently in the last few months, have I decided to start sexualizing my teeth so that I’d take better care of them. I have terrible teeth, and did NOT take care of them well as a teenager so they’re even more shitty now. I figured I’m way more likely to take care of them better and more regularly if I made it something fun instead of a chore. I have a dental phobia too, which I know is kind of ironic. But also not really, since things that scare me also tend to be hot.

also, the mouth is an entrance to the inside of the body. its all pink and wet and soft and hot like an organ, but it’s also full of these pointy hard things??? and a somewhat prehensile muscle? that tastes??? and if you follow the hole it leads into the rest of the body, like a portal to get to the guts without hurting them...... i find orifices sexy. the mouth is a very unique orifice

[neh-sekssi]

the ride | jeonghan

Note: Three month hiatus!!! Wow!!! So I realized that I write on spontaneous bursts of energy which is why I’ve been hella quiet but during quarantine I been thinking about Jeonghan a bit too much lately and wanted to do this quick piece. Somebody said he’s the Loki of Seventeen so I kept that in mind while writing this LOL. Stay thirsty, my friends.

Pairing: jeonghan x reader (female)

Synopsis: After taking a flight to finally meet your online partner, they flake on you and never show up to dinner. Tired and frustrated, you call for a lift to go to your complex. Your driver happens to be a devilishly handsome man you can’t take your eyes off of. How many rides are you willing to take for a dick appointment? 

Word Count: 1.7k

Smut Warning: sub!reader dom!jeonghan, car sex, flirting, grinding, oral (f/m. giving/receiving), straddling, nail scratching on back, **i swear it’s consensual even though it sounds like it isn’t (i just really like doms ok)

“I don’t often get the chance to talk to someone like you.”

Your driver looks over his shoulder at you and offers a friendly smile. You meet his eyes in the rearview mirror and politely nod your head before quickly looking away. You’ve never met anyone as handsome as him, which leaves you blushing and averting your gaze to the window.

“Long night?” he asks.

“Actually, it was cut a bit short.” The driver looks at you in his rearview mirror and lifts both his eyebrows as if asking for an explanation.

“It’s no big deal. I just… well, I flew for six hours to get here but the person I was supposed to meet for dinner never showed up. I was probably catfished. Anyway, I called for a lift and now we’re here. Thanks for not bailing on me,” you laugh faintly as your voice trails off. I can’t believe I took an airplane for a dick appointment.

“What an asshole,” your driver exclaims. “You even dressed up to look good for them. I’m glad I was able to save you from your terrible night.”

You bite your bottom lip and peak at the rearview mirror. His eyes are fixated on the road but you want to lock eyes again. You lean back against the headrest and close your eyes. Is he… flirting with me? Because I was stood up? Does he feel bad for me? Or is he just being nice? You try to ignore the throbbing in your pants but it seems to get worse the more he speaks to you.

In the midst of your thoughts, your stomach grumbles to break the silence. Slightly embarrassed by the sudden noise, you say awkwardly, “Ahhh. Didn’t even get to eat dinner.” “Don’t worry. We’re almost home,” he responds.

ㅡ

“You can pull up over there,” you say as you direct him towards your complex’s parking garage. He has trouble finding parking but finds space on the fourth floor where there are barely any cars. He turns off the engine and helps you bring your luggage all the way to your doorstep.

“Oh! I think I left my phone in your car,” you gasp. “I’ll go with you,” he responds.

Back in the parking garage, you open the right back door of his car and look for your phone under the front passenger seat. You hear the left back door open opposite of you and look up. He’s also bent down behind the driver’s seat and his face is barely a foot apart from yours. You become entranced in his gaze, his deep brown eyes.

“Found it,” he smirks as he pulls your phone from behind him. “O-oh,” you say as your snap back to reality. “Thank you.” He passes over your phone and his warm hand brushes against yours. You notice that there’s a nameless number on the screen.

“Call me if you ever need saving. Someone like you shouldn’t have to wait for anyone.” You see his eyes fixate on your lips.

Am I really gonna do this? He’s hot. And I didn’t get any dick tonight.

You know what? Fuck it. 

Your lips quickly find his as if two magnets had been waiting to meet. He holds the nape of your neck with his right hand and pulls you completely into the car while closing the door behind him with his left. He swirls his tongue in your mouth as if beckoning the throbbing in your pants to give in. He lies you down and climbs on top of you. You’ve been craving this moment the entire flight. His lips still working like magic, you feel him grind against you as he reaches behind you to pull your door shut. A knot forms in your stomach as he thrusts into your hips deeper, his hard-on teasing you against your pants.

His hand finds its way to the inside of your pants. “Have you been wet the entire ride? God, I knew it.” Without hesitation, two fingers slide into your folds and you let out the loudest moan. You’ve been holding it in the entire night and the pleasure felt like a breath of fresh air. He’s quick to shut you back up with deep, passionate kisses. He won’t let you rest for a moment.

You’ve become so wet that his fingers slip in and out with ease. He rubs your clit with his thumb, sending a shock down your spine. He moves quicker and quicker, curling his fingers each time to hit your sweet spot. Your eyes roll back and you see the windows starting to fog up. As you moan through your intertwined tongues, he pulls back and says, “You’ve been wanting me ever since I picked you up, huh? Making my car wet?” He takes his fingers out from your pants and puts them in your mouth. You swirl your tongue and suck on them to show him exactly what you want. You feel him grow harder and reach your hand to stroke it but he stops you before you can even move.

“Let me show you why you flew all the way here.”

In one swift movement, he pulls your pants down and takes a good look at you. His lips trace your inner thighs, melting you with every kiss. He kisses your folds, then glides his tongue from the bottom of your entrance to the top of your clit. He sucks on it and moans, sending vibrations throughout your body. You arch your back as his tongue slides into you. Tasting every inch of you, you can tell by his rough oral that he wants you badly. Holding your thigh for support, he inserts two fingers and sucks your clit at the same time. He moves his fingers in and out as he flicks tip of his tongue up and down your slit.

“Fuck me,” you plead.

He smirks at your desperation, the same smirk he gave you when he “found” your phone. His eyes have a snakish look in them as if whispering I’ve got you right where I want you. “You hungry?” he asks sarcastically.

“Fucking starving. Please.”

You sit up on your knees as he rests himself on the seat. Your hands couldn’t unzip his pants any faster. He finally reveals his hard-on and you’re mesmerized at his length. The knot in your stomach grew tighter. Suddenly, you feel his warm hand on the nape of your neck again.

“Say ‘ahhh.’”

He pulls your head down towards his crotch, groaning when he enters your mouth. His hand moves from the nape of your neck to the back of your head. He controls your rhythm by pulling your hair up and down and moans deeply with each stroke. You desperately want to return the favor, making sure he hits the back of your throat each time, licking him all around like sweet ice cream. You moan in response and he tugs your hair a bit harder.

He pulls you up from the seat and positions you on his lap, facing him.

“Ride me.”

At his command, you stroke him as you position yourself right at his tip. You’re too careful and take longer than he wants; with both hands on either side of your waist, he pulls you down onto his length. A warm rush of euphoria spreads throughout your body, both of you moaning in unison. You feel the force of his hands guiding your hips, directing you, controlling you. Each thrust feels deeper, wetter. You put your hands on his shoulders for balance but he places them behind his neck, locking your fingers with yourself. The way he asserts authority over any small movement makes you weak. Even when you’re on top of him, you feel completely dominated.

You close your eyes and throw your head back, mouth agape with moans escaping your lips with each bounce. His heavy breathing turns you on even more. You open your eyes and see him working your waist, his brows furrowed, lips bitten, hair stuck to the sweat of his forehead. The mere sight of him is hot.

Your vision instantly darkens as the parking garage lights dim from the inactivity on the floor. Losing your sight makes you focus on feeling his every inch inside of you. He holds you stationary in the air, then thrusts into you with his own movement. You gasp in surprise at the sensation, encouraging him to go harder. He’s able to slide in and out so much quicker and you start to feel dizzy. With your left hand bracing his shoulder, your right hand grabs a fistful of his hair and you tug his head back. He immediately stops and gives in to you. Finally.

You start sucking on his exposed neck and he lets out moans of relief. Simultaneously, you roll your hips into his and ride him. You try to go deeper with each grind as it hits better and better on your G-spot. His hands snake their way up your back and you feel his nails dig into your skin. You arch your back as a reflex and he pulls you into his chest. He bites at your neck more roughly than before. The pain sends you higher and makes you thrust roughly into him. Seeing his dark figure at your own disposal arouses you so much.

After a final thrust, you feel him throb inside of you, filling you up. He lets out the loudest moan of the night, sending you to your climax. You continue to ride him and he moans gently from his sensitivity.

“Fuck. I’m cumming!” you cry. You release yourself and ecstasy overtakes you as both of you flow from inside. You melt on top of him and he chuckles at your limp body.

“Let me get you cleaned up,” he says warmly, the same tone he had when he was driving, completely different to the one he had mere seconds ago.

“I never got your name,” you say as you sit down onto the seat. He opens the car door and the lights flicker back on.

He hands you your phone, and again you wonder how and when the hell he took it. “Say my name next time,” he winks.

You look at the new contact name matching the phone number from earlier and smile.

Jeonghan

[jadelotusflower]

Robin Hood Rewatch: 2x08 Get Carter!

This is actually one of my favourite episodes of the season, partly because I really enjoy relationship angst, but mostly because we get multiple characters dealing with their trauma/grief. If we can't get these guys and gals into therapy, at least we get to see them talk (and hug) it out.

Also the best episode title they're had for a while - I have no doubt one of the writers is a fan, and Carter is so named only because they wanted to make this reference. The assassin seeking revenge for a dead brother is wholesale lifted from the plot of the film, and Joseph Kennedy almost has a passing resemblance to Michael Caine's look in that role.

"Get Carter - before Carter gets you!"

Carter is one of the only guest stars they actually will bring back later, and for good reason.

"Why don't you ever kiss my ring?" Vaisey, always making things creepy.

Marian is simmering with unrestrained anger, eager to get into the fight, while Robin is the one advocating for the watch and see approach, and it’s quite the role reversal.

The gang's reaction to her charging off is quite funny though, she knocks John over completely and Djaq throws her hands in the air.

Robin’s now getting a taste of what the rest of the gang have to put up with dealing with his recklessness.

Tying Marian up in the middle of a melee, however, is disgusting behaviour - while Marian was hot-headed throwing herself into the fight (nothing Robin hasn't done before himself), he knows that she can hold her own with a sword and doesn't need protecting. Tying her hands is the absolute worst thing he could have done, because how is she meant to defend herself? I can somewhat understand where Robin is coming from in this episode (even if he goes about it badly), but this is unjustifiable.

Clearly she gave that guard she clanked on the head amnesia, because he never reports back that Marian was fighting with the gang.

“I owe you my life”/“I won’t take it just yet.” Nice.

Scimitar is still missing in action.

Robin doesn’t want Marian to be seen in case she needs to return to the castle, when he’s spent the whole season urging for her to join the gang. I think he realises he made a mistake asking her to flee last episode without giving her time to deal with her grief, and wants to leave her options open. But telling her that she’s not ready to make the decision (about whatever she wants to go back), however correct, is patronising.

There's a fundamental conflict that Marian wants to be treated like a member of the gang, but doesn't want to cede to Robin's authority like the rest of the gang - in turn Robin expects her to follow his orders like the others, but isn't treating her like he would the others either - he would never tie them up to keep them out of a fight, and Marian has every right to pissed at him about it.

Djaq and Much having a little tête-à-tête about Carter - I just really enjoy that they’re often paired together in these gang scenes, they balance/play off each other so well. Just this pure platonic frazzled vs calm vibe.

Much just has this really great memory for faces - he was able to recognise fake Richard last season just from his profile despite wearing a helmet, and now he knows he remembers Carter's face from somewhere (or as it will turn out, Carter's brother).

Much really just does not let up, and I love that about him. "You'll be disappointed though, with uh, today's wound. I mean if you're planning to go back to the Holy Land and, uh, kill him." That not so subtle probing for information and Sam Troughton's delivery is always perfect.

"Wasn't me, was it?" Oh Much, so close.

“The crusty one” - lol

It's not explicit, but implied that Vaisey and Guy believe Edward was the one passing information to Robin, and Marian is cleared of any suspicion (paving the way for her return). Guess Guy never showed the Sheriff that hair dagger after all.

Vaisey is actually giving Guy some really good advice here, albeit laced with his usual cruelty and getting all up in Guy's personal space.

"Grow up Gisborne" - now I don't think it's deliberate on Vaisey's part to invoke a Marian parlance, seeing as she really only says this to Robin (and once to Much), but it's a nice little callback, however unintentional.

Marian asks for an apology (and deserves one), but Robin doubles down and doesn't come out of this exchange well.

Because his delivery is terrible, but he's otherwise quite correct - as skilled as Marian is, she’s used to relying on (and having to worry about) only herself and not work in a team, and look to a single point of command. But both of them have their backs up - they're two strong personalities and neither is going to give ground, reverting to the ideological clashes of season 1, except now in much closer quarters.

Robin's also not used to being challenged in this particular way, and in his frustration is reacting like a captain disciplining a soldier, not a lover helping their partner through their grief. I do wonder if the conversation would have gone differently if they'd been alone.

lol at the gang awkwardly standing around listening to Robin and Marian fight. Djaq trying to busy herself with her mortar and pestle as Robin and Marian argue around her.

A really great scene between Marian and John aka the camp dad. Marian really just needs someone to listen to her and appreciate what she's going through - Robin is too fixated on the dangerous way she's channeling her grief and not even trying to address the root cause. He trying to tell her what to do, not listen to what she actually needs.

On the other hand it's probably better coming from John, a neutral party without the emotional baggage she has with Robin.

Because Robin and Marian are really being driven by completely different motives - Marian by grief and therefore loss, and Robin by trauma and therefore fear. In her sorrow, Marian has lost all her fear of being discovered, in fact she wants to make it know she's with the gang, to finally be free to say which side she's on and fight openly, to make her father's death worthwhile, and can't understand why Robin is trying to stifle that.

"I thought you used to have your own men Little John?" So someone remembers Forrest and Hanton!

After Carter takes down the gang one by one, Robin takes down Carter in three seconds (including catching the long dagger Carter throws at him, and flinging it back) and it's lights out. Can you believe it's the first concussion of the season? (Notwithstanding the multiple head injuries Allan sustained last episode).

While Marian has been known to be punch-happy, the "he'll tell us more if he knows we're willing to hurt him" is just so (intentionally) out of character - it is however somewhat reminiscent of Robin in 1x08, wanting to get his punch and torture on with Guy. However rather than understanding where Marian is coming from, he pushes her away with the "go and cook something" jibe. This almost feels like he was going for familiar banter and miscued, but is also an asshole thing to say. When their positions were reversed in 1x08 Marian at least tried to reason with him - Robin is seems to be ill-equipped to do the same.

Allan just having a little snooze against the castle wall. He really seems defeated and depressed after last episode.

Marian's corset has a pouch to hold a dagger - or at least I hope there is because otherwise it's ouch time.

Leaving Marian at the camp is again a mistake on Robin's part - it excludes and isolates her from the gang, rather than trying to involve her so she can bond with them, engaging in their outreach to the peasants - who she helped as the Nightwatchman, but never really had the opportunity to come to know. It would remind her that they are not just fighting against the Sheriff but for the people, which in her frenzied grief she has perhaps lost sight of.

Instead, Robin's focus is on Carter, who he rather identifies with and so finds it easier to address his motives, and try and change them.

Carter is in many ways Robin’s dark mirror, what he could have become in the Holy Land if he chose a different path. It’s important that this happens right when Robin is backsliding - he’s trying to save his own soul as much as Carter’s.

Okay, let's talk about Marian’s forest gear - fashioned from the outfit she wore when she fled the castle the previous episode - but dear me it's awful. The grey culottes, rather than becoming trousers have now been turned into that corset, and her vest/skirt overlay have now become those trousers. Just baffling.

“I’m good with nuns” followed by Allan straight up knocking the Mother Superior over and stealing her ring is iconic.

Much gives Robin a sword to use going after Carter - still no scimitar.

I really love the confrontation/fight scene between Robin and Carter - it's very well choreographed and written, but we also see the best of Robin's character (after seeing some of the worst earlier).

Carter's brother is called Thomas - Allan's brother was called Tom. Lots of dead brothers in this show (including Djaq's).

The story of Carter's brother Thomas dying because he "stopped listening" and led a raid against orders is a little on the nose, but gives context to Robin’s fear for Marian’s safety in part triggered by his war trauma - someone charging in against orders and then dying in his arms.

But it shows Robin as a man who, even when Thomas' recklessness had cost not only his own life but others of Robin's men, was still moved to instruct the stretcher-bearers to make Thomas the hero, and himself the negligent captain, in order to comfort his family.

The fight is fairly even, and although Robin gets the upper hand in the end, it's only partly his skill - rather his true strength is in reaching the man inside the assassin, and then surrender and allow Carter to take his revenge if that's what he wants, and despite his fear, trust that there is good still in him, and that he can leave behind the life as a killer as Robin has done (tried to do).

This scene is the core of why I really love Robin as a character. He's riddled with PTSD and a reckless bravado, he's at time emotionally stunted with those he loves, makes terrible mistakes and often says the wrong thing, but he also has this great heart and compassion that allows him to reach people, to understand and help them, even at the risk of his own life. He's trying.

"He was a hero - just not on that day" is quite a poignant line.

Much and Djaq together again, just saying.

Robin finally finds out that Roger of Stoke was intercepted. I had assumed he'd figured that out once he knew Allan was a traitor but okay.

Poor Much crying out for Robin's attention - he's got his own trauma from the war and wants to talk about it, to commiserate with Robin about what they went though, but Robin can only cope by not talking about it, not even thinking about it.

Much makes a good point that Robin should have listened to him about recognising Carter, but it comes across as jealously over Marian and Robin misses just how deeply Much carries his hurt.

One of Robin's biggest flaws is that he's overwhelming in his affection, compassion, and understanding for strangers, but takes those he loves for granted - Carter's response to grief was the same as Marian's, but Robin listened to Carter, consoled and comforted him, while keeping Marian at arm's length. Perhaps because strangers don't ask for anything beyond that - it is the granting of kindness, but not the sharing of self. It's the latter Robin truly fears, but what Much and Marian deserve (although tbf Marian has problems with this as well).

“Either I’m part of your gang or I’m not” is a valid point, and Robin's still not happy even when she agrees to stay behind!

But she disobeys him, and saves his life. It's a rite of passage - almost all of the members of the gang have this.

Allan looking rather distressed as Guy is about the chop off Robin's head, and he makes a small movement just before the swing (as does Much).

Guy again pushing Marian past the point of discomfort - she left, wrote him a letter asking him to leave her alone, straight up told him to his face to leave her alone, and still he persists.

Her kissing Guy (to distract him from seeing Much and Will) is really the only time she sends mixed signals, but Guy's whole energy seems to be just to wear her down until she agrees to be with him and it's gross. It is however kind of amusing that he tries to be authoritative and forbid her from leaving, and she immediately walks away.

Robin and Marian are back in playful banter mode, although I wish there had been a deeper discussion (and that Robin had apologised in return). It doesn't quite feel like the conflict between them has been resolved, it really is just a "truce".

But I do like that it's Marian who reaches out to Robin at the end of this episode, because up until this point it's Robin who has been (somewhat) the one making overtures - asking her to join the gang, telling her he needs her, telling her he loves her, while Marian's been more reserved. This feels like her acknowledging that sometimes she needs to take the first step.

This was a long one - but as a I said, I really love this episode!

[tigerdrop]

Still to shy to come off anon but like honestly??? very curious what kind of 'embarrassing ideas' you got b/c their prob really good actually. you don't gotta spill if you don't want to, i'm just a nosey bitch who loves all your ideas so far lol

W E L L. ive been tossing around some Ideas with pals for the past few weeks and i can share some of em hear since u ask so nicely

im engrossed by the idea of benrey being Not Human and consequently being fascinated with the Extremely Human things that gordon gets up to. this is in part why i like writing benrey as not strictly needing to sleep and liking to watch gordon sleep. its like, vulnerable......kinda intimate......

but this can extend to other things too. like eating. imagine, if u will, benrey being fucking weird and being entranced watching gordon eat. and the vicarious satisfaction he would get if he could make something for gordon......and have him eat it and like it.......the biggest problem tho is that i imagine benrey would be fucking terrible at cooking. just burning shit and not knowing what tastes good to Normal People but goddamn it he tries, and maybe gordon feels bad enough (and confused enough) that he agrees to try it anyway.

also i think people feeding each other is really fucking cute and intimate but thats kind of veering away from my Brand of writing them as mean assholes who only secretly like each other. Anyway

yknow.......one of the most human things out there is the act of fucking for pleasure. (PLEASE NOTE THIS IS ABOUT TO GET FUCKING WEIRD) envision, if u will, a benrey who is so fixated on gordons dick slip b/c hes kind of just got a ken doll, unrendered situation down there himself. hes fully aware of Horny Shit b/c he is just, like that, but the acts of “having a dick” and “getting off with it” are fascinatingly human things that he has no experience with

so. he watches gordon jerk off and is totally engrossed by it. the ultimate in orgasm denial: getting turned on but not having any way that he knows of to get off like gordon does. it would be really cool if his good bro, his friend, gordon freeman, tries to help him figure out exactly what buttons he can push to get himself off without having any junk to speak of

explaining to him like "you know, like, you get off and then youre not horny anymore. it goes away for awhile" and benreys just like.....whu....huh.....it goes away...... ? ???? ???? he straight up Didnt Know and hes just been getting fucking hornier and hornier the whole time in black mesa w/o release, which is why he gets bolder towards gordon and says grosser and grosser shit as the series goes on

anyway tl;dr did you know some people can orgasm just from having their feet touched the right way? i just thought that was interesting. Thanks For Reading About Null Benrey

[one-piece-dumpster-fire]

A nsfw scenario of biscuit daddy and mochi reaction to their s/o ask if they can watch them to touch themselves to get better at pleasing them >/////

Oh.MAH GOD. I’m literally living for this so much??? Like, this is kindof one of my kinks xD? Ehhhhh lol ANYWAY here comes my second try at two smol filth scenarios!!! Hope you enjoy and there is nothing but dirt under the cut xD! (Update: the cut doesn’t work??? Ayayayay I’m so sorry!)

….when you’re watching them please themselves- dirty scenarios

Biscuitdaddy (Charlotte Cracker)

„Haaaah?Did I hear that right, princess?“

Awide, lecherous grin immediately started to form on his lips asCracker held your quivering form in his arms, while a huge red blush wasburning on your cheeks as you averted your gaze back to the groundand fumbled around with the straps of your top, which your boyfriendhad already started to tug down.

„I,uhm, I mean you don’t have to, of course! I just thought that… itcould help me with understanding how to properly please you…“

youmuttered as panic and embarrassment spread through the entirety ofyour body. Once again you had found yourself in the confinement ofCracker’s office, at first only to pay him a visit and bring oversome muffins you had baked for him, but within seconds you foundyourself sitting on his desk once more, with your boyfriend suckingand nibbling on your sensitive neck. Everything seemed to play out asusual, when suddenly a thought crossed your mind- something you hadwanted to ask him for quite a while now, but never really found agood opportunity to do so. Well and maybe this wasn’t the right timeeither, after all he seemed totally caught offguard, and gosh what ifhe thinks you are some sort of dirty pervert now and-

„Alright(Y/N). I’m gonna masturbate for you.“

„E-ehhhhh?!?!“

…and nowit was your turn to be caught offguard by the sudden bluntness of hisreply, and for a moment you lifted your head a bit and came face toface with that huge, toothy grin you knew oh so well. „I-I-,“ youstuttered, unable to form a sentence, and with a low chuckle Crackerpushed you back onto the table before leaning into his chair whilefumbling around with his belt.

„Mhhh,since you want me to put on a show for you, I’ll gladly do so~!Anything to help you get better at pleasing me, my shy little flower.“

hegrinned as his pants- and soon after, boxers- hit the ground andrevealed his already semi-erect manhood, which seemed eager as alwaysto greet you.

Aloud gasp escaped from your throat as you slowly sat up to get abetter look at what was going on, but the blush on your cheek justincreased as Cracker slowly put a hand around his member. God, youcan’t- this is, this is all weird and… what the hell did you getyourself into?!?!

„Nowwhat I want you to do is watch closely. If I see your pretty eyes onanything but my sword, there will be some punishment, understood?“he purred as his hand slowly started to pump up and down, „this wasyour idea after all, so I won’t let you off the hook now!“

Ashudder went through your body as his words settled in your ears, anda scared yet oddly excited feeling began to spread in your lowerabdomen. Unable to form any words, you simply nodded your head inagreement, which caused Cracker’s grin to widen even more. „Now,what you wanna do is start like this…“ he continued as if thiswas just like a normal lesson at school, as his fingertips suddenlystarted to seemingly dance around his manhood, softly touching it invarious spots which caused him to groan softly. Was he teasinghimself…?

„Youdon’t want to start with the real thing right away my love, first yougotta get me in the mood…“

Crackerpurred once more as he pressed a finger to his tip, which caused ashudder to run down both his and your spine.

„Hah,hah… usually it takes a bit longer, but I’m not used to anaudience, especially one that sexy, so things might move a bitfast…“ he admitted and swallowed softly with what seemed to be anapologetic smile on his lips as he held his almost fully erectmanhood in his hand now.

Hisother hand was resting behind his head which almost caused him tolook like he was relaxing, or being casual about doing somethingso… raunchy right infront of your big, innocent eyes. But by now youmanaged to adapt to the situation a bit, and although the blushwas still prominent on your cheeks, your gaze was no longer trying toavoid exactly what he was doing, and instead completely focussed onhis manhood as if you were studying it itensly like some newlydiscovered entity.

Crackernoticed that as well and couldn’t help but laugh at your oddlyfascinated stare before he started to rub along his member at arather fast and firm pace. Various groans and moans escaped from histhroat in the process, and you could see the sweat that was startingto form on his forehead and ran down his face.

„Hngh…do me a favor and pull that top down a bit, princess…“ hesuddenly hissed in a hoarse voice, and that demand immediatelycaused you to shudder in suprise.

„M-mh…okay…“ but you immediately gave in and slowly started to lift the top over yourhead before carefully putting it down next to you on his desk, withyour lacy black bra now revealed to his hungry eyes.

„Ah,my favorite one!“ Cracker hummed as his trademark grin reappeared once again and a small trail of drool started to form in the corner of hismouth, „did you plan to suprise me today~? Hah, how considerate!“he moaned and pumped faster and faster, his eyes fixated entirely onyour cleavage. „hehehe… your marshmallows look exceptionallytasty today! Perhaps I could earn myself a taste later?“ Crackerwhispered in a low voice, and now he wasn’t the only one gettingsweaty anymore. You pushed your thighs together and started to softlychew on your bottom lip as he continued pleasuring himself.

„There,and then you gotta pump it like this…“ he groaned and started tojerk his manhood with newfound vigor, when a sudden idea suddenly poppedinto your mind.

Hedidn’t even notice that you had left the desk and were now just astep away, his mind and whole body was just too focussed on theincredible feeling running through his veins. Oh this felt way betterthan the other times he did it by himself, it seemed like having younear simply had an extra bewitching effect on him…

„Uhm,like this…?“ 

His ears immediately perked up at the sound of yoursoft voice coming from between his legs, and with eyes widened insuprise Cracker looked down, only to find you right there, strokingalong his length with one of your hands just like he was still doing.There was less vigor in your movements, but it still felt just asintense as the rough treatment he was giving himself. It took amoment for him to realize that this wasn’t really a weird pre-orgasmfantasy, and his usual grin immediately appeared back on hislips.

„Yeah,like that baby…“ he moaned and slowly pulled his hand away to letyou take over. He could feel the clumsiness and uncertainty in yourtouch, but with an encouraging nod he signaled you to keep going.

Shit,this felt good, way too good, plus the sight of you between his legslike this was simply too much to handle….

„HYYYYAAAARGHHHH!“Cracker yelled all of a sudden, which caused you to wince back insuprise, and a moment later something hot and sticky hit your cheek.„Ouch, what the-OOOWWW!“ you shouted as his hot seed suddenly hityou in the eye, which caused a burning sensation to spread throughyour body.

„Owthat stings, that stings so bad…“ you whimpered and tried to wipethe semen out of your eyes, as Cracker was collapsing back into hischair, now heavily breathing but with a large and satisfied smirk onhis lips.

„That…was amazing, darling.“ he chuckled, still completely unaware of theirritating situation you were in right now, the afterglow was simplytoo effective.

„Ohbaby, we gotta do that again soon…“

Charlotte Katakuri

„Hm?You want what now?“

thedonut Katakuri was holding close to his mouth slowly started tocrumble as his grip around it tightened, his eyes widened withsuprise and a brow raised in your direction. He must have heardwrong. Yeah, definitely- the sound of him gulping down his favoritetreat overshadowed what you had just said, and his mind somehowpieced together something odd, something you would never ask,something-

„Uhm…I… I would like to see you touch yourself, please…“

-impossible.

Thedonut in his hands immediately broke apart, his face now flushed andyour tall boyfriend slowly chewed on the remaining chunks in hismouth before swallowing hard. He avoided looking at your face, whichyou were more than grateful for because your cheeks were on fire, andyour mouth was quivering in embarrassment.

„You…you want to watch me touch myself?“

Herepeated with a slightly more calm voice, and after his initiateshock Katakuri turned to look at you, his eyes unusually soft and asmall glint of confusion reflected in them. Huh, he almost lookedlike an innocent child who just got asked to clean the dishes orsomething, but there was also that understanding spark in his eyeswhich told you that he at least wasn’t mad or anything of that kind.

„I,I just want to get get better at pleasing you… I always feel likeI’m doing  something wrong, so… I was kind of hoping that you couldshow me…“ you whimpered and shook your head in discomfort, ohthis was going terrible. Talking to him during his Merienda was aterrible idea in general and you should have known that, especially sinceKatakuri is always just focussed on gulping down his delicioussnacks, but there simply wasn’t any other place that would give youthis privacy with your boyfriend. Plus, this was the one genuine timeof the day when he let out his cute little goofy side, so you weregambling on the hope that he might have taken it more lightly… well thatdidn’t seem to work however.

Butsuddenly, a loud sigh tore through the silence and you could hear theclinging sound of his boots as Katakuri was stepping closer to yoursmall body. You shifted in your mochi made seat, a look of discomfortall over your face. Was he going to scold you now? Will everythingturn even more awkward then it already was…? You quickly shook yourhead and gulped before trying to find the right words. Maybe therewas still a chance that you could make him forget about this whole thing…

„Katakuri,I-“

thud.

Beforeyou could even start properly, a large donut piece was suddenly dropped intoyour lap, which immediately caused you to jerk upwards in suprise.There he was, looming over you, his eyes focussed on a spot on yourright and- was that red hue on his cheeks… A blush?!

„Here,hold onto this for me. And don’t make any funny noises, okay?“

Katakurimuttered in an unusually low tone, before he turned back around andwalked over to the spot where he had been ravishing donuts just a fewmoments ago. With a quick move of his hands he opened his belt andtossed it aside, before slowly letting his tight leather pants slidedown.

You held onto the donut piece as your gaze was focussed on hisblack, striped boxers but much to your suprise there was nothinggoing on in there. Not even a small bulge.

„…..don’tlook yet, I need to get it hard first!“ Katakuri suddenly gruntedas he noticed your glance, the red on his cheek getting more and moreprominent in the meantime. You simply gave him a weak nod beforelooking up at the ceiling of his selfmade mochi shrine, almost as ifyou were studying the edible architecture now.

Yourboyfriend of course wasted no time and closed his eyes as he startedto calm himself down. He was never really one for masturbation, andthe fact that you were there, sitting across from him, didn’t helpone bit. But instead of giving into the despair, Katakuri simplydecided to blend everything out and focus on naughty thoughts. Ormore specifically- you, lying under him as a moaning and whimperingmess, begging for him to let you cum as he was once again ‘punishing’you for your previously dirty behaviour…

Alow sigh escaped from his mouth as he could feel his manhood comingto life. And after spending a few more moments in his dream scenario,Katakuri nodded and opened his eyes before signaling you that it wasokay to look.

„Iwill begin now.“ he announced and started to place a hand againstthe tent that had formed in his boxer, a relieved hum leaving hislips as he started to massage his manhood through the thin fabric.Katakuri still didn’t look at you, he knew it would just throw himoffguard, so the only thing he focussed on was groping and squeezinghis member. But not after long, just feeling himself through theboxers wasn’t enough and the tall man quickly stripped out of them,which immediately caused his erect manhood to spring free withexcitement.

„A-Ah…“you quickly pressed a hand against your mouth as the small noise ofheated curiosity escaped your lips, and quickly averted your eyesfrom his hard member, desperately hoping that he didn’t notice it…

Katakurihowever did notice. Of course he did. And for some reason, hecouldn’t help but smirk at how curious, almost hungrily, you wereeyeing his erection just a moment ago. A new wave of desire floodedthrough his body as his hand slowly resumed to doing what it hadpreviously done, but this time without any fabric in the way.

Lowand throaty grunts started to escape from his mouth as the Commandertried to stay as quiet as possible, but the more his hand massagedhis member, the more difficult it was getting. Soon enough he had to switchfrom simple stroking and fondling to straight out starting to pumphis length, as the desire in him continued to build.

Bynow you were holding onto the donut piece as if it was the only thingthat kept you sitting on the ground, otherwise this oddly eroticdisplay might catapult you into a place unknown to mankind. Your pinktongue quickly darted out to sweep over your suprisingly dry lips,and a small drop of sweat was running down your neck. Did seeing yourboyfriend masturbate really have such a strong effect on you aswell…?

„(Y/N)….“

yes,it had. As soon as Katakuri growled out your name it felt like yourcheeks weren’t the only things on fire anymore, and you had to resistthe strong urge to reach between your legs to confirm if that placewas as slick as it felt right now.

Hecontinued to growl your name, and was getting progressively louder inthe process. For some reason, have you next to him like this,watching as he was doing something so sinful… just awoke a desiredeep within him to punish you for even suggesting something sofilthy in the first place… perhaps he should be calling you over, demanding you to help him get out ofthis situation you basically put him in and-

„I…I’m here.“

Eyeswidened in suprise as your soft whisper reached his ear, sounding soclose, so touchable, as if he just had to reach and-

„Iwant to help, uhm, if it’s okay with you of course!“

-thereyou were. Right there next to him, with big eyes staring at hismanhood almost hungrily, but with an innocent spark of curiosity aswell. That sight alone almost caused him to cum right there and rightnow, his hands pumping at such a fast pace that it almost made himfeel like he was tearing off his own member, but upon seeing you andyour desire to touch him, he immediately slowed down until his handscome to a total stop.

„Iwas just going to suggest for you to help me.“ Katakuri mused witha low chuckle and immediately released his manhood from his grip,which allowed you to take matters into your own hands. Literally.

„Uhm,let’s see…. you did it like this…“

Your shaky voice reminded the tall man of a gentle breeze, something so lightand comforting… Katakuri couldn’t help but release a content hum asyou clumsily started to repeat his movements, your hands pumping onhis rock hard manhood at a nice and slow speed. Of course you neededboth of your hands to just grasp around his manhood, and rubbing his entirelength felt more like a workout than a quick handjob, but yourdetermination and desire to please him made you push that aside asyou continued working.

„Mh…. (Y/N)… prepare yourself…” Katakuri suddenly groaned as he felt his passion build up more and more, and it was getting almost impossible to control…

“I will let go now!” he announced with a deep growl, and just a moment later his hot semen squirted from his tip and against, the ceiling, almost like a fountain which caused you to wince back.

It didn’t take long for him to empty himself, and once his essence was starting to drip back down Katakuri turned to the side, grabbing your small body with a low growl which caused you to gasp in suprise as he placed you right ontop of his chest.

“Now, my dear (Y/N)… as for your punishment…”

[mysterylover123]

BNHA Rewatch Episode 26 “Time to Pick some Names”

mysterylover123

We return to normal school stuff with a fun little episode, packed with some ominous foreshadowing.

Seeing Izuku getting hounded like this just makes me wonder what kinda attention the other kids get. Especially Bakugo.

This draft picks do make me wanna call bullshit a little though. Like, I get why Deku isn’t up there. But why is Kaminari, who got taken out in seconds, in 5th, and Ashido, who made it into the second round and has a very popular and easily demonstrative quirk and look, not up there at all?!

This episode is really shippy, you guys. Todomomo here. Look at how she looks at him. She likes him. Convince me otherwise.

Iidaraka making an appearance too! Aw, lookit her shaking him!

Why is Midnight the chooser of names, BTW? She appears to have bad taste in names, despite her own decent Hero name, so what gives her the right?

Baby Aizawa and Present Mic! Seriously, Mic should’ve been the one presiding over Hero Names! He gave Aizawa a great one and has one of his own! Seriously, it could’ve been perfect!

Aww someone’s nervous!  (edit: this screencap didn’t quite grab the right moment. Basically, Bakugou looks endearingly nervous in this shot.)

So my thoughts on the names:

Aoyama needs to change his. cantstoptwinkling is too long and unwieldy to be a Hero Name and it sounds ridiculous (he says it in English so I know it isn’t just some weird translation).

This was perfect. Screw you Midnight. Alien Queen should’ve been Ashido’s name.

This one’s nice. People do call her Froppy sometimes. I like too how this beat is played: The first two names make everyone nervous, and Tsu puts them at ease. That seems to be her role in Class 1-A: to help people deal with crisis situations and stress.

Red Riot is another winner. Being derived from another famous name is not a problem; it’s a comic book tradition. Though this does bring up that pesky Imitation theme once more. Kiri wants to be just like Crimson, and that concept gets explored in more depth in the Internship Arc. It makes me wonder if Kiri should switch names to symbolize throwing off that role, or if he should stick with it to symbolize the good Crimson brings to him.

Izuku himself notices the similarities between Kiri’s name and his own fixation with All Might for me so I don’t have to explain it.

Now we are met with the CUTEST FUCKING IMAGE EVER COMMITTED TO SCREEN OR PAPER. DEKU YOU ARE TOO PRECIOUS.

Now some snarky Kamijirou content! Someone’s a little bitter about Kaminari getting more draft picks than her, aren’t you? Actually, I feel like there are some similarities between Kamijirou and BKDK - both pairs argue a lot, yet seem to share an odd connection. The diff may be that while Jiro is more like Midoriya in terms of power and personality (she even takes obsessive notes like he does), she’s the one who antagonizes Kaminari. He’s more Kacchan-like, perhaps why he’s friends with the guy, more born-powerful and cocky, but he’s the one who gets messed with. I dunno, interesting connection. 

Probably the coolest sounding of the names that are just ‘my quirk’. Jiro can stick with this one.

Kinda generic but hey, it’s better than Jamming-yay.

Also kinda generic, maybe something that sounds cooler in Japanese, I’m guessing?

Not half bad, but it doesn’t really sound like a hero name.

This one’s a bit generic, but darn it all if it doesn’t sound like a name you’d find in superhero comics.

Ditto.

Triple ditto. Actually a name in Superhero comics. 

This one’s terrible. Mina deserved better.

Hmm...Momo...this isn’t terrible, per se, but I still think Yaoyorozu could have a cooler one.

LOL. Also sad: by rejecting his surname and choosing only his given name, Shoto makes a statement. An “I don’t want to be like my dad” statement.

Good I guess? I do kinda know about this one from reading Naruto. It’s a thing in Japanese that I will probably not get well as a dumb American.

Though to be a smart American for a second: Anima...it sounds like he’s talking about that Joseph Campbell theme on anima/animus, male/female, hero with a thousand faces (Just kidding, it’s short for Animal.)

HAHAHAHA OH KACCHAN YOU ECCENTRIC SHITHEAD. Actually, this one is a pretty clever play on his surname in the original Japanese, “Bakusatsuo”. Someone really likes playing on kanji meaning (Deku), doesn’t he? King Explosion Murder is too long and unwieldy, but I think just “King Explosion” or some similar pun could’ve actually worked fine. Just take out the murder part, dumbass.

My favorite one. Meaning: Her surname, her desire to support her parents. Instantly conveys who she is, what kind of hero she wants to be. Perfect.

OMG IIDA FEELS. This plays into his arc in the next story arc, actually. Iida feels he can’t take the name Ingenium until he has done with Tensei couldn’t: kill Stain. And that is why he’s so fixated on revenge. 

And finally DEKU. Which is, yeah, what we call him...it does sound a little odd as a superhero name, though. This is an Izuocha moment I actually, like, BTW. Just nice wholesome friendship. No weird obsessions or comparisons with serial killers. 

Speaking of Uraraka. The Gunhead Agency! You gotta love that Wonder Duo and how they influence people, huh? One fight with Bakugou and she’s all signed up to go be a DBZ fighter. Also, I can see why Kacchako fans are into that. One of Ochaco’s biggest character shifts, and he inspires it. I can dig.

The #1 hero everybody! Hori does try to give a plausible excuse for why All Might forgot to mention Gran among the People Who Know list...then doesn’t bother with it at all when Nighteye comes up. Ah well. I honestly kinda just want the List of People who Know to keep expanding to comedic levels. “Oh and this is my old exgirlfriend who also knows! And this villain! And this random guy! And maybe your mom!”

Speaking of moms, I’m sure Aizawa officially transforms into Class 1-A’s when he tells Ashido not to slur her words. 

The shipper in me wants to gush about how Izuku and Ochaco went to worry about Iida (Iidaraka!) but more sincerely, I want to quickly comment about how well BNHA handles the Power of Friendship. This trope can be so irritating when done poorly, but the friendship in Hero Aca is actually, in my opinion, really realistic. And the power of it is mainly showcased by how friends can simply support and be there for each other, rather than Friendship is the Allmighty Power of the Universe all Will Bow Down Before it. (And also it’s a thing villains can have! And a thing that can fall apart and be unpleasant!)

ANGRY IIDA!

So yeah I really enjoy this episode. It’s not especially deep or heartbreaking (ASIDE FROM TENSEI!!!!) but it’s an enjoyable watch. I’ve actually watched this one a lot because it’s light and fun and something of a one-off. I wouldn’t claim it’s the Best of HeroAca or anything, but It’s an enjoyable ride. Of course, can’t say I’m not more excited to get to next episode. As a big Deku fan(girl), I can tell you my reactions to that one will be something.

BKDK CORNER

Guess who gets paralleled with Izuku’s love interest once again? Seriously, there are a lot of odd, ongoing parallels between Bakugou and Uraraka with their relationships to Izuku, and I’m not sure why if not for subtext. (I want Bakugo’s Ultimate Hero Name to be a play on his first name too. So both members of Wonder Duo have First Name Puns). The OT3 is strong in this one.

My Deku sense is tingling.

BEST GIRL OF THE EPISODE: Iida Mom! (she only appeared last ep but sh)

RANKER: Class 1-A’s Hero Names

21. Pinky

20. Cantstoptwinkling

19. Creati

18. Tenya

17. Shoto

16. Cellophane

15. Deku

14. Bakusatsuo

13. Tentacole

12. Anima

11. Sugarman

10. Chargebolt

9. Invisible Girl

8. Tailman

7. Alien Queen

6. Earphone Jack

5. Tsukoyomi

4. Froppy

3. Red Riot

2. Ingenium 

1. Uravity! (Congratulations Ochaco, you were the MPV of this ep)

[becuzpurple]

Chapter 25, pt. 4 - Promise

Hello!  I know it’s been forever since I’ve posted anything new here.  I promise I’ve been working on things whenever I could, but finding time and motivation has been challenging.

I’m posting a little piece here that continues from where Ed & Kate last left off.  Here is a link to that last piece, in case you need to jog your memory a bit (click here).

I’m really curious to know what you think of where their story seems to be heading.  Personally, I think what they’re planning is a terrible idea...yet i WANT it to happen!  Lol.  Tell me your thoughts!

You know that feedback is everything - please click ‘like’, reblog, and send me comments or questions.  It’s really reassuring to see that my work is at the very least being read, and hopefully some people out there like it, too.

So, without further ado...

Chapter 25, pt. 4 - Promise

“Mmm, so good.”  He had both elbows on the table, resting his chin on his closed fists.  He looked sleepy and satisfied.

“Thanks.”

We were sat at the recently cleared kitchen table, ignoring the pile of dirty dishes in the sink.  Nate and Lucy had been excused from their nightly dishwashing duty because they both had to finish their Science Fair projects due the next day, leaving Ed and me alone in the kitchen.  The aroma of chili con carne still lingered. 

“I never had chili with meat growing up - we were a veggie house.”

“What was that like?”

“It was fine,” he shrugged.  “I didn’t know any different until I was...like, 10.  My first taste of bacon made me a carnivore on the spot.”

“I don’t know if I could go veggie.”

“Ya love meat too much.” 

“You know it.”  I nodded my head, completely failing to keep a deadpan expression.   

He grinned unapologetically.  “Hey, sweet girl.”

Since our blow-up and Big Talk the previous week we’d been a little extra-attentive toward each other - a  bit gentler and more accommodating than usual.  Something had certainly shifted since for us.  It was a good thing - exciting and wonderful, but it was also big and new, and with that came some uncertainty.  So, we spent a lot of time together, quietly strengthening anything that might still have needed a little bit of healing.

“So…” He was a little antsy - his knee bouncing under the table.  “I’ve been thinking.”

“What is it, hon?”

 “You...you’re taking birth control now, yeah?”

“What?”  I glanced out into the hallway where I could just barely see the bottom of the stairs leading up to the kids’ rooms.

His eyes briefly followed mine before he quietly went on.  “You take the pill, right?”

“...yeah?”  I stared at him as he grinned at my puzzled expression.  

“I’ve been thinking...that maybe you should stop.” 

Uhhh…? 

He grinned at my wide-eyed reaction, but he was still rapid-bouncing his knee under the table, so he was maybe a little nervous, too.

“Because...?”

“Well, you know, to start...makin’ babies…?” 

 When I finally picked my jaw up off the floor and found my voice, all I could think of to say was, “...now?”

“Well, not this moment-now, but, I mean…” he shrugged, smirking, still bouncing that knee.

I gave him an eye roll and a nervous grin of my own.  “Jesus, Ed.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said the other night - how you’ve had some trouble...with this, and I wonder if it makes sense to not wait.  Or, at least to not purposely prevent it.”

He’s been thinking about this…  

“You’re serious.”

He nodded, seeming sure of his words, if not of my reception of them.  But then, he’d apparently been thinking it over for nearly a week.   

“Um, wow, I...so many things going through my head right now.” 

He didn’t say anything, but just focusing on his beautiful, tranquil blues calmed me.

“You’re sure?”

He nodded, no hesitation.

“We’re not...married…?”

He nodded again.  “I don’t know what you’ll think of this - it’s just an idea, but…I reckon we don’t need to rush that.  We could...keep on as we are for now, but stop trying to prevent...anything.”  He exhaled loudly before rushing on.  “And I know that’s like, huge, and that’s why I thought maybe we just focus on...one life-changing event at a time.  Shit, I’m really going on.  Am I making any sense?”

“So, you don’t want to get married?  Or…?”  Why am I fixating on the ‘married’ part of this?  Focus on the ‘baby’ part.  Holy shit...

“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying.  I...auggh.”  He nervously ran a hand through his hair.  “Sorry, I’m doing a shit job of this.”  He took a breath and shook his head self-deprecatingly.

“First of all, when I said all that before...about wanting to be a family...complete shit of me to do it like that, during an argument.  It...it wasn’t a lie - I meant it, but it was a dick move, and I’m sorry.”  

“Wait, no, it’s...it’s OK.  You were reacting to me - I was being ridiculous.  You were being honest and were focusing on us staying together.”

He took a measured breath as he studied my face.  I’m not sure what he was looking for, but he seemed to be satisfied with what he saw, because he relaxed, then.  “OK, but my apology stands.” He covered my hand with his and gave a little squeeze.  “And second, just to be crystal clear…”  His words became quieter.  “I absolutely want to marry you one day.”

 Over that last week I’d definitely replayed everything that had been said during our fight and subsequent heart-to-heart - more than a few times, including the part about him wanting us to be a family.  It had seemed too soon to bring that up again, though, and I definitely didn’t expect to be making any decisions about it so soon.  Yet, there we were talking about babies and marriage.  

And, god help me, but I wanted all of it.

He watched me as I stood and covered the few steps to him at the other side of the table and pulled him up out of his chair.  “Come ‘ere.”

He stood, and I couldn’t help grinning as I nodded and finally answered him with a soft “Yeah.”

“To...umm, to which part?”

His ears and cheeks were slightly pinker than usual and his eyes sparkled bright and his whole body seemed like it was about to burst from nervous tension.  I stepped close, our bodies coming together as we wrapped our arms around each other - instinctively seeking and providing comfort and assurance.

“All of it.”

“Holy shit?”  

Still nodding, I brought my hands behind his head, carding through the ginger curls, directing his lips down to mine. In between kisses and grins he murmured, “This went much better than the last time I brought it up.”  

I kissed him once more before answering.  “Well, I’m not having a panic attack this time.  And also your delivery…I mean, it’s improved a little bit since last week.” I bit my lip, suppressing a giggle.

“Fair enough, but practice makes perfect, yeah?  Next time I’ll have it down.”  

“Next ti - ? ...Oh.”   

He kissed me again, a bit more purposefully, and then murmured, “It’ll happen, and properly.” 

“You know I’m holding you to that.”

“Promise, sweet girl.”

Our lips met again, giving physical credence to everything just spoken.  Our bodies were melded together, mouths opening, inviting more intimate contact.

“Ewwww, ohmygod!”  

We each took a hasty step away at the unexpected intrusion.  I may have stifled a nervous giggle as I tried to covertly wipe my mouth while attempting to still appear completely together.  Ed didn’t even try to hide his smirk.

“Heyyy Lu.  What...what’s up?”  My voice was unusually high-pitched.

My daughter was clearly horrified as she darted past us to the fridge, making sure the opened door blocked her line of sight to us.  Her voice came out muffled and terse.  “Nothing!”

Awkward silence filled the air as she rummaged.  I suspect she was debating whether it would be better to keep her head in there forever, or to make a quick exit.  Apparently deciding to get the heck out of Dodge, she grabbed a bottle of water and hastily retreated.  Glancing toward us on her way out, she paused when she saw that we hadn’t really budged from our spots, and arms still draped around each other.

“You’re just gonna...keep doing that?”  

“Probably, yeah,” Ed grinned.  I might have accidentally snort-laughed.  Whoops.

“Ohmygod...” Lucy groaned as she hightailed it back to her room.  We stared after her for a few seconds before returning our gazes to each other, giggles finally spilling over.

“Welp.  I guess she knows we kiss, now.”  Ed’s voice squeaked with laughter as we came together again, just as Lucy suspected we would.

-----

All right folks, there ya have it.  What do ya think?  Terrible idea?  Yay, love?  A little of both?  Please show some love with likes, reblogs, questions and comments, because feedback is everything!

[talldarkandrowdy]

⚰️ + MC lol

(You all hate me don’t you? :D also why is Nadia the one breaking the news again???)When the words Nadia had spoken to him register in his mind, all Julian can feel is cold. Cold with the dark surprise that accompanies slipping on a patch of ice, just a single moment of absolute terror as you realize what’s happening before you finally hit the ground. And all he can think is “no”. They can’t be dead. How is that possible? 

“No.. t-that can’t….”

His voice trails off, the sound dying in his chest before he was able to finish the sentence. There had to be something else to this, some component he was overlooking because there was no way they could be dead. There must’ve been a spell they were put under that made them appear to be dead. And if not that, then there must be some sort of incantation that could bring them back or a faustian bargain he could make to save them. Frantic grey eyes turn to Asra, as if begging for him to say that they could be brought back somehow. If anyone could bring them back, it was him but he’s crying too with hands thrown over his mouth to muffle the sobs that shook his entire body. This was not a challenge to overcome, it was a tragedy. 

Portia approaches the now trembling doctor where he stood, placing a hand delicately on his shoulder while trying her very best not to break down into a fit of tears herself. That gentle touch, as if she knew that he could crumble at even the slightest pressure, is what confirms it all for Julian. The apprentice was dead. 

“N-No… please… not them…”

He begs, but he knows that no one will hear it. Julian had forgotten God’s name a long time ago, or maybe God had forgotten about him. That had to be it, because there was no way he would allow something like this to happen. What benevolent creator would steep someone’s life in tragedy, give them a way out and then rip their salvation away? Why would he be given a candle in the darkness if that candle was only going to be blown out moments later? That’s what the apprentice was to him; his little flame in the dark. They had given him something that Julian had never tasted before. They gave him hope. He hoped for a future, for himself and for the both of them. And now he felt foolish for believing in the existence of phoenixes. He should have known better than to expect anything to rise out of it’s ashes with all the bodies that he had watched burn. The only thing that ever followed ashes was more ashes, more sickening smoke and that empty feeling that came with having your heart torn into a million tiny pieces. 

Julian falls to his knees, unable to stand any longer and Portia is immediately cradling him into her arms. He doesn’t notice, he doesn’t feel any of it. He doesn’t think he’s ever going to feel anything again. Unable to hear his sister’s crying past the ringing in his ears, his eyes fixate on some point off in the distance.

“W-why… why them? It… it didn’t need to be them… why c-couldn’t it have been me? It was supposed to be m-me, wasn’t it? S-So then, why…. ?”

His voice is so soft, almost a whisper and frail with the terror of someone trying to comprehend a pain far beyond anything they had ever experienced before. In that moment, he feels like a child again who’s just discovering for the first time that the world isn’t always a fair or beautiful place. Ugly, terrible things existed in it and sometimes the good guys die while the evil walk freely. But it’s not fair and it’s never going to be fair. Portia’s brushing away tears he didn’t realize were streaming down his face, he couldn’t feel them. 

“I-I didn’t… I didn’t even t-tell them that I-I…” 

Julian’s voice crackles and dies before he can finish, his sentence ending in an agonized whimper. And as regret flares in his chest suddenly he feels too much and the pain is so excruciating that one of his gloved hands claw at his chest like he was having a heart attack. It doesn’t last long, soon everything goes black and he’s lost consciousness. And he hopes that they knew. He hopes that they somehow knew how much he loved them before they died because now Julian would never get the chance to tell them. (HAHA IM SO SAD)