#the idea that a ship is boring once they get together has never made sense to me

[literaryspinster]

"Limoroeau should have been a slowburn!"

We don't see them again until 2025, burn that shit now!

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

DRABBLE: YOU SPEAK HIS NATIVE LANGUAGE TO HIM (18+) (One Piece) (for Fem!Readers)

Writer's Note: I had this idea after remembering that Luffy is Brazilian. Enjoy! And please, PLEASE let me know if any of the foreign phrases used are not correct or accurate. I did the research on Google. Thank you! -Jazz

*********

LUFFY (PORTGUESE) 

You always loved it when Luffy spoke in his native language. 

He is from Brazil and though he hadn’t lived there in years since meeting Shanks and traveling among the Grand Line with the Strawhats crew, nothing and nobody could ever take the Brazilian out of him. It was in his blood. 

He always made it known with the Brazilian recipes he would ask Sanji to make and the music he would blast across the ship. Usually, this resulted in him forcing you to dance him with and holding your hips as his his swayed and rolled in ways that often resulted in your knees going weak and every part of you becoming tingly and sensitive (including the places where Luffy usually had his mouth on). 

He wouldn’t speak Portuguese often; only sometimes and at random moments, like when something exciting happened or when he was asleep. You would catch him mumbling words in his native tongue as he drooled on the pillow, making you giggle.

He would do it during sex too, usually when his tongue was buried deep in your pussy: “Você tem um gosto tão bom, mama. Deliciosa (You taste so good, mama. Delicious.),” he would mumble into your pussy while you whimpered and moaned.

Or when he had his cock buried deep inside of you as he hammered away at your insides, gripping and smacking your ass: “Tão bom! (So good!)” he’d moan into the bedroom. “C’mon, mama, cum with me! Goze comigo!” 

His usual high-pitched voice would get deeper and raspier in his native tongue as each foreign words rolled and flipped on his tongue. It would make you combust every single time, cumming all over his cock at the same time as him bursting inside of you. He would then peck your forehead once you snuggled up together, his hat on your head. “Te amo,” he’d whisper, never telling you what it meant, but you had a feeling. 

So after picking up on some of his lines and inflections, you decided to try out speaking his language one night. It was a boring night and Sanji was cooking, trying to get Luffy out of the kitchen as he groaned and complained about being hungry.

“Y/N, would you please come get him?” Sanji sighed. “He won’t leave and I’m not gonna have him sneaking the ingredients off of the counter to eat.” 

“I’m not gonna do that!” Luffy protested. “I told you so, Sanji!”

You had giggled and walked to the stereo sitting on the table, playing one of Luffy's favorite songs that was popular in Brazil. The captain’s head immediately shot up from the table, his big eyes staring at you. You smiled and began to sway to the music, opening your arms for him. 

With the biggest grin on his face, he shot up and went to you, immediately gathering you into his arms. You giggled as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck and held your hips as he began to sway with you, your senses invaded by nothing but him. He softly sang the lyrics to you, his voice raspy and soft, each word rolling off of the tongue. He sang has if the very song was written for you and you decided now was the perfect moment. 

“Luffy?” you whispered. He pulled away to look down at you, looking like a confused puppy. You cupped his face in your hands and pressed a kiss to his lips before whispering, very low, “Te amo.” 

Once those gears in his head started turning, you’ve never seen him look so happy. His smile grew about ten sizes before he gripped you to him and coated your face in kisses. “Hey, hey!” Sanji yelled. “Not while I’m cooking! Do that outside!” 

ZORO (JAPANESE) 

Compared to Luffy, Zoro barely spoke Japanese. 

He would only mutter his native language in swears when he was stressed or angry. Other than that, you could never catch him doing it. He barely even spoke about Japan as a whole.

“Why you askin’ so many questions?” he would grumble, glaring at your curious gaze. “I haven’t been there since I was a baby. Go read up on it or somethin’.” 

But when he did speak Japanese, and that was very rare, you loved it. His voice would get even deeper when he spoke the foreign swear words during a battle and it would make your heart skip several beats. You wanted to somehow coax him to speak it more or even be closer to him than you already were. 

So you started teaching yourself Japanese. You collected as many language books as you could during your stops on islands when walking into town with Nami and Robin and began practicing. In two months, you began speaking in sentences though not professionally or fluently. However, you got each inflection down. 

The first time you said something in Japanese to Zoro, he was busy working out one hot, boring day and you had wandered in, feeling extra bratty. “What?” he demanded, grunting as he did his bench presses, his muscles bulging and glistening in sweat. 

“Just came to see if you broke up with your dumbbell yet,” you asked sarcastically. “I don’t know how the cuddling at night works, but to each its own.” 

Zoro cut his forest green eyes your way before going back to his exercises, barely pausing. “Woman, if you’re gonna come in here with that shit, leave it at the door. You know I need to focus on my training.” 

“But you’re already so strong, Zo!” you protested, padding farther into the room. “And a great fighter. You can spare one day without training.”

Though Zoro looked pleased with the praise, he still didn’t let up and continued to pump those sexy arms away at his presses. Pursing your lips, you walked over to him and kneeled down before him, just as he lifted the dumbbell up and put it back up on the rack behind his head. 

You began to run your hands up his thick, tree trunk-like thighs in his green slacks, squeezing the muscles and digging your nails deliciously into them. He liked that. He tensed immediately at your touch, breathing heavily from the workout. “Stop that,” he growled. “I’m tryin’ to cool down.” 

“Then let me help you,” you purred, sneaking your hand over his cock to give it a squeeze. You were pleased to find that he was already hard. He grunted at the contact and began to squirm under your touch. “I mean it, Y/N,” he panted. “Cut it out.” 

You looked up at him then, staring boldly into his eyes. "Watashi o tsukuru (make me)”, you said in a low, breathy voice that often made your man go absolutely insane. 

At the sound of his native language coming from your lips, the swordsman sat up straight and stared down at you, astounded and extremely aroused. His cock grew in your hand as a blush appeared on his cheeks.

“What did you say?” he questioned, his voice dangerously low. You just smiled and stood up, tearing your hand away from his cock.

“Now are you gonna spend time with me?” you questioned, a hand on your hip and arching a brow at him. 

While this didn't get him out of the training room, it did help tear him away from his workout to instead work you out, your legs spread over his bench and his cock pummeling your insides as he whispered how good you felt in Japanese.

Mission accomplished. 

SANJI (FRENCH) 

Sanji always felt proud of his ethnicity and heritage, so he always made it a point to speak his native language. 

Like Luffy, it would be at random moments. He could be cooking and would mutter to himself in French about instructions or maybe lyrics to a song.

Sometimes, he would swear if he nearly dropped a bottle of sauce or about the noise Luffy and Usopp would make outside the kitchen door. But always, when he served you and the crew, he would give you all a bright, proud smile and a “Bon appétit!”. 

And always, always, he would speak French during sex. He would whisper in your ear about how good you felt and how sweet you tasted, his words like honey in your ears.

“Je me send is bien en too, princesse, (I feel so good inside you, princess)” he’d moan into the tense, sexed-up air of your bedroom, your ankles on his broad shoulders as his cock stroked your insides. “Tellement parfait. Si belle. (So perfect. So beautiful).”

He would kiss your foot before taking one of your toes into your mouth. 

That would usually set you off like a rocket, making you cum all over the bed and his cock. And because he thought you were so pretty, he would always explode deep inside you, filling you to the brim. That’s part of why he always let his native tongue slip in the bedroom with you. 

Other than the nasty shit, he would always tell you, “Je t’aime”. When he would kiss you; before you went to bed; when you’d separate for an expedition or when when you’d go to the other side of the ship. It was only right as the love chef. “Je t’aime,” he’d say, an adoring smile on his face and hearts in his eyes. It would make you tingle and feel warm all over you. 

So you surprised him one night when he cooked dinner specifically for you before the crew even ate. “Sanji, baby, you didn’t have to make me a whole separate meal,” you giggled as you sat down in the chair he pulled out for you. “I would’ve eaten the lamb!” 

“Nonsense,” he tutted, looking sexy in his apron dusted with flour and spices. “You said you didn’t like lamb too much. And believe me, honey: fixin’ grilled fish for you is nothing compared to what these hooligans want.” He then pressed a kiss to your cheek and whispered, “Bon appétit, my love” before hurrying back to the stove to check the yeast rolls in the oven. 

You stared down at the dinner spread on your plate: grilled fish drizzled in lemon and garlic with a side of honey-glazed, oven-roasted carrots, kus kus, and steamed broccoli. You cut a piece of the fish and put it into your mouth, humming in pleasure at the taste. You turned to Sanji, his back to you, as you gushed over the food. “This food is delicious, Sanji!” you said. "C'est trés bon! (It's very good!)” 

Sanji visibly paused before turning around to look at you, confused. Your smile grew and you lowered your fork. “Mes compliments au chef (My compliments to the chef),” you giggled. Before you could take a breath, Sanji was flying across the kitchen and planting kisses all over your face as you giggled. “Since when do you speak French, my love?” he laughed, giddy. 

“I’ve been practicing,” you hummed, playing with the color of his shirt. “I wanted to impress you.” Hearts in his eyes, Sanji pressed his forehead against yours. “And impress me, you did, mon there,” he murmured. “Now finish that food so I can hear more of my native tongue coming out of those sweet lips.” 

You did and while he had you bent over the kitchen counter while the crew ate in the other room, you repeated one word to him, over and over again, as he pummeled inside of you: “Je t’aime”. 

LAW (GERMAN) 

Law never spoke German. Or at least, not in front of you or the Hearts crew. 

“What’s the need?” he asked when you asked him to teach you something in his native tongue. “I haven’t lived there in years. Why are you so interested in my language anyway?” You would tell him you were curious, but that wouldn’t make him budge. 

You found it sad. Though he claimed he felt pride in his ethnicity and his native land, he barely mentioned his time there or taught you any phrases. So, in order to coax him into it, you fixed him a German dish. One day when the ship docked on a little island, you ran out to town to grab the ingredients for it and fixed it for him that night. It took a lot of preparation and stressing over whether or not he’d respond well to it, but that night, you sat the crew down for dinner. 

“I made something special for y’all,” you giggled, smiling secretively at Law. He scowled in confusion and suspicion at you, not sure what you were up to, until the crew took the silver covers off of their plates to reveal their meal: slices of roasted pork shoulder glazed with a cumin sauce and sitting on a bed of roasted potatoes and peppers. “Ta-da!” you shouted. “Sh-wen-braten!” 

At you mispronouncing the name, the corner of Law’s lips quirked a bit while his crew barely blinked. They were too busy drooling over and gobbling down their food. “Wow, Y/N!” Bepo growled. “This tastes amazing! I haven't tasted pork this good in so long!” 

“Thank you,” you giggled, but your attention was still all on Law as he took a bite. You stood behind his chair, nervously ringing a dish towel around your hands. “How is it?” you asked, bending down to hear him better over the chatter. 

He continued to chew and chew, leaving you in suspense, before he swallowed. “S’good,” he murmured and you sighed in relief. “Though you pronounced the dish wrong.” You made a face, pouting cutely in confusion at him. “It’s pronounced “schweinebraten,” he said, his deep voice rolling over the foreign word.

“Sch.” He paused, waiting for you to repeat it back to him. “Weine.” You parroted him, doing your best to keep from smiling out of giddiness. “Braten.” 

“Braten,” you pronounced, earning a satisfied nod before he turned back around to finish his meal. But you weren't done. you leaned down to his ear, loving how he tensed at your touch and presence. “Between you and me, I already knew how to pronounce it,” you purred. “I just wanted to hear you say it. Guten appetit (Enjoy your meal).” 

Something happened to Law in that moment hearing you speak in his language. His cock swoll in his pants and he nearly broke his fork as he sat rigid in his seat. You turned and walked away back to the stove, swaying your hips and biting back a grin as he watched, wanting to fuck you right there in front of his entire crew and make you say some very nasty words in his native tongue. 

“Law, why are all red like that?!” Jean practically yelled across the table. 

“Shut up!” Law growled as you laughed. He was gonna get you back for that later tonight.

[fortemelody]

I'm bored so imma send an ask but what are your Amy Rose headcanons?

HI HELLO IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE!! i didn’t know how to answer it and then i got busy and then i forgot but i’m here now!

and tbh i still don’t entirely know how to answer it becus im not someone who makes headcannons very often. i usually just see some on my feed and be like “oh yeah that’s so them” and then immediately forget about it LMAO but i do have a couple even tho they are a bit basic and so i’ll try to describe those few in as great detail as possible

knuckles and amy are sibling 100%. they have that dynamic for sure! they train together and they tease each other. amy’s in the small demographic of few people he trusts too. many have also pointed out that they look similar and some people hc her as part echidna which im not really opposed to either

amy and shadow are definitely besties. whenever sonic is too stubborn to do “girly” things such as try on makeup for example, shadow would do that with her instead. he doesn’t care about his public image unlike sonic. music is something that brings them together too, seeing as we already know that they’re both swifties and went to hot honey! and she was the one who brought him back to his senses in the ending of SA2 (which btw im praying that the third movie has that scene aughdkftk). shadow has a clear soft spot for her that can only be brought out by amy. i feel like the next follow up question would be if i ship them and the answer is…not really?! i think it would be a situation where maybe amy is a bit touchy at times without realizing it and shadow blushes, or shadow does stuff to make sonic jealous (to clarify them hanging out in general is purely becus shadow wants to -not just an act so he can get back at sonic- but i think it would be funny if he would take the opportunity to brag about it when sonic gets on his nerves). i do not think either of them would actually date tho even with these one off situations and they are way better as platonic besties fr ong ‼️

this one is a bit random but i’ve always thought of amy being like… a starbucks addicted girly (in the world of mobius- not irl where they could possibly be funding a genocide 😭). and it’s kinda an ironic thing in my mind. yes, she’s the least ordinary girl you could get: wields a giant hammer, incredibly strong, is hyperfixated on and can use tarot cards as weapons, and has an indescribable intuition. however, calling back to the events of SA1, she really is just a normal hedgehog at the end of the day trying to lead a normal life. she had to learn all of these attributes, she wasn’t really born with an ability like the rest of team sonic. she also lived in an apartment for part of sonic x (i think?? haven’t watched the full series and i don’t remember everything) and actually liked it. so i think she would really enjoy simple more earth like customs. i think she honestly might be embarrassed of this fact too, seeing as she’s come all this way in her life just to resort to her old ways of living.

(…okay i’m gonna be honest that last one was a bit of a stretch and it originated from me and my friend calling her a basic white girl at one point as a joke LMAO but then i thought more about it and it kinda made sense once i put it into context)

the last one is a concept i kinda stole from a comic i saw a long time ago (i have no idea of the username- but if someone does lemme know). it was the idea that sonic started liking amy once she had started to move on, how the “chasing” kinda switched roles, and after she dialed down her “fangirling”. how sonic now wants her to be obsessed after she’s made so much progress in being her own person. i kinda wrote a fanfic based off of this and expanded upon my interpretation of it through amy’s POV. although i never posted it, i think the words i chose still capture it well so i’m just gonna copy and paste that:

“When Amy started to slowly change her childish and obnoxious mannerisms towards Sonic, he immediately felt more comfortable around her, and even started subtly reciprocating his feelings to her. Amy was obviously maturing no doubt about it, but she felt as if she had lost a part of herself in doing so. That side of her that would boldly protect and proclaim her love to him. That side to her that wouldn’t stop until she got her way. That side of her that was, as Jewel stated “…constantly following him”. She felt as if she had given up so much of her personality just to feel less incomplete, to have that soulmate she always dreamed about. On top of that, Sonic loved to come and go as he pleases. She knows that he was always going to be the adventuring type, but she wish more often that he would make an effort to chat or to invite her to tag along. Chaos knows when she tries to plan anything with him, she’s too paranoid for her own good, wondering if he’ll instantly interpret it as a date and chicken out.”

-different scene-

“Amy was surely blushing before, but nothing could’ve prepared her for that statement. She felt her heart beating, no, throbbing out of control. She looked like a full on tomato now. It’s always been her dream to dance with Sonic, but in the past he always ran away, so she gave up after several attempts. But this was the “new” her. He liked the “new” her, apparently enough to dance with him.”

(ik a lot of this doesn’t make sense without more context but uhhh this is getting too long already so if you wanna know details just DM me ig 💀)

and if it wasn’t obvious already- i take a lot of what is said in the twitter takeovers, tailstube, and idw comics to heart becus i think they have the most genuine and interesting versions of these characters and tell us about small details that we wouldn’t otherwise know. i not only make this info my hcs but also like to expand upon them and use them in my evidence- so that’s what most of the things i said above are referencing.

sooo yeah i think that’s all i got. sorry i guess a lot of these were more about dynamics of character interactions rather than amy herself… i hope that’s okay! tysm anon this was a lotta fun to answer and i hope to get more of these types of questions!!

[itadoriyuuuji]

tokyo revengers pairings but it’s my thoughts/headcannons

doramai:

-they’re best friends, duh

-we all know how far draken is willing to go for mikey, and it’s amazing.

-personally, i think that if they were in a relationship, draken would be 100x clingier than mikey

-mikey always buys one extra dorayaki for draken, but always ends up eating it anyways when draken passes on it (it’s his master plan. he knew draken would pass)

-mikey always supports drakens dumbass ideas. he thinks it’s funny.

-draken buys mikey a ton of snacks. it’s his only way to get mikey to shut up at times.

-mikey has a thing for playing with drakens hair. he also washes it at times.

-if/when they get together, nobody in the gang is surprised. however, hakkai is surprised it didn’t happen faster.

maitake:

-they’re my top brotp.

-while i don’t see them every having anything romantic, i think if they were too, they’d be insufferable.

-pda. everywhere. no one can escape it.

-takemichi ends up giving mikey more career advice than anyone, however, he really shouldn’t be giving it… (i’m looking you manager-of-video-store.)

mitsukkai:

-literally one of the best duos ever.

-hakkai has every right to be obsessed with mitsuya. i would be too.

-i ship them 100%

-i think hakkai and mitsuya would be great together, however, i feel like they would come to a lot of bumps in the road (a relationship can never be perfect all fo the times).

-i think after the final chapter, it would make sense for them to partner up and for hakkai to use his connections to boost mitsuya’s work.

-going off of the end, i think mitsuya and taiju would work together to torment (no abuse, taiju isn’t abusive in this timeline) hakkai at times. especially with their awful baking skills.

-one time, mitsuya burned his hand making dinner for his sisters, leading to hakkai not letting him cook because he didn’t want taka-chan to get hurt again.

-mitsuya makes hakkai cook since he won’t let him near the stove. hakkai never cooks again.

takefuyu:

-idiot partners in crime

-literally trust each other with EVERYTHING

-half of their texts consist of chifuyu sending takemichi cat memes and pictures of kittens.

-chifuyu helped takemichi plan his real proposal, mostly because takemichi was too much of an idiot to get it done on his own (bless his heart)

-takemichi knows far too much about chifuyu’s dating life (or lack thereof)

bajifuyu:

-first love turned best friend type shit

-baji is chifuyu’s biggest supporter. #1 chifuyu fan right here

-one time, baji tried to visit chifuyu as a surprise. he never did it again, as he got hit in the head with a shoe before he made it through the door.

-baji consistently complains about chifuyu underpaying him at the petshop, prompting chifuyu to stop cooking for him and only cook for kazutora.

-baji once tried to come in between kazutora and chifuyu because he was jealous. he failed miserably. however chifuyu gave him more attention after that.

-baji buys a lot of yakisoba when chifuyu decides to stop cooking for him.

-chifuyu gives baji and kazutora weekly bags of necessities. they can support themselves, but chifuyu has done it for baji since they were younger.

kazufuyu:

-forgiveness is key.

-kazutora is chifuyu’s second biggest fan. he thinks chifuyu hung the stars.

-chifuyu cooks special things for kazutora when he’s having bad days

-one time, kazutora saw his father in public. chifuyu flipped his father off from a far, trying to lighten kazutora’s mood. it didn’t really work.

-kazutora once locked chifuyu out of the pet store to stop him from overworking himself. chifuyu nearly fired him.

-every year for chifuyu’s birthday, kazutora and baji make him a cake. it’s terrible every year, but chifuyu still eats it.

-the day baji tried to surprise visit chifuyu, kazutora was at his apartment. he was the reason the shoe was thrown.

-kazutora sleeps over at chifuyu’s apartment all the time. however, he wakes up far earlier than chifuyu, so he spends most of his time bored in the living room while he waits for his log of a boyfriend to get up.

yuzuhina:

-they’re so cute. not my favorite pairing, but my GOD they are CUTE.

-yuzuha and hina laugh over their idiots together

-one day, yuzuha decided to teach hina how to fight. it worked out fairly well.

-yuzuha and hina go shopping together all the time

-they model for mitsuya and are his biggest hypemen.

-sometimes yuzuha will take hina to the beach just so she can have time away from her family. they aren’t bad by any means, but yuzuha knows first hand that you just have to get away at times.

-yuzuha always takes care of hina when she isn’t feeling well. whether it be that she’s sick or sad, yuzuha is there.

kokonui:

-these two stress me OUT

-they’re soulmates but they can’t be together until they work all of their shit out

-there’s a lot of shit to be worked out.

-in every timeline, koko kind of abandons inupi. let’s have one where he’s ALWAYS by his side.

-inui and koko both need therapy because they’re crazy. they would Literally kill for each other and that’s not exactly okay

-one time, koko had a bit of a breakdown. in this breakdown, he came to believe that no one could ever love him. inui spent months undoing this belief in kook’s mind.

-koko has a tendency to distance himself from inui to “protect” him. inui hates that he does it, and has started to practically attach himself to koko when he tries it.

-as adults, they literally cannot stay mad at each other. any fight always ends fast because they don’t want to be without each other again.

-one night when inupi was working late, koko got restless so he went to the shop. he happened to get there immediately as inupi is walking out. eventually this becomes a habit, as it makes inupi’s walk home less boring.

[k-s-morgan]

Many people share recs with their favorite TV shows, movies or books with me. I'm moving through them slowly, sometimes in a random order, but it's happening, so in this post, I'll cover the shows that were recommended to me and which I’ve watched. I hope you won't get upset or offended if I didn't like the show you recced: after all, such things are impossible to predict! We all have our unique preferences and perceptions.

Now, on to the list and my thoughts:

Stranger Things: Unfortunately, this show didn't work for me. I watched all seasons, but I only enjoyed S1. I appreciated its atmosphere, I liked the characters, and while I didn't think it was anything special, the plot kept me engaged. Other seasons bored me, though, and I found the arcs getting more and more impossible while also staying repetitive.

What We Do in the Shadows: At first, I couldn't get into it, but with each season, my interest increased, and by the end, I grew to love the characters and adore their dumb adventures :D I ship Nandor and Guillermo and I can't wait to see what they do with them in S4. The humor is too sexual for me at times, but once I became fond of these idiot vampires, I started to dote on everything they do. Watching them do nothing but bicker is fascinating now, lol.  

Succession: Oh, this was a hell of a ride. I got second-hand embarrassment so many times that I had to constantly hit pause to scream. Contrary to what I expected, I didn't end up shipping Tom and Greg. I'm interested in their relationship, but Greg is so shallow and his entire personality is basically centered on being embarrassing and greedy - I think Tom deserves better. The complexity, the music (ooh, the music in it), the twists and turns are brilliant, though. I think the show got a little repetitive, but I still enjoyed it a lot and I anticipate the next season.    

Wednesday: Loved it! Which is strange since I was never a fan of the Addams Family. I loved the idea of them, but the execution never appealed to me much. This show is enjoyable, has very good acting, and it presented me with a surprise ship. At first, I thought I’d end up shipping Wednesday with Enid - they have an excellent dynamic of opposites attract, but with each episode, I grew increasingly interested in Wednesday/Xavier. Loved the obsessive element of it and I hope to see more of it in S2.    

Luther: I watched only S1 because unfortunately, this show didn't appeal to me! I felt like it was very disjointed and that there were three writers working on it without consulting each other. Each arc is potentially interesting: brutal crimes, Luther as an explosive, clever, protective but abusive character, and the arc of him and Alice becoming frenemies & perhaps more. But together, they just didn't work in my eyes. Alice's involvement in Luther's life felt awkward and forced; the crimes were astonishingly violent and epic, but their resolutions seemed rushed, trivial and unimpressive; Luther's decisions often made little sense to me, and these three elements didn't seem to mix well. I watched it with my family: my Mom shared my thoughts, but my Dad loved it and he’s watching other seasons right now. 

Interview with the Vampire: YES. I'm a huge fan and I'm thrilled to have found this show. It's clever, intense, and relationship-focused; it has an obsessive, dark romance at the center and every main character is delightfully toxic, twisted and damaged. I only worry about S2 and beyond, but I have faith that everything will remain great.  

Versailles: Absolutely loved it! The first two seasons only, though - I prefer to think that the third one doesn't exist. This seems to be a common opinion among the fans. The music, the characters, their dynamic, the plot and of course the captivating atmosphere of those times... An actor who played Mordred in my favorite 'Merlin' being one of the protagonists was a surprise and made me even more in love. His dynamic with his brother was delightful to watch: it's complex, toxic but also deeply loving. This show is unique in that my most favorite thing about it is a solo character. I grew obsessed with Fabien, a torturer and executioner working for the king. He's perfection, and I would gladly watch a spin-off with him as the central character.

If I forgot some of the shows I watched by accident, I'll make a separate post later on.  

Also, just so you'd know: I don't usually post asks with recs that I haven't tackled yet - they serve as a summary of why I should watch something, but please rest assured that if you sent it, I saw it and added it to my list. When I get to it, I'll post your ask! I'll also start answering questions about the shows you recced and which I've already watched soon.

[tipolover22]

I’m back with more sing headcanons!!!

You all can read my first post HERE! 

Ok, so! Rosita and Buster are def drinking buddies at the local karaoke bar! You all can thank @koalaberightback for that because they made THIS!!!

Buster and Eddie met when Eddie was in his freshman year of college and Buster in his senior. They didn’t meet until the college was putting on a show and the Techies had to meet the Actors. Buster had already met some of the actors, being at the auditions to just watch and all. However, he hadn’t met Eddie until rehearsals and was Immediately appalled by his lack of trying. He especially didn’t like him when he found out he was only in the play because he was Nana Noodleman’s grandson. That’s why he hadn’t seen him at the auditions! Eddie didn’t really have a clue that Buster didn’t like him until Buster made an offhand comment when they were alone once which lead to an argument between them, which lead to an understanding.

The reason we don’t see Eddie in Sing 2 is because after finding a bit of passion as a stage hand, Nana sends him back to school since acting was out of the picture now, but she was happy that he had a passion in the theatre industry anyway. 

Nana paid for Eddie’s college the first time because he was still a teenager not knowing what to do with his life and she thought that, maybe, once he hit a stage, he would find a true passion for acting like she had. That went down the hill though when it was obvious he did not care for it at all. And since he was her only grandchild, she grew bitter towards him since there was nothing for them to bond over on both ends. It was her son that forced them to have a relationship anyway, even if it was a bitter one.

Eddie’s complete disinterest in finding a passion in life is due to the fact that growing up, he would look at all his family members who were rich and successful and wasn’t able to picture himself in their shoes. He would always think he would never be that great or successful, which lead to depression. And that depression left him numb for anything to the point where it was always a burden or annoying when he was forced to try something new when he didn’t want to do it in the first place. He stopped caring about people’s approval and believed he would always just be “the black sheep” of the family. 

In a human au, I’d like to think the Noodleman family is black and that Eddie came out as albino kind giving the term “the black sheep” a little twist. 

After finding his resolve in not caring to impress anyone, Eddie met Buster, who had dreams big enough for the both of them. Though, Eddie sometimes thought they were farfetched. Either way, he sometimes went along with his outlandish ideas because it gave him something to do and gave him more time with Buster. 

It’s Eddie’s plan to have a life with Buster by his side. He finds Buster crazy and fun, something he sometimes needs in his boring life. Because it’s never boring if Buster is there. Which why, in the movie, he wants Buster to sell the theatre so that they could do something together. He wasn’t sure what, though. 

Buster sometimes gets tired of Eddie’s “lazy” lifestyle, mostly because he, himself, has the hustle mentality. But sometimes “lazing about” with Eddie is just what he needs for a new, fresh idea to come by.

Eddie always thought Buster’s love of theatre was something he would get over soon until he bought the theatre. For once, he thought Buster was onto something and would often encourage his parents to sponsor him. But that quickly ended when Buster’s plays all flopped. And it wasn’t until he became a stagehand that he finally felt the love of theatre Buster had. Being behind the stage and watching everything play out perfectly all because of you gave him a sense of pride he had never found before. 

If it wasn’t obvious, I ship these two like fucking crazy!!!

In the present, Buster and Eddie are NOT dating yet, but everyone can tell that they ARE. It’s obvious to everyone but them!

Rosita likes to tease Buster about it, but he never gets the hint.

UNTIL!!! His and Gunter’s show!! Now he’s sort of a Celebrity Broadway wise and the group sometimes has Paparazzi (Especially if Clay is around) The media confuses Eddie for his partner and they both see this and so they’re sort of forced to confront these feelings they’ve been having. 

Before all of that, though, the way Eddie realized his feelings was when he finally hit 35 and his mom was bugging him about finding someone and starting a family, it really surprised him when the first person he could think of to spend his life with was Buster. 

Buster found out his feelings REALLY late. Like, after Eddie went back to college after getting the theatre rebuilt late. Cause now that Eddie was back in school and he wasn’t able to pop up at his place whenever he wanted and was only able to talk to him through the phone, it made Buster realize that he didn’t really like it when Eddie wasn’t there. 

I don’t think Eddie is dumb. He was able to graduate college in canon after all. (Though I headcanon he dropped out of theatre and picked classes his dad wanted) I think he’s smart. He has nothing to do but study. He just doesn’t apply himself because he hates having expectations put on him. And pressure. 

Moving on to one ship to another! Ash and Nooshy started off as a one night stand sort of. The gang was at a bar once and everyone else decided to go home once they hit their limit, but Ash and Nooshy were having too much fun talking with each other. The topic somehow got to exes and Ash is definitely over Lance, but she’s not one to let go of a grudge so easily. (She still won’t go perform in that one club from the movie cause fuck that place) Nooshy, being her chaotic self, suggests in their drunken state that they go and egg his place. Which they do! And when the lights turn on from inside letting them know that their laughter and yells woke him up, they start running as fast as they can, still drunk and stupid. They hide behind and ally, laughing like crazy even though this wasn’t the most illegal thing they’ve ever done. They’re leaning in close, all smiles and laughter, and Nooshy has the bright idea to bring her into a kiss. And they wake up the next morning a bit embarrassed and giggling but not regretful and ready to see where it goes. 

Jumping to the next ship! Ryan asks Johnny out for a drink, which is the date I mentioned in my other post. And Johnny, having only been friends with women really, does not realize all the hugging and hand holding from Ryan is not typical friendship things between men (in our horrible machismo world, unfortunately) And then one day they are out with friends and Nooshy and Ash are holding hands and Meena compliments what a cute couple they are. And Johnny is like “You guys are a couple?” and Ash is like, “We’re holding hands, dipshit”, lifting up an amused Nooshy’s hand that’s connected to hers. And Johnny’s like, “And?! I’m holding Ryan’s!” LETTING EVERYONE KNOW THAT HE DID NOT KNOW THAT HE AND RYAN WERE DATING!!! It hits him a second later what’s going on and Ryan doesn’t know whether to be mortified or amused, but laughter start pouring out of him before he can choose. They need a moment to themselves where Johnny explains himself and Ryan’s completely ok with it.

That’s all I have at the moment now. (This was more of a BusterxEddie post, really) Let me know what you all think!!

[nebulablakemurphy]

Miss American Pie

Chapter Two: The Perfect Partner Project

Warning!: This series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader pairing. Please keep scrolling if that’s not for you. 💜

Summary: After you’re freed from Dreykov’s control you team up with Yelena and Natasha to take down the red room.

Chapter One : Chemical Subjugation

“I thought you had a jet?” Yelena cocks her head to the side, as you approach the decrepit helicopter.

“I asked for one.” Natasha mutters, under her breath.

“This isn’t a jet.” You add, the closer you get, the worse it becomes.

“I realize that!” The man who’d been standing with his back to you whips around to defend himself. This must be Natasha’s friend. “But you know what you didn’t give me? Time. Or money. I’m not made of jets.”

“Aww, he’s sensitive.” Yelena coos, “I see why you keep him around.”

“I’m not sensitive.” He protests.

“Of course not,” you smirk.

“Listen you-“ he breaks off. “Who are you again?”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” Yelena introduces you, climbing aboard. “She’s my partner….” She shrugs, “you name it really.”

“Partner works.” You chuckle, joining her in the cockpit.

“If you say so,” Yelena waves a dismissive hand. Getting a feel for the controls.

“Wonderful,” the man acknowledges your title.

“Thanks for the ride, Dick.” You salute him through the front window.

“It’s Rick,” he calls back.

“I know.” You give him a thumbs up. Waiting until he turns back to his conversation with Natasha. Taking the opportunity to lean down, kissing the top of Yelena’s head.

She cranes her head back to see you.

You nuzzle your nose against hers, until an exaggeration throat clearing tears you apart.

“We don’t have time for this.” Natasha, of course.

Yelena scowls at her, “yeah, yeah.”

Breaking Alexei out of a maximum security prison using only an earpiece, stowed inside of an action figure is a terrible plan. Nearly as bad as using him for information on how to locate a facility that’s impossible to find, run by a man who’s too slippery to kill.

That doesn’t stop you though. Generally speaking it’s going well. Until one of Yelena’s shots triggers an avalanche.

“Woah.” She marvels at the scene before you, her masterpiece. “Now this would be a cool way to die.”

“Yeah,” you holler back, sarcastically, over the chaos.

“You were getting no where with your tiny guns.” Yelena points out.

“Slow and steady wins the race,” you remind her.

“Fast is better. Solves problems.”

“And clearly creates new ones.” You jerk your chin toward the mountain.

“Get us out of here!” Natasha’s voice blares through the headset.

“I’m on it.” Yelena assures her. Moving into a better position for extraction. “Watch the side window.”

At her request you shuffle to the main ship. The prison guards are still putting up a fight. Inmates running in every direction.

“Alright, Natasha’s with us.” You confirm, once she’s secured her place on the black hanging rope. “Circle between the walls on your left to grab Alexei.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Yelena snarks, steering the plane away from another explosion.

“You’re doing a great job.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“Fine,” you huff. “The spot is tight and the angle is bad. I don’t know how you’re gonna pull this off.”

Yelena is silent, processing the information. “Lie to me a little.” She amends.

“You got this.” The blinding wall of white threatens to swallow Alexei whole. You’re holding your breath too as the rope moves past the metal bridge he’s standing on.

“Well?” She yelps, impatiently.

“I don’t know. I can’t see.” Once the snow and ice clears, you spot two figures carefully scaling the rope. “Yelena?”

“Hmm.” She hums, expecting the worst.

“I knew you had it.”

“Yes,” Yelena sighs, before falling into easy laughter. More invested in this than she will ever admit.

————————————————————-

Unfortunately, entertaining as Alexei may be, he has next to no information about Dreykov.

Instead he drawls on and on about how the man wronged him. Stuck him on that “boring mission” in Ohio. Then tossed him in jail and threw away the key because of…hair? A party?

You weren’t entirely sure. You excuse yourself to the vacant seat beside Yelena. Giving her thigh a reassuring squeeze.

Full lips twitch up into a grin.

“Tell us where the red room is.” Natasha grumbles.

“I have no idea!” He shouts, and then in Russian. “Why don’t you ask Melina?”

“Mom Melina?” Yelena whips her head around.

“We thought she was dead.”

“You cannot kill a fox that swift,” Alexei sucks in a breath.

You choke on your own saliva.

“Ew.” Natasha winces.

“What?” The man shrugs. “She was the master mind. His architect.”

“Are you telling me that Melina works for the red room present day?” Natasha leans closer.

“Yes,” he nods. “Remotely, outside Saint Petersburg.”

“I don’t think we have enough fuel for Saint Petersburg.” Yelena decides, after checking the needle on the gauge.

“We’ll make it.” Alexei waves away her concern.

“Ok,” Yelena mutters.

You look over at her.

“We’re not going to make it.” She mouths, with a shake of her head.

You smirk, closing your eyes and relaxing into the seat. It’ll be nice while it lasts.

Before long you’re falling into a controlled crash, at the Saint Petersburg city limit.

“So,” Yelena jumps out onto the dirt. “Are we there yet?”

“No, you will know when we are there.” Alexei begins snorting like a pig.

——————————————————————-

You take a seat in the chair opposite Yelena inside Melina’s humble abode. Her pigs can be heard carrying on out in the yard and Alexei’s early snorting makes perfect sense now.

Your eyes dart around the three women at the table uncomfortably as noises continue erupting from the bathroom. “Everything alright in there?” You bellow, loud enough for your voice to carry down the hallway.

Another groan is the only response.

“Let’s drink,” Melina’s voice breaks the tension. She fills each of your shot glasses in turn.

“Thanks,” you raise the clear liquid and toss it back. Feeling it burn it’s way down your throat before going back for another.

After a moment a clunking from the doorway calls your attention.

“It still fits.” Alexei announces, having stuffed himself into his old costume.

Melina whistles, with a slow clasp as he approaches the seat at the head of the table. “I never washed it once. Come eat.”

He hums a tune under his breath, reliving days gone by. “Look at us, family back together again.” If you didn’t know better you’d think it was sweet, he seems…happy.

“Well,” Melina swallows, dishing mashed potatoes onto his plate. “Seeing as our family construct was just a calculated ruse that only lasted three years, I’m not sure we can use this term anymore.”

“Agreed,” Natasha perks up. “So here’s what’s going to happen-“

“Reunion then.” Alexei offers instead. “I want to say something right off the bat.” He says to the woman who’d once been his wife. “You haven’t aged a day. Just as beautiful and supple as the day they staged our marriage.”

Melina moves closer, “you got fat, but still good.”

“I just got out of prison,” he confesses, “I have a lot of energy.”

“Ooohooo.” The older woman exhales.

You can’t help the bubble of laughter that forces its way from your chest. Covering your mouth with your hand as Yelena takes another shot.

“Please don’t do that.” Beside you Natasha looks physically ill as she protests. Swallowing down her disgust she begins again. “So listen. Here’s what’s going to happen.”

“Natasha don’t slouch. You’re going to get a back hunch.” Melina flicks her fork in Natasha’s direction.

“What? I’m not slouching? I don’t slouch.”

“Eh, listen to your mother. Up! Up!” Alexei joins in.

“I told you, I don’t want any food.” Yelena pushes her plate away.

“Eat a little something Yelena, for God’s sake.” Melina says, piling food onto her plate.

Yelena groans.

“Are you kidding me? Stop it all of you. This is ridiculous.” Natasha bites out.

“Me? I didn’t do anything. That’s not fair!” Yelena argues.

“It’s true, she’s just sitting there.” You shrug.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Natasha roars, effectively silencing the room. “You’re going to give us the location of the red room.”

Melina purses her lips, avoiding the topic. “It’s like when you told them they could stay up to catch Santa Claus.”

“That was fun!” Alexei recalls. “Look out girls, he comes down the chimney. And when the cookies are gone you know he is there.”

Melina clicks her tongue.

“What? I want them to follow their dreams, shoot for the stars girls.”

“No good.” Melina disagreed.

“Killing Dreykov isn’t a fantasy. It’s unfinished business.” Natasha looks between the two of them.

“You cannot defeat someone who commands the very will of others.” Melina says, softly. “You never got to see the culmination of what we started in America. After the perfect partner project was rejected, we took a different route.”

“The perfect partner project?” You repeat, racking your brain. You’ve heard that somewhere before.

“Why’d Dreykov scrap the project?” Natasha’s voice cracks like a whip.

“I don’t know.” Melina’s eyes dart down to her plate.

You can see that she’s lying.

“That’s when we turned our focus to chemical subjugation.” Melina continues, “the control is so profound that when the subject is instructed to stop breathing. They have no choice but to obey.”

Yelena shakes her head. Perfect lips turned into a frown. Hazel eyes glistening with tears as they meet your own.

“That’s enough.” You warn the older woman, seeing the expression. The last thing you want to do is cause her anymore pain.

“No.” The blonde insists. “Tell me more about the partner project.”

“Yelena, we don’t have to do this.” You shake your head.

“Yes, we do.” Yelena slams her fist against the table in frustration.

“The extraction was messy to start. A high profile missing children’s case in North America. But the bond was very strong. Enhanced through targeted conditioning and subliminal messages. Until something happened that Dreykov did not anticipate.”

“What happened?” Natasha wonders.

“The girls became…attached.” Melina’s mouth twitches, “so they were separated.”

“Do you know who they tested on?”

Melina’s guilty eyes land on you. “I am sorry.”

“No,” you suspected, maybe. Somewhere in the back of your mind. You spent the first six months in the red room under solitary confinement. Rapidly and rigorously conditioned in a matter of weeks instead of years. Preparing you…for her. The teenager girl you couldn’t stand, the woman you eventually came to love.

“You,” Yelena laughs, although it’s not particularly funny. “Us.”

“Yelena-“ you reach for her hand across the table.

“Don’t,” she snaps. “Don’t tell me that it will be ok. They stole your life because of me. I never asked them to do that. I never asked for you!”

“I know.” You assure her. None of this was ever her fault.

“That’s right, because you know everything. Don’t you, Y/N?” Yelena scoffs, her hands balling into fists on either side of her dinner plate. “You know what I think. You know what I feel. Look at you. Ready to come out of your own skin because I am unhappy. Prepared to move mountains, prepared to start wars.”

“Like you’re any better.” You challenge, she knows you like the back of her hand.

“That is my point!”

“I’m sorry that this happened.” Alexei interrupts. Surely gearing up for a ‘father of the year’ speech. “But we are here now. All together! Wasn’t that worth a few years of-“

“Shut up!” Natasha growls at him. “You are an idiot.”

No response.

She moves her attention to Melina, “and you’re a coward. You’re a coward. And our family was never real. So there’s nothing to hold on to. We’re moving on.”

“Never family, huh?” Alexei throws up his hands. “In my heart I am simple man. For a couple deep undercover Russian agents I think we did pretty great as parents.”

“Yes,” Melina nods her agreement. “We had our orders and we played our roles to perfection.”

“Who cares? That wasn’t real.”

“What?” Yelena’s voice breaks.

“That wasn’t real.” Natasha repeats for emphasis. “Who cares?”

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that. It was real. It was real to me. You are my mother!” Yelena all but sobs. “You are my real mother, the closest thing I ever had to one. The best parts of my life were fake.” She pauses, drawing in a steadying breath. “And none of you told me.”

You swipe at the tear that escapes your eye. Traitorously running it’s way down your cheek. It was never fake. Perhaps arranged, but never fake. The way you want to wrap her up in your arms, protect her from her own sadness. The way your heart breaks in time with hers. That is real. It has to be.

She turns back to the woman who she considered a mother. “Those agents that you chemically subjugated around the globe…that was me too.”

Finally she addresses Natasha, “and you. You got out. It is impossible to escape. Are you going to say anything?” A pause. “No.”

She pushes her chair from the table, taking the bottle with her as she stands. Turning her back in the four of you.

“Yelena.” Natasha calls after her. Guilt eating away from the inside out.

“No.” Yelena dismisses her a second time. Moving into the next room and closing the glass doors behind her.

You look down at the plate of food in front of you, now lacking any appeal.

“I had no idea.” Melina whispers, wringing her hands.

“I’ll go to talk to her.” Alexei offers, rising to his feet.

“About what?” You hum, “how you handed her over to a life of pain and suffering at the age of six? How you experimented on her? How you didn’t come back for her? Yeah. I’m sure that’s just what she needs right now.”

With that you excuse yourself, back out to the front yard. Slowly circling the perimeter of Melina’s cottage. Not looking for anything in particular. Just killing time until someone produces information about how to get to Dreykov.

The blinding light that appears moments later catches you off guard. A team of men exit one of the three circling planes. Since you couldn’t find the red room, this is the next best thing.

—————————————————————

Waking up is disorienting, coming to from a tranquilizer always is. It’s bright, almost blindingly so. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. You attempt to use your hands to cover them, only you can’t move your hands.

Leaning up as much as your restraints will allow you discover that you’re strapped to an operating table. And you’re not alone.

“Yelena?”

“Miss American Pie,” she drawls from a similar position. Neither of which gives you much chance to escape whatever fate awaits.

“You’re not allowed to die mad at me,” you grumble.

“I’m not mad at you.” She blinks slowly, as the surgeon marks a clean line at the perimeter of her hairline. “I’m just mad.”

“Yeah,” you let out a laugh, turning back to the light above the gurney. “Me too.”

“You are my perfect partner.” She murmurs, while gloved hands busy themselves with preparations. “I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”

There’s a beat of silence between you. Acceptance…peace. “I love you, you know.”

At this Yelena smiles. A genuine, happy, smile. “I know.”

Something to remember her by.

The syringe at your neck releases a sedative into your blood and you fall asleep. One last time.

—————————————————————

Dying is peaceful, gently rocking in the ocean. Then swaying more violently, giving you the urge to be seasick. Your body should move with the force of it. But something holds you steady, something warm.

“Yelena?” You croak.

“Not quite, but there is resemblance, huh?” A different voice greets you.

“Alexei?” You realize, pushing yourself into a sitting position.

“That’s a girl, up you go.” He says, clapping a hand against your back.

“What happened?” You ask, “where’s Yelena?”

“Still inside,” Melina confirms. “Brought you here so you’d be safe.”

“Natasha?”

“They’re coming.”

You sigh, ready to jump out the open door of the hovering chopper.

“What are you doing?” Alexei demands.

“Going to find them.”

“Wait! Y/N, wait.” He pleads. “There’s something I must tell you. I tried to tell Yelena but I don’t have earpiece.”

“What?” Your brows furrow.

“Never mind that.” He shakes his head. “The point, is you were right. What you said about Yelena. We complete our mission, we move on. But losing her, losing my girls is my biggest regret.”

“I’ll tell her, don’t worry.” You give his shoulder a squeeze.

“Please let me finish.” He stops you again. “She carried your unconscious body through burning building, through explosions. This is not easy, you are very heavy.”

“Oh, Alexei!” Melina scolds him.

“Not that.” He amends, “you know what I mean. It is dead weight.”

You nod, “sure.”

“I look at you together and I see true love and I am happy. You are family now, and this time…we are going to stay together. We’re not leaving without you.” The older man says, helping you onto the metal grate of the falling red room.

Not a second later an explosion rings through your ears, sending Melina, Alexei and your get away vehicle spiraling to the ground.

“It’s the thought that counts,” you’ll make a new plan.

You run toward the flames and gunfire. “Yelena!” You call out, searching the surrounding area.

“Y/N,” Natasha finds you. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t find Yelena.”

“I thought she was with you.” The woman frowns.

“Well she wasn’t!” You bite out, fear and frustration getting the best of you.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find her. You go-“ the red head pauses. Her eyes focused on something behind your head.

You turn to follow Natasha’s gaze. Finding her. Yelena. The wild, unpredictable, firecracker of a woman. On the wing of the jet with Dreykov inside.

“Yelena! Stop!” You rush over, realizing what she’s about to do. Her staff poised at the propeller.

She pauses at the sound of your voice.

“He’s not worth it.” No one is worth it. Not when she is the cost.

Yelena smiles, eyes alight with mischief, “I love you, you know.”

“I know.”

Natasha tries to reason with her. “Don’t do it!”

“This was fun.” Yelena tells her sister, jamming the propeller and effectively destroying Dreykov’s jet. The force of the explosions sends her backwards, hurtling towards the ground with the remaining pieces of the red room.

“Put your pack on and jump.” Natasha tells you. Rushing for the nearest parachute. “I’m going to save my sister.” She dives head first over the edge, without putting on her harness.

“Not if I get there first,” you challenge. This would be a cool way to die.

Chapter Three: Bye Bye

[kanonsarchivedblog]

Burn For You

Word Count: 5856 Genre: Smut Rating: E Characters: Uchiha Madara, fem!Senju Tobirama, Uzumaki Mito (briefly) Ship: Uchiha Madara/Senju Tobirama Warnings: Unprotected Sex Author's Note: You can read it on my ao3 here! This was inspired by Burn For You by Abigail Barlow! It suits Tobirama and Madara really well, imo. Also, this was just fourteen pages of smut. I hope you all enjoy this! ━━━━━━━━━━━━ It all started with a confession.

“I burn for you.”

The admission had taken her off guard. She’d agreed to stay behind after a meeting, going over the development plans for the Nara clan to settle in the North Eastern part of the village outside of the gates so that their deer would have plenty of space to roam and not fear the wrath of hunters. Madara had additional ideas that needed to be looked at by a different pair of eyes- constructive criticism before presenting it officially to the council. The night had grown long, the candles burned so long that they were more melted wax than actual candles. She’d ended up sitting atop the table, her legs crossed as she read over Madara’s ideas, comparing them with her brother’s. Truth be told, Hashirama seemed to be distracted- his plans were barely finished, whereas Madara’s were completely finalized. It was nice to see work actually getting done.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I might just think you actually fancy me, Uchiha,” Tobirama had taunted, a smirk curling wine colored lips as she glanced over. However, unlike their normal banter, he hadn’t responded. “... That was a joke. You’re supposed to laugh now. Ha-ha.” She mumbled, lips turning down into a pout as she turned her gaze back to the papers.

“Senju.” His voice was soft, low- nearly resembling a growl as he stepped closer. Instinctually, her legs spread slightly, the cloth of her kimono parting with the movement, feet barely meeting the ground. Prepared to run, to bolt, Madara noticed. Or perhaps to fight, with how her hands gripped the edge of the table. “You’re a nuisance, you realize that, yes?”

“A nuisance?!” She exclaimed, eyes widening in surprise. “You've some nerve, calling me- what are you doing?” All heat vanished as he settled between her spread thighs, his hands braced upon the wood of the table on either side of her hips. “Madara, are you ill? Is something the matter?” A hand reached up to touch her wrist to his forehead to see if he’d come down with a fever, only for his hand to capture it-

And press a searing kiss to her wrist.

“I burn for you,” he murmured against the pale skin, lips brushing so gently, delicately- as if afraid that the mere movement would cause her pain. “I burn for you, day in and day out.”

“Madara-” her voice was barely above a whisper, chest rising and falling quickly as her heart began to race. When he looked up at her, her breath halted all together: three black tomoe stood out against ruby irises, yet she could not look away. Heat gathered in her cheeks- and lower, much lower, to her own embarrassment. “This is- inappropriate.” Even so, she did not pull her hand away.

She leaned closer.

That is, until the sound of footsteps approaching had Madara backing away, Tobirama cradling her wrist delicately as the door opened, revealing Mito. “Pardon the intrusion,” she murmured, giving a small bow. “My husband forgot his files, and instead of coming back himself, he sent me.” A sharp roll of the eyes showed her annoyance, even if her smile was soft.

“You could have told him to fuck off,” Tobirama stated simply, shoulders rising in a shrug.

Mito let out a bark of laughter at her sister-in-law. “I think that would have given him a heart attack!” Shaking her head, she flashed the pair a smile before turning on her heel. “Don’t work too late, you two.”

“We won’t,” Madara called after her, though his gaze was trained on Tobirama. The only way she could describe what she saw in his gaze was hunger. Pure hunger.

A fire had been started- and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to douse the flames, or fan them.

“We should… Head home for the night, yes?” Tobirama asked, scooting off of the top of the table to settle her feet on the floor once more, gathering her scrolls. She could sense Madara lingering behind her, yet he did not touch. His gaze was akin to their famed fireball jutsu, scorching the back of her neck. “Do get some rest, Madara.”

“You as well,” Madara murmured, though he made no move to follow her out of the door. Her footsteps were calm at first, until she was outside of the Hokage’s office. Only then did she sprint, pressing chakra into her legs to make her move faster, to get back to the Senju compound quicker. Alone, she needed to be alone to process what just occurred. ━━━━━━━━━━━━ That had been a fortnight ago. Ever since, she’d been busy overseeing the building of the Nara compound while Madara saw to his own clan, making sure they were comfortable as the Uchiha compound began to expand. And every night since, her thoughts had been consumed with the feeling of his lips against her skin, his gaze boring into her own, the feeling of his hips settled between her thighs-

A sharp shake of the head causes wild snowy locks to sway with the movement. Not now, not while she’s reading reports. Even so, her foot tapped on the floor, a movement that spoke volumes of her unease, her need to get up, to demand to know why he’d done it. His office was across from her own. All she’d need to do is rise from her desk, walk across the hall, and demand an answer.

Burn for you.

The words held weight, especially for an Uchiha- known for their innate ability to control fire. To burn for someone is to be completely overwhelmed by the flames of passion, of lust. To think only of them.

Her thighs pressed together beneath her desk.

“Fuck,” she groaned, leaning back in her chair, head flopping back as her eyes closed. This was annoying, she decided. A nuisance. Yet, the Uchiha had kept her thoughts entertained. The night prior had been spent with her face pressed to her pillow, her hand between her thighs, working herself over and wishing it had been something much thicker.

The current bane of her existence knocked on the door before opening it, his gaze settled upon the paper he held. “Did you know that Hashirama put in for an expansion of the Senju compound?” He asked, annoyance clear in his voice as Tobirama forced herself to focus.

“I had no idea,” she replied dryly, her brow furrowing. “We don’t need more space. We’ve got plenty already.” Her gaze drifted, studying Madara for a moment. He wore no armor- they never did when in office. The summer yukata did little to hide what lay beneath.

Perhaps that was why her underlings were so distracted.

“Hm,” a sigh escaped his lips as he set the paper down onto her desk, only to pause for a moment. “Can we speak?”

“We’re speaking now.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m afraid you’ll need to be a bit clearer.”

“About what I said.” Madara caved, shaking his head at the Senju. “It was uncalled for, and I was out of pocket-”

“Tonight,” Tobirama cut in, raising a hand, causing Madara to pause. “Meet me in my quarters tonight, and we will talk about what you said. Not now- I’m busy.”

“Busy.” He repeated, gaze trailing over the stack of papers to be signed. “Right. Tonight, then.”

“Tonight,” Tobirama agreed, her gaze never lifting from her paper. “You’re dismissed.”

“Dismissed?! I-”

“Out of my office, Uchiha.” She snapped, feeling a touch smug as Madara turned on his heel and marched out, all but slamming the door on his way out. A snort escaped her as she leaned back. Tonight, they would speak. Tonight, the truth would come out- one way or another.

The day had passed quickly, leaving her spinning in the aftermath. Tobirama drug a hand through her hair, down from it’s normal high ponytail, the wild, curling tresses free for once. Her footsteps carried her across the room in a quick pace, her heart a staccato beat within her chest. Any moment now, she’d be able to feel the familiar flicker of Madara’s chakra entering the compound. To the East, Mito sat with Hashirama- no doubt the pair beginning to bed down for the night.

There, at the southern edge- the flicker of warmth, of red-tinged chakra that felt like standing too close to a bonfire. Her breath skipped a beat as she turned, studying her reflection in the mirror across from her bed. The sleeping yukata did little to give modesty. In a last moment effort to try to compose herself, she snags a robe and quickly ties it around her waist.

The sound of footsteps had her turning, studying the door the moment before it opened, revealing Madara. “Right on time,” she commented idly as she reached back, pulling her hair out from beneath the robe, inadvertently causing the fabric of both robe and sleeping yukata to rise.

“I hope it’s not too late?” Madara asks, head tilting, gaze drifting to the pale skin that was revealed. The barest hint of red on those thighs- did the tattoos stretch that far down? “I’m afraid I was caught up in clan business.”

“Not too late at all,” Tobirama replies with a shake of her head. “Please, come in- close the door, too?” She adds as an afterthought, moving to where she’d set up sakazuki. Her room was nice- it got the morning sun, and the afternoon shade, causing it to be cooler compared to the other sections of the compound’s main house.

Madara walked over to the low table, settling down into an improper sitting position, crossing his legs. Tobirama settles across from him, easing herself into a polite seiza, though the yukata and robe part to reveal how her thighs press together. Such pale skin… “I’m surprised you would even want to meet to discuss what was said,” he commented idly, head tilting as his gaze tracked her movements; sake was poured first for him, and then for herself. “I’d figured you’d want to ignore it.”

“Why ignore it,” she asked as she raised her sakazuki to her lips, careful not to spill a single drop, “when it’s the truth for myself as well?”

Madara nearly choked on the sake- and not from the taste. “Pardon?” He asked, blinking rapidly. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

“How did you phrase it?” Tobirama’s head tilts, her gaze narrowing, ruby hues settling upon Madara’s face- flushed, eyes wide, caught off guard. “I burn for you.”

“You burn for me?”

“I burn.”

“You… Burn,” he murmured, gaze growing heavy- hungry. “For me.”

“I burn, day in and day out,” she nodded, sipping her sake once more. “I would be lying if I said I hadn’t envisioned you in my quarters.”

A moment of silence passed before Madara was reaching across the table, taking hold of the collar of her yukata to tug her over, their lips meeting in a kiss that was equally teeth and lips. Biting, hungry, her hands reached up to tangle in wild dark locks, tugging none-too-gently. A groan spilled free from Madara as he pulled back, her lip caught between his teeth in a gentle bite before he released her.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve pictured this moment,” his words were barely above a growl as Tobirama rose to her feet, the robe discarded, the collar of her yukata disheveled, baring a pale collarbone and shoulder. “How many times I’ve thought of you in my own quarters.”

“I think mine are more comfortable,” she teases as she settles atop his lap, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, her nails gently scraping at the back of his neck. “After all, my bed is made to fit… Multiple.”

Multiple. Oh. Madara’s gaze grows distant as he envisions just what she insinuated for a moment, lips parting slightly. “Multiple.”

“Come now- you didn’t take me for a prude, did you?” She murmured, leaning in to kiss along his jaw, lips trailing up to his left ear. “After all, you just admitted that you’ve thought of me. Tell me, Madara- what have you thought of? What positions?” The shell of his ear is nipped before he reaches up, gripping her jaw to tug her head back.

“Do you truly want to know?” He asks, leaning back as if surveying her. His other hand reached up to brush her hair back from her face before his fingers began to drift, tracing the collar of her yukata slowly, gently nudging the fabric to cause it to fall back, baring more pale skin and red ink.

Such flimsy things, yukata.

“Senju Tobirama wants to hear how I’ve thought of her at night?” His fingers leave her jaw to brush knuckles gently against her cheek. “How I’ve thought of her on her knees beneath my desk, her lips around my cock? Or how I’ve pictured her laying on her back, pleasuring herself in front of me?” His lips quirked into a smirk as Tobirama whined softly at that, her eyes fluttering shut. “Or how I’ve spent so many nights picturing you laying beneath me, begging for my cock, begging for me to fuck you harder, faster?”

“Please,” she whispered, eyes opening into slits, her cheeks flushed. “My fingers could never be enough.”

Fingers. Her fingers? Oh- oh, a groan spilled free as he leaned in, stealing a kiss that had Tobirama’s head swimming. His hands smoothed down her back, pulling her closer, causing her to rise onto her knees. No words were exchanged as his hands slipped to grip her thighs, holding her up as he rose to his knees, then his feet.

Huh. Tobirama pulled back from the kiss to glance down at the floor for a moment. “... One day, take me against the wall.” She spoke quietly, as if to herself, though it got a chuckle out of Madara as he carried her to her bed.

It was large, he noted- larger than his own. “Anywhere you want,” he murmured as he settled her down, not bothering to part as his lips began to kiss and bite a scorching trail down her neck. “Your office, mine- my compound- wherever you want, just say the word.” A soft moan filled the air as his hand came up to settle atop her left breast, gently massaging through the fabric of the yukata. Her hands tangle in his hair as she keens, her eyes closed, head tilted back against the pillows. He pulled back long enough to make quick work of the tie that held the yukata together before parting the thin fabric, baring Tobirama to the chill of the room. She doesn’t cover herself.

No, her legs settle down against the silken sheets. Nothing beneath. Oh, she’d been prepared for this! The realization draws a chuckle from him as his hands smooth across her thighs, marveling at the way the red ink settles into her skin. Her chest- oh, how it encircles both breasts, ending in a circle in the center of chest. The bands around her biceps, encircling her shoulders, how they encircle her throat. That’s why she preferred the high mandarin collars. The ink stretches further down, encircling both thighs. His fingers trace their paths, drawing forth gentle shudders that dance across her skin.

“Beautiful,” Madara whispers, leaning down to press a kiss in the center of the circle that laid upon her chest. “Every inch.”

“Who knew you’d be a sap?” Tobirama teased, though the flush in her cheeks gave away how affected she was by his ministrations- and the slickness between her thighs.

She receives no verbal response; instead, he continues to kiss a trail lower, feeling her stomach tense beneath his lips. A smile curls them as he glances up, meeting her gaze the same moment his tongue lolls out, dragging a slow trail back up towards her chest. His lips enclose around her right nipple as his fingers begin to toy with the left, pinching gently the same time his teeth graze against the other.

“I always- oh- knew you had a thing for breasts,” Tobirama snickers before flinching at the swat he gave to her thigh. Huh. “What with how much you try to- watch your damned teeth-” another swat, though he pulls back from her breast, “-try to peek down my clothes.”

“What can I say?” Madara muses, a cheeky grin curling his lips as he leans in to steal a kiss, his hand soothing the area he’d swatted mere moments before. “I’m a simple man with simple likes.”

“Gross.”

“Fuck off.”

“Take your yukata off and I will,” Tobirama mutters, reaching out to drag her nails down the portion of his chest that was revealed. “I’ve always wondered if you’ve got the dick to back up how cocky you are.”

“You little shit,” he hissed, falling for her words as he made quick work of his yukata, leaving him in his undergarments- which hid nothing, Tobirama noted, her eyes widening in surprise. “Ha! See? I can actually back my shit- oh,” whatever he’d intended to say died on his tongue as Tobirama had reached out, palming at him through his underwear, her eyes wide in curiosity.

Wordlessly, she sat up, gaze intense as she leaned in to lick a slow line down the center of his abdominals- a mirror of what he’d done to her, he realized belatedly. “Lay down,” she murmured against the sensitive skin of his stomach. He obeyed, settling back against the large bed, hair spreading out beneath him like a dark halo. She went to crawl between his legs, only for Madara to grunt.

“No.”

A blink. “Why not?”

“Come here.”

“Wh- oh.” Realization struck, and her cheeks burned as she swallowed roughly. “Right,” carefully, as if afraid she’d somehow crush him, she crawled up and turned. It was an intimate position, one that she didn’t often find herself in with her previous partners, yet Madara didn’t complain. This way, it left them both open- vulnerable, but gave her the perfect angle to reach out and tug his underwear down far enough to free his cock. “... Are all the Uchiha built like this?” She asked, half joking as she gazed down at it.

She couldn’t lie- it wasn’t a bad dick. Not at all- no, it was veiny, but not outwardly awful to look at. Thick; the stretch would hurt, she had no doubt about that. But a part of her thrilled at the idea of the pain. A jolt danced through her, drawing forth a startled gasp at the feeling of his tongue licking a slow stripe up her slit. “No, we aren’t,” he finally answered as his hands raised, settling on her most intimate part and spreading her wide. “I’m just fuckin’ lucky.”

Her eyes rolled, but any retort she had died the moment his tongue pressed against her clit. Gaze closing, she enjoyed the feeling for a moment longer, hips grinding back against his mouth, moans spilling free. Damn him- he was talented. Perhaps the rumors she’d heard were true. Reaching out, she cupped his cock, giving a light stroke before leaning forward, tongue lolling out to give sweet kitten licks at the head, enjoying the way his thighs tensed at the feeling. Two could play at this game, she decided as she opened her mouth wider, taking the head in to suckle on.

Madara groaned against her, lips closed around her clit before he pulled back for a moment, letting his thumb circle her clit in quick, tight circles. “What, is it too big for you?” He teased, only to eat his words a moment later as wet heat encircled over half of his length-

And she swallowed around him. His head fell back against the pillows, a groan filling the room as she began to bob her head in earnest. His fingers didn’t pause, tormenting her clit. Neither would last like this, not with how pent up they were. And as tempting as it was to let her finish him off like this, or to have her finish against his mouth-

That could come another time.

“To-Tobirama, stop, stop,” he murmured, tapping her thigh gently to get her attention. One last slow lick is given before she lifts her head.

“What?” Was she not good? She hadn’t gotten any sort of complaints before, but there was certainly a first time for everything. Her answer was given the next moment as he rolled her off of him.

“As much as I’d love to continue this,” he mused, pushing himself up, his gaze drifting over her form, “I’d much rather have you coming around my fingers than my tongue. This time, at least.”

A shiver danced across her skin at the implication that there would be more than just this. That this wouldn’t be a simple one-night stand. A smile curled her lips as she adjusted herself, settling back against the pillows. Reaching out, she snagged his wrist and tugged him closer, pulling him in for a slow kiss, much more sensual than their initial- the heat still there, certainly, but no longer a fight of dominance. Her hand slipped beneath her pillows, retrieving the small glass vial of oil. “I’m sure you know what to do with this,” she murmured into the kiss, giving his bottom lip a nip.

A chuckle rumbled free from his chest as he plucked the vial from her grasp, settling back on his knees between her thighs. “I think I have an idea,” he agreed, uncorking the bottle with his teeth before letting the oil drizzle out over his fingers, coating two and letting a small stream drip onto her already-soaked cunt. With his clean hand, he replaced the cork before carefully setting the vial aside.

It might be needed again later.

His clean hand settled atop her thigh, massaging it as he eased a finger in, drawing a pleased gasp from Tobirama’s lips. Her eyes fluttered shut, cheeks a rosy hue as he crooked his finger, slowly drawing it back out before pushing back in- a slow pace. She was soaked- realistically, he didn’t believe she needed much prep, but he’d dreamed of this moment for too long to even consider speeding through this.

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to the inside of her left thigh while his right hand continued to work, thumb rubbing clockwise circles against her clit as a second finger eased in beside the first, stretching her out. She was relaxed, sure- but not enough, not to his standards. “Tobi,” he murmured, watching as her gaze fluttered open, brows draw inwards, lips parted to allow soft moans and whispers of “Yes,” and “right there,” to spill free. “Eyes on me,” the command had her tightening around his fingers, a pulse of arousal. He felt the shift when his Sharingan activated, the strain on the veins around his eyes and within as everything swam into a sharper view.

He wanted to remember this.

“The great Tobirama Senju, getting fucked by none of than Uchiha Madara- her sworn enemy,” he taunted, crooking his fingers up, pressing against the most sensitive part of her. A whine- loud, long- escaped, her thighs tensing on either side of him as his hand sped up suddenly. Wet, so very wet. “How lewd,” he crooned, giving her thigh a nip, enjoying the way the muscle jumped beneath his touch. “So fucking wet for me already- listen, Tobirama.”

“Sh-shut up,” Tobirama gasped, her hands gripping at her chest. Good, so good- she was drawing close. “Stop- ‘Dara, stop, too close,” she warned, but his fingers didn’t slow down. “Madara- oh, Madara, there, there, don’t-” her words cut off as her orgasm swept over her. Her head fell back against the pillows, snowy tresses spread about the dark sheets like a halo as she pulsed around his fingers, coating them and his hand.

A pleased hum rumbled free as Madara leaned down, pressing a kiss to her over-sensitive clit. “Good girl,” he murmured, giving it a lick, succeeding in drawing out a broken whine as his fingers withdrew. Sitting back, he reached out to grasp the vial once more to open it, using the remaining oil to slick his cock up. He gave it a few slow strokes, thumb drifting over the sensitive slit in the head to gather the bit of precum that had gathered.

“Don’t treat me like I’m made of glass,” Tobirama murmured, reaching out to take hold of one of Madara’s hands. “I’m anything but glass.”

“I’m aware,” he replied, scooting forward to settle his hips against hers. A groan fell from both at the sensation of his cock rutting against her cunt. “You’ve never been glass. Iron is a much better word to describe you,” murmuring, he took a moment to enjoy the sensation of being so close to her. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze as his other guided his cock to her entrance. A slow push of his hips had the head slipping in, a gasp breaking free from Tobirama’s lips, her eyes squeezing shut at the intrusion.

Not made of glass, but still very much human.

The stretch was wonderful- the slight sting of pain eased by his thumb on her clit, by his hips slowly moving forward and not deciding to seat himself in her all at once. So much- almost too much, but she’d be the last to admit that. His hips settled against her own, his hand leaving hers to grip at her hips instead, thumbs rubbing small circles into the soft, unscarred skin. “Good,” she whispered, gaze opening to reveal hazy ruby hues. A moment passed as they both grew used to the sensation- her to how filled she felt, him to the wet heat that encased his cock. Curiously, she shifted her hips, a low moan leaving at the feeling of him moving within.

Madara took that as his sign, hips drawing back before shifting forward slowly, testing the waters. Tobirama’s breath hitched, her brow drawing inward, hands slowly gripping at the sheets beneath her. “Please,” she whispered, tongue slipping out to wet her lips. “Fuck me.”

“Gladly,” he grinned, shifting his knees before he began to thrust harder, faster, causing Tobirama to moan- a much louder sound than anything she’d given him before. Wordless little sounds, but gaining in pitch as his hips met hers, as he pulled her back onto his cock. “If I didn’t know any better,” he panted, gaze trained on her face, “I’d almost mistake you for a common oiran.” The way she tightened around him at the slight degradation had his hips slowing for a moment, much to her annoyance. “Oh, yes, I could see it so easily,” he continued, hips grinding, barely pulling out before pushing back in, rubbing against that spot that had her breath catching in her throat. “You in one of those little Tea Houses that have settled here, wearing a pretty little kimono, your lips stained red- laying on your back just like this, letting men use you like the whore you really are,” his voice dipped into a growl as he leaned forward, resting his weight on his forearms while the position shifted, her hips rising with his.

Bordering so closely to the mating press, he noted in the back of his mind. But that didn’t matter, not with Tobirama gasping out his name. “Madara,” she whined, a hand rising to cover her mouth- as if it would hide what they were doing. “Don’t stop, sweet Gods do not stop, ah-right there!” Her thighs tensed around his hips, her cunt pulsing around his cock. Oh, she wouldn’t last long- but that was fine.

He would.

His fingers dug into her hips as he pressed close, hips grinding against hers. A moment to catch his breath- and to have her last just a touch longer. Being so close, he could just… Tongue lolling out, he licked a slow stripe up the valley of her breasts, drawing a surprised gasp from her lips, a breathless smile rising to settle across her features. “I could stay like this for ages,” he murmured against her skin, pressing lingering kisses to the smattering of scars across her chest- small, given by shrapnel during their darker days, “just like this, fucking you until you cried, until you can’t remember your name.”

Tobirama shifted her hips, brow furrowed as Madara spoke. She could hear him, certainly- could understand him, but the words didn’t register, not with how close she was to her own end. “Then do it,” she whispered, reaching down to cup his cheeks, drawing his face up- and for once, didn’t flinch away from the triad of tomoe within his ruby gaze. “Make me forget my name. Make me only remember yours.”

Something seemed to switch, then- as Madara studied her flushed features, the way her hair spread out beneath her head like a silver halo and wings. Leaning in, he captured her lips in a slow, sensual kiss that ended in him nipping at her lower lip as he shifted, his hands smoothing up her sides before settling atop the blankets, holding his weight up. This position was far more intimate than their previous positions, yet he found that it didn’t bother him. No, rather, he preferred this- to see her face so clearly, to hear her whispers of his name as he began to thrust once more. Her legs shifted, coming to settle around his hips, her ankles crossing at the small of his back.

Closer, stirring the embers of the flame that had been waiting to come to life for some time, now. What had been a small campfire was quickly spreading, consuming like a wildfire, flames licking at their skin, settling in their veins.

His lips brushed against her chin as her head tilted back, the position allowing for Madara to push deeper. “Tobirama,” he murmured, brow furrowing. Perhaps he wouldn’t last long, not now, not with how she gripped his cock. “By the Gods,” he gasped softly, hips rolling, chasing both hers and his own release. Her hands reached up, one tangling in thick onyx locks, the other scrapping blunt nails down the expanse of his back. The sharp shock of pain drew a surprised groan out of him, much to her amusement.

“Good boy,” she teased, only to gasp a moment later at the feeling of teeth digging into the sensitive flesh of her neck. “Mad-” her voice cut off by a loud moan as he moved his weight onto one arm, his free hand slipping between them to brush against her clit. Wordless sighs and moans spilled free as she rolled her hips against his, creating a wonderful fiction that had them both beginning to become consumed with the flames that threatened to burn them alive.

Madara pressed heated kisses along her throat as he felt her shudder beneath him. “Close, darling?” He murmured in her ear, lips brushing against the shell as she whimpered. “Will you be a good girl and come for me, then? Come around my cock like I know you want to?” His voice was no longer smooth, growing more haggard as his own completion began to burn at the base of his spine. “Come on, Tobi, you know you want to.”

“Shut- shut up,” Tobirama panted, even as she tossed her head back as he gave a particularly hard thrust. So close, so close. “Don’t stop, Madara- oh- oh, there! Please,” her voice pitched into a whine as her hand abandoned his hair to clutch at his back. Her walls pulsed around him once, twice, three times before she stilled, her back arching, mouth dropping open to release a sob of his name, tears spilling free at last from garnet hues.

Madara pushed himself up to watch, searing the image of her coming around his cock into his memory. The way her cheeks were flushed red, her brows furrowed, her nose scrunching up- she was beautiful in that moment. She was always beautiful, but this was a new type of beauty, something so delicate and precious that he hadn’t ever imagined being privy to. He moved slowly, the thrusts dragging against her walls, dragging out her pleasure and inching him close to his own. It hit suddenly, coming over him like wildfire consuming brush that lay in its path. He stilled above her, his head hanging low as he groaned out her name like a prayer.

She lay beneath him, panting and whining at the feeling of him filling her- hot, so very hot, it threatened to send her over the edge by the feeling alone. Shaky hands reached up to brush through surprisingly soft onyx tresses as he began to slowly gather himself. A moment longer, she thought to herself- let this last for a moment longer. The feeling of him settled over her, shuddering, panting, the heat that radiated from his skin so very pleasant, it had her relaxing into her bed.

But all good things must come to an end. Madara was careful as he pulled out, rolling his weight to the side to settle beside her with a breathless laugh. “Oops,” he hummed, reaching over to drag his fingertips along her thigh, watching as her leg jumped. He traced the red tattoo up, along the top of her thigh and onto her hip. “Was I supposed to pull out?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she murmured, reaching over to brush her fingers against his cheek, brushing away his hair. So messy… “Mito taught me how to make tea that will… Ensure it won’t take.”

“How soon do you need to drink it?” An innocent question as he rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his palm.

Tobirama hummed, shifting and grimacing at the feeling of his seed leaking. Oh, that’s why she hated it. “I’ll have it with my breakfast,” comes the simple response as she dips a hand down between her thighs to drag her fingers through the mess. “No wonder why there are so many of you Uchiha,” she comments idly.

A snort escapes Madara as he sits up, gaze drifting to the apex of her thighs. “Could always clean it up for you,” his fingers tap a slow rhythm on her thigh.

“Who said I wanted to be cleaned up?” Tobirama shoots back, legs slowly spreading. “Or are you just a one-and-done kinda guy?”

A grin spread across Madara’s lips as he slipped back between her thighs, pressing kisses along her stomach. “Do I look like the kind of man to leave a woman unsatisfied?”

“No,” she sighs, reaching down with her clean hand to brush his hair back from his face. “I feel that I will never be unsatisfied with you around- oh!” The feeling of his tongue brushing against her slit had her jolting in surprise, a chuckle rising to meet her ears.

Fires are awfully hard to extinguish once they grow out of control and consume everything within its sight.

[tommysparker]

Never Forget You [Chapter 1]

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Jedi!Reader

A/N: here’s the first official chapter! thank you so much for the support this series as already gotten. chapters will be posted every Saturday! enjoy :)

Warnings: angst. fluffy flashbacks. this isn’t even the worst of it mwhaha. paragraphed italics = flashback

                                            [10 YEARS LATER] 

The sky was as blue as his eyes. Not as dark and cloudy, but gave the same feeling of hope, peacefulness, and comfort. You could picture them vividly in your mind, even the small crinkle at the edges and the kindness they held, a warmness that matched your current aurora.  

The two of you sat in the gardens for what felt like hours, deep in meditation. Your force signatures quickly became entangled with one another, your bond radiating around you, creating almost a shield bubble between the rest of the world and the two who sat inside. 

Obi-Wan was the first to open his eyes, having never been one to sit still for long periods of time. He’s improved since he was a youngling, but still had a long way to go. 

You, on the other hand, looked completely invested in your meditation. Your face was relaxed, although every now and then your eyebrows would furrow as you tried to maintain concentration. It was hard when a certain other was very distracting, even if he wasn’t aware of it. 

“I can feel you staring,” you said, eyes still closed. Obi-Wan was thankful for that fact because it means you wouldn’t see him blush in embarrassment from getting caught. 

“I can feel you blushing, too.” This time, you opened your eyes and smiled. “I knew you wouldn’t last long.” Anytime the two of you tried to meditate together, it would always end with Obi-Wan getting bored and asking to duel instead. 

He quickly hid his face, pulling the hood of his robe over his head. “I’m not blushing, that’s childish.” 

You giggled, leaning forward to lift the front of his hood. “Obi-Wan, you are the most childish person I know.” 

The young man was about to protest before you hushed, eyes already closed once more as you returned to your deep state of awareness. 

You opened your eyes and sighed, long and deep. 

Standing up from the cold floor of your room, you looked out the window and gazed at the cloudy sky of Gyfill. The air felt chilly from the lack of life-forms in the area. After your first week on the planet, you decided it was a safer idea to seek shelter away from town. Considering your mission was to spy on the local Separatist groups, keeping a low profile was essential. 

Today was different, however. The same cold and dull atmosphere were present, but the future is what held the divergent. For today, was the day you were finally to return home. 

Home. The word itself felt familiar but distant. As a Jedi, you trained to hold little sentimental value. Attachments were forbidden, a path to the dark side. They provoked fear. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering. 

Once your bag of belongings was packed, you made your way to the marked location someone from the Jedi council sent earlier that morning. Mentally, you were not prepared to see everyone again. After being isolated for years and having limited contact with any life form outside of business, the many faces from your time at the Temple became slightly blurry. Except for his. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi was on his way to the Archives when he bumped into Ahsoka Tano. 

“Oh, Master Kenobi! Perfect, I was about to go look for you.” 

“Ahsoka,” he smiled. “What can I do for you?” 

“Who’s Y/n Y/l/n?” 

Obi-Wan froze. The sound of that name echoed in his mind, paired with memories that he had locked away in the back of his mind. “Well...that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time,” was all he could manage to say, still trying to process all the past recollections that suddenly surfaced. 

“So, you know them?” 

“Uh, yes I suppose so. We were...close as younglings and trained together as Padawans. They were...the most skilled Jedi I ever had the pleasure of knowing, almost as good as Master Yoda.” 

“If they’re so great, how come I never heard of them before?” Ahsoka tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, resting a hand on her hip in classic ‘Ashoka manner’, 

“They were sent away on an important mission years ago as far as I know. Er, why do you ask? And how did you come to know of that name?” 

“Oh right. Anakin said the Chancellor told him that Master Y/l/n was returning today. He told me to ask you about it.” 

Once again, Obi-Wan’s world paused. 

He stood across from you, trying to maintain a neutral expression as he watched you load your bags onto the ship. However, you knew him better than that. 

You walked up to the young boy and he took in your appearance. Gone was the braid that draped over your shoulder. Gone were the long robes you liked to hide in, in their place was a heavy jacket that looked like it was built to keep out the cold. Perhaps you were going to Hoth? 

“Obi, you know I can’t tell you where I’m going. Master Windu was strict about his instructions,” You sighed, sensing your friend trying to deduce as much as he could. Your Master was very clear when he told you how classified the mission was. No one can know, especially Obi-Wan. 

“Can you at least say how long you’ll be gone?” He practically begged, wanting something, anything he could get to keep his hope alive. Hope that you'll return soon. Hope that you weren’t truly leaving him. 

You looked away, staring at the towers and passing hover-vehicles that littered the planet you’ve grown up on. “I don’t know.” 

Everything had happened so suddenly. You were called into the council room that day to hear the news every Padawan dreams of. When Master Windu said you were ready for the trials, the first thing you went to do was tell Obi-Wan. The two of you celebrated that night in the gardens, a moment you would treasure for the rest of your life. Soon after you gained the title of Jedi Knight, you were once again called into the Jedi Council room to be debriefed on your first mission as a proper Jedi. You didn’t want to mess this up. You couldn’t. 

Obi-Wan resists the urge to pull you into a hug and never let you go, instead opting to hold your shoulders and give you his signature charming smile. “Be safe, darling.” 

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You held his wrist, bringing his knuckles to your lips and pressed a hesitant kiss to them before pushing them to his side. “May the force be with you.” 

There was no pet name at the end, no ‘my friend’ or even his own name. It was a sentence that was meant to bring comfort, but the way you phrased it, the edge in your voice, made Obi-Wan feel everything but comforted. 

He didn’t get the luxury of responding, for all he did was blink and suddenly you were on the ship, taking off into the clear blue sky. 

You gazed at the clouds passing by as the ship flew into Coruscant’s atmosphere. The bright light and sunny day was a harsh change from the grey sky that fell over Gyfill. The energy emitting off of all the life-forms gave you a headache. You felt the Force all around you, swirling in the air and penetrating your soul. It was like a breath of fresh air after drowning for over a decade. 

You flinched at the light as the door opened, suddenly feeling like a hermit crawling out of its shell. Slowly walking out of the ship, you pulled the cloak hood over your head, inhaling the strange but familiar scent of the Jedi Temple. You were still wearing your Gyfill civilian attire, the wool fabric made the Coruscant heat much more intense causing a few beads of sweat to form on your forehead. Or was it just the nerves of seeing all the people you left behind? 

Master Windu stood at the end of the drop door, a smile on his face at the sight of his former Padawan. It was an occasion that called for a little joy, a moment to celebrate outside the war that raged through the galaxy. 

You descended down the ramp, taking in a sharp breath at the feeling of another force sensitive. “Master Windu”. You bowed your head and he did the same to you. 

“Master Y/l/n, it’s great to see you in person rather than as a hologram.” 

You both chuckled lightly. “The feeling is mutual, Master. It’s...it’s good to be back.” Your eyes wandered over the people that roamed about. Jedi Masters walked with their Padawans at their side. Distant memories resonated within you. Some time ago that was once you and your Master, the man who stands before you know who has grown significantly older. Then again, so have I, you thought to yourself. 

Unbeknownst to you, you weren’t the only one registering your growth. Obi-Wan stood behind a pillar, glancing over the hanger in search of a familiar face. He was aware it would not be the same face he knew as a young boy, but he certainly was not prepared for what he saw. 

You look older, which was the obvious and expected observation. He noted how you wrapped yourself in your cloak, similar to how you would in your youth. You stood tall in front of Master Windu, another trait you had kept since your days as a Padawan. He remembered how you would always act mature in the presence of Masters, something he never really understood until becoming a Jedi Knight. The need for approval by the superiors was a constant.

It wasn’t just your appearance that had changed either. He could feel it in the Force. There was a shift in it when you had landed that made an excited yet nervous chill run down his spine. You were stronger and held more control in your signature. 

Before, he remembers being able to feel it from across the Temple. Now, it was barely there. He remembers feeling your bond drift farther as he watched you leave, and how it had dimmed over the years you were gone. He remembers the pain that tortured him every night as he laid awake in bed, trying to reach out across the stars but only being met with the vast emptiness of space. There was something in him that broke the first time he slept without having a tendril of your force signature connected with his. He felt cold, resorting to sleeping in his Master’s quarters in an attempt to ease the loneliness. 

Overall, it would appear that nothing about you had changed, and yet it seemed everything was different. Almost everything. 

His eyes were just as blue as the last time you saw them. They looked tired, haunted by the ongoing war but still filled with determination. Classic Obi-Wan. 

You quickly broke eye contact the moment it was made, but that one second was more than enough for Obi-Wan to get lost in the familiar colour. His favourite colour in fact, not that he would ever admit you had any part in the decision. 

“Master Obi-Wan?” 

He jumped at the sound of a voice and suddenly became aware of the presence right next to him, that presence belonging to none other than Master Yoda. 

“Master Yoda! I er I was just...uh...looking...for Anakin! Yes, uh have you seen him around by any chance?” Obi-Wan quickly tried to cover his stutter, feeling embarrassed about getting caught gazing from afar. Not that Master Yoda would know he was looking at you...right?

“I see,” the little green creature smirked in amusement. “Whatever it is, wait it can. Council meeting about to begin there is.” 

Obi-Wan furrowed his eyes. Typically he was able to keep a good track of the meetings, but this was news to him. “What’s it about?” 

“Master Y/l/n.”  

“Hmm?” You hummed absentmindedly.  

“Are you listening?” Master Windu raised an eyebrow.

“Oh uh, my apologies Master. I’m just...readjusting.” You tried to focus your attention on what Master Windu was saying, but the recognition of his presence made it difficult. For years, you tried to forget about him. You ignored the empty feeling in your stomach at night, the thoughts and memories that plagued your dreams. After some time, they eventually began to fade but never forgotten. It was for the best. 

Master Windu crossed his arms. “There will be plenty of time for that after your debrief of the mission. Master Yoda and the rest of the council await.”

Oh, Force, not the council. 

You would never dare to admit or even show it, but the council and being in the council room had always intimidated you. How could it not? You had to stand in the center of all the best Jedi of that era while they stare at you, judging you, sitting high and mighty in those stupid chairs.  

“This way, my old Padawan.” 

You followed Master Windu through the large halls of the Jedi Temple. You masked the nervousness that was no doubt radiating from your force signature. A multitude of thoughts ran through your mind, good and bad. Worst case scenario, you had done something so wrong that you were about to be kicked out of the Jedi Order. Nothing came to mind when you tried to think of any offence you had committed in the recent weeks since you earned the title of Jedi Knight. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of the large council room doors opening, the creaking of the hinges made you cringe slightly.  

The room was ominously lit, the only light source being the setting sun shining through the glass windowed walls. Master Yoda sat in his seat. All the other chairs were empty. 

Master Windu took his seat as you stood before the two of them. He could see the questions rise from your confused facial expression. “Everything we discuss in this room stays between us, young Jedi.” 

You nodded, inhaling and exhaling slowly in an attempt to calm yourself. “Master Windu, Master Yoda. What is this about? Have I done something wrong?” 

The two men looked at each other and shared an unreadable expression before turning back to you. Master Yoda was the first to speak. “Sending you on a mission we are. To Gyfill you will go.” 

Whatever anxieties that you held before were washed away with this information. You contain your excitement, but the sudden mood shift was still noticeable. “Who am I going with? When do we leave? What’s the mission for?” It was rare that a Jedi would be sent on a mission alone, typically you were partnered up for safety measures. Obi-Wan’s face flashed in your mind, and although it was unlikely, a small part of you hoped he would be going with you. 

“This mission only requires one Jedi. There’s a Separaist organization on the planet and we’re sending you to gain intel and report back to us. No one outside of this room can be aware of this information. You leave within the week. Understood?” 

You frowned, “Forgive me Master, but why can’t anyone know?” The idea of having to leave your home seemingly without a trace made you iffy. Obi-Wan once again appeared in your mind. 

Master Windu and Yoda exchanged a look before Windu responded almost hesitantly. “We have reason to believe someone in the Order is a traitor, and the number of people who are trustworthy is very limited.” 

“You mean someone has betrayed us?” You asked in shock. How could anyone do such a thing? And a Jedi nonetheless. 

“Time to answer your questions, there will be, young one. Prepare for your first mission now, you must.” Master Yoda said. “Prepare to say goodbye you should.” 

It was as IF he could read your mind, which he probably could. You dreaded the idea of saying goodbye, especially when it was clear that there was no guarantee of your return date. How would you explain to your friends that you won’t be around anymore? What will Obi-Wan think? 

“That is another subject that needs to be discussed.” 

————————————————————————————

what else needs to be discussed? who’s the traitor? how will obi-wan and y/n get on after all this time? lemme know what you think!!

taglist: @queenariesofnarnia @dwarfplanet69 @katsukink @blondekel77 @generousrunawaydonut @fandomtrashwhore @fortheloveofaqueenfan @mrskenobi19 @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @hotleaf-juice

[no-droids]

The Floor is Better

Part Eight of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.4K i am. appalled.

Warnings: SMUT, very vague attempts at sprinkling in hints of an overarching plot, language, the slightest bit of angst, TONS OF FUCKING FLUFF WOWWWW

A/N: This is by far the softest smut I’ve ever written.  I will say that there is a hint at butt stuff tho (just a HINT—THERE IS NO ACTUAL BUTT STUFF IN THIS GUYS) so brace yourselves

***

Alright so this bed is, like.  Atrociously uncomfortable.

It’s not even a bed.  It’s a cot.  Just a bare minimum place to sleep, shoved into the wall and taking up less space than the ship’s armory.  Like a… like a really shitty gurney almost, except no padding.  So not even a gurney then, just a fucking.  Piece of metal.  Just a piece of fucking metal to sleep on.

There’s surprisingly a bit of space to maneuver yourself when you’re pulled into the cubby completely like this, and yeah, it’s quiet and dark in here but man does your back hurt.  Is his spine made of metal, too?  Is that why he prefers this?  The floor isn’t a feather mattress by any stretch of the imagination, but at least there aren’t any uneven support bars digging into your side.

You’re on Coruscant, and Mando’s been gone for over three weeks.

It.  Fucking.  Blows.

You’ve literally run out of ideas to occupy your time.  You’re far enough above Coruscant’s dangerous underworld to not worry about any potential… mishaps, like what happened on Corellia, but the only issue with the ground being so far below you is that it’s not like you can just stroll down the road and buy yourself a deck of cards at the nearest merchant.  The only shop within walking distance of this hub contains the bare essentials; things like food, medical equipment and bacta, spare electronics and parts—all of which you purchased without hesitation.  Other than that, you need a ship to travel anywhere in this massive galactic capital, and while you just so happen to have a ship, what you don’t have, at least right now, is a Mando.

Fuck, but you did.  Before he left, you had Mando all to yourself for at least a full hour.  After he landed the Crest in a long-term terminal and turned his attention back to you, for some reason, he was insatiable.  It didn’t really make much sense back then, but in hindsight, it’s like he knew good and well how long he was going to be gone this time, attempting to search for a quarry on a planet with a population that broke a trillion last year.  It makes sense.  With this many people, a biometric tracking fob would be almost useless, and sure, you realize he set the ship down in the long-term terminal for a reason, but long-term with Mando typically means a week or two.  You suddenly realize that in a handful of days, he’ll have been gone a full month.

You suppose you probably could fly the ship somewhere else and send him a coded coordinate set of your new location, but for some strange reason, you can’t seem to reconcile going to all that trouble just because you’re bored out of your fucking mind.  You don’t want him to have to travel another however many miles out of his way to get back to you just so you won’t have to twiddle your thumbs for weeks on end.  You don’t want to run the risk of trying to make a quick trip there and back without alerting him of any change in location, either, especially on a planet this size.  He could return to the hub at any time, and if he comes back to a different ship parked in this lot, you’ll probably never see him again.

Okay, no, that’s not true—he hunts people for a living, and you have his kid.  You probably just wouldn’t see him for at least another month or so, and by then he’d be fucking livid.

So.  You stay here.  The baby offers a distraction, but only to a certain point.  The ship is pristine right now, inside and out.  Fucking pristine.  Almost… almost compulsively so, you reluctantly admit.  The console’s entire motherboard has brand new soldering and connections.  You used ear swabs to clean and polish each individual button, key, and knob in the entire flight deck.  You… may or may not have even labeled and color-coded the heat shrink wrap on every single cable in the Crest’s patchbay, all five-hundred and something of them.  When you pried open the metal paneling that covered all the ship’s interior routing jacks, you remember gasping at the sight of a mechanic’s worst nightmare and wondering if the last person who touched it took even more than a few hours on its installation.  What used to be a horrifying tangle of haphazard wiring is now a lovely set of rainbow snakes meticulously gathered and bound together with zipties, and you’re incredibly proud of it, though you still haven’t decided whether or not you should be.

There’s also a very particular reason you’re in this poor excuse for a bed.  You still very clearly remember Mando’s unfiltered voice in the pitch darkness, telling you he wants to come back to find you in his bed.  To find you in it, so he can fuck you though it.  

Well.  Three weeks ago, sleeping in here sounded like a good idea.  You even have a pillow now, and a blanket you can lay out beneath you while you curl up under the one you brought from home.  It’s thick and warm—probably a shock blanket, to be honest, since you did happen to find in the medical section—but it still doesn’t offer near enough padding to feel like you’re laying on an even surface right now.  Mando could theoretically get on top of you in here and fuck you—there is enough room vertically.  He might break one of your ribs on accident though, just judging from the way this one Maker-forsaken support bar seems to dig into your ribcage no matter which way you position yourself in here.

Stars, your back hurts.  You should just lay on the fucking floor.  If he hasn’t come back by now, what are the chances of it happening tonight?  But then your mathematical hindbrain immediately reminds you that statistically, the chances are the highest they’ve ever been.  The longer Mando’s gone, the more likely he is to come back every single day that passes.

It’s just as well, you figure, grabbing the tracks beneath the bed and slowly beginning to squeak yourself out of the wall.  You try not to let your fingers get pinched between the railing and the slider, but that just means the quickest you’re able to inch out is in intervals the approximate length of your index finger.  It’s dark in the hull—the baby is fast asleep in his crib in the cockpit, and the long-term terminal you’re parked in is quiet.  It would be a perfect time to sleep, if you could.  But here’s the thing—

It sucks that Mando’s gone for this long, absolutely.  It sucks that you slept on this awful fucking bed for three whole weeks when you could’ve done this ages ago.  But most of all, it sucks that you don’t have anything else to do.  Because that means you can’t occupy yourself, and when you can’t occupy yourself, your mind starts to wander.  And then you start to fixate on things you probably shouldn’t fixate on, for your own good.

Things like blood on your hands.  The baby limp in your arms.  A voice spitting, “pretty little bitch like you would sell for at least—”

Your eyes snap to the corner of the hull for the millionth time, the sight of where it happened, before you shake yourself out of it and hop down off the suspended cot.

“This’ll be good,” you whisper quietly in the darkness to yourself, pulling the blankets off and grabbing the pillow.  It’s… it’s something you’ve started to do when you need to instantly snap yourself out of a dreaded line of thinking but you don’t have anything stimulating around you to help.  Talk to yourself, talk about anything, just talk out loud and focus on the sound of your own voice.  If you listen hard enough, it’ll drown out your thoughts.  “The floor will be great.  The floor kicks ass.  I like the floor.”

You spread the fluffiest blanket down on the ground as far away from the offending corner as possible, and then close the much shittier metal bed into the hull wall before collapsing on your clearly superior one, never once ceasing your rambling nonsense about the floor.

Oh, this is nice.  This is fantastic.  Your back is still tight and achy from three awful weeks of sleeping on a “mattress” clearly made for someone with no concept of comfort, but being able to stretch out on a flat surface with a large shock blanket that feels like a fucking cloud under your body?  Your eyes are already starting to droop.

“The floor is better,” you whisper, yawning and snuggling deeper into the pillow.  The terminal is quiet.  The kid will be asleep for a while.  Mando won’t come back tonight.  Mando won’t come back tonight.  “The floor is better.  The floor… the floor…”

***

You jerk awake to something kicking your leg, hard.  

Gasping, you’re instantly pulling the blanket over your chest on reflex and bracing yourself for another impact, except then whatever kicked you is immediately toppling over your shins and stumbling to the floor with an unfamiliar grunt.

You and a man you don’t recognize blink at each other for a few seconds; him taking in the way you’re curled up on your makeshift bed, and you taking in the way he’s got his face squished against the metal ground, apparently not quick enough to use his arms to try and soften the abrupt tumble.

It’s like all your blood suddenly thickens and the adrenaline digs claws into your chest.  Your first instinct is to fucking bolt, but then your eyes instantly flick to the cockpit, where you know the kid is still sleeping.

Only—you can’t move.  You’re frozen in terror, quickly blinking your wide-eyed gaze back at the man on the ground.  You know you could’ve only been staring at each other for a few seconds at most, but with the way your mind is hurtling right now, it’s long enough for you to have just the briefest flicker of confusion as to why he hasn’t appeared to have moved either.

Except then another set of footsteps slowly begin clanking up the ramp.

Your heart is fucking slamming up against your ribcage at about the rate of four beats per footstep, but as soon as you catch a flash of beskar stepping onto the ship, you‘re reaching up to clutch your chest with your palm like you just finished a long-distance sprint and trying to take deep, calming breaths.

It’s just a quarry.  It’s just a quarry.  His hands are cuffed behind his back.  It’s a quarry.

The Mandalorian slowly comes to a stop right in front of your outstretched legs and the sharp angles of his chrome profile silently stare down at them, unmoving.  You swallow thickly and try not to blush as his helmet tilts towards you and follows your knees up to your hips, along your heaving abdomen and chest, before eventually coming to a rest on your face.

He holds there for a second, taking you in.  You bite down your lip and feel your heart thundering under your ribcage, blinking up at him as your cheeks flush in a boiling hot mixture of panic, embarrassment, and relief.

His metallic visor carefully follows the length of your body back down again, pausing once more at your feet.  

And then he sighs heavily through the modulator, loud enough to echo through the silent hull, before slowly stepping over them.

“Well, well,” the quarry says, stealing your attention with a sick smile creeping across half his face as it’s smushed against the floor.  “Who’s this, Mando?  She’s just darling, isn’t she?  Does Gideon know your crew has a lovely new addit—?”

The bounty abruptly cuts off with a strangled yelp when Mando bends down and grabs him by the collar, yanking him to his feet and then shoving him forward towards the carbonite chamber.  

You collapse back down onto the floor with a relieved breath and try not to tremble with the adrenaline comedown.  Maker, you woke up barely a minute ago but almost all of it was spent in fight or flight—or in your case, freeze—mode, and you’re already fucking exhausted again.

“I’ll tell him—” you can hear the quarry snarl just before Mando slams him into the metal frame.  As much as you try to just tune the confrontation out for the moment and focus on slowing your heart rate, you still manage to catch bits and pieces.  “See him again… be interested to know…”

You close your eyes and breathe deeply, counting to three during each inhale and exhale.  Fuck, that scared you.  You almost had a fucking heart attack, and it takes you a few seconds to get your body under control again.  But then you realize you haven’t heard anything from Mando’s side of the hub for an extended moment, and the carbonizing gas hasn’t yet filled the room.

Your head turns and if you squint from this distance, you can make out a leather glove clamped tight around the quarry’s throat, the man’s face a red-purple by this point as he sags weakly against the chamber.

“Mando!”  You bark quite suddenly, and beskar shoulders jerk straight at the sound as the bounty immediately takes in a giant, ragged breath from under a marginally loosened grip.  Mando quickly releases his neck altogether and punches in a few buttons on the control panel to the right, and then freezing gas soon solidifies the gasping quarry into solid carbonite.

He stays with his back to you for a moment, letting the cloud disappear completely before he moves a single muscle.  When he does eventually turn to look at you, he still doesn’t say anything.

He just stares.  The lights in the hull glint off his helmet, and you tug the blankets up your chest a little further on instinct.  Fuck, three weeks is a long time.  You’re defaulting in a way, finding it impossible to not reevaluate him after a long absence.  Before he left, you’d gotten a bit better at gauging his mood and countenance, been more relaxed and friendly around him, but now, after some time away from him, he’s still so… jarring.  Unpredictable, even when standing still.  Especially when standing still.  

You’re just trying to play it by ear, trying to respond to him the way he responds to you.  Only—it feels like he’s either not responding to you at all, or you’re just too rousing of a stimulus to show a response.

“You…” you breathe, and for some reason your heart rate is beginning to kick up again instead of decelerate.  You should be calmer now that he’s here, but he still hasn’t said a word.  “Y-You scared me.”

Mando stays rooted to the spot, just a motionless suit of armor, with the exception of his chest moving with breaths and his fists repeatedly clenching at his sides, and fuck.

Fuck, you’re wet.

You feel like prey right now.  You’re starting to gradually build into another fight or flight mode every second he’s staring you down, refusing to speak, but you also feel a stirring deep down in your floor muscles.  He’s so fucking tall from this angle, so broad and—

He steps a single foot forward.  You flinch at the abrupt movement, practically soaking your underwear now.  Mando takes another step forward, and you wet your lips and start to crawl back on the bed just a bit, staring at him with wide eyes.

Maker, the tension is making it hard to breathe.  You’re silently begging him to come take care of you after such an agonizing three weeks apart, and Mando’s body language looks like he’s more wound up than you’ve ever seen him.  He starts pacing directly to you, crossing the hull rapidly, and your heart thumps furiously with every step he takes.

But then he gets right to the edge of the blankets and suddenly stops short.  He looks down at the neatly made bed at his feet, and then down at his body.

You try not to make an audible huff of disappointment when he abruptly collapses down onto his back with a clatter right there on the floor, just a few inches shy of the blanket, immediately bringing the backs of both hands up to press against the face of his helmet.  It should look weird considering his knuckles are pushing hard against the visor, almost like he’s covering his eyes or has a headache but is rubbing the beskar instead of his forehead, but it doesn’t.  It just makes you want to rip that armor off his body even more and remind him again of what his skin feels like.

“What are you doing?”  You try not to make it sound like a breathless pout as you squirm impatiently under the blankets.  “Come over here.”

“I’m dirty,” is the first thing that comes through the modulator, gravelly and distorted but his voice burning a fucking hole through you after not hearing it for almost a month.  “I need to shower before I touch you.”

You don’t know why, but something about the way he says it makes you throb hard between your legs.

“Will you please just…” you bite your lip, stopping yourself short of saying take your clothes off and go with, “please, just—hurry.  I’m…”

Maker, you don’t know how to say it, and Mando soon rolls his helmet to the side to look at you when you don’t finish your sentence.  Desperate for it?  Hurting?  Feeling your clit pulse right now even though he hasn’t laid a finger on you yet?

“I missed you,” you eventually finish lamely, breathless as you fidget and bite your lip.

“Yeah?”  He breathes, suddenly turning the rest of his body on his side to face you.  “Tell me.”

“I… I want to show you,” you return quietly, scooting closer towards him.  “But you’re being withholding.”

Mando doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, but the front of his visor burns into you, steadily increasing your need for him the longer he silently stares at you.

“Show me, then,” he says after a moment, and the sentence rolls through you with a shudder.

You swallow thickly, and slowly start to pull the blanket down.  It’s unnerving that his helmet doesn’t move, even though you can literally feel his gaze lowering and searing hot along your newly revealed body.  You’re not even naked, not in the slightest, but with the way his shoulders tighten and his spine tenses just slightly, you would think you were completely exposing yourself to him right now.

“Do you want…”  Your fingers waver near your belly button, caught somewhere between wanting to pull the hem of your shirt up for him and wanting to pull the waistband of your pants down.  “What do you want to see?”

A breath comes through the helmet; slow, but shaky.

“I have to shower,” he grunts sharply, suddenly, his fist clenching at his side.  You don’t take offense to the stern tone.  He’s clearly repeating the sentence as a reminder to himself, not to you.

“You can get me dirty,” you breathe regardless.  “I don’t care.”

“I just spent three weeks on Coruscant’s surface,” Mando grits.  “I can’t touch you, I’ll infect you with someth—What are you doing?”

You bite your lip at him as an answer, bypassing your prior conflict altogether by slithering your hand down the front of your pants.

“What are you doing?”  He repeats through the modulator, just as your fingertips wedge underneath the hem of your panties.  

You shiver at the sensation, your eyes losing focus just slightly as you trail down the front of your pussy.  “I… I missed you.”

“Fuck,” Mando barks, and then he scrambles to stand up.  “Stop.  I’m taking a shower, just—just stop.”

You ignore him, turning on your back and widening your knees so he can still see the way your hand is still moving down between your legs, your finger just barely brushing the top of your slit.  “But it feels good.” “Take your hand out of your fucking pants,” he orders tightly.  “Right now.”

Your eyes flutter up at him as you do what he says, slowly bringing your hand out of your trousers.  “Hurry,” you murmur, biting your lip and blinking innocently up at him.  “Please.”

He doesn’t say a word, but his cape does make an audible sound with how quickly he whips around and shuts himself away in the tiny fresher.

***

You forget how long it takes to undo the beskar armor sometimes.  In fact, throughout the entire duration of Mando’s shower, you’re able to quietly sneak up to the cockpit and navigate the ship out of the terminal, pull up the coordinates for the next quarry on the navcomp while rising to a high enough altitude above the galactic capital, make a jump into hyperspace, return to the hull, shut off the lights, and slither back under the covers before the fresher actually turns off.

Soon, Mando raps his knuckles against the door separating the two of you, and you’ve completely wiggled out of your clothes by that point, the blanket resting just below your naked waist.  “Hey,” his unmodulated voice calls from behind the thick slab of metal.  “Eyes closed for a second.”

“I’m not looking,” you agree, draping your elbow across the bridge of your nose and waiting patiently.  He gives you a few seconds regardless before the door is sliding open.  You expect it to quickly shift shut again, plunge the room back into pitch blackness like before, but he hesitates.  It takes another moment for you to realize that he’s probably just staring at your naked chest while he stands there in the doorway, light spilling into the hull and illuminating you waiting for him with your eyes obediently shut.

“I thought I told you not to sleep on the floor anymore,” he murmurs after a quiet second, and you bite your lip and shuffle your shoulders impatiently against the floor, arching your chest out just slightly to entice him to come closer.

“Fuck that bed,” you breathe with your arm still pressed over your eyes, and your nipples feel tight in the cool air.  “Your armory is bigger than that bed, Mando.  Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“Yeah,” he returns, finally shutting the fresher light off and shifting the door shut behind him, beginning to make his way over to you.  “Tells me that there are more guns than people on this ship, as well it should be.”

“Maker, you’re impos—”

You’re cut off by Mando dropping to his knees and slowly crawling over your body, and fuck he’s as naked as you are, he’s naked and his skin is warm and damp from the shower and his hair is still dripping as you slither your arms up his chest and comb your fingers through it.

You can’t see a damn thing but you’re instantly thanking your lucky stars for that fact when his head drops down and a hot tongue drags up the curve of your neck.  Okay, this is better.  This is always better.  Even when you can’t see a damn thing, feeling the hollow of your jaw be caressed by a blazing wet furnace and tugging your fingers through his hair will always be better than when he keeps the helmet on.  Maker, you almost forgot how fucking good his mouth is, how soft and warm it is, and you can’t bite down a whimper when his lips finally trail up your chin and seal against yours.

You moan when his tongue gently slides into your mouth, unable to stop yourself as your cunt fucking throbs between your legs with arousal, and Mando even lets out a short huff of air through his nose and a low noise quietly slips through his vocal cords as he tastes you.  The barely audible sound is enough gasoline to your fire that you wrap your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his lower back before tugging, wanting his cock pressed against your cunt so you can rub yourself against it while he kisses you.

Only, something in the way Mando’s elbows immediately buckle and the hiss of air through his teeth before he unceremoniously collapses on top of you makes you instantly let him go.

“Hey,” you say, letting him bury his head into the crook of your neck and puff a short few breaths of hot air against your skin.  “What’s wrong?”

“Fuck,” he grunts, sounding somewhere between discomfort and legitimate pain, moving to prop his arms up next to your head again but taking a moment before trying to push himself up.  “Back.  Back hurts.  Too—” he winces when his shoulder moves a certain way, “—too old for this.”

“Here.”  There’s just enough space between you and Mando to wiggle out from underneath him, quickly turning around and swinging a leg over his back as he abruptly drops to the floor with the extra weight.  “Let me rub your back.”

“Shit—come on,” he groans against the blankets.  “I haven’t touched you in three fucking—”

Your hands trail up his spine, slow and gentle, and Mando cuts himself off.  He shudders under your palms as they carefully push and roll into the small of his back, and the muscles curving down under your touch gradually rise as he breathes in a lungful of air.  “Let me rub your back,” you repeat softly, letting your voice lull just a bit in a lower register, and all the air immediately releases from under your hands.

“Okay,” he relents, but his spine still holds straight and tight with tension.

“Okay?”  You repeat, dragging your palms back up until they’re roughly in the middle of his spine.  “Tell me if I go too hard.”

Mando barely huffs with a chuckle beneath you.  “Yeah, okay, I’ll tell you if—nghh—”

You dig your knuckles into the dip right beneath his shoulder blades and start kneading, and Mando makes a strangled noise and sags into the floor.  Your smile is almost impossible to hide, but the pitch black hull does the job just fine as you press and roll your knuckles into the hills and valleys of his back.  The noises he makes are a mixture of soft gasps and chokes, but it gives you the perfect opportunity to explore his body in ways you haven’t been able to before.

Your thumbs you dig in and follow the curve of his spine down, squeezing through the tightness in his lower back.  The skin under your hands is soft and giving, even though you can feel massive knots hidden underneath.  You take all the time in the galaxy with it, isolating each ache and pain and then grinding your knuckles into them steady and hard enough to make Mando groan brokenly under the pressure.  You work at it for a while, trailing your fingers up to his neck and massaging the base of his skull, not being able to imagine how much those muscles have to hurt after holding up a heavy beskar helmet every single day.  Your hands explore everything you can from this angle—you squeeze the tops of his shoulders, slide your palms down and squeeze his biceps, the muscles under his elbows, the ones wrapped around his forearms.

“This alright?”  You ask after a while, and you barely get a hoarse grunt from him in response.  His body is perfectly relaxed under yours, almost dead if he wasn’t still breathing, and you slowly walk your hands down the length of his back until you’re braced upright on him once more.  “You gonna make it?”

Eventually, he drags his forearms up so he can prop them against the blankets and slowly roll over underneath you.  You allow the lazy movement, lifting your hips up as he rotates, feeling his smooth skin shift under your palms until he finally comes to a rest on his back.

“My turn?”  He asks through the darkness.

“Your turn for wh—?”  You gasp as his grip instantly tightens, and then he’s abruptly switching your positions until he’s on top of you.  Almost all of your breath is knocked out of you when Mando grabs you and flips you over until you’re on your tummy, and then whatever remains suddenly whooshes out when he straddles you and plops down on your lower back.

“My turn to give you a massage,” he says, and you let out a quiet, “fuck—” when his palms land on your shoulders.

“Wait—” You pant, “—Wait, hang on, I don’t need a—”

Thank the fucking Maker you turn your head quick enough to muffle a loud moan when his fingers begin rubbing hard circles into your deltoids.  Stars, sleeping on hard metal for three weeks was truly a nightmare for your posture.  The knots in your upper back burn under the steady push and press of his touch, and it’s like your muscles can’t decide if they want to relax under the manipulation or tense up against it.

“Maker,” he murmurs, his thumbs frame either side of your spine and slowly drag downwards, and your voice almost cracks as you hide another groan in the pillow.  “Why does your back hurt?  What did you do to yourself?” “I slept—” you gasp when his knuckles roll up the length of your sides.  “Slept—on that piece of fucking scr-scrap metal—you call a—” his fingers press firmly against the valley below your shoulder blades, and then widen apart to start squeezing your arms, “—a bed for three weeks,” you manage to gasp, sparks of sensation shooting down to your fingertips as he rubs the muscles along the length of your biceps.

Soon, Mando’s hands come back down to rest on the small of your back, and he begins digging his thumbs into the base of your spine.  “Why did you do it for so long if it hurt?”

“You said—” You cut off with a moan into the pillow as he slowly scoots back until he’s sitting on your thighs, his hands moving downwards and kneading the soft flesh of your ass, pressing deep into the sore muscles while you struggle to remember what you were going to say.  “Said you wanted me to sleep in y—”

His thumbs start slowly moving inwards, his large hands butterflying out along both cheeks and squeezing.  He spends a second just grabbing and pulling your pillowy flesh, shamelessly spreading you and manipulating it until you’re throbbing between your legs again.  He’s being so brazen about it, too, gradually moving his thumbs closer and closer together until they’re digging into the crevice.

“Hey, uh,” you pant, starting to tense up a bit as his thumbs begin moving downwards.  “Ma—h-hey, you’re getting really… close to m-my…”

His hands keep steadily moving down, and you’re starting to squirm just a bit at the unfamiliar sensation of someone’s fingers pressing and kneading the unexplored skin between your cheeks.  

“Getting real close to your what?”  He drawls out from above you, low in his throat, and your cunt pulses with need.

Fuck, you’re gasping raggedly into the pillow, wondering if the absence would truly make him this bold.  You’re halfway caught between nervousness and being incredibly fucking turned on, and the way he pauses right above your asshole and just holds there makes your the muscles deep in your lower abdomen twist in anticipation and heat.  Fuck, you’re soaking the blankets beneath you, you can tell.  A thin sheen of sweat breaks out across your body and it’s all you can do to just lay there and wait for it with bated breath.

But then his weight is suddenly lifting from you and sliding down the length of your legs, settling at your feet.  You barely have enough time to let out a deep sigh—half of it relief and the other half… disappointment, maybe?—before he grabs hold of one of them, the size of it only slightly bigger than his hand, and firmly presses both thumbs into your arch.

A groan of approval slips through your vocal cords and you go practically boneless underneath him, not realizing how tense you just were a second ago.

“Fuck, that’s s-so good,” you murmur into the pillow, grabbing the blankets at your sides and fisting them subconsciously as he clamps his large hand around your heel and squeezes.

After spending just as much time and attention on the other foot, you feel him grip both your ankles and start working circles up the length of your calves with his thumbs.  His hands flex against the backs of your knees when they get there, and then your breathing kicks back up again when they gradually drag up your subtly clenching thighs.

But then they come to an immediate halt about halfway up, and you have to bite back a huff of distress when he just holds there.  Fuck, why did he stop?  Why did he stop?

“Sweet girl,” he eventually breathes out, sounding somewhere between chastising and shocked.  Your eyes flutter in the darkness at the tone, the endearment after nearly a month without it, and you wiggle slightly on the bed with arousal.  “Is this…?”  Mando brushes his fingers along the inside of your thighs, and you can feel the way his cock pulses as he presses it tight against your leg.  It’s not until he drags his hand down to your calves that you feel the slick heat coating the tips of his fingers, wiping it off on your relatively dry skin.

The pitch blackness makes it impossible to truly tell, but you’re sure your eyes roll back.  Stars, you are so wet for him, you’re leaking it halfway down your thighs.  It’s been too long since he’s touched you.  You can feel your lower muscles bearing down and coiling tight, your entire pelvic area now cramped up with need.

When his hand carefully moves up and a finger just barely ghosts over the soft flesh of your lips, you can’t stop yourself.

“Touch me,” you hear yourself suddenly beg, goosebumps breaking out along your skin while he begins to slowly trace the outside of your slit, up and down, up and down.  “Oh, fuck—please, Din, touch me, I—”

“Hush,” he tells you softly, and fuck, he’s on top of you and you physically can’t do anything to encourage him to hurry up.  The only thing you can do is kick one leg out as wide as possible and just shudder helplessly against the floor, trying to give his hands more room to work.

You feel desperate, your blood pounding through your ears as he takes all the time in the universe exploring you.  “Stars, don’t do this—I need you to—”

“Hush,” he murmurs once more, before moving both fingers to spread your lips apart ever so slightly, your slick heat seeping out to coat his fingers and the blanket below.  “Relax for me.”

Maker, your lower muscles are tightening down and throbbing in equal parts, and you just can’t relax, you can’t relax when you’re this close to cumming all over his hand even though he’s barely touched you.  You’ve been aching for it this whole time, but now there’s a bite to it, a slow burn that begins to engulf the lower half of you in simmering heat.  “Din, please, I missed you so m—”

You choke when you feel the slightest brush of a fingertip next to your clit, before he’s firmly pushing down and tracing a torturously strong semi-circle around the top of it.

Your toes curl and your body locks up and you gasp his name into the pillow, flexing every single muscle in your body in response to his touch until you’re impossibly rock hard with tension under him.

“Poor thing,” Din whispers, slowly tracing an arch back around the other way, and your entire body trembles with it.  Maker, you’re soaking his hand, slippery and hot and every nerve from the waist-down feels sharp and exquisite at the same time.  He leans down to press his lips to your shoulder blade while starting to rub strong circles around your clit.  “All alone for three weeks, nobody around to look after you.  Make sure you’re seen to.”

You’re not sure which way is up right now, and not being able to see anything isn’t fucking helping either.  You feel dizzy with sensation, shaky as his tongue slowly drags up your skin, and you actually feel water rush to your eyes in torment when he pulls his hand away.

You open your mouth to beg him not to stop, but then he’s already moving.  Grabbing your hips and slowly lifting them until your knees have to shuffle up to compensate.  He still keeps your head buried in the pillow, though, still keeps the upper half of your body firmly pressed against the floor.  You pant into the fabric half covering your face and fist the blanket underneath you, biting your lip and clenching your thighs as two hands carefully settle along the backs of them.

Fuck, he keeps you there for so long.  He drags out the anticipation until you’re downright hurting for it, waiting with your ass up in the air for him to do something—anything to help relieve your stress instead of continuing to build upon it.

“Fuck—” he whispers, “—missed you, too.”

When his hot, velvety tongue finally glides through your slit, something about it makes you moan brokenly into the pillow, spread your knees and arch your back even more in presentation.  Fuck, there’s just something about the mindblowing eroticism of your positioning right now, how you’re bent in half and letting him lick through your folds however is easiest for him, something about it hits just right and makes your orgasm suddenly pull up tight and fast.

“Din—” you breathe frantically, your knees shuffling apart and your hips pushing back against his mouth.  “Din, I’m gonna cum—”

His hands come up to clamp around your thighs and hold them steady.  And then he lowers his chin to seal his mouth over your clit, slowly dragging his slick tongue over it, again and again and again, and fuck, you can’t do anything to stop it.  Everything surges up, searing hot and wet as you go rigid and gasp his name, shuddering your way through the debilitating bliss as it arcs brilliantly up and down your spine.

By the time you’re finished, you’re slumped against the floor in exhaustion.  He pulls away and sits up, and you try to push yourself up too, but a large palm firmly flattening along your spine stops you.  The sound of him spitting and the subsequent slick glide of his hand around his cock makes you groan hoarsely against the pillow and relax back down again.

Din eases his way inside you and the thickness of him as he slowly breaks you open is fucking electrifying.  Your sensitive channel hugs tight to every fucking inch of him, lighting your nerves up from the inside and sending skittering shocks down your thighs.  You melt into the floor and take what he gives you until his hips touch your ass, sagging against the ground as he stands so tall and upright on his knees behind you.

When he slowly pulls back out, you can hear the wet sound it makes echo throughout the pitch black hull.  Maker, he just starts up a slow, steady rhythm, his steel grip on your ass holding you steady as he pushes in and out of you.  It’s blinding, making you writhe against the floor while he gives you his cock at a languid pace, dragging the pleasure out but snapping his hips against yours whenever he does reach the apex of his strong thrusts.

It’s as agonizing as it is blissful, and you moan softly into the pillow the entire way through it.  Except—you’re too full of mindless pleasure, too stimulated to want to remain stationary for this long.  You need to move, you need to show him how much you thought about him while he was gone.  

“Din—” you whimper, breathless and needy, turning your head back slightly to unmuffle your words.  “Turn over.”

“In a second,” he huffs, his cock continuing to steadily rock into you.  You’re bent in half, taking it the only way he’ll give it to you and not even being able to push back into him.  “No—l-later.  After.”

You whine, frustrated, clawing and pulling at the blankets under your arms.  “Please—”

“Fuck,” Din pants, “fuck, what do you need?  You need it faster?”  His speed kicks up the slightest bit, and stars, you have to bite the back of your hand to muffle the ragged noise you make in response.  “This what you need?  Tell me.”

There’s not a good way to phrase it.  Mostly, you just… feel the need to participate in this more directly.  You know from experience that he likes to finish when he’s on top, but after weeks apart, you… you need to be what makes him cum, not what he holds steady and uses to get himself there.  

Your voice comes out frantically, pleading gasps for him to grant you this one thing.  “Just turn over, please—pleasepleasepleaseplease—”

His thrusts falter, until they stop completely.  He sounds like he’s having as much trouble breathing as you are, but his hard grip on you gradually loosens.  “You—do you not—?”

You don’t let him finish.  As soon as he lets you go, you’re pushing yourself up and turning around, grabbing his shoulders and all but wrestling him down to the cushioned blanket.  Din grunts and lets you do it, dropping down onto his back and snaking his hands up your naked chest as you climb over him with weak, trembling limbs.  Once you get his cock into position and sink down though—fuck, you grab his wrists and yank them up until his palms are cupping your tits, and Din hisses below you.  Your hands are barely large enough to wrap around the backs of his, but you force him to squeeze them nonetheless, and then you begin to ride him in earnest.

He curses, bracing his feet against the floor and shifting his knees behind you, and then he starts pushing his hips up into yours in time with your downward rolls.  Maker, he hits something deep inside you at the angle, something that makes you gasp every time your hips meet.  Your palms drag down his wrists and forearms as he keeps groping your breasts, throwing your head back in ecstasy as another orgasm starts to stir somewhere low in your core.

“Stars, I—I think I m-might—” You barely have enough time to gasp it out before he’s releasing your breasts and anchoring his grip tight to your hips, beginning to angle and isolate in on that one spot that drives you fucking crazy.  The strong thrusts pull you forward until your palms are braced on the floor next to his head, and you just moan and push back against it as he fucks deep into you.

“Fuck, I missed you,” Din says again, his disembodied voice sounding tighter and more desperate in the darkness, like it’s coming out against his will.  “I—I missed you, t-too, sweet girl, I f-fucking—missed—”

You choke out a cry as another wave of euphoria all but fucking evicerates you.  Your elbows buckle and you fall into his chest, but Din wraps both arms around your back and keeps fucking you through it, gritting breathless curses at the ceiling as your cunt spasms around his cock.

“Tho—ught about you—” he groans, husky and low next to your ear, “every… fuck, every fucking day—thought about y—”

His body tenses and his thrusts stutter to a halt, and then he grinds up into you, gasping your name into the pitch black hull.  Your body is crushed into his chest when his hips jerk against yours, and you bite his shoulder in satisfaction, squeezing hard around his throbbing cock.

When Din finally settles back down to the floor again, both of you are spent.  Neither one of you fucking move.  You don’t say anything while you catch your breath against his chest, slumping down into him as his knees suddenly drop flat.

“Fuck,” he breathes.  “Fuck.  I’m.  I’m never taking a bounty on Coruscant again.”

You laugh lightly, swallowing and turning your head to settle in the crook of his neck.  Your knees shuffle up slightly until you’re resting all your weight on top of him, his cock still engulfed in your hot center.  As soon as you lift off him, you know you’re just going to dribble a mess all over these nice blankets, so you decide to put it off for as long as he allows it.

Din doesn’t seem to have a problem with it at all.  In fact, his chest shifts just slightly beneath you when he reaches down to catch one of the blankets and pull the fabric over the both of you, collapsing back into the pillow with an exhausted sigh and doing absolutely nothing to encourage you to move whatsoever.

“Corellia was worse,” you tell him instinctually, and he grunts and brings his hands up to trail his fingers along your lower back.

“Corellia was over within a day,” he points out, and.  Shit.  You know he’s just being diplomatic about it, but something in the way he casually brushes it off suddenly makes you go quiet.  He’s right, you probably weren’t on Corellia for more than a few hours total.  Not that you necessarily expected him to, but he clearly doesn’t realize the events that took place there have haunted you for weeks.

When you don’t immediately say something in response, Din stops dragging his fingers up your spine.  You can feel his chin lower slightly, his jaw brush against your forehead.  “You oka—?”

“I killed someone on Corellia,” you whisper, and your words hang heavy in the still air immediately afterwards.  “A man is dead because of me.”

He doesn’t speak.  For a long time, Din doesn’t speak.

By the time his voice eventually does come through the darkness, you’d almost convinced yourself he wasn’t going to say anything at all.

“You’re right,” he tells you bluntly, brushing your hair back from your shoulder.  And, for some reason, you’re not expecting it.  If you were able to get a verbal reply out of him at all, you… you hoped he’d argue with you even just a little bit, if only to make you feel even the slightest bit better.  “A man is dead, and you killed him.”

Though his voice is soft and you know he’s not being intentionally cruel, it’s like he reached through your ribcage and crushed your heart himself.  Your shoulders tense at the feeling, wanting to instinctively curl yourself inwards and make yourself smaller in response to it.  Only, Din’s broad chest prevents it.  All you can do is hide your face as best you can in his neck and let the unfiltered truth weigh heavy on you in the silent hull.

“But you’re wrong about one thing,” he eventually says.  “He’s not dead because of you.  That implies you had a choice.  You didn’t.  He’s dead because of him.  He gave you an ultimatum, and you did what you had to do.  Don’t feel bad that you won.”

“I didn’t win anything,” you whisper against his throat, uncomfortable with the implication.

“He initiated a confrontation, and you finished it,” he asserts.  “You did what you had to do, and you did great, so don’t—”

“Great?”  You close your eyes and try not to sound as upset as you currently feel, because you know this is just him being polite.  He does this for a living.  He’s probably lost count of how many people he’s killed in his lifetime, so what’s one body to him?  You shouldn’t have let the conversation lead here, especially after such a lovely moment.  “I… I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have brought it—”

“Listen to me,” Din suddenly says, curling the tips of his fingers against your shoulder blade.  “There’s something you need to understand, and I’m not trying to hurt your feelings by telling you this.  But the galaxy will never be as kind to you as you are to it.  You’re tenderhearted, and that’s not a bad thing.  Hang onto it, but recognize that it’s rare.  It’s not something that you’ll come by often.  You’ll never see as much of it in anyone else as I see in you.”

Maybe it’s because you know he’s not used to comforting people that the words actually manage to make you feel somewhat comforted.  They’re blunt and honest, but they also allow an unobstructed glimpse into his feelings for you, specifically because of that.

“I just…”  You bite your lip and snuggle your head deeper into the crook of his neck.  “I just wish I could… somehow…”

His chest expands fully with air underneath you, and then you can literally feel yourself slowly sink down a few inches with how deeply he sighs.  But… this isn’t the normal Mando sigh.  He doesn’t sound frustrated with you, exasperated, or impatient.  He sounds… empathetic.  Understanding.

His hand comes up to cradle the back of your head and comb his fingers through your hair, tugging at some of the tangles at your nape.  “What would you have done differently?”

You don’t answer him, because you immediately see what he’s getting at.  You’ve told yourself these things a million times over in the weeks he’s been gone.  Regardless, he goes on for you.

“Would you have chosen to land the ship in a different spot?  Risked a different person following you onto it?”  He asks, and though the overarching point to this line of questioning is already blatantly obvious, his voice is still kind.  “Would you have taken that vibroblade to a different part of his body?  Given him a slower death?  What else would you have done, sweet girl?”

You stay silent, fluttering your eyes shut.  His fingers lazily trail up and down the length of your spine, goosebumps breaking out on your skin once again.

“Even if there was something you could’ve done—even if his death had been your fault,” Din murmurs, “—listen, do you remember what you said to me?  When I told you my name—before that, do you remember what you said?  You said that some things just belong to people.  That there are certain things that people just own, right?  Fundamentally.  And you can do whatever you want with them.  You can choose whether or not to share them with others, you can hide them, or you can.  Change them.  Burn them away.  Remember?”

You nod as much as you can with your head buried into his neck like this.

“Well, you’re right,” he continues, his voice softening.  “Some things do belong to people.  But some things… some things you can’t change.  Some things you can’t hide, and you can’t just burn away forever.  But that doesn’t make them any less yours, understand?  You killed someone.  It doesn’t matter what I tell you, or what you tell yourself.  The end result won’t ever change.  It can't change.  You own that now, and you’ll carry his death with you.  Just like I carry every single one of mine.”

He’s… he’s right.  You don’t have to like it, but he’s right.

“I don’t like it when you quote me to me,” you eventually whisper, your lips brushing his throat.

“Too bad.  I got another one for you,” Din rumbles, and you can feel his gentle smile against your hairline as he tilts his head and presses his lips to your temple.  “The Way says no take-backs.”

You narrow your eyebrows into this perfect little corner of him, not liking how curt and unapologetic it sounds rolling off his tongue.  “Did I say that?”

“Yep,” he huffs at the ceiling.  “Half-asleep, yet observant enough to be annoying.”

Your mouth twists, trying to appear visibly offended in the pitch blackness for some reason but fighting back a smile.  “Would you rather I be oblivious and adorable?”

“No,” he says immediately, and then you blink a few times in the darkness at the sincerity in his tone.  “You’re smart.  Well—you’re an idiot sometimes, but you’re smart.  That’s good.  That’s your best weapon.  Use it.”

“Use it?”  You ask, your voice quiet but curious.  “For what?”

He takes a second before responding, his fingers continuing to trace gentle, subconscious shapes along the curve of your spine.  “What planet are we going to next?”

The abrupt change in subject is stark and immediately noticeable, but you wrack your memory for the coordinates you brought up earlier when he was in the fresher nonetheless.  “Naboo.”

“I was thinking,” Din says, shifting just the slightest bit under you.  You groan when you realize his cock is still inside you, soft but still gorgeously thick enough to not slip out.  “Might… might be a good idea to show you some things.  Give you a few self-defense tips before I head out again.  Naboo is one of the safest planets in the galaxy.  We can… take a few days.”

“Yeah?”  You breathe, a spark of excitement bringing an immediate smile to your face.

“Yeah,” he repeats softly, the scruff on his jaw rubbing against your temple as he nods.  “Been awhile.”

“Okay,” you bite your lip on a grin and try not to let him hear the happiness in your voice.  Fuck, a few days.  A few days he’s delaying his job to spend with you.  Maybe you’ll be able to sleep on an actual mattress at some point.  You truly can’t fucking wait.

You two stay like that for quite a long time, just resting and breathing with each other in the pitch black hull.

“We just wouldn’t have gone to Corellia, how about that?”  You find yourself saying after a moment of comfortable silence.  When Din doesn’t speak, you elaborate.  “You asked me what I would’ve done differently.  We just wouldn’t have gone to Corellia.  Avoided the whole fucking sector altogether, like I plan on doing for the rest of my life.”  

And then your whole body abruptly jerks up and down exactly once with his genuinely amused huff of laughter from underneath you.

Your expression immediately narrows.  This is the third time you’ve ever made him laugh in all the months you’ve known him, and somehow all three of them have been at your own expense.  “What’s funny?”

“Absolutely.  You could’ve—” he clears his throat, “—convinced me.  Not to hunt down a bounty.”

He doesn’t make a sound beyond that, and had you not been laying on top of his chest as it subtly vibrated with stifled chuckles, you wouldn’t have known at all that he found that to be so funny.

“I could’ve… wooed you,” you try after a second, and nope.  You feel like you’re on top of a silent, quaking faultline now, and you do your best to keep a frown on your face as you rock back and forth on top of him.  His cock almost slips out of you in the commotion.  Almost.

“Get some sleep, you sweet talker,” he eventually sighs when he calms his breathing, kissing your forehead and settling back down into the blankets.  “The kid will be up in a few hours, probably less.”

“He’s your son,” you grumble, still sulking somewhat at his blatant disregard of your seduction talents.  “Takes after you.  For all I know he looks just like you, too.”

“Sleep,” Din tells you, bringing a hand up to cup the back of your head and push it deeper into the crook of his neck.  “That’s enough talking.”

You stomp down the playful urge to bite him and settle into him instead, closing your eyes and breathing him in.  Fuck.  A few days on Naboo.  You’ve only heard nice things about the beautiful planet.  You wonder if it has an ocean.  Could a planet be called beautiful if it doesn’t have at least one?  You’ve seen rivers and lakes on planets Din has taken you to, but there was always land on the other side.  You’ve never seen an actual ocean before, you’ve only heard about them.  Water, as far as the eye can see.  There has to be an ocean on Naboo, right?

“Hey Din, are there any—”

“Stop.”

It’s alright, you’ll ask later.

[winchesterxxi]

To Make you Mine (Din Djarin x Reader)

Rating: PG-13

Type: Fluff

Summary: Din got the darksaber and as we know he can’t yield it to Bo Katan, it needs to be won in a fight. He doesn’t want the darksaber to land in Bo’s hands because she doesn’t sit right with him, so he suggests you take it, along with an interesting proposal

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: CH.16 SPOILERS, graphical descriptions of violence, mentions of blood, implications of sex

A/N: This idea came to me in one of my many maladaptative daydreaming moments a few weeks ago so bear with me

MASTERPOST | REQUEST HERE | KO-FI

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

You were trying to find a sense of normality.

After yours and Din’s life had been turned upside down just the week before, with losing your home and giving away your kid all in less than a couple of days, you had to go somewhere and deal with things. And you knew the Mandalorian by your side would never willingly take a single day off.

But with the help of a newly acquired ally, who also happens to have become the newest leader of Jabba’s Palace, Boba Fett, you managed to get in the possession of a small A-47 Airspeeder. Having a friend feared by all of Tatooine had its advantages.

You flew the fighter to what you knew to be a safe place to rest, across the galaxy: the forest moon of Endor.

You landed three days ago, and you and Din have been living a nomad life, using the ship to sleep in and igniting fire every day and night to cook and keep yourselves warm. You could’ve easily settled on a planet with a more hospitality feel to it; staying in an inn. But you knew this is what you both needed – fresh air away from everyone.

Despite Din’s way of dealing with the past events was to either cry alone or keep quiet, you always found intense physical activity the best way to blow off some steam. Tragic events had a way of making you angry, and this is the coping mechanism you found.

Slipping out of the small cot in which you were pressed against Din’s chest, you get some sturdier clothes on and get out of the ship, and run in big circles until you feel tired.

Once you were in your 15th lap, you couldn’t really tell anymore at this point, Din descends from the ship, full armor on which catches your eye.

“What’s wrong?” you yell so that he can hear you from how far you are.

From where he stands, he simply motions you to come closer with his left hand. You stop running and head in his direction instead, regaining your breath.

“What’s so important, you couldn’t wait for me to run my laps?” you question him, letting your hair loosen itself from the tight ponytail in which you had put it in to prevent it from getting in your way.

“I was thinking about something, and I’ve come to a decision.” His modulated voice explains calmly.

“Okay… and what decision have you exactly come to?”

“I don’t want the dark saber.”

“Yeah, you made that pretty clear to everyone three days ago.” you frown up at him, not understanding where the conversation was going.

“And I don’t trust Bo Katan.” You nod along, following his words.

“I want you to have it.”

You almost choke on your own spit when he communicates his decision to you, completely aloof as to why he would’ve thought of such a stupid thing.

“Are you out of your kriffing mind?!” you practically yell at him, waving your hands in the air, striding away from him to calm yourself down. You take a deep breath before turning to face him, still a few feet away. “What in the galaxy makes you think that I would ever do that?! Plus, you do remember that if I were to get that thing,” you gesture to his right hand, which has since reached for the dark saber “we would have to fight over it. As in, beat each other up.”

Din doesn’t dare to get closer to you, simply talking from where he is standing.

“It’s not a thing, it’s the single most powerful weapon in all of the Mandalorian history and yes, I do know that.” His helmet nods down and you finally connect the dots as to why he was in full armor when there was virtually no one on this moon besides the both of you. You sigh and your shoulders lower. You can’t believe that you’re actually considering this, hand coming up to press against your forehead.

“What’s in it for me besides the pain in the ass of having to rule all the Mandalorians in the galaxy?”

“I’ll marry you.” Once again your body as if goes into shock, stiffening up every possible muscle and your eyes widening.

“You -…” you stop yourself, before you scream, quickly striding over to him “You’ll what now?”

“If you can win the dark saber, I’ll marry you, you’ll become part of my clan, you’ll become a Mandalorian, and no other will be able to oppose you as their ruler.”

If before your heart was beating faster than ever with a mix of rage, confusion, and just overall annoyance, it has now sunk to the bottom of your stomach.

You and Din shared a connection beyond words, having spent countless nights together, both in union acting as guardians to Grogu and if anything ever happened to him you know you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. So many were the times when you thought you’d lose him for the crazy stunts he has pulled to save the people he loves.

It was a love that didn’t need to be spoken, rather felt or shown, but now you weren’t so sure it was reciprocated as his answer bore a purely practical solution to a problem. Not a declaration in any way.

“Oh… Yeah, that makes sense.” You can’t hide the way your body slouched slightly and your face dropped at his answer. Din walks over to you, his chest tight at the words that he wants to say to you.

“And…” He places his free gloved hand upon your cheek, causing you to look up and meet his hidden gaze. If you could see through the dark visor of his helmet you would you could see the gentle smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners as he looked adoringly at you, maybe soon “obviously, because I love you, mesh’la.”

You take a quiet breath in as your heart skips a beat at his confession. The words he’s wanted to say to you for so long and that you have longed to listen to for longer than you’d care to admit.

“I’ve lost too many things in my life, and if there is the chance for me to take you like a piece of myself for the rest of my life, I’m going to take it.” He brings his helmet down to meet your forehead and you take a deep breath before stepping backward and away from him, crouching down into a fighting stance, as you bring your hands up to be close to your face, closing them into two fists.

“Are you sure?”  You ask “What if I hurt you?”

“Give me your best.” Is all he says, igniting the saber at the same time as he reaches for the spear lodged in the back of his cape and throwing it in the direction of your chest. You grab it before it falls to the floor, handling it the way you had been instructed all those months ago when you insisted the man standing in front of you to teach you to defend yourself. “I know I’ve taught you well.”

The corner of your mouth lifts in a smile and you speed up to where he is, bringing the beskar speer down to meet the saber’s glowing blade as the sound of the clash echoes around you.

You breathe in before moving the spear to try and strike him from a different angle, moving forward as he backs away at the same time, grunting at the effort, all possible friendliness within the combat having completely flow away.

Once you finally think you have a good aim, he steps out of your trajectory, causing you to stumble forward with the momentum of the blow you were about to deliver.

“Think before striking, Y/n. We’ve done this before!” his voice comes heavy and sharp through the modulator in his helmet. Turning back at him, you are panting before running back to him, lifting your spear as if to strike him, but as his blade goes up to meet your weapon you slump below it and turn back, immediately hitting him on his defenseless back, in between the beskar plates.

He groans in pain and stumbles forward.

“Faster, Din. We’ve done this before.” You mock his earlier statement, smirking at him.

Oh. The man is pissed off. You can’t see his face, but having known him for so long you can tell by his body language that he is no longer padding around the playground. He means business.

He charges at you full force, but you block his blow with your spear, rotating and pushing it away from you at the same time, both of your weapons fly to the side.

You both look at the weapons, before looking at each other in sync, knowing exactly that you were going to try and go for the saber.

Din runs from you but you quickly catch up to him, advantages of him being in full beskar armor, weighing down on him and you only sporting some training clothes. You throw one of your legs around his waist and the other over his shoulder, rotating with his neck in the center so that you’re in front of him, and you pull your body weight to the side, bringing his own down with you.

You both fall to the ground with a heavy thud, his side crushing the leg that landed under him as you let out a cry. But you fight through the pain as you look to your side and notice that the place you are is only a few feet away from where the weapons landed. Holding him in a chuck hold with your legs, you hastily reach for the saber’s handle and switch yourself from underneath him, straddling his chest and holding the blade dangerously close to his throat.

You are both heavily breathing, you visibly sweating and his grip on you loosens as he holds his hands close to his face, surrendering.

You shakily exhale as a smile makes its way onto your lips and you nod in amusement, standing up from where you were.

Looking down at your lover, you extend him your free hand, which he takes as you pull him up to your level. He hovers over you as your right-hand turns the dark saber off, both chests still heaving up and down.

He brings his forehead down, shoulders slouching as he bows to the new Mand’alor.

“Ner alor.” My leader. “Mand’alor.” Sole Ruler.

You smile up at him once he straightens back to his full height.

“Now,” you grin with your tongue in peeking behind your teeth, and hanging the dark saber’s handle to your belt “If I remember correctly, I heard something about getting married... am I correct, my loyal subject?”

You walk slowly up to him, swaying your hips in the course.

His arms come to rest upon your waist, his voice letting out an amused hum and you just know he is smiling like an idiot underneath the beskar.

“And if I remember correctly, according to the Creed, that means that all this…” you tap with your pointer finger on the beskar of his helmet, chest and arms finalizing with a light tap of your nail against his crotch protection “gets to come off. Right?”

His grip on your waist tightens.

“Let’s go inside to find out.”

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

PEDRITO TAGLIST

@weirdowithnobeardo

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

Want a completely personalized imagine just for you? Click here!

[seattlesea]

Why Percabeth Isn’t a Good Ship (Sorry 2x)

I’m definitely getting cancelled- 

1. Annabeth is physically abusive. The fandom makes this point seem controversial and debatable, but it’s really not. The definition of abuse is hitting someone. Annabeth hit Percy. Therefore, Annabeth abused Percy. Is that really that hard to understand? Annabeth hit Percy for the first time in The Titan’s Curse when she, Percy, and Thalia were looking for the di Angelo siblings. She punched him in the gut when he asked her who he should ask to dance with him. Annabeth knows that Percy can be oblivious at times...but punishes him when it benefits her? The second time was in The Mark of Athena, when she judo-flipped him because she missed him. That’s...what?? Usually when people are worried about someone else, they hug or kiss them, not flip them over their shoulder. And yes Annabeth kissed him first, but the judo-flip was completely unnecessary. Annabeth punished Percy for ‘leaving’ her despite him being kidnapped and his memory wiped. And everyone’s like ‘But Percy didn’t feel any pain!!11!!1!’ The chapter wasn’t in his point of view, so that claim is a guess. Just cause he didn’t say ‘Ow’ doesn’t mean he wasn’t in pain. Also- Annabeth slammed him on a stone pavement on his back. That definitely hurts, even if Percy is a demigod, physically strong, and has gotten hurt a lot. There’s a difference between ‘playful hitting’ and actually hurting someone. Yes they trained a lot, but this isn’t training. This is Annabeth punishing Percy for being traumatized with yet another life-threatening quest and being kidnapped. I don’t remember Percy judo-flipping Annabeth after he saw her again when she got kidnapped in TTC. Besides, the Romans were about to take out their weapons when they saw Annabeth attack Percy, so if all of them thought it was an attack...it was most likely an attack. Even Annabeth said herself “I only attack my boyfriend like that”. The thing is, if it was Percy who flipped Annabeth over his shoulder and slammed her on her back or punched her in the gut, all the fans immediately would’ve freaked out and cancelled him, calling him a horrible and abusive boyfriend, but because it’s the girl hitting the guy, it’s fine apparently. Nothing wrong with it, right? And then Riordan (and the fandom) had the audacity to romanticize that abuse. Abuse isn’t a sweet, romantic gesture. Stop making it seem like it is. That’s disgusting. 

2. Annabeth is also verbally abusive and toxic. Annabeth canonically lowered Percy’s self-esteem, constantly insulted him and his intelligence despite knowing he was insecure about it and always getting kicked out of schools and getting bad grades (even with her so-called ‘endearing’ name for him ‘Seaweed Brain’), and the overall idea of Percabeth is a super smart, pretty girl making a guy with below average intelligence feel insecure about himself. Percy’s self-esteem has plummeted since he met Annabeth and her behavior is never called out or even noticed, which implies some manipulation going on. Annabeth is shown to be extremely capable of manipulating her enemies and anyone else she pleases, and there are quite a few signs she’s using it against Percy (his feelings of obligation, fear, and guilt of and over her, questioning himself, having strings attached, always only thinking of her and no one else in his life, etc.), especially since Percy begins to gradually stop noticing Annabeth’s wrong and toxic behavior as the story progresses. 

3. Annabeth only likes Percy cause he’s the chosen one. Annabeth only hung around Percy since The Lightning Thief cause she thought he was ‘the one’ and so she could finally go on a quest. She literally used Percy to go out to the mortal world and ‘prove herself’ cause really, all she cares about is glory, which is shown multiple times throughout the series with all her pride and ambitions. Plus the fact that Chiron made Annabeth swear on the River Styx that she would keep Percy from danger is a pretty clear sign she didn’t stick around him just cause she wanted to, but because she felt obligated to and cause it would benefit her. Take all of this and it’s kind of obvious Annabeth only hung around Percy cause he was the chosen one of the prophecy, a son of one of the Big Three, and was destined to go on multiple quests and play a big part in the mythological world, which is what she always wanted since book one.

4. It was forced. Since the beginning of book one, it was so obvious that Percy and Annabeth were going to get together that their relationship ended up being boring, dull, and flat. Riordan made it so obvious they were going to be a couple that nothing that happened to their relationship really mattered, cause everyone knew it would work out in the end (which is probably why everyone *wrongly* hated on Rachel) so what happened in between didn’t matter. Their relationship was the typical ‘male lead and female lead’, ‘bad boy trouble-maker skater and nerdy good girl’ power couple that was way too clear. And Riordan made it worse by pushing their relationship and shoving it into the readers’ faces way too much. In MoA Annabeth states that she’s always had a crush on Percy (since they were twelve) which immediately rips all the development their relationship (which was supposedly ‘friends to lovers’, but not anymore) had away. Riordan made up a bunch of honestly dumb scenarios that were legit cringe to make Percabeth seem like ‘OTP’ that really didn’t make sense.

5. It ruined their characters. Percy and Annabeth would’ve been way better off as just friends. After they got together in HoO, all their personality and everything else that made them independent was destroyed to make room for more ‘Percabeth’. All of Annabeth’s skills, bravery, intelligence, pride, ferocity, judgmentalism, and all the other traits and flaws that made her a well-written character were never utilized or even mentioned. All she thought about was Percy, and the same goes for him. His loyalty, sarcasm, humor, obliviousness, etc. disappeared to make room for arrogant Annabeth fanboy. In PJO, they were amazingly well-written and great role models for younger readers (especially Annabeth), but in HoO their characters were exclusively ‘Annabeth’s boyfriend’ and ‘Percy’s girlfriend’. Their characters were completely dependent on each other, and they were way better off as just friends. 

6. Annabeth is way too possessive. And creepy. It’s fine and honestly normal for people to get jealous when another person likes someone they do, but Annabeth’s jealousy was downright creepy. Not only did she not know if her feelings for Percy were reciprocated or not, but she also didn’t know if Percy and Rachel liked each other, either. The very first time she met Rachel she immediately hated her. That’s not ‘I’m jealous cause this girl likes the guy I do’, that’s ‘I’m jealous cause the guy I like has another female friend’. She had no reason to believe that Rachel and Percy liked each other and has no say in who they can like, either. She thought that she and Percy absolutely had to be in a relationship and that he couldn’t even have friends with different genitals than him. And remember when Annabeth literally stalked Percy in The Sea of Monsters? Like when she creeped by his window, constantly watched him, and kept tabs on him just cause she ‘couldn’t find the right time’ to tell him something cause he was ‘never alone’ despite him being alone multiple times and despite the fact that she literally could’ve just knocked on his door like a normal person instead of creeping around his cabin and staring at him through the windows? Again- switch the roles. If it was Percy who was stalking Annabeth, everyone would’ve immediately called him a creep. If- according to Tumblr and almost everyone who read Twilight- Edward is a creep for stalking Bella, then Annabeth is a creep for stalking Percy. 

7. It’s mostly fan love. Honestly, the fandom is the only thing that fuels Percabeth. Riordan just destroys it. He shoved it down the readers’ throats, forced it way too much with really dumb and honestly unrealistic scenarios, and made it abusive and toxic. On its own, Percabeth freaking sucks. The fandom’s version of Percabeth is 1000x better than whatever the hell Riordan was doing, but even that version is toxic. Like, I’ve seen way too many jokes about Annabeth hitting Percy (as if abuse is hilarious and amazing meme fuel and not an extremely sensitive topic that triggers multiple people who actually went through it). Half the time, the fandom fixes Percabeth and the other half of the time they over-glorify and ruin it. The fandom over exaggerates and over glorifies it way too much. It’s not that great of a relationship, to be honest. Most of y’all only like it in the first place cause Riordan made it canon.

8. It was cringey. Like I said above, Riordan wrote some really dumb scenes for Percabeth. I mean- the matching gray streaks in their hair despite Atlas and Artemis not getting any? Percy’s tie to the mortal world while bathing in the River Styx being Annabeth and not his mom, Grover, etc.? Percy only remembering Annabeth, the girl he’s only known for four years and not his mom, the only woman who actually cared for and took care of him or Grover, his best friend who protected and continuously cared about him? Percy turning down immortality only for Annabeth and not even bothering to mention the pain of leaving behind his life, friends, family, memories, etc. behind if he accepted it? The romanticized judo-flip? The whole ‘dark-haired rebellious bad boy/nerdy blonde good girl who can be bad’ trope? Even the boring predictability of Percabeth is cringe. 

9. It’s a bad influence on younger readers. Basically the lesson of Percabeth is ‘Once you get a love interest nothing else in your life matters’. Besides that one single scene that took like three lines in The Son of Neptune, Percy never even thought of his own mom, nor did he think about any of his friends or passed allies like his dad, Rachel, Grover, Paul, Silena, Luke, Ethan, Bob/Iapetus, Tyson, Calypso, Charles, Michael (whose death he accidentally caused), Bianca, Zoë, etc. Even when in Tartarus with the curse of the Arai being forced to remember all the people he forgot and feeling guilty about abandoning Bob and Calypso, all he thought about was Annabeth. Even when faced with the man who broke the heart of the girl who sacrificed herself for him, Percy didn’t even think of her, only his jealousy of Jason. Same thing with Annabeth. She never thought about her mom, Luke, Thalia, her step-mom or step-brothers, etc. It was all about Percy. Cause yes, Riordan, that’s exactly the lesson you should teach your younger readers- forget everyone you ever knew the moment you get a partner. Besides that, it also teaches readers that being rude to people who like the same person as you is completely okay cause no one will care and once you start being rude, bitter, and possessive you’ll get exactly what you want (that’s literally what happened, with Annabeth and with Calypso, too). He also teaches that after you get a partner, everything that makes you you will disappear and you’ll be completely dependent on them and nothing in your life will matter, even your own independent life and personality. 

10. The fandom tries to excuse and explain Annabeth’s behavior??? What??? Since when does explaining and excusing hitting people put you in the right again? And the excuses aren’t even good, too! Percabeth fans use-  Annabeth was full of emotions/mad and doesn’t know how to deal with emotions. Annabeth really loved Percy. It was only one time. Annabeth was worried about Percy and mad that she left him. Annabeth didn’t mean to hurt him. Annabeth didn’t know what she was doing cause she was full of emotions. ??? Annabeth was full of emotions/mad and doesn’t know how to deal with emotions- Annabeth was seventeen years old, the daughter of the wisdom goddess, and is supposedly the smartest character in the series who is shown to be extremely good at reading people and their emotions. And y’all are really trying to say she doesn’t know how to deal with her emotions?  Annabeth really loved Percy- SO? A mother might really love her child, does that excuse her for hitting them for dumb reasons? It was only one time- actually, it was twice, and so what? If someone was slapped across the face ‘only one time’, does that mean they weren’t abused? ‘Abuse’ doesn’t mean ‘hit constantly’, it means ‘hit’. If someone was hit, they were abused. Is that really not a known fact in this fandom? Annabeth was worried about Percy and mad that she left him- last time I checked, people didn’t hit others when they were worried about them. If I was worried that my friend was going to get hurt, I wouldn’t hurt them myself. That literally makes no sense. And again- Percy didn’t leave Annabeth. He was kidnapped. Do y’all not know the definition of that, either? Annabeth didn’t mean to hurt him- yes, cause that’s why she decided to flip him over her shoulder, slam him on a stone pavement on his back, and punish him for ‘leaving her’.  Annabeth didn’t know what she was doing cause she was full of emotions- Annabeth??? the daughter of the wisdom goddess??? not knowing what she’s doing??? huh??? I mean, would any of you really, legitimately try to use any of these dumb excuses to excuse a man from hitting his wife? Hopefully not. And if you did, you would immediately get hated on and legit cancelled. So what makes this any different? Also- I see the excuse ‘Annabeth didn’t know Percy lost his Achilles Heel and thought he was still invincible’. Under different circumstances I’d accept that, but Annabeth knew that Percy’s Achilles Heel was on the small of his back...BUT SHE SLAMMED HIM ON HIS BACK. If Percy hadn’t lost the Achilles Heel, Annabeth literally would’ve killed him. Abusive enough for y’all? Or is attempted murder excusable and still ‘OTP’? 

11. They had no chemistry whatsoever. Was I the only one who felt...absolutely no chemistry between Percy and Annabeth? Like some of their moments were cute, their friendship was really good, and they had a lot of potential, but they didn’t feel right for each other. Remember- opposites don’t attract (they just argue, and no one has ‘another half’ that needs to ‘complete them’, everyone is their own person), they cancel each other out. I mean, Reyna and Annabeth had more chemistry in that one chapter of the New Rome tour in MoA than Percy and Annabeth had in 12+ books. They’re just...not right for each other, I guess. 

I’m definitely getting cancelled-

Edit 2: Sorry if I offended anyone with that last note. Just wanted to let y’all know that I am not here to start any drama, hurt anyone, or disrespect any Percabeth shippers. I respect your opinions 100% and only ask you do the same for me. Like I literally only wrote this at 12 am when I was bored and had nothing else to do and couldn’t sleep (same goes for pretty much everything else I write about PJ). Besides, why argue and start drama over dumb stuff like that when we can just find something we agree on? Don’t like Piper McLean? Let’s talk about that. Think Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano is a queen? Let’s talk about that. Think Nico di Angelo is freaking amazing? Let’s talk about that. Think Theyna would be adorable? Let’s talk about that. Want someone to vent to about writer’s block? Why the hell not? Want random writing advice and tips for writer’s block? Sure, I got plenty. Instead of arguing and starting beef over trivial fictional ships. 

[shreddedparchment]

A World of Our Own Pt.07

Decrepit Old Grump

9/29/2020

Pairing: Bucky x Reader          Word Count: 5,510

Warnings: language, smut, fluff, angst

A/N: Y’all, I have not edited this chapter much at all. I edited the first part and that’s about it. I’m too tired to edit and I may come back and edit later but I didn’t want to make y’all wait anymore as I already made y’all wait a long time before I came back to it. I’m sorry if it stinks. <3 If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

Bucky is gutted.

He can feel the weight of his guilt growing as you sit there on the beach staring out at the crashing waves, sky turning an inky purple where it kisses the sea as the sun sets.

Your skin is enveloped by ocean wind, briny and thick it coats you with sea salt making you sticky with its humidity.

In this light, you’re glowing. A beauty. With tears slowly rolling across one cheek then the other as your sorrow wounds you repeatedly. Over and over you play it all in your head. Remembering the sounds of the chopper, the violent swish of tall grass and palms, gunpowder saturating the air as he lays on the ground and you panic over him pressing your hands against his wound.

Reaching up, he feels the spot, pressing his palm flat against the spot now healed and only a little sore.

The slump of your shoulders, the dead weight of your hands as they rest at your sides on the sand without moving, Bucky can see it all from where he stands by the hut.

You’ve given up. All hope gone. Not only are you stuck here on this island forever, but you were betrayed by Ryan.

Someone that Bucky suddenly wonders might have meant more to you than he realized. A real spark.

Of course, Bucky knows that you love him. It’s in your eyes, or it was before you were both permanently marooned here because of him—this is all his fault after all.

Still, maybe you cared more for Ryan than you were willing to admit? Could you have loved him too?

The two of you had been close. Despite your suspicions, your gentle guarding against him, could your spark have turned into real feelings?

Bucky hates this thing, this oozing pit of green sludge he knows is jealousy.

He knows he shouldn’t feel it. This is bigger than who anyone might be attached to emotionally or attracted to physically. This is life and death.

With being left here, all hopes of a real future are gone.

No jobs. No family. No friends. No children…Why had he gone and told you he wanted to have them with you?

How much must that be hurting you now?

Idiot.

Of course, with you hating him now, maybe the very thought of having kids with him is repulsive? He’d never been able to see himself as a father before you. Maybe this is all for the best? No matter how much it hurts to think.

He hesitates, waiting to see if you’ll turn or rise. You haven’t eaten all day and he knows its depression keeping you anchored here to this beach. A final depression. Dark and consuming.

However, he also knows that despite your giving up, even now your eyes scan the horizon for possible ships. Not in hope, merely habit.

When you continue not to move, he breathes in deep to gather his courage and moves towards you slowly.

You don’t even twitch at the sound of his approach.

You don’t even care that he’s there. Do you?

You’ve been so distant since Ryan left, sleeping in his now empty room on the floor. Bucky was willing to give you space at first.

How you must not be able to look at him…

The pit in his stomach widens, bringing with it painful aches of missing you pressed into his side. He misses the smell of your skin and the touch of your lips against his throat when you’d wake up in the middle of the night, searching for comfort.

He's lost you and he has only himself to blame.

However, whether you hate him or not, he can’t let you keep neglecting yourself the way you have. He can’t keep his distance anymore. Not completely.

He’s still responsible for keeping you alive, even more so with Ryan’s deception.

He'll force you if he has to. He needs you. Even if you can never love him again, he needs to see, hear, and know that you’re well.

~~~~~~~~~~

The hiss of the sand as he walks to you is soft with deliberate steps taken towards you then he stops.

Beside you, Bucky crouches and he penetrates your peripherals, filing you with wretched agony at the scowl in place on his beautiful face.

That face had smiled at you once. Kissed you. Assured you of safety. Loved you.

Now…how can he not despise you after your misguided trust?

How can he not hate you for your reckless friendship with that stupid man. You’re so angry at him you can’t even think his name.

You don’t want to remember him, but your heart will not let you forget.

You’d thought it so many times. So often. He’s a good man. A good father. He’s my friend and he’d never do anything to hurt us.

How very wrong you’d been. How foolish and trusting and generally stupid.

“Get up.” Bucky orders, his voice hard like it had once been so long ago when he’d dragged you up from the beach and through the trees where he’d put the fuselage.

You thought you’d heard the last of that voice. If he hates you, you suppose it makes sense that he’d adopt it once again. Why would he speak with love to you when he clearly can’t trust you or your judgement?

It hurts to hear his dislike of you, you can’t bear to see it to. So, you keep your eyes trained on the horizon, looking at nothing.

You don’t answer him either. This upsets him.

“You can’t keep ignoring me. And you can’t keep sitting here, crying your eyes out, not eating.” He huffs, gets to his feet and towers over you, legs spread slightly as he waits for you to look at him maybe, hands flexing in and out of fists.

What does he want from you? How can he expect you to respond to him when he’s like this after months of feeling his love?

He hadn’t even stopped you when you came back to the hut and told him you were going to sleep in the other room.

“Whatever you want.” He’d said in monotone, sitting stiff by the fire after you’d just cleaned, stitched, and dressed his wound.

He let you go; let you sleep away from him. You’d almost hoped he’d ask you back into your room, but he didn’t, and you weren’t bold enough to ask to come back when he so clearly didn’t want you.

“This isn’t helping anyone, Y/N. Get up.” Bucky chastises, driving a nail through your heart with every stern word. “Are you seriously just going to sit there?”

Your lips twitch tempted to shout at him to leave you alone. Very nearly you look up at him and yell at him to let you starve and die because that would leave him unburdened and free of you. But you picture it, his face, all scowly and angry. A hate in those steel ice eyes that had once overflowed with adoration and love.

No, you can’t look at him. It’ll break your heart more than it already does to wake up in the mornings without him at your side.

You mash your lips together, refusing to answer him and tilt your chin up in defiance.

It happens so quickly and you’re all of a sudden upside down, or…close to it.

Bucky swoops down and grabs you, tossing you over his shoulder and you’re not sure how he does it but he won’t let go and he doesn’t seem to have trouble lifting you—he pulled a literal piece of a plane inland so why would he?—as he turns and marches towards the tree line.

“Bucky! Let me go!” You scream, startled as you bounce against his back.

Trying desperately to find a hold on something, you push yourself against his waist but your hands keep slipping over his hips where you finally take hold of the loops of his jeans and use them to anchor yourself so that you’re not bobbing up and down as much.

“Bucky please-” You begin, an attempt to plead with him because this is the closest you’ve been to him in a month and you can smell him. The heat he radiates, just a bit hotter than normal, penetrates every fiber of clothing you’re wearing.

“I don’t know where the hell you got the idea that this behavior is alright. You want to starve yourself? You do it once I’m dead. Do you have any idea what you look like? What you smell like?” Bucky argues, strutting faster as he swerves between the trees.

The embarrassment you feel overwhelms you into silence because you don’t know what you look like or what you smell like. It must not be good if it’s made Bucky this angry. You feel shame suddenly that the man you love is seeing you like this.

For it to get so bad that he breaks whatever distance he’d wanted to keep between the two of you, it must be disgusting.

Your heart is suddenly thrumming for a whole new reason, and you’re very aware of how close to your butt Bucky’s face must be and with his enhanced senses, just how well he must be able to smell.

“Bucky put me down.” You squirm, pushing against him and pulling yourself up enough to grip his shoulders and hold yourself up a little straighter as the fear in you builds.

His arms only tighten around your legs and waist, refusing to loosen his grip as he continues to march forward.

“Bucky…” You push against him harder, a frenzy taking you over as you kick and squirm, hoping to maybe knock him off balance but instead he stops and suddenly, you’re weightless.

You fall for what feels like forever as your face is overtaken with shock. You see his frown as you fall, his eyes boring into yours until you hit water and sink down into cool green waters.

You gasp, swallowing water but quickly find your footing and push yourself up from the floor of what you realize is the bathing pool that Bucky had rebuilt closer to the hut.

You gasp and choke as you surface, eyes wide with panic as you push the water out of your face and try to catch your breath.

“You wanna let yourself fall apart, you do it on the other side of the island where I can’t watch you do it, because I won’t sit here and put up with it, Y/N. I can’t.” Bucky points at you, his finger firm.

“What the fuck, Bucky?!” You gasp, still wheezing from swallowing water.

“I get that this isn’t exactly an ideal situation.” He starts, pacing a step away from you before coming right back up to the lip of that pool and presses his hand to his chest. “I’m not innocent. I’ve been paying for the crimes I’ve committed ever since Steve pulled me back from the brink and I know that I’ve done a lot of wrong since. Getting you stranded here on this island…if I could take it back, I would. If I could fix it so that you weren’t on that plane when they blew it up, I would do it in a heartbeat.

“I get that this is my fault. I understand that them wanting me dead has put you in this fucked up situation, stuck here with no possible escape, and hate me if you want to. That’s fine, I’m used to it. I get it if you never want to speak to me again, but please stop neglecting yourself. If you want to punish me, I’ll think of some other way for you to do it, but please…please don’t make me the reason you die here because I couldn’t stand it, Y/N. I’ll find you a way off of this place.

“I’ll build a raft or a bigger fire or…I’ll think of something, just…I need you to eat something. I need you to take care of yourself. I need you to care. Don’t let what I did hurt you more than I already have.

“I’ll fix this. I promise. Alright?” He’s still fierce in his words, but slowly his anger has receded into begging.

Before you stands a desperate man, asking you to keep living and all you can think about is one thing.

“I…” You swallow hard, fighting the knots in your stomach and the aching squeeze of your heart as a fleeting hope takes shine within it. “I don’t hate you, Bucky.”

The words are mostly air, still too stunned by his speech and certain parts of it in particular to catch your breath fully from the sudden dunk into very cool water.

He takes a breath, staring at you as you look at his feet, shaking your head before finally meeting his eyes.

You blink against the water still dripping down from your hair into them and wipe at the drops that get trapped in your lashes.

“What?” He asks, his own voice rising in pitch in confusion.

“I don’t hate you.” You repeat, this time strongly with a voice so clear that the birds making nest for the night go quiet. “I could never hate you. How could you even think that?”

You lick your lips, wiping more water away from you face while Bucky stares at you, blinking as he processes the words you’ve spoken. It’s clear in his expression the flurry of thoughts that must be speeding through his mind.

“But you moved out of ro-” He begins, but you don’t let him finish, wrapping your arms around yourself to battle the chill that’s begun to set in.

“Because I thought that you were angry with me…because I trusted him. I kept insisting that he was our friend and I was so…so stupid for believing him.” Your voice breaks, pent up sorrow breaking through as you look away from him because you can’t bear to see the look of disappointment on his face when you admit your crimes.

He says nothing.

“If I’d been more careful maybe we might have noticed something sooner? If I hadn’t been so won over by the story of his kid or the way that he pretended to be nice, I’m sorry, Bucky. I’m sorry that I didn’t-”

There’s a splash and you blink against the rush of water. You have no time to search for the source because he’s there, in front of you, his hands wiping away the water from your cheeks.

He presses himself so close that there isn’t a part of you that isn’t touching him. You tilt your head to look at him, meet his eye and see a desperation in his own as his lips curl into a small sad smile. His eyes are soft, his brow is raised at the center as he drinks in your own expression of surprise.

“You really don’t hate me?” He wonders, voice soft and sweet and full of fading anguish.

“No.” You nearly sob, shaking your head as much as you can in his vice-like hold. “I could never hate you, Bucky. I’ve told you before. You’re my hero. My savior in more ways than one stupid. I love you.”

He closes the distance between you, fierce hungry lips painfully pressed to yours until he gets his fill then pulls back to sweep more water away from your cheeks.

“I’m not angry.” He whispers, reaching down to wrap his right arm around you. “I could never be angry with you for seeing the good in people. How can I when that’s what made you dumb enough to love me?”

You laugh, ecstatic and slightly insulted. “Did you just call me dumb?”

“Fuck yeah, I did.” Bucky shakes his head. “Stupid, lovable, dummy. You’re a hothead too. I hate that in a woman.”

His teasing fills your belly with butterflies and sweet warm tumbles.

You laugh again, then reach behind his neck to pull him down for another kiss, this time holding it for longer as you let your lips meld with his. Soft and fluid as a month’s worth of insecurity washes away in the water of the pool.

He sighs, angling your head with his metal hand as he parts his own lips and the heat of his breath parts your own. He deepens the kiss and you welcome him, a small whimper breaking the silence as you melt against his chest.

He pulls back to tilt his head the other way, “Will you come sleep in our bed now?” He asks, before meeting your lips again.

You nod.

“Mmmph.” He moans, pushing you back until you hit the pool’s wall.

He nudges your legs open and you lift yourself easily in the water and wrap them around his waist as he presses in against you, flesh hand sliding down to your bottom to grab a firm hold.

You break the kiss, gasping as his lips drift to your neck until a sudden flash draws your eyes upwards followed by a sudden boom.

Bucky pulls back, staring up at the sky with you.

“This’ll hit in half an hour.” Bucky guesses, and you know it might hit sooner.

“Bad?” You wonder, dropping back down to your feet as you continue to stare at the canopy as it begins to sway more strongly as the wind picks up.

“Bad enough.” Bucky frowns. “I need to go get the tools secured in the hut and check the nets.”

“I’ll help.” You offer and begin to move around him, but he turns back to you, planting you firmly against the wall.

“No. I wasn’t lying when I said you need a bath. You don’t stink as bad as I made it seem, but you haven’t been taking care of yourself, kitten. I’m not okay with what.” He’s stern again but this time, you can’t blame him.

“I’m sorry.” You allow, feeling shame once again for your inability to be strong through this.

“Don’t be.” He shakes his head. “This isn’t your fault. Or mine. We’re just here and we lost our way for a bit. I should have spoken up sooner. We’ll do better, right?”

You nod, eager to move on from this hiccup. “I’ll do better.”

“We’ll do better, Y/N.” He corrects, reaching up to caress your head. “There should still be some soap in the basket. I’ll bring you a change of clothes.”

He pulls himself out of the pool, untying the basket where you keep the soap you’d made up in the branches of a tree away from where animals might find them. He places it beside the edge and as another flash fills the sky, he hurries back towards the beach to prepare for the coming storm.

~~~~~~~~~~

The hut shakes, a charge fills the air, and you sit up gasping. Clutching the thing almost worn blanket close, you turn your head this way and that, searching for the chopper.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Warm arms wrap around your shoulders, pull you closer as the thunder rumbles into nothing.

The rain is still pelting the outside of the hut, a constant stream of white noise as rain and wind thrash the beach and your island home.

The storm has gotten worse over the past few hours, the waves are loud and chaotic, rising higher than they’ve risen since you’ve been here. The beach and campfire where you usually sit and cook are under water.

Bucky building the hut on stilts has paid off and you curl into him as he drags you back down to lay in the plane cushion bed.

“It’s alright, it’s just the storm.” He promises, still half asleep.

You turn towards him, wrapping your arms around him, placing your palm flat against his chest.

“The storm.” You repeat, still mostly asleep yourself.

As your heart begins to slow, you reach up to trace the shape of his ear, slipping your hands up into his hair you pull him down for a kiss.

He gives it to you, his lips gentle and coaxing as he responds eagerly to the attention.

“Bucky…” You fret, thunder overhead shaking the hut once more as lightning flashes and illuminates the inside of the room.

The sky is a black void of weather, scary and unyielding as mother nature asserts her dominance over both your lives.

“It’s okay…” He promises, traces the curve of your body from hip to shoulder, then back down to your hip.

You snuggle closer, pulling him down for another kiss and this one he holds, his tongue slipping past your lips.

Toes curling, you sigh, pushing yourself up over him for only a second before he rolls you onto your back.

Already mostly naked, Bucky pushes his briefs down then pulls your panties aside and without hesitation pushes into you, stretching your heated cunt with his thick throbbing cock.

Both of you freeze, feeling each other for the first time as the sky flashes and thunders.

His mouth finds yours swallowing your moan as you both give in consequences be damned because you’re both here. You’re stuck, deserted, with no hope of rescue and you love him so much.

He thrusts into you, burying himself deep.

It’s a hazy dream, the pleasure his body pulls from you, until he’s pushing your legs open wide and you obey because you want him closer, deeper.

Suddenly the world is crystal clear. Sharp and detailed and you can feel the tip of his cock sliding against the walls of your cunt, prodding and sliding making your legs quiver and flex.

“More…” You beg, hands raking against taut shoulders, tracing cool metal. “…Bucky…”

He pushes himself onto his knees, angling himself up further until he’s mounted you and you’re trapped in the cage of his arms.

He grunts, driving you mad with the sounds he’s making because they’re better than anything you could have dreamt up.

You pull him down until he’s got his full weight on you, crushing you down as his hips continue to thrust.

The wind grows more violent, the rain falls harder. The lightning feels endless and the thunder never stops but you hear none of it as Bucky’s lips kiss your neck, his tongue tracing circles before his teeth bite into your throat.

The heat in your belly swells over, down into your hips and pelvis and your body is overwhelmed with pleasure. Toes curled, arms locked around Bucky’s shoulders, you stop breathing.

Bucky keeps pumping, drilling into you faster as he chases his own release then he stutters, hips clapping against your thighs as he spills into you, grunting with every thrust.

He doesn’t stop. He won’t stop. Even when he’s finished, his lips trail across your skin, searching for more.

He reaches down and pushes the bottom of your shirt all the way up, exposing one breast which he takes into his mouth, nibbling gently.

“More?” He checks, moving to the other, never once pulling away.

“Never stop.” You hope, pushing him until he’s on his back.

As you settle over him, hands pressed against his chest, he licks his lips and traces your sides. Stopping at your hips, he licks his lips in anticipation.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Bucky!” You call, searching the beach in the distance, too tired to walk all the way out to the nets.

“Yeah?” He calls back, his shout distant enough that you know he’s in the water just beyond the rocks.

“Lunch is ready. Come eat before it gets cold.”

“Let me just finish with this trap.”

“Okay but hurry up.” You relent, knowing that he won’t come until he’s satisfied.

You move the fish away from the flame, careful and quick as they’re hot. Placing the extras on one of the trays you’d salvaged way back when from the plane, you move to take your usual seat beside the fire.

Ten months.

It’s been ten months of being stranded on the island. The two made bearable by the fact that Ryan’s betrayal had helped you and Bucky push into a new stage of intimacy.

You have sex often. Maybe not everyday as sometimes you’re both too exhausted to do more than sleep, but often enough that you’ve begun to wonder if you’ve made the right choice to give in.

There is no doubt in your mind that should a baby come, you and the child would be safe and well kept with Bucky at your side. Although the fear still lingers that something could go wrong, with either you or the baby, you’re sure that if you weren’t around to care for it, Bucky would do an amazing job as protector and keeper.

He doesn’t talk about it, but you know he, like you, wonders.

You’d stopped having regular periods well before you and Bucky began to have sex, so there would be no real way for you to know until you got big enough to show.

With a sigh, you push these thoughts away. This worry is only one of many and there are others much more important than a possible child.

With the storms getting worse, and hurricane season almost over, Bucky is sure that the island will see one more storm before it’s really over.

The idea of being caught in more scary weather fills your tummy with big bats and you want to forget the worry almost as soon as you remember it.

You unwrap your fish and pull it apart, careful to avoid the bones as you pick it to pieces and begin to eat.

You’re almost halfway through when Bucky finally settles in across from you, sighing with relief as he smiles and reaches for his plate.

“Everything good with the nets?” You check, mouth full of fish.

“Yeah, they’re fine. Just had to cast it out a little farther. Season’s changing so we might have to look for new fishing spots.” He explains and tears into his fish hungrily.

“We need to find more boar.” You sigh, pulling more bones from your fish. “We need the protein.”

He meets your gaze, blinking slowly as he watches you eat before nodding.

Neither of you has to vocalize your worry about protein and your health in case of a pregnancy.

“I think I spotted some yuca root on the far side of the island too. Some nopal and jícama too. We’ve been eating a lot of fruit; we’ll need to mix in some vegetables…for…it’ll be good for you.” He smiles, trying so hard to be relaxed.

“Vegetables…” You lament, moaning with desire for the long-forgotten tastes.

“I know. I’d love some good french fries.”

“Oh my-why would you bring up french fries?!”

Bucky chuckles. “Sorry. Just popped in there.”

Nervously, you lick your lips of the flavor of fish and set aside your leaf and tray.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t look up, focused instead on his food.

“We should make plans, just in case.”

“Not yet.” He sighs, the corners of his mouth curving down.

“We need to.”

“Not yet.” He insists.

“Bucky.” You press.

“Damn it, Y/N,” He looks up at you, shaking his head in resistance. “Not yet.”

“We have to, babe.” You smile sadly, shrugging your shoulders. “You may not want to think about it, but we have to. We gave in and with that comes the chance that the two of us could turn into three and we can’t afford to put this off. If something happens to me while I’m giving birth-”

“Okay!” He cuts you off, nodding. His eyes a little wild as he thinks quicky. “I agree, we need to make plans, but right now I’m not worried about what could happen in months. I need to find the caves Ryan was talking about and take some rations over there so that we have somewhere to go when this hurricane inevitably hits.”

“It might not come.” You argue, more hopeful than right.

“It will.” Bucky assures you. “And I can’t afford to get distracted until we’ve gotten all that setup. We will have this conversation just not yet. Okay? I know you’re worried. So am I.”

“And excited?” You check, a little timidly because yes, although you’re worried, you can’t deny the appeal that having Bucky’s baby holds.

A little one running around that looks like him? Sounds like him? The baby could very well look like you and sound like you too and that wouldn’t be so bad, but a little Bucky is too appealing not to hope for.

Bucky leans towards you, reaching to place his hand over yours as his eyes soften. “Of course, kitten. Yes, I’m excited too. It would be much sooner than I was hoping but I meant it when I said that I wanted this with you.”

Relief washes over you and you’re able to relax a little.

“But we’ll have time for that after I make sure I have somewhere safe for us to go.” He takes his hand back, focusing on his food once again.

You allow him to eat in silence for a bit, leaning back against the palm log as you watch the horizon with unfocused eyes.

A terrible thought has been growing in your mind for a while now. A thought you’ve been too scared to speak aloud for fear of robbing Bucky of his hope. The more determined he gets though you know you can’t avoid it any longer.

“Bucky?”

“Hm?”

“Bucky what if he lied about that too?” You try to subdue your fear as best you can, but you know you can’t hide it all. “What if he was dropped off on the island at some point and then came and joined us as the co-pilot-”

No, wait. You do remember seeing him on the plane though. He really was the co-pilot. Still…

“What if he jumped out and got picked up and then sent back to make sure you were dead? What if there are no caves? What if there’s nowhere safe on the island to sit through a stronger hurricane than the one when we crashed here?”

“The mountains on the other side of the island are large and they go on for almost the entire shoreline. Even if he made up his caves, I’m sure there are some. There has to be.” Bucky insists, determination invigorating his voice. “I’ll find us somewhere safe, kitten. I promise.”

“You’ve been promising me somewhere safe since we landed here. I’m starting to think you mean it.” You tease and hope it’s enough to draw a smile after the cloud you just summoned.

Lucky you, it works, and Bucky huffs a small laugh.

“I love you.” He tells you, voice low and soft.

“I love you, too.”

As the two of you stupidly get lost in each other’s eyes, the sudden sound of a voice echoes in the heated air.

You can’t make out what it says, but it’s clear though distant.

Both your faces are overcome with confusion as you continue to stare at each other.

“What was that?” You wonder, and Bucky shakes his head.

The voice is louder this time, still unintelligible but still clear enough to be a voice.

Bucky suddenly bolts up, turning and running down along the beach from where he’d come.

“Bucky?” You hurry up, chasing after him.

He stops suddenly and squints towards the rocks that jut out into the water blocking the side of the island where you have the nets set up.

“What is it?” You gasp, tired from the run to keep up.

“Shh.” Bucky orders and you swallow hard, trying desperately to quiet your breathing.

“Can anyone hear me?” The voice says, deep and easy. “I am looking for a decrepit old man, probably grumpy. Most definitely surly and usually wearing a frown. Long hair. Needs a cut. Worse looking than me.”

From around the rocks comes a boat, a small vessel meant to travel from a larger ship to land. On it is a whole crew of marines. At the bow holding a steel gray megaphone to his lips is a handsome black man, sturdily built wearing a familiar red and gray suit.

“Bucky…” You gasp, your heart nearly seizing as your brain tries to process the fact that there is a boat full of soldiers right offshore.

“Sam?” Bucky whispers, too shocked to speak any louder.

As this Sam spots the two of you, he breaks into a smile and drops the megaphone to slap against his thigh. He’s ecstatic to see Bucky and when he lifts the megaphone back to his mouth, he laughs once.

“You are a pain in my ass, Barnes.” Sam says, smirking at him from the boat as it stops far enough out that it’ll be an easy swim to reach them. “Why am I always looking for you and why can’t you make it easier? I’m putting a chip in your ass as soon as we get back home.”

[haechanhues]

pairing : enhypen x reader (mostly platonic but can be open romantically) 

genre : friendship tingz (is that a genre?) social media. bullet points. 

warnings : swearing a bit and slightest mention of sex like once or twice. some are longer than others. 

summary : these are your friends. cherish em. love em. pick on them. make connections. 

Not too long before ENHYPEN’s new comeback, are you all excited? 

Back

HEESEUNG 

You met Heeseung when you were younger - he was playing with three lizard toys and you had wanted the pink one and so, being the nice kid he was, gave you the green one instead 

Has been your best friend ever since 

You once stepped on a broken glass bottle and he cried more than you did 

When you were waiting for your dad one afternoon after school (your dad was always ridiculously late) you both made a long handshake that you couldn’t remember the next day 

You’ve caught him trying to act cute multiple times by making eye contact in the mirror and he yelled at you for judging him 

‘STOP LAUGHING AT ME’ 

‘YOU’RE SO MEAN TO ME’ 

Ramyeon addict 

Everywhere you two go 

There’s ramyeon in his bag 

You’ve kissed each other a couple of times 

Never done it again 

Thought about it once, and then fed yourself and that thought disappeared 

You’ve had some stupid fights 

eg who has to pick up the rubbish on the ground 

peanuts 

Serious fights 

Past partners and their boundaries 

Why you ate his leftover ramyeon he was saving for a ‘special occasion’ that special occasion being Friday night 

SUNOO

When you became friends, Heeseung was jealous of him and thought Sunoo was trying to take his best friend away from him 

Twitter demon 

Sweeter in person

Sometimes 

Always running around and trying to sell you off 

‘Do you know of a Y/N Y/L/N? Well you’re absolutely lucky because she’s absolutely single, hit her up’ 

‘HER NUMBER IS 555-’ 

Got you two both cute matching character PJs 

You both co-own a Tik Tok account 

Well 

Actually 

too be honest you’re just a featuring act at this point 

One time you were sick for a week and he had made a video on all the stuff you missed out on 

Because he gets sick often, you buy him a lot of thick blankets, clothes and always get him jackets because you’re worried he’d get sick 

Literally the bane of your existence on Twitter 

Seriously 

He gets away with it though and he knows he will (him and Niki) 

NIKI

The other boys get jealous of how nice you are to him 

Comes to you for daily cuddles 

Sometimes doesn’t get it 

The baby knows how to guilt trip you 

But when you want cuddles, he’s suddenly too cool for you 

Teaches you swear words in Japanese to say to Jay and the other boys 

Uses your email when he thinks it’s spam or for his own orders so you had to make another email 

People always ask if he’s your little brother 

You’ll both be bored one day and sit side by side on the floor 

He’d offer his airpod for you to listen and you’d both be red in the face trying not to giggle at try not to laugh videos you two are always watching

Both go to the movies together

You’re paying

He always gets the biggest size even though he can’t finish it

‘It’s a popcorn party’ 

Always throws the leftovers on Jay or Sunoo

Whatever he wants, he gets. 

You’re his best friend. No shit you are. He loves you. He really does. 

JAKE

Always squeezing his cheekies 

Your girl friends always ship the two of you together (NO) 

They saw him in the background of your video call

You take a lot of photos together 

A Yes-Man when it comes to your ideas and is literally the hype man you want 

Always

Lost a bet to him and so he signed you up for a soccer tournament where you’re not exactly good but you’re decent 

You do a lot of planning together but you don’t really execute it unless Jungwon, Heeseung or Jay are involved 

Tend to bump into each other when you walk side by side

Heeseung refers to you both as Thomson and Thompson from Tin Tin because you’re both really smart 

But he makes you act dumb 

And he reassures you a lot 

Got you waxing strips because you wanted to try it and accidentally got it stuck on the hair of the back of your neck and so, being the nice boy he is, did it to himself 

His eyes watered :( 

But it was funny :) 

Always bringing you out into the world more so you don’t cramp up inside 

JUNGWON

He’s a little mean to you - all in good fun of course

You go to him for advice about this boy or girl you’re talking to 

Don’t tell him but you love talking to him 

About his day 

Ideas for a new movie 

About this new boy/girl you’re talking to 

Sometimes you feel distant from him in comparison to the other boys 

You always go for little walks with him every now and then 

One time he grew out his hair purely so you could play with it 

In his sleep you drew cat whiskers on him with eyeliner 

When you moved into your own apartment, he was the only one that could help out and collapsed on your bed and stayed the night with you 

Again : people asked if you were dating 

Once again : No 

Should really write a FAQ and just staple it to your forehead 

When the washing machine is full at yours, you both take your washing to a laundromat and chat away - you get pizza delivered to the laundromat and scoff it down so the others don’t catch you out - you both turn to each other to wipe the crumbs off and spray perfume on your clothes - for the memory box he writes it down on the receipt

Always full of laughs 

Never a dull moment 

Can just chill together or do something mischievous and fun 

JAY

Accidentally confessed that you’d f*ck him if you were the last people alive on Earth and he’s never let you live it down

Made a collage of all the photos you have on your phone and others and his mother wanted her own copy to hang in her living room 

‘Can you wear this?’ 

‘Oooh’ 

‘GUESS WHAT’ 

Always trying to style you when you go shopping because your fashion sense isn’t up to par apparently 

You always catch him taking selfies and always clown him 

Argued about the shape of an elephant nose once 

Cried 

Said your apologies with snot running down your noses 

When you made up and came out of the room, Heeseung and Jungwon mimicked elephant noises 

Spams you with celebrities that pop up in his feed that he knows you like 

You don’t like to talk about it  but once when you were doing a speech assignment, you had to hold his hand to refrain from crying and he rubbed his thumb over the back of your knuckle and didn’t let go until class had ended and you were more relaxed

Although you kind of sort of like to make fun of him 

He’s always the first one to look after you if you needed someone 

The type to message you if you were doing okay 

Can’t look at you when you’re crying so awkwardly has to angle his head the other way and comfort you without looking 

SUNGHOON

A lot of past 

At first you both had crushes on each other (he was the last to join your friendship group, tall, handsome, really kind, always wanted to make him smile) 

Considered the Dark Ages 

Jungwon likes to rehash the memory every now and then when your guard is down 

For your birthday he gifted you a stool so you can ‘grow’ 

That ruffled your feathers 

Always the one to make short jokes when in your opinion you’re not even that short 

Tried to teach you how to ice skate but was slightly disappointed you knew how to stay upright 

Girls tend to give you their numbers and little notes made for Sunghoon because they’re too shy 

He’s super comfortable with you. You always make sure he’s included and make sure his voice is heard and he’s not being taken for granted. 

You checked him out once and he caught you. 

‘You’re blushing.’

‘I’VE STILL GOT IT’ 

Jungwon laughed cause he sees and knows everything 

Silently protective of you - one time a guy tried to ask you out and he laughed like 

ha ha ha 

until he left 

tells everyone it’s your birthday on the wrong date so you’re getting your birthday wishes a month earlier. 

also gets the freebies because apparently it’s your anniversary every other thursday. 

‘JUST DATE ALREADY’ 

[dangermousie]

2020 End of Year Post - kdrama edition

You can find my 2020 cdrama post here: dangermousie.tumblr.com/post/638449659546845184/2020-end-of-year-post-cdrama-edition

This is only going to cover kdramas that aired in 2020; if it originally aired another year, it’s not on this list.

It’s been a pretty lackluster kdrama year. There are probably only 5 kdramas I truly loved and only three of them I was really obsessed over. Better luck in 2021!

DRAMAS WATCHED

(In order of liking from least to most as opposed to pure quality; I am including if I’ve seen enough to make up my mind; yes I realize that’s inaccurate, but that’s my list)

42 Born Again - so bad, so incoherent, so insane, I have no idea why the leads signed up for it (and unlike some of the other watchers, I think it was awful from the very start.) There is literally nothing about this drama that makes sense.

41 Love with Flaws - a bunch of people who should be tried under the Geneva Convention.

40 Sweet Munchies - Jung Il Woo proves his inability to pick a functional script.

39 Meow the Secret Boy - if you ever wanted to bang a cat, this drama is for you. Not being a furry, however...

38 Do Do Sol Sol La Sol - I lost braincells just typing out this title.

37 When I Was the Most Beautiful - the only way it’s not the dumbest, most pointless melo of 2020 is because Born Again considerately came out the same year.

36 Woman of 9.9 Billion - if you want to watch an artsy French movie about miserable people, but only badly made, boy do I have a drama for you.

35 Lies after Lies - screams after screams.

34 Backstreet Rookie - people were up in arms about various problematic plots. I am a survivor of many plots much more problematic but even I couldn’t survive how utterly boring and annoying this drama was and how utterly irritating the leads were. This has taken Ji Chang Wook off my top favorites into “should I even check his latest Lovestruck in the City? Probably not” territory almost single-handedly (Melt Me helped, to be fair.)

33 Men Are Men - boring is boring.

32 Dinner Mate - two beautiful boring people eat out a lot.

31 Was It Love - no it wasn’t.

30 Alice - Joo Won in the shower can make up for a multitude of sins but not plot nonsense of such magnitude. When you find yourself thinking it would be better if he hooked up with the alternate universe version of his mother because at least then something entertaining would happen, you know it’s bad.

29 More than Friends - started out OK, then made me hate basically everyone and kept going.

28 Start-Up - honestly, it’s probably more decent than its place here, but the toxic and batshit fandom for it (the worst this year) made me feel like breaking out in hives any time it’s even mentioned.

27 The Spies who Loved Me - how to take a good cast and waste it.

26 Private Lives - it was good but it never took off with its concept and spent more time on the incoherent plot than the OTP which was its one strength. It’s a decent drama but coming after Heartless City and My Beautiful Bride from the same writer, it’s a disappointment.

25 Record of Youth - as high as it is due to Park Bo Gum hard carrying this entire awful drama on his shoulders and doing it so well I finished it. Alas, while he is in one drama (and that drama is great), the rest of the characters and the entirety of the script are a pointless useless mess.

24 Do You Like Brahms - excellent first third, mediocre middle, and terrible last third. I don’t know what musical term applies to this? Diminuendo, I think.

23 I’ll Go to You When the Weather is Nice - nice and mellow but nothing much happens.

22 Forest - mainly for Park Hae Jin’s excellent and frequently naked bod.

21 The Ballot - I didn’t love it as much as everyone did but it was well-made.

20 Hyena - more romance and less weird law stuff would make it better.

19 365 Repeat the Year - surprisingly solid.

18 The Game Towards Zero - see 365.

17 When My Love Blooms - very old fashioned, very lovely.

16 Chocolate - also very old fashioned and very lovely but also with Yoon Kye Sang performing medical procedures bleeding and shirtless. MMM.

15 (tie) Secret Royal Inspector - a fun if run of the mill sageuk.

15 Find Me In Your Memory - best melo this year.

14 Mystic Pop Up Bar - surprisingly good even though I wasn’t planning to check it out.

13 Where Your Eyes Linger - came out of nowhere but was tender and hopeful and lovely.

12 Itaewon Class - Park Seo Joon hard carries a drama that is already excellent. Love it.

11 Psychopath Diary - Yoon Shi Yoon is such a treat in a hilarious, cynical, dark comedy.

10 Kairos - more like ouroboros.

9 Queen Love and War - in a year where sageuks are very rare, this was solid and surprisingly moving and shippy.

8 The King Eternal Monarch - people didn’t like it but I did. It’s no masterpiece and both the leads and the writers have better dramas, but it was a lovely romantic fairy tale for me.

7 Mr. Queen - sharp, hilarious, and some of my favorite actors.

6 Psycho But It’s OK - healing, sharp cinematography and even sharper chemistry.

5 Crash Landing on You - the last ep pissed me off so much this drama is dead to me but I loved it so much until then I can’t place it lower in good conscience.

4 Train - who knew I would go this hard for an OCN drama or that OCN would do romance so well? But this time-travel mystery romance is just incredible and I shipped the OTP and rooted for the characters and loved every last bit of it.

3 Run On - this is the drama Record of Youth wanted to be but failed. Smart and lived in, you feel like you are peeking at real people, but also even four episodes in, I am so invested in the main characters separately and together, and care for them so much, it’s a little frightening.

1 (tie) Tale of the Nine Tailed - my perfect fantasy romance. I liked it better than Goblin, yeah I said it.

1 Flower of Evil - all the tropes I love in one incredible package. I would rewatch episodes waiting for new ones trying to puzzle the story and to stay withdrawal but it works just as well on rewatch. Lee Jun Ki brings his trademark tortured intensity and for once, both his leading lady and his script back him up and are worthy of that. It’s perfect.

FAVORITE DRAMA

It’s a tie between Tale of the Nine Tailed and Flower of Evil but if I had to pick just one, FoE, because it had me seriously obsessed and guessing about the protagonist and gave me the narrative tropes I love so much and an OTP that statisfied all my hurt/comfort kinks and then some.

WORST DRAMA

Born Again - honestly, this is so bonkers it almost becomes good but alas...

FAVORITE MALE CHARACTER

Do Hyun Soo/Baek Hee Sung, Flower of Evil - he is so messed up, so on edge, so traumatized. Yet capable of so much warmth and caring even as he himself doesn’t realize his humanity. FoE is basically a story of a man pushed and punished by the world for his entire life who, because of one woman, finds a safe place and peace and slowly comes to life without realizing it, and watching his desperation to keep this small bit of normalcy is so heartbreaking and exciting all at once. Plus, you start the drama thinking he’s a psychopathic serial killer and end it (if you are me) thinking he must be protected at all costs and if anyone even looks at him wrong they must suffer, and that’s quite a change!

FAVORITE FEMALE CHARACTER

Nam Ji Ah, Tale of the Nine Tailed - she is so funny and tough and smart and loving and amazing that I will totally buy that a literal demi-god will do anything and everything for her and love her for literal eternity.

NEEDS TO BE MURDERED

Dad in Record of Youth - yes in a year with serial killers and supernatural demons, I picked a normal character from a mediocre drama. It’s his everyday awfulness to his family that hits so hard and I am sad he never got his comeuppance.

FAVORITE SHIP

Ji Ah x Yeon - a fearless reporter and an immortal demi-god who’s been hoping for his human beloved to reincarnate. A really rare set-up where the OTP is equally ride or die, so compatible and completely BAMF. I got why he waited for her for that long and then fell in love with her all over again. Perfection.

Runner up: Flower of Evil - he is so messed up he literally does not believe he is capable of love or empathy, but he falls in love with her anyway and so utterly she permeates his entire life. She is tough as nails and only believes what she sees and is the sole person who believes in him against the world. She loves him but he needs her. She needs him but he loves her. They are amazing.

FAVORITE SECONDARY OTP

Seo Dan x Gu Seung Jun, Crash Landing on You, North Korean x Conman were so good I shipped them harder than the main OTP and the end of that storyline pissed me off so much I dumped the drama and didn’t finish it for months (and it’s still dead to me.)

NOTP

Record of Youth - it started out and they didn’t have much chemistry but the dialogues were interesting and I thought the chemistry would grow. It didn’t and deteriorated, their dialogues became boring and relationship had zero development (about as much as the supposed female lead.) I think we were supposed to feel bad they broke up and they were going for a bittersweet open ending, instead I found myself happy about the break up of two incompatible, chemistry-less people and hoping for the love of God they never get back together.

FAVORITE SCENE

Yeon and the bridge of knives, Tale of the Nine Tailed - Yeon choosing to undergo the creeptastic bridge of knives for a chance to save Ji Ah, who at that point he is not aware is the reincarnation of his Joseon love because, as he says, he doesn’t care if she is or isn’t, it just would be more horrible to have her die than to undergo the horrific torture he is undergoing, and then the sequence with his catching her, her weeping over him and the fact that she is the original Joseon girl revealed and all the bandaging and his watching her sleep and all that loveliness, is everything for yours truly.

Runner up: Hyun Soo having that break-down at the cliff at the end of ep 15 of Flower of Evil as Ji Won desperately tries to convince him she is alive and he finally stumbles to her.

Runner runner up (it’s my list, I will do what I want): Do Won preparing to blow his brains out to give a chance to Seo Kyung to live in Train.

BIGGEST CRUSH

Seon-Gyeom, Run On. Yeah, I know. Im Siwan is tiny, delicate featured and has a runner’s build, none of which are things that normally appeal to me. But his character is so odd, so honest, so unflinching in pursuing what he thinks is right, so incapable of self-pity despite plenty of reasons for it, and so ridiculously attractive when he smiles, I don’t even care.

BEST SCENE STEALER CHARACTER

Kim Bum, TotNT - I started out being annoyed by him and ended up looking forward to his scenes and being distraught by his ending.

NEEDS A SEQUEL

Honestly, none. I was fine with all the endings. I wouldn’t mind seeing post-end life of Tale of the Nine Tailed characters or the OTP settling into their literal new world in Train, but I am good.

TROPE THAT NEEDS TO DIE

Time jump that solves all the problems off screen or alternatively years pass and everyone is frozen - something that kdramas need to learn and need to learn badly. See Record of Youth, Brahms and Start Up.

FAVORITE TROPE WE’VE SEEN A LOT OF

Men who are ride or die for their OTP - this was a great year for this - the male leads of four of my five dramas were beyond anything on that scale (only exception is Run On because it’s still too early to tell there.) Yes PLEASE.

BIGGEST DISAPPOINTMENT

This was a banner year for that what with Start Up, Do You Like Brahms, Record of Youth, and Private Lives all starting out well and nosediving off the cliff but winner is Crash Landing on You. I loved it so much for bulk of its run but the last episode pissed me off so much I deleted all my files and called it a day.

BIGGEST GOOD SURPRISE

Flower of Evil - I had no expectations of this drama and wasn’t even planning on watching it despite liking both the lead actors because yet another “look at evil serial killer be evil” drama with no romance was not my thing. Luckily someone convinced me there might be some romance and I peeked curiously. Honestly, their promo campaign was the most misleading and dumbest thing ever.

Runner up Psycho but it’s OK - I have never liked Kim Soo Hyun in anything before and the drama premise seemed WTF but it was shockingly good and KSH totally blew me away.

Hardest Working Lead

Yoon Shi Yoon - he starred in two (!!!) dramas in 2020 playing three characters and not only were both these dramas awesome in a lackluster year, but if it wasn’t for the fact that I knew it was the same actor and the fact that the characters shared a face, I would have never believed that they were played by the same actor. So good!

2020 DRAMAS I HAVEN’T SEEN THAT I MOST WANT TO WATCH

None. Covid Year gave me PLENTY of time

BEST NON-2020 DRAMA I’VE WATCHED IN 2020

My Beautiful Bride and Deserving of the Name - I was obsessed with both of them and honestly, they were much better than the bulk of 2020 kdramas I watched.

MOST ANTICIPATED IN 2021

The Moon That Rises in the Day, Hong Chun Gi, Joseon Exorcist, Island,  Frightening Cohabitation, Snowdrop.

[uswnt-keeper]

Focus Isn’t My Strong Suit

Prompt by @cpaeralricey: Can you do a Kelley x youngersister!reader quarantining together and the reader has to to do School online but struggles cause of their ADHD and just lots of fluff and Kelley helping the crazy kid out. Does that make any sense? If not don’t worry about it.

Note before we start. Sorry if this is terrible, I don’t have ADHD so I don’t really know what it’s like, I tried to make this is fun as possible. Also just for future reference I will no longer be writing Kelley, Alex, or JJ fics. (There will be my final Alex post today, but that’s it).

This royally sucked... like to a whole other level of sucking... does that sound weird? It sounds weird, oh well... whatever. That’s not the point, the point is, I’m stuck doing online school, which normally isn’t that bad, but it all kind of happened all at once.

You see, I’d been flown out to visit Kelley, my older sister, in my spring break which happened to be at the beginning of March. I hadn’t seen her in a long time between her traveling for different teams, and I missed her. I miss all of my siblings honestly. Jerry was off doing business man things, and Erin was off hanging with her besties on some beach somewhere. Kelley was the youngest of my older siblings, but shes 32, I’m 16, big age difference there. I’d been adopted by my family at a young age and so, of course there would be an age difference, but they were family and Kelley and I were close.

Anyway, back to my main point of how much this sucked. The nation went on lockdown literally a week into my stay, I couldn’t leave for the airport or anything and Kelley’s games and trainings were suspended after the SheBelieves cup, even the Olympics were cancelled. So I was stuck, but that wasn’t what sucked, I was with Kelley, that was great, but then came online school.

Online school, for someone like me, is the worst possible option. I struggled with ADHD and paying attention in a normal class, but sitting on my own in a room of distractions would be even worse, I mean... how was I NOT suppose to say dream or cheat on a test?!

Not only that, but I was awaiting my prescription, we had to start ordering it so it shipped to Kelley’s apartment in Utah. So with that going on, we were now in late March and we realized it would be another day before my pills arrives... and I was out.

“Kelley!” I yelled from my bathroom, looking at the empty bottle.

Kelley came rushing in, “What, what is it?!”

“I’m out of meds,” I said hyper focused on the writing on the bottle.

“Oh.... OH WHAT?!” She grabbed the bottle out my hands, shaking the orange container around as if she was trying to summon more pills to her.

“It’s just a day, it won’t be that bad right?” I said and Kelley looked at me with a glare.

“When was the last time you weren’t on your meds?” She asked.

I thought about it for a moment, “Uhh, probably before I was diagnosed.”

“So when you were bouncing off the walls?” She asked and I shrugged, walking out the bathroom.

“Look, I have school in like... oh actually I’m late,” I said looking at my phone, it was only 8, but class started at 7:45.

Kelley groaned as I rushed to my laptop, she had moved to the dining table after finding me staring at my ceiling for an entire class, she was fun as a sister, but her feeling of responsibly over me was unbearable.

I logged into the class with my camera off, apologizing for being late and I made up some random excuse. I looked to Kelley who had just walked out of my room, and she rolled her eyes at me and tossed me t-shirt. I muted myself and looked at her confused.

“You forgot to put one on,” she said before I could ask and I looked down at myself realizing she was right, so I begrudgingly pulled in on with a huff.

After my first class, I had my second period, which was a study hall, and I hated it, all I ever did was stare at off into space, which ended up happening this time too. I went through the whole school day, completely unable to focus on anything as I felt my ADHD consume my movements and thoughts.

“Y/N!” Kelley snapped me out of my trance, I realized she sat in front of me, working on something of her own, “Your teacher asked you a question,” she said.

I unmuted myself to apologize before asking her to repeat the question. The one good thing about ADHD was that I often retained large chunks of info if it was interesting enough, so I had the knowledge to answer the question this time.

When I muted myself again I sighed, it was times liked these I hated my condition, it was unbearable and made me miss so much shit.

“You okay Speedster?” A nickname Kelley had gifted me at the age of 4 when I literally couldn’t stop running around, it’s fitting now as I’ve followed in her footsteps and started playing soccer.

“I hate not being able to focus,” I complained and finally, as I said that, the class was over.

“Well,” Kelley started, closing my laptop for me, “Maybe you should walk around or something, get some focus back?” She asked, I sighed again, it was the best idea so far, “I’ll be here if you if you need me.”

I stood up, taking my computer to my room and threw it on the bed. There was no way I could focus on doing yoga or lifting weights, not at all. All I wanted to do was run around, do anything but what I was doing. It was probably about 5 minutes in my room before I rushed out my room, heading to the kitchen to search Kelley’s cabinets.

“What are you doing in there?” Kelley turned after I rummaged for a few minutes.

“Food,” I replied.

“If your hungry I can make you sandwich or something,” she said, looking away from her computer.

“Ughhhhh,” I complained, “A sandwich sounds so boring,” I groaned and she rolled her eyes at me, going back to the meeting she was in.

I left the kitchen, heading back to my room, sitting on my bed feeling restless. I tried writing and reading, I even did some homework, but eventually I got bored again, and I felt antsy. That is, until I found something I could compare to gold.

“No way,” I whispered to myself, pulling two things out from under the guest bed, “This is gonna be so much fun.”

Kelley’s POV

I was worried about Y/N, I knew she would feel bad about her ADHD, usually I’d go distract her, but I was caught in this stupid meeting for another few minutes. I was listening to what my manager was saying amongst the other people there, until something stung me.

I flinched, looking at my arm, then around me and at the floor, finding a... nerf bullet?

There was a click and another one hit my temple this time.

“Ow,” I complained, looking to where I heard giggling.

It was Y/N of course, hiding behind a cardboard cut out of me with a nerf gun reaching around it.

“Y/N, don’t you—“ She shot me again, laughing hysterically, I turned to my computer, “Listen guys, I’m gonna have to go, got something to sort out,” I said and they nodded as I logged off.

Y/N looked at me with a challenge, if this is what she needed to calm down, then I guess a little match wouldn’t be bad.

“It is so on,” I said, reaching into one of the kitchen cabinets.

“WHAT?! You have a nerf gun just sitting in your kitchen?!”

“Never know when it might come in handy,” I shot at her, the bullet sticking itself right in her forehead and she huffed and smiled.

“I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“You wish,” I replied.

Turns out the one round turned into three hours of an intense and heated nerf battle, ending with Y/N surrendering to the couch where sweat fell from her head.

“Alright, alright, you win,” she said exhausted for once and I plopped down on the couch next to her.

“Told you I’d kick your butt,” I said.

“Surrendering doesn’t mean you kicked my butt,” she complained and I laughed.

“How you feeling?” I asked, looking to her now.

“Exhausted for the first time today,” she said with a smile, “Never thought I’d be happy to be tired.”

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her in to a hug, “You know there’s nothing wrong with your ADHD right?” I asked and she shrugged, “If you ever feel bad about it, remember that you can totally start a nerf war and it’s completely justified,” I said and she laughed.

“Thanks Kell.”

“Anytime kiddo.”

There was a pause.

“Do you have food?”

“I knew you wanted something.”

She laughed again and we spent the rest of the night eating and watching movies until we fell into a deep sleep.