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stuckybarton · 2 years

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Me and My Husband One Shot I

Concept: the best way to rile Stephen up is by wearing his clothes Summary: Winter in New York was the worst, and you wanted to be warm as much as you could, stealing a few of your husband’s sweaters was your way of dealing with it and Stephen was more than pleased with the little crime. But best remember, no crime goes unpunished. Characters: Stephen Strange x Wife!Reader. Wong. Warnings: Mention of Sexual Acts. Territorial!Stephen(?). Cockblocking. Interruptions. Mention of Injuries. Words: 2,271 A/N: @sunshineyrosie: It's been nearly four months since you've sent this to me 😨😥😩 I'm really sorry, I never ignored you or anything, just trying to toy with the idea and just got something to write now. Hope you still enjoy tho.

MAMH MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST ||

Sweater Weather

Shiver continued to linger in your body all throughout the day. One of the few things you had hated about New York was the snow. The never ending and horrible snow that had you also dealing with the snow that would eventually you had to deal with if you wanted to get out of the Sanctum to get to work. It was the reason why you had been enjoying your time in California—you would take the heat over the cold any day.

Even with the fireplace burning—too much to the brink of starting a fire all throughout the Sanctum, you still felt the cold through your bones. In times like this, you would have dragged your husband to bed, cuddling into his warmth or deal with working overtime in the ever comforting warmth of the Compound you had been thankfully working for a good year now. But you couldn’t do either, for one, your husband was in Kamar-Taj handling yet another impending world threat that you know nothing about and the fact that your boss, Tony Stark, had placed his foot down in the never ending hours you’ve put working as part of the Medical Team and forced you to go on a fully paid and fully encouraged 2-week vacation, for the first few days you tried ignoring but had learned later on your entire access to the compound was voided just to make sure you make the most out of it.

Now stuck at home, without much to do than clean things that had always and constantly been cleaned by Wong, you were left to your own device while your husband deals with whatever was going on in Kathmandu.

The idea struck you as you tried to wrap the weighted blanket around you, hopping down from the bed, you made your way to the closet. Rummaging through your husband’s clothes, looking for the familiar baby blue hoodie. You let out a squeal upon pulling it out of the vintage closet drawer.

Without an ounce of hesitation, you slipped the hoodie on and was immediately enveloped in its warmth and the familiar scent of your husband.

Freely able to move now with the added article of clothing, you went about your day. This being the second day since your husband was gone, and the fifth day of your forcedvacation. From the last text your husband had sent out, he and Wong would be back by Monday, which meant you still had two more days all on your own, dwindling your thumbs and/or moving furniture and artifacts around just to get a rise out of Wong.

Two more days having to deal with the cold and the boredom.

Your eyes lingered once again on the closet and the smile on your face grew bigger. Well at least the cold problem was dealt with—all you had to deal with was while your husband was gone was the boredom—but with the array of books in the library, you might not be as bored as you initially think you would be.

“It is unlike you to be this…hyper.” It was Wong that finally took notice of how Stephen was acting for the past few days of their arrival in Kamar-Taj.

Stephen tried his best not to be distracted by the small little fact that you were at home alone. Something so rare with how much of a workaholic you were. Learning about the ultimatum given to you by one Tony Stark, fates had been playing a big joke on him as he was now the one spending his time away from you in the rare instance of your availability.

“If you have a wife that easily gets bored and a Sanctum filled with multiple artifacts that could potentially destroy the world, I’d want to be home as soon as possible.” He points out good naturedly.

You were still trying to understand Stephen’s way of life—away from being a Doctor and now as a Sorcerer (not a Wizard as he often corrects you), and but you know well enough to never touch things you know nothing about. But—curiosity did kill the cat and he was afraid you would be placing yourself in harm’s way without you even knowing and while just trying to kill time until he was back in the Sanctum.

“I’m sure Y/N isn’t as irresponsible.” Wong points out and Stephen knew perfectly well who he was trying to compare you with.

“I take offence to that.” Stephen muttered projecting a teleportation ring that would lead the both of them right back to the Sanctum and him right back into your arms.

“As you should.” Wong spoke and as soon as the both of them were welcomed with the familiar Sanctum and the slightly colder air, the scent of a hearty food was the next thing the pair had come to notice.

Both of them had made their way to the kitchen, something that had been rarely used before your arrival but in the rare instance that you were on your day-offs were spent here. Making both Stephen and Wong anything their hearts desired—it seemed like a heart stew was something they never thought they needed.

Stephen was silent, lingering his eyes towards you with your back to the both of them. Without even taking a closer look, he knew perfectly well that you were wearing his sweatshirt, and even his button down shirt peaking from under said sweatshirt, the fact that you also had his sweatpants that was far too big for you got to him. There was just something about how he could mark you as his by his clothes you wore and the big rock on your finger was also a close second to the possession he has over you.

His eyes lingered on your hips, how they swayed to the music on your phone. You were in your Rihanna phase and are now singing your own rendition of Kiss It Better, trying and failing to belt out the high notes before continuing on with stirring your cooking.

Memories of your shared time in Med School was a memory he always loved to linger on. How he had so much exams to finish for the finals and you practically were besides him all the way no matter how much he tried to push you away—you were there to support him in any way he would need and in whatever he never thought he would.

“Smells nice.” It was Wong that finally broke the silence and earning a squeak from you as you turned to face the pair.

“You’re home.” You spoke almost breathless before turning off the stove and placing the wooden spoon by the pot, you made your way to them, wrapping your arms around both Stephen and Wong—which the man was still trying his best to get used do since your arrival. He never thought the once cold and volatile estrange wife that was hell bent on divorcing Stephen would be this affectionate. “I thought you’d be back later tonight.”

“Things got resolved earlier than expected.” He spoke not wanting you to know he was more than willing to finish the formalities and just head home to you and spend the rest of your vacation in bed and have Wong deal with the world for a while.

“Then you’re right on time for the Stew. I made your favorite.” You grinned turning to look at Wong now, a part of Stephen was jealous that you thought of Wong first before him. “And I made your favorite dessert so get that pout out of the way.” You glanced right back at your husband before pulling away from him.

Late Lunch was good as it always was when you made it. All throughout, Stephen couldn’t help but stare at you, how you were fully decked up in his clothes. The erection he had been trying his best to control since they came back home was torture to deal with. Even as he tried to distract himself with listening to your random conversation with Wong about songs you’ve been listening to and the movies you’ve binge while in bed.

“Wong, I swear to God if you don’t let go of those dishes.” You playfully threaten when Wong had volunteered to wash the dishes.

“I think you and your husband need to catch up, dishes will be wash more effectively without him looming around.” Wong winked right at him and this was his chance to finally get you alone after days apart.

After another minute of trying to convince Wong you can do the dishes and given a resounding insistence that he could do it, you had joined your husband upstairs to your shared bedroom.

“Still have the rest of the week off right?” He inquired unclasping his cape that was quick to slip out of the bedroom knowing what was to come in a few moments between the husband and wife.

“Unfortunately.” You spoke slumping down the bed with a gentle bounce. Rolling onto your stomach, you could only smile and watch your husband undress in front of you. “But with the show I’m having right now, I might start to enjoy the time off.”

Stephen couldn’t help but smirk at your playfulness now. In nothing but his boxers on, your eyes were glued to him—to the evident tent hiding from under the boxers.

“Looks like someone missed me.” You teased.

“I could say the same about you.” He quipped pointing at your choice of clothing.

“I have a kleptomaniac tendency when it comes to your clothes, you have married me either way.” You rolled your eyes.

“I never said it was a bad thing.” He assured making his way to the bed, nudging you to roll on your back which you were quick to do, with excitement rolling through your system because of it. “I think it’s kind of hot.”

Now straddling you, his eyes lingered on the sweatshirt how he was itching to just tear it off but control his urges knowing it was his favorite. Without missing a beat, he pulled the sweatshirt off of you instead and was welcomed with the sight that almost had him coming on his boxers.

The button down shirt was left unbuttoned and the sight of your exposed and stiff peaked breast were in full display for him to feast about.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“I’m sure you can bring yourself back to life right after.” You teased, hands making their way to his erection. Rubbing him gently. “I mean, who can flat out say they died due to killer sex, right?” You purred craning your head to meet with your husband’s blazing gaze.

“Touche.” He smirked cupping his wife’s cheeks. “God I missed you.”

“Missed you too, Ste.” You grinned eyes twinkling. “Do you have you for the rest of the week or do I have to compete with Wong for your Attention this time?”

“You got me all week, I promise.” He spoke with certainty. Something he had discussed with Wong while in Kamar-Taj. There was a momentary peace for all of them and he wanted to make the most out of it knowing how rare it was for him or for his wife to have this time alone.

Before he could lean in for a kiss—the sound of a phone ringing both broke the moment for the two of them. Had it been your personal phone, you would have ignored it and continued on with what was about to happen with your husband, but it was different. It was the sound of your work phone and if it was ringing something was wrong.

Without even waiting for your request to move off of you, Stephen found himself standing back up, deflated for whatever reason as you made your way to your phone to answer the phone. Seeing your initial excitement of your husband being home change into that of disappointment as you continued to talk to whoever was on the other line—at the mention of coming in an hour meant the week off was ruined.

Finally, when you hanged up and looked at your husband sheepishly, the weekend plan was—for the most part ruined.

“Rogers and Stark are compromised and they need as much help as the possibly could—even me.” You explained.

“Let me change and I’ll come along.” He grumbled turning back to his closet for something to wear but found close to half of his clothes were missing. “Were you wearing all of my clothes while I was gone?”

“I left some button-down shirt and your jeans, so stop complaining, Ste.” You giggled hopping down the bed to get a quick change of clothes yourself.

“Douchebag cockblocking me without even knowing it.” He muttered suddenly pulled into your arms.

“Why don’t you stay in my apartment in the compound? Once I’m done patching the two up, we can do whatever you like?” You offered looking lustfully down on the softening tent in his boxers.

“Anything?”

“Anything that involves us in bed in nothing but our birthday suit.” You agreed.

“But I like you in my clothes.” He pointed out, tossing you another one of his sweatshirt to wear.

“Whatever keeps you on your toes, Husband of mine.” You smirked standing on your tiptoes to kiss him on the lips.

“The things I do for love.” He muttered once the both of you had been fully clothed and summoned a portal to bring the both of you to the Compound.

#stephen strange fanfiction #stephen strange series #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange fluff #stephen strange angst #stephen strange smut

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dunefeather · 2 years

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Stubbornness Is A Mistake

Paul Atreides x F!Reader

Fluff, mention of sex.

Stubbornness certainly isn't the answer to everything you think sourly as you let the maid taking care of your body burning with fever. As not being part of any important family of Caladan, you get more days off duty than them. And out of boredom, you decided to train all by yourself. Cold is one of your worst enemies here. This and humidity combined on the shoreline, the powerful wind whipping your face ruthlessly. So you decided to get accustomed to it. To appear stronger than you are, what's better than playing a role ? So you spent three hours with your coat open, welcoming the low temperature with a blank face till feeling your throat itching.

And yes you are regretting it the day after barely able to open your eyes as you hear someone knocking at your door. The maid stands up and you go back to your lethargic state, turning your head as your mind already wanders somewhere else.

"Eh." Whispers a masculine voice next to you. "Eh. How are you doing ?"

Paul's voice echoes through your skull, travelling softly through every layers of your brain and spreading this delicate warmth through your muscles. You like having him by your side. His presence is always genuinely comforting to you. Today is no exception.

"Good morning my Lord." You croak pathetically with your eyes still closed and your dry lips cracking in some areas.

"It's the evening." He precises with a serious tone. "What have you done this time ?"

"Nothing." You lie as he rests his palm against your forehead. "Cold happens you know."

"Not so suddenly. Do you have medication to take ?"

The only answer he gets is a deep growl coming from the depths of your throat, and you turn your head to open an eye. Everything is blurry around you, even Paul himself. Darkness blankets most of the room in its nocturnal grasp. The only visible light is from behind the opaque veil falling over the side of your bed. You don't know who turned it on like this but you want to thank this person.

After a few seconds spent at trying to distinguish Paul's features, you smile at him. The poor young man is dishevelled, his dark hair still wet from either a shower or rain. Most certainly a shower as he wears the dark pants and white shirt he uses to sleep. He mirrors your action, the corners of his mouth turning up the slightest before he reaches your cheeks with his hands.

"Really, what have you done to fall this ill ?"

"It's cold outside. Was bored. Went for a walk."

Paul sits on your bed, turning his back to you as he rubs his thighs with his palms.

"My parents won't be there before a while. I can stay a bit if you want."

The way he turns around to watch you from above his shoulder is cute to you. Maybe it's that dark strand of hair starting to curl up around his temple. A grown Atreides heir, yet still having this little shy aspect. And his kind eyes reserved to rare occasions ?

"Stay a bit please." You croak as you attempt to let him some more room before realizing he only had to walk around to find the other side. "I'm cold."

Without a word he joins you, the sound of his bare feet against the ground guiding you to know where he is. Despite your comatose state your heart flutters as you feel him getting closer under this blanket. The last time he joined you was a few weeks ago, your embrace going from a comforting one after a tough day to one full of passion breaking a few traditional rules. It crossed your mind several times that you should do it again. Find an excuse to give it another try. After all... it felt good. You still remember your ragged breath as addiction bounded both of your bodies. You felt a connection with him.

"Let me hold you." He whispers softly as his arms find you. "Is this better ?"

"It is, thank you Paul." You answer as you snuggle immediately into him.

"You're welcome."

You like the fact that the young man is sneaking in your room tonight, unknowingly to his parents. You may appreciate and respect them, but you crossed a few clear limits. As two young adults discovering the pleasures of flesh, you did things impulsively. You should have thought before doing it but ot felt so natural. So normal. Why would you have to stop there because some rules got written in old books thousands of years before ? And there is no way no one ever broke them in the past.

"You're burning, my dove." He says quietly as you nuzzle the soft skin of his cheek.

He tightens his embrace and you do hope you don't look too ugly in your weakened state as he starts glaring at you. You like the delicacy of his fingers drawing your features as you shut your eyelids. It's soothing after hours spent on coughing.

"Maybe it's not the right moment to discuss about it," he begins, "but I do hope you don't feel obligated to have me by your side just because I asked you. And because of the last time."

"Shhh silly." You chuckle as you feel sleepiness invading your muscles. "Hope this wasn't the last time though."

Paul scoffs, a silent laugh shaking his chest as you feel his hand rubbing your back harder.

"This won't be the last time then. It was... it felt really good to have you like this." He murmurs as a promise. "I'm glad there's nothing awkward between us. I know we don't talk much. We're both busy all the time. And..."

He adds a few things you can't decipher. Shortly after your eyes, your ears disconnect from what is surrounding you. After a few coughs muffled in your hands you rub his chest with your cheek, trying to get the most comfortable position you can. And this time, you succeed.

#paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x you

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the-winter-spider · 3 years

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Element Part 3

Pairings: Bucky x reader

Warnings: talk of possible suicide, depression, angst

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: This parts shorter than i would like but i wanted to get it up, i already started part 4 before i finished this one. Once again i didnt proof read, or edit i will do that eventually lol

I also do a lot of perspective jumps, its just the way i like to write, sorry

Part one Part two

—

It was coming up 3 weeks since the incident and you still had not woken up yet, it was worrisome because of how long your heart was stopped for but there was brain activity and Bruce kept assuring everyone this was a good sign and you would wake up soon, when your body was ready of course. Bucky felt like a shell of who he was or could have been with you if he had done things differently, god he wished he had done things differently. You were the first and only person besides Steve that made him not only feel at home but helped him find a way to be at peace with his past and the things he had done and yet he let you slip right through his finger tips. If he tried harder and didn't just give up and wallow in his own heartache when you were pulling away from him, and tried to get through to you, to let you know you weren’t alone and he was still there for you, instead of laying in that bathtub cold and alone you could have been laying in his arms safe and warm.

One of Bucky's favourite things about you was you didn't mind silence, you weren't scared of it, some people couldn’t stand the silence that trudged behind him, it made them feel uncomfortable, at least that's what Sam told him when he was explaining to Bucky why some of the agents left when he entered the room it wasn't because of who he used to be and what he had done in the past it was because the silence followed him and it was deafening but you didn't leave when he entered a room you gravitated towards him.

You and Bucky were laying out on a blanket just under the plum tree, it was your spot. Ever since you gifted it to him you spent a lot of your free time underneath it with him, you both enjoyed being outside especially after years and years of being kept locked away, you took advantage of it, and Bucky didn’t care where you spent time together as long as you were there he was always down. It was dark outside, the stars were shining so bright, the night sky was so clear.

You were laying side by side, Bucky's left arm resting under his head, his right arm laying by his side, resting on top of yours, his thumb lightly rubbing circles on your hand, it was silent both of you just enjoying each other's presence.

“y’know when hydra first kidnapped me, after all those years inside, being tested and experimented on I never thought I'd ever see the sky again” You spoke freely, knowing Bucky was the only person who could relate to you.

“They never let you leave?”

You rolled over laying on your side, using your arm to prop your head up, Bucky moved, copying your position. “No, not till they were sure they succeeded in this” you lifted up your hand growing vines between your fingers. “Its weird to think we were there at the same time at some point”

Bucky sat up “I don't know why I never realised that before” he spoke looking stunned.

Pushing yourself up, this time you copied how Bucky was sitting, you laughed “Don't worry, me either not till Tony brought it up” you reached out grabbing his hand, lacing your fingers “I just wish, that they knew you were there to, its not fair that you had to go through all that, when they were right there, if I would have known, I -“ You didn't even realise you were starting to tear up till Bucky cut you off, you felt both his hands, cold and warm on either side of your face.

“woah hey, hey, y/n look at me”

Your eyes met his blue ones “Im sorry, i, i got carried away there” you laughed “Full moon” you gestured to the night sky.

He gave you a small smile “Everything happens for a reason”

You placed your hand on top of his metal one that was resting on your cheek still “You cannot use my own saying to try and consol me” you giggled

“I can't? i didn't know that was a rule”

“Well it is now”

Before you knew it you were an inch apart, you could feel his warm breath on your face, your eyes met his and his ocean blue eyes were looking between yours and your lips, you felt his lips lightly touch yours, barely a graze before someone's voice broke you both out of this trance you were in.

“We have a mission, Tony needs both of you on it, Suit up”” Steve's voice came booming from just beside the plum tree.

You shot up “Yes Cap” you walked past Steve, not bothering to look at either of the men, it was dark but you're sure your cheeks were glowing such a bright red that they could see it.

Bucky watched you walk away, he grunted before getting up, making his way to Steve who had this stupid grin on his face, shoving him as he walked by “You’re a punk”

Steve tossed his head back with laughter before throwing his arm over his best friend’s shoulder “Jerk”

—

He almost never left your room, Steve had to force Bucky to eat, sleep and shower, he would make jokes about how bad he stunk and that should have woke you up, normally Bucky would laugh at a joke like that but this was you and this wasn’t a normal circumstance. Steve finally made Bucky go shower for the 3rd time since the incident, that's what everyone had been referring to what happened that night, because no one truly knew what you were thinking if it was an accident or if you meant for that to happen, so they were not jumping to conclusions but Bucky felt it was obvious. Bucky didn't say a word when Steve suggested that he should go have a shower and change his clothes for the week, Bucky just kept his eyes on you before he nodded “C-can you stay? So someone is here if she wakes up?” Bucky’s voice was quiet and hoarse, Stunned that his oldest friend said something “Of course Buck” Steve made his way to where Bucky was sitting, taking over the spot Bucky hesitantly gave up.

3 minutes went by and Steve already felt bored, he loved you, you were one of his best friends, you were family but just sitting here listening to the rhythmic beeping, watching your chest rise than fall, he felt like he could be doing more, he had no idea how Bucky sat here day in and day out but deep down he knew it was because his best friend was in love. Steve decided to ask FRIDAY to call Bruce to y/n room.

Bruce came around the corner looking panicked his eyes darted towards you, still laying in bed, his eyes moved to meet Steves, who was standing in the corner of the room looking at your monitor. “Why can't we give her something to wake her up again?”

“Because Steve it could shock her whole system and with her abilities, who knows what kind of chaos that would cause we -“

Tony cut Bruce off entering your room “We also don't know what state she would be in, better to let her do it on her own, if she will”

Steve signed knowing the answers already, everybody already asked that question but it was starting to get hard seeing both his best friends like this, you looked peaceful laying there but at the same time Steve could see sadness written all over your face just like he could see pain all over Bucky’s. He knew Bucky blamed himself for what happened even though he had no control over it.

“Now next time you call me to this room, at least give FRIDAY some context, you almost gave me a heart attack” Bruce muttered walking out

Tony turned to look at Steve “You made the doc mad, you should go apologize Cap”

Steve sighed following Tony out of your room.

—

You opened your eyes, everything was blurry. You had to blink a few times but it was hard because your eyes felt so dry, it was almost painful. You were finally able to see clearly your head was throbbing from the fluorescent light in the room, it was clear as day that you were in the medical wing of the compound. You felt weird, almost disappointed, you weren't even sure what you were trying to accomplish in the tub but you knew it wasn’t this, you knew the possibilities of you ever waking up again was slim once everything went black and you were okay with that but the small chance that you did you were hoping you’d just knock yourself out and wake up in the tub. But laying here you knew they found you, you wondered how, did Friday alert them? Did you not lock your door and Tony or Steve brought you food like they had been for weeks and they found you. You wondered who all saw you like that, a complete mess. You felt numb, emotionally checked out, you sat there staring at your hands, that were crossed on your lap, when you saw someone walk by your room before they did a double take, they started shouting and waving at someone to come over. You wondered how long you had been out for.

The glass door slid open, you could see 6 pairs of shoes, your eyes still glued on your hands and none of them the combat boots you had hoped to see. You didn't really feel anything, someone started to wave a hand in front of your face, you could taste salt, were you crying? Or was it just the bitterness you felt? You dragged your gaze to meet Steve’s, he looked sad, his brow furrowed and his mouth moving but you didn’t process anything he said you were both overwhelmed and underwhelmed at the same time, you opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out, the walls felt like they were closing in.

You scanned the room seeing who else was here, Bruce was standing at the end of your bed typing away at some screen, Tony to the right sitting at the foot of your bed, his mouth was moving to. Your thoughts were so loud you couldn’t hear anything they were saying, but when you heard heavy footsteps and a frantic voice, your eyes looked up to meet up panicked blue ones standing in the doorway, Bucky.

TAGS: @majo240820 @vicmc624 @jessyballet @jhiddles03 @mggpleasedontlookhere @smallangryandpink @lilxberry @thisisnotangel @hereforalongtime512 @austynparksandpizza @ajeff855 @thefandomplace

Please let me know if i missed your tag or if you wanna be tagged!

#bucky barnes angst #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader

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no-droids · 4 years

Text

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.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #fanfic #reader insert #no-droids #rough day #smut

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babbling-idiot2 · 3 years

Text

Raoul Silva x reader

Requested: “Hello!! May I please request a Raoul Silva x female reader? Where the reader works with Bond, but for a time is kidnapped by Silva and then when she escapes and works with Bond again she is conflicted because she has feelings for Silva and then there is a showdown between her and Silva but she doesn’t shoot him when she has the chance?? And then they end up kissing. (Bond is not around) If that is waaaaaay too specific, I completely understand. I’m also a writer and really like this idea, I just don’t have any motivation right now. But If that’s too specific, then just something Silva x reader please?? If not, that’s cool! Thanks and have a blessed week!” -By Anon

Warning:

(Hello! Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy this. It’s actually kind of funny I had a fic for him in the drafts but never got around to posting it. But this was a better idea then mine so, I hope you enjoy!!)

*****

It wasn't suppose to be hard. Nor was it ever hard to do your job. Sure a few bruises and cuts here and there but it was your job and you enjoyed it. You have feared for your life before but at this point in time you weren't that scared anymore. Especially when it involved getting kidnapped. Now you had gotten kidnapped before. But it was also so easy and almost boring. Like they didn't try anymore. Well that was until you got kidnapped by a man named Raoul Silva. You knew him from a brief glimpse of a case file yet you didn't know enough to be interested. Only in the fact he is a ex MI6 agent. That's the only thing that caught you attention.

In training you are taught many things. One being to never get involved with the target. Ever. If you did you would also be terminated. So, you never ever were involved with anyone. Even outside of your job. But luck would have it, as you've found yourself in quite a pickle. Did you get kidnapped? Yes. Was it on purpose? Well of course not. Did you know who kidnapped you? No! But it was quite the shocker to find out the ex MI6 agent, Raoul Silva had been the one behind it. When you were finally sat down. You sat in an empty room. Filled with high tech computer equipment and the sound of people moving around behind you. Mostly out of boredom and the fact that they themselves are bored with this charade. Then as you were also getting bored, you hear an elevator. You looked forward and could clearly see an elevator opening at the end of the room. Silva steps out and begins walking over to you. "Miss Williams. It is truly a pleasure to finally meet you. I must say that I have read much about you." He’s close enough now that your finally able to see him up close. You shouldn’t be thinking this about your kidnapper but he was very much more attractive then his picture "Good things I hope." "Oh nothing less of good I can assure you. Though I am disappointed they left out so much." You continue to look at him, trying to figure out where he was going with this, already having a good idea "Well that's the point isn't it? To keep as much personal information out of the files?" He tilts his head and nods slightly "Yes. I suppose that's correct but I must admit, I would like to know more about you before I get to the real reason why I brought you here. If you don't mind?" You raise and eyebrow curiously as you continue to follow him with your eyes. You didn't answer and he seemed to just take that as a yes. He was walking around the area, not once making his way towards a chair. He kept walking, pacing in the same line as he questioned you on your past. "From what I know, you were a top student in school. A plusses and never once a B. You were dedicated to learning everything. You even graduated 2 years earlier than your classmates. Did you enjoy it? High-school, I mean." You shrugged your shoulders "Its hard to remember everything, since it was a little while ago. I do remember enjoying it though. Many good memories." He hums out in either approval or refusal. Which turns out to be refusal. "I do not believe that. You see your file here says, 'School for miss Williams was, in her words: Troubling, I was bullied a lot and had no friends. My studies were the only thing I focused on. I was the laughing stock of my high school career." You didn't say a word, you had no idea that he was really seeing your file right in front of him. "Now Miss Williams, you were bullied, treated horribly and now you are an MI6 agent. Says you've never had any infatuation for anyone in your life. Is that true?" You close your eyes and shake your head "No. I've never been in a relationship nor do I ever want one." He chuckles and looks at you, straight in the eyes "Miss Williams you do know I have your file here and every word you've said is a lie. I do not think that is a good idea. Tell the truth." He says now looking at the file again. This time you roll your eyes and adjust yourself in the seat "I was in one relationship in college. We only dated a week." "Why?" "Because he was a creep. And an asshole." "See now that is what a want to hear. The truth!" You roll your eyes again and become even more annoyed.

You had no idea how long it had been but what was for sure was that it was long enough. You could hear the sounds of gun fire coming from outside of the building you were in. You thought for a moment that you were hearing things but when you heard the door being slammed open and the sound of an MI6 agent calling your name, relief washed over you. You were soon taken onto one the helicopters and was taken back to HQ. There you were met by a medical team and M. She was glad to see you walking and not in a body bag. She nodded your way before telling the medical team to take care of your. Also ordering you to go with them, knowing how much you hated any kind of medical attention. But you agreed and went along anyway.

Not even a day later you were reunited back with bond and even he was happy to see you again. But sadly even though reuniting gave you a slight feeling of happiness, you were conflicted. For a time you didn’t know what by. Was it work? Did you receive bad news? Did you say something and regret it? You had no idea, until it hit you one day like a truck. You thought back to when you got kidnapped by Raoul Silva. You couldn’t get him out of your mind. It was like he was an infection in your brain and you couldn’t get rid of it. Bond could tell something was wrong with you. Just by looking at you for an extended period of time, he could tell. But he had no idea what it was or better yet, who it was.

You were ordered to go after him. Simple task, easy enough right? Well not exactly. You were hot on his trail, right behind him and yet he was just that much faster then you. Suddenly out of know where he turned this corner and right before this very large door could close you just made it through when it closed with a loud thud. Silva was at a dead end and had no where to go besides the way you came. When he turned around you already had a gun pointed in his direction. Completely prepared to shoot him if he made one wrong move. He knew that you would so, he would have to choose his next words and moves very carefully. “Miss Williams, I am very amazed at how you caught up so quick. I was not prepared for this encounter today.” “Yes well, you’ve screwed up your chances at getting out. I suggest you make yourself comfortable.” You say gesturing to the ground. He knew you wanted him to sit down on the ground but he couldn’t let that happen. “Miss Williams, Or better yet, Y/n? We both know that you won’t shoot me.” He says stepping closer. Though the fact that he knew your name was quite jarring, it didn’t impair your judgement. It was a sign that he was trying to get close. And you most definitely couldn’t let that happen. You pulled the hammer of your gun back and stepped a bit closer, keeping eye contact as to try to intimidate him. “You really think I’m afraid of what M will do if I shoot someone like you? I could care less. You’re actually lucky your up and walking now.” You never once let your confident and intimidating persona drop, not around him and at a time like this, it would be game over for you. But Silva was smart and he could see through your demeanor. “You are smart Miss Y/n. And you hide your private life so well. So hidden like a hermit in the sand. Yet I see right through the cracks. You have feelings for me.” You clench your jaw and shake your head “In your dreams Silva. I could never like someone like you.” “In my dreams? No, no, no y/n. In your dreams. You’ve thought about me since the day you got kidnapped by my men. Ever since you saw me and now, you cant get me out of your head. You can’t hide your feelings for me y/n.” He says now even more closer then he was before. You couldn’t back up anymore, for the door was closed and there was no escape from this. Your finger tightened and he saw this. He reached his hand out. Hoping that you wouldn't pull the trigger. Your brain told you to pull the trigger and end all of this now. But the more irrational part of you held you back. When he got close enough he wrapped his fingers steadily around the barrel of the pistol. He directed it out of the line of his face and slowly stepped into your personal space. He smiled at you and tilted his head at you. “There we are. I knew you couldn’t shoot me.” “It’s the worse decision I’ve ever made. I’m just as good as dead as your are now.” he starts to shake his head at you “No! No, no, no, no my dear! No one will know about this. Not even Bond. You just have to keep this a secret. You’re good at that, right?” You clench your jaw at hearing that. Keeping a secret from the MI6 was like trying to keep candy from a toddler. But nevertheless you nod your head and look to the side. You weren’t looking away for long until you felt a hand on your chin pulling you back. You looked back at Silva and saw a look in his eyes. You weren't sure what it was but what he did next gave you a good idea. He leaned forward and kissed you. It wasn’t for long but it definitely took the breath out of you. When he pulled away, on instinct you chased him slightly. When you realized what you did you looked away embarrassingly. Hoping he didn’t notice. He did, and smiled from ear to ear. Kissing your forehead and the side of your face. He leaned down where his mouth was near your ear before whispering “You should never feel embarrassed around me dear. I want to see you for you, not what they made of you.” You swallowed your embarrassment and looked up at him before leaning in slowly to kiss him back. It was quick, nervous and very sloppy. You were sure you kissed the side of his mouth. He smiled nonetheless and looked down at his wrist. Sighing out in annoyance he looks back to you. “I’m very sorry my dear, but I must end this meeting. I am suppose to meet my men in 5 minutes or our plan is ruined. Till next time my dear.” As he was walking away you stared confusingly at him. “Wait so this was part of the plan wasn’t it?” He turned back as he was about to pull a hatch open that was in the ground. He smiled at you cheekily. “My dear, I have a plan for everything.” He says as he closes the hatch behind him. You stared wide eyed at the hatch before you.

“Well then, where did he go Williams?” You sighed out in annoyance “Like I told you before. I went down the hatch as I saw him do, when I got to the bottom he wasn’t there. He was gone. I ran to the end and searched. He was gone.” M stared at you, disappointment lacing her features as she looked at you. You could practically feel it by now. She shook her head and waved you off not bothering to say another word to you. You rolled your eyes and walked out. Fully intending to just go home.

When you got there you hung your coat up and slipped your shoes off at the door, barley noticing the other pair of shoes right there next to yours. You looked up and sure enough you could see the back of someone's head sitting on your couch. You didn’t have your gun, and hand to hand combat was the only thing you had up your sleeves at the moment. When you came around the couch all thoughts of intruder and fighting left your mind. Silva was sitting there flipping through one of your magazines you had sitting on your table. “You know, you should invest in better security and better reading material.” He says still eyeing the magazine. “And you know I have a full bookcase right there? Also I like to be notified when I have company before they come over. I hate surprises.” He smiles and lays the magazine down, looking up to you with the same smile on his face. “But you like me, so it’s a welcomed one.” You shake your head smiling before walking over to the kitchen. You looked back and he was still seated there, looking out into space of your living room. You had no idea how you were going to deal with him. You had no idea how long this would go on for, but only time could tell now.

*****

(Hello so, I hope you liked this! If you did, any kind of feedback is amazing and highly appreciated! I hope you enjoyed and I hope you have an amazing day/night and stay safe out there in the world!)

#raoul silva x reader #raoul silva headcanons #raoul silva imagines #raoul silva #skyfall #javier bardem

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lovely-ateez · 3 years

Text

Just What The Doctor Ordered~

ꕥPosted: 3/14/21

ꕥGenre: Fluff, Smut

ꕥPairing: FemReader! x Wooyoung

ꕥWord Count: ~2.0k

ꕥWarnings: Language, Protected sex (Reader’s on the pill), Public sex (sort of), Praising, Wooyoung has a thing for being called doctor, Dirty talk

ꕥA/N: Please respect your healthcare workers—Doctor Wooyoung hella hot tho 🥵🤚

I pressed a hand to my forehead, trying to will my migraine away.

“You know you should probably go see a doctor.” My best friend and coworker, Hongjoong, spoke as he stirred his morning coffee.

“It’s fine. I get them all the time.”

“Yeah and that’s the problem. You shouldn’t.”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, “Honestly, I’ve trying to avoid going to the doctor but I think you have a point. I can barely focus on anything anymore.”

“Good. Schedule an appointment as soon as you get the chance. You don’t want to wait any longer.” He walked closer to me and ran a hand along my back, “And let me know how it goes, alright? I worry about you sometimes.”

I let out a small laugh, “Thanks, Joongie. I will.”

“Miss y/n.”

I raised my head to meet a young woman in light blue scrubs. She smiled at me, but I could see the tiredness in her eyes. I certainly understood, I’d had many long, long days at work myself.

I hope your day gets better, miss.

“Right this way, please.”

I stood, following her as she lead me into a room and instructed me to sit in one of the chairs.

“The doctor you normally see has been quite busy today, so we’ll have one of our newer doctors see you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah that’s fine.” I pressed a hand to my forehead.

“So could you give me run down of what’s been going on?” She clicked a pen, grabbing a scrap of paper from her pocket.

“Sure, basically I’ve just been having really bad migraines.”

“How severe have they been?”

“I mean they’ve been bad enough that I’ve had trouble concentrating.”

“Anything else troubling you?”

“Nope that’s it.”

She scribbled some notes on a sheet of paper and smiled at me.

“Alright, the doctor will be with you soon.” Were her last words as she exited the room with a sigh.

Knowing it’d likely take awhile, I unlocked my phone to mindlessly scroll through social media, eventually getting bored and playing a game instead.

The door opened and I jumped in my seat, placing my phone aside. The young man that walked into the room smiled, running a hair through his parted black hair.

“Hello, I’m Wooyoung. It’s nice to meet you.”

As ridiculous as it sounded, my breath seemed to leave me all at once. His sunkissed skin was seemingly flawless, the closed-mouth smile that he flashed showing slight dimples on his cheeks, the lab coat and stethoscope around his neck left me to admire his appearance. He was certainly the most fit and attractive doctor, let alone man I’d ever seen.

“Oh you, too.”

He reached out to shake my hand and as we touched I felt sparks shoot through me. His hands were slightly rough but still soft. He released my hand with a kind smile.

“So do you mind telling me what’s going on?” He moved a stool that was in the corner of the room closer to me, sitting on it and slightly spreading his legs, his hands on his knees. I felt my head fogging as I fought myself to not stare at him.

“Well I’ve been having really bad migraines recently. I don’t really know what’s causing them.”

“How long have you been having them?”

“For a few months actually, but they’ve only become really bad within the last couple weeks.”

Wooyoung nodded, “Could they be stress induced, by any chance?”

“I mean...I don’t think so? My job is usually stressful but I haven’t been more stressed than normal.”

“Hmm okay. Have you been experiencing any other symptoms? Nausea, vomiting, sensitivity to light?”

“No, no other symptoms.”

“Could you be pregnant? That can often-”

I laughed, “No, I haven’t had a boyfriend in a quite a while so that’s not it. I’ve been busy with work.”

I could’ve sworn I saw a slight smirk on his face, but it was gone before I could fully register it.

“I certainly understand that. I was able to get through medical school faster than most but I was studying all the time so I’ve never really had time for a girlfriend.”

I nodded, not exactly knowing what to say as I felt happiness bubble up in my stomach knowing that he was single.

“So how often do you normally get them?”

I cocked my head and raised a brow, “Get what?”

He let out a chuckle that released butterflies in my stomach, “I mean your migraines. How often do you get them?”

“Oh.” I felt my cheeks turn pink, “Maybe four times a week.”

“Cute.” Wooyoung muttered under his breath. I was relatively confident he didn’t intend for me to hear it and I blushed even more.

“Well the nurse told me she forgot to take your vitals so...do you mind?”

“Not at all!” I internally slapped myself for sounding far too enthusiastic, but Wooyoung didn’t seem to care, giving a small smile.

“Could you take off your jacket for me, please?”

“Of course.” I said, ridding myself of the thick coat I was wearing, placing it on a nearby chair. He walked towards me—the smell of his cologne intoxicating—and put the eartips of the stethoscope in his ears.

Wooyoung placed the diaphragm of the stethoscope to my back, “Breathe in and out normally for me, please.”

I did as I was told, blocking my mind from the devilishly handsome man right next to me.

After a moment he removed the tool from my back. “I’m going to place the stethoscope on your chest now, okay?”

Wooyoung eyed my sweater which had slightly thicker material in the front, “Is it alright if I put the stethoscope down your shirt? It’ll be hard to hear your heart through your sweater.”

“Oh—yeah that’s okay!” I cleared my throat, “I mean like yeah it’s fine.”

Way to be smooth.

Wooyoung chucked as he reached down the collar of my shirt with the tool, its cold making me shiver. He apologized for the temperature, assuring me it wouldn’t take but a minute.

“That’s odd,” He stated, an eyebrow raised, “Your heart shouldn’t be beating that fast. Do you know why that might be?”

His dark eyes looked into my own and I swallowed. “I...I just...”

“Yes?”

I looked at the floor, unable to say it while looking in his eyes, “It’s you.”

“Me? How’s that?” I saw from the corner of my eye a slight smirk growing on his face.

I looked into his dark eyes, “My heart is racing because you’re so close to me.”

“Tell me, then. Would it beat faster if I got even closer?”

Stethoscope still on my chest, he leaned down, his lips almost touching my own.

The man let out a deep laugh, much deeper than his speaking voice, “I was correct.”

I was barely able to speak when my eyes drifted to his lips, “It’ll beat even faster if you kiss me.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“It is.”

Wooyoung grabbed my cheek with his free hand and pulled me closer, pressing his lips to mine. He didn’t have to tell me that my heart was racing. I could feel it. I could feel my heart rate increasing the longer his lips touched mine. My hands wrapped around his neck, hands running through his thick hair and pulling it slightly. He bit my bottom lip in response and I whimpered into the kiss, pulling him even closer.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, girl.”

I pulled his hair a bit harder and he groaned against my lips. As if he just remembered the stethoscope, he broke the kiss to pull it away from my chest, removing it from his ears and tossing it on the nearby table.

I giggled and he smiled at me, placing his hands on either side of the chair I was sitting in. Leaning in closer he teased my lips with his, giving me a slight peck before kissing down my jaw to my neck. I reached for his coat and hurriedly removed it from his shoulders, wanting nothing more than to get him undressed.

Gasping for air I grabbed at his hair once more, desperately needing to hear him groan again and he didn’t disappoint. His hands danced to my sweater, slightly lifting it.

“I hate to say it, because I’m really enjoying this, but you are on the clock.”

“Fuck it.” he growled, “I don’t have any patients scheduled today and I work harder than anyone here. I want this if you do.”

“I really do. Fuck me, Wooyoung.”

Without hesitation he pulled my sweater and bra over my head, leaving kisses all over my chest.

“Help me take off your pants, bunny.”

I whimpered, “Yes doctor.”

“Shit that’s hot.” He leaned in close to my ear, “Say it again. Doctor’s orders.”

“Whatever you say, doctor.” I pulled my pants down and threw them across the room.

Wooyoung’s hands teasingly ran up and down my thighs, making me shiver.

“You’re insanely gorgeous.” He growled into my ear.

I couldn’t come up with a solid response, my desire speaking for me, “It’s your turn, doctor. Off with the shirt.”

He made a dramatic flair of pulling his shirt slowly over his head, my eyes growing hazy while looking at his perfectly defined abs.

“Fuck.”

A cocky look formed on his face as he watched my eyes scan over him, soon after lifting me from the chair to the exam table.

He ran a digit along my clothed clit, prompting my back to arch off the table. I grabbed his arms and pulled him towards me, hips bucking into his, the friction setting my body on fire.

He groaned, head falling back as his body gave into his pleasure. Before long he was pulling down my soaked panties and leveling his face with my core.

“Don’t.” I said through heavy breaths, earning a concerned look from Wooyoung, “I want you in me now.”

His eyes widened, “Shit I don’t have a condom.”

I pulled him closer to me, “I’ve been on the pill for several months don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?” The genuine concern in his eyes currently outweighing the lust I could see behind them.

“I promise.”

The lust returned to his eyes and I couldn’t help but feel small under his gaze. The rest of his clothes were discarded in a hurry, his member then lining up with my core.

“Let me know if you’re uncomfortable or want me to stop, okay?”

His consideration made me smile, knowing full damn well I wouldn’t want him to stop. “I will. You too.”

Wooyoung let out a short chuckle and entered me slowly. I felt my eyes close as I focused on the feeling of him inside me, feeling out of breath already. I moaned as he pulled out slightly and rammed his hips back into mine.

“You like this?” He growled, “Knowing that anyone could catch us?”

I nodded, letting out quiet whimpers as I gasped for air. His speed was quick and hard, hitting every spot inside me my fingers could never reach.

“What a dirty girl you are.”

My walls clenched around him as tears welled in my eyes from the stimulation, my moans gradually getting louder without my control.

He leaned closer to me, “Quiet, sweetheart. Can’t let everyone here know what we’re up to, can we?”

I whimpered as he picked up speed and I forced my eyes open, needing nothing more than to see him. His pupils were dilated, his face flushed, and his hair was sporadically sticking to his forehead. He looked godly.

“You look so beautiful under me, taking me so well,” He said through half-lidded eyes, “How are you feeling, love?”

I whined at the pet name and clenched around him. He groaned and I brought myself to speak, “I feel f-full, doctor.”

Wooyoung nuzzed my neck, placing a few kisses upon my skin, and I felt my high approaching.

“Touch me, please.” I pleaded.

He complied, teasingly running his fingers along my clit and I felt sparks of pleasure shoot through me.

“Are you gonna cum, baby girl? Be my good girl and cum for me.”

I bit my lip to keep from moaning loudly as I came, feeling Wooyoung release at the same time. He stilled, watching me catch my breath as he did the same.

“Pretty sure I just broke several medical moral codes but damn I don’t regret a minute of that.”

I hid my face in his chest, face heating up, “Me either.”

He pulled out of me and I pouted at the loss of feeling him.

“We just had sex and you’re still needy?”

“Listen, you just feel good inside of me.”

He leaned over me a gave me a long, sweet kiss, “You feel pretty good around me, yourself.”

Wooyoung pulled back and reached for his boxers, putting them on before grabbing some paper towels and cleaning me up. “Get dressed, doll.”

I nodded and slowly slipped my clothes on, legs feeling wobbly. He noticed and smiled at me, fully dressed now.

“Well,” He started, “I think we should exchange numbers in case you experience more migraines. We’ll have to monitor that, of course.” His eyes twinkled.

“Ah yes, of course.” I giggled, handing over my phone.

I watched his fingers glide over the keyboard, my eyes once more trailing down his chest, unable to forget how good he looked shirtless.

Without looking up he spoke, his voice lighthearted, “I can see you, you know.”

“No you can’t.” I teased.

He laughed and handed over his phone for me to do the same. “I can write you a prescription if you feel like that’s something you need. Have you tried over the counter medicine?”

I chuckled and he gave me a questioning look. “It’s just that the conversation took a different direction than I was expecting. But no, I haven’t.”

Wooyoung nodded, “I would recommend that you start with Ibuprofen and if that doesn’t work, let me know and we can prescribe you a stronger medicine, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

A silence fell over us. Noticing my nervousness, Wooyoung pulled me into his arms, placing a kiss on my lips, “I need to go, but I’ll call you, okay?”

I gave a shy nod and bit my lip.

“Do you like coffee by any chance?” He questioned as he ran a hand through my hair. I welcomed his touch, leaning closer to him.

“Love it, why?”

“I say we meet up at a coffee shop soon. I’ve got a particular one in mind and I think you’ll really like it.”

I smiled, beyond happy to know he wanted to see me again, “Works for me.”

“So it went pretty well, I think.”

“Good, have you been feeling better?” Hongjoong asked later in the week.

“Much.” I bit my lip, looking down, “I’ve got a date later today.”

“What? With who?” Hongjoong asked with a smile, genuinely happy for me.

“Um...the doctor I saw earlier this week.” I scratched the back of my head.

“Oh my god you do not.”

“I do. I really like him.” I confessed, “We’ve been texting a lot.”

“Damn.” He shook his head, “That’s definitely a surprise but I’m happy for you girl. You know, why don’t you head out early? Our shifts are almost over anyways and I can finish up anything you’ve still got to do.”

“No I can’t ask you to do that!”

“I insist. Go ahead.” Hongjoong all but pushed me out of the office, sending me on my way and wishing me luck.

I waved back at him, thanking him again before leaving the building. I hopped in my car and drove off, feeling happiness bubble in my chest.

I took a step into the cute coffee shop, looking around at the full tables before locking eyes with Wooyoung. His eyes sparkled with the same playful look as I remembered. I walked over to where he was sitting and took the chair across from him.

“Hey,” He smiled wide.

“Hey yourself.”

“Are you gonna order anything?”

“Maybe in a bit. I wanna spend time with the handsome man in front of me first.”

A slight red dusted his ears as he tried to laugh away his shyness. “How’ve your migraines been?”

“Honestly, I haven’t had any since I saw you last.”

He cocked his head. “Wonder what could’ve fixed that?”

I bit my lip, meeting his eyes, “I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

“Incredible. This is a medical breakthrough. I can just imagine the medical articles.” Wooyoung raised a hand, moving it in the air as he spoke, “Sex cures chronic migraines, experiments suggest.”

I laughed, playfully hitting him on the shoulder.

“What? Am I wrong?” He said with a mischievous smile.

I quirked a brow, “I think we should probably conduct more experiments though, right? In the name of science.”

He pressed his lips together in a tight smile. “You make a compelling argument. I think I have to agree. My place after this?”

“Absolutely.”

Final Note: Listen I know Wooyoung probably should have actually prescribed y/n something for her migraines but it’s to further the plot okay please understand—

#atzinc #ateez #kpop #imagines #ateez au #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez imagines #fluff #kpop fluff #doctor au #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung au #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung smut

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marvelhero-fics · 3 years

Text

Snowman

Series - Chapter Two

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’re a HYDRA assassin that’s worked closely with the Winter Soldier, to each of your dismay you’re reunited with Bucky after the blip.

A/N: Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist, no spoilers in this chapter!

Word Count: 1,750

Snowman Masterlist || Full Masterlist

New York

2023

“Did you see her much after that mission?” Dr Raynor asked Bucky. She seemed interested in (Y/N).

“Yea. I saw her in passing a few times. She spent a lot of time at the base I was at. Sometimes I’d be out of cryo for weeks on a mission. That’s when I saw her the most.”

“What did you do together?”

“Played card games, trained together, built weapons, I taught her how to snipe. Normal shit, I guess.” It felt strange thinking about it all. It felt like a different lifetime to him.

“I guess that is somewhat normal for trained assassins. Did you tell her anything about yourself? After she explained her story, did you reciprocate that?” His therapist questioned.

“I couldn’t. I didn’t really remember that much about myself. Everything I knew was wiped, I was pretty much a blank slate. I couldn’t even tell her my name because I didn’t know it.” Bucky shrugged.

“What did she call you then?”

“She gave me a nickname. Snegovik. It means snowman in Russian. She thought it was hilarious, because I was the Winter Soldier. If anyone else called me snowman I would’ve snapped their necks, but when she did it-'' Bucky paused to think, “It felt nice.”

Moscow

2012

“What’re you doing, snegovik? (snowman)” You placed yourself down at the table opposite Bucky. He looked up at you, his pale blue eyes gazing into yours. You noticed Bucky started looking differently at you as you spent more time together. Instead of a look of hostility or annoyance as he gave to everyone else, it was a gentle look. A look you would give birds dancing in a fountain on a warm day, or a look you would give the sun as it rose so smoothly over the snowy mountains.

“Reading.” He shut the file laid out in front of him. The maroon file had a black HYDRA symbol resting in the middle. It was his next target.

“I haven’t had a case in weeks. I’m bored out of my mind. Do you wanna go to the firing range with me?” You queried. The HYDRA base you were currently stuck at had one of the largest firing ranges down in the basement, with a very fun collection of weaponry.

“I know what we can do. Let’s go snezhinka. (snowflake)” Bucky pushed up against the table to stand, he grabbed his file and walked off. You quickly followed behind.

The two of you ended up in a large room full of dark grey lockers. It was an empty, dusty smelling room. Not many agents or assassins resided at this base so it was mostly desolate.

Bucky pulled a few lockers open, his metal fingers clanking against the steel lockers. He tossed a large coat towards you. It was black with a soft fur lining the hood.

“Put that on.” He demanded.

“Are we going outside?” You asked, tossing the coat over your shoulders and zipping up the front.

“Mhm.” Bucky pulled his sniper rifle out of a locker. It was already put together. He grabbed a small, red box of ammunition and an extra scope. He walked off again, he tended to do that.

You waltzed off behind him.

“Don’t you need a coat too?”

“No. I’m the snowman, remember?” He smirked back at you. Bucky didn’t smile very often, you always tried to savour the moments that he did.

The two of you exited the compound through a side door, it simply led out into the snowy forest. He began walking out into the snow, along a path he’d obviously walked plenty of times before. The large pines that inhabited the forest were covered in a layer of thick snow. The reminisce of grass and flowers barely poked through the large sheet of white on the ground.

Bucky’s path guided to a small, wooden sniper nest. It was an old sniper range that used to be for protecting the base. As more enhanced people began showing up, HYDRA moved to using giant concrete bunkers instead.

Bucky threw down a thin, dark green blanket and lay down on his stomach. He quickly set up his sniper rifle and adjusted the scope.

“Lie down.” He asserted. You complied, lying down on your stomach next to him. There was nearly no room between your bodies, the sniper nest seemed like it was only made for one. His body radiated heat like a fire. So much for snowman, you thought. Bucky lined up the spare scope and passed it over to you.

“Look through that.”

You stared through the small scope, it showed a few trees over two kilometres away. “What am I looking for?” You asked, quietly.

Bucky didn’t reply. The sound of the silenced sniper announced, and a single pinecone burst into pieces. You turned from the scope to look at the man next to you. “That was 2,000 meters away, holy shit.”

“2,248 meters.” He added, lifting the sniper to sit in front of you. “Your turn.”

“I told you, snegovik, I can’t snipe. I’ve never been good at it.”

“I’ll teach you.” He took the spare scope from your hand. “Get nice and close to the gun, your shoulder should be up against this part,” he motioned to the back end of the rifle, you shuffled so you were in place, “look through the scope,” you did as he instructed, “and here,” his hand grabbed your wrist, the cool metal of his fingers burnt against your hand. You didn’t know much about how his metal arm worked, but he seemed to have amazing control over it. He was so gentle as directed your hand to a dial near the scope, “use this to adjust your sight. Take it to 500 metres out, we’ll start off easy.”

You adjusted the scope. 500m. You agilely moved to line up with a large pine cone resting on one of the giant pine trees.

“Deep breath.” Bucky said lightly, “fire.”

Your finger snapped down the trigger and the bullet flew. Bucky watched through his own scope as the bullet hit its target.

“I did it!” You announced,

“You’re not as bad as you thought.” He smiled, “go further out and try again.”

You and Bucky sat in that tiny sniper nest shooting pinecones for hours.

Bucky left early that morning for his mission, leaving you at the base by yourself for a few days. You spent most of those days shooting and you spent your nights combat training. Unsurprisingly, you’d developed some severe insomnia. In your line of work it wasn’t uncommon. Kraken didn’t want you to take any sort of sleeping medication that the HYDRA doctors suggested because he was afraid it would affect your work ethic. He wanted you staying sharp. Arguably, running off no sleep didn’t have you very sharp.

It was another regular night. 2, maybe 3 in the morning, you were in the gym, giving everything you had to a black punching bag. Your bandaged knuckles were feeling the force with every blow. You tiring body felt shaken under the strenuous training you were putting yourself through.

“It’s a bit late for this, snezhikna.” A deep voice announced from the entrance of the gym. You turned to see a muscular figure. He was covered in black clothing, only revealing his face and his large metallic arm. Not many people were able to sneak up on you, except Bucky, he always could.

“How was the mission?” You returned to your punching bag.

“The target was eliminated.” You heard the faint sound of his boots approaching. By the time you spun around he was directly behind you. “Let’s spar. It doesn’t look like that bag’s putting up much of a fight.”

He moved towards the thin gym mats. You watched as he adjusted his arm, each metal part whirring into place. You unravelled your knuckles, standing on the mat opposite him. The two of you stared in silence for a moment, the tension between you hung like a heavy, black smoke. A vicious grin flicked along your mouth and you began.

Punches were met with dodges, kicks were defended with blocks. You ducked, grabbed his metal wrist and pinned it behind him. He adjusted and threw your body over the top of him. You landed hard on the ground. He smiled. You whipped around and caused his legs to fall out from beneath him. He fell, and you quickly moved to throw your legs around his neck. He lay on the ground in a choke hold between your legs. You didn’t apply too much pressure, just enough to stop him from moving.

“Nice job.” He grunted. Just as you thought he would tap out, he grabbed either side of your waist and twisted you so he was able to free himself from your legs. You scrambled to get off your back but Bucky was too quick. His muscular legs had your ankles pinned down and his metal arm had both of your wrists over your head. It clicked into place and held you pinned to the ground.

You’d never felt weak in your life, you were skilled, strong, smart. But Bucky sitting above you like this made you feel so small.

“How can I tap out if you’re holding my arms?” You joked.

Without a moment's warning Bucky lowered his head and pressed his lips against yours. Everything about Bucky was harsh, rough, and cold. But his kiss, it was gentle and sweet.

You kissed back without hesitation, his metal arm relaxed and your hands tangled into his messy hair. He unpinned your legs and you instinctively wrapped your thighs around his waist. His soft, real hand caressed your waist, holding you as if you were fragile china.

He didn’t touch you with his metal hand. He used it to hold up his weight. He never barely ever touched you with that hand. He never knew how strong it really was and he didn’t want to accidentally hurt you. Ever since you’d told him his hand was cold, he’d been much more cautious with it. You were the warmth in his life. He didn’t want to mess that up.

“Snegovik, we can’t do this here.” You smiled up at him, your hands held gently against his cheeks, his stubble tickling your palms.

“Let’s go then, my snezhinka.” He carefully picked you up and led you out of the gym.

Taglist: @selfsun @quxxnxfhxll @stranger-names @bb-tings @is-it-really-a-secret

#bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky fic #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes fic #Bucky imagine #Bucky oneshot #Bucky series #Bucky Barnes series #bucky #Bucky barnes #the avengers #tfatws #the winter solider #the winter solider x reader #the winter solider fanfic

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ibijau · 3 years

Text

How to Woo a Lan pt1 / On AO3

Jin Ling is determined to court Lan Sizhui, but can't seem to say two words to him without insulting him. He decides that what he needs is the help of someone who has already successfully seduced a Lan, and he knows something about Nie Huaisang that others don't.

It had been, to put it mildly, a bit of a wild year. Jin Ling had gone from being treated as a child by everyone who met him and being barely mature enough to be trusted alone on a Night Hunt, to having to behave like a full grown adult because he suddenly was the leader of a cut-throat sect that was half falling apart after the early death of its corrupt former leader.

Fifteen was never an easy age, but Jin Ling was pretty sure he had it a little rougher than most people.

Of course, it could have been worse. For one thing, he could have been dead. In fact, he had come pretty close to it a few times, most memorably when he was kidnapped and trapped in the Burial Mounds with other juniors, and when his beloved uncle Jin Guangyao had used him as a hostage and threatened to cut his throat open with a guqin string if he wasn’t allowed to run away after it was revealed he had murdered a number of people, like Jin Ling’s grandfather, and indirectly caused the death of others, like Jin Ling’s father. And then after that there had been a handful of other attempts on Jin Ling’s life once he had become sect leader, because he had older relatives who thought they’d be better at the job, or who other people thought would be easier to corrupt… but really, those attempts just hadn’t been very impressive.

Jin Ling had been raised by Jin Guangyao, so he knew a thing or two about avoiding poison. And he’d been raised by Jiang Cheng as well, so even at his age, there weren’t that many adults who could pose a threat to his life, should they directly attack him.

All in all, the murder attempts hadn’t been so bad. The paperwork and meetings, on the other hand, were the worst thing ever. There were so, so many letters to read, and to analyse, and to answer. And then there were Night Hunt reports. Tracking the progress of junior disciples. Bills. An astonishing number of bills, oftentime for things Jin Ling didn’t even understand, so he had to ask during meetings what the sect was spending money on this time. There was a forty percent chance that it was something frivolous he could cut off, and a fifty percent chance that it was just barely concealed corruption, but since there was the ten percent possibility of that bill being something actually useful, Jin Ling still had to investigate every single one, just in case.

With all this going on, Jin Ling was lucky when he could find an hour here and there to meditate, or work on his cultivation, or train Fairy. He had considered skipping sleep from time to time, but Jiang Cheng had heard about it, somehow, and rushed to Jinlin Tai to scream at him about being irresponsible with his health, as if he were any better. Everyone knew Sandu Shengshou ran on two hours of sleep, medical pills, and rage… but apparently Jin Ling wasn’t alone to do the same. Unfair.

Equally unfair was the fact that in the six months between Jin Guangyao’s death and Jin Ling’s fifteenth’s birthday, he had only gone on two night hunts.

The first was… not so bad. Jin Ling had been forced to have some other Jin disciples come along, which was boring, but then they’d all met up with some Lan and with Ouyang Zizhen, which had been pretty nice. Not quite as nice as it could have been if a certain person had been there, but not quite bad either, because Jin Ling had been able to chat with Ouyang Zizhen who was smarter than he looked, and to argue with Lan Jingyi who was fun to have a shouting match with.

And then, there had been that second Night Hunt. Jin Ling, still dealing with the aftermath of a slightly more efficient assassination attempt after which part of Jinlin Tai had really thought him dead for a good shichen and a half, had stumbled upon a man who had come to beg for the help of his sect and decided he’d help with that. He needed a break from his murderous cousins anyway.

So instead, he called the worst asshole he knew to help him deal with this, for fun.

And Lan Jingyi, for some reason known only to him, decided to let Wei Wuxian come as well.

That was the first problem, Jin Ling later decided. If Wei Wuxian hadn’t been there, things would have gone better. But he just didn’t really know where he stood with the man who had, technically, caused both of his parents to die and whom Jin Ling had, technically, tried to murder in return. The man who had also saved his life several times, without any hesitation.

Lan Jingyi knew that Jin Ling had mixed feelings about Wei Wuxian, who he hadn’t seen since the death of Jin Guangyao. So he had to have asked him to come along on purpose, because Lan Jingyi was a damn asshole and Jin Ling hated his guts, for all that he was probably his best friend at this point.

It wasn’t hard to be the best of something when you were almost the only one.

Anyway, Jin Ling should have guessed that Wei Wuxian would get involved in this, so it wasn’t such a surprise.

But then…

Then, when he arrived at the agreed meeting point, Jin Ling saw Lan Sizhui.

It had been six months, almost. In all that time, Jin Ling hadn’t once gotten any news from the older boy. He’d asked Lan Jingyi during that one Night Hunt, and then again when Lan Jingyi had needed to crash in Jinlin Tai some weeks later, in vain. All Lan Jingyi knew was that Lan Sizhui had gone away with Lan Wangji’s blessing, and that nobody could tell when he’d be back… or if he’d come back at all for that matter, which Jin Ling had found rather ominous. Sure, Lan Sizhui’s father figure had officially married another man, and not the best of men at that, but was it reason enough to run away? Did Lan Sizhui hate Wei Wuxian in particular, or did he have a problem with all cut sleeves? In the first case, it was understandable. In the second case, Jin Ling’s heart would be crushed forever and he would never know happiness again.

But Lan Sizhui was there, and standing next to Wei Wuxian when Jin Ling arrived, chatting with a peaceful yet happy expression and looking quite animated, at least by Lan standards. Jin Ling had the sensation that the two of them hadn’t met in a while, which Lan Sizhui personally confirmed later when Jin Ling had a talk to him as well.

Six months wasn’t such a long time, and yet it had felt an eternity. Lan Sizhui hadn’t grown during that time away, not exactly, but he had a new air of maturity to himself, a certain spark in his eyes that said he had seen more than most others his age. He was a little less willowy as well, his clothes fitting differently on him compared to before, hinting at more strength than he used to have. His smile, though, remained as gentle as ever.

Jin Ling almost cursed upon seeing him.

It seemed he hadn’t gotten over his stupid crush at all.

Thankfully, for most of this, Jin Ling was too busy with the actual Night Hunt to make too much of a fool of himself. It was a pretty weird situation, with a haunted room in which a thief had died, which then led to a story about a man who had killed multiple women in a very gruesome manner. Jin Ling thought they’d handled that pretty well, really. He even got to be a little cool when he volunteered to stay the night in that haunted room to check if the ghost had really been taken care of.

Of course it hadn’t, and that was absolutely terrifying, but Jin Ling kept his cool and got to show off to all those Lan disciples in the morning when he recounted what had happened to him. He thought Lan Sizhui looked a little impressed, but that might just have been because he’d been so sure he’d solved the situation with Lan Jingyi the day before. And Jin Ling was also the one to realise the ghost they were dealing with must have been looking for a certain missing body part, which they needed to retrieve if they were to solve the case.

All things considered, Jin Ling thought he had done really great during this whole Night Hunt, and properly demonstrated to everyone, but especially a certain Lan in particular, what a great mature person he had become.

Of course Jin Ling had to ruin that.

It was just the sort of luck he had.

Jin Ling’s only defence was that he’d been exhausted at that point. They’d just spent five entire days looking for a tongue that had been cut off decades earlier, and although it would have been wise to get some sleep before all heading back to their respective sects… but they were young, they were victorious, and the only adult around to supervise them was Wei Wuxian who firmly believed that Lan juniors should be encouraged to misbehave. So of course they had all gathered at an inn, ordered plenty of food, more drink than reasonable (but that was because Wei Wuxian had to be bribed into silence) and had a bit of a party to celebrate their success.

Because Lan Sizhui had been the one to find the ghost’s tongue, everyone wanted to sit with him, it was only natural. Jin Ling had to glare and bare his teeth and elbow a few people so he could sit next to his friend, while Lan Jingyi easily found his place on the other side of Lan Sizhui by virtue of having known him basically since birth. A most unfair advantage, and one more reason to dislike Lan Jingyi, who was luckier than he had any right to be.

Lan Sizhui didn’t appear to notice how much attention was on him. Or if he did, he pretended it didn’t affect him. He just seemed happy to be spending time with everyone, and to no longer be searching around for that damn tongue. Lan Sizhui laughed at other’s jokes, blushed at their praise, made sure that everyone had enough to eat, and just generally behaved like the most perfect person the world had ever known, which he was. Jin Ling was so delighted to have him back around, and happy to see him so admired by everyone else, so of course he had to let it be known in the worst possible way.

“Of course it’s Lan Yuan who gets all the glory,” Jin Ling said at one point, while pouring himself some wine. “Isn’t it always like this? I’m sure some people must have been glad you disappeared for so long, leaving the rest of us a chance to do something. But now that you’re back, I expect it’ll all be about you, right?”

“What do you mean?” Lan Sizhui asked, his beautiful smile falling down.

Jin Ling frowned at the question. What he meant was that Lan Sizhui was, and by far, the best cultivator of their generation, so it was only natural for people to admire him. Sure some others might envy his great skill, but that was their problem, and now that Lan Sizhui was back in the Cloud Recesses, of course he’d gotten back his rightful place in the spotlight.

What else could he have meant?

“I’ve said what I said,” Jin Ling replied. “Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

Sure Gusu Lan valued modesty, but someone as great as Lan Sizhui had to know how good he was at everything, so there was no need to be so humble.

“Shut up or I’ll punch you,” Lan Jingyi threatened, his tone vicious enough to catch the attention of Wei Wuxian who’d been mostly ignoring the juniors in favour of his own jars of wine.

Even Jin Ling was startled. It was common enough for Lan Jingyi and him to argue. In fact, that was their main bonding activity, they were always bickering, but there was rarely any actual anger to it. If anything, Lan Jingyi usually seemed to enjoy that he had someone he could snap at who wouldn’t scold him for breaking sect rules. But that night, he suddenly looked earnestly furious, and it puzzled Jin Ling.

Must have been the wine, he figured. Those Lan just couldn’t handle alcohol.

“Don’t drink if you can’t deal with it,” Jin Ling said. “And don’t get angry at people just because they’re right.”

Lan Jingyi jumped to his feet, but before he could say anything more, Lan Sizhui grabbed him by the wrist and forced him to sit down away. He had to have put some strength into it, because Lan Jingyi immediately obeyed.

“Jingyi, that’s enough,” Lan Sizhui said, rather more dryly than Jin Ling was used to from him. “If that’s how Jin zongzhu feels, then that’s how it is. I hadn’t meant to be taking the spotlight in an undue manner, and I am sorry if I gave the impression I seek attention. In the future, when working with Jin zongzhu, I’ll be sure to keep my distance to avoid bothering him so much. I thought we’d work as a good team, but…”

Lan Sizhui stood up, fists clenched tight on either side of his body.

“If Jin zongzhu really hates working with me, then of course I’ll respect his choice. Now if you don’t mind, I think I’ll go to bed now. I’ve had a pretty long day.”

He turned away and left the room, leaving behind him a suddenly heavy atmosphere. None of the juniors spoke for a good while, most of them staring at the door through which Lan Sizhui had left. Jin Ling in particular was flabbergasted, scrambling to understand what exactly had just happened there.

At his end of the table, Wei Wuxian snickered as he poured himself more wine.

“You really get your people’s skills from your uncle,” he said, not quite looking at Jin Ling, but quite obviously directed at him nonetheless. “And not the right one for that, might I add. That’s something for you to work on, I’d think.”

“I’m not hearing that from you!” Jin Ling complained. “You’re a weirdo who makes everyone uncomfortable!”

“And yet I caught myself a husband,” Wei Wuxian retorted, wiggling his eyebrows in a manner that should have been illegal around impressionable young people. “Clearly I can’t be so bad at dealing with people. I can give you some lessons, if you’d like? Could teach out to flirt even. Hanguang-Jun thinks I’m very good at it.”

All the juniors shivered in fear at the idea of flirting lessons from Wei Wuxian. Even Lan Jingyi threw Jin Ling a sympathetic glance, before remembering he had randomly decided to be furious at his friend and glaring at him.

“Who… who’d want lessons from you about anything?” Jin Ling exclaimed. Then, because he tried to be fair, he added: “Unless it’s about Night Hunting. You’re good at that, when you stop acting all goofy. But for everything else, you’re too weird! If Hanguang-Jun didn’t have such weird tastes to begin with…”

The Lan juniors exploded at the implication their personal hero Lan Wangji was anything less than perfect in all aspects.

“Watch it, Jin zongzhu!”

“Hanguang-Jun’s tastes are excellent for almost everything!”

“It wasn’t enough to be mean to Sizhui, now you have to also go after Hanguang-Jun?”

That last one puzzled Jin Ling, who blinked numbly, trying to understand at what point, exactly, he’d been mean to Lan Sizhui. Before he could ask about that, Wei Wuxian started cackling and thanked all the juniors present for approving of his marriage. This backfired when it turned out that the boys were, in fact, very supportive of the union, and had drunk just enough to not feel ashamed about it. Wei Wuxian, always so quick to tease others with great declarations of affection at a bad moment, completely collapsed under that unexpected wave of affection, which pushed the Lan juniors to be even more demonstrative, until everyone’s attention was on Wei Wuxian.

Jin Ling took his chance and left the table without being noticed, suddenly needing some fresh air. He couldn’t go very far, in case others started to worry, but he still left the inn and started walking up and down the street where it stood, trying to put some order in his thoughts.

He didn’t think that he had been rude to Lan Sizhui, of course. Or at least, he had certainly not intended to be. But between intentions and results there could be a world of difference, and it was true that Jin Ling was sometimes… he tried hard, he really did. He wanted to be as smooth as Jin Guangyao had been (though with less secrets), and he wanted to be as respected as Jiang Cheng was (though preferably without needing to resort on inspiring fear quite as much). But he had a tendency to sometimes say the wrong thing.

More than sometimes.

Things would be quite clear in his mind, and then he opened his mouth and said something that pissed off everyone. It didn’t usually matter too much, because he was Lanling Jin’s sect leader, meaning he had enough money and power that people wouldn’t dare get angry at him too openly. But it had always been more of a problem when it came to his personal life. He’d gotten in many fights with his various cousins over the years because they deemed him rude and proud.

With juniors of other sects, he didn’t really get along all that well either, for the same reason, not until everything that happened in Yi city the year before… and even that had more to do with the people he’d met than with any personal improvement. Ouyang Zizhen was just the sort of person who got along with everyone, even with spoiled brats like Jin Ling. Lan Jingyi was an awful little pest, but he hadn’t been scared by Jin Ling’s status in the least, so they’d quickly found a way to co-exist, even if most people didn’t realise they’d become good friends. And as for Lan Sizhui… well, he was the most perfect person in the world, patient in spite of Jin Ling’s temper, kind to everyone, always striving to bring peace around him, always willing to see the best in others.

Jin Ling stumbled, and nearly fell face first into the dirt of the street.

Lan Sizhui had really looked upset when he’d left, so Jin Ling really must have said something wrong. The most perfect, most patient person in the world, and Jin Ling had managed to make him angry. That really wasn’t a good way to start courting someone.

And he wanted to court Lan Sizhui. Seeing him again after a few months had only made it clear to Jin Ling that this wasn’t just a crush, it was love. He was in love with Lan Sizhui, and determined to make him fall in love back… somehow.

What he needed was… what he needed…

Somewhere behind him, the inn’s door cracked open, just enough for Wei Wuxian to peek outside.

“Jin Ling, it’s getting late!” he shouted, uncaring that he might wake up the whole street. “Everyone’s going to bed and you should as well.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Don’t make me come get you,” Wei Wuxian warned. “Come, you’ll feel better in the morning. Just apologise to Sizhui at breakfast and he won’t hold it against you, he’s a good boy like that.”

Mortified at the idea that Wei Wuxian might try to drag him to bed like a petulant child, Jin Ling made his way back to the inn. He was annoyed though. He’d been on the verge of a great idea when Wei Wuxian had called for him, and now he’d lost it. Hopefully, he’d remember later.

Right then, he just went to sleep as ordered.

In the morning Jin Ling apologised to Lan Sizhui, though he still wasn’t sure what he’d said wrong, and Lan Sizhui apologised back for reacting so strongly to a little bit of criticism. Jin Ling hadn’t dared to say he hadn’t meant to criticise, because then he’d have had to explain he was trying to compliment Lan Sizhui, and everyone was there watching them, and it would have been too embarrassing.

The Lan then left to head back to Gusu, while Jin Ling had to return to Lanling to write a report on this situation they had solved.

The whole time he flew towards home, he couldn’t help but wondered if he hadn’t somehow managed to ruin his entire love life at the ripe age of fifteen, just because his mouth and his brain couldn’t get along.

#zhuiling #lingzhui #jin ling #lan sizhui #xisang #though it won't be there until next chapter actually oops?#mdzs #jau writes #operation woo a lan #yeah this was my other big bang fic and i figured i might as well start posting that too #there's also one with nhs and xue yang but that one doesn't even have a presentable first chapter yet so it must wait a bit

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tanyawritesstories · 3 years

Text

Friendly Competition | Boost x Reader

This is a fic I wrote a long time ago and I'm only now posting. I haven't written in months and I'm honestly thinking about quitting but regardless, here you go I hope you like it.

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: NSFW, smut, vibrators, butt plugs, general mischief, anal exploration (the good kind), fluff, Sinker is nosey

•••

It wasn't often that you visited these kinds of stores. You usually just ordered the products from the holonet and waited for them to be delivered, but you were out and about with your boyfriend and it was his last day on leave. You both had been walking through the mid levels of Coruscant and seen the store. You decided it would be worth it to try and find something fun to spice things up while you were away.

You and Boost had both kept your jacket hoods up as you entered. Boost looked around curiously while you kept your head tilted down just enough to hide the permanent blush staining your cheeks. Sure, you'd been in sex toy stores before, but that time was with a group of friends where the attention wasn't on you and you could easily blend into the group and not be noticed.

Boost took your hand in his, interlacing your fingers together as you roamed the store, browsing. "You're not usually the shy one," he whispered. You looked up at him, finding a teasing smirk on his handsome face. Your face turned even more red and you buried your head in his chest, causing him to laugh. He put his arms around you and held you to him, loving how much bigger he was than you. You closed your eyes and nuzzled into him, resting the side of your head against his warm body. You listened to his heartbeat, it was one of the things that comforted you the most.

You opened your eyes after a moment and spotted an interesting object across the room. You broke away from Boost and made your way to it. Plucking the box off the shelf you glanced over it, a number of wicked ideas popping into your brain.

"Baby," you called sweetly, "come here please." You turned around and hid the box behind your back, watching as Boost walked closer with a suspicious look on his face. "Oh no," he said, "what've you found?" You smiled. "If I ask nicely will you wear this?" You brought the box out from behind your back. Boost's eyebrows shot up on his face as he looked at the image on the box.

"A vibrating buttplug?" He questioned. "Are you serious?" You giggled, "c'mon babe, it'll be fun." Boost crossed his arms over his chest and sighed.

It was a recent discovery that Boost liked anal. You had been in the middle of giving him a mind shaking blowjob when you decided to be bold. Your fingers were slicked up with spit and precum so you had slowly pushed one fingertip inside him. He came instantly, letting out the most heavenly noises you'd ever heard him make. You both had discussed it afterwards and Boost had shown interest in exploring the realm further. You figured this was a good next step, you also loved to be a tease.

"Please Boostie, baby. Please! It'll be fun, I promise," you pleaded. "Look at you, begging in public," he teased. Your blush deepened and you glared at him through your eyelashes. "Please," you whispered. Boost sighed and stared at the ceiling, thinking. A sly smirk formed on his face, making you uneasy.

"I will wear that if.." he took a few steps back and picked something off another shelf, "..you wear these."

You looked at him in disbelief. "Vibrating panties? That's where you're taking this?"

"It's only fair," he said. "You wear these one day and I'll wear that the next." You thought about it, another fantastic idea coming to mind.

"Alright, you wear this one day on campaign and I have the controller. Then I'll wear those another day and give you the controller. When we get back and go to 79s like we always do, we'll both wear them."

Boost nodded. "The goal is you can't draw any suspicion, try to be as quiet and collected as possible while the other one of us teases the other with the controller. Whoever breaks first loses."

You nodded and walked to stand next to him. "No touching allowed, only tease with the vibrator. If anyone manages to guess exactly what we're both doing, which I doubt, then we both lose." Boost smiled, "Deal."

~~~~

Luckily, this campaign would be a short one, only a week long supply mission. You snuck your toy contraband into the cruiser with no trouble, hiding both small boxes amongst your clothes.

You were a strategist, normally coming up with battle plans. General Plo Koon had put you in charge of this mission, hoping to give you more assignments in the future that didn't just include destroying things.

The General was currently attending business at the Jedi temple, leaving you and Commander Wolffe in charge of the entire operation. You could tell Wolffe wasn't a fan of it, but he would do his job without complaint.

After the first couple days of traveling, the cruiser had arrived above the planet. The first day of delivering supplies to the surface was also the first competition day.

Boost had made sure that the vibrator was working and in its proper place when you got ready this morning. He had watched you the entire time you got ready, twirling the small controller in his hand giddily.

“You had better be nice,” you warned lightly. “Oh I won’t,” Boost laughed. He had a sexy but dangerous look in his eyes which was turning you on already. Not a good start.

The boring tasks of the day went by without any issue, until it was time for the briefing. You knew your boyfriend was bound to pull something here, but you didn’t know exactly what.

It’s ok, just act normal.

That was easier said than done.

The second you entered the room all eyes were on you, patiently awaiting the plan of action. You smiled at everyone and was making your way to the front of the room when you felt the vibrator start up. You let out a squeak and your knees buckled, you grabbed onto the table nearby for support. You laughed nervously and stood up straight, determined to win and keep a straight face.

“Alright everyone, classic supply mission nothing you all haven’t done before,” you started. Boost was sneaky, manipulating the controller without anyone knowing, spiking the intensity up and down quickly. The tiny jolts and deep breaths you were taking were causing a few of the men to give you weird looks as you talked.

“..and of course the remainder of the week will be spent making sure that the civilians have everything they neeeeed!” Your voice rose to a squeal at the end as you felt the vibrations increase significantly. You clenched your thighs together and your breathing picked up.

“Are you alright, sir?” You heard one of them ask. You looked up, eyes scanning the room, a few of the men looked concerned and others looked confused. You glanced over a Boost for a brief second to find him with a shit eating grin on his face, half hidden by his hand. The vibrations felt good, you just didn’t want it to feel good right now. The toy was positioned just over your clit, delivering pleasurable tingling that flowed through your body.

“Y/N.”

You stood up straight at the voice of Commander Wolffe, who was standing on the other side of the room. “Are you ok to continue, or are you not capable?” He questioned with an annoyed tone. You took a deep breath and steeled yourself. “I’m alright, Commander,” you said. The rest of the briefing went by without too much of a hitch, Boost was still being a little shit but you were determined not to let him win.

The entire day was filled with frustration. Boost wouldn’t let up, bringing you to the precipice of orgasming in front of a few civilians you were talking to, you wanted to slap him for that one. Every time he turned the vibrations high your knees would bend and you’d let out either a yelp or a moan that you tried to cover up. It got to the point where one of the medics pulled you aside and asked if there was something seriously wrong. You were able to convince him that you were fine and just tired. You walked triumphantly back to your tent as the day ended. You had won this round.

~~~~

You woke Boost up by laying on top of him and nuzzling your nose into his neck. He groaned, reluctantly opening his eyes to find you already looking at him. A few days on the planet had passed and it was now Boost’s turn to compete. “What time is it?” He grumbled. “Oh six hundred,” you answered, getting off of him and kneeling on his sleeping mat. “What do we have to do today?” Boost rubbed his eyes. “Same thing we did yesterday only in a different part of the city,” you responded. Boost looked up at you and you smiled deviously. “Guess what you have to wear today,” you said. You reached into your pocket and pulled out the silicone plug. “Did you seriously wake me up this early just to put a buttplug in me?” He asked with almost disbelief in his voice.

You giggled. “Maaayybeee. Everybody else is going to wake up soon so I suggest we get a move on.” Boost groaned again and rolled onto his stomach, putting his hips up in the air. You removed his blanket and rubbed his back to calm him down, he turned his head so he could see what you were doing. You had to admit, your boyfriend looked incredibly hot in this position: head down, ass up. It was causing your own arousal to spike; who knew, maybe if he liked this he’d let you peg him sometime down the road.

“It’s not gonna hurt, is it?” He asked. You smiled warmly at him as your hands wandered lower, rubbing gently over his bum. “No, it shouldn’t, sweetie. We got the smallest one they had, it’s not much bigger than my fingers,” you told him. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to, Boost.” He took a deep, calming breath, “No, I want to do it.” You smiled and kissed his cheek, “I will have to get you ready first, ok? I’m just going to use my fingers to stretch you out a little so you can take the toy, ok?” Boost nodded and verbally agreed.

You fished the small bottle of lube out of your pocket and slid his blacks and briefs down to his thighs. “You have a very cute butt, baby,” you commented, causing Boost to laugh. You touched your fingers to the crease where his ass and thigh met, slowly running your fingers up to their destination. Boost sucked in a breath as your fingers danced over his hole and his muscles tensed up. “You have to relax, baby,” you cooed, “otherwise it might hurt. Do you want me to touch your cock too? Might help you relax.” Boost shook his head and balanced his upper half on his elbows. “No, we agreed to no touching, just do what you have to do to get it in,” he urged.

You complied and reminded him to relax. You squirted some lube onto your index finger and some onto his hole, spreading it around. “I’m going to put my finger in now, ok?” Boost nodded and took a deep breath, exhaling when you told him to. On his exhale his muscles loosened and you slowly pushed your finger in just past the first knuckle. You could hear him bite back a moan and his breathing started picking up a little bit. You waited until he got used to it before beginning to thrust your finger in and out, pushing it a little bit deeper every time.

“How is it?” You asked. He let out a shaky breath. “Just get the plug in, I won’t last long if you keep doing that,” he breathed. You smiled, it was a good feeling knowing that you could get your boyfriend to the brink of bliss with just a finger in his ass. You carefully added a second finger, repeating the same slow motions and techniques to gently stretch him out. When you thought he was ready, you lubed up the toy and removed your fingers, enjoying the whining sound he made when he was empty.

You rested the toy against his ass and slowly pushed it in. Boost bit his lip to hold back the indecent noises threatening to spill out. "Just a little further," you encouraged. You used your other hand to trace his V lines and divert his attention to get him to relax. He shuddered and you noticed the erection that was being held down with the front of his briefs. One last small push on your part and the plug came to a rest inside him.

Boost let out a breath and you chuckled. "There's a good boy. How's it feel?" You questioned. He shifted his hips and wiggled around, trying to get used to the feeling. "It's a bit….odd," he said. You pulled his blacks and briefs back up and spanked him. "Stand up, it'll feel different," you urged, standing up yourself. He stood up with a sigh and a weird look in his face. "I think I'll get used to it," he said. "Let's start the day."

~~~~

This was fun, you were having a great time messing with your boyfriend. It had only been little things so far on the low to medium settings of the vibrator. You had teased just enough to make him squirm a bit. Once you did it while he was moving a box of supplies and he dropped the box, which nearly landed on his foot. You hadn't used the higher settings yet, you were saving those to make a big scene that you hoped would break Boost and give you the win.

That time came when the work for the day was done. Boost, Sinker, Comet and several other troopers were sitting around a table playing an intense game of Sabacc. You were sitting at a nearby table going over the plans for tomorrow and making sure everything would be taken care of by the time the battalion had to leave the planet. From your spot you had a clear view of Boost and could hear everything being said at their table. Time to start your game.

You turned the vibrator on and upped it a couple notches. You heard Boost suck in a breath and saw him tense up, but he steadied himself and continued. You let it go for a little while before cranking it a bit higher. He took a deep breath and glanced up at you, but you had your head back in the plans already. You waited a couple more minutes until Boost was once again concentrated on his game.

You kept your eyes on Boost as you cranked the vibrator up all the way. He instantly dropped his cards with a shout and clamped his hands on his knees. He was biting down hard on his bottom lip and his knuckles were turning white from his tight grip on his legs. You heard his brothers asking if he was alright and Boost tried to explain it away as a leg cramp, which wasn’t convincing at all. Boost took a few deep breaths, calming himself down and picking his cards back up. He wiggled a bit and leaned forwards in his seat so there was less pressure on the plug as opposed to sitting directly on it. After a few seconds their game continued as normal, you tried again a few times after that but got only small reactions from him. Boost looked over at you and winked, knowing he had won his round as well. You held back the urge to bonk him on the head, it would all come down to the final round in a few days.

~~~~

The supply mission had been a success, the citizens of the planet were grateful for the aid and they were well on their way to the complete restoration of their cities when the 104th had left. Now, back on Coruscant, Boost and yourself were just arriving at 79s where several more of his brothers waited. You were both wearing your toys tonight as part of the game that had been discussed. This was the final round, whoever broke, if anyone could, would be the loser. Neither of you had talked about a prize or reward for the winner, both too caught up in the idea of a fun and arousing game.

Boost and you entered the club and found his brothers waving you over to the table they had occupied already. You greeted them with smiles and went to sit down. The moment your butt hit the seat, Boost cranked the vibrations up high and you yelped, trying to stand back up and striking your knee hard on the underside of the table. Wildfire asked if you were ok and you assured him that you were before sliding uncomfortably into the booth to make room for Boost to sit next to you.

Warthog brought several drinks back to the table from the bar and you all chatted, laughed, and drank carelessly, enjoying the free time spent together. Boost was halfway through taking a sip of his beer when you turned his vibrator on, causing him to spit some of it back into his glass on reflex. He began coughing to try and cover up the moan he nearly let slip, all while you tried to hold back giggles and whimpers of your own.

A few minutes later, Boost put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. It was nothing out of the usual for his brothers to see, but under the table he used his leg to nudge yours apart allowing your vibrator to land directly on your clit. You bit your lip and leaned your head into his chest, hoping none of them saw the blissed out look on your face. You turned Boost’s vibrator up a bit but he didn’t react, he’d gotten used to it and it was pissing you off. You were determined not to let him win.

When he least expected it, you carefully reached your hand over, under the cover of the table, and cupped his slowly growing length. You felt him buck into your hand and you made a point to be discreet, carrying on with conversation so no one suspected anything. You started rubbing Boost through his pants at which point he lowered his mouth to your ear. “You’re cheating,” he growled. You smiled and laughed, pretending he whispered a joke into your ear. “Yeah, well so are you,” you whispered back. You tried tugging your spread leg out from where he had it trapped under his own, but it was no use, Boost was strong. He glared at you and you glared right back for a few seconds until you both went back to acting normal, but Boost had an idea.

The next round of drinks came and the boys were starting to get more buzzed. You had your drink set on the table in front of you, you were about to reach for it when Boost reached across you in a hurry and knocked the glass of beer over. You gasped as the liquid spilled all down the front of you, you immediately knew he had done it on purpose, there was no way he didn’t. The rest of the boys asked if you were alright and you told them that there was no harm done.

“You want help cleaning that up, babe?” Boost asked, a suggestive look in his eyes. “Yes, that would be very helpful,” you replied. Boost told the boys that you would both be back soon before leading you back to the one-room refresher at the back of the club. As soon as the door was closed and locked, Boost was pushing you up against the wall, his lips colliding heatedly with yours. You made out, wrapping a leg around his hips to bring him closer and you could feel his hardened length against your thigh.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to restrain myself from pouncing on you while this thing was in my ass?” He asked, his breathing shallow. “I swear I’ve never been more turned on in my life.” You smirked and brought your leg down. “I think we can make an arrangement,” you purred. You hooked your fingers on your panties and dragged them down your legs while Boost bunched your skirt up around your waist. “Fuck, you’re glistening,” he observed. Boost kicked your legs apart and slowly ran a finger up and down your slit, collecting your juices. You whimpered, his actions sending pleasure radiating through your body.

You quickly worked on unzipping his pants and shoving them down to his knees, watching his long cock spring free of its restraints. You whimpered at the sight and Boost felt your hole flutter as he pushed two fingers inside you. “Fuck the rules, I’m going to take you hard and fast against this wall, that ok?” Boost asked breathlessly. “Don’t make me wait,” you replied with a devious smile. You smashed your lips into his and Boost lined himself up before slamming inside you in one powerful thrust.

You screamed as your back arched from the feeling, your noises drowned out by the loud music. Boost’s cock always filled you so nicely and you felt him twitch inside you. “Holy fuck, this feels good, shiiiit,” Boost moaned loudly. You then remembered while you had taken off your vibrating panties, Boost still had his vibrator nestled snugly inside his asshole. He started to fuck you at a fast pace making noises you’d never heard your boyfriend make before, moaning and whimpering so loud you were glad for the blaring music outside. You wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck, meeting his thrusts and kissing his neck.

“Fuck, Boost, please harder,” you begged. Boost held you against him, absolutely destroying your pussy with the speed of his thrusts, the pleasure blaring through your body. “Babe, turn it up,” he grunted, “turn it up all the way and play with your clit, I’m close.” You fished the controller for his vibrator out of its hiding spot in your bra and turned it on max. You dropped the controller on the floor and used that hand to massage hard circles on your clit bringing you as close to release as your boyfriend.

Boost was overwhelmed with pleasure, his body felt like it was on fire. The plug in his ass was vibrating away, the feeling of being stuffed in his ass and strangled by your walls at the same time was mind blowing and Boost felt his release coming on fast. “I want you to cum before I do, baby,” he moaned, “aahhh, c’mon sugar, play with that clit.” His words in his voice only brought you closer, you could feel his cock twitching within you and with a few more strokes over your clit, you were cumming. White hot, liquid pleasure surged through you and your walls clamped tight around Boost’s cock. He thrusted a few more times and then stilled, his balls tightening as he shot his load deep inside you.

He reached behind him and pulled the plug out, letting it fall to the floor. He held you tight to him as your breathing settled down and you both came down from your highs. You both laughed and picked up your mess, washing off the vibrators and deciding not to wear them for the rest of the night. You both got dressed and tried your best to look like you hadn’t just fucked in the refresher of a club. You shared a sweet kiss before heading back out to the table.

Sinker was the only one still sitting at the table, the others had either gone to dance or get another drink. You sat down across from Sinker and Boost pulled you into his side. “So did you guys finally get those things out of your asses?” Sinker asked out of nowhere. You looked confused. “What things?” Sinker motioned vaguely to his lower body. “Those vibrators I assume you guys were wearing,” he answered like it was the most normal thing ever. “How did you know?” Boost asked, stunned that his brother had managed to figure it out. Sinker sat back in his seat, looking proud of himself. “I’m just that good,” he said. You and Boost shot him a guilty glare and he sighed. “I saw the packages in the trash,” he admitted.

You rolled your eyes and Boost laughed. “We tried so hard to be sneaky and we didn’t think to hide the packaging,” your boyfriend mused. “I guess this means we both lose,” you pointed out. Boost nodded in agreement and planted a kiss to the top of your head.

You’ll think of something better next time.

#star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #clone trooper boost #boost x reader #star wars

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scapegrace74-blog · 3 years

Text

Ginger Snap, Chapter 6

A/N Well, here it is. The last chapter of Ginger Snap. As an unplanned fic inspired by a vanity license plate, I’m happy with how it turned out. There will be a short epilogue posted in the next week or so. In the meantime, thank you so much for coming on this unexpected ride with me! This chapter’s themed title is Fire in the Belly.

Previous chapters are best enjoyed on my AO3 page, because I have a bad habit of going back and editing them after they’ve been posted.

The next five months were some of the most difficult of my life.

After our talk, Frank and I agreed that it would be best that we parted ways. The Southside flat was close to the university, plus I’d never truly felt at home there, so it made sense for him to keep it. Fortunately, we’d never combined our savings and I still had money tucked away from my time as a medical resident in Boston.

Geillis wanted me to move into her sprawling Murrayfield home, at least temporarily, but I knew that I needed a place of my own. To stand on my own two feet, as it were. Which was how I found myself moving my few belongings into a modest Morningside walk-up as the rest of Edinburgh celebrated Hogmanay with fireworks and drunken revelry.

I scheduled the written component of my medical licensing exam for February. This was likely foolhardy, but I’d already wasted enough time. As a result, almost every waking hour was dedicated to studying. The flat remained an empty box whose naked beige walls bore witness to my rudimentary existence.

Geillis called regularly, reminding me to eat and to occasionally step outside for a breath of fresh air. Returning up the high street from one of our weekly coffee dates, a bright flash in a shop window caught my eye.

I stopped and stared as the afternoon sun lit the vase like a shard of stained glass. It was a profound shade of blue: the colour of a field of indigo, of the night sky in a Byzantine icon, of Jamie’s eyes when he laughed. It sat on my windowsill, filled with the season’s first daffodils, as I pored over practice exams.

***

“Geillis, I passed! I fucking passed!” An elderly woman seated across from me on the bus muttered under her breath about vulgar Sassenachs, but I was too elated to care.

“Of course ye did, ye brilliant disaster. Now I can brag tae the neighbours I have my own personal physician.”

“Not so fast, Duncan. I still need to pass the clinical exam, and that’s no small thing.” My gut twisted just thinking about it, but unlike the written exam, there was little I could do to prepare. Either I knew how to perform as a doctor or I did not. The long months since I’d last treated a patient loomed like a large shadow over that question.

“Och, yer bum’s oot the window Claire,” my friend dismissed blithely. “Ye’re gonna do great. When do ye head down tae yer homeland, then?”

“May first.” The practical examination took place in Manchester and needed to be scheduled three months in advance.

“Sounds like ye’ve got some time on yer hands. Whate’er are ye going tae do with yerself?” Geillis asked in a singsong voice.

Fortunately for me, spring was Edinburgh’s most pleasant season. Its many gardens and laneways erupted in carpets of buds and blooms. The air smelled fresh and green, like biting into a tart apple. I took long walks and fell in love with the city I now called home. There were secondhand bookstores to explore and a weekly craft market where I gradually amassed an assortment of items that made my flat feel like a home. With each passing day, my existence felt more and more like a life; one I defined for myself.

I also started to explore my options for employment, hoping for a job offer from one of the city’s hospitals that was conditional upon my successful completion of the licensing process. It was to that end that I found myself walking down the corridor of The Royal Edinburgh hospital after what I hoped had been a rather successful interview with the deputy director of surgery.

“Claire?”

I recognized her voice immediately. Before turning around I closed my eyes and sent out a fervent appeal to the universe.

“Jenny, hi. How are you?”

She looked just the same, her straight black hair such a contrast to her brother. Next to her stood a man, but not the man I had conjured the moment I heard her voice. I was unclear whether that meant my prayer had been answered or not. Seeing my gaze stray, Jenny jumped to introductions.

“This is my husband, Ian. We’re here fer treatment on his leg.”

“Nothing serious, I hope.”

“Jes a fitting fer a new prosthetic. Jenny keeps beatin’ me o’er the head with the old one, ye see.” I laughed, instantly liking his easy-going manner, so in contrast with Jenny’s intensity.

“Ye must be the Claire I hear sae much about,” he went on, and I wondered what had been said about me in the Fraser household.

“Nothing bad, I hope.”

Ian smiled warmly. “Only good things, I promise ye.”

“What brings ye tae the hospital, Claire?” Jenny interjected.

I explained how I was in the process of qualifying to practice medicine in Scotland, provided I could pass my exams. Jenny and Ian were both delighted, congratulating me as though I’d already accomplished my goal. As we spoke about Wee Jamie’s latest exploits and the ongoing growth of Ginger Snap, I couldn’t help notice that Jenny was staring at my hands. At my left hand in particular. Finally, I couldn’t resist temptation any longer.

“And, how is Jamie doing?” I tried to sound casual, but I was certain my faltering voice betrayed me.

“Very well,” Jenny replied. “Busy, as ye can imagine, but he thrives on chaos.”

I nodded, trying to be satisfied with the news that he was well. It was the most I could hope for, really. Jenny eyed me shrewdly before continuing.

“He’s a good man, my brother. Any lass would be verra lucky tae have him. I’d like tae see him settled, but he refuses tae be rushed. Says the right woman is worth the wait.” She paused before adding, “I reckon ye ken wha’ he means.”

“Yes,” I breathed. “I know exactly what he means.”

***

I took the overnight train from Edinburgh to Manchester. It meant I was likely to arrive at the testing centre deprived of sleep, but I rationalized that most of my residency could be characterized as one long evaluation under similar conditions, and I hadn’t killed anyone yet. Still, as the velvety darkness slipped by outside my window, studded by the lights of passing farms, my doubts got the better of me.

I texted Geillis, looking for moral support. For once she didn’t reply immediately. There was one other name on my laughably short list of contacts. I deliberated for all of a minute, but the late hour and creeping panic made me impulsive.

Hello.

Best to start with something innocuous, rather than the slightly more revealing “I miss you. I think about you every day.” A reply bubble appeared immediately after I hit send. At least I hadn’t woken him up. A small tempest stirred in my gut.

Arsonist. Hello. How are you?

I tried to picture him. Was he at home? Working late? Or, in a scenario that played out far too often in my mind, on a date?

I’m alright. Well, to be honest, I feel like I’m going to puke and cry. Not necessarily in that order.

Och, lass. Do you need me to come over?

Damn it, this man. I had done nothing to deserve his unswerving loyalty but mislead him and then disappear for months on end. And yet here he was, willing to come to my aid on the flimsy pretext of a late night text. Guilt and tenderness warred for possession of my heart.

That may prove a bit difficult, Jamie. I’m on a train to England.

There was a long pause, and then a two letter reply.

Oh.

I realized at once that he’d leapt to the wrong conclusion: that I had left Edinburgh for good. I rushed to correct the error.

I’m taking the second stage of my examination to practice as a NHS doctor tomorrow. It’s all hands-on situations, and the licensing facility is in Manchester.

Arsonist, that’s wonderful news! I’m so proud of you.

I blushed, then leaned my heated cheek against the chilled pane of glass. It had been a rash impulse, but this conversation was exactly what I needed. I wasn’t alone in this. Geillis and Jamie were in my corner.

What has your stomach in a twist, then?

What if I’ve forgotten what to do?! It’s been almost a year since I’ve so much as used a stethoscope, Jamie. The exam is eighteen real-life situations and you’re given eight minutes to respond to each one. Not a second longer. I’m just... what if I fail?

And there it was. The kernel of fear that lived at the heart of everything I did. What if I failed? What if my best wasn’t good enough?

Claire, listen to me. You’re a doctor, just as I am a chef. It wouldn’t matter if I had not set foot in a kitchen in ten years, I would still remember how to cook, and I know that it’s the same for you. I believe it with everything in me.

On some level, I knew that he was right. But it still comforted me tremendously to hear it from someone I trusted.

Alright. That helps. I should let you get to bed. Thank you for talking me off my ledge, Jamie.

Anytime, Arsonist.

As I got ready sign off, another text bubble appeared.

Oh, and Claire? Don’t burn down their wee laboratory, okay? ;-)

I laughed out loud, muting my phone and reclining my seat. Outside, the stars shone brightly, tiny fires in the firmament to guide me on my way.

***

It was a lovely late spring day, and the retractable doors to the fire station were open to the warm breeze. I could hear Angus’ voice as he led a cooking demonstration for a group of young women; a bridal shower by the look of their ridiculous costumes.

“Mind the coriander, lass. Tis a verra powerful aphrodisiac, ken? I willna be held responsible if ye canna resist my considerable charms after ye eat yon soup.”

There was an outburst of giggles as I rounded the corner and entered the reception area. Jenny was on the phone. She halted mid-sentence when she saw me walk in. I rubbed my hands down the front of my jeans, trying to stay calm.

“He’s in the storeroom, in the back,” Jenny prompted before I could even offer a greeting. I smiled gratefully, relieved I didn’t have to make small talk. I had only so much courage stored in reserve, and I didn’t want to use it all up before reaching my destination.

The storeroom was long and narrow, lit by a single naked bulb and girded with shelves. Jamie stood with his broad back to the door, his curls absorbing the light like amber. He had a clipboard in one hand, performing some kind of inventory.

“Jes how many lentils dae ye reckon we need, Janet? There’s nine cans of them here already, and ye have us ordering ten more.”

I’d almost forgotten how much I loved his voice, the undulating grit and silk of it. I had to remaster the art of speech before I could reply.

“It’s not Jenny. It’s me. Claire.”

He froze, and if it weren’t for the sudden rapid flow of his breath I would have assumed he hadn’t heard me. My nerves got the better of me and I blurted out, “I like lentils. You should listen to your sister.”

“Claire.” More sigh than word. He slowly turned. It was when our eyes met that I knew nothing had changed for him. It was still there, after all these months. That look that told me I was the map to his journey, the focus to his vision, the reason to his why.

Hopefully he could read that same certainty on my face.

“I passed my exams,” I began. “I’m a doctor again.”

“Ye never stopped bein’ a doctor. This jus’ makes it official.”

“I’m still a disaster in the kitchen,” I continued. “Last week I ruined two saucepans.”

“Tha’s only a tragedy if ye dinna have someone willin’ tae cook fer ye,” he replied with a strange squinting motion I understood was meant to be a wink.

“I’m still learning who I am. How to be true to the person on the inside,” I confessed. This is what had kept me away for so long, worried that I would escape from Frank’s orbit just to be caught up in another. Jamie never once expected my submission, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t offer it out of habit.

“I’ll let ye in on a secret. Sae is everyone else,” he replied.

Without realizing it, we’d both been moving until we were crowded together amongst the dried herbs and canned goods. My hand rested against the solid metronome of his heart. Just one more confession to go.

“I burn for you in a way I’ve never burned for anything before.”

There. It was said. A thousand wings of rapture beat against the cage of my ribs, clamoring to break free. Jamie carefully pushed a loose curl behind my ear before cupping my jaw.

“Wee arsonist. Come, set my life on fire.”

#my writing #outlander #ginger snap

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heybeybey · 3 years

Text

You should be killing titans Levi

Happy Smutty Saturday everyone. I actually promised angst but the plot I have in mind for that one might need a few more weeks because my mind is melting.

Anyway, have crack instead feat. Levi getting horny over a titan. Man just can't catch a break.

And no, the sex happens in Petra's human form. Please, I'm not that fucked up yet 😭

Summary: Petra somehow acquired the Cart Titan during canon events and Levi, whose sole purpose in the past few years was to kill titans, finds himself simping over one.

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Romance, Humor, Crack

Words: 2,480

---

When Petra emerged from her titan form the first time, the only thing Levi thought about was her safety. Sure, they'd seen that Eren was perfectly fine, albeit a bit knocked out of it. But the idea of humans controlling titans is still pretty new to their own little world. As Petra's captain, of course he'd do whatever he can to protect his subordinates.

They tested out her abilities in the limited time they have until the next expedition. Hange, the mad bitch that they are, would be the one doing and leading the experiments while his squad oversees. Frankly, him and the three other guys think it's more to protect Petra from Hange's crazy ideas.

So, it was the same as usual. As far as usual can get when it comes to the Survey Corps, that is. Petra was still in his team and surprisingly, nothing changed in their relationship as captain and subordinate.

Everything only shifted when he'd seen her in action during her first expedition as a titan shifter.

He honestly thinks that her titan form is ugly as fuck. It was even uglier than Yeager's. However, seeing the fire in its eyes, in her amber eyes that is just so Petra had left him a little bit awestruck. Her titan has the same ginger hair and he shouldn't be thinking this, because he's looking at a titan, but is it shining when the light hits her tresses? He feels his mouth go dry as Petra's titan shields an injured scout from two abnormals, before making a move to kill them by biting off their napes.

She lands back on the ground, re-assembling herself in their usual scouting formation.

Fuck.

"Levi? Are you okay?" Erwin pipes up once they're all in the clear.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Erwin?"

Erwin, that bastard, only gives him a slow smirk in return.

"I hope that won't be much of a hindrance then," Erwin says, gesturing down. Levi glances down and only realizes now why his pants have started to tighten. The fact that he's currently riding a horse isn't doing him any favors.

---

There was this one time when Hange wanted to test how long the younger girl can retain her titan form and they found out that she can go on for months. He'd have to admit that he misses actually seeing Petra's face but even Levi found her titan's strength impressive.

Until she started crawling around in her human form.

He finds her crawling one afternoon and Levi feels that familiar heat flare up inside him as he takes in the curve of her back and ass. His eyes would sometimes stray there during trainings but he'd never expected her backside to be this round and full. The fact that she's currently in a dress that reaches just below her knee is only making this worse. He swallows when he sees a hint of exposed skin of her thigh and if he could bunch up her dress further, it would be so easy to just take her right now.

Levi's hand twitches, and he repeatedly needed to remind himself that touching his subordinate is considered harassment.

"What the fuck are you doing, Petra!?"

"Oh, hi captain!" Petra flushes in embarrassment, trying to push herself up against the wall but fails every time. She almost hit her head once, if Levi hadn't stepped in and helped her up himself.

"I'm sorry," She says, clinging to him. Levi, mortified that another inch closer would mean she'll feel the rising enthusiasm below his belt, tries to discreetly move his lower part away. "I didn't know this is a side effect of being in my titan form for too long. I'm actually on my way to tell Hange about it."

"Side effect?"

Petra only blushes deeper. "My body... might've forgotten how to walk properly since I've been on all fours for so long."

Levi can feel his brain short-circuiting when she said the words all fours. His brain started supplying him with an image of her on all fours in his own bedroom floor, of how he would bend her over and make her suck his-

"Hey Petra!" Thank fucking god. He'd never been so glad to have Hange around. "Gunther said you were coming to see me?"

Wanting to get everything over with completely (so he can run to his room and deal with his rising erection), he hoisted Petra up in his arms instead, leading to her wrapping her own arms around his neck. A blush tinges her soft round cheeks and he tries to avoid looking down at her, knowing that she's staring up at him in wonder.

He'd noticed this with Petra whenever they're physically close together, of how she'd be in a sort of trance whenever he'd subconsciously tuck a strand behind her ear or when she'd lean down to set his tea on his office table and he really shouldn't be thinking of this right now when he was just thinking of fucking her if Hange hadn't barged in.

Once she's settled in Hange's lab, Four Eyes took that moment to turn to Levi.

"Now you know how I feel whenever I see titans," Hange says.

"What." Horror starts to rise in Levi's chest when he realizes their implication, but only his disgust shines through his face.

"What?" Hange answers back, acting as if what they just said was a normal statement.

---

That same afternoon, Levi demanded from the medical team that they better provide him a crutch right fucking now or he won't be responsible for the injuries he'll be causing on the inhabitants of the room.

He hurriedly gives it to Petra, harshly ordering her that she is not to crawl around like that ever again for the sake of her dignity. Deep down, he knows it's to save his.

---

He tried to avoid being alone with Petra in her titan form in the coming months. Actually, he avoided being alone with her completely, even when she's out of her titan. But it's a Friday night and all the other scouts have been given time off, with some of them already packed up to go home for the weekend to see their family.

Petra, on the other hand, had no choice but to stay until further notice. She could barely leave the building unless either Levi, Eld, Gunther or Oluo is with her.

He sees her alone right now outside since Hange wanted to test if Petra can stay up all night in this form. The sun will rise up in a few hours, and he thinks this is more than enough time to indulge Four-Eyes in their curiosity.

"Captain?" It always catches him off guard whenever Petra speaks in her titan form. Her voice was so different from the sweet and cheerful tone he'd gotten used to greeting him in the morning.

"Couldn't sleep."

She's currently lying down, hands tucked under her titan's chin and it endearingly reminds him of a ginger cat curled up and poised to sleep. He noticed how Petra's eyes reveals just how bored she is, staring only straight ahead.

"Aren't you tired?" Levi asks, leaning his body against the side of Petra's titan form. Feeling the titan's bare skin almost made him flinch because he knows it's Petra. He shouldn't be thinking of his subordinate naked right now but her titan form isn't helping at all.

"Levi... are you actually getting attracted to a titan?" Erwin had asked him once, amusement coloring the blonde man's features, when he caught Levi staring at Petra's titan form during one of her experiments with Hange. "Maybe I shouldn't have allowed you to be around Hange too much."

"Are you on some drugs, Erwin?" Levi snaps, but can't help the thumping in his chest and the rising panic because of course Erwin would catch on eventually. "Are you getting too smart that that brain of yours actually rotted and died in a shithole?"

Petra only shakes her head. "I'm all good, captain. Besides, Hange tells me I can take the day off to rest tomorrow. Still can't leave the barracks though."

Levi tries to avoid cringing at hearing her titan's voice. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to it. "Can you not talk to me while you're using that voice? Get out of there." He orders.

Petra, always obedient and willing to please her captain, did get out of her titan. She struggled with detaching her hands as usual and Levi sighs, making a move to climb up and help her.

Before he gets the chance to do so, Petra was able to pull herself out abruptly but the force was enough to send her flying to the ground.

Levi's reflexes was fast enough to try and cushion her fall but the angle wasn't right for him to catch her properly, and Petra ends up landing on top of Levi and both of the groan at the impact.

Levi thinks that his erection must really hate him. It already betrayed him once during a fucking expedition. It's rising again now as Petra shuffles around in an attempt to stand up, muttering a string of sorry captain! and I didn't mean to, her every action brushing further against his dick.

"Stop it, Petra!" He shouts, panic almost tinging his voice. Petra freezes at his voice and Levi thinks that maybe he shouldn't have asked her to stop moving because now, his dick is directly against her thigh and she'll eventually feel everything.

He watches as confusion passes through Petra's face, before it shifts to shock when she finally realizes what was pressing against her thigh, eventually settling on a coy smile.

They stared at each other a little longer before this minx actually found the courage to intentionally press her thigh down further. Levi finally allows his pent up lust and frustration to blow over, growling as he grabs Petra's hair to pull her down for a bruising kiss.

---

When Petra mentioned that she's getting a whole Saturday off to rest, he's pretty sure this wasn't how Hange instructed the younger girl to spend her day.

He already came once after she enthusiastically sucked him off. He could only watch in a daze as Petra took him as far as she could, almost intentionally choking herself on his own cock. He's surprised at how much of an absolute freak Petra is, insisting that she's going to swallow every last drop of him even when he tried to push her away for her sake.

Now, she's settling herself on his bed, on all fours, and Levi's pretty sure he's going to die before this day ends. He palms her ass, giving a squeeze as he feels her up, before kneeling behind her to deliver hot kisses down her spine. Petra shivers when he pulls on her hips to draw her closer.

"I wanted to rail you so bad the past few weeks, Petra." He whisper against her skin, hand trailing down to start playing with her clit. "Fuck, your experiments with Four Eyes only made it worse."

"Take me like this then, captain." She says in the filthiest voice she could muster, grinding her ass up firmly against his clothed erection and opening her legs further for him. From the naughty smirk that she's giving him, Levi finally realizes that she'd already known just what has been running on his mind the past few weeks.

He can see her core glistening, half from when he'd fucked her with his tongue earlier on and half from her eagerness and anticipation to have him inside her as soon as possible.

He tears his underwear away, wasting no time in breaching her wet core. Petra moans wantonly, curving her lower back further so she can push her ass up to pull him inside of her more.

How can someone who sounds and looks and acts so sweet be such a fucking slut in bed? he thinks in a daze as he starts pounding inside her.

It was a tight fit and Petra grabs one of his hands to push his palm up against her breast. Levi was all too eager to indulge in her fantasies, thumbing down her erect nipple and squeezing as he gives a hard thrust.

When he hits the spot inside her just right, that's when they both fasten their pace. Petra braced her arms against the sheets, head falling down and forehead resting against the soft bed as she takes everything that Levi gives her.

She comes first, grabbing a pillow to catch a moan that's bordering a scream. Levi revels in the feeling of her tightening around him and after Petra says yes, I can take birth control come inside me, captain please, he didn't even think. He just lets himself go and Petra moans further as he releases hotly inside her.

Petra slacks down on the bed with him following, his bare and sweaty chest against her back. He rolls away after he'd caught his breath, and Petra giggles from contentment and ecstasy.

Her giggles shoot straight down to his cock and Levi finds himself starting to harden again. She squeaks a bit when she feels his growing erection against her ass before smirking, a challenging glint on her amber eyes as she finally turns to face him.

No words were needed to be spoken and she tempts him by throwing a toned leg over his middle, inching her skin closer to his crotch.

Needless to say, Petra found herself on her back, knees almost touching her shoulders as the captain made sure she kept her legs open for each of his thrusts.

After that round, Levi could only exhaustedly lie on his back afterwards. His mind is still swimming after orgasming for the third time in a row.

He was about to ask her if she'd like to take a shower first before they sleep, only for Petra to roll herself on top of him. She started peppering kisses along his jaw and neck, making it a point to grind her exposed nipples against the hard lines of his chest.

"Fuck, again?"

"Didn't Hange tell you that the cart titan has amazing endurance?" Petra leans in, a coy smile on her lips. "I can go on for hours, captain."

#rivetra #levi x petra #petra x levi #rivapeto #rivapet #this is the stupidest idea ive ever had #semi crack #almost crack #the sex isn't THAT freaky dont worry ahahaha

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matan4il · 3 years

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ALICEEEEE. I’m still screaming about that episode and your meta 🥺🥺 Question... and I hope I can word this so it makes sense. Do you think everything buddie leading up to now has been too subliminal or implied and not obvious enough for them to make this leap with buddie? Like we see it 100%, but to the casual viewer, they might not have picked up on the parallels and the hidden meanings and symbolism? Sometimes I think it would be crazy not to see it, but then again there are people who don’t. I want buddie to happen sooooo bad and they’ve set it up so perfectly that it could happen(!!!) but I’m worried/wondering if it would be coming completely out of left field for their casual viewers and this would prevent its possibility. What do you think?

Hi, lovely Nonnie! Thank you so much for the kind words, and I'm with you, I'm still screaming over that ep as well! Oh, I get you fully. I do think a lot of casual viewers with a heteronormative mindset probably haven't seen any of what we've seen. At most they may think the Elf Lady bit was a weird joke at the expense of Buck and Eddie's characters. Which is a part of why, if 911 wants to make Buddie canon, it has to do it with a slow burn, it has to build up to it slowly, to show these viewers that this isn't out of left field, just like it isn't with any of the other slow burn couples the audience is used to. Which is one reason why I never thought they would just delve right in with a Buddie kiss. We have to have 'feelings realization' and 'pining away' first. Those are the stages when characters in love gather the sympathy of viewers, who slowly start rooting for the two to get together, if only so their fave can stop longing and start being happy. It will still miss some viewers, but a lot less than jumping right in. We still don't know for sure the show is going for canon Buddie, but it sure seems to be building towards that exact stage of a good slow burn. So here's hoping! Thank you for the great ask! xoxox

> To the Nonnie who wrote me a few days ago such a kind ask and mentioned my medical stuff and life, I hope you saw I replied and that I asked whether you'd be willing to step forward in DMs? Please! I'd really like to be able to properly hug you! xoxox

> To the Nonnie who wrote about how I answer my asks, would you mind contacting me in DMs? I have a few follow up questions. Thank you in advance! xoxox

(2 more under the cut)

Hi Alice! I don’t typically speculate AT ALL but I’m having a hard painting a picture in my mind in which Buddie doesn’t become canon. However, since I’m not convinced that the show runners will let it happen, I would like to guard my heart and prepare for the possibility that it doesn’t 😂 but like what could possibly happen... Carla tells Eddie to follow his heart, he looks very much doubtful and not in love (it’s all over your face, you sweet idiot), but his near death experience and Ana at his bedside suddenly makes him realize he does love her? What?! 🤔 That doesn’t make any sense at all and... boring. And what would have been the point of Carla’s comment? Then, Taylor makes it very clearly she wants to be friends, but seeing her friend in emotional distress suddenly makes her realize she wants to be in a relationship? What?! 🤨 That also makes not a shred of sense, especially given her character. I really don’t want you to help me speculate Buddie not becoming canon, but rather, can we agree that these narratives would be a bit of a stretch? (I’m not a writer, so maybe theres other ways that make more sense...I don’t wanna hear them 🙉😂). What do you think? I guess they could keep Buck and Eddie as just friends, but it seems like a lot of drama/build up (and interesting comments suggesting otherwise) for nothing, considering I don’t see either of the situations above happening. Literally the only reason for it would be to traumatized everyone (us and the characters) hahaha. I’m very interested to see how this plays out next week!! And I know you don’t really like to speculate either, so PLEASE don’t feel like you have to answer this ask. I won’t be upset at all. Thank you SO much for sharing your brilliant metas, you are so so insightful and they give me so much hope every week!!! 💛

Awwww! Thank you so much for this wonderful ask, Nonnie! I'm really happy to be sharing my thoughts with you and I'm so happy that you enjoy them so much! *HUGS* NGL, I thought about those scenarios with Ana and Taylor, too. And the sad reality is... sometimes TV shows do go for bad plots. I've been burned before. Even shows that did brilliant things and then turned around and went for the worst possible sequence of events. That hasn't been 911 so far, but there is no guarantee that the show won't do something dumb. But in terms of the narrative they're building, plus some of the hints they've been dropping in some promos this season (assuming those hints aren't just overhyping stuff), the only natural turn of events after the end of 413 would be a Buddie feelings realization. And I think it says a lot if even people like you and I, who don't like speculating, are over here thinking of this as the only reasonable continuation of what we've seen so far. Thank you so much, you kind lovely! xoxox

The set up just before Eddie gets shot has been (understandably) overlooked, but it’s important! We have two ambulances taking the mother and son away and see Eddie standing between them. We know from Carla’s insinuation that Eddie is grappling with what to do with his relationship. Can it just be him and Chris? Does Chris need a maternal figure? Where does Buck fit in? This shot, Eddie between mother and son, beautifully parallels his own dilemma. (+ Buck in front of him, just out of reach...)

Oooh, Nonnie! Very interesting and NGL, if that's what the show was going for, it would be pretty spectacular. The one thing that makes me hesitate is that Ana is not even close to being a co-parent to Chris so far. So yes, maybe Eddie's been envisioning her in that role and dating her because of it, but IDK that most viewers would see a mom in the same scene with Eddie and it would make them think of Ana. At the same time, I *do* think the storyline right before the sniper shoots intentionally emphasizes Eddie as a good dad, who can feel so much even for a stranger's kid, on purpose. It does connect with why he's really been dating Ana. So your view of that scene makes a lot of sense and thank you so much for sharing it! xoxox

#buddie #buddie meta #911 meta #911meta #9-1-1 #evan buck buckley #evan buckley #eddie diaz #edmundo diaz #ana flores #taylor kelly #911 speculation #ask #fandom love #kindness #anon ask #911 on abc #911abc #911 abc

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rosy-cheekx · 3 years

Note

from the dialogue prompts! 6: “go away” “no, not until i know you’re okay”

Oh boy this one was hard to write for whatever reason, but she’s done! just in time for us to pretend a world in which Jon or Martin’s lives are ever in real danger doesn't exist....right?

AO3 Link in source on OP

On Being Fine, Absolutely Well-Adjusted, and OK

Martin supposed he should count himself lucky. He hadn’t needed to go to the hospital after the Prentiss attack, had come out with only a few worm scars to show for it, god especially when he thought about Jon and all the worms he and Sasha had had to corkscrew out of him, his face and neck and arms and legs—

See? Martin shook his head, clearing his mind’s eye of the silver and crimson kaleidoscope. It could have been worse. He scratched at his calf, where a close trio of scars had begun to heal, skin-tight and shiny, and, at last, remembered he was supposed to be washing his hands. He was glad the unisex Archive lav didn’t have a mirror by the sink; he didn’t need a reminder of how tired he must look.

The return to work had been difficult, but not as bad as he had expected it to be. Knowing Prentiss was dead had made it easier to return home, though he had immediately spent his first pain-free day rearranging the furniture, as recommended by his therapist. (He had lied to her, of course, claimed an attempted break-in + assault had traumatized him. It wasn’t that far off from the truth, anyways.) So Martin had been spending his evenings repositioning, redecorating, cleaning; anything he could to erase Jane Prentiss and those horrid things from his mind. It wasn’t easy, and Martin still spent nights awake, hyperaware of the smallest sound of squelching or the smell of rot. But he was alive, he reminded himself at home in the mornings, concealing eye bags and trying to reassemble his appearance into some approximation of normal, and shouldn’t that be enough? He hadn’t been seriously injured, like Jon or Tim, hadn’t had to risk a lonely end save them all like Sasha. He should be the most well-adjusted of the three of them.

So why was he here, in the Archive toilet, gripping the edge of the sink so hard he might crack it?

Martin released his grip and watched his blood flow back into his fingers, flexing them. He should really go do...something. Work, probably, if Jon ever decided to stop speaking to him like he was a jigsaw with too many pieces. He splashed some water on his face and exhaled deeply. He was fine, he could-

“Oh shit!” Martin yelped as he turned to face the door into the bullpen. In the reflection at the corner of the mirror that hung on the back of the door was a shiny, squat, silver worm. “Fuckfuckfuck!” Martin cursed, backing into the door and pulling his shoe off with one hand. He patted for his beltloop, where had taken to keeping his corkscrew, and huffed to find it gone. Of course. He was trying not to be paranoid.

Picking up his shoe, he threw it at the worm, half-hidden by the rubbish bin. It bounced harmlessly—or, maybe it hit? Martin couldn’t tell. Either way, the worm moved, and that was when Martin’s vision greyed dangerously, heart leaping to his throat. Oh god, he couldn’t breathe? Why couldn’t he breathe? Was it the carbon dioxide? No. The fire alarm wasn’t going off. Martin’s thoughts raced and he desperately jiggled the door handle, only to find it turning against him. Oh god, it was her. It was-

“Martin?”

It was Jon.

“Jon? Jon, fuck, hey, don’t come in, okay? There’s a worm and I don’t want any of you getting hurt.”

…is what he would have said if he could catch his breath. Instead, all he could let out was a raspy, strangled “Jon.”

“Martin, are you alright in there?” Jon’s voice was too calm, too casual for the bile rising in Martin’s throat.

“W-worm.” Martin sputtered as he heard a click of a cane through the door; probably Jon taking a step backward at the word. “Got-gotta kill it,” he babbled, more to himself than to Jon. He could try with the shoe again, but it hadn’t worked the first time, and that would leave him unprotected if he wanted to step on it.

“No! Martin, don’t-”

Oh, he could step on it. Seized in a moment of something, a peculiar blend of bravery, fear, and plain exasperation, Martin crossed the few squares of lino between him and the worm and moved to step on it with precision. To his great surprise, it rolled out from under his foot, glinting against the overhead lighting.

“What?” Martin mumbled aloud, and the realization hit him all at once: this wasn’t a worm at all. Cautiously, he picked up the metal tube and spotted a small label on the bottom. The thin silver tube contained MAC #239: Not Like Other Girls, according to the reddish-brown sticker.

“Lipstick?” Martin whispered to himself, slumping against the wall of the bathroom and letting out a relieved sob. He had been terrified of lipstick?

The realization that should have calmed him down instead sent him spiraling. Martin Blackwood wasn’t always the calm one, but he was always the shoulder to lean on. He couldn’t do this, not have a breakdown in the middle of his workplace, not with—

Tapping came from the door outside. “Martin? Do I need to break the door down?” Jon was still outside, Martin realized with a start.

“Uh-” Martin choked back a sob. “No, no, it’s alright, Jon. I’m fine.”

“You certainly are not.”

“It was just a-a bloody lipstick tube, Jon, I’m alright. Just leave me alone.” Martin shuddered a breath as he swiped at his eyes with the hem of his sweater, praying to anything and everything that for once Jon would just do as he was told.

“No.” Of course not. “Not until I know you’re okay.” Jon’s voice was softer now, a part of Martin realized. The gentleness of his tone struck Martin and he found himself shakily standing and moving to the door. Unlocking and opening it, he saw Jon, leaning heavily on the medical cane he had been given after the incident, eyes a mix of panic and concern, like the way one might eye a wounded animal. Somehow, that look managed to make Martin feel small, protected, loved, and it warmed something in him.

It was that look that broke something in him and Martin felt a taut string inside him snap loose. Tears welled up in his eyes and he desperately swiped at them with the sleeves of his sweater, leaning against the doorframe. “I feel so stupid,” he mumbled, choked laughter mixing with his tears. He held up the lipstick tube, which he had pocketed earlier, and held it up to the light. “It doesn’t even look like them, not really, I-I-I just saw the squat and silver and panicked.”

Jon’s hand was on his arm, but he was quiet, not saying anything until Martin had collected himself, heaving sobs to hiccups to shallow breathing as he brought himself to baseline again. “Martin,” Jon said quietly, flexing the fingers that held his bicep, “I know you’ve had a rough few months.” Martin scoffed. “Fine, okay, maybe rough doesn’t begin to cover it. What I mean to say is, well…” Jon’s mouth floundered for a word properly, lips forming a few different shapes before settling on, “are you, you know, getting help?”

“Yes, Jon, I’m in therapy.” Martin surprised himself with his own honesty. “But there’s not really much I can say, you know? Not without getting carted off to a sanitorium or getting doped up on meds of some kind or another. I mean, evil worms haunting my house and my workplace? A worm woman determined to kill me and everyone I care for? Not exactly something cognitive behavior therapy will fix.”

Jon sighed in assent, nodding. “That’s fair, I suppose. I just-Martin.” The hand squeezed his elbow and Martin felt a jolt of electricity run through his skin. “You’re allowed to hurt, you know?” Martin’s eyes must have given away his thoughts because Jon continued, voice soft and gentle.

“We all suffered, Martin, but you were the one who was locked in your home, and then the basement where you work, for months on end. Just because you’re not-” he shifts to wave his cane idly, “-doesn’t mean you haven’t gone through hell alongside us.” Jon’s voice has taken on a hardness to it, an insistence Martin last remembered seeing when they were locked in Document Storage together, when Jon was so afraid of being forgotten. It made Martin shiver, not from fear but from something in the way Jon’s eyes bored into him. He was determined to make Martin believe him. Who was he to refuse The Archivist’s words?

So Martin listened, letting Jon’s insistence settle in his chest. He had suffered; he had lost months of his life to Jane Prentiss, he couldn’t sleep without a fear of worms crawling into his skin and mouth at night. He didn’t feel safe until he was in the Archives at his desk, the one that surveyed the whole room and had two fire extinguishers still tucked into the drawers. As Jon spoke, Martin let his muscles relax slowly, until he was leaned up against the alcove in which the door to the toilets stood, helpless under Jon’s gaze and yet feeling the strongest he had in weeks, if not months. Tears welled in his eyes and he heard Jon hesitantly break off.

“Ah-Martin? You-ah shit, I’m sorry.” Jon’s voice had lost the severity it had previously held and was back to its quiet insistence. “I’m sorry, you-you didn’t ask for a soapbox.”

“No, no,” Martin shook his head, raking his nails through his hair. “I...I think I needed to hear that.” He smiled; a shaky, fragile thing. He scratched the back of his calf awkwardly, trying not to dislodge Jon from where he was precariously balanced between the hand on his arm and the hand on the cane. “Thank you, Jon, really.”

Jon smiled and shifted his hand from Martin’s arm to his hand, squeezing gently before releasing it and sliding the lipstick tube from his hand before turning to the bullpen. “Anytime. C’mon, let’s see if this is Sasha’s or Tim’s. I think it’s more Tim’s color, hmm?”

#jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jmart #fanfic to a tea #cw panic attack #tma #the magnus archives #the magnus archives fanfic

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

Text

YYH Recaps: Episode 1, Surprised to be Dead

Hello, all you hypothetical readers! It's a beautiful spring day and I have a free afternoon ahead of me, so what better time to start another massive project while I guilty stuff my other WIPs deep into the depths of my hard drive? Yeah. Iffy life choices aside, someone mentioned a few weeks back that they'd love for me to recap a show I have more positive things to say about than negative (RIP RWBY) and ever since Netflix announced that their live-action adaptation of Yu Yu Hakusho is in the works, I've been itching for a re-watch of the anime. With the RWBY hiatus underway, it seemed like the perfect time to fulfill both desires.

Before we begin though, I'd like to touch on a few things that are going to influence this project.

First, YYH is near and dear to my heart. Written by Yoshihiro Togashi in the early 1990s and later adapted for an American audience by Funimation, I had the pleasure of experiencing this story five different ways: as a serialized tale in Shonen Jump, a binge read when I had the money to buy the manga, tiny snippets of the anime on Adult Swim late at night — don't tell my parents ;) — as an after-school treat on Toonami, and then years later as a re-watch when I introduced it to a friend (who, in turn, blessed me by having us watch Fullmetal Alchemist next). I used to keep a Hiei bookmark in everything I was reading, the spirit gun made it into our witch-wolf-space adventures on the playground (middle school was wild), and there was a long period of my life where I tried very hard to teach myself to stand with my hands behind my back, precisely as Genkai does. Spoiler alert: I failed. So to say I love the series is... a little bit of an understatement. I bring this up simply as a way of demonstrating that there's more than a bit of nostalgia attached to YYH for me and that will inevitably cloud my reading of it. How can it not? So that's just something to keep in mind as I work through a series that, like any having hit its 30th birthday, has its outdated, flawed, and other questionable aspects.

Second, but very much connected to the first point, is that these are pretty casual recaps. I summarize and extrapolate, focusing primarily on plot and dialogue (but with the occasional cinematography aspect tossed in). I'm not conducting research on the cultural history here — something that will come up at least once in this episode — I'm not arguing an overarching thesis, and I've never been someone who focuses on the author/production/trivia of a series. I'm here for the story as the story is presented to the viewer. If you've read my RWBY Recaps, this will function precisely the same way, with the only difference being I'm engaging with a finished text as opposed to an ongoing one, so there’s a lot less, “Maybe ___ will happen” theorizing going on.

Third, I obviously recommend that you watch the show yourself (you can find it on YouTube!), but you don't have to know the series to follow along. As these massive paragraphs attest, I tend to be both detailed and verbose, so we'll be covering every major plot point — and most of the smaller ones too.

Finally, I'm working from the dub. I know, I know, the horror. But it's what I grew up on and, honestly, I think it's superior to the sub. YYH's dubbing is in a class all its own and to this day there are very few shows that compare to it. Trust me, it's a good call.

That's enough of the boring chit-chat though. Let's get started!

Our very first episode "Surprised to be Dead" opens on a crowded street. We see lots of traffic, people going about their business, and a pedestrian crossing sign that, crucially, turns red. This is our normality and, like in every genre story, you need to break that normality at some point so that the protagonists can go on their fantastical/supernatural/science fiction journey. YYH eases us into things by first breaking the normality of an everyday afternoon: there's a screech of tires, quick shots of a man pushing a child out of the way of an oncoming car, and then his back is hitting the windshield. We begin this story with a horrible — but otherwise mundane — car crash.

Now, these flashes alone have a fair bit to unpack. Despite later getting a brief shot of the man's scared face right before he's hit, the moment's focus is really on the child. He's the one foregrounded in the initial, slow-mo shot. He's the one who appears in color while the man is kept in shadow. This isn't just a hit, it's a rescue. The camera is also careful to follow the soccer ball this kid was playing with (more on that later in the episode), with it flying through the air as the man is hit and bouncing to a stop in the street, acting as the dramatic finish. It's childhood! It's innocence! It's play on a sunny afternoon! And it's all gone wrong.

This moment is chaotic and even a bit confusing. Not in the sense of what's happening — that is quite obviously a guy being hit by a car — but who the victims are, how precisely this came about, or even why we're meant to care about this beyond a generic capacity to feel for other human (fictional) beings... that's all removed. And it works. As the crash takes place, the camera pans across the stunned crowd and we, the viewer, become a part of that crowd. They don't know what precisely is going on either. We're all just horrified onlookers as a sudden tragedy takes place. We're all watching the same show.

So everyone realizes this guy has been hit. People are staring in shock and someone calls for an ambulance. We see the driver fall to his knees in the street, distraught, shakily saying, "I didn't mean to..." It's a very serious and emotional scene that —

— is immediately tempered by this guy waking up, complete with a cute 'pop!' sound effect when he opens his eyes.

This is YYH's brand, this Very Serious Circumstances skillfully interwoven with casual indifference/comedy. It's admittedly far from a unique brand, but it's an excellent choice given that this is the same attitude that will drive 99% of our protagonist's interaction with the world.

Speaking of said protagonist, our guy wakes up, opens his eyes, and realizes that he's floating. There's a great, disorientating shot from his perspective where everything is upside down, causing him to nearly fall out of the air. Well would you look at that, he's as confused as we are. It's our audience surrogate!

A narrator says, "And so it all begins. This boy's name is Yusuke, he's fourteen years old, and he's supposed to be the hero of this story. But oddly enough, he's dead."

Game of Thrones might have made it popular, but YYH did it better.

(Yeah, yeah, I know one death kick-starts the journey and the other is a shocking twist. Just let me have this.)

Now, it's a weird introduction, right? At least at the end. The announcement that change has occurred, a name, an age... that all checks out. But "supposed to be the hero"? What the hell is that “supposed to” mean? Our narrator gives us the easy, surface answer: "But oddly enough, he's dead." We're capitalizing here on the audience's expectation that death ends a character's journey and though they may have been a hero previously, they can no longer be one moving forward. That function within the story has passed. So it's this intriguing question of, "What kind of hero do you have when that hero is dead from the start?" but as we'll see soon, there's an additional meaning here of, "How can Yusuke be the hero?" As this premiere sets up, Yusuke doesn't act like the hero is “supposed to” act.

Until he saved this kid.

But right now he's just confused: "Okay, this is weird. Stupid weird."

Two EMTs arrive on the scene and are hilariously useless. You know how in any medical drama a doctor will stop CPR after a couple of seconds because obviously you're not going to spend half the episode on realism? Well, that's this only a thousand times worse. One guy just looks at the kid and announces he's fine except for some bumps and bruises. Meanwhile, the kid is sobbing.

"Well, at least one of them is," replies the other EMT, because I guess he can tell Yusuke is beyond hope without taking a pulse or anything? "I hate cleanup," he complains as they load his body onto a stretcher because that's? An empathetic response to have??

Honestly this scene is wild.

Yusuke is understandably upset that he's, you know, dead and all. He starts hounding the EMTs who, unable to hear him, just go about their business of taking the kid and his body to the hospital. "You think you can just do whatever you want because you have that stupid uniform on? You can't just write me off. Listen to me!" and Yusuke tries to punch one of the EMTs in the head, resulting in him floating right through.

What a great way to introduce your protagonist's personality. We see here that when things go wrong Yusuke's default emotion is anger and it starts creeping in even before he thinks the others are ignoring him: "Stupid weird." He has problems with authority — "You think you can just do whatever you want because you have that stupid uniform on?" — is used to others listening when he gets angry — "You can't just write me off!" — and is poised to use violence at the slightest provocation. Yusuke is a guy who, right now at least, is ready to punch first and ask questions later.

As Yusuke floats back up into the air and the ambulance drives away, he finally cools down enough to try and think his way out of this. "It's not like this is the first time you've been in a jam,” he thinks. Yusuke recalls that yeah, something was different about today...

...he actually went to school.

Catch me laughing that this idiot boy equates the weirdness of him dying with going to school. Good lord.

Anyway, this jumpstarts our flashback. We open on a generic, anime middle school (that always feels like a high school to me) where the principal is calling for Yusuke through the loud speaker. Oooo someone’s in trouble! We follow a young girl up to the rooftop and she gets a classic hair-blowing-in-the-wind moment to establish that she's our love interest. Meet Keiko Yukimura.

Keiko finds Yusuke hanging out and immediately starts lecturing him for trying to chew gum and refusing to wear the boys' uniform. "Oh, give me a break, Keiko. I look better in green." Note that it's here we learn her name and it's an easy, casual way to introduce it. I bring this up because Yusuke's introduction via our narrator is very much... not that. It's an on your nose statement about his name, age, and importance to the story, and if you're just starting the show in 2021, it might come across as a rather armature move. Like something out of a kid's show, perhaps. Yet here we see that this was a deliberate choice, considering that YYH is capable of introducing character information naturally when it wants to.

This moment also tells us that Yusuke cares a great deal about his image. More on that in a bit. Because Keiko isn't finished her list of grievances yet, going on to say that his attendance record has hurt their entire class, hurt her as class representative, and if he keeps going down this path he won't even graduate middle school. "Sometimes I think you don't care about anyone but yourself and then you don't even do that right!"

They're legit complaints. Too bad Yusuke is busy looking up Keiko's skirt.

Yeeeeah. Sadly, this is common for anime, particularly a 90s anime like YYH. Even presumably more progressive series like My Hero Academia feature characters like Mineta, whose entire personality is being a pervert, and the creation of abilities that "require" kids/young women to be scantily clad. See: Yaoyorozu. YYH is no different in this regard, with various forms of sexual harassment functioning as a shorthand for how much Yusuke secretly likes Keiko. "Boys will be boys," right? Obviously not.

Like so many others series, the creators get away with it because they’re framing it as a bad thing. It's totally fine because look, Keiko slaps him! This is teaching the viewer how wrong this behavior is. Never mind that this is clearly an established habit between them, that Yusuke laughs off Keiko's discomfort, and that the whole scene is meant to be funny for the viewer. That's the real purpose here; it’s not a PSA on harassment.

That, and to establish the long-suffering love Keiko has for Yusuke in turn, largely stemming from a life-long friendship. "Dumb boy! He hasn't grown up a bit since he was four years old." We see that Keiko's early interactions with Yusuke have given her insight that others lack. As she heads down from the roof she runs into two girls hiding around the corner, too scared to come out lest "the great Urameshi" set his sights on them. Isn't Keiko terrified of what he might do to her? "Or worse, what others might say of it?" Like any classic high school middle school setting, one's reputation is king. Yusuke cares about how others see him — maintaining that tough boy attitude — and the girls care more about what the rest of the school might think of Keiko's interactions with him than the presumed harm Yusuke could do to her. They heard he can summon 2,000 men with just a whistle and that he "kills for fun!" But that means nothing in the face of people talking about you. Despite being one of the most popular girls in school, Keiko is the outsider here via her disinterest in what other people think.

The animation changes here, giving us a good look at how the girls picture Yusuke: tough, scowling, surrounded by shadows, and backed by an entire army.

In contrast, we've already seen what Yusuke is really like.

Keiko laughs the image off too. Yusuke is more like a "lamb" than a killer and besides, he couldn't order around two people, let alone two hundred. "He doesn't have many friends."

"That's not what I heard," says one of the girls.

"Yeah," goes the other. "I think we would know."

Again, rumors rule here, with whispers in the hall considered more reliable than someone who interacts with Yusuke on a daily basis. Keiko doesn’t have a hope of changing their minds.

Oh, as a side note, I love that they gave Keiko Miyazaki-esque hair. It's very emotive.

Yusuke escapes outside where the principal is still calling for him to report to his office. He overhears a conversation around the corner and we cut to two boys, one of which is showing a wallet off to the other. He explains that some bully tried to rough him up, but he said he was Urameshi's cousin and the bully took off, dropping his wallet in the process. The guy's friend is impressed, but what is he going to do if Yusuke ever finds out he lied? Not to worry, he says, that "blockhead" would probably think it's true even if he did somehow hear.

Yusuke, obviously, does hear about this and he, also obviously, does not believe this guy is his cousin. He looms ominously and they scurry up against a wall, terrified and offering him the wallet as an apology.

"You think I want your money?" Yusuke yells.

YYH is, in many respects, a rather simple story, but I appreciate the hints of complexity in these otherwise straightforward interactions. It's not that this guy used Yusuke's name to steal a wallet, he used it as a form of protection against another bully — a far more sympathetic motivation. It's not that Yusuke's fearsome reputation has resulted in any genuine respect because once people think they're safe they reveal how little they think of his intelligence — he's a "blockhead." And Yusuke, though intimidating and violent, is not your average, schoolyard bully. He doesn't care about money, only the insult and the damage this guy using his name might have done to his reputation. There's a little more nuance here than you might otherwise expect.

Also, note how dark the boys' standard uniforms are and how much they blend into the rest of the world. Yusuke, as our protagonist, stands out in his bright clothing. He was right, he does look better in green!

So he's ready to clobber this kid when one of the teachers arrive: Mr. Iwamoto.

Iwamoto demands to know what's going on, but the boys are too terrified to rat Yusuke out. Noticing the wallet on the ground, he assumes that Yusuke was after their money, something that greatly offends him: "Whatever!" Iwamoto goes on to say that, "No good weeds like you should have been plucked a long time ago," making it clear that he considers Yusuke a hopeless case. The positive aspects that Keiko sees, as well as the complexity the viewer sees — to say nothing of his introduction of saving a kid — aren’t considered here.

Notably, Iwamoto exists in part to show us what Yusuke could become. Not a teacher (he's obviously not attending school enough for that!), but a cynical man who is cruel for cruelty's sake. Yusuke is already barreling down that path, ignoring Keiko's advice, terrorizing other students, trying to punch EMTs, etc. If his life (or afterlife...) hadn't changed through that accident, this is the kind of person Yusuke might have grown up to be, and we can see that clearly in the visual parallels between them. Dark haired men dressed in green who scowl with ease and toss out cutting insults. Yusuke is staring his future in the face.

For now he walks off with a final shot, "You shouldn't talk. It makes you sound stupid." This time Yusuke makes it to the school's entrance and tries to enjoy his second attempt at chewing gum, but someone hits him in the back of the head.

"Okay, somebody's DEAD — ah. Sorry, old man."

"That's Mr. Takenaka to you."

Our principal has finally left the office and hunted down Yusuke for himself! Putting this interaction immediately after the one with Iwamoto allows the viewer to compare them. Yusuke might be irreverent towards his principal, but it's clear there's still some kind of respect between them. Yusuke only starts threatening because he doesn’t realize who hit him and once he does realize it's Takenaka, he immediately apologizes. That "old man" comes across as a teasing insult and Yusuke allows himself to be briefly dragged back towards school, rather than throwing a now classic punch. In turn, Takenaka cares enough about Yusuke to try and keep him on the straight and narrow. He utilizes Yusuke's preferred language — violence — but in a casual way, nonthreatening way: slight hit to the back of his head, noogie, pulling him along by the ear.

It's the sort of physicality we're used to seeing in media between a parent and child who are outwardly antagonistic, but actually share a deep bond. Takenaka is also careful to frame their return to his office as a "discussion," not a punishment, and offers Yusuke tea along with the conversation. Whereas Iwamoto considers Yusuke to be a "weed" that should have been plucked from their school long ago, Takenaka is determined to help Yusuke bloom.

If we're continuing the flower metaphor :D

Yusuke isn't in the mood to play along though. He gets away by using a fake ear, startling Takenaka when it unexpectedly pulls free. Yusuke escapes the school grounds and Takenaka, suffering a back twinge from his fall, can't chase after him. Poor guy. I understand that pain lol.

Yusuke heads home where we're introduced to his mother, Atsuko. Most notable in her first shot is the soft lighting that highlights her looks. We're not told how old she is here, but I believe she's around 28 — and she looks it, if not younger. Given that Yusuke is 14, that means Atsuko was a mom at his age. This is a quick and subtle way to tell us about Yusuke's home life. There are more overt details in this scene — it's at least lunchtime and Atsuko hasn't left her bed yet, she demands that Yusuke make her coffee instead of greeting him, it's all meant to imply (before we actually see) that she's an alcoholic — but her age is another way to highlight the broken household here. There's no partner in sight and she clearly had Yusuke as a teenager. He hasn't had a strong parental figure to take care of him. If anything, Yusuke is taking care of Atsuko here.

"Oh great, mother of the year!" basically sums things up.

Atsuko wants to know why Yusuke isn't in school and he says that everyone is pissing him off today, particularly with their preaching. "Dear, if you hate preaching so much you should live on your own... but you can't do that, can you?" Alongside a rough upbringing, Yusuke is suffering from the common problem of being trapped in a dead-end life. He hates his school, his town, and coming home to find his mom hungover. Yusuke has no prospects and, outside of one principal, no one who is actively working to help him find some. Even the little things he hates, like being preached to, are unavoidable because if you want to live on your own, that requires money. Good luck pulling that off as a middle schooler whose only skill is street fighting!

Yusuke walks off in a huff, literally shouting in a street about what a bad day he's having (and hilariously scaring off pedestrians in the process). His shout brings trouble though. A couple guys appear to ambush him, their boss close behind. The music increases the tension, Yusuke's expression is serious, and we even get a Dutch angle thrown into the mix.

For any who don't know, the Dutch angle is a popular film technique to establish that something is wrong. There's tension in the scene, something uneasy is at play, and the world is now literally off center. It's perhaps most famously used in Do The Right Thing to establish the friction between an Italian-American pizzeria and the predominantly African American neighborhood it's based in.

But it's also used a great deal in horror as a way to say: yup, shit just got real. Scary real.

This Dutch angle introduces a character you may not appreciate at first, but absolutely should: Kazuma Kuwabara.

He's initially the comic relief and that's clear in his introduction. Within seconds we move from that intimidating arrival to, well, seeing him. To be clear, I've got nothing against redheads with big chins, but compared to Yusuke's design, Kuwabara is meant to be the funny looking one. His threat level plummets the moment we get a look at his face, especially in a series that will occasionally use looks as a (supposed) measure of intelligence.

Also, Kuwabara is dressed in light blue so, like Yusuke, we know he's important!

Any assumptions that his appearance isn’t meant to imply a goofy, embarrassing personality are put to rest when Kuwabara starts rambling about how they last time they fought Yusuke just got a cheap shot in and he'll definitely win this time. Yeah, he won't. Yusuke is thrilled by this diversion though and we get a shot of him looking almost as creepy as Keiko's friends think he is. Whatever else might be said about Yusuke, he is absolutely a monster in a fight.

Which we see here. If anyone picked up the series without knowing this was a fighting anime, they'll realize it now. Yusuke's choreography is stylized to show off his skill: he disappears with a 'whoosh' and dark lines to suggest inhuman speed,

attacking Kuwabara with a knee to the face, utilizes flying kicks, lands perfect, precision punches, and ends it all with the toe-tip landing we've come to expect of all powerful fighters. Kuwabara never even got a hit in.

Happy as a clam now, Yusuke wanders off whistling and Kuwabara's friends are left to pick up the pieces. AKA, his likely broken bones. I love that they're legit friends though and not just nameless goons for the sake of giving Kuwabara a small gang (though their names won't come up until later). "That makes 0 wins an 156 loses!" one of them cries, trying to get Kuwabara to stop ending up in the hospital, probably. We establish that Kuwabara is The Most Dramatic Ever when he pulls his broken body into a seated position, shouting, "No! I almost had him that time!"

Then he passes out.

Kuwabara, honey, you obviously did not almost have him, but god bless you for the outlook. The most optimistic thing on this Earth is a well-loved Golden Retriever, but Kuwabara comes in at a very close second.

With his dream to one day beat Yusuke in combat established, we cut to Yusuke wandering the street where the episode opened. "Okay, I'm remembering" he says in a voiceover. "After that I met the kid."

The soccer ball reappears as it rolls to a stop at Yusuke's feet. He grabs it and immediately starts yelling at the kid. Horrible protagonist, right? Well, Yusuke is trying to instill in him the danger of using this street as a playground, a worry the viewer already knows is 100% justified. “Listen, kid, that’s dangerous! There are cars going by that will splatter you into the pavement!” It's one of those quick moments where we get to enjoy Yusuke's duality: he's someone who is nearly making a toddler cry, but for rather understandable reasons. He's got the right idea, but needs to go about it in a more mature manner.

Which is precisely what he attempts to do. Sort of. Yusuke changes gears, though whether it's a more "mature" route is certainly up for debate lol. He tries entertaining the kid instead, raising and lowering the soccer ball to reveal goofy faces.

When these fail to impress, Yusuke goes full out by stuffing the ball into his pants, pushing his nose up with a pair of chopsticks he got from god knows where, and generally just putting on a display.

So Yusuke cares very deeply about his reputation... but only when it comes to those who are an established part of his life. Keiko, Mr. Takenaka, and the other kids at school all need to maintain a particular image of Yusuke, one that he's carefully cultivated. But random pedestrians on the street? Who cares about them? Let them talk.

This shows us that Yusuke does indeed have priorities over his own, selfish goals. Namely, the happiness of some kid is more important to him than looking "cool" for a bunch of strangers. Lots of characters with Yusuke's surface attitude would sneer at the idea of degrading themselves for — their words — some brat. But Yusuke, as we constantly see, actually does have that heart of gold. “Well, if all else fails I can still make kids happy.”

Although... I'm not sure what to make of his display itself. I have the distinct sense that there's something prejudiced here that I'm not able to fully articulate, what with the chopsticks, slanted eyes, bald head, and the like, though to be entirely frank I don't have enough knowledge of Japan's history to say precisely what it might be. Or, really, whether it exists at all. Just something to chew on.

What I am sure about though is the importance of having the child label Yusuke as monster — "Yeah, monster! — but in a delighted manner. Yusuke is indeed some kind a monster, someone who disappoints adults and terrifies his classmates, a demon fighter on the streets too, but here that identity is reworked into something positive.

Having successful secured a laugh, Yusuke tells the kid — calmly this time — to go play elsewhere. The toddler stares up at him with the blank expression only kids can manage.

Well, kids and whatever headspace I'm in after writing these metas.

To absolutely no one's surprise except Yusuke's, the kid does not go elsewhere. Instead, he continues kicking the ball down the street, causing Yusuke to exclaim, “Dammit, what’s the use? The kid can get smashed by a car for all I care!” Liar, liar.

The picture becomes desaturated as the kid kicks the ball and it flies into the street, time slowing down to show it landing precisely in the middle of the road. Yusuke again yells for him to stay put, but when has a toddler ever listened? He begins to walk into the road as our driver arrives, speeding, swerving, and paying more attention to the girl at his side than what's in front of him.

This time, we see the accident from the front with both Yusuke and the kid presented equally.

There's a cut to black and when we return we're in the present, Yusuke floating above the policemen now investigating the scene. “So that’s it? I’m roadkill?” As Yusuke realizes he's dead, specifically that he's a ghost, a voice goes,

"Bingo! Bingo! You win the prize!"

A woman has appeared who is quite obviously othered by the standards of the episode so far. Unlike the greens, blues, and browns of the series' modern clothes, she's dressed in hot pink kimono with blue hair to match. She's also, you know, floating on an oar.

“I didn’t expect you to figure it out so quickly," she says, referring to Yusuke's revelation that he's dead. Apparently, those who meet unexpected and/or violent ends tend to take some time coming to terms with their demise. It's a nice acknowledgment of Yusuke's intelligence in an interaction that's otherwise... not great for his self-esteem.

Meaning, this woman is about to drag him lol.

She introduces herself as Botan, pilot of the River Styx and guider of souls to the afterlife. You might also know her as the Grim Reaper.

(Hey, RWBY fans: I originally wrote that as Grimm Reaper 🤦‍♀️)

It's an claim Yusuke takes issue with because 1. Botan is too pretty to be the Grim Reaper and 2. If she was really some god of death she'd be taking this much more seriously, not laughing and saying, "Bingo!" For the audience this does two things. First, it acknowledges our own expectations and validates them. Yusuke's world isn't so far removed from our own that he takes Botan's looks and personality at face value, he also expected a skeleton with a scythe. So don't worry, all the weird stuff in this series is weird to our protagonist too. They'll be explanations. Or, even if there’s not, you’re not wrong for being surprised.

Second, it sets up the very common theme in YYH of undermining those common assumptions again and again and again. We've already seen it with Yusuke, wherein characters who look and act a certain way are, supposedly, destined to be that person and nothing more. Yusuke is meant to be just a "weed," a dumb, violent, angry loser who goes nowhere in life... but we already know he's more than that. Botan is supposed to be scary and serious, but she says nah, I want to be cute and bubbly instead. No character in YYH embodies who they're "supposed" to be when you look past those surface characterizations. They play the part of archetypes — and do keep certain parts of their expected personalities — but they're also far more well-rounded than that. Which yeah, is something most people expect from any story nowadays, but YYH is particularly adept at making you think you're watching Simple Show A only to turn around and surprise you with More Complex Show B.

It's great, trust me.

So Yusuke is pissed that Botan isn't adhering to those expectations, in the same way that he works hard to validate others expectations of him. He doesn't know how to deal with someone challenging his world view yet. Rather than angering Botan though, she just nods and says that this response makes sense for him. “Rather than being scared, or surprised, you yell a lot and tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about." Taking out a notebook, she quickly summarizes everything we learned in the flashback — minus Yusuke's complexities: he's fourteen, in middle school, is ill-tempered, violent, hates authority, and is a horrible student.

Typically, Yusuke responds by getting angry and trying to snatch the booklet out of her hands, only for Botan to pull it out of his reach, laughing. The tables have turned! Rather than being surrounded by people who cower at Yusuke's imposed authority, he now finds himself faced with someone who laughs at his transparent attempts to take control of the situation.

Calming down, Yusuke wants to know if the kid he saved is really alright and Botan offers to let him see for himself. That offer produces Yusuke's first, genuine smile.

They fly to the hospital where a doctor is in the process of giving the kid a clean bill of health, his mother crying with relief.

That's enough for Yusuke. “Alright, Botan, I’ve got no regrets, so you can take me to hell or wherever it is I’m going.”

That tells you all you need to know about Yusuke's self-worth, despite his bad boy attitude. His life is a dead-end as far as he can see and most of those around him haven't done anything to dissuade him of that idea. He says he doesn't care if the kid lives or dies, but then instinctively saves him. Post his death, Yusuke doesn't have anything he considers a regret, or anything he'd like to do before he leaves, like saying goodbye to a loved one. Oh, he's also pretty sure he's going to hell and has resigned himself to that without a fight.

Uplifting!

Botan just laughs though, saying that she's actually here to offer Yusuke an "ordeal" that could bring him back to life. See, he wasn't supposed to die today — let alone die saving a kid — and frankly they don't know what to do with him. It's another neat summary of what we've already learned: Yusuke is a far more complicated case than the afterlife assumed and now, when push comes to shove, deciding whether he belongs in heaven or hell is... muddled.

There's a fantastic story there about the problems with an afterlife that reduces a person's entire life to a few surface characteristics recorded in a book, refusing to acknowledge the context of their situation, or their capacity for change. “Run someone with your credentials a thousand times and they never would have saved a kid like that." Except, of course, Yusuke did save him, so those "credentials" are suspect, to say the least. However, YYH is not a story that explores these issues. Instead, I recommend you watch this!

Rather than being upset at the afterlife's low opinion of him (because let's be real, Yusuke shares it), he latches onto a little detail Botan let slip. If he wasn't supposed to die today... then was the kid?

Mmm... no. Actually, without the chaos of Yusuke jumping into the road, the driver would have swerved at the last second and the kid would have not only lived, but actually come out with one less scrape.

So Yusuke is obviously upset by this news! I would be too!! Holy shit, hang onto the "it's the thought that counts" message with everything you've got.

Also, don't think too much about the fact that the afterlife apparently knows exactly what will happen to people, down to how many cuts they accumulate in an accident. Also, don't think too much about where the afterlife foreseeing the crash begins and the unexpectedness of Yusuke interfering ends. That way lies madness. This will never come up again, so just let it go.

Sorry, 2013 me hijacked the post for a second.

As said, Yusuke is understandably upset by this revelation and as he fumes I'm reminded that this series likes to pull some amazing expressions.

Botan reiterates that it's all fine because Yusuke can come back to life. Weren't you listening? He should feel honored, in fact, considering that an offer like this only arrives every 100 years or so. Well, that explains why all of humanity isn't grappling with people coming back to life on the daily. One person every generation isn't going to cause much of a stir.

However, instead of jumping at the chance Yusuke announces that Botan is just like the teachers at school: she doesn't know what she's talking about. “You said yourself my life was kind of pathetic, right?” he says, going on to explain that everyone will be happier now that he's dead. His school won't have to deal with his behavior, Keiko won't have to nag him, and his mom will be able to party whenever she wants. It's a win-win for everyone involved.

Hmm, this feels familiar.

Don't worry, Yusuke doesn't need to experience a whole alternate reality to get the message.

“I’m sorry you feel that way at such an early age," Botan says and she is sorry, because despite her teasing nature that's a legitimately horrifying thing to believe. Yusuke won't budge though and after a little back-and-forth Botan leaves, telling Yusuke he should think it over while visiting his wake. She'll come back once he decides what to do.

“Do you have worms in your ears, lady? I did decide!” but Botan is long gone.

We cut to that night where Yusuke has indeed decided to attend his own wake. Maybe because of Botan's advice, maybe because he's just morbidly curious. We’re not given insight into the decision.

Atsuko is a mess, to put it mildly, not dressed for the occasion and sitting slumped against the way, staring vacantly as the guests offer their condolences. Yusuke is surprised by the fact that his entire class is here, but quickly writes them off when he sees two of the boys laughing. I'm on the fence about this detail, which I'll unpack in just a second.

First though, Yusuke sees Keiko exiting the house, inconsolable in her grief. She collapses on the ground with her two friends trying to offer comfort, despite the fact that they had nothing good to say about Yusuke himself. Good on them.

Before he can think too long on this though, Yusuke is distracted by Kuwabara's arrival. Unlike Keiko's crying, he expresses his grief through yelling. Specifically, yelling at Yusuke. For dying. For daring to "run away." His own friends are physically holding him back as he charges into the wake, screaming, “Who am I gonna fight now, huh? Who am I gonna fight?" It's not really about the fighting, of course. At least, not the fighting alone. "You’re supposed to be here for me," Kuwabara finishes, the punch he's thrown at Yusuke's photo going limp and catching his first tear.

You know, for all the goofy expressions, this show really is gorgeous. Just wait until we get to the fight animations.

Kuwabara's reaction is why I hesitate to write off the classmates like Yusuke has. Granted, we have no reason to believe that they care for him as Kuwabara does — they're nameless background characters defined only by their terror of "the great Urameshi" — but it's still a split second taken out of context. We don't know what they were laughing at, or if laughing is a part of their grief. God knows I personally laugh at the most inappropriate moments. If you tell me someone has just died there is a very good chance I will laugh awkwardly as I try to process that. It’s just a reflex. All of which I bring up not because these side characters are important, but because Yusuke's perception of his own worth is. The point of each of these moments is to show that those around him have always cared for him, even if Yusuke didn't notice. It's nice to think that extends to his classmates too. The variety likewise exists to show us how people grieve differently, with Kuwabara's friends not understanding that this is how he's working through the trauma: “This place is for mourning!” He is mourning, even if his way of mourning isn't as socially acceptable as Keiko's. So if screaming and throwing punches is valid, crying is valid, staring stoically in a drunk stupor is valid... why not laughter too?

Not likely, perhaps, but possible.

As an additional possibility to chew on, watching this premier again, it struck me how more emotional Kuwabara's scene is compared to Keiko's. Don't get me wrong, crying and calling Yusuke’s name gets the point across, but it's two seconds of generic grief compared to a much longer scene rife with intensity. When Kuwabara arrives the music swells and everyone is forced to pay attention to him. His grief is loud, violent, and given symbolism with his fist and the photo. There's more effort put into his reaction, frankly, so it wouldn't surprise me if fans started shipping them after this. That grief combined with an "enemies to lovers" possibility is a pretty potent mix. To be clear, Yusuke/Keiko is the (oh so obvious) canonical endgame and in the fandom Yusuke/Kuwabara can't compare to another slash ship that will turn up later, but this is a good example of how writers can craft some Very Gay Scenes without realizing it. When you have the girl crying prettily for a second and the guy absolutely losing his mind over Yusuke's death, questioning his purpose now, his support network, and then collapsing in grief... don't be surprised if your audience goes, "Oh hey, maybe they'd be a good couple instead."

But I digress.

The only people who are unquestioningly happy about Yusuke's passing are Mr. Iwamoto and his co-conspirator, Mr. Akashi. You know Akashi is another bad guy because he has bucked teeth and "ugliness" is an easy way to code for evilness. YYH is not immune to those mistakes :/

These two are really something else though, standing in the middle of a wake and claiming it's “too bad that car wasn’t big enough for them too," referring to Kuwabara and his friends. Wow! What stellar members of the academic community. Iwamoto goes on to say that Yusuke dying at least accomplished something good. Not, mind you, saving the life of a child, but rather looking good for their school's reputation. Akashi agrees, but says it's likely Yusuke only accidentally saved him while trying to steal the kid's lunch money. Remember, that accusation of theft is the one thing Yusuke has said outright that he does not do.

He's pissed listening to all this — wouldn't you be? — but knows by now he can't do anything about it. In another fantastic shot, Yusuke hovers his hand over Iwamoto's shoulder, desperate to grab him, when Takenaka's arrives there instead.

“What do you suppose is more disgraceful? That boy showing his misery, or your insensitive and idiotic words!”

HELL YEAH. You tell 'em, Mr. Takenaka.

Yusuke gets his third shock of the night at this passionate defense. Takenaka leaves the teachers to go pay his respects, but admits to Yusuke's picture that he just can't speak well of him. He was surprised to hear that Yusuke gave up his life for another and it's a fact that he acted selfishly. Though he doesn't say it in as many words, Takenaka explains that he's not grieving because Yusuke was a good person, but because it's so clear to him that he might have been. “Why didn’t you stay? You could have made something great out of yourself.”

Normally, "Why didn't you stay?" is just something for the living to grapple with, as the dead obviously don't have any say in what happens to them. But Yusuke does. It's here that the lighting grows soft again and Yusuke considers Takenaka's words. Keiko and Kuwabara grieve for who he was, but Takenaka grieves for who Yusuke could have been — someone that might still exist if Yusuke decides to undergo this ordeal.

Atsuko adds fuel to the emotional fire, breaking down and hiding her face in her knees.

Finally, the kid Yusuke saved arrives with his mother. Because yes, Yusuke saved him in every way that matters, considering no one else knows — or will know — that he'd have lived anyway. I like that the show doesn't allow that knowledge to undermine the emotion of their arrival, or what Yusuke’s act meant to them.

The mom tells her son to pay his respects and the kid thanks Yusuke for saving him, and for "making faces." He clearly doesn't get what's going on here. This is confirmed as the two leave and he asks his mom if he can play with Yusuke again tomorrow. “I know some people sounded angry at him, but he’s really nice!"

They're probably just crying because they want to play with him too, he thinks, which just makes his mom join in. Everyone is crying in this club tonight.

Those words are the cincher for Yusuke and with a brief montage of all the grief he's witnessed, he makes his decision.

We cut to later that night where Yusuke floats above the city, admiring the moon. Botan reappears and he asks, “Have you ever not known about something that seemed obvious to everyone else?” Yes, everyone has experienced that at one point or another. She asks if he's made his decision and Yusuke agrees to try and come back to life.

Emotional revelations out of the way, we're allowed another tone shift as Botan yells with joy, speeding off and causing Yusuke to grab hold of the end of her oar, lest he be left behind. Cranky as always, he demands to know where they're going. "To the spirit world, of course!" They're off to see someone who can explain the ordeal and give Yusuke the tool needed to complete it. Just hang on and enjoy the ride.

Thus ends our very first episode! Ah, the nostalgia. This is part one of a four arc series, with the anime cutting out a lot of the filler stories found at the start of the manga — a smart decision, I think. They primarily do the work of teaching Yusuke what he learned at the wake, so if you can accomplish that as quickly as the adaptation did, all the better. Especially since Yusuke needs to grow a great deal beyond the basic understanding that people might, sort of care for him, and that work will occur primarily through a job he's going to take on. The series isn't really about his death and it's not about an attempt to come back either — it's about what happens once you get that second chance. So this is the setup, but it's important setup all the same.

No need to skip ahead though. I've blathered enough for one recap. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you when the writing gods next bless me with energy! 💜

#YYH #Yu Yu Hakusho #YYH recaps #mymetas

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