#I need to get my tagging system under control

[sillynarcissist]

we all have that one homie we can't stand talking to but the detriments of ignoring them are worse than the annoyances of being their friend

[spencerreidenjoyer]

stress relief | spencer reid x reader

wc: 3k, rating: explicit/18+

warning/tags: established relationship, face fucking, blowjobs, vaginal sex, submissive!spencer, whiny!spencer, insecure!spencer (just a little, more like awkward lol), confident (and insanely horny) fem!reader

a/n: i'm back with more pwp!! surprise!!! i have no excuse. i wrote this in about 2 days. i needed to get it out of my system i think this spencer (s3-4) is crazy and perfect and i need him. also thank you for 100 followers on this little reid blog of mine! i hope to keep writing more on here <3

(p.s: you can find this fic on ao3!)

When you get on your knees between Spencer’s legs, looking up at him with wide eyes that spell sin, Spencer knows he’s in for a wild ride.

“You’ve been working too hard, Spence,” you say, shaking your head, speaking like you’re talking about the weather and not like you have a hand on his crotch, steadily stiffening under your touch.

You watch Spencer’s throat bob as he gulps. He blinks quickly, once, twice. “Yeah? You think so?”

“I know so,” you hum, fingers already toying with the button of his work slacks. Spencer had gotten home late from work tonight, but was still fretting over the stacks of reports on his desk in his home office in the apartment you share. After dinner, you’d convinced him to lounge on the couch for a bit, instead of getting back to work – leading you to where you are right now. “I think you need to relieve some of your stress.”

Almost like he’s nervous, his tongue darts out to lick his lips. “What are you thinking?”

“Orgasms release endorphins which contribute to stress relief, no?” You parrot the fun fact Spencer’s told you countless times, a small smirk on your face. As if your hand gently palming his cock hasn’t made your intentions more than obvious.

His eyebrows raise. “Oh. Yeah. Okay.”

“Wow, you could at least sound a little more enthusiastic about your girlfriend giving you head.” You deadpan, but you pop the button of his slacks anyway.

Spencer squeaks. “Sorry. I– I really want you to blow me.”

“I know, darling,” you coo, pulling down the zipper of his fly slowly, feeling the hardness of his cock pressed against it. His underwear is a bright pink when it gets exposed. You chuckle to yourself. “Cute."

Spencer flusters, laughing nervously. “Oh my God. I kind of forgot I was wearing those. Haha. Sorry."

“Baby,” you frown slightly. You’re not mad, not in the slightest, just amused with how he’s acting. You place your hands on his thighs, pausing with any of the action. “Why are you sorry? I think you’re so cute, you know.”

“My head isn’t on straight right now,” Spencer sighs, shaking his head. “I just want– Like, it’s going to be good for me, obviously, because you’re so good at this. I don’t need to want anything. I just– Want this to be good for you too.”

“It’ll be good for me if you stop overthinking it, Spence.” You smile. “It’s chill. Also, when do I not enjoy sucking your cock?”

Spencer covers his face with his hand, but you see him smile, laughing to himself. “You’re so crude, y’know? But I suppose you do really enjoy sucking me off.”

“I know.” You chirp. “And I do."

Your hand is down Spencer’s pants before he can even tell you to go ahead, but he knows that you know he wants it. Spencer hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, taking them off. His cock jumps up and you watch, fascinated with the obscenity of it all. Spencer’s cock curves up towards his stomach, reddening at the tip already.

You wrap your hand around his hardening cock, as you start to jerk him off. He lets out a high-pitched whimper, like he can’t control himself, and he cups a hand over his mouth. His eyes are wide as he stares down at you. You giggle, “It’s cute.”

“It’s kind of embarrassing,” Spencer says, his face a little red already.

You pout. “Come on, Spence. It’s really hot.”

His hand falls from his face to his lap, coming up to cup your cheek gently. “You like it?”

“You’re so sexy.” You nod. “Of course I like it. Now, make those noises for me again, pretty boy.”

Spencer squeaks as you tighten your grip around his cock, eyes fluttering shut as you stroke him. You work him up to full hardness – not that it takes very long for him to get there. You flick your thumb over the head of Spencer’s cock, tease into his slit where he’s steadily leaking already. His precome makes everything slick and sticky, easing the slide of your fist over his length.

Your eyes flit between Spencer’s face and his cock, marvelling at the growing mess in your hand and how his face is slowly but surely revealing his pleasure. He’s flushed, lower lip pulled in between his teeth, as you watch his chest rise and fall. His gaze pierces you, the intensity of how he looks sending shivers down your spine.

Knowing Spencer’s looking down at you, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, pressing it flat against the tip of his cock. Spencer lets out a strangled breath, eyes bugging out at the erotic sight of you between his legs. You wrap your lips around him, suckling gently on the head of his cock. You hope to make Spencer lose his mind like this. With the way he’s breathing heavily, lips parted as he takes in all of you, you think it’s working.

His whines are more frequent, accenting his hard breaths. You see how Spencer doesn’t know what to do with his hands, watch as he digs his nails into the flesh of his palms, and you instead hold him by his wrists to put his hands in your hair. The weight is comforting, and encourages you to sink down on his cock more. You take more than half of him into your mouth, but Spencer being… well-endowed meant that you often never were able to fit all of him in, unless you were in a particular mood.

The tip of Spencer’s cock hits the back of your throat, once it’s slid in. You gag at the intrusion, and Spencer lifts you off of him, slightly freaked out. “Are- Are you okay?”

“Baby, please,” you sigh, endeared but annoyed at the fact that he’s getting in the way of his own pleasure. “Trust me with this. Just focus on feeling good?”

Spencer’s brows furrow slightly, lips drawn into a little pout, but you nod to soothe his concerns. “Spencer, I want you to use me–” You stick your tongue out to lick at his length again, making him shudder. “–Just like this.”

“You want– You want me to…?” Spencer trails off, unsure if he’s picking up what you’re putting down.

“Fuck my face, Spencer,” you say bluntly, tired of flirting in circles. It’s fun flirting with Spencer, because it’s fun to fluster him when he isn’t expecting it, but right now, when he isn’t getting the hint, you need to lay it all out for him. “Use my mouth like a fleshlight. Whatever you want to do. Please.”

He inhales sharply, stunned at your explicitness. He pushes his hair back, out of his face, taking the time to process… everything. His gaze is tender, though, as he gently cups your cheek. “Okay. Yeah. I can do that. But if you don’t want it anymore, you– You have to let me know, okay?”

You smile up at him, pleased that he’s finally letting some of his inhibitions go, even if he still seems hesitant. You pat the side of his thigh thrice. “I’ll do that if it’s too much.”

“I love you.” Spencer says softly.

“I love you too, Spence.” You hum. “Now hurry up and fuck my face.”

“Jesus, you’re so crude,” Spencer laughs. He leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. Pulling back, he guides his cock to your mouth, the head of his cock pressing against the plush of your lips. His mouth is open when he looks at you like this. He whispers, “Fuck.”

You open your mouth to take him in, like you were before, sinking down inch by inch, until he’s comfortably settled in the back of your throat. Spencer doesn’t move to fuck your face yet, so you make the first move. You bob your head up and down on his length, making sure your mouth is wet and slick as you suck him off. He lets out a moan, hand fisted in your hair.

And here’s where it starts: You slow on his cock, and Spencer, finally taking what he wants, pushes your head down onto his cock for more. You gag slightly. Spencer pulls your head back up, pushes you back down. While you appreciate how much he cares about you, him putting his pleasure first in using you like this makes your toes curl.

Spencer’s cock in the back of your throat is not uncomfortable, not yet, but Spencer steels himself to fuck your mouth and you find your veins thrumming with adrenaline. Spencer’s first thrust is exploratory, cautious. He’s nervous, or it at least feels like it when he fucks into your mouth. You would tell him off, but your mouth is kind of occupied right now. Instead, you glance up at him, and hope that your gaze tells him to just fuck me.

One arm against the backrest of the couch, Spencer thrusts into your mouth again. He gasps. Chasing his own pleasure, his eyes flutter shut as he fucks your mouth. His thrusts are shallow, desperate, hurried, but his mouth falls open in stuttered, eager moans. He’s so gorgeous.

You’ve never heard anything so perfect, the way Spencer moans, the way he cries out your name. You press your legs together to stave off the arousal building between them. You feel like a mess, Spencer’s hand making a mess of your hair, Spencer’s cock making a mess of your mouth. You think spit is probably all over your chin right now, but he’d probably think you still look great anyway.

Spencer gasps, out of breath as he whimpers, “I’m– I’m close, I can’t–”

He fucks into your mouth once, twice more, before slumping back down onto the couch. There’s a slick, wet ‘pop’ as you pull off of Spencer, pouting slightly. “You know I’m happy to swallow, Spence.”

Spencer laughs, tired, and explains, “I know you do, dear. I just don’t think I have it in me to come more than once. And I really want to come inside of you.”

His words make you blush. Spencer doesn’t get too explicit too often, so hearing him say dirty things always turns you on. You reach up to wipe yourself clean, but Spencer’s already ahead of you with a tissue pressed to your face, gentle as he wipes your mouth and chin.

After cleaning you up, he helps you up off your knees and onto the couch. You’re both still clothed, sure, but Spencer’s boxers and pants have been pushed down to reveal his cock; you must be even more of a mess, hair rustled and face messy, and the desperation that makes itself clear at the sight of the both of you makes you giggle.

Spencer smiles at you. “What are you laughing about?”

“We must look insane right now,” you laugh. “We’re not even naked yet and we’re like this.”

“Well, I think you look beautiful,” Spencer says earnestly in a quiet voice, his hand tucking your hair behind your ear. Spencer’s touch is gentle, it always is, and especially in stark contrast to the way he’d fucked your face, just like you told him to. “My lovely girl.”

“Spence,” you purr, nuzzling into his hand as he cradles your face. “Love you.”

“I love you too.” Spencer’s answer is immediate, certain, and it makes you acutely aware of how turned on you are.

“I love you so much, and I really need you to fuck me right now.” You look up at him, watch as his face warms from serious to amused. You shift away from him slightly on the couch, but use the extra space to spread your legs. “Use this pussy, baby.”

Now, he presses his finger to his temple, shaking his head playfully. “Your mouth is filthy. You’re filthy.”

You grin. “Aww, Spence, at least tell me you like it!”

He leans forward to kiss you, hard and eager and desperate. You moan into the kiss, as his hand is pressed into the small of your back. You run your hand through his hair, where it’s starting to curl past the nape of his neck. When he pulls away, he says, looking deep into your eyes: “I like you. And your filthy mouth. Now let me fuck you.”

You giggle, wildly turned on as his long, deft fingers push your shorts and panties off. He kisses along your neck as he does so, then lays you back on the couch, and his thumb rubs circles into your inner thigh softly as he regards you, admires you. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

“You are too,” you say, awed, as Spencer takes off his nerdy little button-up. His body is perfect – not skin-and-bones skinny, but there’s a healthy litheness to him that you appreciate, especially when you’re grabbing at him while he fucks you. “Want you right now.”

“I know,” Spencer hums soothingly, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Come on, love.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watch, slack-jawed, as he wraps a hand around himself. His eyes flutter shut as he strokes himself, but he quickly snaps himself back to reality: guiding his cock in between your legs. He presses the tip to your clit, messy and glistening with your slick, and rubs against you in circles. You moan, feeling a little pathetic as you rut your hips forward to find any more pleasure like this.

Now, he presses the head of his cock to your hole, teasing, pushing it in slightly before it slips back out and spreads more of your slick across the rest of your cunt. You whine, pouting up at Spencer. He coos at you, “Okay, okay.”

Finally, he’s settled against your hole, the blunt head of his cock pressing into you excruciatingly slowly. It’s exhilarating, feeling him feed his cock into your hole, feeling him stretch you open, feeling like you were made for each other. He holds your leg up so he can press up closer to you, feeling so full as he puts his cock inside of you.

“Spencer,” you moan when he stops moving. “Fuck me. Just like earlier.”

”Okay, love.” Spencer nods, trails his hand down your waist and hips, down your thighs. “My gorgeous girl.”

Spencer thrusts into you, the first one sending electric pleasure through your body. He always loves to do it like this, make love to you slowly, intensely rocking into you until you feel all his love. You always do, but you don’t want that tonight. He knows that’s not what you want tonight.

When Spencer starts fucking you, his hips have gained a steady rhythm, your skin slapping together obscenely. It’s so wet between you two, where he’s pressed inside you. He fucks you hard and fast, eyebrows furrowed as he chases his own high. He’s so fucking cute, even while naked and trying his best to make you feel just as good as he does. He’s panting and groaning, your own moans mixing in with his. He knows you want him like this, hard and fast and messy.

You can’t form a coherent sentence, only able to babble and cry out for Spencer, for more, and you cling onto his arms as he pounds into you. You’ve never felt Spencer like this before. Sure, he’s always eager to please, doing whatever makes you feel good, but him going so hard, just like this, just the way you want makes you feel so needy, the both of you feeding off of each other’s desperation. All you can focus on is Spencer’s skin touching yours, the in-out slide of his cock, the slapping of skin on skin, the wet, slick noises of his cock fucking in and out of you.

“Cumming, Spence, I’m cumming,” You cry out needily, desperately, and you moan when he presses his thumb to your clit. He flicks at your clit in rough, hurried little circles. The pressure is cruel but just what you need for your release, and your whole body shakes as you orgasm. The high is so good, a different type of pleasure coursing through your veins.

You clench around Spencer, your cunt like a vice grip on him. Moaning loudly, his hips are stuttering as he comes inside of you too. He fucks out whatever momentum’s left in him, but pulls out quickly and gently, because he knows how fast you get overstimulated afterward.

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth, then presses his lips to yours. The kiss is soft, sweet, tame, unlike the depravity you were engaged in before, and the juxtaposition makes your head spin. Spencer, who is usually such a sweet, soft guy, being able to fuck you so hard and fast until the couch was creaking underneath you. You suppose that’s what he’s capable of when you ask. You like it. You wonder what else you can ask him to do. You think he’d do it in a heartbeat, knowing him.

“That was amazing,” you giggle breathlessly. “Spence, you’re a madman.”

”For you, my dear,” Spencer smiles. “Anything for you.”

You snuggle into his side, resting your head on his chest as you lay on the couch. You’re both sticky and gross, but you’re sure Spencer will be more than happy to clean up later. Right now, you’re just pleased to be cuddling your boyfriend.

”So, do you feel less stressed out about work now?” You ask, after a moment of comfortable silence.

”Well, I certainly wasn’t thinking about work,” Spencer laughs. “You know, some sociologists believe stress can be caused by positive events too? I think you cause me stress, but it’s good stress.”

”Watch your mouth, genius,” you snark playfully. “You’re lucky you’re cute enough that I’d take being called a stressor a compliment.”

“I love you,” Spencer sing-songs.

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the stupid grin that forms on your face. “Yeah, yeah.”

[xclowniex]

I got this comment on one of my other posts where I talk about how antizionists who claim they want to deradicalize zionists fail to do so and with their current approach are far more likely to "radicalize" jews.

Whilst this type of set up for a post usually leads into something negative, the comment isn't and I agree with it, I just wanna turn the idea I had of a response into its own post lol

On its own, it is not a radical idea, however it is radical in the sense of it forces a lot of western leftists to either reevaluate their ideas surronding colonialism, indigenousness, peace and justice, or ignore any opportunities of reflection and be bigoted. And obviously one is a lot easier than the other.

Jews and Palestinians don't fall into the classic colonizers vs. colonized categories as well, our history is different than in the west. Palestinians were not originally arab and were arabinzed through consensual and non-consensual means, and jews have been forcibly removed from the region from multiple groups. It does not play into the dichotomy of "white people came to the land, were violent and gained control and oppressed the native population" which is the overly simplified version of what has happened in the majority of western countries.

In the west, to achieve true peace and justice, you have to hand over control either fully or in part to indigenous folk. But because jews and Palestinians don't fall into western understanding of colonization, peace and justice doesn't look like that. It looks like coexistence with both groups holding power and self determination simultaneously.

Then you have the western view of race also in play. Jews don't fall into the western view of race and ethnicity. Because of multiple exoduses, jews come in a wide range of colors. We aren't just white or brown. Jew as an ethnicity comes from the middle east and is not a European ethnicity. Then wherever jews ended up after being forced out of the land complicates things. If they ended up in Africa, you get black jews like those from Beta Israel (in Ethiopia), if they ended up in other parts of the middle east you get Mizrahi jews (some people consider jews from beta Israel also Mizrahi and some don't, as I am not from beta Israel it is not a conversation I need to be a part of). You also have Sephardic jews, and ofc Ashkenazi jews. You have jews from all parts of Asia. Then you have mixed race/interfaith relationships too, which is how you get black folk in the US who are Ashkenazi jewish or Māori who are Ashkenazi like Taika Waititi.

And the whole forcing western ideals surrounding race, history, etc, onto non western countries, is problematic.

Whilst I'm definitely not the first to call it this in this sense, it is western leftism. It may even fall under white leftism.

And to those in which their belief system is entrenched in western and/or white leftism, the idea that jews don't fall into it, is radical to them.

(Tagging the person who made the addition is screenshotted as I feel weird if I don't @boreal-sea

[dyaz-stories]

how long will I slide? || Eun Hyuk x Reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings & tags: angst, big spoilers for s1 of sweet home, that should be it?

A/N: Written for day one of @neohumanmonster's fandom event, Turning a New Leaf. Prompt: The Other Side. He's the one I had an idea for for that theme, but I actually haven't watched s1 of Sweet Home in a couple of years, so I hope this feels in character for Eun Hyuk, and that it's not too incoherent for the setting of s1!

Eun Hyuk has eyes everywhere in the Green House apartment building — as much as he possibly can, at least. He’s used to studying efficiently,to taking as much information from a page as possible in a single glance. He’d never thought his abilities would be used in that way. That he’d end up sitting in front of footage coming from surveillance cameras, making sure not to let anything go unnoticed, because that would be the best way for him to be helpful to the people around him.

Oh, he doesn’t just do that. He’s taken up most of the tasks that require organization, wouldn’t trust others with it, if he’s being honest, but this is where he spends the bulk of his days. In front of a screen. Staring. His books forgotten and gathering dust in a corner of the room.

He doesn’t get distracted. If his eyes linger when you appear in front of ones of the cameras, it’s just because you’ve been vocal about thinking that other solutions were needed, and he doesn’t want you to endanger everyone by trying to put one of them in action. That’s all there is to it. He doesn’t have time for anything else anyway.

So when one of his screens flickers, he notices immediately. His mind starts running through the possibilities as he leans toward it, all of them bad. Any kind of system failure would be disastrous. Loss of electricity would be close to a death sentence. A camera being destroyed could mean that the monsters are getting better at finding them, smarter, which would mean they’re evolving.

And the last possibility, that he’s having a hallucination because his monsterization symptoms are progressing…

Well, he coldly evaluates, it would depend. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad, if the residents could evacuate before he loses control completely.

When the screen lights back on, and he’s met with his own eerily smiling face and eyes gone completely black, he’s almost relieved.

Good, he thinks. I’ll be able to help as long as the cameras work.

“Will you?” his other self asks as it spreads to the other screens like a virus, voice coming out like a screech through the speakers. “Are you sure you’re helping them?”

He supposes it shouldn’t surprise him that the monster knows how to get under his skin, and yet he sits straighter at the question.

“Of course I am. Without me—”

“Maybe if they’d run when they wanted to, most of them would be safe right now,” the monster says, admitting out loud a fear that’s been eating at Eun Hyuk since the very start of this forced confinement. “Maybe you’re killing them by making them stay here. And really…” It laughs, high-pitched and maniacal. “Using that kid when you’d never have the guts to step out there by yourself?”

“I would,” Eun Hyuk protests, even if he’s aware that there is no actual argument happening here. “But I’m not the same kind of infected person as him. And I’m doing my part here. It’s not like…”

“Like you’re sending a kid out to be tortured only so he can be ostracized here? Sure looks like it.”

“It’s not,” Eun Hyuk repeats, weaker this time.

The monster opens its mouth to speak once more, when there is a soft knock on the door.

“Eun Hyuk?”

It’s you, and the monster’s face lights up as Eun Hyuk’s heart rate picks up.

Out of fear, surely. He doesn’t want you to know about his issues.

“Well how about that?” The monster practically purrs. “The thing you won’t let yourself have. Won’t even admit how badly you want—”

Eun Hyuk’s not really thinking when he picks up one of his notebooks to throw it at the screen. It bounces without any effect, of course, and the monsters starts laughing once more, until that’s all Eun Hyuk can hear, while it gets louder and louder and louder and—

The door opens behind him.

“You weren’t answering—”

“Don’t—”

You freeze in the entrance.

“Don’t what?”

He knows before turning around. Of course he does. Rational, human him is deeply aware that there is no way for you to see the things that his mind is creating.

“…come in before I tell you it’s okay,” he finishes with an even voice. “If you see something you shouldn’t, I don’t want to have to deal with everyone else’s panic.”

You click your tongue at him, and he immediately hates himself for saying it. He doesn’t even mean it. You clearly have everyone’s best interests at heart, even if you believe in a very different way of handling people than he does.

“Well, I just noticed you hadn’t eaten your share yesterday,” you say, and it stings that your tone is biting, particularly when he knows how soft-spoken you can be with others. “I was bringing you something to eat.”

“You should let someone else—”

“You can’t let yourself go weak,” you reply, pushing the food in his hands and folding your arms over your chest. “You know how much people rely on you here. We may not see eye to eye, but the last thing they need is to start worrying about you and thinking you’re not able to lead them anymore.” There’s a second of silence before you add, almost as if you can’t help yourself “Also, you know I already think these rations are too small. You really shouldn’t go a day without eating at least that.”

 He glances down at what you brought. True, it’s meager, and yet he feels a smile forming as he looks at it, at the acknowledgement that you were worried about him, even if you didn’t phrase it that way.

“Thank you,” he says.

And just like that, you soften. There’s part of him that finds it ridiculous, how you’ve given him a million second chances, how he’s let you down every time, and how you keep affording them to him still. The other one is so, so infinitely thankful for your kindness.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

He sighs.

“As okay as I can be,” he answers, pushing his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. “I don’t think anyone is doing good.”

You nod gravely, then brush your hands over your jeans.

“Alright. Well then, I’ll leave you to—”

His hand shoots out to grab your wrist before he can hold it back and before you get too far away. You turn around to look at him, surprised and a little confused.

“Can you— would you mind eating with me?”

He could justify himself. Tell you he doesn’t like eating alone, even if he’s been doing it since his parents died, tell you he needs another set of eyes on the screen while he’s eating, tell you he needs to talk to you about one of the residents. He doesn’t, though. You read him a little too well, could probably tell that he’s lying. And he hopes that, with that big heart of yours, you’ll just…

“Sure,” you answer.

You grab a chair, pull it so you can sit facing him. As you sit down, your knees brush against his. The gesture feels surprisingly comfortable, in a way that he hopes doesn’t bring too much color to his cheeks.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“It gets lonely in here,” he answers, which technically isn’t a lie.

There’s a wrinkle on your forehead as you study him, one that forms whenever you’re concerned.

He’s more used to seeing the one between your eyebrows directed at him, the one that’s there when you’re annoyed.

“You can always ask me to keep you company,” you say, and his heart skips a beat. He’s sure you didn’t mean it like that, tries to pretend that it’s the monster that stirs his mind in that direction, but he knows, deep down, that that’s not the truth. That he’s actually desperate to know that someone like you could see value in someone like him.

But the truth is, if anything, you see value in everyone but him.

It doesn’t matter that you’re looking at him with these eyes, that you’re sitting with him, that you brought him food. You’re kind. You’d do that for just anyone.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he tells you flatly once he’s gotten himself back under control. “Thank you for doing that.” Then, after a moment, “Anything I should know about what’s going on out there?”

You start answering, soft voice describing all sorts of meaningless details that you’ve noticed and apparently care about. Eun Hyuk keeps his back to the cameras. He still sees, from the corner of his eye, the monster taunting him. But as long as you’re here, so real, so soft, so human, he knows he can resist its pull.

Too bad he doesn’t know how long you’ll stick around for him.

first time writing for eun hyuk and it was quite interesting to do! also i think i need to try my hand at writing him before s3 comes out lol. i hope you enjoyed it! reblogs and comments are strongly appreciated and keep me motivated and writing :)

more writing for sweet home

[neysaadept]

fic request, i read your last request fic and kinda had a slight idea. for the prompts i need you & you’re family. similar ish to the last fic but emily is struggling and trying to convince her how important she actually is

I do hope you enjoy what I came up with!

Self Surrender

Emily Prentiss x Female!Reader (Reader is a Financial Analyst)

Tags - No use of y/n, swearing, angst, established relationship. mentions of blood but not gory, hurt/comfort. Set after the events of Demonology. Minors DNI.

AO3

Word Count: 2.3k

It is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles. Then the victory is yours. It cannot be taken from you, not by angels or by demons, heaven or hell -  Buddha

It was a late day at work with a deadline that got pushed up due to military funding and the financials needed to be completed by end of day today. You enjoy crunching numbers and the beauty of spreadsheets, but this was fucking ridiculous. Yes, yes, need to keep people safe with the top-secret project you were working on at Northrup Grumman, but no one needed to baseline the damn project right now. The software design was already approved so what did it matter? Of course, you did not get paid the big bucks to make these decisions but one day, you aspired to be.

By the time you return to your town home in Westboro, MD, it was past 10pm. All you could think of was having a generous glass of wine while taking a bath to soak your stress and aches of the day away. You toss your keys and purse on a table in the foyer, lock up and reset the security system. You take off your coat and shake off the snow before hanging it up in the closet and turn on the lights. Shoes were kicked off and then you walked down the hallway into the living room to pick up the remote control on top of the fireplace. You turn on the flatscreen above on the wall and put on a classic rock station to fill your home with music, but something gives you pause before you put the remote back down.

You suddenly pivot on your feet to see what causes your senses to heighten, and there sitting on your couch dressed all in black is Emily Prentiss. Somehow you missed her when you first walked in.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Em!” You set the remote down and laugh in relief. “Scared the shit outta me.”

She doesn’t say anything but acknowledges you with her lips twisted to the side looking apologetic.

You’re delighted to see her but couldn’t fathom why Emily didn’t call or text you she was going to meet you here at your home. She was close to practically living here, which is why she had a key and the code to the town home and can truly come and go as she pleases, but something was clearly off as you approach her. She hadn’t even taken her coat or shoes off and looked distraught with brown eyes dull and introspective. What really made your heart ache was the dried blood under her nose.

“What the hell happened?!” Now you move quickly to sit beside her and immediately tilt her head to face you. You swipe your thumb above her lip and find it doesn’t come off easily. It was dried.

You frown. “What happened, baby?”

“Case was bad,” she answers in a raspy voice and gently tries to bring your hand down by the wrist. You don’t budge. “But I’m okay.”

You look at her dubiously and narrow your eyes. “Then why is my love sitting on my couch looking uncomfortable and sad?”

She shrugs as her response.

“Okay.” You are patient and lower your hands to slide the coat off her shoulders. “Take this off and I’ll go make us some tea.” You want clear heads for right now if Emily wants to talk and the tea would be soothing and warm for the weather outside.

She nods at that, and you give her a quick kiss that she returns.

The kitchen had an entrance through the living room and quickly take the stainless steel kettle off the stove top to the faucet to fill with water. You do look to your right to make sure Emily is getting comfortable and smiles that she is also taking off her shoes.

As the kettle heats up, you go into a cabinet to grab two clean kitchen towels and run one under warm water. After you rinse it out to be properly damp, you make your way back to the couch and see Emily has neatly folded her coat on the loveseat and her shoes were on the mat in front of the patio doors. What bothers you is her upright posture and her defensively crossed her arms over her stomach. She rarely does that around you anymore, but what’s worse, is she’s staring out through the patio windows. She is watching the snow come down and doesn’t realize you are back. This was so unlike her.

“Em?” you call out gently and watch as she drags her eyes towards you before her head follows. You dangle the towels before her as you sit down once again. “Let me take care of that …”

“It’s alright. I got it,” she says and reaches for the towel to do it herself. You give it up and bunch the dry towel between your hands.

You watch Emily start to dry the blood from under nose. “Wanna talk about it?” you offer as your hand goes to her thigh to squeeze in comfort. Even if she didn’t want to talk, you could offer small gestures of affection.

She doesn’t immediately say anything but when she was done cleaning herself off, Emily points to the picture on the glass coffee table. It was an old picture by the look of it, all folded up and yellow with age. You give her the dry towel to finish cleaning herself up and carefully pick up the picture, unfolding it.

You can’t help the smile that comes seeing a teenage Emily with two boys. All were smiling and had their arms up, except the boy on the right only had one. “Look at you. Still got the same smile.”

The affection you feel at Emily sharing a part of her past turns to concern because if she is showing you this with her mood clearly down, something terrible has happened. You look at her and wait, knowing she’ll speak when she’s ready.

“The picture was taken in Rome when my mother was posted there.” She rolls the wet towel into the dry one and sets them aside on the couch arm. She scoots closer and points to each boy. “That’s Matthew. And that’s Johnny.”

Emily reaches for the picture which you gladly relinquish and guides you to sit back on the couch with her. She strokes Matthew’s face with a thumb. “Matthew died.”

Your eyes widen in horror. Immediately your arm entwines Emily’s as you rest your head against her shoulder. You squeeze her forearm and respond so sadly. “I’m so sorry, Em. What happened?”

All three of them were around the same age in the picture so it had to be shocking to know someone Emily’s age had died. What you didn’t anticipate is what Emily shares next. “This case I told you I was working on …”

“Yeah,” you answer softly and then a shiver runs down your back as you understand where this was leading. “Oh, shit. I … I’m so sorry that you …” But you pause because something didn’t make sense. “I thought you couldn’t work on a case about someone you’re close to?”

That pulls a smile from her. “There’s my smart girl. You’re right. I asked the BAU to look into his death since it was under suspicious circumstances.”

“And they found out what happened?”

She briskly nods. “Yes. We did.”

You tilt your head to look at her profile with a frown. “We? Hotch let you work the case?” You lick your lips and continue softly so confused. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“It’s nothing. Really,” she states firmly.

“Okay.” You rest your head back down on her shoulder and try a different approach. “Then why did I find you in my home sitting in the dark?”

Her lips firmly press together and for a moment, you think Emily’s going to bolt. You’re upset that you were right as she starts to shift under you to untangle limbs. “You’re right. That was inconsiderate of me …”

The tea kettle begins to whistle but you ignore it for now as you hold onto her and plea. “Please don’t go.”

She stiffens under you, and you can tell Emily is weighing her options. To your relief, she settles back against the couch. “Okay,” she states so quietly that you thought you heard wrong.

“Are you in the mood for hazelnut?” you ask, hoping that you heard right.

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

You lift your head and kiss her and then her on the cheek. “I’ll be back quick.”

She squeezes your hand with acknowledgement and as a promise to not go anywhere. You head into the kitchen and turn the stove off and place the teapot on a cooler grate. You take the cream-colored mugs off the wall rack and rummage in the cupboard for the hazelnut and mint teas to steep for both of you. You came back in five minutes and Emily was anxiously waiting for you. She was aggressively going at her fingernails and your eyes move from her nervous habit to gaze at her brown ones with sympathy.

Silently you set down your respective mugs on a wooden coaster before you sit back down and take Emily’s hands in your own. You run soothing circles over dry skin from the cold outside. “Talk to me. Please?”

She looks away, eyes focusing on the hardwood floors. “This is the time I fuck up relationships.”

“What makes you think you’ve fucked up our relationship?” you ask with confusion.

Emily scowls and audibly sighs. “Because … because I should’ve told you about this when it first started happening. And … everything around it that involved me.”

You look confused but she doesn’t see it as she continues. “I’m afraid. Of losing you to something stupid I do. Or don’t do because I can’t talk about how I feel. Or even worse.” Emily’s words turn harsher as she verbally lashes herself. “That I don’t know how to talk to you about it. Which is what I did.”

You reach out and gently touch Emily’s chin, briefly caressing it, before you coax her to turn to face you. You search for her gaze, but you are unable to connect with her just yet. “You’re talking to me now.”

“But, for how long are you gonna tolerate me keeping things from you?” she admits and quietly adds at the end, “how long before you leave me…”

Your eyes water at hearing this startling admission. Never did you think Emily was afraid of you leaving her. That was your fear of her doing that to you. You frantically blink, not wanting to let her go and wipe any tears that may fall. “Em?”

She doesn’t respond verbally or physically, only staring off at the floor. “Emily. Please… please look at me?”

It takes a good long minute for her to find the strength to lift her head and shift her gaze to hold yours. What she sees makes her choke back a sob because there is nothing but love reflecting in your orbs. You smile tenderly. “I need you, Em. So, I’m not going anywhere.”

She laughs out of nerves, not believing you. “Maybe not now …”

“Hey!” You deeply frown and drop your hand to run through her hair before rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not just gonna run out on the love of my life because shit got hard. And I’m still well versed in your long ass monologue when things got serious that you’re a pain in the ass who works long hours, is out of state a lot, and has commitment issues. Oh!” You smile, almost forgetting one important part. “And that your mom’s an ass.”

She looks sheepish as she tries to bite back a laugh. “Yeah, I did say all that.” She gazes deeply into your watery eyes that couldn’t hold back tears any longer. “And you’re still here.”

You nod. “I’m still here. Four months later. Cuz, I love you, you fucking dork.”

That makes her laugh. “Tell me how you really feel.”

You know she was kidding but you answer anyway. “You’re my family, Em. Nothing’s gonna change that. And I can see how hard this is for you but I’m not going anywhere just because it gets hard talking about the past. It’s happened with me, too, and you’re still here.”

She smiles tenderly. “Yeah.”

You scoot closer to her and cup Emily’s cheek with your free hand. “We got all the time in the world to share ourselves. I’m just glad you’re here with me, tonight, instead of by yourself. And to me? That’s a brave fucking thing you’ve done, baby.”

Emily joins you in shedding tears as you watch her overcome with emotion. Her lower lip quivers and she visibly shakes, and not from the cold. You were going to bring her into a hug but instead she launches forward and captures your mouth in a fierce, grounding, kiss. It was a kiss that made your body shiver from its intensity, feeling the love Emily has for you and her need to connect physically as words were so difficult for her to find. Her kiss is also an apology and a promise to do better.

And as Emily clings to your top, you press against her while you return the kiss. Now, it was a mutual promise you both declare moving forward and as long as you both could come together like this? You two would weather any storm.

[random-thot-generator]

Don’t Leave Me Hangin’

MANDO x FEM READER

Summary: Reader gets stuck aloft in one of the Kom’rik’s cargo nets and has to call out to Mando for help. Filthy Mando smut ensues.

Warnings: explicit language, swearing, explicit sexual content, porn without plot, well, maybe a tiny little hint of plot, oral- f receiving, PiV, squirting, cum play(?), it’s messy- nuff said, Kom’rik sex, improper use of a cargo net, reader is an idiot who should think things through, Mando is an opportunist, no use of Y/N, maybe? bondage - Mando doesn’t help her out of the net like- immediately, but reader ain’t complainin’

(N/A: The brain fog has FINALLY lifted, and I wanted to write about my most recent random filthy thot. This is the result. It’s a long-ish, smutty one shot. Reader & Mando are in a situationship - friends-with-benefits type deal. I’m picturing like a live-in nanny/housekeeper kind of thing, but I don’t think I ever specified. This is post-season 3, and Mando’s living his best life on Nevarro. He and reader are in a Kom’rik, because I need room for my smut to flourish, and I didn’t want to resurrect the poor old Razor Crest from the ashes. If I missed any tags, let me know. And I hope you enjoy.)

Word Count: 4280

You really should have thought this through better.

That was your first thought after the cargo net stopped swinging, and you regained a modicum of composure. You winced at the sound of the net’s straps creaking under the strain as you tried to shift your weight and then froze. You remained completely motionless, afraid to even breathe, for several more moments.

“Shit...” you whispered in a quaking voice, peering down at the floor of the cargo hold several meters below you. You then glanced up at the winch mechanism above your head, praying it held. How in the hell were you going to get yourself out of this?

It had seemed like such a good plan at the time. You had just stepped out of the Kom’rik’s small ‘fresher, having showered and changed into your sleep shirt before bed, when you’d felt the ship drop out of hyperspace with a small lurch. You heard something clatter in the cargo hold below and blew out a tired sigh, knowing it was probably nothing but also knowing you wouldn’t be able to rest until you checked it out.

Grumbling under your breath, you had climbed down into the hold. Only the emergency lights were on, the ceiling and corners hidden in shadow, but you spotted something lying near a tier of shelves attached to the hull’s interior wall. It was one of the kid’s favorite cookies, the teal ones with the creme filling. Peering up into the gloom, you spied an opened foil sleeve of cookies perched on the edge of the highest shelf.

“How the hell did he even get up there?” you said aloud, shaking your head. Jedi training aside, the kid was far too much like his dad, a little risk-taker. You heaved a sigh, with no small amount of exasperation. 

Stars only knew what else he had left up there. Come to think of it, you had given him your datapad earlier to watch cartoons and hadn’t seen it since. Sighing in frustration, you began looking for a way to reach the top shelf. The propulsor lift was still charging, so that was a no-go, and you didn’t see a ladder of any sort that wasn’t attached to the ship already.

And then you had spied the cargo net.

It was dangling by its hooks from a mechanized winch and pulley system attached to the ceiling. It was used to keep extra containers suspended above the floor to free up space, its track running the entire circuit of the area for maneuverability and convenience. Designed to hold several hundred kilograms, you were certain it could support your own weight. You could use it to lift yourself up to the shelf, retrieve whatever was up there and then lower yourself back to the ground. Easy peasy, jogan squeezy.

Detaching the control pad for the winch from the wall, you climbed inside the net, lacing an arm through the holes for a better grip, and then planted your bare feet on the cross sections of the heavy straps. It was a bit shaky at first, but once you gained your balance, you quickly ascended until you were at eye level with the top shelf. Tucking the control pad under your chin, you reached up to feel your datapad under your fingertips and sniffed in amusement. You’d have to give Grogu a good talking-to in the morning, but for now you at least had your datapad back. Slipping it and the sleeve of cookies off the shelf, you shuffled the objects around, your grip on the net slackening.

It was then that the Kom’rik made another jump into hyperspace, making the ship jolt with the transition. You shrieked when the net began to swing wildly, feet slipping out from under you as you let go of everything in your hands to hang on for dear life. Panting for breath, heart thundering in your chest, you clung like a monkey-lizard to the straps and prayed the net didn’t break.

So, there you were, hanging above the hold like a piece over-ripe fruit, arms and legs entangled in the net with no way down, because, of course, you had dropped the winch’s control pad when you dropped everything else. You could see it lying on the floor below you, right next to the broken casing of your datapad.

“Shit!” you repeated, leaning your forehead against the straps and huffing out an angry breath. Could this situation get any worse, you wondered. You’d have to yell for Mando to come get you down, which you weren’t looking forward to, but who knew how long it would take before he even came back this way? What if decided to just sleep in the cockpit? Would you end up hanging there all night?

The thought made your awkward position in the net feel even more uncomfortable. Your feet had slipped through the holes, so your legs were now dangling under you, the straps cutting into the tender meat of your thighs. One of your arms was still threaded through the net while the other one was pinned close to your side. You could feel the cold air of the hold settling into your bones and making you shiver, the thin material of the tunic doing little to stave off the chill.

You knew that the longer you hung there, the colder you were going to get, the number your limbs were going to grow. Your feet were already stinging and your teeth chattering. There was no help for it. You had to call for Mando.

“MANDO!!!”

Your voice bounced back at you, making your flinch. Holding your breath, you waited to hear his boots thudding against the metal floor overhead, but nothing. He hadn’t heard you.

“MAANN-DDOO! HEEELP!”

You waited. Still nothing.

Oh, stars, maybe he had fallen asleep in the cockpit. after all. With the door sealed, he would never hear you. Panic began to creep in, shortening your breath as it constricted your lungs.

“MANDO! PLEASE! I’M STUCK IN THE HOLD! MAN-DOO!!!”

“What the hell are you doing?”

You heard his voice coming through the ship’s comm system and could have cried in relief. You’d forgotten the cams located throughout the ship. Stars, he’d probably been watching you this whole time. You were never in danger.

“I... I’m stuck, Mando.”

A gravelly bark echoed in the hold before turning to static. Great. He was laughing at you. “Obviously. Listen, I need to recheck the coordinates in navi and set the autopilot, then I’ll come get you down. Just, uh, hang tight,” he drawled, another garbled sound slipping out of his vocoder.

You bit your tongue to keep from saying something you might regret. You were in no position to taunt or snark back at him right now. “Fine,” you mumbled, and slumped into the net.

It was only a few minutes before the sound of his heavy boots were thudding across the metal floor above you, his footsteps music to your ears. You heard the clang of his armor hitting against the ladder before he slid down into view, feet landing with a solid thump in the hold. He approached at a leisurely pace, seemingly in no hurry, then stopped to stare up at you. His helmet tilted back, black visor glinting in the low light. Planting his hands on his hips, he tipped his head, first to one side and then to the other.

“M-Mando? What’re you doing? Can you get me down now, please?”

Mando hummed, his stance shifting. His arms dropped down to his sides, hands curling into fists. “You must be getting pretty cold, huh?”

You bunched your brows up in consternation. “Um... yeah? It’s fr-freezing down here.”

He nodded slowly, keeping his visor trained on you. “Hmm. Thought so. You’re not wearing anything but my old tunic. It’s not covering much. Is it?”

You quirked a brow at the change in his voice. His smooth baritone had dropped an octave or three, and it had a distinctive husk to it now. His tone was the one he used when the two of you were alone with the lights off and he was taking you apart, dark and sinfully seductive. It made you squirm despite your precarious position, and the net began to slowly sway back and forth. The edge of a strap slid into the crease where your thigh met your hip, and you felt your lower lips part. A low groan issued from his vocoder. Your mouth fell open.

Sweet Maker, your pussy was on full display for him. You hadn’t bothered with underwear after your shower, planning on putting on a clean pair once you got back to your sleeping quarters. Heat surged through your body, both from embarrassment and unexpected arousal.

“Mando...” Your voice sounded so small and breathy in the cavernous space.

“I can see everything, pretty girl,” he told you, taking an unconscious step closer. He was almost directly under you now, peering straight up at your exposed sex. Mortified, you felt the slow trickle of your arousal easing out of your channel. You weren’t dripping, not yet, but the thought of him standing beneath you, staring at your most vulnerable parts had your breath panting out in little puffs. “You... Are you going to... get me down, now?”

You heard the back of his gauntlet scrape the metal floor as he picked up the control pad for the winch. His breath was rasping through his vocoder, the sound of leather creaking as he moved underneath you. You felt the winch catch and then begin to whir as the net began to lower back to the floor.

“Thank the stars,” you whispered, anxious to be back on solid ground again.

You didn’t quite make it, though. You were still a few meters above the floor when the winch came to a sudden stop, leaving you to sway like the pendulum of a run-down clock. “M-Mando?”

“Look so pretty like this, sweet girl,” he murmured below you, and you felt his gloved fingers trail across the back of your thigh. You gasped at the contact. “Close your eyes,” he husked out, voice gone to gravel.

You didn’t even bother to ask why, just snapped your eyes shut and held your breath, waiting. You heard the slap of leather on the floor, guessing it must be his gloves he’d just taken off, and then you felt his bare fingers tracing the straps that dug into your thighs. His fingertips grazed along the edge where the strap met the skin, the sensation making you tense as heat spiraled in your belly, diffusing through your pelvis to spread in a hot rush of slick that trickled out to cool along the petals of your open folds.

“Oh, mesh’la,” Mando cooed, dark and low. “You’re dripping for me, pretty girl.”

A whine escaped your lips, breath catching in your throat as you felt his fingers slide through your arousal, gathering your essence on his fingertips. There was the pneumatic hiss of air as his helmet disengaged and then the ring of beskar ricocheted around the hold as he dropped it to the floor. You could hear the lewd, wet noises he made as he suckled his own fingers, moaning at the taste of you.

“Don’t move, baby girl.”

“Oh, Maker...” you whimpered in a quaking whisper.

You could feel your walls clenching in anticipation. Mando had never used his mouth on you before, said he’d never gone down on anyone before, but as the winch whirred back into motion only to grind to a stop again a moment later, you guessed you were about to find out if this would be his first time.

When you felt his hair tickle the backs of your thighs, an eruptive shudder passed through your entire body. When his nose grazed over your clit, you jolted in the confines of the straps hard enough to send the net swaying, but he caught you and brought you back to center.

“Sh-shh... Easy, baby girl. I got you...” He paused, sniffed. “Fuck, you smell so good,” he hissed out in a rush, and you heard him inhale, could feel his nose right at your parted lips. It was so filthy, so obscene, what he was doing, but it made you quiver with lust, just the same.

His hands came up to grip your ankles, holding you in place. “That’s better,” he murmured, hot breath gusting over your damp folds, eliciting another shiver from you. “Let me hear you, pretty girl. Want to know how good I’m making you feel. Okay?”

You nodded your head furiously, swallowing in an attempt to bring a bit of moisture back into your parched mouth. “Y-Yeah. Okay, Mando.” You didn’t even care that it came out as a whine.

The first touch of his tongue had you choking on air, hips stuttering, not sure whether to rock forward or away from the lapping muscle, but his strong hands held you fast, not letting your squirm away. He dragged his tongue in a slow, hot line from your entrance to your clit, and you moaned like a porn star. You could feel his cheeks bunch up as he grinned at your reaction, and then he flicked his tongue over your pulsing clit again, pulling a sputtering,” Ha-aaa-aaah!” from your gaping mouth.

“You like it when I do that?” he purred lowly into your folds. “What about when I do this?” He enveloped the sensitive bud with his lips, tongue flickering over it with feather-light touches, making you writhe and grind against his mouth. He groaned, then suctioned his lips around it and sucked, pressing his tongue firmly against it. Your plaintive wail echoed throughout the ship.

“Fuck me...” he moaned, panting for breath, his voice shaking. He was completely wrecked. With a desperate snarl, he dove back in with a vengeance, tongue laving your inner folds, twirling around your entrance, lapping at your juices before kissing and sucking at your puffy, parted lips. He was devouring you whole, winding the coil in your core into a taut vibrating spring of tension. Your thighs were shaking uncontrollably, your breaths wheezing out of your lungs in desperate pants.

“Mando! Mando, I...” 

You couldn’t even voice a coherent thought, couldn’t tell him what was about to happen, but he seemed to understand, nevertheless. His fingers slid along your pulsing folds to catch at the rim of your entrance, circling it once before slipping inside. Your walls immediately clamped onto the digits, muscles undulating to pull them deeper. He growled at the feeling and latched onto your clit again crooking his fingers in a come-hither motion, the strokes sharp and quick as they tapped out a devastating tattoo against the spongy membrane of your G-spot.

The world went white behind your pinched eyelids, and you weren’t even aware of the choked scream that tore out of your throat as you were blindsided by your orgasm. The spring in your core gave way with a snap and warmth flooded from your center to gush out around his fingers and over his arm, splattering his lower face, cowl and chest plate.

“Ha!” he crowed. “That’s it! Fuck yes!”

You were barely hanging on, your very bones liquefied as you twitched and groaned with each consecutive pulse of your climax. If you had oozed out through the holes in the net to pool at his feet, you wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised.

“So fuckin’ good, for me. Look at that. Fuck, I need — nngh!”

You heard the motor of the winch whir back into life, then felt the cold sensation of the floor touch the bottom of your feet. You couldn’t have held up your own weight if your life depended on it, however, and so folded up with the netting as it came to rest on the floor. Strong hands lifted you out the mess of straps, hands moving over you, manipulating you as he whispered feverish words in Mando’a  like some fervent benediction.

You felt your back come to rest on top of the netting, the worn fabric of his cape spread out beneath you to serve as a barrier against the rough material. You had yet to open your eyes, jaw slack as you floated somewhere high above your physical body in a state of pure bliss.

Mando placed his calloused hand over your eyes, unwilling to test fate more than he already had. He felt crazed, rabid with lust, his only desire to be buried balls-deep in your cunt.

“Need to feel you, sweet girl,” he gasped at your ear, his breath stuttering against your neck. “Please, I need — “

“Yes! Stars, please, Mando. Want to feel you inside me. Do it...”

He whimpered as he lifted himself away long enough to scrabble at the closure of his pants, shoving them down with his underwear to the top of his thigh plates, a frustrating exercise to complete one-handed. When his cock sprang free of its confines, he moaned in relief, pumping it roughly a couple of times as he spread his leaking precrum over the head with his thumb. With a grunt, he fell between your thighs, notching himself at your entrance, inhaling a deep breath before he sank into your greedy, grasping cunt with an audible squelch.

“Fuuuckin’ hellll...” he moaned out as he slid inside your fluttering walls, grunting again when he felt them collapse around his cock and seize it in a vice grip. It was a struggle to draw himself back, the sensation making his balls draw up tight against his body. “Too good... too tight... Gonna make me cum...” he mumbled under his breath, fighting off his orgasm. When he had withdrawn a about halfway, he couldn’t stand it anymore and plunged back in, thrusting hard enough to shift the netting beneath you.

You sobbed, the feeling of being so full overwhelming, your shaking legs coming up to wrap around his hips, ankles locking over the flexing muscles of his ass. He was driving into you with abandon, the toes of his boots squeaking on the floor to find purchase, bracing his body against yours. His other arm he shoved under your back, fingers hooking over your shoulder to pull you down on his cock to meet each hard thrust. He was growling, muttering curses in multiple languages, hissing as you clenched and pulsed around him.

“Ah, fuck, sweet girl, I’m gonna — Shit! Fuck, baby, where do you want — “

“Inside... Want to feel you cum in me...” you moaned out, another orgasm rising like a massive wave in your core. “Ah, fuck!” you whined.

Your words snapped that last thread of control he had, and he surged forward, thrusting in wild, arhythmic strokes that sent you careening over the edge. Your climax washed over you like a euphoric wave, slow and liquid, a golden warmth that engulfed your lower half before spreading like molten honey.

Mando could feel your walls clamp down and spasm, milking his cock, drawing him in deeper. He threw his head back and came with a bellow, a primal, jagged roar of triumph. His chest lifted as his back arched, his cock exploding inside your walls, pumping ribbons of his thick seed deep into your hungry cunt.

He barely managed to throw an arm out to catch himself before falling forward. He was trembling above you. and when his elbow buckled, his head fell to your chest. His nose was smooshed into the side of your breast, his panting breaths teasing the sensitive bud of your nipple into a hard little nub beneath the thin material of his tunic. He gave a dazed grin at the sight, wishing he had the energy to take it in his mouth, but he wasn’t sure he could even lift his head yet.

“Stars, pretty girl. I think you’ve killed me.”

A breathless wheeze of laughter burst out of your chest, and you reached up to pull down the hand now splayed limp over your face to your lips. You left a lingering kiss in the palm as you crooked your other arm over your eyes, just so the temptation to peek wouldn’t get the best of you. You felt him lift his head with reluctance, his weight shifting, before his lips pressed to yours in a sweet, chaste kiss.

“You alright? I know I went pretty hard this time. I didn’t mean to lose it like that, but — “

Your hand came up to touch his face, landing on his neck instead. You slid it upward to cup his jaw, the feel of his patchy beard against your palm endearing. “Don’t you dare apologize,” you told him and drew him down for another kiss. “It was perfect. The best I’ve ever had,” you whispered against his lips.

He sighed, smiling against your mouth in relief and pleasure. When he shifted again, he saw you grimace. “Did I hurt you, sweet girl?” he rushed to ask, lifting his weight off you.

You giggled and shook your head. “No, it’s not that. There’s something cold and sticky all over your chest plate. It feels... icky.”

He glanced down to see your release from earlier smeared over his beskar, and he chuckled, low and dirty. “That’s your fault,” he teased. “You drowned me when you came the first time.”

Your mouth dropped open and, if not for his hand coming down to hold your arm in place, you would have jerked it away from your eyes to stare at him in shock. “I did not!” you gasped. mortified.

“Oh, you did, pretty girl,” he crooned. “I want to make you do it again.”

“What? N-Now?!”

A full-on laugh rumbled out of his chest this time. “No, sweet girl. As much as I’d love to, I don’t either one of us is going to be able to go another round after that last one.”

“Oh, thank the Maker,” you blurted out, and then winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean —”

He sniffed in amusement and pecked you on the lips. “I know what you meant, mesh’la.” Sitting back on his knees, he rubbed at his face, grinning at the sticky feel of your spend drying in his mustache. He was positively covered in your cum, and he fucking loved it. His poor cock gave a valiant twitch before he tucked it back into his pants and stood. “C’mon, sweet girl. Let’s get in the shower.” He retrieved his helmet, slipping it back on before bending to take you by the hand.

You groaned. “Just lemme sleep here. Can’t move right now.”

“You’ll freeze down here,” he chided you. “Now come on. I’ll help you.”

You whined as he hauled you onto your feet, and you staggered on your shaking legs. He shook his head and turned his back to you, bending his knees slightly. “Hop on. I’ll carry you up the ladder. Otherwise, we will be down here all night.”

You made a face at him, but wrapped your arms around his neck anyway, making a weak hop to get onto his back. Grasping your thighs, he hitched you up a little higher and stood, then trudged towards the ladder at the opposite end of the hold.

“Oh, stars,” you moaned out behind him, dropping your forehead to his back. “Do you think we woke Grogu? We were, uh... ahem... We were, you know, a little loud,” you whispered.

“Well, the ship’s still flying, and I didn’t hear anything break while we were down here, so I’m going to say no.”

You giggled. “He’s gonna get it tomorrow morning,” you vowed. “He was the reason I got caught up in that stupid net in the first place. He somehow managed to get on that top shelf with a whole sleeve of cookies and my datapad.” You paused, moaned again. “Shit. My datapad. It broke when I dropped it.”

“Don’t worry, mesh’la. We’ll get you another one, and I’ll talk to Grogu myself tomorrow morning, right after breakfast. Okay?”

You sighed, a little grin tugging at your lips. “Okay.” You heaved a sigh, tightening your grip when Mando started to climb up the ladder. “I know one thing. I’m burning that stupid net when we get back to Nevarro.”

Mando huffed and shook his head. “Like hell you are. We’re bringing that home with us. It’s going up in the bedroom, right above the bed.”

You gasped in shock, rearing your head back. “Mando!”

His rumbling chuckle bounced off the metal walls of the ship, and a warmth like the sun bloomed in your chest as a smile as big as the Dune Sea spread across your face.

“Okay, fine. We’ll discuss the cargo net later. But right now, I want a shower.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mando purred, and you could hear the grin in his voice. Taking your hand, he led you into the ‘fresher.

Despite Mando’s earlier doubts, you found out that you both did indeed have another round left in you.

(End notes: Just wanted to mention @saradika because she created the dividers and banners I’m using. She makes them for free. You can check out her masterlist on her blog. Her fics are *chef’s kiss* too.) 

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

G🎸🥵🎀

Golden boy

Words: 989

Rated: E

Tags: Post-Vecna; Established relationship; Scars; Trauma; Dom!Eddie; Sub;Steve; Collars; Leashes; Choking; Butt plugs; Edging; Kink negotiation; Stoplight system

“Oh,” Eddie says, like he only just remembered. “I got you something from Indy.” 

Steve blinks sluggishly. He’s slipped into that pleasant, floaty headspace that he’s only ever able to find with Eddie. Everything is fuzzy around the edges, even the movie they’ve put on reduced to a dull drone in the background. He can't for the life of him remember which one it is. 

“Hm?” he murmurs - a barely there hum against Eddie’s skin, where his face is tugged into the crook of his neck. “Like a gift? ‘s not even my birthday.” 

“Oh,” Eddie chuckles, fingers tracing down the scars on Steve's back, coming to rest on the curve of his ass. “But what better way to spend that gig money than a present for my good boy? You've been good, haven't you, Stevie?” 

His hand slides between Steve’s ass cheeks and Steve gasps. 

“Yes. Yes, I've been good.” 

“Shhh, baby, I know you have,” Eddie coos, lightly flicking the base of the plug. Steve moans but doesn't buck, even though his naked cock is starting to strain against the fabric of Eddie’s jeans. “Wearing this for me, not touching yourself all week. You've been so, so good for me. And good boys get rewards, yeah?” 

He retrieves something from the sofa cushions and presses it into Steve’s hands. A flat, black box. It’s wrapped in a broad gold ribbon made of delicate tulle. It shimmers in the low light as Steve pulls open the knot, and for a second he's afraid it'll come apart under his touch. He can feel Eddie’s eyes on him, dark and intense, as he lifts the lid off the box. 

Inside, nestled on a velvet pillow, is a collar. Soft, tan leather with a gold buckle and a little o-ring to match. Steve’s stomach drops right out of his body.

“I- … no,” he hears himself murmur. “No way, I'm not doing that.” 

He doesn't even realize he's been trying to scramble off Eddie’s lap before those calloused fingers are on his hips, steadying him with gentle pressure. Not enough to keep him from getting away, should he put his mind to it. Just a firm, grounding reminder that Eddie has got him, that he's safe. 

“Woah,” Eddie mutters. “Okay, I think we need a check-in. Color?” 

Steve swallows and feels his throat bop around the lump that has lodged itself in there.

“Yellow? Listen, I'm sorry, I know we talked about this and I said I thought I might like it, but-” 

“But the real thing is different from the thought?” Eddie's voice is a low, soothing murmur. His thumbs are massaging little circles into the skin over Steve’s hip bones. 

“Yeah,” Steve says. Licks his lips. His eyes flicker back to the collar. “No. I dunno, it's weird. I thought I could do it, but …” 

He trails off, fingers brushing absentmindedly over the scar on his neck. Eddie’s eyes follow the movement and Steve's stomach coils with embarrassment. He knows Eddie has been looking forward to this all week, at least as much as himself. Way to ruin the mood. 

“I'm sorry,” he says again. “I should be over it by now.” 

Eddie shakes his head, smile fond, and sets the box with the collar aside. “Nah, big boy. You'll be ready when you're ready. Doesn't matter if that's next month, or next year, or never at all. Okay?” 

Steve nods, breathless, speechless. Something soft blooms in his chest, settling warm and tight in his abdomen as Eddie pulls him in for a kiss. 

“What do you like about it?” 

“Huh?” Steve says. Eddie has pulled back just enough to speak. Steve can feel the shape of the words against his lips.

“If you wanted to try this, that means there must be something you like about the idea. Tell me what it is?” 

Steve wets his lips.

“I, um … I like the idea of being yours, I guess. Of you putting something on me to remind me of that. To remind me you're in control.”

“I see,” Eddie hums. And then his fingers wrap around Steve's throat, a barely there pressure against his pulse, and Steve freezes. “So, how's this, color-wise?” 

“Green,” Steve gasps. His hips start rolling of their own accord, flushed cock grinding into Eddie’s lap. “So very fucking green. Eddie, please-” 

Eddie uses the hand against his throat to guide him into another kiss. Holds him in place while he takes his sweet time coaxing Steve’s lips apart, fucking his tongue into his mouth with slow, languid motions. It takes a long while until he allows them to part for breath, and even longer for Steve’s vision to swim back into focus. 

When it does, Eddie's hand is no longer on his throat. Instead, it's dangling the golden tulle ribbon between them, light and transparent as air. 

“Green,” Steve is whispering before he even knows he's made the decision. “Green, green, green. Fuck, Eddie, please!” 

The fabric feels cool and ticklish as it settles against his skin, and he knows that one sudden move would be all it takes to free himself. Also knows he’d never want to break free. Not when Eddie’s eyes are full of that burning adoration, not when it feels so good, being at his mercy.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes. He lets the long ends of the ribbon rest in his hand, like a leash. “You look amazing in gold.”

“Y-yeah?” Steve asks. He feels dizzy - drunk in the best possible way. He's naked and collared and completely in Eddie’s control, and he never wants to be anywhere else. 

“Oh yeah,” Eddie agrees. “But you know where you'd look even better?” 

He tugs on the makeshift leash, smile turning sharp when Steve moans in response. 

“On your knees between my legs, hands behind your back.” 

Oh, right. Turns out there is a place Steve would like to be even better. 

More celebration ficlets

[miraclewoozi]

[ 22:38 ] - b.sk

pairing : seungkwan x fem reader. content : smut. literal pwp. (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT.) w/c : 1.5k. notes : i’m down horrendous for boo seungkwan and his fucking hands. what else is new? SMUT TAGS UTC.  notes 2.0 : my first timestamp! wow. how fun. (i honestly just needed to get this out of my system, so. sorry about it.) boosadans, u guys are are so starved. pls accept this little token of my love to you.

smut tags : soft!dom seungkwan, sub!reader. swearing (obv). physical restraining (if you squint there’s maybe the tiniest implication of a size kink but not really?), some possessiveness but it’s minimal and mc likes it, unwrapped piv sex (he pulls out but still. be safe out there team), nipple play, clit stimulation, praise, pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart), some orgasm control. LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT ANYTHING.

Both of your wrists fit so perfectly in just one of his hands. 

It’s the best revelation he’s ever made. In the months you’ve been together, there have never really been any true power dynamics at play in the bedroom, both of you always too caught up trying to please instead of dominate. But when you release your hands from where they’ve been tangled in his hair and they fall onto the mattress just above your head, something clicks inside him. Seungkwan finds himself now gently pinning your arms down to your bed sheets as he leans over you, his long fingers spread wide to keep you in place, his hips rocking against you rhythmically. Just hard enough to rile you up. Just a little too slow to have you shaking.

It’s perfect, Seungkwan thinks, because it keeps his other hand free to use however he desires. He can cup your cheek, and murmur ‘my pretty baby’ at you as your eyes roll back into your head. He can toy with your nipples, if he wants, and tell you how perfect your tits look when he thrusts hard enough to make them bounce. He can grip your waist, holding you still as he fucks into you slightly rougher, watching your smooth skin depress under his touch. 

He can even tease his fingers over your clit and make you squeeze your sweet little pussy around his cock. That’s his favourite, he thinks. By the way you react, it might just be yours, too. 

“Harder,” you gasp as he readjusts his hold on your wrists, and he looks down his nose at you with that raised eyebrow, sideways smirk signature he has. You swallow, biting your lip briefly before you say, “fuck— please, Kwannie. Hold them tighter.”

“Oh, princess,” he coos, cock throbbing at how you sound so angelic and beautifully fucked out. More-so as you whine in desperation when his fingers curl more harshly, giving you enough pressure to immobilise your hands entirely. “Is this it? This how you like it?”

“Yes,” you tell him, nodding and tugging against his hold, testing it, but it’s to no avail as he presses you further into the sheets, rolling your clit now between his thumb and forefinger on his other hand. “Fuck, I’m—”

“Not yet,” he interrupts you, shaking his head with a pout that you’re almost inclined to believe is condescending. “You can’t come yet, okay?” 

Well, fuck. You’ve never been too good at holding your orgasms off, and thankfully Seungkwan has very, very rarely asked you to try. He loves the way you feel around him when you unravel, and he’s always so eager to get you off before he does that the moment you tell him you’re close, it’s music to his ears. You’re just so velvety around him. So warm and wet and he sometimes feels bad that he can’t always last that long, but it’s all your fault for being so damn perfect.

You try your best, but you don’t even have anything to grab onto. You can only ball your hands into fists to try and anchor yourself as he snaps and snaps and snaps his hips into you, as he pinches and massages at the bundle of nerves between your thighs. That little smirk makes a comeback on his features, but you don’t notice. Not until —

“Wish you could see yourself right now,” he sighs as he angles his thrusts a little bit deeper and your eyes fly open, your lips parting in a squeak of surprise at how far up in your stomach you feel him. “God, you’re doing so well, baby. Feels like this pussy was made for me.”

It makes your head spin. This is the first time he’s ever said anything like this in bed — he’s usually so… shy, so decorous. But thinking about how every vein in his cock must surely leave imprints on your insides, how the fucking your cunt takes multiple times a week makes you inarguably his? You’ve only ever been turned off by a possessive man, before now, yet this, from your usually so sweet boyfriend? Sends pulse after pulse of pleasure straight to your core. 

You think you need to try and bring this out in him more often. 

Talking back to him is a waste of the effort you’re using to try and hold yourself back from the edge, so you just nod, pinching your lips together as you swallow the words. The issue here, though, is that in your silence, your ears are left to pick up on every single other thing. The lewd sounds of your hole sucking him in over and over. The way your old bed frame squeaks with every single movement. His breathy sighs and moans. The slap of skin on skin when he eventually uses that free hand to hike your left leg up around his waist and he manages to get even closer, still. 

“Please tell me you’re—” you start to say, the fire inside you warmer than it’s ever been without you letting it consume you. “I don’t know if I can…”

“You really need it, huh?” he asks, dipping down to kiss your lips softly, slowing until he almost stops. “You gonna come?”

“Please,” you beg, trying to move beneath him, trying to fuck yourself on his length. You’re so close. You just need a little more. “Please, please, please—”

He lets go of your wrists altogether and immediately, you wrap your arms around him, pressing your fingertips into his back as he settles back into a delicious rhythm. 

“Okay,” is all he says, the word hot as it fans over your parted lips, as his exhale disappears into your mouth. But it’s all he needs to say. Frankly, it’s all he gets the chance to; it happens before you’re ready, before you can communicate it, even though you’ve spent what feels like forever being built up to this. All of your muscles stiffen as it hits you and you’re seeing stars behind your tightly closed eyelids. Your breaths escape you in a series of moans and whines, each inhale more like a gasp. He feels you clenching around him, feels how you try to pull his whole weight down against your stomach, feels how much wetter your cunt gets and how your leg tightens around his waist to try and keep him buried inside you. 

It almost tips him over the edge, too, and even though he stills, he finds himself having to go back naming all of his highschool teachers in his head just to try and keep a shred of composure while your walls do their best to milk him dry. Thankfully, it doesn’t take too long for your arms to go slack around him, and (though reluctantly) he hurries to pull out of you. Seungkwan takes his cock into his hand instead and he fucks into his fist at the same pace as before – and no, it’s not as plush or warm or tight as you, but it doesn’t need to be. You take him to the point of no return every time — this just needs to be enough, and wow, it is. In seconds, his balls tighten and his forehead scrunches and he grunts as he releases in spurts all over your stomach.

He comes, and he comes, and it feels a bit like he’s never going to stop coming. But whenever it does end, when his agonisingly sensitive length starts to soften, and squeezing out every last drop onto your waiting body is almost an impossible task, he feels exhausted. He made such a mess. It’s everywhere. All on his hand, on the sheets, on you; you’re lying there looking so fucking pretty, breathing like you’ve just finished a race, and your belly is pearlescent with his cum, and all he wants to do is go to sleep. 

But you half-sit up and reach out to him, taking hold of his wrist, now. He lets you (he’d let you do anything in these afterglow moments, and he knows that you know it too), softening the muscles in his arm to straighten at the elbow, and he watches you. Watches you drag your tongue over the skin between his thumb and his pointer finger. Watches as you lap up and swallow back the cum he was about to get up to wipe up with a tissue. Watches as you clean up every trace he left of his orgasm on his own hand, before you flop back onto the pillows, giggling and licking over your kiss-swollen lips. 

He almost feels like he could get hard again at the sight of it. But — much to his own dismay — Seungkwan’s refractory period has never been quick. Even if he did pop another hard-on right now, he knows he’d be way too sensitive to do anything with it. 

“You can’t do that to me,” he pouts, leaning over you to the bedside cabinet to grab a few tissues to start cleaning you up. “Not without a warning.”

"A warning wouldn't help and you know it," you tease him. He gives a 'hmmph', pulling a few free from the box and rolling his eyes as you squirm, ticklish when he starts to wipe his release from you. “You’d whine about it anyway.”

“I don’t whine,” he-… well. “Come on. Get up — bathroom, baby.”

You think that this is supposed to be distracting, to stop you being able to call him out for his immediate contradiction. On the other hand, maybe this is just his way of looking after you — it could be both, even. But you reach both arms up, first, silently asking him to come down to you one more time. He does, rolling his eyes and meeting you in another kiss, the tissues still scrunched up in his palm.

“Two minutes?” You ask, locking him into a cuddle he could probably escape from, if his strength ever happened to overpower the love he has for you. Yet, he rolls onto his back and tosses the tissues with alarming accuracy into the bin next to your dresser, pulling you into his chest.

“One and a half,” he agrees, nodding up at the ceiling.

He can never say no to you. Not especially when you hum into his collarbone and drag your fingers down his arm to take hold of his (clean) hand.

thank u sm for reading!! as always, likes, reblogs & feedback are all greatly appreciated.<3

[ellethespaceunicorn]

An Angel Without Wings

Title: An Angel Without Wings

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Frank Castle x Unnamed!Black!OFC

Fandom: The Punisher

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: When she needs him to take control, he’s there for her.

Warnings: pet name (Angel), Sir kink, male!Dom/fem!Sub, slight hair pulling, spanking, vaginal fingering, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids, aftercare

A/N: I’ve never written for Frank Castle. But I had a dream about him out of nowhere. And now you get fic loosely based on that dream. So, yeah. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

The jingle of keys in the front door alerts her to his arrival. Her knees ache from where she kneels on the hardwood flooring. Gooseflesh appears everywhere her leather and mesh lingerie set doesn’t cover. In her outstretched hands is her collar, a thin piece of black leather with a dangling tag that reads Angel. She keeps her eyes downcast until she has permission to look upon him. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices her in the dimly lit apartment. He doesn’t acknowledge her at first. He sets his keys down on the table by the door, toes off his boots, and hangs his jacket on the coat rack. Turning around slowly, he pushes up the sleeves of his henley and walks towards her.

Studying her face, he can tell she longs for this. She wants to relinquish control, but more importantly, she needs him to take it from her. 

Coming to a standstill in front of her, he looks over her body as her eyes stay on the space between them. He picks up the collar and bends forward to secure it around her neck before walking around and placing his hands on her shoulders. Her smooth brown skin under his calloused tan hands is a stark contrast.

“Who are you?” His gruff voice fills the empty room.

“Angel,” she says, placing the backs of her hands on her thighs. She stares at her palms.

“That’s right. Who am I?” He asks, hooking a finger under one bra strap and sliding it across her skin.

“Sir,” she replies.

“Good girl. Now, do you remember our system?” He challenges, the pad of one thumb pressing into the side of her neck as his fingers move to wrap around.

“Green for go. Yellow for slow down. Red for stop, Sir,” she breathes, lifting her chin slightly as his hand closes around her throat.

Leaning forward, he whispers in her ear, “That’s my sweet Angel. I wanna see this pretty little thing you’re wearing for me. Stand up.”

“Yes, Sir,” she answers, raising her body to her full height while Frank mirrors her movement. She stands in front of him, close enough to feel his body heat on her back. Close enough that his breath on her neck makes her shiver.

With his left hand still around her throat, his right hand is left to explore her body. He can feel her pulse quickening under his thumb, relishing his effect on her. 

He closes the small gap between them and toys with the waistband of her thong. His fingers follow from her thong to the garter belt she is wearing, the thick mesh straps connecting to a strip of leather sitting perfectly around her curvy thighs. He switches directions, his hand ghosting over her fabric-covered mound on its way past her tummy to her pendulous breasts that are accentuated by the mesh bra with cutouts. Groping each breast, he gives them both ample attention. Sliding his thumb back and forth against the nipples, he grows harder at the sound of her whimpers. 

Loosening his grip on her throat even further, he nudges her shoulder to turn around. Once turned, he tangles a hand in her curls. Tightening his hand, he forces her to finally look at him by tilting her head. Her big brown eyes display her vulnerability, her desire, and her willingness to submit to him.

He runs the back of his knuckles softly against her face from cheek to jawline, grabbing her chin with his thumb and forefinger. Lowering his head a centimeter, he brushes his lips against hers before taking the lead in a heart-stopping kiss. He licks inside her mouth and massages her tongue with his. Feeling her knees start to buckle, he slows the kiss and steps away from her.

She follows his movement as he steps up to the couch and sits dead center. He pats his thighs, and she knows to assume “the position”. Climbing on top of him, she lays across his lap with her ass up in the air.

Running a hand over her exposed globes, he speaks lowly to her. “My sweet Angel has the smoothest skin. And the sound it makes when I-,” He raises his hand, and it lands with a SMACK, “-hit it just right? Perfection.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she breathes, panting just slightly.

Frank adjusts himself so that she feels his growing length against her abdomen. When he feels her pushing her ass into his hand again, he lands a healthy SMACK on both cheeks. With both hands, he parts her ass and runs a thumb over the dampening gusset of her thong.

“Mmmm, gettin’ wet already for me, huh? Let’s see what happens when I lay down a few more spanks then,” he hums, putting one hand on her back while the other begins a rhythm of SMACK after SMACK after SMACK. From one cheek to the other, he delivers blow after blow until she pipes up.

“Yellow, Sir!” She sniffles, her hands grabbing onto the couch cushion.

“Good girl, Angel,” Frank says, lightly soothing her ass with slow strokes of his hand. He runs his fingers over the now-soaked center of her mesh panties. Frank groans and moves her underwear to the side, so he has access to her wet little pussy. 

With two fingers, he slides into her core, stretching her out. She moans and grinds her hips, he scissors her open. Wet, squelching noises fill the room as he adds another finger, massaging her swollen clit with his thumb. He picks up speed as her walls start to twitch around his digits.

“That’s it, Angel. Cum for me, baby,” he urges, his gravelly voice rumbling through his chest. “You can do it, Angel. Soak my fingers, girl.”

Within seconds, her heat clamps down on his fingers as she reaches her peak. Shuddering as she cums, she whimpers as he works her through her orgasm. Mumbled nonsense spills from her mouth as she tries her hardest to thank Frank for the earth-shattering climax.

Once she is calmed down from her intense high, Frank picks her up as he stands and walks to their bedroom. Laying her down softly, he steps back and unzips his pants, and pulls out his cock and balls. His uncut hard-on stands proudly as his heavy sac hangs under it. 

She licks her lips and moves to the edge of the bed on her hands and knees. Before she can reach out a hand to his dick, he shakes his head and chuckles. 

“Nah. Not tonight, baby. I’m already close to blowin’. If you get that perfect little mouth on me, it’s over. Now, turn around and get that ass over here,” he directs, watching as a sly smile appears on her face.

As soon as she is turned around, Frank grabs her hips and pulls her to him. Using one hand to press her face-down into the mattress, he uses the other to line himself up to her slick center. He slides into her warmth and lets out a grunt as he settles inside her.

Retracting his hips slowly, he leaves just the tip in for a second until he slams back in. Thrusting once, twice, three times; he sets an unremitting pace. Her moans are music to his ears as he plunges over and over into her tight slit. 

Her womanhood drools over his shaft as he reaches a hand down to play with her puffy pearl. Overcome with her impending fall over the edge, she tightens her fists into the bedsheets and lets out a wail as her depths flutter around his thick girth.

“Ohhhh fuuuuuuck, Angel. That’s it! Just like that, gimme that good shit, baby,” he rambles on, chasing his release as he fucks her through hers. “Argh, fuck! I’m gonna fill you up, Angel. Beg me for it.”

“Please, Sir! Please fill me up! I need you; I need you so bad,” she gushes, so blissfully fucked out that she would do anything for Frank at this moment.

“That’s my Angel. Ugh fuck!” Frank fucks into her one last time, his cockhead poking at her sensitive cervix. As he spills inside her, he huffs every time his dick spasms.

She sighs as her body accepts his load, a hazy smile on her face. 

Frank pulls out, watching as his jizz tries to escape. He uses a finger to catch his spend and push it back inside her. Tucking himself away, he helps her lay down with her head against the pillows before lying next to her. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, and she cuddles into his side. Kissing the top of her head, he also gives her a quick squeeze.

They are quiet for a moment until she speaks, “Thank you, Frankie. Fuck, I needed that.”

“Anytime, baby. You know I’m here for you. Anything you need. All you gotta do is ask, and I’ll come running,” he confesses, smiling down at her when she looks up at him. “Now, don’t get too comfy. We’re gonna take a bath together so I can soothe those sore muscles.”

“Frankie, how did I get so lucky to have a man like you?” Her big brown eyes focus on him while her hand cradles his face.

He chuckles before replying, “Nah, I’m the lucky one. You love me with your whole heart, you lift me on my hardest days, and the way you look at me like I hung the damn moon? You’re a saint, my Angel.”

She leans up on one elbow, looking at Frank with unshed tears. “You think you don’t do the same? Please, baby. You are my heart, my love, my everything. You came home from what I assume was most likely a hard day, and you dropped everything to give me what I needed. You, Frank Castle, are the real angel here. One of those cool, brooding angels without wings.”

“An angel without wings, huh? Sounds kinda badass, honestly,” he jokes, leaning up to place a chaste kiss on her lips before getting out of bed. He walks around to where she sits on the edge with her legs dangling. She smiles at him and swats his hands away when he tries to pick her up again.

He raises his hands in defeat and follows her as she walks into the bathroom. They get undressed as the clawfoot tub fills with warm water and lavender-scented bubbles. Frank helps her step in and then slides in behind her.

Washing her body, he massages her favorite body wash into her flesh. She returns the favor, and they exit the tub. Frank wraps a towel around his hips and uses another to pat her skin lightly from head to toe. 

Once they are in pajamas and back in bed, he pulls her back into his arms. Ghosting a hand up and down her arm until her breathing settles and soft snores escape her, he can finally rest now that she is safe and sound.

A/N: Ok, this was loosely based on a dream I had about Frank Castle. It was a little bit more *insert whip sound here* in my dream, but maybe I will include that in another tale someday.

[meiliarotten]

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time Three: Return of the Kink

Day 8: Pleasure Scene (Overstimulation)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Spy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spy shows you there’s more than one way to he dominated.

Tags: Overstimulation, bondage, scene negotiation, toys, sub/dom, aftercare

Word Count: 3.5k

The Masterlist

“So, what would you like me to do to you?”

Spy spoke so casually, no matter the subject. Even when delivering one-liners in battle, he could almost come off as bored. Perhaps it was an intimidation tactic that he didn't know how to turn off. Whatever it was, it certainly didn’t make it any easier for you to figure out his true intentions.

“Are you trying to tease me?” you asked, prepared to get up and leave if this whole thing turned out to be some joke at your expense.

“Not at all,” he said, lighting a cigarette before offering one to you. You declined, but something about the gesture seemed genuine enough to make you believe him. “I simply want to figure out what you would like to get out of this experience.”

You furrowed your brow. This was strange. That was the only way you could describe it. Everything about this situation was incredibly strange. When you first took this job, you never imagined that it would lead you here- sitting in Spy’s smoking room, negotiating a scene.

A few nights ago, somewhere between your fourth and fifth glass of wine, you had brought up the possibility of letting Spy dominate you. No, that was an understatement- you outright asked for Spy to dominate you. He was handsome, charismatic, and you knew you would enjoy being under his control. You woke up in your bed the next day, a blanket haphazardly thrown over you, and before the regret could even set in, Spy came to your room asking if you were serious. Sure enough, the scenario that you outlined through a slurred, drunken confession was just as alluring to your sober self.

“I don’t like pain,” you finally said, deciding to focus on what you definitely didn’t want before trying to determine what you did.

Spy nodded, taking a drag of his cigarette and slowly exhaling the smoke. “How about pleasure?” he asked, tilting his head inquisitively.

“Well, obviously, but how are you going to dominate me with that?” you asked. “Don’t you need to, I don’t know, spank me or something?”

“Not at all. Domination comes in many different forms, ma chérie. We can work with pleasure alone.” The gears were already turning in Spy’s head, the perfect framework beginning to take shape in his mind. “Since this is your first time, we could use that as a jumping off point and simply see where the scene takes us.”

You liked that idea, finding some relief in no longer having the pressure of needing to plan out every detail from scratch. “Yeah, that sounds good,” you said, allowing yourself a soft smile. Spy mirrored your expression, taking a final drag before snuffing his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray.

“Have you picked a safeword?”

The question caught you off guard. “Oh, um- I hadn’t thought of one. How about red? Like a stoplight.”

“Perfect,” Spy said. “Many people use the stoplight system. It is easily memorized.”

The spotlight system? You hadn't even known that was a thing until Spy explained it. He stood up, beckoning for you to follow him. You were led into an offshoot of his smoking room that you had never noticed before. “Oh, wow.”

“Much nicer than a simple barracks, isn’t it, my dear?” Spy made a long, sweeping motion as he showed off his private quarters, much of which he had clearly taken the time to renovate and redecorate to his own tastes. It was like a room in a fancy hotel. That said, what surprised you the most was the massive wooden X-shaped cross that stood against the far wall, adjacent to the bed.

“So you’ve done this before?” you asked, grinning playfully. He chuckled in response.

“I have entertained a few ladies in my time. And men on occasion. Although, all that was before I took up mercenary work.” Spy glanced back at you with a smirk. “This is a Saint Andrew’s cross. It has not seen use in quite a while. I do believe you voiced some interest in bondage during our little wine induced chat, oui?”

“Yeah,” you said, blushing hard. “I sure did.”

“Would you be open to being bound to this, ma chérie?” Spy asked, motioning at the cross, which you now noticed had cuffs affixed to the top. You nodded, biting your lip nervously. “Good, but we are getting ahead of ourselves. First, I would like you to undress.”

You didn’t hesitate, stripping layers of clothing from yourself. The room was a pleasant temperature, not too cold for you. If anything it was a little warm, although that may have just been the blush in your cheeks. Once all your clothes were in a pile on the floor, Spy approached you, looking you up and down with a hungry gaze. You held your breath when he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Si belle,” he whispered. You could tell from his tone that it was a compliment.

Then, he was all business once again. “Alright, let us go over the bindings.” He guided you towards the cross, showing you how to stand against it. “I will only cuff your hands tonight. Let me know if it’s uncomfortable.”

The leather was surprisingly soft, attached to the upper corners of the cross by short chains. You tugged on them experimentally once you were secure. Everything seemed to be in order.

“Are you ready, mon ange?”

You glanced away from the cuffs and to him. His gaze was soft when it met yours. You swallowed hard, steeling your nerves one last time. “Yes sir.”

Spy took a liking to that title immediately. “Let’s start with something simple.” He turned to a nondescript dresser drawer, opening it and retrieving a small, but powerful little device. The wand toy felt lightweight in his hand, far from the bulky structure one would usually expect from a wand. “Ah yes, this will do nicely.”

With a click of a button, the toy buzzed to life. The vibrations seemed so loud, or perhaps you were just very focused on the toy. ‘That’s for me,’ you thought. ‘That’s going to be used on me.’

“I’ll press this against you, right here,” Spy said, dragging out the last two words as he slid a gloved finger over your slit. It came back slick, your arousal glistening on the leather. “Already so wet. You really need this, don’t you?”

“Yes sir!” you cried. You were far less shy about begging now.

Spy grinned wordlessly and pressed the wand against you. Immediately, you bucked against the toy, the vibrations coursing through you. “I wonder if you’ve ever felt so much pleasure that your mind went blank.” He circled your clit slowly watching your hips twitch sporadically.

“I don’t think so,” you stammered between moans.

“You are about to, ma chérie.”

His voice, low and sultry, sent a shiver up your spine. The vibrator felt so good when it was pressed firmly between your legs, massaging you perfectly. The pleasure was building fast. You had never gotten this close so quickly before.

“I want you to come for me,” Spy said. He had been watching your body language. It was obvious that you were about to fall apart.

“Already?” You looked up at him, a hint of confusion slipping through your blissed out expression.

“You agreed to be dominated by me, darling. Tonight, you will do what I want.” Spy leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “And I want you to come.”

Well, you had agreed to follow his every order. If he wanted you to come already, who were you to deny him, or yourself? You let your orgasm overtake you, warmth spreading throughout your body, muscles tightening, and soft moans spilling past your lips. You came down from your high, relaxed and dazed, as per usual, ready to bask in the afterglow, only for you to notice something strange.

The vibrator wasn’t moving. It remained steadfast against your clit, circling the bundle of nerves. “Spy- uh, sir!” You quickly corrected yourself. “Um, I finished...”

“I know.”

You blinked at him, his answer only inspiring more confusion. “Sir- Oh fuck! You can move the toy now!” Your voice was starting to betray a hint of desperation. You started to squirm, trying and failing to pull away from the relentless buzzing.

Spy looked deep in thought for a moment before he shook his head. “Non, I don’t think I will.”

“Shit,” you cursed through gritted teeth. You tried to keep your voice down but as the overstimulation really began to set in, it became a futile effort. You shuddered against the cross, torn between trying to pull away and trying to press yourself harder against the vibrator.

“I am going to wring every last orgasm I can from you. This will be so fun, darling.” A look of realization passed over you and Spy chuckled. “Now you are beginning to understand. You have never had pleasure used like this, have you? To make you submit.”

You shook your head, whimpering a soft “no sir” before your words once again became an incoherent string of moans. Every so often an intelligent word or two could be discerned, such as a final plea for mercy. “Please, it’s too much!”

“You can take it. You want to be good for me, don’t you?” Spy asked. You nodded despite the tears welling in your eyes. A faint click could be heard above the buzzing, the sound of Spy pressing a button on the toy. The vibrations intensified.

“I’m- fuck! I’m still really sensitive!” you whined, as if your complaints would bring any relief. Your legs were beginning to buckle. Thankfully you had the wrist cuffs to keep you from falling to the floor, especially when you felt Spy’s fingers brushing against your inner thigh.

“Let’s see how wet you’ve become,” he mused, slipping his fingers inside you with little resistance. You gasped at this new sensation, a welcome distraction from the relentless stimulation of the vibrator. You bit your lip hard, trying to keep your reactions in check, only for Spy to immediately bring your barriers crashing down. “You can moan for me, ma chérie. I want to hear you sing. Let me know how good it feels to have this toy pressed against your clit while my fingers pump in and out of you.”

He curled his fingers inside you, brushing against your sweet spot. You saw stars, cursing as Spy repeated that action. He was definitely aware that he found a good spot. The build up was sudden this time, an unexpected rush that barely warned of your imminent climax.

“It feels so fucking good! I’m-” you stammered uselessly, trying to say something coherent.

“You’re getting so close, I can feel it.” Spy crooked his fingers, making a come hither motion that stroked just the right spots inside you. “Come again, ma chérie.”

You wouldn’t have been able to disobey him even if you wanted to. With the dual stimulation both inside and out, you didn’t stand a chance. Your orgasm came hard, much more intense than before. Your muscles went taut and the cry that slipped past your lips seemed almost inhuman. You were still shuddering with the aftershocks when Spy pulled away. Even in the ambient light of his bedroom, you could see how his fingers and the toy glistened with your release. Your eyes widened in surprise. Fuck, you had never come hard enough to do that before.

“How are you holding up?” Spy asked, speaking as casually as if he was asking about the weather.

“This…” you began, before faltering, taking a moment to catch your breath. “This is amazing.”

Spy chuckled, taking in the vision before him. Oh, you were gone. Your eyes were glazed over with a dazed expression. You seemed far away, out of body, the poster-child of subspace. It was impressive that you had made it this far, especially given that this was your first scene.

It seemed submission came naturally to you, and Spy wondered just how deep you could go, how far he could push you. “I would like one more from you,” he whispered,

You snapped to attention, looking up at him with an expression he couldn’t quite place. It reminded him of a puppy, always so eager to please, although there was a hint of nervousness there too. “Are we going to…” you trailed off, not sure how to put it delicately. Then again, at this point, was there even a reason to try to put things delicately? Luckily, Spy seemed to understand.

“No, I’m not going to fuck you, not during your first scene.”

You didn’t know why hearing Spy use such vulgar language startled you. For some reason you had always taken him as the type of man to use some frilly, vanilla term for sex, like ‘making love.’ Then again, you kind of detested that term, so this was better. Besides, what you were doing right now certainly wasn’t vanilla by any means.

“Now, what do we have here?” You were snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of Spy’s voice. He was muttering to himself, back at the dresser once again, searching around in the same drawer. His eyes lit up when he finally found what he was looking for. “Let’s see how you handle this, my dear!”

Spy turned around to reveal a small, curved object. It was sleek and black. He held the toy in one hand and in the other he held a matching remote. “Fuck,” you whispered, feeling your arousal start to build again, even though your legs were still shaking from your previous orgasms.

“I’m guessing you know what this does?” Spy asked, smirking as he approached you. He fiddled with the remote, rubbing his thumb over the buttons as if he was itching to press them.

“Yes.” Your eyes were glued to the toy. With the way it was curved and shaped, it was obviously meant for dual stimulation. “It goes inside me.”

“You sound scared.” Spy paused, looking you over, eyes peeled for any sign of discomfort. “Can you truly handle this, ma chérie?”

“I can keep going! I want to keep going!” you responded quickly, eagerly tilting your hips forward as best as you could while still being restrained.

Spy chuckled, now reassured that the tremble in your voice was not from fear, but rather anticipation. “Very well. Allow me to just…” He trailed off as he slid the toy into you, listening to your whimpers. It was obvious that you were still quite sensitive. The toy sat snug within you, pressing against your g-spot while the smaller part curved up to rest on your clit. “Perfect. Now, let’s turn this on.”

Your reaction was immediate, feeling the toy buzz to life both inside and outside of you. A soft, keening noise caught your attention, only for you to realize that you were the one making those sounds. You had officially given up on trying to stay quiet. Your only focus now was the deep, heavy breaths that you sucked in between moans, trying and failing to keep your breathing steady as your body was ravished by the tiny device within you.

“You make such cute noises,” Spy crooned, reaching out to stroke your cheek. He smiled when you nuzzled against his hand, eager for his touch. “That’s it darling. Let it all out. No one will hear you except for me.”

Your moans resembled sobs, but your lips were still curved upwards into a giddy smile, and you hadn’t said your safeword. The only words you had said were the occasional curse or desperate cry of Spy’s name. You really were a sight to behold, writhing on the cross, legs shaking with little muscle tremors, jolting and pulling against the cuffs even as they held fast. It was a struggle for Spy to ignore his own excitement, reminding himself that this was for you.

He sated himself with the feeling of your body beneath his palms. A hand ran up your side, and you shivered when it reached your breast. You arched into his touch, showing that you were receptive. He caressed you gently, marveling at how soft and pliable you were beneath his hands. You were so responsive too, still loud as ever, but even so, Spy took notice when your moans suddenly rose in pitch. Your eyes went wide, fixed on some point beyond the two of you.

“Do you feel it building again?” Spy asked, although he didn’t expect a response from you in this state. He could practically see your mind going numb and fuzzy. “Good, that’s my beautiful girl.”

The shaking that was initially confined to your legs had spread to your whole body. What was once a pleasant, warm arousal now felt like a raging fire. You were burning up and loving every second of it. You were just barely aware of Spy speaking to you, his voice seeming far away.

“I rather like this side of you. A pleasure-drunk mess, coming undone over and over again.” He had backed away, and you had just enough awareness to whine at the loss of contact. Spy now paced back and forth in front of the cross, watching you with a wide grin. “You can’t help yourself, can you? Isn’t it nice to just lose yourself?”

Nice was an understatement. It was euphoric. You could get addicted to this feeling. Another orgasm set your nerves on fire, but you didn’t even have the energy to writhe anymore. All that your body could manage was a few involuntary twitches. Even your moans were reduced to pathetic little whimpers.

“That’s it, come nice and hard. Such an obedient little ange.” Spy wasn’t sure you were even present enough to hear him. You did have a dazed smile on your lips though, so he guessed you got the gist of it. He reached out and removed the toy, trying his best to be gentle. Almost any sensation would feel overwhelming for you right now. You were barely holding your own weight up, and Spy knew that when he undid the cuffs, you would drop. “I’m going to unfasten the straps now. Lean on me.”

Sure enough, you practically fell onto Spy. He held you upright with his arms wrapped awkwardly around your waist, guiding your nearly limp body to the bed that was thankfully only a few feet away. You laid there, looking like a proper mess. Your face was streaked with tears, and you were shivering. It was obvious that you had been through something intense. Pleasureable, but intense.

“Here, for the cold. Your body temperature may drop suddenly after running high for so long.” Spy draped a plush blanket over you. A bottle of water was also pressed into your hands. “You must drink, darling. This will help you come down from the high. I don’t want you to crash.”

“Crash?” you whispered, your voice slightly strained from how loud you had been.

Spy nodded. “Hormones are fickle things. All those endorphins need to even out. You may feel anxious, guilty, or even scared.”

Ah, so this was aftercare. You took a sip of water, which quickly turned into you chugging half the bottle. Fuck, you were thirsty. Apparently sobbing through multiple orgasms could be quite dehydrating. Spy sat beside you on the bed, smiling as you curled up beneath the blanket.

“So, what did you think, ange?”

“It was nice, really nice,” you said, trying to put your feelings into words. “I didn’t realize how intense things would get, but I liked it.” You fiddled with the edges of the blanket before bringing a hand up to your face, feeling some residual dampness on your cheeks. Your smile dropped slightly. “Is it weird that I cried? I didn’t even realize I was doing it at the time.”

“Not at all. It’s a very common response to overstimulation, actually.” Spy said. That made you feel a little better.

“Could you hold me?” you asked suddenly, reaching your arms out. “Just for a bit.”

“Darling, I’ll hold you all night if that is what you desire.” He scooped you up, letting your body lean on his and making sure you were still wrapped up nicely in the blanket. Your body felt heavy as you melted into his embrace. Spy smiled down at you. “You look as if you could fall asleep right here.”

“Is that alright?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of kicking you out now,” Spy said, sounding baffled at the very concept. He ran a hand over your back as you made yourself comfortable, your eyes already drifting shut. “Sleep well, ange.” After a few minutes, Spy sat up, making sure not to stir you from your slumber. He had promised to hold you close for the night, and he would, but there was some clean up to be done first. He got to work, knowing that the sooner he finished the sooner he could rejoin you, safe and secure in his bed.

[bunny7567]

I got you - chapter 9

Pairing: Rex x Jedi!ofc

Word count: 7.2k Tags/Warnings: canon-typical violence; animal attack and pretty detailed description of killing an animal in self-defense; heavy drinking; 1 mention of underage drinking; Echo needs a hug; Fives would love Chappell Roan, I will not take any criticism on that; Rex gets jelly; some angst and fluff; am i coming out through this fanfic? maybe, don't tell my family; implied emetophobia

Previous chapter | Next chapter

k'uur -  Hush, Be quiet osik - crap, shit Ori'haat - It's the truth, I swear - no bull Di’kut - idiot Vod’ika - little brother, little sister Vode – brothers, sisters Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod? - Are you looking for a smack in the face, mate?

~~~

Lexie was running through the thick forest on the planet Garronn, Fives and Echo close behind her. Her feet were aching and the humid air was making it difficult to keep her breathing under control. They had just been on Felucia a few rotations before this mission and Lexie cursed the fact that they’ve left one jungle planet just to end up on another one.

They needed to reach the pick-up point and they needed to reach it fast if there was any hope of escaping this kriffin’ world during this rotation. There was no telling when another extraction team could get there, the 104th could not remain in the Garro system too long, they were lucky enough as it was they had been close enough to contact in the first place.

The whole mission had been such a shitshow. The lead they were chasing turned out to be a complete bust, Cad Bane had not chosen the Force-sensitive youngling on Garronn as his target. Or maybe Anakin had already intercepted him on Naboo, or he’d been apprehended by Obi-Wan on Rodia. Lexie had no way of knowing, their long-range comms had been scrambled since the moment they landed on the planet.

Lexie did however encounter a small Separatist presence the Republic had not been aware of and, without guidance from the Council, she and the men made the decision to destroy the outpost by themselves. A decision she deeply regretted about now, as they were trying to escape the commando droids chasing them through the jungle. Another bad call as a general.

She really was grateful that Anakin had insisted she took some troopers with her when they split up but, in hindsight, she should’ve listened to him and taken an entire squad with her, it could have made things a bit easier. She doubted she would’ve made it out of that outpost if it wasn’t for Fives and Echo’s assists and she also would not have a way off of this planet had Echo not managed to highjack the outpost comms and contact the 104th.

They really were good, she could finally see why Rex was so proud of the two troopers. This was the first missions where they had worked so closely together, she realised.

“How much left?”, Lexie yelled over her shoulder.

“Two klicks Sir”, Echo’s helmet modulated voice responded.

“I think we lost them”, Fives announced, glancing behind him.

“Finally some good kriffin news”, she said.

The three of them came to an abrupt halt as they reached a steep ravine.

“Fastest route is through down there”, Lexie said after checking the holo-map, and motioned for the two troopers to go on.

The men started the descent before her, Lexie staying on top to make sure the droids would not catch up with them again. Suddenly she felt a shift in the Force and her senses were flooded by an urgent feeling of dread. Her troopers were in danger.

“Echo!”, she heard Fives scream as she jumped down into the ravine, using the Force to control her fall.

As soon as she landed she pulled out her lightsabers, igniting the yellow blades. Fives was shooting his blaster at a massive serpent-like creature, but she couldn’t see Echo anywhere. She looked through the Force, she could feel him, he was still alive, but where? She looked at Fives for an answer. She felt anger, fear and sadness surround his Force signature.

“That thing ate him!”, Fived yelled.

Her head snapped back to the creature and she recognised the species. Garronnian serpent, thank the Force. They swallow their prey whole and digest it over the course of 10 rotations. Once they ingest their prey, though, they become a lot more aggressive. The serpent lunged at her as she attempted to run towards it and she had to jump out of the way. She had to find a way get close to it in order to get Echo out.

“Try and keep it distracted”, she told Fives.

Fives started yelling and moving his hands around, getting the serpent to switch its focus to him. Lexie closed her eyes and tried to locate where Echo was in its body, she had to be careful not to injure him as she tried to get him out. Her mind scanned over the creature and she quickly knew where to cut.

“General…”, Fives’ concerned voice pleaded for her help.

The creature was towering over him, jaw wide open as it prepared to launch an attack. Lexie swiftly jumped in front of Fives using the saber in her left hand to slash vertically into the creature’s belly. The serpent spluttered, moving frantically before hitting the ground. A green, slimy liquid poured from the evisceration site, drenching Lexie and Fives. The smell was absolutely repugnant.

“Help me get him out”, Lexie yelled at Fives as she tried to resist gagging. 

The two rushed to the now dead serpent. They could already see Echo’s hand coming out through the gash and Fives hurried to pull his brother all the way out while Lexie used the Force to widen the opening. Fives fell backwards with Echo landing on top of him as he was finally yanked free from the serpent’s belly. Lexie rushed to them, helping them back to their feet.

“Are you good, vod?”, Fives asked.

Echo slowly nodded and took off his helmet. He was also covered in the slimy liquid and looked extremely nauseous. Lexie’s stomach turned as she watched him gag.

“Don’t you fucking dare throw up”, she warned him. Both men gave her a confused look. “If you throw up, I will throw up. And if you make me throw up I will kill you, do you understand?”

“Y-Yes, Sir”, Echo struggled to respond.

“Put that helmet back and let’s get the kriff out of here before any more of those things show up”, she said through gritted teeth, trying not to gag herself. The smell was undeniably foul.

The 104th was forced to move out of the sector earlier than expected, but fortunately Master Plo Koon was able to spare two pilots and a Nu-class shuttle in order to extract and transport Lexie, Echo and Fives back to Coruscant. It unfortunately meant that they were not able to properly clean the serpent guts off of themselves for the duration of the flight, something that prompted Warthog to not so politely ban all three of them from entering the cockpit.

Lexie was leaned forward on her seat, elbows resting on her thighs, absentmindedly picking at the skin around her fingernails as her mind darted over the last rotations. She had made so many mistakes. Again. From their ship getting blown up by the Seppies, to the failed attempt at destroying the outpost and barely making it out alive, to the damn encounter with that giant serpent, it seemed that every single decision she had made during this mission had been the wrong one. All the confidence in herself that Rex had been helping her build over the last months was rapidly starting to crumble.

“Are you alright, General?”, Echo asked her.

He was sat across from her, helmet rested on his lap. Next to him Fives appeared to be asleep, eyes closed and head leaned back, his helmet discarded on the floor by his feet. They had barely slept since landing on Garronn, so she was surprised to see Echo was awake.

“Yeah I’m just… replaying the mission in my head”, she said quietly.

She wasn’t doing a very good job of masking her emotions. But he had also been getting really good at picking up on her distress over the last few months and was almost as skilled as Rex when it came to encouraging or comforting her.

“We got out alive, that’s all that matters”, he tried to reassure her.

“Barely. I almost got you two killed”, she retorted.

“We all agreed to destroy the outpost. Yes, we should’ve done some more recon first but we still needed to infiltrate it regardless, to comm for the extraction if nothing else”.

“Yeah well, an infiltration mission is completely different. And something I could have done myself without putting you two at risk. I just think Rex will be very disappointed with my decision making”. She regretted that last part as soon as she said it. Why would she admit to thinking about him, to caring about his opinion in front of Echo, in front of anyone?

“Like you could ever do anything wrong in his eyes”, Fives piped up. Turns out he wasn’t sleeping after all even if his eyes were still closed.

“What do you mean?”, Lexie asked narrowing her eyes.

“I mean he basically idolises you. Won’t shut up about what a great Jedi and general you are. It’s always General Khalla this, General Khalla that. It’s a bit annoying sometimes actually”, he said, opening his eyes to look at her, a sly smile on his face.

“Fives, k'uur!”, Echo interjected, giving his brother a look. He and the others all believed the Captain had a crush on Lexie, but straight up letting her know about it wasn’t right.

“What? you know it’s true”, Fives defended, looking at Echo before turning his head back to Lexie. “Even after that first mission when everyone jumped to the worst conclusions he held firm. Would immediately shift the conversation to how you saved his life on Geonosis. All I’m saying is you shouldn’t worry about disappointing him, he thinks everything you do is perfect”.

Lexie just started at him for a moment, unsure of how she could even reply to all that. She decided to laugh it off, but she kept thinking about it for the remainder of their flight. Was it true? Had she somehow tricked Rex into thinking she was this perfect Jedi? She felt guilt creeping inside her. No one should ever idolise her, she wasn’t good enough, she wasn’t strong enough or smart enough to warrant that in the slightest. She will end up letting him down, just like she let down her master, like she let down Anakin on Geonosis, like she let down her mother…

The sun had set right before the three arrived back at the barracks. As they walked away from the landing platform and into the hangar, Lexie could see the clones close by scrunching their noses and turning away from them in reaction to the rancid, rotting smell that was very much still covering the trio. She couldn’t wait to get in the shower and change her clothes. A thought came into her head, wondering if she’d even be able to get the smell out of her clothes or if she should just burn them.

“I need a fucking drink”, Lexie mumbled.

Echo and Fives were right behind and heard her. The two exchanged a look, a question and an answer wordlessly being communicated between them.

“Do you want to come to the 79s with us, Sir?”, Fives asked.

Lexie stopped and turned to look at them, gauging to see if it was a genuine invitation or something they were saying out of obligation. The impropriety of the situation briefly flashed through her mind before it was quickly dismissed. They had already had drinks together, a bit over a month ago in the fresher while Echo dyed her hair, as well as the following day. But she had not been back at the 79s since that night when she first met them. Were the other Jedi going out drinking with their troopers? What would her Master think?

Kriff it.

“I’d like that. After I take like 10-15 showers though”, she replied with a chuckle.

“Agreed”, Echo laughed. “Should we meet outside the barracks in an hour then, General?”

 “Sounds good. But I do have one condition”, she said looking both men in the eye. “You drop the banthashit formalities and call me Lexie”.

Echo nodded and smiled. Fives draped an arm around her shoulders as they resumed walking, heading to the lifts.

 “More than happy to, Lexie”, he said with a grin.

The 79s was not as crowded as the first time Lexie had been there. But then again, it was still fairly early. She knew for a fact a lot of the men from the 501st were just about now finishing running drills, supervised by Rex. She had asked Appo where everyone was after she, Echo and Fives ran into him by the lifts, and he had informed them of the training session that was supposed to run until at least 20:00 hours. The sergeant declined to get into the same lift as them, for obvious reasons.

Lexie thought about stopping by the training level to say hello to Rex, but that was not something she should do while still covered in rancid serpent slime. She hoped she’d have time before heading to the cantina, but she had spent so long washing, and rewashing every part of her body, she had actually been 15 minutes late meeting the boys in front of the barracks as planned. She had thrown on a long-sleeved black tulle dress with black velvet flowery patters and spent a little too long on her eyeliner. Her blue hair was left untied, still a little damp from the shower. But she could swear she still had not gotten the smell out…

She followed Echo and Fives to an empty booth a bit further away from the bar. There were still plenty to choose from, both on the ground floor they were on and upstairs, so Lexie concluded this must be where they usually sit. Echo slid in first, followed by Fives and lastly her. She spotted “501” scratched into one corner of the table and decided she had been correct. She chuckled as she noticed a crossed out “104” right above it, and another, smaller one, also crossed out, on the other corner. On the leg of the table she could also see a few crossed out “212s”, “41s” and also “501s”.

 “The seating situation is a little tricky here. There’s a bit of a passive-aggressive war between the battalions over certain tables”, Echo informed her, having noticed her chuckle.

“Yeah, this is one of the best ones, cause it’s bigger and you have a really good view of the dancefloor. So it’s the preferred location for checking out all the ladies before making a move”, Fives continued. Lexie laughed and Echo shook his head in amusement.

“So what are we starting with? Shots?”, Echo asked, bringing his hands in front of him in a slow clap.

“Shots are good”, Lexie said.

 Fives signalled one of the droid waitresses and ordered three rounds of shots for the table. Since the cantina was still fairly empty it didn’t take long until a tray of small glasses was placed on the table in front of them. The liquid inside was bright orange.

“Care to make a toast, Lexie? Since it’s your first proper night out with us”, Fives said while nudging her slightly with his elbow.

She thought for a second then raised one of the shot glasses.

“Here’s to Echo not being eaten by a giant snake ever again”, she said with a teasing smile, looking him straight in the eyes.

“I’ll kriffin drink to that”, Echo replied only half-amused.

They clinked the glasses and threw back the shots. The sweet, fruity liqueur slowly slid down Lexie’s throat, leaving a pleasant warmth behind. She didn’t remember having this type of shot before and made a mental note of the name. They drank the second and third shot soon after, the warmth of the liqueur intensifying in her throat.

“So what do you boys usually drink when you come here?”, she asked them.

“Tevraki whiskey or ale”, Echo replied.

 “But we can wait and order more drinks later. Don’t want you getting too drunk on us, Lexie”, Fives said teasingly.

“Honey I am Seccayan. I can drink you under the table”, Lexie scoffed.

 “I’d like to see you try”, Fives said, turning his body so he could face her better.

“Is that a dare?”, she asked, feeling her competitive nature bubble up to the surface.

“Yes”.

 “Aright. You’re on”.

 Echo shook his head in amused disbelief.

“Alright. Well, we need some ground rules. We have to drink the same amount of drinks, at least a minimum, it’s not fair otherwise, like if you only have one-two more the rest of the night while I have five”.

“I agree. Let’s settle on a minimum number then”

“Let’s say seven”, Fives said after a second of thinking.

“Seven? That’s all? Honey I had seven glasses of Secca wine when I was 9 years old and left unsupervised during a wedding reception. That is nothing”.

“Then it should be no issue”, he said with a sly smile, while gesturing for the droid to come take their order again. “Three glasses of Tevraki whiskey, and make them double”.

“I did not agree to be part of your alcohol poisoning game”, Echo said as the droid left.

 “Then you can keep count for us”, Lexie said with a smile. Echo shook his head with a laugh.

The droid returned with their drinks and they clinked them again before each taking a sip. The warmth of the whiskey was stronger than the shots had been, spreading through her entire body. The taste wasn’t too bad, very bitter-sweet. It wasn’t her favourite drink but she didn’t hate it either.

Two glasses of Tevraki later, Lexie began to feel the buzz of alcohol, and found herself laughing and talking louder than before. She really enjoyed being in the company of Echo and Fives, both men had a great sense of humour, Echo’s a bit drier, and conversation was flowing smoothly.

“You cannot shorten an already shortened name”, Lexie told Fives with frustration.

 “Yes I can. Lex”, he had been calling her that for the past 20 minutes. “It’s a form of endearment”, he said with a sweet smile.

“But Lexie is already short for Alexis. You can't just shorten it even more”.

“Yes I can”, he said stubbornly, tilting her head towards hers.

“Ok fine! That's it. Five. That ‘s’ in your name? Revoked. You're just five now”, she said, throwing her hands into the air in an exaggerated movement.

“Fine by me, Lex”, Fives said. Echo was quietly laughing at them.

“There you lot are”, a voice came from outside their booth.

 Lexie turned her head and saw Jesse, Kix and Hardcase. They seemed surprised to find her there, offering her respectful nods and an almost collective “General” greeting.

Jesse sat down next to her, while the other two slid in next to Echo, who had to shift more to the centre of the u-shaped bench. This caused Fives to shift closer than actually needed to Lexie, pressing his arm into hers. He wasn’t wearing the upper part of his armor so she could feel the firm muscles under his blacks.

She didn’t mind, the two of them had been getting a little flirtier with each other as they kept drinking, but it was just in good fun. She wasn’t going to let anything actually happen, but she did plan on enjoying the flirty banter for longer.

“When did you return from your mission, General?”, Kix asked her.

“Oh, no no. We’re not doing the ‘General’ osik tonight. Call me Lexie. All of you”, she said as she looked at the three new additions to their table. They nodded and smiled in agreement. “We got back a few hours ago. Had to head straight for the showers before coming here. It was not a fun mission”.

“Yeah, Echo got eaten by a snake”, Fives quipped.

“He what?”, Hardcase asked laughing.

“Ori'haat”, Fives said.

“Can we not talk about it? It was actually really kriffin traumatising”, Echo said a little defensively.

“Aww don’t worry vod’ika. You can sleep in my bunk if you get scared during the night”, Fives teased, leaning closer to his brother and ruffling his hair with a hand.

“Kriff off, Fives”, Echo said, shoving him away. The sudden movement made Fives slam against Lexie’s side, pushing her into Jesse, who was in his full kit.

“Boys, come on. Not wearing armor here”, she said with a laugh, rubbing her right arm.

 “Sorry, Lexie”, Echo said.

“Nice going di'kut”, Fives said, smacking the back of Echo’s head.

 “Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?”, Echo threatened.

 “Okay”, Lexie said lifting from her seat and placing her hands on the table, employing the same tone of voice she used when breaking up disagreements between rowdy younglings at the Temple. “Kix switch with Echo”, she ordered. The two men shuffled awkwardly and switched places. Kix was now placed as a buffer between Fives and Echo.

 “Now… more shots?”, Lexie asked sitting back down.

  “More shots”, Fives agreed with a smile.

Two rounds of shots were ordered for the entire table. Laughter and loud conversation followed. Lexie’s cheeks were starting to be flushed from the alcohol and she rolled up the sleeves of her dress. Hardcase was complaining loudly about all the drills Rex had them run that day and Lexie fought against the urge to ask where he was now and if he was planning on joining them at the 79s. From what she could gather, he was either with Cody, or planned to meet him. Another glass of whiskey was placed in front of her by Fives.

 Her attention was caught by Jesse, who reached over her to nudge Fives and pointed in the direction of the bar. A tall, purple-skinned Twi'lek woman was leaning over the bar, trying to get the attention of the server. Her lekku was covered with strings of sparkling yellow beads that perfectly complemented the bandeau top and short skirt she was wearing. She was stunning.

 Fives wolf-whistled. “I wouldn’t mind going home with her tonight”.

“You and me both”, Lexie accidentally said out loud before taking a sip from her drink.

 Fives and Jesse’s heads quickly snapped from the woman to look at her, an expression of surprise on their faces. On the other side of the table she saw Hardcase tilting his head in confusion, having stopped mid-sentence in his story about one of the training simulations.

“What? I’m bi”, she said nervously. She took a bigger sip of her drink, realisation hitting her that she had never said that out loud to anyone before.

She could practically see the wheels turning in their heads and she rolled her eyes. Men.

Jesse let out a “huh” sound and raised his eyebrows a little. She turned her head to look at Fives. You didn’t even need to be Jedi in order to tell exactly what was going on inside his head, his wide eyes and the stupid grin on his face were doing all the talking.

 “I will not have a threesome with you, do not even ask”, she told him.

 “I thought you said you couldn’t read our minds”, he quipped.

“I don’t kriffin’ need to, nor want to. Whatever thoughts are running through your horny man brain right now just keep them to yourself”, she said gesturing to his head. “That goes for all of you”, she continued, turning to look at Jesse then at Hardcase and Kix, who also had a little surprised smile in the corner of his lips. She was glad to know at least Echo didn’t care about it. He gave her an apologetic smile.

“Well do you want to have a go at it, Lexie, or could I?”, Jesse asked with a chuckle.

“Considering she came to a clone bar by herself I don’t think I’d get anywhere but thanks for asking”, she replied with a laugh.

“Maybe we should let Echo have a go. We still need to get him laid”, Hardcase said, elbowing Echo in the ribs.

Echo looked uncomfortable and shot Hardcase a pointed look while nursing his side. Lexie was about to open her mouth to tell Hardcase to mind his business, but Fives beat her to it.

 “No we don’t. Echo doesn’t want that”, he stood up for his brother.

 “Why?”, Hardcase asked confused.

 “I’m just not into that”, Echo said firmly.

 Lexie caught his eyes and gave him an encouraging smile.

 “Well, less competition for us then”, Jesse shrugged before he got up from the booth and started making his way over to the Twi'lek woman.

“Be respectful and use protection”, Lexie yelled after him, making him turn to give her a look. She and Fives started laughing.

 The 79s was more crowded now, and loud music had replaced the pod racing that was being shown on the holoscreens when they had arrived. The alcohol in her system was making her sway with the music. How many drinks had she even drunk so far? Eight? She downed the remaining liqueur in her glass and leaned more into Fives’ side.

 “Kinda wish I was dancing”, she mumbled.

“We could go dancing”, Fives said, tilting his head towards her.

“We could go dancing!”, Lexie repeated with a grin, meeting his eyes.

She and Fives got up and started heading to the fairly crowded dance floor. She paused and turned gesturing for the others to come as well. Hardcase didn’t waste any time to get up from his seat but Kix and Echo declined, saying they would join later.

The music was loud and energetic and Lexie started moving with the beat. It had been too long since she’d gone dancing she realised, not since before Geonosis. She loved it, she loved moving with the music and singing along with the songs she knew. It felt reinvigorating. She felt confident when dancing, even if she wasn’t sure she was too good at it. But she had drunk enough not to worry at all about how she looked.

She was dancing next to Fives and Hardcase, and were soon joined by Jesse, who had not had any luck with the Twi'lek woman. After two songs she walked back to the booth and dragged Echo and Kix out and to the dancefloor.

Echo was a surprisingly good dancer she discovered, always on rhythm. Hardcase tended to move a bit too fast regardless of the pace of the song. Jesse had draped an arm across Kix’s shoulder, trying to get the medic to unwind a bit more and jump up and down with him. He then placed his other arm over Lexie’s shoulder and the three of them jumped around to the song. Fives was also a good dancer, but he kept “accidentally” bumping into her every now and then; at one point he took her arm and twirled her.

The next song was one that she knew and really liked and so she started singing along to the lyrics. Fives apparently knew the song too and joined in. The two of them were facing each other, all smiles as they sang along. But baby, I like flirting, a lover by my side/Can't be a good, good girl even if I tried.

Fives stepped closer to her, he knew the song, he was waiting for his moment. I really want your hands on my body/A slow dance, baby, let's get it on. He placed his hands on her hips, pulling her close to him. Lexie laughed and placed her hands on his shoulders. He was getting bolder, but she was enjoying it.

Fives pulled here even closer to him, her hips pressed against his own. Lexie instinctively moved against the plastoid of his codpiece, causing him to sharply inhale at the small friction. She should stop, things were getting a bit too heated. But she really was having so much fun.

She rotated herself so that her back was now pressed against his chest, but his hands were still on her hips, swaying them with the music. She raised her arm up and behind her, hand resting on the back of Fives’ head, fingers grasping his hair. She felt his hot breath on the side of her neck as he lowered his head closer to hers. The song ended but they continued dancing in the same position for the next one as well.

“I think we’re in trouble”, he said in her ear before jerking his head towards their table.

Kix and Hardcase had sat back down, taking a break from dancing, but what Fives was referring to was the clone standing in front of the table, glaring at them.

Rex.

The smile left Lexie’s lips as she watched him make his way towards them and she felt Fives’ hands quickly let go of her body. He looked angry.

 “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”, the Captain snarled at Fives as he stopped in front of them. “That is your superior officer”.

“Rex chill, we were just dancing”, Lexie tried to intervene.

Rex flinched at the use of his name. That was not something that Lexie ever did in front of the men. His eyes quickly darted from Fives to Echo and Jesse, who were close by and had stopped dancing to watch the scene unfold.

“General, do really you think it’s appropriate?”, he retorted.

“We have the night off and I’m having some fun. I don’t see anything wrong with it”, she scoffed.

“But you’re a Jedi, this is not how you should behave”.

Lexie’s eyes went wide at his condescension. Deep down she knew he was probably right, but the last days had been so stressful, all she had wanted was to just forget about everything and enjoy herself. And it had been working up until then, pretending to be a regular person, drinking and dancing with friends, and not someone who was responsible for the lives of hundreds of soldiers and for the winning or losing of battles that threatened the Republic itself. Lexie was now furious and it was visible all over her face. She took a step closer to Rex.

 “I am not responsible for falling from a pedestal that you have placed me on”, she said bitterly, jabbing a finger at his chestplate. “I deserve to unwind and have fun just as much as anyone else, even if that doesn’t meet your kriffin’ standards. Do you know how astonishingly bad our mission was? Echo was eaten by a kriffin’ snake. He was eaten! I had to cut him out of its stomach. And I got covered in disgusting, rancid serpent guts in the process. I can still fucking smell it in my hair. I deserve to unwind after the shitshow that was the last three days. So if you’ll excuse me, Captain, I will continue doing just that”.

Rex clenched his jaw. What could he even reply to all that? She turned away from him, grabbed Fives by his hand and dragged him to the other side of the dancefloor.

“Are you ok, Lex?”, he asked. It was clear from the expression on her face that she was very upset.

 “Yeah, let’s just keep dancing”, she forced a smile. “Please”.

 Rex was sat with Kix at their table, his eyes glued to Lexie as she was still dancing and laughing with Fives, Echo, Jesse and Hardcase. They had only stopped a few times in the past hour in order to head to the bar and do more shots.

He felt so angry, mostly at himself. Lexie was a grown woman, of course she was capable of making her own decisions and entitled to act however she wanted when she was off duty. What the hell was he thinking trying to dictate how she could or couldn’t behave? She did not owe him anything, no matter how much it hurt to see Fives’ hands all over her body.

 His grip tightened around the drink in front of him as he struggled to understand why he was feeling so angry. He tried to tell himself that he only thought of Lexie as a friend, but the pit that would form in his stomach every time he glanced over and saw her dancing with Fives or Jesse… Rex realised it might be time to admit that his vode had been right. He did have a crush on her.

“Did you think he would just wait forever for you to make a move?”, Kix’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts.

“I don’t know what you mean”, he replied dryly.

“Sure you don’t. Just like you don’t look like you want to murder Fives either”, Kix quipped.

Rex shot the medic an irritated look.

 “Nothing happened yet, you know. She’s been dancing a lot with him yes, but she’s also danced with me and with the others. You still have time to do something”.

 Before Rex could reply, Jesse appeared next to Kix and started dragging him out of the booth as “their song” came on and he had to come dance with them. Kix tried to protest that he’d just sat back down, but his brother wouldn’t hear it. Rex lifted his eyes from his drink and saw Lexie by his side.

 “Come dance with us, Captain”, she said with a small smile. She had been looking over at him every now and then as she was dancing and hated the sour mood he was in. She was beginning to think she had been too harsh with her choice of words and wished to now make peace.

 “Good luck with that”, Jesse told her with a laugh. “I have never seen Rex dance”. He and Kix left for the dancefloor.

 “Rex. Please”, she said extending her arm to him.

  He shouldn’t.

  “I’m sorry I snapped, it’s just been a really stressful mission”, she continued, slurring her words a little.

“No, I’m sorry Lexie. I shouldn’t have said what I said”, he said as he reluctantly took her hand and stood up. He hated that he had upset her.

She squeezed his hand slightly trying to convey she was no longer upset with him before leading him to the dancefloor. Hardcase and Fives enthusiastically cheered as he and Lexie approached the group, while Jesse, Kix and Echo exchanged a look. The Captain never danced. No matter how many times they had tried to convince him, no matter how many women had asked him to dance with them, he never danced. And yet it had taken their general less than five minutes to get him out of the booth and onto the dancefloor.

Lexie placed her hands on Rex’s shoulders. Her eyes were a bit unfocused due to the alcohol but she managed to hold his gaze. Rex placed a hand on her waist and attempted to awkwardly mimic the way her body was swaying with the music. He was not good at this, he had really never danced before, but from the smile on her face it didn’t seem like she cared. His eyes had softened, and he was completely ignoring the looks his vode were giving him. His attention was solely on her.

 A slower song came on and Lexie smiled at him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, moving closer and resting her head on his shoulder. Rex placed his other arm on her back and leaned his head towards her, resting his cheek on her head. He took a breath in, inhaling the sweet, floral smell of her shampoo. He knew this was inappropriate but the way she felt in his arms… He was making her happy by dancing with her, and that was making him happy. All he wanted to do was see her smile and hear her laugh. She was so important to him, he realised.

Fear started to settle into his mind; this felt much, much bigger than a simple crush. The relief he felt when the song ended was visible on his face and Lexie looked at him with a confused expression. He excused himself and walked back to their table.

It was late into the night now, and the group was sat back down at the table, with Lexie and Fives being the last to join. Rex had shot up from his seat earlier as he watched the two of them stumble and fall to the floor while laughing and he had decided they had enough dancing, marching over and dragging them back to their seats. The two had plopped down on the bench, still laughing, with Fives leaning a little too much into Lexie’s side. Rex sat down next to Echo on the other side of the table.

 “Why the hell did you let Fives get her so drunk?”, Rex asked Echo in an irritated tone.

“Fives didn’t force her to drink. She is just as bad as he is, honestly”, Echo replied.

“Hey! I heard that”, Lexie replied. She pushed Fived off of her and into Jesse’s side and got up, hands on the table and leaning over it to get closer to Rex. “And I am not as bad as Fives. I am much, much worse”, she grinned.

“I’m starting to believe that”, he mumbled as he watched her lose her balance and practically fall back into her seat.

 Lexie looked to her left, wanting to say something to Fives, only to discover that he had passed out on Jesse’s shoulder. A wide smile spread on her face.

“Guess I won”, she said looking over at Echo.

“You did. And I will make sure he never hears the end of it, don’t worry”, Echo replied amused.

“Alright, I think that’s enough for tonight”, Rex said looking from Fives to Hardcase who seemed close to passing out himself.

The group started heading out of the 79s, with Echo and Kix having to carry Fives, supporting him over their shoulders. Jesse was walking close to Hardcase, making sure he didn’t trip and fall, leaving Rex to walk by Lexie’s side.

She and the Captain had to stay back, as they could not all fit into the first air taxi. Lexie tried with no luck to get Rex to talk during the ride back to the barracks but the atmosphere seemed very tense between the two of them. Lexie’s mood quickly deflated. She had done it, she had shown him who she was and he was disappointed in her.

She stumbled as she got out of the taxi and Rex caught her by the waist before she fell. Lexie was starting to feel very embarrassed, her inhibitions returning as she was slowly sobering up. The silence was killing her as Rex walked her back to her room but she could not think of a single thing to talk about. Even worse, she was beginning to feel very nauseous and most of the focus was directed to keeping her jaw tightly clenched and willing herself to not throw up.

She immediately entered her room and went straight into the fresher, panic flooding her senses. She hated throwing up, it was the worst feeling in the galaxy for her. She would rather have droids shoot her with live blasterfire than have to throw up. Her right hand was gripping the sink, her knuckle turning white. She just had to focus and not allow herself to get sick.

“Are you okay?”, Rex asked from the doorway of the fresher, concern evident on his face.

 All Lexie could do was slowly shake her head. She refused to open her mouth even to speak.

“Do you want me to stay?”, he asked quietly.

 She nodded reaching her left hand for his. He took her hand and squeezed it lightly. Over the next half hour neither of them budged from when they were stood, the only movement being made was when Lexie would squeeze his hand harder during the moments she felt close to throwing up.

Finally feeling a little better she made her way to her bed, sitting on the edge. She quietly watched as Rex took off the upper part of his armor, just as he had the last time he stayed in her room all those months ago. He had kept watch as she slept for six nights before she felt safe to sleep alone again. She hated having to admit to herself how happy she was to have him in the room with her again.

“You can just sleep on the bed you know”, the alcohol still in her system prompted her to say as she saw him reach for the chair.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea”, he said hesitantly.

“It’s fine, it’s big enough”, she said as she laid on the bed on her side and shuffled close to the wall.

That wasn’t what he meant and she knew it, but decided to ignore it and pat the spot on the bed next to her. He hesitated. If he agreed, he would cross so many lines. But he would get to hold her in his arms, to be close to her. And he wanted to do it, Maker he really wanted to.

He laid on his back on the bed and did not protest when Lexie snuggled into his side, resting her head in the crook of his neck and her right hand on his chest. He had moved his arm to allow her to settle comfortably and once she had, he placed it around her, hand coming to rest on her waist. He was suddenly so nervous and exasperated to realise how fast his heart was beating.

 “What are you thinking about?”, she asked. She sounded tired.

“Nothing. Just go to sleep, General”, he replied trying to keep a level voice.

“Something is bothering you. It’s just us two but you just called me ‘general’”.

“It’s just… you and Fives seemed very close tonight”, he said after a long pause.

“Are you jealous?”, she asked with a chuckle.

 “What? No. It was just an observation”, he said defensively.

“You don’t have to worry, you’re still my favourite”, she said lifting her head, eyes finding his.

“I’m your favourite clone?”, he said amused, tilting his head in order to look at her.

“You’re my favourite person”, she admitted.

 Rex’s eyebrows shot up in surprised before a genuine smile appeared on his face. She really saw him as a person, as a sentient being and not just an expendable soldier. He had felt that of course, she treated him and his brothers with respect and it was obvious she cared about them, but to hear her say it, to hear her say that he was her favourite person, out of everyone she knew. He felt so happy. She made him so happy. He squeezed her a little tighter into him.

 “You’re my favourite person too”, he said quietly.

Lexie was struggling to keep her eyes open, the alcohol and exhaustion from dancing finally catching up with her. She felt the happiness pouring around Rex and smiled, resting her head on his chest. Her eyes fluttered closed, but before she drifted off to sleep she was almost certain she felt Rex’s lips gently placing a kiss on the top of her head.

[gx-gameon]

Since it was mentioned in a few posts that Seto was not informed of Banner's death, I can only imagine how he reacts to the FULL LIST of people that need to be replaced. Jaden: Yeah, so the janitor, a security guard, and the secondary nurse were actually Shadow Riders-slash-Duel Spirits, our Alchemy teacher-slash-Occult history teacher and head of Slifer Red was a Shadow Rider too and he was in a homunculus body so I might be having nightmares from finding his mummified corpse, oh and the Superintendent was the leader of the Shadow Riders and was in this weird life support system before he got young and swole so yeah you need to replace a lot of people. Seto: **trying to figure out how he's going to replace 5 positions over the course of a summer because they need to be good duelists too** Joey: ...I'll check with Mai to see if she's still in touch with Valon and his crew. Vivian too; they were close in the tag battle circuit. Yugi: Thank you Joey. I'll see if Bakura wants to replace Banner. I'm sure he would love to teach children about the Dark Arts.

You are correct. Seto sits Jaden down and is like okay the head of your dorm is dead. Who else is gone? *Insert your whole conversation here* Seto breaks something. That’s so many people to higher.

And you’re so right Bakura with his occult deck would be all over teaching children about the Dark Arts. He’s offended he wasn’t the first choice.

And I love Joey being like “we know people! Competent people!”

I was thinking about (and I can’t take full credit for this because I saw it floating around like 6ish years ago) Joey taking over as the head of the Slifer Dorms. Who beater than the king of the underdogs, who has the most growth in his series, to take the Slifer’s and raise them up. He’s the third best duelist in the world he’s got the credentials for it.

But I don’t think I can do it in this au because you know Joey would hear “there’s and evil cult in school grounds brainwashing people to join it” and he go, “not this crap again” as he struts across campus to handle this. Jaden and his gaggle of friends following behind thinking “omg we’re going to see Joy Wheeler duel!” And it turns into “omg we’re watching Joey Wheeler physically beat cult leader!” Joey, and exclent duelist and could win said I’m doing what I should have done the first time, and beats the crap out of Sartorius.

Sartorius: “ah Mr. Wheeler have you come for a duel” think he’s about to get Joey under his control.

Joey: rolling up his sleeves “not quite”

So ya Joey can’t be then head of Slifer dorm because season 2 would not happen or it would be greatly altered. Aster Phoenix shows up talking trash and trying to duel Jaden, ya no uncle Joey I mean Professor Wheeler said no.

They blow Jaden’s identity in a week because Joey watches Jaden win a duel and yells “that’s my nephew!!!!” Everyone looks at him “I mean my student!!!!” Everyone knows but Jaden and jeoy keep acting like they don’t.

Honestly this might have to be an au of my own au or I’ll make a new cannon where Joey is in charge of Slifer dorm from season 2 onwards (in a world where it’s cannon Jaden maybe??)

But the idea of Mai, Valon, Raphael, Vivian or Rebecca coming to teach is very fun.

It makes me want to add more of the cast in

Obviously Bakura is the occult teacher (wild that’s a job)

Maybe Serenity comes to work as the nurse (going into medicine after her eye surgery)

Duke teaches game making (an actual track the kids at duel academy can take)

Mai takes over the girl dorms and force them to allow more girls in (why are all girls automatically Obelisk? Do they only let in the best of the best girls and the mediocre boys can get in? You can’t convince me Mindy and Jasmine are the “best of the best” honestly I need someone to give me the enrollment rules for this school. Because I feel most of obelisk blue bought their way in and then there is everyone else. The red and blue uniforms being made girl and boy uniforms in 5Ds makes way more sense then what ever enrollment and ranking system is going on in Gx)

Also I’ve always loved Valon and Raphael and having them come in as security guards or something could be hilarious because the students are used the the security being pseudo military. Someone breaks the rules in season 2 and are expecting the military security but instead these three jacked bickers show up at their door. Because those three are not wearing any uniform.

I don’t know if any of this will be cannon but having Serenity on campus would actually be really fun. I wish we had more of her in cannon and her being the nurse puts her in an “active role” for season 3

[valscigarette]

Mine (Ones I Used to Know)

Summary: Vox reminds Val who he belongs to. For Day Twelve of the December Challenge.

Tags: Smut, Bondage, Overstimulation, Degradation, Top!Vox

WC: 1.5k | AO3 | Art by @aflatfacedprick

-

  Restraining a demon with as many limbs as Valentino is a feat, but after decades together, Vox has it down to science. Each of Val’s wrists is completely immobilized by coils of Vox’s cables, his thighs are pinned under Vox’s knees, and his face is mashed into the pillow from Vox’s grip on the back of his neck. He can struggle all he likes; he’s not getting free, and his desperate attempts to escape only provide more friction against Vox’s clothed dick.

“Fucking asshole,” Val complains into the bedding as he makes another attempt to pull his arms free. “You haven’t put out in weeks, and now-”

Vox shuts him up with a smack to the ass that makes his own hand sting. He sneers, “That’s rich coming from you.”

   How dare he complain as if he hasn’t spent days so far up Angel Dust’s ass that Vox considered building a probe to find out if he stores coke in there or something. It’s not fair. He gives Valentino everything. Fucking everything! Vox has wracked his brain trying to determine what that gangly slut has that he doesn’t, but has yet to come up with a single satisfactory answer for why Val keeps dragging a junkie into a dressing room bed instead of returning to theirs.

“With how busy you’ve been, I almost forgot you were married to me, not your cotton-candy whore.”

Val laughs until Vox digs his claws into the sides of his throat and taints the air with the copper tang of his blood. Vox’s filters are fine-tuned to protect him from noxious fumes like pollution or Val’s toxins, but no amount of programming overrides the thrill of smelling freshly spilled blood. As much as he wants to taste it, he needs to make this last. 

“Jealous?” Val pants. 

“Sick of your shit,” Vox corrects. “You promised, you said no more public performances, no more fucking around, I-” He reins himself in. The more upset, the more vulnerable he sounds, the less likely he is to get Val back under control. “I just think you've gotten confused, is all.”

Under him, Val bucks his hips, trying to throw Vox off with the might of a scruffed kitten. “Confused? You’re fucking confused.” His struggles only chafe the tight binding of Vox’s cables. “I told you that I wouldn’t star in any more films-” his long tongue lolls out of his mouth as he inhales like it’s the last breath he’ll ever take, “-which I haven’t. And you should be grateful, Voxxy.”

“Should I?” Vox bites. 

He grabs the central cord down Val’s back and yanks him upright, his torso forced into such a tight arch by the bondage that he trembles to hold the position even with Vox’s support. The funny thing is that Vox has seen this porn: Val trussed up, writhing and helpless, to receive his punishment from an overlord whose face never came on screen. It’s a classic vintage Valentino, and one of Vox’s personal favorites. 

When he reaches around Val’s waist, Vox doesn’t have to grope around for his cock. The excitable appendage seeks him out first and winds itself between his fingers, already sticky with precum like Vox knew it would be. Nothing gets Val going like a fight. And, despite his many irritating protests, he always has the most spectacular orgasms when he loses.

“This,” Vox growls, tightening his hand around Val’s dick, “belongs to me. Not the cameras, not your sluts, not you. Me.”

Val chuckles even as he blurts precum over Vox’s fingers from the possessive spiel. “Very funny, baby. But this cock is under contract; half my bitches signed their souls over for a standing appointment.”

On some level Vox knows that–he’s read all of Val’s contracts–but the reminder glitches his systems badly enough for his screen to blank as electricity sparks from his claws, drawing another glob of fluid from Val. It really is no wonder he wound up doing porn with his afterlife. He’s made for it. 

“Good for them,” Vox sneers, a cheering sound effect bolstering his words, “but you’re mine.”

Another condescending laugh bubbles from Val’s throat until Vox shoves him back down in the blankets and kicks his legs apart once more. While Val will fuck anything that moves, he’s tetchier about who gets to rail him. He’ll swear up and down that it’s because no one compares to the skill of his own prehensile genitalia’s reach, but Vox knows the truth has more to do with how sensitive the pink pussy tucked between Val’s balls and asshole is. Since becoming an overlord, there’s no one he trusts to destroy him like that. Even Vox typically gets relegated to the backdoor.

“Or did you forget?”

“Fuck off.”

Val continues struggling as Vox trails his hand down to press against his dripping pussy. The first press of his thumb into the slit spills slick down to Vox’s wrist and makes Val shudder, his arms flexing against the cables restraining him as if he’ll suddenly be able to break free now, when every attempt so far has been endearing at best. 

“This is mine too,” Vox carries on conversationally. He doesn’t have the caps that would protect Val’s delicate insides from his claws, but he doubts Val is going to complain, especially when Vox doesn’t plan on much prep. He simply pets Val’s pussy, smearing his juices from his hole to the base of his cock and back again. “No one else’s. Right, Val?”

“I’ll kill you,” Val sing-songs.

But his voice wavers, shivering worse than he’ll be after Vox fucks some sense back into him, and the threat dies in the air between them. If Val was serious, he would’ve killed Vox the first time he tied Val down to prove a point. Or the fifth. 

“Good luck with that.”

Vox lets go of Val completely to pull his own dick out and stroke himself a couple of times to coat it with Val’s slick. The aphrodisiacs in it don’t affect his mechanical body like it would most sinners, but the warmth leftover from Val’s body is a potent enough drug to make up the difference when Vox shuffles forward to press the head of his cock against Val’s hole.

Val groans like the sound was forced out of him and shudders. It’s a pitiful showing for a demon that used to make his living off taking the biggest cocks in Hell, but then again, he doesn’t let anyone fuck him like this anymore. No one but Vox. 

“That’s more like it,” he purrs. He can’t move as fast as he’s used to, Val’s too tight around him, but that’s probably for the best. If Vox was able to fuck Val at the pace his instincts demand, then this would be over before the real fun starts. “Want to know how I can tell it’s mine?” 

Before Val can answer, Vox spanks him, which in turn has Val cursing into the pillows and dribbling more precum as he tightens around Vox’s dick. He thrusts the rest of the way in until his hips press into the backs of Val’s thighs. 

“Because I fit perfectly.”

“Has nothing to do with you,” Val whines. “It’s my fucking pussy, of course it’s perfect.”

It’s not that Val’s ass isn’t great, but it doesn’t mold around Vox like a sleeve designed to the contours of his body, and it’s never this wet no matter how much lube Vox uses. More importantly, it doesn’t make Val melt like this. He can play feisty all he wants, and it won’t change the puddle forming beneath him, or how easily Vox can feel Val clenching around him.

“Right.” Vox withdraws halfway just to bottom out again in a single rough thrust, punching a wet moan from Val in the process. “That’s why you save it for me, then?”

If Val planned on replying, his words disappear behind another moan when Vox takes hold of his bindings and uses them to pull Val back onto his cock. The cables help, but Val is too heavy to really use like a fleshlight when he’s gone dead-weight from being fucked in a way he so seldom indulges. 

“Don’t tell me you let Angel Dust fuck you like this.”

“Nnnn,” Val gurgles, probably meaning to say no but unable to manage it when Vox is fucking him with computed efficiency. 

A buzzer sound snarls through Vox’s speakers. “Not really an answer, but great effort!” He smacks Val’s ass again and adds, “Good thing I don’t keep you around for your brains.”

Val keens, seizing up around Vox like a vice as he comes, splattering the sheets with an obscene amount of jizz. He’s always a firehose but milking an orgasm out of him seems to make it worse, to the point that the bed becomes too slippery for Val to hold himself up on his knees and he collapses prone atop the mattress. Vox follows him without allowing a second’s reprieve.

“There you go,” he coos, worming a hand under Val to curl around his oversensitive cock. It spills another wave of cum despite Val’s sobbing. “See? Mine.”

And with Val’s nonexistent refractory period, Vox intends to prove this particular point as many times as it takes.

[charmandabear]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by hamrikaa (@hamrikaa)

Leather and Lace

Summary

Lady Estelle wasn't expecting to fall for her tailor, of all people. But with everything under her control during the day, she's more than content to cede control to him at night.

Pairing: Astarion/F!OC Rating: E Word Count: 5.7k Tags/Warnings: unprotected sex, orgasm denial, safeword discussion, light bondage, d/s dynamic, p in v sex, vampire sex, biting, vampire bites, blood drinking, sexual tension, casual classism, AU, (sorta, you can make an argument), praise kink

Read on AO3

Something in me turned feral when I saw Hamrikaa's tailor!Astarion art and I needed to get this out of my system. It doesn't help that I work with costumes irl and I suddenly got a lot of opinions about Astarion and sewing.

I have more thoughts on this relationship, particularly with the class difference and power dynamics. I also really want a story with a plus size protag since I'm really tired of feeling like the implication is that all Tavs/OCs are the type 1 body. So let me know if that's something that appeals to you, or if you're interested in a longer version with more than just sexual tension and smut, lol.

Fucking Arfur.

It’s sundown on a Saturday and Lady Estelle Rosewinter is traipsing through the Lower City looking for a tailor. Arfur Gregorio had shown up to her masquerade several hours early already intoxicated. While trying to shoo him off the grounds, he had stepped on her gown, ripping the seam of the thigh high slit to a nearly obscene height. Now, as guests are beginning to arrive, she isn’t there to greet them and is rather passing shop after shop putting up their closing signs. 

She could have just chosen a different gown as her handmaiden Celia had suggested, except that it took her so long to get into the damn thing. She thought that getting it fixed would take but a minute. It did not occur to her that, given the hour, finding an available tailor would prove so difficult.

Estelle is about to give up when she sees a dim little shop out of the corner of her eye. It’s not on the main drag, but rather up a quiet alleyway. But there’s no mistaking the sign.

Threads of Starlight

The door to the shop is clearly open, so she rushes in, desperate to speak with the proprietor.

“My apologies, I know you’re probably about to close, but I have an emergency, and I promise that I’ll pay handsomely for the inconvenience–” she cuts herself off as the tailor walks out from the back. He’s so much more attractive than she would’ve expected from someone of his station. His clothes are humble but understandably incredibly well-fitting, his trousers gently hugging his lean legs and the sleeves of his light linen top rolled up above his elbows, revealing pale, slender forearms. His silvery hair looks windswept and effortless, although Estelle knows it takes a practiced hand to get one’s hair just right like that. There’s a measuring tape slung around his neck and he looks briefly startled by her appearance before a practiced charm takes over.

“No need for apologies, Lady…” he leaves a gap in his speech for her to tell him her name. His voice is melodic.

“Estelle. Lady Estelle.” She tries to match his honeyed tone but her mouth has suddenly gone dry. He takes her hand and gently presses his lips to her knuckles.

“Lady Estelle. The pleasure is all mine,” he coos and a shiver goes up her spine. What on earth would a tailor need with this much charisma? Without letting go of her hand, he gracefully leads her up onto the fitting stand in the middle of the shop. She has danced with the finest nobility in Baldur’s Gate, and none of them were even half this elegant.

“Now please, tell me what I can do for you. I hope there’s nothing wrong with this beautiful gown of yours. Is it one of Galwen’s?” The way he looks at her makes her feel exposed, almost naked, despite the conversation literally being about her clothes. She clears her throat in an attempt to regain some composure.

“Yes, I’ve been going to her for years, but she’s tragically unavailable this evening.” Not that Estelle didn’t try. She sent three messengers and finally went to Galwen’s door herself, but she refused to open back up. Pity, since it looks like she’s lost Estelle’s business for good, especially if this one turns out to be as good as he looks. And gods does he look good.

“All the more fortunate for me that I stay open late,” he says in a low tone, and gooseflesh breaks out over Estelle’s arms. “Now, tell me darling,” he coughs at letting the casual pet name slip out, “pardon me, my Lady, how can I be your gown’s savior this evening?” Estelle hadn’t heard the rest of his sentence because her ears started ringing at the “darling.” Normally she would not take too kindly to someone in the working class speaking so informally to her. She’s beginning to feel lightheaded. Has she been hexed? Does this happen to any who cross his threshold?

“It’s torn,” she says in an uncharacteristically small voice. “Right here.” She lifts her skirt at the thigh slit, threads popping out of the seam. In an instant the tailor is on one knee, examining it closely. With him suddenly this close, all of her symptoms dissipate and are replaced by just one: desire.

She tries to shake herself out of it. Not only would anything of the sort be wildly inappropriate - given her status in Baldur’s Gate, an affair with a lowly tailor would be splashed all over Baldur’s Mouth within hours - this man is a consummate professional, and she’s certain that he would never return her affections. He must look beneath dozens of hems a day, this is nothing out of the ordinary for him. 

He touches the fabric as he studies it, cool fingers lightly grazing Estelle’s skin. She gasps at the sensation, and he looks up at her sheepishly.

“I’m terribly sorry, I have poor circulation. My touch is always something nasty, I’m afraid.” Estelle shakes her head and finds anywhere to look but into those piercing red eyes. 

“It’s fine, really. I have an important evening planned, so I’m a bit jumpy,” she lies through her teeth. He steps away to pick up a needle and thread from behind the counter. While his back is turned, Estelle takes the time alone to wipe sweat off her brow. This man is making her burn up inside and out.

“Oh really?” he sings as he’s back down on his knees, dangerously close to her upper thigh once again. “And pray forgive me, but I must reach up slightly in order to make this repair, if that’s alright. I promise, I’ll be the picture of a gentleman.” He looks up at her, waiting for her consent before touching her further. Estelle, worried what might come out if she opened her mouth, just nods. 

He slides his hand between the fabric and her leg, pulling it out slightly so he can tuck his needle into the underside of the seam. Estelle bites down on her tongue to keep from moaning. She knows that she’s touch-starved, it’s been far too long since anyone has warmed her bedsheets. Between running a household, meeting with politicians and nobility alike, and her position in the Baldur’s Gate arts council, she hardly has the time. But this is ridiculous. A gentle caress from a man should not elicit this much heat between her thighs, and yet here she is, keeping them pressed together tight, the slight pressure her only relief. 

His fingers move deftly, pulling the needle through the fabric with ease. He’s focusing on his work so intently, and Estelle watches him almost like he’s a dream. He begins tying off the thread, and before he’s complete, his eyes flick upward to meet Estelle’s.

“All finis-” he begins, but Estelle is so startled by the intensity of his gaze that she jumps, causing him to prick his finger with the needle. A tiny droplet of blood lands on the pale pink silk. The tailor jumps back, horrified, and immediately starts apologizing profusely.

“Oh gods, Lady Estelle, I’m so terribly sorry, look at what a clumsy little fool I am, gods on such a beautiful dress, too,” his words tumble out of him, all composure that was once there, now gone. She’s finding this flustered side of him possibly even more appealing than the cool and collected version. Her lady-of-the-house instincts kick in, and she addresses him like a new maid who has accidentally broken china while transporting it to the kitchen. 

“Darling,” she breathes and lifts his chin with a finger. She can finally look into those crimson eyes, feeling herself regain the poise she’s accustomed to. “It’s nothing to worry about. Just a speck.” She swears she can hear his breath catch, but maybe it’s just wishful thinking because he recovers quickly.

“Perhaps, but I still feel terrible. This mend is on the house, as well as any alteration you might need done on another garment. And, ah. How to say this.” He looks flushed again, despite the paleness of his skin. “There is a foolproof way of getting one’s blood out of fabric, but it’s not the most, er, refined shall I say.” This piques Estelle’s intrigue.

“Really? And what way is that?”

The tailor shifts nervously, and she positively relishes in the trade in demeanors. 

“This only works if it’s the one the blood belongs to, but if you can catch it straight away, then, erm, saliva will do the trick,” he says with a chagrined smile. Whatever Estelle was expecting, this is not it. 

“Oh,” she responds, and suddenly she’s back to that lightheaded feeling. What is he proposing exactly? Whatever it may be, she’s certain it will involve his mouth in some way and she’s not sure how she’ll handle that.

“The next five alterations are free, I’m so very sorry, this is very uncommon while working on a garment. At least, I’m usually better at catching myself,” he adds with embarrassment. 

“Uh, yes, whatever- whatever needs to be done. Thank you.” She peers down at him, willing herself to find somewhere else to look but unable to tear her eyes away. He pops a thin, pale finger in his mouth and swirls his tongue around it. She swallows loudly as he takes his finger out and dabs it on the slit of her dress, still achingly close to her thigh. He rubs at the spot, but evidently it’s not enough, because he then brings his lips to her dress and lightly rubs his tongue on the silk. 

“Oh gods,” she can’t keep this moan from escaping her lips. If he can hear her, he doesn’t respond, blessedly. He pulls away from her, silver hair ever so slightly disheveled, and rubs at the spot with a handkerchief to dry it.

“Apologies again, my Lady,” he says with a frown, examining the spot for any remaining blood. Then he stands and they’re face to face, the few inches of pedestal putting their eyes at the same height. “I hope this doesn’t make you think any less of my skills as a tailor.” She briefly wonders what other skills he might possess before banishing the thought from her head. 

“Not at all, er,” she falters, realizing she never asked his name, which is unlike her, she usually tries to learn the names of all of the people she contracts to work for her.

“Astarion,” he says with a bow.

“Astarion, yes,” she repeats breathlessly. “Well, Astarion, you came to my aid in a time of desperation, and I suppose there was a blood price to be paid.” He lets out a startled laugh, clearly not expecting her to make such a joke.

“That’s very clever, Lady Estelle,” he says, his eyes sparkling. “You were a pleasure to have on my fitting platform, I do hope to see you again soon. At least to make up for my absolute buffoonery.” He’s back to the confidently poised man who first greeted her when she entered the shop, and he plants another light kiss on the back of her hand. 

“I assure you, the pleasure was all mine,” Estelle murmurs, almost hoping that he doesn’t hear her. “Oh, and Astarion?”

“Yes, my Lady?”

“Please. Call me Stella.

***

Several tenday have passed since Stella’s first meeting with Astarion, and she had visited his shop nearly every evening. It didn’t take long for her to admit her feelings; she couldn’t hide them even if she wanted to. Even when Astarion confessed his status as a vampire spawn, she wasn’t deterred. If anything, it aroused her all the more. Something happens to Astarion when he drinks her blood. The humble and subservient tailor disappears, and in his place is a self-assured and dominant man. Stella is more than happy to relinquish control over to him. She’s responsible for so much during the day, making decisions, telling people what to do, so there’s an appeal to having someone else take that role for once. 

The moment she walks into the shop she’s met with the graceful gentleman. No matter how many times she sees him, that wicked smile sets a small ember in her belly that quickly spreads. Each point of contact lights on fire despite his chilled skin. A spark in her fingers as he pulls her forward, a flame on her cheek as he strokes it gently. In an instant he shuts the door and flips around the open sign. With the darkened windows and the door now closed, they’re plunged into semi-darkness and Stella feels a chill go up her spine.

Astarion wastes no time in pushing her against the door and kissing her deeply. He presses his body up against hers and she gasps into his kiss as he pulls her in closer by her waist. He slides his knee between her legs and she lets out a whimper. Astarion chuckles in her ear.

“Eager, aren’t we?” he coos, lifting her slightly with his knee putting a delicious pressure on her mound. She clutches the back of his neck and hair, wrapping her leg around him to get even closer. He hikes up her skirt to her waist and scoops her up so both of her legs grip his midsection. Keeping his lips locked on hers as she continues to devour him, he carries her through the shop and to one of the adjacent rooms where there’s a bed and two untouched glasses of wine sitting on a side table. The tailor’s quarters. 

He throws her down on the bed and she looks up at him, cheeks and lips flushed, eyes glowing. Her typically neatly coiffed hair is mussed and strands splay out beneath her head like a halo. Astarion straddles her waist, pinning her in place, as he strokes her face.

“Tell me what you want,” he breathes, looking down at her with heavy lidded eyes. She grabs his shirt and pulls him in close.

“You know what I want,” she smirks, gaze flickering between his eyes and lips. He laces his fingers through her tousled hair and gently grazes his fangs over her neck, eliciting a sharp gasp.

“And you know I like to hear it,” he murmurs into her neck, and another full-body shiver goes through Stella. His breath feels chilling against her warm neck, blood pumping eagerly through her arteries. She grabs his face and forces him to look her in the eye – the last bit of control she has before she cedes it completely.

“Astarion,” she says slowly, measured and teasing, “I would enjoy it very much if you bit my neck, drank my blood, and then had your fucking way with me.” He chuckles darkly.

“Well,” he grins, a mischievous glint in his eye, “since you asked so nicely.” Stella lets out a moan as his fangs sink into her skin, the piercing pain soon giving way to a throbbing ache. His lips close around the wound, drinking in her delicious warmth, leaving her feeling blissfully lightheaded. She hums with pleasure as she curls her fingers into his silvery locks, hips unconsciously rolling into his, hungry for more contact. She can feel him growing stronger as her blood flows into him, his thighs tightly gripping her hips, keeping her locked into place. 

Astarion pulls away from her before going too far and Stella lets out a small whine at the loss of contact. He’s out of breath, chest heaving as he licks the last of her blood from his lips. He presses two fingers to the wound on her neck to stanch the bleeding as she looks up at him, pupils blown wide with lust. Once he can feel that the blood is no longer flowing freely, he takes his fingers away and hovers them centimeters above Stella’s lips.

“Open,” he commands, and she dutifully obeys. She takes his fingers into her mouth and sucks on them lasciviously, the metallic taste of her own blood filling her mouth. It’s one thing to prick her finger and to suck on it to make the bleeding stop. It’s quite another to lap her blood of Astarion’s fingers, languishing in the vulgarity of the taboo. She yearns to hear his breath hitch as she works her tongue over their length. 

He slides his fingers out of her mouth and grabs her chin, reversing the roles from moments before. He examines her face, turning it this way and that, like he’s inspecting a prized golden retriever at a dog show. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he lets out in a low tone. “Trapped underneath me, open and wanton, ready to let me do whatever I want with you. To you,” he adds on with an impish grin, and Stella squirms with anticipation. He swings a leg over her and stands by the edge of the bed, towering over her.

“Up now, on your knees,” he instructs and she scrambles to sit on her knees, still looking up at Astarion with lust-filled eyes. He reaches behind her and fully releases her hair from its loose braid letting it fall down the length of her back. He runs his fingers through her hair, humming as he does, “Good girl.” Her chest swells with the intake of breath as she leans into his touch even more.

“Undress. Quickly,” he demands. Her skirt is already up around her waist so she peels the rest of her dress off in a fluid motion. The corset provides a little more resistance, but even with fumbling fingers she manages to untie the laces and undo the hooks, letting it fall behind her. The sudden exposure to air makes her nipples go hard. Astarion smirks and cups one of her breasts in his hand, stroking her tit with his thumb. Stella bites back a cry.

“Shh shh shh. Not a sound,” Astarion whispers as he puts his lips close to her ear, continuing to fondle her. “I don’t want to hear you make a single noise, understood? Not until I say so.” He pulls away and locks his crimson eyes on her brown ones. Stella trembles, but nods silently.

“Good,” he breathes and slides her forward so that she’s sitting on the edge of the bed with her toes lightly touching the floor. He then lowers himself to one knee between her legs. He kisses up her thigh until he reaches her panties. He looks up at her mischievously as he hooks a finger in either side of the waistband, and he slips them off in a single fluid motion. Stella shudders with anticipation for what he plans to do next. 

Astarion parts her legs and she can feel the cool air on the slickness between her thighs. He leans forward and takes her nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue lightly over the tip. She takes in a shaky breath, but she manages to keep any noise she might want to make under wraps. He looks up at her while continuing to work his tongue. She clenches the sheets as jolts of white hot electricity shoot through her body. He pushes her legs apart even further and leans in, the ties from his frilled shirt lightly brushing against her folds. She gasps and shifts her pelvis, simultaneously trying to get less and more contact. He grabs her waist forcefully to hold it in place. He snakes his way up so that they’re face to face, lips a hair’s breadth apart.

“Ah ah, no moving either. Are you going to be good for me? Will you be silent like I’ve asked?” he says in a light, sing-songy tone. Stella keeps her lips clamped together as she nods.

“And what will you give me if you can’t obey?” he purrs, brushing his lips against hers as he runs a thin, cool finger along her slit. 

“Ah-anything,” Stella moans, turning her pleasure sound into a response. Astarion lets a smug grin play on his lips.

“Either way, I’ll get what I want,” he intones, and mercifully pulls his face away from hers. She releases a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. But it’s still only the beginning.

He lowers himself onto both knees and places a delicate kiss on her labia. She squirms but remains silent.

“My, you could drown a small army down here,” he says with an amused smile, and Stella just continues to breathe heavily, her chest rising and falling as she gazes down at the head of white curls between her legs. He runs the tip of his tongue along her folds, hands pushing out on her thighs slightly as he does. As he parts her legs further he exposes more of her, letting his tongue explore the newly uncovered skin. A cry catches in Stella’s throat and she slaps a hand over her mouth. His scorching gaze fixes on her and she lets herself fall back on the bed. If she watches she’ll be done for. Then again, not being able to anticipate his next move might be even worse.

Not being one to let her escape his torment, Astarion grabs Stella beneath the legs and yanks her toward him, letting her legs fall onto his shoulders as he continues to lap up her sweetness. She chokes down a whine, her breath quickening as she desperately tries to control herself. His tongue plunges into her and she bites into her hand with a hiss. With her pelvis rolled up so that he can get the best angle, he continues fucking her with his tongue, getting deep enough that the tips of his fangs press into her ever so lightly. 

That’s what sets her over the edge. The smallest pinprick of pain along with all of the filthy things he’s doing to her with his tongue tears a scream from her throat, muffled by her hand. He stops and stands over her, backlit by the low lighting, her wetness reflecting off his devilish smile. He then grabs her by the throat, not enough to constrict her breathing, but just enough to pull her face up to his.

“What was that, my sweet?” he growls dangerously. 

“N-nothing,” Stella stammers out, but Astarion just smiles.

“I don’t think it was ‘nothing,’ darling,” he breathes, acid in his voice. “I was very explicit in my instructions, was I not?” His hand tightens around Stella’s throat and she lets out a choked sound. It’s not a sound she usually makes. Astarion pulls his hand back slightly, concern creeping into his eyes. Stella looks up at him and nods.

Keep going.

They have a safe word for a reason, but if anything unexpected happens, Astarion still prefers to check in. He’s mentioned before that sometimes he’s worried that he’ll lose control, especially right after drinking her blood.

Stella finds the danger absolutely thrilling, but wants him to feel just as safe as she does.

Astarion drops her throat and pushes her down so her back is flat against the bed. Still between her legs, he pushes his pelvis against hers, pinning her wrists above her head. He’s still fully clothed, and the leather of his pants feels deliciously cool against her wet pussy. He puts one knee up on the bed, pushing her right leg up higher and spreading her even further. As unphased and indifferent as he seems, Stella can still feel his erection pressing into her, and she shifts to feel it more.

“You said you’d give me anything if you failed, correct?” he murmurs against her lips. 

“Yes,” the word escapes on a breath.

“Then hold still.” Astarion stands and the sudden loss of all contact elicits a small whine from Stella. He flashes her a playful smirk as he walks over to the bedside table and pulls out two long strips of cloth. He climbs on top of Stella again, straddling her hips and squeezing lightly with his thighs.

“Wrists, please,” he commands almost nonchalantly. Stella immediately puts her wrists together and holds them out to Astarion.

“Good girl,” he coos and the praise makes her lightheaded. He tenderly wraps her wrists up in the silk cloth, making sure it's tight enough to prevent escape but not enough to cause any lasting damage. He then takes the other strip of cloth, a sturdier cotton broadcloth, and holds it to her lips. He ties it tightly behind her neck, keeping her from being able to open her mouth at all.

“Since you can’t control yourself enough to stay quiet,” he purrs, low and dangerous, “maybe this will do it for you. And I think,” he stands and walks over to the bed stand. He looks over his shoulder and orders in an apathetic tone, “Up dear.” She scrambles to her knees, wrists falling limply in her lap. He continues, “I think you need one more thing to remind you to whom you belong.” He pulls out a fine leather collar with a silver O-ring in the middle. Stella’s excitement mingles with genuine admiration for the craftsmanship. He turns around and lovingly closes it around her neck. He then slips one slender finger through the ring and pulls it up so her head is tilted toward him.

“How does that feel, good?” he asks lightly, and she nods, still desperate to please. He lets go of the collar and strokes her jaw. “Good,” he breathes, and she can see the self-control in his eyes. He wants to fuck her just as much as she wants him to, and it’s taking everything in his power to hold out. He leans into her lips as though he’s about to kiss her but stops just short of making contact. 

“Now, before I decide precisely what I want to do with you,” he hums into her lips, “I want to make sure you can still tell me if I need to stop or slow down. If it ever becomes too much, I want you to snap your fingers, understood? Show me now.” Astarion keeps his lips achingly close to hers, but she does as he says. When he hears her snap, he grabs her face in his hands and kisses her roughly, sliding a dastardly knee between her legs once again. She longs to reach for him but keeps her bound wrists dutifully in her lap as his lips continue their assault on hers. 

Once he breaks the kiss, he remains close and slides his hands behind her head and into her hair. “Good girl,” the words rumble low in his throat and Stella is grateful for the cloth that muffles the obscene noise she makes. He steps away and she’s finally able to see all of him as he pulls off the tunic, revealing his porcelain chest. She yearns to run her fingers along it, tracing the outlines of his muscles, but instead she just grabs a fistful of sheets beneath her hands. He pulls down his trousers, letting his already hardened cock free, and her pussy twitches in anticipation. 

Astarion saunters back up to her and touches the front of her gag where a small wet spot is forming with her desire for him. He smirks and pulls her face down to his cock, running the tip of it along the broadcloth. She can feel it brush against her lips, and she again moans in anticipation. 

“Don’t you wish you could take me in your mouth?” he breathes, and Stella presses her tongue against the inside of the gag, trying to make even minimal contact. He laughs cruelly. “Gods, you’re desperate,” he scoffs. “It’s a shame, because if you had been able to follow my instructions, I may have even let you ride me on top.” He pushes the tip of his dick into the gag one more time before pulling away, leaving Stella to squirm achingly. 

“But instead,” he forcefully pushes her back so that she’s once again lying on the bed with her legs spread open for him. He crawls on top of her and teases her opening with his tip. She mewls in desperation. “You’ll have to contend with me doing whatever I want to this beautiful body of yours. I can slide in,” and he pushes into her, wrenching a gasp and whine from her mouth, before pulling out and letting his tip tease her again, “and pull out on a whim. You said I could do whatever I want.”

Stella is beside herself with lust. Unable to move her hands, she writhes her pelvis, trying to get even the slightest bit of contact. Her pussy is starting to burn from the pent up desire and she’s genuinely unsure of how much longer she can last like this. Astarion grins widely and his fangs sparkle in the low lighting. 

“Shall I give you what you want, darling? What you so fiercely crave?” His slick tip is still dancing around her cunt and tears are starting to form in her eyes as she nods. He thrusts into her again and rips the cloth from her lips before whispering sharply into her ear.

“Then I want to hear it all,” he hisses. “I want you screaming my name as I fuck you.” With his permission, she cries out, all of her stifled energy finally releasing.

“Oh gods, Astarion, fuck me please,” the words spill from her mouth uncontrollably. He starts pounding into her and she knows after all that time teasing her, she won’t last long. The heat of him sliding in and out, the stretch with each thrust, fills her with a fire that threatens to turn into an explosion. 

“Fuck, Astarion, please,” she whines, moments away from climax. She wraps her legs around his waist to get him in deeper, and now it’s his turn to let out a low moan. He continues to slam into her, the sounds of their mutual pleasure mounting.

“Look at me,” he growls, and she struggles to keep her gaze locked onto his crimson eyes. He looks so beautiful above her, silvery hair getting slick with sweat, panting as he continues his smooth rhythm. She can feel her orgasm building as her cries grow louder. He knows she’s close, too, and once again he flashes a fang-bearing smile.

“Come for me, darling,” he groans, and that sends her toppling over the edge.

“Gods, Astarion, yes!” she screams as she comes, and his follows shortly after. With a final thrust, he releases into her, his cock pulsing exquisitely. He looks down at her with an uncharacteristically shy smile and kisses her as he pulls out.

Both of them are out of breath as he collapses onto the bed next to her. Stella’s limbs feel light as though she just downed an entire bottle of dream mist. She rolls onto her side to look at Astarion, who appears to be equally intoxicated. Without a word she holds her wrists up, and he laughs lightly.

“Ah, yes, you might want those back,” he croons, and uses his teeth to pull out the knot, and the silk falls away in one fluid motion. Her hands are so close to his face that she cups his chin gently, just content to look at him.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispers, and he turns a kiss into her palm. 

“I could say the same thing,” he purrs as he looks up at her through his lashes. “Tea?” He pulls up the plush blanket that had been folded neatly at the end of the bed and wraps it around Stella’s shoulders. She snuggles into it and pulls it closed around her, then nods. He plants a quick kiss on her forehead and walks over to fill the kettle hanging above the hearth. Stella admires his silhouette, backlit by the light of the fire. He’s lithe and sinewy, his sculpted muscles built for dexterity more than strength. Her eyes rake over his broad shoulders, the dip of his lower back, the curve of his bare ass. He turns his head to look at her over his shoulder.

“Yes?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Nothing,” she hums, “just enjoying the view.” He smiles as he leans over the blanket cocoon she’s swathed herself in and kisses her lips softly, gently. He’s always particularly tender with her after a session like that, and Stella is grateful for it. She loves being able to see both of these sides of Astarion. The affable tailor eager to serve, and the dangerous dom claiming his power. Her fingers lightly dance on the collar he put on her. She likes the idea of belonging to him. A pity she couldn’t wear something as conspicuous as a leather collar in her daily life.

Astarion returns with a steaming mug, and as though reading her mind, pulls a long jewelry box from the drawer of the bedside table. 

“A companion piece to your collar, if you so wish,” he says in explanation. “You’re under no obligation to wear it, of course, but I thought you might like a little reminder of me everywhere you go.” She opens the box and nestled in the satin is a delicate silver chain with a small ring in the center. Her jaw drops slightly as she marvels at its beauty.

“Astarion, how did you–?” she begins, but he cuts her off.

“It pays to be a well-connected artisan, darling,” he says with a shrug. 

“Will you put it on me?” Stella asks in a light voice, and he looks delighted. She lifts up her hair so that he can unclasp the leather collar and replace it with the silver necklace. His fingers brush against her neck, lingering on the puncture mark he left earlier.

“Although perhaps you might want to sport high-collared dresses for a bit,” he admits with an apologetic grin. Stella turns and kisses him, cupping his face and gently running her thumb along his jaw.

“Well thank the gods I have a tailor who can make me new gowns in all the latest fashions,” she smirks. He climbs on top of her to kiss her more deeply, their naked bodies touching in a way that’s intimate, but not sexual. She could melt into his flesh, his kiss, his breath, and never want to change a thing.

[bellaireland1981]

Starting Over | 9

Summary: You come home to work to find your husband of three years in bed with your supposed best friend. It’s the wake up call you finally needed to take your two year old daughter and get the hell out of Texas. With nowhere to go you head to your big brother in San Diego. The Dagger squad takes you under their wings, and shows you what having a family means. You get a fresh start… will you find your happily ever after?

Characters: Jake “hangman” Seresin x Sister! Reader, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Seresin! Reader (Eventually), Hangman x Phoenix , Adorable OC Gracie!   The Dagger squad

Word Count: 10454

Warnings: Angst, fighting, cheating husband, emotional abuse, eventual fluff, SMUT, Sweet uncle Jake, Adorable Rooster with a toddler… if I miss any please let me know. MINORS DNI

A/N: I don’t own the characters or storyline for Top Gun Maverick. All OC’s are mine. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR ANYONE TO COPY OR REPOST MY WORK TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM! DON’T STEAL! Reblogs, likes and comments ALWAYS welcomed. THANK YOU @waywardodysseys​ and  @beyondthesefourwalls​ as always for reading over my work and helping me flush out ideas!!

Taglist is open! If I missed anyone who asked to be tagged, please fill out this GOOGLE FORM  to be added. It’s getting to hard to keep track of asks.

CH 1  CH 2  CH 3  Ch 4  Ch 5  Ch 6  Ch 7 Ch 8

You’d fallen into a new normal fairly easily. Gracie was loving daycare and the friends she’d made. You’d even managed to set up some playdates for her outside of daycare. You were developing a routine at the Hard Deck, setting up your own system for doing the inventory and falling seamlessly into the work there. You actually really enjoyed it too.

It’d been almost a month since your divorce. Things with Bradley were perfect. You knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was your forever love. He stayed over at the house with you and Gracie often, other nights you’d stay at his house. Neither of you liked sleeping apart.

Trent’s initial court appearance for the violation of the order of protection had been pushed back at the request of his lawyer. You’re not sure what the endgame was, he’d broken the order twice, he was only postponing the inevitable. Your lawyer assured you that you had nothing to worry about. The hearing for custody was scheduled for the following week on Thursday... It had taken longer than you thought to be scheduled, but you tried to stay positive. Gracie’s third birthday was two days later on Saturday and you were already busy planning a party. Jake insisted she needed a huge princess party. Bradley had agreed wholeheartedly, as had the entire Dagger squad.

“Sweetheart, I think we need a castle bounce house.” Bradley said, scrolling through inflatable rentals for the area on his phone.

“Where exactly do you think we’re putting this bounce house, Babe?” You asked, “The backyard is decent sized, but not bounce house sized.”

“You’re right.” He agreed, “We need a bigger venue.”

“You and Jake are out of control.” You laughed, “She’s 3.”

“I know, but this is the first birthday she’s had all of us.” He reasoned, wrapping his arms around you, “And it’s our first birthday with her as a family.”

“You make a good argument, Lieutenant.” You smiled, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him down to claim his lips. “I love our little family… and I love our big extended chaotic family.”

“I love YOU.” He said, smiling against your lips, “And our family.”

“I love you too, Brad.” You replied, kissing him once more before pulling back, “Ok, we’ll find a bigger venue…and get the castle bounce house.”

“We can see if Mav and Penny would let us use their yard?” Bradley suggested, “Or Mav’s hangar?”

“I don’t want to impose on anyone.” You said.

“Sweetheart, I promise they’d jump at the chance.” He assured you. “I’ll ask Mav tomorrow at work.”

Obviously, they’d been more than happy to host the party. Bradley called on his lunch break to let you know. It was your off day from the Hard Deck so you’d taken Gracie to go play at the park and run some errands. You were just getting ready to take her home for a nap when he’d called.

“Hey, Sweetheart, how are my girls?” He asked when you answered the phone on speaker. “We’re just heading home so Gracie can nap.”

“Daddy WOOSTA!” Gracie yelled from the backseat, “Mommy, can we pwease go see Daddy?”

“Hi, Princess,” Bradley replied to her, “Daddy has to go up in his jet in a little bit, Baby Girl. I promise, I’ll come see you tonight when I get done with work, ok?”

“OK, Daddy.” She said, “Wuv you!”

“I love you too, Princess.” He replied.

“Mav and Penny are happy to have her party at their house so we can finish planning with the bigger space in mind.” Bradley said, “There was zero hesitation too, Mav was like a kid at Christmas when I asked.”

“You should have seen Jake’s face last night when I told him there was a possibility of inflatables.” You laughed, “He’s a big kid.”

“We were picking out the perfect one before I called you actually.” He laughed, “Him and Phoenix just ran to grab a quick lunch together. They’re on the ground this afternoon so they get to eat a bigger lunch.”

“Come over tonight when you’re done, I’ll make sure you have a nice big dinner to make up for it.” You promised.

“And cuddles with my girls after?” He asked.

“Definitely.” You agreed.

“I’ll see you after work, Sweetheart.” He said, “Love you.”

“Love you too,” You replied, “Fly safe, Bradley.”

“Always.” He promised.

Party planning continued to go smoothly, although with Jake and Bradley helping, you found yourself having to reign them in constantly. You’d already had to veto the live ponies dressed as unicorns, which you learned later had been Mav’s suggestion.

“Penny, he’s as bad as Jake and Bradley!” You laughed, while unboxing an order of alcohol and stocking it on the shelves in back. “He suggested ponies dressed as unicorns!”

“You should have seen him in the Disney Store the other day when we went to get Gracie’s presents.” Penny replied, shaking her head smiling, “Between him and Amelia, I’m amazed we made it out of there without buying out the entire store.”

“I have to admit though,” You said, pausing from stocking the shelves, “I love seeing how much Bradley loves her, Pen. The amount of excitement he has over making this birthday so special for her, absolutely melts my heart.”

“One thing you will never have to doubt, Sweetie, is how much that man loves and adores that little girl.” She said, “In his eyes, Gracie is already one hundred percent his little girl and it doesn’t matter if there is a piece of paper that declares it, or DNA that proves it. He’s her daddy.”

“I love him so much it sometimes scares me.” You admitted, “I’m almost afraid I’ll wake up and this will all have been just a wonderful dream and I’ll be back in that nightmare of a marriage.”

“That part takes time, Y/N.” Penny said, “But I assure you, this is absolutely real. You’re free of him. Next week, I’m confident the courts will free Gracie from him. Trust that this is now your life and it’s not going anywhere.”

“Thank you, Penny.” You said, smiling, “For everything. You’ve been absolutely amazing.”

“You’re welcome, Sweetie.” She replied, “We’re family. I know you’ve heard it a lot since moving out here, but I’ll keep reminding you. This is just what you do for family.”

Once you finished work that day you picked Gracie up from daycare and headed home. Jake’s truck was already in the driveway when you got there.

“Looks like Uncle Jakey beat us home.” You said, pulling in next to him and turning the car off. You got Gracie out of her carseat and you made your way inside

“We’re home!” You called, walking in. You set your keys in the bowl next to the door and kicked your shoes off, before taking Gracie’s backpack and hanging it on the hook.

Jake came out of the kitchen, still in his flight suit but the top part off, tied around his waist. He must have just gotten home ahead of you.

“There’s my Princess G.” He said, holding his arms out for Gracie. She went straight to him to be hoisted up into a tight hug. You could tell he must have had a rough day.

“Hey, you OK, Jakey?” You asked, concern etched on your face.

“Yeah, I’m ok, Tulip.” He replied, offering a small smile. “Just a long, frustrating day where nothing went right.”

“That why you’re home early?” You asked.

“Yeah.” He sighed, “My plane’s grounded for repairs for a few days. I had a close call in the air today. It shook me.”

You stepped forward wrapping your arms around your brother and daughter as best as you could.

“I’m glad you’re OK, Jakey.” You said, “We’d be lost without you. We love our Jakey.”

“We wuv Unco Jakey.” Gracie agreed.

“I love you girls too.” He said, hugging you both tightly. “Life kinda sucked before y’all showed up on my doorstep. I’m really glad you’re here.”

“We’re really glad we’re here too.” You agreed.

A few hours later, Bradley and Phoenix showed up, both concerned about Jake. Phoenix had been in the air with Jake when he’d ran into problems, her heart in her throat until he’d been safe on the ground. Bradley had been listening from inside his plane, waiting to go up.

“I’m glad you’re OK, man.” Bradley said, “Scared the shit outta us. Thought you’d have to punch out there for a minute.”

“Me too.” He said, “I’m lucky I was able to get the engine to refire so I could save it.”

“Now I know how you felt when I had the bird strike.” Phoenix admitted. “It’s not a great feeling.”

“Darlin’, watching you punch out and your plane actually crash about killed me that day.” Jake said, pulling her into his arms. “I couldn’t get to you fast enough. Then it killed me not to be able to hug the shit out of you and reassure myself you really were OK.”

“New rule.” You said, knowing it wouldn't be enforceable, but needing to say it nonetheless, “No punching out, no crashing, no getting hurt. If you take a plane into the air, you land that plane safely on the ground or carrier you took off from.”

“We’ll do our best, Sweetheart.” Bradley smiled, pulling you against him, kissing the top of your head. “None of us want to punch out or crash. It kinda sucks.”

“It doesn't feel great.” Phoenix confirms. “Even when it’s textbook, that shit hurts.”

Jake and Phoenix ended up heading over to her place that night. Jake knew he’d be in for a rough night and he didn’t want Gracie to see him upset.

After dinner, Bradley and Gacie were playing in the living room while you finished getting the kitchen cleaned up after dinner.

“What are you building, Princess?” Bradley asked her while they built with her legos.

“I making a big big castle.” She replied, “Fow you, mommy and me. So we wiv togever! And Unco Jakey and Aunty Nix too.”

“That is a big big castle.” He smiled, his heart melting. “You’d like it if you, mommy and I all lived together?”

“Yes, Daddy!” She beamed, excitedly at him, before continuing to build.

“Princess, Daddy would love that too.” He replied, his voice thick with emotion. He’d already been thinking about asking you to move in with him. Truth be told, he really wanted to marry you, but he knows you just got out of a really bad marriage and you might not be in a hurry to jump into another marriage. He made a mental note to talk to Jake tomorrow though, he wanted to get his blessing to proceed, knowing it would be important to you.

Later that night long after Gracie was tucked into bed you and Bradley were laying in bed cuddling before going to sleep. You were tucked into his side, your arm draped over his middle, fingers tracing patterns over his chest.

“Have you noticed that lately Gracie has started to drop the Woosta and just call you Daddy?” You asked, tipping your head up to look at him.

“I have.” He replied, a smile playing on his lips, “I’ll admit, as much as I loved hearing her say ‘Woosta’ and being ‘Daddy Woosta’, just being ‘Daddy’ is a whole new and amazing feeling, Sweetheart.”

“I know it happened really fast and we didn’t really talk about it in depth…” You said, “You’re really OK with her calling you Daddy? I just don’t want you to ever feel like you were forced into that role…”

“Sweetheart.” He said, stopping you. He pulled you up and flipped you both so you were lying eye to eye on the bed. “I am one hundred percent on board here. Being Gracie’s Daddy is an honor that I am so grateful you’re trusting me with. From now until forever, that little girl is my little Princess. I’m her Daddy.”

“I love you Bradley Bradshaw.” You whispered, tears falling down your cheeks.

“I love you too, Y/N Seresin.” He replied, gently wiping the tears away and leaning in to kiss you. “From now until forever.”

Bradley’s POV

The next day at work, he went to find Jake in one of the classrooms before he had to go up in the air to fly maneuvers.  He’d already talked to Phoenix earlier that morning, needing her take on the situation before tackling the conversation with Jake. She assured him that it wasn’t crazy to be thinking about moving in or marriage this soon, that sometimes the right people meet at the right time and it’s just meant to be. She also said that he had nothing to worry about with Jake.

“Hey, you have a minute?” Bradley asked, walking into the classroom Jake was using that day.

“I’ve got nothing but minutes until my plane’s fixed.” He replied, “What’s up?”

Bradley made his way in and hopped up on one of the tables at the front, fidgeting nervously.

“Rooster.” Jake laughed, “What’s up, man? Why are you acting so damn flighty?”

“I was playing legos with Gracie last night.” He said, deciding to start with the easier of the two questions. “I asked her what she was building and she said it was a ‘big big castle’ so that her, Y/N and I can all live together. With room for Unco Jakey and Aunty Nix of course… that might be negotiable though.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure with that one.” Jake said laughing, “Princess G is a determined little one and would find a way to make it all happen. What did you tell her?”

“I just told her it’s something I’d really like too.” He replied, “I didn’t want to make any promises I couldn’t deliver. She’s started to call me Daddy though more and more instead of Daddy Woosta… and I REALLY like that.”

“Have you talked to Tulip?” Jake asked, “What’s her take?”

“On the title or living arrangements”? He asked.

“Both.” Jake clarified, “I’d say both are pretty big.”

“She’s the one who asked if I’d noticed the change in my title with Gracie last night, and asked if I was really Ok with her calling me Daddy.” He said, “I definitely reassured her that I’m more than happy that Gracie calls me Daddy because as far as I’m concerned she IS my little girl.”

“Ok, so that’s good.” Jake shrugged, “And did you talk to her about moving in?”

“That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about today.” Bradley admitted. “Seemed like something I should run by you… both because you’ve become my best friend and because you’re the most important person in Y/N’s life.”

“Bradley, I’d have already run ya off if I had a problem with you being with my sister.” Jake said, smiling, “You’re probably the only one I WOULD trust with her heart and with Gracie. I pretty much knew from the beginning that they were going to steal your heart and that you’d be the one to claim Tulip’s. Moving in together is the logical next step. As much as I love them being with me, at least I’ll know that with you they’re both happy and safe…and in the same damn town.”

“Thanks, Jake.” Bradley said, “That means a lot. Honestly, it was game over for me the first day when Gracie threw her arms around me and called me ‘Woosta’. I’d have given that girl anything she wanted that day.”

“Remember that when she’s a teenager, sneaking in after curfew and trying to use those big eyes and dimples against you.” Jake laughed.

“Oh Shit” Bradley groaned, “I’m never letting her leave the house. I know what teenage boys are like. They can’t go near her.”

“Good luck with that.” Jake said, “Give me a call though, I’ll be backup. What was the other thing you wanted to talk to me about?”

“It’s more of a asking now for later kinda thing.” Bradley said. “I don’t know if or when Y/N would be ready to even think about marrying again… but if she’s ever on board to give it another shot… would you be OK with  me asking your sister to marry me?”

“Of course I am.” Jake said, standing and yanking Bradley off the table into a rough hug, clapping him on the back before stepping back, smiling widely. “She might surprise you, Man. You probably won’t have to wait as long as you think until she’s ready. You may want to start thinking about rings. I see the way my sister looks at you…it’s the same way I look at Nat. Between you and me and the walls… I’ve been thinking along those lines myself lately.”

“No shit!” Bradley exclaimed, “Proposing or moving in? Both?”

“Both.” Jake said, “It’s been on constant repeat since yesterday with the not so nice reminder that with this job we never know what the next day will bring. I just don’t know if it’s too soon. I don’t want to spook her.”

“I acutally was talking to her this morning before I came to talk to you.” Bradley said, “Kinda needed reassurance that I wasn’t about to die for one, and that I wasn’t rushing things. She told me not to buy into the whole social norm timeline for relationships bullshit. Two people meet or come together when they’re supposed to and it doesn't matter what the timeline is. Plus, let’s be honest, the two of you have been flirting with the idea of being together long before you made the move to BE together so that counts towards the bogus timeline right?”

“So… ring shopping this weekend?” Jake asked, chuckling, “To be prepared…”

“I have my mom’s ring that I was planning on giving Y/N, but I will absolutely go with you.” Bradley said. “How do you think Gracie will take the news that we won’t have a castle for all of us to live together?”

“We promise her Disneyland.” Jake said, “And weekend sleepovers with her favorite Uncle and Aunty Nix.”

“So…bribery?” Bradley clarified.

“Yup!” Jake laughed.

Your POV

By the time the weekend rolled around, you knew that Jake and Bradley were definitely plotting something. There’d been a lot of hushed conversations and text messages back and forth. Friday you and Phoenix had enlisted Bob’s help at the weekly dinner to try to ferret out information without any luck. You’d even contemplated using your own daughter.

“Those two plotting together makes me nervous.” Phoenix admitted while you were cleaning up the kitchen together after dinner on Friday night.

“EXACTLY!” You exclaimed, “Whatever it is, probably means trouble. I think I saw them bringing Mav into the mix too.”

“We may need to ask Penny to see if she can put out feelers.” Phoenix suggested, “If anyone can reign in Mav and the boys in it’ll be her.”

“Or at least find out what’s going in.” You reasoned.

“If nothing else, I’ll work on Jake tomorrow night while we’re hanging with Gracie.” Phoenix said

“Am I being kicked out for a super fun fort night again?” You asked, confused. Before she could respond Bradley and Jake came in carrying the rest of the dishes.

“Not being kicked out.” Jake laughed, “So dramatic, Tulip.”

“I asked if Jake and Phoenix had plans, and if they minded if I stole you for a date night ahead the upcoming week.” Bradley said, wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his chin on the top of your head. “I know this week is going to be a rollercoaster, so before it gets crazy, I wanted to carve out some time for the two of us.”

“And it’s a win-win, because we get time with Princess G.” Jake said.

“Speaking of…”Phoenix said, “Where is the little nugget?”

“With Mav.” Bradley chuckled. You turned in his arms so you were facing him, wrapping your own arms around his neck and stealing a quick kiss.

“I’d love time for just the two of us tomorrow night.” You told him, “I’m really hoping that by this time next week everything will be settled and we won’t have anything left to worry about.”

“You and me both, Baby.” He replied, kissing you softly.

The next morning Jake and Bradley disappeared for several hours. You definitely made a mental note to ask Penny if she knew what the two were plotting. You decided to call Phoenix to see if she wanted to go shopping for some birthday party supplies.

“Since our men are off on a top secret mission, do you want to go get some party supplies for Gracie’s birthday with me?” You asked her.

“Absolutely!” She agreed, “Give me like twenty minutes and I’ll head over.”

“We can pick you up.” You suggested, “Save you a trip.”

“I’ll need my car tomorrow anyway, this way I’ll already be there when it’s time for you and Bradley to go out.” She said.

“Makes sense.” You agreed, “Maybe we just need one giant house at this point instead of three separate dwellings.”

“You might be onto something.” She laughed.

Once Phoenix had arrived you all headed out to the party store. You put Gracie in the cart and headed straight to the Princess aisle, gathering up plates, cups, napkins and other decorations you’d need. Phoenix insisted on a helium tank and enough balloons to float the house. By the time you left the store your trunk was loaded with supplies.

“How about we run to the Disney store and let Gracie pick out a princess dress to wear to her party?” Phoenix said. “We’ve got time before the boys are done on their mission I’m sure.”

“Those dresses are super expensive.” You said, “Any luck getting info from Jake on that?”

“It’ll be my treat for her. She needs a princess dress for a princess party.” Phoenix insisted. “And nope, he kept changing the subject then distracted me.”

“Bradley did the same thing.” You laughed. “And, are you sure? We can find a princess dress cheaper I’m sure…”

“Y/N, Disney Store. NOW.” She replied, playfully glaring at you, before turning to look at Gracie in the back, “Sweet girl, do you want to go pick out a Princess dress from the Disney Store for your birthday party with Aunty Nix?”

“YES!” Gracie exclaimed, “I wuv you Aunty Nix!”

“I love you too, Gracie!” Phoenix said, turning back to smile widely at you. “See? My girl wants a princess dress.”

“When she’s a teenager and still expecting the princess treatment, I’m sending her to you and Jake.” You laughed.

“We’ll take her.” She agreed, getting a soft dreamy look on her face. “Honestly, I love the idea of still being with Jake when Gracie is a teenager.”

“I have no doubts that you will be.” You assured her. “My brother is absolutely in love with you, Nat. I’ve never seen him as happy as he is with you, nor have I ever seen him as content. He’s himself with you, he lets his guard down and is the most at peace around you. He’s never been that way with anyone else before.”

“I love him too.” She said, “Completely in love with him. Not going to lie… it scared the crap out of me at first. I started to see cracks in the cocky Hangman exterior after that last mission, but it was when you and Gracie got here that I really got to see the softer side of him. You say it’s me that brings it out in him, but I think it’s you and Gracie that brought that out in him.”

“So we call it a group effort.” You compromised, chuckling. “The point is… He’s not going anywhere. His heart belongs to you, Nat.”

“That’s good because mine belongs to him too.” She smiled.

Jake’s POV

They’d left that morning once the jewelers had opened. Phoenix had gone back to her apartment late the night before, saying she needed to get some laundry and stuff done there. It made it easier only having to get past Tulip. He knew she was suspicious, but hopefully she’d just think they were plotting something for Gracie’s birthday.

“How can I help you gentlemen this morning?” An older man asked, greeting them from behind the glass counter filled with rings. He was smiling at them as they stepped closer to the cases.

“We’re shopping for engagement rings.” Jake replied, already starting to feel overwhelmed by the sheer options.

“Well congratulations.” He said, looking at Bradley, “What do you have in mind”

“Not me!” Bradley laughed, “I’m here for moral support.”

“My apologies, Sir.” The man said, turning red. Jake looked over at Bradley laughing, relaxing immediately.

“It’s fine.” Bradley said, “That’s definitely going into the best man speech!”

“Of course it is.” Jake chucked, shaking his head. “Nat’s gotta say ‘yes’ first though.”

“She will.” Bradley said confidently, his eyes wandering over all of the options. “What are you thinking for her?”

“She’s not really into flashy jewelry.” Jake said, “I’ve never really seen her wear anything more than earrings and occasionally a simple necklace when we go out.”

“And she’s not going to want anything that’ll get in the way when we’re flying.” Bradley pointed out. “If she decides to wear it while flying. She may opt to put it on dog tags or leave it on the ground.”

“Maybe we should have let Tulip in on this mission and brought her along.” Jake groaned. “What does your mom’s ring look like? Maybe that’ll give me a starting point?”

“It’s a solitaire set in a gold band.” He replied, “It’s pretty simple, but it meant the world to her. I’m actually thinking I’ll bring Y/N in and we can get wedding bands to match it, that way she still gets something new.”

“Rooster, you know she won’t care about it not being new right?” Jake asked, “The fact that it was your moms and has meaning to you will make it the most precious thing in the world to her.”

“I know.” He shrugged, “I just figured that after everything she’s been through, she deserves a little bit of new and spoiling.”

“I have no doubt that she and Gracie will be plenty spoiled.” Jake said, “OK, so let’s start with solitaires.”

“Those are over here.” The man behind the counter said, directing them over to the case with all of the solitaire sets. “We have several options to choose from, as well as matching wedding bands.”

“Shit there are a lot of choices.” Jake sighed, “Ok, so set or solitaire and band? What’s the difference?”

“The set can be welded together so it would become one ring after the wedding.” The man replied, “Some prefer that as opposed to having two separate rings.”

“Ok, that makes sense.” Jake replied, “I think she’d probably rather have that.”

“I think so too.” Bradley agreed. “Less to keep track of.”

“Perfect. Set it is.” Jake said, “That narrows it down some.”

“Does she wear more gold or silver jewelry?” Bradley asked, “I never really pay attention.”

“I think gold.” Jake replied. “I know the necklace she normally wears is a gold pendant.”

“Ok, I’d go with a gold band then.” Bradley suggested, scanning the case of rings.

They both looked over the solitaire case but nothing really jumped out at either one of them.

“Perhaps, something a little more detailed than a solitaire set but not overly showy will be more to her taste?” The man suggested, “We have some lovely sets over here that showcase a larger center stone with smaller stones to the sides that also have matching wedding bands. They’re simple, elegant, and quite stunning.”

He directed them to a case further down the row with rings that were a little more elaborate than the solitaire sets yet still not overly flashy, just as he’d described.

Jake let his gaze wander over the options trying to picture them on Nat’s finger before falling on that looked perfect.

“That one!” He exclaimed, pointing to the set closest to him in the front. “May I see that one, please?”

“Certainly.” The man smiled, pulling the set from the case and gently setting it in front of Jake. It was a yellow gold set, the engagement ring had a larger center diamond just like the man had said then tiny diamonds making up the band about ¾ away around the band. The wedding band was contoured to fit with the engagement band and had tiny diamonds paved into ¾ of the band as well. It was beautiful and elegant without being gaudy and overly flashy. It was simple but not plain. It was perfect.

“This is the one.” Jake said. “I’ll take it.”

“Umm, shouldn’t you maybe find out a price on that first?” Bradley asked, chuckling.

“Doesn't matter.” Jake said, shrugging, “She’s worth it.”

The man went to start the paperwork and process the sale. Jake felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. It felt like his body was on fire and breathing was becoming very difficult.

“Jake.” Bradley said firmly, seeing the change in him. He turned to the salesman, “Do you have a bottle of water at all?”

“Yes.” He said, hurrying to the back room and returning quickly with a bottle of water in hand.

“Jake, take a drink man,” Bradley ordered, “Slow deep breaths and concentrate on taking a few sips of water.”

Jake took the bottle, sipping slowly, trying to stay focused on just taking oxygen into his lungs and slowing his heart rate.

“If you’re not ready for this, we can totally come back another day.” Bradley assured him, “You don’t have to jump into anything. There is absolutely no rush.”

“It’s not that.” Jake whispered, “I am ready. I love her. I want to marry her… it just… it got real… and every time I’ve ever gotten really close to actual happiness or my life being really good… it’s all gotten yanked from under me. I guess… I just… panicked.”

“I get that.” Bradley said, putting his hand on Jake’s shoulder. “It’s easy to panic when things go well and everything falls into place when you’re so used to it all going to hell or the floor dropping out from under you when you think you’re on solid ground. But one thing I’ve managed to learn since coming back to Top Gun and even more recently since meeting your sister… is sometimes… it’s ok to trust the good stuff. Life doesn’t always have to suck. People don’t always leave. It’s ok to let others in.”

“The world won’t come crashing down?” Jake asked, a small smile finally making its way to his lips as he glanced over to Bradley.

“Nope.” Bradley replied, returning the smile, “The world just gets bigger and brighter. It gives you even more reason to come home. Hell, man it makes this life MORE worth living. Because let’s face it, were we REALLY living before we let those women in? Honestly?”

“I’d call it more existing.” He agreed. “Ok… this is me… trusting that the universe is not going to turn against me here. I’m going to buy the ring, and when the moment is right, I’m asking Nat to marry me.”

“And we’ll all be there to celebrate the two of you  when she says ‘yes’.” Bradley said, clapping him on the back. “Come on, it’s time to go drain your bank account.”

“Worse case scenario, we find that really big house that Gracie wants and we all live together to help cut down on other expenses.” Jake teased, walking over to the counter. “Sorry about that, Sir. What’s the damage?”

“Nothing I’ve not seen before, I assure you.” He smiled gently, before giving him the total. It wasn’t nearly as bad as either of them imagined. Needless to say Jake would not need to empty any accounts. He did however decide to use his credit card because while it wasn’t an exorbitant amount of money, it wasn’t chump change either. Growing up the way they had, he never felt comfortable running his accounts too low now.

Once the ring had been paid for, the salesman polished the rings and placed them both in separate ring boxes then into a small bag. After thanking him for this help, Jake and Bradley headed out of the store and towards Jake’s truck.

“Alright, now I have to hide this until the right moment…” Jake said, “And try not to panic and word vomit the second I see her.”

“That would not make for a very romantic proposal story for your children one day.” Bradley laughed. “I word vomited after buying Mommy a ring…”

“I think that’s why I love when we get to keep Gracie for Tulip when y’all have date nights.” Jake admitted, “I love watching Nat with her… it’s easy to imagine how it’ll be with our own kids one day.”

“I get it.” Bradley smiled, “I get the same feeling when I’m with Y/N and Gracie. I’d love to have more kids with her too.”

“Gracie needs a baby brother.” Jake agreed, smirking, “Maybe name him Bradford Bradley Bradshaw?”

“You know, I’m really happy nobody suggested that to my parents when they were naming me.” Bradley said, glaring at Jake. “We will not be continuing that trend…I won’t do that to my kid.”

Your POV

After the trek to the Disney store, where Gracie had indeed found the perfect dress and matching accessories (Nat had insisted they were needed), you all stopped for lunch before heading back to the house. You ended up pulling into the driveway at the same time as Jake and Bradley.

“Where did you lovely ladies adventure to?” Jaked asked, getting out of the truck.

“Unco Jakey!”  Gracie called from the backseat, “Out! Out! Pwease!”

“You’re being paged, Uncle Jakey.” You laughed, as you got out and went around to the trunk. “We went to get party supplies for Gracie’s party and then Aunty Nix insisted on a trip to the Disney Store for Gracie Girl’s outfit for the party.”

“Let me grab the bags, Sweetheart.” Bradley said, coming over and stealing a kiss, “Missed you this morning.”

“Missed you too,” You smiled, kissing him back. “Did you and Jake have fun?”

“Yeah, it was good.” He replied, smirking, “We accomplished our mission.”

“You’re not gonna tell me what it was are you?” You asked, laughing.

“Nope.” He confirmed, “Not happening, Baby.”

“Worth a shot.” You shrugged, smiling, “Come on, let’s get this inside. Gracie needs to go down for a nap.”

Phoenix came around and helped the two of you carry all of the bags inside while Jake carried Gracie into the house. You put all the bags with supplies in the laundry room for the time being so they were out of the way.

“Gracie, it's time for your nap, sweet girl.” You said, finding her sitting on Jake’s lap on the couch, telling him all about the Disney Store.

“You can show me your dress when you wake up my sweet Princess G.” Jake promised.  

“Ok, Unco Jakey.” She agreed. “Daddy, you take me nite nite?”

“I sure will, Princess.” Bradley smiled at her, walking over to scoop her up into his arms. “Give Mommy hugs and kisses first.”

“Sweet dreams, Gracie girl.” You said, hugging and kissing your daughter. “Love you.”

“Wuv you too Mommy.” She replied, hugging you back. “Wuv you Aunty Nix and Unco Jakey.”

“We love you too.” They replied as Bradley carried her off to bed.

Bradley left after Gracie woke up to go get ready for your date. He hadn’t wanted to leave while she was sleeping and risk upsetting her. As promised she immediately demanded to show off her new princess dress and accessories to Jake as soon as she’d woken up. You and Phoenix helped her into the outfit and she paraded into the living room to show her uncle. You knew right away you’d have your hands full once she hit the teenage years.

“Wow, Princess G.” Jake exclaimed, “You look absolutely beautiful, sweetheart! Just like a real life princess!”

Gracie beamed at the praise, twirling in the living room to show off the dress, full of giggles. All three of you had your phones out snapping pictures and taking video.

“You’re going to be the prettiest princess in all the land and especially the prettiest at your party, Sweet Girl.” You told her. “Let’s take it off though for now so it doesn't get ruined before your party ok? Do you want to put on one of your costume Disney dresses?”

“Yes pwease!” She exclaimed, not quite ready to be done with dress up, but not wanting to ruin her new dress either.

A while later, Jake and Phoenix send you off to go get ready for your date, taking over with Gracie. You’re not exactly sure what Bradley has planned but you know it doesn’t involve blanket forts this time. You took a quick shower and freshened up, opting to not wash your hair as that would take too much time to style afterwards.

You went through your closet, not really sure what to wear. You really needed to think about expanding your wardrobe, but really hated to shop for yourself.

“Nat!” You called out from your open door, a towel wrapped around you, “I’m having a wardrobe crisis!”

“On my way!” She yelled from the kitchen where she was helping Jake cook. A minute later she slipped into the room, “Alright, what do we have to work with?”

“Not much.” You sighed, “I don’t know where we’re going or what we’re doing and I don’t have a whole lot of options.”

“Ok, no worries.” She assured you, “We’ll find something. You’ve got some pretty dresses, we can glam up or make them casual depending on what we need. Want to text Rooster to find out what the evening calls for?”

“Good idea.” You replied, “I’ll just call him though. It’s faster.”  You grab your phone from the bed and call Bradley.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” He answered, “Everything ok?”

“No.” You replied, sighing “I have no idea what to wear because I don’t know where we’re going and I’m currently hating my closet.”

“Ok, well that’s an easy fix.” He laughed, “I’m sorry you’re hating your closet, Sweetheart. We can go shopping and find clothes you don’t hate. I’ll even happily carry all your bags and will make sure you have an unlimited supply of iced coffees while we shop.”

“I love you.” You replied, smiling, all of the anxiety that had been building suddenly melted away, “I’m sorry for the mini freak out.”

“I love you too.” He replied, “And you’re allowed any sized freak out whenever. You don’t have to apologize for that. As for the date tonight… I’m picking up take out and we’re having a picnic on the beach. Then coming home to get comfy and cuddle in bed and watch a movie and eat snacks. Does that help?”

“Yes.” You replied, “It helps a lot. And it sounds absolutely perfect.”

“I’ll pick you up in a little bit, Sweetheart.” He promised, “I love you.”

“I’ll be ready.” You replied, “Love you too.”

After hanging up you took a deep cleansing breath then turned to Phoenix.

“Ok, we need something for a beach picnic.” You said, “Then we’re going back to his house and watching a movie and eating snacks, so I’ll just steal one of his tshirts at that point. The man is literally perfect.”

“He definitely knows how to read you.” She smiled, “Last night he was trying to decide between a big fancy dinner date or a more low key just the two of you no pressure kinda date. I’m guessing the phone call just now may have tipped the scales.”

“Oh God, you mean he may have had reservations somewhere and just completely threw his plan out the window because I’m a basketcase?” You said, on the verge of another freak out.

“And even if he did,” Phoenix assured you, “He would be absolutely fine in canceling it and changing it last minute if it meant making you happy. That man will do literally anything in his power if it puts a smile on your face. But more importantly, that’s what we do for those we love… we adjust as the situation calls for it. Jake and I would do the same for one another. It’s normal, Y/N.”

“I’ve never had ‘normal’” You admitted, “But, I would do the same for him.”

“See? Perfectly normal and healthy relationship.” She smiled, “Now, come on, let’s get you ready and on your way to your perfect date.”

Twenty minutes later you were dressed in a simple maxi skirt with a tshirt knotted at the waist and a pair of sandals. You were alerted to Bradley’s arrival by Gracie’s squeal of delight at her Daddy walking in the front door..

You made your way out to the living room to find Bradley already on the floor playing with Gracie. Jake and Phoenix were in the kitchen finishing up getting dinner ready for the three of them.

“You look beautiful, Sweetheart.” Bradley said looking up and smiling from his spot on the floor.

“Thank you.” You replied, smiling back at him, “You’re looking pretty handsome yourself.”

“Princess G, dinner’s ready.” Jake said coming out of the kitchen, looking over at you he smiled, “You look beautiful, Tulip.”

“Thanks Jakey.” You smiled back, “And thank you again for keeping Gracie tonight.”

“No thanks needed for that!” Jake replied, “I never turn down time with my favorite Princess.”

Bradley stood up and scooped Gacie up with him, hugging her and giving her lots of kisses making her giggle.

“Daddy!” She exclaimed, “That tickles!”

“Just getting all the kisses to power me up!” He reasoned, chuckling.

“Come give Mommy hugs and kisses, Gracie.” You said, holding your hands out to her and taking her from Bradley. “I love you, Sweet girl. Be good for Uncle Jakey and Aunty Nix and Mommy will see you tomorrow, ok?”

“Ok, Mommy.” She said, hugging you back, “I wuv you too!”

You set her down and she ran off to the kitchen.

“Have fun you two.” Jake said, winking, “See you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, man,” Bradley said, “Ready to go, Sweetheart?”

“I am,” You replied, “Let me grab my bag quickly.”

Bradley drove you to a semi private beach and pulled the Bronco into a parking spot. He came around to open your door and help you down from the passenger seat before reaching into the back to grab a blanket and a picnic basket before taking your hand and leading you down to the beach.

“Where did you find an actual picnic basket?” You asked him, as you walked to a secluded part on the beach.

“I borrowed it from Penny.” He replied, setting the basket down to spread the blanket out on the sand. You helped him to smooth out the corners, slipping your shoes off to set at the edge.

“Did you change plans last minute because I was freaking out?” You asked, wanting to confirm Phoenix’s theory.

“I decided in the moment that this would be more in line with what you needed is all.” He replied, smiling softly, “I know this week is going to be a lot for you and the last thing I wanted was to add to the stress and anxiety. This way it’s just the two of us, no stress or pressure.”

“I love you so much, Bradley.” You beamed, leaning over towards where he was seated and softly kissing him, “You’re so good to me, I’m so lucky to have you.”

“I love you too, Sweetheart.” He replied, kissing you back, “And I am the lucky one. You’ve literally given me a family, Baby… so much more than I ever thought I’d have in my life.”

“We’re not going anywhere.” You smiled. “Gracie and I are all yours.”

Bradley pulled out the food from the basket along with glasses and a bottle of wine. He’d picked up Italian take out from the restaurant you’d gone to on your first date.

“Recreating our first date?” You asked, smiling.

“The good parts.” He replied, filling your glass of wine. “Let’s change the ending though.”

“I’ll drink to that.” You laughed. “I’d say your odds of getting me in bed tonight are VERY good, Lieutenant.”

“I can work with those odds.” He smirked, “That would make for a much better ending than the first date for sure.”

“It would indeed.” You agreed. “Although, technically you got me in bed that night too.”

The two of you ate your dinner, talking, laughing and flirting with one another. You only drank a couple glasses of the wine, Bradley only drinking one because he was driving. You put the cork back into the bottle to save it for later.

“Want to go for a walk before we head back to the house?” Bradley asked, once you’d both finished eating.

“That sounds perfect.” You replied.

He stood up and reached his hand down to help you up. You both left your shoes on the blanket, walking barefoot in the sand along the water.  You walked hand in hand just enjoying the beautiful evening. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, casting a pinkish glow to the horizon.

“The other day, when Gracie and I were playing, I asked her what she was building…” Bradley said, stopping and pulling you around to face him. “She told me she was building a big castle for you, me and her to live in… and Uncle Jake and Aunty Nix.”

“That would need to be a pretty big castle.” You smiled.

“I don’t think we’ll find any big castles in southern California near the naval base.” Bradley said, “But… I would really love for you and Gracie to move in with me…or for us to find a place closer to Jake if need be for Gracie…I just really want to live with my girls. Will you and Gracie live with me, Sweetheart?”

“We absolutely will!” You smiled widely, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers threading into his hair, “Your house is already perfect, Bradley. There’s no need to find anything new. We just want to be with you too.”

“I talked to Jake about it already,” He admitted, “I wasn’t sure how Gracie would do with being separated from him again. We came up with a plan… it involves occasional sleepovers at Uncle Jake’s on the weekends and a trip to Disneyland to soften the blow.”

“So bribery?” You laughed.

“Yup!” Bradey agreed, “Also, I figured we’d recreate her Princess room for her at our house… so it’ll be a win-win for her.”

“I think the fact that she’ll be living with YOU full time will be enough of an enticement.” You smiled, “I like the sound of that though, ‘our house’.”

“As of right now Sweetheart, that’s exactly what it is.” He said.

“In that case,” You said, “How about we go collect our stuff and go home, Lieutenant?”

“That’s a fantastic idea.” He agreed, leaning down to capture your lips before spinning you both around and heading back down the beach towards your stuff.

Bradley pulled the Bronco into the driveway, shutting off the ignition and getting out to come around to help you out. Instead of helping you down from the Bronco, he swept you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style towards the house.

“Bradley!” You exclaimed, laughing, “What are you doing?”

“I’m carrying you over the threshold into our home.” He replied, winking at you as he carefully maneuvered to unlock the door without dropping you. “It’s tradition.”

“I don’t think that applies to moving in together.” You answered, smiling at him, “That’s marriage.”

“Well, we’re making our own rules here.” He said, stepping into the house and kicking the door closed with his foot. “Welcome home, Sweetheart.”

“I love you,” You said, pulling his head down to kiss him gently.

“I love you too.” He replied against your lips, “I can’t wait to move you and Gracie in here” He let you slide down so you were standing in front of him, but kept you wrapped in his arms. Leaning down again to place gentle kisses along your jawline, moving to your ear and down your neck.

“And when do you think you’re wanting that to happen?” You ask, your fingers threading into his hair, your head tipping to the slide to allow him easier access to your neck.

“Tomorrow too soon?” He asked, nipping at your ear, causing a shiver to run down your body.

“We might need more than a day to get things ready and to make that happen.” You replied, your voice shaky, “But we’ll go with soon.”

“ASAP.” He said, kissing his way back up before claiming your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth meeting your own. His hands moved down over the curve of your hips, around to your butt, pulling you tighter into him.

Your hands wandered down to the buttons on his shirt, undoing them one by one until you could slide the shirt off his shoulders, letting it pool on the floor at his feet. He was left in a white fitted tank top that you quickly pulled from where it was tucked into his jeans and pushed it up and off of him with his help, throwing it to land with his other shirt.  You let your fingers wander over his broad shoulders, gently tracing a scar on his left shoulder…moving up on your tiptoes to gently trail kisses where your fingers had been, drawing a soft moan from Bradley. His hands are resting on your hips, giving you free reign at the moment. You continue to trail soft kisses over his chest, sternum, and collarbone, moving up to your tiptoes to kiss along the scar on his neck , letting your tongue lick along the raised edge.

“Shit, Baby, you’re driving me crazy.” He groaned, his voice thick with need, “You’re so fucking hot.”

“You’re pretty damn hot yourself, Roo.” You said, nipping at the sensitive skin on his neck by his ear. “Feel like moving this to our bedroom?”

“Jesus, Sweetheart.” He rasped, lifting you off the ground, causing you to laugh and wrap your legs around him as best as you could with your skirt in the way. He hurried up the stairs to the master bedroom, not stopping until he was in the room and falling with you onto the bed, causing you both to erupt into a fit of giggles.

“Hi.” You whispered, once you’d both stopped giggling. You were lying under him on the bed, he was bracing himself on his arms to keep the majority of his weight off of you.

“Hi, Baby.” He replied, leaning down to peck your lips in a soft gentle kiss, before moving down to slowly trail kisses to your neck and the shell of your ear, whispering “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.”

“What do you plan to do about it.” You asked, squirming against him, trying to gain friction where you needed it the most.

In reply, he sat back up, pulling you with him. He continued to kiss over your neck as he hands ran over sides, to the knot at the front of your tshirt undoing it and pulling it up over your head. He tossed the shirt off to the side, not caring where it landed.

“You’re so damn beautiful, Sweetheart.” He said, his eyes roaming over the skin he’d exposed. His hands ghosted over your  breasts, moving to your shoulders, bending his head to allow his mouth to follow the path of his hands. He reached around to undo the clasp of your bra, before gently peeling it away from your body and tossing it to join your shirt on the floor. “Lay back, Baby.”

You laid back against the pillow, giving him easy viewing access to your now half naked self.

“Bradley” You moaned, “Please… I need you…” You could feel an ache building deep inside that only Bradley would be able to satiate.  

“What do you need, Sweetheart?” He asked, leaning down to plant kisses over your collarbone, moving down towards the tops of your breasts. His hand moves to your right breast, gently squeezing before his thumb rubs over the sensitive nipple.

“Need you to touch me” You begged, your hands threading into his hair.

“I am touching you.” He teased, chuckling. He dipped his head down, his hot tongue licking over your nipple before taking the whole thing into his mouth, sucking hard and effectively stopping any train of thought you were capable of. You gasped, moaning his name, your fingers tightening in his hair.

“Brad…” You cry out, releasing your fingers from his hair and moving your hands down over his shoulders to his back, fingers digging into him wherever you can reach. “Fuck… feels so good.”

He moved his hands down to the waistband of your skirt, his mouth following over your skin, trailing kisses down your torso before he’s sitting up, and tugging off your skirt and panties in one motion. You let out a breathy giggle at his sudden impatience to have you completely naked.

“Now you’re the one wearing too many clothes, Lieutenant.” You teased, sitting up. You move your hands to the button of his jeans, undoing it and slowly lowering the zipper, your hands brushing against his arousal in the process. With the newly found access, you run your  hand over his hardened cock now only covered by his boxers, wrapping your fingers around as best as you can, stroking him with his pants still around his hips.

“Baby, as fucking amazing as that feels,” He moaned, “I have other plans that don’t include me coming in my boxers with you stroking me off.”

“Hmm and what do these plans include then?” You asked, smiling at him innocently, continuing to apply pressure but moving lower on his shaft.

“You’re a minx.” He growled, grabbing your hands and pinning you back against the bed, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss, his tongue pushing into your mouth to dance over your own. After a moment he pulled away so you could both catch your breath while he took the time to finally divest himself of his jeans and boxers before moving back up over you. “My turn, Sweetheart.” he said, sliding his hands up your thighs, his thumbs moving to your inner thighs, pulling your legs apart to expose your already wet center.

“All this for me, Baby?” He asked, running one hand over through slick folds, drawing a moan from your lips. He maneuvered himself down onto the bed so he was now lying between your thighs, his broad shoulders now keeping you spread open, his arms coming around to brace himself and cradle your sides.  You nearly jolted off the bed at the first swipe of his tongue through your folds, the only thing keeping you secured to the bed was his body. “Fuck you taste good, Sweetheart.”

“Brad…” You whimpered, arching towards him, needing him to sooth the deep ache he’d created in your core. Your hands fisted in the sheets at your sides, desperately trying to anchor yourself to something. “Please…”

“I’ve got you, Baby.” He promised, dipping his head again and licking a stripe through your wet folds once more before latching his mouth to your clit and sucking, causing you to cry out his name. He continued to run his tongue over your pussy and clit, alternating between licking and sucking, driving your pleasure higher and higher. Your hands moved from the deathgrip they had on the sheets, to your fingernails scraping over his shoulders, to finally threading your fingers into his hair, holding his head to you.

“So close…” You gasped, “Bradley…. Gonna cum.” You panted, trying to suck in oxygen, the band of pleasure tightening in your belly, each swipe of his tongue driving you impossibly higher.

“Let go for me, Baby.” He said, looking up at you. He latched his mouth onto your clit, sucking hard as he thrust his ring and middle fingers into your pussy, curling them in a ‘come here’ motion, hitting your g spot. It was enough to snap the band and send you soaring over the ledge into an intense orgasm, your inner walls clenching down around his fingers.

“Bradley!” You cried out, “Oh fuck!” He continued to slowly move his fingers in and out of your pussy while you rode out the orgasm, waiting for you to come down, kissing your inner thigh and whispering words of praise.

“You doing, OK, Sweetheart?” He asked, smirking up at you from his position.

“Up here… now.” You replied, reaching for him. He happily complied, moving so he was once more leaning over you, his lips coming down to claim yours. You let one hand move to wander over his back, the other moving between you to stroke over his now very hard cock, precum leaking from the tip. “I need you inside me… want you to fill me up, Bradley.”

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” He growled, attacking your lips in a fiery messy kiss, tongues battling for dominance, teeth nipping at your lower lip, before he pulled back to gasp, “Guide me home, Baby.”  He returned to kissing you fiercely, bringing his hand up to thread into your hair, his other arm supporting his weight so as not to crush you. You stroked his shaft from base to tip twice before lining him up with your entrance, his tip slipping into your folds, gathering your slickness before he pushed in further. You brought your arm around so both hands were now moving over his back, fingers digging in. You wrapped your legs around his waist, opening up and allowing him more access.

“Don’t tease, Bradley.” You whined, when he still hadn’t pushed all the way in. “Need you, please!” you started to beg.

Unable to deny you, he thrust fully into you, his hips slamming against your own as he fully seated himself inside of you, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix. The movement caused you both to let out a deep moan, clinging to one another in desperate need.  He gave you a moment to adjust to his size, even though you’d been sleeping together now since your divorce was finalized, Bradley was still well endowed and you needed a moment to adjust each time.

“I’m good.” You gasped, letting him know he could move now, arching up into him and clenching your inner muscles.

“Oh, shit you feel so damn good, Sweetheart.” He groaned, “Taking me so well…” He started to pull back until he was almost all of the way out and then slammed back down, pushing all of the way in again. He set a  steady pace, moving in and out, driving you both closer and closer to a mind shattering orgasm.

“Don’t stop….” You begged, your nails digging into his back, surely leaving crescent shaped marks for later. “So close…please.”

“Not stoppin’, Baby.” He promised, slightly out of breath from the exertion, “You feel so fucking amazing… can’t get enough.”  He continued his brutal pace, slamming into you, his cock hitting your g spot with every thrust. He reached between your bodies to rub his thumb over your clit, “Give it to me, Honey, cum on my cock…let me feel it.”

The combination of him hitting so deep, his thumb relentless on your clit and his words, pushed you over the edge. You felt your walls clench down around his cock, trying to lock him inside of you, every muscle in your body tensing up as pleasure washed over your whole body.

“Mmm, shit, Bradley!” You gasped, the pleasure of the second orgasm overwhelming you, this one more intense than the first one, “Fuck… love you… so… much.”  

“Jesus you’re squeezing me so tight…” He moaned, close to his own orgasm. His rhythm becoming more erratic, “Love you so fucking much Sweetheart…. So close….. Fuck…. Cumming…”  he brought his mouth to yours, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss as ropes of his hot cum painted your inside walls, filling you impossibly full.

Once spent, he collapsed onto you, careful not to crush you. You wrapped your arms around him holding him tightly to you, enjoying the feeling of being connected as you both returned to Earth. After a few moments, he rolled over, taking you with him, so you were now lying on top of him, your head resting on his chest, content to listen to his heartbeat.

“We need to get cleaned up, Sweetheart.” Bradley said quietly after a few minutes, “I should probably get the leftovers out of the Bronco too.”

“I don’t wanna move.” You complained, snuggling in closer to him, causing him to chuckle.

“How about we grab a quick shower, I get the leftovers dealt with, then we cuddle in bed the rest of the night.” He suggested, holding you tighter, “And every night after that… because you and our baby girl are moving in!”

“We are…” You tip your head to look at him smiling brightly, “I can’t wait. I’ll get to go to bed with you and wake up with you every single night…except when you deploy…those nights will suck.”

“Those will be few and far between, Sweetheart.” He said, “We won’t worry about those just yet.”

“Ok.” You agreed, not wanting to focus on anything depressing. “How about tomorrow we talk to Gracie about moving in… maybe we can start looking at some bedroom furniture for her and make a plan on when we can make it official.”

“Sounds perfect.” He said, “Let’s take her to pick out her new bedroom decorations and we can start decorating her room. The sooner that’s ready to go, the sooner I get my girls home.”

“Someone’s impatient.” You teased, turning your head to kiss his chest. “But I get it. I’m ready too. I love you Bradley Bradshaw.”

“I love you too, Y/N Seresin.” He replied, tipping your face up to his and leaning down to gently kiss you, “You’re my whole world, Sweetheart.”

A/N: Sorry this one took so long to get out! Next chapter we return to court! It’s time to free GRACIE!  Let me know what you thought of this one! We had a lot of new developments in here <3 

Taglist:

@gracespicybradshaw​

@friendly-neighborhood-peter​

@oneelleandaneye​

@super-btstrash-posts​

@mygyn​

@emma8895eb​

@kitty-moonflower-blog

awesomebooklover17,

krismdavis,

Jayniebop,

Hisredheadedgoddess28,

jstarr86,

@cherrycola27​,

@harrysgothicbitch​ ,

@caidi-paris​

@senjoritanana​

@bethabear12,

@flyinlove

, fulla02 ,

@sophham​

@itsdesiree86​

@shanimallina87​

brooke-stinson

@kmc1989​

@djs8891​

@chaoticassidy​

@football1921

@sebastianstangirl01​

@hisredheadedgoddess28​

@callsignharper​

@thewackywriter​

@mazzbarnes​

@callsignartemis​

@CallSign-Vesta

@xoxabs88xox​

@avengersfan25​

[informalmajesty]

Jimin is not being sabotaged by his own label

This tag used to be (mostly) fun and now all I see are large text posts pitting Jimin and JK against each other and, look, it’s not as complicated as many of you are making it out to be, nor is there some grand conspiracy to *checks notes* pit JK and Jimin against each other or *keeps checking notes* a SPECIFIC vendetta against ONLY Jimin, their artist who *scrolls scrolls scrolls through notes* went number 1 on Billboard.

So here is a large text post on the woes of American capitalism (yes. Really).

Here’s the reality

Billboard DID Sabotage Jimin

Let’s get the big sabotage that did happen out of the way — BILLBOARD (and friends. Will circle back to this) ARE RACIST SNAKES AND ALWAYS HAVE BEEN.

Billboard has a history of keeping Black artists off of the pop charts. One example, R&B was largely created as a separate chart to move a category of Black artists from the Hot 100 pop charts. It was a big deal—as (1) example—when Boyz II Men crossed over to the pop charts multiple times.

And then what happened? The American music industry caught up and started cranking out white boy bands that wrote and performed R&B but. Funny. Somehow it was now considered JUST pop on the H100 POP charts. They weren’t pushed immediately to R&B and had to work their way over.

This was considered R&B for the R&B charts that was a “crossover”

And this was considered mainstream pop that needed no crossover.

Yeah, Billboard have always been racist snakes.

So flash forward to 2023. We know they tried HARD to keep BTS from the H100. Going into Proof, BB limited digitals, reduced the weight on sales and upped weight on radio. Why? American music labels can control radio. They cannot control sales and it’s legally far more messy for them to do so.

But then. JIMIN happened.

ARMY got Jimin to H100 #1 with the rule change and the American music industry lost their collective shit.

Why do I say COLLECTIVE and not just Billboard? Well.

This is so essential to the punch line of this rant.

American capitalism only cares about its friends.

What does that mean?

I work in Silicon Valley. You want to know why there is a major diversity problem in Silicon Valley? Yes. There is explicit and obscene misogyny and racism, but the biggest problem is less explicit albeit just as systemic.

White men tend to hang out and befriend other white men already in their “circle.” When some rich person or VC firm’s buddy is like “hey I need money for this thing” they are like “yes, of course, buddy, here you go!!” And they get tons of cash without having to prove anything.

I will not say the startup I worked at but it’s valuation was in the billions and their funding was in the billions with NO product built yet. How they got those billions? A well known stunt performer was besties with the then CEO of a major major tech company and he said “hey bestie give my friend over here hundreds of millions of dollars.” And then this startup got hundreds of millions of dollars. Was there due diligence done? Absolutely. But would the CEO of a major tech company give a crap if his best dude didn’t vouch for the startup? No.

Humans are extremely relationally driven. Merit is basically bullshit. Merit is so so rarely considered in anything. Who are you friends with? That’s how most things are done.

So, Billboard has a lot of friends. Those friends are in major record labels. And those friends only care about making as much money as possible while retaining the status quo.

What goes against all of that? A group of non-white, non-American men that they make very little money from because their label is completely seated in a different country.

So when Like Crazy—a solo record by a Korean artist under a Korean label with a Korean songwriting team—comes in and dethrones FLOWERS, Columbia Records’ darling for the year (no hate to Miley or the song, it’s solid, love Miley), oh my god were they SEEING SOME RED.

The MONEY they PAID to see Flowers on top of radio, of playlisting, of cultural consciousness and a NON AMERICAN NON WHITE MAN just dethroned that.

My GUESS (I don’t know, also keep in mind BTS didn’t seem to have the friendliest exit from the Columbia distribution deal) is that Billboard’s BFFs at Columbia threw a fit. And Billboard responded by saying “of course, bestie, we’ll remove the problem.”

And there goes 100k sales in the next week. Deleted. Gone.

Who is going to call them on that? Hybe could propose an investigation, sure, but here’s the thing — it’s not illegal. Billboard didn’t break any law. It’s THEIR completely made up chart that they can change at any time depending on what labels want (this is how Wall Street works too, btw). Everything is made up to appease the same 50 white men. Bleak but true. Music industry is far from the exception.

Okay so moving forward — now we have Jungkook’s Seven coming out. And Billboard a week before release finally decides to tell us the rule they CREATED BECAUSE OF JIMIN (it’s a shitty rule of course but damn Jimin’s power)—D2C sales no longer count.

Jungkoook makes it to #1 anyway because ARMY is freaking amazing AND yes. Yes, Jungkook got more US promotion, help on Spotify, general promo, radio etc than Jimin.

BUT THIS DID NOT HAPPEN BECAUSE BIG HIT FAVORS JUNGKOOK AND SABOTAGED JIMIN

Remember — everything is determined by rich men in power and who they are friends with.

What did Jungkook do? He went to an American producer who is besties with Scooter Braun (Andrew Watt has worked with several of Scooter’s artists including Justin Bieber, namely on Peaches) who has power to contact his besties at Spotify and wherever else.

And what does going to an American producer unlock for Jungkook? A pop track highly likely to do well in America. So then what does Bang PD do? Recognize that because the dude is a billionaire and he likes money and he says (and we know he said this) “this is going to be a hit.” And there you go, you have the Seven marketing campaign that Like Crazy didn’t quite get.

This isn’t “oh my god BigHit / Hybe hates Jimin.” This is “Jungkoook took an easier, more commercial route.”

If Jimin wants to go get a song like Seven….he can go get a song from an American producer who is friends with the right people.

Instead he wanted to work on a personal project with Korean producers and it’s amazing and beautiful and also went number one and was also a huge success.

And Jungkook wanted this really great and incredibly commercial pop song.

Both are valid. Both are going to unlock different resources for the artist. And both Jimin and JK know this. They chose what they chose. That’s it. End of story.

As for Seven v LC album stock— stock is highly likely determined by basic predictive analytics models (exponential smoothing, maaybe a regression, maybe even something as simple as moving avg idk). LC was a sizable increase from Astronaut and other BTS singles. So then Seven likely adjusted to that increase. Again. That’s it guys. That’s literally it.

So can we please have the tag back and stop pitting JK and Jimin against each other and respect that Jimin chose to do a more artistic, personal project while JK (at least for now) did not?

If you want to be mad at something, be mad at American wealthy white men and their friends.