#answer: they walked across the battlefield to get there

[cheshiresense]

Ok so I've actually gotten several asks about what Starrk's relationship with Unohana/the Fourth is/was like, but I don't have time atm to get into it, but I also want to toss out some of my headcanons about it because I've thought about it a lot, so I'll just list out a few headcanons in no particular order and get back to those asks later.

- First of all, Unohana is actually super protective of Starrk, but in a way that just confuses and/or scares people. Like she’s the sort to say dead serious no joke “my lieutenant is a gentle soul, you will answer to me if you upset him” while Starrk’s murdering his way across a battlefield and his reiatsu is eating a bunch of people for lunch 😂😂

- Unohana never thought she even had any protective instincts but Starrk just brings it out in her. At her age, with her experience, she can better sense just how old he actually is, just as she can sense-smell the amount of blood on him, so she knows he's lived a long time and killed a lot of people. But she can also tell he's not like her, he doesn't enjoy that sort of thing—when he kills, it's probably either because he has no choice or because he does it out of a sense of duty to whatever it is he believes in enough to fight for. Case in point, literally no one as powerful as she knows Starrk to be would choose to enter the Fourth with an honest interest in learning even more about healing than he already does. He's patient with even the weakest unseated Shinigami, and Unohana no longer has to personally come running every time the Eleventh decides to stop by to harass her officers because Starrk is there to stonewall them at the gates. But at the same time, the grief and loneliness she can sense in his reiatsu makes her want to shed blood because it never goes away. He can coax the shyest officers out of their shells with that no-pressure-calm he's constantly radiating, and for all that he'd prefer a nap over conversation any day of the week, he's also indulgent with members of his own squad when they ask him questions about a lecture or for a spar when he has time. He's reliable and steady and everything the Fourth needs him to be, with a reserved personality and a long-suffering air about him but careful hands and an even more careful mind in everything he does. And yet, hidden beneath all that, Unohana has never met anyone so constantly, miserably tired all the time. So yes, in her opinion, Starrk is a gentle, even fragile soul. She doesn't know - yet - what broke him so badly, but he's also hers now—she chose him, and he chose her, and she doesn't think she's imagining the way the Fourth feels stronger and stabler with his presence, with the easy way he shoulders the weight of a division right alongside her, with how their subordinates walk around with more confidence too in response to having two monsters watching over them now. For his competence as her second-in-command alone, she would've shielded him from anyone who upset him. But for the way he follows her around, genuinely eager to learn; for the way he sits with the younger officers and answers their questions and shows them new Kidou spells and treats them to snacks and protects them on missions; for the way he can stare down her Bankai without flinching and only grumble afterwards about how he deserves a week of sleep for such a hard spar but never even bat an eye when she reaches out to heal him with the very hands that had done their level best to rip him apart for several hours only minutes earlier; for the way he can give back just as good as he gets and allows her the chance to let herself off her own self-made leash every few weeks without having to hold back—for all of that and more, she would challenge anyone who dares try and force him to draw his blade against his will or break him any further than he already has been.

- I headcanon that for students who want to enter the Fourth, they have to take a separate written exam before they graduate. Results aren't great because there isn't actually much of a medical track at the Academy, plus it's generally considered uncool to end up at the Fourth, so there aren't many who would even take the exam, and of those who do, most can't even finish the entire thing, and minimum pass percentage is probably something like 50% lmao. At this point, it's less an exam and more an assessment of where the student is at so the Fourth's seated officers can sort the newcomers more easily when they have to start them on the basics. Then along comes Starrk who not only finishes the entire exam but also gets everything right, and it catches Unohana's attention enough to get her to make the trip to the Academy to speak to Starrk herself just to find out more, and the more she finds out, the more she thinks she'll finally be able to name a lieutenant with the kind of standards she's always wanted to be able to measure them by. At the end of the impromptu interview, she asks one more question—she asks him if he'd be willing to take one more test and become her official student. The lieutenant seat is his either way, but she's never had a personal student before. She won't be teaching him from scratch, which is a shame—someone with potential and a learning curve like Starrk's should've been scooped up long ago. But there's also more than just medical Kidou and surgical procedures she can pass on to him, and he may be a gentle soul, but he's a gentle soul with something he fiercely wants to protect, and that means there are other things she can teach him. He says yes, and that day, on the day they meet for the first time in any timeline, in a training room deep beneath the Academy, all seals activated for both privacy and containment, and even then they'd barely held—Unohana unseals her Bankai for the first time in centuries, and Starrk weathers every blow with the unyielding bedrock found beneath mountains and deserts and canyons and oceans, timeworn but timeless and enduring all the same. In the aftermath, both of them bleeding from multiple wounds with a good chunk of their reiatsu depleted, she thinks, yes, this one will be mine. He is strong enough to stand with me, tempered enough to be unafraid of me, old enough to have experienced the worst the world can offer, and wise enough to accept and bear it. And yet he remains... soft, at heart. Kind, in a way I do not fully understand, but it is precious nonetheless. It is something that should be protected. He is someone I can protect, so he will be mine.

- She'd prob also be like "let's get this signed and sealed before the old coot catches wind of another dual-wielding Shinigami and thinks he has first dibs just because he got the other two" 😂

- She would 1000% give Shunsui a shovel talk. It's probably the most terrifying shovel talk anyone has ever received in living memory ganbaa shunsui be brave you can do it.

- As for Starrk, he adores the fuck out of Unohana. But he’s also constantly baffled by how she kind of mothers him sometimes, in really off-putting ways (to others) but he doesn't realize that. Like the first time he goes out on a not-a-date with Shunsui, Unohana will be like "I wrote a dissertation called 101 Ways to Sterilize a Man, please read it over, I require urgent feedback" all while staring gloomy-eyed straight at a sweating Shunsui from behind Starrk's back because she'd watched this brat grow up, so she knows his skirt-chasing tendencies better than most, knows the way he likes beautiful people, likes flirting with them and charming them, likes the novelty of a new relationship and the thrill of the chase, and so she also knows the way it always ends with broken hearts but hardly ever his own. At most, he'll pout for a few days or a few weeks and mope and whine to Ukitake, and then he'll move on. He's always earnest and genuine in the moment, treats his lovers with all the respect and affection in the world when they're together, but he bores easily, and for all that he plays a good game of being open and friendly and approachable, Unohana has rarely met anyone more guarded when it comes to matters of the heart than Kyouraku Shunsui. He'd grown out of genuinely pursuing people in more recent decades, goes through the motions but no longer seems very interested in romance or even short dalliances, mostly only flirts these days with his long-time female acquaintances who all know better, but it would be easy for him to fall back into old habits. If he dares to be as careless with Starrk's heart as he'd been with previous lovers, Unohana won't stop until the Eighth Division will require a new captain.

- Starrk totally calls Unohana Shishou-san eventually. He has a thing for nicknames. Shunsui is of course Taichou-san. Shiina is Sensei-san. Unohana is Shishou-san. One person per category. It's an odd quirk of his.

[the--highlanders]

I would just like to thank james drummond for dying so conveniently he solves so many problems <3

[vxsellie]

THE UNITY IN PAIN - E.W

synopsis. soldier!ellie williams x field medic!reader. after being horribly wounded in battle, ellie is brought to you on a stretcher. she'd been blown up by a fucking landmine when her guard was down. however, for some reason, the agony in her mutilated leg instantly subsides as her gaze falls onto you. everything dulls in comparison to your vibrance. notes. this is so random & probably won't even get that much attention bc of how sporadic the trope is, but! this thought came to me and i've been unable to rid my mind of it since i first imagined it also! yes, i changed the synopsis a bit from how it was originally posted when i asked about tagging. i just rewatched g.i. jane & was hungry for writing a war scene rather than just pure romance yk warnings. descriptions of gore, war, corpses, death, and blood. unrealistic medical depictions. wc. 3.6k

the sound of gunfire and screams fill ellie's ears as she runs across the battlefield. her thick combat boots kick up sand with each step she takes, gun clutched firmly against her chest just as she'd been taught. her comrades run alongside her, only a few hundred feet away from the helicopter waiting to take them back to safety a few miles out. her mouth nearly waters at the idea of a hot meal and cold shower. the dirt that clings to her skin is—

boom!

ellie's body suddenly goes flying up into the air, thudding against the ground a few feet away. she groans, ears ringing as she struggles to get onto her knees. as she attempts to move, a jolt of pain shoots up her left leg and agony grips her with an iron fist.

she squeezes her jaw shut. screaming past clenched teeth as she continues to move around, albeit fruitlessly. her body is on fire, every single nerve set aflame as her entire being protests the very notion of so much as breathing.

"williams is down!" she can hear someone shout through her earpiece, relaying the news back to those in the helicopter. she'd usually feel embarrassed at the declaration. but at the moment, she can hardly think straight enough to feel anything. "she must've triggered a landmine! her leg is— just— send a medic! over!"

a few more voices shout in her earpiece as thudding boots can be heard jogging toward her. she screams, continuing her futile attempts at reforming dignity. but all she manages to do is writhe around in pain.

hands are suddenly grabbing at her, comrades holding her under the arms and by the thighs as they haul her onto a stretcher. every movement sends her body into another wave of torment, leg numb as every muscle and nerve screams at her. as the soldiers jog with the stretcher in tow, she continues to groan and writhe, mind muddled by whatever injury she endured and blood loss.

a sudden flash of white can be seen moving in the corner of her eye. she lulls her head in the direction of the color, seeing a field medic rushing over to the stretcher. you walk in stride with the soldiers carrying her, speaking frantically as you assess the situation and how best to approach it.

and, instantly, all the pain in ellie's body vanishes. her mind focuses solely on you and the cloud of gentility you've placed over her without so much as a glance in her direction. her lips part as she pants, eye lidded as she stares up at you with blown pupils. whoever you are, she wishes to see more of you from now on.

you continue to bark orders at the soldiers and demand answers to questions. the sheer power you hold over these militia men is daunting and she loves it.

the thudding footstep sound suddenly shifts, boots no longer against hardened sand and now on thick metal. she looks away from you to blink at her surroundings. the interior of the helicopter spins as she glances around, nothing solid except for your face. so she turns back to you.

this time, however, you're looking right back at her. you're a mere inch from her face as you squint at her, taking in every detail of her. the soldiers ease the stretcher onto the floor as you take over the situation and the copter whirs into power and lifts into the air.

"what's your name, soldier?" you ask, crouching to one knee as you reach into your back pocket, still watching her closely.

"my—" she blinks, taken aback.

"you don't know your name?" you ask her before shaking your head and muttering under your breath, "oh, that's a bad bad sign."

"what? no. nonono, i know my name." she rushes out, words slurred as delirium is beginning to effect every action she takes. "it's— i'm ellie williams."

you raise a brow at her switch-up but say nothing. instead, you nod and pull out a rolled cloth. you shift lower on her body, now crouched at her hips rather than her face. she watches you with bright eyes despite the dullness of the rest of her.

"well, ellie williams." you say, unraveling the cloth to reveal a line of tools and blades to have been hidden within. you grab one of the scalpels. at least ellie thinks it's a scalpel. she's not the smartest at medical shit. you clutch the blade and turn to her. "this mangled leg of yours isn't making it back to base."

"it—" she stammers, voice scratchy and rough in her raw throat. "what's that mean?"

you give her a pitying look, "amputation."

"what're—"

her words are cut off by you driving a second blade into her uninjured leg. she screams out in pain, mind instantly made distracted by the knife in her right leg to pay any mind to the way you're severing off her already wounded one. seeing as it's already numb and almost completely removed at the knee, it makes it easy for you to remove. the issue, though, is your lack of access to sedatives at the moment. and if the blood loss didn't kill ellie, the pain surely would. so, the knife you'd just driven into her right thigh was for her sanity.

she throws her head back, screams tearing from her throat and bouncing off the metallic walls of the helicopter. you grit your teeth and continue, knowing you've ought to make this as quick as humanly possible to ensure ellie will be alive by the time you make it to base.

once you get to her bone and swap tools for a stronger ones, her deafening screams only grow in volume. while the rest of the crew covers their ears and winces at the sound of their comrade in such anguish, you know her screams are a good thing. they're a tell tale sign that she's alive and still feeling pain regularly.

her hands are clutching the edge of her stretcher, knuckles white with pressure applied to her grip. you finish the removal and replace the sharp tools with a roll of gauze. "shh. i know, i know. but look, we're almost done, just have to wrap it now." you mutter under your breath as you work. talking while working keeps you in order and ellie seems to appreciate it as well, her voice dying in her throat as she nods in a daze.

she pins her eyes to your face, watching you once again as you work. you can feel her gaze boring into your face as you tie off her leg at the knee, securing blood flow and bandaging the exposed flesh. afterward, you yank the knife from ellie's right thigh, sending her body to jolt as she yelps. you're quick to tend to her, though, wrapping her thigh alongside her left (half) leg.

you finish the job and almost collapse from your adrenaline rush crashing so fast. ellie's chest rises and falls as she huffs out heavy breaths of air, her eyes blinking slowly as her jaw hangs open. her auburn hair clings to her sweaty skin, the perfect depiction of what war and fatigue can do to a person. only a few minutes ago, she was unwounded and the entire crew was on their way back to base unscathed. in mere seconds, that was obliterated alongside ellie's leg. one misstep and she's lost a limb for the rest of her life.

but this is exactly why you're here; this is your purpose here. helping people the way nobody was able to help your father.

you know what it's like to lose a loved one. to wait at the front door as a child only for big militia men to appear in his stead with a triangularly folded flag to offer their condolences and apologies. the piece of fabric felt a pathetic replacement for your father — the one who taught you to talk, walk, eat, everything. but you still cherished it, promising your little adolescent self that you'd make sure no other family would go through this. not if you could help it, at least.

and now, thanks to you, whoever ellie's family is will be seeing her return. albeit a little less of her, but it'll be her nonetheless.

"what's your name?" she slurs from her spot on the stretcher, pulling your attention away from your thoughts and back down to her mangled form. her hands lay palm up as they release from their death grip on the edge of the stretcher.

"i don't think you should be the one asking the questions here, miss williams." you tell her with a glint of playfulness in your eye. ellie huffs out a laugh but ends up coughing, having to turn her head to the side in case of vomit. you look away, instead using this time to place your tools back into their sheath, mentally scolding yourself to remember to wash them off later.

"ask away," ellie roughs out, her voice still chalky and in desperate need of water.

"age? birthplace? mother's maiden name? any siblings? pets?" you list of questions as you slip the blades back into the fabric. these questions are the one regularly used when checking to be sure a patient's memory hasn't been impaired and their brains are screwed on correctly. if ellie can answer every single one without fail, she's perfect.

"woah woah," she says, "slow down."

"okay fine." you give in, rolling your fabric and slipping it into your medic coat pocket. you turn to her, shuffling close to her face as to be respectful. "what'd you eat for breakfast this morning?"

"mm, that's too easy." she smirks, though you can tell the action hurts her. her lips are split, causing the slightest quirk of her mouth to cause pain. despite this, she continues, likely unaware that you'd even noticed. "scrambled eggs, they were stale. master chief said they're all we had though, so i was smart enough t' not complain."

"smart girl." you chuckle. the blush that creeps to ellie's cheeks doesn't go unnoticed. but you say nothing, offhandedly deeming it to be all due to her wound-induced delirium.

"what'd you have?" she asks. "do medics get special treatment or what?"

you scoff, "oh i wish. unfortunately, i had the same shit as you, williams. master chief's stale eggs."

she laughs at this and you find yourself adoring the sound. the rest of the crew is talking and laughing with each other, a low hum of conversation filling the air. louder than that, the noisily whirring helicopter begins to lower to the ground, deafening in its boisterousness. despite all of that, ellie's laughter is what rings loudest in your ears. you ignore the full-body reaction and instead busy yourself with something else.

you stand from the floor, nodding toward the men seated opposite the helicopter from you and ellie. they notice your movement and instantly stand and jog over to you. there's five of them.

"when this thing lands, i want you five to haul her out of here." you demand, chin raised and shoulders set. the men nod, accepting their newly appointed roles. you're not done, though. "afterward, you'll bring her into the medical tent and lay her down on whichever cot i point out to you."

the men listen, not daring to argue with you. as someone who's worked for the military for three years now, you've managed to amass a rather impressive reputation for a medic. the higher ranked officers know you by name from your father and therefore respect your deeply. but it's not only your lineage that's got you to where you are. on top of your father's residual impact on your life, you're also the best medic this army has ever seen. they need you. due to this, the officers have driven it into the soldiers' minds that you're to be respected and listened to for fear that you'll leave if not. that's not true, of course, but you allow them to think it.

and when the time comes, the men hold their end of the deal. as soon as the helicopter lands against the grassy land of your militia base, the haul ellie's stretcher into the air and escort her off the machine and into the medical tent. you follow after them, hurrying in front of them when you get to the tent as to be there in order to point out which cot she's to be placed upon.

the tent is lined with wounded soldiers. most of them aren't freshly injured, instead in here to heal and recover from previously inflicted damage. some of them are mental while others are physical, calling for a colorful array of people packed into the tent.

"there," you say, gesturing toward the first empty cot you see. "lay her down gently, y' hear me?"

"yes ma'am." the reply in unison, placing her down onto the white sheets as softly as possible. then, they stand at ready for dismissal. when you're sure they hadn't somehow managed to injure ellie, you dismiss them and they're quick to rush out the tent and rejoin their crew.

ellie lies atop the cot, her severed leg looking shockingly well, all things considered. her breathing has evened out and her hands no longer yearn to grip the nearest thing to her. progress, you'd say.

"when dinner is served, i'll be sure to bring you a tray." you tell her, pulling your cloth from your coat and unraveling it over a nearby cart of medical supply. ellie's eyes are on you again. in the way that sends sparks through your nerves and hammering through your heart. you hate it. but you also think you'll live the rest of your life chasing this very feeling that ellie gives you. whatever that may be.

"y' don't have to." she mumbles, voice quiet and graveling with exhaustion. her eyelids are weighed with her being tired. you frown, wiping your tools clean as you look at her from over the cart.

"yes i do." you insist. "it's the least you deserve."

her brow knits at this, threaded with confusion. "wha'd'you mean?"

"you're a war soldier, williams." you tell her, finishing your tool tending and crossing your arms over your chest. "you and your crew put your life in danger every fucking day. the least i could do is get you a tray of damn food."

"y' say that like y' don't spend your life tendin' t' us." she slurs. "y' don't owe me anythin'."

"i watch you guys, y'know." you tell her. "when the medical work runs low and i run out of shit to do, i sit outside and watch the soldiers train. and let me tell you, just watching what you're put through is enough to never make me want to go anywhere near your job. you're forced to work through harsh weather and grave situations."

her eyes are pinned to you as you speak. and, for some reason, her gaze has a certain weight to it that makes you want to simultaneously cower from her and run at her. it's driving you mad. but you can't look away, your eyes staying trained on hers as you continue.

"all the while, i sit in some tent and stitch people up all day." you say. "so let me at least bring you some fucking dinner. and don't you dare tell me no, williams, because i won't listen."

she blinks, "now i see why y' scare the shit outta everyone."

"are you saying that you're scared of me?" you narrow your eyes at her, rounding the cart to approach her cot with a raised brow.

"i'd be a damn fool not t' be." she chuckles, shocking you both as she manages to not cough this time. "dunno how y' did it, but everyone know better than t' fuck with you."

"perfect." you grin at this. though, when you see the look on ellie's face, you shoot her a deep scowl. "don't you go ruining my reputation now, williams. when you leave this place, you better tell everyone i was a complete bitch to you."

"yes ma'am." she agrees with a wide smile. your heart nearly melts at the sight of it.

ellie looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, her eyes darting between each of yours as she continues to smile ever so slightly. in her gaze, you're literally perfect. a painting made by someone who'd experienced nothing but beauty and love in their life. and her delirium only adds onto this, making you out to be even more alluring and angelic than before.

i mean, who could blame her? she'd been dying in the sand, writhing and screaming. and suddenly, the most beautiful woman she'd ever laid her eyes on is walking onto the scene and taking the world by storm, voice strong and gaze even stronger. she was incapable of looking away the entire time you tended to her.

"oh!" you suddenly burst out, mind reminding her of something. you turn away from her to grab something and she instantly wants to force you to turn back toward her. you turn back around a moment later, orange bottle of pills in your hand. "want any painkillers?"

her eyes instantly light up, "please."

"don't sound so desperate now, williams." you tease, unscrewing the lid and pouring two of them into the palm of your hand. you pass them to her and she downs them instantly, no water needed. you smile, "not only will they lessen the pain, but they'll help you to fall asleep too. i know personally how hard it is to rest knowing that half your leg is missing, so.."

her gaze trail down your body, taking in your complete limbs. though, she ought to admit she allowed her eyes to wander a bit, taking in the curves and dips of your body as she imagines what it'd be like to memorize each feature with her mouth.

she looks back up at your face as though she weren't just imagining the most filthy things about you. "doesn't seem like you'd know personally. y' have all your legs."

"well, not personally, i suppose." you agree, waving a dismissive hand at her comment. "my father was missing an arm, a few fingers, and most of his ear. so i know more closely than most, but you're right it's not exactly personal."

"your father was in the military, right?" she questions, eyes drooping as the pills begin to kick in. "super high rank. i've heard his name 'round."

"yep," you nod pridefully.

"that's—" she blinks harshly, sleep wrapping its hands around her as it beckons her to give in to its taunting. "that's so awesome."

"do you even remember what we were talking about?" you laugh.

she sighs heavily, thinking hard. "uhh,"

"it's fine," you assure her, watching her with a fond smile. "go to sleep, now. you've deserved it."

"mm," she hums, seeming to be incapable of processing your words. she then reaches a hand toward you, fingertips brushing the coat of your white jacket stained with her blood. "wanna do me a favor?"

you raise a brow, "what type of favor?"

"t' help m' sleep." she murmurs. you take a step closer, barely able to hear her. a small smile tugs her lips at your proximity. "kiss me."

your eyes widen, "i can't—"

"pleaseee." she begs, voice rough with sleep.

"i'd feel guilty the rest of my life, williams." you struggle to explain. "you're in pain and on a heavy drug. plus, we've just met and i've never seen you without some sort of delirium effecting you. i can't kiss you or i'll feel like i took advantage of you."

"but 'm asking." she continues to plead with you, pale green eyes looking up at you through droopy eyes and filthy hair.

she looks so fucking perfect like this, her features rested and vulnerable. something about the sight of her feels intimate. you'd seen her before, of course. she's ellie williams. she's an absolute monster on the field. she's not super high ranking seeing as she's only been in for a year and a half, but she's well respected and liked among the men.

before this, you'd only ever seen her wrestling with big buff men and scaling walls in her uniform. but right now, she's anything but the woman you'd previously deemed her to be. and, oddly, you think you might like this better. like you're seeing as side of her that nobody else is allowed to see. like a secret.

"how about this," you say.

you then lean forward and press your lips to her forehead. she shuts her eyes, relaxing against the feel of the kiss. she hums lowly, shoulders drooping into the pillow. you pull back and her eyes remain closed. as though she's trying desperately to draw the moment out for as long as possible.

"that way," you tell her, "you get your kiss and i don't feel guilty about it."

"smart girl," she hums, mimicking the very words you'd said to her earlier. you smile, though she doesn't see her as her eyes remain closed. when she opens them, they're bloodshot from pure fatigue. "when 'm all better, will y' kiss me? like, a forreal kiss?"

you laugh, shaking your head fondly, "sure, ellie. why not?"

the sound of her name on your tongue and the promise of a possible future kiss is enough for her. she shuts her eyes and burrows deep into the pillow. the pain in her amputated leg remains long forgotten as her mind is far more interested in the memory of your smile and the sound of your voice, dreams full of naught but you all night long.

a kiss from an angel.

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 perm. taglist : @luvsturniolo @ilovewomenfr @zzombiegirl @elliessweetheart

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 fic taglist : @dinakisser @uselessnewt @mellifluousgirll @divinely-yourz @ladyofcain

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

Bestfriends?

Dark!Gojo x Reader

18+ MDNI, dark, animal cruelty, non-con, violence, Gojo is horrible (I mean it), baby-trapping. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You should've known better than anyone that Satoru was never the merciful type.

His cheerful personality wasn't a facade but having known him for years made you aware of all the little tics that made him so terrifyingly him. Particularly that one little tic of his that always manages to send chills down your spine and ice the edges of your heart from fear despite him being your bestfriend.

The kind of fear that makes you wanna curl up into a ball and shrivel up just from the thought of being in the receiving end.

It's the little tic of his that makes him act like a cat which terrifies you even after all these years. It's not the way he acts so annoyingly asshole-ish like some cats or the way he acts so clingy like your beloved cat, Saibo, that scares you. No, it's the way he acts like a cat in it's most primal form that scares you. An instinct so abominable that it makes you cringe from disgust at just the thought of Saibo imitating it.

It's the very tiny tic of his that makes him toy around with his enemies like a cat that toys around with it's prey. Not for a just cause like survival but for the mere fact of entertainment to ease it's boredom; maybe you should've just killed yourself before it reached to the extent of making yourself Satoru's next target, his next prey and his pretty, little wife.

"Satoru, I told you twice already. My answer is a no, I don't want to marry you" you sigh, folding your arms across your chest as you look up at the man looming in your apartment doorway with an expression so blank that it reminded you of a statue.

A statue hand-crafted by the heavens itself and wearing the skin of your bestfriend.

His silence is a curse and for some eerie reason, you could hear the ticking of a clock somewhere behind you. Like a countdown of a bomb.

"Why?"

Flabbergasted doesn't even start to describe what you feel at his question because you've been telling him exactly why for the past two days since he stepped into your office and offered his proposal. And yet here he is, repeating the same question like a stuck recorder. There's nothing else you can say, you've already used up all of your excuses ranging from being an orphan to his clan elders future disapproval.

So when Saibo comes and rubs itself against your leg? There's only one utterly stupid sentence that presents itself-

"I promised my mum that I wouldn't marry anyone until I lose Saibo." Great, just great. You're a damn genius, obviously intelligent enough to dig a deep enough hole and bury yourself alive because why on Earth would you bring your sweet mum up right now. Leave the dead to rest in peace is what you should've don-

The smile tugging on his lips and the light tone of his voice after the uncomfortable silence cuts your monologue off. "That's all? I just have to wait for you to lose Saibo for you to marry me?"

"Watch your words, Gojo. You've gone too far" You snap, narrowing your eyes up at him.

If looks could kill, Satoru would've been buried a good 60 ft deep in because you obviously weren't gonna be satisfied with 6ft. Not after what he said; sure you did imply it but that still doesn't make it any better.

"This is going too far but rejecting me three times isn't?" Satoru scoffs, walking in so confidently that it made you stumble back and made your beloved cat hiss at him, bless her heart. His back faces you and suddenly it's cold, chills runs up your spine after your initial surprise fades and the click of the door lock seemingly drowns itself in the rapid thump of your now slowly thundering heart. You're getting deja vu, you're sure of it, it's the same sensation you always get when he gets on the battlefield.

When he turns back around, you notice that his blindfold was off but the look on his face is what makes you freeze. His gaze was anything but friendly and his eyes were a color so menacingly blue that it cuts through your skin and attaches itself in that tiny part deep inside you that always made you wary of him. For good reason.

Saibo jumps in front of you and promptly growls, a sound that you never heard her make, shaking you awake from your frozen daze and forcing you to watch the person you called your bestfriend quickly close the small distance.

"All I wanted was your acceptance" he says, ignoring the hissing cat in front of him "Is that really too much to ask for from you, pretty?"

"I can give you everything, Satoru. Everything except for that" you breathe out shakily, goosebumps rising in your arms when he caresses your cheeks. A touch so cold that you're not sure if it's because of his infinity or the frozen mechanism beating in his chest that he calls a heart.

"Then give me everything" Satoru's hand on your cheeks slides down to your neck, wrapping around it to pull you close "I'll give you everything you want in return, I'll give you anything in the world"

His hold gradually tightens on your throat, almost like a threat. No, it was a threat.

"Do you even know what you're asking for?" You spit out, nails digging into his wrist but that damn infinity of his kept you out and him safe almost like he was the victim in this situation.

"You clearly know that I do darling, and it's a damn shame really" He leans in, his eyes filled with so much adoration it makes you wanna gouge it out "Since I always thought you were a smart girl but maybe it's time to treat you like you're dumber than you are"

His last words are a whisper in your ears and in a split second his infinity is down and his lips roughly crash against yours, one hand squeezing at your throat and the other forcing your mouth open to shove his tongue inside while your hands tears into his skin and pushes at his chest, his face, his shoulders but all it earns you is a loud moan from him that shrivels something up inside you when you realise he likes it.

He likes your desperate attempts to free yourself from his disgusting hold. Likes the way you struggle against his grasp. Likes the way you whine and whimper protests against his lips, trying desperately to bite down on his tongue and finger but pathetically failing to do so-

What he doesn't like is the way Saibo also manages to dig her claws into his skin, much like you, albeit shallow due to the thick material of his pants but doing enough damage to attract his attention. You've had Saibo for 15 years and never was she so violent, tears springs in your eyes at the thought of it but before a single tear even manages to glide down your reddened cheeks, there's a push and you're down flat on the couch behind you and Satoru is holding a hissing Saibo by her fluffy white cuff.

"Shame, I actually liked you since you looked like me y'know?" Satoru hums, holding her at a safe distance with a small frown "Made me think that you'd remind her of me"

"Satoru, let her down" you manage out shakily, sitting up and holding a trembling hand out for Saibo. Hoping that Satoru wouldn't do what you think he's gonna do, he's your bestfriend afterall...isn't he? He should know better than that-

"I was trying so hard to be nice to you darling. I even went out of my way to ask you three times but you- hah- Honestly, you brought this to yourself" he clicks his tongue with a shake of his head, an almost feline grin plastered on his face as he steps back.

You've known Satoru for years now and sure he was a little volatile, somewhat impulsive and downright crazy when it came to the things he wanted but at least he was constant.

Constant enough for you to know that he was batshit insane.

"Satoru, please" you plead but her back is facing you and his hands is around her neck and there's nothing you can do but rush towards him a second too late. There's a sickening crack and a loud howl and Saibo's back is turned towards you but her cerulean eyes burns through your skin and heart and mind and soul an- the ticking of the clock finally stops. "Well she's gone now. Looks like you're finally able to marry me" his voice is light, almost cheerful while you're frozen in place. Tears blur your vision but both their cerulean eyes burns stark in your mind, Satoru and Saibo.

You've lost two bestfriends in one day. Lucky you.

There's a strangled cry emanating from somewhere, one so despaired that it claws at your heart and makes you wanna cover your ears and just cry yourself to death.

"I didn't want to do this either, darling" there's a quiet shushing and a warm hand places itself against your mouth, blue eyes gazing back at you like he hurts more than you do.

You shut your mouth and the sound is gone but the scratches in your heart still stings when you're pushed flat on your back. Still hurts when you limply tilt your head to the side to look at the lump of white on the coffee table and ignore the dull feeling of someone groping you because your pretty cat laid there, it's dead blues staring at you.

Saibo, your pretty little cat. Your mother had adopted a cat when you were young, a cat just as soft-spoken and warm as her. A pretty little ragdoll with soft, white fur and cerulean eyes that always licked at you like its own kitten when your own mother held you in her arms and cooed sweet nothings to you.

There's a numb hold on your cheeks and a hollow sound of squelching when you feel someone pry your mouth open and force something wet inside. Your blurry gaze flickers down to see your shirt missing and ugly red spots splotched across your chest, flickering your gaze upwards only to find blue eyes staring back at you.

Blue eyes like your mother's cat, one that never left your mother's bed after her death. She had a litter of five when your mother was alive, she had only one left after your mother's passing. The very one that she gently laid down on your open hands, licking your cheeks one last time before curling up in her usual spot and quietly passing away on your mother's bed a month lat-

"Don't go gazing off into the distance on me now, pretty girl" Someone coos in your ear, the blurriness of your vision slowly melting away when a warm hand wipes the silent tears streaming from your eyes. And then you see the familiar face of a man that looked nothing like your bestfriend, nothing like the Satoru you thought you knew.

You blink. Once. Twice. Trying to make sense of his echoing words through the haziness of your mind that wraps around you like a blank cocoon and numbs the intrusive feeling of his touch in between your legs. Time is a privilege and you don't know how long he's been at it but the dull heat resting low in your stomach and the disgusting feeling of his fingers moving inside you was as unwelcome as it was unwanted.

Not like he would've cared if you voiced it out.

Satoru always did have the ability to unceremoniously wrench the space people considered safe from underneath them; you've watched him give his enemies a false sense of security enough time to immediately recognise that familiar smile making its ways on his lips. The smile that made you realise that your fate was sealed, only proven true by the burning stretch that rips at the haze in your mind and steals the welcomed numbness to replace itself with burns that sears into your skin and brands itself deep inside.

"Satoru st-stop" you breathe out, brows furrowing from the sharp stings as you dig your nails into his skin and create little moon shaped dents into the milky expanse of his chest. "C-can't, won't" he groans out, pushing his cock well past the resistance of your clenching walls with gritted teeth "Also relax darling- hngh- you're just making it worse -shit, stop that" His hand besides your head moves to your hair, hold so tight that it pulls at your scalps and makes you grunt out in pain.

"Wait. Look I'm al-already halfway in" Satoru groans out delightedly, forcing your head up to make you look at the way he was buried inside you. Pulling out just a little to show his thick cock covered in your slick and blood because of course you'd bleed when an inhuman size forces itself inside your tight hole even after all the prep.

And then he's pushing back in mercilessly and there's a choked, painful moan forcing itself up your throat "St-stop -ah-it hurts!"

"I'm sorry darling. I know it hurts but it won't for long" he shushes at you quietly, pressing featherlight kisses on your forehead "It'll just hurt this one time, I promise." Your body is screaming so hard from the pain and betrayal that your voice seemingly loses itself in it, quiet gurgles being the only thing rising from your bleeding throat when he suddenly bucks his hips and bottoms out in you.

And then you're gone.

Nothing in this world could ever make you forget the sound of his heaving moan and guttural praises; praising you for taking him so well, acting like he didn't just force himself past your resistance and inside you.

Your tears and sobs don't deter him, it only turns him on, only encourages him to whisper sweet nothings in your ears, the sound of it makes you wanna rip your defiled ears off, and lick at the fat blobs of tears sliding down your cheeks. His small show of mercy is allowing you to adjust to his size; it only makes you feel worse, just the thought of him inside you for a second longer makes you wan-

An impatient thrust is all it takes for you to go numb again, body going limp when he runs out of patience and grabs hold of your hips to slam you down on him. Over and over and over again until you're nothing but a pile of meat and bones, and he's nothing but a groaning mess of everything you hate. Until your howls turns into muted little ah's and his held back moans morphes into a version of your name that he so religiously, and loudly, mewls in your ear with every buck of his hips against yours.

His voice is as muted as the sound of wet skin slapping against each other, your head limply tilted to the side with your gaze blankly fixated against the brown material of your couch when your body shuts itself down. But like all respite, Satoru steals it away again with a click of his tongue and a hand squishing your cheeks together into a small pout to force your head to the other side. Forcing you to look at the disproportioned lump of white on the table that you once called family.

Satoru could just say that he personally killed your mother at this point.

"Don't w- ngh-worry. Always knew you wanted a family" he rasps out, biting and sucking at every inch of skin he could get his lips on "Now I'll give you one, a real one. One that doesn't include a damn cat"

"S'toru" you whisper out, barely finding your voice in the mess and like always, it's ignored for his own rambling. "Gonna fill this right up for little mini-me" there's a sharp sting on your chest, you force your gaze down and look over his hand to watch him suckle at your nipples like a newborn babe searching for milk. An idea he's soon gonna turn into reality. You rasp his name out louder, ignored again when he finally lets go of your cheeks to slide it down to your womb and press down, hard "I-I swear I'll make- ngh-you into a mama if it's the last thing I do"

There's only so much feeling that your body can numb, only so much it can do against Satoru and his dick. Your orgasm was anything but pleasant if not painful, feeling his every inch, vein and curve mold itself inside you and rip you apart with shocks so violent that you jerk and writhe and clench your gooey walls down on him- you know it's finally over when he babbles in your ears and spurts something hot and repulsive inside you, his brutal pace finally stuttering to a stop and turning into a grind, perfectly plugging his obscenity inside you.

"Satoru" your voice is foreign to your own ears, his heat goes unregistered and the white cold lump is promptly forgotten because of that one thought buzzing in your head. "Yes darling?" His voice is as foreign as yours to you, his gaze undecipherable when he pulls away to look at you, leaning down to kiss you on the li- "I hate you"

He pauses, lips brushing against yours just barely. There's that signature smile of his and the regrettably familiar feeling of his lips pressing against yours. His reply seemingly drowning itself in the constant buzzing of your ears, only one thought ringing through your mind over and over again.

You should've killed yourself the very moment he proposed to you.

Masterlist ° NSFWlist Had to post this snippet cuz 2 months is a long time to be dead for. I got the heebie jeebies writing this but I was too far into it so I had to finish it😦

[radio-fmm]

Sun kissed

Monkey D. Luffy x reader

Fluff fluff and just more fluff, confession, gender neutral reader no use of pronouns or gendered descriptions

1.5k words

You had never met someone like Luffy

He was once in a lifetime kind of guy, but familiar all the same; like the sun going down painting the skies with beautiful hues to then disappear as the moon anchors up above, the scenery a natural beauty that would repeat itself the next day but breathtaking nonetheless

Relentless and brave beyond belief, the only thing keeping him going when his body gives up being his unmeasurable conviction, a selfish captain that always gets what he wants, he hates being called a hero yet he possesses the biggest kind heart of gold you had ever seen

It wasn’t a surprise when you realized your admiration for your Captain went beyond just that, after all, he had freed you; offering you a place in his crew, an unbreakable friendship that you cherished and a promise to both achieve your dreams together

The roles of captain and crew member being almost nonexistent nor necessary; every single strawhat had sworn loyalty to Luffy just because he had been the purest of friends, not needing an explanation for their past or behavior before extending his support and kindness. He saw something in all of you and that was enough, his role only held by this unspoken respect and trust

However, the base of the strawhats crew was the already so mentioned friendship, there was this dynamic you had to follow even if it pained you to do so

Because you didn’t wanted to get in his way

Luffy was so busy working to be the king of the pirates, you knew the moment he got to see you walking before him with your heart in your hands he would decline the offering, even if the lines between your relationship were already so blurry

Even as you beat yourself up to ‘stay in the lane’ there was this natural flow that would bring Luffy to your shore, as it would also bring you to his

It’s always you and him

You the first to jump to defend his name even if held by gunpoint, screaming at the top for your lungs that he would be the next king of the pirates making his heart swell. You the first he looks for in the battlefield, he believes in your strength but his mind can only think about your safety and wellbeing. You the first to join in his laughter, joy spreading all across your being as you both giggle with big bright smiles that seem to grow bigger at each other’s sight. You the only one he doesn’t steal food from when you’re sitting at dinner

you and him

Regardless of how close and how happy you were, souls destined to intertwine, Luffy would be a liar if he said he didn’t notice the sadness and uncertainty that started to gloss over your face whenever your gaze looked for his. A lot of things he is, perceptive a quality a lot of people seemed to brush off

“Why are you doing that face?”

You sat side by side on his seat on top of The Sunny, the celebration for yet another victory unfolding behind you becoming a little unbearable since your eyes could not be peeled off your Captain, your heart heavy with unspoken feelings hanging form your tongue

You crook a small smile- “What face?” Your question answering his questions makes the pirate frown and huff in annoyance, his arms crossing in front of his scarred chest

“You have been doing that face every time I look at you”- even though he’s making an statement it sounds more like a reproach “Are you upset with me?”

Your heart falls to the sea that rocks the ship at a slow tranquil pace, your breath picking up speed as your try to make up for the emptiness in your chest- “N-No Luffy I could never get mad at you!”

He remains quiet, a frown still hanging form his lips as his eyes do a one over your nervous form, as if looking for an answer in your body language, but it ever appears- “Something is not right, you’re not… you”

Your face drops and your eyebrows knit in pain, making it now impossible to miss the thoughts that plague you as they reflect on your face, a quality of yours Luffy quite enjoyed- “I love you, please come back to you”

The first three words hit you like a Marine’s ship, eyes widening in shock mouth going dry as they replay for a couple more times before you come back to earth. A pang now replacing the emptiness you once felt as a remainder that you were in fact a real person, a human being with emotions and desires that could not be ignored for much longer

“I- you love me?” You sound absolutely incredulous

“Well of course I do! You’re one of my best friends” Luffy answered beaming with a 3000 kilowatt smile that has you burning at the sight of it

You feel dizzy, your mind reeling making everything around you spin, your breath that once struggled to be kept in now leaving your mouth in an exasperated sigh that makes your Captain confused

“What? Is that.. wrong?”

“No it’s not , it’s just that-” your words get stuck in your throat, you massage your head and temples as you meditate the answer you’re about to give, a fear creeping up that grows exponentially when you meet his eyes again

“I love you too, but not as a friend” it even surprises you how delicate and patiently every word left you, your heart coming back to life by beating faster and faster as every second passed

Luffy stays quiet again, which only feeds on your worry since he’s not someone that find themselves at a loss of words

“Oh… so like…” he struggles to pint point exactly what is it you’re trying to tell him, the thought of a romantic interest never crossing his mind before, the label lost in the wind of his wild determined motions that had led you to him. He knows this tingling sensation he gets whenever you’re alone isn’t something friends are supposed to feel, because it only happens with you. And it grows even stronger when you smile, and when your hands touch? He feels like he might combust; he knows you’re special to him, but it never occurred to him what that might actually intel

This ‘love’ Sanji always babbles about when he’s sitting waiting for his meal and tries to strike a conversation, though the cook seemed to had painted it as something more complicated, what Luffy felt for you was not complicated at all, he loved you and that was it, clear as water. This being the reason he had never approached you about it, he wasn’t sure how to go about this new feeling that was taking over him every time he saw you, an urgency to always be with you, his body begging to crash into yours

“Love” he completes his sentence though it feels like he’s assuring himself that what he just heard was what he understood

“Yes, I love you Luffy, more than friends do” he nods still thinking about your statement

“Ok! Me too!” Your eyes feel like they’re about to pop out of your skull, you’re so confused for a statement so blunt and direct

“Y-you… love me?”

“Yes, quite a lot, as much as meat actually!”- You had never came across someone like Luffy, he always seemed to surprise you with his antics but this… you were dumbfounded- “You’re funny, beautiful and strong! And so smart too! How could I not love you?” The way he speaks about his love for you makes your stomach turn in glee, like its the most obvious thing in the world, like he knows the sky is blue

Something you had never had before

A honest and real smile now spreads on your face which makes your Captain smile even wider back at you, his mission of bringing you back now complete and he basks on it, happy he got his way

“See! There you are!” His hands come up to crush your cheeks together, his fingers warm form the heat that exudes form them

“Luffy” the way his name leave your lips begs him to stop, big chocolate eyes hanging form above you like the stars in the night. Ever so slowly, your face cuts the space between you inch by inch leaving enough room for your stretchy captain to pull away if he wishes to. But he stays completely still, eager to find out where are you going and hoping it’s only closer

Your lips graze softly over his, a featherlight feeling that could be missed yet it sparks something deep inside both of you. You pull away to gaze at Luffy expectantly, as if afraid you had overstepped only to be met with twinkling eyes and a happy face. The butterflies in your stomach go wild once again but now they push you to kiss him again with more confidence and intention and Luffy welcomes it gladly, almost too grateful

“This is so fun, keep doing it!” He states between smiles and laughter that make you beam- “But only do it to me”

As if you were to love anyone else like this

Masterlist

[joelsgoldrush]

swore i heard you whisper that you preferred us like that

joel miller x f!reader / 5,8k words

summary: you ask joel –the quiet, distant joel– to teach you how to ride a horse. they say the eyes are the window to the soul, and it must be true, because when he really sees you, it´s like he finally understands what you feel for him.

warnings: smut 18+ let’s pretend joel never left jackson, porn with plot, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is in her late 20s, joel is 56), grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation, pet names, unprotected p in v (don't try this at home ok), dirty talk, soft!dom joel (sort of???), a bit of angst/feelings, joel gets all babygirl around reader, ellie appears for like a minute, mediocre attempt at recreating joel's southern accent (sorry in advance)

a/n: hello??? well this is my first fic ever so bear with me, i'm still new to all this. also english isn't my first language so i'm afraid there may be mistakes (mostly when it comes to collocations bc i hate them and they confuse me), buuuut i'm learning obviously and if you find anything that should be corrected PLEASE TELL ME thank you :) i'd appreciate if you told whether you liked this story (idk what to call it tbh) but if you don't it's more than fine! anyways thank you so much for reading if you come across this fic, i hope you like it! i've spent a week writing it bc finals season is killing me &lt;///3

here's my masterlist in case you want to read my other works :)

"Oh, my drunken southern star / How you tried to hide in darkness / Slipped from orbit / Now you’re dangerously close / Come out, come out from all your hiding out / We’ll dig in our heels, salute the battlefields / Where our broken hearts were born."

What is it that he has?

You used to ask yourself that question every night as you went to bed. On some occasions, you couldn't manage to come up with an exact answer. There were too many reasons that disclosed why a man like him lingered on your mind, even in those moments that were supposed to be for you and only you. Sleeping more than three hours a day was definitely something you needed tremendously, but still, the not-so-rational voice inside your head kept on bringing his name up without fail, disturbing your rest.

Joel Miller. Was it possible to feel like this? Like you knew somebody without having exchanged more than five words with them? Sure, there wasn't a single person in Jackson who wasn't aware of his existence. From whispered rumors in the streets to stories that intended to give his reserved personality an explanation, Joel became a real talking-point among those in the commune. Years ago, when the world was still just a floating ball in space, he would’ve frightened you, being the kind of person your parents used to warn you about as you started to grow older.

He walked a certain way, as if he were holding the suffering of many lives in his hands. Always on guard, prepared to fight those who defied him. Hidden knives in his pockets, a gun between his fingers, the trigger too tempting to be pulled at any time given. His hair was a mixture of brown and gray, and you swore that the latter was only becoming more prominent as days went by. 

Suddenly, your pillow felt too uncomfortable, your hands fisting the fabric of your t-shirt while you kicked the blanket resting on top of your bare feet. A sigh escaped your lips, the taste of something you couldn't even distinguish on your tongue, your unsteady breath being the only sound to be heard in that noiseless night. 

You were having a hard time figuring out how you felt about Joel (if there was anything to feel in the first place, since he barely remembered your face and there you were, fantasizing about him instead of sleeping.) Maybe you liked how he presented himself, how bossy and persistent he looked the times you caught him patrolling around the zone. Or perhaps it was his character what charmed you in the first place, and the fact that, deep down, a different side from him remained completely unseen.

He was handsome, too. Tall, broad shoulders, aquiline nose. His arms looked majestic in every single piece of clothing he wore, his tanned skin shiny enough to reflect the very same sun. And his legs… you were sure they were muscular like the rest of his body, because of all the physical effort he did. You had  heard that he worked as a contractor before the pandemic, which made a lot of sense. Once or twice you had paid attention to his hands and–

Then, a familiar feeling sinked in. Warm began spreading through your belly, your thighs involuntary clenching together. “Fuck,” you muttered in a low tone, keeping your hands glued to your sides. Another motive not to think about Joel: he made you feel… things. Certain things that you hadn't felt for anyone in a very long time. You preferred to think that it was probably due to the fact that you were touch-starved, and not because you found yourself deeply attracted to him. Never had you ever been a sexually active person, so why now? Why did the mere image of Joel in your mind turn you on? 

He’s strong. I’m alone. I feel the need to find someone who’s willing to protect me. That’s it. No other reason.

Your internal monologue was lacking in arguments, but it was definitely something you could work with. As if on cue, you found it hard to keep your eyes open, your limbs not feeling as if they were yours anymore. Next thing you knew, you were asleep.

That night, you dreamt with Joel.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

In a small cabin, you taught children how to paint and draw. Maria believed it to be helpful for their psychological development or something like that, and you had agreed to do it. A good way to spend your free time– that’s what it was. Plus, you liked children; some would even choose to include you in their drawings, and that small gesture just warmed your heart.

There, you met Ellie, a teenager whose basic vocabulary consisted mostly of profanities. 

And boy, you loved Ellie.

It was hard not to, actually. She was like a breath of fresh air, with her jokes and instant charm. You two became attached in a short time, and she reminded you of a younger version of you, just a lot braver. Although in this world it brought her benefits, you sometimes wished she wouldn’t have gone through all that shit. Those eyes, which squinted as she laughed if you tickled her sides, were the cemetery of many buried memories. You wondered how she managed to put a smile on her face despite her past and the horrible things she had seen, hoping it was genuine and not a mask.

“Look!” her voice brought you back to reality. Blinking in her direction, you realized the amount of paint you had dropped onto the floor, a red stain already forming on the carpet. “Are you okay? You seem off.”

“I’m fine! Just a bit sleepy today, that's all,” you got closer to where she was lying down, her fingers moving the brush you had gifted her in different directions. Squatting a bit, you placed a strand of hair that didn’t make it into her ponytail behind her ear. “So, what are you painting?”

She smiled warmly, and her teeth catched her lower lip momentarily. “It’s not finished, okay? Don’t freak out. I know you’re a perfectionist.”

“I’m not…” you tried to explain yourself, but ended up choosing to be defeated. “Maybe you’re right. Anyway, may I see it?”

The canvas was in your hands a few moments later. Ellie spoke beside you, her words mixing together in a sign of embarrassment. “It’s for Joel. Figured I could do something nice for him, you know? I don’t– I think I need to start over. His eyes look kind of strange, don’t they? They’re so close he looks like a cyclops.”

“Don’t say that, kiddo. This is… it’s beautiful,” your index finger traced the lines framing his jaw, the shades of his skin perfectly achieved. You held the painting even tighter, afraid of breaking it for a second. He wasn’t frowning like he normally did; Ellie had painted him smiling, and the crinkles by his eyes matched his age. Surely you must have spent more time than necessary staring at it, ‘cause then Ellie continued talking.

“Well, you know what they say: The student has become the teacher.” 

You handed the canvas to her, a smirk taking place on your face. “Yeah, I guess I’ll stop teaching you if that’s the case.”

An hour or so later, someone knocked on the door. As both of your hands were occupied (a more formal way to say that they were dirty with paint), you screamed “Come in!”, and Ellie covered her painting with an old, muddy curtain you used to clean the tables in which the children worked. You were about to ask her why she had reacted in that way, until you turned around and saw him.

Joel was there, as every other Wednesday. In your cabin, standing right in front of you. And you didn’t even look presentable. His hair looked messy, a couple of locks stuck to his forehead with sweat. “Hi,” he said shortly, meeting your gaze and attempting to shake your hand, but you avoided contact.

Showing him your hands, you held your palms in the air as an indication of the still fresh paint on your skin. “Sorry. If I were to accept the gesture, I’d leave you a stain.”

He retrieved a bit, adjusting his glove. “It’s okay. Safety first.”

That was supposed to be a joke, you noticed tardily. The silence in the room persisted until Ellie appeared from behind your back, already putting her coat on.

“You were supposed to pick me up in half an hour, asshole.”

His mouth snapped shut for an instant. “I missed you too. How was the class?” 

Ellie lifted her shoulder in a half shrug, looking in your direction and proceeding to jerk her thumb toward Joel. She didn’t want him to see the painting. “Fine as usual.”

“Can I see what you’re–”

“No fucking way!” she accentuated the word fucking, drawing him closer to the door. 

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not done.”

“But–”

“No more questions, Joel. Let’s go! Say bye!” Ellie handled him like a baby, which made you giggle.

Though you saw Joel raising his eyebrows, so you stopped laughing. 

Soon, they left and the cabin returned to its familiar quietness. A sigh erupted from your chest, and you allowed yourself to fall on top of a chair.

At least you could say you had actually talked to Joel for once.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

It didn’t surprise you that you wanted to see him again.

Not in the “you-turn-me-on” way, but in the “you-seem-interesting-and-i-need-to-find-out-why” one.

He had something. Something so magnetic and indecipherable that kept pulling you towards him. Something that made you look for his presence in every crew, and not sensing what it was only made your wishes to dissect him grow bigger. There was a tiny probability that he was an idiot with a pretty face. Who knew? You definitely didn’t, and that needed to change. You deserved to know if pining over that man was worth it or not.

That chain of thoughts led you to look for him the next day, almost trembling with eagerness as you asked him the most stupid and unexpected question you could have imagined.

“Would you teach me how to ride a horse?”

He looked at you as if you were out of your mind, opening his mouth a few times and then closing it before he actually replied to you. “You’re tellin' me you don’t know how to ride a horse?”

“Tried it a few times, but failed and now I really want to learn to do it properly,” you swore his eyes were trying to decipher if you were saying the truth or not. “Ellie told me that you could probably make some time to teach me?”

“So Ellie's in charge of my schedule, I suppose?” you froze on the spot, and he must have noticed it because then his expression dulled. “Sorry, sweetheart. It was a joke. I've been told I'm not the best humorist.”

Sweetheart. You could’ve died a happy girl.

“Look, why don’t we meet up tomorrow after lunch? I'm sure it won’t take us much time. Not a difficult task, y’know?” he stroked his beard, apparently thinking you understood what he was talking about. 

“Sure. Thank you, Joel. My name’s–“

He didn’t let you finish. “I do know your name,” and before leaving, he repeated: “I’ll be here tomorrow. You know where to find me.”

To say that you slept without interruptions that night was an understatement. Each hour seemed to become longer the more you glimpsed your watch. Your heart drummed inside your chest violently, and you feared that someone else would be able to hear it if they got close enough to you. 

After having lunch in the same spot as every other mundane day, your legs took you to the stable. You took a shaky breath, expecting him to appear out of thin air, but fifteen minutes went by, and there was still no sign of Joel. Pressing your forehead against the wooden door, you wrapped your arms around yourself. “What was I even thinking?” 

“Hey.”

You looked to your side and– there he was, already getting inside the stable and inviting you to follow him. Joel petted one of the horses, clicking his tongue. His fingers caressed the animal’s back, and when he shot a glance at you, he didn’t ignore your disturbed expression.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of horses.”

“I’m not afraid of them,” you laughed awkwardly, eyeing the horse, which stared at you with those big and strange eyes. You raised your hand to mimic Joel, but that just made the animal move further away from you. “I guess it’s mutual. We don’t like each other.”

Joel smirked, guiding you outside. “It’s a damn horse. I don’t think you can tell whether he likes you or not. You gotta change that attitude of yours,” he murmured as he got on top of the horse, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Treat him well and he’ll be nice.”

At first, Joel taught you the basics: how to position yourself for balance, get your legs in the right position, hold the reins properly. A little bit of help coming from him was needed for you to mount the horse. He got down on one knee, patting it as if it were a mounting block. “Come on. Step on it.”

No need to ask me twice, you thought as you did what you were told, and once you were grabbing on those reins for dear life, you observed him with curious eyes. “Now what?”

“Now…” he pressed his hand into one of the horse’s sides, and afterwards, the horse began to fucking trot and you cried out, a high-pitched shriek slipping from your mouth. Joel laughed maliciously, almost hypnotized by the scene. “Now is when you learn how to ride a horse!”

“This isn't funny!” you screamed, the horse still very much entertained with the way you were jerking on top of him. “Stop!”

You couldn't believe how he kept… cracking up. Joel touched his stomach, shaking with laughter. “You’re a natural, can’t you see it? I’m havin' the time of my life here.”

“What I can see is that you’re an idiot! Cut the cackle and help me!”

But he didn’t move a single muscle. Instead, he remained still, that smug look never abandoning his features.

The bastard. “You’re gonna make me beg? In this situation?”

Crossing his arms while teasingly grinning at you, he added: “Wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“Joel Miller, will you help me? Pretty please?” your hair was getting in the way, and you could taste it as you insisted. “Is that enough for you?”

It was, actually. He helped you get down from the horse, his thick fingers digging into the mushy skin of your waist. It shouldn’t have felt that good, but it did. You were supposed to be angry at him for setting you up and still, by touching you for a microsecond, he had transformed you into something malleable.

Sadly, that feeling didn’t last much longer. “Didn’t know you were a man of manners. Should’ve told me beforehand.”

“Didn't know you could scream like that. I hope you didn’t freak anyone out.”

The two of you continued to practice until nightfall. A thing you also learned, apart from horse riding, was that Joel was a determined man. Everytime you tried to quit, he stopped you, making it impossible for you to rest. You stared at him, rubbing the back of your sore neck with a grimace. “I’m tired. Can we go back?”

“One more time.”

“Joel–”

“Trot a couple of meters just one more time, and that’s it for today. Can you do that for me?”

You tried not to pay too much attention to his choice of words, although it was basically non-viable. He looked sinful, and you longed to shut him up with a bruising kiss. Again, a hopeless option. Your hands itched to touch him, to feel his stubble, rough and coarse under your thumbs. How could you stay focused when the man you had been daydreaming with for the last couple of months was bossing you around? 

Despite your inability to clear your head of any of those thoughts, you managed to accomplish what he had asked you to do. “Well done,” he offered you his hand to dismount the horse and you accepted it, sighing as you stretched out your arms. “We should take him back to the stable,” Joel suggested, giving you the impression of being pleased as you told him you were coming with him.

Inside the stable, he relocated the horse into one of the many stalls. Unbelievably, the place didn’t smell like absolute shit, which was what you were expecting from a barn. “Thank you for the lesson,” you told Joel once he was done with the horse.

“Anytime,” he scratched his jaw, the dim light making his dark eyes look, if possible, even darker. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“No. You were right,” your heart thrummed with every word that he blurted. His presence was addictive. You were never the one to have any bad habits, but deep down, you recognized that he easily could develop one. “I thought you were less talkative.”

“So did I,” for an instant, he pressed his lips together, forming a tight line, as if he had said something he shouldn’t have in the first place. “I think I didn’t ask you this before: but why now? I mean, why did you wait so much time to learn how to ride a horse? Everyone in Jackson seems to know how.”

You cleared your throat, his piercing eyes peering at your movements. “I guess I thought it wasn't necessary back then, before all this. It's one of those things that you don't even consider until it becomes inevitable. I used to believe I had a lot of time left when I was younger,” you had never talked about this with anyone else. There was something so intimate about this conversation, how Joel stood seemingly tongue-tied in front of you, as if he were taking notes of what you were confessing to him. “I remember being a kid and not wanting to use my toys sometimes because I kept waiting for the right moment. But then…”

“You realize there’s no such thing as the right moment,” he finished the sentence for you, and you bowed your head. “Life can end at any moment, especially in a world like ours. That’s why you always gotta do what you wish to. We never know what’ll happen tomorrow.”

“Live for today, hope for tomorrow? That’s your creed?” you tried to mock him, the tension in the stable far from evident, but he didn’t move.

“It’s the way I try to live my own life. I don’t like being left with the desire to do somethin’ I could’ve done earlier. Too old for that.”

Maybe you were gradually losing it. Perhaps just a little. It couldn’t be a coincidence, right? Had he noticed how you acted around him? Were you that obvious?

“So, you would advise me to just…”

“Do whatever you feel right, sweetheart.”

That raspy sweetheart made you give in.

His eyes. His penetrating, gleaming eyes scrutinized your face at the same time you closed the distance between your bodies. From there, you were able to see every freckle, every small detail that you hadn’t previously acknowledged. He parted his lips, as if to speak, but no words other than your name came out. One of your hands made its way up to his cheek, cupping it, feeling the warmth his skin radiated. His head immediately leaned into your touch, like a moth into a flame. 

You kissed him, unable to keep waiting. It took him what felt like ages to kiss you back, his fingers tangling in your hair. He absorbed your whimpers, pressing your back against the nearest wall. Maddening– it was the perfect word to describe how being kissed by Joel felt like. When you thought he was going to draw away from you, he just held you tighter until your lungs implored for some air. Your knees had never felt this weak, and you found yourself grabbing onto his shoulders, already feeling the places where his stubble had left its trace in flames. 

“Joel…” you mumbled against his lips, detaching your mouth from his. Your erratic breaths seemed to sync together like a melody, and you tugged at the collar of his jacket. 

He knew, could see it on your features. “Wanna go to yours?”

Joel took you home. The moment you set foot in the cabin, he closed the door behind him, his hand lingering on the handle as he contemplated you from a distance. You took your coat off first, starting to unzip your pants. There was silence long enough to hear crickets in, the moon up in the sky being the only bystander of your meeting. His eyes roamed the newly exposed skin of your legs and you observed him gulp. 

“Did something happen?” you asked him, a flush crepting up your face. Taking a step forward, one of his hands came to rest on top of yours.

“No, it’s just that– Are you sure you want this?”

Crinkling your nose, you uttered: “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m just too old for you,” he warned you, running a knuckle down your cheek. “You should be with guys your age, y’know? Not with an old man like me.”

“I want you,” reassuring him, you got rid of your t-shirt, and the fact he was still dressed up from neck to toes lit some kind of fire inside you. His calloused fingers fiddled with the strap of your bra until it slipped off your shoulder. “This is what I want. Please, Joel.”

It turned out that Joel Miller certainly was a man of manners.

You couldn't help but moan as he grabbed you by the waist, dragging you to the couch by the window and straddling his lap, his hard-on finding its place beneath you, pulsing and in need of more. His tongue brushed yours ever so often, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his teeth latched onto the skin of your throat. Joel groaned, the sound, low and primal, having its desired effect on you, your hips involuntarily grinding against his in a delicious but tormenting rhythm that already had you on the verge of tears.

“Joel, please,” you managed to plead, not knowing precisely what you were asking for. His hands cupped your ass, imprinting his fingerprints on the soft flesh, forcing your hips to go harder and harder. The harsh fabric of his pants was definitely going to leave a mark on your cheeks, and thinking that helped you realize that you were the only one –almost– naked. You reached for the buttons of his denim shirt, your lips hovering over his. “Take your clothes off?”

He did the rest himself, throwing his jacket to the floor. When he got to his jeans, he cocked his head. “Why don’t we move this to the bedroom, if you’re so goddamn needy?” The few guys you had been with had never been very talkative during sex; there was even this one specific boy who had asked you to not make a sound while he fucked you. 

But Joel wasn’t like them. It was just starting and you had already realized that he had a dirty mouth, an expectant look on his face every time he waited for your reaction to his words. “Now you’re quiet, huh? Thought you wanted me to fuck you, darlin',” one of his fingers pressed down on your clit, stimulating it through your underwear. He sighed, stopping his movements and pressing the damp pad of it against your lower lip, urging you to taste yourself. “You’re wet, baby. So fuckin’ wet. Have you been like this all day? Bet you would’ve let me take you right there in the forest.”

“Oh my God,” you whined next to his ear, your whole body trembling with desire. “Take me to bed,” you begged him, and next thing you knew, he was grabbing you as if you weighed nothing and heading towards your room. 

Not knowing how, you kept your hands to yourself until he placed you on top of the bed. Joel shoved his jeans down and you didn’t think twice– you stroked his length, the fabric of his boxers only making the slow drag of your hand more satisfying. His long fingers circled your throat, and you moaned as you kept eliciting exquisite noises from him. “Let me take care of you,” his dilated pupils carved holes in your being, his grip doing nothing to cease the ache between your legs. “Please, baby. I need to make you feel good. Been thinkin’ about this for so long.”

“What?” you slowed down your pace, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “You wanted me?”

“Why do you think I began to pick Ellie up from your classes, huh? Because I’m a good, generous man?” Joel parted your knees, getting closer to where you required him the most. “I’m sorry to ruin this, but I’m far from good. Just wanted to see you and your pretty face. Didn’t know if we were on the same page until you came lookin' for me, askin' me to teach you how to ride a damn horse,” you hadn’t noticed your bra was missing till he cupped one of your breasts, flicking your nipple between his fingers. “I’m sure there were many other people you could’ve asked to teach you, but you chose me, didn’t you?”

“Don’t want anybody else,” your lips chased his, a drop of sweat already rolling down your temple. “I didn’t– didn’t know you noticed me.”

“How could I not? If you could only look at yourself like I’m doing right now… You’re a sight, sweetheart, all spread out for me,” removing your panties, he kissed the skin where your inner thighs met, his tongue darting out to draw imaginary figures on your flesh. His mouth was just inches away from your cunt, and you had to tell him.

“Joel?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never– nobody has ever done that for me.”

He seemed to understand what you were referring to. It made you tense a bit, despite the fact that you were completely naked in front of him, basically begging him to tear you apart. Still, the realization that you weren't as expert as him hit you out of nowhere. Yeah, it was all fun and games, kissing and touching probably the hottest man you had seen in your almost three decades of life. But said man was a lot older than you, and he had lived his best years in the real world, not this fucked up version you grew up in. You were sure he had been with many different women, which wasn’t a problem– you two were nothing.

“Nobody has ever tasted ya’? That’s what you’re tryin’ to tell me?” you nodded quickly, shoving a strand of his graying hair back away from his eyes. Joel chuckled languidly, squeezing your hips. “Do you want me to? It’s okay if you don’t. We can try somethin’ else.”

“Please,” you’d have time to embarrass yourself later, thinking about the amount of times you had repeated that word. But certain moments were to be lived only once, and though you hoped it wasn't the case, you had to take the chance. “I want you to.”

Four words. It took Joel four words to disappear between your legs, licking a hot stripe up your folds. You nibbled on your bottom lip, a loud moan filling the void of your dorm. He drew sweet patterns in your cunt, discovering a part of you that no one else ever had, and you couldn’t help but to grind against his face as he dipped the tip of his tongue into your entrance. Breathing wasn’t a necessity anymore. You felt as if all the air in the world was being punched out of your lungs, the knot in your belly growing tighter the more Joel spent his precious time keeping you entertained.

At some point, he focused his attention on your clit, circling it over and over again, making you shudder. Suddenly, the pad of his middle finger tested the waters, and he slowly slid it into your cunt, earning a strangled whine from you. Burying your hands in his hair, your glossy eyes looked for him for a second. You shouldn’t have done that, because as you took in the sight of Joel with his own eyes closed, browns knitted, your nostrils flared, and you wondered if it was even possible to want somebody that much.

“Joel, wait, I’m– fuck,” your jaw went slack and you scrunched up your face, two of his thick fingers nudging that spot that made you see stars. “I’m close.” 

“That’s a good thing, sweetheart. Don’t know why you say it in such a dry tone,” his mouth curved into a smile, his chin and stubble shining with your slick. 

Your chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. “I don’t want to come yet.”

“But you will.”

A thing you also learned, apart from horse riding, was that Joel was a determined man.

“Joel–“

“I’ll make you come with my mouth, and then with my cock,” dizziness was starting to blur your vision, your eyelashes fluttering with every hard thrust of his fingers. You glanced up to the ceiling, tears filling your eyes. “Think you can do that for me, be my good girl and come twice?”

You bobbed your head. It was official: he was going to make you come.

Drawing in a long breath, you could feel the unbearable pressure in your core. His name sounded like a prayer on your lips, chanting it in the same way some people expressed their devotion to a certain God. You had your own personal deity, whose tongue accomplished to push you to the limit, licking every drop of your release as if it were a special kind of forbidden elixir.  

Your shoulders sagged and you relaxed under him. Joel kissed you, an open mouthed and filthy kiss crowning that moment as you panted. Through the cotton fabric of his boxers, you felt his hard-on poking your thigh. Shoving his underwear down, you took him in your hand, hot and just big, stroking him for real this time. You twisted your wrist at the tip, and he slumped forward, almost crushing you with his entire body weight, his breath dampening your neck. “Wanna fuck you, baby,” he croaked, his hips chasing your touch.

Out of all the scenarios you had ever imagined, none of them included being split open by Joel. You had a very vivid imagination, but no amount of creativity would’ve prepared you for what his cock would feel like inside of you. He bottomed out, his arms shaking where they rested on each side of your head. Joel’s breath quickened as he pulled out, just letting the tip, and then thrusting into you again.

“Fuck,” you didn’t recognize your own voice. It was even hard to decipher if you were still alive or dead from how magnificent he felt.

“So good, sweetheart. You’re so good, such a good girl,” he groaned, fucking deeper into you. His cock pulsed inside you, your cunt squeezing him. “Can’t believe how– how tight you are. You’re gonna make me lose my f–fucking mind.”

It was just too much. You hadn’t even recovered from your last orgasm before Joel started pounding into you like his life depended on it, the obscene sound of skin slapping skin ringing out in the room. 

“You gonna come, huh? Gonna make a mess?” you could sense he was also close, his pace faltering as seconds went by, words slurring together. He pressed his forehead against yours, clenching his fists and taking in a sharp breath. “Fuck. I’m not gonna last much longer, baby.”

Come inside, you wished to tell him, to feel his seed dripping out of your greedy hole, painting your walls. But you weren't on the pill; it was also the first time you were sleeping with Joel, and you didn’t know how he would take the… suggestion. “Close,” you yelped instead, tears shimmering in your eyes as Joel’s body hovered over you like the most perfect eclipse. 

His thrusts became more frenzied, if possible. “That’s it, darlin’. Come for me,” your gaze fixated upon him, his eyes flickering with hunger. “Wanna see you when you soak my cock.”

Your body went limp, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. Soreness took place in your throat as you moaned his name through the aftershocks, fireworks exploding behind your eyelids. Going rigid, you let go of Joel’s shoulders. He pulled out, mumbling something you didn’t quite catch. You fisted his cock, trying to give him the release he so yearned for. Joel kissed you, messy teeth and saliva taking part of it. Heavy on your hand, his dick twitched as you squeezed the base, roped of his warm cum splattering your belly. The scene reminded you of a painting; he was the talented painter, and you his blank canvas, waiting to be signed with his name.

It was the turn of silence now. None of you said anything for a while, until Joel used his boxers to clean up his cum from your stomach, smiling apologetically at you. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” your fingers delicately traced the contours of his chest as he reclined, enveloping you in the embrace of his strong arms. “Will you stay?”

Please say yes.

“Only if you want me to.”

Moral of the story: learning how to ride a horse can actually be nice if your teacher happens to be Joel Miller.

[unreliablesnake]

König couldn't help but smile while he watched you standing in the middle of the square, looking back and forth between the screen of your phone and the nearby streets with a confused look on your gorgeous face. You were lost, he could easily see that.

It was one of those rare occasions when he was off-duty, visiting his family in Austria without having to protect his identity with the usual veil. Yes, he felt naked, almost anxious again, but he reminded himself that everything was okay. He was alone. No one was following him. No one recognized him. It was all good.

So he laughed to himself quietly before walking over to you. "Excuse me," he began, already raising his hands in defense since he knew you would freak out because of his size alone. When you gulped and locked the screen of your phone, he went on. "You seem to be lost. Can I help?"

You hesitated, but your eyes never left his face. Were you just cautious and kept an eye on him to make sure he behaved? Or was there another reason? Maybe something was on his face? When he cocked an eyebrow at you, you cleared your throat and kicked the cobblestone sidewalk.

"I have the goddamn GPS in my phone and I'm still lost," you murmured angrily with an adorable nose scrunch. "I'm looking for this address," you told him once you found the email it was in.

He took a good look at the screen, and he couldn't help but smile. "I'm going right across the street, I can show you the way if you'd like," he offered.

Nodding, you put the device back to your pocket. "That would be great, thank you."

The two of you walked in silence for a while. König had a series of questions on his mind, starting with one about your name and one about whether or not you were a local. Even he got lost sometimes after being away for too long, so he wouldn't be that surprised to find out you were living in this city.

But he remained silent, and instead of opening his mouth, he silently observed your features, taking in the details as if he was trying to remember his girlfriend's looks. But you weren't his girlfriend, although a part of him desperately wanted to ask you out before you parted at your destination.

The great Colonel König was back to his anxious self because of you. His mind was in overdrive, one moment he was just about to open his mouth, the next he wanted to run away and hide from you. It was a terrible feeling, one he didn't have to face on the battlefield. Oh, how he wished he was back there.

"You're tall. And big," you suddenly mused as you turned to him with a smile. "I'm sure a lot of people tell you that, sorry."

He couldn't help but laugh at this. "Yeah, I get that a lot. And you're cute," he added without even thinking.

You came to a sudden halt and turned to him with your hands folded behind your back. "You think I'm cute?"

Damn it. Where the hell did that filter between his mouth and brain go? "I–I... It's not... Yes," he eventually admitted guiltily.

With a laugh, you moved closer to him and playfully nudged his arm with your shoulder. "You don't look bad either. Maybe we could meet later."

"As in going on a date?" You nodded with a smile. "I'd love that."

König knew you were close to your destination, so he pulled out his phone and gave it to you. "Can I get your number to discuss the details?" he asked.

Without answering, you took the device and typed your number along with your name before giving it back to him. "Give me a call or send me a text."

He looked at the new contact and couldn't hold back a smile. "I like your name."

"Speaking of names, you never told me yours," you noted with a pout.

"It's König."

"That's all? Hmm... mysterious. I like it."

The rest of the trip passed in silence, mostly because you wanted to avoid spoilers. We'll have time to talk on our date, you said. He was okay with that. But when he stopped in front of the building where you were heading, his heart sank. He didn't want to say goodbye yet, but there was nothing he could do.

Before he could register what was happening, you stood on your toes and gently pulled down his head to place a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thanks for showing me the way," you whispered to him.

"Anytime," König told you.

[pandapetals]

Book Club

You start a book club and drag Logan with you.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @enchanthings

"You're still doin' that book club thing tonight?" Logan grumbled from where he lay sprawled across the bed, one arm tucked behind his head, the other draped lazily over his chest. His eyes followed your every move as you stood at the mirror, adjusting your shirt, and checking your reflection.

"Yes," you said with a knowing smile, smoothing your shirt. "And you are coming with me."

In the reflection, you caught the moment Logan's relaxed expression shifted into a frown, his brows knitting together like a child being told it was time for school. "Why can't we just stay up here and, I don’t know, cuddle or somethin’?" He shot you a hopeful look, his voice low and gravelly, as if that would be enough to sway you.

You laughed softly, turning to face him, your arms crossing over your chest as you raised an eyebrow. "Now you wanna play the soft guy?" You teased, walking over to the bed and leaning down just enough for your lips to hover near his. "But no. You're coming with me."

Logan huffed, running a hand through his hair. "I ain't cut out for book clubs," he muttered. "What do I even talk about? Romance arcs? Plot twists?"

You smirked, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. "Well, I hope you did the reading," you teased, standing straight again. "Besides, the kids love you. You’ll be fine."

He grumbled something under his breath as he pushed himself up, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Did the readin'," he muttered, "but don’t expect me to be all enthusiastic about it." His eyes softened slightly as he stood, running a hand over your arm in a gentle, reluctant gesture of surrender. "Guess if you’re goin', I’ll go."

The common room was buzzing with energy when you arrived, Kitty, Jubilee, and a handful of other younger mutants were already gathered around, chatting excitedly. The makeshift circle of chairs and bean bags was cozy, and you could feel the buzz of anticipation in the air as they settled in, clutching their copies of the book.

"Hey, Professor!" Kitty beamed as she waved her book in the air. "We’re ready! This book was so good !"

You smiled warmly, taking a seat. "I’m glad you’re excited, Kitty. We've got a lot to talk about tonight."

Logan, however, had slunk in behind you, arms crossed, scanning the room like he was sizing up a battlefield instead of a friendly book club. He leaned against the wall in his usual gruff way, trying to stay out of the spotlight.

Jubilee shot him a curious glance. "I didn’t think you’d be into this book club thing, Mr. Howlett."

Logan raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond, just grunted in that noncommittal way he always did when he didn’t want to commit to an answer. You tried to suppress a grin, knowing full well how this evening was going to unfold.

"So," you started, glancing around the circle, "who wants to start? What did you guys think of the book so far?"

Kitty immediately raised her hand, bouncing a little in her seat. "I loved it! Especially the historical stuff. It's intense but also really well done."

Jubilee nodded enthusiastically, flipping through her book. "Yeah, the battle scenes were so detailed, like you could feel the tension."

At that moment, Logan’s expression shifted ever so slightly, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. He finally uncrossed his arms and moved closer, still silent but intrigued. You bit your lip to keep from smiling too widely. They had no idea they were about to strike gold with Logan's knowledge.

"And the whole section about the soldiers trying to get through the winter—" Kitty started to say, flipping to a page.

Jubilee cut in. "—Yeah, that was crazy! Do you think they really had to deal with that stuff?"

Just like that, Logan spoke, his deep voice cutting through the room as if he couldn’t help himself. "Yeah, they did," he said, stepping forward, his usual gruffness slipping away as he slid into lecture mode without realizing it. "Winter campaigns were brutal. Most soldiers weren’t equipped to handle the cold, and those who made it through had to deal with frostbite and infection. Supply lines were unreliable at best. Most of the time, they were fightin' more against the elements than the enemy."

The room went quiet as all eyes turned to him. Kitty and Jubilee’s faces lit up like they’d just discovered a secret weapon of knowledge.

"Wait," Kitty said, looking impressed. "You know a lot about this stuff, right?"

Logan shrugged, his tone casual as he took a seat. "Lived through enough wars to know what they were like." He paused, leaning forward, suddenly more invested. "In the book, the author’s got it mostly right, but there are some things he’s glossin’ over."

Jubilee raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

Logan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms again, but now he looked less grumpy and more like he was into it. "Well, for one, the way they’re talkin’ about battle formations—ain’t no way a general would have his men lined up like that in the middle of the terrain they were in. That’s suicide. And the supply chain issues? It was way worse than what the book says."

A hush fell over the room as the students hung on his every word, completely captivated by his unexpected expertise. Logan had gone full history professor on them, diving into the nitty-gritty details about troop movement, the harsh realities of war, and the subtle inaccuracies that only someone who had actually been there would catch.

You sat back, your arms crossed, a smile tugging at your lips. It was amusing, watching him go from reluctant participant to star of the show in under ten minutes. Logan had no idea, but he was teaching more than any book could.

Kitty’s eyes were wide with excitement. "Okay, wait. So you're saying the author actually got some stuff wrong? Like, they would’ve done it differently?"

Logan nodded, leaning forward. "Yeah. It’s not bad for what it is, but you can tell he’s never seen the real thing. Ain’t no shame in it, but there's a difference between readin' about it and bein' there."

Jubilee turned to you, grinning. "You picked this book on purpose, didn’t you?"

You gave a small shrug, unable to hide your smile any longer. "Maybe," you said, casting a playful glance at Logan, who was still explaining historical details to the wide-eyed students. He didn’t even seem to realize how animated he’d become, his hands moving as he spoke, his voice deep and authoritative, drawing them into the world of history with every word.

By the time the discussion wrapped up, Logan had fully taken over, his initial reluctance long forgotten. The students were buzzing with excitement, asking him rapid-fire questions about battles, weapons, and the realities of war.

As the kids began gathering their things to leave, Jubilee turned to you, still grinning. "Okay, this was way better than I expected. Logan’s like a walking history book."

"Yeah," Kitty chimed in, "we gotta have him come to the next meeting."

Logan shot you a look, one that was part exasperation, part amusement. You raised your hands in mock surrender. "Hey, don’t look at me. You’re the one who just gave them the best history lecture they’ve ever had."

He huffed, shaking his head, though you could see the slight curve of a smile on his lips. "Guess I ain’t gettin’ outta this next time, huh?"

"Nope," you teased, linking your arm through his as the two of you made your way out of the room. "You’re officially the history consultant for the book club."

Logan grumbled under his breath, but as you walked side by side, his hand found yours, and you couldn’t help but feel a little proud. He might grumble about book clubs and reading assignments, but when it came down to it, Logan couldn’t resist sharing what he knew—especially when it meant impressing you and the kids.

[the-kingshound]

Continuing the 'missing-my-siblings-hours', but, it's Osia, and before anything, I'd like to declare that in here, MC's dead.

This day couldn't get any worse. Osia thought, as she slices off the letter sent from the other noble Houses. Not when there's no one else to annoy her.

Her morning, as usual, started off perfectly. The water were neither too cold or too hot, the latest proposal to the Emporer had been approved, Saraah was not here at all... Hphm! There's no way she'd be thinking of him!

The face of her useless bother popped up in her mind only agitated Osia even further. She gritted her lips, in a force that's so harsh in no doubt she could've bite off whoever dared to cross her way.

Osia halted when she realized something was wrong. Years passed since she last interacted with the rest of the family but her sister, Adrei, and their recent letters bought news of MC's been on the battlefields to fight off another land's rebels.

Dog. Osia chuckled as she pushed down her nerves. Good for her though, being useful to both Crowns.

For a second, she was afraid. However, Osia's always been a warrior as well, only that her swords does not sway across the battlefields, but among the peeping eyes that gathered on her. And it always bought chill to Osia, to be under the spotlight.

She proceeded to cut off the string attached with her dagger, ignoring the slight sting and blood drops that flowed from her thumb.

And she couldn't believe what she'd just read.

No. This can't be... She'd powerful. Strong. Her magic are wild and controlled. If not, Father and Mother, at alone Adrei, wouldn't sent her to the battlefields——

What's the King doing!? Where were the knights!? It, it should've been them!? Anyone but her!?

Osia couldn't breathe through for a moment. Her mind went beyond the year Mother was pregnant, and she'd been there with the rest of her siblings, when MC, was born. She remembered holding her, and there's Saraah annoying her, telling the newly born infant bad jokes.

She'd told her. Osia closed her eyes, and the anxiety in it were gone next. That they're nothing but weakness.

Osia walked up to her wardrobe. Now, they'd needed a gown. Precisely all black. Adrei could wait a bit longer, surely her sister won't mind.

Osia let the blood bleed even longer than she noticed.

(So, this is my take on Osia. I honestly went with my own flow. And I hope I've captured her well.)

Osia lays in bed.

She hasn't been able to sleep for four days. Beside her, her husband's usual place is empty. If he followed her commands, he should be negotiating with Lord Argal now. She had gripped hos wrist and hissed, "do not come back home without the answer we want."

But even the thought of that task being fullfilled doesn't spark any kind of satisfaction in her. The only thing she is able to feel is the gnawing, horrible black void expand and expand ever since-

Abruptly, anger fills her entire body. She gets up without her usual calculated composure and she grips the wooden sword at the bedside table.

It was her stupid sibling's firs training weapon. Osia rembers the vile words she called them, watching over coldly as they had to get up from the ground again after another idiotic, careless error.

She hurls the wooden sword against the wall with an animalistic growl.

Again, she feels bile in her mouth, the same she would feel when, the next day, a Lady had said, coldly, "now that his guard dog is gone, I wonder who will King Arthur take in marriage to replace them."

Osia would sneer, and hiss at her face in a slightly cracking voice, after having grabbed her by the throat, "shut the fuck up or I'll make you."

[slytherinshua]

☾　REBORN, UNDEAD　( 성한빈 )

genre angst , fluff , vampire au , undead au , former vampire!hanbin x former vampire!fem!reader   cw blood and battle mentions (from the past in pt 2) , crying   wc 1363   request no   note for @nonononranghaee from the moot fic form (although ik you just went on hiatus but it's okay read whenever ur back !!) also please please read part 1 and part 2 of this fic series before reading part 3 because this will not make sense without reading part 2 esp!!! there will probably be a part 4 to this as well and we'll see after that. thank you so much for all the love on this series so far as well <3   net @kstrucknet @chrimatanet

“Stop worrying about me. I’ll be fine. I won’t get hurt. I promise I won’t.”

In eighteen hundred years, Hanbin had never broken a promise to you. Until now. He was painfully aware that somehow, something had gone wrong on that battlefield. He couldn’t remember what, but something alerted him that everything was very, very wrong. 

“Y/n? Y/n! Where are you?” Hanbin’s shouts landed on deaf ears, echoing around the dark void without anyone to receive them. He didn’t know where he was, or how he ended up there in the first place. The last thing he remembered was you holding him close, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead with tears in your eyes. Why were you crying? Why did you look so scared?

His gaze dropped to his hands, inspecting them as if they would give him some answers. They looked normal, but something felt different. He couldn’t feel his magic surging in his veins. Before, he could sense his heart beating slowly if he focused, but now, it felt like it was pounding in his chest, so loud he couldn’t stop hearing it. He ran his tongue along the front of his teeth: no fangs. 

Was he… no longer a vampire? 

He touched his collarbone, feeling for the tattoos. They were still there, yet they didn’t react to his touch. No glowing, no surge of his powers, just stillness. He gulped. For the first time, unquenchable fear filled his body.

For hundreds of years he had learned to live a certain way. Always close to you, so that his powers could be strongest. Always in harmony between his natural body and supernatural vampiric features. He never needed to worry about sickness or the cold. He could transform into a bat at will or heal wounds, both physical and mental. 

He felt useless now, unable to do any of the things he used to. Lost, without a single direction to go towards. He couldn’t remember what he did as a human; what he used to fill his time with. It was too long ago to recall. He felt like he had just been born again, with no sense of how to go about the world. He’d have to learn all over again. But first, he was determined to find you. 

He wasn’t himself without you. You had held a part of him for too long, caring for his soul as if it was your own. If he wasn’t with you, he had no purpose. So, he took a few steps forward, slowly getting used to the feeling of the ground beneath his feet. Every step took energy he wasn’t used to expending. He felt weak, as if he could pass out at any moment. A pounding headache across his forehead and a weak unstable feeling in his knees. He had never felt this weak as a vampire. 

With each step he took, more ground appeared beneath his feet. Slowly, a sort of town came into view. It was quaint. Little wooden cottages topped with red roofs. Signs pointed out the street names and directions. He stopped to read a few, figuring out which way to head next. He hesitantly chose the town centre, deciding it was a reasonable spot to start. 

People stared at him as he walked by. He didn’t care to find out why. Years of only caring about your opinions trained him to not give them a second glance. He knew his purpose, sure of himself and confident. Although he was scared to admit that his confidence was wavering without you by his side. 

He reached the town square where an official looking building stood next to a fountain. He assumed it must be the governor’s office or some mayor’s building. Maybe he could get a list of residents? He stepped up the stairs, pulling the door open to be met with a fairly empty entranceway. There was a line of counters, behind which secretaries typed away at their typewriters and scribbled on paper with pens. He walked up to one of the open spots on the counter, face-to-face with an elderly man who’s fingers flew across the typewriter with practised ease.

“How may I help you?” His accent was thick and his tone weighted down by dull tiredness. He didn’t seem fazed by whatever had caused the other residents to stare unabashedly at Hanbin. The old man barely blinked twice at him.

“I’m looking for a list of residents in the town. I need to contact someone.” Hanbin said quietly. The man nodded, muttering that he would find a list in the back somewhere. As Hanbin was left alone for the time being, he surveyed the other people in the building, each talking at the counter as well. They were too quiet for him to make out the conversations; his hearing significantly weakened since he lost his powers. One voice stood out, though.

“No, not Hanjin— I’m looking for Hanbin! Sung Hanbin.”

Hanbin’s eyes widened, his head whipping around to try to find the owner of the loud voice. 

“How many times do I have to repeat myself? He’s about 180cm tall, has dark black hair, pale skin, and a slim face. He has to be in your records somewhere.”

“Ma’am, I’m sure we can find him, rest assured. What did you say his birthday was again?”

“June thirteenth.”

“What year?”

“25.”

“1925?”

“No. 25. The year 25. Zero, zero, two, five.”

“Ma’am, I’m not sure I follow. Do you mean to say he is over nineteen hundred years old? No human has ever—”  

Hanbin had never felt his heart race so fast. Adrenaline pulled at every muscle in his body so suddenly he could hardly comprehend what was happening before his legs were rushing him over to where you stood, arguing with the lady at the counter.

“Y/n,” He called to you, and time seemed to slow as you turned your head. “Excuse us,” He mumbled quickly to the lady at the counter, grabbing your wrist and pulling you out the door of the building. He kept walking, his hold on your arm tight, afraid you would disappear. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, entranced by his appearance. Once he had found a secluded area, he stopped walking, trailing his hand up your arm to your shoulder instead.

“What happened? Where are we?” The questions flew out of his mouth. You didn’t have an answer for him. 

“I’ve been looking for you for days.” Tears brimmed in your eyes as you looked at him. You touched his cheek with your hand. It felt warm. 

“What happened on the day of the battle?” He asked again, prying for an answer. You shook your head, tears falling. You just stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him, head against his chest. Shaky breaths in as you felt his heartbeat; steady, fast, warm. 

“I don’t want to think about it.” You told him quietly. Hanbin could only hold you, mind confused and worried. There were so many questions he had. He was sure you had the answers, if only you’d tell him. But he wouldn’t push you, not when you clearly were in a delicate mental state. 

He wished he could feel you like he used to. You had only been in his arms a few minutes, but it felt different. He couldn’t relax your body with a spell, or get a peek into your thoughts. He tried to figure you out from the outside, and that was a difficult task. 

“We should get you new clothes. These ones are soaked with blood.” You mumbled after a while, face still buried against his chest. Hanbin looked down to his sleeve, noticing for the first time that he did have very obvious stains. No wonder he got so many curious stares. He wondered what they were from. Surely, it couldn’t have been his own blood. He wasn’t injured or bleeding. 

“Y/n, what is this town?” Hanbin asked anxiously, as he spotted someone looking at you both from across the road. 

“It’s for the undead. Everyone here has already passed away, including you and me.”

“What?”

zerobaseone taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @okshu,, @chewryy,, @haecien,, @sobun1est,,

@emmylksblog,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone,, @sxmmerberries,,

@cupidslovearrows,, @dimplewonie,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @mjupis,,

@kangtaehyunzzz,, @nonononranghaee,, @forever-atiny,, @nicholasluvbot,, @stantxtforabetterlife

[moodymisty]

I request that you write about whatever 40k character you've currently got brainworms for. Space Marine or Primarch, smut, angst, or fluff, it don't matter to me. I love them all, and everything you write ends up being a treat to read :)

Author's note: If you or any other serf you know is suffering from Sad Pussy Disease, please report to your nearest Captain.

Relationships: Theo (Lamenter OC)/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Vaguely lewd, Slight period kink,

Theo's vox begins to hail with a sudden alarm across his helmet's hud, from a channel he recognizes. He steps away for a brief moment and pulling off from his squad of brothers, before answering.

"What is wrong?"

He says, voice filled with worry. A million different things races through his mind with a speed that only an astartes can muster.

He gave this channel to you for emergencies- to make sure you were safe while he was gone. Serfs generally took good care of each other but Theo knew you were outcast by a lot of them since becoming his personal serf, friendships fading away as you moved to his quarters to tend to him. He wanted to give you the ability to tell him if something was wrong; If he needed to perhaps even ask a favor of a brother.

Moments after he speaks your voice is like a gentle song that washes over him, even with the crackle and distortion of a vox channel reaching the limits of its communications span. He can see distantly up in orbit the ship you're on from his position planetside, but even that stretches the limits of his short range comms.

"...I miss you..."

Theo lets out a massive sigh from his three lungs, once he realizes you aren't in danger. His voice loses that sense of worry and instead changes to a more stern tone.

"This channel was not for you to use unless there was an emergency." You whine, and Theo feels his resolve break a bit; He hates how your pleading and begging tears right through his armor at his resolve. "We are ahead of our projections, we should return by the end of the solar week." You whine again, and he can just barely hear you rolling around on his cot.

"If this next advancement goes to plan as well, some of us might return to the ship to regroup. I might see you then."

Theo ignores a curious look from a fellow Lamenter passing by, who then realizes he's standing so oddly away from them due to taking on vox.

"But you will still have your armor on?" Theo wonders what is with all your odd questions, but answers anyways.

"Yes, but I can still visit you with-'

You let out an even louder whine, cutting him off.

"But I miss you, Theo."

He doesn't get what you mean at first, before you clarify. There's a desperation and sadness in your voice he isn't entirely familiar with.

"My cycle just started and I miss you, nothing else is working I just want you..."

You can hear the crackle of silence over the vox, before he clears his throat. This was the last thing he needed to hear while being swamped in enemy fire underneath the sweltering heat of this desert world. Sand crunches in the seams of his armor, while he can only think of the softness of your skin.

"My fingers don't feel as good as you..."

Theo has been feeling hungry, having been at least two Terran months since he last bit you, and now he knows that with your cycle- you had taught him the term and it's meaning in a lengthy conversation- started, he now has a literal feast laying in his quarters right now. One that is whining, begging for his cock.

Theo walks away a bit farther, to avoid anyone hearing his voice through his helmet. Astartes ears are more than a bit keen, and even if they're busy talking through battlefield theoreticals he does not want them catching even a single word of this.

But it is not... Unheard of around the Lamenters for them to take solace in their baseline refugees. It is also not unheard of for serfs like you that bleed monthly to be rare meals for wayward Lamenters; The scent alone oftentimes has them drooling, and to have a taste of blood with less risk of injuring their baseline companions is a tantalizing opinion.

"My love, I will return to you soon,"

He is going to punish you for this; Now he has to fight in this dead, skeleton filled desert knowing he has you wet and waiting for him in the confines of his quarters.

"And when I am back, I am going to mouth that cunt of yours until you regret ever using this vox for reasons you weren't supposed to."

He hears your excited little noise. He knows he's giving you exactly what you want, but he can't help it. Neither his heart or stomach will allow it.

"l'll see you soon,"

You say with a pep on your voice, the sound of something happy to get their way. Theo wonders if you realize just how rare you are to be able to command an astartes.

"Soon. Now end this vox and do not touch it again unless you are in danger."

You do as he tells you, but he swears he can hear the start of a laugh right before you cut the connection.

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: A Soulmate AU.

-

First, he tries following it out of the battlefield. He doesn't know his name, or how old he is, where even where he is, but he knows that whatever is at the end of the string is important. It's Home, and home is not the battlefield.

But he walks for days and days and days, and yet the string keeps going. So does the battlefield.

On day four, he collapses to the ground out of hunger. He pulls at the string loosely, fingers going right through it. But it's there, he can see it!

His eyes drift shut as his stomach curls inside of him.

Footsteps crunch, and then there's a hand brushing the hair out of his face and gentle fingers checking his temperature.

"Go," he croaks, throat dry from thirst; he ran out of water on day two, and he hasn't found any since. "Get out of here. If you follow the string..."

He trails off with a wheeze. He doesn't whimper, though, and he definitely doesn't cry; he thinks that he's probably a kid, but he thinks that he's also supposed to be a soldier, and soldiers don't cry.

The person beside him says something in a language that he doesn't quite understand. It sounds like... English?

Okay. He can try English.

Pointing with the finger that the string is tied around, he cracks an eye open and looks up at the other soldier.

"The string," he stresses. "Red. Go... with it?"

The person next to him's face is obscured by their big hood, but he can see a pair of glowing white eyes widen in surprise.

"Oh," they say, "that's not supposed to happen."

And that's when he passes out, his hand outstretched towards whatever Home is.

-

Second, he tries cutting it off. He's eighteen and trapped in a cave on an island with a gun. The gun only has one bullet.

What a coincidence. Cell only has one life.

Pac and Mike and Guaxinim are long gone, and Cell is about to be gone in a different way. A dead way. Because he's going to die, he can feel it in his bones: the overwhelming and suffocating weight of the knowledge of his own ensuing mortality. It's heavy, heavy enough to keep him pinned to the cave's floor with the gun in his hand pressed against his temple.

The finger pressed against the trigger has the red string tied around it. What a fucking joke.

Cell laughs. He laughs so hard he cries. He screams with it, arms flailing and legs kicking and body convulsing. His chest hurts. It's his heart, he thinks. The supposed soulmate on the other end of the string mourning him before he's even gone.

He tosses the gun away by accident. Whatever. He'll get it back eventually.

Rolling onto his side, he clutches at his hand, and he glares at the string.

"What do you want?" he asks it (asks them.) "Why are you still here?"

The string doesn't answer. The tightness in his chest doesn't lessen, either.

He shakes his hand a little. Nothing comes out of it, but it sure makes him feel better.

Back in the War, BadBoyHalo told Cell that he wasn't supposed to be able to see the string. Nobody's supposed to but the Goddesses of Love. But here Cell is, chained to some unknown person across the globe who's supposed to be his soulmate.

Hah, as if. If there's anything that Cell has learned since waking up on that battlefield, it's that he's alone. He was born alone, bathed in blood, and that's how he'll die.

He cries some more, this time out of frustration. Just one bullet? Really? What if he misses?

The others abandoned him to die, expecting him to put himself out of his misery. As if he would ever give them the satisfaction.

With a sudden rush of anger, Cell sits up onto his knees and grabs the gun and aims it right at his finger. And then he aims just a bit upwards, because he doesn't want to take his own finger off, thanks. He's already going to starve to death. He doesn't want to be in pain while it happens.

One eye squints shut.

He pulls the trigger.

The string remains.

Cell screams.

-

Third, he tries getting rid of it. He's too old to be believing in such silly things as soulmates. (He's too old to believe that he would ever have one.)

He wears gloves. They cover the knot tied around his finger, but the string stretching over the horizon remains.

He doesn't believe in religion, not really; he's a firm believer in the occult. No gods, just the things that lurk in the shadows with him.

He prays to the Goddesses of Love, anyway, begging for them to take the string away.

"Please," he pleads, hands folded and propped up on the edge of his bed. "You made a mistake."

The string in front of him goes through his bedroom wall and out into the city. God only knows where it leads, but Cellbit's pretty sure that it leads to a glass cell and an electric chair with his name written all over it. The Goddesses of Love will be in the audience watching, and they'll blow him kisses as the helmet is lowered over his head.

Vaguely, Cellbit can't help but wonder if the string is what got him sent to war to begin with. The Goddesses realized that they fucked up and gave a mortal the ability to see his Red String of Fate, and they stole him and his memories and plopped him right into the middle of an active war zone so humanity could clean up their mess for them.

BadBoyHalo said that being able to see the string is a blessing disguised as a mistake. But... how?

It's a curse. Every day, Cellbit wakes up and sees the string. The string doesn't say anything, technically, but it doesn't need to be able to talk to be able to tell him that he's alone.

It's a mistake. Every day, Cellbit wakes up and sees the string. It's tied around his left-hand ring finger, but Cellbit knows that he doesn't have a heart for it to connect with.

It's a joke. Every day, Cellbit wakes up and sees the string. It isn't real, because what kind of monster would be allowed the privilege of having a soulmate to begin with?

-

Finally, he tries ignoring it. He's twenty-six, he's over it.

Nobody else knows about the string. They don't need to know. It's wrong, anyway.

Cellbit can't see others' strings, but he knows that they have them. Like, there's Pac and Mike. They're soulmates.

They're lucky to have each other as their ship crashes. They hold onto each other and scream as Felps tries spinning the wheel some more uselessly and Cellbit stares down at the string and swears that it's redder than it was literally just a day ago.

And then the ship crashes.

And then the island's inhabitants save Cellbit and the others from the wreckage.

And then Cellbit sees the string tied around someone's finger, and he follows it with his eyes until he sees his own finger, and he grabs his new son and his friends and takes off into the wilderness.

"It's a mistake," he mutters, chopping wood for Richarlyson's bed.

"It isn't real," he whispers, gathering wool for Richarlyson's bed.

"It's wrong," he decides, cobbling Richarlyson's bed together.

It has to be. Hah. It's wrong! Hah. Hah!

Cellbit laughs. He laughs so hard that he smashes his thumb with a hammer, and then he stops laughing and instead shouts and yanks his glove off to check the damage. Of course, it's the same hand the string is tied to.

Of course.

But... it's wrong. It's wrong! It's a mistake. Because...

He checks his thumb. It's fine.

He pulls his glove back on. It's fine.

Because. Just. Just because.

-

And then he's forced to acknowledge it the night after Bobby's death.

He and Richarlyson are among the last to leave the rescue party after getting back to Roier's house. Richarlyson can't stop looking up at the castle. Cellbit can't stop looking at Roier.

They're... friends. Because, okay, Cellbit can't help it, Roier is fucking awesome. He's funny, and he's kind, and he's (admittedly) handsome. He doesn't deserve to be tied to Cellbit's soul, but that doesn't mean that Cellbit hates him. (He wishes he did. It would be a lot easier to mope, then.)

Roier is a shell of himself. His eyes are hollow and empty and his hair is a mess and there's blood and monster guts crusted over his overalls and shirt and streaked across his face and cut into by dried tears. He's standing in the middle of the castle's courtyard just... staring. Into the air.

Jaiden is gone. So is everybody else. It's just Richarlyson and Cellbit left, but it's getting close to Richarlyson's bedtime, and he's supposed to be spending the rest of the week with Pac and Mike. That's a bit of a walk away.

"Richas," Cellbit quietly calls. "Come on. Let's..."

He trails off, biting back a fresh round of tears as Richarlyson just slowly nods and pulls out his warpstone.

"Pac and Mike," Cellbit reminds him.

Richarlyson nods again.

And then he's gone, and it's just Cellbit left.

Roier hasn't moved since Jaiden left. His body sways in the wind like a corn husk.

Cellbit takes a step closer. He stops. He takes a step back.

"I-" he cuts himself off with a wet cough, looks down. "I'm... if you need anything, Roier. Anything. Just say the word. I'll be here."

No response from Roier.

Hesitantly, Cellbit pulls out his own warpstone.

It's as he's scrolling down to the Favela's name that he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. He glances up and almost falls over as he watches Roier try and try and try again to grab the string hanging limply between himself and Cellbit.

"Stupid- fucking-!" Roier swears. "I can't-"

His hands are shaking. So are his legs. So is the rest of him.

Cellbit rushes forward and just barely manages to catch him before he collapses. He holds Roier against his chest, staring blankly into the air past Roier's shoulder.

Roier wraps his arms around him in a tight hug. His face buries itself in the crook of Cellbit's shoulder, and he starts crying again.

This time, Cellbit cries with him.

(Months later, Cellbit sits on the beach of Purgatory with his gas mask in his hands. Baghera is back at the cave napping. He'll probably join her in a second. For now, he kinda just wants to stare into the sun and succumb to the radiation. It tickles in a bad way, but at least he can feel.

He doesn't blink as a spot appears on the horizon. He always hallucinates when the radiation starts getting to him.

He doesn't blink as a boat pulls up onto the beach next to him. He always hallucinates when he's about to die.

He doesn't blink as a body collapses onto the rocks by his side. He always hallucinates when he starts thinking too much.

He does, however, flinch as a pair of strong arms wrap around him, and he can feel himself start to cry as his husband uses one of his other arms to grab Cellbit's hand and hold it up. The string is short, slightly frayed, but it's there.

"I fucking told you this thing is useful," Roier grumbles.

And... maybe so, after all.)

[imaginesfordifferentfandoms]

Where We're Meant To Be

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Prompt - The five times you hugged Captain Rex plus the one time he hugs you

The first time it happened Rex wasn’t expecting it. His attention hadn’t even been on you at the time, which was rare in itself because his eyes always seemed to find you. Now though he was focused on the scene ahead, the memory of battle droids coming from all over, too many to count and even less time to think playing in his mind. The only thing that mattered was his blaster and the droids. 

When the fight was over and the battle won Rex walked away, there were too many of his brothers lying motionless on the floor. Battles were hard, war was hard and sometimes he just needed a moment. 

He didn’t know for sure how long he’d been gone for before he heard footsteps behind him. He didn’t turn to look at whoever had approached him either. He just stared ahead. 

You smiled sadly at Rex, lately the battles had been worse than ever, more and more of the 501st were dying and you knew it was taking a toll on the Captain. You didn’t need the Force to feel his sadness, it was written across his face plain as day. 

Rex stayed silent, not even glancing over at you and you weren’t sure he was even fully aware you were there, lost in his own thoughts, drowning in loss and pain. 

You wrapped your arms around him, it was the only thing you could do, there were no words to make any of this better, as much as you wished they could there were no words that could bring his brothers back, no words that would end the war. 

The only thing you could do was remind him he wasn’t alone. 

The first sign Rex gave of finally noticing you were the was by tensing in your arms, his whole body stiff as a board at the contact. You stayed where you were though, head against the plastic on his chest and arms around his waist. 

“What are you doing?” He finally managed to ask, his voice low as he tried his best to keep his composure even as the feeling of you around him made him want to break. 

“Hugging you.” You answered quietly, feeling the confusion coming from him and your heart ached for the Captain. 

“Why?” He asked again, swallowing around the lump in his throat and hating the stinging of tears he felt. 

“Because I’m sorry. Because you’re not alone, because this war is exhausting.” You sighed and felt him take a shuddering breath, hesitating a moment before bringing his arms to wrap around you. 

The touch was unsure, like he hadn’t actually ever hugged anybody before and with what little information you’d managed to piece together about Kamino and the Kaminoans you wouldn’t have been too surprised if that was the case after all. 

Rex stayed like that for a little longer, somehow the feel of your arms around him made things seem a little better, made it a little easier to breathe. 

The next time it happened neither of you had been expecting it. It had been months since you had last hugged Rex though since then you had thought about it plenty. 

Rex and you had been commanded to lead half of the 501st to one side of the base whilst Anakin led the other half to the other side. 

That should have been the easy part and yet when an explosion sounded from Anakin’s side your stomach dropped before suddenly there was a full battalion of battle droids in front of you. 

You lost track of who was where, lost in the midst of battle droids, deflecting blaster shots as quickly as you could but even you were struggling to keep up as the battle droids drew closer. 

At some point you managed to get it under control, ending up back to back with Jesse as you took down as many droids as you could. 

It felt like the battle went on for hours, by the end of it you were bruised and sore but still alive. You looked around the battlefield, trying to find Rex among the crowd and gasped when you saw him on the ground, members of the 501st surrounding him. 

You pushed through the small crowd and knelt down next to him, carefully pulling off his helmet to see a cut above his forehead bleeding heavily down his face. 

“Help me get him to Kix.” You said to Fives and Echo, both of them nodding and carefully picking Rex up between them. 

You had wanted to wait with Rex until he was awake but the Council had insisted on having both you and Anakin present as you gave accounts of what had happened. You had tried to argue with Anakin, watching as he threw a worried look his Captain’s way but told you it was the Council’s orders. 

Kix had been the one to assure you that Rex would be alright, that he just needed some rest and then he’d be up like nothing had happened. You had gotten him to promise to send someone to get you if Rex so much as winced in pain and he sent you away with an amusement smile. 

“You’ve got a good one there, Captain.” Kix murmured to the sleeping man once you were out of ear shot. 

You barely heard anything during the meeting, both Obi-Wan and Master Windu had to call for your attention several times and when it came time for you to recount what had happened on your side you rushed through it, hoping to get back to Rex’s side before he woke up. 

“Is everything alright, Y/N?” Obi-Wan asked you softly, his concern clear across his face.

“Rex got injured during the attack.” Anakin answered for you and Obi-Wan’s look of concern shifted to one of knowing, not that you were sure what it was he knew. 

“We shouldn’t be too long now, Y/N. You can check on your Captain soon enough.” Master Windu shot Obi-Wan a small glare but you didn’t care enough to read into it, just smiled gratefully at Obi-Wan and prayed to the Force that it really wouldn’t take much longer. 

By the time the meeting finally ended you were practically bouncing on your heels to get back to Rex. When the holo shut off you turned to see Anakin looking at you with a mix of fondness and amusement. 

“Go on then, go see your Captain.” Anakin smirked, copying Obi-Wan’s words from earlier. 

You didn’t even stop to roll your eyes at him, instead you practically ran from the tent and back over to where the med bay had been set up. You paused when you saw Rex walking out, a frown on his face as he rubbed at his temple carefully. 

You immediately made your way over to him, throwing your arms around his waist to hug him tightly. Without the plastic armour in the way you could hear his heart beating quickly in his chest. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” You murmured into his chest, closing your eyes and focusing on that heartbeat. 

Just like last time Rex went stiff in your hold but it didn’t last long, the Captain let himself relax in your arms, bringing his own arms up to wrap around you, letting you ground him now that the battle was done. 

Rex was tired. It was hard to know what day it was whilst they travelled through hyperspace, the cycles all merging into one another. 

He hasn’t slept in days, after the latest mission that had left everyone sore and drained, he had avoided his room and focused on his holopad, making sure everything was up to date. 

He frowned to himself as he wrote down the names of all who had been lost in the battle, letting anger and rage wash over him before shaking his head. There was nothing he could do for them now, he could only protect what was left of his brothers. 

He pushed himself away from the table, unable to carry on and walked out of the room, making his way through the corridors of the ship with no real destination in mind and feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders when he saw you talking to Echo and Fives. 

You were the first to notice him, your whole face lighting up with a smile when you saw him and Rex felt his heart speed up. That was something he had started noticing more and more, whenever he saw you his heart raced wildly. He knew he liked you, from the moment he met you his first thought was that you were so beautiful but he never dreamed of acting on his thoughts.

There was too much risk involved for both of you and besides what would somebody like you ever want with him? Rex was just another Clone, sure he might have the title of Captain but at the end of the day when somebody looked at him all they saw was a Clone.

“Rex!” You beamed as he approached the three of you, watching as Echo and Fives grinned at each other after looking between Rex and you.

“General.” He smiled back, his smile widening as you rolled your eyes at him.

For months now you had insisted he call you by your name and for months he had held onto your title. 

“We were just going.” Fives said, giving Echo a pointed look and Echo chuckled as he agreed, the two of them waving goodbye whilst snickering to each other.

“I don’t even want to know what they’re up to.” You laughed softly before turning your attention back to Rex, smile dimming slightly when you saw the tiredness that seemed to radiate from him. “You okay?”

“No need to worry about me.” Rex told you in lieu of a real answer causing your eyebrows to knit together. 

Rex knew you wouldn’t let the topic drop, he knew once you got it into your head that he wasn’t ok you wouldn’t just leave him be. If it had been anyone else it would have bothered him, he hadn’t asked for help so he didn’t need it. But somehow it was different when it was you, somehow when it was you he didn’t mind. 

In fact it sent a warm feeling through him, one that he usually tried not to think too hard about. Recently though he hadn’t been able to ignore it, it had been months since that first time you had hugged him and yet that small bit of contact seemed to have awoken something inside him. 

Rex shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was to feel your arms around him, now that you’d done it once and he hadn’t pushed you away you seemed to have taken that as acceptance even if he himself had never initiated a hug yet. 

“It’s been a long mission, huh?” You murmured into his chest, your hand rubbing a comforting rhythm into his back and he felt himself begin to relax with each brush. 

The hugs seemed to break down any walls he had, sending them crumbling like they were nothing more than a house of cards. Each time you hugged him he felt the embarrassing sting of tears that were unbecoming of a Captain, if any of his men could see him now.

But they couldn’t. 

The hallways were clear and he had a feeling Echo and Fives would see to it that they stayed that way if their matching grins meant anything. He laughed in your hold, the sound coming out weak and more sob-like and he was faster to wrap his arms around you this time, letting his head rest on top of yours to hide his watery eyes.

“Yeah,” He breathed out, “yeah General it has.” 

There wasn’t much more to be said, nothing changed the fact that you were in the middle of a war. Your soft whispered words of reassurance made him feel better, but nothing helped as much as your arms holding him tight, reminding him that no matter how much he lost, he still had you.

The next time you hugged Rex was different compared to all the other times. It happened on a night where the 501st were grounded in Coruscant and the men had all planned a much, much needed night at 79’s.

Rex hadn’t been the one to ask you to join them, Jesse had beat him to it but when you protested, claiming that this should be time they spent together and away from their General’s Rex had laughed and insisted you were welcome, that they’d be more than happy for you to come with them.

“Are you sure you guys don’t mind me coming along?” You asked and Rex had given up counting how many times you’d ask the same question since he arrived to pick you up at the Jedi Temple.

The moment he first saw you he felt his eyes widen and he cursed his stupid heart as it began its predictable quickening pace that it had developed around you. You looked beautiful though, gone were the Jedi robes and in their place was a short dress that had Rex swallowing around a sudden lump in his throat.

“General, I swear to you we’re all happy you’re joining us tonight.” Rex told you with a warm laugh that had you smiling over at him, feeling your own heart begin to match the speed of the Captain’s.

You had never been to 79’s before and you couldn’t help but smile as you walked into the cantina, you recognised troopers from all different battalions, the place was warm and you couldn’t help the sudden intake of breath when you felt Rex’s hand on your lower back, the most amount of contact he had initiated with you outside of the battlefield.

You let Rex guide you over to a booth at the back, overly aware of his hand the whole time and savouring the feel of him against you before he let go to gesture for you to enter the booth first. You smiled at the cheery welcome the pair of you got from those who were already there, recognising both members of the 501st and the 212th.  

Rex took the holopad from Cody with a smile, starting a conversation with the Commander as he ordered the two of you drinks. Your smile widened when you realised you didn’t have to tell him your drink of choice, watching as he ordered your usual without needing to ask. 

One drink turned into two, two into four and before you knew it you were leaning into Rex’s side, cheeks flushed from the alcohol and laughing loudly along with the others at something Fives had said. 

If asked Rex wouldn’t have been able to repeat what Fives had said, he was too busy looking at you. You were beautiful all the time but this was a side to you he didn’t get to see often, one he wanted to see much more, usually everything was shrouded with a bone deep exhaustion from the war but here it was easy to forget what was happening, here he could sit back and watch you laugh.

In here it was easy to forget the rules, forget that you were his General and he could be sent back to Kamino if he dared give into his feelings for you. In here it was easy to forget that both Jedi and Clones were forbidden from such thoughts, easy to forget everything when he could feel your head on his shoulder as you leaned against him, your whole body pressed against his.

It was hard to remember why he couldn’t just wrap his arm around your shoulder and pull you closer, hard to remember why he couldn’t pull you onto his lap and pepper kisses along your neck.

He was seconds away from reaching out to touch you when he glanced across the table and saw Cody, a knowing, sad look on his face and Rex could only shake his head, not letting the harsh reminder that he couldn’t have you ruin his night.

You stayed where you were for hours, pressed against Rex and laughing into his chest as you drank more drinks. It wasn’t long from sunrise when you turned further into Rex’s chest, eyes growing tired and you let the fall closed, wrapping an arm across Rex’s waist and feeling him relax in your hold.

Rex didn’t want to move you, here you were cuddling him but he knew he couldn’t let you. Just a small taste was enough to ruin him. So with a heavy heart he shook you gently, watching as you frowned and tried to bury yourself further into him. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched you pry your eyes open to glare at him.

“Let me take you back to the Temple.” Rex said softly, leaning down slightly so only you could hear him.

“You don’t have to.” You tried to insist but Rex wasn’t having it, Jedi or not there was no way he was letting you make your way back to the Temple alone.

“Come on, General.” He grinned at you, sliding out of the booth and holding a hand out for you. “Let’s get you home.”

You laughed softly as you slipped your hand into Rex’s, ignoring the loud cheers coming from behind you and waving goodbye to the other’s still left drinking.

The cold air hit you as soon as you stepped out of the cantina, a nice breeze cooling you down from the warmth of 79’s. You watched as Rex got the two of you a taxi and slid in next to him once more, not hesitating to plaster yourself against him considering this could be your only chance to be so close to him, knowing that you could both just blame it on the alcohol.

Rex spent most of the drive resisting the urge to wrap you in his arms, you made it look so easy each time you did it and Rex was growing annoyed with himself and his inability to just pull you closer.

By the time you pulled up to the Temple you weren’t ready to say goodnight to Rex but you knew there was nothing else you could do to stay in his company.

“I’m glad you came tonight…Y/N.” You couldn’t stop yourself from grinning ear to ear as Rex finally used your name, dismissing any titles and ranks between you. 

“I’m glad too.” You told him softly, taking a step towards him and wrapping your arms around his waist. “Thank you for making sure I did, I had a great time.”

Rex wrapped his arms around you easier than any other time, only hesitating for half a second before did, his chin resting on your head as he savoured the feeling of you against him whilst also cursing how easy you had made it seem to close the distance between the two of you. 

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” Rex asked once the two of you finally pulled away from each other and you nodded, smiling softly at him. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Rex.” You murmured, turning to the entrance of the Temple and only looking back before you entered, smiling as you saw Rex watching after you, making sure you were in safely before he left. 

“She’ll be back before you know it.” Fives assured him, nudging Rex’s shoulder as he sat down next to his brother.

“I should be with her.” Rex told him, tenser than he had been in a long time outside of a battle. 

It had been days since you’d left, Obi-Wan had asked for your assistance in an undercover mission and you had agreed. When you told Rex he felt his heart just about stop, a complete opposite reaction to what it usually had around you.

He hated that you were leaving the 501st, he hated that you were leaving him. Out on missions it was you and him, he watched you back and you watched his, if he wasn’t there anything could happen to you.

“She’ll be fine, you know Cody won’t let anything happen to your girl.” Echo said and both him and Fives took great delight in watching Rex’s head shoot up to look at him with wide eyes.

“She isn’t my girl.” Rex grumbled after a minute had passed and Echo and Fives scoffed causing Rex to glare at the pair.

“She’s as good as.” Fives smirked. “What’s stopping you from making a move?”

“I can’t.” Rex sighed, he wanted to, he really did. It was all he could think about some days, whenever you were close to him, whenever you wrapped your arms around him, whenever the two of you stayed up late talking about everything and nothing. All he wanted was you. “You know the rules.”

“Is she worth the risk to break them?” Echo asked him softly, the amusement leaving his eyes as he looked at Rex’s seriously.

“Of course she is.” Rex answered without a moment’s hesitation. “I’m just not sure I’m worth the risk.”

Neither Echo nor Fives said anything more on the topic, quickly changing the subject in an attempt to get that sad, broken look off Rex’s face. It didn’t matter that they both knew you were head over heels for Rex, it didn’t matter that they knew you’d risk everything in a heartbeat for him. It was something Rex needed to figure out for himself.

“She was supposed to be back two weeks ago, General Skywalker says it’s been complete radio silence and I can’t contact Cody.” Rex groaned, pacing the floor of the grounded ship.

“It’s an undercover mission, you know how unpredictable they are.” Jesse tried to reason with him but Rex was beyond that.

He was a mess, he hadn’t slept in days, all his dreams were haunted by images of what could have happened to you and he cursed General Kenobi for taking you from him, if something had happened to you he would never forgive himself. 

“The General’s back!” Fives shouted as he ran into the room, grinning at Rex who stopped in his tracks and practically broke his neck with how fast he turned to look at his brother. “Her, Kenobi and the 212th are outside.” 

Rex didn’t need to hear anymore, he was brushing past Fives, ignoring the laughter that faded as he headed towards the ship's exit, practically running off the ship in a desperate need to make sure you were alright.

Even though he was looking for you, you found him first, grinning from your place with Obi-Wan, Anakin and Cody over at Rex and breaking away from the group without a word. They all watched you make your way over to Rex, the man pausing once he saw you, his eyes scanning you up and down but you didn’t give him much of a chance to look as you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly.

Rex felt like he could breathe for the first time in days and didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, drawing you impossibly closer and assuring himself you were safe.

“Are you okay?” Rex murmured into your hair, “You were supposed to be back weeks ago, I was worried.”

“I’m fine.” You told him with a soft laugh, pulling away only far enough so you could look up at him, smiling brightly at him as you watched him take in your features and see for himself that you really were fine. “We ran into a few problems but everything’s fine, we got the information we needed.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Rex told you honestly and you smiled softly up at him, Rex smiling back down at you and both of you couldn’t help but think how easy it would be to close the gap between you.

For now though it didn’t matter, you were both content with this, simply holding each other, knowing that you had each other. 

Rex could see it happen. 

It was like a scene playing out before his eyes, he was just a bystander that couldn’t interfere. He tried to, stars had he tried. He ran until his sides ached and kept running but it was too late.

You were gone. The Separatist leader had taken you and Rex hadn’t been able to stop it. The only thing Rex knew was that he was made to protect you, not because you were his General, not because of his loyalties to the Republic but because he loved you.

He loved you and he never told you and now you were gone. 

General Skywalker was furious. The 501st were devastated but no one more than Rex felt your loss. 

He was heartbroken, he had to get you back and yet all the Council wanted to do was talk. Rex was ready to leave, he would find you on his own. There was no time for meetings behind closed doors, not when with each second that passed you got further and further away from him.

Days had passed with no action and Rex had had enough. The ship was grounded and he had no trouble sneaking away, ready to steal a smaller ship and head off to find you, though he had no real destination in mind, he would search the whole galaxy just to find you.

“Rex.” Anakin called just as he was about to climb into a ship.

Rex froze, torn between facing his General and carrying on ahead. He was about to take another step forward when Anakin spoke again.

“I’m coming with you.” At that Rex did turn around, seeing Anakin with a determined look on his face, lightsaber clutched in his hand as he walked over to the ship. “The Council has no immediate plans to help, we’re on our own.”

“We’ll find her, Sir.” Rex said firmly because there was no other option.

It had been three weeks since you’d been taken and Rex was losing his mind. 

Anakin ignored calls from the Council, only answering them if they came from Obi-Wan who provided as much information as he could about possible locations you could be but other than that there was nothing.

Each place they’d searched ended with Rex breaking more and more, if they didn’t find you soon there would be nothing left of him to break. He slept very little and ate even less, his mind on a constant loop of all the terrible things that could be happening to you.

It was Obi-Wan who had suggested visiting Mevara, a planet on the outer rim known for its Separatist activity. Rex couldn’t set himself up for another failure and yet he still felt a small glimmer of hope that he knew would surely be crushed.

They had searched for hours before Anakin froze, Rex just narrowly avoided going into the back of him as he stared at the General in confusion. 

“Sir?” He finally asked after Anakin had been still for nearly a minute, a frown on his face before he snapped back to himself.

“She’s here.” Anakin told him and Rex felt his heart stop as Anakin turned to face him.

“You’re sure, Sir?” Rex whispered, wide, hope filled eyes staring into Anakin’s.

“She’s here, Rex.” Anakin repeated and that was all Rex needed. 

He let Anakin lead the way, the pair of them sneaking into one of the many Separatist bases on the planet and Anakin used the Force to find you, though their search was interrupted by battle droids.

Anakin called over to Rex where you were and Rex didn’t hesitate to fight his way through the droids, not feeling bad as he left Anakin behind to deal with the worst of them. He ran as fast as he could and came to the room Anakin had said, holding his breath before opening the door.

You were being held up by a containment field and after a quick scan of the room Rex ran over and made quick work of getting you down. He caught you by your arms and you let out a sob as you looked up at him. 

“You came.” You whispered, the words catching in your throat from screaming and lack of water.

Rex couldn’t stop himself, for the first time since he’d met you he was the first to pull you into his arms.

You were exhausted, completely drained and your whole body ached in a way that words couldn’t even begin to describe. So when Rex pulled you into a tight hug, his fingertips buried in your sides and his head pressed into your hair, you should have cried out in pain, should have winced and pushed him away. 

Instead when he wrapped you up tightly in his arms you couldn’t move for a second, frozen at the contact because it had been so long since somebody’s touch had been kind and then you let out a shuddering breath, tears finally coming to your eyes and flooding down your face uncontrollably. It was only then you moved, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his neck, soaking his skin with your tears but Rex didn’t care. 

Rex held you close, hearing Anakin come to a stop in the doorway but he didn’t care, he had finally gotten you back and nothing was going to stop him from holding you, no amount of rules or consequences were enough to drag him from you.

He held you tightly, grounding and comforting you like you’d done with him so many times and you melted against him, the aches and sores easier to ignore in Rex’s arms and it was so easy to let yourself fall apart in them. 

“You’re okay, you’re okay mesh’la, I got you, you're alright.” Rex kept murmuring into your hair, the words washing over you, soothing you completely as you let yourself be held. “You’re alright, love, that’s it, I’ve got you.”

“Thank you for coming.” You whispered into his neck and Rex felt his heart break.

“I’ll always come for you, cyar’ika, always.” Rex promised as he placed a kiss to the top of your hair, the two of you finally back in each other’s arms, exactly where you were meant to be.

Captain Rex Taglist (Click the link in my bio to add yourself!) - 

@punkpirate82, @top1bbgloak, @lillianacristina, @ughhhhfoff, @ur6annevasion, @callsign-jinx

Thank you so much for reading!❤️

[lyonnerileyauthor]

the definitive Trollkin Lovers reading order

this is a joke because you can read them in any order you want, since they're all standalones, BUT...

if you read 'em in this order, there are some fun story bonuses!

this book follows a wee redheaded lass who will boot you over the head and steal your shit, and a vulgar troll who really wants to fuck her. there's a war going on and it's gonna get bloody. there may be a sex scene on a battlefield.

(PS -- this is the one that's free right now.)

so you thought Raz'jin's best friend, Blizzek, was dead?? HO HO HO, were you wrong! in this one, he's rescued by a kind healer woman, and falls pitifully in love with her. then, of course, he makes some rather grievous errors. plus, our heroes from book 1 make a little cameo!

oh, poor Lieutenant Agkar, who fell for a human lady in the last book and got his heart broken. but that's okay! now he has a boss he hates and also he's obsessed with her, and maybe wants to fuck her, and hell, maybe she wants to fuck him, too, but they're gonna fight about it first!!

"really? you wrote a book about that doofy fucking troll from the bar?" yes. yes I did. he's wonderful when he's not working for the criminal underground. in fact, he's kind of a knight in shining armor for his little lady, who got stolen from her home across the sea. bonus points for fucking in an ancient, magical ruin.

this lil beaut stands by itself, though it does have a cameo from Fiery Mean Redhead from book 1! this is a great place to hop into the series if you like threesomes, and it's got that nitty-gritty backdrop of war going on. also, they fuck in the first chapter.

wait, another minor character from book 3 gets his own book? that's fucking RIGHT, because Corporal Jar'kel says some really wise shit at the end and we all walked away going, when's he going to get his story?? well. he gets it. right here. he's grumpy, she's maybe also grumpy, and they have to pretend to be mates to live. (also, there's a fun cameo from a book 4 character in here!)

"finally," you say. "you're getting around to telling Graz's story??" I know, I know, my mans has been waiting a long time for his moment in the sun. I won't spoil too much, but he's not the only one obsessed with magic and searching for answers!

If you wanna know more about my Trollkin Lovers series, go here.

[strawberrystepmom]

yami x f!noble reader. post coitus walk down a strange memory lane. suggestive, sex happened. | divider by @cafekitsune, wc 1.3k

“Why do you have that?”

Yami looks up at you from the end of the bed, his arm dangling over the side while he finishes pulling it all the way up. 

“This?” 

He holds up the small linen square he was working on unfolding into a larger square and you nod. 

Furrowing his brows, he shrugs. “Because you gave it to me…?”

The hesitation in his voice brings a small, soft smile to your face. You reach for the handkerchief and he hands it over without so much as a grumble, placing it gently in the center of your palm just as you did for him the day it became his. There would never be any denying this once belonged to you considering your initials and hand embroidery are slightly unraveled yet still stitched in the corner of the fabric. 

More than five years ago, a fresh faced newly minted noblewoman boldly pressed her favor into his hand. He was merely a Magic Knight back then, not yet designated with the honor of Captain. There’s no telling, then or now, what you were attempting to achieve with the move other than to get under his skin but it worked well enough that he has kept the reminder of you in his pocket ever since. 

For a moment, Yami debates asking for it back, simply to keep a piece of something that belongs to him and only him. A secret token of affection he should have parted with but has never quite found himself able to. It has been on battlefields with him. It has traveled deep in his pocket to neighboring countries and towns, up a lava filled mountain and back down. 

There’s history stored in the tidy stitches, even if you weren’t there to see it happen. And there is no longer any way to effectively hide what the insinuation meant to him. 

“Are you satisfied that it’s the genuine article now, your highness?” 

You glance up from the fabric in your hands and toward him, the pinched skin between his brows deepening with every passing second. The incorrect title is enough to indicate that you’ve managed to strike a nerve and the look on his face only solidifies it. Giggling, you lean in and press it into his hand just as you did years ago. 

“Passes my inspection although I wish I could go back and tell the younger me that her stitching needs work.” 

Your thumb lingers against the center of his palm. Yami sighs, aware that a barrage of questions is coming judging solely from the look on your face - those twinkling eyes and that deceptively innocent smirk.

“You’re under no obligation to answer me of course, but if I may, how have you managed to keep something so delicate intact for so long? I didn’t exactly put my best effort into making it a piece to be kept forever.”

Chuckling, he leans back down across the bed on his side. His bare chest rises and falls with each breath he takes, dark strands falling over his face messily. You reach out and push the hair away, exposing gray eyes and sharpened features, the same ones you first found yourself drawn to all those years ago, only slightly different. The breath in his chest stills for a moment when you glance down at him, cheek pressed against your knees which are quilt covered and pulled against your chest.

“Everything alright down there, Captain?”

When the two of you first started sleeping together he confidently assumed he could keep the whole ‘I remember you very fondly from every conversation we’ve ever had, no matter how brief’ situation under wraps. You’ve spent years passing by one another, two ships off to other destinations but sharing the water for enough time to get used to the weather. Only the fortuitous hand of fate can explain how the two of you ended up in the same tavern, on the same night, sending you both on a trail that has led here. 

Shaking his head, he smiles up at you, propping his head up with his fist. “Yup.” Popping the ‘p’ sound, he exhales a heavy sigh. 

What can he say that won’t make him sound either creepy or foolish? It’s not like he has spent years pining over you, he’s too busy for something as nonsensical as that, but he’d be lying if he were to insinuate it has been sitting forgotten in his pocket. There’s a blood stain on the upper left corner from when he wiped his nose with it after a fierce competitor got the best of him up close. It’s slightly discolored, off-white from years of rubbing against the dark leather of his pants. 

“I’ve never seen any reason to get rid of a gift someone else has given me, why would this be any different? Besides, sometimes a man just wants something that reminds him of home when he’s on the road.” 

Smirking, you gradually slide your legs beneath the covers and join him in lying down. Shifting to your side, you keep your hand extended to finger comb his hair back from his face.

“So you’re saying I make you think of home?”

Sukehiro is no stranger to women or their wiles and charms but you have always been somewhat unique compared to your peers. Bolder than most women he’s ever met, the perfect mixture of sharp tongued and soft hearted. Memorable and not just for the admirable beauty that has won you suitors and friends, allies and enemies alike. 

He harrumphs. You giggle in the way that makes the bridge of your nose scrunch, irresistible to a man that hasn’t been able to find a place to store all of that fondness outside of his pants pocket. Reaching toward you, he squeezes your nose gently which makes you laugh and distracts you long enough he doesn’t have to dignify your question with a response. 

Feelings are tricky, after all. It’s why he stays away from them.

“Are you gonna let me clean you up or not?” He asks, remembering why he pulled the kerchief from his pocket to start with. You shimmy closer to him, leaning to press the tip of your nose against his. “I don’t know. Are you going to answer my question or not?”

He peels the quilt back from your body with a smirk, ignoring you completely. You make no moves to actually prevent him from doing so, even staying still and patient when he gently pulls your thighs apart. The handkerchief makes its way between your legs, carefully and tenderly sopping up the mess of your release and his that has left your folds glossy and sticky. 

“Yeah, you do remind me of home. That there’s something worth protecting around here, at the very least.” 

The honesty pierces you and the comfortable quiet in one well aimed shot. An unexpected and slightly awkward laugh leaves you, mouth hanging open and shutting as quickly as possible, visibly taken aback. The corners of your lips twitch and your mind races, struggling to find the right thing to say which is almost unheard of for you. 

“All done.” 

Yami holds out the damp and sticky cloth for your review. Giggling, you scrunch your nose again. He laughs while tossing it on the floor with his clothes, making a mental note to wash it so he doesn’t pull it out of his pocket still crusty. Not that it would be the first time.

He rolls over onto his back, lying down by your side once again. Your hand easily finds its natural home in the strands of hair in front of his face, petting them backward.

“I’m relieved you kept it.” You finally admit, now that you can look into his eyes and say it. “I always wondered what you thought of me doing it in the first place.”

Sighing, he turns his head fully to look at you.

“I’ve never been one to turn down a free gift from a pretty girl. My manners aren’t that bad.”

Tugging on the strands of his hair between your fingers, you laugh and shake your head.

“Go to bed, Yami.” 

He leans in and smiles against your mouth, kissing you.

“After you.”

[meiliarotten]

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time Three: Return of the Kink

Day 14: Correction (Spanking)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Spy x Gender Neutral!Reader

Summary: Your battlefield shenanigans are getting out of hand, and Spy decides to do something about it.

Tags: Spanking, Dom/Sub, bratty reader, masochism, hair pulling, edging, teasing, aftercare

Word Count: 3.4k

The Masterlist

“So… you’ve been chain smoking ever since we got off the battlefield. And that was an hour ago.”

Spy barely acknowledged you, simply proving your point by lighting a fresh cigarette with the embers of the last one. You sat uncomfortably in a chair across from him, a chess set laying untouched between the two of you. “I mean, I know this is called a smoking room for a reason, but this,” you gestured towards the cloud of wispy gray smoke that had formed above the two of you, “Is a bit much, don’t you think?”

Honestly, if it weren’t for the effects of the Medigun you were certain Spy would have literally every kind of respiratory illness by now. All of the lung cancer, all of the emphysema. All of it.

Another moment of silence stretched out for an eternity before you let out an annoyed huff. Getting up from your chair, you walked right over to Spy, leaning against the arm of his chair and fixing him with the sweetest expression you could muster. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Spy sighed, a cloud of smoke passing his lips before he responded, still refusing to look at you. “You really are dense sometimes, my dear.”

“Damn. Alright then,” you said, put off by his obtuse, and frankly, insulting response. You moved to return to your own seat but Spy grabbed your arm.

“Non, non! Come, sit.” You let him pull you into his lap. His tone sounded apologetic. You made yourself comfortable, straddling him. He snuffed out the cigarette in a nearby ashtray.

“So, what’s wrong?” you asked again, hoping for a more direct answer this time.

Spy took a deep breath. “Darling, you know I love you.”

“I am very lovable.”

“And you know that I will always be honest with you.”

“Oh no.” You recognized that tone and those words. What followed was usually some kind of critique, and what’s worse, it was almost always a valid critique- the worst kind of all.

Spy went on. “Which is why it is my responsibility to say that your battlefield performance today was, in a word, abysmal.”

“Ouch.” You pouted, batting your lashes at him. He remained unaffected by your antics, continuing with barely a pause.

“It was not just today, either. You have been inattentive, and more so, you’ve made yourself a distraction for me as well!”

“It’s just a bit of flirting. It’s fun!” You were actually a bit surprised at this. You had been under the assumption that Spy was a sucker for stolen kisses in concealed corners or subtle, yet tender touches between checkpoints.

“It is fun for you, but your ‘flirting’ has cost us several battles in the past month alone!” Spy knew he wasn’t completely innocent either. His responses only encouraged your behavior, but you were always the inviting factor, so it was only fair that you bared most of the blame.

“It’s not my fault you make backstabbing look so hot.” You pouted, arms crossed indignantly. “Besides, I thought you liked having my eyes on you.”

Spy took a deep breath, trying to be patient with you, no matter how difficult you were making that endeavor. “Even when you are being insolent, you somehow manage to be charming,” he admitted. “But even so, I can not allow myself to become infatuated with your faults.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you asked.

“Darling, it is our duty as lovers to bring out the best in each other, and sometimes that involves a bit of correction.”

Correction? Seriously? You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “What are you going to do, spank me?” Spy paused. He paused for a very long time. “Spy?”

“Perhaps I should.”

“What? Spy, I was joking! You’re actually considering it?” you said, stammering.

“Oh no, my dear, I’m not considering it. I have already decided.” He said, giving you a stern look that made you want to shrink away into the nearest wall. “Bend over my desk.”

You didn’t get a chance to protest before he pushed you off his lap. You rushed to get back on your feet, stumbling slightly. “Spy, what the hell are you doing?” you asked, glancing at the desk in disbelief.

“I believe I was quite clear.”

“You can’t be serious!” you said, exasperated and baffled by the situation that was unfolding before you.

Spy took you by the chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “You are being a petulant little brat.”

You bristled. “I am not!” Ironically, that may have been the most ‘bratty’ thing you could have said at the moment.

The two of you stared at each other for a while, stuck in a kind of stand off before Spy sighed and his gaze softened. “Are you truly uncomfortable with this, darling?” he asked. “I won’t do anything to you that you do not agree to.”

“No, it’s not like I’m scared of a little pain.” You thought it over for a moment. Once your initial shock had been pushed aside, it didn’t really seem all that bad. “It’s just kind of humiliating.”

“Of course. Punishment must by necessity be at least a little unpleasant.”

Well, you supposed that made sense, and even you had to admit that some of your actions had cost you some pretty vital battles over the past few days. Everyone had been in a less than pleasant mood because of it, and if there was a chance this unconventional method of ‘correction’ could end your team’s streak of losses, then it was worth a shot. A few swats to your ass couldn’t be that difficult to endure, right?

“I’ll do it, if it’ll make you feel like you’ve ‘fulfilled your duty as a lover,’ or whatever,” you said, struggling not to roll your eyes as you quoted his own words back at him. You turned, bending over the desk and shifting your weight side to side. You craned your neck to shoot him a wicked smile. “You can even enjoy the view while your at it-”

The first spank came down hard before you could finish your sentence. You cut yourself off with a shout, covering your mouth the moment the sound escaped you. Your face flushed, embarrassed at how strongly you had reacted. Spy grinned, however his tone remained even and calm, almost nonchalant.

“I believe ten swats will be sufficient, assuming we don’t have to start over.” Before you could ask what exactly would require him to start over, a second spank made you jump. Instinctively, you tried to squirm away from the impact. Spy’s other hand immediately pressed down on the small of your back, keeping you in place. “Stay still, darling. Reste calme. This will be easier if you obey.”

“Fuck, this is ridiculous,” you said, trying to distract yourself by seeing the humor in this situation. Spy delivered a third spank without hesitation. You were more prepared for it this time, biting your lip hard to keep from crying out again.

“Perhaps I need to curb that snarky mouth of yours as well,” he said, clearly unamused with your commentary. Having not learned your lesson, you opened your mouth to speak once again, only for your words to turn into a harsh moan as a fourth swat rained down on you. A fifth left you gripping the edges of the desk.

“That’s it, hold on if you must. You’re taking this quite well for your first time receiving such punishment.” That was the first bit of praise Spy had offered you since starting this whole ordeal. “We’re halfway done now.”

“Only half?” Your voice trembled. You weren’t sure why this was affecting you so much. It hurt, yes, but you had endured pain far worse. This should not have been making you shudder and whine. It was only upon the sixth swat that you found yourself squeezing your thighs together, your eyes going wide as you finally recognized that familiar feeling blossoming between your hips.

On the seventh, you began to pray that Spy would interpret your moans as sounds of pain, because there was no holding them back anymore. You pressed your forehead against the desk, clamping your lower lip between your teeth in a feeble attempt to quiet yourself. That only resulted in your moans turning into shaky whimpers as you rode out the final moments of your punishment.

There was no denying that you were quite disappointed when it ended. You stayed bent over the desk for a while, hiding your bereft expression from view. Spy’s hand still rested on the small of your back, a small assurance that he was still there. He stayed quiet, letting you sit up at your own pace. When you did finally get up your eyes remained glued to the desk for a while as you tried to quell your arousal.

“Look at me.” Spy’s words were soft, but stern. Reluctantly, you turned to face him, hoping against hope that your blush had calmed down, even though the heat in your cheeks proved otherwise. You were met with a surprisingly tender smile and Spy reached out to brush his thumb over your chin. “You did wonderfully, my darling. Come, let me kiss you.”

Now that was an order you were eager to follow. You pressed your lips to his, gripping the lapels of his suit, pulling him close. Your bodies were flush against each other, but it still didn’t feel close enough. You wanted him inside you, you wanted it so badly it hurt- or maybe that was just the lingering sting from your punishment. Whatever it was, it caused tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. When you finally broke for air, your gasp came out as more of a sob that you tried and failed to stifle.

“It’s alright, don’t hold back,” Spy whispered, moving from your lips to kiss your cheek, wiping a tear away with his thumb. “Crying is natural after such an experience.”

You sniffed, trying to keep some composure even as tears fell and dotted the expensive fabric of Spy’s suit. He took off the jacket, letting it drape off the edge of a nearby chair. You weren’t sure why, but some strange combination between the lingering sting of the spanks and the sight of Spy removing his clothing sparked something in you. Without thinking, you began to tug at the buttons of his undershirt.

Spy made a soft sound of surprise, but you kissed him before he could say another word. You didn’t want any interruptions, not yet. Still, you eventually had to draw back for air. Spy chuckled as you unfastened the final button, splaying your hands over his chest. “I’m starting to think this was a bit too enjoyable for you, mon amour.” You shushed him, raking your nailed down his chest. He gasped, but quickly regained his composure. “I wasn’t aware I had a masochist on my hands. I would have chosen a different method of punishment otherwise-”

You kissed him hard, shutting him up once again. Clumsily, you began to pull at his belt and slacks. You were working blindly, but slowly, the belt came loose. Spy jerked against you roughly when you finally wrapped a hand around his cock. You weren’t gentle, pumping him fast and feeling him harden in your grasp. He moaned against your mouth and you felt a hint of pride at getting such a reaction out of him, no matter how brief. Your little power trip wasn’t going to last long, though.

Gloved fingers tangled into your hair. You hummed, enjoying the gentle touch on your scalp, until Spy suddenly tightened his grip and pulled hard. Your head tilted back and you winced.

“Ouch! God, what was that for?” you asked, glaring at him and rubbing the back of your head.

“I was just reminding you who is in charge here.” Without another word, Spy leaned in to kiss your now exposed neck. You shivered, feeling him suck the skin hard before pressing his lips tenderly against the new red mark. He was going to leave bruises, you were certain of it.

With a huff, you pulled away, feeling his hold on your hair loosen enough for you to move. “Fine,” you said, turning around to face the desk again. You leaned over, bracing yourself on your elbows and swaying your hips subtly. “Go on, take charge, Sir.”

Spy laughed, but you also caught the slightest hitch in his breath. You knew he loved it when you referred to him with such authority. A well placed ‘Yes sir’ was a weakness of his that you often took advantage of. Your pants and underwear were quickly yanked down, leaving your lower half exposed. You held back a whimper as Spy began to caress your still very sore ass.

“Such a lovely red,” he said, speaking as if he was admiring a work of art. You had no doubt the red he spoke of was akin to the hue adorning your face as well. You leaned your forehead on the desk, hoping the coolness of the wood would ease the flush.

It was only when you felt a finger prodding at you that you lifted your head. Your eyes went wide and you almost laughed when you realized the finger was noticeably slick. “What the hell?” you said, realizing what the substance was. “Do you just happen to carry lube on you at all times?”

Your question was me with a soft chuckle. Spy leaned over, placing the bottle right next to you upon the desk. Sure enough, it was small enough to easily fit within the pockets of his suit jacket. “With a lover as ravenous as you, one must be prepared.” His touch left you and you heard him moan as he slickened his cock, pumping it a few times before lining up to your entrance. You tried to grind against him, but he pulled away with a huff. “Control yourself, darling.”

He pushed in at a painfully slow pace. When he finally hilted inside you he stopped, holding himself there. His hands wandered from your hips up to your waist. You squirmed and whined. “Come on, move! Move, please!” The grip on your waist tightened, and you went quiet.

“This is the kind of behavior that we just dealt with, my dear. I won’t say it again- be patient.” You scowled, mostly because you knew he was right. He was giving you time to adjust. The last thing you needed was to hurt yourself. That was a type of injury you most certainly wouldn’t want to explain to Medic.

So, you muffled your complaints, biting your knuckles until you felt Spy begin to reward your display of restraint. His hands tightened around your waist again, but not in warning. It turned out you just made for great leverage as he began to thrust faster. “Fuck,” you gasped, feeling his hips smack against your ass.

“You’re still sensitive.” Spy ground his hips against you, making you whimper. “But you enjoy how it feels, don’t you? The pain mingled with the pleasure. You enjoyed being spanked.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a scream when another swat suddenly came down on your ass. You clamped your hands over your mouth in shock, certain that if anyone was nearby, perhaps even down the hall outside the smoking room, they would have heard you.

“Oh my, who knew you could make a sound like that?” Spy said. You could practically hear the smirk on his face from the way he spoke. “My very own bratty little masochist. I should have known you would like this.”

He was going faster. You weren’t even sure when he began to speed up, or when you had laid out flat against the desk. At some point your arms had buckled under you, leaving your cheek pressed against the hardwood. You hoped you weren’t drooling too much. That would be even more embarrassing than the high pitched shrieks that followed every fresh swat that Spy delivered. It was so much more intense without the barrier of clothing in the way.

After a while, even the embarrassment began to fade. You felt high on the pleasure, high on the pain. You weren’t sure which you liked better. Perhaps it was the combination of the two contrasting sensations that created this unique, foggy, dream-like state you found yourself in. You never wanted to lose this feeling. Your whole body was beginning to feel hot, overwhelmingly hot, and a familiar, tight coiling in your stomach signaled that your climax was fast approaching. All good things must come to an end at some point.

You clawed uselessly at the desk, scrambling for purchase on anything within your reach until Spy’s hands clamped around your wrists, pinning them. “Try not to scratch up my desk, love.”

“Spy, I’m close!” You weren’t even sure if Spy would be able to understand you through your moans. “Fuck, I’m so close, please!”

“Do you think you deserve it?”

Spy’s response stumped you, and you began to stammer. “What? What do you mean?”

“You heard me, darling. I already warned you, I will not repeat myself.”

You shuddered. Spy’s pace had slowed again. He was keeping you right on the edge. Your body screamed for release, but even now, you knew it was a release that you hadn’t earned. “I don’t,” you sobbed. “I don’t deserve it, but I can be good! I’ll earn it, just please, please let me come, sir!” The words coming out of your mouth should have humiliated you, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was that promised blissful feeling that was being held just out of arm's reach, so close you could practically taste it.

“At least you are capable of honesty.” You barely noticed the tremble in Spy’s voice, the barest hint that he wouldn’t last much longer like this either. “Go on, you can stop holding back, mon ange.”

His words were like the pulling of a trigger. Your body shuddered beneath him. It took a moment for you to realize that elated, keening noise you heard was coming from your own throat. Spy’s grip held steadfast even as you strained against him, trying to squirm and writhe. Tears pricked at your eyes as your climax overwhelmed you. Your legs trembled, threatening to buckle as Spy continued to rut into your spent body without pause, chasing his own release. Mercifully, he finished soon after you, albeit much softer. He moaned against your ear, leaning his weight upon you for a few moments until you groaned, having been essentially squished against the hard surface of the desk.

“Ah, my apologies, love.” Spy got off of you, being exceedingly careful as he withdrew. You were trembling so much that he was certain you would collapse without his support. “Steady now,” he cautioned as you slowly sat up and took a few shaky steps away from the desk, leaning heavily on him.

“Fuck,” you sighed. “That was really good.”

Spy chuckled. You were never the most articulate person post-orgasm, but you were certainly the most honest. He pulled you in for a quick kiss, feeling your lips curve upward, smiling against him. “Darling, you enjoyed that far too much for it to be considered a proper punishment.”

Your face fell. “Oh. Do I need to have a ‘proper punishment’ now?”

Spy thought for a moment before coming to a decision. “Non. I believe a different method may improve your behavior much quicker.” He leaned in, his breath tickling your neck and sending a shiver down your spine. “If you promise to keep your focus in battle, I’ll fuck and spank you like that after every victory. Does that sound reasonable?”

You had to keep yourself from outright moaning at the very thought. A deep breath steadied your nerves just enough for you to respond with a nervous laugh. “Every night? I don’t know if I can manage that.” Oh, but you wanted to try. You very much wanted to try.

Spy smirked, reading you like a book. “Such an eager little thing. You will manage just fine.” He kissed your forehead before swatting your sore ass one last time, appreciating the way you yelped and practically jumped into his arms on instinct. “I have every confidence in you, petite fleur.”