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filmsmakkari · 6 months ago

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your highness

fred weasley x slytherin!reader

Summary: When Slytherin beats Gryffindor in the final quidditch match of the season, Fred Weasley decides to give the Slytherin princess a little reward

CW: NSFW, semi public sex(?), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, praising.

Author's Note- As usual, I had a black reader in mind, so (Y/N) is described as having braids, but that's the only physical description. Anyone can imagine themselves in this fic. Also emmm I have never written smut in my life saurrr... I hope this makes you horny and I'm sorry if it doesn't!

To say that (Y/N) (L/N) hated Fred Weasley would be an understatement.

The Princess of Slytherin was in the prefect’s restroom, trying to wash the red and gold dye out of her hair. The last quidditch game of the autumn term was the next day, and Fred fucking Weasley thought it would be funny to make a mockery of the Slytherin team captain by having Peeves throw ink at her as she tried to run down the moving staircases.

“That bloody…” she muttered as she roughly scrubbed her scalp. She’d been at it for what felt like hours when the dye finally washed away, and the raven-winged color of her long braids was finally visible again.

Enraged, (Y/N) stomped out of the bathroom, envisioning ways to get her revenge. In her anger and fantasies of all the means of torture she could inflict upon the irritating prankster, she was barely aware of her feet carrying her down to the ever-calming bioluminescence of the Slytherin common room. She waved her wand violently, blowing around a stack of papers and knocking over a desk, catching the attention of Blaise Zabini.

The boy seemed slightly frightened as he said, “Hey (Y/N/N), you alright?”

(Y/N) huffed with irritation. “Oh, I’m more than alright. I’m ready to knock Weasley off his bloody broom.”

The Great Hall was alive with conversation. Some students excitedly cast charms, creating fireworks with their house colors and animals, while others feasted on fruits and vegetables in preparation for the big match. Slytherin vs. Gryffindor games were always the most anticipated. The extreme disdain between the two teams brought out the absolute best in them as players. Even if it was occasionally violent, it made for a great game.

Fred and George Weasley sauntered into the hall with the typical swagger of Gryffindors, scanning the tables and admiring the displays from the students. As Fred eyed the Slytherin table, his gaze fell upon her. There in her quidditch sweater, brown knee-high boots, and a horribly tempting skirt, the Slytherin Princess, who’d earned her title by getting the best grades in her house, being captain of the quidditch team, and being so ridiculously beautiful that even the proudest Gryffindors tried their luck with her, was sitting on the table, locked in conversation with Blaise Zabini and Emma Vanity- the Slytherin chasers.

“Discussing a new and improved strategy for the pitch?” Fred asked, approaching her. “I might as well tell you now, you’re wasting your time.”

(Y/N) turned to him with an eye roll. “Keep taunting me, Weasel. It’s the most satisfaction you’ll get today.”

“Keep dreaming. Tell me, how’d you like my little gift yesterday?” Fred asked, resting his hands on the table and leaning close to her face.

(Y/N) hummed. “To be honest I’d expected more from you, beater. You couldn’t even do the job yourself. That scared of little old me?”

“You wish. You’ll see out there today. Tell you what. If you win, which you won’t, I’ll reward you,” Fred smirked.

“Please, what could you possibly have that I want?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Too bad you’ll never find out.” Fred winked and walked over to the Gryffindor table, filling (Y/N) with so much irritation that it made her face hot.

Fred Weasley was eating his words.

The match was over before it began, the Slytherin players flying like bullets, (Y/N) ’s strategy working to absolute perfection, giving (Y/N) the perfect opportunity to catch the snitch without hesitation, winning the last game of the season.

The after-party was a blur of green and silver, fireworks, and cheering. One second (Y/N) was being hoisted up in the air by her teammates while they chanted her name; the next, she was playing games with giggle juice and fire whisky with her classmates. The snake lair was on fire with passion and excitement. While (Y/N) was reveling in it all, she had another celebration in mind. While her friends chanted so loud that the paintings were all forced to cover their ears, (Y/N) quickly slipped out of the common room and skipped happily up the stairs with a clear destination in mind.

As the sleeping form of the fat lady came into view, (Y/N) suddenly realized she had no actual plan. She couldn’t get into the Gryffindor common room, and even if she could, what would she do? Find Weasley in his dorm room and slap him? Cast a spell turning all the furniture silver and green to boast Slytherin pride? Steal Fred’s clothes while he was in the shower and- oh. Somewhat embarrassed at how eager she’d been to go to the Gryffindor common room and at how her thoughts kept wandering back to Fred, (Y/N) quickly turned around and began to go back to her dorm but was quickly stopped in her tracks.

Standing before her was the very person who’d been nagging at her thoughts all night. There was Fred Weasley, with dripping wet red hair and no shirt, looking down on her with irritation and amusement.

“Well well,” he said tauntingly, stepping closer and closer to her until her back was pressed against the wall. “Just what is the snake princess doing so close to the lion’s den? Came here to gloat?” Heat was radiating off of him. He was angry about the match.

(Y/N) swallowed, suddenly nervous, her usual Slytherin pride and confidence nowhere to be found. “As a matter of fact, Weaselbee, I’m here to see you. I told you I’d win, I’m here to claim my reward.”

Fred raised an eyebrow at this. He walked over to the fat lady, knocking on the portrait softly. The fat lady awoke with a jump, giving Fred a frustrated glare. “Sorry about this,” said Fred. “Iced Mice.” The fat lady hesitated. “And just what are you doing bringing her in here?”

(Y/N)’ s bite finally returned as she spoke, “I can show you better than I can tell you. How about a charm for taking the tongues of bad singers?” Fred chuckled at that.

“Why, I never!” said the fat lady as she finally swung open the door.

Fred took hold of (Y/N) ’s hand as he walked in, dragging her behind him.

(Y/N)’ s words were full of venom as she whisper-shouted, “Just what do you think you’re doing, you slimy-”

“Just be quiet for once, princess.”

Indignation swelled in (Y/N) ’s chest, but she obeyed. Though she toothlessly fought back, attempting every now and then to snatch her arm away from him, deep down, she wanted to see where this would go.

Fred dragged her to a dark corner, taking her by her hips and lifting her onto a desk.

“What the hell are you doing?” (Y/N) asked with a furious look, but there was no bite behind the glare. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was afraid he’d hear it.

“You came for your reward, didn’t you? You were so desperate for it that you were willing to cheat during the match,” he said, moving her hair and leaning into her ear.

(Y/N) shuddered at the closeness before pushing him away. “I didn’t cheat, Weasley, the hell are you talking about?”

Fred hummed, smoking at her and placing his arms on either side of her, caging her in.

(Y/N) scoffed. “This is ridiculous, I can’t believe I wasted my time coming here. Have a nice life carrot top.”

(Y/N) pushed him again, hopping off the desk and starting to walk away from him, but Fred quickly grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back into him and placing a wet, passionate kiss on her lips. (Y/N)’ s eyes widened in shock as Fred Weasley, the person she hated most since first year, slipped his tongue into her mouth and lifted her back onto the desk. Shocked and confused, she pushed him away a third time.

Fred looked deeply into her eyes, a tendril of red hair hanging over his eyes, making him impossibly more attractive. “Oh c’mon, love, don’t act like you don’t want it too. Like you haven’t wanted it since fourth year when you walked in on me showering after the quidditch cup.”

(Y/N)’s face got hot at the memory. “I hate you. You hate me. I’m the “princess of Slytherin,” remember?”

“Well then, your highness, allow me to serve you,” said Fred, dropping to his knees.

“What are you doing?” (Y/N) asked, her voice shaking as Fred ran his hands up and down her thighs, barely past her skirt. The tight little green dress and those white knee-high socks she was wearing had been driving him crazy since he first saw them, and he wanted nothing more than to see what was hidden underneath them.

“I’m rewarding you, even if you did cheat like a naughty little serpent, somehow I feel like this will be just as much as a reward for me.” He spread her legs wide, getting in between them and slowly peeling back her skirt.

(Y/N) breathed in sharply. “You have tormented me for six years, and now you expect me to let you use me to get off?’

“‘M sorry,” said Fred, kissing her thigh softly. (Y/N) shuddered. Fred kissed his way up to her sopping wet heat, muttering “I’m sorries” between every kiss. He finally made his way to her lacy undergarment, placing a soft kiss there. “You’re so wet, darling,” he said, popping his head out and looking at her, “It seems like you’ve already forgiven me.”

“In your bloody dreams, Weasley,” (Y/N) said with an unconvincing scoff. “I’ll hate you until the day I die.”

Fred hummed before quickly dipping his head back between her thighs, sliding her panties to the side, and licking a long stripe through her slick.

(Y/N) let out a throaty moan at the sensation, gripping the desk tightly.

Fred chuckled against her, the vibrations making her breathe in deeply. “What was that about you hating me, love?” he asked.

“Shut up and get on with my reward, asshole.”

Fred smirked. “As you wish, your grace.”

Fred grabbed her thighs tightly and went to work, taking her clit into his mouth and sucking it like a starving man. (Y/N) moaned loudly before placing her hand over her mouth. Fred looked up at her, his sudden pause making her whimper. “No, no, no, darling. Don’t hide the noises.” He slowly pushed a single long finger inside her. “Let the whole school know.” Another finger. He looked into her eyes with a wicked smile. “Let them all hear how the snake princess let a lion make her scream.” He added two fingers that time and rapidly pumped in and out. And, just as he said she would, (Y/N) screamed. She went to cover her mouth again, but with his free hand, he took both of her wrists and held them in front of her. It burned, but it felt so good. (Y/N) began to move her hips slightly to increase the sensation, making Fred smile. “That’s it, beautiful, good girl. Good girl.” Fred spoke in a way that was almost patronizing. If she weren’t so close to the edge, she probably would have made some snarky remark, but (Y/N) couldn’t think straight as the pressure in her stomach was building up, and the Weasley boy was making her see stars. She let out another loud moan, throwing her head back as the pressure became unbearable.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” (Y/N) screamed as Fred’s fingers slammed into her g-spot, and she finally couldn’t take it anymore. (Y/N) let out a scream as she came, barely aware of anything around her. Her vision went blurry as the hot juices spilled out of her. Fred wasted no time re-attaching his mouth to her drenched cunt, licking up her juices until she was clean. “Mmm, sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Surprising for such a nasty girl,” Fred said, slapping her thigh, sliding her panties back over, and standing up.

He placed his arms on either side of her, staring at her intensely, his hair disheveled and her cum around his mouth. (Y/N) matched his gaze with equal intensity, her heart pounding, a million questions running through her head. After a few beats of silence, she finally spoke.

“I still hate you.”

Fred actually laughed at that, shaking his head before looking back at her. “Beat me again, princess, and I’ll give you a better reward then my fingers and my mouth,” he rasped into her ear before walking off to his dorm room, leaving her with her legs spread on a table of the Gryffindor common room.

“We’ll see how much you hate me then!”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #slytherin reader #fred weasley x yn #fred weasley x fem!reader #harry potter imagine #fred weasley #slytherin #gryffindor #zarina's stories 🫧𓇼

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ediewentmissing · 2 years ago

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angst and comfort :(

You jolt up from Eddie’s bed in a cold sweat. You feel gross. Your hands are clammy and your face is wet with tears. As you drift into proper consciousness, visions from your nightmare flicker through your mind; Eddie slowly levitating up and into the air while you’re frantically searching for his favourite mixtape, bawling your eyes out as his bones snap one by one and his body topples in a heap on the hardwood floor.

You start to crying again, sniffling and hiccuping. You go to recite music in your mind, lyrics one by one. Music is your main coping strategy, so this time when it can’t calm you down, you go to your only other source - your best source - of happiness: Eddie.  The problem was that Eddie just came home from a nine hour shift at the automotive, and he was exhausted. He went to bed almost immediately, throwing himself onto the sofa and drifting goff within minutes.

You didn’t want to wake him up.

You sobbed in bed for a while longer, slowly weighing the pros and cons of interrupting his well-deserved sleep.

Eventually, you told yourself, Fuck it, and got out of the blankets.

The springs groaned underneath you as you got up. It was only then that you realised how torn up you really were. The night air hit your body and you could feel the grogginess floating away, being replaced by sheer cold. You nervously shuffled your way to the living room, shivering a bit.

Eddie’s body lay peacefully on the sofa, sloppily covered by the worn-out blanket on top of him that you offered him before he retired for the night.

You stood nearby, watching his chest rise and fall and listening to his slightly heavy breathing. Although gazing at him was pleasantly calming at first, it soon brought back vivid flashes of the nightmare; screaming, shaking Eddie vigorously, trying desperately to get him to wake up, his empty eye sockets and bleeding face staring back at you. The thoughts make you choke down a sob and Eddie stirs.

“E-Eddie?” You hesitate, but finally being yourself to speak up. He stirs again. “Eddie?”

He hums in response, not recognising the anxiousness in your voice because he’s still half-asleep. You walk up to him, trembling from the cold and from fear and tap his head lightly. You sniffle and he opens his eyes to find you looking terrified. He blinks a couple times to get himself to awaken completely.

He sits up and beings you in for a hug, as you shed tears against his shirt, “Hey, hey, hey. Sh. It’s okay. ‘M here. I’ve gotcha, sweetheart.”

You sit down with him and bury your head deep in his chest, wanting to be held and wanting to feel his heart beat to confirm that he was well and truly alive.

He holds your head and runs his calloused fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp lightly with one hand and holding your lower back with the other. His body is warm. It’s like hugging a teddy bear. It feels perfect against your icy flesh.

He waits until you’ve settled down, your breathing was still hitching regularly, but the sobbing had stopped. He pulls you away from his chest so he can see your face, dotting kisses on your forehead and rubbing your arm.

“What happened?”

“Nightmare…” You pause, “again.” He pulls you in again and rests his chin on your head.

“S-Sorry.” You splutter, guilt suddenly striking you.

“No, no. Don’t be. Not your fault in the slightest.” His voice vibrates against you soothingly.

“Uh,” You look down, separating yourself from him, “Could you come and sleep with me in the bed?” And his big, comforting smile told you everything you needed to know.

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madwomansapologist · 1 year ago

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NFWMB | shan yu

Navigation | More Shan Yu | AO3

synopsis: After a tiring day, all you wanted was to sleep. To dream, to rest, until you were ready for another day. You weren't expecting for the turning your night would have.

warnings: fluff then hurt/comfort. chocking. stabbing. violence. torture. murder couple. in this house we hate the misogynist version of Shan Yu in Mulan (2020) yandere!shan yu. female!reader.

It's been a long day. A rough week. Alright, those past few months were complicated.

All you wanted was to sleep. Since you woke up, all your mind desired was to come back to the warmth of your bed. Truth be told, every person you talked to were nothing but a distraction from your tiredness. Travelling with a army isn't easy or comfortable, nor it's to have so many daily tasks.

You have knife combat training sessions at dawn. After that, you need to face the fact that you're still struggling with economics. Don't matter who's your teacher, it always takes longer for you to understand any subject of it. And all those weeks learning about strategy got you a permanent chair during generals meeting.

Even exausted, you did your best. But as soon as the troop's commander gave in to the argument of one of the generals, you understood that you reached your limit.

The perspective of finally doing what you wanted bad, which was to sleep the night away, touched your heart with a expanding peace. Your entire body was numb, nothing in it had enough strength to continue.

In front of your dresser, you struggled to undo your braid. The door creaked, and you didn't need to look to know who was approaching. Shan Yu smells like steel. Impossible not to recognize.

As Shan Yu got closer, you saw him on the mirror. And that ruthless man, a breathing promise of violence to anyone who dares stand on his way, smiled to you.

You let go of your hair, and transferred your attention to the rings adorning your fingers. "Care to help me?"

His cold, forever cold, fingers held the base of your neck. With a tender squeeze, Shan Yu's hands slid down to undo the braid. How can such a big man be so delicate? It will never stop surprising you. How the hand that cuts others is the same that strokes you.

"You honor me, my moon," Shan Yu kissed your scalp. He kept his face resting on you, just breathing in your essence. After a moment, he worked on the pins. Carefully, he took all of them from your head.

Meanwhile, you worked on taking off your earrings and necklace. Lighter than when you entered the carriage, you didn't even realize that you had melted against Shan Yu's touch. This was already a common occurrence. A touch with Shan Yu is never just a touch, it is always something closer to worship.

When Shan Yu first saw you, the end was soon. As he leave you behind, a sweet taste found a home on his tongue. A incessant desire that would never leave him. Now, when Shan Yu touches you, he holds you.

You held his hands, and pulled them towards your mouth. You kissed his knuckles, enjoying the way he too melts against you, and closed your eyes. Silence came, but quickly you decided to break it. "You have much to do?"

"Not until dawn," Shan Yu answered. "Are you going to bed already?"

You let go of his hands, nodding. Shan Yu rested his hands on your shoulders, and his long fingers slid across your collarbone. His affection is always like this, natural. Genuine. "Then can you help me with something?"

"Anything."

Looking into his falcon eyes, you smirked at his eagerness. "What do you think about exhausting me?"

Shan Yu's chuckle was just what you wanted to hear. His fingers tightened on your collarbone, his yellow eyes becoming sharper. "You little devilish thing," he whispered.

You laugh. "Thought I was your moon."

"You are everything," Shan Yu's fingers returned to the base of your neck. They slid through your hair, squeezing. The gesture caused the good kind of pain. "It all depends on your humor."

“Want to find out what my humor is for tonight?” You turned in your chair, now looking him in the face. Your fingers slid over the lace that kept your clothes attached to your body. "Or would you prefer to keep on debating?"

Shan Yu held your fingers, stopping you from continuing. "You're cold," he said. You agreed. "Let me light the fire. Can you wait, my devilish thing?"

And he's right. Not about the devilish part, but about the my. Shan Yu really owns you. Not because he's stronger than you or anything like that, but because everyday you can only chose to be his. The part of you that matters, maybe even the rest, they all belongs to him.

Still, you rolled your eyes. "I'm not sure if I can."

As soon as Shan Yu got out of the carriage to fetch firewood, you ran to the bathroom. Your insides feel all warm and hazy.

You spent a few seconds trying to get your hair to look right. At the same time as you wanted to see Shan Yu's reaction to entering the carriage to find you naked, you also wanted to feel his hands removing fabric by fabric from your body.

Maybe it took you a long time to decide on the second option, because you were approaching the bed when the door opened again. "It was only a joke," you said as you pulled the sheets off the bed. "You didn't need to run."

Shan Yu's silence wasn't something unusual, but as the seconds went furrowed brows replaced the smug smile on your face. Then it hits you. It didn't smell like him.

You were quick to pull the dagger from its hiding place, but so was the chinese soldier who charged at you. In a matter of seconds, your head hit the bedside table and hands clasped your neck.

But you weren't helplessness. As he pushed the air out of your lungs, you stabbed the figure above you. Warm blood gushed over you, but he didn't stop. And because the man didn't stop, neither did you.

The dagger continued to come in and out. Your arm burned, your fingers ache, your throat felt like it was being torn apart: you just kept going.

Until the weight above you disappeared.

For a while you were only able to cough. Holding your throat, as if your hands alone would be able to heal your pain, you struggled to breathe. Your head was spinning, and your body had never been so exhausted.

Then your hearing started working again. And as the shrill whistle faded, the dry sound dominated the place that was once so safe. And the sound, that raw sound, was of bones clashing.

Shan Yu's fists were raw. The skin was torn apart. And no matter how unrecognizable the face of the being that attacked you was, how much he bled and begged for mercy, Shan Yu continued to punch him again and again.

“Shan Yu…” you breathed. Tears ran down your face. "My sun..."

As Shan Yu looked at you, covered in blood and with colorless skin, he stopped.

He turned away from the soldier, and for a moment he was nothing more than a worried animal. His bloody hands held your face, and when you felt his touch... you broke down.

You didn't know what to expect, you couldn't think, you couldn't move. All you did was to sob, shaking in between his hands. You held him, your nails digging on the skin of his forearm, eyes unable to function.

When the soldier whimpered on the floor, you both looked at him. How was he still alive? You stabbed him endless times, Shan Yu beat him until all he could see was red. And he was still alive.

Shan Yu stroked your hair, and that made you look deep into his eyes. You saw a certainty, a determination that couldn't be stopped by anyone. Anyone but you.

"Would it warm you?" Shan Yu whispered to you. The world was reduced to you both. "If the world ended in flames, would it warm you?"

And you understood. As if you both were one. Because maybe you are. Your sun, his moon. Maybe you both are one, and maybe that's why you understood him so well.

"Do it," you told him. But you didn't need to. Shan Yu could see it in your eyes. He saw the moment you decided to agree. "Have your fun."

With a care that no one would expect from a man with bloody fists, Shan Yu carried you to the bed. Not caring about the blood, only about the fact that it wasn't yours, Shan Yu covered you. He kissed your forehead, your lips, your blood-stained hands.

From the ground, the man was lifted up by a Shan Yu burning with hatred. And instead of hurting him, killing him once and for all, Shan Yu dragged him to the healers.

The man will live. Not for long, but long enough. Enough for him to become an example. Enough for him to regret not killing himself when he had a chance.

This time you were the one watching. And Shan Yu does know how to make a show.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

#madwomansapologist #prisoner/bride au #shan yu scenario #shan yu #shan yu fanfiction #shan yu x reader #shan yu fanfic #shan yu mulan #shan yu fic #disney villains #disney classics #disney villain scenario #disney villain x reader #disney villain #mulan 1998

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jellyfishsthings · 10 months ago

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Warnings: this is going to be a multi part series and it's going to be angsty cause I am in my feels. Female reader, Padmé and Anakin were together but had a healthy break up, Jedi reader so forbidden love.

This story takes plays in Clone Wars yet many events have been changed (like the meeting of Ashoka and Anakin... don't worry the sibling energy is still there.)

series masterlist

Anakin and I don't talk about his confession and what happened on the ship. From the moment we landed we were swooped from meeting after meeting. Jedi councils and strategy meetings while reporting about our mission. And in the midst of it all, we haven't been able to spend time with each other or even see each other.

As I walk from one room to another, speed walking in the halls, I feel an arm grab me and direct me behind a huge pillar, letting my back hit the cold marble.

Anakin's body is flushed with mine as his head lowers, leaning in for a kiss. I draw my head back, resting my forehead against his. “Not here,” I whisper.

“Yes, here.” He whispers as his nose rubs mine as he leans down again for a kiss. Again I do not let him, because I know that one kiss will lead to another and eventually our cover will be blown. “I am sorry Ani, I have to go,” I tell him as I slightly push him off me. I regret the motion the moment I make it but I should head to what hopefully will be the last meeting of the day.

“I miss you,” he says as he tries to casually lean against the pillar he backed me up earlier, but misses as he should have been closer. He stumbles, as I chuckle at him and he simply fires me a cocky smile as he finally manages to complete his smooth pose. And says to me “I guess you could say that I fell for you” with a cheeky smile, as I walk off.

Truly the meeting was a boring mess and couldn't pass any faster. And when it finally did, I headed back to my quarters and promptly fell onto my bed as Artoo came closer.

“What shall I do, Artoo?”

A beeping sound came as the answer to the question.

“About Ani. Why does it have to be him?”

Beep beep bop

“Of course, I love him but …. Truth is I am scared of what will happen.” We both stay silent for a while. I break the comfortable silence first. “I keep seeing these…visions. Where Ani has turned to the dark side…”

Bop beep boop boop

“Yeah, you are right. Ani would never do that but it still worries me. Thank you, Artoo. You are a good listener. That's why you are my best friend.” I say to him as sleep finally takes over.

A few hours later I am woken up by strong arms wrapping around my midriff and a cold nose being buried at the crook of my neck. Still half asleep I turn around in his arms letting our limbs tangle.

“You shouldn't be here. Threepio is going to miss you.” I lightly whisper as my fingers tangle in his hair and I slightly graze his scalp with my nails. He lets out a breathy chuckle as he whispers in my skin. “I would rather be here. I think Threepio can manage.”

Sleep finally finds us in each other's embrace. And that is exactly how I wake up several hours later. The various rays of sunshine that enter the room make him look ethereal as the sun hits his face just right and the shade of his hair seems lighter.

“You are staring.” He says in a sleepy, heavy voice and he peeks through his left eye at me.

“Too bad. Because I am quite fond of it.”

“Oh really?” He whispers as he draws me closer. We bask in each other's comfort for a while until we have to get up and head for our posts but for now, we let ourselves live in the possibility of what every morning could be like.

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x you #star wars fanfiction #star wars #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader

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freakbabyy · 3 months ago

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Deception Chapter One

taglist: @tulipbite @rcarbo1

A/N: it's finally here teehee (as if i dont have ten chapters written out rn)

Word Count: 4091

Mood board | Prologue

“Alright ladies, form a single file line! When you get to the front of the line, you will present your letter of conscription. After you do that, you’ll be told what dorm room you’re staying in for the next six months,” The soldier up front’s grin widened even more at the next sentiment. “That is, if you survive them.”

The front of the line had about five different soldiers already in full uniform, each with a new recruit going over their paperwork. The line went surprisingly fast, until I was next. Taking a deep breath in and out, I tried my best to adjust the cloth around my breasts. I had tightened too much this morning, apparently.

��Next.” I stepped forward, handing Finn’s - my letter to the mustachioed guard, and he ran his eyes over for a few seconds before placing it in the pile on the table, and instead handing me a key. “All set, Ambrose. Dorm five, bed three.”

I nodded, hiking my backpack up higher on my shoulders before stalking towards the dorms, which were actually just shacks. Each had clearly seen better days, most were ragged from the weather. Most likely from the brutal winters we would get.

Walking up the steps to the fifth cabin, I opened the door that was already cracked and closed it behind me. A few others had already been in the cabin, and it looks as if there were three sets of bunk beds. Each had a trunk beside and in front of it. I opted to take the top bunk since there was already someone's stuff on the bottom one, and put my bag down on top of the trunk beside it.

“Looks like we’ll be sharing a bunk,” I twisted my head to look at the guy on the other side of the bed, apparently already putting stuff into his trunk. He stuck his hand out, and I really took in his features. “Alaric Godfrey.”

Short black hair, cut down to nearly his scalp, with striking green eyes the color of grass in the summertime. He had round glasses on as well. He reminded me of a hawk with the way he was staring at me.

“Finnigan Ambrose,” I shook his hand, nodding once firmly. “And it looks like you’d be correct.”

“You’re alright with the top bunk, right? If not, we can switch.”

“Yeah, top bunk’s fine. Thanks.” I turned around, starting to unpack my bag as well, folding my clothes into the trunk. “Where’re you from?”

“Riodum. It’s by Spring.” I had heard of it, it was a big trade village. “What about you?”

“Mifflin. It’s by Winter.”

“I know it, the main road goes through it, right?” I nodded, “Clearly we’re both a long way from home.”

Before I could come up with an answer, the front door had opened and a soldier walked in. Or rather, maybe another recruit based on the plain clothes. “General wants everyone in the training grounds by nine.”

“Are we training already? We just got here,” Another guy in our cabin asked once the guy had left, probably off to tell the next shack.

“Doubt it. Probably just a ground tour, and to go over our schedule for the week.” Alaric spoke up, and the others agreed, before we all started making our ways outside. Better early than being late.

The training grounds were right beside the cabins, just a few meters away. Most everyone was already here it seemed, probably having the same sentiment I had earlier about being early. A whistle sounded up front, which halted everyones conversations. A few men were up front, all wore signature red hair and spotless fine clothes. Vanserra’s.

“You all already probably know us, or at least have heard of us. If not, then you’re already at a disadvantage. This is my brother Leo, he’ll be teaching you strategy every other day in the afternoons starting tomorrow.” He gestured to the shorter brother, slightly wavy hair pulled back with a single hair tie. “My other brother, Eris, is the general of the armies, you’ll rarely train with him. However if you make it past week ten, you’ll see a lot more of him.”

“I’m Magnus, I’m in charge of training you lot; so don’t make me look bad. You train with me everyday learning the basics starting at six in the morning sharp. I find out you are late, you run laps until your miserable legs give out. On days you do not train with Leo after lunch, you will be with me once more, learning weaponry. You all will be split into two, cabins one through fifteen you’re group one, cabins sixteen through thirty you’re group two. Schedules are posted weekly at the mess hall”

“The training grounds you’ve already found, congratulations.” Leo took up the rest of the speech they’ve no doubt practiced, “Mess hall is where you get your meals, breakfast starts at five, lunch at noon, and dinner at eight. That is when you’re dismissed from the night.”

He had pointed across from the cabins, to where a larger building was, with some tables and chairs outside, for if anyone chose to eat outside. Then he pointed to the furthest cabin, and on the other side of it was another, slightly larger cabin.

“That is the infirmary, I trust you’ll all find it at one point or another. If you don't, that means you aren’t training hard enough.” Turning back to us, he pointed at a large wooden sign on the side of the mess hall. “Speaking of training hard enough, everyday we put up new ranks during dinner. If you fall below the red line, you’re done. You get sent home, you can’t be called upon again to serve the high lord, and you will not be reimbursed for your time here. Ten people will be cut every week on the last day of the week.”

Murmurs took over the crowd, until another whistle made everyone stop their chattering. This time the general stepped up and spoke, when up until now he seemed bored; as if he had better things to do.

“If you have a problem with it, you can leave now. You aren’t at a ball, you’re training to be warriors. Highly skilled, trained warriors. Only 42 people will graduate, that is a promise. As you all know, those 42 will be split into groups, and each group gets an assignment for life.” He looked around, daring anyone to speak up, or even move. “Top squad gets to be assigned to the high lord. You work as sentries for his residence. Next squad gets to be captains for the warriors on the battlefield. Then it’s patrol duty, one to the north, south, west, and east. The most sought after position is traveling duty. You travel throughout Prythian on business for the king.”

You could hear a pin drop after that speech. Sure, it was common knowledge that not everyone who got conscripted finished training to be a part of the guard, but was it needed to be so harsh? You’d think the more guards the better, so why would they cut down on soldiers? It didn’t make sense. Men were stupid.

“Dismissed,” Magnus called out, as the crowd dispersed. “Don’t forget about training tomorrow.”

This was going to be a long next few months.

—

“Rise and shine, newbies!” A voice broke the peaceful morning air, along with a harsh knock on the door. Magnus. “Breakfast in ten!”

Groaning, I rolled out of bed, stretching my back from the hard mattress, and grabbing a few things from my trunk before rushing to the bathroom, which was the only other room in the cabin. I pulled off my night clothes before putting on the cloth wrap, making sure it was a bit looser than before, and putting on the rest of my clothes for today.

Exiting the bathroom, it was immediately taken by the guy who sleeps in the bunk beside me, I think his name was Bard? Either way, everyone else was already getting dressed, and I had to avert my gaze as I tried to cool my face down. Clearly I would have seen a few cocks, bunking with five males, but everytime they got dressed, did they have to practically wave them around?

I wasn’t a virgin by any means, being three hundred years old, but that didn’t mean my face didn’t still heat up from the sight. Tossing my sleep clothes into my trunk along with my toothbrush, I brushed through my hair with my comb before tying it up with a band Alaric had offered me.

“I’m not used to shorter hair.” I gestured to the tied up hair, which was already falling from its restraints. “I cut it before training.”

“Same here. I think most of us did, except for Bard over there.” Alaric nodded towards the male who was now braiding his hair back, quite well in fact. I could never do it that well, wasn’t sure my youngest sister could either, and she loved braids.

“What about me?” The ginger with a partially done french braid turned, raising a pointed brow. “Hopefully nothing bad.”

“Not at all,” I waved off, offering a band from the bag Alaric had, to which he said thanks. “We were just saying how it seems everyone cut their hair before coming here; aside from you.”

“Ah, this?” Bard laughed, as if it was the funniest joke he’s ever heard. “I did cut my hair as well, it was a lot longer. Turns out training has rules, no hair below the waist. Something about the professionalism of guards and recruits.”

“How long was your hair, then?” Alaric questioned, all three of us making our way to the mess hall, shivering a bit at the cold frost from the crisp spring morning.

“Oh, about down to my knees if it was down. My mother never had a daughter, she always loved braiding my hair, so I let her. Therefore, I never cut it. Not in my four hundred years.” Bard shrugged, grabbing a plate and looking for a seat. “Mind if I stick with you two?”

“I don’t mind.” I replied, grabbing a plate as well, questioning what exactly was in the bowl in front of me.

“I’ll never deny a potential friend. I’m Alaric Godfrey, that’s Finnigan Ambrose.” Alaric shook his hand, as I did the same.

“Bard Tomas,” We all sat down at a table, as another voice spoke from beside us,

“Did I hear your last name is Ambrose?” The male a few seats down questioned, scooting to sit across from Alaric and I. “Which one of you’s Ambrose?”

Bard sipped his tea, raising his eyebrows in question at the new presence; A brown haired male, with curls so tight they seemed to bounce everytime he moved. His eyes however, were the color of robin's eggs.

“I’m Finnigan Ambrose, yes. Do I know you?” I prayed to the cauldron this wasn’t one of Finn’s friends, or else I’ve already outed myself day one.

“No, not at all. Though I knew your father, well, knew of him. My father was in his squad actually, they used to be friends from what he spoke of. Is it true your father used to knock people out with a single touch?” He seemed to be rambling, so fast in fact I barely got what he was saying.

“Yeah, he um - he studied pressure points in the Day court when he was a child. He grew up there, afterall. But certain spots on the body, if pressure is applied there, you’re knocked out like a light.” I explained, shoveling a bit of the gruel into my mouth, before speaking around it. “I didn’t quite catch your name, or your dads name; maybe I’ve heard of him?”

“Jasper Jesper, and my fathers name is Niander Jesper.” He took a bite of his own gruel, nearly gagging at the taste, “Sorry, does your gruel also taste like the underside of a rock?”

“Unfortunately,” Bard spoke up, introducing himself. “I’m sorry, your parents named you Jasper Jesper?”

“Unfortunately,” Jasper copied his earlier reply, “You should hear my full name, it’s much worse.”

“I doubt that.” Alaric spoke up, raising a brow.

“Jasper Jaxson-Julian Jesper.” Alaric’s tea spewed from his nose, as he began coughing.

“There’s no fucking way,” Bard cackled, “Why would your parents curse you with such a tongue-twister name?”

“Honestly? I ask them that everyday.” Jasper laughed, “They say they liked the rhyme scheme. All of my siblings have the same curse. My sister’s name is Josephine Juliet-Jane Jesper.”

“As silly as it is, my parents also liked the rhyming thing,” I offered, finding it a bit endearing. “I have a pair of siblings, twins, Dorian and Florian. Then I have a twin sister named Winifred, they call us Winn and Finn.”

“My parents call me JJ, but my sister's nickname is just Jo.” Jasper added, just as chairs started scraping against the floor, signaling time to go to training.

“You guys wanna stick together? We can all practice together, that way when we have to spar we won’t get random people.” Alaric questioned, all of us agreeing.

“I was just about to suggest the same thing,” Bard smirked, “No one likes being the loner at school.”

The training grounds were empty, aside from the recruits and Magnus. The sun was barely breaking the horizon, frost still coated the ground. I had wished I wore long sleeves, as did everyone else most likely.

“Good morning, recruits. Wish I could say it’s a pleasure seeing you all this early, but I haven’t had my morning cup of tea yet.” Magnus walked back and forth, taking in everyone one by one. “Today we’re testing. Everyone will do different tests, and I’ll be recording your times. We’ll check in the first of each month, to see strength improvements. First up, is running.”

At a snap of his fingers, a flag appeared in the dewy grass, flowing slightly in the breeze.

“You’ll all begin at this flag, I’ll record everyone's times as they pass. My second in command, Aslan, has some of his guards stationed around the path, so we’ll know if you use magic in any way. Which will result in immediate termination, by the way.” Magnus stood to the side of the flag, a servant holding a tray of tea beside him. “Follow the flags, they’ll lead you through the forest path you’ll be jogging down.”

He graciously took the cup of tea offered by the servant, and took a long sip. He sighed in content, before looking at all of us once more.

“What are you waiting for?” He took another sip of his tea before pointing to the air, and firing a ball of, well, fire. “Go.”

My legs went into action before my mind did, and I was yanked back by Alaric, who also grabbed Bard, who grabbed JJ.

“Jog, don’t sprint. You’ll run out of energy faster sprinting. Jogging you’ll conserve it for the entire run. Plus, the more we build stamina, the more endurance we build, the faster we can jog later on.” Alaric nodded towards those who were sprinting, already through the forest bend. “If you sprint, you’re gonna end up in the back by the end of it.”

“That makes sense,” JJ panted, out of breath already; although I couldn’t judge - I was too. “Take it slower, outlast the others. I like it.”

“Good thing we have a strategist in our little group.” Bard gasped, clutching his side. “I shouldn’t have skipped physical activity in school. Or outside of school.”

“Same,” I agreed, feeling the same pang in my ribcage. “Who does this for fun?”

“Psychopaths.” Alaric scanned the area, sweating through his shirt already.

About a half hour later, they were still steady in their jog. All of them were covered in sweat, gasping for the cold morning air. They’ve passed nearly half of the people who started the run off sprinting; proving Alaric’s point.

“Halfway, recruits! Hustle, people, Hustle!” An important looking guy with a clipboard shouted encouragement, he must have been the second in command, Aslan. His hair was blonde, speckled with grey hair. “Come on Ambrose, Jesper, I expected more from you! Let's go!”

“Cauldron, that was unnerving.” JJ puffed out, as I nodded, agreeing. Why did he look familiar?

“I might just drop out,” Bard groaned, stopping off to the side, as we did the same, to wait for him. “You guys don’t have to wait for me.”

“We’re friends, we established this earlier, we stick together.” Alaric panted, his hands on his knees. “Just - take a deep breath or something.”

“Gee, thanks, Mr. Muscles, I didn’t think of that!” Bard glared at Alaric, as he held his hands up. “Okay - Okay I’m good. If I don’t go now I won’t get back up.”

Once more we took off jogging, this time a tad slower. My feet ached, my legs burned, and I swear I could feel the cloth binding my breasts chafing. Not to mention the angle of the sun now burned my eyes.

“Why did you guys get conscripted,” JJ asked, nearly wheezing.

“What do you mean?” Pushing my hair out of my face again, I looked at JJ for a second, before turning my head back forward, not wanting to trip on a branch on the ground. “It’s randomly selected, to be conscripted.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t regular conscription.” Alaric answered, “This is the conscription for the royal guard, we’d protect the high lord and his family, the ‘traveling’ position even more.”

“Why’d you put air quotes around traveling?” Bard spoke up, brows furrowed.

“Because the traveling position isn’t a traveling guard, it’s strategy - spycraft. It’s why we all get background checks and intense training.” He motioned to all of us, “No one gets to train here without being picked for a reason.”

“Ambrose and I were chosen from our parents, I’d bet. I applied a few times as well.” JJ answered, wiping his face with his tunic.

“I didn’t apply. I didn’t even want to be conscripted.” I nearly growled out, “I was supposed to be taking care of my sick mother, when those guys showed up. Told my sisters if I didn’t show up I’d have my family executed.”

“That’s…” Bard started, “Dark. Unusual as well, usually they’d take no for an answer and move onto the next person who made the list. That’s how I’m here; someone changed their mind. I wasn’t accepted until a few days ago.”

“I always wanted to be a spy, my mother was a spy before she died.” Alaric admitted, “I’m only here for that.”

“Then I guess we’re going to be spies,” Bard joked, “Friends stick together, right?”

“I’m in,” I went along, smiling wide, wetting my lips before wrinkling my nose at the taste of the sweat beaded there. “I always enjoyed sneaking around, playing hide and seek with my siblings.”

“Then I suppose I’m in, too.” JJ shrugged, “I don’t see myself as a captain in the army anyway.”

The last flag was just in sight, it was where we started. We must have gone in a large circle around the entire property. About twenty people were sitting in the grass at the finish already, and Magnus shouted our times as we crossed the threshold.

“Ambrose, 96 minutes!”

“Shit,” I cursed as my legs gave out in the grass off to the side. “I’m so glad that’s over.”

Thankfully they had about fifteen minutes to recuperate before the last person finished and Magnus spoke again.

“Alright ladies, now that the warm ups are done,” A series of groans overtook the courtyard. “Onto strength tests. Get into a block, fifteen lines, and when they get full go behind the person in front of you. You’ll be in charge of writing down your scores. Get ready.”

Moving to follow instructions, I was in the middle, my new found friends beside me. The other soldiers present passed out a parchment paper, each soldier then was poised at the end of a line; presumably to stop any cheating.

“We’ll be doing sit ups. I will say when you all sit up and then lay back down. Do not go any slower or faster. If you cannot sit up anymore, you record the amount you completed, Any questions?” Bored eyes scanned the rows of recruits, daring anyone to even question him. “Positions. 3…2… Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.”

I had gotten to sit up number 43 before I felt a stomach cramp, and swore softly - writing down the number on the paper before sitting up and looking around. Nearly everyone was still in. I had to push myself in the upcoming tests if I wanted to stay and earn money for my family.

“89 sit ups - Jeremiah Bayard. Next up planks. Everyone must stay in position, no bending the knees, and you must stay level. Each guard on the row will shout the exact second he sees one of you fall or give up, you’ll write down the exact time he says,” Sipping on more of his tea, or perhaps coffee now, he pulled out a stopwatch, as did the guards around us. “3…2… Begin.”

The first few seconds weren”t so bad. After second thirty my limbs began to burn. Was I really this out of shape? It didn’t matter, I had to fight it, I had to keep going. Not for me - but for them. I had to do my part to help my mother; I had no other choice. If I failed at this, how could I even begin to try and help her? What would it say of my character - of who I am?

I had to block it out. I had to block all of my thoughts, even those of my family - I wouldn’t survive if I didn’t. Just think of nothing, of the grass below my fingers. The sun beating down on my back. The slight breeze that blew my tunic hanging off of me.

“Finnigan Ambrose, three minutes twenty two seconds,” I cursed, falling flat on the grass for the second time this morning. However, when I looked around I saw that everyone else was done. “Next up are push ups. You know the drill. Positions - 3…2…Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up.”

Falling flat for the third time, and this time spitting out grass - I got to twelve push ups. Twelve. I was not out first this time, though. Bard was. He caught my eye and shrugged then held up two fingers. He had done two push ups.

“Alright, this time, each line is going to follow the leader to one of the fifteen soldiers in front of me, they will use a stopwatch to count how long you can do the dead-hand. You will hang onto these bars, dangling until your arms give out.”

Thankfully I had loved climbing trees as a child, so hopefully I wouldn’t be the worst at these. Though my arm strength with push ups wasn’t good - hopefully it was a fluke. Nope, not a fluke. I didn’t last a minute, I immediately fell off of the pole, and looked in shock. I was going to be sent home.

“Dinner time. That means you sorry lot are done for the day. We’ll tally up your scores and post them by the time dinner’s over. Good luck.”

“Shit-” JJ was the first to speak, finding the group of us already sitting at the same table as this morning. “Did we get lunch? I can’t remember.”

“Nope, we got done with the run after lunchtime, those who finished after lunch time didn’t get lunch.” Alaric explained, nearly inhaling his stew.

“Not fair, how were we to perform to the best of our ability if we didn’t get lunch?” Bard complained, rubbing his arms.

“I don’t know, luck?” Everyone started getting up now, rushing towards the door. “Where’re they going?”

“Scores are up.” A passerby filled us in, and we stood too, putting our trays away first. It took awhile until we were able to read the board, and I went down the list starting at the top. Then the middle. Then the bottom.

“Shit.” I swore, my name was fifth last Rank 197. The only consolation was Bard was dead last. “I’m going to get sent home. The first week. This is embarrassing.”

“You said it, brother.” Bard groaned.

#acotar #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x reader smut #eris x reader

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sexysilverstrider · 2 months ago

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SGAO | One's Hatred

He hated her.

Why did she appear in his life? Why did she go and ruin everything he ever dreamed of? Why did she, of all people, come into his life—briefly; ever so briefly—just to shatter the very reality he so desperately built since young?

It wasn’t fair, he thought. It wasn’t fair that Arceus decided to spit on him just for wanting something meaningful for once in his life.

He always knew she was special. From the second she stepped foot into his hometown, he realized that she wasn’t any ordinary trainer. The way she commanded her Pokémon was mystifying; it almost felt like watching a grand show. One that always sent him to a stupor. Her confidence poured so shamelessly when she interacted with people. Her courage merely squashed the very vulnerability he held vainly.

She was the perfect candidate to tear his life into ruin. And yet, he vainly believed she never would.

His eyes burned at the memory. His chest ached at the travesty.

The sight of the ogre rejecting him broke his heart. The sight of the ogre accepting her shattered his spirit.

It should be him.

A hiss spat through clenched teeth. Hands flung to his head. Fingers gripped on coarse tuffs of black and violet hair. The pain on his scalp—red and wounded—was long ignored, leaving him with a sharp sense of pain that should temporarily rob him of the cruel reality.

It worked the first few times.

Eyes snapped open. Pupils shrunk into sharp slits.

Slam! One foot kicked the foot of the chair. It gave him a piercing response on his throbbing toe.

Slam! Yet, he didn’t care. Slam, slam, slam, slam!

Again, again, again, he kicked. His toes started to pulsate even more. The skin started to show a bruise of blood red.

He still saw her and the ogre.

“ARRGH!!” A scream bounced in the hollow room. Holding the back of the chair, he flung it to the side.

Crash! It hit a wall, then dropped on its side in a pathetic state.

Just like him.

Silence once again taunted him.

The pain on his head and foot were screaming for attention.

He didn’t care.

He couldn’t.

Finally, as defeat clogged his body, he felt himself dropped to the ground.

It hurt, he thought. It hurt so much.

A heavy head dropped to his bent knees. How he wished the darkness would shield him from his heavier heart.

Alas, all he saw was her.

“Hic…” He felt pathetic. “Hrk…” He felt weak.

He hated her. He hated her so much.

But most of all, Kieran hated himself even more for baring his heart, his hope, his dreams to her.

--------------------------------------------------

She hated herself.

Where did she go wrong, she lamented. Where did she fuck up so bad that Arceus decided to forsake her just for desiring something so innocently selfish?

From the moment she stepped into his hometown, she never thought much about their first impression. She only saw him as an innocent boy, eyes so bright with hope that rivalled the sun. She didn’t think much of it. He was a young, sweet trainer who was in awe of her presence. Pride started to fill her chest. Confidence started to spill from every action. She did what she usually does best, merely showing off her constantly improving strategies in battles in hopes to win everyone’s hearts.

It worked before. It always worked.

But this…this was a choice that she wished she could go back in time and take it all back.

Her eyes ached at the memory. Her chest tightened at the jealousy.

The sight of Ogerpon rejecting him broke her heart. The sight of Ogerpon accepting her choked her throat.

She didn’t mean it.

She didn’t mean it!

A gasp burst out of a coughing mouth. Immediately, she sat up straight. One hand slapped her gaping mouth. Left fingers dug deep into the soft materials of her bedsheets. Maroon hair was in disarray, uncombed and unkempt as bangs covered wide, manic eyes.

The aircon was at full blast, yet sweat dripped from the sides of her face.

I’m— Thoughts garbled as words were a failure. I’m…sorry—

She knew words meant nothing to him. She knew he didn’t ever want to see her again. After all that’s said and done, there was no one to ultimately blame but herself.

She shouldn’t have given him hope. She shouldn’t have tried to be close with him. She shouldn’t have bared her heart open, enticing him to do the same. She was despicable and a fool. A fool who had torn a boy into pieces just because she thought she deserved a chance to fall in love.

“Sorry…” Her body bent. “Sorry—sorry…” Lower and lower.

Her spine hurt. Her back sent every painful nerve to her brain in hopes that she stopped.

She remained that position for an uncomfortably long time.

All she saw was him and his hatred towards her.

Breathing seemed hard. Vision started to blur.

Why did she wake up?

Frail sobs filled the walls around her. Medals and awards of her achievements seemed to mock her, seemed to laugh at the one success she never ever wanted. Hands swiftly moved to her ears, covering around shrilling silence that suffocated her. Tearful eyes squeezed harder, pushing away thick tears that stained flushed cheeks.

What a fool she was, for what she saw next was his smile as he handed her the candied apple.

Black eyes snapped open. Pale lips parted pathetically.

Sorry— Breathing rasped. Pupils shrunk. S-Sorry—!

As she stayed on her bed, bent and broken, countless apologies filled the hollow hole in her heart.

She hated herself. She hated herself so much.

And most of all, Aoi hated herself for ruining his heart. His hopes. His dreams.

END

#SGAO #Dipplinshipping #Juliana #Kieran #Pokemon #Aoi #Fafar Writes #hi guys!!!!! pain time :)#lmao heres a short oneshot of how i perceive kieran n aoi?#tho in this case its technically my protag teratai #but for generals sake ill use aois name #but ya i see tht my girl has more guilt since she strives to make ppl like her #n it sucks tht your first love hates your guts coz of doomed by narrative #it do be like tht sometimes

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belit0 · 1 year ago

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2000 Word Commission (Uchiha Madara / Fem Reader) @moroseu

"I was wondering if you could write Madara falling for reader who was one of the many shinobi he had to fight during the war era. He never had the chance to actually act out on his feelings until the creation of Konoha, where he saw her for the first time outside of combat, during a diplomatic meeting of sorts. She is not wearing armor, she seems a lot more gentler unlike on the battlefield and for the first time, she greets him with a smile. Who will make the first move!? Will he chase after her when the meeting ends or vice versa!? That will be left up to you!"

As I was editing this, I noticed how I changed the meeting situation and got an angry Madara instead, I just hope you like it, my darling Roseu💕😭🙏 Thank you so much for always trusting me with your amazing ideas, I feel truly honored🛐💫

EACH COMMISSION COMES WITH AN EXTRA SECRET SCENARIO, THAT I UNIQUELY AND ESPECIALLY ADD FOR THE BUYER. (I'll leave you an example of it at the bottom, but in Spanish, so you don't cheat.)

KO-FI COMMISSIONS

Madara is angry, in such an intense and terrible mood that makes him look like a hedgehog poised for a fight. Those who know the Uchiha usually avoid getting close to him in this state, aware they will get nothing but a threat and at worst, a glimpse of the Sharingan.

Obfuscated on his desk he tries to read Hashirama's indecipherable handwriting, whatever he tried to explain in the document he left for him. Peaceful times brought out the worst in everyone, and while the Senju leader stands out as the shinobi god, he has no freaking clue about what he's doing in office terms.

Madara, adopting the position of Shadow Hokage, spends more time between trips and physical negotiations than sitting behind a piece of wood, but every time he has to deal with his best friend's errands, his blood boils inside his body.

Is this motivation enough to start another war? Maybe…

"The... a-village of... con-no.oga? What the..." He sighs to himself, abandoning the document on the table and leaning back against his chair. One hand travels to his hair, running through the completeness of his scalp anxiously, and the other to his face, wishing he could disappear into the darkness his gloves provide.

He could ask for help, interpretation, or assistance, were it not for the fact that both Senju brothers decided to disappear altogether, leaving him with total responsibility for the situation. Izuna? Of course not, he doesn't count, he is more of an enemy than an ally when it comes to administration.

With his eyes still covered he remembers those times when everything was simpler and complicated at the same time, where the paperwork was not important and the only decisive thing was blood, sweat, and effort. His body tends to miss those scenarios where it was a matter of killing or getting killed, when the only meaning was to protect his own and to return home with as many as possible, to make sure that Izuna was safe, that the family was still complete.

War times were as terrible as they were wonderful, moments where only Tajima had to deal with annoying elders and combat strategies, Madara being a free young man with the only goal of bringing the Senju heir's head in arms and presenting it before everyone as a symbol of power.

Of course, he did not count on becoming the best friend of this Senju in question, nor running a village with him.

Blood used to flow smoothly, screams rang out from all sides, weapons roared against each other, and she looked as beautiful as ever in her armor and-.

"STOP!" The Uchiha suddenly shouts, standing up and planting both hands on his desk. Eyes wide open and hair tousled, he's grateful to be alone in the office and avoid having to give embarrassing explanations to anyone.

His inkwell spills onto the paperwork because of how he slams the desk, and the document which was already illegible because of Hashirama's handwriting now becomes even worse. The half covered by a huge black stain is given up for lost, and Madara holds his hair yet again, this time itching to rip it out of his head.

"SHIT!" He vowed to never think of her again, to deny that woman place and space in his mind, to eradicate her from his memories and exile her from any corner of his brain. For years he battled against that beautiful face captured in his thoughts, charming eyes, and the ferocity with which she tried to kill him over and over again in the name of the Senju.

She was not part of the clan, but her family allied with them to avoid being massacred for lack of decision. Hashirama worked with her side by side, and the woman dared to stand up to Madara on countless occasions when the leader had to attend to other fronts.

Never had he seen anyone but Hashirama or his stupid brother dare to look him in the face, avoiding his eyes of course, but with their heads held high and proudly puffing out their chests. "Now… what is the name of this warrior who dares attempt to end my life?" He had asked her with a smirk, expecting a perfect escape rather than a coherent answer.

"(Y/N)" she confessed to him before attacking, lunging with savagery and impressive speed at him, the only time she almost succeeded in slashing his neck. He had let his guard down in front of the woman, inviting her to dance a deadly tantrum from which he himself almost ended up losing his life.

The girl proved to be unbeatable, with will and strength of steel, always with an ace up her sleeve. At some point, the confrontations against the Senju took on a new flavor, giving the Uchiha the chance to see her, to fight against her, to have the privilege of admiring her raw power, and to be the recipient of all her assaults.

She was the only warrior he could not kill while holding her at the end of his weapon.

That time, (Y/N) had gotten careless after hours of combat, almost zero chakra left and few physical resources to use. Only the last several warriors were left standing, including the two of them. There had been hours of terrible exchanges, hard blows, and worse answers, but the girl gave an easy access entrance, an opportunity Madara did not hesitate to use.

When he had her on the ground, surrendered under his body and the strength of his hands, he could feel how she gave herself to destiny, how she submitted to whatever life wanted to happen to her, and that distracted him. The kunai was resting on her neck, all he had to do was press lightly, pierce the skin, and tear her throat as with countless enemies.

Instead, his hands were diverted by the warmth of her skin, the sharpness of her eyes, how soft her lips seemed even after hours of fighting and little to no water. Her presence became intoxicating, to the point where it managed to steal his goal of slaughter completely off his mind. She was the only opposing presence the Uchiha dared to forgive, and instead of finishing her off with the edge of his hatred, he allowed her to live.

He allowed her to live.

Her face has been hunting him ever since, unintentionally etched on his Sharingan and chasing him even with closed eyes. That was their last confrontation before the peace treaty, and he never knew what became of her once the war ended, feeling incapable of asking Hashirama about her whereabouts.

He felt fortunate to have had the privilege of witnessing her, meeting her, fighting as an equal opponent against her, yet that was all. He decided to ignore the reminders of (Y/N)’s presence in his mind, to bury her in the depths of times that are no more, and allow himself to move on without regretting not enquiring about her, searching for her.

Odds are that, if he did, she would spit in his face.

The man looks at the ruined sheet and decides to try and fix it, not to give up in the face of adversity caused by horrible penmanship and bad luck. He approaches Hashirama's desk and proceeds to rummage through all the visible and hidden contents in hopes of finding a copy. If the Hokage followed his advice and instructions, if he deigned to listen to Tobirama's damned recommendations, then he should have written it twice.

Or so he hopes.

Papers fly here and there as his frustration mounts, that wonderful dream of finishing his pending assignment looking farther and farther away, embarrassing decorations from his best friend raining down on the floor. He lets out another angry scream, thankful again to be alone in the room, pounding on the wood to the point of breaking it completely.

Shit.

"Bad day?" A female voice asks, and it sounds way too close for him to have imagined it. He knows that voice, yet it is not a petulant memory from the past, but an actual event in the same room. Memories come flooding back, the same tone he heard over and over again when she tried to impale him with her techniques. It takes him a minute before he dares to look up, but when he does, he understands not to be imagining anything.

"You look bad, need a hand?" he can't answer, can't find words to speak, and feels heat rising to his cheeks. It's one thing to see the girl you like fighting against you and always in a context of death and destruction, yet a totally different one is to appreciate her after years, casually dressed and with no deadly intentions.

(Y/N) looks even more beautiful than how he remembers her, stunning body covered by civilian garments, coaxing eyes looking at him with a tone of laughter on her wonderful face. The lack of armor allows him to admire the gorgeousness of her curves, how smooth her skin looks, and-.

"Madara?" She shakes him out of his stupor with a snap of her fingers, forcibly bringing him back to earth and landing on his ass. He blinks a few times and produces a few babbles before finding coherence inside his head again.

"Yeah, no, I mean... (Y/N)?"

"The one and only." She smiles harmoniously, her face beaming with the gesture and making him reassess whether he is dreaming or not. "I was instructed to bring this to you, you know how politics works." She hands over a sealed scroll, one the Uchiha receives with clumsy hands. He ends up having to take off his gloves for accurate finger control, opening the delivery's contents and feeling his soul returning to his body.

"Tobirama figured it would be beneficial for you, he didn't have much hope for the Hokage's work." She simply explains with a relaxed posture, like not having a care in the world. While Madara feels like he might pee his pants at how intimidatingly beautiful he finds his wife... the, woman, she seems totally unaffected.

He confirms this is the document he screwed up, but it's a legible, polished version, traced by the albino's handwriting and thoughts, proofread probably about three times before having the final product. Composure returns, and he feels like an idiot for the scene he put together, such simple solutions delivered by the angel in front of him.

"I see you're still as fierce as ever, huh? You should learn to control that anger, dear. War is over and life is beautiful." The woman winks and pats his arm, smiling again before turning and heading for the door.

It's now or never.

"WOULDYOULIKETOHAVEADRINKWITHME?!" The question sounds more like a barked demand than an invitation, but it gets (Y/N) to look back at him with amusement. She comes closer again, each step executed with both grace and elegance, making Madara feel like a little boy in front of the love of his life.

Is she the love of his life? Probably, yes.

"Are you asking me out, Uchiha?" she purrs mischievously, savoring the taste of having her former enemy basically at her feet. Madara never felt so vulnerable, and he hates every second it took him to work up the courage to ask her out. Impulses are not always good, and just as he is about to retract his proposal, the woman invades his personal space to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"When and where, Madara?"

EXAMPLE OF A SPECIAL AND UNIQUE ADDED SCENARIO

#uchiha madara x reader #madara uchiha x reader #madara x reader #uchiha madara #madara uchiha #madara #naruto founders #hashirama senju #senju hashirama #hashirama #tobirama senju #senju tobirama #tobirama #uchiha clan #senju clan #naruto x reader #ko fi commissions #commission #kofi commission

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emmaameliamiaava · 4 months ago

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Scalping strategy - How to profit from small price moves

The scalping strategy involves making profits from frequent trades made during the day. Learn how it works and what its techniques are to make gains.

#scalping-strategy #scalping-trading #scalping-trading-strategy #best-scalping-strategy #scalping-options

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wishitweresummer · 1 year ago

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Now What Do We Use (Dream x GeorgeNotFound x Sapnap)

Word count: 4819

((This is from my series Glass House!! Next part is Now Let Me Explain.))

Warning: Restraints and intense tickles! Safeword use. Feet tickling. Tickle tools.

Dream cursed under his breath. He had snooped again. It was an accident like last time, but he still felt a little bad. He stared at the tab he had just clicked out of and analyzed the scenario he was in.

What were the chances George had left this open on his computer specifically for him to find? Pretty high, he decided. He clicked back onto the tab and scanned the contents, forgetting entirely what he had even needed the other boy’s computer for.

It was George’s Amazon wishlist. Dream’s eyes scanned the items. They were…a strange mix of items. At first glance he had assumed a few of them were things George would want to be tickled with, but he huffed in amusement when he realized it was every single thing.

With a few clicks, he shared the wishlist to his own account. He headed back to his own room and sent a quick text to summon Sapnap.

On his own phone, he pulled up the wishlist and moved the entire thing into his shopping cart. He whistled at the total.

“Bougie bitch…”, he whispered.

Amazon Cart 6 Items

Subtotal: $750.01

Sun&Lion V2 Deep Tissue Massage Gun

Natural Eagle Feathers 10-16 inch Turkey Pheasant

PHILIPS Sonicare DiamondClean 9000 Connected Rechargeable Electric Power Toothbrush 2-Pack, Black + White - Bluetooth

Glamzy Baby Massage Oil 100mL with Almond Oil, Aloe Vera, Calendula Oil, and Macadamia

WYNDEL Comb Silicone Hairbrush Shampoo Brush Scalp Massage

RHOS Paddle Hairbrush

“What’s up?”, Sapnap asked from the doorway. Dream grinned and waved him over, tossing him his phone when he got close.

“Gogy let me use his computer but accidentally left open a tab with his Amazon wishlist on it.”, he used air quotes for ‘accidentally’ to make Sapnap grin as he joined him on the bed.

“He’s rich, he can just buy th-whoa! This is almost a thousand dollars with shipping Dream!”, Sapnap laughed and leaned against him as he scrolled through the cart. “Baby oil?”.

“Pretty sure it makes you more ticklish.”.

“What about the hairbrush?”.

“I think for his feet.”, Dream said as he made a scrubbing motion. “Same as the scalp massager thing.”. Sapnap cringed with his entire body at the thought.

“Holy shit.”, he muttered. The idea of either tools being pressed to his own sensitive soles made him shake his head. “George is crazy.”. Dream laughed and nudged him.

“Imagine how he would react if we did it to him.”.

“He’d be so loud.”, Sapnap grinned. “Buy it.”.

“Huh? We can split it.”.

“Buy. It.”, Sapnap shoved him.

“Fine fine.”.

~•~

Two day delivery.

In the meantime, Dream and Sapnap brushed up on their knowledge for a few of the tools they were confused about. Where exactly to put the baby oil. Places they could use the scalp massager. Where the vibrating toothbrushes would work best.

After a loose strategy meeting on a lazy afternoon, they ambushed George.

“What are you doing?!”, he yelled as he fought against the two of them. As always, his strength was nothing compared to them. He shrieked in fear as one of his wrists was captured in a cuff and attached to the top corner of his bed. Instantly, he broke into giggles. “No no please no!”, he begged.

Of course, it fell on deaf ears. In no time, the boy was writhing helplessly in his restraints. In a t-shirt and shorts, but feeling naked. He scrunched his, newly freed, toes in the open air.

“Hush now. We gotcha.”, Sapnap said. George was wracked with nervous giggling as Dream left the room.

“Is it just us?”, he asked in a delirious haze.

“No, idiot. He’s getting your gifts.”.

“Gifts?”.

Dream came back with a big Amazon box. George’s giggles faded away into silence.

“Does that look mean you know what’s in here?”.

“No way.”, he whispered. His cheeks flamed and he squirmed helplessly in their gazes.

“Oh yes, Georgie. We found your Amazon wishlist.”. George was stunned into silence.

~•~

Dream waved the massage gun in the air. George shuddered in his restraints. He had never actually felt the tickle of a massage gun before, but it looked brutal in the videos he saw online.

“Alright so…I think it will work here.”, Dream said as he grabbed George’s knee and pressed the head of the gun into the sensitive muscle of his inner thigh. The boy whimpered. Dream grinned and switched it on.

George’s vision nearly blacked as every nerve in his leg was lit up with an intense pulse of ticklish electricity. The spot the head was pressed into pulsed quickly and his entire leg shook with the force. A stunted yelp slipped from his lips, but his lungs weren’t able to keep up with the force of laughter trying to break out. Nothing had ever tickled this badly. He convulsed silently, completely mindless to the feeling. And then…it stopped.

“Oh, it died?”, Dream asked as he pulled back the gun. George burst into hysterical cackles, the feeling in his leg still making him buzz. Sapnap chuckled and creeped closer to the head of the bed.

“No no!! No way! Fuck! You can’t do that again!! No! That was crazy!! Oh god! Guys, seriously!!”, he blubbered through his laughter. There was no fucking way he would survive that evil thing touching him again.

“Huh? No way! George, this thing was so expensive and you wanted it!”. The boy squeaked in embarrassment, unable to calm down at all.

“Return it!!”. The two laughed at the dramatics. George dropped his head back against the pillow and let the dizzy giggles bubble out of him. Dream plugged the massage gun into the wall and left it charging on the bedside table.

“We’ll have to come back to that later.”. George whined through his giggles.

“Please, I really can’t handle that. You have to listen to me.”, he had a cute little tinge of delirium to his voice.

Sapnap leaned over the side of the bed and popped back up with two long feathers.

“Should we start out soft then?”.

~•~

Soft might have sounded nice, but George truly thought he was going to die. With one delicate feather being flossed through his toes and the other teasing under his shirt sleeve into his armpit, he was shaking with desperate laughter. His nerves sparked under the teasing touch and he squirmed as wildly as he could. It was no use.

“Please please oh god please!”, he babbled through his laughter.

“But Georgie, it’s so soft!”.

He squealed loudly as Sapnap teased it against his ear, flushing in embarrassment at his own reaction.

“Oh, that’s right!! Your ears!!”. Sapnap put his palm on George’s forehead and pressed his head back into the pillow. “Here we go!”. George let out a wail of anguish, then collapsed into high pitched laughter. Dream grinned as he came to a stop and started crawling up George’s body to get a better look.

“Please!!”, he cried. He was shaking at the gentle torture.

“So cute…”, Dream coo’ed. The feather traced around and around the inside of his red ear. He bucked and squeaked, burning with humiliation.

“Fuck you!!”. He tried to shake his head, but it was impossible with Sapnap’s stupid hand clapped over his forehead.

“Oh, Georgie…”, Dream tsked and teased his own feather along the creases of the squirmy boy's neck. He squealed loudly, making the other two giggle. “Wow, your fancy expensive feathers were worth it huh?”.

“Shut…up!!”, he managed through his bubbly laughter.

George’s forehead was released and he jerked his head up, then dropped it back to the pillow with delirious giggles, rubbing his ear against it. The feather was waved teasingly in the air over his clothed chest and tummy before Dream tugged up his shirt to reveal it. He whimpered.

Normally, he was tortured with a rough touch. Mean squeezes and grabs to make him scream. The idea of a feather against his skin had never really scared him, but was interesting enough for him to look at online. He’d never bought it though. He figured it wouldn’t actually do much.

Now…well what the fuck was he thinking? Since the moment one of those dumb feathers traced his skin he hadn’t stopped jumping or shaking for one second. It was a sharp feeling. His sensitive nerves prickled underneath it and he could feel his senses heightening in defense. Not only could he not handle this, but he knew it would make the rest of his night worse.

He squealed when the tip of the feather teased into his bellybutton. He jerked his hips to the side roughly, but a large hand grabbed hold and pressed him to the bed. When he wasn’t able to squirm away from the feeling and it persisted, he threw his head back and burst into squeaky laughter.

“The feathers make him like…a squeaky toy.”, Sapnap noted amusedly. He cried out at the tease, making them both laugh.

“Please!”, he whined out the plea. Sapnap’s feather joined Dream in clumsily trying to shove into his bellybutton and his entire body jolted as he giggled hysterically. The noise was light and frantic.

“I thought soft tickling didn’t work that well on you?”, Sapnap asked. George was gasping through his giggles and shaking his head. “He’s so cute like this.”.

They trailed the feathers all over his body. When teased behind his knees, he squealed every single time. Dream and Sapnap giggled as they took turns poking the feathers under his knees and making him make funny noises.

~•~

“C’mon Georgie let us in!”, Dream giggled as he fought with the wiggling toes.

“Please! Please!”, he cried out frantically as he jerked his feet around and scrunched his toes in defense. Were they trying to kill him?

Suddenly at the same time, Dream and Sapnap both got their vibrating toothbrushes in between the last two toes on both of George’s feet. The sounds he made were incredible. They dropped their jaws in awe as they watched George convulse on the bed. The laughter pouring out of him was unlike anything they had heard before. It was shamelessly loud and desperate.

The vibrating sensation was unfamiliar and startling. No amount of squirming could free him and he felt himself lose his mind to the feeling. The toothbrushes were decidedly evil. They both prodded around curiously between his quivering toes and he screamed in ticklish agony.

“Whoa!”, Sapnap laughed. George thrashed in his restraints and fell into uncontrollable laughter. His body and mind screamed for him to beg for mercy, to beg for them to go one at a time, to beg for them to stop. But, he didn’t.

“Fuck!”, he squeaked out. His face was a pretty shade of crimson.

“These work pretty well, Georgie.”, Dream said with a grin. He quickly touched the head of the vibrating brush to each of George’s toe pads and he let out a stream of high pitched cries and squeaks.

Sapnap turned and started climbing up the bed, waving the still-vibrating toothbrush at George.

“Nonono!!!”.

“Oh, yes.”, he smirked. The vibrating head touched inside George’s little bellybutton and he screeched. “Ooh!!”.

“Get out!!!”, he yelled, then burst into hysterical giggling. Dream peeked around Sapnap’s shoulder.

“Oh he sounds so cute when you do that.”. George squealed and bucked, but Sapnap was relentless in twisting the head around slowly to find the best reactions. He threw his head back into the pillow and bubbly laughter poured out. “He sounds happy!”, Dream exclaimed.

“Well, he is. He’s getting his tickles!”, Sapnap smirked back at Dream while he twisted the head of the toothbrush just right to make George squeal again.

“Shut up!!”, George shrieked, horrified at the words. A panicked burst of squeaky giggles escaped him as he jerked back and forth. “Sapnap!!”.

Dream laughed and leaned around Sapnap, trailing the vibrating head of his own toothbrush up George’s ticklish side. He squealed helplessly. He teased it closer and closer to his armpit and the boy screamed in terror.

“I hate you guys!!”.

“Oh, well that was rude.”, Dream scoffed and dove his toothbrush right into his armpit. Sapnap followed quickly. They both laughed at George’s violent reaction. Silent screams wracked his chest as he bucked and convulsed helplessly. He finally caught a little bit of air and wailed with laughter. It was frantic and beautiful. “Cute…”, Dream murmured.

The two made sure to thoroughly treat every inch of George’s ticklish armpits to the little vibrating heads of their toothbrushes before moving on. The tickles were so intense and focused, it made it hard for George to catch any air to laugh or beg. Mercilessly, they smiled on as he gasped and choked and cried.

Luckily, they knew this was what he truly wanted. As crazy as that might seem to them sometimes.

Eventually, they flicked off the toothbrushes and allowed him a break. George’s body went limp against the bed and flustered giggles broke free. Dream shushed him gently and pet his damp hair. Sapnap almost started to help get rid of the ghost tickles, but thought better of it. He poked the tip of George’s red nose.

“The ghosts are tickle tickle tickling you, huh?”, he teased. George nodded through his delirious giggling. The words were feathery and lined with sugar, sparking excitement across his nerves. Against his will, he squirmed at nothing. Sapnap coo’ed, making everything worse.

“Silly…”, George mumbled between giggles, barely thinking. Dream and Sapnap laughed.

It was so freeing to be known like this. George relaxed into the fluffy feelings and let his bubbly giggles take over. Here, he could be light and dumb and young. Dream wiped his tears away and he closed his eyes, humming. The cold thumbs against his burning hot cheeks felt refreshing.

“Sweet boy.You are silly.”, Dream grinned. George nuzzled up into the hand. Sapnap and Dream looked at each other in surprise. Soft little giggles were sneaking out from between his lips. Sapnap whined.

“He’s being so cute.”, he murmured.

Suddenly, he grabbed hold of both of George’s sides to make him squeal loudly.

“Stop being so cute.”.

“Sap!!!”, he cried and burst into crazed laughter. “No!! Please!!”. Dream laughed and poked into his ribs, making him shriek. “Dream!!”.

“We won’t stop unless you stop being cute!!”. George threw his head back into the pillow and cackled loudly.

Sapnap held up the electric toothbrush and turned it back on, making George scream in terror. They both laughed.

~•~

“Alright, what’s next?”, Dream asked as he got off the bed and stretched. Sapnap dug through the box. They both ignored George’s breathless giggles and whimpers.

“Hairbrush and this super fancy baby oil.”, Sapnap said as he held up the items. George whined loudly. “Oh, you excited?”.

“Shut up.”, George said quietly. He scrunched his toes at the sight of the hairbrush being inspected by Sapnap. He had only ever felt a hairbrush against his foot once before and he had nearly hurt both himself and Dream at how hard he thrashed and screamed. He snuck a look over to the boy in question and then closed his eyes and shoved his face into the pillow at the shit-eating grin he was met with.

“Oh Georgie.”, he coo’ed. “George loves the hairbrush! Wow…we’ve never tried it with the oil though have we? Huh, Georgie? You must be so excited!”.

“Dream, shut up.”, he gritted out, horribly flustered. Dream peeked back and laughed at the nervous toes.

“Stretching out your piggies in preparation?”, Dream asked. George squawked at the words. He laughed and ruffled his hair. George was giggling frantically, unable to calm down. His sweaty hair stuck up everywhere from the ruffling and he tried to squirm away, but failed.

“There’s only one.”, Sapnap added.

“He can only handle one. You use it and I’m going to sit on him so he doesn’t squirm too much and hurt himself.”, Dream said as he climbed back onto the bed and straddled George’s waist facing his legs. George whimpered, giggles finally calming down as the sudden reality of his situation set in. He wiggled his body a little in protest and earned a quick squeeze to his thigh.

“Dream!”, he screeched. His butterflies were never going to go away at this point. “Fuck, I can’t do this.”, he cried desperately.

“Sure you can!”.

“No, it’s going to be too bad!!”, he whined and flopped his head back into the pillow a few times.

Dream and Sapnap froze and stared at each other, waiting for a safeword drop. One of George’s feet was shaking with nervous energy and Sapnap grabbed it to stop it. A flurry of excited squeaky giggles flew from George’s mouth and they both grinned.

“These little feet are already so ticklish! What’s gonna happen when I put the baby oil on George? Huh?”.

“Don’t!!”, he cried. No safeword, though.

“Let’s see what happens without it first.”.

“No! Get away!!”, he screamed. Still, no safeword. Dream and Sapnap nodded at each other; he was fine.

Despite his threat, Sapnap grabbed the baby oil and clicked it open. George yelped at the sound.

“No no no please!!! C’mon!!”. Sapnap coated his hands and started gently massaging the oil into his left foot. Instantly, George burst into frantic giggles.

“Get between his toes too.”, Dream added helpfully. George squealed as Sapnap listened.

“Alright Georgie, are you ready?”.

“No!! Oh fuck oh fuck!!!”, George thrashed as much as he could, but Dream’s weight was on his hips. “Please I can’t take it!!! Sapnap please!!!”, he begged. There was a real edge of panic to his voice. “Don’t do it!!! I’m begging you!!!”.

If anyone else was tickling him, George probably wouldn’t let himself get into that level of franticness knowing it would scare most people into stopping. His two best friends knew better.

Sapnap giggled as he grabbed a hold of the foot and scrubbed the hairbrush against the slippery sole. George screwed his eyes shut and screamed bloody murder. The ticklish feeling was intense and unstoppable. It shot up through his leg and threw his entire body into a squirming panic. Every nerve in his system spiked at the feeling. Before he could suck in a breath to laugh, his lungs were pushing out another scream. It was a desperate and helpless noise. The ticklish feeling was overwhelming. Fresh tears streaked down his hot cheeks as he shook his head uselessly. His lungs burned a little with the force of his screaming and he felt dizzy at the lack of air. Just as he thought he was going to die, Sapnap stopped. George sucked in a large breath of air and exploded with laughter. Dream smirked back at him.

“Wow! That worked really well! Georgie, are you okay?”, Sapnap laughed as he stood up to see George’s face. It was impossibly red and covered in tears. He could only shake his head ‘no’ as his laughter faded into delirious giggling. In Sapnap’s hand, the foot was still twitching from the aftershocks. He teased the brush across the toes and grinned as George let out a choked shriek. “So ticklish!”.

Dream grinned and tilted his head in the direction of George’s right foot. As soon as Sapnap grabbed it George was thrown into a giggly panic again.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!!!”, he cried through his giggles. He squirmed as much as he could, but it was barely any. Sapnap had left the cap on the baby oil open so George had no warning before it was suddenly being massaged into his sensitive foot and the surprise made him yelp. Dream and Sapnap laughed.

“You have to be the most dramatic person on this planet!”, Dream said, amusedly.

“Do you wanna try this?!”, George asked, voice pitching strangely as he spoke through his giggling.

“No fucking way.”, Dream shook his head quickly. He looked over and laughed when he noticed Sapnap subconsciously responding with a head shaken ‘no’ as well. This would be way too intense for either of them. Maybe if he was prepared and ready, and definitely not restrained, he would give it a try. But, right now after the display George had just put on? No shot. He’s pretty certain it would kill him. He could almost feel the prickly tingles of ghost tickles along his soles just thinking about it.

George’s piercing scream broke him out of his thoughts. Sapnap scrubbed at the captured foot and grinned as the boy seemingly lost his mind.

This was something George was getting to experience more and more as Dream and Sapnap learned to put their mercy to the side for him. His brain switched off and he gave into his instincts, just screaming and crying. The ticklish feeling was maddening. The sensations were quick and startling, shooting through his body and making him squirm like a live wire. His foot flexed and twitched and trembled as Sapnap held it in place for his torment. He was helpless to it, to them. Just…tickles. It tickled. It tickled horribly.

A tortured scream tore through his body, sounding desperate enough to make Sapnap stop. It was unexpected, making him cry out with a shrill pathetic noise.

“Are you okay?”, Dream was asking somewhere above him. George opened his eyes and blinked away the tears. The room was bright. The question was confusing for some reason. He was still gasping for air and not sure how to respond. Yes? No? He was being tickled. “George?”, Dream tried again. Giggles spilled from his lips and he squirmed under the attention, confused and dizzy.

“It tickles.”, he squeaked out. Maybe that would be good enough? Dream smiled.

“Oh does it?”, he teased. The grip on his foot tightened and he was suddenly thrown back into his wild screaming as Sapnap touched that hairbrush back to his sensitive sole. Sapnap wasn’t going easy, really abusing his weakness. George gulped down air in an attempt to laugh, but the tickling was too intense. Screams tore from his throat before he could stop them and he was helpless to the feeling. His leg twitched violently, but was held in place by a large hand.

Together, they safely took him apart. George was allowed to thrash and scream to his heart's content without a thought.

Eventually, the feeling disappeared and George fell limp. Weak giggles broke through, but George couldn’t squirm at the ghost tickles anymore.

“So…what’s this?”, Sapnap’s voice asked from somewhere. A bunch of dull points pressed into his ticklish and over-sensitive sole and he squealed.

“What is that!!”, he yelled in panic. Both boys were laughing.

“It’s some kind of scalp massager for like, shampoo. But George wanted to be tickled with it.”, Dream explained.

Oh, they weren’t even going to let him recover.

George burst into laughter as Sapnap curiously pressed the massager all over his foot and toes. The sensation wasn’t as intense as the hairbrush, but it was driving him crazy.

“Fuck!”.

“It works pretty well!”. George shook his head through his laughter.

“That feels crazy!!”, he yelled.

“Look, Dream because they are a little pointy I have to be careful, but his ticklish little foot is totally freaking out!”.

“Shut up!!!”, George cried. Sapnap teased the shampoo massager across all of his toes, making him squeal.

“Be nice, Georgie.”, Dream warned and squeezed both of his thighs a few times to make him scream.

“Please!! Dream, fuck!”.

His thighs trembled in fear of another attack. Dream dusted his fingertips against them teasingly to make him jump. Sapnap paused his movements, watching curiously.

“I won’t get them too bad. Not before the massage gun.”, he purred. George shivered at the memory and glanced over where the device was charging. He whimpered.

Without warning, Sapnap teased the shampoo massager back down George’s sole and he squealed loudly.

“I wanna try!”, Dream said as he hopped up and moved to the bottom of the bed near Sapnap.

“No…”, George whined. Sapnap passed him the massager and he gently pressed it into George’s other sole. The boy giggled hysterically and squirmed. “No!”. Dream laughed and teased it along the wiggly toes.

“We gotta oil up these little piggies more often, huh?”. George threw his head back and cackled, affected by the words. “Oh, he’s such a goner.”.

“Get away!”, he cried through his laughter.

Dream and Sapnap passed the massager back and forth, tickling the bottom of George’s oily feet. When one didn’t have the massager, they would play with his toes or skitter their nails into the soles. Without a way to get used to the feeling, George just lost his mind again to the tickles. His laughter was bubbly and helpless. When he could, he would beg;

“Please!”, he tried. “Guys! No more!”, didn’t help either. “Why?!”, he cried. “Fuck!”, it was too much. He tried everything.

Everything besides what would actually stop them, of course.

~•~

“It’s time for the finale!!!”, Dream exclaimed as he unplugged the massage gun and gestured to it. George shook his head weakly.

“You can’t.”, he insisted.

“George, people use those all the time to massage themselves after working out!”, Sapnap said.

“Give it to one of them then!”, he shot back quickly, making them both laugh.

“You’re such an idiot.”, Dream said fondly and grabbed George’s knee. “Alright Sapnap, where do I press it in?”.

They both ignored George’s frantic squirming and begs for mercy as Sapnap scrolled through directions on his phone.

“Okay, try the muscle above his knee and kind of inner thigh.”.

“Got it!”, Dream said. He turned it on and George yelped in fear.

“Don’t do this to me!!!”, he cried.

As soon as the head of the gun touched his thigh again, he was thrashing against the bed with a silent scream. The pulse of ticklish vibrations went through his entire body and shook him to the core. Dream worked it down to find the most sensitive area and one spot tore a piercing scream from George.

“I’m such a good masseuse.”, Dream muttered amusedly, moving around the gun. A sharp laugh pierced the air as George found his breath. It was quick and loud, almost scaring the two. Mostly, he was just thrashing in silence as the overwhelming tickles took him over. Every laugh that fought its way out was strained and desperate.

He lifted up the gun and watched him carefully. Silently, Dream and Sapnap watched George shake with breathy giggles.

“I hate you guys…”, he managed out. The two grinned at each other; he was fine.

“Okay, anywhere else?”.

“Yeah, try higher up on the inside.”.

George couldn’t find it in himself to fight it, he just let himself scream and fall back into desperate silent thrashing as the vibrating head of the gun shook every nerve in his body. It was so intense in the one spot, it felt like he was being tickled from the inside out. His vision blacked so he squeezed his eyes shut, mind swimming in colors. Sharp cackles escaped him over and over again between his silent screams. This might be the worst tickling he’s ever felt.

~•~

If you asked, George would have no idea how long the two tickle monsters tormented his ticklish thighs with that massage gun. They tickled him out. Definitely.

His outbursts of crazed laughter were more and more spread out until he was just convulsing and gasping.

“Skeppy!”, he squeaked out, finally. And it came to a stop.

George went completely limp against the bed. His legs were still shaking from the vibrations, but he just let it happen. He kept his eyes closed and just let Dream and Sapnap take over for him. He relaxed and caught his breath while they un-cuffed him, put him under the covers, and snuggled up on either side of him.

“Wow Georgie, you really held out.”, Dream said softly. He finally let out a tired little giggle and turned his face into Sapnap’s shoulder in embarrassment. The two laughed at him.

“That was torture…”, he murmured quietly into Sapnap’s shoulder. He tried hiding his grin into the younger’s shoulder since he didn’t have the energy to fight it off.

‘He’s smiling.’, Sapnap mouthed to Dream. They both beamed.

Their adorable best friend. So sweet to trust them with this. Tickled to the brink of death, yet still cuddling with them and giddy. George snaked his hand back and grabbed Dream’s shirt, tugging him closer as he laid his head on Sapnap’s chest. He burned with embarrassment, but just nuzzled in and let himself relax. Dream wrapped around him and soon, he was pressed like he wanted to be between his best friends. The ones who knew him more than anybody. Here, he was home.

Together, they drifted off. Warm and happy. George, still buzzing from the events of the night.

#glass house #lee!georgenotfound #georgenotfound tickle #dream team tickle #dnn tickle #ler!dream #ler!sapnap

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profiteadeveloper · 1 year ago

Video

Forex Scalping EA Robot Bot | Advanced Automated Trading for Rapid Profi...

#forex #forex trading #best scalping ea 2023 #forex robot 2023 #forex ea 2023 #forex scalper #forex signals #forex strategy #forex scalping #forex live #forex bot

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eight-freakin-gids · 6 months ago

Text

Before we get to see the Bloomburrow Commander previews, I want to get my predictions in for what planeswalkers we'll see in the remaining 3 Commander decks as well as what their fursonas will be. Here are some of my considerations, but also a Read More because this got a bit long:

We know for sure each deck is going to have one planeswalker, and we already know Tamiyo is in the Bant group hug deck. The Jace, Nissa, and Liliana we've seen are not in the decks

I don't think we'll be seeing more than one planeswalker card of the same type among all of the set, so I am assuming the precons won't have any other Jace, Liliana, Nissa, or Tamiyo planeswalkers.

I would guess that there will be an effort to keep the color distribution even, so that fans of every color can get at least one planeswalker (though not necessarily a mono-colored one).

I am assuming that the planeswalkers in the precons will not be radically expensive or be multi-format competitive staples. It wouldn't look good for wizards if people bought out precons just to scalp them for chase rares (anymore than that may or may not already be happening, idk)

For the most part, I am trying to keep the fursonas to the animal races we've already seen in the Bloomburrow previews and the story. The exception is if there's a very obvious option that doesn't feel out of place.

I am sticking to planeswalkers who are alive and have not been confirmed to be desparked (despite the fact that they included Tamiyo. I'm already indulging with one prediction, I can't get my hopes up for a new Gideon)

I'm inferring what each precon's strategy is solely by looking at the commander.

Since the Jeskai deck has a 1 power theme, I am predicting we will see a Bird version of Elspeth, Sun's Champion. Specifically, I would guess a dove. This is both something I would really want, but also something I think has a very good chance of happening. After all, the Bloomburrow birds are a chivalric knightly order, so Elspeth will fit right in. Not to mention that as an angel she would be one of the few people able to seamlessly transition to a different all-flying creature type. Sun's Champion is a great card in the format, evidenced by it making it into other precon lists. Theoretically any Elspeth or any 1/1 token producing Planeswalker can fill the role, but I think this is the best option. There is admittedly some anachronism between depicting this card as modern Elspeth while the name references the Theros story, but I think that's something that can be ignored. Look, I just really want to see bird Elspeth, okay?

The RG precon is the only other one with Red, so we gotta have a Red planeswalker here. There aren't a lot of planeswalkers who synergize with this deck's strategy. Daretti only works with half of the deck, and Jaya, Fiery Negotiator isn't doing much aside from making tokens with Prowess. So, I propose Lizardfolk Chanda, either Flamecaller or Fire Artisan. Since the lizardfolk are associated with fire magic, this one's pretty obvious. Chandra, Flamecaller has a sweeper effect which doesn't destroy your indestructible enchantment/artifact creatures (though it can kill your commander, point not in this one's favor). Flamecaller's other loyalty abilities are fine as well. Fire Artisan is very linear, but does function as a card advantage engine. Torch of Defiance isn't too powerful for commander, but I think it sees too much play elsewhere for it to be a good inclusion here.

For the BG squirrels + tokens precon, my pick is Garruk, Primal Hunter as a badger. We haven't seen any badgers in Bloomburrow aside from Hugs, but if anyone deserves to be Big, it's Garruk. A raccoon would also probably work, but wouldn't be my first pick. I choose Primal Hunter specifically because it makes tokens on it plus ability, and can draw cards as well. And, it's among the most played Garruk planeswalkers in the Commander.

We'll see how this post ages in a few days

#magic: the gathering #magic the gathering #mtg

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muttkaa · 7 months ago

Note

For prompts, could I please request some domestic MegAnna fluff? Pls & ty 🙏🏼

But of course!

------

It had been a long while since the Entity had awoken. At first it was slow, people noticing they were getting pulled into fewer and fewer trials. Then it all just...stopped. Gone. No trials. Not for a loooong time.

It was almost like a miracle.

Maybe it died. Maybe it finally choked on its own food and finally died from these repeated games. Whatever happened, they were happy and it can stay dead.

---

Deep and heavy breathing rose from a large woman in bed. Her dark brown hair messy and cowlicked from the wondrous sleep she was getting. No longer living in fear. No longer working to serve some malicious force. Her body stirred a moment, feeling fingertips dance across her scalp. Instinctively she pressed deeper into the touch, only to have a melodic giggle pull her from her sleep.

She blinked away the blur spots, letting the room came back into focus. And the first thing she was greeted with was a beautiful redhead, that only gave her a gentle smile as she continued to massage her fingers through the other's hair.

"Good morning"

Anna stared at her a moment, a delicate smile touching her lips as she closed her eyes again, melting into the other's touch.

"Good morning" she repeated. "When did you wake up?"

"Just a little bit ago. But you were so cute, I couldn't leave"

A small laugh escaped the Russian, pushing herself off the bed to sit up. The blanket slowly dropped from her body; the runner unable to not steal a glance at the tightly muscled skin below.

"What would you like to eat? I think we still have a lot of vegetables from the garden"

Anna slowly maneuvered her way to the edge of the bed, placing firm feet against the wooden for to raise into a stand. Meg followed her action, standing as well.

"Hm... Maybe some bread and jam? I can take out the dried venison too, we can experiment with it. Oh! And some green onion over it~"

The Huntress kept her eyes on her lover as she dressed herself for the day. Her mind and heart captivated day by day as she gets to spend the rest of her life with this woman. Even here, in the Entity's realm, an eternity with her little fox felt like paradise on earth.

The coarse white shirt slipped over her body, then came the worn leather belt and suspenders to keep her pants up. However, as went to go and clasp them, small dainty hands snaked their way around her waist from behind, fastening the clasp easily.

"I am always surprised by how quiet you can be" the older woman turned around, facing her smiling fox with her own charming face. A face the redhead could never resist.

Her small arms wrapped around the others waist, keeping her close as they swayed in place.

"That's why I'm the best~"

A laughed escaped the Huntress, leaning down to press a kiss to the other woman's forehead.

"Always the best."

---

"What game did you say this was again?" her brows furrowed, staring at the bit of parchment between them.

"Tic tac toe. A game from my time"

"Teec tac tooe" the woman chewed over the words in her thick accent, only illiciting a giggle that strummed her heart so wonderfully.

She watched as Meg drew four lines into the paper, and placing an 'X' in the upper right hand corner.

"Now you draw an 'O' in one of the other boxes. The first one to get three in a row wins.

"Ah, strategy game?" she loved strategy games.

"Sure~ a small one"

Brown eyes found the paper once more, her large hand taking the pencil from Meg's to draw an 'O' in the opposite corner. They sat together on the wooden table The Huntress has built in another life. Daylight pouring in from the windows as the two sipped on tea and munched on the delicacies in front of them.

It was easier to find and make food now, now that they weren't fighting for their lives. And with the Entity gone, it seemed that life also breathed into the land. The forest no longer showered in a constant downpour of rain. It saw all four seasons, awakening from a deep sleep.

Today, the sun was bright, the breeze was cool, and the two savored the jam they spent the winter making together.

After a bit of back and forth, Anna tilted her head a moment, circling another O under her other two.

"Ah nice! You won"

"I did?"

"Yes, see? Three in a row~"

Oh, she did see now. It made her smile. She liked this game. Her hands roughly drew another battlespace for them, drawing the same four lines she saw Meg do earlier as the two played again.

---

It was quiet the lazy afternoon. With such beautiful weather, there was no need for the constant hauling and cutting of wood. When the weather got like this, the couple found themselves with idle time just for them. And often times, they used it exactly the way it needed to be, after so long of pain and torment.

Meg rested her body against the larger one of her lover as the two swung delicately in a hammock between two trees. The breeze tickled her hair. She reached up, drawing invisible shapes against the Russian's chest, eyes half lidded in a content and cozy smile.

Anna slowly opened her eyes from their rest, turning her attention to the redhead. Seeing the smile made her crack one of her own.

"What?"

"You're beautiful" Meg reached her hands up, gently letting her fingertips drag against her lover's defined jawline.

Anna closed her eyes once more, leaning into the touch.

"Not as beautiful as you"

The runner only rolled her eyes, shimmying up further to nuzzle her neck into her beautiful lover, and to drink her scent.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm"

It was Anna's turn to raise her hand now. Callouses that once adorned her palm from the hardship of life slowly fading away. She cupped Meg's cheek, rubbing a scarred thumb across the soft and smooth skin.

"So beautiful."

The Huntress' gaze softened, her thumb slowly running over the other's lips, parting them slightly. She watched at her lover closed her eyes, pressing further into her.

"I love your lips. So pink" her thumb traveled across her jawline.

"I love your face, and the spots they have. Like leopard." the softened thumb slowly dragged down her neck and jugular, making Meg shiver against her.

"I love the shape of you, the way your neck connects here to your shoulder. To the collarbone, to here" she placed her large place in the center of Meg's chest plate, feeling her heart beat against the ribcage. Anna also took note of its rapid pace, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Dark eyes lowered, resting them against the face of the woman she loved so much. She was met with bright blue eyes, staring up at her fascinated, and a soft pink blush that decorated along the spotted face she loved dearly.

The blue gaze made her freeze in place. Like a deer. Not many things could captivate her, but her lover's eyes was one of them. So bright. So alluring. So memorizing. She couldn't have looked away even if her life depended on it.

Meg was the one to break the spell, shyly tucking her face against the Russian's neck. Her heart rattled in her ribcage from the sweet nothings she was given. No one had ever made her feel this special. And it was funny to think. She would have never met Anna, two people separated by 100 years, had it not been for the Entity.

Her fingers entertwined with larger ones.

"I love you too" the fox mumbled against the skin of her lover.

It made the Huntress hum in response, idle fingers playing with smaller ones.

She was interrupted when said fingers pulled away, resting on her cheek instead. Anna looked down with a lidded gaze, feeling the lips she went mad over softly place against her own. She kissed her again and again, meeting soft plush lips against her own as the sound of the forest rustled around them.

Slowly, they pulled apart, chest rising and falling as bright shivers illuminated them. It didn't matter how long they'd been together now. Anna could never get tired of the way Meg had control over her heart and body, and how easy it was to send her to the heavens with just a single kiss.

Her arms wrapped tightly around the smaller woman, keeping her close.

"Lisichka" she said absentmindedly.

"Mh?" Meg inquired, eyes still closed as she resumed drawing shapes over her lovers chest.

"Will you stay with me forever?"

A smile encroached on Meg's face.

"Forever and even after that"

The answer had the Huntress' stomach sing and flip.

"Be mine and only mine forever. Until the world collapses and the last star falls from the sky"

To be together like this is one thing. But Anna wanted more. Something she couldn't put into words. She wanted this fox by her side until the sky fell.

At first she was silent, mulling what the other was truly asking her. The soft blush on her face deepened, facing her Huntress once more.

"Anna"

"Mhm?"

"Are you asking me to marry you?"

Marry. The word made the others head tilt. She wasn't sure of this word, but if it meant that the two would be together until the end of time, then yes. She was.

"Will you?"

The color on her fox's face deepened, and she was met with a surprising, passionate kiss. Her body responding on its own, reaching up to cup her face. Her lips parted, feeling her lovers tongue brush against it, allowing herself to be consumed by her little fox.

The two broke the kiss, the need for oxygen over powering their desire. Meg rested her forehead against the Russian's, shakey breaths leaving her as her eyes became glassy with tears.

"Yes, Anna. I want to be yours and only yours forever. Please marry me."

Her delicate fingers held either side of Anna's head, and the Huntress was putty in her hands. She couldn't resist, taking her beloved in for another kiss as her heart sang the melody of her name across the Huntress' body.

---------

MMMMMMM I cannot STAND these two. They are adorable and make my heart sing. I hope you enjoyed this!! What a beautiful way to start my day, with some MegAnna ♥️♥️

#anna the huntress #meg thomas #dbd #meganna #lesbian love #Fluff #I will absolutely jump over a bridge for them #There is no other way

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sashketter · 6 months ago

Text

Close Quarters - Part 1

Summary: Frustrated by the difficulty of gathering intel for the Clone Underground, Captain Rex finds comfort in Senator Riyo Chuchi and her bedroom on Coruscant. The two persuade Echo to join them.

Pairings: Captain Rex x Riyo Chuchi (Rexiyo), Echo x Riyo Chuchi (Echiyo)

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Smut. Porn without Plot. PiV, oral (F receiving). Implied established relationship between Rex and Riyo. Mention of Foxiyo.

Notes: The total word count for the whole fic is around 15k. I hadn’t intended to divide it into parts, but even I had trouble keeping it straight as I was writing it in one giant doc. And given these aren’t popular pairings, I want to keep it short for anyone who wants to dip in without committing to a 10k+ fic. No disrespect meant to Foxiyo, I included it because I prefer the idea of Riyo and the clones as sexually experienced, so a little history helps, and I genuinely believe it motivated The Bad Batch writers to characterize Riyo as a clone rights advocate, i.e. they couldn’t give her Fox because canonically, he’s dead by the time “The Clone Conspiracy” takes place, so they gave her every other clone in the galaxy instead lolol And so, in honor of the Senator’s de facto status as mistress protector of clones, I give you this. I am both deeply sorry for and profoundly proud of it.

Parts 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

Rex hurls his helmet across the room. It bounces off the transparisteel and lands between the sofa and the coffee table. He follows after it and sits with a groan on the lounge chair by the windows.

“Feel better?” Riyo stands on the other side of the room and quirks an eyebrow.

Rex looks up, his anger beginning to burn out, and shakes his head. He rests his elbows on his knees, one bouncing to the beat of his heart, and rubs his scalp with both hands.

The passage of the Defense Recruitment Bill had accelerated the clones’ obsolescence. Disgruntled troopers were leaving the Empire in droves, and Rex and Echo were having trouble reaching them. Public assurances from the Imperial Information Bureau maintained that the clones were free to leave and retire peacefully, but Howzer’s intel suggested otherwise.

Rex needed more information before he could decide on a course of action, which meant he and Echo were spending more time on Coruscant than they had planned. They insisted that Trace’s garage was secure, but after witnessing the violent deaths of Slip and her guards, Riyo was convinced that the only safe place for them was her apartment where no one would dare attempt another attack topside. The clones, for their part, thought it best to stay close to their new ally and protect her from any more assassination attempts. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Echo stands in the doorway and turns to the Pantoran guards flanking it. “Why don’t you two get some grub? Rex and I will be up for a while.” He seals the door shut and keys the lock on the panel as they leave.

Riyo kneels in front of Rex. She brings his wrists down and meets his furrowed face with a gentle gaze. “It was never going to be easy, Rex.”

He searches her soft features for comfort and finds it instantly. He sighs, closes his eyes, and leans forward to meet her forehead. She follows suit and finds his cheek with hers, their noses slotting next to each other. She massages his jaw with both hands and presses her lips to his temples, his cheeks, and his nose before lingering on his lips and finding an open-mouthed kiss.

Rex and Riyo had spent enough nights together that she knew how to soothe him.

Echo looks down, unsure of what to do. He clears his throat to remind them he’s there. “We need to rethink our strategy,” he announces to the air.

Rex moves his lips to Riyo’s cheek with a sigh, steadying his breath. “We need to rest.” A full standard year of building a covert network on his own had started to weigh on the Captain.

“Echo,” Riyo, still kneeling, swivels around to face him while Rex buries his face in her hair and his hands in her waist, “why don’t you take a shower? Rex and I need to—”

“Understood.” Echo eyes the floor and heads down the hall. He’d gotten used to making himself scarce while Rex and Riyo “talked.” Not that he begrudged them their time together — he was happy his brother could find relief with someone like the Senator — but he wishes he could find something similar elsewhere. As it is, his one good hand wasn’t providing nearly enough comfort, and he didn’t dare venture out into the lower levels while clone deserters were still being hunted down.

Echo takes his time in the fresher. He’s giving the Captain and the Senator their space, but he’s also enjoying the clean facilities. The Marauder wasn’t equipped with a lavatory, and the Batch rarely stayed at any one location long enough to secure ready washrooms. They often had to make do with the sink at Cid’s Parlor or otherwise incur another charge per hour to use her shower. Echo was just glad he didn’t have to rush.

When he finishes and exits the fresher, he finds the usual arrangement: pillows and blankets piled on the lounge chair by the window, a tray of food on the dining table, and Rex and Riyo confined behind her bedroom door. The apartment is quiet for now, but Echo knows their muffled sounds will float down the hall soon. Rex always assures him that they try to keep quiet, and Echo always assures Rex that Fives had been worse. They both know that all clones are accustomed to being within sight and earshot of each other’s trysts — unpredictable leaves and voracious appetites had often made every nook and cranny of every Republic base a hotbed for all kinds of sexual activity — but they make the effort to respect each other’s privacy anyway.

After eating quickly, Echo arranges his bed on the lounge chair, lies down, and stares at the lights dancing across the ceiling, the low drone of Coruscant’s nightlife speeding past in shadows. He hopes he falls asleep soon, but a part of him waits for the telltale sounds of the Senator. He’d gotten to know her moans well in the past few weeks, and given Rex’s agitated state tonight, Echo knows she’ll sound especially pleased. And sure enough, her moans reach his ears not long after his hand had found his shaft and started pumping. He closes his eyes and pieces together several scenes.

Riyo on her hands and knees as Rex slams his hips into her haunches. Rex flat on his back as Riyo grinds her hips into his pelvis. Riyo on her back and Rex letting his full weight fall into her with each thrust. Riyo writhing with Rex’s head buried between her thighs.

Echo loses himself in his fantasies. He spits in his hand and finds a rhythm to match Riyo’s moans. He tries to contain his breath, but low groans escape. He’s so focused on release that he misses the sounds from the bedroom stop minutes ago.

“Need a hand?” Riyo’s voice floats soft and light from the end of the hallway.

Echo’s eyes snap open, his hand flies to his side, and he sits up to face her. His feet find the floor, and he tilts forward to hide his erection. “Senator, I-I was, uh… mmm…” He clears his throat, looking for creative inspiration, and finds none.

Rex appears behind Riyo. He’s bare-chested with a Pantoran guard’s purple pants hanging loosely around his waist. He squeezes her side through her silk robe and kisses her cheek before heading towards the kitchen. “Everything alright?” The lilt in his voice and the spring in his step announce his lighter mood.

Echo’s trapped motionless by Riyo’s gaze. She smirks and offers a modicum of relief.

“I apologize, Echo. It must be har— difficult,” embarrassment flashes momentarily on her face, “for you to be here while Rex and I—”

“I-It’s nothing, Senator, really. I-I’m used to it.” He rubs his knee, trying to disperse some of his heat through the cool titanium. “Most clones are.”

“All the same, is there anything I can do?”

Rex chimes in as he crosses from the kitchen, a glass of water in hand. “When was the last time you got any action? You can’t get much time away from Omega and the rest of the squad.” He hands Riyo the glass and extends an arm to the wall, framing her as they face the windows.

The clones had never broached the subject before — their mutual reassurances had always been hurried — and to do so in front of the Senator felt like a slap to Echo’s ego. He’s sure that Rex already knows the answer and is just flexing his newly released frustrations and, evidently along with them, inhibitions. Rex watches him expectantly, waiting for a response. Echo looks down, his face starting to warm red, and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I haven’t had much free time since Skako Minor.”

Riyo looks up at Rex who smirks and nods. She crosses the floor, setting the glass down on the corner of the coffee table, and kneels in front of Echo. She looks up and holds his gaze. “Tell me what you want, Echo.”

His eyes go wide, and his face heats up. “I-I just need some sleep.”

Riyo looks down in his lap and back up to his eyes. “Are you sure that’s all you want?”

“Echo, it’s fine.” Rex sits in the armchair on the other end of the coffee table. “We’ve talked about it. Besides, it wouldn’t be my first time sharing someone with a brother.”

Echo shifts as if slapped, shocked less by Rex’s admission — valuable currency among troopers of the 501st were stories of catching glimpses of the Captain's liaisons — and more by Riyo’s calm demeanor. She watches him carefully. Her face betrays no surprise or apprehension, only a warm and steadying openness.

He had had his fair share of exploits before his capture by the Separatists — his promotion to ARC trooper had been accompanied by an increased interest in his downtime — but never with a politician, someone with enough power to render his life moot with a few well-placed words. He pries his eyes from the Senator and addresses the Captain. “Fives?”

Rex nods. “Mm-hmm, a few times. I’m surprised he never roped you into—”

“He tried, but I could never get it up.” Echo matches Rex’s candor, his annoyance flaring into bravado. Rex clocks the shift and smirks.

“If it makes you feel any better, Echo,” Riyo rests her hands on his knees, “it wouldn’t be my first time with a few clones. I got to know Commander Fox and a few others from the Coruscant Guard pretty well.”

Rex scoffs. “What do you say, trooper? Let’s show her how the 501st did things better than the Corries ever could.”

Without averting her eyes from the clone in front of her, Riyo speaks up. “Rex, why don’t you clean up while I play with Echo for a while? Join us when we’re ready.”

Rex hums and stands up, giving a curt two-finger salute to Riyo’s back. “Sir, yes, sir.” He disappears down the hall.

“Think you can warm me up for our Captain, Corporal?” Her hands start to travel up his thighs.

Echo tries to smile but is still unconvinced. He raises his scomp link. “Not sure I’ll be up to the task with this.”

Riyo wraps her fingers around his rotating end and shakes her head. “That’s not a problem.” She leans up and meets his mouth with a kiss that knocks Echo breathless.

It had been longer than he could remember since he last met lips as soft as the Senator’s. He yields to her pressure, her motions sure and firm. She brings gentle hands to his jaw and prods her tongue to the seam of his lips. He groans at the contact, opening his mouth and melting instantly into hers. He didn’t realize how much he’d missed just the simple act of kissing, damp and balmy and inviting. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her up into his lap. He breaks from her mouth and groans when she lands on his hard shaft.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” she puts her weight on her knees and backs up to sit on his, “did I hurt you?”

“No, it’s just,” he tries to shift their bodies but to no avail, “uncomfortable.”

Not that the sensations of his hardening cock or tingling skin at the Senator’s touch had changed with his cybernetics and prostheses. Those still felt the same and were all the more comforting for their familiarity. He’d had enough time in his new body by now to know its weight and movements and limitations, but he hadn’t tested out sex with his new shins and scomp link. The few times the Batch had had enough downtime to entertain their appetites all occurred during the war when he was still unsure of himself. Rex was right: Omega had shifted their priorities in ways he hadn’t anticipated and prepared for. He could fight his way through countless battle droids and bounty hunters without hesitation, but he faltered at the thought of sex with the Senator.

Riyo giggles, her cheeks turning lilac, and stands up, taking his hand. “Let’s get more comfortable in the bedroom.”

Echo hears the shower running as they pass the fresher. The bedroom ahead glows blue and white in the darkness, Coruscant’s nightlife continuing to cast its fluorescence through the large windows. The bedsheets are strewn, and as the door hisses shut, he can smell the faint scent of sex lingering in the air, a mix of sweat and cum and Rex’s musk and Riyo’s perfume. She turns around and guides Echo by the hand to sit at the foot of the bed. She kneels between his legs and starts to run her hands up the insides of his thighs.

“S-Senator, I’m not sure—”

“You can call me Riyo, Echo, please.”

“Riyo,” he swallows hard, “I-I’m not sure I can,” he inhales deeply and steadies his breath, “perform a-as well as I used to. I haven’t— since the war, I-I haven’t…”

“It’s okay,” she soothes, pressing her forehead to his and ghosting the rest over his lips. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I’ll take whatever you give. But,” her hands had found their way to Echo’s fly and freed his turgid cock from his trousers, “can I at least help you with this?” She gives him two slow pumps, and he heaves a long, satisfied sigh.

“Yes, please,” he growls desperately.

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