#but by then i had already done the whole upper half like totally covered so

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

i didnt really think to check whether i had those colours embroidery thread before i started but i think it came out alright anyway

[theladyofdeath]

Heels {Rowaelin}

The prompt: walks in front of their crush in stripper heals and a short skirt because they want their attention

Rowan x Aelin os

Written with @snelbz​

There was no way this could be a good idea.

Aelin was sitting on her bed, watching as Lysandra flicked through her closet. She had told her that tonight was the night and had recruited her to help her do what she considered nearly impossible.

She was going to get the attention of Rowan Whitethorn.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know she existed, it was quite the opposite. He was one of her friends, having met during orientation week their freshman year, and as their group grew, so did their friendship. But after three and a half years, she had very solidly gotten her stuck as just that: his friend.

“You’re wasting your time,” Aelin crooned, flipping through the timeline on her phone. 

“Bullshit,” Lysandra muttered, flipping through the clothes in her closet. “You need to feel confident, Aelin. Rowan is obsessed with you, and you’re obsessed with him. This whole thing is ridiculous.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, but remained quiet. 

“How about this?” Lysandra asked, pulling out a denim mini skirt and black halter cropped top. As Aelin was about to reply, Lysandra said, “Say nothing. Put it on.”

With a roll of her eyes, yet again, Aelin did as much. Once she had the skirt and top on, she looked in the mirror. 

And she looked hot as hell.

“Shoes?” Aelin asked, despite herself. 

“Oh, I have the perfect heels,” Lysandra said, fleeing from the room. She came back a moment later with a pair of black stilettos that were Aelin’s  size. 

Scoffing, Aelin held them up. “I’m going to break my neck.”

Lysandra snorted and flounced back into the bathroom where she continued to straighten her hair. “You’re exaggerating.”

“Fine,” Aelin amended. “I’m going to break my ankle.” She set the shoes on her bed and joined Lysandra in the bathroom to finish getting ready.

She let Lysandra curl her hair, but drew the line when she offered to do her makeup. They had very different styles when it came to that and while Lysandra looked drop dead gorgeous with her cat-eye liner and ruby red lips, Aelin would never be able to pull it off.

“Where is this party even at?” Lysandra asked, pulling her hair back into a stylish ponytail.

“Lorcan’s.” Aelin was trying to keep her hand steady as she applied the thin line of liquid eyeliner to her upper lid. “I think Elide convinced him to throw it.”

Lysandra snorted, applying her mascara.  “Sounds right. Lorcan isn’t exactly the host-type.”

Aelin grinned, tossing her eyeliner in her makeup bag. “Alright, hurry up. I want to make my entrance.”

With a roll of her eyes, Lysandra took one last look in the mirror and declared herself ready and they were off.

Lorcan’s apartment was just on the edge of campus, so the two girls walked and earned the eager glances of many as they did so.

Aelin took it as a good sign.

“Will Aedion be here tonight?” Lysandra asked, shooting a glance over at Aelin.

She groaned. “Probably.” She still couldn’t believe that her roommate actually had the hots for her cousin. He was practically her brother and the thought of him in any sort of compromising position made her want to gag. “If you hook up with him tonight, please do it at his place. I can’t afford therapy on my barista’s salary.”

“Trust me,” Lysandra said, adjusting her ponytail as they approached the steps to Lorcan’s. “I plan on giving you complete privacy at the apartment tonight. And you better take advantage of it.”

Butterflies grew in the pit of Aelin’s stomach. 

She planned to, hoped to, wanted to…but, she had to catch Rowan’s eye first - something that made her nerves go haywire. 

Lysandra must have caught it, because they stopped outside of Lorcan’s door and Lysandra made Aelin face her. 

“You look gorgeous,” she said, and brushed Aelin’s hair back. “He’d be an idiot not to come after you.”

That was the goal, after all. Aelin was not going to be the one doing the chasing. She wanted Rowan to see her, want her, not be able to take his eyes off of her. She knew he’d be here, the party was at his best friend’s apartment, knew that everyone from their friend group would show up. Yet she was absolutely fucking terrified he’d see her and have zero reaction.

She played it off with a joke though. Scoffing, she tossed her hair over a shoulder. “He’d better. I didn’t book an emergency appointment with my waxer for nothing.”

If Lysandra noticed the fake bravado — which she absolutely did, she and Aelin had become as close as sisters over the past three years — she didn’t call her out on it. Instead, she smirked, smacked Aelin on the ass, and said, “Then let’s go get your man.”

The music could be heard from a block away, and when they opened the front door, the apartment was already packed.

People definitely noticed them come in, though, including Elide who was running towards them, a drink in hand. “It’s about time you two showed up!”

“The host himself isn’t here to greet us?” Aelin mocked, giving Elide a hug.

Elide chuckled as she rolled her eyes. “He’s been out on the balcony for about a half hour, avoiding all human interaction.”

“Sounds about right,” Lysandra replied, rolling her eyes, but then she began looking around the spacious townhouse Lorcan and Elide shared. “You haven’t seen Aedion tonight, have you?”

Elide gave Aelin a knowing glance, but said, “Last I saw, he was playing beer pong with Fenrys. Don’t know who the poor bastards getting their asses handed to them were, but they’re probably still in the kitchen.”

Lysandra gave Aelin a wink. “Good luck.” And then she was gone, lost in the bodies dancing to the music.

Her part in tonight was done, to help Aelin get Rowan’s attention. It was all up to Aelin now, so Lysandra was free to find someone to occupy her own time. Even if the thought of who she’d be with made Aelin want to shudder.

Alone with Aelin, or as close to it as they could be, Elide let out a low whistle as she finally took in Aelin’s outfit. “I have a feeling that outfit isn’t just to impress me.”

“Does that mean you’re not impressed?” Aelin asked, pretending to pout. 

Elide looped her arm through Aelin’s and led her to the bar. “I’m always impressed, but I don’t think you care so much about my opinion, do you?”

Aelin snorted as she began to look around, but Elide saved her the struggle.

“He’s on the patio with Lor,” Elide said, simply. “Don’t worry. I’ll drag his ass back in here soon and Rowan will follow.”

Elide poured them both a shot, which Aelin gladly took and even asked for another. But when Manon and Asterin Blackbeak showed up, she waved Elide off to go greet her friends, and leaned against the bar, debating on a third shot.

She wasn’t trying to get shitty tonight, just a little messy, but her nerves were beginning to grow again.

Just as she decided to say fuck it, and get another shot, and heard a whistle from behind her. She turned and found Dorian Havilliard staring at her legs.

Or maybe he was staring at her ass.

They had messed around her freshman year, when his dorm room was just down the hall from hers, but it had never been anything more than that between them, and they agreed that they were better as friends. It didn’t mean they didn’t have fun though.

She smirked as she tossed the glass back and set it down on the bar top, before turning to him. “See anything you like?”

“I see quite a few things I like,” he said, raising his drink in salute. “Then again, only a fourth of your skin is covered, so there’s a lot to look at.”

Aelin laughed, quietly, and clinked her empty shot glass against his full bottle. “Gotta show off what the gods gave me.”

“As you should,” he agreed with a wink. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

“Well, it is school, and I actually study,” Aelin said, turning to refill her shot glass.

Dorian had the audacity to look offended. “Hey, I study, too.”

Aelin laughed as she turned back around. “Reading a bunch of books that have nothing to do with any of your classes doesn’t count as studying, Dor.”

“But they’re so much more interesting,” he replied, chuckling as he thought of the boring curriculum he studied for his pre-law degree.

Aelin rolled her eyes as she tossed back the shot and set it behind the bar. Four shots was enough. She’d be fun, she’d be confident, but she wasn’t tipsy enough to make an ass of herself.

Yet.

“I assume all of this skin isn’t for me, so who are you trying to impress?” Dorian asked, and then added, with a wink, “Chaol?”

Huffing a laugh, Aelin shook her head. “Absolutely not. That ended in a disaster and I’m not inclined to repeat it.”

The sliding glass door opened and Aelin’s eyes snapped to the door, before she quickly turned away before Lorcan and Rowan stepped inside.

“Oh,” Dorian chuckled, softly. “Whitethorn then.”

It wasn’t a question.

He had moved imperceptibly closer and she knew how it would look to Rowan. For whatever reason, she decided she wanted him to be jealous she was talking to another guy.

Even if she had no idea whether or not he’d even noticed her.

“Is this who I am now?” Dorian asked, quietly, leaning into her ear, fully aware that it looked like he was coming onto her. “Your super hot wingman?”

Aelin snorted, and didn’t bother moving away. “My overly cocky wingman, maybe.”

Dorian huffed a laugh. “I still take it as a compliment.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be flirting up Manon instead of fake flirting with me?” Aelin whispered, quietly. She glanced at Rowan, who was filling up a red solo cup.

“I like to make Manon wait,” Dorian said, running a finger up Aelin’s forearm. “She gets jealous, too, and it makes things so much more exciting in the bedroom.”

“Thanks for the image, Dor,” Aelin said, pushing away the need to roll her eyes and flick him in the nose.

He and Manon weren’t exclusively in a relationship, but everyone knew they hooked up with each other, and only each other. But, again, totally not exclusive.

“Besides,” Dorian mused, his finger skimming Aelin’s arm. “She’s busy doing body shots with Asterin. I’ll enjoy her later.”

Aelin snorted, reaching behind the bar and pulling an ice cold beer from the open cooler. She handed it to him and he opened it for her, flicking the cap in the air as if it were a coin.

He let it fall to the bar top as he leaned in to whisper in her ear one last time. “Pretty sure that’s my cue.”

She followed his gaze across the room, and found Rowan looking at her. Watching her and Dorian both.

“Have fun,” he added, before sauntering off towards the kitchen.

Rowan watched Dorian walk away to the other side of the room where he sat to watch Aedion and Fenrys continue to dominate in beer pong.

When Rowan’s eyes trailed back to Aelin, she was already watching him, a slightly-forced mischievous smile on her lips.

On the inside, she felt like she was going to puke.

He made his way across the room, pausing in front of her and slipped his free hand into his pocket. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” she said, and she wasn’t sure why it sounded so breathless.

“I didn’t see you get here,” he said, taking a sip of his beer.

She did the same, fighting the urge to toss her hair over a shoulder. “You were outside.” She realized that told him she was keeping tabs on him and she quickly added. “I mean, Elide told me Lorcan was outside, so I assumed you had to be with him.”

He smirked. “Right. Well, I was. It’s a little crowded in here.” She nodded, but he went on. “However, seems like you didn’t mind when Havilliard was over here with you. Not too crowded for you, then, huh?” 

Aelin slowly lifted a golden brow. If Rowan wanted to play, she would play. “Not crowded enough for someone to be blocking your view of me with Dorian, apparently.”

A light lit up Rowan’s green eyes as his jaw twitched, suppressing a grin. “I can always count on you to manipulate my words and their meaning, Galathynius.”

Aelin’s grin was wide. “Someone has to keep you in your place, Whitethorn.” 

“And is that you?” He asked, voice low as he took a drink from his cup. “The person that’s going to keep me in my place?”

Aelin’s eyes glittered as she took another drink. It was always easy with Rowan. They could talk for hours, that witty banter, back and forth. But, that’s all that had ever happened between them: simple conversation. 

From the way she caught him watching her legs as she took a drink, though, she thought tonight may just end up as she planned.

A hell of a lot more than simple conversation.

“Want to dance?” She asked.

His eyes slowly slid up her body to meet her gaze. “You know I don’t dance, Ace.”

She took a long, slow drink from her bottle. “Not even with me?”

“Not with anyone,” he said, crossing his arms and resting a hip against the bar.

It was a miracle no one had interrupted them, but the bulk of the drinks had been set up in the kitchen.

“That’s a shame,” Aelin sighed, finishing off her beer and tossing the empty bottle in the trash can. “I would love to dance, but I don’t have anyone to dance with.”

Rowan said, “I’m sure you can find someone, especially with how you’re dressed tonight.”

She raised an eyebrow and looked at him. “And how is that?”

“Don’t get me wrong, you look drop dead fucking sexy,” he replied, without missing a beat. “I just don’t get why.”

“What do you mean?” Aelin asked.

“Why try so hard?” He asked, head cocked to the side. “Who are you trying to impress?”

Cocky bastard. She could see it in his eyes, he knew what he was doing and she hated him for it.

Hated that she loved it, anyway.

“What need would I have to impress anyone?” Aelin asked, chin raised. “I think I’m naturally perfect in every way.”

Rowan chuckled. “Then you should’ve come in your sweatpants and a tank top.”

Aelin rose a brow.

Rowan shrugged. “I think that’s when you’re sexiest.”

With that, with his cup pressed to his lips, he turned and walked away.

Aelin blinked after him, not sure she was sure she heard him right. He made his way through the people and headed back to the door leading out onto the balcony, stopping to say something to Lorcan. He waved him off and then Rowan was slipping back outside, while Aelin just started after him.

She pushed her way through the crowd, which was easier said than done when you weren’t a six-foot-four giant who mildly scared the shit out of everyone by scowling at them, but she eventually made it to the door. Sliding it open, she stepped out into the balmy night air.

“You can’t say shit like that and then just disappear,” Aelin said, finding him exactly how she’d expected to.

Rowan was leaned against the wall, the sole of one booted foot pressed against it as well. A lit cigarette dangled from his fingers. She gave him shit about smoking all the time, but knew he only did it when he drank.

Or when he had something on his mind.

He held the cigarette out to her, but she gave him a look. “You know better than to offer me that.”

Rowan just grinned and put it back between his lips. “You’re missing the party.” 

“What did you mean?” Aelin asked, standing opposite of him, leaning against the railing. 

“When?” he asked, looking up at the sky.

“Don’t bullshit me, Rowan,” she snapped, and it got his attention. 

Blowing a puff of smoke into the cool night air, he met her gaze and slowly shook his head. He gestured to her outfit, to the heels that were making her feet ache. “What is this?”

“They’re clothes,” she said. “For a party.”

“They’re Lysandra’s,” he replied, simply. 

“I can’t wear my roommate’s clothes?” Aelin scoffed. “What the hell is wrong with you tonight-.”

“Why can’t you just admit that you’re just trying to impress someone?” he interrupted, watching her, that light in his eye fading. “You’ve never been not-confident a day in your life. Whoever it is that you’re trying to impress, he obviously isn’t worth it if it causes you to be someone you’re not.”

Aelin looked down at the cropped halter top, the skirt that hardly reached her thighs, the heels that she was certain would cause blisters. “This is someone I’m not?”

Rowan slowly shook his head. “Last time we went out, you wore that little golden slip dress….” He shook his head, reminiscing on the memory. “That was you. You wore sneakers and you were still barefoot halfway through the night, dancing on the patio. What you’re wearing now - yeah, you look gorgeous - but I can tell you’re not comfortable in it.” 

“If I’m trying to get someone’s attention, maybe my usual isn’t best. Especially if it pushes me out of my comfort zone,” she snapped back, her hands on her hips. “And why is it such a problem if I’m trying to impress someone? Dorian was impressed.”

“Dorian doesn’t drool all over you like a dog in heat,” he replied. “He respects you, regardless of what you’re wearing, how much skin you’re showing off. But if you’re trying to impress some D bag who will only notice you if you’re dressed like that, you might want to reconsider.”

“And what if I was trying to impress you?” She asked, getting in his face, cigarette smoke and whiskey breath be damned. “What if I was trying to get your attention, Rowan?”

His jaw locked and his eyes searched hers, as if he was trying to find the underlying meaning in what she was saying, even if there wasn’t one. 

“Then you’d be wasting your time,” he said, at last.

It felt like a knife had been shoved into Aelin’s ribs with every word that had come out of his mouth. Begging herself not to cry in front of him, she went to take a step away, but Rowan grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him.

Their chests were nearly touching, and his hand trailed from her wrist, into her hand, interlocking his fingers with hers.

He took the cigarette from his lips and said, “You’d be wasting your time because you impress me every time that I’m around you.”

“You never act like it,” she breathed, shaking her head. “You never do anything, and you’ve never tried to make a move. What the hell else was I supposed to do?”

He flicked the cigarette over the rail and let go of her hand, only to frame her face with both of his. “This.”

And then his lips were on hers, and Aelin didn’t care that she could taste residual smoke or stale beer. She knew she didn’t taste much better. All that mattered was that Rowan was kissing her and his hands were on her face and hers were tangled up in his shirt. His tongue slid against hers and she had to fight to stop the moan that threatened to slip out of her.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. “That,” he said, breathlessly. “That is what you should have done to get my attention.”

Aelin swallowed, harshly. “Do it again.”

Rowan didn’t have to be convinced. His hands slid down her back as he brought his mouth to hers, and he pulled her body uptight against his. They stayed out there for a long time, for hours, uninterrupted. 

At one point, she saw Dorian come by and lock the balcony door, so everyone else would get the hint to stay the hell away.

Wingman of the year.

They stayed on the balcony, kissing and laughing and kissing some more, until the party wound down. Around two, Lorcan let them inside, and Aelin pulled Rowan out of the apartment and across campus to her own. 

True to Lysandra’s word, she was nowhere to be found.

The second Aelin stepped into her apartment, she kicked off her heels and was swept into Rowan’s arms. He carried her into her bedroom, where he stripped her down, out of her roommate’s clothes.

Rowan Whitethorn saw all of her.

She had his full attention. 

[cherryatiny]

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲! 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑦 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑡 (𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡) 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑠

𝐺𝐼𝐹𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑠

⩥ 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠

„Are you done, baby?“ Resonated the voice of your sugar daddy Hongjoong from outside the luxurious bathroom you were dressing up in. As you were finishing putting on dark red matte lipstick - the last detail of your makeup to decorate your perfect image, you opened the door and stepped outside into the wide hallway of his house.

Hongjoong was taking you out tonight. He had to use this opportunity of the only performance the worldwide famous soprano singer had in your city.

Coming out of the bathroom, you were wearing the black satin gown made by the best French tailors, Hongjoong bought for you when he was staying in Paris last week. It was as if the dress was made for you and you only, perfectly accentuating every curve you wanted to show off.

„Gosh, you look like an angel who fell straight from the sky, beautiful. Words can't explain how pleased I'm to accompany a lady this charming. Ladies first, we should get going to the philharmonic orchestra, shall we?“

Hongjoong bowed a little as he saw you, holding out his hand for you to take. A true gentleman. Going outside the luxurious mansion, a limousine was already waiting for you two in front of his grand house.

If there was anything Hongjoong loved more than you, it was spoiling you with everything you wanted, so when he heard that the primadonna you were fond of, was going to sing in your city, he had to buy the tickets with the best seats for you two.

Walking down the red carpet, straight to the VIP lounge of the philharmonic orchestra. Leaving your purse on one of the hangers, along with the coat Hongjoong helped you to take off, you sat down on one of the two velvet sofas there were, as Hongjoong did the same next to you.

The waiter who was previously waiting by the door came up to you two, a bottle of red wine from the best French winery in his hand as he poured you two a glass.

Throughout the concert Hongjoong’s hand never left its place on your upper thigh, your one, on top of his, fingers playing with the rings he had on.

However, the concert was kind of forgotten as you two just peacefully enjoyed the presence of each other.

The sound of a steak being grilled, vegetables being roasted, the tastiest smell of the chocolate lava cake that was being baked only added to the sight of your handsome sugar daddy Seonghwa, as you two enjoyed your time together in his black & white marble kitchen.

You were sitting on a kitchen counter, watching Seonghwa who had his back facing you as he stirred the vegetables, however, your mouth wasn't wetting at the vegetables, but the immaculate sight of his broad shoulders in the white shirt.

It wasn't a problem for Seonghwa to afford any 5-star Michelin restaurant or rent the best chef in the country to cook for you, but it didn't have the same atmosphere, nor was it a gesture that came straight out of his heart, like cooking for you himself was.

As he turned off the stove, he served the meal on pretty ceramic plates with golden lining. Pouring champagne into a fancy glass and dropping some strawberries into it, Seonghwa picked you up, your legs wrapped around his waist, and arms around his neck to not fall, he seated you on a dining chair in front of the glass dining table

Flashing him a smile, you dipped your tongue into the bitter alcoholic liquid, cutting the vegetables and the meat on your plate, you put some of it into your mouth, the tasty food melting on your tongue.

Like seriously, is there something this man is bad at? He is the most lovable person you know, he's smart, he's handsome, he can cook, and he can definitely bring you a lot of enjoyable moments in bed...

„Enjoy the dinner, beautiful. I hope you’ll like what I’ve cooked for you and don’t get too full, because there are also some desserts waiting for you.“

You laughed at his flirty comment because you knew the chocolate cake wasn’t the only dessert waiting for you tonight.

⩥ 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨

Spoiling his sugar baby, buying expensive clothing and accessories for her, or just spending money on her in general, was probably Yunho’s favourite activity. So when he was scrolling down different blogs trying to look for some place to take you to next a photo of Milan in Italy popped up.

Travelling there wasn't a problem as your sugar daddy Yunho owned a private jet ready to take him wherever he pleased. And before you could say anything, you were already laying in a king-sized bed with a tray full of different types of breakfast food, because in Yunho's opinion there was no better way to start a day than with a tasty breakfast in bed.

Laying next to you, he fed you crepes with fruits, pouty smile showed up on his face as he saw how much you seemed to have enjoyed the food he ordered for you, his hand tucking your hair behind your ears so it didn't get to you face as you ate.

After the breakfast you had to take a shower because let's say, there just wasn't much energy left to shower the night before. And as you finished showering an outfit Yunho prepared for you was already waiting there, since you two were supposed to go out today and do some shopping for the next week's ball Yunho was taking you to.

And there came his favourite part of this day - shopping. It wasn't a coincidence he chose Milan for your trip, since it was a city of fashion you two adored that much. Shops like Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, or Versace, you name it. Yunho's hand found your as you two intervened fingers and headed your way through the beautiful city.

„Princess, take this dress as well. I’m sure it'll look amazing on you, this shade of blue is totally your colour.“

You know, when shopping with Yunho, everyone would feel like the prettiest person alive, he won't stop hyping you up or complimenting you as you show yourself off in different robes. The current blue satin robe, that was accentuating your curves went perfectly with the clear high heels with diamond straps that adorned your ankles. However, the diamonds on the straps weren't that shining as the ones in Yunho's eyes when he looked at you in awe.

„Oh god, no words needed, we must get you this dress, it's just so... perfect on you baby. Now… what do you think of us going shopping for lingerie and you give me another private fashion show afterwards?“

⩥ 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠

After you got into a sugar daddy type of relationship with Yeosang, you learned the difference between secret and private relationship. Even though people knew you two were in some kind of relationship, no one knew what it was about and apart of that, Yeosang liked to keep things rather private and just between the two of you. So the best dates in his opinion were the dates where you two weren't in public and could be just by yourself, which was quite difficult to carry out considering your busy schedules.

„Good evening, Mr. Kang. Your table is ready, the restaurant is closed down as usual, so you two could dine and enjoy each other in private.”

Said the young waitress, who was here always at the times you two came.

Showing you the way wasn't necessary as you always took the same table. The one right next to the glass wall with a panorama of the city covered in the dark, shining lights that decorated the evening in the streets.

You usually just stood there quietly for a few minutes, while the best cooks in the city prepared your meal. A glass of red wine, in one of Yeosang’s hands and the second one, wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him. At this point, dinner at this restaurant was like a ritual, always keeping your schedule free for a few hours on a friday evening no matter what.

Every friday, Yeosang would reserve the whole restaurant for two hours, just so you two can eat in private, and spent the time talking and enjoying each other's presence.

„The view today is magnificent, the lights are shining bright, not as impressive as my girl though, but it's still very beautiful.”

Giving you a soft peck on your cheek, Yeosang's hand motioned for you to sit down on the leather chair with soft cushions, and talk to him about your week while enjoying your favourite food with the best man in the world.

⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧

„Gosh, princess come on, why does it always take you so long to pack when we go somewhere, it isn't like you're gonna wear something half of the time though. I told you that you don’t need to bring anything, I’ll buy you anything you need when we get there, so please hurry up already...”

You couldn't quite understand why San was being so impatient to leave when the jet you were flying by was his, therefore, it probably wouldn't be that much of a problem if you came a few minutes late, but you still listened and obeyed his complaints, zipping up the luggage you decided to take with you.

Turning around, your eyes fell on the already impatient figure of you sugar daddy San, the unbuttoned top buttons of his white linen shirt exposed how in shape he was, sometimes making you wonder why he hadn't become a model with a face and body like that, but when you came to think about that, if he were famous, he wouldn't have been yours...

San needed a well-deserved rest at some peaceful place for a while, since his job was stressing him out so much, and there wasn’t a better rest than a week on a private island with his beautiful sugar baby. And since you already finished your semester, there wasn't a problem with you leaving for two weeks.

His limousine along with a driver, with who you were well acquainted, was already outside his mansion, waiting to take you to the airport. San, like the true gentleman he was, immediately took the luggage out of your hand and opened the door of the limo for you.

Throughout the drive to the airport, you were sitting on the back seat next to him, your head on his shoulder and his fingers playing with your hair.

You fell asleep on the way to the airport since San for some unknown reason woke you up at 5 fucking am, and San just couldn't help but admire how beautiful you looked as you were in the peaceful state occupied daydreaming. And because of that, he didn't have the heart to wake you up, so as you two arrived at the airport, his strong arms picked you up close to his chest as he carried you to the jet bridal style.

⩥ 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢

Seeing the impact your overly stressful work had on you lately, Mingi couldn’t leave you to suffer and cope with it by yourself, that’s why he had to come up with a way to help you relax, and there wasn't a better way to make you relax than to take you to a luxurious spa resort in mountains.

He wanted to dedicate you a week full of massages, swimming pools, jacuzzis, saunas and of course himself. While you two were there, Mingi had carefully planned out your daily routines, so you can get as much relaxation as possible.

According to his in your opinion completely unnecessary schedule, it was time for a good massage. But for real, what was the point of creating a timetable, when you could just be spontaneous. However, it was still really cute and thoughtful of him.

The male masseur hasn't even massaged you for more than five minutes, when Mingi told him off, jealous at having to watch the way the male's strong arms rubbed on your bareback rather inappropriately in his eyes. And that was why Mingi was currently massaging scented oil into your skin, certain that he'll do better than the male masseur because he knows what's the best for his princess.

His hands roamed all over your body, not leaving any part of it untouched, and by that time, you both knew that it wasn't just a massage to relieve stress anymore. He tried to hold himself back to not tug at the towel that covered your bottom half from him, his eyes drifted to the wet swimsuit you previously had on when you two went swimming.

„Princess, what do you think of jacuzzi right now? You know, the one that's outside on our balcony, we could watch as the snowflakes fell onto the ground, while mountains covered us from the sun, while enjoying the hot water and bubbles. And since it’s private I don’t think there would be any need to wear a swimsuit…”

⩥ 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠

„Mr. Jung, here’s the virgin mojito for you and Ms. Y/L/N” interrupted the waiter you and your sugar daddy Wooyoung in a conversation full of teasing and sexual tension. Poor boy, the awkward discomfort visible on his face. You two smiled at him and took the drink he handed you „Hmm, virgin mojito, just like the first time we met, well except for the virgin part...“

You two were laying on the couchette, the beach umbrella keeping you safe before the piercing sun rays. You cringed at the reference about your virginity from the first time you two met in the club. „Oh my god, Wooyoung can you not-“

Looking at him in disbelief through the expensive sunglasses you had on, you both fell into a burst of deep laughter at the memories from a few months ago that were flooding back. Taking a sip from the cold drink in your hand, you eyed the people that were playing around on the beach or in the sea.

„Wanna go swimming, princess?“ giving Wooyoung a side-eye, you pondered over his idea, without any word being said you stood up from the couchette and made your way to the sea. Looking back you saw Wooyoung still sitting there under the umbrella watching you in the distance.

„You going or not?“ and with that, he ran over to where you were, a mischievous smile on his face as he picked you up unexpectedly, running with you deeper into the water, „Jung Wooyoung, if you throw me into the water, I'll fucking kill you.“

⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨

Opening the massive door of your sugar daddy Jongho’s penthouse, with the golden entrance card e gave you, you stepped into the marble hallway. His housekeeper took the purse from your hand and helped you take off the coat you had on.

And as you arrived in the living room, he was already waiting for you there, his eyes shining brighter than the beaming smile he had on when he was you standing there in all your glory. You two haven't seen each other for almost two months he spent abroad.

And as soon as you caught the look in his eyes, you ran towards him, not wanting to wait any longer until you can finally hug him. Jongho's strong arms effortlessly picked you up as your legs wrapped around his waist to get closer than possible to him as you hugged him, probably squeezing the soul out of him.

„Baby, I’ve missed you so much, my pretty little princess, I promise to never leave you for this long, every day I had to spend without you was like a punishment. And the guilt I felt for neglecting you was eating me alive, that’s why I had to bring you some gifts to make it up for you. Come on, let me show you.”

You pecked the tip of his nose as you always did, the look in your eyes telling him that you felt exactly the same without him, allowing him to take you wherever he wanted. Not letting you go out of his arms that held you up, he took you to the guest room of his penthouse.

The one that was usually empty, because you of course always spent the night in his room, when you were staying over. Opening the door of the room for you, you almost fell from his arms as you saw all the designer dresses, shoes or accessories there were. „Jongho, baby, but you didn’t have to buy me anything, I just wanted you to finally be home.”

„Well, then now you not only have me but all of this. I too wanted to get back to you as soon as possible, but you know how much I love spoiling the heck out of you, so buying these things for you helped me overcome the sorrow I felt from not being able to be with you, princess.“

[smol-and-grumpy]

To Be Free - CH01

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Escaping and hiding away, that’s what she wants to do. Her parent’s remote cabin in the mountain sounds like the best place for it. There, she meets someone from her past — a green-eyed mountain man.

Chapter Warnings: A little back story, cheating (not Dean), language, threats being made, car accident

WC: 2481

Beta: @winchest09​ <3

A/N: So, this is the beginning of the Mountain Man!Dean AU. I hope you’ll like it!

Read ahead on Patreon!

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

The phone buzzes on the seat next to her. Again. 

It hasn’t stopped ringing since Y/N had gotten into the car and drove away. She’s so close to just throwing it out of the window but then again, the rational side of her brain tells her that she would endanger the automobiles around her on the highway, and she doesn’t really want to cause any damage, or accidents, if it can be avoided. 

“You’re a goody-goody.” Mick always used to say, “It’ll get you in trouble if you don’t toughen up.” 

Perhaps Mick was right. She probably was not made to work in that firm where she has to help fucking criminals. But then again, he made it seem so plausible and she can’t believe that she fell for it all. Y/N had fallen for the prestige, for the fame, and most of all, she had fallen for Mick, and that was the worst fucking mistake. 

The events of that night flash before her eyes once more. 

It’s 9 PM. Mick usually doesn’t have a reason to work so late unless he has a meeting with the mob family that they have under their wings. She never liked to go to their meetings, always found an excuse to opt out. The way the men always stare at her like she was a piece of meat rather than a woman with a brain, always sent a chill down her spine. 

When she stepped out of the elevator, the floor was dark. There’s only minimal light coming from the reception area that’s vacated at this time of the night. Y/N never liked to be here after hours but it’s the only place she thought she could find Mick. He didn’t pick up his phone when she called him which was highly unusual. Somehow, she was a little afraid of what she would find. It could be him just laughing and joking with the mobsters, but it could also have been him bruised and beaten beyond recognition because the Family wasn’t happy with his work, or it could be worse. He could be dead. Today was his birthday too and she even ordered catering for the both of them to enjoy at home. She guessed that she would have to pop the dishes into the microwave because by the time she decided to check here, it was already starting to turn cold.

Walking further along the hallway, she noticed that the lights in Mick’s office are still on and a sense of relief washed over her, while the sense of dread built up in the pit of her stomach at the same time. 

“Oh god, Mick.” 

There was a faint moan that carried through the hallway of the offices. It made her blood freeze, but it forced her to walk faster.

“Mmh,” she heard Mick humming. “Always so fucking tight for me, Eve. Such a good pussy.” 

“Better than Y/N, I’d hope.” 

Mick chuckled, “I’d rather you not talk about her while I fuck you. You know you’re my best girl, baby.”

The dread in Y/N’s stomach intensified and something began to churn inside of her. She had to clutch it so as not to just hurl out the whole contents into the next pot plant she could find. 

Eve was her friend. Her best friend since she moved into the city two years ago. She was even the one who helped Eve to get a job at her boyfriend’s firm. 

Well, not her boyfriend anymore, she guessed. 

She reached the door, fingers clutched around the frame for purchase as she took in the image before her. Eve was bent over the table, Mick half undressed, fucking into her from behind. 

He threw his head back as he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he turned his head and their eyes met. 

For a brief second, she thought she saw a smirk twisting at his lips when he noticed her. He kept on pounding into Eve, though, his pace never faltered. 

Y/N retreated, tears pooled in her eyes and she moved on autopilot. Before she knew it, she found herself in her office, packing the things that she needed into her laptop bag. 

‘Stupid! So fucking stupid!’ she thought. She should have seen it. Why hadn’t she seen it? The red flags were always there. Mick always gave her assignments that would see her traveling all over the country for a long stretch of time. She would find receipts of hotels laying around in the apartment, or when she did laundry, but he always had a good reason. They hadn’t been intimate for a long time, too. Mick was always too tired and if he wasn’t then she would be. And if that happened, he would get out of bed and said that he needed a drink and was out of the apartment before she could even say anything. She was so engrossed in her work and too oblivious to what was going on, that she ignored all the warning signs. 

She was crying now, the tears not stopping. But it’s not over Mick. She would never cry over a man who had treated her like this. She cried for herself, for being dumb enough to let someone play her. 

Bending down to pack the remainder of her things, she opened her last drawer, revealing a little safe that was neatly tucked inside. Without hesitation, she punched in the combination and it sprang open. It contained a single USB stick. 

Picking it up, she clutched it in the palm of her hand. She had forgotten about the small device and now she knew why Mick kept her around. She was the only person who had a copy of the shady business his clients are doing, because she was involved as much as Mick. He was never going to give her up because if the information got leaked, he'd be taking the fall. 

There were footsteps along the hallway, the thumping sounds getting louder as someone rushed to her office and she quickly let the stick slip into her jean pocket. 

“What are you doing?” he asked too casually but with a bitter undertone, acting like he hadn’t just fucked her best friend. 

“What does it look like?” she snarled, patience wearing thin. “I quit. And don’t even come by my apartment anymore.”

He walked in further; his hair was ruffled and the buttons on his shirt were hastily done up, the material lopsided as he had fastened them wrong. She was so disgusted by his appearance.

Mick rubbed his hand over his chin, carefully thinking about his next words. “I need the USB stick before you leave.” 

She snorted. That’s typical. All he could think about is his fucking business. “I don’t have it.”

“Liar!”

“Oh, look who’s talking.” Maybe, just maybe, she shouldn’t anger him but screw that.

“Y/N.” Mick rounded up around her desk and came to stand right before her. The scent of sex hit her nose in waves. It made her nauseous. “You’re going to get into so much trouble if they know that you have it and believe me, if you walk out of here, they will find out because I will tell them.”

“I’m not scared of those men.”

Mick laughed. Fucking laughed. 

“They’ll come for you, Y/N. Those men are not to be fucked with.” He was still chuckling when he said, “They will find you and they will kill you.”

She cocked her eyebrow, and maybe she should have been scared of Mick and his threats but she’s still got the upper hand. If she got to expose him first, she has bargaining leverage. Maybe she’d get to be in a witness protection program. By the time it hits the fan, she will hopefully be long gone. 

“I don’t have it,” she said again as she bumped her shoulder against his on her way out, shoving him to the side. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Mick called after her, his voice echoing in the almost empty hallway. 

With her head held high, she descended the stairs, too impatient and not to say scared to wait for the elevator.

 The phone buzzed again after having only stopped for a short time. It actually hasn’t stopped ringing since she drove back to her apartment to pack her duffel with enough clothes that should last her for a couple of days. She wanted to get out of here, clear her head, think about what to do next. 

It’s after she stopped for gas that she remembered the remote cabin that belonged to her parents. They hadn’t been up there for a while as the health of her father was deteriorating but she knew where they kept the spare key, and it’s the only place she knew nobody would come looking for her because she hadn’t been with Mick long enough to let him in on the existence of the cabin, nor on the memories the place held.

Buying enough food that would last her a couple of days, she drove towards the foot of the mountain. 

It was February and the roads were icy as it had snowed just last night. She hoped that her car would have enough power to get her up there, as she didn’t have snow chains with her. Not that she knew how to put them on in the first place. If worse comes to worst, she’d have to abandon her car and hike up the last bit, which was totally fine with her too. Anything to get away from civilization.

As she made her way up the snowy road and rounded up the twelfth bend in the street (There were fourteen - she had counted them from the drive up there every winter), her phone buzzed again. 

She glanced over to the passenger seat to catch the caller ID. It could be her mother for all she knew and that one, she would pick up. Y/N would maybe tell her that she was on the way to the cabin so that they wouldn’t be too worried if they can’t get a hold of her, because the reception could be pretty spotty up there.

But no, it’s fucking Mick again. She rolled her eyes upon seeing the name flash on the screen before turning her gaze back to the snow-covered street in front of her, but it was already too late. Out of her periphery, she caught it. The deer that ran out of the woods, its eyes wide when it saw the headlights of her SUV. Her foot hit the break immediately, but it was too late. The car swerved on the icy ground and she hoped she didn’t hit the animal before her vision goes black.

  Dean was sitting in his recliner in the cabin while he enjoyed his glass of bourbon. It’s his downtime, one of his favorite pastimes, next to spending his days out with Stevie, his Bernese mountain dog.

He had been coming to this cabin since his early childhood, having only missed one Winter out of the many. There were times where he would only spend a week up here but also there were times where he would be there for the whole winter. It’s his favorite place, always has been. 

The cabin is not as big as the ones that surrounded it, but it’s enough. It has only one bedroom, yet it was cozy. He remembered back to when he was younger, when he and his younger brother would sleep on the fold-out couch while his parents took the bedroom. Sometimes if Sam was upset with him, Dean would spend the night on the rug in front of the fireplace instead, and it was the best thing. He almost felt bad for wanting to get into a fight with Sam more often so that his sibling wouldn’t look at him funny when he wanted to spend the night on the floor instead of on the worn-out couch.

Once his parents stopped their annual visit up there, and they wanted to sell the cabin, Dean had saved enough money to buy it from them. There were just too many memories tied to the little property, too many of them that he wasn’t willing to just forget. 

While he took a sip from his tumbler, Stevie lifted her head and twisted her ears. 

Dean noticed, and immediately reached down to pat the dog's head, “What's wrong, Stevie?” 

The dog ignored him to get up and walk over to the door, letting out a whine as her nails started to scratch at the wood. 

“Easy, girl,” he soothes the agitated dog. “You wanna go out for a walk again?” 

Stevie whined some more, her scratching becoming more frantic. 

“Right,” Dean sighed as he got out of his seat. He took his time to empty his tumbler before setting it down on the coffee table. “Let’s go then.” 

The snow had started to fall again as they got out of the cabin, and he ducked inside once more to grab his hat that’s hanging on the hook right behind the door. Stevie was not impressed that it was taking Dean so long to get ready and started to bark.

“Easy, Stevie,” he chuckled as her wet nose nuzzled against his palm. He reached down to scratch behind her ear, a motion that seemed to calm her down. “Good girl.” 

They made their way down the street. The old snow crunched underneath his boots. Fresh layers of the white powder would cover over it soon enough, erasing their prints when it settled. He thought about doing their usual nightly walk around the perimeter, wondering if maybe they’d see a deer or two. Stevie had a way with deer. They love to meet her and Dean’s always mesmerized by the unusual bond they had. Stevie was always good with other animals and people, the dog’s sense to protect everyone is highly admirable, and Dean really couldn’t wish for a better companion.

As they rounded up the second bend in the road, he saw the car. Its headlights were still on but the front was wrapped around a tree which was the only thing standing between the car and the abyss. It was not a strong pine and the wood was already creaking under the weight.

Stevie rushed forward and Dean followed suit. The tree was going to give in at any minute, he just knew and if he couldn’t save the car, maybe he would be able to save whoever was stuck in there.

Dean thankfully reached the vehicle in time, yanking the driver’s door open and the sight of the girl slumped over the steering wheel made his blood run colder than the icy road he was standing on. 

“Y/N?” 

CH02

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

​

[writingsbychlo]

smoke and fire (epilogue II)

word count; 3193

summary; deep into your relationship, and still happy, there’s a bigger step on the horizon.

notes; please note that this is based two years after the events of the main series!

warnings; reference to arson, reference to injury.

“Tommy, where the hell are we? Why does it smell like burned wood?” You grinned, your vision blocked by the tie Thomas had used to cover your eyes, holding onto one of his hands tightly as he guided you up the pathway beneath your feet. “Seriously, I thought we were having a date night. You said we were going out!”

“We are out, technically.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, your skin tingling a little where his lips had pressed, before he was slowing you down, bringing you to a stop, and his hand left yours. The sunlight that had been pocking through the tie was blocked, shadowed as Thomas came to stand in front of you. “It’s just not what you think. But we are on a date, and we can order some food out here later.”

“Where exactly is ‘out here’? Because we were driving for, like, an hour.”

“Okay, well, it wouldn't normally be that long. I got a little lost because I couldn’t use the SatNav.” He huffed, fingers smoothing over the knot on the back of your head and trying not to pull on your hair as he undid it carefully. You were buzzing with excitement, wondering where exactly it was that he’d brought you, and you blinked a little at the light burned ta your eyes, finally able to see again. Thomas had blindfolded you upon leaving the station after your shift, not wanting you to have any idea about where you were going, and it took you a moment to readjust. “You ready?”

“Totally ready.” You beamed, and Thomas nodded, dipping down to press a quick peck to your lips, before he was stepping out of your way. Staring up at the building for a second, your blinked once, and then twice, before your lips were pursing, head tipping to the side. You stared for another moment, before turning to look at Thomas. “We’re at a burned-up house from a call last month?”

“Yeah!”

“Yeah! Cool!” You faked his enthusiasm for a second, trying to understand where it was coming from. “Huh. Why?”

He rolled his eyes fondly, tucking the tie into his back pocket before taking your hand and tugging you up the steps. The doorframe was burned, the door pulled closed but unable to lock as it hung unevenly on its hinges, and Thomas pushed it open again carefully. “I thought you might want to look around? Can I show you around?”

You didn’t understand much, but you smiled, sensing his excitement in it, and nodding your head. “Yeah, Tommy, of course.”

You stepped in a little more, eyes flicking over it all. There was peeling wallpaper that was scarred with ash and black stains, burned away right down to the foundations in some places, and the ceilings were covered in soot. The floors creaked under your feet as you stepped in glass smashed and the shards stained, and it was unusual to see the remnants of a building like this without all the smoke and fire that usually came with it when you were on the job.

The first room looked like it was supposed to have wide doors, an entrance that would take double doors but they’d fallen down, ripped laces along the frame where they’d torn of, but the debris had been moved from inside of the house. The living room was beautiful, you couldn't deny it. There was a large fireplace against one wall, real log-burning with a chimney up to the roof and if you hadn't actually worked on the case, you’d have immediately put the large accessory down to the cause of the fire.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t. The reason this beautiful large house had burned down was stupid kids messing around with fireworks in the back garden of a house for sale, which was now completely destroyed. What would once have sold for over a million was barely worth a couple hundred thousand anymore, despite the beautiful neighbourhood it was in.

“This room is huge.” You mumbled, stepping a little further inside, and Thomas nodded. There was a file on one side, a place that was covered in old and destroyed bookshelves, a large windowsill beside it, and you could already picture it extended to make a little reading nook.

“Do you wanna’ see how it looked before? There were pictures on the real estate website, it was beautiful.”

You nodded, tuning to your boyfriend as he pulled out his phone, pulling up the pictures and swiping through them, Standing by his side, you looped an arm around his waist, leaning in slightly, and his arm went over your shoulders. Finally finding the right one, he positioned you both to be facing in the right direction, a set of large bay windows on one side that went out towards a decking that had been burned away.

In the photograph, the window had curtain rails and soft white curtains made of a thin kind of mesh, letting in the natural light as they hung over large glass doors. The walls were done up with a pale grey and white wallpaper, leaving it simply for the furnishings, but everything seemed to be in pale shades that made it all feel modern and elegant. Turning you both, he showed off the fireplace, decorated with old cobblestones and shale around the base that decorated it beautifully, before fading away into what had once been smooth oak wood flooring.

There were pictures on the wall at one end, and it reminded you of the wall Thomas had in his apartment, the one you had moved into almost a year ago, but his one was bigger, and looked like it could hold at least three times the quantity. There were couches laid out, surrounding a large television, and it was a huge area, a coffee table that looked like it was almost the size of a dining table.

Moving through to the kitchen together, you were even more taken aback by it. To one side was what was once a dining room, connected fully and open space, enough to seat a whole extended family, and you could only imagine the thanksgivings or the Christmas’, and you would be able to fit the whole squad into that room without trouble, without sitting in different rooms or connecting tables, all squeezing around the kitchen counters at Newt’s place or sitting in the tables, couches and floor like at Minho’s last Christmas.

There was space in the kitchen for an island in the centre, stools in front of it, and built-in ovens and fridges like at the station. There was also a set of large doors here, the glass broken, and you assumed this was where the fireworks had burst right though because there was a hole in the centre of the ceiling up into one of the rooms above.

“I saw this kitchen and I was immediately thinking about the size of it. Y’know, like, imagine the parties or the holidays, with a dining room like that and a kitchen like this I remember thinking it when we were putting out the flames, too.” He scratched at the back of his neck, looking around for a second, and you guided his face back to your own, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “Weird thing to think about when putting out a fire, I know.”

“I was thinking the same thing. Big kitchen and dining room, you’d actually be able to fit a family our size into it without trouble. It’s kinda’ wild to think about.”

He chuckled, nodding his head, and his hands lifted to cup your cheeks pulling you back in closer to him. His nose bumped against your own, dragging together for a second in sweet Eskimo kisses, before his lips were meeting your own. Pressing in softly, he was still smiling into the connection for the first few seconds, before his head was twisting to the side, one hand dropping from your face to your waist, smoothing around your lower back and pulling you in even closer.

Pressing up into him, your arms circled his neck, pulling him down to your level as his tongue soothed over your lower lip, and you parted them for him. He sighed, a breathy and delicate sound, before his fingertips were digging into your flesh, holding you tightly as he pulled you impossibly closer. Scratching lightly at the hairs along the base of his neck, he rumbled happily, chest vibrating under your own with the noise and your fingers tangled a little more, and you pulled back. He whined, chasing after you for a few seconds, before letting you go, his forehead resting against yours instead.

“Your hairs getting kinda’ long.”

“You don’t like it?” He teased, and you shook your head, slightly kiss-swollen lips puckering for a second to press to his own again, a series of short pecks, before you pulled back.

“I like it, but you always complain about how sweaty your head gets in your helmets when your hair is too long.” He sighed, knowing you were right, and shrugging it off with a ‘hmph’.

“You know, talking of parties, there’s this amazing outdoor area. It's huge, there’s the decking from the living room and a patio outside here, there’s a big tree at the end of the garden and this amazing barbecuing area.” You nodded along, eyes narrowing on him again as he got excited over it, walking you a little closer to the broken doors so that you could see out.

He was right, there was a tall oak tree at the end of a huge garden, a fire pit made in the middle surrounded by beer cans and wrapped from where you assumed the teens who’d started the fire had been messing around, but with a little love and care, it would be all fixed up. The patio would seat big outdoor furniture, and you could picture a smaller firepit in the centre for later summer nights, as well as the proud barbecuing area Thomas had mentioned, built into the stonework with different levels and multiple grills.

“What do you think?”

“What do I think of this house?” You echoed, and he nodded slowly, almost hesitantly, before you took a deep breath, staring back out to the garden.

“I think it’s beautiful. Or, it was. Has a lot of potential to be incredible again.” You didn’t know much, you’d barely seen half of the lower floor and none of the upper ones. “I haven’t seen much of it, but what I have seen is nice.”

“Well, y’know, there’s big bedrooms. The master bedroom is amazing, it has an en-suite with a shower and a bathtub, a big closet and huge windows for natural light with a little miniature balcony outside of it. There’s a study down here which would make a really nice snug or cosy room, it didn’t get touched as much by the fire so you can get a better image of it when I show you. There are so many bedrooms, seriously, like, six bedrooms. There’s an attic, and a basement, and-

“Tommy, why are we here?” There was something hidden under his voice, his words trailing off after you’d interrupted him and his hand sank back to his sides from where he’d been making gestures with them, his shoulders slumping a little.

“It’s a cool house, I thought you might want to see inside of it! Especially since you and Newt didn’t get to do much when we were here, there wasn’t anybody injured, so you were just left waiting around, and I wanted to share it with you.”

“There’s more to it than that, I know I’m not great at picking up on signals, Tommy, but I’d like to think I got pretty good at reading you over this last year or so.” You studied him for a second, and he shrunk a little more under your gaze, before huffing out a laugh.

“Almost two years, now.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing to reassure him, before sliding up to sit on his neck, letting your thumb brush over his pulse point and calm him. His hand landed on your wrist, following as he trailed it up your arm to find your hand, pulling it away from his body and linking your fingers together instead. He kissed along your knuckles, remaining in silence, but you felt like you were drowning in the nervous tension he was letting off.

“Talk to me, Tommy.”

“Okay.” He let out a shaky breath, nodding his head before looking back up to you. “Well, you and Newt were talking after the case, right? He said Derek lived in a neighbourhood like this when he was younger, and that you had always wanted to live in an area like this. Well, when I was in here, I kept thinking about how beautiful this place was, and how big it was. The whole squad could fit in, and it would be so comfortable. This is the sort of place you spend the rest of your life in, right? I was looking through it all and doing a sweep and because I knew it was empty my mind was wandering. I just thought about how I would never normally be able to afford a place like this, and how the value would go down so much because of the fire, and..”

“Oh, wow, are you thinking of buying this house?” You couldn't hide the shock in your voice no matter how much you tried, and Thomas chuckled as he watched you look around, with a little more interest now as you took it all in with more attention to detail.

“Well, yeah. Kind of. It’s only a thirty-minute drive from the house so it’s pretty much the same commute as right now, and-” He huffed, nostrils flaring a little as he thought, and you raised your brows at the way he suddenly went quiet, the gears in his head visibly turning as his brows furrowed a little. “Look, I’m struggling here, I’m nervous, okay?”

“Thomas, you’re getting all panicky.” You whispered, pulling him in a little, and leaning up. He was eagerly awaiting the kiss you gave him, body relaxing a little as you balanced yourself with one hand, thumb playing with his own where the other was still held by one of his, and he didn’t let you go when he pulled back. Instead, his head dipped lower, pulling you in and wrapping an arm around your waist, needy kisses that left you breathless as he held onto you, tension melting away and becoming a little hazy instead as he clung to you.

“I’m just,” His teeth nibbled a little on your lower lip, panting slightly as he pulled back for breath, and you were stealing more kisses through gasping laughs as you tried to get enough air, smiling and teasing as you did. “I’m just trying to ask you,” He was cut off again, your mouth meeting his and he laughed against your lips, his hand leaving your own to hold onto you more, fingers tickling over your sides lightly as you laughed into the kiss. “Cut it out, I’m calm now, but I have to say this while I have the courage.”

His cheeks were flushed when you pulled back, hair a little messy and lips a darker shade than usual, and he licked over them as he stared down at you, undoubtedly staring at an equal messy composure. “You have my undivided attention. Go right ahead.”

“I remember that a while ago, we were lying in bed and talking about things we wanted that we never thought would happen, and you said you’d always wanted to rebuild a house. Renovate it, was the word you used. You wanted to make it your own, but you never thought you’d afford it. And, on a paramedic and a firefighters wage, we’d never be able to afford a place like this, normally.”

“We?” You echoed, a soft smile on his lips as your heart thudded in his chest. You knew what it meant, it was a heavy commitment to buy a house with someone, living together was one thing but buying a house was basically a step away from a proposal, it was an investment in a long term future together, and you felt like you could barely breathe. Your chest felt tight, shock and adrenaline racing through you and you stiffened slightly, fear lacing itself into Thomas’ features once again. “You, uh, you want us to buy a house together?”

“Maybe..” He sighed, a little timid again now. “It was just a thought, because it’s such a beautiful house, and as soon as I saw it I was thinking about things you’d said, and it just seemed perfect for us, but if you don’t like it then that’s fine, just don’t shut down on me, okay?” He rested a hand over your cheek, thumb brushing softly, and his lips pressed a soft kiss toy our forehead. “Just tell me you hate the idea, but don’t go silent, alright?”

You nodded, letting him kiss your temple too, before pulling back to look at you. “I, um..”

“Hate it?”

“Love it, actually.” You choked on the words slightly, feeling a little breathless as they were wheezed out, and Thomas paused. He looked sceptical, shaking his head slightly, and you tried your best to smile. “No, I do. I really do. I’m just terrified, okay? I’m not good at long-term commitment, I’m scared, but I want it. With you.”

“Really? Because I know it’s a big step, and I know what it means, I’m not blind. It’s buying a house together, so if you wanna’ freak out or you don’t want it, that's okay, just tell me, alright? Because I’m in this with you for the long haul and you’ve got to know that by now, it’s not a secret, so I can wait until you’re ready.” The words sped from him, a little too fast, and you shook your head, leaning up to press your forehead to his.

“I’m really, totally sure. I just hadn't thought about it, okay? I was caught off guard, I’m not much one to think about the future, it doesn’t come naturally to me. But when I do think about my future, you’re always there.”

“Always?” He teased, twisting his head to brush his lips with your own.

“Every single time.” You gave him a quick kiss, a happy hum to accompany it and he relaxed once he let you sink back. “So, why don’t we order some pizza to be delivered here, and you can show me around some more. You said there were lots of bedrooms, which is good, because you know Newt will want his own.”

“So, we’re buying a house?” He looked a little unsteady, eyes glossing over, and he sniffed lightly. You matched him, nodding your head and beaming as the emotions overwhelmed you.

“Yeah, baby, we are.”

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper Pt. 1

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past abusive relationship

Length: 1.4k

Notes: Okay, here we go! Giving our babe Frankie an ending he deserves, with a few bumps along the way for fun. Divider by @firefly-graphics 💛

It was almost comical, you thought, at how different the realtor's listing was, compared to the real thing. You’d seen it enough times in bad Hallmark romances: city girl buys a property, property is falling apart, city girl miraculously has the funds to fix it up with the help of the perfect farmer neighbour.

This was reality though and you had already poured your life’s savings, which amounted to very little after all the surprise debts had been paid off, into this farmhouse. 

The "Quaint New England farmhouse, filled with the patina of a bygone era" was a wreck. Nothing to be done about it now, though. The crumbling two-story, just a few minutes drive from the small Vermont town, hadn’t been occupied in over a decade and was now in a total state of disrepair. 

Swallowing back your tears, feeling the burn behind your eyes and the hot swelling in your throat, you told yourself there wasn’t time for a breakdown. You first needed to take stock of the depth of damage, decide which rooms were habitable enough for the time being, clean, unpack, and prepare yourself for this new life.

The next few hours went by in an exhausting blur. By late evening, there was a larger-than-expected pile of rotten, broken, or otherwise unusable furniture in the driveway; your meager few belongings taking their place. On top of renovations and remodeling it appeared you would also be refurbishing. 

Sitting on the porch in the one spot where you felt confident the decking wouldn’t crumble beneath your weight, you looked over your list.

 3 cracked windows (can wait?)

 no running water in kitchen (ASAP FIX!)

 missing shingles (bad??)

 deck boards and upstairs bedroom floorboards rotten

 carpeted bathroom

 questionable smell coming from attic space 

peeling wallpaper/paint EVERYWHERE

Folding the list and slipping it into your back pocket, you made your way back inside to discover one last glaring issue, previously unnoticed until now. The electricity had been shut off.

Well, fuck me sideways...

Deciding it was too late and you were too tired to deal with anything else today, you settled for the flashlight on your cellphone for light. Eating the apple you had nicked from the motel lobby the night before, you laid back in your makeshift bed on the floor and gazed around your new home.

Your home.

The first thing you had ever owned on your own.

First, the corner of your mouth quirked up then you quickly allowed it to flourish into a grin. It may be a piece of shit, but then again, you were always attracted to broken things with the innate need to fix them. Maybe this time you’d actually succeed. With that sobering thought, you settled down into your sleeping bag and were quickly asleep.

Frankie couldn’t believe his eyes when he drove past the old McClure farm. Some fool had actually bought it! Chuckling to himself, he could already imagine the gossip that would spread through town tomorrow, everyone clambering to find out who had moved in.

He had moved out this way five years ago and was still considered the “new guy” in town. Hopefully, the new arrival would take that mantle and everyone could start using Frankie’s actual name. 

He’ll probably just be dubbed “newer guy”...

Breathing out a huff of a laugh at the thought, Frankie began to turn down his driveway. The long, meandering drive leads to a barn surrounded by rows and rows of apple trees.

Two weeks after having moved in, you’re certain you’ve met, or at least seen, everyone from the town. Muffins, pie, casseroles, and even a case of cider had been brought over by a few of the braver townsfolk who drove out to say hello. While they may have been thinly veiled excuses to come snoop, you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain. The food was delicious, and best of all, it was free.

She had stayed for most of the afternoon, helping you clean and setting her kids about to do menial chores. The eldest, Cole, was sent scurrying up the road to tell his dad to bring Gerta. ... You dared not ask.

The very first visitor was a neighbour from just down the road. “Jacquie,” she had informed you over the noise of her four kids running around the yard, “How do you do?”

She said it with the barest hint of a southern drawl and you instantly fell in love with the soft cadence of her voice. With a beaming smile and a surreptitious wipe of your dusty hand on your pant leg, you shook her hand and introduced yourself. 

A short time later, the most devastatingly handsome, all-American-looking man you had ever seen climbed out of a tractor and started carrying a large object towards the house, Cole at his heels. 

“Jac, babe, where d’you want her?” He called, voice straining a bit due to the weight in his arms. Smiling at you, he nodded his head in greeting, "Hiya, neighbour! The name’s Mark"

“Oh, I don’t need it,” Jacquie replied airily “I just wanted an excuse to watch your muscles at work.”

With a roll of his eyes, that did nothing to hide the adoring sparkle in them, her husband carried his load to the side of the house and with a thump, set it down.

Turns out that Jacquie had a fondness for naming EVERYTHING and Gerta was their gas-powered generator. Claiming they had no use for it, Gerta was yours to keep for as long as you needed her. Which, you had to be honest, was looking like a good long while. Willing away the tears, not for the last time you were sure, brought on by her kindness, you settled for giving her a bear hug. It wasn’t until you heard a little voice calling “Mama?” that you realized you had been clinging to Jacquie for longer than could ever be considered acceptable.

Pulling away gingerly, you started to apologize, quickly stopped by her hand coming up in front of your face, making you involuntarily flinch. 

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry!” She started to exclaim before taking a deeper look at you. Then, without breaking eye contact, she tilted her head to the side and hollered at Mark to gather the kids and head home.

“I’ll be back past bedtime, so come give me y’all kisses now!” She lovingly bossed her brood.

Once they had cleared out, she turned to you, gently taking your hands in hers, and said, “Now, where do you want to start?”

“What kind of voodoo, witch doctor, hippy-dippy magic do you possess?!” you asked with a laugh while sniffing back the lingering tears. 

You had just laid out your entire life to a complete stranger. She had sat there, the whole time, holding your hands and your gaze while you had talked. Everything, you had told her absolutely everything. From the California upbringing in an affluential family to marrying your Highschool Sweetheart days after graduation. The sudden move, his surprise enlistment, his changing demeanor, the beginnings of abuse, all ending with his death while stationed overseas.

The pathetic Death Gratuity from the military barely covered the truck. You’d had to sell everything in order to settle all remaining debts. Your parents had offered to move you back home but the thought just made you ashamed. Moving back home? Being seen as a victim, being pitied by those who had seen your potential wasted? No way.

“Nothin’ supernatural, Darlin,” she assured you, after taking a deep breath to steady herself. It appeared that your emotions had started to affect her as well, you noticed with chagrin. “just the power of a good friend and a strong cider.”

Then came the aftermath. The debt collectors, the funeral without a body, his family claiming anything of value and you meekly allowing it, unaccustomed by that point to standing up for yourself. His grooming of you had started so early, and so slightly, that no one had seen it happen. He had controlled every aspect of your lives; it had made you feel like a fool during that first month as a widow. How could you not know about the multiple maxed-out credit cards? The ignored truck payments? The bank loans?! 

That comment made you look around and laugh, breaking the morose atmosphere in a flash. Scattered around the two of you were at least a half dozen bottles of the alcoholic beverage, which you had both sipped on during your sad monologue.

“Ahh, so it’s the maker of the drink I’ll have to kiss,” you proclaimed with a laugh. “I just saved a fortune in therapy bills!”

With a sly smile, Jacquie nodded, “That you will, send him my best when you do.”

Part Two

[voiceswithoutlips]

Calico - Chapter Two

— pairing: Hybrid ot7 x Human Reader (Female) — genre: hybrid AU , fluff, angst, slow burn (like real slow), eventual smut — word count: 2K — Rating: M — warnings: trauma, mention of past abuse.

Click for Tag List

— chapter summary:

Y/N runs a animal shelter, Calico was built on a simple principle, to help those who were in need. What will Y/N do when her sanctuary is threatened by an unexpected hybrid?

— A/N: This is going to be a series, I’m just getting back to writing, so I’d really appreciate your input and feedback <3

Ch. 1  Ch. 3  Ch. 3.5 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6

I stumbled out of bed with a groan, it was almost noon and my hangover was killing me. Last night I was too stressed so I drowned my worries in a bottle of whisky. Why was adulting so annoying, ugh. The house was quiet, Jason had probably already gone to the shelter. I made my way to the kitchen, my zombie brain screaming for coffee. I like my coffee black and bitter, just like my soul. Kidding, I don’t have a soul. 

My phone rang somewhere in the living room. The place looked like a tornado had torn through it. The floor was covered with papers and cushions and clothes and other unidentifiable mess. What the fuck happened last night? By the time I found my phone the ringing had stopped. 28 missed calls from Jason and 2% battery ...great.  

I made my way to the exam room, the most likely place for Jason to be. It was just a five minute walk from the house. I was in my pajamas, my hair sticking out and the coffee cup in my hand. It was Sunday, I was grumpy.

There was a half-naked man sitting on the exam table, no not a man, a hybrid. His white fluffy tail was droopy. Long white ears poked from his long black hair, he desperately needed a haircut. His ears were limp on his back. There was a hole in his left ear, it was properly done but too big for a piercing. My eyes widened with realization, I’d seen that before on cattle, his previous owners must’ve tagged him. 

The hybrid showed no reaction as I went to stand beside Jason, and directly in front of him. His upper body was muscular, he had a thick neck and washboard abs. He was gorgeous. He had a strong jawline, cute eyes and a small nose. The combination of cute and sexy was deadly. His hands were clasped together and he was hunched over, trying to make himself look small, not an easy feat to achieve.  

“Y/N, this is Jungkook,” Jason introduced the hybrid. The bunny stiffened, he didn’t raise his head to look at me. What do I do? I wasn’t good with people, I preferred animals to humans.  

“Hello, I’m Y/N,” I greeted. He was sitting so still that you would think he wasn’t even there. Was he even breathing? He was still looking down. 

I looked at Jason, I didn’t know what to do. “I found him near the hatch this morning so I brought him in for a checkup.” I nodded. 

“Are you hungry? I’m practically starving!” I asked, extending a tentative hand towards the bunny, palm up. He flinched.  I kept my hand where it was. I would stand here for hours if I had to. My stubbornness knew no bounds. Minutes passed slowly, Jason was leaning on the counter perfectly at ease, he was a good actor. 

Slowly Jungkook took my hand. “Let’s go have breakfast,” I whispered, a smile on my face as I slowly led him to the kitchen. Well kitchen was an overstatement, it was a small room with six refrigerators and two freezers, most of them contained medical supplies. A sad, overused coffee machine and a small stove for “Emergency Ramen”, it was our own special recipe. 

I opened the fridge with a “No Science Allowed” poster taped to its door. I pulled out a bunch of greens to make a salad, rabbits need their greens. We always stocked the fridge for humans and the animals. I wasn’t a particularly good cook, I could cook enough to not starve but that was the extent of my cooking skills. A quick chicken salad, eggs and toast and a bunch of pancakes and breakfast was served. 

Jungkook was still standing near the door where I had left him, eyes downcast, ears flopped. I was an idiot, a massive idiot, I assumed he would sit at the table on his own. Bad Y/N! 

“Jungkook, come sit with me,” I mentally hit myself, it sounded like a command, I was terrible at this. I was used to animals, you tell them what to do, you can’t ask a dog if he’d like to sit with you, but Jungkook was a person. I can be an animal therapist but humans? They were beyond me. I didn’t know how to get to him.  

He sat at the table. I pushed the food in front of him, expecting him to eat, another mistake. Hybrids are supposed to obey, they don't do things on their own. I was supposed to tell him what to do. I wanted to pound my head on the table. Stupid Y/N. 

“What would you like to eat?” I asked in the gentlest voice possible, at least I hoped it was gentle. 

 No response.  

“Go on this is all for you,” I tried to be encouraging. 

 Nothing.

 “Tell you what, if you finish your breakfast, I’ll give you a treat,” his ears twitched. He tentatively picked up a fork and started eating. His movements were small, he barely made any noise as he chewed but at least he was eating. 

I was still confuzzled, it is a word, a made up word, but then again all words are made up words. Confused and puzzled. I had no idea how to approach him, do I treat him like a human or a rabbit. The ‘treat’ card worked but will it work every time? He was taking small bites, I wondered if the food tasted bad. Maybe I forgot to add sugar to the pancakes? Did I forget to season the salad? I sighed internally. He needed a proper meal but sadly, Jason and I were terrible cooks. We lived on take-outs and ramen. Maybe it was time to learn how to cook.

I stood up, he froze. I had to get him used to people. I ignored his stiff posture as I walked to one of the freezers and pulled out a container that held my favorite ice cream. It was ‘ice cream for breakfast’ kind of day. I didn’t bother with bowls, two spoons and I was back in my seat. 

“You know this is my absolute favorite ice cream in the entire world. It's called Chocolate Brownie Fudge with Marshmallows. It's like a little piece of heaven in a plastic container,” I offered him a spoon. He looked at it as if it was going to bite him. “Go on, it's your treat!” I encouraged with a grin. It was meant to be a small smile but he was too cute and the ice cream made me happy. 

I dug into the ice cream as if my life depended on it. Jungkook watched me curiously, the spoon still in his hand. He hadn’t finished his breakfast but it was a start. For me, it was Sunday, the day where I threw caution to the wind and ate what I wanted. He hesitantly took a spoonful of ice cream, watching me as if I was going to pull the container away from him and tell him it was a joke. 

As soon as the spoon touched his tongue his eyes lit up like christmas. “Amazing isn’t it?” I asked, taking another bite. He nodded excitedly. Apparently he had a sweet tooth. I pushed the ice cream towards him and watched him devour the whole thing in minutes. God he was adorable!

I settled down on the couch in my office, I desperately needed a shower but that’d have to wait. Jason had taken Jungkook back to our house, he was going to stay in the guest room for the time being. It's not like I was going to put him in the hybrid shelter building, nobody deserved that and he couldn’t stay as a rabbit forever. 

I had a file in front of me, a file on Jungkook. All hybrids are installed with a microchip and registered in the hybrid database as soon as they are born ...or rather created in the labs. Hybrids couldn’t procreate, they were made in labs owned by big corporations. Jason had scanned Jungkooks microchip, the file contained everything about his life.

He was created in Corebear Tech’s lab and sold at the age of six to a wealthy family as a pet for their son. He was sent back to the company when he was twelve because he had grown too big for a rabbit hybrid. Corebear Tech then sold him to Apexi Pharmaceuticals and I guess that’s where Yonu found him.

I felt …I didn’t know what I felt. Maybe a sense of defeat. Jungkook was twenty-three, he was in that lab for eleven years. He was just one year younger than me. I was lost. I couldn’t even imagine what he must’ve gone through. There was no way I was going to let Apexi take him back. I called Song Hwa and gave her the file. After all we had evidence to collect and a case to build.

“Not this again!!” I ran through the front door as soon as I smelled smoke in our kitchen. Jason was standing in front of the stove fanning a pot with a newspaper. 

“I was cooking rice, I don’t know what happened,” he said opening the windows.

I took a peek, the rice was black, utterly totally burnt. “Jason …you’re supposed to add water to cook it…”

“Oh,” Jason loved to cook, the problem was he just couldn’t. I was 200% sure that he was cursed by some evil witch. The moment Jason tries to cook, all hell breaks loose.  

“You’re on clean-up duty,” I grumbled. At least it wasn’t that bad, the cake incident was still fresh in my mind. Once upon a time, when we still lived in our dorm, Jason decided to bake a cake …in a pressure cooker. Needless to say, it was a disaster. The cooker blew up, damaging half the kitchen. Thankfully no one was injured.

I softly knocked on the guestroom door. Jungkook had spent the whole day in his room, not that I blamed him. New place, new people, it was bound to be scary.

“Hey Jungkook, you want to come out for dinner?” I asked. I could deliver him ramen to his room if he wanted but I hoped he’d come out and eat with us. Yes, we were having ramen, Jason and I still lived as we had lived in our dorm, the only difference was our house was nicer and we had a garden.

Jungkook opened the door, he hadn’t locked it. He scrunched his nose as soon as he stepped out. The house was full of burnt smell from Jason’s cooking adventure. The smell must be stronger for him.

“Yeah, Jason tried to cook rice. Pro tip, never eat the food that Jason makes, he’s a terrible cook. Do you want to come eat with us?” I asked. I got a small nod in return.

“Let’s gooooo!! Do you like ramen? We have a really good recipe, well its nothing special, we just throw in some bacon and rice cakes and of course a fuckton of cheese,” I rambled as he followed me to the dining table. “You can never go wrong with cheese, unless you’re Jason,” Jason made protesting noises, I rolled my eyes at him.

Dinner was a bit awkward. Jason and I kept trying to make Jungkook talk but it didn’t work. The poor bunny hadn’t spoken a single word since he’d arrived at Calico. The only thing we got out of him were small nods and silence. I wondered if we should consult a therapist. He was human after all and he needed help.

I heard a sharp gasp from my left. Jungkook’s eyes were huge, he was frozen in his chair. He had accidently knocked the salt shaker off the table.

“I’m so..sorry. Please don’t punish me. I’ll do anything,” his voice was so small, it made my heart ache.

“Oh honey no!” I said as I held his hands. “It was an accident. You remember what I told you? This is a safe space, you’ll never be punished here. I won’t let anyone hurt you, okay?” I was mentally cursing myself for holding his hands on impulse. What if he didn’t like people invading his personal space? My worries were put to rest as he squeezed my hands.

“Okay,” he said in the smallest voice.

 Previous || Next

[sageinacage]

Pog :0 Based around the stream where they did a pvp - Boomer getting tired of losing so he wrecks Punz in hopes of getting a second win?

I hope that you’re doing well and have a great day/night!

Endurance Training summary: boomer wants to knock his cocky friend punz down a peg during their pvp training. a/n: i hope its okay i kinda derailed from the original prompt D: its still them and still in a similar setting but its just boomer being a cocky ass instead LOL warnings: swearing, lighthearted mocking (?), describing a fight in minecraft kinda LOL w/c: 1.4k IG, Platonic

~

“Haaa, I’m so good at this.” Punz stretched his arms over his head after yet another victory, shooting a shit-eating grin at his friend. “Isn’t that right, Boomer?”

Boomer fixed his frog hat, and let out an annoyed huff as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re just lucky, dumbass.” He spat back, grumbling something snarky to himself as he straightened out the light training armor equipped on him.

“I don’t think there’s anything lucky going on with you falling on your ass. Multiple times.”

“That’s because you tripped me, you asshole!”

“Oh, boohoo.”

Boomer opened his mouth to say something sassy back at his friend, but decided not to as Punz is definitely someone who could match his level of wits and he knew that. Instead, he let out an exaggerated groan and picked up his training sword, standing on the opposite side of the arena from Punz.

“Ready for round… uh… three? four? Definitely a number.” Punz rubbed the back of his head as he let out a few chuckles, composing himself after a few seconds and holding his sword and shield steadily. “Born ready, baby!” Boomer tried to jest, his goal being to distract Punz in any way he could.

Punz gave the man in the frog hat a confused eyebrow raise, rolling his eyes and beginning to approach him. “Punz, you do not want to come over here!” Boomer sang in a slightly worried tone, backing up and nervously skipping to the side. “Oh, but I really do, Boomer! C’mon, don’t be shy!” Punz sneered, his speed picking up a bit as Boomer let out a high-pitched giggle and ran off.

The man chuckled as his friend’s nervous giggles, shaking his head before equipping the fishing rod from his inventory, reeling Boomer in by the hood of his hoodie. “No!” He screeched, unhooking himself and skipping away again. “You slippery frog!” Punz exclaimed, continuing the chase.

The round ended like normal, some half-assed fight from Boomer then getting absolutely whooped after. “Boomer, c’mon! You gotta try harder than that!” Punz urged, trying to pull the sulking man up from the ground.

“Hm.” He hummed, his whole body going limp as his friend tried to lift him off the ground. “Don’t be a baby, bud.” Punz laughed, eventually just gently dropping him back down. “Am I just too good that you don’t wanna try again?” He chuckled, a smirk painting his features.

“No, I’m just thinking.”

“About…?”

“How to knock you down a peg or two- then I’d put the effort into fighting you.” Boomer grinned widely, a grin that Punz definitely did not trust. “How would you be able to knock me down if you won’t even fight me for real?” He crossed his arms, slightly tilting his head.

Boomer stood up, making the blonde take a small step back.

“I don’t like that look you’re giving me-”

“I remember a little something about you, Punz.”

“Boomer…”

“I remember you had a little… weakness… yeah. A weakness.” Boomer chuckled lowly, taking a step towards Punz. Punz squinted his eyes, trying to seem intimidating but took another step back as the white-haired man took another one forward.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Punz rolled his eyes, putting a hand on his hip. “I think you do, Punz! It’s probably why you’re blushing right now.”

“I am n- not! My cheeks are red out of anger. Yeah, that’s why.” He looked down, avoiding eye contact with the other. “Yeah? Out of anger, Punz? Totally not because you know I’m about to tickle you, and you can’t do anything about it. Y’know, how about we look at this like endurance training- you did originally ask me to train with you to improve, yeah?” Boomer continued as he kept slowly walking at Punz, until he got close to him.

“I’m- I’m n- not… ticklish?”

“Sure you aren’t, pal.” Boomer sneered before tackling his friend onto the grass, rolling around as he wrestled with him to get the upper hand. Eventually, the ‘CEO of Bedwars’ got the blonde pinned under him, but not after a good wrestle.

“Gotcha.” Boomer spoke low in Punz’s ear, before using his free hand to claw into his ribcage. “Sh- Shihit- Boohohomer!” He tried to hold back his giggles, shaking his head as the immediate sensation wracking his ribcage already tickled like hell.

“What’s up? I’m all ears!” Boomer laughed, deciding to pin Punz’s hands beneath his knees so he can use both of his hands. After he managed to pin them there, he wiggled his fingers at his friend. “Now, where should I go next? Your tummy is just right here, so cute and begging to be tickled… but I think I’m gonna go riiiight here…” Boomer gave a devilish grin before kneading his thumbs in circles into his upper waist.

Punz shrieked, arching his back forward. “YohoHOU- *snort* SUHUHUCK! STOHOP IT!” Punz cackled, trying to twist side to side to get rid of the sensations, but the damn feeling just won’t leave and it was causing ticklish shocks to spread across his whole torso.

“N’awww, Punz! I know you’re easily strong enough to escape. You really just wanna be tickled to tears, huh? Tickled so much that you won’t be able to lift a finger against me. Yeah? Is that what you want, Punzie?” Boomer teased, not letting up on those wonderful horrible ticklish circles on his lower ribs.

Covering his face, Punz dug his heels into the ground behind him to try to relieve some of the sensations, but Boomer was just so persistent. “SOHOMEWHEHERE ElSE! P- PLEHEHEASE!” He squealed as his friend’s hands immediately went to squeeze his hips, then to back up to sit on Punz’s knees, immediately scribbling his nails into his thighs.

“NONONO- NOHAHAHAHA-” Punz immediately retaliated, his legs being extremely ticklish. Boomer let out an evil laugh at this new discovery, repeatedly squeezing that spot right above his kneecaps which earned the most high-pitched giggles from the blonde. “No? Not here? Hmmm… I think I like it here, though!” Boomer announced, before scooting back up.

Punz breathed heavily, weakly pulling at his hands- but they remained stuck under Boomer’s knees. “You done?” Boomer asked, his voice expressing more concern than anything. Punz, always wanting a challenge, just smirked. “Never.” He continued to smile, but his eyes grew wide as Boomer slowly started to pull up his white hoodie.

“Ooh, look what we have here! An adorable tummy, just waiting to be tickled by yours truly. You ready, Punz? Are you ready for the tickles since you’re enjoying this soooo much?” Boomer didn’t give him time to answer as he immediately began to flutter his fingertips over his exposed stomach.

“COHOLD HAHANDS- BOOHOHOMER Y- YOU AHASS!” Punz squealed, throwing his head back as one of his worst spots was targeted. “N’awww, you have such a ticklish tummy! That’s so sweet, Punz. I wonder though… ah- ignore me, I’m just going on a ramble.” Boomer spoke to him like he wasn’t destroying him under his fingertips.

The fluttering fingers turned into raking nails, the feeling it provided tickling like hell. Boomer was still curious, though. ‘Do raspberries actually tickle? Would that be a good idea?’ He thought, his fingers not stopping his attack on Punz’s stomach.

Well, here goes nothing.

“PFFT- PLEHEHAHAHAHA- BOOHOHOMER NOHOHO!” Punz went completely limp as a raspberry was planted right on the pudge of his stomach, the feeling strange but extremely ticklish. He let out another screech as more raspberries were placed, followed by nibbles trailing up his sides and ribs as Boomer’s fingers continued to dance along his belly.

“This is so priceless, holy shit!” Boomer eventually sat up, fondly laughing at the dazed look on Punz’s face. “ALRIHIHIGHT!” Punz exclaimed, playfully shoving Boomer off of him and curling up on the grass. “There you go, you managed to escape!” Boomer joked, standing up and towering over his friend.

“That was fun, don’tcha think, Punzie?” Boomer teased, earning an ‘angry’ growl from the other. “Revehenge will be fuhun…” Punz mumbled through his after-giggles, glaring up at Boomer.

“Sure it will, giggles.”

“Shuhut up, will you?!”

[miceenscene]

Fealty

female shepard/garrus vakarian | pwp | roleplay

wc: 8.9k

summary: Garrus & Shepard find some escapism in the midst of a war. | This is the product of listening to Rimsky’s Scheherazade too many times whilst pondering the inherent eroticism of blood oaths.

warnings: none, just sexy times galore

an: in this house, service switch Garrus hours are 24/7

ao3 | Masterlist

The Incident was an accident.

The Incident was an accident, and Garrus swore he would maintain that story to his dying day. It was not his fault that when Shepard really got him going sometimes odd things came out of his mouth. If anything, it was Shepard’s fault. Her and her flexible, strong, smooth body did unspeakable things to him that he really couldn’t rationally explain outside of the moment.

The night of The Incident, they’d started in the elevator, cautious at first then building as it became clear no one would interrupt them, then shedding armor carelessly in the hallway just outside her quarters. They’d made it to the desk at least for the first round. Then half a round against the fishtank, till finally she had him pinned down on the bed. His hands gripped her waist, following her rhythms eagerly, as she found her pleasure on top of him. She was warm and clenching around him as his head swam with Shepard.

There was a phenomenon that Garrus had long since noticed, beginning really from the first time they ‘blew off steam’. In the run up to Shepard’s peaks, he found himself… needing, craving, desperate to give her what she desired. Probably some combination of turian martial instinct–she was still the commander of the ship he served on, even if she claimed she wasn’t his commander anymore–and plain attraction to the woman herself. As well as his own perfectionist tendencies. If he was going to do a job, he wanted to do it The Best… and apparently that also applied to giving Shepard orgasms.

And it was somewhere in the middle of this phenomenon that it happened. The Incident. Shepard was close, close enough for them both to taste it. And she gave him an order, deeper more right there. And, as he happily obeyed, it just came out of his mouth in a soul-deep rumbling groan.

“Yes, your majesty.”

There was half a second before they both heard what he’d just said. Then it clicked. Glass shattered in the forefront of Garrus’ mind as a thousand warning lights suddenly started flashing.

Meanwhile, Shepard paused, teetering on her edge, and looked down at him. Her face was flushed, chest heaving with exertion, eyes over-bright. “What did you–”

It was a dirty move, but to distract her, Garrus pressed his thumb to her clit and canted his hips just so, shoving her into bliss with a loud exclamation. She pulled him down with her, both of them shuddering and swearing in each other’s arms.

His afterglow, however, was undercut with a strong tint of embarrassment. Luckily, nothing seemed to have bothered Shepard, who melted on top of him with her head resting on his chest. He trailed a few talons between her shoulder blades, making her hum and relax even more. Maybe she’d drift straight off to sleep, and in the morning his stupid mouth would be back under control.

But she shifted to the side into the waiting crook of his arm and molded around him in the usual, seemingly physically impossible for how perfect it was, way. “I should go clean up,” she sighed after another few minutes of quiet, stretching leisurely.

He hummed an agreement, relaxing now that it seemed his little outburst had been forgotten. “I’ll take care of the sheets,” he replied, nuzzling a kiss to the top of her head.

“Thank you,” she murmured, returning the kiss to the front of his carapace. With a soft smile, she got up. His hand traced the line down from her shoulder to her wrist to the tips of her fingers before she was out of reach. He admired the languid lines of her figure as she retreated, the bathroom door hissing shut behind her.

That was a close one.

Though he really should have known that his dodging skills were not that great. Or rather, Shepard’s ability to lay in wait should never be underestimated. Reckoning came a few evenings later. They were back in Shepard’s quarters again, but this time both reading through reports on her couch. Shepard liked to lean back against him and wrap his arm across her torso. Garrus liked it too because it was easy to lean over and stroke his mandible over her silky hair occasionally.

They’d been diligent for nearly three hours now, wading through the mounting horrors of war, but Garrus felt his eyes start to glaze over as he opened the next report from the Hierarchy. He blinked a few times to bring himself back into focus, only for it to happen less than two minutes later. Alright, perhaps it was time to call it a day.

His focus shifted to Shepard, a few tempting ideas popping up in the back of his mind. He brushed her hair to one shoulder so he could nuzzle a kiss to the other side of her neck. She hummed and her hand brushed the side of his face, but he didn’t have her full attention yet. That would have to change. He trailed the tip of his tongue up the side of her neck, up to her ear and over the shell of it, making the muscles in her core clench.

“Done already?” she asked, her voice just slightly airy.

“Done for tonight,” he rumbled. His hand covered hers on the datapad, updated casualty estimates from Earth. The numbers just never stopped growing. “You should be too.” She let him take the pad from her, setting it down on the coffee table, before laying back with her head in his lap.

“Perhaps you have a point.” Mentally setting aside the unfixable, she gave him a tired smile. “Did you want to go to bed? ...Orrr?”

“I’m a turian, Shepard. I’m pretty much always up for ‘orrr’.”

She laughed quietly and sat up to straddle his lap, arms resting on his shoulders and making his subvocals start to rumble at her proximity.

“How about you?” he asked, returning to his earlier work on her neck and sliding his hands across her waist. “Are you up for ‘orrr’?”

She hummed and leaned into his ministrations. “That depends.”

He really should have seen the trap, but he was too focused on trailing talon tips up the shallow valley of Shepard’s spine to see it at the time. “On?”

“Are you going to call me ‘your majesty’ again?”

Crap.

He froze, hands under her shirt, mouth open on her neck. “You heard that?”

“Yes, Garrus. I do tend to hear what you proclaim when you’re inside me.” She pulled back, making him look at her. “You mind explaining that one to me?”

He shook his head. “It’s nothing, forget it.” And he tried to duck back in to distract her again, but she moved back once more.

“It’s not nothing. I saw your face as you said it…” There was a teasing light in her eyes, coupled with a similar smirk across her lips. “Oh, come on. Remember I was the one who pitched that whole ‘let’s pretend we’re having a first date’ thing?”

“There’s a difference between faking the date we never got and… this.”

“I don’t mind taking things a step away from reality… seems almost a necessity these days.” Her eyes half-turned towards where the datapad still lay.

That was a solid point. But some deep shameful part of him clenched at owning up to this particular non-reality. Her teasing look dimmed as he didn’t budge a metaphorical inch. Thank the spirits, it seemed like she might let this go. But he was caught off-guard when she cupped his face in her hands.

“There is nothing you could tell me about yourself that would make me love you less. You know that right?”

He flinched from how deeply she struck. Consciously, yes. He trusted her when she said she loved him. The subconscious application was… tricky at times to prove that it had been completely accepted. Not all the time, just rare instances. Like right now.

He nodded. “I know.”

“Okay. Good.” She tipped her forehead to rest it against his. He was the luckiest damn turian in the entire galaxy. And he loved her just as much; he hoped she knew even though he hadn’t said it just yet.

She smiled softly as she sat back. “You don’t have to tell me the explanation if you don’t want to. But…” She shrugged and moved off his lap, sitting on the couch next to him and picking back up her datapad. “If you did, maybe I could… play along.”

The last two words came out just a touch rougher around the edges, sending a fizzing thrill to his gut and calling his bluff all at the same time. Just like she’d no-doubt intended. A whole new host of tempting ideas popped up in the back of his mind, their sum total enticing enough to overwhelm the shame.

He was actually going to do this.

“How… much do you know about turian history?” he asked slowly, picking up his own datapad in a feigned casual manner to have something to look at.

“Very little.”

“Well, it’s not as much turian history as… turian historical fiction.” He sucked in a breath for the strength to power through to the end of the explanation. “A… scandalous novel I read as a young recruit. Set during the unification wars, about a warlord and… her right-hand warrior.”

He could feel her gaze land on him, but he maintained focus on the words-turned-unparsable-shapes of his datapad. Embarrassment singed the back of his neck as silence filled the room. His first instinct was right; this was a silly fantasy, best kept to himself and not shared with someone whose respect he craved like Shepard’s.

He heard her shift and then her hand was under his chin, tilting his head to look up at her. His breath caught in his upper chest when he met her eyes. She’d stood, making her taller than he was from where he was sitting. Her posture was taught, like on the battlefield, yet somehow tempting at the same time. Strength and power radiated from her. A smile hinted in her eyes, but her mouth was set into a stoic line.

“Do you want me to be your queen, Garrus?” she asked in a low voice that shifted like sand under a desert wind.

“Yes.”

One dune after another, the horizon seemed as far now at dusk as it had been at dawn. Always dancing and shifting, no matter how steadfastly the General moved towards it. The glaring suns had beat unrelenting against his helmet all day, scorching his armor and the sand beneath him. But as they slipped beneath the horizon, he finally caught sight of his destination in the far distance. A camp of tents lay in the shadow of the mesa, spotted with torchlight and waving flags of red and black.

A small flurry of alarm kicked up at his approach to the camp, then stilled as he was recognized by the watch. His men greeted him warmly, but the General didn’t slow. He headed straight for the largest tent at the dead middle of the camp, trimmed in gold with two guards at the entrance. Momentum pulled him inside the tent where he finally stopped, removing his helmet and falling to one knee on the sumptuous rug across the floor.

It was scent that whispered of her arrival, more than sound or sight. Cool jasmine with the slight tang of tempered steel drifted towards him, surrounded him, familiar and intoxicating. Then the soft drag of a silk robe across carpet met his ears, followed by her voice, low and calm as a viper.

“You have returned, General Vakarian.”

“Yes, my Queen,” he answered.

“Rise and report.”

He stood and breath caught in his chest as he finally saw her, his Queen. Every time he saw her, it was first her eyes that captivated him, green as a forest and piercing as a dagger. Her waist-length crimson hair was loose, brushed to gleaming over one shoulder, and she was wrapped in a deep blue robe. She appeared unarmed, perhaps even vulnerable to the untrained eye. But he knew her better than that. She was dangerous, yet all the more beguiling for it.

At his prolonged silence, she lifted a single brow and turned to a small table at the opposite side of the tent that bore a pitcher and a few silver goblets. The General opened the bag he’d carried for days now and placed a sealed scroll on the wide table in the center of the room on which a large map was unfurled.

“As you requested, Lord Tulius has been removed. His head decorates the gates to his city.”

She didn’t pause her calm movements, pouring two goblets before turning back to face him. “And?”

“The new Lord has sworn five hundred soldiers when we ride on Gerou next month.”

She neared, jasmine and steel surrounding him once more, but she did not offer the second goblet. “And?”

“And Ardaraka will also be joining with one hundred archers and sending tribute.”

Her mouth remained steady, but an approving light shone in her eyes as she held out the goblet to him. The wordless approval rested on his brow brighter than any crown. He took the goblet carefully, gloved fingers brushing hers for a moment. Never looking away from the other, they both sipped the wine. Spices blossomed on his palette, heady and strong.

“Your work is always exemplary, General,” she said, stepping around him. Her shoulder just brushed his as she passed, burning him through his armor. “But this is to be commended.” She rounded the table and took another thoughtful sip as she sat down in the chair at the head. “Such efforts should not go unrewarded. Tell me what prize you would accept, and it shall be granted to you.”

She was a woman of her word. Up to half her kingdom could be granted to him if he but asked for it. As it was–

“There is only one prize that I desire.”

Her eyes locked to his, gaze as scorching as the suns and twice as rich. Then she set her cup down and relaxed back in the chair, a smile finally playing on her lips.

“Come and claim it then.”

Wasting no precious time, the General shed his gloves and rounded the table to stand before his Queen, eyes boring into hers, smoldering hot enough to catch flame. She offered up her hand, which he took in his, smoothing a thumb over her battle-calloused fingers before pressing a kiss to the knuckles.

“I swear to guard my Queen from harm and, with either my life or my death, ensure her continued dominion,” he whispered, repeating part of the oath he’d taken so many years ago. The solemn vow was carved on his spirit, the ethos of his life from that day onward. He turned her hand over and kissed her palm, then her wrist, feeling her steady pulse on his mouth plates. “Until my Queen releases me, death takes me, or the world ends.”

When he looked back to her face, her lips were slightly opened, eyes wide and utterly enraptured. Deep satisfaction suffused through him at the sight. Glimpses of the woman behind the crown were rare, and he coveted them jealously. For as assuredly he would follow her into death, some naive part of him longed to share her life even more. The awed warmth of her gaze kindled something deep inside him, something precious and pure. Something to be thought of only in the most private of moments and not yet voiced. Perhaps never to be spoken, only shown.

He knelt before her, basking in her rapt attention. With great care, he reached for her ankle, palm sliding up the smooth skin of her calf before stopping at her knee, which he lifted and placed on his shoulder as he moved in closer–submerging himself in jasmine and steel. Pulling her robe open, he found her completely bare underneath save for an encrusted dagger that was wrapped in a holster about her thigh.

He’d given the dagger to her not long after he came into her service. The reminder of how close she kept it on her person still sent a low shudder down his spine. Never unarmed that was his Queen, he mused, subvocals starting to purr. He traced the leather strap first with his fingers, then his mouth plates before drifting upwards and pulling her closer.

This near, her clearest scent filled his lungs–rich as earth, complex and mouth-wateringly bitter. Her thighs resting on his shoulders and his hands on her hips, he stared up at her in both wonder and desire. Her usual stoic front was holding strong for the moment, but he could see something stirring beneath her surface. He held there, waiting for the final permission. She granted it in a silent nod.

Not looking away, he kissed her center, making her eyes flutter shut momentarily. But she quickly regained her composure. It was always a battle with her, a testing of wills–he wouldn’t have it any other way. Determined, he delved deeper, still holding her eyes for as long as he could. Her hand rested at the back of his head, fingers just brushing his most sensitive area as he found hers. The sinews in her neck clenched as he circled and lapped, pushing and teasing her till she yielded for him. It came as his tongue slipped inside her warmth. Her eyes shut, mouth dropped half-open, and her hand on his head clenched, nails biting at his skin. A half-strangled gasp met his ears, sweeter than symphonies, rousing his own desire with its call.

Now it wasn’t a battle, but a crusade. Or perhaps a gauntlet, a test of his mastery of her pleasure. He never wanted to just satisfy her, to just sate her. He wanted to ruin her. To make every other partner pale in comparison. None could eclipse her in his eyes. It felt an honest, if perhaps hopeless, endeavor to strive for the same honor from her.

He pulled away from her, earning a low whimper of protest from his Queen that kicked his subvocals rumbling even lower. But he didn’t move far. His thumb circled over her center, drawing her attention, till he nipped the sensitive inner skin of her thigh. Her hips bucked at change in sensation, muscles rippling under his palms. He apologized with a swipe of his tongue, though he knew it would leave a mark. A reminder of his presence just for her.

Her other hand gripped his shoulder, a burning beacon that she was close to her end. He could retreat now, suffer her temporary wrath, for another valiant run for glory. Some nights, she let him indulge himself, bringing her closer and closer to her edge without letting her fall over. But her hand on the back of his head pulled him back to her center. No, she was not to be toyed with tonight. So he gladly surrendered to her will. Not replacing his finger, he dipped his tongue back inside her.

It took only two coordinated strokes before she fell, shuddering and clenching and gasping. She pulled him so close, curling over him as if to blur the boundaries between his being and hers. Tension shattered through her core, her limbs, stacking to insurmountable heights. Till, like a candle flame, it vanished, leaving only boneless, radiating warmth in its absence.

His Queen dropped against the back of the chair, hands relaxing their grip on him but not moving away. Her chest rose and fell as she struggled to rewrite her composure. Though before she completely succeeded, a blissful smile spread across her lips. He wished he could save it somehow, tuck it away in a cedar box at the bottom of his armory, where it would be safe and cherished as long as he drew breath.

She swallowed and let out a low hum of contentment that settled in the back of his skull. “Commendable, General,” she said, her voice smoky as torch light. “As always.”

“It is my honor, your majesty.”

“Yes, it is.” The corners of her lips tugged in amusement but didn’t spread wide again.

His subvocals rolled with his unquenched thirst, perhaps she could feel them from where his palms slid down her hips. He pulled her silk robe back into place before retreating reluctantly, standing and stepping back from her throne. She offered her hand again, which he happily took and helped her stand.

“Such… valiant effort on behalf of my realm deserves more than one reward, don’t you agree?”

He tipped his head in deference, deep parts of him agreeing with her far more vehemently. “If you wish to honor me more, who am I to deny you?”

She stepped towards him, close but not touching. Jasmine and steel surrounded him again, sending his core muscles clenching. Her chin lifted, tilting her face as if she wished to kiss him. Like a comet, he was pulled helplessly into her orbit. But she did not meet him. She, instead, hovered a hair’s breadth apart. His control shuddered as he held there with his hands clasped behind his back, knuckles paling for the effort.

After several tense seconds, her gaze met his, curiosity and something like satisfaction in her eyes. “You would deny me nothing, would you?”

“Nothing,” he repeated in a fervent whisper. His plates were starting to itch from how close yet far she was. But he refused to move till she gave him leave.

She pulled away yet rewarded his restraint with the backs of her fingers stroking along his scarred mandible. Though he couldn’t help but lean into the touch, brushing a kiss to her knuckles as her hand dropped away. He was only mortal.

“Come.” She offered her hand and led him away from the table. There was a curtained doorway that divided the war room from her sleeping quarters of the tent. She pulled back the thick fabric and stepped inside, inviting him into her most private space.

The room was not overly large, nothing like her chambers back in her fortress. Her armor, spear, and shield were displayed proudly next to the entrance. There was a space for bathing and dressing. A smaller table for her own use tucked in the corner. But the room was dominated by the large bed in the center. Not four postered and curtained like in her ancient estate by the sea, a bedroll made for travel but still strewn with cushions and luxurious enough for royalty. The scent of her hovered in the room like incense. A few candles in the corners were the only source of light, casting soft shadows around the edges of her figure.

Once inside, she didn’t let go of his hand. Instead, her nimble fingers travelled up his arm, removing vambraces and pauldrons with practiced ease. She untied his cuirass from around his carapace, fingertips brushing against his sides, before setting it carefully aside with the other pieces. When strapped with his armor and weapons, he hardly noticed the weight of them anymore. But as she pulled off each piece, breath came easier to him, though he wasn’t sure if it was relief or anticipation that filled his lungs so readily. Every plate of steel gone felt like a skin removed, stripping away the mantle of General to leave behind just him for her.

She went to remove his greaves, moving to kneel before him, when he reflexively stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. She shouldn’t– But her eyes snapped up to him, sharp and flinty.

Would you deny me this?

No, he would not. So he pulled his hand back, humbled by the rare view and trying to deny how the unique angle stirred up memories filled with desire.

She pulled off the last of his armor and then rose, her half-smile distracting him from her hand till it dragged up his completely spread plates over his pants. That made him flinch and suck in a sharp breath, sparks leapt onto the crumbling tower of his composure.

“Too much?” she asked in a low voice. His eyes opened to find her looking at him intensely, brows flickering just towards each other.

He shook his head. “Never.”

She repeated the action, but he was ready for her this time. The gentle pressure emanated out through his whole person, making his subvocals sputter and stop for a moment. He was absolutely weeping in his sheath, but she stopped before it became too much.

With just one hand at his waist, the sensation muted from his underclothes but knee-buckling all the same, she urged him to sit on the foot of her bed. He was closer to her face this way, giving him a chance to admire the sharp line of her jaw, how her eyes were inky black haloed with thin green. She was breathtaking on the field and away.

Breaking all contact with him, she edged into the space between his knees, commanding his complete attention without a word. Not letting him look away, she loosened the tie of her robe. It slipped off her shoulders and pooled on the ground, leaving her only in her dagger. He found an anchor in the silk sheets beneath him, talons gripping the fabric for dear life. Her eyes proclaimed proudly that she knew exactly what the sight of all of her was doing to him. His gaze greedily swept over her figure, like a bandit discovering a pirate’s hoard, taking in the exotic curves and admiring the few pale scars. The need to put his hands on her and pull her close scalded his palms. He longed to kiss every freckle that dotted her skin, to hear her gasp his name as he buried himself inside her. She let him admire for a few breathless moments, but twisted the dagger when she lifted her holstered leg to rest her foot on his knee.

“Would you help me, General?” she asked calmly, as if asking for him to bring her the weather reports.

He swallowed, hard. Then again. No, growling subvocals would not allow words she could understand now. So he instead simply obeyed, unwinding the leather strap before pulling it through the buckle. His hands only trembled slightly, but stilled as the steadying weight of the dagger dropped into his palm. He offered it to her, pride shoring him up as he persevered under her visual onslaught.

She took it from him and turned away, long hair tossing over her shoulder and brushing against his face for just a moment. “Would you want some Aephusian Ale?” she asked, sashaying away with a pronounced hip swing that he could not ignore. “I know how much you enjoy it.”

“Of course,” he rumbled, dropping his gaze away from her to gain his bearings more. A few deep breaths cleared his head enough for her return, proffering a dark glass bottle. His attention could not be afforded anywhere but on her as he took a sip, not quite paying attention till the taste registered.

Garrus blinked. “This… this is actually Aephusian Ale,” he said, looking down at the bottle in his hand. It tasted exactly like the drink in the book. Spirits, where had Shepard found this?

“Of course it is,” his Queen said in a low voice, pulling him back in as she stepped closer. “You think I don’t know my best General’s favorite drink?”

He smiled softly up at her. “I am humbled by your attentions,” the General replied.

She moved even closer, nearly touching him now. He could feel the warmth radiating lowly off her skin. It grew stronger as she leaned towards him, head angling once again for a kiss. And like before, she stopped a grain of sand away, though this time a strangled whine snuck up the back of his throat before he quickly cut it off.

A gloating look floated through her eyes. “Your orders are to retreat, General.”

Unsure precisely what she meant, he frowned slightly up at her. She waved her hand and it clicked. It wasn’t graceful, but he moved backwards across the bed, only stopping when the back of his carapace met the cushions already set up to support him. As if to make up for his lack of coordination, his Queen prowled towards him, a hungry look simmering in her eye. Feeling trapped in the very best way, he set aside the ale.

She crawled all the way up to straddle his lap, dropping herself the last inch and expelling a soft groan from his gut at the sudden contact. But it transformed in a low growl as she rocked her hips, rubbing her sodden center over his sheath. His swollen cock begged to be released, trapped by her and his pants, and her steady, eddying pressure was delicious torture. But she was nefarious and brutal, his Queen, and she reminded him of that as her arms wound around his shoulders, fingers trailing up his neck to the skin under his fringe. He could have borne the burden without complaint had she not also dipped her head and finally pressed that craved kiss not to his mouth but to his vulnerable throat.

That finally broke him.

“Please,” he bit out, head dropped back in utter submission. “Please, your majesty.”

She kissed his neck once, twice more, and then bit down. It wasn’t enough to leave a mark through his skin, but his whole body jerked, jostling her and halting her slow grinding. Without any rush, she lifted herself up off his lap to meet his eyes, a palm smoothing down his fringe.

“Yes, General? Is there something you desire?” she asked in that same calm voice.

“You.” His subvocals were shredded with clawing need. “Always you.”

Hands cradling his face, she tilted his head forward enough to press her brow to his in a turian kiss. The simple yet profound gesture blew right through simple carnal desire, landing square in the deep unspeakable truth at his very core. Eyes shut, he pressed up against her as fervently as the angle would allow, letting his subvocals sing with the words he didn’t dare to utter.

She pulled back for a moment, soothing fingers brushing along his mandibles, then leaned back in, lips so close to his mouth. But this time, she whispered, “Kiss me.”

And he did, surging forward to claim her mouth with his. After so much build-up and denial, it rapidly deepened to something needy and demanding. Technique and skill were completely abandoned in favor of pure sensation. He needed her tongue tangled with his, her breath in his lungs. Oh, though it was so blissfully wonderful to taste her again, it was not enough. Nothing less than all of her would suffice.

“Please, my Queen,” he rumbled, tracing his mandible along the smooth line of her jaw. “I need you. Please.”

She kissed him once more, rising up on her knees to break the pressure on his waist and tilt his head back as far as it would go. Her hand rested on his throat, fingertips tracing small circles on either side and pulling uncontrollable shudders from him with every small movement.

“I’m already yours. Take me,” she whispered with a slight smile.

She obviously had not been prepared for his attack as she let out a small cry when he flipped their positions, tossing her back on the bed with as much care as he could muster. It turned into a breathless chuckle as he pulled away just long enough to wrench his trousers off. A deep groan left him as he was finally freed from his sheath, relief sparkling down his spine and numbing the back of his skull.

“Can always count on you to be ready for battle,” she mused.

He had plans to remove his shirt too and possibly say something witty back. But all thoughts were driven from his head as he caught a glimpse of his Queen completely splayed on the bed, dark eyes taking in his figure, her hand sliding down her stomach with obvious intent. He caught it before it reached its destination, pressing another quick kiss to her pulse. She groaned softly at being interrupted.

“I would deny you nothing, your Majesty. But it is my honor to be the only one to please you this evening,” he purred, nipping a kiss to her collarbone.

“Then what are you waiting for?” She sounded annoyed, though there was a telling glimmer in her eyes that spoke otherwise. He lifted one of her legs into the crook of his elbow and leaned forward, just enjoying the low whimpers she made as he rocked through her heat.

“Absolutely nothing.” And he kissed her again as he finally joined with his Queen. Twin groans floated through the air of the tent as he immediately set a deep and thorough pace. Her clenching heat around him demanded his full attention, everything else but her disappeared from his mind. Her tongue tangled with his, and her fingers trailed down his fringe.

He kissed every inch of her skin that he could reach, running his tongue along her throat, nuzzling mandibles across her shoulders. She returned the favor with her own kisses up his neck, though his steady rhythm stuttered when she bit him again. Spirits, she knew him too well. Though he knew her just the same, and so he left his own nips along her collarbones, the base of her neck, anywhere that could be hidden by her armor. The evidence of their love was just for their knowledge.

Her low swears and strangled groans were the sweetest tune he’d ever heard. But he wanted the full symphony. An honest-to-the-gods whimper escaped her throat when he stilled and pulled back. Oh. He’d proudly wear that as a medal of honor on his breast if she could mint it.

“I’m not leaving,” he promised breathlessly. He lifted her hips and slid a cushion underneath, changing the angle of their meeting. “Still good?”

She clenched her inner muscles around him with a smirk.

“Fuck,” he groaned in answer to his own question.

“You have not yet been relieved of duty, Gen–” The end of her word changed into a deep moan as he rocked once, testing the new arrangement on his knees. Holding her open with his grip on her leg, he moved again, enjoying thoroughly watching the collision ripple through her body and hearing the echoes in her voice. Her hands stretched out for him but failed to reach their mark as he pressed the pad of his thumb to her clit, circling in the pattern he knew she liked best. She went fully lax, granting him full command over her pleasure.

“Look at me,” he pleaded, more subvocal than voice. But she obeyed. She demanded his continual gaze with hers, and neither looked away as he drove them steadily to their peak. Her acquiescence to his strategy started to crumble, however, as they drew close. A hand found purchase on his hip, pulling him closer, deeper, More. He eagerly surrendered what advantages distance allowed him in movement for the feeling of tucking his face against her neck.

Her cries abruptly spiked in pitch, and he just managed to catch her mouth with his for one last kiss before she reached bliss. Her body shuddering in his arms, and her slick heat clenching around him finished him off. Gratification shot down his spine, white hot and addictingly pure. He held tight to her, muscles locking as he convulsed once, twice, three times. Then every bit of tension in his body evaporated, all thought reducing to a rich blissfulness, thick enough to float away in.

A five-fingered hand rested on the back of his neck, stroking slowly up and down. Reflexes drunk-slow, he opened his eyes to find his Queen half-beneath him, looking nearly as relaxed as he felt. She caught his eye and a slow smile spread across her face, growing so fond it bubbled up into a low affectionate laugh. He pressed his brow to hers, a hand slipping into her hair, and laughed with her.

The air between them was saturated with the Unspoken. But it could barely be anymore blatantly stated than in his every small kiss upon her cheek. Every adjustment of limbs so they fit together even neater than before. Every slowing breath they shared as more one than two.

Her hand insinuated itself between his tunic and the small of his back, stroking his spine before tugging on the shirt.

“Remove this,” she murmured, eyes half open. “Your Queen demands it.”

“I don’t want to harm you,” he replied lowly, a hand smoothing over her bare hip.

“Do you think I’m as fragile as that?”

He shook his head. “Not fragile… precious.”

That wide eyed, awed look returned to her face, so wholly honest it took his breath away for a moment. Then she moved, crawling over him and kissing him once before pulling him up to sitting. She removed his tunic and then wrapped him in a long hug. The steady presence of her skin on his was centering in a way he couldn’t quite describe. The world, the galaxy fell into balanced order every time.

He hummed as she kissed his neck, slowly, luxuriously. Desire stirring slightly with the delicate attentions. She made her way leisurely up the length, pressing a final kiss to the side of his head then whispering, “You are so precious to me.”

His breath caught in his chest, but she didn’t pull away. More kisses made their way down his mandible then meeting his mouth in gentle caresses. She cradled his head in her arms, a hand brushing down his fringe.

“I don’t know where I’d be without you.” The look in her eyes was so fervently honest, he couldn’t do anything but stare up at her. The lines between Shepard and his Queen blurring till he wasn’t sure which one continued speaking. “I owe you my life more times over than I can ever repay. I never want to know what life is like without you at my side.”

His hands slid up her spine to pull her down for another kiss, adamant and just shy of bruising. “You’ll never have to know,” he swore to her, brow pressed to hers. “Not while it’s in my power. You’ll never know.”

She nodded and kissed him again, her breath shaking for reasons unrelated to the need in his touch. Her hands roved his body, finger tips slipping between plates, palms over his waist, while her mouth stayed steady on his. But there was no teasing in her touch this time, just devotion so pure it humbled him to receive it.

“Let me show you,” she whispered before kissing him deeply. “Please.”

He nodded, and her kisses drifted down his neck, across his cowl and down his carapace. Every muscle in his body clenched as he finally realized her intention. She stopped and looked up at him, but he was already nodding when her gaze met his. It turned warm and fond, and she settled on her stomach between his legs, pressing a chaste kiss to his hip.

He hadn’t reemerged from his sheath yet, though his plates were still fully relaxed. However, as she started drawing slow designs with her fingertips across his waist, he could already feel the efficacy in her small gestures. The sight of her was transfixing, hypnotic. Every puff of warm breath across his most sensitive skin electrified him.

As she kissed him, an unstoppable moan dropped from his mouth. She smiled up at him and kept at her work, persistent and skilled. Every time after, he swore to himself that he’d exaggerated in his memory how good her mouth felt on him. And every time, she proved him wrong. It took no time at all till he slid out and directly into her waiting mouth. It was so perfect, it seared.

“Shepard,” he moaned, talons gripping the bed underneath him for dear life. She pulled back, giving him a break from the onslaught.

“Too much?” she asked. He looked down and nearly moaned again, shuddering instead. A slight blush had formed over her cheeks, and her hand was resting loosely at his base.

“You have ruined me… for anyone but you… my Queen,” he said in reply.

She smirked. “Good.” You’re mine. And she approached again less directly, slight kisses, gentle passes with her tongue. He willfully surrendered to her, focusing on her touch, her presence.

It always felt an honor to receive such… attention from one such as her. But right now, it felt more a gesture of trust. She could trust him to give her only what she desired. And whole-heartedly, he felt the very same. Her moaning while his length buried as deep as she could take him nearly brought him to his metaphorical knees. He’d follow her anywhere, even to his own blissful end, which she seemed very determined to deliver him to. But perhaps–

He rested a hand on her shoulder, whining at both the sight and feel of her soft mouth sliding up his length. It made his thoughts scatter like sand under a gale wind.

“Together,” he managed, swallowing hard to try and control his roiling subvocals. “I want… together. Please?”

She smiled and kissed his tip, sending one last jolt through his system, before retreating. “Since you asked so nicely.”

He had to literally shake sense back into his head before he could move from where she’d left him. “Come here,” he said, shifting up to his knees and stumbling forward for the effort.

“You alright?” Her voice bobbed in amusement.

“Like I said, you ruined me.” He took her hand and pulled her close, kissing her once, then again for good measure. Then he moved behind her, pulling her back to his front.

“Oh,” she said slowly as he rocked between her thighs. His subvocals sang in agreement. She smelled so good–salt and jasmine and them. She was so warm already. The thought that pleasuring him ignited her in the best way burned up the last of his patience.

He pulled her hair aside and nibbled a kiss to her neck. “I want you,” he breathed against her ear.

“Please,” she whispered back. She guided him inside her, both of them letting out a long slow breath at their joining. His hands roved her body, smoothing across hips and circling her breasts, as he encouraged her to sit back into his lap. They weren’t joined as deeply as before, but this angle always brushed against her most sensitive places with the slightest of movement. An advantage he exploited to immediate benefits.

Rocking together felt more natural than breathing. Her hands intertwined with his, pressing one down between her legs and the other to her breast. He gave her the pressure she desired gladly and continued whispering a low growl in her ear.

“You don’t understand how thoroughly you have ruined me for anyone that isn’t you. I couldn’t want my own kind anymore even if I tried.”

She answered with a wordless cry, her spine undulating in a way that should have been physically impossible and was so alluringly easy for her. Still he kept up the rhythm, subvocals purring at how perfect she felt against him, around him.

“How could anyone measure up after I’ve had you? My Queen… my Commander.”

She shuddered and moaned, a hand reaching back to grip his neck. “Your voice–Gar–General–”

“That’s it, my Queen. Focus on me and let go.” He let loose a subvocal rumble loud enough that she had to hear it. Her answering cry echoed around the tent.

They hadn’t been particularly quiet up to this point, and their involvement was a poorly kept secret. Still, the thought of any guard just outside hearing her right now, knowing what she sounded like in rapture. He caught her mouth with his, swallowing her cry and turning it to whimpers.

“No one but me gets to hear you like this tonight.”

“Yes, Garrus.”

The sound of his real name pleaded so desperately shot straight to his core, immediately imploding. He pressed his brow to hers and circled his fingers on her clit, making her kiss him again to moan in response.

“Garrus–General. General, please. I–”

“I’m here. I’ll always be right here,” he vowed solemnly, meaning it as truly as the Unspoken.

She sobbed, the hand on his neck sliding up to scrape dull nails across the skin under his fringe. He throbbed inside her, his own release having snuck up on him in his focus on her.

“With me?” she asked, her voice tight and desperate.

“Always.”

And with a kiss they fell over the edge together.

It was several minutes later that Garrus opened his eyes to a world made entirely of red hair. The two of them had simply slipped sideways on the bed, still intertwined with each other. Shepard before him was breathing steadily, slowly.

He pressed a kiss to the back of her head. “You alright?”

She nodded. “I need a quick break though,” she said, her words slurring slightly.

“Me too.” He pulled away enough to turn her onto her back and stretched out next to her. For a few minutes, he just admired her face, fingers combing through her hair till it laid flat on the bed.

“How did you make it so much longer?” he asked quietly.

She reached up into her hair and something snapped, then a section of the long hair came out.

“That’s… not yours?” he asked, more than a little bewildered.

“Well, it’s mine in that I own it. But I didn’t grow this hair, no.” She repeated the process a few more times, removing all the pieces from her scalp till just her usual shoulder length hair remained.

“That’s… disturbing.”

“I wanted to be authentic,” she replied with a shrug. “You liked it till you knew.”

He grunted, not wanting to agree, and reached for his long-abandoned bottle. “Speaking of authentic, how did you find actual Aephusian Ale in the middle of a war?”

She turned to her stomach and grinned. “You can find many things when you’re as powerful a queen as I am.”

He laughed and took a sip, savoring the unique flavors of the brew. “Do you want your mead? It’s back on the desk.”

“Yeah, I’ll get it.” She rolled away and hopped up the stairs to her office. He couldn’t help but admire how her curves were highlighted in the low glow from the fishtank and the one candle they’d dared on the coffee table. A slow smile spread across her face when she noticed him staring on her return.

“See something you like?” she purred, kneeling down next to him.

He wrapped an arm around her waist. “I see many things I like.”

She chuckled and sipped her drink, a hand idly stroking along his fringe. A turian could die happy like this, he thought, drinking his ale.

“Anything I can do different?” she asked after a minute. “Should the Queen be more aloof?”

He looked up at her and shook his head. “You’re perfect.”

Her slow smile returned. “You make a damn fine General, Vakarian.”

He chuckled. “Anything for my Queen.” Her smile changed to something more coy, nearly shy. Then he realized– “You like being my Queen, don’t you?”

A pink tint spread across the tops of her cheeks as she refused to look at him, taking another long sip instead. He set his ale down on the floor and sat up to nuzzle a kiss to her neck.

“It’s not so strange, is it?” She let him take her cup away as she continued speaking. “To like having the man you love promise devotion and loyalty… even if it’s just a story?”

He held her hands in his and pressed his forehead to hers, subvocals humming the Unspoken once more. “It’s not all a story,” he whispered. Her eyes opened to meet his. “You know that already, right?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Good.” Not looking away, he pushed her back on the bed and laid down at her side. They found the fit between themselves, arms wrapped around each other. He rested his brow against hers again, eyes shut. “I swear to guard my Commander from harm… and, with either my life or my death, ensure the success of her mission,” he promised in a low voice.

“I love you too,” she whispered back.

When he opened his eyes, they were back in the tent. Jasmine and tempered steel drifted on the soft desert wind. But it was Shepard–his Shepard–who laid in the bed with him. All the tragedies and horrors of their real lives left behind, even if only for a few minutes. Her warm regard shone out through her eyes, not held back but freely offered.

They pulled closer still. Her arms slipped up around his neck, and he lifted her leg over his waist. He kissed her like that for a long while, brushing mandibles over her cheeks to match her movements best he could. No words spoken, but none needed. Just the tempo of her breath told him everything he needed to know.

Slowly yet steadily, they came together. He held her eyes as long as he could, watching every slight expression in her eyes. They were so different, the two of them. And yet he never felt more understood, more Known, than he did when he was with her. She pressed his brow to hers, mouth moving with unspoken words that he felt deeper than his bones. They were unhurried, confident in their destination yet nearly satisfied to never arrive. Following the other in a dance they knew and loved so well at this point. A dance that Garrus quietly hoped would continue for the rest of their long, long lives till they could be buried in each other’s gaze.

Shepard pulled closer still at the end, tucking her face against his neck and tensing before a long shudder ran through her core. A quiet echo of response answered from his center, filling any remaining air between them with a gentle warmth.

They were both quiet for several minutes, still wrapped completely around the other. If he had just a touch less self-control, Garrus might have been content to drift off to sleep just like that. But the evening, while thoroughly enjoyable, had made a bit of a mess.

“We should clean up,” he said quietly, without moving.

“Yes,” came the eventual reply from the area below his chin.

“...We have to move to do that.”

“You move. I’m too fucked to move.”

That made him chuckle and he pulled away, rolling up to standing next to the bed. Shepard groaned and made a weak attempt to pull him back, hand flopping against the bed.

“Well if you can’t walk, let me carry you then, your magnificence, to the royal baths.”

She laughed as he lifted her from the bed and whisked her off to the bathroom. They both grunted as the bright light flipped on when they entered. But the steaming water from the shower soon soothed any sting.

Shepard eventually got down, but still stayed within his arms, very content to let him wash her hair and rub sore muscles. He felt much the same as she returned the favor, cleaning him with a dedicated care that quieted his mind.

“Is there anything like this?” she mused as she shut the water off.

Garrus reached for a towel. “Hm?”

“In the book. Do the General and Queen do anything like this?”

“Oh.” He wrapped the towel around her shoulders as he thought. “There is a scene in a hot spring that’s pretty famous.”

She smiled and wrung out her hair. “Mm. I like hot springs.”

“Me too.”

They fell into the quiet routine of sleep, the late hour finally catching up to both of them. Shepard didn’t speak again till she eased into the bed next to him, under freshly changed sheets.

“So what happens?” she asked as he looped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “In the book, how does it end?”

He stared at her for a long moment and then answered honestly, grimly. “She sacrifices herself for the good of her people. And though he carries on, he never loves another. How could he?”

Her warm expression dimmed. “That’s… disappointing.”

“That’s turian romance.”

She shook her head and adjusted her fit in his arms, tucking an ankle into his spur. “Let’s change it. She… goes to sacrifice herself for the good of the people. But… he gets there in the nick of time, like always. And together… they win. Go on to have many more adventures and found the new turian empire.”

He smiled and threaded a hand into her hair, eyes drifting shut. “Much better.”

taglist: @me-fish ; @seleenermparis-blog ; @kelenloth ; @ferociousqueak

[shnuggletea]

This is my entry for the Inuparents Day 2021! I was paired with a lovely and talented artist @kirrtash​. She'll be posting this fic with her art on her AO3 account for us. You can also find her Ko-fi account here! Make sure you check out her page for the AMAZING art that goes with this fic! I'm so glad I got to work with her; this was a true collab as I really felt she was working with me the entire time. I enjoyed every minute of this event! Thank you so much @inuparentsday​ for hosting and sharing with all of us! 

Link to AO3 HERE!!!

If you want more from this event (and trust me, you totally do) here's the Tumblr page! I would post the AO3 page buuuuutttt yeah I deleted mine lol! But there is one as well!!

Playlist is right here!!

TAGS!!!

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Chapter One

“Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it.”

― Mahatma Gandhi

It was a cold night. The kind that made your skin tense as soon as you stepped out into it. It also had a tendency to make a man’s scrotum shrivel and seek warmth. Not something they liked to talk about… usually.

“God damn it’s cold! My balls are up my ass!” Toga said at a level that made it even more inappropriate.

Miya shook his head, the image of Toga dancing on his toes to stay warm filling his brain. “How unpleasant that must be for you…”

“No, seriously! And those are big balls…”

Sitting back from his scope, the Monk pulled his shoulder-length black strands back and tied them there. “Just because we’re on comms doesn’t mean you have to talk so loud. No one is supposed to know you’re there, remember?”

“Right, right, right,” Toga was silent save for his huffing, warming up his hands with his breath, “still fucking cold though…”

“For fucks sake, aren’t you a demon? The temperature shouldn’t bother you!”

Pulling the sight around, Miya zeroed in on the loud mouth, shifting on his toes just as he knew Toga would be. He lifted his gold eyes right at him, somehow knowing Miya had turned his sights onto him. “Yeah, I’m a dog demon. I’m just as if not more sensitive to cold than insensitive humans like you!”

“Say that a little louder, I don’t think the old lady across the street from you heard it.”

“She needs new batteries in her hearing aid…”

“You couldn’t possibly know that!”

“I do, she just told the Shopkeep when she went inside.”

“Can you focus? Use that extra sensitive hearing to find our target?!”

“Can’t find what’s not there, Miya.”

“Then keep searching, Toga!!”

It was silent again but only for a second. “Now who’s being too loud…” Miya growled, getting to his feet and pacing away to kick something. “Calm down, you’re going to have a stroke.”

“Why the hell do I put up with you?”

Miya didn’t need to see Toga to know he was smirking. “Cause I’m the best. And who else you got? Myouga?” As much as he didn’t want to, a laugh sputtered loudly out of him, one the dog demon would have heard even without their comms. “See? You need me and I need you. Now get back to your post.”

Sighing and groaning, he did as ordered; laying down on the cold pavement of the thirty-story building he was perched on. He wasn’t an idiot, Toga placed him this high to keep him ‘safe’ if they found who/what they were looking for. It had been over an hour but Miya knew better than to question Toga’s judgment. Or Myouga’s intel.

Toga was cursing the inconvenience of it all. Winter was by far his least favorite season and he swore the others knew it too. It was why they waited until the middle of the season and hours after sunset to pull this crap. It was all to mess with Toga and nothing anyone said would change his mind about that. The heat from playing with Miya flooded out quickly so he was back to bouncing on his toes.  It made his two blades smack against his thighs but that was a nice distraction from the cold as well.

Black toboggan on his head was large enough to cover his ears and his long silvery-white hair covered his neck. But it was his fucking hands and feet, his fingers and toes numb with cold. 

He hated cold feet. 

Humans passed and didn’t even glance in his direction. And why would they? Humans had no clue of his existence. Him or anyone similar (like Miya) were a secret from the world. Even though Miya was far from a demon; he wasn’t human either. It was that difference that had Toga placing Miya on the high building and far from the fight. If there was even a fight to be had. 

He wouldn’t be surprised if this was all a rouse to force him to stand out in the cold all damn night!

That was until he smelled it. “Miya… they’re here.”

“You’re sure?”

Toga glanced upward towards the tiny dot. If he were human, he wouldn’t be able to see the agitation on Miya’s face. But he wasn’t human and it was always there. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

He pulled out So’unga and moved to the outer edge of the alley he hid in, glancing around. “Toga, get back! I’m here to scout not you!”

“Even with that scope you still see shit.”

“Toga, it’s an order! Get back!!”

“I’ll be fi….”

Toga was cut off, ice splitting up from his feet towards his heart. Leaping back, he avoided impalement with relative ease. When he found the perpetrator, Toga didn’t hold back his laugh in the slightest. “Good to see you too, Snowflake.”

The cat demon was growling at him and it had just as much to do with the fact that she was a cat and him a dog as it did that he called her ‘Snowflake’. “That’s not my name!!”

“Right, right, right. What was it again?” Toga teased.

If she wasn’t wearing a black hoodie that covered up all her fur, it would be standing up in anger. “It’s Toran, prick!!”

She slung out her arm and ice followed in a path along the ground. Toga stepped to the side to avoid it; making it seem like child’s play. “Well that’s not very nice. At least my nickname for you is a term of endearment. Yours sounds like an insult.”

Toga had his lower lip popped out and Toran roared, pissed. “IT IS AN INSULT!!!”

Glancing around, Toga saw that his little distraction had worked; the street was clear of all possible casualties. They had all seen the display the kitty cat had made and smartly left the area. Which was good because now Toran was tearing up the whole area with her rage; jagged and angry ice breaking up the sidewalk and pavement as it shot upward without warning.

Toga jumped and dodged it all, keeping his hands in his pockets. “Ice. Just had to be ice.”

The already frigid air was made much colder with the glacier that surrounded them. A small arena of sorts, Toga released a slow breath and watched the white puff float away. 

Toran broke out of her thoughts of murder for a moment and spun to find him; realizing quickly (but too late) that it was just the two of them now. “What have you done?!”

“Me? You’re the one creating your own ice castle. You know, for an Ice Queen, you sure are hot headed.”

Toga smirked while the cat hissed, throwing out her arm again. Only this time the ice didn’t form on the ground. It shot out of her hand like a missile; long and sharp like a spear. Aimed right at his heart.

He moved out of its way with little struggle. “Careful there Snowflake! Pretty sure your Boss didn’t order you to kill me!”

Toran shuddered and then turned her head back and forth to work out the tension. “No. Not not you.”

The smirk that grew on her face had Toga dropping his. Spinning on his feet was a pointless gesture, they had comms after all. “Miya! Look out!!”

This was why Toran’s attacks were lackluster and easy to dodge. He had thought she was holding back to keep from killing him. But no, it was because her attention and powers were split; ice racing up the front of the building Miya perched on. It shot out of the top in deadly spikes completely destroying the top floors of the short tower. And Miya was silent. Myouga hadn’t told them the target but given the location Toga had assumed it was a human they were after. And he was half right.

“He’s a human with demon powers. Powers that are extremely dangerous for demons; a Black Hole. Why you’ve allowed him to not only live but also stay by your side is a wonder, Fighting Fang. He shouldn’t be allowed to live…”

“Miya has lived just fine by mine and your side for a time. You pick now, of all, times to kill him?!” Toga screamed.

Toran’s smirk grew to a grin and she shrugged. “Orders are orders.”

“Oh?” They both turned and found the monk, a little out of breath, but with his sniper rifle on one arm and his hand out at the ready. “Good to know my life is worth so little. But I knew that already.”

Toga rolled his eyes at the drama queen. Miya had his fist closed tight but the runes that covered the cursed hand were removed. He was ready to kill. 

“You won’t do that! Not with Fighting Fang so close! You don’t have the control to suck up only me!” Toran said while shaking with her fear.

Miya tilted his head to the side at her and glanced over at Toga. “That’s true. But he’s such a pain in the ass…”

“HEY!”

The monk used the small distraction to whip his rifle up and fire. He got Snowflake in the upper thigh and she released a loud whimper mixed with a roar. The shot to the leg didn’t slow her down as she leaped away over her ice walls.

Toga turned back to his friend, a lopsided grin on his face. “I knew you wouldn’t risk it, buddy.”

“I should have. She got away.”

Now at his side in a flash, Toga clapped a hand on Miya’s shoulder. “You got her in the leg! Without aiming!!”

“I was aiming. For her gut. I missed.”

“But not completely!”

Miya pulled away roughly from his friend and surveyed the damage. “Those nosy people are going to have a coronary when they get word of this.”

“Speaking of, we should get out of here. I’m sure they’re already on their way.”

Toga grabbed Miya by the collar and hoisted them both to another high building; one not destroyed and closer to the scene below. It was a mixture of cops and men in lab coats. Toga didn’t know how much Miya could make out from their distance but he was sure the ones in lab coats were the ones that were at the last mess they made. One in particular was hard to miss; his long black ponytail stood out amongst the others. And he was becoming a constant in their lives.

He was becoming a problem.

“Izayoi, take a look at this for me please.”

Setting down her notes and her pencil, Izayoi straightened her lab coat as she made her way to her colleague’s microscope. Quickly, she pulled back and tied her long black locks out of her way and leaned over. Her colleague had stepped back out of her way and said nothing; so there was no bias.

“This can’t be right. It appears… deformed.”

“Right? I thought so too!”

Stepping back, Izayoi took the sample’s file and began reading. “It says here it was taken from an incident on fifth and Topsail last night? But it doesn’t say anything about the incident or those involved.”

The woman next to her nodded in silence and Izayoi handed her back the file, hurriedly leaving the lab to the one down and across the hall. The man she was looking for was directing boxes that looked like they were filled with ice of all things. He glanced up at her and quickly signed the form in his hands and pushed the attendant off hurriedly. “Dr. Hime, how are you finding your new lab?”

Izayoi shook her head. “It’s fine, Dr. Setsuna, but I’m here about the samples you sent us?”

“What about them?”

“Well… what are they?!”

He chuckled at her and she felt her blood rise to her temples. “That’s your job to figure out, isn’t it?”

“Sir, all science aside, it’s difficult to ascertain much from a few drops of blood when we know so little about it…”

“Run it through the database and see if you get a match.”

She squeezed the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. Izayoi liked her job, she really did, until it started to become some kind of cloak and dagger operation and Takemaru got promoted. “We already did that and it came up with nothing.”

“Of course it did.” Takemaru mused quietly.

“Excuse me?” 

Izayoi’s attention shot up to her boss but he shook his head with a fake smile. “Nothing. Just mark everything that you find in what you have, Izayoi.”

She turned and left quickly; part in frustration but also because it bothered her greatly when Takemaru spoke informally to her. Just because he was her boss now didn’t mean it was appropriate. Quite the opposite. With so much more going on, Izayoi let it go. For now.

Back in her lab and feeling safe, she looked over the blood sample again. Five had been taken and although they all looked the same they had different locations marked in their file. Izayoi looked again, taking the sample her colleague had away from her (and she was gracious to have it off her plate too). Switching back and forth, Izayoi looked over the DNA results again. They were inconclusive; the only recognizable strands reminded her of feline DNA while the rest were mutated or something. But she noticed one thing; although from different locations the blood was from the same person.

“Maybe the cat DNA is the answer?” She asked herself. The lab was empty as Izayoi got lost in her task. 

Even though all the same, she didn’t want to risk any more contamination, taking each sample and amplifying them. Polymerase Chain Reaction took a few hours so Izayoi left for the small cafeteria (more like a break room with a coffee maker and vending machines) for a cup of coffee. She had taken a seat at the small table in the middle when bodies hustled hurriedly past the door.

Leaving her cup behind, Izayoi leapt to her feet and followed as fast as she could behind the small group of overly excited Scientist. They went to the loading bay which was odd in itself. The loading bay was for supplies like chemicals and printing paper. Nothing exciting came through here except when her new genetic analyzer arrived. Izayoi doubted this many were excited over something like that. It was also far too late for a delivery; already nearing ten pm. 

Standing off to the side, she hid as she watched the large armored car as it backed into the loading dock. A few men in police uniform hopped out; Izayoi’s confusion and curiosity increased at the sight. One opened the back doors while the other stood right behind, his weapon up and armed. 

Everything that Izayoi could have possibly imagined dropped to the floor and shattered as a man walked off the truck. His long silver hair was pulled back and swung as he looked around at the group of men that surrounded him. It was pretty.

Izayoi shook her head of the thought, focusing on the man. His red jacket and dark jeans hid his body from her but he looked normal otherwise. He had drawn purple streaks on his face just under his eyes for some reason. She couldn’t see his eyes from where she hid or make out many details of his face but the purple was hard to miss. 

Her eyes traveled down to his hands; cuffed in front of him. He had long, sharp looking nails. And they looked thick and dangerous even from a distance. Her thoughts were interrupted when the man lifted his joined wrists and held his hands up. Everyone jumped except her as she watched with rapt attention; intrigued to just what the man was going to say.

“I come in peace.”

Her eyes rolled instantly and she let out a loud huff. What the hell was this guy even doing here? And why was the staff of Takemaru’s lab about to wet themselves with excitement?

She hadn’t seen him the entire time, too focused on the ‘specimen’ on the truck, but now Takemaru stood before the strange man with a wicked looking grin. He looked over the man in cuffs but said nothing to him, turning to his men who salivated behind. “Take him to the lab.”

They didn’t take the usual hallway. Instead they took the man the back way designed for deliveries. Izayoi stepped back and completely out of sight; sneaking down the hall and back to her lab. When the noise from Takemaru’s lab reached hers, she slowly left hers again and snuck down the hall. When she peeked inside, there was nothing out of the ordinary so she straightened herself and walked right in. Only to be stopped by Takemaru.

“Dr. Hime? What are you doing here?”

“I work here.” She said plainly. “I’m still working on those samples you gave me…”

“Oh there’s no rush. You don’t need to worry about them anymore.” He said, waving a hand at her like it was no big deal.

“I don’t need to worry?! Sir, I spent all day running them. I’m not about to drop them…”

“Fine, Izayoi, you do what you need to. In your lab.”

He was kicking her out and she resisted the urge to run from the informality; stretching on her toes to look around him instead. “Did you get a new project?”

Takemaru swayed and moved in her way more, blocking her view completely from spying the back of his lab. “It’s ‘need to know’.”

Izayoi seethed. Ever since Takemaru got promoted (over her) he acted like it was some kind of ‘boy’s club’. That’s what it was, all the men in the room moving around without issue while she was stuck in the doorway. She was sure that was how Takemaru got promoted instead of herself. Even with a few women on the board it was very much a ‘man’s world’ in the lab as of late. As much as it pissed her off they did give her a nice raise. And she loved her work as well as those who worked in her lab. 

She would put up with it for now until a better offer came along. As it stood, this was the only lab in town that could handle her caliber of study. Didn’t mean she had to pretend she was okay with it, huffing as she turned on her heel. “Whatever, Dr. Setsuna. Enjoy your new toy.”

Let them think they’re keeping their secrets. Izayoi was sure she would figure them out soon. She hated secrets. Secrets and liars her two main pet peeves. It was the reason she became a scientist. To discover all the secrets the world held and to uncover any lies. This was all just another mystery for her to unravel.

And unravel, she would.

[houndin-around]

Covenant | Maul

warnings; slight age gap? I guess, can’t remember if there’s cursing oops, boss-employee relationship

a/n; First ofF I’M DROPPING THIS BC IT’S A SPECIAL SOMEONE’S BIRTHDAYYYYY!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY KENNA ILY<3 @hxldmxdxwn 

- I’ve been avoiding dropping this because I’m super self conscious about my writing but oh well here we goooo! This is a more modern AU even though I use a lot of SW terms/lore but i’ll probably branch out as we go on throught he chapters. Takes place in coruscant and reader is 23! Maul ios around 30-31 haven’t fully decided yet. Uh hope everyone enjoys this!!

Summary; Getting an opportunity at a reputable company, you’re eager to show everyone what you’re made of. The only odd part is...no one knows who the owner is. 

not my gif

Curses rolled off your tongue as the silence was disturbed by the raucous alarm emitting from your phone. Hurriedly you tried to silence it, avoiding waking up your partner that is sleeping next to you. The clock read 4:55 am and the sky was still pitch black. Yet the lights of Galactic City never died, it was hard to get rid of the illumination in your room. Even some curtains weren’t enough to block the livelihood, something you still have yet to get used to. Staring up at the ceiling, the dread of leaving the warmth that consumed you whole was winning the battle lulling you back to sleep. Another ear-piercing song flowed out of your phone causing you to jolt upright. Rubbing the back of your neck, a sigh escaped your lips before you tossed your legs over the side of the mattress. From the second alarm, your boyfriend grumbled before turning over, aggressively pulling the sheets over himself.

Today was the day of your brand new job. Anxiety nestled in your gut the more you thought about it so you tried not to. Two years ago you were leaving Naboo and your family after school. It was one of the hardest things that you had to do, and being an adult wasn’t easy or all that it was chalked up to be. Living on Coruscant was a totally new experience. Everyone dressed so differently-- obsessing over the latest fashions, erasing the idea of modesty as well. Luckily for you, that’s when you met Kenth Madon. Upon arriving, your ship was having difficulties, and you needed a mechanic. Out of all the shops around you, you chose his almost as if it were fate. Due to frequenting his shop, Kenth got the courage to ask to see you outside of the permanently grungy, gas smelling establishment. It wasn’t your first relationship, although it has been quite a while. It was nice to have someone give you the type of attention Kenth did.

Since he grew up on Coruscant, your boyfriend claimed to know what real fashion was. Hinting at the fact yours was a little outdated. So,  he helped you restyle your wardrobe as you lacked any type of pizazz when it came to fitting in. At least according to him. During your outing, you still were drawn to rather lackluster choices of apparel, but at least it was slightly updated. Slipping on a white puff-sleeve shirt, you quickly tucked it into the black dress pants you were insistent on getting. The reality of putting on this outfit made your palms sweaty, your heart lurch up in your throat. with the realization of starting this new chapter in your life. Grabbing your white one-button jacket, you scanned your room one last time before placing a feathery kiss on Kenth’s stubbled cheek.  

—————————

“Next stop: Galactic Square. Please, refrain from getting up early and blocking the exits. Thank you.” the feminine voice echoed throughout the subway train.

You rubbed your hands up and down your thighs, staring out of the viewport of the train. The job itself was competitive and the position wasn’t guaranteed. Nineteen other candidates were presenting their brand new prototypes for QuanCom, as well. The business that created the HoloNet, the Holocomms, comlinks, and much more. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. This job could start you down a successful track, but you didn’t care. It was honestly only for the good-paying credits, since it was hard to find a job degree or not.

With a sudden stop shoving you against the seat, you quickly checked the time on your iPhone. 6:00 am. “Kriff!” you hissed to yourself. You were told work began at 8:00 am, so what in the hell were you going to do for an hour and a half? Being early helped ease your anxiety, though being this early only fueled it-- making it a lose-lose battle. Waiting for the other passengers to exit, you soon rose to your feet, swiftly leaping off the train. Examining the underground tunnels, your eyes shifted all over trying to locate the staircase leading upwards. It was crowded in the subway, yet it didn’t compare to the hustle and bustle that hurried by on the streets of Galactic City.

Humans, Rodians, Twi’leks, and species that you could swear you’ve never encountered before shouldered past you, as if you didn’t even exist. One long blink and an exasperated sigh later, you began to move your feet in the direction of QuanCom. The directions on your phone were confusing. The arrow rotating every once in a while was unable to read your location. Regardless, you continued hoping it was the correct way. The sudden smell of caf penetrated your nostrils, causing you to scrunch up your nose.

“If they sell caf, they probably have some deychin tea and maybe some food…” you trailed off hurriedly toward the small shop named “Caf Project ''.

Inside, it was cozy, brick-lined walls with a large sign hanging over the counter. Swallowing thickly, you stood back just far enough to show you were thinking of what you wanted, but really you were trying to stifle the anxiety welling back up as your mind kept going blank. A jingling sound interrupted your inner battles, and so did the voice of who was walking in.

“I don’t care. I told you to get this done yesterday. Not an hour before I arrived at the office. Is it really that hard to follow through? Do you not realize the utmost significance of this report? I swear I’m dealing with a bunch of imbeciles. Sith give me strength…'' Sucking in a breath, he glanced at you, brow raised. “Shut up for a second, Tannis.” He demanded before turning to you. “Are you in line?”

Your face went completely blank, just a second ago it sounded like he was about to murder whoever he was speaking to. But while speaking to you…his voice was smooth like silk, endearing actually. Swiftly shaking your head “no,” he stepped forward and flashed a warm grin at you, incisors slightly visible. Once again he continued yelling at someone, the barista not even batting an eye. His order was briskly made, though he didn’t even give any notion to what he had wanted. You couldn’t help but examine this stranger before you, attired in a charcoal grey suit that was paired with a very light grey dress shirt with two buttons undone. On his feet were freshly polished black Oxfords, his outfit so simple yet so suave. Once he handed the cashier some credits, you noticed a glimmer on his wrist, by the looks of it one kriffing expensive watch.

Adjusting the lanyard around your neck that holds your ID for QuanCom, the stranger with geometric tattoos all over his face turned to face you. You noticed a shiny stud piercing on the upper cartilage of his left ear. Maintaining some eye contact, you couldn’t help but feel a knot in your stomach. He was quite handsome, and his ivory horns…wow, you thought to yourself, cheeks running hot. “Get yourself together...you’re with someone,” You reminded yourself.

Lips parting, he studied you up and down.

“Good luck.” The words were quietly mumbled as he continued listening to what you assumed to be an employee, on the other line.

“Thank you,” you mouthed back, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips as you continue to fidget with the lanyard.

Maybe, he had heard of the big job offer at QuanCom? Advertisements were flaunted everywhere; it was hard to miss them. Shaking your head lightly, you step forward, showing that you’re ready to order.

“I’ll have a small deychin tea please and…uh- um..a croissant?” Everything on the menu food-wise wasn’t too appealing, but you needed something in your stomach to satisfy the beast. “Uh..how much, sir?” you inquired, pulling some credits from your spotless white jacket.

Shaking his head, the cashier's lips opened to a wide grin, “No need, miss, the man before you covered your order. You’re all set!”

There was that wave of nausea again. Why would he do that? Who even was he? Was it just his generosity for the day? Or did he think you couldn’t afford much based on your attire? Sighing, you frantically think about what you’ll be expecting for this job, continuing on your path toward the QuanCom headquarters. Getting closer to your destination, you glance over your phone, once more checking the time. 7:50 am. Finally, what felt like forever was finally here, and you were so eager to start on a positive foot.

Entering the monstrous building, people were hustling all around you-- confused, lost, and eager to get their days going, as well. You had to remind yourself that you were here as competition and not as a friend for anyone. Though right now, you could really use a friend and some directions as this place was large and filled to the brim. Inspecting the environment, you noticed a few flimsies posted. Maker’s sake, it made things easier by telling you where to go. Padding toward the nearest elevator, you crammed yourself in amongst the other bodies seemingly all going to the same exact floor. Not being able to help it, you held your breath midway until the doors opened on floor 18. Exiting, you followed the tall, skinny woman down the hall to meeting room 1804. To your amazement, it was already quite full, so you took a seat nearest to the door, pulling out some flimsy and a stylus so that you’re ready to jot down any information. The room was white-walled with very little decor besides a large glass table in the center. This is where the fun begins, the long drawn out rules and regulations.

“Alright! Now that we’ve gone over the workplace protocol and the prototype expectations, I will pair you up into four groups of five.” Her voice was raspy, though flat enough to make your eyelids heavy. Everyone around you was also struggling to fight the sleep that tried overpowering them. Names being called brought you back to attention every now and then, but you couldn’t stop thinking about him. “I’m sure Kenth sees more attractive women daily anyway…” you try to convince yourself.

“(Y/N), Fox, Steela, Hardcase, and…Finn. You five will make up group three.” The grouping continued slowly, but the names rang in your mind over and over. “Alright, now that groups are established, get to know one another and start some planning. Each member in your group has a very different degree path; this will help you all utilize one another's skills to create the best results for QuanCom. You have three weeks until you pitch your prototypes to Dooku, the COO.. Remember, 5 pm concludes your workday, so get to it.”

Sitting around your new coworkers, you fumbled around with your stylus, afraid to make the first move for introductions. It seems that you weren’t the only one being fidgety;  the gentleman named Hardcase was bouncing his leg vigorously. If you were correct, he and Fox were clones. After the bill was granted clones rights and citizenship, they ended up all over the system. So many felt that cloning was unethical, especially for the fact they were treated similarly to droids. Though it was nice to see the two making something of themselves.

“Guess I’ll start! The name’s Hardcase. Yes I’m a clone, and--yes--I’m perfectly capable of thinking for myself. I’m great with my hands and can assemble anything together. For a short while, I was working as a mechanical engineer for the GAR.” The clone oozed with excitement and enthusiasm, which was quite entertaining. Clad in a pink-hued dress shirt and a blue suit, which matched his facial tattoos. On his feet were freshly polished loafers still tapping the ground.

“Well, I’m Fox. My skills are geared toward CAD and any type of 3D rendering. Once I devote myself to something, I see it through. You can trust me on this project; I assure you that,” he barely showed any type of emotions compared to his counterpart. His attire was dark-- suit, shoes, everything. It said a lot about him and which made you anxious.

“Well, I’m Steela! Researching is my speciality. Problem-solving is also a breeze. I’ll be able to find the answers in order to help us advance to a whole other level! I enjoy leading projects like this, since I know I can keep us on track one hundred percent!” The excitement radiating from her was encouraging. She seemed like a strong woman ready to lead this team to success. She wore brown high waisted dress pants with a matching blazer, and white blouse. On her feet were suede, caramel heel booties.

“I’ll go next…” the young Twi’lek’s voice was soft and elegant, soothing to everyone in the group. Just as she was about to speak the double-doors swung open.

“Asajj, we have a problem,” her voice hushed but full of urgency as she glanced around the room. “Tannis was fired. We need to fill her position. Now!”

“Gods, I knew this was going to happen. I told her she wasn’t ready for this position. Now he’s going to take it out on me,” Asajj let out a long sigh, arms folding across her body. The woman that just emerged looked similar to her, though her face was more relaxed.

“(Y/N), can you come over here for a second please?”

Everyone in the room glanced up at you before continuing their tasks.. Rising from your chair, you crossed the room sliding past everyone with ease. Asajj acted like she was presenting the finest delicacy in the galaxy; arms held out at you.

“I think she’ll do. A tad on the quiet side, but I’m sure Mr. Crimson can work with it,” Her response was more of a question, as both women had their eyes upon you.

“It’s not like we have much of a choice. You cannot run this and take on two secretary positions. You’re going to need the help,” The woman’s pale grey eyes burned into you.  

“Fine. Take her to Mr. Crimson. You better hope he approves,” Asajj warned, giving you one last glance.

Quickly grabbing your belongings, the conversation you just had replays in your mind.

“Tannis,”

Why did that name sound so familiar? Who’s Mr. Crimson and why did you have to go see him.  Your mind whirled around, anxiety eating away as you set foot in the elevator. It felt like a full rotation cycle before reaching floor twenty. Being led out you walked down a hallway that was decorated lavishly. The flooring was a beautiful dark marble. Each step you took echoed off the walls. Nearing the end of the hall, both of you walked through another set of tall glass double doors. Entering the spacious room, you can’t help but notice the viewport walls. Also catching your attention were two long black desks. They were set across from one another stacked with datapads and pieces of flimsy. Towards the middle was a closed black door that had a frosted glass panel. Without a doubt this room was breathtaking and even though it lacked decor compared to the hallway, the view of Galactic City made up for it. Light knuckles hit against the panel three times, waiting for a response.

“What is it now?” The aggressive tone was enough to send a chill down your spine.

Slowly opening the door to peek her head in. A few words were exchanged before she fully opened the door, motioning for you to follow right behind. Inside was a long glass desk, the legs were black; matching some of the furnishings or complimenting them. In front were two rounded leather chairs, the area rug underneath a bright white. Paintings and picture frames hung on the right side of the room, though you were too afraid to really gawk at them as a gruff voice began erupting again. There he sat, his black leather chair facing the viewports behind his desk seeming to be amidst another phone call.  Something about his voice was all too familiar but the fear bubbling inside you made it difficult to pinpoint. Soon enough he swung his chair around slamming the phone down, right hand pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What was so important that you had to interrupt yet another phone call, Leys. If it’s not about numbers, you know, the job I pay you to do? Then leave. I’ll fire you too. I’ve had it with everyone’s complacent behavior. Any fool could be my financial officer, so if you as so step out of line again, you’re done,” The snarl erupting from this man was horrifying, bringing you back to the Caf shop.

It was him! The same eerie tone used then too, and yet he was able to turn it off so quickly when addressing you. Your hands began to clam up, eyes not even daring to meet his.

“Yes sir, I understand I’m very sorry. I just wanted to bring you Tannis’ replacement,” voice quivering, Leys bowed her head and hurriedly left Mr. Crimson’s office leaving you behind, alone and defenseless.

A satisfied chuckle was released from Mr. Crimson as he watched his employee scatter from his office. Brow raised in your direction, his stare intense, a sneer presenting itself. “Well. Take a seat.”

His hand motioned to the smaller round chairs, eyes never leaving you. Pushing his seat back just a smidge, a polished shoe crosses over his left thigh and his hands fold against his stomach. Releasing the breath you were holding in, you padded over to the seat in front of his desk sitting as straight as humanly possible.

“It seems I’m in need of another secretary. But it’s not an easy job-- I need someone reliable, someone organized, and to understand the urgency of when I say to do something, they do it,” Towards the end of the sentence, his voice dropped a little lower, eyes narrowing. “It is a permanent job that is until mistakes are made. Pays reasonably well especially for dealing with...someone like me. Seems Asajj and Leys picked you and they’re typically alright when it comes to the judgment of character.”

Something about the way he spoke to you made your heart skip a beat. Even the way he stared at you had your arms lined with goosebumps. Trying to compile a coherent sentence was no easy feat with his eyes burning into you.

 “I-I, um..” fumbling over your words caused your cheeks to run hot. “Well...first off I wanted to thank you for this morning. You really didn’t have to pay for me...but I greatly appreciate it. As for my work, I am quite organized and pay attention to directions given, but I don’t exactly have the experience in being a secretary, which would probably be important…” trailing off, you broke eye contact with him to glance at a red light blinking on his phone.

He barely acknowledged your thanks, just giving a small nod. A deep hearty laugh left his lips, “Any fool could be a secretary, but you don’t seem like a fool. No, just the way you speak and hold yourself exudes intelligence. Normally a secretary is chosen from within the company, as an outsider could be one that would leak vital information about QuanCom to its competitors. Someone that has worked their way up the ranks, whom I could trust. However, due to obvious circumstances here we are. If you so choose to take this job you will have limited access to certain databases as I need you to earn that trust. Understood?” The sneer plastered itself once more upon his face, incisors visible this time.

“Yes sir, I understand. I’ll make sure I do this right Mr. Crimson!” a little bit of enthusiasm worked its way to you, eyes lighting up like Coruscant itself.

“Please, call me Maul.” he pleaded, followed by a half-smirk.

Rising to his feet, he outstretched a hand that you mirrored. His callused hand engulfing yours in a gentle embrace. Just this morning you were going in ready to compete against nineteen other candidates, and here you are sealing a deal with the CEO of QuanCom to be his second secretary. Breaking the handshake, he opens up his desk drawer pulling out a datapad, handing it to you.

“That will be yours. You’ll need it for all the paperwork and emails. You’re free to take it home, just don’t lose it. Asajj will send you some emails tonight that will need to be completed before you come in tomorrow morning at 6 sharp. Once you do that you’ll be set up in our system and able to begin your duties. You’re dismissed for the day, but you will be paid for a full day. Just a small token of gratitude.”

Taking the datapad in your hands, you gave a curt nod, ensuring you understood the importance that was just given to you. Getting yourself together along with your things, you exchanged a few words expressing how grateful you are for this new position. Heading toward the door, you outstretch a hand to grab the handle. Just as you’re about to open the black door, his voice cuts the silence.

“Oh, one last thing, don’t mention our little encounter this morning to anyone. Some may think... I’m beginning to play favorites.” his voice honeyed paired with a smirk and eyes ogling you, trying to take in one last visual before you leave.

---------

taglist: @maulfrk​ @honestlystop​ @pinkiemme​ @idiotonastar​ @nawpitynopenope @maulieber​ @rishi-moon​ 

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

mad woman

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x OC!Reader; Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s relationship throughout the years.

Word count: 1803

Warnings: swearing, angst

Previous part

Series Masterlist

Age: 17

Year: 2011

Location: Brooklyn, NY

Elizabeth had the whole weekend to prepare for what was to come when she went to school on Monday.

Word had quickly spread about what happened at her place with Bucky.

She decided that Saturday morning to block Inez's number, along with a few other students. Everyone had shifted over the villain role from Bucky to Betty, Elizabeth. She even set all her social media accounts to private, blocking those who were being nasty towards her.

To be honest she wasn't even sure if Bucky had even gotten as much crap over the last month that she was getting in just the last 48 hours.

How is she the woman he cheated on suddenly the villain?

Was she harsh to him? Maybe.

Did he deserve it? In her eyes, yes. Her reaction was a normal reaction for any person that would be in that position.

She had given him everything the last three years.

She was gone for one summer and he betrayed it all within those ten weeks. He couldn't even tell her why when she first found out a month ago. Now here he was showing up uninvited, crashing a student council meeting, not caring how it all made her look.

She could no longer hold it in. She just snapped.

Now here she was the bad guy, because Bucky decided to make his infidelity public. Because he didn't give her the respect of having this discussion in private.

She had never felt more disrespected. She had never felt more betrayed in her life.

She had never felt more alone.

Sure she had other friends besides Bucky and Steve, but once word got around about her outburst, no one really cared about her feelings but more about the gossip.

Forget student council, the secretary, Kelsea Cash texted her Sunday night saying:

"Student council doesn't need any bad press. So it's best if you just sit out until student elections. Also, if you think about running for student body president this year, it's probably best if you don't."

That text crushed Elizabeth. She had given student council that last three years of her life. The meeting that they had on Friday was partly discussing about her running for student body President, with Steve running as her Vice President. She had done an amazing job all throughout high school her classmates had praised her and wanted to help her run again. Looks like all those years were a waste. Just like her relationship with Bucky.

She'd be lying if she said she didn't cry herself to sleep that night. The anxiety and sadness seeping in. She knew she couldn't fake sick because her parents would ask what was wrong. She had already lied about why she and Bucky broke up, she couldn't lie to them about this.

She took her time getting ready that Monday morning. She didn't want to get to school until the last possible moment.

When she pulled into her assigned parking spot in the student parking lot, she waited until she heard the school bell ring.

Elizabeth made the dreaded walk up the steps that led into the hallways of her awaiting doom.

As soon as she stepped foot through the doors all eyes were on her. As if everyone was awaiting her arrival.

She slowly made her way to her homeroom, looking down at her feet to avoid eye contact. She could hear the whispers, she's pretty sure everyone wanted her to hear them.

"What a bitch."

"Bucky really dodged a bullet."

"Never knew she could be so mean."

"It's always the quiet ones."

"Bucky deserves better."

Elizabeth fought back the tears, her main focus was just to get to her homeroom. She was going to have to take today one class at a time.

As soon as she got into class she found her seat and let out a sigh of relief once she was seated. That was until a shadow loomed over her desk.

She looked up to find Alex Taylor standing over her desk, with a sly smile on his face.

"Hey Elizabeth," he gently greeted her.

His soft tone took her by surprise, but Elizabeth knew better than to let her guard down.

"Hi Alex," she said trying to ignore by pulling out her notebook.

"Listen, I'm sorry about what happened. Barnes shouldn't have done that. It wasn't cool," he sat down in the desk next her, which was not his assigned seat.

"Uh thanks."

"Barnes never did deserve you," Alex's voice got quieter, he leaned over his breath now on her face.

"Bet I can make you forget all about that jerk," he whispered in her ear, placing his hand on her upper thigh.

Elizabeth abruptly shot out of her seat.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she shrieked, alarming the whole class along with the teacher, who started making her way towards them.

"Come on Liz, let me take you out."

"How many times do I have to tell you no?"

"Do you not know what that means? I don't want to go out with you Alex. Not now, not ever," Elizabeth continued, she caught a glimpse of the class recording her outburst.

"What is going on here? Mr. Taylor. Ms. Sanchez," Ms. Marquez asked looking between the two.

"I was just trying to be a friend to Betty here," Elizabeth snapped her head towards Alex at the mention of her nickname, "When she totally freaked out on me."

Elizabeth was speechless.

"Everyone back to your original assigned seats. And put your phones away," Ms. Marquez instructed, walking back to her desk.

"No wonder Barnes cheated on you," Alex whispered to Elizabeth's face.

What happened next not only took the whole class by surprise, but Elizabeth herself as well.

The sound of the slap was heard throughout the classroom.

"Bitch," Alex sneered, clutching his face.

The sudden realization sunk in.

"Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. I-I don't know what came over me."

"Elizabeth, principal's office, now."

Elizabeth gathered her things and made her way to the principal's office. She was completely stunned. She couldn't believe she just did that.

When she arrived the secretary informed her that Principal Alvarez was waiting for her inside.

"Ms. Sanchez, please have a seat," Principal Alvarez pointed to the seat on the other side of her desk.

Elizabeth closed the door behind her and took the seat opposite the female adult.

"When Ms. Marquez called to tell me why you would be making your way up here, I was completely stunned. Never would I have thought you would be in here for a physical altercation."

Elizabeth glanced down at her hands on her lap. She was completely embarrassed by her actions and behavior.

"Now normally I would call a student's parents or suspend them."

"What?" Elizabeth's head snapped up.

"But this is a very difference circumstance. You have never gotten into any trouble. You've been a star student, and unfortunately even though the staff and I are adults, we aren't privy to school gossip," Principal Alvarez informed her.

"Oh," Elizabeth's eyes widen.

She knew. Everyone knew.

"Being a teenager isn't easy. Especially in today's modern technology world. I can't even imagine half of the things you kids have to go through. The mean, hurtful comments they follow you all home, it's not fair."

Elizabeth glanced back down at her hands, to try and hide the tears threatening to fall.

"I'm sorry you're going through all of this, and having to deal with classmates' inputs. You're first heartbreak is never easy. It's hard enough having to deal with it privately, but having to deal with it publicly while in high school. It's tough."

Elizabeth could no longer hold in her sobs. She covered her face with her hands to try and contain the sound. She could hear Principal Alvarez get up from her chair. She sat on the chair next to Elizabeth, and gently rubbed her back.

"It's not fair," Elizabeth sobs, "I didn't do anything wrong, yet everyone hates me."

"How is all of this my fault? How am I the bad guy? All I ever did was love James. I gave him everything. Everything. And now I have nothing."

"I'm sure you have some friends you can talk to through this," Principal Alvarez says.

"No. Not really. People just want the gossip. No one. Not one single person has asked how I've been," she looks up to meet Principal Alvarez's eyes, "My best friends were Steve, Bucky, and Peggy. Peggy is no longer here. And of course Steve is siding with Bucky. They've known each other their entire lives. And the way Steve looked at me on Friday night after what I told Bucky, forget it. He's never going to talk to me ever again."

"I'm sure he'll come around eventually."

"No, he won't. He's very loyal to Bucky. He isn't going to turn his back on someone who's practically his brother."

"Have you thought about telling your parents?"

"No. I don't want them to know. It's embarrassing enough that you know," Elizabeth sniffles, wiping away the last of her tears, "Thank-you though. You didn't have to let me of so easily."

"Like I've said before, you're a star student. Plus you're going through enough, I'm not about to put more on your plate," she patted Elizabeth's knee before getting up and going back to her side of the desk.

"Now do you think you'll be able to handle the rest of the day? I will let you head home early," Principal Alvarez asked, standing behind her desk.

"No," Elizabeth shakes her head, "I have to stay. I have to at least get through today. I can't let them know they're getting to me."

"Smart girl," Alvarez winked at her, smiling, "My door is always open if you need to come by again today."

"Thank-you, I'll keep that in mind," Elizabeth nodded, grabbing her backpack and heading for the door, "Bye."

"Bye."

As Elizabeth walked out of the office, she glanced at the clock over the secretary's desk, everyone would already be in first period. She grabbed a slip from the secretary excusing her tardiness.

She walked through the silent halls, taking her time, the only sounds coming from her boots clacking. Elizabeth knew that to get through today she is going to have to show everyone that they're not getting to her.

In order to get through today she's going to have to give them what they've been calling her.

She's going to have to be a cold bitch.

This is the new Elizabeth.

Naïve, sweet, innocent Elizabeth is gone.

This Elizabeth will no longer show people what they've done to her. She will no longer be open with herself.

This Elizabeth is going to be just like all of them.

Selfish.

The only person that truly cares about her is herself.

This is the Elizabeth they've created.

[why-not-a-tickle-blog]

Lee!virgil ler!roman? That’s my everything lol

(Just a quick note that it’s easier for me if you give me some kind of setting or prompt in addition to the sides. I’m totally game for doing it without, but it’ll be easier and quicker with.)

“You what?” Roman asked.

Virgil blushed harder. “...iwantyoutotickleme…”

“I’m sorry, I still couldn’t hear you,” Roman said, teasing now.

Virgil frowned, looking downright pouty. “I already said it twice, jerk.”

“Said what?” Roman teased. “I really have no idea what you want. If you tell me I can see about helping you.”

Virgil glowered at him for a long several seconds. “Fine. I want you to tickle me.”

“Oh, of course!” Roman said, smiling wide. “How?”

“How?”

Roman nodded. “Yes, how?

Virgil gestured vaguely at his upper half. “Like… tickling.”

Roman nodded. “But how? Here? With your hoodie still on?”

Virgil flushed. “No…”

“Then how? I’m sure you have ideas of how you’d like this to go.”

Virgil just kept getting more and more flustered, and Roman hid his smirk so that Virgil wouldn’t get frustrated and leave.

Virgil was back to mumbling. “In my room? And I’ll take the hoodie off.”

“Lead the way,” Roman said, following Virgil into his room. He noticed immediately the cuffs attached at the top of the bed. “Oh, look. See, I knew you had this planned out.”

Virgil buried his face in his hands, his face already so dark red it couldn’t get much darker.

Roman helped him out just a little by scooping him up and laying him on the bed.

Virgil managed to keep his face hidden the whole time he was taking off his hoodie and revealing that he was, in fact, wearing a crop top underneath. Roman’s smirk almost couldn’t be hidden anymore.

He finally laid back, picking his arms up to where the cuffs were. He hadn’t had any time to get over his embarrassment when Roman asked, “What would you like me to do now?”

Virgil’s arms shot back down to cover his face, and a long whining groan came out. “Why are you so mean!?”

“Mean? I’m just asking you what you want me to do.”

Virgil groaned again. “I want you to tie my arms up but not my feet, and sit on my legs so I can’t move. There! Happy?!”

“Well, you don’t need to be so angry about it,” Roman said, moving to do as Virgil had asked. “You only need to ask, and I’ll do it.”

He sat back on Virgil’s thighs. “There. What now?”

Virgil made a choked sound, and if his hands could have gone down to cover his face, they would have. “What do you mean what now? Tickle me!”

“Oh, of course, but where? And let’s try being nice now. Roman, please tickle my bellybutton! Or Roman, please tickle that special spot on my ribs! Or Roman, please dig into my hips and make me squeal!”

Virgil was nearly squealing already, shaking his head back and forth. His voice came out in a long whine, with only occasional words able to be picked out, like ‘awful’ ‘mean’ ‘evil’ ‘ass’ ‘jerk’ ‘hate you’.

Roman just smirked, waiting patiently.

Finally Virgil was done, and pouted at Roman, or maybe glared. It could have been either. “My belly.”

Roman held his hands up over his belly, wiggling his fingers mischievously, and lowering them slowly. But just before they touched down, he pulled them back.

“No, I think I really have to insist on politeness. Why don’t you ask again nicely?”

Virgil howled something incoherent, curses spilling out of his mouth. Roman began to wonder if he might have pushed it too far, but Virgil finally calmed slightly, though his eyes still sparked when they met Roman’s, and his voice came out clipped.

“I want you to tickle me all over my torso, and especially my bellybutton, and I want to scream with laughter and not remember my own name by the end, and I want you to use that dumb brain of yours and stop asking idiotic questions! Please.”

Roman smiled, wide and slow. “It would be my pleasure.”

[vintagesimstress]

VI c. UV_1

(Previous: Changing the texture displayed in Blender)

As mentioned before, the uv_1 map plays a very different role than uv_0: it tells the game where certain parts of your mesh are located, so that the whole thing could move with sliders. It seems many people struggle with it a lot – and to be honest, I have no idea why, as in my experience uv_1 has always been totally unproblematic. Hopefully you'll share my feelings on this!

Let's click once again the little triangle on the right ('Data') and choose 'uv_1' this time.

As you can see, the texture on the model turned very weird – and it'll stay this way, as that map is not meant for texturing. You can as well change to solid shading, if you find that craziness spooky or annoying.

If you switch to edit mode, you'll see that the map looks just as crazy:

UV_1 uses a completely different type of template. It differs very slightly depending on age and gender of your sim; the adult female one looks like this:

You can download all the versions from S4S forum, in HERE (I highly suggest you make some kind of 'Basics' folder for all those things which you'll keep reusing!)

Once you have downloaded it, click 'Image' and then 'Open image'. It works exactly the same as in case of uv_0. Now it should look like this:

You can see that your vertices are twice wider than the template. I'm not sure why the template has been made in this way instead of getting adjusted to the TS4 requirements, but that's what we have to work with. Select all the vertices (a), press s, then x, then type 0.5 and press enter. Do not move your mouse! Your uv map should be twice narrower now:

We still have to move it, so that it'd align with the template. Select all again, this time press g, x and type 512. That's exactly the number of pixels you need to move your mesh to the right. Now it should finally look correct.

Just like in case of uv_0, the top part is completely done, so the only thing we have to do is unwrap the skirt. This time the only valid methods for doing it are no. 1 and 2 (see: VI a), namely moving the lines manually or using cylinder projection. As at this point making manual adjustments would be too cumbersome, we're going to use option no. 2.

Select the lowest line of vertices to select your whole skirt, go to front view this time (num 1) and choose cylinder projection.

Move the newly unwrapped faces up or down (g, y), to the black area, so that you could properly see them.

You can see that my dress got unwrapped a bit unevenly – there are small 'steps' on the sides. I highlighted all the faces which should form the left edge. Now I'll move the highlighted parts on the right to the left, and the non-highlighted parts on the left to the right, and then it should all look and work fine.

Tip: you can also move them precisely into the right place by typing g, x, 1024 (to move to the right) or g, x, -1024 (to move to the left)!

The weird part at the bottom is the closing circle; you can select the central vertex (which is here doubled on the sides), weld it and move it down, to more or less align it with the lowest row. Or simply wait with closing your dress until you're done with uv_1 ;). The bigger problem is that step my dress still has at the top. I'll select all the vertices below it and just very gently move them along the x axis to the left. Now, that looks better:

And now, just as we did before, we have to connect the skirt with the top. It's a bit trickier than in case of uv_0, because you can't do it in one piece: your mesh has to be split along the back and both sides. Take a look at the top mesh. Let's start from the left: click the rightmost face and then, in 3D view, the faces right underneath it. This will tell you where your skirt should be split.

I'll deselect the face of the top, select the whole part of the skirt left from the selection and then move it to the left (g, x), separating it from the central part.

That weird line at the bottom is the closing circle again – I'll delete it and redo it afterwards, it'll really be easier.

Repeat the same steps for the part on the right.

The edges of those three parts should be, if possible, straight. Mine aren't. To be able to adjust them, I'll select the edges and temporarily split them (ctrl + e, in 3D view). Select a vertex or two above as well, or the uppermost one won't get split!

(If you're having problems with selecting edges, it might be smart to select the whole skirt (not the top!) and change it back from tris to quads (alt + j). Then you can easily select edges by clicking them while holding alt).

Split also the top row of vertices, to separate the skirt from the top. Just for a second.

Now select a whole edge, press w and choose 'Align X'

Repeat for the remaining edges. If you want to and feel that it's needed, you can also straighten other lines in your mesh.

Now it's finally the time to put it in the right place. Select the skirt and move it up (g, y).

One can immediately see that it's way too tall. Scale it along the y axis until it looks more reasonable. It should start at the lowest line of the top and end a bit above the feet. Nothing big will happen if it covers them, but it has to fit inside the picture!

And now just scale and move each of the 3 parts individually, along the x axis, to match them with the top.

The only thing left to do is to weld the vertices. It's unlucky that we separated the skirt from the top; now we have to select all, remove doubles and then once again split the side edges to be able to weld everything properly. Just like with uv_0: select a vertex, press w and choose 'weld' from the drop-down menu. Repeat for aaaaaall the vertices connecting the skirt with the top.

Sometimes the vertices can be quite far away from each other. Is it still safe to weld them? I'd say risk it. If you see some weird stuff happening in game when changing your sim's body type, you'll know you have to fine tune it: straighten some lines, make them more regular etc. However, chances are quite high that it won't matter at all.

Select all and remove doubles. Yes, again (I keep doing it all the time, that's probably why I love the edge split modifier so much).

And now a very important, final step that I usually forget about: you have to revert the moving and scaling changes you made at the very beginning. Select all and press g, x, -512 to move it back into position, and then s, x, 2, to make it twice wider again. Otherwise TS4 will get quite perplexed with your mesh (and so will you, seeing everything being weirdly deformed and moving with all the wrong sliders)!

As you see, it's not very difficult and once you get a grip of it, you can do it in no time. To be honest, 90% of the time I don't even do the whole scaling and moving thing; I just open the picture, to know where the feet are, and adjust the rest to the top. UV_1 is really not that bad, at least as long as you don't have to deal with the upper body half.

Here are just a couple of general, closing remarks which I'd like to share:

If you move any vertices of the top, immediately move them on the uv_1 map as well. I try to avoid it at all costs, but sometimes I can't resist making just one teeny tiny adjustment... Arms are usually not a problem, neck can get problematic, and breast area is an absolute nightmare. I already mentioned it once, but honestly, better dissolve vertices and cut new edges with the knife tool than move anything in there.

If you're frankenmeshing, remember to weld any vertices you merged in 3D view! If your mesh is getting split in game when you move any sliders, that probably means you didn't connect those parts on the uv_1 map (or that it's vertex paint... but that's another story).

Of course, if you added any other parts to your mesh than just a skirt – or if you frankenmeshed a thing, but changed its location, e.g. took a hair ribbon and put it on the skirt – you have to put it in the right place as well! In case of frankenmeshing you just have to change its location on the map; if you made it yourself, you'll have to experiment with different types of unwrapping first (pssst, projecting from view usually isn't a bad idea).

There are also certain cases - rarely, but still - when it might be a better idea not to properly unwrap a part of the mesh, but weld it all together to a little dot and put it in the right place on the uv_1. The first example which comes to my mind are 3D buttons. I always weld each button to a single dot, so that it’d be changing its size evenly, without deformations. However, this comes at a prize of an increased risk of clipping.

And finally: if you're having big problems with uv_1 and my method doesn't work for you – or if you made your mesh completely from scratch, so you don't have an unwrapped top – you can always make a data transfer, copying uv_1 data from another mesh. I won't elaborate on this one, because Teanmoon already explained it all in her amazing tutorial, which you can find HERE. Scroll down a bit until you see 'UV-1 Transfers'. I think I used it myself once or twice in the past and I was quite pleased with the results :).

***

Once again, I'm sorry both for how long you had to wait for this tutorial and for its final length. I swear I intended it to be a simple, concise explanation ^^. I hope that at least it's all clear and will help you avoid any problems with uvs. Please tell me if you have any questions or if something doesn't work for you – really, I mean it! Half of my inspiration for this tutorial comes from me watching other simmers struggle with making their first pieces of CC, as it helps me notice what hasn't been explained yet.

From now on we'll be moving into the dangerous territory of clones, cuts, regions, bones and weights, and I need some time to figure out how to divide this whole topic into sensible parts. It's not even that hard, but very interconnected, and that makes it difficult to tackle – as covering it all in one part is absolutely out of the question. Please have some patience with me and stay tuned!

[monstersandmaw]

Taurgust - Male centaur x reader (nsfw) *Starfall Springs*

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

To celebrate Taurgust, the celebration of all things '-taur', I present Jaime, the hafflinger centaur and horse trainer. I know a couple of my Patreon supporters have been excited about this for a while, so I hope it lives up to expectations!

It's going up on Tumblr today (3rd August) so that I don't get too behind with the Taurgust prompts, after having only gone up on Patreon yesterday. I know that's a shorter 'early release' period than I usually like to give my patrons, but I think they’ve forgiven me, given that I’ve got my dragon shifter series starting this month (Ep. 1 is already up), and the giveaway drabbles are also being posted, so there’s lots of unique and early release content on Patreon!

Reader is gender neutral, and divorced (married young and foolishly…). They had a terrible accident while out on the horse one day, and have been searching for a trainer to help Peregrine get over whatever it is that’s still tormenting him…

It's 7984 words and quite story-heavy, but there is some nsfw at the end.

---

“I’m at my wit’s end, please…” you begged down the phone. “I’ve tried trainers from all over my part of the country. No one will look at him. I don’t know what else to do. They’re all telling me to put him down but I won’t give up on him.”

The trainer on the other end of the line took a deep, steadying breath, as though preparing to turn you down. In fact, you knew he was going to turn you down.

And so you interrupted him before he could deliver the news, just like all the others had. “Please, this horse has been through a lot. He means everything to me and… I can’t…” Choked with tears, you ground to a halt. “Please…”

“You really intend to load him up in a trailer and drive six hundred miles with him to Starfall? You think that’s what’s best for him?”

“Don’t you dare -!” you started hotly, but managed to contain yourself a second later. “I’m sorry. I just… I refuse to believe he’s unreachable.”

“I’m sorry. I just don’t think it’s practical. There must be someone in your area who -”

“Weren’t you listening?!” you cried. “No one wants to look at him. They say he’s too broken after the accident. The vet’s fixed him up physically, but there’s so much that he’s got going on in his head…”

“I'm sorry.”

Anger flared, hot and bitter, and you simply slammed the phone down. “Fuck!” you spat, kicking at the skirting boards in the hallway and leaving a big scuff mark on them.

The next morning you awoke with an oddly calm sense of resolve and rose well before dawn, backed the trailer up to the entrance of the barn, propped the doors of the barn against the sides of the trailer so that there was nowhere for Peregrine to go, and went to his stall. As usual, when he saw you, he reared and plunged, eyes rolling, his storm-grey coat already shivering.

“Easy,” you said, but you knew it would make no difference.

He was wild now. Ever since the accident which had nearly killed you and done a lot of damage to him nearly six months ago now, he had refused to be around you without going berserk. It was heartbreaking to see the once calm animal that you’d bought with the settlement from your divorce - as something to enjoy during your free time - become this crazed beast, lashing out, snorting, whinnying, screaming…

Undoing the bolt and standing well out of the way, you watched him charge up the barn at a fast trot, blowing and snorting. He shot into the trailer and you rammed the door shut behind him. He immediately kicked the closed ramp with both hind hooves, sending you reeling back, but mercifully not before you’d slammed the bolts across.

With tears in your eyes, you set off.

The total journey to Starfall Springs would probably take you about nine or ten hours, given the traffic. You stopped three times, once to take a long nap in the back of your four by four, your dog Pip curled up along your legs. You'd be coated in his black and white fur by the time he shifted, but it was worth it for the comfort and closeness. You didn’t get a whole lot of that from anywhere else these days.

Every time you stopped, Peregrine would start up his banging and stamping in the back, but eventually he would stop and fall quiet. Each time he did, the tears came afresh. “I’m sorry,” you murmured to him as you pressed your hand against the side of the trailer before getting back into the car and setting off for the last leg of the journey.

The lights of Starfall Springs came into view long after sunset, and with your eyes prickling and your back and legs stiff after driving for so long, you pulled off the main road, down a track which your Sat Nav told you would lead to Broadleaze Farm. If he turned you away now, you were just going to leave Peregrine here. You couldn’t inflict another journey like that on the poor animal.

As you jolted along the track, you heard a barking from the farmyard up ahead, and a light flicked on. It was nearing midnight, and you knew this was a crazy-stupid idea, but some part of you was whispering that it might just work.

The clop of hooves on concrete greeted you as you killed the engine at the farm gate and climbed out. Looking around, squinting through the pitch darkness, you caught sight of what you thought was a loose horse walking towards you, but as he stepped closer to the beam of your car’s headlights, you realised he was a centaur.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice a curiously wary tenor. You recognised it instantly from the phone.

“Jaime?” you asked.

“Yeah, that’s me. Do I know you?”

“Uh… I’m the one who phoned up about the problem horse…”

His hooves fell silent on the yard and he stopped. “Fuck me, you actually did it,” he breathed. “You actually dragged your horse all the way out here.”

“Please don’t turn us away…” you practically whimpered.

He let out a great sigh and shook his head. In the half light, you thought his equine half looked remarkably like that of a hafflinger, a gingery blond with pale fetlocks and a thick bushy tail. His human torso was clad in a rusty red t-shirt, and as he raised one arm to scratch the back of his blond hair that was cropped close above his pointed ears and floppy across the top, you saw that there was a big hole in the armpit. Clearly he hadn’t been expecting visitors at this hour.

“Get back in,” he said, gesturing at your car, and your heart sank like a stone.

“No, please…”

“Get back in,” he said firmly and gently, “And I’ll open the gate for you.”

“What?” you couldn't be sure that you hadn’t just hallucinated after such a long time on the road.

“You can park over there by the barn. I’m assuming he hasn’t been out of the trailer for the entire journey…”

“That’s right.”

He shook his head again. “Pull up against that paddock gate. He can be turned out in there for the night. Has he eaten?”

“I put a couple of big haynets in this morning.”

Jaime nodded. “No hard feed.”

You shook your head. “And… not much water either. I just stuck a bucket in through the jockey door when we stopped.”

A slight scowl crossed his face. “At least you gave him that much. Come on.”

And with that, he unhitched the gate and opened it inwards while you drove through and parked up where he’d told you to, near a large, red barn with white window frames and eaves. Backing the trailer up in the dark was a challenge, but he guided you expertly.

He stood beside the open gate of the paddock so that Peregrine would only be able to bolt out of the side door into the field once the ramp had been opened.

The smell when you opened the upper hatch door was… pungent. Undoing the bolts one at a time, you then stood to one side and lowered the ramp.

Peregrine stood there, sixteen hands tall, soaked in sweat, chest heaving, eyes rolling. He took one look at the open space, stamped, tossed his head, and shot out down the ramp, hooves clanging and clattering as he thundered into the paddock.

Exhaustion washed over you, and with it came a fresh wave of gut-twisting guilt, and you simply burst into tears. Cover your mouth with your shaking hand, you watched him tearing around the paddock, head in the air, tail streaming behind him.

“He’s a beautiful animal,” Jaime commented from the gate. “Come on. It’s late. You can stay in the guest cottage. I usually use it for self-catering holiday lets but I had to do some renovations this summer. The bathroom is out of action, so you’ll have to shower at the farm house, but the plumbing is still ok.”

“Thank you,” you said, getting a handle on your emotions again. “And Jaime…?”

“Yes?”

“I’m… I’m so sorry.”

His sapphire blue eyes met yours in the light from the automatic lamp on the front of the barn, and he came about as close to telling you off as he’d got so far when he said, “I can’t say I’ll be able to do anything for him, but since you dragged the poor thing all the way out here, the least I can do is look after him.

At that point, Pip woke up in the back of the car and launched himself at the window in a flurry of barking.

Jaime shied slightly in surprise and then laughed. “You got a whole ark full of animals in there, or is that it?”

Sheepishly, you said, “I couldn’t just leave him home alone. I didn’t know how long I’d be gone.”

“I understand. He’s welcome too, so long as he doesn't eat my chickens…”

“I’ll keep him on a lead,” you promised. “Thank you so much.”

Jaime stepped to one side and said, “I’ll meet you over by that building there,” and he pointed to a single-storey cottage that might have been an old apple barn on the far side of the farmyard. “You can park up outside.”

You closed up the revolting trailer and after you’d driven slowly away, Jaime closed the gate on Peregrine, who was still trotting around and snorting, and then crossed the yard to join you.

The steady, syncopated rhythm of his hooves on the concrete was somehow soothing - especially since the only hooves you’d heard had been the chaotic clattering of Peregrine’s as he either paced his stall or thundered out into the paddock.

“The house is open,” Jaime said. “I’ll go and grab the key from the farmhouse. You need anything?”

“I wouldn’t mind a quick shower. I had planned to go and find a hotel in Starfall Springs itself while I’m here… I didn’t bring a towel.”

He grinned, causing a little dimple to appear in his cheek like a pulled thread. “I can get you one. You are one determined human, I’ll give you that. You must really care for that horse.”

“He… He means a lot to me. Represents a lot…”

“I get it,” he said. “I’ll take a look at him in the morning. Like I said, no promises. You get yourself settled and come over when you’re ready for your shower.”

You nodded. “Thank you again.”

The centaur just shook his head again in surprised disbelief that you were actually nuts enough to have pulled this all off, and then walked away.

The farmhouse door was open when you showed up a quarter of an hour later, and he was in the kitchen filling up a water bottle. Jaime showed you to the bathroom and left you to it, saying he was going to bed, and just to pull the door closed behind you when you left. You couldn’t believe how trusting he was, but maybe it was a small-town-thing.

His downstairs bathroom was actually more of a giant wet room, and as you showered you realised that the whole ground floor had been adapted and refurbished to suit a centaur. You wondered if he lived here alone. There was only one toothbrush in a glass by the sink, so you assumed that he did.

Later, curled up on the comfortable double bed in his holiday cottage, with Pip snuggled up beside you, you suddenly felt hopeful for the first time since before the accident. He hadn’t turned you away; you’d made it this far; and tomorrow was a new day.

Sleep, unusually for you, claimed you pretty quickly, and you tumbled back into blissfully deep, blank sleep until well after sunrise the next day.

When you did eventually stir, you realised with a jolt that it was almost ten o’clock. You never slept that late. You seemed only to have woken up because Pip was whining and asking to go out.

Clipping his lead on, you opened the back door of the cottage which backed onto a small patch of grass, bordered with lavender and other flowers, and you let him snuffle around and do his business while you stood there in your bare feet and pyjamas, blearily rubbing your eyes.

The sounds of the country were hardly unfamiliar to you but there was a fresh, odd kind of strangeness to this place. The dew had long since burnt off the grass, but it still smelled lush and green. The land around the farm rolled away in gentle, undulating grassy pastures until it reached a patch of oak woodland in the distance, and the whicker and whinny of horses reached your ears every now and again. You wondered idly how many he had here.

When Pip was done, you apologised to him for feeding him so late, and then fed yourself with a snack bar in your bag, and dressed. Taking your collie with you, you stepped outside onto the main farmyard and looked over to Peregrine’s paddock, only to find it empty.

Had he escaped? Jumped the fence and bolted?

Half blinded by panic, you rushed over to the field, but at the sound of a clicking tongue and the thud of hooves in a sandy surface, you followed the line of the barn around to the sunnier, south side of the building, and found a wooden round pen with high sides. There, cantering around the edge with his head held defiantly high, was Peregrine. Jaime stood at the centre, a long rope in his hands, attempting to do join-up with him.

The horse was having none of it.

He ignored Jaime’s every attempt to connect, his ears pressed back against his head instead of having one locked onto Jaime, and he just cantered round and round. Seeing that it was going nowhere, Jaime sighed and dropped his energy, turning away from your horse, at which point the gelding stopped cantering around and just stood there snorting at him.

You watched, silent and fearful, as Jaime left the ring, closing the gate on Peregrine and hanging up the rope on a hook on the fence. Then he turned to you.

“I’m sorry I slept so late,” you blurted. “I… I don’t normally… I didn’t set an alarm.”

He just smiled. “You’ve been through a lot. I’m glad you slept.”

You turned your gaze back to Peregine who was now looking out at the pastures beyond the round pen. “So… what do you think?”

“I think he’s been through a lot too,” he said quietly. “He doesn't want to know. He’s not interested in forming any kind of connection.”

“Is he a lost cause? Should I just have shot him the way everyone else thinks I should?” you asked bitterly.

Jaime tilted his head slightly as he regarded you steadily. “I’m not making any promises, but I’ll work with him. See what I can do.”

“Thank you,” you breathed and turned to look at him.

He was so handsome, it almost took your breath away. He had a dark dusting of freckles across his cheeks and over the bridge of his straight nose, and those eyes were the colour of a summer sky.

“Can I help in any way?” you asked.

Jaime chuckled. “You can help me with the other horses if you like.”

Your days settled into a rhythm after that. You had driven into Starfall Springs to stock up on groceries, and you lived in the cottage with Pip, getting up early to walk him down to the copse at the far end of the fields before retuning to bring in the horses from the overnight pastures with Jaime. He was an absolute delight to watch, there was no denying that. He wasn’t particularly tall, and his equine half was stocky and muscular, but when he cantered out into the field to round up the horses, he moved with such confidence, it was hard not to admire him.

The horses loved him and followed him without question. He introduced you to Leaf, a dappled two year old with one blue eye and one brown, and she took an instant shine to you and to your interesting pockets. She nosed around in them for a while until you pulled out an apple and flicked a questioning look at Jaime who just laughed and nodded. He watched you bite off a big chunk for her and hold out your palm, knowing that to offer an entire apple to a relatively young horse would probably result in her just choking on it. However, she quickly learned to bite off bits of the apple for herself while you held it, and she became your confidence booster while you were there. Progress with Peregrine was… nonexistent.

While Jaime worked with Peregrine, you worked with Leaf; getting her used to being handled by a human in preparation for being backed.

By contrast with Leaf, your own horse showed no signs of wanting anything to do with anyone, Jaime included, and it was slowly breaking your heart all over again. You’d let yourself hope that this might be the answer and it was becoming clear that it might well not be the answer at all.

One afternoon, about two weeks after you’d pulled up unannounced at his farm gate, Jaime was leading Peregrine from the round pen back to his paddock, when Pip, who had been sitting quietly beside you for the entirety of the schooling session, suddenly leapt to his feet, snapping at a passing butterfly.

The sudden movement startled Peregrine, and he shied, head jerking upwards, and he yanked himself free of Jaime’s grip and galloped off through the farmyard and out towards the freedom of the acres and acres of pasture beyond.

“Shit,” Jaime hissed as the gelding thundered down the farm track in a cloud of dust and out into the pastures to the south of the road, lead-rope dangling from his head collar and flailing this way and that. You prayed he wouldn’t step on it as he tore along the path.

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, grabbing hold of Pip far too late and making him sit back down, but Jaime shook his head.

“He was looking for any excuse today,” he said. “I could feel it. It’s not your fault.” He shot a look at the chagrined collie and added, “Nor his.”

“What now?”

Jaime sighed. “I’ll go out and get him.”

“Should I come too?”

He looked at you and nodded. “Though maybe leave Pip at the cottage…”

You nodded in return and led Pip away. The collie seemed to sense he’d done something monumentally unhelpful, and you tried to reassure him as you crossed the yard to the cottage. You settled him in his dog bed and gave him a rawhide bone to chew so that it didn't feel like a punishment, and then tramped down the dirt track in the direction that Peregrine had bolted.

Eventually you came to the sunny, wide hayfield that smelled of chamomile and wild flowers too, and found Jaime standing by the fence, resting his weight on his palms on the top rail, just watching Peregrine.

Coming to rest beside him, you stopped and looked from Jaime to the horse and back again. “Everything ok?” you whispered.

He just nodded without looking at you. He hadn’t taken his eyes of Peregrine.

“What’s going on?”

Nothing.

You sighed.

“Should I go?”

Silence.

“I’ll go.”

“No,” Jaime murmured gently, voice barely audible. “Stay. Look at him.”

You did.

He had his head down and was eating the lush grass. Your first thought was that he’d get colic if he had too much, but since Jaime himself was susceptible to colic, he must have known as much and wasn’t worried. Forcing yourself to relax and really look, you saw the way that Peregrine’s flank twitched idly as a fly landed on it, his tail swished casually, and he stepped eagerly forward to the next patch of clover. “He… He looks chilled out for once…”

Jaime smiled. “Yeah. I think… part of him has forgotten just how to be a horse, you know? He’s been so uptight since… well… whatever happened.” He fell silent for a while and the two of you continued to watch Peregrine out in the meadow. “You know,” Jaime said. “It might help me if you told me a bit about that…”

“No.”

The centaur didn’t look down at you or move, but he did tense up slightly. Then he sighed, but still he said nothing and passed no judgement.

“I’m sorry,” you said a second later. “I… I don’t like talking about it.”

“Neither does Peregrine,” he muttered.

“You can talk to horses?”

Jaime shot you a wry grin. “Horse whisperer, remember?”

“Yeah, but…” you glanced at his equine half, and he whickered a soft laugh.

“No,” he said. “I can’t speak to horses in the same way that you can’t speak to monkeys either.”

Your cheeks flushed at that. You should have known better than to insult him by even insinuating as much. “Sorry.”

“But he does have plenty to say,” Jaime amended. “He just doesn’t know how to say any of it.”

The two of you stayed there watching him for a long time. When perhaps half an hour had elapsed, you looked up at the sky, blue and endless above you, and said, “It was a day like today. Perfect weather, not a cloud in the sky.”

Jaime, who had been halfway through adjusting his weight on his hocks, went very still.

“We’d been out for a hack on the Downs; our usual long route. Lots of nice canter tracks. He’d been really good - he was always good - and we were just walking along the lane back to the yard.”

You bit back the memory of what happened next, even as it flashed before your eyes, which were stinging with unshed tears.

“Some eighteen year old who’d just passed his driving test came flying around the corner in his fucking Subaru, and he lost control at the corner. He swerved and skidded. I had my reins all long and wasn’t really paying attention. Peregrine went up and then the car slammed into him. We were thrown back into a dry drainage ditch. Peregrine landed on top of me. I fractured my skull and my spine, broke my shoulder and my leg and three ribs. ’Grin got off a bit lighter, with a lot of cuts and bruises, a fractured skull as well, and some other fractures to his legs.”

You still recalled the weight of him on top of you and the taste of blood in your mouth. The crushing, winded struggle for breath. And the pain. The doctors were surprised that you recalled all of it, given that many trauma victims have no memory of the events surrounding their injuries. Every horrifying second had stayed with you ever since.

Jaime still hadn’t moved. He was watching Peregrine, but every fibre of his being was concentrated on you and your story.

“I was in hospital for a long time. The vet wanted to put ’Grin down, but I kept saying no. I’d got some spare cash from the divorce settlement, and I said I’d use it all up on him if necessary. It’s mostly all gone now. Insurance paid for a lot of it, but… they don’t cover the call out fees and consultation fees for horse whisperers.” It struck you then, and not for the first time, that Jaime hadn’t asked you for a penny; not for the rent of the cottage nor for his time with Peregrine.

Eventually, he turned his clear eyes on you and said, “You know what? I think… I get it now. I think I get what’s troubling him so much.”

“What?”

“You said he reared up when the car shot round the bend?”

“Yeah?”

Jaime’s lips twitched into a sad smile. “We don’t usually rear up when we’re frightened. If we’re frightened, we equines just run. It’s instinct. We rear up when we think we have a chance… when we want to look intimidating… when we’ve got something worth defending. I think he was trying to protect you.”

Your chest heaved and tears welled up, hot and blinding. “Oh god,” you choked. “Grin…”

“I think…” Jaime went on in his gentle way, “I think that he’s still trying to protect you.”

“What? How?”

“If you don’t get on him, if you don’t go near him, you can’t get hurt.”

It was too much.

Your knees went out from under you as you sank into the grass and broke down. It was the first time since coming out of hospital that you’d really gone to pieces like this.

“Easy,” Jaime murmured, and to your surprise, he started to fold his legs to lie down beside you. Once he was on the same level as you, you just tipped forwards and hugged him. He let you cry against his chest, your back heaving, wracked with desperate, gulping sobs.

He stroked your back until you had nothing left to give and simply slumped, listless, against his body. Drained, wrung out, without even a shred of energy left for embarrassment, you pushed yourself shakily off his red tartan shirt and sniffed, smearing tears across your face with the back of your hand.

Jaime held you steady with a hand on your shoulder for a little while longer and then stood, levering himself upright and then he held out his hand to you. “Come on. I’ve got an idea.”

You cocked your head curiously, and allowed him to pull you upright.

“Can you mount from the ground?” he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

Your voice was hoarse, your throat raw as you croaked, “What?”

He was still holding your hand, even though you were definitely steady on your feet now.

“You want me to try and get on Peregrine, despite the fact that he won’t let me anywhere near him, and I’m not wearing a back protector or a hat?”

Jaime laughed. “No. I’m not that reckless.” He turned his body parallel to the fence and added, “You can use the fence if you like.”

“Holy shit,” you blurted. “You want me to ride you?”

His ears darkened to a dusky red at that, but he laughed quietly and said, “I have an idea. Do you trust me?”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I just… I didn’t think centaurs, you know, let just anyone hop on…”

“We don’t,” he said, rolling his eyes. “But I think this is going to work.”

“Ok…” you hedged.

It was easy enough to clamber up onto the fence a couple of rungs high and then settle yourself down on his sunny, golden back. His whole body tensed up as you landed gently, but as you adjusted yourself - and realised with a disconcerting jolt that you had nowhere to put your hands, no reins, no saddle - he relaxed a bit and glanced back over his shoulder. “Comfy?”

“Uh… yeah?” you said.

“Ready?”

“Absolutely not. What are you planning?”

“I’m just going to go and get him.”

And so he did.

It’d been a while since you’d ridden bareback, and it wasn’t exactly the most comfortable way to sit. Your thighs and calves gripped him so tightly that he wheezed softly and said, “Relax. I’m not going to let you slide off. Have you done much dressage by any chance…?”

“My mum ran a dressage stables,” you whispered as the two of you neared Peregrine, who was still eating nonchalantly, though his ears told you he knew you were coming over. “I grew up riding horses too big and powerful for me.”

“I can tell,” he said dryly. “Ok. Keep quiet now.”

He didn't try to sneak up on Peregrine, but he was soft and gentle in his approach. The big horse jerked his head up and snorted, backing away.

“Easy…” Jaime said and then, to your surprise, he turned broadside to the gelding so that he could see you clearly, riding on his back.

Peregrine whickered softly and then let out an ear-piercing neigh, nostrils flared wide.

“I’m just going to stand here for a bit,” Jaime told you. “Keep still and relaxed. Let him get used to it.”

The seconds ticked by, becoming a minute, then two, then three. After nearly five minutes, Peregrine shivered and seemed to go soft all over. His muscles stopped twitching and he lowered his head, licking and chewing in equine submission. His ears went soft too. He took a tentative step towards the pair of you.

The meadow grasses hissed and whispered around his hocks as he came cautiously over, delicate flowers bobbing their heads at his passage. Stopping perhaps a metre from you, he extended his neck and snuffed at your thigh, taking another cautious step closer.

“Hey buddy,” you murmured. “Hey. Come on; it’s ok.”

Your hand had been resting on your thigh and his velvety muzzle brushed over your knuckles, his warm breath fanning over your skin. He huffed gently and you turned your palm over, daring to touch him and, to your utter astonishment, he let you.

You and Jaime stayed like that for a long time until finally Jaime moved his hind quarters away from Peregrine and turned to face him himself. The gelding then quietly allowed the centaur to pick up the dangling lead rope from the ground and, without a word, Jaime led the horse back to the yard with you still aboard.

“You want me to get down now?” you whispered but Jaime shook his head.

“You’re good.”

Riding a centaur was one of those things you’d always dreamed about as a child, but never once imagined you’d ever get the chance to do. It was notoriously a very big deal for them, and in the name of helping your traumatised horse, this quiet trainer had allowed you, a relative stranger, to clamber up onto his back in what had to be a degrading act for him. It moved you more deeply than you cared to admit.

Jaime turned Peregrine loose in his paddock with an affectionate pat on his quarters, but this time instead of bolting off, Peregrine simply walked away, head low, tail swishing idly back and forth. With a smile and a gentle click, Jaime closed the gate and looked over his shoulder at you. “You want a hand down?”

“Sure,” you smiled, though really you didn’t need any help to dismount. He reached back and steadied you as you swung down off him, and as you landed lightly on the concrete beside him, you squeezed his rough hand. It was a hand that spoke of manual labour and the clever capability of the horse trainer.

“I’ve got someone coming over for a lesson in about half an hour,” he said. “You think you can get Ellie ready for me?”

You nodded. “Listen, Jaime… thank you. Not just for… you know… letting me ride you like that, but for everything you’re doing for me and Peregrine. And… And for back there in the field too…”

He closed his eyes and smiled softly, bowing his head. “You’ve been through a lot. I think I understand you both a bit better now. I think I know how to go forward from here.”

And with that, he left you to go and prepare the sand school for his lesson, and you headed out to the pastures at the back to catch the little bay mare for him. She was tricky to handle, but once caught, she usually behaved herself, and she had the most beautiful paces. You longed to ride her, but you were probably a bit too big for her.

Watching him teach the little human girl how to ride was a delight, and you stayed near the school, just watching them from the edge of the arena, and offered to take Ellie off her at the end of the lesson. The kid was beaming as she handed the reins over to you.

“Nice work,” you said and she grinned up at you.

“Jaime said he’s gonna teach me to do a leg yield next week, and that we might do some trotting poles too!”

“Whoa, that’s awesome!” you laughed and she suddenly darted off as a car approached and the person you took for her father stepped out.

You let their chatter slide into the background as you loosened Ellie’s girth before running her stirrups up and slipping the reins over head, unaware that Jaime’s eyes were on you, taking note of the way you moved around the horse; gently, calmly, efficiently. Horses had always made sense to you, which was why the trouble with Peregrine had been so heartbreaking. You’d backed youngsters, you’d coached lazy horses into fitness, and you’d even managed to get one of your mother’s best mares into a grand prix level dressage competition, but when it came to your own horse, perhaps you were just too close to see the problem in full.

You were brushing Ellie down in her stall, waiting until you could give her a small feed, when Jaime’s hooves sounded on the concrete of the barn and he came over and leaned on the stable door. “Got a proposition for you,” he said without preamble.

“Oh?” you asked, ducking under Ellie’s neck and running your hands over her coat between brush strokes. Jaime’s eyes drifted down to watch the movements of your hands and he didn’t respond for a moment.

He cleared his throat and said, “Uh… Yeah. I’d… I’d like you to help me back Leaf. If you’re up for it.”

“I’d love to!” you exclaimed softly. “Are you sure?”

“Well, I can only do so much before I need someone to sit on her,” he said. “Consider it your payment?”

“I have offered to pay you actual money, you know?” you said flatly.

“I know. You don’t have to do it, but… think about it.”

And with that, he was gone.

Work continued with Peregrine, and this time you were present. Jaime worked on lungeing and long-lining him, and when he wasn’t repairing fences or shuttling hay in his large hand-cart from the feed barn to the horses, you and he were backing Leaf together. She was an excellent student, and had been well prepared by Jaime. She trusted him implicitly, and now you, so she only twitched her back as she got used to the thick, cotton numnah that would sit beneath the saddle.

“Good girl!” you laughed, nuzzling her nose and running your hands up her cheeks as she relaxed again. “You’re so good…”

You shot Jaime a glance and he said, “Ready?”

You nodded. You had your hard riding hat and back protector on now, and though you weren’t expecting her to go berserk, it was always a danger. Jaime raised his foreleg and you grinned in thanks as you used it as a leg-up to lie across her shoulders so that she could get used to having weight on her back. She didn’t even shift. When it came to the saddle, however, she whipped round and nipped you right in the ribs with her sharp, pincer-like teeth as you did the girth up, and the string of curses that left your lips made Jaime blush and chuckle.

“Are you alright?” he asked, trying not to laugh outright.

“Fuck, that hurt!” you growled softly through gritted teeth and rubbed subtly at the blossoming mark on your torso, not wanting to spook Leaf. “Oh man, that’s going to leave one hell of a bruise.”

In the end, you backed her without any major issues, and you simply walked around the arena a couple of times with Jaime leading her, and then you dismounted and untacked her. Best to end on a positive note.

Once she’d been brushed down and fed, Jaime took her out to the paddock while you cleaned and stowed away her tack. You were just finishing up as Jaime came back into the barn, and he was noticeably hobbling on one back hoof.

“You ok?” you asked, hanging up her grooming box and coming over to him. “What happened?”

“Stone in my shoe I think,” he grumbled. “I’ll go sort it out. I won’t be long.”

“You… uh… you want me to get it out?” you asked.

His chest heaved just once, and then he laughed. “Sure. Thanks.”

“You mind if I use Leaf’s hoof pick?”

“Not at all.”

Instinctively, as you stood beside his hind leg, you placed your hands on his golden quarters and ran them the length of his leg, right down to the soft, creamy fluff around his feathery fetlocks. The centaur shuddered and a soft groan escaped him. You weren't sure if you should pretend that you hadn’t heard it. You dug the sharp flint out from between the frog and the iron shoe, and he grunted again in relief.

“Perfect, thanks. Listen,” he said, setting his hoof down and turning to look at you. “I… I was wondering if maybe you fancied eating with me tonight? It’ll be vegetarian, but… I’m not a bad cook? And you’ve spent every night in that little cottage alone since you got here…”

Your heart skipped a beat at that, but you smiled up at him and nodded. “I’d love to.”

His cheeks warmed beneath the spattering of freckles on his tanned skin. “Cool, well, I’m gonna go wash all this dust off my coat, but just come on over whenever you’re done. And… thanks for your help with Leaf today. She really likes you.”

“She’s had a good teacher all her life,” you said as the two of you headed out of the barn and parted ways in the farmyard. “I think she was looking forward to being backed today.”

You’d have been lying if you’d said you hadn’t spent a little longer on getting ready than usual before going over to the farmhouse later that evening, and when you pushed open the wide door and stepped inside, the most wonderful smell of cooking wafted out to greet you. Jaime was in the kitchen, and when you joined him he grinned at you from above a wok, a cotton apron protecting his human torso from splashes.

“Hi,” he said. “Help yourself to whatever in the fridge - there’s beer, and some wine too. Should be cold enough… I only got it out an hour or so ago…”

“You don’t normally drink?” you asked, checking out the selection and picking a bottle.

He shrugged. “Beer, yes; wine, not so much.”

“Well, I appreciate the thought. Though really it should be me buying you things to say thank you…”

He just grinned at you and shook his head.

Jaime was indeed a good cook, and after you’d shared stir fry, with Jaime sitting on a wide, flat cushion on the living room floor and you on the sofa, he asked if you wanted to walk Pip down to the lake. You told him that you’d already given him his evening run before coming over, and he nodded.

Mellow and just nicely full, you lay back on the sofa and your thoughts drifted to lying against his solid body as you’d broken down in the pasture after Peregrine had bolted, finally confronting what had happened all those months ago. Jaime’s mind seemed to have kept pace with yours, because he said, “About Peregrine… I wanted to thank you for trusting me.”

“Oh? I just told you what happened to us… you know…”

“No,” he said, shaking his head so that his floppy hair fell briefly into his eyes. “I meant… when you, er, rode me.”

“Oh!” you exclaimed, flushing. “Surely I should be the one thanking you…? Isn’t it, like, a huge deal for centaurs?”

He nodded and swallowed. “Yeah, it is, but I guess you’re alright.”

“But you hardly know me! I’m just some batshit insane human who showed up at your gate a month ago with a mad horse and a mutt, and you just let me stay!”

His rich chuckle filled your ears for a moment and you watched as the dimples formed in his cheeks again. They made you want to kiss them. “I like you,” he said. “I didn’t think I would after your phone call -  I thought you were pushy and selfish - but when you turned up, you turned out to be alright.”

“Just alright?”

Those sapphire blue eyes narrowed playfully and his voice deepened as he murmured, “No. Much more than alright. The horses trust you, and if the animals trust you, then you must be a good person.”

That moment hung between you before you set your glass down on the table at the end of the sofa that was clearly meant for non-equine guests, and stood. “Mind if I join you down there? It looks so comfy…”

Jaime shuffled slightly on the large, mattress-like cushion, stowing his legs out of the way against his body. When you plonked yourself down and immediately lay back against him, resting the back of your head on his human torso, he gave a shaky exhale and then brought his hands affectionately to your shoulders.

He whispered your name and you felt his hands tighten slightly on your arms.

“Mmm?”

“I’ve… I’ve never… um… with a human…”

You sat up and pushed gently so that he rolled over onto his side. He could easily have resisted, but he didn’t.

The momentum rocked him slightly onto his back, his forelegs bent, his human torso flat on his back. He was still smiling, eyes locked on your face. His belly was pale as parchment, and you could see his cock was already starting to unsheathe itself, the tip weeping onto his creamy coat. Again, he rasped your name.

In a swift motion, you straddled him and he gasped. “Is this ok?” you asked and he nodded. Scraping your fingertips the wrong way through his coat, you leaned your body forwards like a stretching cat as you moved your hands upwards towards his equine chest, and he shivered conspicuously. “You like that?”

Jaime nodded. “Feels so good… You know, when… when I saw…” he swallowed thickly, having difficulty speaking as you continued to caress him. “When I saw the way you were brushing Ellie down, all I could think of was your hands on my coat…”

“Like this?”

“Mm mph, like that,” he whimpered, his hind legs kicking slightly as his cock twitched eagerly. “Gods…”

His cock, hard and weeping and now fully exposed, was huge. There was no way that you could take much of him now, and none at all without some serious prep-work, so instead you decided on something else; you stripped naked while he lay on his back, unable to reach his own cock to ease the tension. It continued to twitch and drool onto his belly and he groaned at the sight of you.

“You’re gorgeous,” he moaned dazedly.

“So are you,” you replied, letting your gaze sweep slowly over his whole body. As you sank back down astride him, you let his slick, leaking cock slide against you, and he cried out, hind hooves thrashing suddenly.

“Gods, that’s so good,” he rasped, more to himself than to you as his eyes rolled and he arched his human spine up off the floor.

As you ground yourself steadily against his length, repeating the gesture, enjoying the slide of him beneath you, you felt him starting to shake beneath you. “Jaime?”

“I’m getting close,” he laughed nervously. “You look so good like that,” he added.

“Well, you did say you didn’t mind me riding you…”

“I can’t believe you went there,” he half gasped as you gave a long, slow, deliberate roll of your hips and then raised yourself up off him so that you could grab his cock with both your hands. You worked him closer and closer with your hands, occasionally flicking your tongue over his head just to hear him yell and pant in pleasure and watch his legs kick.

You tightened your grip and he curled his abs, almost sitting up towards you as his front legs pawed the air.

“I’m… I’m going to… I… uhnnff…” he grunted, and a heartbeat later, his cock pulsed and he spilled all over his belly, crying out as he came, his whole body going rigid and tense, muscles straining beautifully, powerfully.

His body convulsed, his chest heaving, and he came so hard you thought he might just pass out on you as you stroked him through the last throes of his orgasm. Finally he flopped back to lie flat on his back, his legs limp and his twitching cock softening slightly.

Still very much aroused yourself, you released him to lie down beside him and moved your hands down your own body to take care of yourself. He cracked an eye open and said, “Wait for me… to… recover, and I’ll… I’d like to… I mean… if you want…”

You grinned. “I’m not sure I can wait much longer, Jaime,” you said as you began to pleasure yourself. Your eyes fluttered and your lips parted, and Jaime watched you closely with his bleary eyes.

Rolling over onto his side, careful not to crush you, he clamped one surprisingly heavy foreleg over your own legs to stop you moving, and he brought his hand down to replace yours. “Please…” he said, whispering in your ear and nosing gently into your hair before kissing you softly on the side of your head. “Please let me make you come…”

And as he returned the favour, the weight of his strong foreleg pinning you down, you felt heat crawl up your body and down to your toes, the pleasure of his rough hand and the unfamiliar rhythm he set combining into an intoxicating mix that had you barrelling towards your own peak in no time. You could still feel what his cock had been like beneath you, and as you thought about that, he gave one final motion and you came hard, mind blank and body alight under his touch.

He kissed you and murmured as you came down from your orgasm, “Stay…? At least for tonight? Stay with me?”

You couldn’t really manage words, but as he showed no signs of moving his hand from where it still was, you smiled and nodded.  Your answer was met with another kiss and accompanied by a teasing touch that made you jolt and groan.

“Yes, I’ll stay,” you gasped.

“Good. I want to do that to you again.”

—

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[ver-writes-things]

Girls Like Girls (Like Boys Do)

A/N: Short version: Brain broke.  Only submitted one piece.  Taking advantage of this middle week to catch up.  Happy SWPOCWeek!

Trace watches the Togrutan girl working on her speeder in the corner of the mech bay.

Ahsoka is smart.  And strong.  She beat up Pintu’s lackeys easily.  It’s not a feat a whole lot of people accomplish on 1313, and even if they do, most of them are afraid of Pintu coming after them.

And Ahsoka just… isn’t.  She’s brave.

And really pretty.

Trace blushes when Ahsoka turns around to look at her.

“I just realized something,” Ahsoka says, and her voice is… kinda sheepish, Trace thinks, which is totally unexpected considering everything else that’s happened so far today.

“What’s that?” Trace asks.

Ahsoka blushes and hides her face.

“Ahsoka, come on.”  Trace slides down from her spot under the engine of her ship--the Silver Angel, she thinks she’ll call it--and steps closer to Ahsoka.  “What is it?”

“I don’t have a place to stay.”

And Trace--Trace gets that.  “Where did you stay before you came here?”

Ahsoka still doesn’t meet her eyes when she says, “Here.  There.  You know.”

“The streets aren’t too friendly for a girl and her speeder,” Trace sympathizes.  “You can stay with us.  It’s no trouble.”

Ahsoka finally looks up.  “I don’t think Rafa would like that very much.”

“I’ll just have you pay for that, too.”  Trace grins.  “We’re friends now, right?  You save my life, I give you a place to stay.  That’s friendship.”

Ahsoka smiles, and Trace could swear she sees her lekku twitch.  “Sure.  I really appreciate it, Trace.”

:::

Trace is smitten.  Their home is meager, one bedroom, a living room-kitchen hybrid, a refresher.  They spend most of their money on the mech bay and the laundromat.  And yet Ahsoka, who lived on the upper levels for most of her life, says nothing.  She collapses against the couch, which was brand new when their parents got it, but, well… like Trace and Rafa, it’s been through a lot.

“You can sleep in my bed,” Trace says without even thinking.  “Uh, if you want,” she adds with a blush.  “It’s more comfortable than the couch.”

“Anything is more comfortable than concrete ground,” Ahsoka mumbles, and then her mouth keeps moving with silent thoughts and Trace realizes she’s staring at Ahsoka’s lips.

She looks up at Ahsoka’s eyes instead, which are already closed.  “At least take a shower.  It’s relaxing.”

Ahsoka opens her eyes again.  “I probably don’t smell all that great, either,” she teases, but stands up anyway, leaving her bag in the corner of the couch.

As Trace watches her leave, she realizes she knows this feeling, except she’s never gotten it for a girl before, and it scares her a little.  Not because it’s bad, but because she’s seventeen, almost an adult, and she thought she had figured herself out by now.

(Rafa will come home tonight and listen as Trace explains all this, and cover up her laugh with a cough because she’s twenty-one and she still hasn’t figured anything out, and it’s just like her sister to think she knows everything.  But, she supposes, it’s probably a family trait.)

So yeah.  Trace is definitely smitten.  Absolutely done for.  And on top of that--bi?  She thinks?

:::

Ahsoka doesn’t eat breakfast with them the next day.  Togrutans are carnivorous and Trace and Rafa have had too many incidents involving undercooked meat to keep a lot of it around the apartment, so there’s not much she can have.

Actually, she leaves early enough that she writes them a note, so by the time Trace actually sees her again, she’s already in the mech bay working on that unfortunate speeder of hers.

Coveralls are a good look on Ahsoka, Trace thinks, and her face warms at the thought.

Ahsoka turns around.  “Oh, hey, Trace,” she says.  She takes her goggles off and gives Trace a smile.

“How long have you been here?” Trace asks.

Ahsoka glances at the chronometer in the corner.  “An hour and a half?” she estimates.  “Figured the sooner I got to work, the sooner I’d be out of you and Rafa’s hair.”

“I don’t want you out of my hair,” Trace blurts before she can stop herself.

Ahsoka actually smirks.  The jerk.  But her voice is sad when she says, “Not yet.”

It makes something under Trace’s skin itch, the way she says it, the way her shoulders obviously slump when she turns around and assumes Trace has done the same.

:::

They work in silence for a few hours, until Ahsoka’s stomach grumbles too loud for her to ignore and she catches Trace’s attention.

“Lunch date?” Ahsoka offers.

“A date?” Trace very nearly squeaks in response.

It’s Ahsoka’s turn to blush again.  They seem to be trading off.  “Well, I mean, I used to go on dates with my brothers all the time.  Not dates but dates, you know?”

Trace nods, and her voice comes down to an ordinary pitch.  “Rafa and I do the same thing.  It’s tradition, since our parents--since we’re alone now.”

“Let’s do it,” Ahsoka said.  “If I pay, does that count toward my debt to you?”

Trace laughs.  “What if I pay because I like you?”

“I like you too.”

(Find over on Ao3)