#hence why there’s more of him. i had to draw him over and over before it felt right | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bluemerakis · 18 days ago

Text

┌── ˚*❀*̥˚ ─── ˚*̥❀*˚ ──┐

✐ᝰ bluemerakis

┗━━• ❃ ° •° ❀ °• ° ❃ •━━┛

❝ feelin’ fuckin’ fantastic ❞

⤷ Part 1/3

⤷ Read part 2 here

⤷ Word count: 6.8k

[18+ ONLY!!]

═════════════════

PAIRING:

S3!Soldier Boy x fem!reader

WARNINGS:

Cussing, angst, masturbation m receiving, let me know if I’ve forgotten any!

SYNOPSIS:

After the love of your life—Soldier Boy—is kidnapped by the Russians, you strike a deal to work under them as a Scientist so that you could keep tabs on your boyfriend.

Over the years, you managed to make modifications to Compound V as per the Russians’ orders, so that Soldier Boy could receive the treatments and be remade in a far greater image than any other living Supe—a biological weapon.

But it all comes to and end when you make contact with a strange group and conspire to get yourself and Soldier Boy out of dodge.

═════════════════

“He’s ready for you.”

Those very words crept past the nape of your neck to caress your ear as a warm breath, yet you felt the way it instilled chills down the expanse of your spine, whisking your attention away from one of the lab assistants you’d been checking stock with. You placed an apologetic hand on her shoulder, braving a thin-lipped smile as you excused yourself and handed her the clipboard of listed supplies.

“Take care of that for me, will you?” You murmured kindly, to which the assistant relieved you of the board with a meek of course, and you thanked her hastily before sending her on her way.

Turning to face the bearer of bad news, you were confronted by the guard you’d tasked with pulling Soldier Boy from his induced coma. Immediately, your attention snagged onto the faint trail of blood smudged above the curve of his upper-lip. It formed an incomplete line that told you he’d attempted to obliterate the evidence of his known temper with a hasty swipe of his thumb—but more so, it told you that Soldier Boy was in one of his fouler moods today.

The Supe was quite physically capable of inflicting more damage whenever he pleased, but his compulsive urge to do so only surfaced on his worser days—which seemed to be growing more frequent.

All courtesy of the godsent fucking side effects of induced sleep.

The technology was still so new despite being in use for these last couple of years, and hence you hadn’t been able to successfully map out any tangible links between behavioural alterations and manual arousal of the brain—you only knew that it happened. The how was as good a guess as anybody’s.

“Trouble?” you asked the guard pointedly, the hand at your side making a subconscious reach for your lab coat as you throttled the white material in anticipation.

You didn’t know why you still bothered to ask, really, when the answer to that singular question had always been the same. You couldn’t have Soldier Boy without the trouble. They were the sort of two-for-one special that you couldn’t have said no to—but at what cost?

The guard rolled his shoulders with a husk of embarrassment as he spoke, drawing your attention back to him. “You know the prick,” he grumbled, averting his gaze to acquaint every aspect of the hallway other than your own expectant stare. “He’s on some of the crazy shit today. . . jumped me and decided to lay one on me after we put him in the room—but don’t worry, I put him in his place.”

“Uh huh,” you murmured distractedly, your attention slipping past his figure to tune into the door that loomed like a menacing figure at the end of the facility’s pristine hallway.

The reinforced steel frame adorned with high-tech locks all along the perimeter could identify itself as Soldier Boy’s door—because who else could possibly warrant such caution within this secret facility?

Truthfully, you’d allowed the guard’s explanation to slip through your care entirely. You had bigger things on your mind—for one, what sort of greeting you could expect from Soldier Boy this time around. The induced sleep has been rough on his brain. It made him feral at times—made him blindly lash out like a rabid animal of prey. And he wasn’t notorious for restraint, either—god forbid or you’d have never had to expel the name Herogasm from your waking mind.

“If you’ll excuse me.” You brushed past the guard to put an end to the suspense you felt inevitably building at the idea of seeing Soldier Boy again—after all this time. Your fingertips seemed to tremble in solidarity.

“I’ll come with you,” the guard insisted, and the unpleasant screech of his heavy duty boots followed shortly after as he pivoted on his heels to follow.

“No, I’m going in alone,” you called over your shoulder without so much as a glance to spare.

“Well, be careful!” the guard called to the back of your rushing figure. “He’s wilder today—not using a single goddamn braincell!”

Seems to be the common trend around here, you thought, birthing a mental scoff. Men. The last thing you needed was to add another twig to the fire by bringing along the guard Soldier Boy had already popped one on. He’d gone easy on the guard, you knew him well enough to deduce that, but it also meant that the flimsy punch responsible for the bloodstain above that guard’s lip was merely a promise for a truer beating somewhere down the line. That time would not be now—not if you could help it.

You hurled a dismissive hand over your shoulder that told the guard not to worry—a feat to brush aside his concerns, but also to hopefully coerce away yours. If you wanted to feel braver, maybe a good place to start would be to act as though there was no reason to feel scared.

Would Soldier Boy hurt you?

You couldn’t help but lift a hand to ghost across your neck for a few seconds before lowering your hand back to your side.

The door that would give sure way to that nagging question seemed to grow with each passing second as you closed in on it, and when you came face to face with the worn, thick steel, the breath in your chest stilled. Your gaze lowered along the various locks, which had been left unlatched—not a bad finding, surely, if it meant he was tame enough to temporarily forsake the extra security. That thought gave permission to your lungs to breathe as per usual.

But when you really tried to listen, head slightly turning to tune in your hearing, you could make out a cluster of grunting and thudding from beyond the six inches of steel. It wasn’t a finding that eased away the dread your fingertips so insistently clung to—you’d hoped for an entirely different scenario.

Fuck, you cussed internally, taking your lower lip into a frustrated bite, before you decided to push through the anticipative haze by fastening your hand around the door’s handle.

You pushed the door open, your vision bombed by the blaring, overhead lights that beat down on the even whiter room. You’d always thought the room had been purposefully modelled to convey the impression of a void—it was no wonder the test subjects often went insane in here. The room swallowed up your senses for a moment, and you fluttered your eyes in an attempt to adjust to the blinding air before you came to focus on Soldier Boy’s figure in the centre of the stage.

He lay plastered along the length of a reinforced operating table, fist-drawn hands sentenced to his side by thick, steel-linked chains. There were a few sets to match, which secured his torso and legs to the table, intended to immobilise him as best as possible—but Soldier Boy seemed determined to test out the limitations of their purpose as he thrashed vigorously between the fortifying steel, guttural sounds filling the silence of the room.

He only laid the effort to rest when his head lifted from the table with a grunt, and his eyes fell onto your familiar figure. His sudden calmness seemed to ease off the four guards lining the table—their weapons long since drawn as a show of force, and a promise of death, should the subject make a successful escape.

Your airways thinned as you caught Soldier Boy’s stare, the rage that framed his eyes simmering into a semblance of relief as he drank in your presence.

He called your name. Your name.

Your lips parted as a slight breath of disbelief pierced its way through—forced from your lungs by the sudden jolt in your heart.

“Leave us,” you ordered, your attention lingering on the Supe for a few seconds longer before you broke the mental tether to whisk a hard stare across the idling guards. “Now.”

The guards all exchanged a look that seemed to communicate a shared feeling of doubt, but neither of them wore a pair big enough to outwardly criticise your command. So, hesitantly, they holstered their weapons in practiced sequence, then in complete silence, they streamed from the room in an orderly fashion.

The last one to slip past you lingered at your ear only to murmur, “we’ll be outside to intervene if anything goes wrong.”

Don’t bother, is what you wanted to say—you knew just the way to go about handling Soldier Boy. After all, you’d been doing this for years. But you also knew that this was standard protocol set in place to protect any and all employees—especially when said employee was as valuable as you.

So, instead, you turned your chin slightly to offer the guard an acknowledging nod, which allowed him to slink through the doorway and lug the heavy door closed behind him. The mechanism clicked into place, and it echoed brashly between the four walls of this inspired asylum.

You turned your attention back to Solider Boy, who still had his eyes patiently fixed on you. The hands at his sides had stilled completely, and his body had relaxed against the cold steel of the table, but there was still a tension bracketing his jaw that was yet to release, even at the sight of you.

“The hell was it this time, huh?” His sombre voice dampened the hollow air—you’d almost forgotten how profound the rumble in his throat was, and it tickled your senses in all the right ways. “Three, four months? A year?” He seethed, the muscles of his jaw faltering with great restraint.

“Six months,” you told him levelly, chin lifting slightly as you endured the brunt of the guilt that was evoked under his resentful glare.

You didn’t hold any joy for this procedure—pulling him in and out of an induced sleep throughout the years only to inject him full of experimental compounds that burned him from the inside out. You hated it, almost as much as he did. But that was just the way things had to be—for now, at least. It’s what the Russians had brought you here to do—and funnily enough, it was the only way to keep him safe.

There was a scoff from Soldier Boy, followed by a soft thud as he allowed his head to collapse back onto the metal frame. “Yeah, you’d know. . . fuckin’ stewardess on the sidelines, draped in that goddamn lab coat while they pluck your guinea pig from the greatest fuckin’ nap of his life.”

You let loose a light huff at that, the trembling in your fingertips beginning to slip away at last. “Yeah?” You began moving off to the side of the room where various tables lined the walls, coming to a stop at the nearest one. It was adorned with nothing but a black, sealable case with a label signed sample 246. Your own handwriting.

“And what’d you dream about?” You asked, reaching to unclip the case before lifting up the top compartment to reveal what horrors lay inside.

“You.”

Your hands faltered on the case, your chin slightly buckling to take in the view of the table as that singular word bounced about the dark corners of your mind. Suddenly, your breathing sounded a lot louder in your ears, and you managed to catch a slight hitch in your airways.

“What about me?” You pushed on almost timidly—dreading the honest answer to such an open-ended question.

Throughout the years spent in this facility, there were various versions of yourself that you could recall—creatures you’d become in order to endure and survive the brutalities of your work under the Russians. None of those versions had a commendable reputation—not one of them. And that scared you—the thought that Soldier Boy had come to meet so many of those prior versions, and that he might’ve forgotten the one he’d fallen in love with all those years ago. If you were put in front of the mirror, you couldn’t honestly say that you’d recognise yourself, either.

There was a pause from Soldier Boy, and the silence was so loud that your ears began to ring. “Don’t play stupid with me,” he said at last, coupled by the soft clinking of chains against the table.

Instinctively, you glanced over your shoulder with an undertone of panic. But when you took in the view of him, he was still cemented in the same position, and his head was already turned toward you—likely to prowl after your every move like a waiting predator.

“Yeah, that’s right, look at me,” he grinned, but the gesture was ingenuine, and it was plucked from his lips quicker than you could blink it away.

“It’s the same dream, every fuckin’ time,” he continued. “Birdsong, all around—god, the fuckers never stick their beaks in the bark. . . Anyways, there’s sun streaming in through the windows. And there you are, in my bed, a mewling mess between the sheets with not an inch of modesty anywhere on that fine body of yours. I’ve got you pinned, and I mean really pinned between the sheets—skin’s fuckin’ bruising—and instead of pleading for some sort of release, you’re telling me you love me. Pretty sure I remember the feeling of my ballsack puckering up at that.”

A smile crept its way back onto Soldier Boy’s lips as his gaze raked over your stunted expression, and this time, it was founded on blatant curiosity.

“You look surprised,” he remarked, and there was a lot of room for him to poke at any aspect of your reaction, but he held onto his tongue with a practiced calmness. You couldn’t help but feel as though he had some unspoken motive.

You drew in a steadying breath, fighting to control the influx of mental pictures that his dream seemed to coerce into your brain. But it was hard to deny something its rightful place, especially when said dream of his was not a dream at all, but a memory.

Slowly, you turned your head back to the case at hand, focus falling onto the singular needle cushioned within a foam imprint. With one hand, you reached to free the needle, and with the other, you clicked the the case closed again.

“I am surprised,” you admitted, bringing the needle up to your eye line as you studied the blue serum behind the glass.

“Do tell.”

You waited and watched as a bubble soared through the compound to cling to the uppermost point of the vile, then you flicked your finger across the glass to dissipate its fragile skeleton. You lowered the needle and turned to face Soldier Boy, who entertained a mildly curious look on his features.

“This sleep you’ve been under, it’s not exactly. . . well-understood. We’ve hit a few bumps in the road. The worst of the effects has to do with the patient’s cognitive function.”

He scoffed. “What, you mean to tell me I’m goin’ dumb?”

“No,” you answered carefully, taking a few steps toward the table. “It’s your memory. There were times after we’ve woken you where you failed the standard procedure questionnaire—things about your life. . . thing’s that you’ve answered a hundred times before. You should know it all by now—it’s really just there as a sanity ritual. But, like I said, there were times you’ve failed it, and it doesn’t always happen, but it’s becoming more frequent.”

You stopped before the table with a few inches of space to spare, noting the way the confusion on Soldier Boy’s face seemed to deepen with each passing second that you spoke.

“There’s some retrograde effect to it, though,” you continued. “Sometimes, you wake up in a fit state. You’re calm, and you’ve got a memory as best as it’s ever been. . .” You trailed into uncertainty, feeling at war with your role in his current memories.

You knew perfectly well where you stood with him, but you wanted to—needed to know what version of you currently stood with him, and that all banked on just how much his drug-addled brain remembered this time around—details of his life before the sleeping tank, about his purpose, and about his relationship with you.

His brows furrowed as he gazed up at you. “And the other times?” He prompted you to continue.

You cleared your throat self-consciously, your eyes wandering down to the hands chained at his side. “Well, the other times, you wake up explosively, blindly dealing fists faster than the guards can reach for their weapons. You even managed to kill a guard, once.”

“Badass,” he chuckled smoothly, deeply—the familiarity of it tugged at the fibres of your heart. “But don’t you get any ideas about what today’s little skirmish was all about.”

Those words caught you off guard. You tore your gaze away from his knuckles, brows kneading together as you acquainted the mischievous glint in his eyes—those goddamn eyes. A dick move from heaven to give him a feature as beautifully persuasive as that. You couldn’t help but drown in their green depths whenever he sentenced you to a hearty stare, and it’s an ocean you’d never need, nor want rescuing from.

“What’re you on about?” You asked.

“Don’t tell me you weren’t thinkin’ about that guard I fisted back there.” He lifted his first from the table to make a commotion that aided his words. “He tell ya I went berserk on him, hm?”

The hum in his voice sent a barely perceptible shiver down your neck, and it pulled forward a sudden memory of his frame pressed up against your back—broad, bare chest cushioning your exposed shoulder blades as he sank you deeper into the mattress with each, drilling movement of his pelvis into yours. His lips would find your ear, murmuring endearing words of encouragement to spur you on, doing so good for me, sweet girl—my sweet girl, and he’d hum ever so sweetly at the sound of your rapid undoing.

You pushed the memory away, reinforcing the grip on the needle that had begun to slip under your frail focus.

“He said you were a hassle, that’s all,” you told Soldier Boy. “And that he put you in your place.”

He gave a scoff the most scornful you’ve heard thus far. “Please, dickhead’s got the swing of ninny. Didn’t even leave a scratch. I, on the other hand, gave him the slightest taste of my dick with that punch—and I’ll tell ya, I knew damn well what I was doing for every glorious second of it. It wasn’t the goddamn drugs pumped into me.”

A hopeful spark lit up in your chest as you slowly began to confirm the parameters of his mental state, and you felt eager to ask him just how much he remembered this time around, but you fought to compose yourself. Instead, you asked, “did you pass the questionnaire?”

Soldier Boy held your stare with an almost devilish glint to his eye. “Cum laude,” he said.

You couldn’t help but let slip a breath of a relieved chuckle, but Soldier Boy’s charm sobered up pretty quickly as he forged a more serious look. His eyes wandered down to the needle in your hand, which he acknowledged for the first time since you’d pulled it out.

“This the part where you stick it in me?” He caught himself with a sultry chuckle, his eyes fluttering closed as he turned his head to face the ceiling again. “Man. . . never thought I’d hear those words outta my own mouth, that’s usually your line.”

Heat momentarily flushed your cheeks at that comment, but you pushed it away and lowered your gaze to the needle in grasp, a heavy sense of regret coupling your words as you pushed out a soft, “I’m sorry.”

“Well, what’s it gonna be this time ‘round? Burnin’ me blind? Cramps that feel like a fuckin’ mole trying to explode from my stomach? A full body burn-up and debilitating seizures seem to be a favourite.”

You listened to him with a guilt in your heart that had long since hollowed out much of your chest—there was not much else to feel in all the time between his ritualistic awakenings. “I’m sorry, Ben,” you told him again, only because you were unsure of what else you could be saying.

You let slip a heavy sigh of defeat at the circumstances, before you seized up on the name you’d accidentally let slip. You tore your gaze away from the needle to glance at Soldier Boy with slight anticipation, but he only turned to stare at you with a quieted expression. The use of his real name didn’t seem to come as any unfamiliar shock, and that gave you some solace on the mental debate of how much he remembered about your relationship.

He gave a small jerk of his chin. “Come on, then, do your thing and get it over with. Don’t care for all the fuckin’ edging.”

You closed in on the last of the space separating your bodies, and you took the time to observe the clean pair of scrubs he wore this time around, as well as the gentle whiff of scentless soap radiating from his skin. They made a habit of washing him shortly after pulling him from sleep, usually once the questionnaire was completed. As much as they considered his bodily hygiene, you only wished they’d taken it a step further to address the growing beanstalk of a beard plastered to his chin—not his best look by far, but it was something you could work with.

You reached out your free hand to hover over his arm, eyes trailing up to his. He watched you closely, intensely, with an emotion not quite decodable by your means. “I’m going to inject it into your arm,” you warned him.

“And take your damn time with it, apparently,” he said, lifting his arm to cover what little distance he could manage before the chains reinforced their hold.

You turned your eyes onto his presented arm, and hesitantly, you reached to snake your hand under his elbow. His skin felt so warm against you—it was comforting.

“In these six months you’ve been asleep, I tried my best to modify the compound to have as little side effects as possible. I’ve tested it on the animal subjects, and at most, they showed an elevated body temperature.”

“Yeah, well, let’s just see how much my primal DNA counts in my favour,” he scoffed as he watched you at work, but never once did that look in his eyes waver.

Your lips tackled silence as you focused on the task of inserting the needle. You didn’t have to do much searching to choose the vein to victimise—the vessels were quite open to appreciation along the length of his arm. You lifted the needle toward your vein of choice and slowly inserted it through the skin. Carefully, you began to press down on the plunger, watching as the contents drained from the vile and into the vessel streaming beneath the skin.

Ben sucked air through his teeth, which snapped your attention to his face. His eyes were screwed shut, his teeth displayed in a clench as his head burrowed back slightly further into the table.

“Are you okay?” You asked him.

“Feelin’ fuckin’ fantastic,” he pushed out sarcastically, the squeeze of his eyes yet to let up.

“Good to know,” you muttered with a brief, dismissive flick of your eyes before you focused on the needle once more.

With the last of the contents emptied, you carefully released the hold on his elbow to draw a swab of cotton from your coat. You pressed the material over the insertion point of the needle and applied a light pressure before you began withdrawing the steel length from his skin.

You set the needle onto the table beside his arm and retrieved a plaster from your pocket, and after removing the paper film, you secured the cotton against his skin. You reclaimed the needle and briefly left Ben’s side to place it back into the case before you returned to monitor his vitals.

“Do you feel any different?” You asked, coming to stand beside his arm.

“I’m hot as fuck and more sober than I’d like to be,” he answered wryly.

You were tempted to be snarky, but then you realised that compared to his usual state—the one you’d often come to find him in back in his prime days—this very well could be considered a difference of note.

There was a silence that carried out for a few minutes as you stood waiting to observe any worrisome changes, and it was never uncomfortable—not with him, but Ben eventually put an end to it.

“You know,” he began, a singular brow slightly cocked with curiosity. “You didn’t ask why I punched that dickhead asshole back there. I mean, we’ve established that my brain’s pretty much like that . . . what’s his name? The dude was born somewhere after me, smart as fuck—Stephenson fuckin’ somethin’—anyway, who gives a fuck? I got all my shit in one place, I’m not a goddamn freak show of flying fists, so ain’t ya the least bit curious about it?”

You glanced at him with a hint of surprise. “It’s not exactly off-brand for you to go around punching people, even on your good days,” you pointed out with a hint of amusement.

He rocked his head side to side in a gesture of acceptance. “Eh, fair enough. But I’ll tell ya,” he said.

You watched him closely, a soft smile on your lips. It felt good to talk to him normally. You’d missed this dearly. “I’m listening.”

“The fucker made a jab at me about you, said he’s been keeping one hand in your panties since they put me under—takin’ sweet care of you all the while. So I gave him a light face fuck, the only action he’s ever gotten, and I’d have done a whole lot more had the four assholes out there not strapped me down like some kinky bondage plaything.”

Your heart fluttered at the idea that he’d gotten so protective over you. But you barely had time to process the emotion before he continued.

“He ever touch you?” Ben’s stare was hard, but despite the soldier act, you caught the way his eyes briefly flickered down to your lips.

“No,” you answered instantly, bristling slightly at his nerve to ask. “Never. He’s all talk, no show, and even if he had something to show for it, I can handle my own.”

Am impressed smirk stretched Ben’s lips. “Yes, ma’am,” he drawled. “And I always did love that about you.”

Those words paved way for the question you’d been itching to ask since the beginning. You dropped your gaze to your hands, planted against the table beside his.

“Ben,” you began softly. He gave a deep hum of acknowledgment. “Just how much do you remember about me?”

There were a few uncaptioned moments of silence, and you almost wished you could see his face to decipher his thoughts, but some other emotion kept your eyes glued to veins of his arm.

“Everything,” he answered at last. “Every damn thing.”

You glanced at him, feeling a mixture of surprise and relief at that confession, and released a long sigh. “You have no idea how relieved that makes me feel.”

Ben held your stare intently, his eyes softening a fraction. “Those times you said my memory got fucked. . . did I forget you?”

You nodded hesitantly and saw the slight ghost of disbelief whisk across his eyes, which caused your heart to ache with the less fond memories between the two of you.

The first time it’d happened was twelve years ago. You’d been right beside the pod they’d pulled him from, and in the midst of his confusion and blind rage, he’d grabbed ahold of you at the neck—another strange face, nobody of any significance to him. Just another damned Russian. You’d been strangled in his grasp for quite a while; the guards coming to your aid were unable to pry his hands from your windpipes in time to escape a blackout.

You’d woken up a day later with severe bruising to your neck and collar bone, and the only news that could’ve been considered good was the fact that you were lucky enough to escape his rage alive. The force with which you were choked should have killed you, you knew that. The only reason you’d survived is because you, yourself, were a Supe.

You’d met Ben back in his prime, before the team had staged the coup that had landed him here. When he was taken by the Russians and betrayed by everybody around him, you’d struck a deal with the higher-ups to get a foot on the inside of the entire operation. Under them, you worked as a scientist to formulate compounds that would enhance Ben to the level that the Russians needed him at.

The first time Ben saw you walk into the medical room, he’d nearly imploded with relief, panic and betrayal all at once, but you’d never let on your relationship with him to anybody within the operation. So to any outside onlooker, you two were strangers to one another, only connected by the duty of the experimenter and her experiment.

It was crucial to keep things that way, especially when you’d been in the company of some of the Russian generals who wanted to witness the first experimental injection on Ben firsthand. Upon his recognition of you, you had to convince everybody that he was undergoing an episode of psychosis—formulating a romantic relationship between the two of you that had never existed in the first place. You had blamed it on the effects of the induced coma, and it had easily passed as an excuse due to the little knowledge possessed on its side effects at the time. Granted, not much progress was made in that field even in this current day and age.

Eventually, when you’d managed to gain enough reputation to demand treatment sessions alone with Ben, you’d gotten the opportunity to explain everything. He had little to be happy about, given that everybody he once trusted had betrayed him in a blink, and the one person he had left to cherish and love was currently pumping him with unreliable modifications of Compound V.

But with time, he’d come to accept it.

You weren’t proud of it. And in the moments that Ben would awaken only to forget you, he’d made sure to toss out every vile insult and cuss word he could each time you slid that needle into his arm, which only broke your heart further. But it was the price to pay to ensure nothing worse would happen to him.

The only barrier that had been set between him and a fate worse off, was you, and that’s a fact you’d tried hard to remind yourself of in all the passing years you’d spent drowning in guilt for your sins. But even then, it never made enduring his mind-swept states easier, and especially not when he looked at you with such hatred solidified in his gaze that it became all you could think about.

You came back to the present when Ben’s hand struggled through the restraints to graze your fingers. You flinched at the touch, at first, but it wasn’t long before your hand relaxed within his hold. So warm, so gentle, even considering all that he’s been through. It was comforting to know just how human he still was.

“Untie me,” he said, and you opened your mouth to argue before he cut you off with an air of eager reassurance. “I feel fine. It’s been a good couple of minutes, and nothin’s happened. Don’t ya trust me?”

You tilted your head slightly at him. “You know I do,” you murmured, your hand tightening within his. “But Ben, there’s something el—”

“Untie me first, then tell me about all the shit I’ve got comin’ for me,” he insisted.

Your eyes scanned the room self-consciously, picking out the two corners that had cameras mounted to their wall. “You know they’re watching us,” you told him. “Our every move.”

“Yeah, fuck those fuckers,” he sniffed, following your gaze to do his own quick sweep of the room. “Fuckin’ assholes!” He called aloud, and you tightened your hand in his as a warning. He glanced back at you with a slight scoff. “What? They’ve seen my bare balls and ass, shit they’ve even stroked it. They know damn well how I feel about them.”

“Don’t provoke them,” you told him, and he flashed you a look that screamed bet, though he chose to resort to his best behaviour as he clamped down on his tongue. “I can’t take your chains off, they’ll storm the place the moment I do. I’m sorry.”

Ben held your gaze for a moment as he considered the circumstances, then his attention slid past you and lifted to the ceiling above your head.

You turned your head to follow his gaze. “What?” You asked, turning back to him with curiosity.

“Every time they roll me in and outta this room, I get a glimpse of the security room,” he said in a low murmur, raw emphasis on keeping his words out the enemy’s ears. “There’s two cameras in this room. One behind ya—“ he made a gesture with a flick of his eyes, “—and one behind me in the opposite corner. And it’s my lucky fuckin’ day, cause the camera behind me’s busted.”

You frowned as he spoke. “And what favours has that got to offer you?” You asked.

Ben seemed content to explain. “Camera behind you’s the only one still workin’. But your body—god bless it in its fuckin’ entirety—is blocking their dandy view of my dick.”

You listened carefully, the crease in your brow beginning to loosen at the understanding of where he was headed. “Absolutely not,” you scolded him, a dumbstruck smile poking through.

“Oh, come on,” Ben drawled. “Why the fuck not? I’ve been all pressed up in that sweaty fuckin’ tank for weeks, months, years on end and every time my eyes close, I get that goddamn dream of you and I, hittin’ pound town like there’s no fucking tomorrow—shit, and I mean no tomorrow. Seriously, all day, all night—“

“All right, all right,” you cut him short, heat beginning to flush into your cheeks.

“Now, it’s not gonna be a recreation of that sweet, sweet day,” Ben said regretfully. “But if you could give a man a taste of relief by using that hand for somethin’ other than sticking a needle in my arm, I will fuck you senseless as a reward as soon as I’m freed the fuck outta these chains—you just gimme a time and place. That sound like a plan, baby?”

You couldn’t deny the hot burn that jolted it’s way into your core at the sound of that promise, but you pushed it aside to address the other issue you hadn’t yet been given the chance to voice.

“It’s a date, Ben, but you need to listen to me about that something else,” you told him, releasing his hand.

Ben puckered his lips as he coaxed forward a shushing noise, jerking his chin toward his hard on. He didn’t often need a lot of pampering to erect his dick—the bloody thing could get off on the scent of your perfume alone.

With a frustrated sigh, you tossed a quick glance over your shoulder, glimpsing the camera that had been peering over your shoulder since you’d set foot in here. You saw it blinking with a red light at its centre, the dead giveaway of recording. You then turned to look at the opposite camera, and it didn’t hold the same red dot in its core, which meant that Ben was, indeed, right.

Of course he was.

“Oh, for fuck’s sakes, Ben,” you muttered in disbelief, tensely guiding the hand that had held his only seconds ago toward the bulge in his pants, simultaneously shifting your body to shield the scene more firmly. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Try not to make it too obvious,” Ben advised smugly, his eyes dipping to where your hand slipped under the flimsy waistband of his scrub pants.

“Shut up.” You were immediately greeted by his firm hard-on, not having any underwear beneath the scrubs. It felt warm and swollen against your palm, and when you passed a curious thumb over his tip, you felt the damp kiss of his pre-cum.

“Yeah, he’s a little excited—you felt it, get a move on,” he ordered impatiently.

You’d forgotten just how much of a curt dick he could be when it came to anything remotely sexual.

You wrapped your fingers around his length, your thumb gathering all tangible pre-cum to spread it along the head before you began to pump him with slow, fluid strokes.

Ben’s head collapsed back onto the table, his mouth falling slightly ajar with breathy grunts of pleasure.

“I need to make it less obvious?” You sniped in a harsh, low tone. “How about you?”

“Fuck,” Ben spat, lifting his head with what looked like great effort to face you. “Forgot just how good you feel, you’ll forgive a man for being expressive.”

Your heart fluttered at his compliment, and you tightened your hold on his girth to applaud his behaviour. “Keep on talking to me,” you said. “Make it look like we’re having a conversation.”

“Yeah. . .” Ben stammered distractedly, a clear indication that he was struggling to multitask.

“Oh, for fuck’s sakes,” you muttered under your breath, picking up the pace of your strokes. You made sure to come down on his balls with considerable force to add to the stimulation, and he let slip a strangled, gruff moan that caused your core to ignite its own fire.

“Atta girl, pumping it almost as well as your pussy does,” he praised breathlessly as he struggled against his restrains with a frustrated grunt. “These fucking things. . .” He trailed off and met your gaze. “What was it you wanted to say?” He asked, his chest beginning to heave more rapidly now.

You were doubtful that you had his full ear to unload the importance of what you were about to tell him, but you decided to spill that can anyways, simultaneously making sure to keep up the pace of your strokes.

“This is the last injection you’ll ever have to get, Ben,” you told him softly. Ben’s sex-addled haze sobered up real quickly at that, his eyes now fully focused onto your face.

“The fuck you on about?” He asked.

“Tonight, you’re getting out,” you told him, feeling as the heat around his length began to build with each continued stroke. You could see Ben strain with the movements, wanting desperately to reach his release while trying to focus on your words. “I made contact with this group, they’ve been looking for you for a while—followed your trail all the way out here. You wanna know what the Russians intended to use you for? Well, Turns out, you’re the one strongest biological weapon that planet Earth has to offer.”

His eyes widened briefly at that before screwing shut as his head collapsed back onto the table with a strained growl, and then you felt him implode, his warm seed trailing down your hand. You gave a few more slow pumps to urge the last of it out, then gently released his manhood and discretely pulled your hand from his pants.

“Feel better now?” You asked, bringing your hand to wipe his juices onto your coat.

Ben lifted his head just in time to catch that act, which caused him to grunt in disappointment.

“Do it right next time,” he scolded you. “You know you love the taste of it.”

You did, but this wasn’t exactly the time or place for you to express that particular savoury tooth. “Listen,” you continued the earlier conversation. “This group, they need you, and come tonight, they’ll break you out of that fucking tank you’ve been stuck in all these years.”

Ben’s expression seemed to knead both relief and anticipation as he considered your words. “Where will you be?” He asked earnestly. “I’m not leaving without you.”

You took his hand into your own, and he squeezed it tightly. “You won’t,” you assured him. “I’ll be right there beside you when you wake up. But for now, you’ve got to go along with everything—act normal, like it’s any other day.”

Ben nodded slowly, the most docile and compliant you’d ever seen him. “These people . . . how much do you know about ‘em?”

You shook your head slightly. “Not a lot,” you admitted. “But enough to know they’re the lesser evil. They get us out of here, you do what you need to do, and then we run.”

“Yeah, fuck it, I’ve had worse odds,” he decided, something which you could contest to. “This group, they have a name?”

“Yeah,” you said, recalling the blatant stupidity of it. “They call themselves The Boys.”

═════════════════

A/n: Man, this was pumped out of me at 3 am because my biological urges just decided to go full-blown FUCK YEAH for Jensen Ackles. Arg I NEED him. Anyways, stay tuned for part 2 & 3 with eventual, delicious smut 🤭 Thank you for reading! All likes, comments & reblogs are deeply appreciated ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀི

Tags: @gibson-g1rl @fallbhind

Comment/message me to be added to/removed from the tag list for any future Soldier Boy works!

Other works: The Boys Masterlist

398 notes · View notes

the-newlymadeweeb · 1 year ago

Text

His Girl

Luke Castellan x female!reader

Description: Luke spends a moment with his favourite hot tempered darling.

Gif is not mine, credits to the creator.

*****************************************************************************

It was an agreed upon opinion that battle axes were incredibly unconventional but you had decided from the moment you had it made that this would be your weapon of choice. And by the gods, did you have a temper. You'd joke that at least your brutish rage would match your brutish weapon. It was extremely ironic when the owl symbol burned brightly over your head and not the symbolic blessing of Ares.

Luke always thought you were a fascinating person: soft features sharply contrasted with fiery eyes and an axe. All that righteous rage never looked so beautiful. He'd received a very limited amount of blessings that were for him alone, but you were satiating and comforting and the hollowed feeling in his chest filled when you let him reach out and accept him in your hands and heart.

And sometimes he'd think, okay maybe there's some salvation and goodness for me.

"Luke? What are you–"

"Just– let me, okay?" He asked as he traced his thumb across your brow and cheekbone, his other hand cupping the back of your neck, cradling you close– admiring, imbibing, "the twins tried to prank you again?"

You rolled your eyes, "would've been funny if I didn't see it a mile away."

"Is that so? Is that why they had me hide your axe?"

He laughed, drawing you close, kissing away the claims of betrayal and conspiracy.

"Gods, you're so beautiful," He sighed.

Sooner or later things were going to change. Luke had a feeling that the summer solstice would truly stir the pot and for all your anger, he knew that when it came down to it, you might not side with him always. In a way, Athena cannot be trusted and hence, neither could you or even Annabeth for a matter of fact.

That wasn't going to change his mind or the skeleton of a plan he'd created but it did make him begin to miss you already, and he knew that he'd covet you even more as the time passed and he'll miss your precious righteous anger and the bittersweet taste of salt and sweat that he kissed off your lips and cheeks after strenuous tasks or games.

His girl with fiery eyes and an axe.

"Yeah, yeah; you keep complimenting me while aiding and abetting the twins. Cancels each other out."

You grinned, tucking your head into the crook of his neck, sneaking your thumbs under his shirt, brushing his sides. You know Luke'll return your weapons and Travis and Connor will be sent for their showers after the entire Hermes cabin finishes theirs for the next week. All in all, dating Head Councelor has its perks.

"Your birthday's coming up, got any requests?" He asks, pressing a kiss to your hair before leaning back to look you in the eye.

"Nah, maybe we can spend the day sparring. I can show you this technique I've developed."

"Sparring, huh?" He smirks, "sure, I'd love to see this technique of yours."

"Wow, leave me alone," you roll your eyes, swatting at him.

He catched your hand and presses two kisses between your knuckles and as always, almost love a traditional practice you do the same to him.

"Alright I gotta go, the new kids got their Greek lesson now," you say.

"Wish I had such a gorgeous tutor back in the day," he teases, grinning as you stick your tongue at him, "I'll see you later."

"Yeah you will. I love you."

"I love you more.'

His girl with fiery eyes and an axe.

*****************************************************************************

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #pjo fanfic #percy jackson #luke castellan #charlie bushnell #lc

1K notes · View notes

zivazivc · 5 months ago

Text

Because of a recent ask about the dad's name I am dropping this old drawing that should go along with a oneshot I doubt I'll ever finish because I don't like it anymore, so better I just put this out there.

The dad's name is Keanu and his husband's name is Wave. I don't actually know anything about them but here they are 😅

And you can find a portion of the unfinished fic with this scene under the cut. Warning: Floyd is a mess. A much much bigger one than I actually/currently think his present self is, hence why I don't like this so much anymore (and it was never meant to be canon to my ex bandmates au anyway). It's still pretty funny though.

. . .

Before Bruce could notice the change in Floyd’s mood his eyes caught movement behind him by the entrance to the restaurant. His grin eased down into a more relaxed smile for him to return to business.

“We have another troll family coming in,” he said and turned around to pick up a set of small, freshly-printed and laminated menus from the counter. “Been getting quite a number of those since we hosted the concert.”

Floyd snatched them from his hand, eager to push the replay of his anxiety to the back of his mind, and get back to work. “I’m on it," he said determinedly. "You take care of the big guys.”

He didn’t even know if he could handle carrying another Vaycaytioner-sized family-sized order of food. He hogged the regularly-sized troll customers as much as he could.

The new guests had settled behind one of the small inflatable plastic tables in the pool area close to the entrance where the sun was shining through. Even with their lower halves submerged in water, Floyd could immediately tell that they were Techno Trolls from the way their hair flowed in the air, like gravity was just an afterthought to them.

Once he got closer, Floyd saw that it was presumably two dads around his age with their two kids. His eyes immediately glued themselves to the older, more physically attractive of the two men, because that’s what he always seemed to find himself doing in these situations. Not that it was his fault the guy was hot and Floyd had been grounded to perfume bottles, armadillo RVs, and underground bunkers for months on end.

When he made it to the pool edge and stood right above their floating table, he finally caught himself gazing. He blinked and reeled his stupid horny thoughts back in before he would do something dumb like bite his lip and give him the bedroom eyes in front of his husband and kids. Not that something like that had been completely beneath him in the past. But he was currently on a shift in his brother’s restaurant, so…

He put on a more acceptable, family-friendly smile.

“Hi, welcome,” he said easily, sounding nothing like how his spasmodic thoughts felt in his head. “How’s everyone doing? You guys hungry?”

He crouched down and leaned over the edge of the pool to hand them the menus.

“Starving, actually,” the attractive techno troll said with a friendly laugh in his voice, and leaned over the inflatable table to grab them. And Floyd’s eyes traveled down that toned arm and exposed stomach. Not only did he ooze the confident, warm charisma of someone who had his life together, he was also fit. Floyd almost fell into the pool in his attempt to accidentally brush fingers with him. The guy was back in his spot in the water before either of those things happened, much to Floyd’s relief and disappointment.

He straightened up and pulled up his notepad and pencil almost like a shield. Fuck, Floyd, get your head straight! “Can I get you anything to drink while you decide what you'll have?”

“Nah, I think we’ll look first,” the guy replied without lifting his eyes as he handed the menus to the rest.

Floyd was about to give up on his first round of trying to get this man’s attention, and sigh in relief that his stupid wants weren’t being entertained, when he registered a different set of eyes staring hard at him. He glanced to the left, to the other guy behind the table.

The intensity of the glare nearly made Floyd recoil.

His first thought was: Shit, I wasn’t even trying to be obvious. Because when he was, the angry stares he would receive from jealous boyfriends or girlfriends were usually heated and flustered, not intensely sharp and cold. The steadiness with which he was being pinned didn’t even feel like a newly developed loathing.

Shit was also Floyd’s second thought. He’s looking at me like we know each other… I haven’t already fucked his man before, have I? Floyd wasn’t so good with faces or names …or memory in general when it came to certain episodes in his life. But surely the hot husband would have remembered him at least…

Then his mind wandered to the other possibility. Did we fuck??

Whenever he tried to iron out his life, his stupid past actions always seemed to come back to bite him in the ass. He really hoped this wasn’t one of those cases.

He stared at the troll’s face, trying to place him somewhere. Techno Troll (that didn’t narrow it down that much), hair in two different gradients of blue, dark purple skin, a younger-looking face even for a Techno Troll, bright green eyes, and green freckles…

Sweat broke down Floyd’s back, and it had nothing to do with his recovering physical condition.

He swallowed uncomfortably and instinctively pulled his pencil and paper slightly closer to his chest. His eyes finally looked over to the other side of the inflatable table. He had only briefly glanced at the kids before, enough to know they were kids and uninteresting. But looking at them now… Floyd immediately deviated a couple of shades from his natural hue.

Neither had any of the hunky dad’s warm colors; in fact, the kids weren’t even fully Techno. They were mixed like his friend Liv. The scarce strands of thin, luminescent Techno cords were nearly swallowed up by dense, fluffy, regular hair. The girl—they were a boy and a girl—was lounging on a pool float with her feet in the air, and Floyd could see that instead of flippers, she had legs with the unusually webbed feet, kind of something like an amphibian. The other kid—the boy—had skin that didn't have the dim effect or rubbery texture to it that Techno Trolls normally had, and it was an uncomfortably familiar shade of turquoise. Both of them sported hot pink bangs over their eyes.

“Ah,” Floyd uttered out loud like some kind of dumbass.

The three heads who had been engrossed in the restaurant menu all looked up, surprised to see him still standing there. Floyd evaded their gazes only to lock eyes with the purple troll again.

He… He was the kid from the week-long, non-stop techno rave, back when Floyd had been deep in his sour worm addiction and going through a long manic episode to top it off… At one point during the party someone brought out pure citric acid and Floyd blanked out for three days straight after that, only to wake up in an unfamiliar bed with a double surprise…

It was like a switch, but now Floyd could clearly remember the young adult version of this troll floating around his dorm room with the egg from Floyd’s head in his hands, panicking about how his parents were going to kill him, all while Floyd silently lay in bed contemplating if he should mention the other egg stuck in the kid's hair or if he should just say he’s going to the bathroom and then never return.

“Uhm.” He swallowed uncomfortably, wanting to be anywhere but here. Maybe not the crystal bottle, but anywhere else. “…I think I should get you a different waiter…”

The purple troll’s glare did not waver in the slightest. “I think so too.”

Floyd took that as permission to bail on him a second time. He turned around on his heel and practically ran from the pool edge.

“Keanu, you good?” he heard the husband ask, sounding obviously confused about what just transpired.

Well, at least Floyd knew what to call that troll in his head now instead of just "kid"…

. . .

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #my art #trolls oc #eddy m #ravin #techno trolls #keanu #wave #fanfic #trolls floyd #answered #bright colors #eye strain #saturated colors

208 notes · View notes

dragon-ascent · 1 year ago

Note

Hello, how are you ? Since you have open request I’d like to ask something : How do you think our favorite dragon Zhongli will react to his wife being accused of lying because they have corrected an historian on a false fact about Morax ?

Since English isn’t my first language I’m afraid this is not clear, I’m sorry.

Ooh, I like it, here's what I've come up with <3

-----

The tension is palpable and certainly not what you were hoping to land yourself in when you accepted Zhongli's request to be his plus-one aboard the Pearl Galley.

"Forgive me, Mr. Changying, but that's where I'll have to correct you," you tell the stocky man before you. The food and drinks on the table are long-untouched. "Rex Lapis didn't take on such a grand ten-headed and eight-armed form to exterminate those sea creatures. In fact, he personally went door to door to trap them in little Geo contraptions, even having a bit of trouble with the.... particularly wrigglier ones."

Changying's eyes practically roll into the back of his head. "Do you truly believe that rubbish just because that is what's commonly peddled? That the Geo archon, who could raise the mountains and calm the tides without breaking a sweat, found the task of getting rid of tiny sea creatures tedious and challenging?"

Sighing, you say, "Even the gods are subject to being less-than-perfect in their methods. And besides, the damn things were inside people's houses - brute strength would not have been handy at all. Rex Lapis needed to be careful and meticulous so that none of his people were harmed. Hence the Geo cages."

Despite how neatly you'd presented your counterpoint, Changying merely scoffs as he adjusts his glasses. He jabs a finger at you accusingly. "You're lying, just like everyone else," he growls, "and you clearly have no respect for our late archon! Do you even like him?"

Your breath nearly hitches in your throat as you gaze up at him in shock. "Ex...excuse me?"

The man pulls no punches as he continues his rant against you. "How can you so blindly believe what the masses think? Maybe if you were a real Rex Lapis follower like me, you would learn some critical thinking skills and draw more accurate conclusions!"

"I'm afraid I am on the side of my partner here, Mr. Changying," cuts in Zhongli, placing an arm on your shoulder. Relief floods your veins as you let out the breath you'd been holding. "They are correct in explaining that Rex Lapis had to go the simplistic route when dealing with Liyue's sea creature infestation."

Changying's eyes grow wide. "Forgive me, Mr. Zhongli," he murmurs, and you're not ignorant to the way his tone mellows out and becomes more respectful as he continues to speak. "I didn't know you were also in agreement of that story. But let me explain why he likely-"

"It is alright for you to have your own interpretations of events, especially for a being with an expansive history that is always being debated over," says Zhongli calmly, poised as always, "but when these interpretations are unrealistic and you still try to present them as fact...while belittling other people, no less...the line must be drawn somewhere, yes?"

Changying blanches, stammering, "Er, but don't you think Rex Lapis would appreciate deviating thought processes more, especially when..."

Zhongli's eyes narrow ever so slightly, his visage still calm as a pond. "Perhaps so, but what he would not appreciate is his people trying to one-up others in an attempt to prove they are his most loyal followers." Your husband glances at you. "I know my partner well, and they love Rex Lapis dearly. Not only do you accuse them of lying, you also undermine the love they hold for the deity."

His hand brushes against yours and he interlaces his fingers with you, giving a gentle, reassuring squeeze. You smile softly.

Changying scrambles for words, useless excuses and explanations that hardly justify him being on his high horse.

Zhongli, unamused, fires his parting shot. "Far be it for an ordinary man like myself to tell you what to do, but here is some advice: gather reliable citations for your claims, provide succinct evidence, and be respectful of those with opposing views, and perhaps then Rex Lapis would consider you a favorite of his."

With that, Zhongli escorts you away from the scene, knowing full well you will always be his favorite by far - the approving smile he gives you conveys that perfectly.

#sini writes #zhongli #genshin impact #zhongli x reader #genshin x reader #rex lapis

641 notes · View notes

blue-jisungs · 1 year ago

Note

Hii! I hope you're having a nice day or night I would like to request Skz reacting to their idol!s/o performing on MAMA Awards with a very cool and dark concept with their own group, something similar to Itzy's 2021 Mama performance or (G)I-DLE's MMA 2022 performance? Ty!!!

s/o performing on MAMA with dark concept ♡

author's note. thank u for the req!! i hope u like the outcome ^^ i tried my best, i added some like,, solo stage moments??

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

so so so soooo proud

staring at you in awe all the time like,, with all due respect to your members – he’s mesmerized

not only by your beauty, duh but your outfit is something that he just can’t help but stare

he’s extremely proud because he knew how nervous you were before the performance

but oh dude when you drop a diss at mama

the kids look at him in shock but he didn’t know either

the mischievous look in your eye makes him even more mesmerized

after the performance chan mentions it, not to make people suspect anything

"the performances were really, really good. personally, i enjoyed the dark ones"

mhm we all know which specific one !!

┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]

minho is as anxious as you — it’s first time performing such a dark concept and you’re going to have a solo in it

he knew it since he helped you practice

hence why he’s nervous. not to get him wrong, he knows you’ll slay but it’s a hard dance break

he gets chills the second you enter the stage, a powerful walk along your members

the performance is smooth-sailing and then there’s time for your solo

and keeping it short: you destroyed the stage

minho couldn’t be more proud, especially that you were on everyone’s lips in the industry even weeks after mama

┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]

mf can’t sit still in one place when he knows it’s your turn perform

his members have to calm him down 😭

you wouldn’t tell him what’s the concept – only that it’s dark and cool concept

he mouths the lyrics of the song, amazed by the stage and outfits

he’s kind of disappointed when it’s over and light go out

but then boom, suddenly there’s a light shining on you and your leader

changbin frowns, not sure what’s happening – and suddenly you have a solo stage, performing a quite sexy dance to tease your next album 🫣

(the members have to tug his clothes to remind him to close his mouth)

┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]

he’s more excited than you 😭

asks you to send pics of your outfit and makes up and everything !!

absolutely stunned once you enter the stage w your members, dark and elegant suits on

he was sure that you told him everything mhmm

but when suddenly your members run up to you and seem to rip your clothes, he lets out a loud gasp (drawing attention from the idols nearby)

and suddenly there’s a reveal of gold shimmering dress underneath, your maknae putting a crown on your head

he’s so so confused but loves it, his inner artist is buzzing with excitement how to capture that on canvas once he’s home

and he grabs onto chan with tight grip when you hint the next album name, pointing at the crown

be ready to have a lecture ehh didn’t you spoil anything!! why he didn’t know!! and how proud he is<3

┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]

flustered babyyyyy >.<

he thought it’s a cute concept because your latest album was lovey-dovey

but his mouth falls agape as soon as a mysterious melody reaches his ears and two of your members come in, dressed head to toe in black elegant outfits

he noticed there’s a ?? small podium ?? but didn’t pay any attention to it once you joined your members on stage, also dressed in a mind-blowing dark dress with silver jewelry

you performed one of your popular songs and then three of your members had a cute solo stage, a dance break with a song from your newest album

but the music got cut and the light focused on you, smokey makeup and… fake blood on your face?

you jumped from the podium (like that one wony stage hehe) and your members formed a regular ending position with screens hinting that’s a beginning of new era

dude was speechless and for a moment forgot he’s an idol,, fanboying over his cool n badass gf ^^

(all the fansites thought its adorable meanwhile his member were giggling at him hehe)

┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]

woah there do you want him (and your fans) dead??

you haven’t spoiled anything to him and now he’s shocked, flustered, amused, amazed and all the other things at once ;; his brain is going 28202729 km per hour like!!

because goddamn you look so hot in such concept…!

and when you start rapping at your solo stage, throwing a snarky comment at mama there and here

felix is just blushing and giggling like a teenage girl,, but also he’s kind of feeling intimidated by your sudden powerful aura

not that he minds tho~

will fight the haters of ur performance if he sees any, literally defending you like a lioness defends her cubs (on anon accs tho lol)

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

to be honest your performance is the only reason why he’s at mama …

he knew how excited you were abt it, saying it’s gonna tease your next comeback

so naturally, he was intrigued

but he wasn’t expecting that

you literally owned the stage,, all of your members too ofc

but there was just something so fresh seeing you in a dark concept with smokey makeup,, kicking a prop chair and loosening your tie…

he was stunned!!!

and seungmin couldn’t help but feel the overflowing sense of pride that it’s his girl right here, catching everyone’s attention

( especially after you cursed in a part of a song that was supposed to be censored )

┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]

this man almost made you spoil the whole performance for him 😭😭

he’s just as excited as you are, buzzing with excitement

he was even squeezing chan’s hand once you entered the stage

everything was so enchanting – the rock version of your newest song, the mysterious background, dark and elegant outfits

when suddenly a backup dancer handed you a guitar

and you had an electric guitar solo, the accessories you had shimmering in the light

literally everyone was focused at you and your skills, jeongin staring in awe and mouth hanging open

( he just wanted to scream at the top of his lungs that “that’s my gf y’all!!” but sadly he couldn’t !!!? <\\3 )

after the solo you joined your members in finishing the choreography,,, he even missed the big spoiler for the next album that your main rapper did in the choreo

bc he was so so focused at you,, he could see how proud you were

and so was he!! expect a lot of kisses n praises after the performance!!

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @litepowee ,, @ocean-minho ,, @lessthanpast ,, @s-e-s-a-I-e-n-e ,, @fire-08

536 notes · View notes

mrsoharaa · 1 month ago

Text

"Oi" the sound of Barou's gruff voice stirs you from your gracious nap, fluttering your lashes slowly and lifting your heavy lids, you glance up to meet with a firmly annoyed 6'1 boyfriend standing before you snoozing on your shared couch.

"Barou? I thought you had practice today, why are you home so early?" you yawn quietly, rubbing what little disrupted sleep that had lingered in your eyes, away.

"Just finished, but what the hell is this? who the hell is that?" he sneers down at you, well, more specifically 一 down at your Geto Suguru plush comfortably hurdled up against your chest and hooked arm. You subtly follow his leering glare and giggle softly, rolling your eyes to his silly resentment (jealousy) for your plush.

"It's my plush, 'Rou, he's not doing any harm, it's my source of comfort, he's my comfort character...he helps me sleep" you imply, watching the furrowed (adorable) glare he had wavered over your snugged doll clinging to your chest. To which he sought was to be his place, and his place only.

"Helps you sleep? I'm your fucking boyfriend, hence I should be your only source of comfort, not some damn fake fictional character" he begins with twiddled jealousy lacing his steep tone.

"Which means I am the only one who gets to console you in any way" he abruptly leans forward to snatch the plush from your grasp, taking a revolting look over at the small doll before flinging it across the room.

"Hey! don't toss him like that, you jerk!" you yelp with arising anger surging through you, feeling your body being effortlessly lifted and handled in every which way before you felt the familiar heat of his larger body consume you from above. Stretched arms hastily drawing around your fidgeting body, face seeping into the open space of your comforting chest, holding you tight into his unwavering grasp.

"You don't fucking need him." he grumbles tiredly against your beating chest, saturating the relaxing warmth and delight your body radiated to him. Washing away any lingering stress from the day of relentless practicing and dealing with obnoxious pestering "donkeys" from the day.

You elicit out a hefty, agitated huff, glancing over to where he had chucked your comfort plush, gradually drifting back down to his nuzzling embrace he had warped around you.

You wanted to yell at him, swat him at the back of his arrogant, crude head 一 but with the way he was so endearingly snuggled deep against your chest, inhaling your sweet scent and drowning in your calming leisure...it was hard to ever say no to him when he became this affectionate towards you.

He must've had a long day.

You exhale a low sigh, leaning back adequately against the couch as you gingerly weave your fingers through the spiked dark tresses that crowned his head. The sounds of soft hums and grumbled "You have me's" almost makes you forget about the treasonous act he had just committed towards your Suguru plush. You glimpsed back over to where your plush had landed. drooped down against the wall, in a sad, lonesome display.

Almost.

#this is completelyyyy self indulgent lmao #(because i totally don't have a suguru plush myself...not uh not me 🤭😋🥰)#still feeling ehh about my writing rn lol #but I'm trying to back into it #rofl loveee this hot headed doofus 🥰#barou shoei x reader #barou shouei #blue lock

94 notes · View notes

the-artist-grimm · 1 month ago

Note

What doctrines did the lamb choose and have they ever sacrifice someone?

Crimson Angel AU - Doctrines, Governing, Rites, and More

This is gonna be a long one! Gonna be going over Doctrines, the way the Cult is governed, and how the Sin Rites work within the lamb, Anthea's, cult!

(since world-building is fun and I got a lot of ideas-though I apologize in advance for how much this diverts a bit from in-game/how longgggg this is lol)

Also the pretty boarders are by @/lambouillet

Doctrines

Sustenance

Ritual Feast

Grass Eater (Only relied on in emergencies once farms are set up)

Ritual of Harvest

Belief in Prohibition

Afterlife

Belief in Afterlife

Ritual of Resurrection/Funeral (Anthea has both-followers can pick what they'd prefer prior)

Respect Your Elders (especially since the elder, Nona, rules the kitchen)

Grieve the Fallen

Work and Worship

Faithful Trait

Inspire

The Glory of Construction

Holy Day

Law and Order

Ascend Follower Ritual

Wedding

Belief in Absolution

Loyalty Enforcer (Really just Anthea having someone trustworthy in charge when out crusading-if there's any issues, fights, ect. its that person's job to settle it or at least get it under control till the lamb returns. If gone for more than 3 days Anthea also has Ratau come by to assist the enforcer, though later on Narinder takes on that role)

Possessions

Extort Tithes (Funds typically are used to obtain rare goods from the market in Pilgram's Passage, such as specialty herbs for the medical tent or kitchens, metals for the smith, specialty tools, weapons to give missionaries, that sort of thing)

Belief in Materialism (Anthea has a major focus early-on on setting up more permanent settlements)

Ritual of Enrichment

Devotee Trait

Sacrifice

Sacrifice is something Anthea has only done once (technically twice as it was two people in one), but it was only as a last resort. When they and Narinder managed to figure out how to revive the twins, and realized that it was via properly breaking the spell which chained him as intended through the sacrifice of a devote heart, the lamb didn't want to go through with it as it went against their promise to protect those in their care.

Yet, unbeknownst to the two, the followers had been realizing something was amiss throughout the week the two were figuring it out. A pair of terroir twins, Poppy and Tristen, had been tasked by the others with spying on the two to find out what, then reported back to everyone what they overheard. From there they all debated on how to proceed, knowing the Lamb wouldn't pick a sacrifice on their own. Everything from finding heretics to trick into being devote to drawing straws was discussed, until two volunteers came forward.

The next day during sermon, an older couple stood and offered themselves as sacrifice, citing that as they never were able to bear children of their own, giving themselves so Aym and Baal could live would be the symbolic next best thing. And though Anthea repeatedly asked if they were certain, a week later the sacrifice went through. But ever since the lamb has had no interest in ever doing such a thing again.

Within the graveyard plot the Lamb set their own family's empty graves they placed two more for the couple, as their bodies were completely turned to ash and lost to the ritual.

Day to Day

Within the Cult it's run more-so akin to a village rather than a proper 'Cult'. Everyone has a job to help the community as a whole, from farming, to carpentry, mining, med-bay, kitchen, tailor, and so on. There is a statue for prayer in the town center, but it's typically just people stopping by to say a quick prayer before moving on with their day, rather than sitting before it for hours praying.

Anthea has little interest in actually running the cult as a proper cult, and instead prefers to have everyone work towards building a proper community and settlement instead (hence why they don't like the idea of making people sit around praying-there's far more productive uses of their skills/time). Everyone there has lost it all-their homes, their families, their old lives-they have nowhere to go, and the lamb remembers how they felt when their own village was destroyed. They want the cult to be a safe harbor for people who need a new home.

That leading to greater faith wasn't entirely Anthea's intention, but it proved to be an excellent means of naturally raising faith/loyalty to them. People are less likely to dissent if they actually feel cared for, and to live in a cult that felt like a breath of fresh air? Where a new life could be found, a new family, a new home? Followers follow the lamb because they know Anthea's someone who genuinely wants to help them, and they are a lot more understanding and cooperative during hardships because of that as well. Where the Bishops lead by fear which can break loyaltys the second someone stronger appears, Anthea leads with their heart, which creates a following willing to stand beside them.

Sermons are held in the morning just after breakfast and are rather peaceful, and while outside of Sunday none are mandatory, most still attend daily regardless. Anthea's sermon scripts draw inspiration from their collection of Death tomes that predated Narinder's imprisonment (which depicted him as a gentle god of death and sleep), their own faith in Narinder that'd been built over years of praying to him prior to becoming a vessel, and some of their own memories of loss without letting on just how much they still grieve. (like everyone knows the Lamb is the last of their kind. But they just don't really realize how much that fact still haunts them. It's just assumed 'oh they lost everything but they're ok now! Look, they're trying to make things right!' which...isn't great but the followers do realize Anthea's carrying more grief than they let on eventually).

Sermon is still attended daily by choice as it is this time where followers can sit and reflect on those they've lost, but then be comforted by the thought that someone kind was there to greet their loved ones in the end. Death is framed as less of something to fear, and more of a final rest-which when every day is uncertain with the Bishops still in control, is reassuring. Anthea's voice is also just nice to listen to, during sermons their voice softens into this gentle tone followers can find comfort in.

During Sunday post-sermon Townhall (which townhall is why it's mandatory), followers are invited to stand and report issues, request materials, give errands for the Lamb to run in the other areas of the Old Faith, and the Lamb in turn makes sure everyone's updated on the situation outside the cult. Very few are allowed to leave the grounds unless accompanied by the Lamb or deemed capable (such as former Bishop Disciples who can fight/Missionary Talisman Holders that are magically protected) due to the danger that lies beyond the holy grounds from heretics and monsters, and thus Anthea likes to try and keep everyone from wondering too much about what's going on. Ignorance doesn't equal bliss, and thus the lamb prefers keeping them in the know as opposed to letting what-ifs fester.

And so Anthea keeps track of things they come across while crusading, such as currently standing villages being reported back alongside destroyed ones, the status of the various areas (such as Darkwood's difficulty rising post-Leshy's fall) being given, new locations reported (such as the path to Smuggler's Sanctuary opening where a hidden night market offers rarer goods like books, various alcohols, and other less easily acquired goods) and letters are also passed out or given to the Lamb for delivery. Though couriers cannot easily travel due to the dangers out there, Pilgrim's Passage does hold a sort of mail house within its village, where people can drop off letters and pick up their own, allowing people keep in touch with or even invite relatives to join the cult.

(I like to image that there's more settlements than just the Lamb's Cult, the Bishops Cults, and the in-game map locations. At some point I wanna put together a post expanding each area's extra elements/new ones)

Sin Rites Alterations

After the crown informs the Lamb on the Sin Rites, Anthea is somewhat uncomfortable with much of their practices due to both its descriptions, and the various former Bishop Disciples reporting similar Rites as causing anything from violence, to havoc, to unrest, to just straight up chaos within their own cults when held. Sin Rites often cause followers to act in ways they typically would not by heightening, anger, lust, desire, or other things, and it doesn't really sit right with them to force that.

As such since Anthea prefers to maintain an order to their cult since that reinforces the follower's ease of mind/trust that they'll be safe, the rites are altered and broken down into their base sin elements so that the crown can still obtain sin, but without causing disorder/discomfort among the cultists.

(it also very much goes against Anthea's nature to do most of the rites, and would be out of character for them to even consider using them as-is, hence why I've modified them for Crimson Angel.)

🌸Spring Festival - Draws from Rite of Lust🌸

Sins: Pride, Lust

As a celebration of the coming of spring, the Spring Festival traditionally was seen as an event where people spent the day outside enjoying picnics in the nicer weather while watching the flowers blooming on trees. Now, while it still is a day for that, drawing from the fertile elements of the Rite of Lust, garlands of flowers decorate the grounds and flower crowns are woven and worn by all cultists, with it becoming a bit of a trend to try and gift your crown to someone special by the end of the night as there now includes a festival dance after sunset. People dress in flowy embroidered robes to look their best as well. Throughout the night many who are of age try to confess to the person(s) they are interested in, and as the festival does line up with a lot of cultists mating seasons, it isn’t unheard of for followers to sneak off somewhere private. Anthea does however set a hard rule on that everyone is to remain decent while in public, and that anyone caught getting handsy where they shouldn't will be punished via assisting Nona in the kitchen for a week, which the threat of having to help the old lady in the kitchen scares most into behaving.

🌞Summer Solstice - Draws from Rite of Wrath🌞

Sins: Wrath, Envy, Pride

Originally only viewed as a celebration of the longest day of the year and marked via a bonfire celebration, the Summer Solstice now includes a series of games and competitions, ranging from foot-races, to archery matches, to knucklebones, to swordsmanship, and so on with other activities. Events are at first just single, but as time goes on are later divided into Kids, Teens, and Adults sections to ensure fairness. To those who win, ribbons are presented as prizes. (so think akin to school field day or the Olympics) The elements of Wrath are transformed into a more constructive competitiveness through the events, with hints of envy naturally occurring from those who lose a match. It is, however, all just for fun at the end of the day, with the ribbons simply being little pretty things to keep as opposed to anything too special. An unintentional side-effect also means that more cultists learn how to protect themselves in preparing for competing, permitting more the ability to take on errands outside the cult over time. (which, in-turn, eases Anthea's burden of being the primary person gathering supplies)

🍂Fall Festival - Draws from Gluttony of Cannibals🍂

Sins - Gluttony

Traditionally marking the ending of the harvest season, it has few alterations. During the day everyone works to can, dry, prep, and store the harvest gathered, with the best of each crop prepared for a huge feast held in the evening to celebrate everyone’s hard work. The only addition is teams of hunters are also sent out to hunt critters (which are considered separate from the typical sentient animals) and to catch fish to bring back for the carnivores and omnivores' winter stores, which as the years go on turn from just going out on the day of, to heading out a week beforehand to return with a larger haul to dry, salt, smoke, and store. Cannibalism, is however, EXTREAMLY PROHIBITED considering how they have a perfectly good harvest.

❄️Winter Solstice - Sinners' Pride❄️

Sins - Gluttony, Greed, Sloth

Traditionally marking the shortest day of the year, it is the only festival without any alterations due to the nature of the existing traditions lining up right. All cultists are given the day off from work, allowing everyone to trade gifts and spend the day with their families, to go out into the snow, and to see the stars and northern lights as a bonfire burns in the cult’s center, which for three days after there is still no work to allow everyone rest, as it’s also one of the coldest times of year. Trees are often decorated with candles, ornaments, and other pretty things, wreaths are hung, mistletoe hidden in the worst places just to catch others off guard, people make baked goods, ect-so think Christmas but leaning more into its Pagan origins.

🎃Bonus! Blood Moon Festival🎃

Works like in-game and occurs during a Blood Moon. Spirits appear around the cult-grounds that need to be taken care of by disciples and the Lamb, with costumes bring worn by all to help in scaring the ghosts off. As children start to be born into the Cult, they also begin a tradition of going door to door for candy to keep the kiddos busy and away from the darker areas ghosts tend to lurk in, and there's a festival with various games like pumpkin carving, apple bobbing, darts, a bonfire, and spooky story-time with Mx. Shamura in the town square. So basically Halloween.

Phew that was a lot of lore lol, but I wanted to also take the chance to explain how the Cult runs! A lot different from in-game, but again it just feels more in character for Anthea to run the cult as less than well, a cult, and more of a village.

Back when their own village was still around their family did play a huge role in it-their father Aries was the supply runner, with Anthea taking over his role once he died. That meant the lamb got used to speaking to the village leader and other elders in higher roles, so that's kinda what they're working off of. Had their village persisted, Anthea might've even joined the ranks of leadership in the village, at least in possibly training more supply runners and leading them on trips.

A thousand years plus of the Bishops rule which especially worsened post-Narinder's imprisonment also had a great deal of followers done with the traditional 'cult' life. The closest thing to typical 'cult' traditions is donning specific robes for rituals or everyone having something red on their person whether it be their main garment or an accessory, but even then the robes are because it's tradition (think wearing your Sunday best) and the red is more of a personal preference cultists have out of a desire to match their leader's cloak.

#crimson angel au #cotl #cult of the lamb #writing #writing ideas #cult of the lamb au #cotl au #my writing #crimson angel au lore

74 notes · View notes

boozenboze · 1 year ago

Text

That Fuckin Rat

Tf!141 x Fydor Dostoyevsky M!reader

Summary: It’s hard to believe that Makarov isn’t the main one behind the attacks, and that he had a little friend who had plenty of tricks up his sleeve’s.

Females DNI

Terrorists, we all hate them. Reasons all being obvious. Some were too sneaky, smart, and overall just a pain to society. Makarov was one of them, the man’s name being heard plenty times before. He was smug, extremely condescending, and practically unreadable. It had taken years for military to actually keep up with his antics.

Though of course, there is always someone else helping behind the scenes of someones dirty work. His name wasn’t known, hell there was barely any information on the man at all. What was known, was that he was assisting Makarov with his plans, though his motives were unclear.

______

It was a peaceful day on the streets of Chicago. People going out for a run, getting ready for work, kids going to school. Just usual things that you’d see on a week day. A man was sitting inside, legs crossed as he sat with his hands in his lap. He wore a white button up shirt, white pants, and ushanka hat. A waiter brought some tea to his table, her eyes having been locked on him since he’d walk in.

He was clearly a looker, from his natural facial features to his style. It all looked and gave distinguished gentleman. His eyes were slightly droopy, making him look tired, but the small smile he had on his face sad otherwise.

He nodded at the waiter, silent thanks as he took the cup in his hand, eyes closing. As he took a sip, another woman entered the establishment. She was older, wearing a blue button up shirt with a white jacket. Her dirty blonde hair brought up into a bun giving her a clean, professional look. She sat at a table near the Russian man, setting her computer down and typing something before calling a waiter over.

The man glanced over at the new customer in the establishment, humming before setting his tea back on the table. Due to his hair, the people around him would automatically miss the earpiece he had in his left ear. He spoke very lowly, so his words weren’t audible. Though as soon as he stood up he was met with a hand grabbing his arm, forcing him to sit back down.

His eyes widened, looking over to so a man. He was clearly older, hence the beard and more gruff appearance. His eyes were blue, and he wore a beanie atop his head.

“Excuse me, may I hel-”

“Close your mouth, listen closely.” The man spoke gruffly, hand still gripping the slimmer mans arm. “Your gonna exit out the back door, don’t draw attention to yourself. We don’t need things getting bloody, not here.”

There was a brief moment of silence before the s/c skinned male replied.

“And why would I, comply to such a request… hm?” The male questioned, looking down to see the mans other hand, that wielded a pistol. The h/c haired males facial expression held one of calmness with a mix of annoyance. He shifted his gaze to another table, noticing how a darker skinned male was eyeing him down, he squinted for a moment before looking forward again, sighing. He smiled, chuckling slightly, though there was no humor behind it.

“Ok…lets go.”

—————

Being dragged into the alleyway between two buildings wasn’t part if the plan, but here he was.

“I see you got him.” A woman, the same woman with the dirty blonde hair said as she followed out the door. The darker skinned man spoke up, looking back at her, hand’s keeping the Russian man from trying anything. The e/c eyed male had his head slumped downwards, eyes locked on the concrete beneath him.

“Getting closer our goal aren’t we Laswell.” The dark skinned male said, looking at the woman. He pulled the h/c haired male by the arms, making the males back bump into him with a light thud.

The woman, now identified as Laswell hummed. “This is part of it, though it’s quite obvious that we’d need more than just..” Laswell stopped talking, looking at the h/c haired male who hadn’t said a word since they exited the establishment. Another individual, with a mohawk was glaring at the man now in their custody, as well as another large man who was in the dark corner of the alley.

There wasn’t any struggle to put the man into the vehicle that the 5 peple had arrived in. He was seated in the back seat in the middle, now being trapped between the dark skinned male and the man with the mohawk. The woman sat in the passenger seat, while the older man sat in the drivers seat. The large man with the skull mask, sat in the very back of the vehicle, silent, though his presence was known.

They pulled out of the alleyway, the vehicle now going onto the road. After just listening to the 5 individuals address and converse with one another, it was clear that he’d just been taken by Military. He found it very odd that they found him in such a place at such time. He was always extremely careful when he made arrangements for…shipments, though he supposed anything was possible.

“So…would you mind telling me how you all found me?” The h/c haired male questioned, keeping his haze ahead. There was no response, only the sound of the engine revving being heard. The male scoffed, rolling his eyes before muttering “rude”.

——Timeskip——

Cuffed by the wrists and ankles on a chair in an interrogation room wasn’t something M/n was planning on.

What a pity, fools did all this just to catch little ol’ me? I must say I’m flattered. M/n thought to himself, sly grin creeping onto his face as he threw his head back and chuckled.

“Hello~ anyone there? You’re not the only ones who have plans ya know!~” m/n called out, not getting a response due to him being the only one in the room….Well, not exactly, if you count the cameras that the 141 was watching him from.

————

“So, who wants to give it a try.” Price spoke, his response being silence from the other 3 men. Gaz looked to the side awkwardly, Soap whistling in attempts to seem like he wasn’t listening, and Ghost was standing in the corner of the room, arms crossed. He looked annoyed, possibly because of the current situation. The man’s voice irked him, and not in a good way.

This man had assisted Makarov…only God knows how many times throughout the years, and now he’s here. Something was wrong though. They caught him too easily, and the way he just cooperated didn’t really sit right.

They’ve heard the rumors that had circulated around him, one person describing him to be soulless. Like a vampire, which is one spot on comparison since he looks like one. The look in his eyes had anything but genuine emotion, more malice then anything.

Ghost had seen it all, quite literally during his time on the field. He had no tolerance for slackers and cockiness, and when things needed to get done, they were sure as hell gon done with him. So as he emerged from the darkness of the corner he was in, attention being drawn to him due to the slight ruffling noise of him moving.

“I’ll handle this.” Ghost spoke, voice rough with his Manchester accent being firm. Seems like the lieutenant wants to get this over with as soon as possible, as he left the room. As the door shut behind him, Price smirked and shook his head in amusement.

“Don’t think LT’s gonna blow the guys head off eh?” Soap asked jokingly, not completely forgetting whom they were dealing with.

“Think you mean the other way around.” Gaz replied, looking at the security cameras, seeing the door open to the room their capture was in.

————

M/n looked towards the door, eyebrows raised as he watched Ghost enter the room. His larger figure towering over him in an intimidating manner. Despite this, M/n wasn’t nervous at all. Instead, a cocky grin came upon his features.

“Well this should be interesting.” M/n spoke, tilting his head to the left, hat following in suit as Ghost sat in the chair across from him.

The bigger man crosses his arms, glaring at the man who seemed completely unfazed by his appeal. Ghost was intrigued, sitting back before speaking up.

“Let’s make this quick, you’re working with Makarov and you’ve been supplying him with explosives.” Ghost spoke firmly, voice being the loudest thing in the room besides their breathing.

M/n smirked, looking at Ghost with mischief within his e/c eyes.

“Indeed I have.” M/n spoke, shifting in his chair to sit up straight. “I must say i’m quite impressed that you sll were able to catch me.”

M/n stared right into Ghosts skull, eyes practically stabbing into his entire being. Ghost didn’t falter, reciprocating the stare behind his mask.

“So, do you all plan on keeping me here or-”

“Makarov’s planning an attack somewhere, but we haven’t been able to get a lead on where.” Ghost said, cutting him off quickly. “You work with him, your his supplier, therefore you know where he is.”

Ghost spoke sternly, staring M/n down with a cold and empty look. M/n hummed, chuckling and throwing his head back before looking down into his lap.

“I do, but I have no intention to tell you.” M/n stated, Russian accent making his voice sound oddly mesmerizing. Sexy if anything.

Ghost stared at him, a few minutes of silence going by before he stood up and walked over to M/n. He stood above him, looking down at the restraint man before wrapping his hand around his neck. The s/c skinned male let out a groan, feeling the hand tighten around his neck. He let out an airish chuckle, glaring up at Ghost who glared back.

The male took in a large amount of air when he was released, clearing his throat before speaking up.

“Well that isn’t very polite now isn’t it?” M/n spoke, looking up at Ghost with slightly hooded eyes. “Alright, I’ll tell you what you want.”

M/n rose his hands in defeat, cuffs making a slight clinking sound when he did. Ghost hummed, going back to sit in his chair.

“If you’re gonna talk, do it now.” Ghost said, being completely serious with his words, belligerence underneath his current calm demeanor.

M/n grinned, fixing his position in his chair.

“Makarov is actually planning on attacking close by.” M/n said, looking Ghost in the eye. He didn’t miss how Ghost’s eyes widened, brown irises holding shock.

“You pulling my leg?” Ghost questioned, sitting up. His demeanor changed dramatically, a sense of urgency now in his actions. M/n gave him a blank face, tilting his head before smiling.

“Yeah, besides its not like you’d be able to find him anyway.” M/n said cockily, giving a mischievous smirk. “You soldiers are too easy to get over on, and the only reason you believed me is because I’m hot and have Russian accent.”

Ghost felt like he was seething now, glaring at M/n before standing up.

“Fucking rat.”

Ghost spat before leaving the room. This wasn’t like him, but something about M/n really got under his skin.

A/n: this was lowkey rushed, and I have some editing to do 😅

#gay #male y/n #cod x male reader #gaz x male reader #lgbtq #mw2 x male reader #captain price x male reader #male reader #soap x male reader #ghost x male reader

402 notes · View notes

writingmeraki · 2 years ago

Text

i heart u !

a min ho drabble !

genre : fluff. ( disgustingly cute )

pairing : minho x gn!reader, established relationship.

warnings : none except Minho is a menace but he's your menace :D ( not edited or proofread. )

author's note : this was a pretty random idea I got 😭 but also a little gift as a celebration to xo kitty getting a season 2 !!!! 🥳 ( praying for more minho screen time but also dae my boy deserving better :( confused on yuri & kitty endgame 🤞or minho & kitty ) anyways enjoy this minho brainrot i offer u and let me know what you think !!! let's also ignore the quality of the minho pics thanks xx also this is my third time trying to upload this i will cri if this doesn't upload now

word count : 1.1k

It'd been exactly two hours, twenty seven minutes and four seconds, five seconds, six seconds…

"You know I can feel your eyes burning into my face."

Putting down your biology textbook aside for a minute before you turned to face the one who’d been looking at you as though you’d disappear at any given moment.

Minho stared at you, now narrowing his eyes as he scoffed lightly,

"I'm not staring."

You deadpanned him as you raised an eyebrow.

"Okay then, do what you called me here to do. Study."

You nonchalantly said, ignoring the slight pout forming on your boyfriend's face because today you definitely didn't need to waste any time.

"Oh come onnnn it's been almost 3 hours!"

He said in a whiny tone that even if you didn't want to, made you bite your inner cheek to prevent yourself from grinning.

You wouldn't think he would complain about not getting attention because he didn't ever have to actually. If he wanted it, he'd get it unasked, be it from your friends or you.

But lately, both Q and Dae had been busy with their own studies, hence that also meant spending less time with their other best friend.

And as for you, you weren't one to deny your oh so lovely boyfriend of attention, in fact you'd welcome him with open arms when he would suddenly hug you tightly or when he'd kiss you at any given moment.

Unfortunately for him, you'd also been busy with your own studies, having to work a bit harder since you struggled in a few subjects.

Still, you paid no mind as you continued to read over the text about chromosomal disorders even if you could see from the corner of your eye that Minho had moved closer to you.

You had both decided to study together, having done your studying alone in your dorm but on his insistence to study together, you agreed to come over to his place, currently sitting at his desk with all your necessary items laid out.

"Why do you even need to continue studying when you have the most handsome, amazing, fantastic and bloody hot guy right by your side?"

Snorting at him, you turned your gaze to look at him from the corner of your eye,

"Please, I'd never say bloody hot, that is such a…British thing to say."

"So you do admit everything else is right?"

He smugly said as he smirked at you.

"I don't have time to feed your ego, I'm busy."

Sighing, you turned away from him as you now moved your chair to have your back facing him.

If you could have been able to see his expression, you'd probably have laughed because he just puffed and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. He felt even more frustrated because frankly he was tired of studying now.

Suddenly he got an idea that he knew would make you give in to him and as much as he found your current ignorance appealing, he'd never admit that to you, he wanted your attention then and there, and with him.

Scribbling on a piece of paper, a cheesy equation he'd found on instagram while scrolling on his explore page, yet he knew you'd find it adorable.

9x - 7i > 3 ( 3x - 7u )

9x - 7i > 9x - 21u

-7i > - 21u

i <3 u.

Lastly, finishing it off by drawing a small heart and adding a " ;) " at the end.

He folded the paper and quietly moved behind you, putting his hand above your head and slipping the note on the page you were reading.

Your gaze shifted to the sudden movement, curiously eyeing the note that was laid in front of you.

Putting your book on your lap, you opened the note with a little suspicion, Minho's face having a small grin upon successfully diverting your attention.

The second you opened the note, you read over the contents still keeping a straight face up until you saw the small "i <3 u” with a little winky face.

Snorting at the cheesiness of the note with an equation you were pretty sure you’d seen saved one of your plenty Pinterest boards,

“Love, we don’t even have a maths exam next, we have biology.”

Turning your chair you faced him, you bit your lower lip to prevent the grin from showing on your face.

It was Minho’s turn to now deadpan you,

“Even after I wrote such a…such a meaningful message portraying my true feelings, yet you’re still worried about studying when it’s almost been three hours already and you’re not even paying attention to me or what I want to say.”

“Babe I’m pretty sure I already saw this on Pinterest...and not to mention this is just 8th grade algebra.”

He glared at your words after his overdramatic speech to which you couldn’t help but burst out in giggles, he seemed like an angry little puppy when he glared at you like that.

“Okay okay fine, what do you want to do? I should take a study break anyways”

You asked putting aside the book, making sure to carefully place the note between the pages acting as a bookmark you’d always cherish.

With those words, it was as if a switch was flipped on his attitude and his eyes lit up as he grinned,excited to finally have your attention.

“So what I'm saying is we should…”

[ A few hours later, still, your “fifteen-minute break from studying suddenly extended to hours, as usual. ]

Laying on Minho’s bed, you’d both finished watching the final episode of a show that you binged on together, the laptop going into sleep mode since having been ditched after a while.

Minho laid down with his head in your lap, you sitting upright as you caressed his hair, something you loved to do and well who was Minho do deny his lover's affection when he admittedly loved it just as much, maybe even more.

"You know, I know I say you should be lucky to have me but honestly I got lucky having you."

He said randomly while looking at you, a gentle smile on his face and gaze shining with sincerity.

Even if it was quite a simple sentence, your heart still fluttered at the sincere tone and you too now had a small grin forming.

You hummed, now smiling at him, nodding as you pushed your fingers through his hair strands, gently patting them down as well.

"I meant it though. What I wrote in that…note." He said grinning up at you.

"Though I'm sad you didn't take me seriously at first." He slightly pouted to which you giggled at how offended his tone was.

"That's because you're an absolute idiot." You told biting your lip and just as he was about to protest, you leaned down and pecked his lips to shut him up, smiling at the way he complied so easily to you.

Moving back a bit, you whispered so tenderly as if the words should only be between you two.

"But you're still my idiot and I love you too."

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

links : main navi !

#xo kitty #xo kitty fanfic #xo kitty min ho #xo kitty minho #min ho x reader #min ho fluff #min ho drabbles #xo kitty min ho x reader #x female reader #x male reader #x gender neutral reader #to all the boys ive loved before #to all the boys trilogy #netflix #netflix x reader #xo kitty season 2 #lee sang heon #sang heon lee #[ pri works ]

794 notes · View notes

marvelfanfn2187a113 · 1 year ago

Text

Not You

Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: A few times your big brother Dean scares you.

Your big brother Dean would do anything for you, you knew that. He’d practically raised you, taking care of you when John wasn’t able to. He loved you and Sam more than anything, and you felt the same way about him.

But that didn’t change the fact that sometimes, Dean scared you.

…

You were hunkered down in the back of the Impala while Sam and Dean yelled at each other outside about their new buddy, Gordon.

You didn’t like Gordon, he freaked you out. And while Dean seemed to trust him completely, Sam was more on your side; hence their argument.

You couldn’t hear what they were saying, and you honestly didn’t care that much. That is, until Dean reared back his fist and punched Sam square in the face.

You scrambled to get out of the car before you noticed that Sam didn’t try to reciprocate. They exchanged a few more heated words before finally heading towards the Impala.

You were quiet that night, even after the vampires and Gordon had been taken care of. Your mind replayed the image of Dean punching your brother over and over again.

You felt ridiculous, lingering over something that even Sam seemed to have forgotten. But you couldn’t help but imagine that kind of anger directed at you. If he hit Sam—the brother that had been inseparable to him since basically birth—what did that mean for the others around him?

“Hey kid,” Dean’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. “I’m going for a supply run, wanna come with?”

“N-no I’m good,” you cursed the stutter that came out and forced yourself to calm down. You were only freaked because you’d been thinking about the punch, not because you were actually scared of Dean…

Right?

Your thoughts had once again distracted you, so when Dean made his next move you did something unexpected.

Dean raised a hand to run it through his hair, and your body reacted instinctively, following your current state of mind. You visibly flinched back, away from Dean, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Both Dean and Sam—who had looked up to watch the exchange at the wrong moment—noticed your reaction, and they responded in very different ways.

Dean seemed to freeze, his brows drawing together. Sam on the other hand reacted immediately, standing and taking Baby’s keys from Dean’s hand.

“Actually, I’ll go on the supply run. I need some air anyway, you two hang out here.”

He was gone before either sibling could protest.

The silence stretched on for several long minutes before you realized the problem. You were waiting for Dean to bring up what had happened, and he was waiting for you to bring it up. Considering how stubborn you both were, this could go on forever, so you decided to speak first.

“Why did you hit Sam?”

“Is that why you…” you dropped your gaze to your hands when Dean trailed off. “Hey,” he knelt beside the bed you were sitting on, his face flooding your vision. “C’mon, use your words.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you do that,” Dean demanded, his hand coming up to your shoulder. “Don’t be scared of me, not you. Not ever, I-I can’t…” Dean swallowed. “Don’t you ever be scared of me. I would never hurt you.”

“You hit Sam,” you argued.

“Sam’s different,” he insisted.

“Why?”

“Well for one, Sam’s not a kid, ok? He’s bigger than me, he can take a hit.”

When you didn’t respond, he sighed.

“Look, I shouldn’t have hit Sam, ok? But things are going on right now, things I’d rather not explain. But I promise you, I’m never gonna hurt you. Can you just trust me on that?”

“Ok,” you muttered. I can do that.”

…

You were huddled on Bobby’s couch, your knees curled up to your chest as you pretended not to hear the sounds coming from downstairs.

Your big brothers had caught a demon that could lead them to Crowley, and unfortunately he didn’t feel like talking.

Dean had managed to get a few words out of the guy, so Sam and Bobby were following up on that lead, but it wasn’t enough.

You were so wound up that when your phone rang you nearly fell off the couch. You answered when you saw Sam’s name on the screen.

“Did you find anything?”

“Not quite,” Sam sighed. “I need to talk to Dean, but he left his phone here in the Impala. Can you get him?”

“You-you want me to…” you swallowed down the protest that you desperately wanted to make. “Um, ok, I’ll-I’ll go get him.”

You put Sam on mute as you padded down the stairs towards the sound of the demon screaming.

You hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, your body unwilling to move forwards. Frozen to the spot, you were forced to take in the scene in front of you. Dean, a knife glinting in his hands, had blood running down his arms and splattered on his shirt.

The demon was strapped down to a chair on top of a devil’s trap, bleeding from various cuts, his face steaming from the holy water Dean had just dumped on him.

But worse than the gruesome scene in front of you was the twisted smirk on Dean’s face as he splashed holy water onto his knife and sliced into the demon’s arm, causing more screaming. As soon as the screams died down, you were about to make your presence known when the demon suddenly caught sight of you. His wicked grin alerted Dean, and he turned to see what the demon was looking at.

Your breath caught in your throat as you took an unconscious step back. Upon seeing you, Dean’s features softened almost instantly, but that didn’t take away what you’d seen. His mouth was still twisted in that awful grin, and to have it directed at you was even worse. The scariest thing though, was his eyes. They weren’t angry, which would’ve been scary enough.

There was a cool, harsh indifference in his eyes, as though he could just as easily shake your hand as cut off your head.

But when he saw you, a light seemed to enter his eyes, and the smirk dropped, but the ghost of those twisted featured lingered.

“You shouldn’t be down here,” Dean muttered as he stepped close to you.

“Sa-Sammy called,” you mumbled nervously, holding up the phone.

Dean snatched up a wet rag from a metal table next to him, wiping some of the blood off his hands and taking your phone, but not before noticing how your outstretched hand was shaking. He followed your gaze to the demon behind him, who was watching your exchange with that awful grin on his face. When Dean turned back to you, though, he saw that you were now looking at him.

He couldn’t decide whether the terror in your eyes was because of him, or the demon.

Dean leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Go back upstairs.”

You gripped onto his arm, trying desperately to find comfort in the familiar gesture.

When he pulled away, you looked up into his eyes, trying to erase the memory of what you’d seen there.

“Don’t,” you were surprised at the strain in Dean’s voice. “Don’t look at me like that. Not you.”

You didn’t have to ask what he meant. You lurched forward suddenly, wrapping your arms around your big brother, ignoring the blood on his jacket. He reciprocated, and the feeling of his strong arms around you abated your fear. It didn’t matter what he’d done to that demon, Dean was still just Dean.

Dean was safe.

…

“Alright, I’m gonna go in. You wait here.”

“Are you insane?” You scoffed as Sam stepped out of the car. “It’s Dean, I’m coming.”

“We don’t know what he is right now, so no, you’re not.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You saw the black eyes, Y/N. It’s not just Dean anymore. Now I mean it, stay in the car, I’ll be out with him soon.”

As Sam closed his door and walked into the bar, you reached down to unbuckle your seat belt.

“If you wanted me to stay away, you should’ve left me at the bunker.”

…

You couldn’t help it. When you saw Dean for the first time in months, your body grew a mind of its own.

“Dean!” Your features lifted in a grin as you rushed towards your big brother. All the air left your body in a huff when Sam’s arm shot out to stop you, wrapping around your waist.

“What’s the matter, Sammy?” Dean smirked. “Don’t trust me?”

That was when you really took in the scene. Dean looked…different. Like, not Dean. It wasn’t the same as when you’d seen him torturing that demon, it wasn’t just a coldness or a harshness, it was a different person.

But what stood out to you more was Sam. His arm was tight around you, before he maneuvered you behind him. His whole body was between you and Dean, one hand on your arm to be sure you were there, and the other just slightly jutting out in front of him. You knew that stance well; it was his Protective Mode, for whenever he thought there was an imminent, real danger.

And he was using it to keep you away from Dean. That scared you more than anything.

“Go back outside,” Sam ignored Dean’s remark, speaking to you but not taking his eyes off Dean.

“You shouldn’t have brought her here, Sammy,” Dean scoffed. “You know she can never resist her favorite big brother. Even when she was scared of me, she always liked me better than you.”

“Dean stop it,” you stepped around Sam, but he grabbed your arms and held you back.

“Y/N go outside,” Sam grunted.

“Dean, just come home with us,” you stopped fighting Sam, but kept your gaze on Dean.

“My home isn’t with you anymore, baby,” you nearly cringed when Dean’s favorite nickname for you came out in a way that was so obviously not Dean. “Now listen to Sammy so the grown ups can talk.”

“Dean-“

“Hey,” you were suddenly jerked around as Sam twisted you to face him. “I need you to go.”

Nothing less than the absolute terror on Sam’s face would’ve made you relent, but relent you did.

…

“I want you to stay out of there until this is over,” Sam stared you down.

“Is it that bad?”

“We’re gonna fix it, ok?” Sam sighed. “We’ve got the blood and everything, I just need you to stay away from him until it’s done.”

You nodded up at him, and he disappeared into the bunker’s dungeon.

With nothing to do, you found yourself wandering into Dean’s bedroom. You’d been doing that a lot since he’d left, finding the space comforting, as it was so very Dean.

However today was not a day that you would find comfort here. You’d been waiting in there for only an hour or so when you heard it. Or rather, him.

“Come on, Sammy! Don’t you wanna see your big brother?”

Your blood ran cold as you heard Dean’s not-so-subtle approach come closer and closer to you. What was he doing?

You didn’t have much time to wonder, because the footsteps echoing through the hall suddenly stopped outside your door.

What was he doing? If he didn’t want to be here, why didn’t he just leave?

You shouldn’t have stopped to wonder, but you’d promised yourself a long time ago that you’d always trust Dean, so the possibilities of what he really wanted hadn’t even crossed your mind when the door suddenly flew open.

Dean stood there, a hammer gripped in his hand as he stepped inside his old room.

“Hey little sister,” a sickening smirk spread across his face. “I was expecting Sammy, but I suppose I can take care of you first.”

Before you knew what was happening, you were flat on your back, the flat top of the hammer pressed against your throat.

You gasped for a breath, and were horrified when no air came through.

“St-st-st-“ it was no use, you couldn’t speak.

“What was that?” Suddenly the pressure on your neck lessened, but the hammer still was still touching your neck, like some kind of sick reminder that he could cut your air off again at any time.

“If you wanna leave, just leave,” you whimpered.

“Oh baby, I don’t wanna leave. Not yet. See, after what he tried to do to me, Sam’s as good as dead. But first, I’m gonna show him exactly where pissing me off gets him.”

“M-meaning?” You weren’t sure you wanted to know.

“Meaning you’re going first. But before that, you’re gonna get Sammy over here so he can watch.”

Your eyes drifted to your pocket where your phone was.

“Oh no baby, you won’t need that to get him here,” Dean leaned back, lifting the hammer.

“De-“ your plea broke off in a shriek when the blunt object slammed down on your hand. White hot pain shot up you arm, and the edges of your vision started to go fuzzy, black tinging the corners.

“Hey!” A harsh slap across your face brought focus back to your eyes. “Don’t you pass out on me baby, I want Sam to hear you scream.”

“Please,” you sobbed. “Dean, don’t do this to me. Not you. Don’t you do this. Not you, please!”

“Dean!”

“Hey Sammy,” Dean didn’t even turn around at the sound of Sam’s voice.

“Dean, get away from her,” you craned your neck to see Sam standing in the doorway, the demon blade clutched in his hand.

“Or what? You gonna kill me, Sammy?” Dean kept his eyes on you as he spoke to Sam, a cocky grin splitting his face. “I don’t think you have it in you.”

Sam took a half step forwards, but stopped when Dean raised the hammer, barely sparing a glance at Sam

“Uh-uh. I can bring this down on her skull faster than you can reach me, and you know I will.”

“Ok, ok,” Sam lowered the knife as he sidestepped further into the room and into Dean’s line of sight. “Just let her go man. This is between you and me.”

“I don’t think so, Sammy. You brought her into this, and now I want you to watch her die.”

“Dean,” you grabbed onto Dean’s arm, once again gaining his attention. “Dean you don’t have to do this. Come on, it’s me, you-you can’t…” you shake your head. “Th-this isn’t you, you wouldn’t do this.”

“Oh baby it is me,” you whimpered as Dean leaned down to whisper in your ear. “And you should’ve stayed scared of me.”

Dean twisted the hammer in his hand, raising it up for the fatal blow.

You closed your eyes, blocking out the vision of Dean’s pit-black eyes as you waited for the blow.

You kept your eyes closed until you heard Dean cry out, and suddenly his weight was lifted off you. You looked up to see Castiel dragging Dean back, who was fighting tooth-and-nail, a horrible screeching-like scream coming from him.

“It’s over,” Castiel grunted. “It’s over.”

…

Once Dean was secured back in the dungeon, Castiel healed your broken hand before going to help Sam in curing Dean.

As soon as he was clean and out of the dungeon, you didn’t waste a second, running into his waiting arms.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he breathed.

“It’s ok, Dean.”

“No, no it’s not,” he insisted, pulling away. “It’s…it was…” Dean lowered his gaze, unable to look you in the eye.

Not having it, you ducked your head lower so that your face flooded his vision, and he finally met your gaze again.

“Not you. It was not you.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean and sam #dean winchester x you #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #supernatural dean #the winchesters #winchesters x reader #winchesters x sister #the winchester brothers #sam winchester x you #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister #spn sam winchester #sam winchester x sister!reader

963 notes · View notes

captn-trex · 3 months ago

Text

my kingdom for a kiss

Fives x F!Reader / Jedi!Reader

word count: 8.7k

description: yours and fives' friendship has never been easy for you to navigate, but after a particularly painful mission throws your faith into question, you need comforting more than ever

content warnings: NSFW 18+ angst, emotional hurt/comfort sorta, unestablished relationship, forbidden relationship, oral (f!recieving), pinv sex, talk of the jedi order, mutual pining, kinda dramatic admitting feelings, basically fives and reader being atrociously down bad for each other. the smut is kinda vague tbh

a/n: fives is a pathetic male yearner. that's my headcanon. hence why the title is a jeff buckley lyric lol. also i'm still not super confident writing smut so just don't perceive me okay? cool, thanks. this might be my favourite thing I've written???

masterlist | join my taglist | read on ao3

You had never been one to enjoy a battle as it was, but this one was really testing you.

A significant amount of your men had already been lost, and it was getting harder to push it from your mind. You stood your ground nonetheless, your lightsaber whirring in front of you, a blue shield that redirected the blaster bolts gunning for the men that still remained.

Your breath was heavy, ripping from you at a pace you could only beg the maker to allow you to keep. Your body was tired, but you kept your mind focused, tuned into your surroundings. You could only call on the force to aid you so much as you stayed resistant to you body��s pleas for rest, and so you pushed on, pursuing the enemy's left flank. A familiar shiver ran up your spine, and you whirled around, your eyes laying upon the unfolding scene that the force was warning you of.

“Captain, watch out!” you called, sprinting in his direction, praying that you could get to him before the incoming commando droid made its attack.

Right before you reached his position, another commando leapt at you, drawing your focus. You made short work of it, slicing the arm that reached towards you before cutting a clean line through their middle. However, when you turned around, the other commando had clearly marked you as the more immediate threat, and you received a strong blow to your nose.

You stumbled backwards from the impact, and though the pain wasn’t unbearable, tears filled your vision by way of simple biological response. The droid landed a forceful hit to your side before you realised that relying on your eyes was a hopeless pursuit. You instead placed your trust in the force, squeezing your eyes shut. You rolled forwards, the rough terrain biting into your robes, and turned back to face the droid, bringing the blade of your lightsaber up through the centre of it.

“Thank you General!” Rex shouted over the soundscape of the battle, “Are you alright?”

“I will be once—” you interrupted yourself with a sharp cough, “once we push these kriffing clankers—”

“General! Are you okay?”

Your vision was only just becoming clear again, but you didn’t need to see to recognise who was speaking to you.

“Yes Fives, I’m fine” you huffed as you blinked away your tears. Your eyes found the clone in question who looked visibly worried about you, his helmet clutched in his hand.

“Are you injured?” he asked hurriedly, ushering you behind some cover as a blaster bolt whizzed past, dangerously close to your cheek.

“No” you replied, the lie slipping from your tongue easily, “but this isn’t working. I think it might be time to start getting creative”

The corners of his lips lifted at that.

“Got it General” he gave you a small salute, slipping his helmet back over his head, “See you on the other side”

You watched him rush back into the battle, unable to contain the fond smile that broke out on your face. When you tried to re-join the battle yourself, the left side of your abdomen cried out, stopping you in your tracks. It didn’t feel like anything was broken, but the commando droid had dealt you a nasty blow, and it was certain to be a painful bruise at the very least.

You quieted your mind, bringing your focus back to what was important as you stepped out from the cover. The war, the battle, victory.

When did you begin to care about such things?

Stepping off the gunship and aboard the Resolute, you fought to keep a heaving sigh from escaping your lips. Your face was the picture of stoicism, your mouth set in a hard line for fear that your emotions could bubble up and pour out of you at any second. This mission had well and truly pushed you to the limit.

You were ushered into a mission debrief immediately, though you were far from engaged. Your frown was evident to everyone around you, a deep crease set in your brow that anyone else would have thought was a scowl. The clones of the 501st knew better. You lost a lot of good men today. It was hard not to see it as a personal failure when they were placed under your command, but either way, the loss weighed heavily on your mind.

You started making your way back to your quarters after the debrief, though quickly found yourself just ambling about the ship, little care for where you were going.

Your mind was a mess.

You couldn't help but feel disillusioned by the whole ordeal. Talking with the other generals about the battle you had just been in, about the clones you lost, as if it were a necessary price to pay. You believed the teachings of the jedi, you believed they meant to do good, but for too long you had been nothing more than a soldier, a pawn in a game with no end in sight, and a meaning which still eluded you.

You couldn't begin to imagine how the clones felt about it all. They were made for this purpose, unlike you, but that was certainly more horrifying to think about. You were closer with your men than some of the other generals, and it sometimes felt like they were the only people you could truly trust. They were loyal, almost to a fault, and you made sure they knew how you felt about their place in everything. It had been hard going trying to convince some of them that they were worth the risk of protecting on the battlefield.

Though you tried to instil in all of them a sense of self worth, there were still those you were closer to than others. You were most familiar with Rex, given that he was your Captain, and you had spent a lot of downtime with Tup and Dogma as well.

And then there was Fives.

Something about your relationship with Fives had always felt different. From the first meeting, it had felt like there was something pulling you towards him, something you didn't want to acknowledge. You were eternally fascinated by his mind, his benevolence, and he had an irresistible charm to him that manifested in everything he did. Internally, you fought tooth and nail to let your mind be still around him, tune out the feelings he gave you, but it never seemed to quite work.

You knew you shouldn't be harbouring such feelings as a jedi, but you figured that maybe it wouldn't be a problem at all if you just ignored them. Safe to say, it didn't work.

It was a fool's errand really, there was no point in indulging in how you felt about him, but you did anyway. He made it difficult not to. The way he looked at you set your insides alive in a way that just hadn't happened with anyone else before. You couldn't help but dwell on what it would be like to forget all about your vows to the jedi order, and satiate your apparent need for him.

Though, you could at least have him to thank for keeping you in check at the very least. He refused to call you by your name, your rank being the more preferable nickname, and he was courteous to an almost ridiculous level. He walked the line between dutiful trooper and good friend masterfully, and you had to applaud his professionalism.

You didn't fully realise where your feet had taken you until you were standing in the doorway of the barracks, the clones inside turning to look at you.

“General” Jesse grinned up at you, “Come and join the game!”

You smiled weakly at him as you stepped into the room, “not really in the mood Jesse”

“Come on” he dragged out the syllables in a mockingly whiny tone, “we all know you're the best at Sabacc”

You huffed a short laugh, “I still maintain that you're all just really bad”

“Well then feast your eyes” he spread his arms, knocking Hardcase from his seat in the process.

You shook your head with a chuckle as the pair began playfully arguing, casting a glance around the room. You realised even before you'd taken a proper look that the one you really wanted to talk to wasn't there, the usual pull not drawing your attention.

“Dogma” you placed your hand on his shoulder, the only clone that wasn't partaking in the game of Sabacc in some manner, “where are Tup and Fives?”

Dogma looked up at you, brows drawn together slightly as if in confusion. “Fives was injured, Tup took him to the medbay when we got back” he informed you, noting your growing stress immediately, “I'm sorry General, I thought you knew”

“Don't be sorry Dogma, thank you for letting me know”

You sped out of the barracks before you could even hear the clone's reply, walking with haste in the direction of the injured trooper.

You tried to keep your worries at bay, but the growing sense of dread was gnawing at you. From the back of your mind, a guilt started to creep in. It was hard enough losing the amount of men that you had today, but losing Fives too would be a pain you couldn't return from. You couldn't let that happen, not on your watch.

The door to the medbay swung open as you barged your way in, heads turning in your direction at the intrusion. Your eyes quickly found Fives’, sat on a cot at the back of the room and talking to Tup. You made a beeline for him instantly.

“What happened? Where are you hurt?” you asked, eyes scanning over his form as you drew your brows into a deep frown. His armour was still intact, only his helmet taken off and resting beside him.

“General…?” Fives addressed you with a worried look, and it was then that you realised how heavily you were breathing. You had clearly been walking faster than you realised.

“I'm sorry” you took a moment to catch your breath, a light blush dusting your cheeks, “Dogma said you were hurt, I—”

You then noticed the graze on his cheekbone. From the looks of it, it seemed that a blaster bolt had narrowly missed its mark, instead only scorching across the skin of his cheek.

“Is this it?” you asked, stepping forwards and gently tracing your fingers across the underside of the burn.

Fives didn't respond right away, and you felt his body go rigid under your touch.

“Um, it—” he cleared his throat, and you noticed his cheeks flush red, “yeah, Tup made me come in, it's just a scratch, nothing major”

“Good” you said softly, almost a whisper.

You gaze lingered on him as you took your hand away, noting the way his brows scrunched upwards, his eyes seemingly searching yours for some kind of explanation as to your suddenly affectionate actions.

Tup cleared his throat, snapping you both from your trance, and Fives shifted in his seat. It was only by his leg grazing yours that you realised that you'd wound up standing between his legs, and you stepped backwards quickly, trying to act unphased despite the blush you could feel creeping up the back of your neck.

“Did you need me for anything, General?” Fives spoke awkwardly, using his hands all too much for how much he was saying.

“No, yeah, just wanted to— I mean, yea— No” you stuttered out, and heard Tup fail to suppress a laugh.

You scolded yourself internally for being so affected by him, to the point where you were acting completely strange in front of your men. You really shouldn't give in so easily. You had done so much training in keeping your mind from seeking selfish desires, but those parts of your mind seemed to shut down around Fives.

It occurred to you then that you'd never so much as touched him before, and his alarmed reaction suddenly made a whole lot of sense. It also made you realise that he'd never touched you either, and you felt your face heat even more at your foolishness.

“I’ll just see you later” you mumbled out, realising you had just been staring at him for a moment too long.

Fives watched you leave the medical bay with a furrowed brow, though Tup, on the other hand, was smirking broadly.

In the dead of night, when everyone else was most likely in the deepest part of their sleep, your mind was still active, working overtime, and keeping you as awake as you had been during the battle. Everything you believed in was being thrown into question, it was hard not to. Then, at the centre of it all, was Fives. Fives, who was always on your mind. Fives, who always reminded you why you felt like this, just when you thought you'd gotten over it. Fives, who was respectful and affable and professional in a way that made you crazy.

You became distracted from your thoughts when you heard something outside your room. A shadow appeared beneath the door to the corridor, waited for a moment, and then disappeared again. It happened a few times before your curiosity overwhelmed you, and you quietly lifted yourself from your cot to walk over.

You let the person walk away once more, waiting to see what they would do, and this time it seemed like they wouldn't come back. Though, after a short while, the shadow returned, and you opened up your door.

Much to your surprise, your eyes met those of the man that plagued your thoughts, and he was clearly just as surprised that you had opened the door.

“General! I'm so sorry, I’ll jus—”

“Fives, relax”

You put your hand on his shoulder, and as he was not adorned by his usual armour, he looked as if your touch had burnt into him, wincing.

“What brings you here? Is everything alright?” you asked, noting his somewhat distressed visage.

“Everything is fine General, I'm sorry for disturbing your sleep” he spoke quickly, starting to walk away.

“Fives” you grabbed his arm to stop him leaving, “I wasn't asleep. Tell me what's troubling you”

There were more emotions than you could name flitting through his eyes, and it worried you. You had never seen him like this. His eyes flicked down your figure, no doubt noticing how you hadn't yet changed from your robes and armour, and you realised that your face was most likely still smeared with dirt.

“Would you like to come in?” you asked softly when he didn’t reply.

Fives looked startled, “I— I shouldn't”

You sighed, frowning a little, “I'm not really concerned with what you should or shouldn't do. If it would ease your mind, I'd like you to come in”

His distressed expression relented enough to see that your words had hit home for him. You stepped to the side, inviting him inside and he waited for another second before entering. You closed the door behind you and went back over to your cot, though Fives was still standing awkwardly by the door.

“Would you like to sit down?” you asked, patting your hand on the cot next to you.

Fives did as you said, as if it were a command, and you wished for just one moment that he would stop seeing you as nothing more than his commanding officer. He was wringing his hands as he took his seat, and you only became more worried.

“Now, tell me what's on your mind”

He looked up to you and paused, before looking away again, “I couldn't sleep”

You nodded, encouraging him to go on, “why not?”

“I—” his eyes found yours again, a vulnerability shining in them that you had only seen a few times, “I was worried about you General”

“About me?” your brow furrowed on instinct, “why?”

“I don't mean this rudely, but… you were acting kind of weird earlier, I only wanted to make sure you were alright”

Your frown softened at his words, a small smile appearing, and you placed a hand on his arm, “thank you Fives, that's very considerate, but you don't have to worry about me”

Fives gave you a funny sort of look, as if you'd just said something preposterous, “I'll always worry about you General, It's our job— my job to look after you”

You couldn't help but smile at how sweet he was, but it was tinged with a sadness of remembering the power imbalance between you. You had always tried to minimise it — you saw your life as the same value as the clones — but you knew that they didn't see it that way, and neither did anyone else.

You sighed, moving your gaze to the floor in front of you as you pulled your knees to your chest, “today was just… difficult”

Fives nodded in understanding, watching as your carefully constructed noble exterior began to crumble away.

“It's hard not to feel like everything is pointless, for nought. We lost so many men today, men that I—” you paused before you could get too choked up, “it's hard to tell people that their life has value when it's not treated as such”

Fives breathed out a long breath, “myself and my brothers are prepared to die for you, General, as much as you—”

“Well I don't want that” you almost snapped at him, your frown showing how you disapproved of the comment, “I didn't ask for this, for—”

You knew you shouldn't go on. Fives didn't need to know that you were questioning the order and your place in the war. It wasn't for him to bear the burden of.

“Today was tough” he agreed in a soft voice, and your eyes flicked to the now almost healed burn across his cheek, “it didn't feel like a win, at the end of the day”

You hummed in agreement. No victory could make up for the loss you felt.

“It makes me…angry, and I shouldn't be” you admitted quietly, and you could feel the weight of his gaze as you forced your eyes away from him.

You wanted to confide in Fives. He made it so easy, made you feel so safe. Safe enough to tell him your darkest secrets and deepest desires, but you knew no good could come of it. What point was there in telling a soldier under your command that you didn't believe in what he was specifically created to do?

“General” Fives called gently, if a little insistently, and you realised that you had completely zoned out.

“Sorry, what?” you looked up at him, blinking a few times and lifting your chin from where it rested on your knees.

“I asked why you were still wearing your armour… and your robes”

“Oh” you looked down at yourself, “I… I don't know. I was distracted, I suppose”

Fives sighed a little, giving you a somewhat unimpressed look.

“What?” you asked, almost a chuckle.

“I think I was right to be worried about you, General” his unimpressed expression invaded his words, and you let out a breathy laugh.

“I'm fine, Fives — really. I just need to… wash the day off, probably”

“Yeah, you certainly do” he mumbled out, a small smirk lifting his lips.

You scoffed at him as you stood from your cot, “you're lucky I like you Fives. Any other commanding officer would send you to the brig for telling them they stink”

He chuckled and ducked his head slightly, “I didn't just mean it like that. You've got…” he gestured to his cheek, and you caught your reflection as you turned on the refresher light, taking his meaning.

“Maker, I can't believe I looked this awful the whole time and you didn't say anything” you laughed quietly, taking in your certainly battle-worn appearance.

There was dirt crusted onto your face and into your hair, and the eyebags that weighed down the skin under your eyes were more prominent than you'd seen in a long time. The war was clearly stretching you thin, and you sighed at how dull and lifeless you looked overall.

“I'll have a shower” you gave Fives a weak smile as you crossed the room to your chest of drawers, pulling out a fresh set of sleep clothes.

Fives shifted uncomfortably on the bed, “uh— do you want me to leave?”

“Oh” you spoke a little disappointedly, “if you would like to. It is late after all, and I don’t wish it keep you from your sleep”

“No, I—” he cleared his throat, “I just— I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable, General”

You smiled at him warmly, your hand coming to rest on your hip, “you're not making me uncomfortable. In fact, it's nice to have you here”

His throat constricted as he swallowed, “thank you, General”

You rolled you eyes at the formality as you stepped back into the refresher once more.

“One of these days I'll get you to stop calling me that” you grumbled, and heard a huffed laugh coming from your room.

“Probably not”

You rested against the doorframe for a moment to look at the ARC trooper who was sat on your cot with a playful squint of your eyes, “that's not very dutiful of you, trooper”

“I didn't hear any orders” he shrugged, failing to suppress a smirk.

“Mm” you hummed thoughtfully, pushing off the doorframe, “don't tempt me”

You closed the door to the refresher and let out a long breath.

It felt oddly domestic, Fives sat on your cot as you threw teases his way before you went in the shower. Something inside you ached at the realisation that it would be something you'd never get to do under any normal circumstances. You longed to see a day when it would be acceptable in the eyes of those around you, but you knew you'd never see it. You felt hollow as you stepped into the shower.

You let the water wash over you, clearing dirt and grime with every droplet. Before long, you found yourself curled up and sat under stream of water, letting the weight of it hit your back as you cradled your head. Everything felt so crushing in that moment. The war, the day's losses, your duty as a jedi, a duty that you weren't sure you even understood anymore.

You didn’t realise how long you'd been sat there until you heard a gentle rapping against the door.

“General, are you okay?”

You sniffled, and only realised then that you had been crying. Perhaps Fives had heard you.

“I'm fine” you called weakly, “I'll be out soon”

You finished cleaning yourself mindlessly, fingers tangling in your hair as you worked the dirt out of it and letting the heat of the steam envelop you, almost making you feel feint. You welcomed it, a strange state of delirium that pushed your mind to a stillness. You slid on your clean clothes, a soft vest and shorts, beginning to dry your hair as you reopened the door to your room.

Fives still sat on the cot, and you gave him a gentle smile as you switched off the light. His eyes trailed the length of your body quickly before settling on your face, giving you a soft smile in return.

“Feel better?” he asked.

You nodded, reaching up to continue drying your hair with your towel, “yeah, I—”

“General!” Fives’ eyes went wide and he jumped up from his seat, rushing over to you.

You stepped back as he approached, confused by his sudden outburst. His hand retracted from where it reached out towards you and his eyes found yours once more, a look of something desperate in his eyes.

“I didn't know you were injured. Why didn't you get Kix to look at it?”

“What?” you frowned, looking down at your body.

You top had obviously rode up a little as you had stretched, and the bottom of a very dark, and very large, bruise poked out the bottom. You peeled up the top gently, conscious not to show too much, but equally revelling in how it just seemed to grow ever larger the more you revealed. Your hip and the left side of your ribcage were a mix of unpleasant purples, blues, and yellows.

“I— I forgot” you breathed out, remembering exactly when you would have sustained the injury. As expected, the commando droid had left a mark.

“You forgot?” Fives asked, incredulous.

You pulled your vest down, covering the offending mark.

“You need to get it checked out” Fives insisted.

“I'm fine, it doesn't even hurt” you replied, waving him off as you took your seat on your cot once more, against the headboard so that you faced the clone who stood across the room.

“General, please”

He retook his spot on the cot, giving his best pleading look. You didn't reply, and couldn't, for fear of the undignified squeak that would come out if you did. His eyes flicked between yours, searching for whatever it was that was going on behind them. You couldn't help the way your eyes began to water, and the distress on Fives’ face was clear as day.

“General” he spoke softly as he shifted closer to you, as if the rank was an affectionate nickname more than anything, “what's the matter?”

You fiddled with your fingers as you brought your knees to your chest once more, a comforting gesture as you showed far more vulnerability than you were usually comfortable with.

“Things aren't how they should be, Fives” you muttered, almost a whisper.

“What things?” he asked, innocently enough, though the way his body tensed told you how the words worried him.

“I— I'm really beginning to question some of the decisions of the council”

Fives looked alarmed, his voice betraying him further, “you're not going to leave, are you?”

You chuckled a little at his reaction, “probably not, no”

“Then…” he paused, not wishing to overstep any boundaries, “what decisions are you questioning?”

You sighed deeply, looking away in search of answers. What were you really questioning? Was it just the way that they conducted themselves in the war? Or did your suspicion run deeper? Was it the members of the council themselves? Was it what they believed? Or was it how the jedi were perceived by the galaxy?

“I don't know” you answered truthfully, “there are things I’ve always had qualms with — I’ve never understood some things such as… I feel that attachment is a natural part of the human condition, so I’ve always struggled with letting go, but… with the war, I worry that the purpose of the jedi is changing”

“Changing how?” Fives asked.

“The war means we have different priorities” you replied simply, turning you gaze back to him, “we’re no longer keepers of the peace. We can’t be, not while we’re leading a war”

Fives nodded and kept quiet for a moment. It was clear that his mind was working overtime, his eyes flitting across your face and around the room as his brows drew together and he subtly chewed on the inside of his cheek.

“You struggle with letting go?” he questioned in a quiet voice, his eyes locking with yours. There was something in his gaze, like he was searching for a specific answer.

You tried to quell your sudden nerves with a gulp, “yes”

“In what way?”

“Um, well I—” you spoke ever so eloquently, “I suppose I haven’t always succeeded in remaining… disconnected, from other people”

Fives couldn’t help but raise a questioning brow, and you almost scoffed.

“I— you— it’s hard” you grumbled, a frustrated huff escaping you, “you and the other clones are all under my command, how am I supposed to just not care about you?”

Fives shrugged, a small smile spreading across his lips, “some of the other Generals seem to manage”

“Whatever” you rolled your eyes a little, “I don’t want to be indifferent. You’re important to me, and I don’t care what the council would have to say about that”

Fives’ smile tightened almost imperceptibly at your words, but you still caught the way it became false as he turned to look at the ground.

“Is there… something else troubling you?” you asked, tilting your head so that you entered his field of view.

“It’s nothing, General” he flashed the hollow smile your way as he stood from the cot, “I should really be going—”

“Fives” you grabbed his wrist gently, stopping him from going any further, “what’s the matter?”

The way he looked down at you was almost pained, like he’d been wounded and was trying his best to hide the discomfort. Your stomach lurched at the sight, and a worried crease formed in your brow.

“There are some things I can’t say to you General” he spoke sadly, and the combination of his words with that tone made your heart ache.

“You can tell me anything, you know that” you replied, your voice more desperate than you had intended.

Fives just shook his head slowly, continuing to look at you with some form of anguish swimming in his amber eyes.

“Fives, talk to me. What is it?” you urged, standing up so that you were almost chest to chest with him.

“I want to tell you… everything” he paused, stepping away from you so your hand fell from his wrist, “but I can’t”

You shifted closer to him again, “why not?”

“It’s… inappropriate, frowned upon”

You dropped your head to the side, looking at him with a little suspicion, “are you in some kind of trouble?”

“In a way” he chuckled, though it was strained.

“Fives” you said his voice in a serious tone, akin to one you might use when commanding your men, “what is this about?”

He blew out a long breath, his eyes focused on anything but yours, “it’s… you”

“Me?” your eyebrows raised, “what about me?”

“Everything about you” he said softly in a wistful sigh.

“I don’t understand. Have I upset you?” you asked, trying to catch his gaze.

“No, no. You couldn’t”

You hesitated for a moment, then gently took his hands in yours, earning a sharp intake of breath, “please help me to understand”

“I—” his breath stuttered as he tried to find the right words to use, “you make me feel things that I’m not supposed to, General”

Your eyes widened slightly, your own breath quickening as his words sunk in.

“It’s hard not to. You…” he continued, tightening his grip on your hands and bringing them to his chest, “You're the epitome of grace, but also strength. You're… soft, gentle, and caring beyond measure, but also tough, fierce and ruthless to a degree I've never seen. You're level-headed, but foolish when it comes to that which you care about, and it's that display of humanity that—” he gulped, his gaze softening at just the idea of it, “it makes my heart ache for you. I know that I’m just a soldier to you but I— I'd give myself to you, over and over, even if every time it ended in tragedy, because there is no life I could live where you’re not a part of it, even if that’s just as my General. I'd do anything you asked, I'd die by your hand if you willed it, but I know that you'd never ask anything like that of me, and that's why I'm… in pain. Because I'd give everything to you, and you'd never take it”

It was hard to believe what you were hearing. You couldn't help the way tears gathered in your waterline at the affectionate words he was saying, observations about you that you had no idea he had been making. You had never realised that he cared so much, so deeply, in the same way that you cared for him. But the one thing that truly stumped you, was that Fives was genuinely convinced that you held no affections for him, that you just saw him in the same way you saw the rest of your men.

“Oh Fives” you spoke no louder than a whisper, releasing your hand from his to trail your fingers along his jaw and gently hold his face. His eyes fluttered shut, and an uneasy breath escaped him as he leaned into your palm with a pained expression. “You're right, I wouldn't ask anything of you”

The hurt was so clear in the depths of his eyes when they opened again. He tried to pull away but your other hand found his face, keeping his gaze locked on you.

“But… that doesn't mean that I don't want to”

His eyes widened at your words, but he stayed silent, as if waiting for you to continue. His gaze flicked to your lips momentarily, but it was clear that he wouldn't let himself indulge in his thoughts, that it had to be on your terms. You didn't know whether you agreed.

You took the lead nonetheless, guiding his head down to touch your forehead to his. Closing your eyes and focusing your energy on where your bodies connected, you reached out through the force. You tried to communicate to Fives all of the feelings that swirled within you, a cacophony of everything good and pure, manifested in a blending of colours and sensations, with a palette only holding the most pleasant colours. Deep blues waged war with vivid reds, a careful dance of remorse and desire, but atop all of it, a sense of calm.

You opened your eyes and met Fives’ gaze, a tenderness woven into the amber hues. That same calm feeling washed over you. You had always felt safe with him, and it went far beyond him being a more than capable soldier.

His mouth hung open fractionally, and you couldn't help but let your eyes wander across his face, taking in every freckle and scar en route to his lips. You tilted your face upwards tentatively, and Fives let out a shuddering breath. You could feel it on your lips, and it took everything within you not to shiver.

“Wait” his voice was quiet, but you heard the word clearly.

You pulled backwards, looking up at him expectantly, and watched his throat bob as he swallowed.

“If you start this, I don’t know that I’ll be able to stop”

You let a small smile lift the corners of your mouth, dropping your head to the side a little, “isn't that kind of the point?”

Fives let out a short exasperated laugh, “I mean it, General. Please… don't give me something without giving me everything, because I can't—”

“Fives” you called firmly, rubbing your thumb across his cheek to gain his full attention, “I need you to hear me, loud and clear”

His expression was still hesitant, but he nodded for you to continue.

“I do not say this lightly. You have made it very hard for me to follow the very ideals I am supposed to uphold from the moment you walked into my life. Though, it is not your fault, it’s mine. I could have made myself scarce, I could have tried to stay away, to let my feelings die out, but instead, I chose to nurture them. It would be easy to say that I don’t know why I did, to pretend it’s all some plot against me, but I do. It’s because…” you took a deep breath, “even though it will undoubtedly end in tragedy, I too cannot see my life without you in it, and I would give myself to you, I will give myself to you, because I am finally being honest with myself. I can finally admit that I care for you more than ideals that I would not chose for myself if my life was any different”

Fives’ eyes widened with each word you spoke, though ended up with a look of guilt plastered on his face.

“General, I can’t allow you abandon your beliefs, not for me. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No Fives, it’s me that should apologise” you sighed, “I didn’t want to put you in this position, but I will not choose this for you. You have been afforded so little choice in your life, and I will not take away this one when it would have far more severe repercussions for you than for me”

Fives just stared at you with a plain expression, “you would have me? If I wanted that?”

“I want whatever you want”

“I want you” he replied breathlessly, bringing his forehead down to yours once more.

You smiled, “then you have me”

Fives immediately brought his lips to yours, all the hurriedness of the action melting away as he got his first taste of you. His mouth was heavy against yours, reaching inside you and stealing all of the breath from your lungs in a slow rhythm.

The way his lips tangled with yours was sending your mind into overdrive, though his hands remained firmly planted at his sides. Your own hands were on him; on his chest, in his hair, pulling him closer, and it was as if his brain was short circuiting. As if he'd spent so long trying not to touch you that he didn't even know what to do with himself.

“Fives” you mumbled against his lips, “you can touch me”

He breathed out heavily as he pulled away momentarily, “are you sure? I-”

“Please” you said desperately

Without need to be told again, he was groaning into your mouth, pulling you closer by your waist, fingers gripping onto your hips tightly and bringing you into his lap as he fell back on the cot. His hands began to map your body, covering every inch of skin he could find. For all that it felt like he had been restraining himself from touching you before, it seemed that now that he had got his hands on you, he wasn’t going to let go.

“I can’t believe this is happening” He breathed out as your lips travelled along his jaw.

You smirked at his aporetic tone, “And why's that?”

“I just didn't think—” his breath hitched as you found a sensitive spot behind his ear, “didn’t think you saw me this way”

“Hope you're not still thinking that” you mumbled against his skin.

“It's a little hard when you're—” you rolled your hips forwards, earning an uneasy groan from the man whose lap you were on, “—doing that”

“A little hard, huh?” you teased.

“General…” he growled in your ear and your lips curled into a satisfied smirk.

“What?” you spoke into his ear, in a voice as sweet and innocent as you could muster.

“You're playing a dangerous game”

“Am I?” You tangled your fingers in his hair, lightly pulling down as you found that spot behind his ear once more.

He let out a breathy groan, “fuck. General, you can’t—”

“Can’t what?” you interrupted, repeating the action.

“Alright, that’s it”

His hands gripped your hips tightly as he flipped the two of you over. He pressed his body into yours, taking your hands in his and intertwining your fingers as he pinned them to the cot. His kisses became even more heated, lips devouring yours and resting his weight into you. The intensity drew a small moan from the back of your throat, and Fives seized the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, drawing him even closer.

“Fuck” he hissed, “have you done this before?”

”Kind of”

He laughed, a breath huffed onto your lips, “kind of?”

“I might have—” your breath stuttered, his lips on your neck stopping your words, “—fooled around with someone a bit, before I took my vows”

Fives tutted, and you could feel him smirking against your skin as he dragged his lips across your pulse point, “and I thought you were a good jedi”

“Looks like any hopes of that have been lost now” you replied breathlessly, your head dropping against the mattress to allow him better access.

Fives chuckled, his thumbs rubbing circles against your palms, “looks that way”

His voice rumbled through your body, the reverberations sending waves of heat through your limbs. Your hand broke free from his hold as he danced his fingers across your thigh, and you took the opportunity to slide it underneath his blacks, feeling the warmth of his skin.

As if your actions were a command, Fives pulled away from you, just long enough to reach for his neck and slip off his top, never once taking his eyes from you. You ran your hands along his bare abdomen as he sat back, and he watched you take in his exposed form.

You were met by tanned skin, marked by the horrors of war; scars that wouldn't heal and surely cut deeper than the flesh. You outlined the more prominent marks with your first finger, before resting your hand against his chest, your gaze lifting to his face once more.

“Stars, Fives. You’re gorgeous”

He smirked a little, tracing his fingers over your waist, “nothing compared to you”

“I mean it, I— Maker, I’ve wanted you for so long”

You could see the way his eyes lit up at the comment, and he gripped onto your hip once more, “That’s high praise indeed, coming from you”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Just let me compliment you”

His smirk dissolved into a beaming grin as he trapped your head between his forearms. “No” he said simply, and any protests died on your lips as he captured them between his own.

Kissing Fives, being intimate with him in this way, just felt right. It felt as if it had always been this way, as if it wasn't something new. The way he touched you like he knew your body like the back of his hand, the way his force signature melded with yours as if they were one, it all felt so familiar.

When he slid his hands under your vest, and you peeled it from your body, somewhere in your mind you thought you should be nervous. No one else had ever seen you so exposed, but Fives’ adoring gaze, the way he was drinking in your body, his featherlight touches as he ran his fingers up your sides, you couldn't help but feel safe.

“You’re so beautiful”

He said it like it was a sinful confession, his words dripping with such devotional adoration that you couldn't help the blush that arose across your cheeks. He kissed down the valley of your breasts, mumbling fragments of acclamatory phrases as if he didn't have the breath to finish them. Your blood heated at his words. It sounded as if he were drunk, whispering secrets he wouldn't otherwise confess to.

“So pretty for me” you heard him say against your skin, and it drew a forceful shudder from you.

His hands were all over you as he continued to kiss down your body. Kneading your hips, caressing your breasts, stroking along your thighs. Every touch sent desire coursing through your veins. He knelt at your feet as he met the edge of the bed, pulling you towards him.

“General, can I—”

“Are you seriously calling me that right now?” you looked down at him in disbelief. He was in between your legs, asking to take down your nightwear and still calling you by your rank.

He let out a short self deprecating laugh.

“What would you like me to call you?” he asked, playing with the hem of your sleep shorts.

“I do have a name, you know” you informed him.

“I do know that” he chuckled with a fond smile, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, “is that what you’d prefer?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, coming to rest on your elbows, “you have another idea?”

“I have a few” he smirked, beginning to slowly pull down your shorts. “Beautiful, gorgeous, pretty…” he trailed off as he helped you detangle your legs from the nightwear.

You were now laid out completely bare to him and he had to take a deep breath, letting out a low whistle before he could start talking again.

“Then there’s always darling” he continued, pressing a kiss to your knee, his eyes finding yours again. “Sweetheart” he trailed kisses up your inner thigh and your breath became increasingly short, “or even… mesh'la, cyar'ika”

He placed his final kiss at the very top of your thighs, right beside where you ached for him the most, and the feeling of his hot breath against your core made your head drop back and your eyes flutter shut.

“Kriff, I don’t care. Call me whatever you want” you heard yourself say.

Fives’ eyes darkened as he softly chuckled, “Alright jetii'ika, be a good girl and lay back for me”

You obliged with a heavied sigh, and Fives’ grin only widened. Without much warning, his tongue found its place at the apex of your thighs, and all processing in your brain cut out.

The sound, let alone the sensation of him lapping at you was enough to twist your stomach with pleasure. His tongue worked with expert precision, the same precision you saw from his work on the battlefield, and suddenly you no longer scolded yourself for getting turned on by how good of a soldier he was.

He gripped your thighs as he brought you closer to him, his mouth consuming you and taking every ounce of pleasure with it. It was as if pulling this pleasure from you was second nature, as if it were his true duty to you. He was no longer a soldier of the GAR, he was the lone trooper in the invasion of your psyche, and he knew every trick to wind his way in.

You couldn't help the lewd sounds you were making. You had envisioned this situation far too often, but anything that Fives did was far exceeding your expectations. With every stroke of his tongue, every light graze of his teeth against your sensitive bundle of nerves, you drew closer to the edge, your insides constricting in pleasure and red hot desire.

Between swift motions of his tongue and lips, Fives let out his own pleasured noises, deep groans that reverberated against you and only sent you tumbling further towards release. He spoke honeyed words of praise against you, telling you how much he'd wanted this, how long he'd waited to taste you.

White hot bliss ran through your veins as Fives worked you through your high, taking every last drop of what you gave him. His large hands gripped your thighs and forced them open, not relenting until you had come down from the intensity of your release.

Your chest heaved as he pulled away, coming to rest his weight against your side. Your mouth hung open to collect your breath as he took your face in his hand, running his thumb along your cheekbone with the most adoring look plastered on his face.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah” you breathed out, a little chuckle following, “great”

He grinned, obviously proud of his handiwork, “you reckon you can give me another?”

Your eyes widened a little as your mouth curled into its own grin, and he pressed his body into yours, making you have to bite down on your bottom lip to supress a moan quite unsuccessfully.

“Can I take that as a yes?” he smirked at your reaction.

A laugh escaped you, “you can”

He was then kissing you again, this time more unhurried, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. The intimacy of it made your head spin, which was only intensified when he lifted himself from you and removed his remaining pieces of clothing.

Watching him kneel between your legs in all his glory, even before he entered you, you thought that you could probably die happy now. There was no better feeling than that which you felt around Fives, and now, with his bare skin on yours, limbs slotting and tangling together, you felt complete.

Your bodies melded together, becoming one, and all you could see and feel was him, as if he was all that existed in the cruel galaxy you both inhabited. His eyes pierced yours as his face hovered above you, watching how he affected you. You placed your hand on his face, drawing his forehead to yours once more, and he turned his head to place a sweet kiss against your palm, even in the intense passion of the moment.

There was something so deeply arousing about how you were usually the one in control of everything, a legion of troopers at your command, but here, right now, Fives was the one in control of you. It was a welcome reprieve, but you wouldn't take it from anyone else. That much was obvious to Fives, the way you were writhing beneath him told him so.

With every action he took, he made time to worship every inch of your body, kissing your skin with a such a reverence that you had never received from anyone else in such a way. By the time your second release was washing over you, you were begging for him to follow you over the edge, and him being a obedient trooper, doing anything for his General, he accommodated your unholy pleas.

You remained joined as you both caught your breath once more, basking in the sweet ecstasy of your mutual fulfilment. You had never felt such euphoria.

Fives gulped at he looked into your eyes, a reservation about him.

“What is it?” you prompted, taking his face if your hands.

He sighed, a delighted sound that made your heart sing, “what happens now?”

You didn't necessarily want to think about it. All of the problems that you had described to Fives would still stand when your left the comfort of his embrace, but equally, something felt as if it had shifted. Fives was yours, and you were his. That was significant to you, and something about it made you feel invincible in that moment.

“I don't know” you admitted, wishing you could give a better answer, “but I'm not letting you out of my sights now, that’s for sure”

He grinned down at you as he tightened his hold, “You stole my line”

You laughed blithely, your head thrown back on the mattress as you revelled in the feeling of him against you for a long as you could.

“Well, I'm glad you feel the same” you conceded, your voice portraying a teasing edge, though your amiable smile gave away the sincerity of the comment.

“Oh jetii'ika, I don't even have the words to describe how I truly feel” he spoke earnestly, an affectionate smile lifting his lips as he brushed some hair away from your forehead and planted a kiss on the unveiled skin.

taglist: @darthnihila @cdblake1565

130 notes · View notes