#it's pleasing to the eyes in a way quite undescribable

[punctuation-completionist]

!

1/22

H33H33H33!! H4H4H4H4!!!

[lokideservesahug]

Undescribed Avoidance

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Pairing: Jenson Button x reader, Mark Webber x reader (implied)

Warnings: None that I can see?

Notes: Thank you so much for the support on this, I'm so glad you like it! Still not the big one but I think that'll come fairly soon... I really quite like the ending of this and please let me know what you think!

Summary: You just can't seem to get Mark's attention in the way you want... But poor Jenson is trying his hardest to just have a conversation with you.

Part 1 Series Masterlist

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You're quite surprised with how different your rookie season is to your second season. Despite there still being low murmurs of doubt, you certainly proved to most that you are worthy of being here.

You walk into the paddock, head held high, ready for media day. You chose to coordinate your outfit with the car, half wanting to feel a connection to the team and half wanting to show everyone just how focused you are on the end goal this year; winning that world championship. Many would say that wearing white shoes and a white shirt is a recipe for disaster but you (and later the media agree with you) think that it not only creates a good tone for this year but also makes you look damn good.

You've ignored Jenson since the start of the season. Not deliberately per se but more so in an attempt to focus. You've fallen back into a routine not dissimilar to the one you had last year and Jenson wasn't in that routine last season, simple as. One person who was however was Mark. He was always there to congratulate you, looking out for you etc yet you cant help but notice that he seems a bit... distant? You shake your head. It's probably because of how busy the start of the season is. Ross manages his team very differently to how Frank did and goodness knows all eyes are on you. On all of you; Michael, Ross, the team and especially yourself. There have been a good number of articles stating how confident they are that you'll win the world championship this year... Not that you've looked (especially if your PR officer asks, she does not want you to read any articles about the team, something about being detrimental for your mental health or something like that...) You usualy space out during PR meetings so it should be no surprise that you don't remember every word said...

You break out from your thoughts as you hear a familiar laugh. Your head whips around and you see Mark stood outside of the red bull hospitality, talking to another red bull worker. You contemplate whether to approach him but all doubtful thoughts are pushed down as you approach him with a grin. "Hi Mark." He smiles back at you as your eyes meet and it feels as if you hadn't had any worries about growing distant. He appears to be the same old Mark that looked out for you at every turn last year. "Heya Y/L/N, how are you today?" You smile and continue to make small talk. And so what if you're a tiny bit late to hospitality, Mark is finally talking to you again so nothing else matters.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

The first race comes and goes in a flash of champagne, confetti and celebrations that follows into the second race as well. And now, you've currently started a winning streak by winning at Australia for the second year in a row.

A slightly overeager fan even approached you when you were walking with Michael and said in an excited voice "Gosh if you win next year, we might have to call you the Queen of Australia." You all just laughed at the awful pun, both signed their cap and continued walking. Which brings you to now, and once again, you can't seem to find Mark.

You laugh at the thought. If you weren't weren't busy you'd almost thing he was avoiding you... Yet before you can continue that thought, a flash of motion catches your attention. You look to your right with an unimpressed grin. "What if I was cooking up some amazing strategy and you just distracted me?" Michael throws his head back in laughter and pats you on the back. "Good one. Ross said he wanted a team meeting in a few minutes." You roll your eyes and stand up, your knees cracking beneath you. "He always wants a meeting. You'd think it's the only reason he does this." Michael just tilts his head and you give him a funny look. "Well he hasn't changed much since his Ferrari days." You exhale slightly as the two of you continue to walk in step. "Gosh, you've been dealing with this for years?" The German just gives you a small nod and you grin at his misfortune.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Honestly, you blink for a moment and then suddenly Mark is racing away. It's the third race in the season and you can now confidently say, Mark Webber is in fact ignoring you. You place down the empty bottle down on the top step of the podium where you were standing moments ago and turn to race after a charging Mark. "Y/N?" You whip your head to meet Jenson's eyes as you finally reach the edge of the podium. "Sorry I've just got to chase something. Is it alright if I catch you later?" You leave Jenson no time to awnser as you're already walking off, desperate to find Mark, unknowingly also leaving a deflated looking Jenson behind you.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

You fall back on the sofa with a groan. When Michael invited you to have dinner with his family, you assume that he expected to moan about your problems. Well regardless, you're doing it. Your teammate just chuckles and sits at the armchair as his children scatter through the door. You move your legs slightly and Gina sits at your side and Mick at his father's and your feat on a precariously placed cushion on the floor.

Gina holds out her hairbrush and bobble and you take it in a wordless gesture, the routine coming naturally to you at this point. You continue to talk to Michael as you begin to brush Gina's hair. "I just don't get what I've done wrong. I've been friendly, kept in touch over the break, all of the normal things until he still ignores me. I thought that he was better than being bitter over someone else winning." Michael laughs as you begin to separate Gina's hair into three sections. "It's not that." You look up at him, briefly pausing from plaiting his daughter's hair. You groan "I hate when you get all cryptic." Michael just grins as you feel Gina's head shake slightly in a giggle, clearly used to her father's antics. "You'll understand eventually." You tie the end of the plait as you roll your eyes and see Corrina enter the room in your peripherals. She places a tender hand on her husband's shoulder and gives you a knowing look, clearly agreeing with Michael.

Gosh, you wish you could be so in love and in sync with someone like they are, one day.

Gina mutters a small thanks and she leans her head on your shoulder. "Well don't get too comfy because otherwise dessert will get cold." At Corinna's words, Mick bolts up and starts running towards with a happy exclamation. You all breathe out laughs and follow after him, but at a much more sensible pace.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Silverstone. The heart of British Motorsport and one of the most iconic circuits in history. You take a deep breath, taking in the smells and sights of Thursday. A track untouched this weekend with a clear scent onto to be tarnished with burnt rubber and oil by the end of the weekend.

You meet the eyes of a young girl.

Her eyes dart around as if scared and you watch as the familiar back of Mark bends down to speak to her. You walk towards them to see if you can help the situation in any way (and you feel very thankful that you might finally be able to interact with Mark for the first time in what feels like forever). The girl backs up slightly but as you get closer, she looks up at you and meets your eyes. The girl looks to be about six and you wave at her now awestruck figure. Her mouth splits into a toothy grin and you slowly walk towards her. "Hi, I'm Y/N what's your name?" The girl giggles "I know you. I'm Charlotte." You give the small girl a smile. "That's a lovely name Charlotte. Is this your first time at Silverstone?" She nods her head and then furrows her brows as if suddenly coming to a realisation. "Yeah... my daddy wanted to take me." You smile at the girl. "Oh yeah. Is your daddy around here somewhere?" You lift your eyes and scan the surroundings. No sign of a spectator or even a frantic parent looking for a missing child.

Charlotte shakes her head and shrinks in on herself. You stand up and hold your hand out for the younger girl. "Well, shall we try and find him?" Charlotte just nods timidly and the two of you begin to look around for her father. "Can you tell me what your daddy looks like?"

You turn to Mark to ask of he'd seen the girl's father only for Charlotte to hide her face in your side and mutter something into your shirt. You gently lean away from the girl slightly and ask he to repeat myself. "My daddy said to not speak to strangers." She casts Mark a wary, almost scared look. You think for a moment and can't help but blurt out "But I'm a stranger?" Charlotte's eyes meet yours again and she shakes her head. "No you're not. You're Y/N from the racing at the weekend. I know you!" You give a soft smile at Charlotte, who is very quickly melting your heart. "Oh that's lovely. Charlotte but you can't always trust everyone you see even if they're on the telly." Charlotte pouts "But I want to be like you when I'm older. And my daddy has posters of you and that man in red in his office."

You're confused for a moment as to what she means by the 'man in red' until you draw the conclusion that she must be talking about Michael. So Charlotte's father must be a Mercedes fan then... At least that somewhat narrows it down you think?

You look around and hold your hand out again for Charlotte to take. "Well Miss Charlotte, what better way to find your father than give you a V.I.P tour of the paddock?" Charlotte's jaw drops in shock and you give a small nod to Mark who stands up and walks with the pair of you, keeping his distance to scan the surroundings for Charlotte's father. He just gives a small smile back and you feel your heart flutter at the small exchange. Charlotte clears her throat slightly and speaks in a quiet voice. "Who's that?" You tilt your head and point to Mark. "Who, him?" Charlotte nods and you can't stop yourself from smiling at the thought of the man. "That's Mark Webber, he drives for Red Bull."

Charlotte's lips form a tiny 'o' in realisation and she let's out a small exhale. She glances at Mark again and turns to you in a loud whisper (that probably seems quiet to a six year old). "Is he your boyfriend?" You feel your cheeks warm at the question and both you and Mark freeze for a moment. You refuse to meet his eyes and just the both of you splutter for a moment. You force out a small "No... no he's not." You try and shield your face from the red bull driver and you see Charlotte cast a wary glance at Mark again. She whispers to you again "My daddy said all Australians are upside down? Is he ok?" This time, Mark clearly overhears her and chuckles. You shake your head and when Charlotte catches sight of a food cart tucked to the side of the McLaren hospitality, she races towards it, pulling you along with her.

Mark trails behind and unbeknownst to you, stares at the two of you with a look of longing. A dream future suddenly flashing before his eyes, hitting him with yet another harsh realisation of his feelings. Mark continues to look ahead at the two of you. He can't help himself from grinning yet the domestic moment is quickly broken by a man's frantic shouts.

"Charlotte!" The younger girl, now with a muffin in hand turns and widens her eyes. "Daddy!" The man runs towards his daughter and scoops her up in a protective hug, hand resting on the back of your head. His eyes are shut in sheer happiness to have his daughter back and he finally meets your eyes. "Thank you so much..." He pauses, the weight of who exactly finally found his daughter finally sinking in. You just give him a smile. "Hey, no worries. It was a pleasure to have her." The man looks down at his daughter and grins. "I'm impressed by how quickly she found the two of you. I've heen looking all morning and haven't found a single driver." You chuckle at the man, understanding exactly how little most drivers want to stop and converse with fans so early in the morning.

"Well, Charlotte here was more than exemplar at seeking us out." You reach out and rub a hand over the top of her head, making her giggle. The interaction brings you such joy and as you come to the realisation that your little moment with her and Mark is coming to an end, an idea strikes you. "Hey, how would you like to come and sit in my garage for the weekend!" Charlotte's father's jaw just drops as the girl nods happily at you. "Please, please, please!" She tugs on her father's hand "Please daddy can we?" This clearly wakes the man from his shock and still speechless, he nods franticly and you. You laugh at the grown man, who is now reduced to simple cognitive behaviour and turn towards the Williams garage. You expect to see Mark at your side and at some point in the conversation you must have failed to see him leave as the Aussie is no longer at your side. You try and ignore the pang of emotion you feel as you begin to lead the father and daughter duo to the Williams hospitality.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Silverstone brings yet another win and a healthy few points to add to your championship lead. And yes Sebastian Vettel is going to be a pain in your ass but when is he not...

But now is nit the time.to worry about that as you sit alone in a pub. The team had insisted on coming out and at first you'd enjoyed the evening, celebrating, singing along to your favourite songs etc. But now, you're sat alone in the corner of a dark room all alone. Your mind briefly flashes to last year at the end of the season and you try and push away the memory. At least then you were on civil terms with Mark. Now it seems like he can barely look at you. A cough makes you look up and you meet the familiar eyes of Jenson Button.

"We need to stop meeting like this." You roll your eyes at the cliché. And tilt your head "Well maybe you need to stop following me then." And for once in your life, Jenson Button makes you laugh because his dumbfounded look deserves to be placed in a museum. He grins at your laugher and quickly recovers, holding out a hand. "Well, we can't have our winner sulking in a corner. You need to celebrate!" You roll your eyes and take Jenson's hand, shaking your head as you speak "Just to clarify, this is because I have nothing beeter to do not because I want to spend the evening with you." Jenson grins. "Sure love, keep telling yourself that." And as you let Jenson lead to to the dance floor, you try and distract yourself from Mark and his recent behaviour and instead focus on Jenson. Someone who has tried to put in effort to cheer you up and be friendly towards you.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

You meet Jenson's lips in a sultry kiss. "Don't think this means anything Button." You pull aways lightly and are met with the sight of Jenson's signature grin. "Of course not love." You just shake your head and snake your arm around his shoulders. Jenson carries on kissing you as if it would win him the world championship a hundred times over. And depsite the fact that yourself a year ago would have a fit at the thought, you must admit. Jenson Button is a damn good kisser. The sound of a distant knock sounds and the two of you pull away, your lower lip dragging between Jenson's own as you distance your faces. "Who is it?"

A second passes until you hear the familiar sound of your teammate. "Just me, Hase. Is everything alright in there?" You hum in agreeance and push Jenson oit of sight from the door. You pull down the handle and stick the top half of your body out of the door and are careful to shield Jenson from sight. You give Michael a smile and he furrows his brows before giving you a grin back. "Ah." You tilt your head at his clear realisation. "What?" The German shakes his head and grins. "Nothing Hase, just glad to see that you're alright. Are you going to go to sleep soon then?" You nod your head. "Here abouts. The race was pretty tiring and you know and just want to be ready for all of the practise Ross will no doubt make us do." Michael laughs at your repsonse, clearly used to his Ross and his intensity. Jenson also snorts at your remark but fortunately enough, Michael must not hear him over his laugher. You walk the Brit slightly, makinghim quietly grunt at the impact. "Well keep youreslf rested. And see you tomorrow." You give the older man that has become not only your mentor, but near family a soft smile. "Night, Schumi and tell Corinna and the kids I said hi." Michael smiles and walks a few steps and then lingers. "Y/N?" "Yeah?" "Don't stay up too late hm?" You sharply inhale. "What do yo-" You cut yourself off ad you see Michael's knowing look. You go to string together a coherent thought to respond but he beats you to it. "I've been there once too. Just make sure you get some rest, it's the most important thing. The both of you." You feel your cheeks warm and you look down in embarrassment as the German bids you goodnight once more and finally leaves.

You step back and gently click the door closed. Suddenly, you feel warmth around your waist. Jenson enveloped you in his arms and you hum. "He's a perceptive one." You chuckle slightly and Jenson begins to leave open mouthed kisses on the expanse of your neck. "Yeah- well I suppose you don't get 7 world championships for nothing." Jenson pauses and meets your eyes with yet another grin. "Yeah, well I'd be well on my way if there wasn't such a gorgeous distraction on track." You roll your eyes but let yourself grin this time. "Don't be rude Jense, there are far nicer ways to talk about Fernando."

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Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @thatgirlmj

[mentally-a-slut]

Can I request "The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop." For Gale with female reader please?

Ahhhhh tysm for requesting! You are my first request! Since you didn't give any specifics about the time frame, I just assumed you wanted it to take place within the events of the game, but it didn't really matter anyway. The reader is left undescribed, though it is implied that she is shorter than Gale. I hope I did your request justice, and let me know what you think!

Prompt: "The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop."

Rating: E

Warnings: I got carried away and made "spicy" into straight up smut... oops? oral (f!receiving), porn with very little plot, smut

Flirting with Gale was a dangerous game. The back and forth we had going on had been constant, never pausing. I loved bantering with him, but the consistent pull back was beginning to kill me.

Harmless flirts with friends are fun, but I had made it abundantly clear to the wizard that it was more than just friendly banter. And as far as I'm concerned, he's been returning that same energy. And yet, every time we get past the line of flirtatious remarks and balance on the edge of action, he would completely pull away. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was afraid of intimacy.

At first I thought he just didn't like me that way, only wanted to banter with nothing coming of it. But something in the way his eyes glittered when he looked at me told me my attraction was not one sided.

When I went to the others for advice, they gave me jack shit. Astarion thought it was hilarious that I was asking him for romantic advice. I had to threaten to cut off his blood supply just to get him to quite yelling about it. Karlach just told me to "fuck it out," whatever that means. Shadowheart just kind of stared at me blankly. I didn't even bother asking Lae'zel, because I value my life. Wyll had good intentions, but he ended up rambling on about proper courtship methods and respectfully, I couldn't care less.

I had exhausted all of my options, which left me with the one thing I had been avoiding: talk to Gale about it.

It was a cool night, a nice change from the overwhelming heat that had layered over our group the last few nights. The day had been uneventful for once, little more than a few ambushes along the roads and some cackling hyenas. The mood around camp was significantly light than usual, everyone content with the lack of carnage.

I didn't give myself much time to rethink my actions, deciding to force myself into the conversation before I could chicken out.

Gale sat in his tent, reading a book with the doors pinned open for anyone to enter. He always stayed awake later than the others, often waiting until everyone else had closed their tents for the night to follow suit. He thought nobody noticed, but it was one of the many things that made me gravitate towards him. He was so naturally protective, unknowingly watching out for everyone.

As always, I took a moment to admire him before he noticed my presence. He looked so calm, contently scanning the pages of the tome in his hands. His everlasting yearning for knowledge was something I couldn't help but admire. I watched as his fingers curled under the parchment of the book and gently flipped the page, hands calloused from years of magical studies.

Gods, his hands that were so veiny and strong, rough but gentle, perfect to glide across my skin and make me shiver with-

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

I jumped at the sound of his voice, my thoughts that had previously consumed me dissipating. My face felt hot, blushing as if he was able to read my runaway thoughts. "Hi!"

I internally scolded myself for how not-smooth I was being. He carefully marked his place in the book before setting it aside, still seated in his chair as he looked up at me expectantly. His lips twitched into an amused smirk. Handsome bastard knows exactly what he does to me.

"Did you need something from me?"

I tilted my head at his question, blinking as my thoughts grew a mind of their own. I need you to kiss me until I can't breath. Touch me all over and make me shake with pleasure. I shook my head, gathering my thoughts before saying: "Just... wanted to talk to you about something."

He raised an eyebrow, an action that would have had me down on my knees if I had even just a tad bit less dignity. "Is it... a good something, or a bad something?"

My heart started racing in my chest, blood rushing in my ears. "Uhm... well, I suppose it depends. I think it's a good something, but, well, I can't speak for you..."

He stood from his seat, his movements quick but not aggressive. He always took care to control his actions, never making them seem offensive or startling. My eyes widened slightly when he reached behind me to unpin the tent flaps and let them fall closed, his frame slightly hovering over me for a moment as he did so.

His expression was open, concern and care written all over his face. "You can always talk to me. I'm here to listen."

Good gods I want to suck his dick until his brain explodes.

I cleared my throat and shifted nervously, looking up at him. "Right! So, I just... well, I was talking to the others about- actually that's not a good place to start, uhm..."

His amused smirk didn't go unnoticed. He had always liked when I got nervous, especially if he was the reason. "Take your time, darling."

Fucking Hells, he is trying to kill me.

I fought the urge to avert my gaze, forcing myself to keep eye contact. "Uhm, so, you know how we... well, obviously you know, but I mean- Fuck's sake, I mean to say, you know how we, like, flirt?"

His expression didn't falter, smirk growing into a knowing grin. He hummed an acknowledgement that sent vibration through my body, making my heart race even faster. His gaze flickered over my face, then quickly swept down my body, almost fast enough to miss.

"Well, I- Not that I don't like it, I love it! I- I mean, I don't want it to stop I just- Gods damnit, I just wanted to ask- shit... Why don't you just fucking kiss me already?!"

The silence that followed my stuttering words was overwhelming, blanketing over me and making me want to melt away into the earth to never be seen again. My embarrassment only worsened when I heard the slightest chuckle from the man in front of me. My heart dropped as every worst case scenario ran through my head.

He's going to laugh at me, tell me it was just for fun, that he would never want to be with me, he's going to make fun of me to everyone else-

"The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I would be able to stop."

I was suddenly aware of how hot it was in the close quarters of the canvas tent, and how Gale was only a few inches in front of me. I brought my eyes up to meet his, blinking rapidly as I tried to process what he just said. His stare held mine, a underlying air of vulnerability in his confession. With a shaky breath, I managed to utter out my response.

"Who said you had to stop?"

His lips crashed against mine within seconds of my hushed words, heated kiss melding our lips together. His hands, his gorgeous hands that I had spent weeks fantasizing about, were gripping my waist and pulling my body flush against his. My mouth moved in sync with his so naturally, so smoothly, that we could have been made for each other.

When I realized my hands were idle, I quickly remedied it and wrapped my arms around his neck. I didn't even notice I was tangling my fingers in his hair until I tugged lightly and was rewarded with a soft groan against my lips. The noise spurred me on, and I nipped at his lip lightly. Soon, our tongues were wildly clashing together, breathing heavy as involuntary sounds of pleasure were exchanged within the kiss.

I yelped when he suddenly lifted me off the ground, hands firmly gripping my ass as he held me. I held onto him, giggling into the kiss as he pressed against me. The stiffness of his arousal against my thigh was enough to make me shiver with anticipation, and he noticed.

He pulled away from my lips reluctantly, settling his forehead against mine. "As much as I want to do this," he glanced down at our positioning, my core level with his growing erection, "I want our first time to be something special."

I tried not to show my disappointment, silently nodding as I prepared myself to drop back onto the floor. As I loosened my thighs from his waist, I squeaked in surprise when his hands roughly squeezed my ass. "Ah ah, I didn't say I was doing to leave you wanting, did I?"

My cheeks reddened as I realized what he was implying. "Oh, Gale, you don't have to-"

"I want to. Trust me, I really, really want to."

His words were drawn out, almost a moan as he pleaded. His darkened eyes were practically begging. "I... If you're sure-"

He cut me off with a searing kiss, turning us around and laying me down on his bedroll. My whole body tingled with excitement as his body hovered over mine, lips desperately kissing down my neck. With the way he was panting as he nipped and kissed down my body, I could almost say he was more excited then me.

His stare was piercing as he looked up from my waist, silently asking for permission. I couldn't help but smile as his fingers grazed the waistband of my pants, impatiently fidgeting with the fabric. "Yes, please, Gale."

He all but tore them off, taking both my pants and underwear off in one go. His hot breath tickled my arousal, and I sighed as his hands lightly caressed the insides of my thighs. His touches were gentle, slow movements spreading open my legs and bearing my glistening entrance to him. I tilted my head up to look down at him, only to find his gaze transfixed between my legs. He practically whimpered his next words: "So fucking pretty for me."

I couldn't help but moan at his words, the heat of his breath ghosting over my clit. His eyes broke away for a moment to look at me, and he gave me a smile that made my heart swell before he dove in.

His beard rubbed against my thighs as his lips and tongue explored my cunt, the burn of his jaw emphasizing the blinding pleasure of his mouth. He moaned against me as he licked a long stripe along my folds, the teasing sensation sending a jolt of want through me. Before I could beg for more, his lips wrapped around my clit, sucking gently as he teased a finger at my entrance.

All coherent thought was left behind, all I could think about was Gale, Gale eating my pussy, moaning into me, rutting into the air as he pleasured me. "Fuck, Gale, please!"

He hummed against me, the vibration adding to the pleasure. He slipped a finger into my dripping hole, pulling his mouth away from my clit to look up at me. "Look at you, darling, so wet and ready for me."

I moaned as he pumped his finger, keeping eye contact with him. When he teased a second one, I couldn't stop my head from falling back with a moan. "Please!"

With a soft groan, he did as I asked. "As you wish."

The stretch of his second finger burned deliciously, his pace torturously slow. My walls pulsed around him, the softest parts of me jolting as he brushed against them. His thumb brushed against my clit as he quickened his pace. I reached out a shaky hand, tangling my fingers in his soft hair and tugging him forward.

He moaned at the tug, immediately replacing his thumb with his mouth. My back arched off the bedroll as he sucked harshly, his fingers brushing against all the right spots. He teased another finger, and my grip in his hair harshened. It must have encouraged him, because he soon plunged a third finger inside of me and relentlessly flicked his tongue over my clit as he finger fucked me.

My thighs began to constrict around him, orgasm fast approaching. He groaned against my cunt, gripping my thighs open and speeding up. "Fuck, I'm close!"

Another hum against me had my walls pulsating, orgasm crashing through me as he coaxed me down with his tongue sending overwhelming jolts of pleasure through me.

He gently removed his fingers, caressing my thigh as he swept his tongue through my folds, gathering my arousal. His gentle movements soothed me through the slight overstimulation as he cleaned me up with his tongue. My vision was unfocused, aftershocks still rolling through my body as he finally pulled away, slowly kissing up my body before planting a sweet kiss on my lips. I chased his kiss as he pulled back, and he chuckled as I pouted. "You did so well for me, love."

I whined at his words, desperately clawing him towards me and pulling him into a slow, sensual kiss. His clothed erection prodded my bare thigh, and he groaned when I shifted against it. "Don't tease me, darling."

I smiled up at him, tilting my head. "Is that a threat?"

He gave an amused hum against the skin of my neck, speaking between soft kisses. His words were teasing, yet heavy with intention.

"It's a promise."

[lskisms]

You asked for ghost requests?

I got an idea for Phantom cause from the clips I've seen. He's like a high-energy puppy.

Relaxing with his partner after a concert, and he's sleepy as he comes down from the high of performing or he still has unspent energy leftover. So two options: soft sleepy smexy times or doing it to release the rest of his energy. Feel free to choose either one.

can attest to the puppy energy !! he was all over the stage in austin and it was the cutest thing i’ve ever seen actually i was giggling at the barricade like a little schoolgirl

anyways bc phantom is SOOOO my baby why not both

sleepy and soft.

say he comes back to the hotel room and once he’s freshly showered, he’s got you in his arms, relaxed in bed and chatting about anything that comes to mind. the adrenaline, all that octane, has burned through him and smothered itself out, but still, he has this urgent need to feel you entirely. he kisses you soft and slow, pressing you back into the plush pillows. when he moves to kiss you neck, little fangs dragging lightning across your skin, you try to tell him he just showered, so he shouldn’t work up another sweat. he doesn’t listen to you, of course, just nips at the junction between your shoulder and neck, the soft skin pricking hotly, and whispers that he needs you.

and because you’ve always been weak to him, you let him shimmy you out of your pajamas and take you as he pleases. his hips roll against yours deliciously, agonizingly slow, but each press of his cock against that spot inside you that only he knows how to get to makes it worth it. his mouth is everywhere, muttering praises into your skin and swallowing up each noise of yours that dares to rise abovea soft moan. he makes sure you come first, as he always does, and his release follows just seconds after. his body eases into yours, skin against skin, breaths mingling between you. he refuses to pull out of you for quite sometime, but you don't complain (you never complain) because he fills you in ways undescribable, an otherworldly feeling of completion.

but he is thoroughly exhausted, sleepiness settling heavy into his very bones. he does get up eventually to clean you up and redress you, but each motion is slow-going, syrupy and languid and perfect. he takes you into his arms again the second he's back in bed, whispers of love confessions falling on deaf ears as you let the remnants of his warmth inside you lull you to sleep.

pent-up.

he doesn't bother to shed his clothes or shower first, doesn't even bother to kick off his shoes. the second he sees you in the hotel room, he's getting himself out of the offending mask and sealing you in a kiss that is all teeth and tongue and spit. it's a way you have him often, messy and fumbling, but that always drives the experience of letting him have you from perfect to life-altering.

he barely gets himself out of his boots, his pants, or even you out of your own clothes, soaked with the sweat of yourself and the people you'd been with in the pit that night, crushed against the barricade. he gets you on all fours on the bed and slips inside without much of a fight, his cock straining against the slick of your walls. the pace he sets is brutal and it has you keening loudly; you're certain you'll have a noise complaint before he's even halfway decided to be done using you tonight.

his hands press bruises into your skin, claws digging deep into the plush of everywhere he can reach. the bite of each pinprick has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, a delicious haze filling your head until all you can think of is his name and the earth-shattering way his hips drive into your ass. he pulls you up by the back of your neck, tongue sliding against the shell of your ear as he asks you who your body belongs to, who gets to use it as they please (it's yours, phantom. all yours, comes your reply, each syllable broken and stuttered). and when he's content with your answers, he pushes you down into the mattress, his hand pressing your back into a perfect arch just for him.

he overstimulates you, focused on nobody's pleasure, just on getting that livewire of energy out of himself. you're lucky he doesn't make you count how many times you come because you lose count after three. and when his rutting finally comes to an end, it's almost as agonizing to not have him inside of you as it is for him to keep fucking you. you're so limp and foggy that it makes him giggle hazily himself, proud to have been the progenitor of your undoing.

he'll do it again after the next concert too, he tells you, so don't worry your pretty little head. he knows how much you adore being brainless for him and it'd be awfully despicable of him to deny you that pleasure.

[dreeki]

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ dance jam.

pairing: dancer!ni-ki x dancer!y/n

syn: y/n is new to the dance studio known for being the home of nishimura riki's dance team and goes there with no crazy expectations. nishimura riki has other plans.

warnings: none(?)

note: eng is not my 1st language, not proofread // ni-ki is both a dancer and a seasonal dance teacher assistant :]

+note: this is heavily inspired by my life and the things that have happened during some of my dance classes ^^

wc: 1.1k

☆ you anxiously woke up at 9am the morning of your first dance class at ni-ki's studio. it was a scary feeling to think that you would have to begin again, even with 10 years of experience under your belt. you were starting to outgrow your old dance studio; even with some great teachers, they were used to only teaching younger kids and you had just recently turned 18, making you unfit for the studio anymore.

luckily, you had been following nishimura riki, the greatest dancer you have seen, for some time and knew that the studio he went to was also open to older students, since he was only a few months older than you.

this seemed to be a great opportunity; in the past, you had wanted to go to his studio before but something, maybe fear, kept you from going.

the 2h class only started at 6pm, so you spent your morning and lunch fidgeting and pacing around the house like a madman. when it was time to get ready, you just picked a pair of sweatpants you had on your desk chair and a freshly washed baggy t-shirt. you packed your dance bag and made sure you didn't forget your water bottle and the black converse you were to change into before class.

once you arrived at the foreign building, you tried your best to go to the right practice room. after walking around the building for a good 3 minutes, you saw a group of teenagers around the same age as you huddled up at one of the rooms' doors. inside you could see through the glass door riki preparing the room for your class.

standing in between the unknown faces of the strangers that shared the same interest as you was a very awkward feeling. you wished to be a bit more open but it was just too hard. maybe once you start dancing it will be better; you've been told many times that you become a different person when you're on stage or dancing, so that calmed you down a bit.

the first thing you and the other students did, along with the teacher and riki, was to warm up really well. that's when you started to feel more at home. after that, the tall boy had to demonstrate the choreography you were about to learn in the following hour. watching his videos online was one thing, but seeing him so close and in his element felt like winning the lottery. it was almost an undescribeable sentiment; he looked so cool and charming while dancing and anybody noticing the way your eyes sparkle watching him smoothly move his body could tell you truly admired the boy.

now it was your turn to learn the combination of moves riki has previously showed the class. usually, you were a quick learner when it came to dance, but there was one certain move that you couldn't quite get. the teacher gave you a small break to take a breather and drink some water after she told everybody that if they have any questions you were free to ask her assistant.

suddenly, a small crowd of people was formed around ni-ki, so you waited a few steps further to ask your question. without meaning to, you heard the conversations started with the boy. "can we take a picture?" "can you sign this for me, please?" "would you be able to follow me back?" and so on.. that was until he let out a frustrates sigh and asked loudly if anybody had any questions related to the dance. "my moment to shine" you thought and stepped closer to ni-ki.

"hi.." you said quieter than you wanted to. the boy simply nodded waiting for you to continue. "i'm having trouble with this one move; i'm not sure what the timing is for it. could you please show me again?" the boy's gaze was so intense while you were speaking, maybe because he had a hard time hearing what you were saying over all the noise, but one thing you knew was that the stare made your heart race. "yess, of course! here, pay attention" and that's exactly what you did. "thank you so so much!!" "no problem!" and so, you returned to your place in the back with the whole choreography learned.

it took awhile for the rest of the dancers to memorize the entire dance and you were patient, as usual.

finally, it was time to be put into groups and for one lucky person to do the combo with the teacher and riki. some people don't get chosen at all, since there's too many people and too little time and that is what you thought your fate would be. but, ohh, how wrong you were. "now for the person that gets to dance with me and the amazing teacher we have here.."

ni-ki carefully scanned the place for the face he was looking for. following his gaze, you almost passed out when out of nowhere his eyes landed on you and the two of you made eye contact. "you!" what?! you looked around but everybody was just looking back at you. "yes, you!" it was the teachers time to speak. "riki and i decided you really compliment our dance style and we really love your fluidity!" wow.. you were ecstatic to hear that, especially since it was your first class after leaving your studio.

the recording went by in a flash and there you were now, checking to see if it was a good take. you were very satisfied with it, so that was your first and final take. after everybody else was done with their groups, the dancers listened to a few final remarks that were said and soon, you were all dismissed.

pleased with your performance that evening, you were heading to the changing room when all of a sudden someone grabbed your wrist in an attempt to stop you in your tracks. startled, you turned around, shocked to be met with the tall, charming figure of your favourite dancer, the one and only, nishimura riki.

"heyy!" he said in a tone meant to mask his nerves, but you could tell he was a bit hesitant for some reason. "hi.." you anxiously replied, thinking that maybe you had done something wrong during the class. "i was wondering.. are you interested in joining my team? i carefully watched you today and, i have to say, i really like your style and the way you prepare for a performance!" you looked at him in shock.

"oh wow.. are you serio- really?" "mhm!" he nodded cheerfully. "oh my god.. this is crazy but yes. yes it would be an honour to be part of your team!" "thank god!" ni-ki exhaled relaxed, as if he had passed the hardest exam of his life. "i was really scared you would refuse; a dancer like you must have many teams wanting to scout you" "you would be surprised to find out that i am actually on my own right now!" you laughed. "not anymore!" ni-ki brightly smiled at you.

who knew that this one singular class could change your whole life...

a/n: tysm for reading this fic!! 🫶 let me know your thoughts about it in the comments! if you liked it, likes and reblogs are much appreciated ☺️

[asirensrage]

Lovestruck

Title: Lovestruck Rating: Mature Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Pairing: Mitsuya Takashi x Undescribed!Reader Warnings: Non-descriptive smut? Nothing explicit. Confessions. Alluded semi-public sex. Mostly from his pov. Word count: ~1600 Summary: You're pretty sure Mitsuya treats you with polite indifference. He thinks that's how you treat him. Turns out you're both wrong.

Notes: Written for @enchantedforest-network's Sundress Season. I didn't quite go into as much detail as I initially planned but I like how it turned out. I hope you do too. Shoutout to @awkwardchick87 for the help in this!

You’ve known Mitsuya for years. Sort of. 

The two of you have been dancing on the outskirts of your respective friend groups. You’re acquaintances more than anything, but that doesn’t stop the crush you have. Most of the girls who knew Mitsuya liked him in one way or another. He was sweet, determined and creative. It was a hard combination to resist.

You don’t sew, never had much skill with anything in the semblance of a needle, but your friend is a part of the club that Mitsuya leads and you’ve been used as a model for her designs more often than not. Standing in the room as she measures and adjusts has left you on pretty good terms with him. He’s polite, always trying to engage you in conversation to help keep you relaxed before one of the girls calls him for help. 

So you don’t expect his reaction when he sees you this time. 

🪡

He walks into the room and stops, stunned at the sight of you. In all the times he’s seen you, tried to talk to you to learn everything he could, he’s never seen you like this. You’re standing to the side, waiting patiently as your friend is doing…something. He doesn’t even know. He can’t take his eyes off of you. The shape of your legs, the exposed skin…his mouth goes dry. He’s wanted you for so long, since the day he met you and you smiled so sweetly at him, but you’ve never given him more than what felt like polite disinterest. And he’s tried. He’s tried to talk to you but the others in the club keep calling for his attention and he never gets the chance to run into you outside of these walls. Now you’re standing there, looking like something out of his dreams and all he wants is to take you home, to find out what you taste like and what sort of sounds you’ll make when he does. 

“Wha-” his voice cracks and he laughs, rubbing the back of his head as he tries not to flush in embarrassment. “What are you doing?”

You smile brightly at him. “Hi Mitsuya! Sorry for intruding. I just stopped by for the last measurement.” 

He blinks, breath catching in his throat at the way you smile. “Of course! Do…do you need help?” He swallows tightly, waiting in anticipation. The thought of being able to help, to touch your skin…he coughs, trying to get the image of his sliding his hand up under your skirt out of his head.

“I’m just about done,” your friend answers. They smile at you. “Thanks for your help.”

“Always,” you say, grinning back. You hop off the chair and Mitsuya has to force himself to drop his eyes as your skirt flies up with the motion. “Whoops,” you shove your skirt down and laugh it off, as if you’re not tempting him. He’s beginning to even wonder if you see him as a man. Maybe you just like torturing him. 

He watches as your friend finishes marking down the measurements and you hover as you get ready to leave with them. His words feel caught in his throat. “Wa-wait!”

You pause as you’re walking to the door. “Hmm?”

“Can I talk to you for a moment?”

You look to your friend. “I can wait outside,” you tell them.

“Not them, you. Please.” 

You blink in surprise but nod, smiling at your friend and telling them you’ll catch up with them later. Your friend leaves and you turn to him, waiting patiently. He steps forward. 

“If I’m keeping you, please…let me know. You can go.” 

“I don’t have plans. It’s okay.” You turn towards him, hands behind your back which really just makes your chest press out more. You have to be aware of this, of what you’re doing to him. He bites the inside of his cheek. 

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” he says carefully, “and if I’m overstepping, please tell me but I need to know…do I have a chance with you?”

You blink at him in surprise. “What?” 

He steps closer. “Do I have a chance with you?” he repeats. “Every time you’re in this room, it drives me crazy. I’ve tried, over and over, to get closer to you only for it to feel as if I keep getting torn away by my own faults and I can’t–” he swallows tightly. “I don’t know if you’re seeing anyone, but I can’t stay quiet anymore. Not when you’re haunting my dreams and my inspiration.”

He watches as your mouth falls open in surprise. “I…wait, you like me?” you ask, looking around as if you expect your friends to jump out playing an elaborate joke on you. 

Mitsuya can’t stop himself from moving closer, from reaching for your cheek only to pause. “Very much,” he agrees. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” He meets your eyes with his own. “Please. If you’re already involved with someone, put me out of my misery. Tell me. I will retreat…but I need to know if there’s a chance. If you find me at all attractive or interesting enough to let me take you out.” 

“I…” You look stunned.

“I have been dreaming of touching you…kissing you…” he admits, his face heating in embarrassment at how much he’s sharing. “I’m sorry.”

“Then kiss me,” you cut in. 

It’s his turn to look at you in surprise. “What?”

You look like you’re trying not to grin back at him, eyes not meeting his. “You can kiss me…if you want.”

He cups your cheek gently, inhaling sharply at the feeling of your soft skin against the calluses of his fingers and palm. He tilts your head up slightly to look at him. “Are you sure?”

“You’re not the only one who’s been daydreaming, Mitsu-”

He kisses you. His lips press against yours softly, swallowing the rest of your words. You don’t taste as divine as he dreamed but you taste human - real. It reminds him that this is actually happening. He breaks the kiss to let you both catch your breath, to give you a chance to stop him if you want, but you look up at him with those half-lidded eyes and all he can do is claim your mouth again. 

🪡

It’s a blur how they got to this moment. 

He confessed. Finally, he admitted to you everything he had been feeling and despite all of his fears, you confessed back. To him. And now he has you sitting on one of the desks, the skirt of your dress hiked up as he stands between your legs. You’re perfect. 

He kisses your neck, sucking marks into it as he murmurs praise. His hand slides up your thigh, his callused palm feeling like it’s burning against your soft skin.

"Fuck…," you breathe, "Mitsu-" 

"Let me hear you say my name," he murmurs against your skin. He needs to know what it sounds like. "Let me hear you say my name. Properly." He rolls his hips into yours, wanting more and trying desperately not to push you too far. "Come on, precious. Say it." 

"Ta-Takashi.." 

He groans. He digs his fingers in a little more, tightening his grip. “Again.”

“Takas-” he kisses you hard. It’s the best thing he’s ever heard in his life and he thinks he might break if you say it too often. He wants you to repeat it, over and over, until it’s the only thing you remember how to say. He wants the memory of him burned into you, just like you’re burned into him. 

You lean your head back, giving him more access to mark your throat before you guide his hand higher. Mitsuya has never really believed in anything other than the results of hard work, but in this moment he thinks he’s been blessed. To touch you like this is a dream and hearing the sounds you make is nearly enough to break him. The fact that he can make you feel this good is enough. 

You hook a leg around his waist, pulling him closer and Mitsuya groans against your skin. He can’t stop the way he presses his hips into yours, sliding the skirt of your dress higher as moving his hand between your legs. 

He leans forward, kissing the spot between your neck and shoulder just so he’s closer, so he can memorize every sound you make as he touches you. He thinks he might be in love with every gasp, moan and whimper you make, with the way you keen for him as you arch with pleasure.

“Mi-Takashi–” you try to whisper, tapping his shoulder. 

He doesn’t want to pull away, to stop, but he does. He looks at you, at your swollen lips and half-lidded eyes, and thinks to himself that you’ve never been more beautiful. “Hmm?”

“We…we should stop,” you say softly, catching your breath. 

He moves his hand from between your legs, listening as you whimper at the loss. “Do you want to stop?” He asks, watching your face carefully. 

“I…no,” you admit softly. “But we’re in the club room. What if someone walks in?”

“Ah.” He brushes his nose across your cheek. “We did get a bit carried away…but do you want to stop?”

You shake your head and Mitsuya can’t resist kissing you again. Especially when you open up so nicely for him, cradling him between your thighs. 

He kneels before you, sliding his hands up your legs. “Then let them come,” he whispers before he ducks under the skirt of his new favourite dress of yours. 

“Taka-!”

🪡 🪡 🪡 🪡 🪡 🪡

everything tag: @raith-way @zeleniafic @veetlegeuse  @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse

@themaradwrites @kingsmakers @thatmagickjuju @awkwardchick87

tr tag: @mitsuwuyaa @blackfire2013 @bleach-your-panties

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Poets and Painters (Midday) - Wolffe x Reader [Mature Fic]

Warnings and Information: In desperate need of just one day to take his and his men's mind off the war, Plo Koon orders that everyone make a stop on a relatively uninhabited planet in a peaceful sector of the galaxy to… have a picnic? Just what does he have in mind? A certain flint-gray Commander is finding it hard to believe that they're just on the planet for a day of R&R in the middle of a war, so he isn't letting his guard down. Perhaps someone will help Commander Wolffe find some way to help him relax before the day is over… 2nd person POV. Reader is undescribed save for minor details like personal touches to a uniform, and has a gender-neutral alias. Allusions to canon-typical violence, mention of injury and loss, and Plo just being a dad to the 104th Battalion in the background. Swearing. Discussion of more adult themes and some lewd jokes the more the fic progresses (this is not an Explicit fic but it is Mature; Minors please DNI). Takes place on a fictional planet.

Word count: 4,665

Midday

The trick to keeping Commander Wolffe from prowling the edge of the clearing like a caged animal had been surprising. To everyone. 

Allowing him to watch you work keeps him seated on the hill beside you, where he does not worry his brothers or Master Plo Koon by continuing to make lap after lap. He had left your side once, to take a look at something the Clone pilot Warthog had to show him, and then did a little shiny-wrangling (namely Soapsuds) because they were too close to the forest for his comfort, but he was quick to return. 

He's not much of a conversational partner, whether that's out of respect for you to let you concentrate, or simply a product of his personality. When he has something to say, Wolffe keeps it brief. 

"I'm not that pale." 

"But your scar is." you reply with a gentle smile and a soft laugh, carefully adding traces of a lighter flesh-tone to the vertical stripe of scar tissue in your sketching of the Commander. You keep your pressure light on the page, and make your best efforts to keep the strokes in roughly the same orientation. The smile gives way to a frown the longer you fill in the length of his scar on the page. Your heart hurts for what happened to him at the hands of a dark Force-wielder. What her blade did to him. "I imagine it was quite painful, to lose your eye…" 

"Yes." Wolffe replies in a clipped voice, suggesting to you that while he does not want to dismiss your sympathies, he clearly must not want to talk about this with someone he does not know, either. You feel a tug on the lapel of your uniform, and the gloved pad of his thumb brushes over something. Oh. You'd forgotten about that. "You added a wolf's head into your uniform, Arcadia?" He's changing the subject. And that's okay. 

That's more than okay. 

Glancing down best you can, you see the sloppy replication the flint-gray Commander refers to. The thread used for the head is a steely gray, the stitches are almost invisible and camouflaged in the color of the uniform, save for the eyes in your favorite color. It was meant to be practice for repairing holes in your clothing, you explain. "For emergency situations. I wanted to see if my stitches would hold up after being washed. I completely forgot it was there." You don't explain why you went with the image of a wolf. You won't need to, in his presence.

It's easy enough to guess why this would be the animal, of all possible choices available to you in this galaxy, you would stitch into your lapel. The name surrounds you. Wolfpack. General Plo's callsign is Wolf Leader when they engage in battle by starfighter. 

It is the name of the man next to you - granted it bears an additional forn and an esk. 

Wesk-osk-leth-forn-forn-esk. 

Wolffe. 

"It held up well." he compliments you, releasing the fold of the lapel and assuming his silence once more. Degree by degree, you are seeing he is not eternally gruff or cold with you, or anyone: merely a man made stoic and far more vigilant than before by war. In his vigilance, he continues to visually sweep the field for signs of trouble or mischief. 

Maybe, while he's distracted…

You stealthily swap out the current coloring pencil in your hand - a deeper skin tone - and pluck out the Lamp Black pencil in the mix, drifting your hand lower down the page until the end of the pencil was now lined up with the loosely defined crotch and codpiece of his armor. 

Maker alive let's just get this over with. 

The body glove is going to be innocent enough to fill in, but defining the shadows around the pubic bulge in his kit will be faster. Just keep it quick and be discreet. Work fast. Hope no one sees. Hope no one asks. 

Your pulse screams in your veins when he clears his throat - loudly - next to you, and you are so certain he is now trained on you, and acutely aware of where your pencil is. "Hm-mm…" Oh kriff me sideways. "Excuse me," he apologizes, clearing his throat again softer this time, "didn't mean to startle you, but I was trying to catch Suds' attention." Thank the Maker he didn't look when he apologized. Just a few more marks to finish shading in the codpiece, and then you can start on the body suit. "O-oh. Is he wandering off again?" 

"Looked like he was about to." 

Still breathing down their necks even from here? "Y'know-"

"As their Commander I am going to look out for my brothers, Arcadia." He sounds neither happy or unhappy with what he assumed you would say. And it's fair of him to assume that, in a sense. You only wish he didn't have to feel so defensive. 

"I understand that," you promise him, and for the moment, you set down the pencil in your hand so you are not dividing your attention between the artwork and Wolffe. "and I wasn't telling you to stop, either. I only wanted to warn you that, I think, General Plo Koon seems worried about you, that something is keeping you from enjoying yourself." 

To his credit, he gives your words a moment of quiet contemplation. Whether that's to consider the truth behind the words you said, or to come up with an explanation of sorts, Wolffe remains silent and still like the forest that surrounds you on all sides. What secrets does that forest hold? What lives within? 

What will you find other than sap and blood on your palms when you pull back the thorny branches? 

"I don't believe we're here just to relax for a day." Commander Wolffe admits with a heavy look of guilt and uncertainty. "I think the General has other reasons for bringing us to Little Archossi, and he won't tell us." 

"Reasons? Like what?" You pick the pencil back up, and return to the slow, gradual task of adding color to the page. You're going to give him time to think. Time to answer, if he even wants to. He may not. Warning him that he's possibly made his General concerned about him seems to shake him down, somewhat. "I'm sorry." 

It's reflexive, apologizing for upsetting him. That seems to pull him out of his silence, for the moment. "Don't be, Arcadia. I'm not going to fault you for having good intentions. Or a good eye." 

The kri-? 

In dawning horror, you see and fully realize where your pencil lead is. And looking over at him, you see that he does too. "I-I'm so sorry, sir…" You admit that you hoped he wouldn't notice, and that adding the necessary shading and color around areas that carry their shares of suggestive and sexual imagery and connotations would have been completed with as little attention drawn to it as possible. While you're not exactly ashamed to have drawn those parts of him, you feel a bit awkward to have him take notice of your work when you add the color. 

Half of his mouth quirks in a smile, an expression of his respect, understanding that took guts to admit. "That's nothing to apologize for. It's just part of the art, Arcadia. A little "awkward" would only be understandable. Would you feel better if I purposely didn't watch?" 

Well, seeing as how you're almost done with the inner thigh, you don't see much of a point to the gesture in this part of the progress. But, he did offer. And this seems to be what's keeping him seated in the grass. And what's keeping Plo Koon freer to spend less time being concerned about his diligent commander, and more time in showing his troops more aspects of Kel Dor culture and history, it seems. (Orchid keeps asking questions that Tack could easily answer about Dorin, and it serves as a neat little lesson for some of their newer shinnies. Plo is certainly grateful for the curiosity that allows him to be a teacher, rather than a fighter, today.) 

You shrug lazily, laughing softly under your breath. "I'll leave that up to you, sir. At this point…" 

Wolffe chooses to keep an eye on his brothers, so you make the process of shading the inner thighs quick, while being careful not to get sloppy. You're not trying to recreate a master painter's work here in the first page of your sketchbook, but you don't want to look at this one day and become filled with the urge to tear it out because all you can see are glaring imperfections, either. That's nothing but a fanciful daydream of making so much progress in your artistic prowess that you would ever be struck with such a thought, of course. 

You are preoccupied with a war against the Separatists: when would you ever have the chance to make regular progress and impressive strides without backsliding and the natural degradation of your skills when you do not use them? You're a small part of the busy crew that keeps the Triumphant running smoothly. 

People constantly need you. And that's all well and good, but sometimes you find yourself running into the same problem over and over again that crews of this size inevitably face: when you, who provides the help, needs someone, who is there for you? Do you turn to another crewmate who is already up to their neck in all the problems they juggle? Turning to one of the Clone troopers is ill-advised, no matter how much they swear they don't mind lending a hand or an arm (or two) to assist. 

You've been doing fine aboard the Triumphant; better than fine, in fact. But that worry claws at you, sometimes. I'm here to help everyone. But if I needed help, who would I go to?

Who does the Commander go to when he needs help, come to think of it… General Plo? Or maybe Sergeants Sinker and Boost, if the matter was a little closer to the heart, something he believed was best kept between brothers? 

Who does Wolffe turn to in his hours of need, you wonder. 

You need to rest your wrist, and soon. You have just a little more of this tree's canopy to color in though, and then you're calling it good. You've been working on this "sketch" for more than three hours with the Commander at your side. You want to have this done soon. You want to go check out some of these things other crewmates have been laughing themselves silly over for the last hour that leave them gasping and wheezing for breath, clutching their sides and drying their faces. You're burning to know what's so funny, why they keep calling your name to come see. 

Curiously guessing over and over what General Plo's reaction will be when you show him this amateurish endeavor in outdoor art drives you to continue, however. Just a few more tiny, feather-shaped leaves… Wolffe notices the sharp twinge in your face, and the uncomfortable spasm in your fingers as you adjust your grip around the Sunflower coloring pencil. 

"Getting painful?" 

"Just a little." you admit, knowing if you pause now, you will delay when you pick the pencil back. "I'll manage." 

"Making art shouldn't bring you pain, Arcadia." 

You scoff, just slightly. "Physical pain? Agreed. But emotional pain, that's another matter. Don't worry, I'll be done soon, Wolffe." 

He asked you to call him Wolffe a short time ago. It wasn't exactly necessary to call him Commander or Sir all the time if you had him sketched out on your page quite like… that. His legs parted and bent at the knee - flat in the grass out in front of him. Wrist of the left hand resting just on the surface of his thigh, with his hand hanging limp just inches from his groin. You were generous enough to draw his fingers in a more neutral position than how they had looked in reality… Otherwise, if his soldiers and brothers got a hold of the sketchbook, there's no telling how many jokes you'd have to hear about making it look like their Commander was jerkin' it in front of you. 

Calling him "Wolffe" would do just fine when it was just the two of you alone on this hill. Perhaps he felt it was only fair if he was calling you by your name. You had no title or rank, like him. You are just a humble part of the crew, but he assured you no less important than one of the soldiers. 

It takes all of us, he said. That's how we win this war. 

You've come to the home stretch, feeling the ache in your fingers deepen with every tiny skritch and shwoop! as you methodically color in your work leaf by leaf. "Just one last, little leaf," you promise, "and then I'm done." 

"Not going to sign your magnum opus, Arcadia?" Wolffe prods a little teasingly. He's smiling at you now, even. Hours ago, he was somber and battle-ready, no smiles, no nonsense. Now, he's beginning to make small jokes. "Should add a signature so future museums know who to accredit this to." 

"A leaf and then a signature." you chuckle warmly. "Future museum… Honestly." He only offers a shrug in response to that, and you take it to mean well, you never know. "What, you're trying to tell me you think this would honestly end up in a museum gallery one day?" 

He shrugs again, gazing off into the distance, into the forest. "Overheard one of the boys in the mess say something about the notion once. Something they read. Some kind of commemorative effort made by one planet to make sure they never forgot their bloody history by way of art and song and poetry inspired by that time. Evidence of a time best not repeated, but not forgotten either." 

Such an insightful and wise thing to be said so casually, poetically, and yet, there's a weighty truth to every syllable and enunciation. 

We doom ourselves to repeat the past when we do not remember it and do not teach it anymore. When we allow ourselves to forget, the shades of rouge we sop the bristles of our brushes in will not be in the rich scarlets of Dathomir, or the forever-burning rubies of Mustafar, it will instead be with blood. 

When we have enough evidence, it silences the naysayers and the fools. It validates the choking and trembling voices that say I have tasted the bitter blade of war. I have stood before the yawning maw of nothingness it leaves in its wake. I will never be the same. You do not have the right to tell me that I am some kind of paid actor. 

If they were conspiracies, do you not think I would be among the loudest of your prophets who tout these twisted claims in the hopes of converting another?

"Fascinating. Thinking something like that will come of the Clone Wars, Wolffe?" You've finished the drawing, now. Taking an ink pen, you jot down your signature in the tidiest handwriting you can manage in the lower right corner, making note of the date for good measure. You'll think up a creative title for this later. 

There's a third rising and falling of the shoulders from the man sitting beside you. "It's too soon to tell." 

"That's fair." you reply, gathering up your supplies to put them back into the bag for safekeeping. "But you just know, if it does happen, the Separatists aren't gonna like the art." You have faith that the Republic will prevail. How could it not when the soldiers who fight for the Republic are some of the most courageous, persevering people you know? (What will come of them after?) 

You're likely right about that, he agrees with a throaty chuckle. The Separatists will not like losing this war, and they'll like the art even less. "I can only hope… that it will not just be the Jedi who are…" Wolffe grows silent next to you. He's not certain what word he wants to use to best explain his thoughts, he admits plainly. There are too many. Too many answers that are right, but he struggles to find the one thing that is most correct out of all of them. 

Given what Tack has told you, the answer is obvious. "You're hoping that the galaxy will remember the Clones were a part of this conflict too. That the galaxy won't forget the sacrifices made by your brothers, and they won't forget how many lost their lives. You probably hope that when the free peoples of the galaxy remember the Jedi, they remember you, too. Both must be appreciated together."

"You're probably right," Wolffe concedes firstly, "And you're too wise beyond your years, Arcadia." Strangely philosophical, he tells you, for how old he guesses you to be. Maybe he's the right one this time, thinking to yourself on his words. 

Maybe he's not the only one hoping that when this war ends, no matter the outcome, those who served as a part of the Grand Army of the Republic will not be a forgotten topic ten, twenty… even forty or fifty years down the line. 

Tack has made a breakthrough in his mysterious flower just before Master Plo is free to come take a look at the sketch and color work you've completed, and concern for his men takes precedence. You would not blame him in the slightest if he forgot he expressed interest in seeing what you accomplished with art materials given to you as gifts. Because of your station with the crew of the Triumphant with a secondary speciality for risk assessment, you're involved in this discussion with the researcher and his commander and general. 

Right now determining the risks posed to the men of the 104th matters more. Art and philosophical pondering will have to come later.

Tack explains to both Commander Wolffe and Master Plo that he thinks the smatterings of blue flowers that dot this clearing here on Little Archossi are known as Dinocaeruleus anthos. By their common-name, you know that these flowers are a warning. A silent, unassuming danger for all their beauty and silky blue petals. 

Terrible blue flower. 

"You can make toxic honey with these flowers?" Wolffe asks more to himself than Tack, as he reads ahead in the compiled information. Plo is taking his time to read the information on the screen of the datapad in his hands. To make sense of this, the Jedi is being thorough. 

"Poisonous, Sir, more accurately." Tack makes the correction habitually, and Wolffe does not take it personally. He knows that Tack knows what he meant, and given his aptitude for analytics and other such sciences, his researcher is not correcting him to be a smartass. "But, yes, you can make bad honey with these flowers depending on what pollinators you harvest from. They are not wholly dangerous on their own. Eat it, it might make you feel nauseated due to natural bitterants. Touch it to more sensitive dermal surfaces and it will prove a powerful irritant." 

From a short distance away, you hear the voices of Orchid and Soapsuds, Tack's batchmates (you assume), commenting on what the four of you are discussing in the shade of the tree you spent the morning sketching. "So what Tack's saying is don't stick your d-" The speaker finds himself with the other's hand anxiously plastered against his mouth to shut him up in a hurry. "Maker alive, shut up!" Soapsuds warns him, "Orchid, why are you so vulgar?!" 

There is a pointed sigh from Commander Wolffe that is aimed at the two of them. Don't make me come over there. Behave yourselves in front of the General. 

Plo makes no indication that he's noticed the situation occurring just out of reach. You have to imagine he hears Suds and Orchid wrestling with each other in the grass, now, though, and is ignoring it. "Arcadia and Tack, in your opinion, will these be enough cause for concern to consider returning back to the ship?" Plo wonders aloud. The Kel Dor returns the device to the researcher, and folds his hands together in an act of deliberate contemplation, resting them against his stomach. 

Tack looks at you, and you at him, then the Commander. There is a look in his eyes, both the stark silver and the warm vandyke brown, that reads to you as a surrender of control. 

I will carry out your judgment. 

Tack scoffs and shrugs, his arms thrown wide. "Honestly, General? I don't know enough. I'd need more time to determine through more analysis and comparison. This is only one search result for one flower it could possibly be. But it was enough of a match to make me get the Commander while he was talking with Arcadia." Enough of a match to send him into a tizzy over it. Tack had tripped coming up the hill in his haste, trying to ask if - from where he was sitting - the Commander noticed anyone messing with the blue flowers. 

We have a potential problem! had Wolffe on his feet faster than engaging a hyperdrive. And then there was a flurry of questions. Was it contact from the planet's inhabitants? Has someone gotten hurt? Are they needed to assist another battalion? Where's the General? 

He has the look again, now. Worry. The inner anxiety is eating him alive. Tack doesn't know. So what about you? 

"I see…" Master Plo hums. "And what are your feelings, Arcadia? What do you think about the situation?" 

You think. What do you think about this situation? Is it worth double checking the matches for the flower, to make sure that it really is Dinocaeruleus anthos? Are the men really going to be so flippant as to disregard any kind of warning put out about these flowers if they are the Dinocaeruleus, or worse yet, a far more harmful flower? (Not necessarily, but you have to consider that warning the troops that this flower can have detrimental potential invites the opportunity to inflict it.) 

There is one thing that is already clear to you, at least. "Tack should first make sure these flowers are what he thinks they are before we make any kind of advisory, General. That is my opinion." 

Another thoughtful hum. "Interesting. And why is this your opinion, little one?" 

"We should avoid unnecessary panic. Until we know for sure what these flowers are, I say we don't say anything. We invite unnecessary risks by making the men paranoid." you suggest, glancing first at the Jedi, and then the flint-gray Commander to his left. They had every right to accept or disregard your counseling as the commanding forces of this battalion at the day's end; you hope they will consider it at the very least. 

"I'm in agreement."

"Then we will do as Arcadia advised, and we will let young Tack take more time to confirm his findings. Until then…" Plo trails off, nodding decidedly. Thank the Maker. Tack dismisses himself in a hushed, hurried tone. If he's going to spend more time pouring over information on the Dinocaeruleus anthos, he shouldn't dawdle. The Jedi kindly wills the benefits of the Force to guide the researcher before he turns to address you once again. "Have you made use of the gifts given to you since we last spoke?" 

Blinking with a mild start, you realize that Plo has changed the topic. "Oh, yes, I have. Let me go get my sketchbook from my bag, sir." You scoop the entire bag from the grass, re-tucking your datapad among your things as you extract the book and turn it to the necessary page for his convenience. "Here." 

Taking it carefully in his hands, the book is cradled like a priceless relic as his eyes must trace over the page. Once more your property is treated with such care and respect by the Force-wielder. "My… Arcadia, you have quite a gift." 

The action is perhaps more childish than professional, but you cannot help but duck your head at such praise, fearing to meet his gaze should he see how flushed your face is. It is not the heat of the sun above you, denoting that it is now high noon, that makes your face burn. You're never quite sure how to accept a compliment. 

You opt for humility. "Oh, it's hardly that great, General Plo… I wouldn't say I have a gift… just… a-an attention for detail." And that much is true; dedication to detail is why you spent hours on a simple "sketch" to begin with; why you took so much care and effort to get everything done the best you could. The form of Commander Wolffe's armor. The curve of his jaw and the roundness of the ala of his nose. The correct texture of his hair within the typical haircut many of the Clones have. 

But though gentle insistence, the General repeats his sentiment. "Attention for detail is no less of a gift, Arcadia. In war it is a mark of wisdom, in art, it is a skill." A skill that has made for a very fine portrait of the Commander. "Have you seen Arcadia's work yet, Commander Wolffe?" He offers the sketchpad with an invitation to have a closer look, though it isn't necessary. 

"I watched Arcadia add the colors, yes." Wolffe confirms. "Quite the process."

Not to mention a strain on your wrist, but one well worth it for the praise given to you from the Jedi, and now many of the men who have congregated to come and suss out what's going on. "I can only imagine… Even gone through the trouble of adding proper shadows to such… rich color." 

Sinker and Boost smile softly, not quite sadly (but certainly somber), when they take note of the color of paint their commanding officer wears when you allow the book to be passed around so everyone is welcome to have a closer look. They hold it longest out of everyone, looking at this artistic replication a little more closely than most.

"The ol' maroon, eh? Think it's meant to depict another time, before Abregado?" 

"But he's drawn with the scar, Boost."

"Ah, yeah, good eye. Missed that bit." 

You timidly clear your throat to draw their attention, and explain that of all the colors, you didn't have gray. "I didn't want to leave his armor naked, either." Not when you went through the trouble of adding the face of the wolf and the other design to each of his shoulder pads, or the unique shape of his visor when you drew the helmet next to his hip. 

You would not deal him further, small cruelties by stealing the colors out of his coat completely. These markings he has chosen for himself mean something to Wolffe. The color he wears now is a mark of mourning. The color in the pages of your book will serve as an homage. 

You have not forgotten your brothers. You will always carry them with you.

Hmmf. Are you a poet now too, Arcadia?

No sir. Not really. 

You're uncertain where the words came from. Borrowed from something you read once? Did you perhaps hear the General say these words once upon a time? You can't recall what inspired you to say such a thing. 

But you'll remember the change in his gruff exterior, the way in which he was quieter than quiet for just a moment, and he pivoted in the grass to better face you and make you his equal. 

It's only the two of us here on the hill, Arcadia. Call me Wolffe, please. 

Don't have a fic taglist for the time being, but I'll likely start one soon if I can figure out how to make those forms some people have since I write a variety of stuff. For now, though, if you'd like to join a taglist for specific types of fics (example: just TBB-centric or just TCW-centric (or both)) don't hesitate to ask. 🩷

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[Golden Dawn Part 2]

[echoedcrosshairs]

Those Who Fight Together - part 6

Summary: Undescribed Jedi female nicknamed Reaper in 3rd person and angst, decisions and to many drinks 🖤Smut with a Plot🖤

Warning: NSFW, Crude Language, Self Pleasuring (male), tattoos, alcohol

Word Count: 6.1k

Theme: Three Days Grace ~ Last To Know

Part 5 Part 7

Masterlist

If you want the angst of 6.5 let me know

"I spoke to soon," Tech said getting up sprinting off towards your room.

You leaned against the wall, feeling physically sick remember the way he froze up. Hunter got to you, putting his arm around your waist and his head on yours stoking your hair. He was doing his best to try to calm you, hearing your heart race and how pale you looked he knew something bad at had gone bad. He jumped into action when Tech ordered immediately jump to the nearest base. Wrecker picked you up bridal style and sat down with you in lap.

"I got her serge, just get us there," he said noticing Hunter looking back at you a few times.

"You can take me out like that," Crosshair murmured, swiping his finger across your chin and before sitting down.

"He'll be okay," Wrecker said glaring at him, which got an eye roll, "Ignore him he's jealous."

"Please, he's living every man's dream."

Wrecker tightened his hold around you, "Echo will be fine. Tech's really smart."

"Thanks, Wrecker."

Wrecker was big and comforting, both things Crosshair knew he wasn't. He didn't like seeing you in Wreckers arms but knew that was what you needed, comfort. He flicked a toothpick into his mouth and got up to go check on his brothers. He peered in, seeing Echo barely conscious but covered with Tech over him with a bunch of scanners.

Tech's jaw tightened when he saw Crosshair in the door way, "He'll be fine."

"What's with you?" Crosshair said noticing the reaction.

"I know you've never entirely cared about Echo because he is a reg, I don't see a reason for you being here."

"She cares so I do," he sneered sulking off to his bed.

Wrecker rocked you all the way to the base, helping you to your feet once you landed. You did your best to compose yourself when you both exited the ship. All of the troopers stood at attention and nodded as you went past before returning to what they were doing. Tech and Echo were fair ahead of you, anxiety rolling off you that even Wrecker noticed.

"Hey, Echo will be fine," Wrecker repeated, "It's not the first he's short circuited. He'll be back to normal soon enough."

"Doesn't mean I won't worry, you're my squad. The health of each of you is my top priority."

"Well, your slow," Wrecker said picking you up again throwing you over his shoulder.

Your face went bright red, you did your best to cover it but all of the passing troopers gawked and whispered about him man handling his general. You found it adorable but it was still embarrassing, but he got you both really there really fast. You found Echo prompt in a chair with Tech behind him with with his cybernetic implant in his head open, and his eyes staring at you. You sense his relief that you came.

"He can't talk right now" Tech said not looking up.

You knelt in front of Echo feeling the disappointment. You took his hand and the underside of his mechanical arm. He dropped his eyes to his lap but noticed Wrecker watching.

"Echo, it's fine. I'm fine. I'm just worried," you said trying to get him to look up at you, "This doesn't change how I feel so look at me."

You noticed even Tech's eyes flick to you for a moment, "Nothing will change how I feel about any of you. So quit thinking what something so small thing will. I'm just glad you're okay."

"We are all glad you are okay, Echo," Tech said finishing the repair, "That should be it and stop it from happening again but l'll take a look at the program again to see if there was something I overlooked."

"Thank you," Echo said trying to convey the double meaning of for earlier and fixing him.

Tech adjusted his googles, "It was enjoyable."

Wrecker gave them a puzzled look, "His passing out was enjoyable?"

Tech let out a groan, "Obviously, Wrecker," he said sarcastically, "Can you excuse us? Echo and I need to talk about the data of a project," Tech excusing you and Wrecker from the room.

"Come on, we can go explore," you said pulling on Wreckers wrist tugging him from the room.

You both wandered around aimlessly looking for Hunter and Crosshair, but they were nowhere to be found. Wrecker mumbled something about it being weird but wasn't bugged it so you weren't going to be either. Wrecker kept glancing down at you, wanting just to hug you but not sure how you felt about him compared to his brothers but he didn't like the nervous look on your face. He picked you up and put you on his shoulders.

"Feeling tall?" He said laughing, "So how was it with Echo? Most have been kind of painful since he's part droid."

"Wrecker!" You exclaimed but you knew Wrecker didn't have a filter and said what was on his mind, "It surprised me but it was rather invigorating to try something different."

"So between them who's been your favorite?"

"I don't know, I'm trying not to pick favorites."

"That makes sense," he said pausing to think, "Don't want to cause rivalry between us."

"How do you feel about it?"

"I think as long as everyone's happy that's what matters," he said his grip tightening on you.

"Are you happy?"

"-" he started to open his mouth for Hunter and Crosshair to be glaring at him and you up on his shoulders.

"Put her down, everyone is staring."

He grabbed your thighs and pulled you over his head and set you on the ground in front of him, his lip pouting "Awe, we were having fun."

You folded your arms with an obvious attempt to pout face, Crosshair rolled his eyes. His fingers crawling their way up the back of your neck and tangling themselves in it, pulling your ear to his mouth.

"Did you have fun breaking Echo because all of us could hear it," it came out more as a statement then a question laced with a tone of jealousy, but he kissed your temple letting you go.

"How is he?" Hunter asked.

"He's fine, Tech finished the repairs and is just looking over the programming again to prevent it from happening again."

"You look beautiful," Hunter mumbled, you took hand wrapping it around your waist regardless of the stars.

"I look way better with you boys on me," you smirked taking Crosshairs hand.

It had to be quiet an scene, Hunter on your right, Crosshair on your left and you saw Wrecker smirking behind you. You smiled, feeling the the luckiest girl alive. You guys walked back where Echo and Tech were still, Tech rapidly typing on his pad. Tech's jaw floored itself the moment he saw you guys walking in.

"That's one way to tell everyone," he said picking it up and closing his mouth.

"Regs were eyeing her," Crosshair grinned, "had to show them she was spoken for."

"We're all going to die," Echo groaned standing up and stretching his neck.

"Decommissioned," Tech muttered, "any day now."

"Worth it," Hunter whispered suggestively into your ear.

"Haha they can try," Wrecker said you felt him step forward pressing himself into your back with a neck crack.

Tech's hand when to get his head and he shook it his head returning his tools to his belt. Hunter let you go to talk quietly with Tech, but Crosshair didn't let your hand go. You felt the worry off of all of them if the end was coming.

Wrecker stepped forwarded lightly massaging your shoulder with one hand, "You don't need to worry about us, we'll handle whatever comes our way."

"Splendid," You heard Tech say sarcastically drawing your attention back to the other three men whispering.

"What is it?" You asked your head towards Crosshair.

A smirk graced the corner of his mouth, "Another bad idea," he said noticing the fresh mark Echo left on you with a small hiss.

Tech and Hunter looked up to see Crosshair pushing back your hair and seeing it too, then they both stared at a smirking Echo. Tech and Hunter looked at eachother, already regretting whatever the idea was.

"We might as well do it too before we go."

"Go where?" You asked.

"We were going to go to 79's and hang out with the pack because we don't have an assignment, and that's definitely going to cause stares," Tech said pointing out the obvious.

"How about we get back to the Maraunder first," Hunter said already heading towards the door.

You smirked with how easily Hunters emotions tried to get the best of him but also keeping it in check. You followed after him, dragging Crosshair and Wrecker by the hands with you back to the ship.

"Thank you again," Echo said to Tech, once you were several paces in front of them.

"It did peak my interest in more ways then one, she obviously enjoyed it," he said paused to cough trying to distract himself from remembering how wet you were, "I will admit I did find it exhilarating. I didn't think it would be something I would be in too."

"We can go over a list later," Echo said laughing.

"A list?" Tech said wide eyed at him.

Once you got back the ship, Hunter pressed the front of you against the wall one hand gripping your hips pinning you there and the other holding your hair out of the way so he could leave his mark on your spine. It took a lot of self control not to press back into him, his mouth was so warm against you. He was tender about it, sucking gently. He pulled off of you giving you a kiss on your forehead before joining Crosshair in a seat. Wrecker stared down at you, flustered and red faced scratched the base of head.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Only if you want too."

Wrecker picked you up and wrapped your legs around his wide armored waist, he was warm and strong as he lifted you. He put one hand on your butt and another one lifting the front of your chin. You moaned once his mouth found the perfect place on the front of your throat. Kriff. You clenched your jaw to keep anything else from slipping out. He pulled back apologizing, but after a little bit of coaxing he returned to it to finish it, you could feel his grip was a little tighter this time. He unwrapped your legs and helped your feet back to the floor. You noticed his face was bright red when he went to go sit down.

It was Tech's turn, he made a mental note that he didn't want see that image ever again. You surprised when he offered you his neck first. You placed a hickey on his throat on the free spot on yours so they could be matching, it was actually an adorable idea. Tech held back barely even breathing when you marked him, but he felt incredibly amused with himself that he was the only one who thought to have them match. Crosshair and Hunter noticed first, both of them groaning.

"I'll give you matching ones, calm down but let's get going," you laughed taking a seat.

Your heart raced, you were excited to see the Pack again and see what trouble you could get into. Would it be a bar fight? Or a stun off? Perhaps who could drink the most disgusting stuff on hand? Who could take the most punches? When the Maraunder go off the ground you were allowed to move around like normal. You gave them each matching marks almost perfectly in the same spot before wandering off back to your room for a nap.

"Tech one upped you," Hunter smirked at Crosshair who was gnawing at his toothpick like it was the only thing he'd eaten that day.

"If we were marking her as our territory, it only made sense to have her do it in turn to further prove the fact. It was obvious. Although it's reception has yet to be known"

"Tech's got a point," Wrecker pointed out.

"Shut up, Wrecker," Crosshair huffed crossing his arms, "I still think this is a bad idea."

"You've thought all of it is a bad idea," Tech countered.

"At least we don't have to worry about finding her with some Reg."

"I'm a reg?" Echo glared at his brother.

Crosshair looked him up and down silently pointing out he was barely human either, "Are you sure about that?".

"Where'd she go anyway?" Wrecker said looking around.

"Probably to the refresher or to nap, I have a feeling it's going to be a long night," Hunter said getting up heading towards the bunks to also nap for the time being leaving, "Speaking of which, Wrecker go shower," He laughed.

Tech's mind drifted off to the possibilities of how the night was going to go, putting additional thoughts on the best ways to get out of the building need be but after his talk with Echo about how the programming felt his mind was even more busy, he hoped he wasn't keeping you awake. Tech realized he may be more inquisitive then he thought realizing he wanted to know the answers to everything in the things he previously thought he didn't need the answers too.

Echo's mind was somewhere between acceptance and denial, you were so carefree and reckless but accepted each of them whole heartedly despite their flaws. Him most of all, he wished Fives or Hevy was here they always knew what to say to get him out of his head then again he wondered what they would say if they saw him now. He rested the back of his head against the seat his mind wondering to far in the past for it to be aware of the now. He missed how simple things were when he was a reg, the time with his brothers, the shore days, how everyone use to look at him and now it was totally different. He shut his eyes trying to focus himself, thinking of his current family and you... and all of the devious things you do to him wondering if the ends have justified the path here. Echo let muffled a groaned folding his arms remember what you were doing to him before he seized.

"You too?" Tech asked nonchalantly, his face had the same expression.

"Yeah."

"Me three," Crosshair uttered.

Tech and Echo stared at each other again with clear recognition on there face and then out the window, the silent offer between them waiting to see who would make the first move.

Crosshair arched an eyebrow, "Maybe I do want to know."

"Well, I interrupted them on accident and got invited to join."

"No I was right the first time, I didn't want to know."

"You asked."

"I regret it because I have questions and I don't like it because Echo doesn't have a-" Crosshair started noticing Wrecker walking in just towel.

"Echo doesn't have a what?" He said biting down on a piece of fruit.

"-a dick."

"Oh yeah I was wondering how that worked anyway," Wrecker asked taking another bite.

"Your turn." Tech said returning his attention back to the window.

"WOW," is all Wrecker could say after a red face Echo told him about him and Tech and the cyber connection piece Tech modified for him.

"I am going to go take a cold... cold... cold shower," Crosshair hissed getting up.

He quickly got him to the refresher, no longer being able to hide the bulge under his armor. He didn't like the fact he was sharing you with them but it gave him ideas the next time he was with you. Maybe some mirrors or letting Echo watch or even recording it with Techs googles for his viewing pleasure. He finished striping his armor and blacks off. Turning on the freezing water, but that didn't help soothe his throbbing member. He pressed on hands against the wall pushing his back tighter against the wall, nothing was helping.

"Kriff," he growled, putting his hand on his cock and stroking it.

All he wanted was your mouth around him while he stared down at you, pulling your hair out of the way so he could see you take him. He tighten his grip on himself, stroking harder on himself this thighs tighten. Your name was on his lips and his desire splattered on the wall. He held his spasming dick trying to breath and calm down before he washed the wall and himself. Crosshair turned the water off, still feeling the tension in his thighs and groin starting to subside. He looked up the ceiling wiping the inner corners of his eyes before putting everything back on and returning to this seat. Everyone was in their seats and thankfully Wrecker had his armor back on because that was more of his brother he didn't see during that conversation and his reaction to it.

"Where's sleeping beauty?" Crosshair asked.

"Mediating, a call came from Cody and didn't let any of us listen to it so I don't know if it's good or bad news yet," Echo said pushing some buttons.

"It's good news," Hunter said playing with his knife.

"Want to share with everyone else?"

"He and some of the boys are gonna be there, and her tattooist if she needs any new ones."

"What tattoos?"

"The near invisible ones on her thigh and shoulder," Crosshair smirked that his enhanced sight let him see so much.

All of them turned and stared at him, he was surprised that Hunter hadn't noticed. He flicked a tooth pick into his mouth with a smirk.

"It's just the Pack's symbol and her Orders symbol, you guys can relax."

"Interesting."

Almost on que you walked in smiling in a very tight black dress. You gave them a little twirl showing them the exposed back and all of exposed marks on your neck. You smiled and took the empty seat next to Hunter all of them still staring at you.

Crosshair growled, "Twirl again and I'll take you right here."

"It's going to be a long night," Echo mumbled.

"You look amazing," Wrecker said his jaw still agape.

"And you still haven't had a slice," Crosshair smiled.

"When it's time it'll be time," Wrecker said closing his mouth.

"I'm about ready for another," Hunter said smiling his hand flickering to your leg.

"Maybe if you ask nicely-"

"Unfortunately that's going to have to wait, we're just about to land."

"Of course we do," Crosshair rolled his eyes.

You gave a little pout with a wink at him. Upon landing Cody and a few of his squad was there. You watch the familiar greeting shake take place between all of them, each grabbing the inner arm of the other. It was nice seeing some of the 'regs' not look at them weird or in a demeaning way. You threw your arm around Cody before he ducked knowing what was next.

"Come hereeeee! I just wanna make it look like you're gonna have a good time," you said chasing after him, and he started straight up running not wanting you to mess up the gel he put in.

"Should we follow after her?" Wrecker asked Hunter.

"No, let them have fun. Cody is like a brother to her and apparently the harassment is normal," he said looking at the boys stifling their laughter.

"See, not all the regs," Wrecker laughed slugging Crosshair in the arm.

"Funny."

Cody did his best to avoid you but lost in the end when you jumped on him taking him to the ground, "I win."

"Reaper! Augh," he finally admitted defeated.

Instead of messing up his hair you helped him up which got his brows to furl in suspicion, "I was just trying to give you a hug, but I get it I'm not good another," you said pretending to be offended.

"I'm just glad your okay," Cody said giving you a hug, "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up."

"Yeah where we're you?" You asked with a hitched eyebrow.

"Wolffe and Crosshair needed some sparring practice, someone needed to make sure it didn't get out of hand which it did."

"Oh...." You trailed off, "They didn't tell me."

"I wasn't suppose to either."

"Wait how bad did it get out of hand?" You said recalling you didn't see Wolffe until the next morning.

"Bad enough."

"This is going to be fun" you said sourly.

"Reaper," Cody said putting his hand on you're shoulder, "Tonight will be fine."

You stopped to take a deep breath, annoyed that you didn't suspect anything or noticed; madder that Crosshair didn't say anything to you. Your hand clamped to fist and your jaw ached from how tight it was. You wondered if you could even walk in there anymore with a smile. Cody got your attention by shaking your shoulder calling your attention back into the moment, you exhaled letting the anger dissipate and the object you were apparently floating fell to the ground with a small thud.

"I hope so," you apologized, starting to walk again noticing the eyes on your back and worry coming from behind you.

Cody was quiet studying her, he knew something was different but couldn't figure it out. He'd see her mad on several occasions but never like that. He flickered his eyes back to Squad 99 and then his eyes found the marks on her neck. So the rumors were true, General Kenobi wasn't going to like this. He realized the ticking time bomb he might have just armed, he groaned catching up to her.

"Wolffe made his decision a long time ago, he just wanted to make sure they could handle watching your back."

"I don't need anyone watching my back," your temper spewing over.

"He still loves you, you know," Cody said grabbing your wrist, watching the anger melt, "Don't make tonight harder on him then it has to be," his eyeing going to your neck then back into yours eyes.

"Yeah, let's have a fun time."

Cody tried to keep the energy up telling you about his latest adventures with Obi, hoping to get your mind off of it. He told you about the man Anakin had turn into and his Padawan.

"Feels like just yesterday you were the newbie, you getting a Padawan soon?"

"Not a Jedi, anymore" you said putting your arm around his neck, wagging your finger in front of his face "and no one has had the interest. Bunch of borings."

"If you're not a Jedi, what are you?" He asked raising an eyebrow.

"A one person army protecting the Galaxy protecting it from itself."

"You're not just a one person army anymore. Well you're still a Jedi General to me."

"I guess you're right," you let yourself feel the others behind you, "and I'm the general," you laughed letting ago of him.

The 79's was brightly lightly lit and half a dozen grey bikes were out front. The pungent oder of to many drinks and bad decisions were gone. You open the door, to find the bar spotless. Looked over to find droids cleaning and Wolffe scowling at it from across the bar. You laughed again, your hands buckled to your knee, at first it came out humorous then it turned into sobbed laughter.

Wolffe shot up and lunged himself over the table, his first barely making contact with the ground before slide across the floor to where Cody trying to comfort you. Wolffe brought you to the floor, cradling your head against his chest.

"Cody," he growled.

"I had too."

Wolffe glared at him, "what did you have to do."

"He told me about the fight... with Crosshair and how you still.." he heard you whisper, your voice cracking.

Wolffe growled again, scooping you up, "Keep them preoccupied, I know your at least good at doing that," before taking you into the backroom.

Hunter heard the conversation with Cody and smelled the tears, the salt in air of the freshly cleaned building. He kept up the conversation trying to not alert his brothers that something was wrong before they realized it themselves. It stung to hear it and her sobbing, but the truth was bound to come out later. Hunter looked up to find Cody walking out with a plate of drinks, ridiculous strong smelling drinks.

"Starters?" He said holding out the drinks.

They each down them when another yellow reg came out another round and a handful of darts.

Wolffe petted your head, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Duty comes first."

"I thought loyalty did," you said moving to stare at him, pulling your body away, "Why did you approve of him."

"Darren would have picked you over duty," Wolffe's face turned to stone, "something they can give you," he looked down at the marks on your neck.

"Didn't it hurt you? I never felt it..." you said wipping your tears.

"You don't think I haven't picked up a few tricks to make sure?"

You looked at him and the scar running over his eye, he pressed your hand over his heart. You felt the emptiness, the hollowness, the pain and the anger. He leaned forward and kissed you, holding your bottom lip with his, your hand over his scar and happiness and instant regret seeped out of him and then there was his normal nothingness when he pulled away. For a moment there was pain the realization that there was never a last kiss and that was it, the goodbye and than that too was gone.

His eyes never betrayed his secrets, "Now, can we go have fun," He said standing up and offering his hand.

You took it and pulling yourself up, "Yeah, Cody is probably out of ideas on how to stall them."

"Pfft he has plenty of ideas. He has to keep General Kenobi busy often for General Skywalkers plans," he paused, "They better be good too you or else."

Wolffe walked you out assuming Hunter was close enough to hear he taped on the wall hoping Cody could hear too.

He got you both drinks, "Notice anything?" he said pretending to look around.

"You had the droids clean it?"

"And?"

"Is that an invisible tattoo!" You said looking closer under his ear and neck.

The tattooist walked over and shown a light on it, exposing it. Your name behind his ear. The light went off when the door opened. A huge crowd walked in, your squad was first.

"Apparently, Cody entertained everyone" Wolffe mumbled.

Hunter walked in first, his hand meeting your face and kissed you, "Are you okay?" His voice a faint whisper.

"I'm better than I've been in a long time."

Wrecker picked you up and swung you around in a circle before putting you down, "I was wondering if we ever got to come on."

Crosshair let his head trail down the open spine of your dress, "You're lucky I don't count that was a twirl."

"Actually-" Tech began to say before Echo covered his mouth, "Don't tempt fate."

Everyone started joking and having fun, you were stared at by several of the troopers at the never apparent dark pink and purple marks. You looked to see the boys had there's exposed and smirks everytime someone glared. You followed them back to the huge both, Hunter putting you in his lap for everyone to stare at.

"I thought you were against the gawking," you said putting your arms around his neck.

"I'll have to get use to it," he paused smiling, "plus I'm sure if we're Crosshairs lap things would be going differently."

"Hmph," Crosshair complained.

"He's as bad as Tech," Wrecker laughed, to Tech's horrified expression.

"I hate all of you," Echo mumbled slamming down another drink.

"Says the loudest!" Crosshair shouted.

"At least didn't started it before the rest of us left!"

"At least I didn't invite anyone to join!"

"Kill me" red covered your face, realizing how they had already had enough to drink.

"This is going splendid," Tech said putting his drink down no daring to chug it.

"Scared to have fun?" You asked looking back at him.

"I don't want to incriminate myself on such indecent subjects."

"What the hell is this stuff, truth serum?" Cody asked knocking another.

"Maybe, but it's taste good" Wrecker said.

The music got turned up and Echo hauled you off to the dance floor, "Dance with me," he said his hand going to your waist.

"I didn't know you could dance."

"I have a lot of stories about my brothers and I from before," He smiled, "I wish I met you back then."

"I wonder if you did."

"I think I'd know if a Jedi was in here when I was."

"Jokes on you, I hid in that upper booth."

He kissed you, it was gentle, "I love you. I didn't say it before, I'm sorry."

"I love you, too" a dumb smile across your face.

"So why was Cody stalling us?" He asked.

"I have no idea what you mean."

"I knew Cody as a reg, I know."

"Wolffe and I needed to get a couple things off our chest."

"Did you two...."

You wrapped your hands around his head, letting your finger graze the connections knowing what it would do to him. He let out a barely audible groan. His fingers dug into your hips trying to keep himself quiet with some many others around.

"He may have kissed me but that's it," you said stopping the stroking motion.

"That better have been it," Echo let out a small growl.

"I can promise you that it was," exposing the side of your neck with his mark on it.

"Fine," he placed his mouth back on the mark and showed how hard his disagreement was with his teeth.

You could feel your heart beat in more places then one, you stroked again harder and he shuttered pulling back. You smirked at him with a wink, not stopping. Echo continued to try to sway to the music but every movement got harder to do with the stimulation, he buried his face in your neck try to hide the pleasure reeling across it. He knew you weren't going to stop until you got what you wanted, he gave in the sensation. You heard Echo muffled a moan into your neck and he felt a heavier.

"Close.." he mumbled then the spasm shot down his system and, "Kark," he moaned barely being able to hold himself up.

"You boys are the only men I want..." you leered, "any time of day."

Echo managed to pull himself up, still flustered and coming off the high of the overload. He kissed you again, the jealousy gone and he looked at the even darker mark he caused. It was one thing to share you with squad but it felt different with someone who wasn't them.

Hunter walked over distracting you from Echo's gaze, he fingers wiped over your lips "I agree I dont him every touching these lips again either," kissing your cheek before returning to the bar.

You looked to see several troopers gawking at the exchange. Echo rubbed the back of his night, "Maybe I need a couple more," blush creeping over.

"I'll keep her busy, while you do" Crosshair purred, gently pulling you off of him.

Crosshair pulled you back into him, his Cod piece rubbing against your butt, the thin fabric of your dress didn't leave much to the imagination about your figure or curves. Out of the corner of your eye you watched the toothpick move as he smirked as the troopers stared.

"Why don't we give them a little show," Crosshair said extending your arm all the way out, kissing from your fingers to your shoulders and up to your neck before he spun you out and then back into his chest.

"You can dance?" You laughed with an eye brow rinse.

"You'd be surprised about what else I can do," he smiled taking pride in himself, "Now just look pretty for them."

Crosshair's smirk was hungry, you were absolutely beautiful and he knew every man in here knew that and looked with him both contempt and jealousy. To him you were the force given flesh, the light and the dark in perfect balance with each-other and the most valuable thing in the galaxy because of it.

"What's the look for?" You ask seeing the barely noticeable softness in his eyes.

Maybe that every man in this room wishes he could be me, "You’re absolutely beautiful,” he smiled, “I need some air. Have fun,” the bulge was getting increasing hard to hide, hoping that some air would help calm the raging thoughts of bending you over the bar counter.

You walked your way back over to where the pack was lurking, nothing the new black tattoos on some of the men, “Looking good boys.”

“So what are you getting?” Wolffe asked you still watching the shiny get his new marking.

You stared at the rest of the squad that was scattered about the bar, “Their helmet down my spine.”

“Bold.”

“Just like I have your symbol, I should also get one for Cody… what can I say I’m sentimental.”

It was your turn in the chair, the chair was flipped and you had to hike your skirt up to indecent amount so you could swing your leg over the seat. Wolffe rolled his eyes and mumbled that you going to get troopers into trouble. You winced but held tight against the chair as the markings appeared.

“That looks painful,” Tech observed staring down at you.

“Just appreciate it,” you gritted out.

“I would if I knew what I was suppose to be seeing.”

Wolffe took the light and showed the blossoming helmet icons going down your spine. Tech fiddled with his googles, astonished and speechless by the gesture. He opened and shut his mouth several times but he couldn’t get anything to come out.

“Get a load of this guy,” Wolffe said laughing with another trooper, turning off the light and putting it back down on the table.

“I- need some air” Tech said twisting on his heels, he pointed Wrecker in your direction and left finding Crosshair sitting against the building playing with his toothpick.

“What’s with Tech?” Wrecker boomed walking over.

Wolffe flashed the light over your spine, Wreckers eyes wide, “WOW”, he crunched down to get to your eye level, “You’d do that for us?”

“I mean I did do it,” you wince has the next helmet started to appear.

Wrecker kissed you, excitably, “I think it’s beautiful,” he said giddily, he kissed you again before standing up and taking the light to watch his helmet appear, “Wooow,” he grabbed your hand letting you squeeze on it instead of the chair.

“Done, anything else?” The artist asked.

“That’s it for now,” you said standing up still holding his hand, letting the next trooper get in the chair.

Your back ached, you could feel were each of them were but it gave you relief that no matter what they would be apart of you no matter what happened. Although you wondered if getting Tech’s was to much.

“You too,” Crosshair said looking side ways when Tech sat by him.

“I do not know why you are out here. I, how ever, am out here because she got our helmets invisibly tattooed down her spine and I do not know how to react to that nor what I am suppose to think about the grad gesture. I did not know what to say nor do-“

“-she might as well said she loves you?” Crosshair finished.

“Yes but I am unaware if I can reciprocate it or if I should. We are soldiers, were loyal to each other and perchance I have to decide between one of you and her,” he said letting his head rest against the wall.

“It sounds like you already made your decision,” Crosshair said studying him for a moment, “I understand more than you think.”

“I don’t think you would.”

“I kept my hands off of her longer then you did, maker knows I tried.”

“And risked the safety of the rest of us, which I could not afford to let myself do.”

“When are you going to tell her?” Crosshair asked tossing his toothpick into the garbage can.

“Eventually.”

“Then I’ll tell her,” Crosshair said standing up, the alcohol going to his wobbly legs, “I am fine being the bad guy.”

[kitixie]

Harsh Are The Gods

(the swordsman, part 2)

plot: you and aemond have had a continuous affair, but it is soon stricken with problems.

warnings/tags: nephew/aunt ‘ncest, forced marriage, smut (18+ only pls), dragon birth/still birth, general sadness with slight happy ending

extras: lmao i feel evil, i was so mean to them in this chapter i feel like. anyways, i hope you all enjoy and please let me know if you want a part 3, i’ve left then ending semi-open so i could add, or it could stop here. thank you all for reading and for the support on part one :)

*not proofread

You and Aemond had spent everyday in each others company over the last month and a half. Granted most of that time had been spent naked, fucking away in discreet places in the Red Keep, you had been together regardless.

Your handmaiden had come to you early this morning, and delivered quite upsetting news; You had not bled your latest cycle. Filled with panic, you knew there was nothing to be done about it now except to tell Aemond. Unsure of how he would react, you decided to wait the half moon until you were sure that your cycle would not come.

…

The moon had come and gone, and no blood had come from you. The feelings you felt that morning when you woke to dry bed linens were almost undescribable. Panic and fear surely, but there was also a sliver of hope and happiness within you. You had always longed to be a mother, but seeing as how no man would marry you due to your bastard status, this seemed to be a good outcome. At least the baby would be a full-blooded Targaryen, and whether you and the father were married or not would not change that.

...

The swishing of your dress against the floor was the only noise you could hear, despite the plentiful noise of voices around you as you walked through the central area of the Red Keep. You knew that surely the sound of your heartbeat was heard by others, yet no one paid you any mind. You were making your way to Aemonds chambers, where you knew he would be this time of the day. The walk was normally long, but it felt like it passed in seconds and before you knew it you were standing infront of his chamber doors. You were unsure of how long you stood there, but eventually you gathered the courage to raise your hand and knock.

"Come in," Aemonds voice rang out, coming clear through the door.

You pushed open the heavy doors, and as you stepped into the room he never even turned his back to you.

"Aemond," You spoke, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned from his desk, his blue eye meeting yours. You could fell your eyes begin to swell with tears, but refusing to let him see you cry you turned your back. The scrape of his chair against the floor made you shudder, and before you could stop it, tears began falling from your eyes. Aemond wrapped his hand around your shoulder, turning your body towards him. He placed his hand on your chin, turning it up towards his face. Your body became racked with sobs, and he did nothing but wrap you in a tight hug. He had become quite compassionate towards you over the past two months, but this was the first time he simply held you. You ceased crying within a few minutes, and he didn't release you until you brought your hands to your face to wipe the tears and snot that had drained out.

"y/n, what could possibly be so wrong that you come to me in this state? Has Aegon done something? Rhaenyra? Tell me who and they will pay I swe-"

"Aemond, I have not bled in two moons." You blurted.

His face morphed from one of anger to one of shock. His brows lowered, and his eyes softly closed. He ran his palm across his face, taking his patch off in one swipe. In a burst, he threw it to the floor harshly. He began to pace the floor, every two paces or so looking from your face to your belly. Moments passed and you could do nothing but stand still and watch him pace.

"Aemo-"

"Hush. I am trying to think." He cut you off midsentance. He ran his hands along his face again, finally stilling and turning towards you.

"We must marry. As soon as possible. Then you can carry and we will say that you birthed early." He spoke, and although it felt like a situation that should be a request, you knew that he wasn't asking.

"If that is what you wish Aemond. No one has to know it is yours, I only thought it kind to tell you." You spoke, your voice diminished back to the whisper it was when you first entered his room.

He stared at you, with unreadable eyes and a flat-lined mouth. His gaze didn’t falter for several minutes, until the two of you’s staring contest was interrupted by another knock on the door. Aemond walked past you, and opened the door revealing Aegon.

“Hello Brother, I thought you may want to join me this evening, I’m going to Flea Bottom and I know how much you do enjoy the place.” Aegon said, his face growing with a mocking smile.

It wasn’t really an invitation, more of an insult since he knew Aemond despised Flea Bottom and those who inhabit it. Aegon’s eyes drifted around the room, suddenly landing on you. He pushed past Aemond, came to you and slung his arm around your shoulders.

“Perhaps our Aunt would like to join us, no?” He teased, looking between you and Aemond.

“She will not be going, and neither will I.” Aemond spoke, coming to the two of you and removing Aegons arm from around your body.

Aegon simply responded with a disappointed grunt, and left the room, once again leaving the two of you in silence. Aemond stared at you for a while before he finally spoke.

“I will go to my mother and father, and tell them I want your hand. They won’t refuse me.”

Before you could get any words out, Aemond had already grabbed your wrist and led you to the corridor outside of his room. He released you once the two of you were outside, and gave you strict orders to go to your own chambers, and wait for him.

...

Several days later, you found yourself to be standing in your room, surrounded by Alicent, Helaena, and your handmaidens. Some issue had occurred at Dragonstone, so Rhaenyra and Daemon were unable to be there with you. the handmaidens were picking and poking at the white dress the covered your body, and although the dress was beautiful you still felt out of place. Alicent had been strangely kind throughout the whole ordeal, which would not have been strange when you were younger but you had seen the hardened woman she had become over the years. She shooed away the maidens, and took both of your hands in her own.

“y/n, I know we have not been close in several years, but just know that I am pleased with this union. I love both you and Aemond dearly, and I wish the both of you the best.” She spoke, her eyes starting to tear up.

“Thank you, my Queen.” You said, looking in her tear filled eyes, and rubbing your thumbs over her hands. The two of you had not been friends in a long while, but she had never exhibited callous towards you directly, only towards your sister.

Helaena also said how happy she was, and that she had thought of you as her sister long before now. There was guilt in your heart, that neither of them knew that this marriage was for the sake of someone neither you nor Aemond had even met yet. This wasn’t a union of love, or trust, or peace. Instead, it was one of secrecy, and it hurt your heart to have to lie to them.

Aemond was an absolute vision, standing there at the end of the aisle. His white hair was in its usual style, but this time the pieces that held the top half back were braided instead of smooth. His leather top covered the majority of the emerald colored tunic, and his eyepatch was changed from its usual worn, brown leather into a sleek black one. You looked beautiful yourself, the white dress that had been chosen for you by Aemond was spectacular. It was an A-line dress, with sleeves came to your elbows, and the bodice was encrusted in a variety of jewels, which included ones that matched his emerald green tunic.

The ceremony carried on with no issues, and soon enough the two of you were wed. There was a grand feast, the certainly outshone Aegon’s and Helaena’s, but it seemed fitting given that your husband had more friends than his brother. After the feast was celebrated, the two of you were sent of to consummate the marriage.

Aemond gently held your hand, leading you to his ever familiar quarters. He didn’t look in your eyes until the both of you were in his room with the door locked behind you.

“y/n, you truly look beautiful but I am about to tear that dress to shreds.” He said, his eyes filling with hunger.

He made his way to you in two large steps, smashing his hot mouth onto your own. His hands came to the side of your face briefly, but then moved downwards, groping your breasts that lay beneath the thick fabric of the bodice. He quickly tired of not being able to actually feel your skin, so his resolution was to rip the dress. He tore it directly down the middle, all the way from the top seam down to where it connected to the waist. He pushed the rip open, finally getting his lips connected to your hardened nipples.

“I cannot wait for these to swell and fill with milk, I know it’s purpose is for our child but there’s no reason I should also not enjoy it.” He murmured, directly going back to suckling your buds.

You ran your fingers through his hair, gathering a tight grip at the base of his skull. You have a swift tug to his hair when he bit down on your breast, and a loud moan fell from his mouth. He moved back to your lips, giving sloppy kisses that were full of lust. You never relaxed your grip on his hair, and soon it came to your advantage. You grew impatient with his kisses and bites, and used your grip to force Aemond to his knees. As he kneeled on the ground before you, you could feel your cunt dripping with wetness, and it was all for him. You lifted the skirt of your dress, ultimately deciding to pull the entire dress over your head. Once it was off, you threw one of your thighs over his shoulder, and grabbed his head once again.

“Eat.” Was all you had to say, and his mouth jumped at the opportunity.

He began licking, teasing, and lightly biting all over your pussy and the surrounding areas. His tongue swiped between your folds, his sharp nose pressing into your clit. He would move from penetrating you with his tongue to kissing up your inner thighs, and whenever his tongue wasn’t in you, his fingers were. He sucked onto your clit and didn’t let up until you had covered his leather top in your juices. He rose from his knees and led you to the bed the two of you would now share.

“Now that I am your husband, I can fuck you as loud and hard as I want, and no one can say a fucking thing.” He said harshly.

He stripped himself of his clothes and the sight of his muscled body was almost enough to make you cum again. He flipped you over so that your hips were resting on the edge of the bed, and slowly inserted his cock into you. He allowed only a second for you to adjust to his large size, and the he started fucking you, hard. The sound of skin hitting skin along with the sounds of your combined moans meant that surely everyone in the palace was hearing this. Neither of you cared though, as it was finally allowed to happen, so what did it matter if anyone heard. He fucked you from behind until suddenly he withdrew and turned you over.

“Let me see my bride’s beautiful face.” He spoke, his voice kinder than before but still riddled with lust.

He took his time getting back to your pussy, laying kisses down from your jaw, to your breasts, down your stomach and finally he placed one more on your hand before he reinserted himself into you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in deeper. He kept going until you came for the second time, but this time around his cock. He came shortly after you, letting it fill your belly because after all, what would it hurt at this point?

The two of you laid next to each other, content with this little arrangement. You both cared for one another, maybe not in the traditional way of a marriage but it was close enough.

…

It had been 7 moons since you and Aemond married, and your babe was due any day now. You were unusually large for a pregnant woman, but you had just chalked it up to your indulgence of cravings and possibly a large baby, as Aemond was a large man. The cramping began an hour or so after breakfast, and when lunch was served was when you felt a liquid flow down your legs. You excused yourself from the table, and told Aemond to stay and dine with his family, that you were just going to check on something. You made your way back to your and Aemonds shared quarters, and stripped of your dress, leaving just the slip that was underneath. The front of the dress was covered in blood, and you knew it was time for your babe to come. You had decided very early into the pregnancy that you wanted an undisturbed birth, but Aemond had argued. You assured him you would not be alone, but that you only wanted one person there with you as you actively gave birth. You wanted Helaena. You send a guard for her, and tried to hold your babe in until she arrived. She came quickly, and was more than ready to assist. You labored for several hours, finally feeling the crown of your babe exit your body. You reached down to feel, and to your horror, the babes skull was rough and bumpy. You screamed at Helaena to leave you, and your words were so harsh that she did. You were completely alone, just as your mother had been when she tried to give birth to you all those years ago. You felt the urge to push, and so you did. The head came out, and you were able to pull the babes small body from your own. The child was monstrous. Their skull was misshapen, with the skin being rough and textured. The skull sat atop a long, slender neck that was a frightening view. Their face seemed normal, except for their ears were only a small hole on either side of their head. There were patches of scales littered all over their body, which was the smallest of the bodily impairments your child suffered. Their genitalia were so deformed you couldn’t gather what gender they were, there was a small tail coming from their lower back, and last of all, the child had wings.

Realization sunk in, you had just delivered an infant dragon.

But before you could process the amount of grief that came with the still birth, you felt something else. Another urge to push came, and to your shock, you could feel another head. You went through the same process as before, trying to breath and listen to your body for instructions on when to push, all the while staring at the malformed infant in front of you. Finally, the second head crowned, and came easier than the first. You marveled at the beautiful baby, who was perfect in every way that his sibling was not. You had given birth again, to a beautiful, joyous, baby boy.

You had wrapped up the healthy baby, and called him the name you and Aemond had previously agreed on for a boy, Rhaegar.

Rhaegar laid in his crib, sound asleep, while the dragon laid in your arms. You had decided that he was also a boy, and named him Baelon.

No one disturbed you for hours after the sounds that had been coming from your chambers, especially after you sent Helaena fleeing your room in tears. Around midnight, when the moon was high in the sky, the door opened. You snapped your head quickly, and pulled Baelon closer to your chest. It was your husband. He looked at you, and the bundle in your arms, and then to the crib. A large smile overcame his face as he realized, it was twins.

“We have twins? Are they girls or boys? Are they good size? How were your labours? What did you name th-” Aemond began spewing, but you quickly interrupted him.

“We do not have twins. Only the one, a boy, Rhaegar.” You spoke, looking away from him and looking to the moon.

He seemed confused, as he rightfully would be. You stood, and left Baelon in the window, his small corpse hidden beneath the blanket you wrapped him in. You lifted Rhaegar from his crib, and presented him to Aemond. Aemond seemed very happy with Rhaegar, but was still focused on the small bundle sitting in the window seat. You saw his stares, but you simply didn’t have the heart to tell him. You slowly walked to Baelon and lifted him up. With your back still turned, you unwrapped him so that his entire body and wings could be seen in the moonlight.

“Put Rhaegar down and come here.” You told Aemond, without ever turning your back. You could hear his feet walking across the floor, and felt his hands on your shoulders as he looked down at the deformed infant.

“Have you named him?” Aemond asked, laying a soft kiss on your temple.

“Yes, his name is Baelon.” you spoke, not removing your eyes from him in fear that he would evaporate into the night air.

Aemond took Baelon from your arms, and carefully swaddled him back into the blanket. He looked at you, and only with his eyes he managed to say how proud he was of you. You had delivered two babies, all on your own and had managed to survive the birth of a dragon, which was a feat alone that killed most Targaryen women. You had named them both, and although you understood that Baelon would never take a breath on this earth, you loved him no less.

…

The pyre that supported Baelons small body was surrounded by only a few. You, Aemond, Aegon, and Helaena, who was holding Rhaegar, all stood around as Vhagar stood to the left of you all. The five of you moved away, with you and Aemond having said your last goodbyes privately inside your chambers.

“Dracarys, Vhagar.” Aemond’s voice cracked, he had never imagined enduring such hurt at such a young age.

Vhagar blew fire, and ignited the pyre, releasing your small baby boys soul back into the universe. You found peace in the theory that he may come back as a true dragon, and maybe one that Rhaegar would ride one day. But for now, you just stood on the small beach, with your family, watching the pyre burn and imagining how harsh the Gods are.

[muffindaddystyles]

HarryWeen: We dressed as daddy tonight!

WARNING: None, dilfrry fluffieeesss is all 🥺🥺

WORD COUNT: 900.

Harry was gonna surprise Y/N today. He and Harry Lambert kept his costume for Harryween in silly secrecy, but guess that his designer's more of his wifey's bestie than his's.

He was grinning hard at his reflection in the mirror loving the way his cheeks looks awfully cute and apple like with pink blush, his face resembling to that of a puffery fishy when the corners of false eyelashes pokes him in a weird way and he chuckles remembering all those time Y/N complains about wearing them and loosing them but he always makes sure to stick them to their mirror and mark them with a sharpie.

It was quite odd when he sent someone to call Y/N from the hall room and even that person didn’t return.

“Mark could you please call Y/N for me?” He felt giddy and bloody enthralled to see Y/N’s reaction, her bright praising eyes and bouncy toes from excitation always gives him a boost of serotonin.

His big crystal pupils rolled up to his forehead in attempt to see the cute headband adorned atop his head and he pokes it slightly to slip it back into it’s place, quickly scrambling towards the middle of room when the door-knob to the dressing room jiggled.

His mouth fell slack. His strawberry lipstick chapping a little from his heavy breathing, the room caramel-ed with the sweet giggles of his lovelies.

“You!” points at her in fake accusation, his grin irreplaceable and too wide, “Bloody you–.” He squeals with the rush of elation.

It seems like a fever dream.

“Hi, Bubby.” Y/N laughs out loudly. Harry Lambert standing behind the two with a super cheeky proud grin, “Meet your lil Dorothy!!” She bounces their thirteen months old baby on her hip.

Vinnie. Their little baby girl’s dressed exactly like her daddy, from head to toe— not even a detail goes un-matched, her chubby cute cheeks already too pink. She’s so small, so cute and Harry shakes his head vigorously in disbelief .. his dimples milking deep from him smiling hard laugh sputtering out of his goaded chest.

His heart bursts into non-stop hiccups with fondness and love that blossoms into every single of his body seeing his baby, his fucking baby dressed as him.

He could kiss Harry Lambert right now on fucking lips.

“Dada!” Vinnie makes grabby hands at his dad, thrashing her red boot covered feetsies, wiggling in her mums arms eagerly and Harry cackles out loudly giving a kiss to Y/N, “Thank you so much. You’ve no fuckin’ idea how much this means t’a me, bubbles.” He murmurs against her head pecking it last time before embracing his little precious bean in his arms, “You look cute.” She smiles kissing the tip of his nose warming up when he his features scrunches up in shyness.

“... And thank you, Harry, Yeh really deserves to get laid tonight have a sexy time.” He winks at him grumbling when his falsie irks him being his literal enemy for the time.

Vinnie coos and babbles curiously peeping up at Harry, a tiny bib around her neck to save her poor costume from getting ruined from her drools.

Harry wipes her mouth taking her dummy out as he speaks to her in the softest and sweetest voice Y/N has heard from him.

“You’re matching daddy t'night, hmm bug? Look how cute you’re.. my cutest little baby.” He croons rocking her in his arms, tapping her cheek with his pointer and watching it jiggle, feeling his heart swarm with infatuation when she giggles at her dad’s silly action.

He puts his fingers on his mouth pretending to be shocked, giving obnoxiously wide comic eyes to the little one, “Even wearin’ the same booties as dada! You copycat!” Vinnie melts all over his chest with the fits of her giggles sighing against him with a soft breather as it tires her and Harry’s feeling undescribed happiness being the reason of her giggly mood.

Y/N’s watching the duo with gleamy tender eyes, it was the best thing she came up with and she’s glad as ever that Harry Lambert also wanted to see this happiness radiate off Harry.

“You wanna be my lil candy?” He gives his baby a toothy grin when she hits her fists with loud gleeful squeals at the sight of Harry’s little basket, “Aww.” They all synchronise, laughing as Harry takes the dog stuff toy out and settles Vinnie there instead snapping her pictures with his own phone.

“Aren’t the loves of my life insanely adorable.” Y/N beams taking their pictures when Harry grabbed the basket from floor and posed with it cutely, his bubba totally on the moon enjoying being put into something small and two sizes bigger than her.

“I love you so ,so ,so much bug.” His lovin’ for his daughter getting muffled into the loud purposely smacks of ‘mwah!’ as he showers her in his kisses not caring if his pink lipsticks all over her soft face making her smell like strawberries.

He loves it when his scents is on her and her honey sweet baby scent is all over his chest from holding her for dear life everytime.

“You and mumma g'na come and see dada?” He asks raising her wrists closer to his mouth and kisses her delicate teensy hands.

She blubbers grinning and showing her only tiny teeth flashing at front.

“Yay!” He dances them around clicking his boots to make her laugh and hugs her with her head crooked into his neck when she actually does fall into her dad’s trap.

It’s the best Halloween he has get to experience so far.

[chemicalpink]

Young Gods ❈ KNJ, JJK

❈ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader x Jungkook

❈ Genre: smut, f2l kinda, but also s2l, fantasy!au, fluff if you squint, gods!au, wizard/witch!au

➛ Part of the Namkook Moonrise Masquerade hosted by @jamaisjoons

❈ Rating: 18+

❈ Wordcount: 4.2k

❈ Warnings: it is jungkook centric, it does have a somewhat heavy plot, double penetrative sex, magical sex, teasing, slightest corruption kink.

❈ Summary: Legend has it that if you were to walk all the way up to Hallasan, and if the land is welcoming enough, you should be able to see the most beautiful lake where it is rumoured to home the most powerful being the world has ever had the pleasure to meet, so when young warlock Jungkook starts having trouble with his magic, who could blame him for travelling all the way there in hopes of finding answers only to be met with the hottest man he’s ever seen. and really,  who could blame him for fostering the biggest crush on him without saying a word for ages? that is, until y/n, a long lost friend of Namjoon shows up. so really, who is he to blame if he lets the two greatest beings in existence use him for their pleasure?

❈A/N: SHE'S HERE. GOD THIS TOOK A WHILE. Please enjoy! ALSO, banner by @jamaisjoons, I do believe the only thing that keep me writing this was the banner lol. Do tell your thoughts on this bad baby, I was heading towards a larger fic but I didn't have time yet magical au is most definitely there for future fics.

The first time Jungkook realised just how powerful he was, he was fifteen years old, although his mother can recall him being around four and being able to master a potion that most common-born non-royal witches could only hope to get mediocre at once trained at their young twenties. Of course, his magic had soon become taboo around the village, having to hide himself behind years of his father’s training, his lineage a bit closer to royalty, not quite, but just enough for his son’s magic to pass as his own. If his customers notice how better his spell jars or potions get once Jungkook turns eighteen, they sure don’t comment on it. Not that they would be able to tell that the family was hiding a master of the magical arts that could rival the country’s most powerful witch in the blink of an eye. Those were just rumours going around, as far as the Jeon’s were concerned.

“Son, I believe it is about time you get some proper practice on your magic” his father mentioned bypassing one Sunday night as they both locked up the store. He turned to hi, somewhat confused.

“Look if this is about Seojun noona’s elixir being more powerful than it usually is I swear it was a rightful mixture, my trial was right beside her actual one and she entered the shop sooner and-”

His dad shakes a hand dismissively at him, rounding the counter into the small storage room, coming back in sight with a leather-bound book in between his hands, calloused fingers roaming the antique-looking pages “I am not quite sure how much truth an old man like your grandfather could hold, but it wouldn’t hurt to try” he turned the yellowing book towards him, fast and almost undescribable scribbles decorating the paper as he squinted down at it, his father handling the energy in it to make the content quite literally come to life, a storytelling spell all too familiar to him from his young age.

“Dad, you know I absolutely love bedtime stories, but I’d say I’m quite a bit too old now for-” before he can even think about finishing the sentence, a mountain comes into view, alive straight from the book’s pages, standing tall and proud dressed in green, almost touching the sky, a magical aura surrounding it, one that he could even feel just by looking at it “What’s that?”

“The old man used to tell me stories about an ancient being, the most powerful of them all, living on top of Hallasan” the pages turn by themselves, the image changing to a faceless man, standing almost as tall and proud as the mountain itself, performing all types of magic, some of them Jungkook himself hadn’t even heard of “Legend says he was outcasted by royalty in fear of revolution, wouldn’t even be alive if it weren’t for he is a child of Earth herself”

“I-I don’t think I’m following”

His father sighs loudly before his magic shuts the book closed, all magic gone on a whim “Jungkook, whatever this man was, if my father was right and he really did exist, you might be like him”

“But-but I was born of both you and mum” he couldn’t quite yet fathom the extension of his own magic, much less think about the probability of being more powerful than any other being that had walked the Earth in millennia. Even if the man was real, would he even be alive still? If he was as powerful as he was presumed to be, would he even take Jungkook under his wing? What if he wasn’t as lucky as the man from the book and word got out and his life was endangered?

“Jungkook just think about it, you might be a child of the Earth”

“What if I don’t want to be” he couldn’t quite face his father, feeling his own heartbreak as the older man deflated. Jungkook knew that perhaps his dad had entertained the idea of his only son being a creature out of a legendary book, could feel how proud it would make him, for Jungkook to be a hero, make history with the power he presumably held within, yet he couldn’t help but feel like a small child again, afraid at the uncertainty that the future could hold. “I- I’m good with just running the shop and helping you and mother out with stuff”

His father sighed before placing a gentle hand on his shoulders, a small act that made him feel even more like a child, one getting subtly scolded by his parents as they prepare him for his inevitable future. “Jungkook-ah, your mother and I- all we really want for you is to live your own life”

His ears perk up, gaze facing forward as he catches his mother standing with her arms crossed over her body, the softest motherly look on her face “And if that means for my baby to go find himself at some faraway place, then so be it” she comes to join his father by his side, both of them bracing each other as the thought of their child growing up simmers down on them. “We just want you to grow up to your full potential Kookie”

.-.-

It had taken quite some convincing for him to completely make up his mind, the negging looks from his father as he helped around the shop, the longing yet scolding gaze his mother held over dinner until he found himself preparing a small bag for the long trip– almost burning inside his mind the map contained in his grandfather’s grimoire from the many times he had read over what he once thought to be a legend out of a children’s storybook.

The trip itself wasn’t as difficult as it was troublesome, having to hike up the highest mountain in the land, the difficult part–if the Jeon’s memories were anything to go by– was having the Hallassan land spirit to like you enough to show itself, even a step further to have the legendary witch to show his home.

For quite some time Jungkook entertained the idea of the immense possibilities on how the wizard could look, every possible image popping up in his head some variation of a wrinkly old man hunched over himself, staff in hand and he couldn’t help but laugh soundly at it, picturing himself getting nagged at by such a figure, perhaps he would end up looking like one of those old scholars that came to his village from time to time. But how wrong was he.

It took him three days, two cold sleepless nights in the woods and running in circles for at least two hours in the nothingness that was the top of the mountain for the valley to show up right where he had started to venture– he could almost hear the forest spirits snickering at him. He really tried to be angry at it, almost went back down just out of spite, yet the clearing before him had him doing a double-take, the space was bright and clear, none of the trees from before on sight, the small dipping in the middle of it leading to a sort of entrance– this was what he came for.

Jungkook had been raised better than what he found himself doing– walking into a stranger’s house uninvited. Was it really uninvited if after knocking for a few minutes the door opened on its own?

He walks inside, small steps, unsure of himself, his past resolve crumbling down completely as he walks further in where he listens to a hushed voice coming from his left, a mop of silvery hair turned away from him, green warm clothes cradling the figure, Jungkook entertains the idea of an old man still, yet not so much hunched over himself if the deep hushed voice and the hair colour was anything to go by. “...Now where did I last see-”

"Hello-"

"Oh! great timing! the pay is where it always is" broad shoulders are still facing him as the man moved around, a couple of won bills on the counter where he had waved his hand dismissively, not even bothering to turn around, for a legendary creature perhaps leaving his home door open was a recurrent thing, what with the whole clearing hidden from the public eye and all.

"Oh I'm not-" he had tried to make himself knows as definitely not the person he was expecting yet the man kept mumbling to himself, apparently in deep thought at whatever it was

""—So then if we are able to move this around we should -" he had started moving around the room, still not facing Jungkook directly, just pointing to places around the spacious room as his free hand busied itself with picking books from the humongous shelf against the wall

"I'm- uh" his hands couldn’t be still, grasping at the bag over his shoulder, knuckles almost white as he clears his throat "I'm not-"

"Did you forget where-" the man turns around and Jungkook feels whatever little poise he had gained leave him in the spot, right in front of him is the most legendary creature in existence, recorded alive for millennia, a god in more ways than one, no old man in sight but the prettiest human he had laid eyes on, fierce sight set on him awkwardly hanging at the entrance as the man keeps blinking at him "uh"

He bows down almost instinctively, 90 degrees, hair falling onto his eyes as he does so "Mister sir- uh keeper of Hallasan"

"You aren't Soobin"

"Uh.. no I'm not"

The man doesn’t even flinch at the information of a stranger setting a foot inside his house, deep voice calm as ever as he asks "How did you even get in?"

"Uh the door was open" he points to the door in a futile attempt for it to not make it seem like he was the weirdo picking locks or something at a magical creature’s home

"No it wasn't" he moves to the door in the most graciously way he has ever seen someone do it, almost gliding across the floor, eyes never leave him except for the brief second where his hand tries the doorknob "huh it was. Weird"

It took the man less than a minute after his initial shock to turn to Jungkook and invite him in, a pair of teacups resting against the table as they seated parallel to each other, him crossing his legs in a nonchalant manner as Jungkook couldn’t stop fidgeting in his seat– he certainly never thought he could come this far.

“So what can I do for you, Jeon Jungkook?” if he absolutely preened at the way that his name sounded in the stranger’s mouth, that was certainly something only for him to know.

The words died right on his tongue. There were certainly a lot of things the beautiful man seating across from him could do, none of them necessarily involving what he had initially come for, yet as the words take meaning inside his mind, he seems to short circuit yet again “I uh- you know- you know my name?”

He smiles a big smile, eyes crinkling into crescents, dimples showing and a heat simmering inside Jungkook’s belly “I know a lot of things, Jungkook” he stares off into space “Social skills are rusty, but they come back after getting a good look at you” Jungkook’s eyes must widen at the implication of his words. Could he read minds? Could he take a look into souls? “Just general stuff about you, don’t worry about it”

The man could definitely read minds.

Blink if you’re hearing this. The man blinks and Jungkook feels like fleeing. Wait. Everyone blinks, stupid. Perhaps some other time.

He somehow finds his voice, remembering the lingering question, the sole reason for him to be there “Mister Hallasan keeper, sir”

“Namjoon is fine”

“Mister Namjoon-ssi”

“Namjoon hyung”

Jungkook is sure this time his brain shortcircuits for real, for this complete stranger. Namjoon he corrects himself, to give him permission to call him so affectionately after only a few minutes of knowing him. After technically breaking- not breaking into his home.

Smile if you’re reading my mind. Namjoon smiles, something doesn’t sit right with him, he could very well be reading his mind, or simply smiling out of politeness at the extended silence Jungkook had caused, again. I’m onto you Mister Hallasan Keeper. Namjoon just smiles more fondly at him.

Jungkook goes on explaining his situation, from his rapid magic learning to being unable to wield his magic, to his father even suggesting that he could have been born from the Earth herself, just like Namjoon did all those millennia ago. The blond man restricts himself to listen to Jungkook speak, gaining a serious pose when he drops the reason for his visit, asking him for help. Jungkook’s almost sure he will deny it as he goes on to explain how his last magical apprentice had been there almost sixty years ago, going on about how he is pretty much a loner, no reason more than a brief excuse of being an outcast for practice differences with the village where Jungkook comes from, giving it a few seconds of thought before he accepts to have Jungkook under his wing, going as far as to give him a spare bedroom to sleep in along with the longest set of rules he had ever heard of.

Months with Namjoon look something more or less like this: waking up at 6 am sharp– something Jungkook had never done in his life, the first few times he had woken up later than that, it was almost impossible to know where his teacher had gone to. Have a rundown on the day’s activities and breakfast until 7. Jungkook was in charge of gardening on the 30-minute window of Namjoon harvesting for the spells he was due to make for the day. An hour of light reading– he knew better than to comment on how a thousand pages book was most definitely not light reading, but he did it anyway. He would then shadow Namjoon on whatever mystical task he had to do for the day before finishing up with him running basic high-level training with Namjoon’s guidance in the clearing– Namjoon had said that the Hallasan spirit would keep him safe and sound if he were to screw up, although so far all the spirit and her friends in the forest had done was laugh at his mistakes.

Five months in it, the whole routine came as second nature, he couldn’t even picture a day without Namjoon on it, not that there was anyone else that could pick up on the energy shift within it, Jungkook had learnt a lot from his teacher, not only in the magic department but about him as a person, couldn’t hide the lingering eyes, the curious touches of skin, every bit of information about Namjoon expanding that fondness feeling inside his heart, Namjoon was a man of habit, a powerful one at that, yet all those millennia living couldn’t hide the fact that Jungkook could see right through him, a lonely soul, as powerful as none other, yet so inherently say. Not even the whole power in the universe could keep him away from his own greatest danger: himself.

If you can read minds, kiss me. The kiss never came so perhaps Namjoon could never even read minds in the first place.

Now here’s the thing, Jungkook might be a mess when it comes to magic, but not so much at hiding his feelings, at least the best he could, Namjoon was as intelligent as men come and he had yet to notice. Namjoon’s friend that just happens to show up on a particularly lazy day– his teacher had said his magic tends to run out from time to time and would rather rest it; perhaps not so much.

Jeon Jungkook is a weak man. A weak man for beautiful things, like Namjoon, or you. Who just happened to walk inside Namjoon’s home like you owned the place– could he count it as his home too yet?

He could feel his heart wanting to leap out of him as soon as you introduced yourself, and perhaps he was imagining the way your eyes grazed over his figure before going to tease Namjoon, not that he stopped having heart eyes for the man when you walked in, he had enough heart eyes for the both of you, even if he had to keep them to himself. You were easier to warm up to than Namjoon if it was anything to go by, smoothly falling into conversation after you three had sat down for tea, walking up to Namjoon’s massive library, picking out books from their shelves as you asked him about his upbringings.

“The Jeon family? Oh, dearest, your grandfather was as good as wizards come” his brain cuts short as soon as the words leave your mouth, just how exactly could you have known the old man? The old wizard was presumably thrown out of the royal house for being unfit for ruling over the land. You playfully push your elbow against Namjoon “And I say this while knowing Joonie”

The blond man groans at your teasing.

“You-you knew my grandpa?”

“Yeh, such a shame he decided to be a mortal” Your initial interest seems to diminish as you turn to face the books yet again, a particular red cover catching your attention.

“What”

Jungkook faintly hears Namjoon standing up from his chair to try and get in between his conversation with you, although all he hears seems to come as if the voices were kept under cotton inside his ears “Y/N you’re overwhelming the kid”

For such a calm and collected posture, he had maintained not only while learning with Namjoon but back at home too, hearing such a word coming out of him really tips the glass “I’m not a kid! Why is everyone always treating me like a child!” surely it did seem rather childish to have an outburst like that, yet his mind couldn’t help but reel in all those other times in his stay where Namjoon had dismissed him from helping, saying it was a rather complicated spell you should wait this one out Jungkook. Or something along the lines of when you get stronger. It did seem the type of things one would say to their petulant child.

“Jungkook waits” Namjoon groans as he retreats to his assigned room, you can’t help the softness inside you at the way that strong independent loner Namjoon reacts to his apprentice being pissed off, certainly a first.

“You pissed off the kid” your remark isn’t that much well digested as Namjoon throws a dagger-like glare your way, groaning as he throws his head back against the couch

“Why am I parenting again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you offer him a tight lip smile, you had heard a lot about Jungkook even before you had walked inside the wizard’s home, like a reader of a slow-burning love story, you knew that ‘parenting’ was most definitely not the dynamic in his relationship with the younger, not with the way Namjoon had described the little mannerisms of his apprentice, or the way that he described his figure as the strongest back I’ve ever seen with such a tiny waist when he sent you a letter asking you to visit him.

The thing with the dynamic you had with Namjoon had been one going on for hundreds of years, feeding off of the magic that only such powerful creatures like you and him could conjure, effective yet dependent as when either of you two was in dire need of a boost, you would have to pay him a visit to work your magic. Jungkook hadn’t appeared after his little outburst, probably hidden in his room, taking only a few minutes of Namjoon glancing expectantly at the place where the younger had disappeared before you dragged him towards his room in an all too practised manner.

The whole environment was always on the calm side whenever you two get to it, something along the lines of strictly business, yet an undeniable connection between the two. Namjoon had you against his door, a dimly lit lamp on his desk, strong hands holding you in place at your waist as he leaned down to connect both of your mouths, eyes fluttering shut as he did so. Your hands found themselves tangled in his blond tousled hair in no time as he deepened the kiss, moving the both of you towards the bed as magic started glowing dimly within you two, connecting and feeding off of the spark of the situation, magic so profound and delicate that only immortal beings could hope to master. Namjoon placed himself against his elbows as you straddled his hips, your figure teasingly humping his growing bulge inside his pants as his breath started to become ragged, his own magic reaching forward to yours, just the way his lips chased yours. Yet there was only so much ominous Namjoon could handle. His hands were quick to undress both of you in between hot caresses and messy kisses as both of your bodies seem to move on their own accord, the magic itself doing the most out of the tantric experience, moans slowly but surely filling up the room as Namjoon positioned the tip of his hard cock on your entrance, teasing your folds for a few seconds before you settled on top of him in a familiar manner, sinking down on him as he throws his head back, letting out a groan. You are almost sure Jungkook could hear you both, yet your mind so clouded you wouldn’t have given it a second thought with Namjoon’s cock filling you up so nicely as you moved up and down on his length, that is until out of the corner of your eye you catch the casted shadow outside the dimly lit room.

"Your puppy is outside," You say as you stop moving on him, not quite removing yourself from the situation, yet you feel the magic in the room flickering faintly as if going dormant.

"What" Namjoon’s eyes are surprised as he lets reality sink in, his magic safely sated from the small act

"The kid that has an obvious crush on both you and me?” you state matter of factly as Namjoon’s jaw goes slack “He's watching us from behind the door"

As if on cue, there’s a rustling behind the door, feet rapidly resounding against the floor "No I'm not!"

Namjoon sighs loudly "JK just come in, I know this might seem.." the door opens and you could swear Jungkook’s eyes are about to leave his skull at the image he’s present with "weird"

"incredibly hot," they say at the same time, rendering both of them speechless

"huh kid's horny" you start removing yourself from Namjoon’s cock as your magic starts tingling, now reaching out for the younger "i like it"

"Y/N please"

You gesture by raising your hands as if surrendering, yet you know just how the night had taken a turn, willing to satiate your magic’s needs “He doesn’t like your PG training, let me handle this”

Jungkook is still sporting his Bambi eyes as he feels himself pulled into the room, closing the door softly behind him as he can only stare at you as you make your way towards him, lips ghosting over his “So tell me Jungkookie” your hand trails down to bring him closer to your naked body, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to your ass “Just how much are you willing to render of yourself for me and Joon?”

“All of me”

Jeon Jungkook might as well had been an erotic wizard like yourself if by the way he manhandles you and surrenders you to Namjoon like a loyal apprentice would to his master was anything to go by. Namjoon’s stare alone has the young man pliant as he caresses tan skin under his fingers, achingly curious as the youngest takes turns to kiss the eldest and yourself, Namjoon’s fingers playing with his nipples, your own hands working his length to life after your magic had completely undressed him, feeling both your and Namjoon’s magic reaching for Jungkook’s in a way you didn’t know was possible. A few kisses and lingering touches in, minds clouded with lust, kissing noises and moans taking over the space, Jungkook takes no time in positioning you on top of him, back to his chest as his length stretches you deliciously, long fingers playing with your clit as his own legs separate your thighs as if offering you up to his master, Namjoon looking like a man starved as he positions himself against Jungkook’s cock, his tip meeting no resistance as he glides in and nestles next to Jungkook, stretching you like no other time you could fathom, groans and ragged breaths of the men under and above you working you to your own climax, babbled words coming out of the youngest’s lips along with a promise of becoming yet another young god under your spell.

[catsnkooks]

fulminis instar

Darth Maul x (fem) reader

summary: "and if the devil were to see you, he would kiss your eyes and repent" - farouq gouida

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut, 18+, praise kink, pet names, monsterfucking technically, tbh this is pretty tame considering my standards

a/n: psppssps maul fuckers c’mere!! time to shine baybeyyy

the pet name maul uses comes from @justalittlecloud​ and their maul drabbles please hit them up they’re fantastic

this is set in the same universe as a deo et rege. maul was never sliced n diced bc apm maul is peak maul sorry tcw maul simps but i’m right. much more plot in this i’m sorry but i gotta set it up

taglist: @littlevodika​ @bad-batch-of-fics​ @hounding-around​ @valkyrieofthehighfae​ @nelba​ @maggietheoneandonly​ @captainrexstan​ @anakinswhore​ @saxophonegirl97​ @answer-the-sirens​ @blue-space-porgs​ @fractiouskat @calamity-queen​ click here to be added to the taglist!

here it is on ao3!

“My lord, if I may introduce my associate, Lord Maul.”

You glanced at the man standing next to the emperor. A zabrak, with bright red skin and black interlacing tattoos. You’d heard about his kind; Nightbrothers, they called themselves. Fearsome, tattooed warriors from Dathomir, loyal now to the emperor through Lord Maul. He sensed you staring at him as his eyes settled on you. Your eyes widened and you quickly looked away, your face heating with embarrassment.

Your father nodded beside you to the enigmatic man. “A pleasure to meet you.”

The zabrak inclined his head politely back.

Your father turned to you. “We have much to discuss privately, my dear. You may leave now.”

“Of course, father.” You stood and bowed to the two men on the opposite side of the table. “Emperor Palpatine, Lord Maul, I hope to meet you again soon.”

You took your leave, feeling as if there was a pair of gleaming, golden eyes following you out of the door.

---

“Lord Maul! You surprised me!”

The zabrak standing before you inclined his head, displaying his cranial horns to you. “I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

His voice was much more soothing than you expected and it caused shivers to run down your spine. He took your hand in one of his gloved ones and brought it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours. Your breath hitched and your mind blanked of any thoughts. He lowered your hand but didn’t release it, rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Where were you going?” he asked, snapping you out of your trance.

“Back to my chambers,” you said, feeling out of breath for some reason. He was standing close enough to you that you could see flecks of red in his golden eyes.

“With no guards?” His brow creased in concern.

“This is a very peaceful planet, Lord Maul.” Why did standing so close to him make your heart beat so fast?

He hummed. “Perhaps. However, one cannot be so sure.” He pressed another kiss to your hand, this time on your fingers. “Would you like me to escort you?”

You tore your gaze away from his, your face heating with an undescribed emotion. “I-if you would like. I would not protest.”

He hummed again and stood back, motioning for you to walk forward. “Then lead the way.”

---

The trip to your chambers was uneventful, as always. Lord Maul made polite conversation with you along the way, an ever-stoic figure beside you. He asked you about various parts of your planet, which ones you liked the best, how the people thought of your father as their ruler, what your duties were. You were almost sad when you reached the door to your chambers, getting over your initial fear of the mysterious zabrak and quite liking his company.

“Thank you for walking me back, my lord,” you said, curtseying to him from your doorway.

He bowed slightly in return, grasping your hand to once again bring it to his lips. “Of course, it was my pleasure.” The way his lips and voice curled at that last word made another shiver go down your spine.

“Will you escort me again tomorrow?” you asked, your voice hopeful. Your hand sat comfortably still enclosed in his much larger one.

“Of course,” he promised. “Will I see you at the gala tomorrow night?”

“Of course.” The gala your father was throwing in honor of the Emperor, where he would announce his alliance with the Galactic Empire. You could not miss it.

“Good.” His voice came out in a low growl that made your stomach flutter and made you feel warm all over your body. “I will see you then, my lady.” He brought your hand up to his lips one last time and held it there for much longer than was acceptable. Those golden, gleaming eyes stared into your own, as if putting you in a trance that you eagerly fell for, getting lost in them. You thought you saw the barest hint of a smirk as he released your hand and walked away.

---

Your mind was restless ever since then, and it only got worse as the gala steadily approached. You resisted the urge to fist your hands in the material of your dress as you scanned the ballroom from your perch at the top of the grand staircase. Then, you spotted him; standing at the edge of the room, almost as if he draped himself in the shadows. His appearance hadn’t changed much, merely trading in his traveling tunic for a more intricate one. His gaze snapped to yours, as if he felt you watching him.

Making your way down the intricate staircase, you held your head high, preening under his attention. His eyes raked over you from head to toe, drawing up from the full, red skirt of your dress, the jewels sewed into it sparking under the light. His eyes drew up to your stomach and chest, pausing for a few moments at the deep neckline that ended at your sternum. Your steps faltered and your skin grew hot as his eyes lazily traveled over the skin of your chest. He grinned, running his tongue over his teeth in a lewd gesture that made you falter more.

As various dignitaries from around the galaxy greeted your father, you making polite conversation with them when they asked, you constantly scanned the floor for Maul. Music played softly in the background and you escaped from your father’s side, intent on your search. You didn’t have to go far before a voice called your name from behind you.

“My lady,” Maul said, stepping out from the shadows. He took your hand once more up to his lips, his intense gaze never leaving yours. “May I have this dance?” he asked, pulling you into position before you even answered him.

“Of course,” you replied, already breathless. You placed a hand on his shoulder, settling your left hand in his while he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into the dance.

He spun you effortlessly around the ballroom, never treading once on your feet. “You are quite the excellent dancer, Lord Maul,” you remarked.

“My master taught me in the fine ways,” he replied, smirking. “In case I should ever need to woo someone.”

You dropped your gaze to his chest, unable to keep his intense gaze. “I-I see. You certainly look good enough to woo someone.”

“You as well.”

You looked up at him again, face flushing with his praise and surprise. You responded automatically, but you couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Thank you.”

You danced in silence with him for several moments. The skin under his gloves was almost unnaturally hot, almost burning into your hand and waist. With each new step, he drew you closer, until it would become unacceptable, but you weren’t stopping him.

“I must confess something to you, my lady,” he murmured, his voice low and sensuous.

“I as well,” you said, taking the initiative to step closer to him this time.

He gazed at you for a moment, his eyes roaming all over your face, down your neck, and to your chest before coming back up to your eyes. “I am positively obsessed with you,” he breathed. “You have plagued my mind ever since our meeting yesterday.”

“You as well,” you sighed. “I cannot stop thinking about you, Maul.”

Maul sighed through his nose, closing his eyes for a moment, then opening them and looking off behind you. “Your father seeks an alliance with the emperor. A marriage between you and I could arrange that.”

“Oh.” Your heart dropped and you were sure your face fell, as Maul immediately reacted.

“But do not think my obsession stems from that,” he said, his tone turning desperate. “I desire you, so very ardently. I swear I would only ever treat you well, like the queen you deserve to be. Please, I must have you.”

Your head swam from his words. No one had ever professed their desire for you like that. “You…you want me?”

“I swear it, my starlight,” Maul said solemnly.

You sighed again, a smile coming to your face as giddiness rushed through your veins. “Then you shall have me, my lord.”

---

Maul announced his intentions for you to your father that night after the ball. Your father agreed immediately. A week later, you were married, becoming queen of Dathomir and all its territories in one fell swoop.

Unfortunately, Maul could not stay with you after the wedding, as his master, the emperor, sent him on a mission. He swore he would return to you as soon as possible.

Your room in his palace was lonely. The large bed in the center of the wall was too large for one person. Your guards were only ever polite to you when you needed escorting from your room to meals and other places. Your calls to your father became less frequent as the emperor required more of him. You had more maidservants than ever before. But the only things that mattered to you were your letters from Maul.

The one connection you had to him, his letters he sent to you through a secured holo. He tried to send them every day, but with the constraints of his mission, he often broke that, causing your worry to skyrocket before the next letter came in. He always began them with “My Starlight” and always ended them with “Your Night Wanderer.” He never disclosed the nature of his mission and rarely talked about his day, instead asking you about yours and writing treatises on your beauty. You often felt like a lovesick girl after reading his letters, flushing hot at his praise spilled on the page.

His letters became desperate and soon you were flushing with lust along with his praise. His words became hotter and heavier, praying that he would soon know your sweet taste and feel your soft skin under his hands. He made bolder statements, saying that you would not have to leave your bed for days once he returned. It would almost make you nervous if it didn’t make you giddy at the same time.

It happened late at night, after you’d changed into the silky nightgown Maul had given you before he left and retired for the night. You stirred awake, feeling the soft press of lips against your exposed shoulder, twisting around to face whoever had snuck into your room. In the dim light, you could make out the crown of horns and red skin interlaced with black tattoos that announced the arrival of your love, your night wanderer.

“Maul?” came your voice in the recesses of your darkened room, tinged with sleep. You reached for him as he knelt beside you on your bed, cupping his cheek.

“Hello, my starlight,” he murmured, kissing the palm of your hand before nuzzling his nose into it. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, Maul,” you murmured back, bringing his face to yours so you could share a chaste kiss like you had the day of your wedding. “Why did you not tell me you were returning?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he said, kissing down your arm. “But truthfully, I could not stand to be away from you for any longer.” He pressed open-mouthed kisses on your neck and you gasped, your hands moving to cup the back of his head and hold him close. A fire burned between your thighs because of his lips and his words. “You plague my mind every minute of every day. I can only think about how I must have you.”

You lifted his head from your neck, one hand trailing down his cheek, his throat, to rest on his heaving chest. He nuzzled your palm, closing his eyes and kissing it. When he looked back down at you, spread out beneath him on the bed, his pupils were blown out with only a thin ring of gold in his eyes.

“You have me, my lord.”

Something snapped in Maul at that and he lunged down to seal your lips with his in a hungry kiss. His hands grasped desperately at your skin, both of you moaning at the feeling. He pulled your nightgown up so he could slip his hand under to palm your breasts. He swallowed your moan when he teased your nipples.

“You are so soft, my starlight,” he groaned. His hands left your body only for a moment so he could shuck off his tunic and trousers. The muscles of his chest and arms rippled in the dim light and the fire between your thighs burned hotter. He watched as you squirmed under him, grinning and licking his teeth in the same lewd gesture from the gala many nights ago.

“I would take my time to ravish you properly, but,” he said, hooking his fingers in the band of your underwear and pulling them off in one smooth motion, “I'm afraid neither of us will last long.” He parted your folds with one hand, groaning at the sight. “You are so wet, my starlight.” Teasing your sensitive nub with his thumb, he inserted a finger into you, sinking to his knuckle.

You moaned and writhed under him, tossing your head against the pillows as he slowly pumped his finger in and out of you. You gripped his arm, feeling the corded muscle under his skin, gripping harder when he added a second finger, stretching you open for him. Praises that you had read from his letters now spilled from his lips.

“So good, my starlight, just like that,” he crooned, curling his fingers, searching for the spot that made you scream. When he found it, he grinned as you let out a high keening cry. He pulled his fingers out of you and you whimpered at the loss, but soon moaned again when you felt the tip of his cock brush your entrance.

He kissed up your stomach, your throat, and to your lips, lining himself up to you. “You are breathtaking, my starlight,” he breathed against your lips. Then he entered you in one swift thrust.

Your mouth gaped open, but you weren’t sure if any sound came out. You finally released the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, gasping for air as Maul slowly thrust in and out of you. The ridges of his cock felt divine, hitting every spot that made you scream. Maul groaned into your neck, flipping your legs over his hip to hit at a deeper angle and for better purchase at your thighs. You gripped tightly to his shoulders, nails leaving indentations in his skin.

“Maul—Maul!” Your voice grew higher and louder, trying to signal to him that you were near your release.

“I know, my darling,” Maul gasped, propping himself up with one arm so he could look down at you. “Cum for me, my darling, please.”

At his insistence, you tumbled over the edge. Your vision went white and you arched your hips, trying to stay flush as you contracted around his cock. His name became a mantra as it fell from your lips and the only thing your mind could think about, the pleasure he was giving you. Your name fell from his as his hips stuttered and he lost himself to your tight warmth.

Once the wave subsided, you lay panting, tangled in the bedsheets. Maul pulled out of your fluttering hole, groaning at the sight, how wrecked he made you. He got up from the bed, padding over to the refresher, and returning with a wet rag. You mewled when he cleaned you up, cleaning the mess of his and your cum off of your thighs. The rag made a wet plap as he threw it, landing on the floor close to the refresher. He settled down beside you again, peppering kisses all over your face.

“Did you enjoy, my starlight?” he asked, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his warmth.

You sighed and settled your head on his shoulder, nodding, too tired to speak.

Maul chuckled, the sound reverberating low in your ears. “Sleep, darling. I will make true of my promises soon.”

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ INSECURE ❜

with Filip ‘Chibs’ Telford.

Request: I’d love if you could write something for me, it’s kinda personal but I’d love to read it, it’s something a lot of people could relate, something about having panic attacks during intimacy? Like during sex or foreplay triggered by feeling like you’re underperforming or not good enough. Preferably with one of the SOA guys maybe chibs Tig or happy, love your writing ❤️

BY ANON

Warnings: nsfw, smut.

Word count: about 1.7k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author.

Masterlist. You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

You didn't want to, but you fell in love with him inevitably at first sight.

But something stuck in your head doesn't let you take a step forward.

You have never gone beyond kissing, after a month playing his game.

Juice told you that he's someone overconfident, but looks like you are making him doubt.

You are dying to have some kind of intimacy with him, but every time you try it, there's a panic installed on your chest that makes you run away from Chibs.

“No' this time, lass”, he thinks.

Urging you to jump onto him and surround his waist with your legs, without caring about who is looking at you two, he takes you to his dorm. Outside of the clubhouse it's happening another Samcro party, so he can't have some time with you, without being bothered. His lips are devouring yours rashly and desperately, groping the door to find the knob and turn it. Coming into the room, he closes it behind his back. His steps lead the two of you to the center of the bed, lying there with his huge hands pawing your body. And of course you want to continue, feeling how he gets comfortable among your legs, but the bitter sensation appears again. Pressing his chest with your palms to push him away, you break the kiss that has you running of air.

He's looking at you confused, with a disappointed gesture on his face. And you are so sorry for him, but your insecurities are stronger than your desire. Kneeling over the mattress and sitting on his heels, Chibs rubs his face with both hands, heavily snorting as he strokes his hair to the back of his head.

“Is it me?”

His question takes you by surprise, licking your bottom lip and flying your gaze to somewhere in the room. You shake your head in the time that two fingers hold your chin, urging you to look at him.

“Then, wha'? Wha' don't ye wa—”.

“What if I'm not good enough to please you?”

Filip is looking at you with parted lips, without can believe your words.

He gives you some space.

Some minutes.

Some calm.

Chibs lies down by your side, embracing you against his body.

He gives you some confidence to talk about your sexual experiences, about the guys you have been with, about how they treated you like shit. About that they weren't pleased by you, and they all ended up cheating you.

About what you really feel for him.

About that you don't want to lose him, just because you can't give him what he wants.

And you are terrified of Chibs saying that it's okay for him to not continue with you.

But he doesn't.

He kisses you again. Slowly. Kicking out your worries from your body.

“What if we just play this time?”

His fingertips tour your left thigh, lifting up the skirt of your dress some inches, enough to settle his hand between your legs. His ringed forefinger presses your center over the wet fabric of your panties, while one of your hands strokes the bulge under his rigid jeans. Chibs grunts against your lips, slightly rocking his hips, in the time he puts away the piece of clothing covering his most precious treasure. Really easily sliding two fingers inside you, a moan escapes from your mouth. His long and thick digits stretch your walls deliciously, needing some help to undone his belt too focused on the pleasure he's giving you by his hand going back and forth.

His hard dick springs free, as soon as he can roll up his clothes enough on his thighs. Your fingers hold it carefully, using your thumb to stroke the head of his erection, spreading the pre-cum all over his extension. That makes it easy to jerk him off. Starting with a low pace, you move in total sync.

“Fuck, my love...” He gasps, trying to contain the cravings of ripping of your dress and fuck you as hard as he can. “Ye do'e so… so fucking good”.

The arm around your neck closes itself tightly, shortening the distance. Chibs's forehead rests against yours, speeding up the thrusts inside your pussy bit by bit, as your wrist moves somewhat faster from the base to the glans.

After leaving the room, he looks happy, hugging your body and kissing your cheek a lot of times.

Having heard his moans asking you to not stop, to continue, to make him cum makes you feel a little more confident.

He have really enjoyed it

The next days, he surprises you taking you to the remotest corners of the club just to finger you, to teach you to be quite, to feel your warm hand wrapping his dick hardened because of you and the way you have to bite your lip when he's looking at your eyes, telling you how beautiful you are.

Little by little, your panic attacks are disappearing, letting you take another step.

The next time, you surprise him at the office of Teller-Morrow.

Closing the door behind you, with a naughty smile drawn in your lips, your boyfriend takes a seat on the sofa. The same smile on his, traveling the tip of his tongue over the bottom one. Without saying a single word, you place yourself between his legs, standing up but leaning forward to kiss him. While his tongue fights yours in a filth way, your fingers undoes his belt and the zip of his jeans. Pulling the clothes down to his ankles, you kneel on the floor. Chibs is lost in your lustfully eyes fixed on his, watching sideways how your tongue licks his erection. What he wasn't expecting is your mouth welcoming it. Your lips get closed around his sensible skin, as you bow down your head until your nose meets his pelvis. He can't help but arch his back slightly, with a growl borning from his soul. Your throat being forced by his hardness, stealing you all the air within your lungs, feels torturously pleasurable.

“Hold'e there… my love… I beg ye”. He babbles, placing his hands over your head as he leans back his against the wall.

When the gag makes his cock vibrate, filling up your mouth, he gasps a little louder. Almost in a delighted sob. Anyone can't fake that. You know he doesn't have much time and you don't want to waste it. Your head almost bounces on his dick, turning your neck lightly at both sides making some semi-circles, while your tongue licks every inch of his erection. Chibs tastes really good, salty and sweet. And he's really enjoying fucking your mouth, finally letting him set the pace. A little fast, a little rough, imagining it's your tight pussy. Imagining how wet you are right now.

As soon as you feel the shivers running his thighs, you secure your mouth around his dick, making him know that you want him to cum. He doesn't need words either, pressing down on your head, until his glans hits and forces again the wall of your throat, spilling out his hot cream within your cavity. The glad moan floods the small office, catching his breath for a second. Ripping his vocal chords.

He can swear that he hasn't ever seen something more beautiful than you showing him the inside of your mouth after swallowing his seed.

Later that day, you discover how easy it is to see the stars when you ride his face.

His rough beard makes you some tickles, rubbing your skin once and again, as you rock your waist over his face. His fingers are strongly nailed on your thighs. His lips devours your folds, tucking among them his tongue as if he was fucking you with it. But when he catches your swollen and needy clit between his lips to almost suck your soul out, you feel that you can touch the sky. He's determined to worship your whole anatomy, being focused on how good you feel soaking his face with your juices, while one of your hands are tangled in his hair and the other is squeezing one of your nipples.

“Oh my fucking god…” You cry out, closing your eyelids.

Feeling his lips vibrating against your skin because of his chuckles, you let yourself go, pulling down your body over his abdomen.

He wasn't expecting it. Growling upset.

Until he hears you talk, placing both hands on his chest.

“I need you to fuck me so badly”.

His heart stops for a second.

Making you lie down on your back, Filip rolls down his clothes, slightly raising up his shirt.

He is truly anxious, just like you are.

Slamming his cock inside you, he pushes it beyond your limits. Your moans appear in sync. His ringed fingers wrap your throat, as he sinks his face into your neck. Going back, he pounds you with fury. Once and once, as deep as he can do it. Your body bounces a little over the sofa, trying to find an anchorage point for your hands, finding it on his back. Your nails scratch his skin, begging him for more. Every thrust is rough, stretching your walls and covering his dick with your wetness.

“Fuck, my love… Et feels so good… so damn good”. He cries against your neck, nailing his hands on your hips.

The pleasure is undescribable, torturing your anatomy and every bone of it, while he continues impaling you against the sofa too desperate for making you cum. For cumming inside you. And after so much play, he can't take it anymore. You either. The orgasm hits your bodies with waves of heat. Tears in your eyes because of the delight he is making you feel, filling you up with his warm seed. Pressing his body against yours, with your legs strongly closed around his waist. His grunts don't cease, biting your neck to draw a hickey on it; marking his territory, as he really loves.

“Jesus fucking Christ”. He curses then, as you push him some inches deeper into you. “Ye're gonna kill me one day”.

You repeat some minutes after.

And you finally understand that you weren't the problem, but the others guys.

[stardustincarnate]

CONTROL // Light Yagami x Reader

word count : 1498

⚠️WARNINGS : self-harm, suicide attempt (1st half)

-

"𝕯𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎𝖙 𝖒𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖘 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖇𝖘𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖙𝖊𝖑𝖞 𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖓?

...𝕱𝖔𝖗 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖒𝖆𝖓 𝖒𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖓."

In your mind, he wouldn't be happy seeing you like this. But what else could you do? You had nowhere to turn. Nowhere—or in fact, no one, whom you could call your haven anymore.

And what happens when one has nowhere to turn?

They drown into the fathomless darkness. Unable to escape, unable to swim back to where the light shines. Drowning all alone in an undescribable bitter agony.. All alone suffering due to the loss and grief they knew would never end.

You didn't just lose a boyfriend. You lost your bestfriend, your family, your haven, and more importantly, your future. The only one who was able to understand and love you for who you were. The only one you had wanted to spend the rest of your life with. A very important person to you. Your other half. You didn't just lose a boyfriend, you lost a huge piece of yourself, dying as well as he did.

Death is inevitable, something that is obvious.. But why must death come so soon, so early? Why must he come so soon to end the joy that was merely beginning?

It hurt. It hurt like hell. No—it was worse than hell itself. It hurt to have the one you love taken away by death, and we all know that they can never come back to life. Even as we weep endlessly, beg for the heavens, spend so many nights wailing in agony, unable to sleep.. No matter how many times we do that, the pain won't end. It won't bring them back to life.

They can never be brought back to life.

"R-Ry..uzaki..."

You choked, your eyes brimming with tears which obscured your vision that you were barely able to see the object in your hand.

A knife.

With trembling hands you sliced open your wrist, blood hastily gushing out from it. It ran from your wrist, down to your elbows, and to the ground as you lift your arm up. You cursed your quivering hands as it had intercepted you from successfully hitting that certain arterial pulse, preventing you from reuniting your dearest Ryuzaki in heaven.

You thought was your only option to escape the dark. To end it all.

But no.

Unexpectedly, the light had appeared in front of your very eyes. The light which struck you as your salvation from this darkness.

The light that offered you another escape.

"[Y/N] no!"

"S-Shut up, shut up, shut up! Leave me alone!!"

Of course it was futile to say that to the adamant that was Light Yagami. He rushed to you, but halted seeing you firmly pressing the knife harder on your wrist.

"Come any closer and I'll—"

"[Y/N], please don't do this. It's not worth it! Look at me, [Y/N]. Think about the life that you're gonna waste if you do that!"

"Everything's worth it for Ryuzaki!"

You cried, your anger fueled to the brim seeing the suspected Kira. The Kira who killed the love of your life. Why, you thought, on earth would Kira stop you, L's girlfriend, someone who was standing in his way?

You disliked Light with a fiery passion. Mainly because you believed he was Kira. That's what your past lover always said. And you knew he was never wrong.

Right?

If you had other plans you could've plunged the knife into the chest of the man you so loathed. But you would be the evil one then. You would be killing an innocent man because there was no proof that he was Kira.

"Ryuzaki is dead! He won't be coming back! Do you think he'll be happy seeing you like this?!"

Light looked at you straight in the eye. You sought for that veiled malice in his gaze, but found none to your surprise.

He looked so sincere with his worried gaze for you.. He looked so innocent, angel-like.. like an instrument God had sent to you to save you from your woe.

"I—I don't care what you say! I-If y—"

"You have to accept the fact that he's never coming back! You think killing yourself will bring him back to life?! Why aren't you thinking of the people who're alive and actually care for you? Did you even think about how they'd feel if you leave them?! You have a future! Don't waste it on following someone who's never coming back!"

You lost yourself in those honest hazel irides that you barely noticed him taking the knife from your grip, throwing it away and hugging you tightly. Unable to move, you only continued to let the tears fall in silence.

"I've already lost Ryuzaki. I can't afford to lose another friend."

You squeezed your eyes shut and gave up, succumbing to his warm embrace. You cried your heart out, clinging desperately to the only one you could cling to, utterly blind to the venom coated in his words, completely unbeknownst to the smirk forming on his lips as that gentle hand caressed your back.

"You have me, [Y/N]. You always will."

⋆ฺ｡*:･

He wanted to exploit your weakness to fulfill his ego, to satisfy himself even further. And in this game, he was winning. It had been so easy to lure you closer to his side that he couldn't even believe it himself! Getting you attached to him was almost like tricking a toddler. He was so amused at how fate was bending to his will.

He knew you hated him. He knew you knew he was Kira. But where's the proof? Without it he knew he could twist your beliefs. With him being so tender with you, you started doubting your late boyfriend's belief. Of course, you had also considered the fact he'd been tricking you. But you couldn't see it. Anywhere you looked, there was no flaw.

Absolutely none.

There was no flaw on the act of his blooming love for you. And you...

You were falling for him.

No, you couldn't. You couldn't fall for Kira! The one who murdered your beloved! There was no way!

But how could the man possessing those precious sincere eyes be Kira? How could the light that guided you back to a safe, warm surface, be Kira?

Light couldn't be Kira. Ryuzaki had it all wrong!

You were suddenly torn in between.

It was like tug of war. And in the end you knew Light had caught you. But you refused to admit it. You refused to acknowledge it.

But it was hard. Each day, Light was always by your side, determined to catch the real perpetrator who killed your beloved. He was always there to remind you of how important you were, always there to give you comfort and warmth, always there to make you feel at home... back to your haven.

And so you began to let go of the emotions trying to control you. You had set yourself free.

Free to adore him.

⋆ฺ｡*:･

Sunset approached, and Light couldn't stop smiling malignantly to himself the closer he got to L's grave. When he did, he looked down on it with superiority, a chuckle rumbling from his throat.

He had never felt so much pleasure before. His satisfaction was immeasurable.

"What now, L? You tried to stop me, and not only did you lose your life... You lost the love of your life to me. Me!"

He laughed, and laughed, and laughed, until he couldn't anymore.

He stared at the nameless tomb gravely, the menace in his eyes growing darker. He stood there doing nothing but to stare at his dead nemesis' grave for quite some time, until he was satiated. When he was done and about to leave, he saw a familiar figure walking in the distance. His lips automatically curved to a smirk which he soon hid.

"[Y/N]!" He called out gently, and there came you, looking somehow crestfallen, running into his arms.

You looked up to him with your heart pommeling your sternum. You bit the insides of your cheeks, flushing, and called out his name—but then... he kissed you.

Right in front of Ryuzaki's grave.

He kissed you harder as your body eventually gave in. Kissing you harder and harder with his thoughts taking over him. Harder and harder to the point of almost biting your lip as the pleasure inside him throbbed uncontrollably. He was having a hard time controlling and reminding himself that it wasn't time for that part. At least, not yet.

Look at you, body already going limp with just a kiss.. He could sense it, and he could've laughed at how you tried to deny him during the first seconds of it.

Of course, there was no use to when you no longer had control over your thoughts and actions.

You had completely succumbed to him. 

[gintokisimp]

If you don't have a Past, you can't have a Future. Chapter 1

Short GinTsu stories set 10 years after the final chapter. SPOILERS!

Genre: Fluff, Family

Rating: General Audience

Word Count: 2,864

10 years had passed.

10 years since he thought he lost everything again.

10 years since Takasugi died in his arms.

10 years since another important part of his life had died.

Every time he thought he found happiness, it just slipped through his fingers like fine sand.

I didn't reach anything. I couldn't protect anyone

The long day had made his head dizzy and his thoughts were weighing heavy on him on his dark way home. Once those thoughts started, he couldn't stop them from overwhelming him and spiraling down into more depressing ones.

Coming home to the house, that his unrelated family left, still felt weird on those evenings. Kagura and Shinpachi were living their own lives now. They still worked together almost every day, but the kids left the nest and became adults. He couldn't chain them down to him eternally and it was also never what he intended to do.

Searching for the keys in his pockets, he heard the faint sounds of glasses clanking, cheering and laughter from the bar below. At least some things didn't change over the years, but was it really a good idea to keep living above a busy establishment? He couldn't just leave the memories he made here behind. The importance of those were undescribable and the future can only bring more. Sometimes the noises kept him up at night.

According to his circumstances, he became a very light sleeper in the last years, constantly in a worry that something might happen, always prepared to jump to action. Gladly, it was getting better again and he caught himself sleeping like a stone again more often, with no one disturbing him. That was a lie. Ah how much he wished it was true that no one would disturb his precious sleep. But he wasn't complaining either, the cause of the disturbances were way too precious to him.

He pushed the keys in, but the door opened without him unlocking it. Why wasn't it locked. It's already late and with the recent growth of the city, you never knew what could happen if someone noticed an unlocked home. Especially with that shitty police force, that was entrusted with the 'safety' of the citizens. Gintoki grumbled. He couldn't withstand the thought that some thug could break in and steal his most priced possessions. He slid it open fully and entered the house, locking the door safely behind him.

"Tadaima" he mumbled into the empty building, while shaking off his boots, placing them next to four different sets of shoes.

One pair of high black stilettos,

two pairs of zoris in the exact same size, only colored differently,

and one pair of black boots, similar to his own ones, but in a size that was way too small for Gintoki.

He slowly shuffled to the main room, whose Shoji door was closed, so the small entrance area was quite dark, only allowing a little bit of dim light shining through the thin paper door. It was later than he intended to come home and no one was waiting for him anyways. Before he could reach for the door, the sound of small footsteps startled him.

"haaah" A small figure leaped from the shadows of the small room and tackled him unexpectedly, making him stumble backwards, away from the door.

"oooofff" With no possibility to catch himself, he fell to the ground with an uncomfortable sound and the figure sat down on his legs, fidgeting happily at the successful assault.

The house wasn't so empty after all.

He would have come home to an empty building if it wasn't for her.

Two more shadows joined the figure, one jumped on his chest, while the other tugged on his white sleeve. Gintoki sighed angrily, but couldn't suppress a smile.

"Why are you still up? It's already long past your bedtime. Where is your mother?" He asked the shadows.

"She slept in waiting for you" The almost 9 year old boy on his legs replied.

"Mommy is sleeping, she couldn't stop us!" The 6 year old girl on his chest chirped.

"...sleeping!" The other 6 year old boy tugged on the fabric harshly.

Three.. why three? One was already enough. No wonder she was so tired after all. He cursed his own inability to hold back whenever he saw her walking around a little bit different than usual, she was just too damn beautiful. But how would he have know that they would offspring a pair of twins. How did I even end up in this, I of all people. The one who belongs to no one, the one who doesn't deserve anything. Who was foolish enough to be with me. I really don't deserve this after all that happened, after all those time he hurt her. Even though she was never hurt by his cowardliness.

And yet, the proof of their love was right in front of him.

Having a different family of his own, related by blood.

Love is weird. It hit him when he was at his lowest, time and time again. And after everything had finally come to an end, their time just started. I'm really an idiot for thinking so negative about that. He was blessed with the most adorable kids and a loving wife. He couldn't ask for more. He already had everything he ever wanted.

Lost in his thoughts, the kids stopped to jump on him.

"Papi, where are ya looking?" big bright amethyst eyes shined through silky silver bangs and stared directly into his.

Ah.. she's so beautiful, just like her mother. At least, she didnt inherit his permed hair. But he couldn't say the same about the two boys. Both of them had the same unruly hair, but only their oldest also inherited his eyes. He looked exactly like Gintoki did at that age and he was now in a phase, where he mirrored his parents behavior, requesting a pair of boots that looked like his fathers and proudly stomped around in them. Earlier that week, Shinpachi gave him one his white haori with the distinctive blue swirl patterns and he wore it like it was made out of gold.

He became a mirror of his father with every passing day, except that he inherited none of Gintokis bad features. Except his hair maybe. One day Gintoki would need to tell him, that he can't land a woman with that perm. He would reply that his father landed a woman with that hair, but that was a totally different story.

She always said it was unfair that all three of them looked like him. That wasn't true, they smiled exactly like she did and sometimes they imitated her way of speaking. His hand reached up to ruffle through her hair and she closed her eyes in comfort. Gintoki carefully stood up, keeping her in his arm.

"I wanna be carried too"

"Me too, me too!"

Gintoki felt the weight of the older boy pushing down on his back, while his younger son stretched out his arms in joyful expectation, smiling happily. Their smiles always hit a soft spot in his heart and saying no to these smiles was like saying no to a truckload of strawberry parfaits.

Pure Hell.

He picked up the smiling boy with his free arm, placing him on his hip and kissing his wavy hair. It was freshly washed and smelled like vanilla and strawberries. The scent had become his favorite after some scammy fortune teller on the street told him 10 years ago, that his future smelled like a mix of those treats. He never told anyone why he insisted on buying those specific scents and also no one asked. And even if, he wouldn't admit his reason.

"I want a kiss, I want a kiss"

"You're too old for that"

"Mommy says you're never too old for kisses. She gives you long kisses everywhere, I've seen it. And you're already ancient!" The boy on his back said innocently.

"Fine, you will get one when you're in bed." Gintoki shuddered thinking about the things he meant with 'long kisses everywhere' and decided he would need to start being more careful with what he did around them. They were getting older at a fast rate. It wasn't long until they moved out and he will end up in a wheelchair, crippled of old age.

Fully packed, with a child in each arm and one on his back, he made his way to the shoji door, quietly sliding it open with one of his feet.

Please don't wake up he thought. She would only accuse herself of being a bad mother if she knew that their kids werent in bed and he didnt want that to happen. She was a good mother, the best mother.

Tsukuyo was sitting on the couch, wrapped in a thin blanket, her head slightly tilted, breathing calmly. She must have had an exhausting day at work, if she was able to sleep in a position like that. The room was lit by two candles on the table next to her. Gintoki stopped in his tracks. He was stunned to see her like this, smiling lightly in her sleep. Her beauty always knocked him out at the most unexpected moments.

"Hey why did you stop" His daughter whispered.

"Don't look at mommy like that, it's creepy." The boy in his arm continued her thoughts.

"Shhh, quiet" His cheeks flushed, caught staring at his wife by his own damn kids. He continued his way to the stairs and started to climb them, groaning under the extra weight on his back. The new part of their home was added right after the twins came. Gintoki refused to move out, saying he didn't want to give up the free of charge babysitter that was living downstairs. He couldn't admit that he just wanted to stay here close to her and continue protecting her. That old woman was more important in his life than he wanted to concede.

With the countless connections he had, he was able to get a good offer for the extension of the house, adding two stories in total, making it big enough for his growing family. That way, it was also possible to use the ground floor for office purposes only, but they still used it as a private space from time to time, away from the kids. The kids bedrooms were on the upper floor, so he had to climb another set of stairs, leaving him panting. They were getting too heavy to be carried and the hard work from the last days had already strained him enough.

"Papi, you're weak" The kid on his back snickered while Gintoki got down to let him jump from his back. The twins on his hips were already sleeping.

"Yes, maybe. Your mom is a lot stronger than I am" He replied, a little bit hurt.

The boy slid from his back, now standing in front of him, picking his nose.

"I told you numerous times already, stop doing that. If you continue this, you will pick your brain out" Gintoki scolded him.

"Is that why mom always says you're an utter idiot?" He replied.

Gintoki blinked, stunned

"She says that?.. to whom?" Was that really something new though?

"Everyone"

Gintoki pouted. "I'm not an idiot.." He mumbled.

"I know, she loves you"

The boys crimson eyes stared directly into his, lazily, while he continued to pick his nose, uninterested in the conversation. Gintoki felt like looking into a mirror. Dazed, he tried to process how intelligent that child could be sometimes. Kids are weird.

"Go to bed, I'm coming in a minute."

He stood up and carried the twins to their rooms. Looking at the justaway clock, he wasn't surprised they were sleeping in his arms. He sighed. I really need to stop coming home so late. It didn't happen that often, but he always felt guilty when if occurred. Carefully, he placed them in their beds and tugged them in, planting a kiss on their foreheads. The moon was shining through the window on the small silhouettes. Gintoki kneeled beside them, observed their hair shining silver in the faint light. How could someone like him spawn something to beautiful. But his own moons beauty was mainly involved in that as well, so it wasn't really a surprise.

"Good night" He whispered to them and left them room. The twins were sleeping in the same bed since they have been born. They refused to split up as they grew older. But the day will come sooner or later.

Gintoki sneaked into the older boys room. He hoped that he had already fallen asleep as well, but his eyes were shining at him, as he entered through the open door. He kneeled down next to him and patted his perm.

"Close your eyes or a ghost will steal them." Gintoki teased him.

"Ghosts don't exist" He simply replied.

"How do you know that?"

"I'm not stupid"

Gintokis eyebrow twitched and he patted the boys head a little harder.

"Please treat mommy right, she always misses you when you come home late" The boy whispered.

"I will" Gintoki replied after a long pause.

He was about to stand up, but remembered his promise. Bending down, he placed a light kiss on the kids forehead and the boy closed his eyes, smiling Tsukuyos smile. Gintoki stood up and left the room and climbed down the stairs to the office.

She was still sleeping, peacefully, looking incredibly pretty while doing so. He sat down next to her, carefully sliding his arms around her. He planned to pick her up and carry her to bed as well. As soon as he touched her, she fidgeted and slightly opened her eyes.

"huh..? Gintoki -"

He hushed her with a kiss and she closed her eyes again, answering his kiss with a light smile. Gintoki deepened the kiss, nibbled on her lower lip until she let out a silent moan.

"I'm home" he whispered when they parted and smiled. Her tired eyes fell on the clock and she cursed herself.

"Ah shit I slept in, I waited for ya, I wanted t' show ya something." She said sleepily.

"It's fine, I'm sure you had a lot of work today. Did they behave in grannys care?" He asked while stroking her hair.

"I don't know, I wasn't really able t' ask about that. I had a lot of paperwork t'day and she was also busy when I came to pick them up.."

"You should really stop working that much, you don't even have time for yourself anymore. That's not healthy" Gintoki played with one of her loose strands of hair.

"And you're t' lazy, we couldn't even pay the rent if I would rely on ya working ambitions" She pulled the hair out of his hand.

"You don't need money to be happy" He looked her straight into her eyes, his fingers still moving as if the hair was still there.

"You need money to feed your kids." She retorted. True.

"You don't even need to work that much, you have enough money." He sighed.

"I don't do it for the money" Tsukuyo whispered.

".. I know" Lazily, he ran his hand across her back, resting his head on her shoulder. She hummed satisfied.

"What did you wanted to show me anyways?" He asked after a few minutes, sitting up straight.

"oh.. nothing special. I bought something." She replied sleepily, shifting the blanket, revealing a lacy nightgown and a set of new lingerie he hadn't seen before. Critical Hit.

They didn't really had the opportunities anymore for some sexy time alone, so sometimes he felt like a little cherry boy, when she flashed him in the most unexpected places. His head turned bright red and strained, he looked in another direction, avoiding to meet her seducing gaze.

"We.. uh.. we can do that on the weekend. How - how does that sound?" Gintoki stuttered and she lifted a hand to run it across his neck. She's tired, she needs to sleep and not some endless hours filled with pleasure given to her by the best lover in the whole town. But if she didn't stop now, he would end up making her another child.

"No, I want.. now.." She yawned again and closed her tired eyes, while she guided one of his hands to her chest. He still had his head turned away from her, but his eyes peeked at her. It took all his willpower to withdraw his hand from her chest and place it on her back.

"Let's get you to bed as well" He picked her up, carefully covering up the corrupting clothes with the blanket and carried her into their bedroom. When he placed her on the futon, she already snored lightly. Gintoki undressed himself and laid down next to her, pulling her into his arms. Her sweet scent clouded his mind and she hummed slightly. Not long after, he drifted into a deep sleep.

I think I reached a lot.

If you don't have a past, you can't have a future.

[thegirlwhocried-justcried]

Diary Entry 9/17 - 9/19

He pushed me hard against a locker, his arm on my neck, stepping on my feet and holding my wrist together with one hand. I had no chance of getting away, sure I had strong legs, but his force was way too much. In a flash he moved me too he middle of the hallway. A small group formed around us, loud silence filling the air. My wrists already started to hurt, but I knew I would have to endure much more than that. I was surprised no one said anything and I wondered where the teachers went. That thought quickly went away as he started talking.

“Now that your silly little boyfriend is absent. I get to take his spot.”

My eyes watered, I needed to try to say something,

“MATT, PENNY, ANYO-“ His grip tightened around my neck, my throat ached already. I had called my best friends hoping someone would call them or they could hear me.

“Now, now, pretty lady. No one can help you. You will get a punishment for even trying to get help.” He chuckled, a low evil chuckle. My eyes needed to water but I had to stay strong. He pulled me closer to him, sudden sharp pain in my arms as they were folded harshly behind me. Now, he had a free hand. More people had come to watch.

“Heh. Now we have a lot of people to entertain dont we, babygirl.” As if something hurt them, my ears stung at the pet name. My “little boyfriend” and I would call eachother babygirl and babyboy since the be beginning. It hurt a lot just hearing someone else call me that and having no ability to say something, and no one else saying anything either. With no mercy he slid his freehand down my leggings; Something this morning told me not to wear leggings, and I should have listened. He rubbed circles by my heat, although it felt nothing like heat. It felt like bitter cold. I couldn’t hold my tears in any longer. I closed my eyes as he went faster, what felt like an ocean running down my cheeks.

“Why aren’t you getting wet?” His voice loud enough for just a few people nearby to hear,

“Why aren’t you enjoying this, baby girl?” I struggled as I tried to answer. He loosened his grip on my throat to let me talk. My arms, feet, throat and heat burned in pain. All I could do is sob. Loudly.

“ANSWER YOU BRAT!” At this point I realized that he had very little patience. The group around started making commotion, Matt came running through the crowd, looking furious. Once he got there I could see pure terror in his eyes, then pure anger. Matt wasn’t a big guy, nor was he muscular, but he was popular and offaly stubborn.

“JOVAN YOU ARE SO GOING TO REGRET THIS. JOSH, PETER, COM HELP ME. PENNY GO GET THE PRINCIPLE. WAIT TILL HER BOYFRIEND COMES BACK IN 2 DAYS.” Matt was yelling, you could see the hatred and hunger for revenge in his eyes. Josh and Peter were already taking Jovan out, beating him and loosening his grip. I fell the the ground on my hands and knees. Matt bent down beside me. He hugged me, I felt so warm, glad someone cared to save me.

“Im so sorry I didn’t come sooner.” Matt’s voice serious and gentle, something I had never heard before.

“It’s … not ur …. fault,” I said between hiccups and sobs. The rest of what happened I could not remember. All I remembered was that Jovan was expelled, and dreading the day back to school. I was absent for a day then came back, the same day my boyfriend was.

“You’re gonna tell ‘milk’ the news today right?” Penny said, usually she was the one to cheer me on, but today she was as gentle and as calm as Matt was yesterday.

“Of course…” I was still shaken, I was quiet and wore the baggiest clothes in my closet. I knew my eyes where poofy, and my hair was a mess. Something very out of place. And many people could tell. Milk was the code name me and most of my friends used for my boyfriend’s name. It worked pretty well. Walking through the kids in the hall was only part of the dread. My boyfriend was in my first class, while walking there everyone glanced and made way for me to pass. I felt, judged. Embarrassed. Almost angry, but not quite there.

I walked in the classroom, all eyes on me. I almost broke down, even the teacher had a pity look on his face as he looked me up and down. I sat down next to my boyfriend.

“Hey babygirl, sorry I was absent 3 days in a row!” Then it hit me, he knew nothing, not even that Jovan was expelled.

“It’s ok…” I said quietly. I couldn’t look into his eyes, I felt guilty even though I did nothing wrong. Everyone started to mumble and talk, the teacher left the class to hall monitor since technically class hadn’t started yet.

“Are you alright, baby girl?” He asked, not slightly trying to hide his worry, his concern.

“You didn’t hear?” A girl named Emerald asked, “Jovan got expelled yesterday.”

“Why?” He was completely clueless. Emerald looked at my boyfriend then at me. After a few seconds she looked down. My boyfriend then turned to me.

“Baby, why did Jovan get expelled?” He said, gently and in a whisper.

All I could answer with was another round of sobbing. His eyes seemed to pop out of his head, he quickly leaned over and hugged me. I sobbed in his chest, I sobbed even harder than the day before. He lead me outside the classroom and took me to the library. Empty. As he hoped it would be.

“Shhhh, baby girl it’s ok…” I calmed down the best I could. I looked him in the eyes, his eyes full of sadness and hint of frustration. He didn’t seem Frustrated anywhere else, then I realized he was very good at hiding his feelings.

“Please tell me what happened,” his voice was different now, worried…desperate. I could only tell him a quick summary before I broke down again. I huddled by my boyfriend this time. When I looked up into his eyes, they were filled with anger. This anger in his eyes was something I had never seen before. It was so much, it was not anger anymore, it was something else. Something… undescribable. The anger was covered with guilt.

“I’m so sorry,” I was surprised at how much control he had. His body controlled, his tears controlled, the only thing that was not controlled where the feelings inside him. I could read his eyes better than anyone else I knew. And I knew that the next time he would see Jovan, it would not be pretty.