#l&f

[ae-azile]

Lost & Found: Chapter 2 Preview

He welcomes Big into his bed again that night. The thought of being alone is off-putting, and Big seems okay with staying. In fact, he seems as relieved as Chan feels to have company.

“Did Khun Korn give you today off too?” Big asks as he slips under the covers next to him, “I didn't see you around.”

Chan gives Big a sort-of motion with his hand before turning onto his side to face Big, “I met him for lunch. Played chess and discussed a book he decided we both needed to read a couple of weeks ago. He's worse than Tankhun when it comes to needing a guard around to entertain him.”

Big snorts, “I doubt it.”

“It's true,” Chan says, “He's incredibly needy and annoying.”

And then, he remembers that he is talking to a guard under his supervision.

“I mean…” Chan says, correcting himself while Big fails to hold back an amused grin, “He's…an intellectual who wants his guards to take part in his hobbies.”

“Like father, like son.”

“Pretty much,” Chan says, but he remembers not minding so much with Tankhun. Granted, Tankhun was eleven when Chan started, he wasn't kidnapped for six more years. Back then, he was a child who had an unfair amount of responsibilities and pressure on his shoulders. Chan hadn't minded entertaining Tankhun.

He wishes he hadn't been on leave in London when the kidnapping occurred. It is why he has kept his trips short and rare since.

“But it wasn’t so bad this time,” Chan says, “He didn't keep me. I was allowed to work from here and focus on scheduling. How was your day?”

“Khun Kinn had a few meetings,” Big says, “Porsche attended a couple of them, or he sat out in the lounge with me on standby.”

Chan raises an eyebrow at that, “He didn't have you go in to be on guard for Khun Kinn? In case things went wrong?”

“I was supposed to,” Big says, inching a little closer, “But Khun Chatri made a few comments to me at lunch, so Porsche and Kinn arranged it so Gear went with them into the conference room.”

“Comments?” Chan asks. Big stays silent for a moment, then shrugs the inquiry away.

“So you're flying out on Sunday-”

“What comments?” Chan asks. Big looks reluctant to say. When Chan gives him a moment, only to still get nothing, he breathes out through his nose and pulls Big even closer. Big scoots in immediately, entering Chan’s space until their heads are resting on the same pillow.

“Nothing horrible,” Big says quietly, hesitating at first, but tentatively resting his arm around Chan. Since Big is doing it to him, Chan returns the gesture, “They were just inappropriate.”

“Inappropriate how?”

“He said that he would like some pre-trained guards, that whoever trains us must be highly competent, at least from what he's heard,” Big says, “He was pushing for a guard to be included in the trade. I'm not sure if he was actually serious. But he said I would be at the top of his list. That I was…pretty. That my duties would extend past standing on guard and that he would put…specific orifices to use-”

Chan picks his head up suddenly, “He said that?”

“It was cruder, but he had also been drinking-”

“No excuse,” Chan mutters, turning onto his back to grab his phone.

Big props himself up, “What are you doing?”

Chan doesn't answer as he creates a text with both Kinn and Porsche.

Chan: I will be changing the schedule around until the Chatri deal is closed and he is no longer regularly coming around the compound. Gear, First, and Job will be your guards throughout the rest of the week.

Kinn: Okay. I take it Big mentioned how Chatri conducted himself?

Chan: He told me Chatri made sexual comments and offers. While I realize the guards are expected to risk their lives under necessary circumstances, it is not a part of the contract for them to face unwanted advances or harassment from our so-called allies. I understand that severing the Chatri deal would cause tension and not be in the best interest for the family's various business dealings with him, but it is not acceptable for him to conduct himself the way he did this afternoon. He will no longer have access to Big.

Kinn: We took steps once we realized Chatri’s behavior might continue. However, I believe having Big stationed elsewhere during Chatri’s appointments will be for the best as well. I am glad he felt comfortable telling you, especially if the situation made him uneasy or upset. I will make sure to debrief with him in the morning so that he knows Chatri’s propositions were unacceptable and that he doesn't need to put up with that kind of situation should it ever arise again.

Porsche: We would never sell Big!

Good, because Chan might turn on the entire family and burn down the compound if a deal like that occurred. He doesn't put the threat out there though.

Porsche: I could tell it pissed Big off. I tried to get him to talk about it when we switched him out, but he remained annoyingly professional and stoic.

Chan: Which is why it might be important to make the guards' autonomy and expectations clear. This is not the first time something like this has happened - to Big or a few of the other guards. While I have told them to calmly but firmly set up boundaries with visiting allies and associates if something like this occurs, they might be more likely to do it if they heard it from Khun Kinn.

Kinn: I'm sure Pa has said something to them in the past.

He hasn't. Chan knows Korn has not said a word about situations where guards get harassed or asked for when it comes to a potential trade. Korn wants the guards to feel cared for and financially stable, but never secure or truly safe.

Chan: He hasn't, at least to my knowledge. We have several younger guards here who have various forms of trauma, little to no support systems outside of their coworkers, and might not know how to handle an imbalance like that. Big has seniority over most of them, but he is only 28. Chatri is twice his age, extremely wealthy, and should have never put Big in that position.

Porsche: Agreed! When he groped Big, I almost flipped out at him. 😡 If you had seen it, I KNOW you would have intimidated the shit out of the guy.

Chan looks away from his phone and stares at Big sharply, “He touched you?”

Big keeps his arm around Chan’s middle, “Are you talking to Kinn or Porsche?”

“Both,” Chan says, then lets out a harsh breath, “Were you ever alone with him?”

Big shrugs, “Just to escort him into the East Wing dining area.”

“Did anything happen during that time?”

“Comments,” is all Big says at first, but then elaborates, “He's done it a few times over the years, but he was surprisingly bold today. Maybe he is getting an early form of dementia and doesn't care about how he comes across anymore-”

“He's not,” Chan grunts out as he focuses on his phone, “He knows exactly what he's doing.”

“Clearly not if he thinks I'm worth throwing into a business deal.”

Chan pauses, then puts his phone back down on his chest, “I would say that you are wrong since your assumption seems to be coming from a self-deprecating place, but no human should be thrown into a business deal or bought.”

Big doesn't have anything to say to that, so Chan picks up his phone again. He wants details. He wants to know how bad it was so he can figure out a way to kill Chatri and not have it traced back to him. But even if it was, he would stand by his decision.

Chan: Elaborate on what you mean by “grope.”

Porsche: You guys are really close, huh? You sound so protective of him 🥰

Chan: Elaborate.

Porsche: 🙄 Fine. You should know, so I’ll tell you. Chatri was AWFUL to him! He was literally trying to push Big up against a wall and undo his pants when I turned the corner to meet them. Big dodged him and got some distance between them, but still! Pissed me off, and I could tell Big was pissed off too.

As Chan turns his head to look at Big again, Big jerks his own back slightly at Chan’s expression.

“...I'm sure they are making it sound worse than it was-”

“Stop,” Chan grunts before his phone pings again.

Kinn: I made it clear to Chatri that Big was never going to be a part of a deal and to refrain from touching any of our guards if he wanted to keep our connection positive and lucrative. And again, I will make sure to check in with Big tomorrow. Or tonight, if he is available.

Porsche: Since he just told you, I assume he might be nearby? You can send him over. We’d be happy to apologize for what happened, reassure him that we will advocate for him, and encourage him to advocate for himself if something similar happens in the future.

Chan stares at his phone for a minute, then glances at Big. They are both already in their pajamas. Big looks relaxed despite his day, and he is gently twirling the fabric of Chan’s grey t-shirt around his fingers.

Chan: He can meet with you tomorrow. Good night.

“Are you mad?”

Chan sighs, “Not at you. At Chatri. And at myself for scheduling you for meetings with him. I really wish you would have told me this has been an issue in the past.”

“He hasn't come around that much, not since he invested in the resort chain,” Big says, then focuses on Chan’s shirt again, “We weren't as close then.”

“No, but we were close enough. I mentored you,” Chan says, “I wish you would have come to me about it. I would have made sure it stopped being a problem much sooner. And if it somehow continued anyway, I would have done everything in my power to protect you.”

Big stares at him wide eyed before clearing his throat and looking away again, “It wasn't that serious.”

Maybe not compared to other things they have faced, but it feels more than serious enough to Chan.

“Just promise me you won't hesitate telling me if something like that happens again,” Chan says, “It doesn't matter who, but if you feel like someone is…abusing their power to manipulate you or see how much you will put up with…even if it's me-”

“Even if it's you?” Big says, lifting his head up, “What do you mean?”

Now, Chan is the one who feels tight lipped.

“Chan? What do you mean?”

Fine. He’ll just say it.

“I realize that our…friendship…” Chan starts, then briefly closes his eyes, “I realize what we are doing is not typical, especially with the differences in our rank.”

Big stays quiet, his arms still around Chan’s middle. Chan feels himself sharply breathes in with surprise when Big leans in and rests his cheek against Chan’s shoulder.

“I don't have a problem with this,” Big says, “If I did, I wouldn't initiate…things like this most of the time. It's normally me who starts it, Phi.”

That's true.

“You don't intimidate me. Sorry.”

As Chan huffs out a laugh, Big props himself up on Chan’s chest and Chan lifts his hand to run it up and down Big’s back.

“Are you uncomfortable by this?” Big asks him.

No. Maybe not knowing what is exactly happening between them is uncomfortable. Not knowing how to proceed or if he even should is also uncomfortable. But Big’s proximity, Big’s touch, and the closeness that has developed between them over the last year and a half is a comfort.

He wants Big to move back in. It would be so easy. They don't even need to redo the office. Big doesn’t seem to mind sleeping here in the bed with him. Last night, Chan offered. Tonight, Big was the one to ask to stay the night with him.

So maybe Chan isn't pressuring him.

“Do you…” Big starts, then tries again, “If you want me to leave-”

“No.”

“Or stop touching you…” Big says, then looks down at Chan’s chest. When he makes a move to lift himself off, Chan shifts his arm underneath him and pulls him back in.

“No,” Chan murmurs. Big - now resting inside the crook of his arm - looks up at him with a mixture of hope and hesitation. All Chan can do is lift his other hand to cup Big’s cheek. Big keeps his eyes on him as he lifts his own hand to keep Chan’s right where it is.

“I like you,” Big says, his voice sounding slightly strangled, “It's uh…It's a lot more than just like, but I don't want to fuck up everything between us if you don't feel the same way. So that's all I'm willing to say for now.”

[dumfanting]

Lost and Found, ch 2

Chapter 1

Inspired by: Still Life

AO3 Link

Rating: M, mature

Warnings: makeouts, foreplay, panic attacks, homelessness

Notes: F Jedi reader, present tense, pov second person

2523 words

(I don’t know if that’s how armor and promotions work, but I also don’t really care that much.)

F Reader/ Nax (the clone veteran)

You hand the comm back to Estree, confused. Who else in the galaxy would you recognize on this planet? Moreover, why does he need your help specifically?

The door closes, and when you turn around, the silent room feels like it’s spinning. You lean back onto the door and slide into a heap on the floor, trying to control your heavy breathing and fight off the panic attack that is threatening to overwhelm you. You tilt your head back and close your eyes, attempting to clear your mind the way you had less than an hour ago, but you have no luck. All you can think about is Nax. You drop your head back down, stare into your open hands, and only realize that you’re finally crying when you notice the wet droplets landing onto your palms. You wipe your eyes with a sniff and get to your feet, deciding that you don’t want to deal with anything else today. After relocking your door, you quickly wash up the two used mugs, then trudge your way to bed. Once you undress and settle under the duvet, you’re asleep the moment your head hits the pillow.

You’re back in your quarters on Coruscant, meditating. As the sound of soft rain comes in through the slightly opened window, you take a deep breath, breathing in the oddly comforting smell and feeling connected to the Force and the galaxy at large. It’s peaceful.

Peace doesn’t seem to last long around you though, and a sudden, excited sounding knock on your door breaks the silence. You get to your feet, and once you step closer, you can Sense Nax before you hear him. I guess the mission was a success, you think, if he’s back this soon. You unlock your door and slide it open to find Nax standing in the hallway outside, grinning at you. You quickly poke your head out, look in both directions but see nobody nearby, then grab his hand and pull him inside. His lips are on yours before the door has closed completely. You allow this for a few seconds, then playfully push him off of you.

“Not even a ‘hello’, huh?” you say, smirking at him.

“Nope,” Nax says, smirking back at you.

“The mission went well then?” you ask.

“You could say that,” he says, gesturing to his upgraded armor. You stand back and take a look, not so subtly eyeing him up at the same time.

“It looks good, right?” he says, showing off. You take a few steps forward and run your hands along his smooth, unmarred chest plate, humming appreciatively.

“Yes, it suits you,” you say. You then hook your fingers into the gap between his armor and collarbone and pull him closer to you.

“But you know where this would look best?” you ask, your voice dropping an octave. Nax looks at you, curious. You giggle and kiss him, hard.

“In a pile at the foot of my bed,” you purr. “Don’t you think so, Lieutenant?” you continue, calling him by his new rank, and you don’t miss the way his demeanor shifts when you do. He kisses you with even more fervor than he had only minutes ago, and when he breaks away, his breathing is heavy and his pupils are blown with desire.

“That can be arranged, Commander,” he says, his husky voice rumbling directly into your ear and making you shiver.

You step back and turn to close the window, making sure that you two couldn’t be heard too easily. When you turn back, Nax already has his gauntlets, pauldron, and chest plate stripped off. You bite your lip and excitedly paw at his codpiece. At the same time, the both of you move automatically sideways toward your bed. Your knees bump the side of the mattress at the same moment his codpiece hits the floor. He bends to start unclipping the remaining pieces around his legs, but you boldly palm him through his blacks, and he stops with a loud groan.

“Don’t bother,” you say, pulling your hand back and quickly sliding your leggings down. “I need you, now,” you say, panting.

Nax groans your name and cups your groin, sending a shockwave of need through your core. He kisses you again, leading you onto the bed behind you. You lie back and spread your legs, and just before he’s able to join you, there’s a persistent, loud knock at your door.

You sit up straight in your bed, groaning in irritation at being woken up just before ‘the good part’ of your dream. You’re about to flop back down and try to go back to sleep, but the knocking happens again. You glance at the chrono nearby and notice that it’s only been about four or five hours since Master Kenobi left. The mere idea that something may have happened to him, and so soon, prompts you to practically leap out of bed and yank your robe back on before stepping out of your room and in front of the apartment entry door.

You switch on the intercom camera, and find, to your simultaneous relief and annoyance, that it’s Estree again.

“What is it?” you say, talking to him through the intercom speaker.

“It’s Ben,” Estree says, seeming to confirm your fears. Your door is unlocked and opened as soon as he says this.

“Is he okay? What happened to him?” you ask, trying to hold off the rising anxiety in your chest. Estree holds his hands up with his palms out.

“He’s alright, I promise you. He has a message for you, and asked me to bring it here,” he says. You make a ‘what are you waiting for’ sound at him, and he digs through his pockets before handing you a holo-comm device. There’s a red light blinking on the side, which stops after you activate the device.

It’s Master Kenobi. He has the hood of his robes up and despite the noise of the crowd around him, he keeps his voice low. He looks shaken, as if he’s seen a ghost.

“I found someone, and he needs help that I cannot give, so it must come from you,” Master Kenobi says in the recording, before he quickly gives you a location. “I don’t know for sure if he’ll still be here, but if he is, you’ll know when you see him. I’m sorry I can’t be more specific, but I must focus on getting Leia back.” The recording distorts into static, then ends entirely.

You hand the comm back to Estree, confused. Who else in the galaxy would you recognize on this planet? Moreover, why does he need your help specifically?

“He didn’t say anything about who this is to you, did he?” you ask him. He shakes his head.

“No, I only have that message,” he says, sounding unusually somber. You repeat the location Master Kenobi had given under your breath, then curse.

“Dammit, that’s miles from here…” you mutter to yourself. Estree speaks up.

“It’s actually not that far from where I came, I can take you there on my speeder bike on the way back,” he says.

You pause for a moment, surprised by his earnest offer of help. Even if Estree didn’t know who this person was, Master Kenobi had clearly convinced him of how important the matter is. You don’t like him, and you certainly don’t trust him, but you do trust Master Kenobi.

“Yeah, okay, just- just give me a second to actually get dressed, and I’ll go with you,” you say, trying to convince yourself as you speak. Estree simply nods and says that he’ll give you a few minutes.

With that, you shut the door, dash back into your room and quickly change into the ‘street clothes’ you wear to blend in. As you pull your boots on, you stop and stare at a long, thin wooden box with a heavy lock on it. You debate fiercely with yourself. After a second, Estree sneezes outside and reminds you that you’re in a hurry, so you grit your teeth, use the Force to unlock the box, and gingerly pick the item inside out of it. You secure it tightly inside a hidden pocket of your long coat, and as you return to the hallway where Estree is, you pray to the Maker that you won’t need it.

After around half an hour, Estree stops his speeder bike near the location Master Kenobi had given you. You hop off, then turn back to Estree. You say nothing but give him a single, firm nod. He does the same before quickly getting out of there. You watch him go, and a small part of you wonders if Master Kenobi knows what he’s up to. Someone bumps into you, drawing your attention back to your surroundings. You flip your hood up and look around.

You dimly recognize the crowded street and nearby square, but can’t recall when you were last here. You glance around, looking for a better vantage point to examine your surroundings. After a few seconds, you spot a place, then slip through the crowd and take a set of steps up to the doorway of a bar that sits higher above the ground level. You stand to the side, trying not to be conspicuous as you glance around at all the faces surrounding you, but you don’t recognize anyone. You unconsciously grip the item in your pocket, then retreat back downwards.

You duck under the steps and into the shadows, then close your eyes and try to Sense something, anything. You furrow your brow in concentration, but find nothing.

You keep your hand in your pocket and decide to skirt around the perimeter of the square; you’ll move out further if you don't find anything. You pause to adjust the mask you wear to hide your nose and mouth, then begin to move.

You’re about two thirds of the way around the area before you feel it. Whoever you’re looking for, you can faintly Sense him. You concentrate, then head down a wide street, keeping near the sidewalks. As you move, the feeling of familiarity grows stronger and unsettles you. This is similar to when you had sensed Master Kenobi, but there’s a strong feeling of loss and even fear attached to it that you didn’t experience with him. You fight back the returning anxiety and keep moving.

“Spare a credit?” is said nearby, and you immediately freeze. You know that voice. Your heart pounding hard against your breast bone, you move backward a few steps, turn your head to the side, and find someone at your feet.

“Help a veteran get a warm meal.”

You’re hit with the feeling of familiarity and intense loss so hard when you meet the homeless clone’s eyes that you stumble backward, catching yourself on a streetlight.

Nax watches you in a sad, hopelessly detached way, as if he’s expecting you to just ignore him the way everyone else does. He doesn’t recognize you, and you barely recognize him.

His armor was filthy, scuffed, and even deeply cracked in some places. The once bright white plastoid and sapphire blue paint having turned grey and black under almost a decade of dirt, damage, and Maker knows what else. His helmet is off and upturned at his feet. There’s a glint of two or three credits resting inside, and the shine of the metal exaggerates the pitiful condition of what contains them. He had been so proud of that armor.

His hair, so neatly cut before, has grown out, streaks of grey standing out against the dark black, and it’s matted in several places. His face is unshaven, a beard having also grown out, giving him a wild, untamed look, and his skin is dull and pockmarked. It’s obvious that he hasn’t been able to bathe in a very long time, and even from this distance you could faintly smell him. His face is thin and his cheekbones are prominent.

Even his eyes are different. They’re also dull, appear sunken, and are filled with a deep pain that makes you wonder what he’d been through. Only the dark, rich brown is unchanged.

After a few seconds in which you don’t move, he looks away, and you feel a gust of dejection and humiliation blow off of him. Your heart shatters as you realize that he’s probably gotten used to being gawked at, just like you’re doing now, and you tear your eyes away from him.

You lean heavily against the streetlight, your head spinning, as panic is quickly setting in. Despite the dark, chilly night, it’s suddenly too bright, too hot, too loud. Before you can stop it, you suddenly flash back to the last time you had ever seen him. You grasp at the sides of your head and fall into an odd crouch as the memory echoes around your mind.

Whether it was from exertion or emotion, tears were streaming down Nax’s face and fear filled his eyes. Panting, he told you to run in a shaky whisper before firing at you again, aiming for your chest. You barely deflected the shot, and he roared for you to get the hell out of there.

It’s hard to breathe, so you yank your mask down past your chin without thinking about it and gasp for air, your heated breaths coming out in clouds and dissipating quickly. Your entire body trembles while sweat beads onto your forehead, and it feels like your heart is going to burst out of your chest.

You were so sure he was dead. You told yourself years ago that he’d probably been ‘decommissioned’ by a cruel Empire or slaughtered on a distant battlefield just like countless numbers of his brothers. Whether you were aware of it or not, you mourned him every single day. How did he wind up here? How long ago had he arrived? Did you ever pass him by before, so consumed by your own fear and grief that you’d simply never noticed him?

You growl and wrench your hands off of your head, then grip your lightsaber in your pocket. As you do, your stomach churns and you wonder how many other Jedi he’d attacked. You cut that thought off immediately and force yourself to regain control of your breathing. It takes a lot of effort, but the past decade of practice you’ve had at fighting away panic attacks ensures that it doesn’t take long to do it.

With your breaths fairly steady, and the full body shakes having cooled down to an occasional twitch, you stand up straight, pushing through the residual dizziness. You hesitate, then face Nax again.

This time, when your eyes meet his, there’s a flash of recognition there before it’s quickly overshadowed by something else. What exactly that something else is, you don’t get a chance to see, as only a second later, Nax is on his feet and pushing his way through the crowd as quickly as he can in an effort to get away from you. He’d left so quickly that he’d completely abandoned his helmet. You quickly snatch it up before someone else does and rush after him.

Taglist: @rain-on-kamino @kaminocasey @madameminor @jennamelinda12 @arctrooper69 @the-cantina @jedi-hawkins

[sirphillipcranestanaccount]

Phillip and Eloise walk in on Hyacinth and a teenage Amanda giggling on the couch.

It makes them both uneasy.

What are they whispering about?

“Hey Amanda, did I ever tell you about the hickey your mom had on her neck when I saw her the day after she first went to your dad’s house?”

[companionwolf]

Draft .75 for Birdwatch Feelings, now formatted as a zine (presented as pages here). Please excuse the bits of placeholder text and art; if this ever goes up for real, I'll get original artwork.

[thehufflebean]

Two new chapters of Lost & Found just hit ao3! Happy New Year!

[ravenkings]

[ctrlzxoo]

ROUND 7: amongst a sea of green, is a glimpse of snow

Bonus: happy end(?)

[clownsuu]

nyaaaasty

also random doodle dump JDHDHDD

Bonus:

Im havin a rough time, but the urge to draw human bill in a comically large fur coat is immaculate

[ae-azile]

Working on chapter 2 of Lost & Found because ChanBig is rotting my brain for some reason. The plan was to not have them become more romantic until Chan goes to London to care for his father and they are long distance. But they are literally holding each other in bed and talking about their days, so idk if they are listening. 😂😭

[keferon]

The moment I saw Orion Pax flipping off the authorities I knew that this is going to be my perfect transformers movie

Because YES of course Optimus Prime is all serious and responsible and polite and stuff. He has to be that way. And of course Megatron is all charismatic and powerful. He has to be that way too.

BUT

Between their past selves??

Orion is the one who jumps off the roofs to fight jets in the air even though he can't fucking fly himself

And Megatron is the one who hides under the table during the bar fight

And I absolutely love them being that way

Transformers one gives me everything I need ahahah

[animatedtext]

requested by f-a-b-l-e

[canisalbus]

Ah yes, the "please crush my soul back into my body" maneuver.

[actressposts]

[kykyonthemoon]

Red Stains

You've got a new lipstick and can't wait to test out the color,

on his face.

✧ — Character x F!Reader ✧ — 16+, MDNI, suggestive themes, established relationships, soft fluff, touchy, marking ✧ — Requested by Wytchie Pie.

✿ Masterlist

✿ Request a fic

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

While Caleb was in the living room playing his video game, you walked in with a new lipstick. It was hard not to tease him more when you saw how committed he was to the game. Reaching him from behind the couch, you put your arms around his neck and raised his chin to meet your gaze. You leaned down to give his left cheek a kiss. Then you hurried out of the room.

Though a little taken aback, Caleb simply grinned to himself and carried on playing the game. Not even your scarlet lipstick on his cheek did he notice.

After a while, you returned to the room. You interrupted his match again like the first time and gave him another kiss, this time on the right cheek. With a scowl, Caleb warned you: "Don't be naughty."

But you did not listen. You went into the bathroom again to apply another layer of lipstick. When would he find out that his face was covered with your lip stains? He had such a cute and goofy expression. Should you not tell him, would people laugh at him when he got out at last?

Being laughed at was his punishment. For playing games all afternoon and paying no attention to you. You went back to the living room, sneakily behind the sofa again and encircled him with your arms...

All of a sudden, he grabbed your wrist, bending you over. He leaned his head back to touch your lips and locked it with a kiss. Surprised, you leaped back and attempted to flee. After hurling the console onto the chair, Caleb got up, circled the couch, and seized you.

His hands clamped around your waist, making you turn to face him. “I told you not to be naughty.”

As you looked at the screen with the large word DEFEATED displayed, you laughed. In response, you said:

“You lost because you're terrible at this game. It's not my fault.”

“You're still in the mood to tease me?”

Caleb made an angry face, but all you saw was a cute guy with two lipstick marks on his face. He still held you tightly in his arms to prevent you from escaping. He gently lifted you up so that your bare feet rested on his.

“You tried the lipstick marking thing on my face again, didn't you”

"How do you know that?"

“I can smell it.” Caleb smirked. He could position you against the couch with style in only one spin.

“Caleb?” You were a bit surprised. He still refused to let you go but pressed closer to you.

“Make amends.” Caleb said, his voice a bit coy, making you blush. Normally, it's you who wheedle.

"What kind of compensation do you want?..." You hesitated, but you had good reason to be concerned. Because as soon as you finished speaking, you felt a bit regretful when Caleb suddenly attacked you with a passionate kiss.

When he finally let go to let you catch your breath, he rubbed your head, causing your hair to go untidy. Your fingers still lingered on his shoulder, and your red lips seemed to be inviting for another kiss. Caleb could not let you win that quickly. He stepped back and said:

“Everything always goes your way. That's how it's been all along since childhood. I can't keep spoiling you forever.”

Feeling a little let down, you gazed into his eyes. Caleb's face had brilliant lipstick traces that your fingertips touched.

"Are you sure?" You inquired, and then you hurried to put both of your arms around his neck without waiting for him to respond. You raised your torso and enveloped his waist with your legs. All he could do was hold you, and then you would attack him with powerful, determined kisses.

Caleb laughed while you pulled your lips away long enough to take a breath. He was defeated, again and again. After all, he would always let you win.

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

You finished your makeup that day with a little red lipstick on the lips. Satisfied with the new lipstick and cosmetics Tara had just recommended, you glanced in the mirror. But when you turned to Xavier,you saw him dozing off on the edge of the bed. He was still seated, but his back was resting on a stack of pillows and his hand was gripping the plush bunny named Bunbun.

You intended to wake him up, but as you approached, his innocent face and soft snoring made you want to give him a little playful nudge. You placed yourself on the edge of the bed, as quietly as possible so as not to wake him up. Then you pressed your lips to his cheek, leaving a red lip stain.

Leaning back slightly, you waited for Xavier to stir, but he remained deep sleeping. You impatiently placed a kiss on his other cheek. Then one on the forehead, another on the chin... Just like that, soon light and dark lipstick smears were all over his face.

You gulped back a laugh. He was certain to become uneasy upon awakening. Unexpectedly, you were taken by surprise as well. His eyes were barely open when his fingers snatched your wrists and pushed you against the bed.

"Xavier?" You let out a startled exclamation. You felt his body pressing on yours, immobilizing you. He could easily lock both of your wrists together, forcing them above your head and holding them there with only one hand.

You raised your gaze to Xavier's face which was covered by lipsticks. Gradually, he opened his eyes. He was still drowsy, but he was fully aware of the damage you had just caused to his heavenly face.

“I can't believe you sneaked up on me while I was sleeping.”

You giggled, looking apologetic: “I'm sorry. Because… you look so cute when you sleep!”

Xavier pretended not to hear your apology. He tightened his hold on the area that was holding your wrist, and you let out a quiet cry. His other hand freely explored your face and his fingers paused at your lips.

"Your lip color has changed."

Xavier was always sensitive to even the tiniest changes in you. It gave you the impression that he was concerned about you and valued you. You gave a nod.

“And you brought my face out to test your new lipstick?” Xavier questioned. You became aware that his body was gradually dropping and encroaching onto yours.

"I've already... apologized," Your cheeks heated with his breath.

"That doesn't count." Xavier gave a sulky reply. "There will be an equal cost for you to pay."

"H-Huh?

Xavier leaned down and pressed his cool lips to your cheek, leaving a scorching, tingling trail.

“One here.” Xavier said, then he proceeded to kiss the other cheek. “Another here.”

“X-Xavier…” You made an effort to resist and came very close to escaping him. But your wrists were held even tighter. The other hand Xavier was holding around your neck tensed as well. 

"Be good!" Although his voice was still very gentle, you caught his impatience, almost like a command.

And you lied still, submitting to his authority as he inked your face with his own lip marks. On the forehead, nose, cheeks and chin. He planted a kiss on your face in precisely the same spot and sequence as you had just given him. You started to get a sense that Xavier wasn't actually asleep, and you were naive to fall right into the trap that was set up by his innocent expression.

At the same time, you relished the sensation of being beneath Xavier, his body heat enveloping you, and the sound of his breathing in your ear blended with every kiss.

The last kiss just ended. As you struggled to catch your breath, you said:

“A-Are you done? Can you…Can you let me go now?…”

The truth was, you never want him to let go. Xavier simply glanced at you and felt your emotions. He lifted your chin again so you could look into his eyes, while he gently parted your lips with this thumb.

“Did I say I would let you go?”

Your eyes seemed to be blurred by the heat between you both. You arched your head back a little, longing for his lips to meet yours once more. Xavier smiled triumphantly as his finger lightly slid across your lips, smearing a small amount of your lipstick out.

“You should have known there is a price for waking me up like that.”

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

That evening, while you were getting ready for the date, Rafayel showed up. He took a seat next to you and began fiddling with the makeup items on the table. His long fingers stroke the blush in the box, he waved it in the air, enjoying the color in his hand.

"Look at this. My hands are now the same color as your cheeks.”

You turned to look at Rafayel. He gave you a mischievous smile. With his other hand, he gently lifted your chin.

“Let me help you,” said Rafayel. You obediently sat still so he could apply the pink blush that was already on his hand to your cheeks, although you were certain that they were already pink even before applying makeup.

"Very lovely. The peach hue draws attention to your smile.” Rafayel exclaimed. "Even though you don't need makeup to look beautiful."

You smiled heartily. His lips were always so sweet, giving you more confidence. I had never seen yourself more beautiful than when you were next to him. Even without saying it out loud, the way he looked at you always made you feel like you were the most exquisite painting his eyes had ever laid upon.

“I'm almost done. All that's left is lipstick." You said while taking out a brand new lipstick from your purse. “Tara said this color would go very well with me.”

Rafayel took the lipstick from your hand and looked at its color through the transparent glass cover. Then he gave it back to you. “Go ahead and try it on.” He spoke excitedly, as if he was the one using this lipstick.

You twisted the cap open, applied a layer and pressed your lips together to spread the lipstick evenly. “Mmmh.” Before you could look closely, Rafayel anxiously put his palm on your cheek and drew you in.

“Let me see it...” Rafayel's fingertips playfully caressed across your face and ears while you held your breath. "Red. It truly does fit you perfectly.”

His thumb traced a line down the border of your lower lip, giving you a ticklish feeling. You could not focus because of how near his face was. You gently closed your eyes, then when he was too preoccupied staring at your lips, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

“You?!” Rafayel was startled. He withdrew his hand and touched the place you just kissed. A scarlet set of lips like a blossoming flower revealed itself on Rafayel's porcelain face.

"If you don't let me see my lipstick color in the mirror, I'll borrow your face to try it on." You laughed in response.

“What do you mean by that?”

As soon as he finished speaking, Rafayel was left with another lip mark on his cheek, just below the previous one. His eyebrows frowned slightly. His cheeks and ears were scarlet, he couldn't hide his embarrassment anymore.

“That is excessive.” Rafayel mumbled, yet behind that salty expression was a wry smirk. You applied another layer of lipstick on your lips to replace the first layer that had mostly faded. You commented:

“This lipstick tastes somewhat as sweet as candy.”

Hearing that, Rafayel immediately raised his face. He held your chin tightly in his hand and brought it very close.

“Really? I'd like to give it a shot as well.”

After saying so, he put his lips to yours. Before you could protest, you felt a slight pain in your bottom lip as you opened your eyes wide.

“R-Rafayel!” You gasped when he left your lips. Your lipstick was lightly on his lips as he licked it lightly.

“It does taste like candy!”

His mysterious expression confused you. You covered your mouth with both hands and reprimanded: "You just bit me!"

With a sly smile, Rafayel tipped his head and said, "I was only curious to taste your lipstick. Then, I realized something…”

Suddenly he came close to you again. His hand pulled yours down to reveal your red face and slightly swollen, color-smeared lips. He spoke again:

“You taste sweeter than any candy!”

Unsure of how to react, you observed Rafayel get back up. You followed him because you assumed he was going to head to the restaurant that you two had reserved. Just as you were getting up from the chair, Rafayel abruptly pulled you back and seated you entirely on the dressing table.

"Where are you going?" He asked while burying his face in your shoulder and hair.

“To our date?… We're already late…”

Rafayel's dissatisfaction was evident from his facial expression. He glanced back at you, his finger tracing across your lips as if he was painting a picture himself.

"The plan has changed."

He kissed you once more, and this time, the long kisses were broken up by little, painless bites that made you weak in the knees and found it hard to breathe. You pushed Rafayel back a little so he could slow down while leaning your back against the frigid mirror. However, the more you did so, the more he devoured your red lips.

“We can save that restaurant for another time… For now, let's stay here, okay?”

He said between rapid breaths. You nodded slightly. How could you refuse, when all your luscious lips wanted was him?

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

During Zayne's lunch break, you stayed in his office to make sure he ate enough and on time. It could also be said otherwise; it's him who made sure you're full and rest well before returning to the headquarters.

After lunch, Zayne sat reading a book on the sofa. You thought you would get out your new lipstick and give it a little play since you had nothing better to do. You barely learned the fundamental techniques and were too busy fighting Wanderers to wear makeup frequently. But the other day, Tara had just given you a new lipstick and said that this color would look good on you.

You put on a light layer. Since Zayne's workplace lacked a mirror, you turned to him and inquired, "How do I look?"

Zayne merely gave you a quick glance before turning back to the book.

"Alright."

"Alright?!" You said it again. By that, what did he mean? It was "okay" rather than beautiful? Yet, he couldn't even look at you for more than a second. You were a little hurt. You twisted the lipstick cap again and applied another layer.

"What about this?" You inquired with him once more. However, Zayne quickly responded with a "Mmhhh" to end the conversation. You turned your gaze from him to the book he was holding. It took away all of his attention, which he should be giving to you.

Refusing to give in to such an inanimate object, you turned completely to Zayne, pulled him back and pressed your lips to his cheek.

You released your grip, revealing your trophy — a vivid red lipstick mark — on his icy face. However, he continued to glare at you without saying anything. His hand turned the book to a new page and as if nothing had happened, he ignored you once again.

“You…” You let out a sigh. You knew he had his own concerns, but were angry at the thought that you were not important, not attractive enough for him, unlike a medical book. You gave it another go, kissing him very close to the lips this time.

Zayne breathed heavily. Although the expression on his face remained unchanged, you caught his hands holding the book trembling slightly.

“There is a medical appointment that I must attend in an hour. This kind of abuse on my face is unacceptable."

You felt like you had won when he closed the book and put it back on the table.

“Okay, let me tidy it up for you.” Grinning, you got up to grab the tissue box.  But you were drawn back by a strong force that very moment. Suddenly you found yourself sitting completely on Zayne's lap. His sinewy arms encircled your waist securely.

“If you want to leave marks on me…” You heard Zayne whispering so softly from behind. “You need to be a little more considerate.”

You sat still and let Zayne turn you around, facing him. Your heart was beating very fast. At this rate, before another patient came to see him, he would have to treat you first. You tried to stay calm in front of him and questioned:

“More considerate? Do you recommend any other spot then?” Your hand briefly touched Zayne's cheek before descending gently. You stared intently, lifting his chin. As you cuddled on his lap, little against the toned shoulders he covered beneath his shirt, Zayne shifted both of your legs so they were more comfortably positioned on the sofa.

Your fingertips paused at his neck, verging on his Adam's apple. You caught it moving slightly. “Or this spot?”

Zayne was clearly making every effort to maintain the residual calm on his face. His eyes were staring at you intensely from behind his glasses, as though he was granting you permission to do that.

And you leaned up to place a kiss there.

You heard a cough come from Zayne. He looked at you, extremely miserable. But you put your hand on the lipstick mark on his neck as if admiring another of your trophies. It did not stop there. You still wanted more, wanted to know what he would do if you went a little further...

Your index finger slid from his neck to his chest and stopped just above his heart.

“Doctor Zayne, your heart is racing.”

Your laughter was as crisp as sunshine in the room, increasing the temperature. Zayne took your hand, neatly holding it in his scarred one. He spoke, but you caught his trembling even though he was very discreet:

“Can you... cure me then?”

Your finger gently tapped on his chest. "Of course." You would always like it when Zayne let me be in charge, asking you to take care of him little by little. His hand loosened slightly, allowing you to freely find the buttons of his shirt and undo them.

Then, you put another crimson mark on his bare chest.

[littlegrnghoul]

Ok now do a silly one :P