#plant moisture management

[reasonsforhope]

As relentless rains pounded LA, the city’s “sponge” infrastructure helped gather 8.6 billion gallons of water—enough to sustain over 100,000 households for a year.

Earlier this month, the future fell on Los Angeles. A long band of moisture in the sky, known as an atmospheric river, dumped 9 inches of rain on the city over three days—over half of what the city typically gets in a year. It’s the kind of extreme rainfall that’ll get ever more extreme as the planet warms.

The city’s water managers, though, were ready and waiting. Like other urban areas around the world, in recent years LA has been transforming into a “sponge city,” replacing impermeable surfaces, like concrete, with permeable ones, like dirt and plants. It has also built out “spreading grounds,” where water accumulates and soaks into the earth.

With traditional dams and all that newfangled spongy infrastructure, between February 4 and 7 the metropolis captured 8.6 billion gallons of stormwater, enough to provide water to 106,000 households for a year. For the rainy season in total, LA has accumulated 14.7 billion gallons.

Long reliant on snowmelt and river water piped in from afar, LA is on a quest to produce as much water as it can locally. “There's going to be a lot more rain and a lot less snow, which is going to alter the way we capture snowmelt and the aqueduct water,” says Art Castro, manager of watershed management at the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power. “Dams and spreading grounds are the workhorses of local stormwater capture for either flood protection or water supply.”

Centuries of urban-planning dogma dictates using gutters, sewers, and other infrastructure to funnel rainwater out of a metropolis as quickly as possible to prevent flooding. Given the increasingly catastrophic urban flooding seen around the world, though, that clearly isn’t working anymore, so now planners are finding clever ways to capture stormwater, treating it as an asset instead of a liability. “The problem of urban hydrology is caused by a thousand small cuts,” says Michael Kiparsky, director of the Wheeler Water Institute at UC Berkeley. “No one driveway or roof in and of itself causes massive alteration of the hydrologic cycle. But combine millions of them in one area and it does. Maybe we can solve that problem with a thousand Band-Aids.”

Or in this case, sponges. The trick to making a city more absorbent is to add more gardens and other green spaces that allow water to percolate into underlying aquifers—porous subterranean materials that can hold water—which a city can then draw from in times of need. Engineers are also greening up medians and roadside areas to soak up the water that’d normally rush off streets, into sewers, and eventually out to sea...

To exploit all that free water falling from the sky, the LADWP has carved out big patches of brown in the concrete jungle. Stormwater is piped into these spreading grounds and accumulates in dirt basins. That allows it to slowly soak into the underlying aquifer, which acts as a sort of natural underground tank that can hold 28 billion gallons of water.

During a storm, the city is also gathering water in dams, some of which it diverts into the spreading grounds. “After the storm comes by, and it's a bright sunny day, you’ll still see water being released into a channel and diverted into the spreading grounds,” says Castro. That way, water moves from a reservoir where it’s exposed to sunlight and evaporation, into an aquifer where it’s banked safely underground.

On a smaller scale, LADWP has been experimenting with turning parks into mini spreading grounds, diverting stormwater there to soak into subterranean cisterns or chambers. It’s also deploying green spaces along roadways, which have the additional benefit of mitigating flooding in a neighborhood: The less concrete and the more dirt and plants, the more the built environment can soak up stormwater like the actual environment naturally does.

As an added benefit, deploying more of these green spaces, along with urban gardens, improves the mental health of residents. Plants here also “sweat,” cooling the area and beating back the urban heat island effect—the tendency for concrete to absorb solar energy and slowly release it at night. By reducing summer temperatures, you improve the physical health of residents. “The more trees, the more shade, the less heat island effect,” says Castro. “Sometimes when it’s 90 degrees in the middle of summer, it could get up to 110 underneath a bus stop.”

LA’s far from alone in going spongy. Pittsburgh is also deploying more rain gardens, and where they absolutely must have a hard surface—sidewalks, parking lots, etc.—they’re using special concrete bricks that allow water to seep through. And a growing number of municipalities are scrutinizing properties and charging owners fees if they have excessive impermeable surfaces like pavement, thus incentivizing the switch to permeable surfaces like plots of native plants or urban gardens for producing more food locally.

So the old way of stormwater management isn’t just increasingly dangerous and ineffective as the planet warms and storms get more intense—it stands in the way of a more beautiful, less sweltering, more sustainable urban landscape. LA, of all places, is showing the world there’s a better way.

-via Wired, February 19, 2024

[shomatoriashi]

10/31/24; 06:45pm

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ their favorite positions ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel + bonus

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

sylus swore that he lives to see the way your body arches as you ride him, giving him the perfect view of your backside as you planted both hands on the top of his thighs.

your breathy whines of his name makes a surge of desire course through him, with his cock hardening further for you each time it pierces through your silken walls. as you rode him in this position, sylus allows his large hands to grip at your breasts, causing you to cry out to him as you moved even faster against him.

“fuck…” he leans closer to you, making his broad chest meet with your back as he trails heated kisses across your skin. your movements became even more erratic now, with your needy cunt squeezing his shaft tightly, trying to milk him for all he was worth. the squelching sounds of your lovemaking makes sylus grunt in response, biting down against your bare shoulder while he gripped at your waist.

the powerful onychinus leader ends up bouncing you up and down his cock, purposely speeding up your movements as he meets with your hips with his own upwards thrusts.

“s-sy… i’m so close… i-“

you were suddenly cut off when sylus suddenly grips at your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze when his lips slot against yours in a fervent kiss. purposely speeding up his thrusts while he basks in your choked moans and how the tears kept streaming down your face. sylus continues to move your hips up and down his cock before stilling his hips, burying his cock within your slick heat when his cock grows before pumping the rest of his seed deep within your womb.

you end up tossing your head back at the sensation, turning away from his kiss as you cried out to him-

allowing sylus to relish in the way your moans seemed to echo throughout the room, letting everyone know just who you belonged to.

always known as being a man that valued romance above all else, of course zayne enjoyed making love to you in a more traditional position, with your legs spread wide, all while allowing the man to slot himself between them.

zayne swore that nothing felt as good as you did, relishing in the way your walls perfectly sheathed him. with him being so overwhelmed with pleasure, it takes him a herculean effort to keep himself from climaxing so soon.

and you weren’t faring any better.

your breathing becomes labored when you feel zayne hid his face within the curve of your neck, forcing your legs to open wider for him as he thrusts his cock in and out of your aching sex. his thrusts were filled with a desperation as you felt the way his cock seemed to reach even deeper inside of you with each new thrust.

unable to keep up with him, you could only manage to lay back while weakly looking down at where you and your beloved were connected, seeing zayne lazily pulling out his cock until only his tip was settled at your entrance before pistoning his hips back to you, hiding the entirety of his length within your scorching heat-

allowing your walls to grip him each time he came back to you.

“hah… z-zayne…” you were losing all of your senses now, completely focused on the sheer amount of pleasure he was giving you when he keeps fucking you deeper into the sheets, causing your arousal to drip down onto the bed.

the sudden sensation of moisture surrounding him does not go unnoticed by zayne, causing him to quicken his thrusts as he moved in and out of you at an even faster pace.

“c-can’t hold back much longer… please-“ filled with a need that only you could quench, zayne calls out your name, reaching down below to gently pinch at your clit. red hot pleasure was now consuming you, with your back arched against the bed as you released yourself onto zayne’s cock.

when zayne feels the way your juices coat at his cock was when he finally stills his hips, a choked groan escaping from his parted lips as he reaches his climax. you moan at the sensation of his twitching cock filling your womb with his seed, falling back into bed with a content sigh. unable to hold back, zayne leans down to capture your lips, deepening his kiss as you willingly took in everything he had to offer.

after spending hours devouring the honeyed sweetness settled between your legs, ensuring that you would lose count of the sheer amount of times you had released into his awaiting mouth-

xavier would casually grip at both of your legs before tossing them over his shoulders, putting you in a mating press that allowed his eager cock to reach that much deeper inside of you.

with you practically helpless in this position, you were given little choice but to grip at your ruined sheets, allowing xavier to impale his cock deep inside of you over and over again, creating an almost hedonistic friction that you would never get over.

all words were lost the moment xavier kept meeting your hips with his passionate movements, his once sapphire gaze now eclipsed by complete darkness when he leans over to the side to give your ankles a kiss.

seeing him doing something so sensual makes your cunt grip at his cock even tighter in response, making your lover groan as he pressed your body even deeper into the mattress. the way he seemed to press his cock even further inside of you had you seeing stars as your pleasure seemed to increase by a tenfold.

“o-oh my g-god!” tears were streaming down your face now, yet xavier manages to swallow each and every one of your moans by giving you a searing kiss while moving even faster inside of you.

and when you and xavier managed to reach your mutual completion at the same time, the young hunter swore that nothing else gave him such pride than seeing you falling apart so sweetly for him.

despite the millions of times he had been intimate with you-

rafayel swore that he would never get used to how soft you were compared to him.

the young artist would always bask in your sweet moans as he kissed every inch of your skin, making sure that not a single part of you remained untouched or unmarred by his lips.

only when he was satisfied with completely marking you did he finally make his move, allowing your pliant form to lay back in bed as he gripped at one of your legs while kneeling close to you. he placed one of your legs on top of his shoulder, allowing the tip of his cock to trace at your pussy lips before slowly entering inside of you.

you gasp, with your face planted down against the sheets, taking in rafayel’s every movement while crying out to him. everything just felt heightened now, especially after your lemurian lover had taken his time with you, playing with your body like you were his own personal instrument, drawing out pretty moans from your parted lips each time he sank into you.

worshipping your body, rafayel keeps a steady pace when it came to his lovemaking with you. his eyes were shut and furrowed in concentration, trying to hold back from releasing too soon all while relishing in your soft gasps of his name.

and when rafayel would feel the way your walls would suddenly clench around him, he would slowly move out of you, only keeping his tip against your entrance while you whined and clawed at the sheets.

“r-rafe, d-don’t be so mean to me! i-i was so close-“

your whines were quickly cut off when he thrusts back inside of you, keeping your legs spread for him as he moved even faster against you, biting down on his bottom lip harshly when he felt his own release quickly approaching.

rafayel once had plans to savor this moment, to try and draw out this session of intimacy because the end would be so much sweeter-

yet hearing your whines and breathy moans makes him lose all of his inhibitions, choosing instead to work on chasing both of your highs, not minding to initiate a few more rounds with you even after he climaxed as his plans changed from prolonging your lovemaking to now making sure that you wouldn’t be able to walk.

caleb always believed that the right way to make love to his woman was to forever lay beneath her, allowing his beloved to use him as she pleased-

which was exactly what you were doing at this exact moment.

with caleb laid back in bed, he hides his face against the pillow, allowing you to bounce up and down on his cock while you steadied yourself against his broad chest.

he meets your gaze, saying your name in an almost reverent manner when his hands shakily reach up to frame at your face. he watches as your features continues to twist in pleasure, with your thrusts turning sloppier as you worked on stroking his cock with your slick walls.

after a few minutes spent in this position, you began to whine, your movements getting slower and slower. caleb notices the way you were panting and immediately sits up in bed. he gently caresses at your hair while cooing at you, “baby, what’s wrong?”

you whimper and lean into his touch, “c-caleb, getting… tired… n-need you…”

a surge of heat was felt traveling down to his cock, and he needed no further urging from you. the young pilot suddenly pins you to the bed without breaking apart your connection to him, pressing a hungry kiss against your lips all while swallowing your moans before pounding himself in and out of you.

you cry out to him, wrapping both of your legs around his waist as he quickened his pace, the movements becoming so passionate that the bed began to squeak in response.

running on pure instinct now, you focused on reaching your completion together, with you begging caleb not to stop as he continues to impale your cunt over and over again-

and if any of your neighbors had a keen sense of hearing, they would recognize your moans and the way it was heightened along with caleb’s desperate groans of your name.

end notes: too thirsty to care about editing… lmao but i’ll still make changes either way.

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[the-learning-hub]

Proper Watering Techniques for Rare and Exotic Flowers: A Guide for Gardeners

Proper Watering Techniques for Rare and Exotic Flowers: A Guide for Gardeners

Watering is one of the most important aspects of gardening, and it is especially crucial when it comes to rare and exotic flowers. These delicate beauties require special attention and care to thrive, and proper watering techniques are key to their survival. First and foremost, it is important to understand that different types of flowers have different watering needs. For example, succulents…

[biggaybunny]

The inherent conflict of being alive is that your cells just love water. Great stuff for cells. Excellent for transporting things around in, really helps counteract gravity and make that 3rd dimension fully accessible. You as an organism however, want atmosphere. It's got all those awesome gases, like oxygen. Those gases are great! But they're not very good at getting in the water. Lots more of them outside the water.

Now some organisms went ahead and said "well, our cells want to be in the water, we're made of cells, we're staying in the water". And I respect that! Gotta respect that. Lots of 'em stick to the surface, get a little bit of the good gases, but keep themselves nice and watered up (wet) to keep their cells happy. Some make do with whatever cool gases have managed to dissolve into the water, thanks to a process known as "churning that shit up" that happens on the water's surface. Doesn't work out great for them, but you know, they made their decision and they committed to it. You gotta respect that.

Now some organisms, especially a lot of old ones, were afraid of commitment. They hung out at the water's edge, breathing all the gases and shit, but still needed to make sure they could stay wet. Like, their plan was to leave the water, but stay wet. Not a great move, if you ask me. Usually it works, but only until it doesn't. You ever seen dried up moss? Ask it how it's "stay wet but not in water" plan went. It can't answer you. It fucked up. That's what you get for not committing.

Now trees though, trees had the other idea. Trees and some other plants were like, no problem. I'm gonna take my water with me and never ever let it go. They developed specialized cells and shit. They got whole layers dedicated to keeping the water the fuck in. They got other cells dedicated to hunting down any water in a square fuckometer and taking it for themselves. That's hustle. That's a game plan. Some plants got so good at it they saw these dry-ass stretches of land that saw rain less often than you saw your mother smile as a child and were like "okay but is the amount of water not literally zero? Yeah? We're good."

The moving orgisms tried to copy trees, naturally. Making hard outer layers to trap the water in for their cells. But it was pretty weak. They kept going on about needing holes for the moisture to leave, and wet surfaces for their eyeballs. Then some of us got stupid and decided maybe we only needed like a half-decent layer protecting our water. "Semi-permeable" they marketed it as. Oh it's fine they said. We'll live somewhere wet, they said. Yeah how'd that work out for that moss again.

And now I get a headache if I go like 3 hours without drinking a glass of water. I should've been a pine tree.

[mianexil]

◇ Misunderstanding ◇

◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇

⭕️ Warning: Angst ⭕️

💫 [ I love these boys so much, and I don't want them to worry, but I couldn't get this angst out of my head, I had to write it ]

💫 [ Cuties, I'm sorry I've been away for so long. I needed to rest and regain my mental strength after the recent events in my life. I have managed to do a lot during this time. Although the July rainy season was killing me with the weather, but I'm already fine. My small trips that I have made during this time have allowed me to find inspiration again, so I am with you again ]

◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇

ㅡ Umemiya, Sakura

Umemiya

The white-haired head of Bofurin had just returned home, humming to himself some song he had heard from the radio while working with vegetables on the roof.

Umemiya was impatient with the desire to embrace the love of his life, which warmed his heart like a ray of sunshine. So, after taking off his shoes, he immediately headed to the kitchen, where you were presumably.

However, before entering the kitchen, he froze when he heard a sharp exclamation.

《 Why did you come here again?! 》

"Why did you come here again..?"

Umemiya's hand trembled over the handle of the door, which he had not yet managed to open, and immediately another stream of curses rang out.

《 Why are there so many of you?! I'm suffocating! Can you just leave me alone for a day? 》

Hajime's heart sank into his heels.

“What? Why? Suffocating? ...I..am I boring her..?"

Thoughts instantly flashed through the white-haired man's head, and then there was an overly loud minute of silence in his thought space.

It seemed that his heart was about to stop from realizing all this.

Pain pinched in his chest and moisture had already appeared in his blue eyes, but Umemiya restrained himself.

Deep breath.

Umemiya is the type of person who will go and talk even if he is in pain, even if he knows that he is about to get a dagger in his heart, because you are the love of his life. He is ready to open his heart for that very dagger himself, if it is in your hand.

He needs to hear it directly, listen to you, talk and fully understand the situation, even if it hurts him.

Nevertheless, the hand presses the door handle and the desperate gaze of Umemiya is presented with a picture of how you, with slightly swollen eyes and a clogged nose, express dissatisfaction to a large piece of fluff that you hold between your fingers.

Someone planted poplar fluff on your street and now, with the onset of summer, it clogs the whole street and flies into the windows, preventing you from living peacefully without allergies.

Turning around at the sound of the door opening, you see your boyfriend, who seems to be on the verge. The sight of Umemiya, who now looks more like the most unhappy puppy in the world, makes you go into shock for a few seconds.

Of course, you immediately rush to your lover with dumbfounded eyes and gently wrap your hands around his face.

When asked about what happened, he asks you in a firm voice, as usual, but slightly trembling at the end, who your previous words were intended for.

Having clarified the situation, you immediately find yourself in his strong and silent embrace. The silence is broken only by his soft sob.

This poor boy has just gone through too much in 3 minutes.

For the next hour, you will have to hold Umemiya in your arms, wipe away tears, soothe and assure him that you are not tired of him, that you still love him more than anything in the world and that he will never be "too much" in your life.

Oh, dear, take care of him, because he loves you too much.

Sakura

《 You don't understand, he's constantly nervous and yelling at me all the time. I'm sick of it already! To me..it seems to me that soon I will simply not stand it and leave.. 》

You were so immersed, emotionally complaining to your friend on the phone about the new teacher, that you didn't notice how your boyfriend froze in the doorway and had been listening to your conversation for several seconds.

Turning away from the window, you finally noticed Sakura.

ㅡ Oh, honey

Quickly concluding your dialogue with your friend with the promise that you will call back soon, you went to him.

ㅡ Has something happened?

You pull your hand to his forehead to remove the two-colored hair that fell over his eyes, covering his face, but he silently intercepted your hand.

ㅡ Why...

ㅡ What?..

ㅡ Why are you touching me?

There is anger in his tone, but you both understand that pain and resentment are hidden behind it. You felt the feeling of Sakura still holding, but not squeezing your hand. Even now, he treated you with care.

The voice dropped almost to a whisper, leading you more and more into misunderstanding and making you wary.

《 Do you hate me? 》

At that moment, there was silence in the room. Fright washed over you in an instant.

It seemed like another second and he would have run away, but you managed to grab him by the collar. A firm but careful grip.

《 What are you saying, Sakura? 》

This conversation didn't last long, but it was hard. You were so worried that you made this kitten go through this moment of shock, and it took Sakura at least ten minutes for him to let go of the shock of those experiences.

You spent the rest of the day together. His head rested on your lap, and his hands were still gently but tightly wrapped around your waist while you gently hugged him, stroking his head, restoring him from shock and occasionally scolding him for allowing such a terrible thought that you would treat him so cruelly. Sakura, on the other hand, was silent for a lot, but when he spoke, it was with words of apology and a quiet, but incredibly warm for your heart declaration of love.

His fragile heart is in your hands and you both know it. He gave it to you himself, so take care of it.

◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇

[kitorin]

"you taste fucking disgusting."

gojo satoru gags as he vigorously washes his mouth with listerine, the way he swishes and swashes the liquid is aggressive, and so is his method of disposing it.

"mmm, okay." absentminded, you lean on the door frame, taking a glance or two at your phone as your boyfriend leans over the sink. "i hope you realize that it wasn't meant to taste good— sunscreen. it's not a food, love. it's in the name, since it screens the sun's uv rays. you know? i'd say it's pretty self explanatory."

with a final cough and spit, satoru pants from the mint lingering on his gustatory senses, haunting his taste buds. "how was i supposed to know that?"

"what sunscreen is?"

"no, the fact that you were wearing it."

you barely manage to swallow the giggle attempting to claw out of your throat. "i hope you realize i wear it pretty much everyday when i go out."

he protests. "you should've told me."

"you shouldn't've kissed my cheek that hard then. it makes your skin all shiny and stuff too" you shrug, displaying indifference whilst fighting the urge to burst into laughter right then and there. "now we're late to lunch with shouko and the others."

"fuck lunch i need to get mint outta my mouth."

you respond with another shrug. "it is kinda your fault."

satoru narrows his eyes, petty and childish. "but you were busy calling shouko." you were gushing on a call with her, excited to see each other after so long due to the time consuming nature of college. seated at the front porch and slipping on your shoes, satoru innocently kissed you; opting to plant a long smooch on your cheek to avoid interrupting your conversation—unknowingly consuming some of your sunscreen.

the laugh you'd been holding onto for so long escapes. "dumbass."

"i had to kiss you somehow." your boyfriend pouts, a last minute resort to winning the immature quarrel (which was clearly, in your favour).

"awww, poor you. the after taste must suck." satoru grins victoriously, enjoying the prospect of being the winner of the banter, satisfied with his strategy.

it certainly didn't work.

"boo hoo, next time don't eat my sun screen." you punctuate your reply with a flick to his forehead, one he couldn't predict at all. "must've tasted horrible but that's your problem. was it really that hard to wait for shouko and i to be done?"

he replies as though it was instinctive and without thought, "yeah."

"you need to learn patience, baby."

satoru scoffs. "and you need to learn how not to be mean."

as he glowers as if he were a stubborn five year old, you kiss his pouted lips. "better?" now your phone was reminding you that a very perplexed ieiri shouko was pondering on your whereabouts. "now you've ruined lunch."

he wraps his arms around you. "we'll be fine, just tell shouko we're a bit late."

"but you already ate lunch. sunscreen with a side of my moisturizer. what's next? my face wash?"

"so mean..." he murmurs under his breath, though quick to shut up when you compensate your teasing with another kiss.

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins, @pokkomi, @chigirizzz

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

a/n. i lied, the jjk debut isn't nanami (take a messy gojo drabble in the mean time that i got inspired by an intrusive thought) (also unproofread)

[heresan]

When you're perched so prettily on his lap with your arms loosely coiled around his neck, Wriothesley truly wonders what he's done to deserve this一to deserve you and your love and your affections.

There's an endearing boyish smile on his face as you lay only the softest and sensual kiss after sweet kiss on either side of his cheeks, the small scar just at the prominence in deserving of a little extra attention from you. His thoughts become addled when the warmth of your lips spread from his jawline, neck and the corners of his mouth before the long-awaited blissful exchange after enduring all your teasing.

When you draw back slightly, your boyfriend's face is stained all over by the lipstick you'd been wearing since the morning. But there's a reason behind this gesture of tenderness, a greater purpose that lies with all the women in Fontaine in hopes of developing a long-lasting and transfer-free beauty product, or so that's what you like to tell yourself.

Sigewinne had asked you to test her newly formulated cosmetic and provide her with your honest feedback in her survey, while mentioning that at her recent beauty lecture a few audiences had brought to her attention if there's a possibility of such a product. And so, here you are testing how the lipstick wears after food and drink, with a personal experiment of your own for its kissing-proof capabilities.

"Perfection. Would you believe me if I said you look much more handsome this way?" You're almost admiring your handiwork as you do a once-over, but remember that the product doesn't hold up to its original purpose. The lipstick checks out on moisturizing long-wear while still being relatively low-maintenance, but you'll just simply have to report your findings back to the Head Nurse to improve the final product. "I suppose I'll have to let Sigewinne know that there's a bit of transfer."

"More handsome with all this lipstick smear? It might just be because I have someone so beautiful to kiss me." Wriothesley chuckles, as his thumb wipes the slight smudge overlining your bottom lip that’s already begun to fade after doing a number on him. "Perhaps she only needs a little more practice in making a product that can survive our kissing. But a little lipstick stain isn't going to hurt anyone."

You offer a content hum, agreeing with him as you lean forward to press a peck to his lips that he more than gladly returns with a fervor of his own. Wriothesley brings you closer to him by the waist and his tongue runs along the seams of your lips for entrance, deepening the kiss in a heavenly traverse and you instinctively clasp your hand gently into the back of his hair. The pigment spreads and stains upon his lips once more before what's left connecting you both is a string of saliva, and the sound of soft panting for air fills the silence in the room.

Your cheeks feel warm and your heart impossibly full as your head rests comfortably on his shoulder, your fingers fiddling and twirling with his maroon tie as you revel in this feeling of giddiness. "Thanks for letting me steal you away from your work again. I was afraid you wouldn't have time for me between managing the prison and your scheduled uninterrupted tea breaks."

Wriothesley laughs softly at your teasing and plants a chaste kiss to your temple. "Don't worry about it at all, sweetheart. You shouldn't be surprised that I always have time for you. Besides you're not doing anything but letting me have my fun."

He then peers at the swell of your messy lips, a playful smirk gracing his features with a quiet craving behind his gaze. He only wants to feel more of you, like his hands and mouth can't stop wanting to search for every last part of you. And you can’t really blame him for finishing what you started. "Perhaps I should kiss you again and again until it's all but disappeared, hm?"

[freakingholland]

Lovebirds times two - YJ!Dick Grayson x fem!reader

A/N: Is this another fluffy fic that contributes to the “Dick Grayson looks gorgeous and can have any woman” trope? Maybe! (yes) But we deserve happy Dick alongside happy Spitfire, okay? I’ll write something agst-ish some time I promise!

Warnings: not proofread! fluffy af, a couple of swear words, slightly suggestive dialogue but nothing nsfw. If I missed anything, please let me know!

Summary: Heroes do get to attend weddings every once in a while. It's especially exciting, when it's a dear friends' ceremony.

Word count: 1.4K +

If you enjoyed my work, you could buy me coffee here: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland

questions/requests/ideas here! - rules here

masterlist (needs a proper update)

_

“I love these two with my entire heart but HOLY FUCK— I really don’t feel like getting ready today…” you whined sheepishly as you were in the middle of putting moisturizer over your freshly washed face. You and your significant other were in the middle of your preparations for your dear friends’ wedding. It was Artemis and Wally’s big day.

“Don’t even get me started. I told you we could get somebody to get your makeup and hair done. You can’t complain now.” Dick responded with slight frustration in his voice. It was obvious that he wasn’t actually mad at you, just not necessarily content with the fact that despite being in a committed relationship for so many years you still had trouble with making use of the benefits that came along with dating one of the Wayne’s sons.

“No, no don’t get me wrong babe I would appreciate that, it’s just— I feel a bit lazy today, wish I could just snap my fingers and get ready magically. If you know what I mean.”

“—plus, I don’t trust people with my face and hair, being comfy in my own skin is my top priority for today. I can’t wait to get there and have fun with our fam. I’ve been really looking forward to tonight.”

Dick walked over from the sink where he was previously finishing brushing his raven, still slightly wet and disheveled bangs. He had a towel wrapped tightly around his hips as he had just gotten out of the shower. The entire bathroom smelled like his strongly, yet freshly scented cosmetics. Seeing Richard in his work uniform and in his Nightwing suit is one thing, but seeing your partner clean and well-rested in the comfort of your shared apartment is another thing. Regardless of your lengthy relationship you still felt butterflies circling around in your stomach at this rare sight.

He wrapped his arms tightly around your hips and rested his chin in the crook of your neck, tickling you with his hair.

“Me too hun.” He responded while exhaling deeply against your bare, moist back. His warm embrace prolonged for another couple of seconds. You could easily tell Dick also felt sentimental about being home and being able to enjoy normal life. Whatever normal life means.

“Kay- I’ll let you do your thing now.” Before leaving the bathroom to start dressing up Dick took your face in his calloused hands and planted a quick kiss on your forehead. Dick crinkled his nose.

“God you’re pretty.” He was shaking his head on his way to your bedroom.

With a genuine smile on your face, you continued with the preparations.

*

You did not let slight sluggishness take over your body and you managed to get ready within an hour. Dick didn’t have the opportunity to see your outfit yet, after he had finished getting ready, he slumped on the sofa to watch TV and kill some time as he patiently waited for you to get ready. You walked into your living room and as soon as your partner heard your shoes click on the floor, he quickly turned to examine your look for the festive night.

“Oh wow- love. You look fantastic.” He quickly got up from the sofa to take a closer look. He soaked up the joy that you brought him with just your groomed appearance and a genuine smile, while eyeing you up and down with a huge grin plastered across his unwearied face.

Dick was wearing a black tuxedo paired with a white button up shirt, a black bowtie, and black oxfords. He also sported a watch with a black leather strap.

“You don't look too bad yourself sir…”

“—who am I kidding, GOD I love your hair! It’s so shiny!”

He chuckled at your answer and swept a strand of his thick bangs to the side.

“I think we should speed up this whole wedding thing and actually rent out a venue, you know?” you continued. After you said that your and Dick’s eyes laid on your engagement ring.

Dick sincerely cares about your wishes when it comes to retaining of your personal aesthetic, it took him a couple of visits at different jewelry shops in Gotham to choose a proper engagement ring. Despite knowing you well he still needed someone’s assistance - or rather mental reassurance that he’s making the right choice. That’s why Dick invited Bruce to participate in the important opting. They ended up choosing a white gold band with a small emerald-cut sapphire.

Talk about cheesiness. But the said cheesiness is one of the reasons why your bond was and is so strong. Your lives don’t stray from the hardships and sorrow in spite of the additional, demanding chapter that is your partner’s and your service as a literal heroes. Both Dick and you have your problems and traumas, but the two of you putting in the effort to communicate well, be patient and to keep your spirits up is what works well - as your relationship’s binder.

“And my hair is all that it takes for you to say that?”

“—I’m starting to get worried that we might be together just because you think I’m so fucking sexy.”

“We’re also together because of your humbleness…” Your answer caused Dick to roll his eyes. The grounding remark didn’t stop him from giving you a peck on the lips. As your lips parted, he threw a quick glance at his watch and slowly started going towards your kitchen. He went to grab a set of keys that was lying on the island, as well as a previously prepared bag of necessities such as band aids and emergency trainers.

“Are we ready my beautiful lady?” he offered you his arm in a jokingly chalant manner. You quickly grabbed your clutch bag and a coat.

“Ummm, I think we are now.” After double checking if you have everything that both of you needed to comfortably celebrate among your dearest companions as well as your precious gift, you started walking towards the door of your apartment.

*

Your best friends’ wish was to get married in Gotham City regardless of it being your usual work location. The ceremony was set to take place in a small palace, close to the border of the city. When you had arrived at the scene it was drizzling, the air felt very humid and had a pleasant earthy scent. But said weather didn’t interfere with the charm of such a special evening.

After the lovely wedding ceremony everyone drove to a beautifully decorated restaurant. The tables looked very minimalistic, even so the entire place was filled with beige and light pink flowers – carnations, lilies, roses. Artemis’ effort really paid off because the place looked both elegant and warm. Partially because of a gentle glow that bathed the entire area.

The newlyweds were beaming with happiness. They looked physically relaxed now that the official part of the evening was over. They were making sure to spare some time for every single guest, whether it was to chat with them or to take a picture. Right before one of the hot meals you managed to catch them and take the two to the side, in order to give them their special gift.

Both of them teared up when you and Dick handed them a large oil painting of the pair, which was based on a photo from a trip that the four of you went on a couple of years ago.

“There is no way! You guys! That’s beautiful, I really don’t know what to say…,” said Wally. Artemis was so taken aback that she remained silent while her now husband continued his thanks. Their eyes were glistening with happy tears and that warmed your heart.

*

You twirled with a slight laugh escaping your lips. Dick’s strong arms quickly embraced your figure to keep you closer to his warm body.

“I’m so glad we chose that photo for the painting. They were in awe.”

“I was in awe when I saw you in that outfit. You’re right, I’m getting us a venue tomorrow.”

“And you laughed at me when I complemented your hair!” you playfully smacked Dick’s chest. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your faux mad expression. That was the Y/N that he fell in love with.

He slumped his shoulders to close the distance between you two as you softly swayed to the rhythm of a slower song.

“I’m so glad that I have you angel.” He leaned into your ear and whispered.

“Soon to be Mrs. Grayson. All mine.”

-

If you get the “god you’re pretty" reference I love you.

Stay whelmed xx

Tori

[gurugirl]

Hidden | mcc!harry

Summary: You convince Harry to take you to the Halloween Haunted House downtown. Of course you’ll both be well disguised - hidden in plain site. Thanks to this request!

Warning: 18+ only, smut, public sex, mask kink, voyeur kink (+ this is kidnapper!harry x reader and so this might not be your thing)

Word Count: 4042

Mint Chocolate Chip masterlist

“Look, Harry,” you showed him the flyer stuffed between the loose mail that had come in that day, “Haunted House Halloween: An Erotic Masquerade.”

Harry peered at the glossy pamphlet with a creepy-looking old building and the words at the bottom with contact information. $45 per person at the door. Extras not included.

“Can we go? I really want to go! Halloween has always been my favorite and we’ve never done anything together on Halloween. Please?” You sat the flyer down and slotted yourself between Harry’s legs as he sat on the couch, getting to your knees and rubbing your palms up his thighs, “It would mean so much to me. We’d have masks on so no one would even know it was us.”

Harry gave you an expressionless look. He wasn’t quite sure. He wanted to make you happy but he hated to go out in public. And he was sure there would be a lot of people at the event.

“I don’t know, pup. It’s risky with so many people.”

“Harry,” you softened your eyes and took his ringed hand in yours, bringing his fingertips to your lips, dotting little kisses to them, “I love you. How can I convince you that it’ll be worth it? That no one will ever see us?”

Well, you knew the answer to that. You knew how to get your way when it came to Harry. Pushing your fingers over his crotch, you bit your lip with your eyes on his, and pressed over his cock.

“Puppy…” he warned. He knew what you were doing. And he knew he was going to give in. If you were both in masks what was the harm anyway?

You laid your head on his thigh, looked up at him innocently, and began fumbling with his pants button, “Harry… I’m gonna suck you off now, okay? Make you come really hard and get me all messy.”

With your eyes still on his, Harry cradled the back of your head and licked his lips, “S’this what you think it’s gonna take for me to say yes?”

You nodded, your cheek smushed into his thigh. You were thriving from the eye contact he was giving you with his warm hand at the back of your head, all loving and soft with anticipation.

When you’d opened up his pants you could tell he was already thickened up to your delight. You loved making him hard. Loved that you did that to him. Loved that he picked you out of everyone because you were his special girl.

You shifted yourself and sat up so you could reach into his pants and pull him out. Sticking your hand under the band of his underwear he grunted as he sat back and put his hands behind his head to let you do your thing.

It was a struggle to get him out fully. He wasn’t helping you at all. He kept his bottom planted firmly on the couch, where normally he’d lift up so you could pull at his pants. But this was your way of showing him how much you wanted to go out for Halloween.

But you did manage to pull his dick out. Your fingers came into contact with his girthy shaft and you pushed his underwear down so you could see all of him. As you began to gently slide your hand up and down over his foreskin you looked up at him and could tell he was already gone. Dark eyes, pink lips parted, small puffs of breath falling from his lungs.

You gathered a bit of saliva in your mouth and pressed your lips to his tip, pushing the moisture out with your tongue and over his cock, using your fingers to slip it over his skin and down as far as your hand could go before his pants got in the way. You repeated, getting his cock coated with your saliva, little by little as your hand worked it over his shaft.

“It’s so yummy,” you moaned as you swiped your tongue upward to his frenulum, eyes pinned to his.

You were a fucking pro at this. Harry had taught you exactly what he liked and you were a quick learner. And now you’d perfected the skill of giving head to his preference. So much so, that Harry was already growing angrily hard with your lips and tongue and fingers working him into a frenzy.

When you’d finally put him out of his misery and you wrapped your plush, wet lips around his bulbous head he moaned and closed his eyes. He loved to feel you. Feel your lips and your tongue taking him in. The way you suckled and lapped at him as you forced yourself down until he bumped into your throat always had him trembling.

He gasped when you swallowed around his cock and spluttered over him, almost gagging but not quite. When he looked down at you your eyes were fixed up at him, already tearing up a bit.

“Puppy… my best girl,” he smoothed his hand over the back of your head as you attempted to smile at his sweet gesture, though it was hard with his thick cock lodged deep in your mouth.

So you went down further, sucking in a breath through your nostrils, and lowered down until his tip wasn’t just nudging into your throat but was slid into the back of it and pushing past your tonsils. He groaned and that spurred you on further as you closed your eyes and nuzzled down, your nose hitting his tummy and your chin pushed into his cotton underwear. You wished you could take his balls into your hands but this would have to do as he still had his pants over his thighs and only his cock was out for you.

Once you began to gag over him and the tears in your eyes started to run down your cheeks Harry bucked his hips up and pressed at the back of your head. You put your hands on his thighs to stabilize yourself as you gurgled and squeezed your eyes closed.

“Fuck… c’mere pup,” Harry’s voice was strained as he whined his words.

You popped off of him, gasping for breath as you did so, and quickly climbed into his lap as he asked.

Harry pushed your little dress up to your waist and pulled you down over him, your bare pussy already wet and puffy with need. You never wore panties when Harry was around. That was the rule.

“Want to come, puppy? Want to come with me?” Harry asked as he cupped your face.

You writhed your slick pussy against his deliciously hard cock. He was already throbbing. So close to coming, “Yes. If it’s okay.”

Harry moaned and looked down at where you two were pressed together, “It’s my favorite. Of course it’s okay. Put me inside, puppy. Ride me and make yourself come.”

And what else was there to do but obey? You pressed his tip into your entrance and let out a shaky moan as you slowly encased him and he pushed your insides apart until you had him stuffed into your pussy so deep you were seated over him, wetting his pants.

With Harry’s hands on your ass, he helped you lift up and slip down. With little gushy sounds coming from your pussy as you moved over him.

You both moaned and gasped, “Can I rub it? I want to come…” you panted as you looked down to where you were both connected. You needed to slip your fingers over your clit and you’d be done for in moments.

“Go on, baby. Been such a sweet girl for me.”

You slid your hand between your bodies and circled your clit as you continued to take his cock into you deeply. He was trembling at the way you were squeezing around him.

“Ahh!” You moaned when you felt your pussy flutter and Harry’s dick press into your guts repeatedly.

“Coming, puppy? Yeah? Needed my cock, didn’t you? It’s okay. There you go…” Harry tried to sound put together but he was panting and whining as he spoke his words to you as you came around him.

You gripped him tight and spasmed around him, thighs quivering and eyes wide, “Fuck! I need you, Harry!”

Harry clenched his jaw as his balls tightened against his body until he was pouring himself into you. He pumped his orgasm into your tummy and held you down with his teeth gritted, feeling that euphoric relief that only you could ever provide him.

.           .           .

You ordered your masks online. Harry’s was a skeleton mask and yours was a jeweled black cat mask. Harry was iffy about yours because it didn’t cover your lips and chin but once you tried it on for him he nodded, “Okay. That should do.”

He wore a full black suit with a black tie and you wore a long-sleeved black bodysuit with black high heels. It was actually quite sexy. And you thought Harry looked sexy too.

The haunted house was downtown. It was at an old historical home that was preserved among the modern buildings and skyscrapers. It was often used for events, dinners, parties… This time it was decked out for a Halloween masquerade. The night sky above with the old-fashioned lights hanging from the front façade and creepy spider webs at the entry made it feel so real.

There was a group waiting at the front, as people entered one by one.

When you and Harry finally got to the door your payment was taken and black plastic bracelets put on your wrists. The interior was breathtaking. Tall ceilings, crystal chandelier, a big open space for people to dance a section with a bar and tables, and seating along the wall at the back.

“This is incredible!” You held onto Harry’s hand (or better yet, he wasn’t letting go of yours) as you looked all around. The decorations were scary but tasteful somehow. Everyone was wearing a mask. The music was instrumental and slow but had a touch of something spooky as it was on a minor scale.

You both stood at the bar to order drinks. Harry decided against drinking anything. He was still on edge and wanted to keep an eye out in case of anything that should happen. Even the bartender you ordered from was wearing a mask. She was Medusa and her entire outfit was sleek but she wore a wild wig of snakes.

Harry continued to keep your hand in his as you walked around the room to check everything out. Your drink was tangy and refreshing. The further you got into the space you noticed there were smaller areas behind doorways with activities. A Ouija board room, a room with a witch's cauldron and various ingredients set on a table to add, a dark room that, once you stepped in you realized was almost as large as the main room. Couches and settees lined the walls, rugs on the floor, dim lighting at the edge, and people making out in the dark shadows, “This place has everything, Harry!” You laughed quietly as you pulled him along to the various areas.

Harry wasn’t hating it. He went because he knew you wanted to and because he tried to do anything he could to make you happy. But he was feeling more and more confident about the whole thing the longer you were there. The setup was impressive. The space was packed with people and you both were well disguised.

And also, he thought you looked absolutely gorgeous in your outfit. A tight bodysuit hugged your curves and your lips were painted a deep red. He’d consider talking you into going to the dark room for a bit of fooling around if the moment was right. He now understood the ‘erotic’ part of the masquerade. This felt almost like a big sex party. Though no one appeared to be having sex in the open, things were definitely lustfully charged.

When you’d finished your drink you turned to look at Harry, “Let’s dance a little.”

Harry shook his head, “Nahh. I don’t want to.”

He could see the pout on your lips as you protested, “I don’t want to dance by myself, Harry,” you pushed your fingers in between his and pulled at him.

“Well, I wouldn’t let you go out there to dance alone anyway. You’re not to leave my side.”

“But that’s not fair. Look,” you pointed toward the large space where masked adults were griding and slow dancing with dim lights flashing, “Just a little. Come on. Please?”

Harry sighed and looked toward the darkest corners of the dance area. There were people there, swaying and moving in synch. He could handle a bit of dancing. If it was to make you happy he’d do it.

“Fine.”

You squealed as you pulled at his hand and moved into the dancing bodies, but Harry kept pulling at you until you were outside of the area where the dim lights couldn’t find you.

Harry put his big hands on your hips and immediately you both began to swing softly. You put your arms over his shoulders and he nudged you in closer, “You look really pretty like this puppy.”

His voice was deep and you grinned at his compliment.

A couple that was dancing a few feet away had their masks moved off of their faces and were kissing as they danced together. You bit your lip and looked back up at Harry’s skeleton mask.

“What is it?” You could hear the smirk on his mouth. You wished you could see it.

“Just feels like a place where we could get away with a lot of stuff,” you swayed your hips and Harry nodded in response to you.

It did seem like that kind of place. It was dark inside. Lots of rooms, alcohol, hidden corners…

Harry dipped down to speak into your ear, “Turn around,” he pushed your hips and you turned in his arms so you were facing away. Suddenly he pulled you into him, your back into his chest and you both continued to slowly move to the rhythm.

When you felt his hands smooth up your ribs and over your tits you gasped and turned your head as he spoke into your ear, “What kind of things do you think we could get away with?”

You raised your arms and put your hands behind his neck, “I don’t know. This is a good example,” you pressed your bum into his crotch teasingly. But when you tried to move your hips away Harry brought a hand down from your breast to hold you in place, keeping his hips glued to your bottom.

“Now you’ve gone and done it, puppy.” He whispered into your ear. He kept one of his hands on your breast, kneading and squeezing as he ground his hips into your ass. You could feel him getting hard behind you and a small moan fell from your throat involuntarily.

You rubbed yourself over him harder and heard a groan from him, “Better behave.”

But you didn’t want to behave. You were feeling the sensuality of the dancefloor and everyone around you. The masks hid everyone’s identities and if their masks weren’t on their faces, their lips were connected, hiding behind skin pressed together and dark shadows.

“I want to be naughty,” you nearly purred as Harry pushed himself into your bottom and he moaned into your ear. You whispered, “I want to be bad.”

Harry couldn’t get close enough to you. He didn’t know what had gotten into himself but perhaps it was the way everyone around you two were practically dry-humping and getting themselves off while still clothed. He was sure he heard a man grunt and whine as the girl in front of him, pressed into him, coaxed him through softly with dirty words. Of course, who knew? Harry couldn’t be sure it was the sound of someone orgasming in their pants because he couldn’t see them clearly.

He felt your fingers over his as you pushed his hand down between your legs. You were warm and you inhaled a sharp breath when you pushed his digits over your fabric-covered clit. You guided his fingers over yourself as you leaned your head back into his shoulder.

Harry nudged himself into you, gently rocking his thickened prick into the fabric of his pants and into your soft bum.

You were both panting and grinding together in the dark next to other couples who were doing the same. It was like an illicit sex corner in a haunted mansion where no one knew for sure what anyone else was doing.

Soon he felt that your warm center was growing wet under the pads of his fingers. He could tell your body was growing limp against him as he kept one arm steady around your middle to hold you up, “Hold on, puppy. You’re almost there aren’t you? Filthy girl getting herself off on my fingers right in front of everyone here. Making a mess of my hand already,” his husky voice gave away that he was painfully turned on himself. He couldn’t hide it anyway, his cock was throbbing and his skin was rubbing into his underwear as he rocked himself harder into your plush bottom, the perfect amount of friction for his foreskin to move over his tip repeatedly. As good as it felt, he didn’t want to come in his trousers. He had another plan, now that he was beyond the point of no return.

You cried out as Harry hushed you. You could feel him solid, leaking between your cheeks as you came on his hand. Your legs buckled and you rocked yourself into his hand and grasped his arms. You couldn’t help yourself. You never could with Harry. He just did something to you. It had been that way since the beginning. It was as if your body reacted to him without you even needing to do anything.

You’d made a mess between your legs, which you felt when Harry finally moved his fingers from you and softly ushered you back to him, “Good girl. Needed to come didn’t you, puppy? It’s okay. You know I always give you what you want. Just like you always give me what I want.”

You opened your eyes and saw a couple staring at you. They were facing one another, griding to the music. Her lips were dropped open and she was moaning. Her mask barely covered her face so you could see her eyes on yours. The man, however, you couldn’t see, but his mask was aimed at you and Harry. They both seemed to be watching what had just happened. It was dark and perhaps they hadn’t seen everything but you had been loud.

Harry began to pull at you. You were too far gone to protest or to be embarrassed at what that couple might have just seen. Soon you were in the dark room with the plush couches and low lighting at the edges. Harry dragged you with him to the corner of a couch and made you climb onto his lap. You could hardly see his mask in the darkness but you could hear the moans and gasps of others all around.

Harry lifted his mask and pushed yours off your face and his mouth was on yours so fast you nearly fell backward off his lap. You could feel him fooling with his buckle and you leaned away, “What are you doing?”

“I need to come puppy and I’m about to burst. Need you to pump me in your hand and then put me in your mouth so I can come and we don’t make a big mess. Understood? I don’t think anyone in here will see us. It’s too dark. Besides, look,” he gestured toward the couple at the opposite side of the couch. You could hardly make out their bodies but you could see them moving rhythmically and you could hear what sounded like sex, skin sliding and gently thwacking together.

“Oh my god…” you whispered as you looked back toward Harry.

“Pup, I really need it. I’m in pain. Your wet pussy is all over my hand and it’s driving me crazy. If you take me in your mouth it’s the only way to keep me from coming in my pants.”

You would do anything he wanted. There was no way you’d say no. He had made you come moments earlier so it was the least you could do, “I could ride you. You can come inside of me. Might be even easier.”

“But your bodysuit–“

You interrupted, “Has a button to open it at the crotch for practical purposes,” you laughed. But it was truly meant for practical purposes. It’s why you selected the bodysuit. An opening so you could use the bathroom without having to take the full bodysuit off.

“Fuck baby, you don’t mind doing that?” Harry's vision was fuzzy he was so turned on. Normally he’d never go for something like that but the atmosphere of the place, and you were getting to him.

You straddled him properly, “Pull yourself out and I’ll get this open,” you whispered as you plucked at your button and unfolded the fabric from your wet crotch.

Harry was already out and stroking himself by the time you’d finally pulled the material off your crotch. He was so hard it almost hurt as he pulled you down on himself with a guttural moan. But you were so slick you had him coated and were gripping around him in no time.

Harry set his feet flat onto the floor and fucked himself up into you slowly. Each thrust had you bouncing slightly, and squishing down over him each time you fell. You both panted until Harry captured your mouth, his tongue finding yours right away. His mouth caught your moans as he slid himself into you deeply. Your head was spinning. You couldn’t believe you were having full-on sex in public with another couple likely doing the same thing as you just feet away.

The music and the noise from the others in the room covered the sounds that were coming from your own body. Your wet hole slopped over Harry’s wide cock and you were sure that despite him not wanting to make a mess, his pants were already wet and coated in your cream.

When Harry’s cock began to thrum inside of you and his groans into your mouth grew louder and more desperate he began to plunge into you faster. You held onto his shoulders tight and he shook as his thighs worked himself into your pussy eagerly. You knew he was about to come.

“Give me your come. I need it, Harry,” you whispered against his lips as a man not far from you let out a cough of ecstasy. It would be hard to deny that whoever that was had been coming at that very moment. The other man he was with moaning pathetically.

“Fuck, puppy…” Harry groaned against your lips as he held you down over his cock tight, “Coming… fuck ‘m coming… milking my cock like you need it…”

Harry leaned his head back and his mask slid down over his face as he released into you, small moans falling from his mouth. You loved making him come. Loved how it made you feel that he got so weak with you.

When Harry’s cock was properly drained he lifted his head back up and looked at you from behind his skeleton mask, “This is the best Halloween party I’ve ever been to.”

You laughed as you nuzzled against Harry, wrapping your arms around his neck, his cock still deep inside of you, “It really is. Want to go dance again?”

Harry chuckled lowly, “If we dance again we might just find ourselves back in this room fucking in this very spot. Or maybe I’ll have you bent over the couch arm next time…”

You grinned and leaned back to look at him, “Sounds perfect.”

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[miasmaghoul]

Dessert First

Kinktober '24: Day 1 - Foreplay

Pairing: Swiss/Cumulus

Rating: E

W/C: ~1.8k

Contains: flirting, intentionally cheesy and mostly food-based banter, making out, groping, heavy petting, fingering without penetration, (Cumulus has a big clit pass it on)

Huge shoutout to @kroas-adtam for this year's prompts!

“You're so fuckin’ pretty.”

Cumulus blinks, leans back to look out the hotel bathroom door with a raised eyebrow. Swiss grins at her, offers a wink and a little finger wave. He's laid out on his side on the bed closest to her, head propped up on one hand, the picture of relaxation in a pair of worn flannel pants and nothing else. Cumulus looks at her reflection in the wall-sized mirror; she's fresh from a too-hot shower, face still flushed and curls pulled up into the messiest approximation of a bun she could manage. Dressed in an old pair of Aether's boxers and an oversized tee, toothbrush still in her mouth, she can't imagine pretty is the word for her right now. She gives him a soft snort as toothpaste dribbles down her chin, but Swiss doesn't seem put out in the least. 

“I mean it,” he assures as she spits into the sink, rinsing with a handful of water. She hears the mattress creak, the dull thud of footsteps on low-pile carpet, and as she straightens up strong arms loop around her waist. “You're gorgeous, Lu.” Swiss plants a kiss on top of her head before resting his chin there, smiles at their reflection, and it's so infectious that Cumulus finds herself smirking too.

Read the rest below, or on AO3!

“Sweet talker,” she accuses, and Swiss doesn't even try to deny it. She sighs, letting her head rest against his broad chest. Breathes in the fading aroma of his spicy cologne and the lingering remnants of the joint they'd shared before her shower. A moment of quiet peace, interrupted only by the distant hum of the air conditioner. 

A moment is all she gets, of course - this is Swiss, after all. It's no surprise that his hands go from holding to fondling, a broad palm pressing into the softness of her belly and skilled fingers teasing the curve of her hip. Cumulus gives the back of one hand a gentle smack, rolls her eyes as she goes back to brushing her teeth. 

Swiss, never one to be dissuaded, occupies himself with the self-imposed task of feeling up every inch of her he can reach. Her stomach and hips, her thick thighs and unbound breasts. They may sag without a bra, but she's yet to have any complaints. Least of all from the ghoul at her back, whose half-chub is currently pressed up against the cleft of her ass while he cups her tits through her shirt. 

“So warm,” he muses, stubble grazing her throat when he leans down to kiss behind her ear. “Startin’ to think I should've joined you after all.” Cumulus rinses one more time, shaking off her toothbrush and tucking it into its case as Swiss casually rolls her stiffening nipples between his fingers. 

“It's not my fault you couldn't take the heat,” the ghoulette smirks, reaching for her nightly facial moisturizer. “You know it's boiling or nothing.”

Cumulus gasps as she squeezes some cream onto her palm, a response to Swiss dragging the tip of his tongue down her throat. He follows it with a nip to the spot where it meets her shoulder, and Cumulus shivers as she applies her lotion. 

“‘Scuse me for not wanting to turn to soup.” Swiss tucks a finger into the collar of her tee, tugging it to the side to trail kisses down to her shoulder and back again. He presses his nose to her skin, taking a deep inhale. “You smell like…what is that, cupcakes?”

“Vanilla, coconut and shea butter,” Cumulus corrects, but Swiss isn't exactly wrong. She knows she smells good enough to eat - insists on it always - and judging by the way Swiss throbs when he sniffs at her, he agrees. The ghoulette snorts. “Y’know," she teases, wiggling her ass just because she can, "you're awfully hard for a guy who said he'd be asleep before I even got soaped up.”

Swiss grunts, gives her nipples a pair of firm plucks that make Cumulus gasp. 

“Can you blame me when you look like this?” 

One hand remains on her breast, but the other moves to rub slow circles into her belly. It drags her shirt up, exposes pale skin decorated with the prettiest stretch marks. His fingers slip under the fabric to trace a pair of them, ticklish, soft flesh twitching under his touch. Cumulus bites the inside of her cheek to hold in the sound that tries to escape her, resting back against his chest with a soft sigh. 

“I bet you say that to all the ghouls.”

Swiss smiles at her in the mirror, cheeks dimpled

“You callin’ me easy?” 

She flashes him a grin, tongue poking between gapped teeth, and a quick burst of want flows through her pelvis.

“No, I'm calling you a slut!”

Swiss gives her the most offended look, but it's betrayed by the sparkle of mischief in his eyes. It's a shimmer the ghoulette is all too familiar with, and with a giggle Cumulus reaches up to poke him in the cheek. 

“C'mon, playboy,” she coos, “it's past our bedtime.”

The ghoulette squeals when, with unnatural speed, Swiss’ groping hands move to spin her around at the waist and hoist her up onto the vanity. He spreads her thighs and crowds in close, Cumulus’ tired eyes going wide as toiletries fall over all around her. Swiss plants his palms on the countertop, leans in until they're nose to nose, and when he licks his lips it's the ghoulette's turn to throb. 

“What about my midnight snack?” 

Rough fingertips find her leg, drag over the exposed skin of her knee and along her plush inner thigh. Swiss’ eyes never leave hers as he slides them upward, digits disappearing into the leg of her boxers. 

“Don't want me to go to bed hungry, do you?” He leans in closer, until she can smell the weed on his breath. “Cupcake?”

Swiss winks, clicks his tongue, and Cumulus’ eyes flutter when his probing touch finally reaches her most tender of places. A single finger teases her folds, Swiss’ cock visibly flexing in his pajama pants when he finds the beginnings of slickness there. The ghoulette lets her shoulders sag, reaching up to get small, soft hands on his chest. 

“Cupcake, huh?” 

Cumulus’ mouth curls up at one corner as her fingers glide through his chest hair. Manicured nails scratch over muscled shoulders until she can cross her arms around Swiss’ neck, and the ghoulette's lips part when he circles her clit with the tip of that slippery digit. They're so close now, Swiss’ mustache tickling her upper lip with every passing breath. His other hand moves to caress her cheek, knuckles tracing the soft line of her jaw, and Cumulus licks at one when it follows the curve of her lower lip. She lets her legs fall further apart, gives Swiss space to slip a second exploratory finger between long lips, and the pair of them groan when her clit twitches.

“Well, you have been a good boy tonight,” she lilts, low, and a dark spot blooms near Swiss’ waistband. “I suppose you deserve a treat.” 

The ghoulette closes the gap between them, and Swiss has his tongue in her mouth before their lips even meet. Not that she minds, of course - it's easier to suck on that way. 

She loves when Swiss gets like this; it's slow and decadent, messy in the best way. Cumulus hooks a leg around his hip and the ghoul groans into her mouth, oh-so-gently pinching her clit. She shivers with every touch, dragging her nails across his shoulders until she can get both hands in Swiss' hair.  

All the while, Swiss’ probing fingers grow slicker and slicker. He doesn't slip them inside, not yet - just takes his time petting from her clit to her pucker and back again until every part of her swollen sex slips through his fingers with no resistance. Only then does he break the kiss, still holding her face, a string of saliva stretching between their reddened lips. 

“You're so wet,” Swiss rasps, as though she can't hear the evidence of that herself. Can't feel the dampness soaking into her boxers, no doubt leaving a sticky spot on the stone counter below. Cumulus huffs, leans in to give his lip a tug with blunt teeth. 

“Of course,” she trills. “The best part of a cupcake is always the frosting.”

She's sure that the way Swiss drools and humps the edge of the counter is involuntary, but it still makes her stomach swoop. 

“Oh yeah,” he agrees, voice gone thick. “Can never have enough, myself.”

The very tip of one digit teases her entrance, and Cumulus lets out a soft oh. 

“Sometimes I just eat it with my fingers.”

The ghoulette sighs when Swiss pulls his hand away entirely, dragging the backs of his fingers along her thigh and leaving a shiny trail behind. He holds them up to the light, stretches her slick between them, and Swiss’ eyes roll back when he licks them clean. 

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he moans, unabashed, and if Cumulus wasn't wet before, well…

“Plenty more where that came from, sugar,” the ghoulette breathes, buzzing all over. “You shouldn't let it go to waste.” 

Swiss doesn't need to be told twice. In no time he's gotten her out of those boxers and dragged her ass to the edge of the counter, kneeling before her with those glorious thighs hugging his ears. The ghoul looks up at her with dark, hungry eyes, and her fat clit pulses.

“Go on, baby,” she murmurs, sinking her fingers back into his tight curls. Cumulus’ other hand wanders up her shirt, finds a taut nipple to play with as Swiss reaches around her legs to spread her open with both thumbs. “Do a good job and maybe I'll let you turn me into a Twinkie instead.” 

She winks, Swiss’ entire body spasms, and with a deep, deep groan he sinks his teeth into the meat of her thigh. Sucks in a mark that she can already tell will be the loveliest shade of purple come morning. He laves at the dents his teeth leave behind, staring only at the place she's gone all pink and puffy. Her clit stands at attention, so stiff the hood has slid back nearly all the way.

“If you do,” Swiss rumbles, kissing up to the crease of her hip, gaze heavy, “then I can lick out the cream filling.” 

The ghoul’s golden eyes flash, and Cumulus throbs hard when his unglamoured tongue rolls from his mouth. He drags it through the damp curls surrounding her twitching length - so big and excited now that Swiss could probably suck it like a cock if she asked him to - and when the forked tip of that devilish tongue grazes the base it throbs so hard her thighs shake. Cumulus sags back against the mirror, crosses her ankles behind Swiss’ back, and gives him her darkest eyes and sweetest smile. 

“Only if you promise to feed it to me after.”

[anadiasmount]

moment of your life - jude bellingham.

quick sum: a girls night out. birthday. dinner. club. seeing jude unexpectedly after you over heard him say things that left you hurt and confused… but hey, maybe this could be the moment of your life…

WC: 6k

PSA 🗣️ inspired by song ‘moment of your life’ by brent faiyez ft. coco jones 🤭. the lyrics will be in italics and bolded! no warnings, just angsty at the start, jealous jude, but ends with a happy ending! insta au at end as well❣

You laughed loudly in disbelief as you saw your girlfriends walk through the door. You lazily got up from your bed into a seating position and smiled big when they appeared holding flowers, balloons, and a pink heart-shaped cake for your birthday. They sang Happy Birthday loudly, recording your reaction as they went and circled around your bed. You weren't expecting them, so your shocked reaction to them made them chuckle. 

You brushed your hair back and put your glasses on top of your head, from the studying you were doing for your communications class. “Make a wish, darling!” your best friend said, sitting next to you while holding the cake. There were many things you wished for but being here with them just made you feel so grateful and loved after the last couple of weeks. You closed your eyes in delight and blew the candles. 

Clapping your hands and thanking them, but that’s when you notice them being fully dressed up, short dresses or mini skirts, and or tight tops. “Uh-”

“We're going out to celebrate. So get up, take a shower, and we’ll do your hair and makeup. We bought you this midi dress, and you’ll wear it.”

There was no making remarks or opinions when your friend Ella spoke, she had a clear message and you had to hear it. But you just weren't up for going out, you’d rather just do something here with them since it was unexpected. Open that bottle of tequila and vodka, and drink your sorrows away till the next day. “Guys, I love you more than anything, but I really don’t want to… We can do something here-”

“No no no. We have reservations in two hours at this fancy restaurant downtown, so we can’t stay,” Ella spoke again, going over and grabbing your hand to pull you out of bed. She struggled since your feet were planted on the ground, only dragging and moving along when she tugged you towards the bathroom. “Shower. Go.” You huffed but did what she said, managing to quickly shave your legs and wash your hair. 

You moisturized your body with some lotion and did skincare to let the products sit before they did your makeup. Ella knocked on the door and passed you the black dress, it looked short, and it was slightly shorter than what you were used to, but it hugged and shaped your curves well, your legs looked tan and toned, your boobs perky and sat nicely. You went and also picked out the black stiletto heels, knowing the would define your legs even more, stepping out with them in your hand. 

Your friends gassed you up, complementing you, a warm blush spreading your cheeks. But, they still rushed you to sit down so they could get to work. You begged them for a natural look, not wanting anything that would sweat off if you guys decided to go clubbing, surprise surprise they listened. You did agree to some small dramatic lashes, which shaped your eyes with the brown eyeshadow. 

While they did that Ella, quickly blow-dried your hair, and gave you a small blowout, nothing too crazy but what went with you. Your friends attempted to re-act the scene from Princess Diaries which made everyone wheeze as you headed downstairs. Your jaw dropped and smiled widely as you saw the small decorations in the kitchen, along with the pink cake from before. 

“You guys! This is so cute!” you yelled out, going to hug each and everyone, seriously enjoying the princess treatment. “You deserve it all, darling! Hurry let's pre-game, and take some pics before we head out,” one of your friends said, all of them quickly agreeing. 

The ride to the restaurant went fully smooth, now currently seated in one of the prettiest restaurants you've been to. “Ella, listen I love you, but I'm not wearing that damn tiara…” you shut her down for the millionth time, making her roll her eyes. She sounded like your mom with her protest saying it was just for pictures, but all you had in mind was to eat. 

“Oh fuck…” you looked up from your menu and glanced around confused. But then you saw who exactly made your friend curse out loud. You hid behind the menu again, attempting to look discrete. But you felt the cold rush through your veins, the feeling of your stomach dropping at the sight of the familiar curls, and white smile. All you could do was nod when your friend asked if you were okay, and pretend like you were fine, but deep down, the last thing you wished for was to make sure he didn't see you at all. 

He was through your eye range, and you didn't hesitate to move when your friend offered to switch spots, your back facing him as you walked to the seat. Call you dramatic but you didn't care, you deserved to be happy on your birthday and that was the plan. It was quickly forgotten by them when the drinks arrived, you tried to distract yourself but your mind went back to him. 

Jude had been someone you were helping out to learn Spanish once he first moved to Madrid. Of course, who could deny his gentleman status, his attractive features in those times the two of you were together? Him acting cocky at times, the brush of hands when you passed him the papers, and the strong eye contact when you explained the attributes of the language. You felt a mass of butterflies around him, and it seemed like he did too when he confessed he felt the same way. 

You shared your first kiss, the rain tapping slightly against the window, the scented candles lighting the room when the light went out, the way he would quickly stare at your lips then back up at your eyes, had you clenching your legs shut. And when your lips finally brushed against his, there was no turning back, the passion, the small grunts and moans from the both of you, the way he tugged on your hair making you go crazy. The tight grip on your waist as your tongues fought for dominance. 

 After that, the two of you got closer than ever. The regular routine of coming over to help him with his Spanish lessons quickly turned into dates in your apartment. Making dinner, teaching him, then cuddling while watching movies. He never pushed for more, respecting any boundaries, which made you feel assured it was real. It felt right. You felt safe and sound, forgetting how cruel the world was to you when you were with him. Only him. He became someone that anytime you saw, you knew you didn't have to worry about anything. It was just the two of you. 

But that changed after a party, a party he insisted you go to since he claimed he wouldn't know how to communicate with anyone. After you stepped away to get a drink, you regretted coming. Those few minutes of agony turned to hours as you felt stupid and used, quickly leaving and didn't bother looking back. 

That was a month ago, and now you're here, looking at the waiter confused when a blue drink was brought to your table, to you specifically. “Who is this from?” you couldn't help but ask, maybe wondering if it was from Jude… “It was sent from him,” you followed where he had pointed, and met with a tall, brunette, European dressed man. You raised the drink, as in a thank you, to which he smirked. 

“Seems like you got his attention… You planning to say hi?” your friend teased, to which you gave her a playful glare. “Who knows,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your wine instead of the blue drink, “Maybe it could be the moment of my life.”

The food was amazing, and your tastebuds fell in love with the flavor of the dish you chose. You all laughed and reminisced on the good times together, especially those when you were dorming with each other, and that trip to Germany where you had lost your bags. “No guys I can’t. It feels like I’ve done an ab workout after all this laughing,” you said, grabbing your stomach. “No, but like I said, I don’t remember that night at all-”

You covered your face when you heard them starting to sing Happy Birthday, hating the attention from the whole restaurant on you. It was slightly embarrassing, and they did this knowing it would be a good laugh, which you didn't mind since you had done it to one of them before. All you could do was shift around in your seat, looking around the table before blowing the candles out again the second time. 

“I had the goal! I had it!-” Jude was quickly cut off by the cheering, glancing over to the table in the corner, his breath hitched, seeing the familiar smile as they turned their head to what their friend was saying, watching as you threw your head back laughing contently. It looked like you were happy, over the moon. You were all he frequently thought of these days, he needed and wanted to know what you were doing, how you were, wishing to ask what the hell went wrong between the two of you. He was going crazy not knowing, especially since all you did was leave him on read. No matter where he was, his only thought was you. 

“Y/n is here,” was all that Jude said, shifting to look straight at you, but it was quite difficult. “Jude, you’re speaking nonsense, c’mon back to what you were saying,” his teammate said, one he grew super close with once he arrived. Jude clenched his jaw, fist knocking and tapping on the table as he turned back to you, but now watching as a man was whispering into your ear, you were smiling and nodding. 

He felt the burn rising in his chest, not liking the way you looked content next to a man that wasn't him, whispering back into his ear and watching as he went back to his table. Jude’s shoulders tensed under his shirt, a vein popping from his forehead. His tongue pointed on the inside of his cheek. What was so fucking funny that had you laughing like that? That man shouldn’t haven't even been there, it should’ve been him there. 

Jude knew it was your birthday today, and he wondered if you had received the roses he sent along with a letter. He was tempted to go over there and try to make amends but it wasn’t the time or place for that. So for the rest of his dinner, he just stared at you, gawking at how you looked. The dress causing dirty images in his head, urging him to go over and run his hand down your spine to your ass, make you yours as he desired. 

“I need a drink,” he sighed, rubbing his fingers over the lines on his forehead. Hi teammate laughing at his distressed look, teasing him for thinking about it too much and letting it get to his head. “If you're that bothered, why don’t you go over and talk to her? Maybe she’s willing to explain?” he said, but Jude shook his head. “I don’t think she wants to see me. She's made it clear by not texting me back or answering my calls. She won't even approve for our next Spanish lesson!” 

While you hadn’t, Jude had known of you prior to meeting you. Hearing how you were a special friend to those around him. You had a bright smile, warm eyes, and a caring personality, yet were so shy and innocent, and always willing to help him no matter what. You were too good for him, but he was whipped, wanting to know anything and everything about you. Jude brought himself to ask you to be his Spanish teacher in a way, after approving his transfer in early March, when those moving rumors began to surface in the media. 

When he finally asked you, it looked like you were taken at back, he quickly fell mesmerized with you, the way your eyes glimmered, your rosy cheeks, the way you couldn't hold proper hold eye contact with him, being intimidated by his gaze. What he absolutely adored was the way you fit in his embrace, you were smaller than him, and he was scared those times when you hugged he would hold you tight but that wasn't the case. He would never miss a session, bringing something to you every time from it being your favorite snacks to even your favorite roses. 

When you’d meet in public, it was a private cafe or somewhere secluded so he wouldn't get recognized. But even then, it was always so hard to focus on teaching a language, when all you did was talk about each other's lives. Having grown up as a quiet person, living most of your life privately, meeting Jude probably was the best thing that ever happened to you. You were used to everyone leaving you or being treated like nothing but him? You were his absolute world. 

It took time to get out of that shell you created. You were scared of being used or one of the so-called flings. you never let him in, slowly but surely you began to dig deeper into his heart. You fell, but he fell harder for you. He made you feel comfortable in your setting, never pushed you for me, he was respectful and brutally honest, which you admired. 

“Are we ready to go?” you asked after paying. They argued over who would pay what but in the end it was decided to split the check between everyone. You slid from the table, walking where he wouldn't see you if he was paying attention. You made sure your dress wasn't high, and fixed your jewelry, walking slowly out the door but you were suddenly stopped by that man again.

“Leaving so soon?”

“Yes. Thank you for the drink once again, but like I said I'm not interested in anything right now if that makes sense. I'm just focusing on myself and getting started with my career,“ you apologize feeling like owed him an explanation, but you didn’t. He just gave off bad vibes, and you didn't like his aura and cocky self. “Not even your number? If time is what you need I’ll be more than welcome to wait.”

He was persistent and you almost gave in. Why did you feel bad rejecting him? You had told yourself if someone new wanted to enter your life, you would allow them. You were going to be open to moving on after Jude. But why was it so hard to do just that? For god’s sake, you couldn't even give him your number, without thinking back to Jude. Thinking of how he would feel, or what he would say to you. 

You gave him an apologetic smile, before nodding your head, “What about my insta?” to which he quickly agreed. 

If Jude was jealous before, he was over the roof now. He scoffed seeing you exchange whatever you were doing, his nails deep into the palm of his hands ignoring the sting in his heart. Were you moving on? Even if there was no label put on the two of you, it looked like you were, and that truly scared him. Jude’s questions were still unanswered to him, and now he was losing it, darting over to where you were. “Jude just give it up. Give her-” he heard them say but he was just focused on you. 

“No. You can’t, I won't let you. She’s doing just fine without you,” one of your friends said as she saw the tall man beginning to approach you. “I don't care! I am miserable and I won’t put up without a fight. If she doesn't want to talk I'll hear it from her,” he said, which is true, he could have his temper and you knew that. He wasn’t going to give up so soon. Giving up on you was out of the picture…“I'll see you around,” the stranger said smirking, making Jude internally gag. 

“You won’t.”

You look up and see him standing there, just like you had seen him before with an all-black outfit. He looked hurt, a small frown placed on his lips, and his brows plugged in together confounded. Jude turned his gaze to Alex, now a scowling look to the stranger from tonight, once he heard him remark back, “And who's to stop me from that? You?”

Jude licked his lips, and scratched his temple, nodding before saying something, “Yes me. Is that a problem?” he raised his brow, approaching Alex closer with small steps. “Well, it seems like your girl, Y/n right?,” Alex pointed to you with his head, “Is currently not taken, so I'm free to do whatever I’d like. And if she was, well then, seems like it didn’t stop her from giving me her socials?” 

Alex was starting to get into Jude’s head, he saw the rage in his eyes causing him to smirk, and tap Jude’s chest, “Well seems like you have your answer…” 

Jude placed a smug look into his face, now tapping Alex’s chest, “Like I said. She’s not interested, because quite frankly all you got was her socials. If she was interested like you seemed convinced to be, she would give in, guess your charming self isn’t fitting her cup of tea. You're only into her for one reason, and she’s not looking for that ” Jude cocked his head to the side in a ‘we both know what we're talking about’ way.

When you saw Alex approach Jude closer that's when you decided to get between them, your hand connecting with his chest, pushing Jude back. You saw Jude’s matches, and you knew what he was thinking, he lost his control easily and you didn't want to cause a scene here, especially for Jude’s sake as he was the talk of the media. An article being posted the next morning saying he was fighting, wasn’t going to look good for him. 

“Stop. Let it go,” you whispered to only where he could hear, Jude glanced down at you, grabbing your hips as you walked him outside, your friends following behind. “I'm sorry for all that, have a good rest of your night, “ you said to Alex, watching him roll his eyes, but you couldn't care less. Jude had a point, and you weren’t looking for a quick fuck. 

When you walked back out, Jude was pacing back and forth, talking to his teammates as they tried to calm him down. Ella walked towards you, trying to get you to go with them, but she understood if you wanted to talk to him. “We’ll be in the car waiting, if you need us don’t hesitate to scream,” she said to which you nodded. It looked like Jude’s friends did the same, walking over to a fancy car, with more than enough room for all of them. 

Your heels clicked against the concrete floor, catching Jude’s attention. “Wha- What was that? Care to explain?” he said furiously, his hand pointing to the direction of the restaurant. “Can you keep your voice down? I don’t think you’d want articles resurfacing-”

“Y/n! I could care less about that. Let them post it, I don’t care. I want to know what happened between us. We don't talk for weeks, and suddenly it seems like you're a new person. Did you forget about us? What we did? What we shared? How you specifically told me that you were falling for me? What the fuck changed?” Jude let out hurt. He was hurting and you saw that. 

“Well to me, I saw and heard what I needed to hear from you Jude. You played me, led me on, made me believe there could ever be something between us. But oh boy was I wrong! I was so wrong about you after you proved to me you weren't the person I had met. The Jude I met is not the one standing in front of me, not the one who promised me they felt the same way but instead lied. Do you not know what that feels like? I feel stupid, used!” you yelled. The frustration being built inside you, wanting to be let out of the cage after being built.

“Led you on? What the hell are you talking about?” he scoffed, shaking his head confused, “I made my intentions very clear to you, how I felt about you. I did anything to make you happy! I wanted to see you happy, happy next to me. I was willing to do anything, I was patient with you. There was a reason why I asked you to teach me Spanish, I wanted to get to know you. If anything I feel like you led me on,” he pointed out, motioning with his hands. 

“Excuse me? How can you say that? I wasn't the one who said ‘Yeah she means nothing to me really. Doesn’t mean shit what we are, just in it for the fun. She’s nice to be around, but being in it for the long run, you know me, how I am. This being in relationships isn't what I want right now’ when your friends asked you about me” you mocked, then slightly gasping when you realized what you’d said. Jude furrowed his brows, a shocked or surprised look on his face, not knowing what to say. 

“What?”

“You heard me. I heard you that night at the party… I went out to look for you to ask if you wanted to head home, or go out to the city, just something between us. But once I heard that it was clear I had read your intentions wrong. I wasted no time and left. Could you imagine the way they would make fun of me? For being delusional and not knowing about how you felt?”

Jude’s face softened, knowing he was caught in the act, and that what he said was true. The familiar of his chest tightening was back, not bearing the fact you were crying in front of him, all because of him. But he had to let you know that what he said wasn’t true, the only he said what he said was because those ‘friends’ he was with, only use him for social imaging. He wanted to protect you, protect you from the cruel world that existed. “Y/n-”

“No. I really don’t want to hear it… I just want to enjoy the rest of my night, my birthday with my friends. Have fun Jude…” you sniffled, wiping your tears away to look more presentable. Jude gripped your wrist when he saw you walking back, “No please, we need to talk about this! I can’t just stand here knowing we can prevent the confusion and mistake further. Please, let’s just talk.”

“Like I said. I want to enjoy my night and make it the moment of my life for once. If you want to fix things like you claim, you always know when to find me…”

It's true. He always did know where to find you. Which is why he was now staring at you from the corner of the club, dancing away with your girlfriends. Take shots then and there, laugh and talk with them, and take photos with your friends. Part of him felt happy, that you were able to distract yourself after crying and being upset. But he just desperately wanted to take you home and hold you, to let you listen to what he had to say. 

His friends would include him, often earning a laugh or joke from Jude, he wasn’t also going to be upset either. He had you back and wasn't going to let you leave again, he was going to try because you didn't read his intentions wrong, just didn’t know the full story. He saw you turn down guys that came up to you, which made him feel proud, and secure, often smirking because you were his girl, his only. 

Most of his friends who came with him left, and then it was just him, standing by the bar, intensely staring at your toned legs, those heels that you wore were driving him insane. Watching as your hips moved to the rhythm of the song, your hands tracing from your thighs, up to your hips and then side, over and over again. It was almost like you were teasing him, which you were unbeknownst to him. You wanted to show him what he was willing to lose. That at the end of the day, you were going to move on and forget about him. 

It was 2 a.m. when your friends decided to leave, and they knew you wouldn't accompany them along, since Jude was still there. They couldn't blame you, they also wanted to make sure you got the closure you needed to move on, so they would support you no matter what. If there's anything you love, is that they would never bring you down or judge you. 

“Still here?” 

Jude got startled, looking down at you, a shy smile on your face, warming his heart. There was something about you being shy and innocent that pulled him in more into you. Wanting to be the only one who would see this side of you, playful and loving. “Yeah… waiting for the most beautiful in the world to leave, but looks like she's standing right in front of me now,” he said, taking a sip from his drink.

“I won’t push you to talk if you're not ready, you know I'm not like that. If you need more time I completely understand you,” Jude stated, he was serious about this, the last thing he wanted was to push you away further. What more could you lose, if talking with Jude meant him being back in your life, you were willing to try. 

“Let’s go home. I'm ready.”

Jude would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. You looked better, sexier than ever. That perfume you wore, he loved, especially how you still wore the gold charm bracelet he gave you. He loved this confident side of you, always used to the quietness and reserved part of you, so attempting to calm his nerves was hard. Trying to get his heart rate to calm down was also getting harder by the second as you led him inside your apartment. 

It was still the same, just with some birthday decor and balloons. The same desk in the back where you two had practiced and gave him Spanish lessons was still there. The plants he gifted you, were hung up and longer, as they dangeled. The teddy he had won for you when the two of you passed by a fair a certain night was on the couch, resting peacefully. The roses he’d given you for today were in a red glass vase, on the small table by a huge mirror you had, making him smile. He missed the feeling of home with you. 

“Sorry if it's a mess, I was studying when they came, and I didn't think I'd see you tonight,” you blushed embarrassed, apologizing but Jude didn't care. He instead just walked over and stared at the roses, “I was starting to think you didn't receive them, or that you threw them away…” he admitted, touching the petals. 

“No, I can’t. They're beautiful, plus it was the first thing I woke up to this morning, along with your lovely letter. Thank you by the way,” you said quietly, being respectful about the gift, interlocking your hands together as you walked over to him, breathing in the familiar cologne. “You’re welcome. I'm glad you like them.” 

You watched as his long fingers played with the ribbon on the vase, his veiny hands flexing, but you could feel his intense gaze on you, slowly looking up, getting lost in his brown eyes, the wrinkles in the outer corners. It went quiet, just the heavy breathing that appeared from both of you, the tension becoming hot and tense, swallowing your dry throat as you cleared your throat, and let out a small whisper of his name, “Jude…”

“I couldn't bear the fact, that the last time I would've seen you was that night at the party… I would've said yes to you, you know? I desperately wanted to get out of there once I joined them outside… they were people I thought I could've associated myself with but I was wrong… being new to Spain, I just wanted to build new friendships, but I regret it with them since all they wanted was the few seconds of fame… I don't know who’s real and who’s fake anymore. You were real though… what we had it's still all real to me…” he spoke up, grabbing your smaller hand into his.

“While you went inside to grab the drinks, they began to talk about you, and I wasn’t going to let them do that, because you felt safe and protected around me, you trusted me and I didn’t want to break that bond. I only said what I said because I wanted them to leave me alone, I wanted you to myself, have this privacy and intimate moments like now between the two of us. I wanted to be selfish and keep you to me,” Jude urged, tracing your knuckles with his thumbs. 

You wanted to dig yourself into a hole, never come out, unless there was a sale 100% off in Sephora. This was all interpreted wrong, you had failed to communicate with him about it, causing you to be distant and sad about it. You felt slightly at fault but it wasn't the case. It still hurt to hear because at the moment it felt like you wouldn't be enough for him. 

“What I said was wrong, and I don’t want it to come off that I become a different person when I'm around other people, because I'm not. I just wanted to protect you, and what we had. You've seen it in the past and I can prove that to you. You know me better than anyone else, only seen this side of me because you allowed me to do that. I'm a way better person around you, and only you. So please forgive me…” his voice becoming softer, pleading at you.  

Your pulse was fast, it's what being around him did to you. But him standing here, fixing things between the two of you, shutting those insecurities and unanswered questions away, and proving to you that whatever went on between you wasn't just for fun or to make you feel used. Jude was in it for the long run, only if it was you aside him, not anyone else…

“I feel dumb… I feel like I might've overreacted and this would’ve been avoided if I had just spoken to you… but it hurt because for a second you weren’t Jude, my Jude…” you said, making Jude’s heart race at the words ‘my Jude’. “I thought I wasn't enough for you… that any minute we had spent together was just for you to have a laugh, but it's clear it wasn’t… So of course I forgive you Jude… only if you forgive me for shutting you out like I did…”

“You know my answer to that… You know I'll forgive you, but it was never my intention to make you feel like that okay baby? Remember that. You’re more than what I deserve, and every moment we spent I have it here. And I got every other thing that I need and want but you,” he took your hand and placed it over his heart, “I love you Y/n…” Jude confessed, swallowing his nervousness away. 

You started at him with wide eyes, searching for any signs that would say to back away but there was none because you felt it too. The love, the lust, the feeling of it, all of it, you felt. Your mom had said you’ll feel with the correct person, the feeling of being stable, knowing that the person you love would prove it to you every day for the rest of your life. That when you love, there’s absolute trust always. That love isn’t a fairytale, that it exists when you met your soulmate connection. Jude was your forever soulmate. 

“I love you Jude…” you said abruptly, your hand reaching over and tracing his cheek with the pad of your thumb. Now it was his turn to search for any signs, but he didn’t, because the soulmate connection was mutual. You loved him, the way he loved you. He reached over and slowly leaned down to your lips, not pushing the limit not knowing if you’d want it, but when you pulled his neck to yours, connecting your lips together, every cell in his body ignited. He was back where he desired. Back in your embrace where he felt secure, forgetting about anything when with you. 

His hands traveled to your waist and pulled you closer to him, stumbling a little but he made it work. His lips against yours caused an ache, a sensation of heaven in you. All you saw was a future with him. Jude’s tongue prominently teased your bottom lip, wanting to take it into his mouth, so he was quick to do so when you allowed him to. Savoring your sweet taste forever, a tainted memory to cherish. 

Your hands were tucked on his chest, often raking down to his abdomen. Jude pulled away, holding your face while tucking your hair back, “I've been wantin' you, so what you wanna do tonight? Make this the moment of your life,” Jude said, being down for anything. You kissed the tip of his nose, biting your lip, “I don't wanna hidе… Always been a good girl, but I have a bad side. Can I show you, baby? I'ma guarantee you won't forget…”

Jude was going crazy, his cock hardening under his boxers, the urge to take you right then and there. The innocence was gone from you, no more shy girl, and he wanted to know the bad side you proclaimed to have… to kiss every inch of your skin, the birthmark under your ear, the small painted moles of your chest and neck. To have you cumming underneath him, over and over, to show you who you belong to, to show you the love. He heard the small whimper you let out “Just like that,” as he continued to discover more of you. 

“I don't want a taste, I want the whole damn thing,” he said as he walked you over to your bedroom, “How I feel with you, it feels right, so what you on for the night, baby?”

As he slowly removed your dress, he fell in love again right then and there, you looked pure, perfect, untamed, and for him only, kissing your collarbones all the way up to your mouth where he gave you a messy and passionate kiss. Feeling the warm skin against his palms, he wanted to capture the moment forever, trace every curve and imperfection on you. “So pretty and sexy for me baby, want it all, anything you're willing to give me as long as you say it.” 

“If you don't mind, you should try to stay the night. Because I'm willing to let you do anything you want, I'll let you make this the moment of your life…” you say, removing his shirt and tracing over his pecks, kissing his soft skin, watching as goosebumps appear, hearing him let out a grunt before diving back to kissing your lips. 

“Anything the birthday girl wants… she’ll get…” 

yourusername 🔒

liked by: judebellingham, ellaaaooo, yourfriend, others.

yourusername: grateful to see another year, cheers 🥂

comments:

ellaaaooo: cheers to us indeed! happy birfday 🤩😍

↪️ yourusername: love you babes! thank you for today! 🤍

judebellingham: love you princess. cheers to another year, can’t wait for the next one! 😉😍😘

↪️ yourusername: thank you for the roses! mi principe! 🤍😍

user: happy b-day! 🎂

liked by you.

yourfriend: #milf 😵‍💫. #ursosexy. #savemesomecake.

↪️ yourusername: love you pretty 😂🤍

otherfriend: SKSKDNNDN HAPPY MF BIRTHDAY 🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️

↪️ yourusername: NDNNDNEJ THANK YOUU!! 🤍🤍

oldfriend: 😍😍😍

liked by you.

judebellingham

liked by: yourusername, ellaaaooo, gioreyna, camavinga, auroleitchuameli, jobebellingham, yourfriend, user388, and 1,876,456 others.

judebellingham: mi flor. mi motivo. mi amor. mi maestra de español. 🌸❤️

comments:

yourusername 🔒: te amo guapo! y era secreto de nosotros…

↪️ judebellingham: oops, tenían que saber que tu eres mía y para mi 👀❤️

camavinga: congratulations bro! ❤️

↪️ judebellingham: thanks bro! ❤️ camavinga oh ohhh camavinga oh ohh 🗣️🗣️

↪️ yourusername 🔒: ignore him… thank you!

gioreyna: it’s official!! happy for you two!

↪️ judebellingham: thank you! cheers mate! ❤️

↪️ yourusername 🔒: 🤍

jobebellingham: THANK GOD @YOURUSERNAME!! he was driving me nuts with him being sad and emo…

↪️ yourusername 🔒: LMFOAOSOOS 😂😭

↪️ judebellingham: shut it. or i’ll tell mom about last weekend.

↪️ jobebellingham: 🧍🏾‍♂️

user839: we lost him girlies… 💔

user7907: HES TAKEN? WTF? I CANNOT COPE THIS???

user34: she’s so gorgeous 😍

user6656: rue… when was this?

[dandelionsresilience]

Dandelion News - November 22-28

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my Dandelion Doodles!

1. Los Angeles becomes a sanctuary city for LGBTQ+ youth and immigrants as officials reject Project 2025

“The Los Angeles City Council voted unanimously Tuesday to pass the “sanctuary city” ordinance, shielding queer youth who travel to the city to receive gender-affirming care from prosecution, as well as preventing city resources from being used in immigration enforcement[….]”

2. Huge deforested areas in the tropics could regenerate naturally, study finds

“Cleared or degraded tropical forests around the world covering a combined area larger than Saudi Arabia could regrow on its own, according to new research published Oct. 30 in the journal Nature. [… T]he permanence of regrown forests is critically important to the benefits it can provide to biodiversity and the climate.”

3. Minnesota tribe could soon get a solar-powered resilience hub

“A pair of developers are working to build a microgrid at an elementary school and community center on the White Earth Reservation in northern Minnesota [… which would] provide about 12 hours worth of backup power for residents to be able to charge cell phones, power medical equipment, or stay warm in the event of a power outage.”

4. An exchange between Indonesia and Tanzania supports food security and ocean health

“Around the world, WWF helps manage […] both traditional sustainability-oriented management and science-based practices. This combination supports long-term food security and biodiversity goals. […] Local ownership and management are […] key to achieving stable fisheries and social and economic benefits.”

5. Spiky blue devils and chocolate lilies: Victorian grassland bursts with wildflowers after ecological ‘reset’

“About 70 native plant species could be found within the site, including […] four endangered species of orchid. […] Careful management, including an ecological burn in May and weed control measures to reduce pasture grasses, laid the groundwork for wildflowers to thrive.”

6. Vast forests, wetlands and lakes conserved [in Ontario]

“A vast 970-hectare area featuring thriving forests, wetlands and crystal-clear lakes northeast of Sault Ste. Marie is now protected[….] The intact forests, lakes, wetlands and shorelines support high biodiversity and are home to many threatened species[….]”

7. A New Era of Compassion: How Suncoast Humane Society is Changing Animal Welfare for Good

“Our campus includes outdoor play areas, trails, and even a small swimming pool to encourage animals to stay active, explore, and simply be themselves.”

8. Building climate resilient cocoa farming in West Africa

“[… A] promising new approach to improve climate resilience in cocoa agroforestry across West Africa […] focuses on the critical role of leaf "phenology"—the seasonal changes in leaf cycles—in trees providing shade in managing climate impacts. [… S]hade trees that lose their leaves entirely during the dry season proved especially beneficial in maintaining soil moisture[….]”

9. New Zealanders save more than 30 stranded whales by lifting them on sheets

“[The Department of Conservation] praised as “incredible” the efforts made by hundreds of people to help save the foundering pod. “It’s amazing to witness the genuine care and compassion people have shown toward these magnificent animals[….]””

10. 'A really sobering moment:' English zoo fights extinction of freshwater Boxer pupfish

“Whipsnade Zoo aquarists were recently told by conservation partners that that the world's last remaining Boxer pupfish was in their care, prompting the zoo to carry out the immediate transport of all the "precious" Boxer pupfish eggs to another local conservation and education charity in the name of species preservation.”

November 15-21 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[saintblk]

CAMBOY!DICK GRAYSON

contains: sexual content, vulgar language, black coded!afab!reader

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

CAMBOY!DICK GRAYSON who consistently finds himself trending on twitter. y'all did not hear this from me, but twitter porn was where i found the best porn. he wears a poorly made, cheap, half-face batman mask he found in the costume aisle of a target. he snorted and placed it in his cart but found it absolutely hilarious using it to keep his anonymity as a camboy months later.

CAMBOY!DICK GRAYSON turns his webcam on after a stressful night of crime fighting and comes to the conclusion that he needs to unwind. the tips quickly roll in as soon as his live starts, causing him to break into that toothy grin that makes everyone swoon and keyboard smash in the comments. during some casual small talk, he reaches into his boxers and pulls out his member to stroke. a groan or two break out of his throat every so often until the conversation ends because all he can focus on is the feeling of his hand wrapped around his shaft, pumping desperately for release.

CAMBOY!DICK GRAYSON who meets you while picking little damian up from school. it just so happens you're there to pick up your little brother as well, and you're dressed in the smallest skirt and tightest crop top. turns out you were new to gotham and moved in with your family while paying off your college debt. every inch of you seemed to be glistening, and the scent of your cocoa butter moisturizer filled his head with sinful thoughts. so in true dick grayson manner, he manages to charm you into bring your little brother over to make nice with damian, who seems utterly mortified at the thought. you accept anyway with a cheeky smile and put your number into dick's phone.

CAMBOY!DICK GRAYSON has you bent over nearly every surface of his apartment soon enough. he's completely infatuated with you and baffled at what was supposed to be a fling becoming far more. the hold you had on him was beyond that of your tight cunt clenching around his length, though that was part of it. dick finds himself allowing you to do what no other woman had done. he lets you stay the night, let's you make breakfast after some life-changing morning sex. he even allows you to parade around his apartment with just his shirt on while he simply takes in the view.

CAMBOY!DICK GRAYSON who makes love to you on camera for all his fans to see. he's got you wearing a cat-woman mask just as poorly made as his own, that tickles his face just a bit whenever he leans down to kiss you. his fingers intertwine with your's as you wrap your legs around his waist to keep him inside you. he fucks you with reckless abandon and makes you lose all rational thought. he cums with you that night, planting soft kisses on your warm skin and whispering secret 'i love yous' meant only for your ears.

CAMBOY!DICK GRAYSON is exceptionally good at aftercare. as soon as he shuts the camera off, he's slipping the mask off and scooping you up in his arms to run the two of you a warm bath. it soothes your sore muscles, and hearing his words of praise make you feel like you're on cloud nine.

"so good for me..." he hums with a peck to the shell of your ear. "did so well, baby."

you bite your lip and sink into his hold just as he urges you to talk about your day. you ramble about any and everything and camboy!dick listens as though every word you speak is worth more than gold. any moment with you is treasured by him considering his job as nightwing kept him from you during the nights. camboy!dick relishes in the tranquility of it all and basks in the moment. there and then is when he decides holding you in his arms is a far better alternative to winding down than webcamming ever was.

2023 ©️ all rights reserved by saintblk (me) | do not copy, repost, promote, or translate any of my works without my permission

[aayakashii]

Can I have a 11❤️ and 12❤️ fluffy fic for Ed please?

Also a 40❤️ and 41❤️ smutty fix for Leo?

Thank you! 😊

I had to choose between the Ed or Leo drabble, and since I had other similar Leo requests, I chose him, sorry 😭 I promise I'll write some fluff for Ed eventually (๑•́ ᎔ ก̀๑) and thank you for liking my writing!! It means the world to me <3

35❤️ A kiss against a wall

40❤️ An impulsive kiss

41❤️ A kiss out of spite

Warning: spicy and kinda dubcon (?) Nothing that explicit, but still: MDNI.

Leo was sucking on a blueberry lollipop. Loudly. His lips puckered as he pulled it out of his mouth with a loud and aggravating pop. He then held it right in front of your lips.

“Lick it” he said, flatly, his face portraying no emotion. You could see how his tongue was stained blue and so were the insides of his lips.

You glared at him.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” you hissed, wishing you could throw daggers through your eyes and into his acid yellow irises.

He had you uncomfortably pinned against the wall of his room, his thigh forcefully shoved between your legs and one arm planted right beside your head.

He was close. Way too close for comfort. You could smell his designer cologne and look into the pores on his face – all perfectly closed and moisturized. His sweet breath fanned your own cheeks and you knew you looked like his absolute opposite: sweaty, flustered and haggard. Your heart beat fast inside your ribcage, but at least you knew it wasn't because you were excited at this development.

No. You just were fucking angry.

Leo shrugged.

“You've been avoiding me all day on purpose. Like, ignoring my dms and all. I had to grab your attention somehow, duh.” he wiggled the lollipop in front of you again “Come ooon. Lick it.”

You shifted in your position, but Leo barely budged. Goddamn the stupid strength of these ghouls, you thought.

You tried turning your head away from him, but he followed your movement anyway, head tilting to the side as he forced himself to stay under your gaze. He batted his eyelashes as he managed to make eye contact with you again.

You groaned.

“Of course I'm ignoring you. I'm not a masochist that's going to accept all your insults.”

He pouted, putting the lollipop inside his mouth again to give it a harsh suck – purposefully making an extremely grating and embarrassing sound.

You knew what he was doing, but you refused to let him have the satisfaction of flustering you.

“You used to be such a good pet, you know” he shook his head, feigning hurt “You used to accept everything I said with a nod and an ‘okay’. Where's my old and nicer Honor Roll?”

You laughed bitterly.

“Even I have my limits, Leo. I'm not going to give all my time and energy to some wannabe playboy influencer who can't do anything but be fake and mean.”

That seemed to have peeved him a bit more than you were expecting. You swallowed hard as you watched his gaze become bitterly cold. He pushed his thigh further against you.

“I said. Fucking lick it.” he murmured through gritted teeth, pushing the lollipop inside your mouth once you gasped at the friction of his thigh between your legs.

You hesitantly closed your lips, the artificial blueberry taste quickly coating your mouth as he rubbed it against your tongue.

“Suck it.” he began pushing the candy further into your mouth and you quickly complied, afraid he'd push too far just to make you gag.

You sucked the lollipop and a smirk slowly tugged the corner of Leo's mouth upwards. He patted your head once the hard candy was out of your mouth with a pop as well.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, breathlessly, while he stuck out his tongue, making a show of putting the candy, now coated with your saliva, back inside his mouth.

You grimaced when he hummed loudly. It was awful, having to admit to yourself that this little stunt of his was arousing you, as you felt an uncomfortable heat pool in your groin.

However, as you looked down, you realized how Leo was anything but unaffected as well – the tent in his pants was very much visible, and you gasped.

He grinned maniacally, extremely pleased at how you had noticed the bulge in his pants. Quickly, he pressed his hips against yours and grinded shamelessly, moaning pornographically right next to your ear.

You closed your eyes tightly, trying to ground yourself so you wouldn't fall straight into his trap just because you got excited, of all things. You wouldn't allow this humiliation.

“Open your eyes” he mumbled breathlessly with the candy still inside his mouth “I have to have your eyes on me, otherwise none of this will be worth it” he completed, and you had a feeling he wasn't just talking about humping you like some horny teenager.

You breathed deeply as he kept on grinding against your core slowly, further awakening an unwanted pleasure in you.

“You hate me, Leo” you whispered against his cheek while he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

He giggled.

“And I love hating you” he raised his head, mumbling his words against the corner of your lips before taking the lollipop out of his mouth to place a kiss on your cheek.

“Fuck you.” you growled.

“I would like you to help me do that.” Leo moaned, as if your hatred towards him brought him great pleasure.

Without actually putting much thought into your actions, you snatched the lollipop out of his hand, placing it against your lips and pushing it against his.

Leo's eyes widened as your tongue swirled against the candy and prodded against his own lips. A satisfied chuckle resounded inside his chest once he understood what you were doing, and he quickly followed your movements.

You felt filthy as you kissed Leo, sharing the lollipop between your tongue and his. You two sucked and licked the candy, drool stained blue running down to your chins, and Leo whined against your mouth.

Like a whore, you thought.

You broke the kiss first, eyeing how his lips were fully stained blue, and you thought that yours probably looked the same. As you threw the accursed lollipop in the trash nearby, the realization finally hit you.

Brilliant. Now that both of you had blueberry coloring all over your mouths, anyone who looked at you would probably guess something might have happened between you two.

You rolled your eyes and groaned, slapping your hand against your forehead as you realized you, indeed, ended up falling straight into his trap, no matter how much you tried to avoid it.

He smiled devilishly, grabbing your hand and placing it against his painfully hard bulge. You bit your lip, stifling whatever aggravating noise could come out of your mouth.

“Now that it's come to this, you could just stay and fuck me like you said you would, hm?” he pleaded, all brightly doe eyed and feigned innocence.

“I never said that.” you spat.

“No?” he placed a finger on his chin, pensive “Funny, I could swear you said ‘Fuck you’.”

You widened your eyes at his nonsensical words. You opened your mouth to protest, but then immediately closed it, with a sigh.

There was simply no way to go against Leo when he wanted something and he knew that, if the wicked grin plastered on his face was anything but a sign.

He grabbed your hands and pulled you towards his bed.

“Next time, Honor Roll, you better think twice before ignoring me.” he declared, and you begrudgingly agreed. You had learned it the hardest way.

[raitonsfw]

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Yūta's hands trembled as he slipped off the lace of your clothing, silently admiring the way you fell open for him for the first time; your wedding dress hanging neatly on the back of the door.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, virgin!reader, virgin!yūta, newlyweds!reader & yūta, first time, shyness, bit of anxiousness, slight clumsiness, p in v intercourse, creampie, implied fingering at end, yūta's the only one who cums (but it's implied he helps the reader at the end)

a/n: will probably write a part two or like an actual fic for this one (i'm enamored by the idea of newlywed!yūta- maybe i'll have him fuck reader in the wedding dress next?) wc: 600ish v-day m.list | m.list

thirst count: 1

divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics

The moon had hung low in the night, the glow ruminating off the luxury of the sheets that littered the bed. You had finally gotten all of the pins out of your hair, freshly washed and your skin lax with moisturizer as you laid there underneath Yūta– a bit frazzled. 

You barely knew what you were doing as you ran your hand down his chest, a quiet sigh escaping you when you reached towards the drawstring of his sweats– right above his hardened cock. His hair was still damp as it tickled the near back of your neck as he pressed light kisses within the crook of it. A quiet groan had fallen from his lips seconds prior to this; it made you freeze in your tracks– pulling away to look at him. 

“Yūta, is ever–” You began, your eyes searching his face for any discomfort but you were met with a soft kiss and his arms holding you gently in an embrace. You were relieved and nervous all at the same time, his lips moving against yours in a way you’ve never quite felt before. It was intoxicating and you felt the butterflies in your stomach flutter as one of his hands trailed down towards your shorts. 

“A-Are you okay?” He breathed against you, pulling back gently to look at you with those doe eyes of his and you nodded. Yūta looped his fingers into the cotton of the shorts, tugging them down along with your panties and you gasped lightly as you felt so exposed now. Of course, he’s seen you dress before but nothing like this– your beautiful figure now on display as he stared in awe at you. 

After a bit of fumbling, he managed to get the two of you completely naked– albeit he almost tripped trying to get his sweats off from the sheer anxiousness of actually having sex with you for the first time; for the first time in general.

You had tried not to stare at his body, but his cock was hard not to stare at as it curved against your thigh, heavy and hot and waiting to fill you full. Another insistent urge hit you and you needed him inside you now, a quiet whine escaping you. 

“Yūta, you can put it in.” You eased him from his thoughts as he planted kisses down your collarbone to your chest, a shaky hand fondling your breast with slight curiosity. He wanted to see what you liked and when you looked down at him with a small smile, a blush spread throughout his cheeks at your words.

His cock twitched as he positioned himself right against your entrance and you wanted nothing more than his lips on yours as he slowly sank in. You threaded your fingers against the back of his hair, pulling him in needily as he started to push into you, a quiet moan from him being swallowed by your kiss.

It felt so intense and a slight pain sensed you raw until Yūta rolled his hips into you more adamantly, your name being the only thing he knew as he made sure you were okay.

You felt every inch of him dragging alongside your walls and he couldn’t help but bury himself into the crook of your neck after a while, fucking into you to chase his fast release.

You felt so good around him– much better than his hand and it felt like his cock was going to explode with the pleasure that clenched around it, as you squeezed him so tightly with every rock forward. His eyes rolled back as he gasped through his orgasm, his fingers digging into your hips as a desperate attempt to pull you closer to him. 

And when he pulled out, his eyes glanced down to your cunt as it dripped full of his cum– a shy expression painting his face as his fingers went to swipe into it innocently. “Here– I’ll help you finish…”

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Eight: Loyalty

Chapter WC: 11,915

Chapter Tags/Warnings: background character death, brief description of wounds/blood

A/N: This is a long one! I had to make up for all the Rex we were missing before. Please enjoy the angst (my fav) and my attempt at writing battle scenes (my agony).

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Join the Taglist | Masterlist

Felucia, 21 BBY

"This is disgusting," you mutter, wiping the sweat from your forehead. It's a fruitless endeavor, the humidity unbearable. You're soaked to the bone, the mud caking your boots, the insects swarming around your face. You slap away a large winged bug and grimace when your palm meets a slimy substance.

"It's not that bad," Rex replies, his helmet under his arm. His hair is damp, skin shining, but he doesn't seem bothered by the weather, and you can't help but be a bit jealous. "I've seen worse."

You glare at him and wipe your hand on your tunic, the ichor smearing across the fabric. You'd forgone your usual white robes, the outfit too impractical for a planet like this, and instead opted for a set of beige, lightweight clothing. It was simple, a pair of pants, a tunic, and a matching hooded cape draped overtop your chest plate, but it allowed for more freedom of movement despite the way the moisture in the air made the fabric cling to your skin.

"Says the man in the full-body armor," you retort, gesturing at him with a dirty hand. "How are you not dying right now?"

He shrugs, the smile on his face a touch smug. "Guess I'm just built different, sir."

You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth lift into a smile. Despite the heat and the bugs and the general unpleasantness of Felucia, you've found yourself enjoying the company of the Captain. Rex is a capable soldier, and he's easy to work with, but it's his sense of humor and dry wit that have made the mission bearable. You've found yourself relying on his calm, collected demeanor and his quick thinking. He's a natural leader, and his men respect him, which makes your job a lot easier.

You trudge forward together at the front of the line, careful not to step into any of the large pools of standing water. The ground is squishy, the mud oozing beneath your boots, and you resist the urge to gag.

You're walking beside a stream, the water slow moving and murky. A few large, bulbous plants hang over the banks, the pods swaying slightly in the breeze, and the air smells earthy and sweet, a combination of rotting vegetation and fresh flowers. It would have been beautiful, had it not been for the stench of decay and the constant buzzing of insects. And the knowledge that, at any moment, something could pop out of the bushes and try to kill you, or worse, eat you.

"So, this is where the Separatists want to make their stand, huh?" you say, your voice low, and your eyes scanning the horizon. "They picked a real shitty spot."

Rex snorts, and the sound is loud and surprising. The sudden urge to laugh threatens to bubble up, and you bite your cheek, fighting to remain serious. You might be a little delirious, the heat and the humidity making it difficult to think straight, but Rex's reaction is too much.

A burst of laughter escapes your lips, and you cover your mouth, your shoulders shaking. Rex looks at you, his brow furrowed, but his expression is amused.

"They picked a good defensive position, sir," he corrects, the words a half-hearted reprimand. It loses its impact, however, as his own lips twitch upwards. "It's a tactical choice. This terrain makes it difficult to advance."

"You're right, I know," you manage between giggles, and you hold up a hand in apology. Your laughter tapers off, and you take a deep breath, wiping the tears from your eyes. "Sorry, it's the heat, I think."

Rex shakes his head, and his eyes twinkle. "I get it, sir. This place is...something else."

The two of you continue along the stream, and the troops fan out, keeping a safe distance behind you. You sigh and run a hand through your hair, pushing the sweat-soaked strands away from your face. It's been several days since you landed on Felucia, and you've been fighting the Separatists nonstop. The jungles are filled with traps and wildlife, and the enemy is well-equipped for the terrain. You've managed to secure a few key locations, but the fight is far from over.

Anakin and Obi-Wan have led the bulk of the assault, while you and Ahsoka have been assigned the task of clearing out the smaller outposts. You'd spent the morning in the thick of the battle, using the Force to aid the clones as they took out enemy droids. Now, you're on your way back to the rendezvous point, and the heat of the jungle is starting to get to you.

You feel as if you've been dipped in a vat of swamp water, and you can't shake the feeling of stickiness, the sensation both disgusting and unpleasant. You'd give your left arm for a cold shower, or at the very least, a fresh set of clothes.

You turn, and Rex is staring at you, a frown tugging at his lips. You must look a sight, the sweat pouring down your face, the mud splattered on your boots and trousers. It's far from your best, and you can't help but wonder what Rex is thinking, whether he finds you unappealing or repulsive.

The thought causes your stomach to twist, and you glance down, avoiding his gaze.

"We're almost there," Rex says, noticing the look on your face. He puts his helmet back on, the click echoing in the silence. "Just a little further."

"Thank the Force," you groan, and you can't stop the pout that forms on your face. "I'm beginning to think we should just let them have this stupid planet."

Rex chuckles, the sound distorted by the modulator, and he gestures at the trail ahead. "Just keep moving, sir."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," you mumble as you wipe more sweat from your eyes. "I'm going, I'm going."

The two of you move forward, your pace slow and measured. You're tired, the heat and the humidity sapping your strength, and the fatigue is beginning to catch up with you. You stumble, and Rex grabs your arm, his grip firm but gentle.

"Steady, sir," he murmurs, and he waits for you to regain your balance before releasing you.

You mumble an apology, and you take a deep breath, trying to shake off the tiredness, the ache in your muscles. You're not used to this, the physical exertion of war. The fighting is one thing, but the constant marching and camping and traveling are another. The heat, the humidity, and the lack of sleep are all taking their toll.

You've been running on adrenaline, and it's finally catching up with you.

"You're not looking so good, General," Kix says from behind you, his voice laced with concern. "Are you feeling alright?"

You try to hold back your long-suffering sigh, the urge to roll your eyes strong, but you manage to refrain and turn to face him, the effort almost too much. Kix helmet darts from you, to Rex, and back again, the worry evident in his posture.

As the medic, Kix's place was with the Captain, staying close to his side and monitoring the men. It was a responsibility he took seriously, and his care for his brothers was admirable. It made you trust him and respect him, but you were also incredibly sick of his constant vigilance. He had a tendency to hover, and you were starting to feel smothered. He reminded you a bit of a certain ginger-haired Jedi, and it was hard not to let it rankle you.

"I'm fine, Kix," you insist, trying to keep your temper in check. You give him a weak smile, the expression meant to be reassuring, but you know it's probably coming off more as a grimace.

"You've been sweating an awful lot," he observes, and his tone is suspicious, the words a bit accusatory. "You could be dehydrated."

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. "It's a jungle, Kix. Everyone's sweating."

"You don't look like everyone, sir," he counters. His medical scanner is out before you can stop him, and he runs it over your body, the whirring noise grating. "You look flushed, and your pulse is elevated."

"Will you quit it," you hiss, slapping his hand away. You take a step back, putting some distance between the two of you as if it'll make your sudden irritation dissipate.

Kix stiffens at the rebuke, and his hand lowers to his side, the scanner still gripped tightly.

"I'm just trying to do my job, sir," he protests. "And right now, that job involves making sure you're okay."

"It's the adrenaline," you snap, and the words come out harsher than intended. You wince immediately, the guilt settling in. You'd been struggling with your temper, the anger simmering just beneath the surface, and you were doing your best not to take it out on the people around you, but sometimes, you slipped. "We need to keep moving, or else we'll be left behind."

"Kix is right," Rex interjects as he steps forward, his tone firm. "You look like you could use a break, sir."

"Captain," you warn, and you level him with a glare. "I am fine."

He folds his arms over his chest, and even though his face is hidden behind his helmet, you can tell by the way his body is angled towards you that he's not backing down.

You grit your teeth, the stubbornness setting in, and you square your shoulders, mirroring his posture. The two of you stand there for a moment, locked in a silent stare down, neither of you willing to budge. The rest of the troops continue marching past you, their bodies rigid and their footsteps heavy. They avoid looking at you, gazes focused straight ahead as if they can sense the tension between the two of you.

Rex is the first to speak, his voice quiet and measured. "You've been pushing yourself pretty hard, sir."

"You haven't seen me push myself," you scoff. "I'm only getting started."

"I'm just saying, maybe it wouldn't hurt to slow down."

"I'm not going to slow down," you argue. You plant your feet, the movement resolute, and the determination settles into your bones. You weren't about to let some hot-shot captain, no matter how handsome, or nice, or charming, tell you what to do, or how to act, or how to handle your own mission.

Rex, on the other hand, seems completely unperturbed by your show of defiance. His stance is relaxed, his shoulders loose, and he seems entirely unconcerned. He simply continues to stand there, arms crossed, and his helmet tilted ever-so-slightly to the side. It's an infuriating gesture, and you have to fight the urge to throw something at him, or, better yet, to push him into the stream.

You glare at him, and the silence stretches on, the seconds ticking by. With every step the  troopers marching on the path take, your resolve wavers. You can feel yourself start to wobble, the tiredness getting the best of you.

You can't deny that, maybe, perhaps, Rex has a point. You've been pushing yourself hard, the guilt and the shame fueling your desire to prove yourself, and it's starting to wear on you. Still, you can't seem to bring yourself to admit that he's right, and the thought of slowing down, of admitting defeat, is just too much.

So, instead, you just keep glaring.

Kix's voice, when he speaks, is cautious. "General, if I may..."

"What," you snap, not bothering to look away from Rex.

"You're clearly dehydrated, and you could be suffering from heat stroke. Maybe the Captain is right. Maybe we should—"

You turn your glare on Kix, and the words die in his throat, his helmet dipping, and he takes a step back. You open your mouth, ready to give him a piece of your mind, but your vision is struggling to catch up to the sharp movement of your head, black spots clouding your eyes, and the words don't come.

The ground shifts, and your balance falters. You sway on the spot, your knees buckling, and you pitch forward.

"Sir!"

Rex moves with surprising speed, and his hands reach out, catching you by the waist. You feel the mud squelch beneath your feet, and then his arms are wrapped around your torso, holding you up. You blink a few times, trying to clear the fuzziness from your vision, and you feel another pair of hands grab your arms, helping steady you.

"I'm alright," you mutter. You shake your head, and the world comes into focus. Rex is still holding you, and Kix is standing beside him, his expression concerned. You can't help but blush, the embarrassment creeping up your neck, and you swallow hard, willing your heart to slow.

"Sorry," you say, your voice hoarse, and you wince at the sound of it. "I think I need a minute."

"Take as much time as you need," Rex replies, his voice soft, and he lets go of your waist. Kix takes hold of your arm, and he helps guide you off the trail and into the thick underbrush. Once out of view of the marching army, you settle against a tree trunk, the bark rough against your back. You lean your head back, and you shut your eyes, willing the world to stop spinning.

"I hate this place," you mutter bitterly. Your back slides against the trunk, and you end up sitting on the ground, your legs stretched out in front of you, and the mossy leaves squishing beneath your weight. You're grateful for the shade and the small breeze that rustles the canopy.

Your eyes open as Rex kneels beside you, his helmet tucked under his arm, and his gaze scan the trees. He looks back at you, his brow furrowed. "It is pretty disgusting."

"Understatement of the year," Kix quips. He pulls a canteen from his belt and hands it to you. "Drink this, sir."

You take the canteen and gulp down the liquid. The cool water soothes your throat, and you feel your strength returning, the weakness receding.

You hand the canteen back to Kix and manage a smile. "Thanks, I needed that."

"How are you feeling?" Kix asks, his tone clinical. He pulls a scanner from his belt and begins waving it over your body.

"Better," you reply with a tired sigh. You glance around, the jungle a blur of green and brown, and the realization sets in. You're supposed to be in the middle of a mission, not sitting in the bushes, wallowing in your misery. You look at Rex, and he gives you a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry. We're wasting time," you say, and you start to push yourself up. "We should get moving."

Rex places a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down. "Not a chance, sir. You're going to rest until you're feeling better, and then, we'll move out."

"You sure? What if—"

"General, please," he interrupts, and the use of the title, and the pleading tone of his voice, causes your resistance to crumble. "You need to rest. Don't worry, we'll keep an eye out."

Your mouth opens and closes, and you realize he's right. There's no use arguing, or trying to change his mind. Rex is just as stubborn as you, and if he's set on helping you, then there's no way you're going to talk him out of it. 

Finally, you sigh and nod, closing your eyes. Your muscles are sore, and the heat is draining, and it's a relief to get off your feet. The sounds of the jungle fades away, and all you can hear is the sound of your own breathing. You can feel the Force all around you, the life that exists within the plants and animals. It's a living, breathing entity, and you let yourself get lost in its rhythm, the connection between you and the world a strong, steady flow.

Meditation has always been a useful tool, but it's been harder since Yaddle, the anger and the self-loathing making it difficult to quiet your thoughts. Today, though, surrounded by nature and the bright, pulsing life all around you, the meditation comes easier, and you lose yourself in the peace, the darkness fading.

Time slips away from you, and you're not sure how long you sit there, basking in the light of the Force. It's only when a hand touches your shoulder that you snap out of your trance, and you leap to your feet, drawing your saber in one fluid motion.

You press the button, the yellow blade hissing to life, and the world comes rushing back, the sounds and the smells and the sights assaulting you.

Rex jumps, and he steps back, holding up his hands. "Woah, easy there, General."

"Shit," you mutter, and you lower your saber. The adrenaline ebbs away, and you take a deep breath, the tension leaving your body. "I'm so sorry, Rex. I didn't mean—"

"It's alright," he says as his hands fall, his voice hoarse. "I shouldn't have snuck up on you like that."

"No, I should've known better," you protest, feeling embarrassed. You deactivate your lightsaber and tuck it back into your belt, and you take a step closer to him, checking to make sure you haven't injured him. 

There's a spot on his shoulder, the blue material slightly scorched, and you realize that the tip of your blade had come a little too close for comfort. You reach out instinctively and run your thumb over his pauldron, the armor still warm from the proximity to your weapon.

"Are you okay?"

His helmet tilts down, the visor following the movement of your hand, and he clears his throat, his voice sounding a little strange. "Yeah, I'm good, sir. Nothing a bit of paint won't fix."

You glance up at his face, the helmet still tilted towards you, and he shifts, his posture stiff. It's hard to tell if he's upset, but his body language reads as uncomfortable.  "You sure?"

"I, uh, I'm fine," he replies, and he clears his throat again. His hand comes up, and he runs it along the back of his neck. He seems nervous, and you're about to ask him what's wrong when you realize you're still touching him, your fingers still running along the edge of his pauldron.

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and you snatch your hand back, clenching it into a fist at your side. "Right. Sorry. It was just, um, habit, I guess. Did you need something?"

Rex coughs, and he shakes his head. He's quick to respond, the words coming out rushed. "Uh, yes. Actually, I did. I was just coming to let you know that the rest of the men have gone ahead to the rendezvous point. They should be there any minute."

"Oh," you say, the realization dawning. The jungle is empty, and the only sounds are the rustling of leaves and the buzzing of insects. "Shit."

"You've been asleep for an hour, sir. We've been taking turns watching you."

Your mouth falls open, and the flush returns to your cheeks. "An hour? Seriously?"

"Yeah," Rex says, the amusement evident. "We weren't sure what else to do, so I let you rest. You seemed like you could use the sleep."

"I can't believe I fell asleep," you mutter, covering your face with your hands. "I'm sorry, Rex. I didn't mean to keep everyone waiting."

He shrugs, and his hand moves to your shoulder, squeezing it gently. "It's okay, sir. Don't worry about it."

You can feel his touch through your armor, the pressure sending a tingle down your spine. The solid weight of his palm is a welcome distraction, and you let yourself enjoy it, the feeling grounding.

"Are you feeling better?" he asks, his voice soft.

You nod, the answer coming without hesitation. "Much."

His hand lingers for a moment longer before he releases his grip. He drops his arm, and his helmet tilts, his gaze appraising. "Good. Come on, let's get you back to base."

"After you, Captain," you say, giving him a small bow. He chuckles, and the two of you walk side-by-side, his arm brushing against yours. The path ahead is worn down by the many boots and vehicles that have trod upon it, and it's surprisingly easy to find, the trees spaced far enough apart that it's possible to walk without tripping over roots and branches.

The humidity and the heat have subsided, and the temperature is pleasant, the sun low in the sky. You can hear birds, and frogs, and various other animals, the sounds loud and raucous, and the air smells sweet, the flowers filling the air with their fragrance. It's a nice change from the stench of decay that's permeated the day, and you find yourself enjoying the walk, the beauty of the jungle finally becoming apparent.

You glance at Rex, his head moving left and right as he scans the area. His shoulders are relaxed, his stride even, and he seems more at ease than he has been since you've arrived on the planet. The thought makes you smile, and you feel your own stress lightening.

"How's Ahsoka?" you ask, breaking the silence.

"She's doing well," Rex answers without turning. "A little hot, but she's handling it better than you."

"Togruta are built for this kind of climate," you say, a touch of defensiveness in your voice, and you're careful to avoid stepping on a large vine that's fallen across the path. "I can't help that my human body is weak and fragile."

"You're hardly fragile, sir," he teases, glancing over his shoulder. "I saw you punch a clanker on Geonosis."

You snort as the memory hits. "That was different. I was angry."

"And reckless," he adds. His tone is more amused than admonishing, and you know he's smirking at you from under his helmet.

"I thought I was brave," you counter, raising an eyebrow. "Isn't that what you said the other day?"

He chuckles, and he shakes his head, his gaze returning to the trail ahead. "I did."

You grin, a pleased feeling washing over you. From what you've gathered, Rex is a man who takes his duty and himself very seriously. You've seen him joke with the other clones, and there's a camaraderie between them that's obvious. But, there's a formality when he speaks to others, a sense of professionalism. It's clear that he respects the chain of command, and you can't help but feel flattered that he's comfortable enough around you to tease, and to speak more freely.

You're reminded of his words to you that day, when he refused to allow you to chase after Dooku in your misguided anger. He had seen the truth of the situation, and he had been willing to speak up. And you weren't sure how he'd managed to break through your stubbornness, but he had.

You're grateful for his honesty, and for his willingness to challenge you. It's refreshing, and it makes you like him all the more.

"What are you thinking about?" Rex asks, his gaze never leaving the jungle, and his hand rests on his blaster.

"Just thinking about Geonosis," you reply. "And how you told me off."

"I did not tell you off," he protests, his tone indignant. "I merely...advised against you acting rashly."

"You did," you retort with a laugh. "But, I'm glad you did. Otherwise, I might not be here right now. I never got a chance to thank you, and I want you to know how much it meant to me."

He shrugs, and his steps slow. "Any good soldier would've done the same."

"Still," you insist, shaking your head. "You saved my life. I owe you."

Rex stops, and he tugs his helmet off, the action so sudden, it startles you. He's staring at you, his expression intense, and his mouth is pressed into a firm line.

"You don't owe me anything," he replies, his brow furrowing. "That's not how this works."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we're soldiers," he says, voice tight. "Our duty is to protect the Republic, and the citizens of the galaxy. We are sworn to serve, and that includes our Jedi. It's not about debts or favors or gratitude. It's about doing what's right and what needs to be done."

You fall silent, the weight of his words settling over you. It's a noble sentiment, and it's easy to see why he's risen so quickly through the ranks. You've always known that the clones were loyal, that they would die for the Jedi, for the Republic. But, it's the first time you've heard one of them explain it, and the intensity in his voice makes your heart clench. 

It, for whatever reason, makes you feel uneasy. Not because you don't believe him, but because you're not sure if he understands. There's a difference between loyalty and blind obedience, and there's a part of you, deep down, that worries that maybe Rex doesn't know the difference. That maybe the Republic prefers it that way, that it's easier to have a slave than an ally.

You shake your head, dismissing the thought, the shame settling in. You're being paranoid, you know. Rex is a good man, and his loyalty is a gift. A gift that, perhaps, the Jedi have taken for granted.

"I'm sorry," you say, your voice quiet. "I didn't mean—"

"It's not your fault, sir," he says, cutting you off. "We were created for this. This is what we were made for."

The words are meant to be reassuring, but they have the opposite effect. Your stomach twists, and the unease grows, the guilt weighing heavy.

"Doesn't that bother you?" you ask, unable to stop the question from leaving your lips. "Being created for a single purpose?"

He looks at you, his head tilted slightly. His face is impassive, his expression blank, and it's impossible to read his thoughts. You hold his gaze, and you realize how little you really know about him, or the other clones. You've been so focused on yourself, on your own failures, that you've barely given any thought to the fact that there's an entire group of people fighting alongside you, fighting and dying, and all you've done is complain about the weather.

He shrugs, and his posture changes, his shoulders dropping slightly, and he runs a hand over his head. "Not really," he says, and he sighs. "It's all we know."

"But, it's not fair," you protest, shaking your head. "You're not just soldiers. You're people. You have thoughts and feelings and hopes and dreams. And, yet, the galaxy expects you to put them all aside, to lay down your lives, for a cause you had no choice in joining."

Rex is silent for a moment, and his steps slow. He seems surprised by your words, his brow furrowed, and the corners of his mouth turn downward.

You realize you've said too much, and the guilt returns. You shouldn't have opened your mouth. You should have just kept your thoughts to yourself. 

You try your best to push down the part of you that wants to continue, to say more. To tell him that the Republic is corrupt, that the Jedi are blind, that the galaxy is full of suffering and pain. That the war is a waste, that it will lead to nothing but destruction, and that he deserves better. But, you swallow the words, the anger and the frustration building, and you keep them locked inside.

The truth is, you don't know Rex, not really. And you don't have the right to tell him any of those things. No matter how much you might want to. No matter how much you feel.

Rex's face, however, shows none of these emotions. He's silent, the only sounds the buzzing of insects, and the rustling of leaves, and just when you're beginning to think he's not going to respond, his shoulders rise and fall.

"Well, I for one am grateful," he says, his voice soft, and he keeps his eyes trained straight ahead.

"What?" you ask, not expecting his answer. "Why?

His gaze flicks towards you, and the corner of his mouth twitches. "Because it brought me here." 

"Here?" you echo, raising an eyebrow. "Felucia?"

"Yeah," he says, chuckling, and the tension melts away. He gestures to the surrounding jungle. "I mean, not exactly here. But, the idea. It's just...if the War hadn't happened, I wouldn't be here. None of us would. We'd just be sitting on Kamino, waiting for the day we're decommissioned. Or, maybe, we'd already be dead. Or never have existed in the first place. It's hard to say."

The words are spoken casually, as if they're a matter of fact, and the realization sets in. He's right. If not for the war, the clones wouldn't exist. They'd be just a handful of embryos, a dream, a plan.

But, the war gave them life. And, for many, it gave them death. The thought sends a chill down your spine, and you look at him, the understanding hitting.

"I see," you say, the words coming out quietly. "I suppose I've never thought of it that way."

"It's the only way I can think about it."

Rex's gaze moves back to the path, and you fall silent, his words echoing in your head. He's right, of course. There's no point dwelling on what could have been. The war is here, and there's no going back.

You can't help but admire his attitude, and his ability to find the positive. It's not the first time he's impressed you, and you realize that perhaps, he's the most optimistic person you've ever met. You wonder, briefly, if all clones are like that, or if it's something unique to him.

The two of you walk in silence, the conversation having run its course, and you sneak glances at him as you continue on, the curiosity getting the best of you. There's something about him that's magnetic, and the longer you're around him, the harder it is to look away.

He's handsome, and strong, and kind, and everything you're not. The thought makes your heart sink, and you're reminded once again of your shortcomings, of the darkness inside of you.

You wish, for the briefest of moments, that you were worthy of him, that you deserved his loyalty and his respect.

But, you know you don't.

You shake your head, the movement slight, and the dark thoughts vanish. It's useless. Wishing won't change anything.

Instead, you focus on the task at hand, the mission, and you try to clear your mind. You're almost back to the base, and the thought fills you with relief.

It's another few minutes before the two of you emerge from the thick foliage, and the camp comes into view. It's a large clearing, surrounded by towering trees, and the ground is a combination of dirt and grass. Several tents are being set up, and the sun is beginning to dip below the horizon. It's a welcome sight, and the anticipation of food, and sleep, and a chance to get out of your armor, is a tantalizing prospect.

You're halfway across the clearing, your eyes focused on the makeshift mess hall, when the air shifts, and the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. You come to a stop, and you reach out to grab Rex's arm, the feeling of foreboding overwhelming.

"Sir?" he asks, his voice low, and his body is tense, coiled.

You're about to answer, but you're cut off by a blaster bolt hitting the ground at your feet, the impact sending up a spray of dirt and rock.

You react on instinct, drawing your lightsabers, the blades glowing brightly, and you spin around. You're able to block the second shot, and the third, the energy of the bolts sizzling against the saber, and you step forward, your body moving into a defensive stance.

Rex is beside you, his blasters drawn, and the two of you move together, circling around, scanning the jungle for the source of the attack.

"Stay behind me," you tell him, the order sharp, and your gaze flicks over to him.

"Sir, you should stay behind me," he counters, his tone just as firm. "This is my job."

"Captain, I'm not going to let—"

"There!" one of the troopers shouts, pointing his finger at a group of trees.

The air is split by the sound of gunfire, the shots ripping through the underbrush, and the blaster bolts tear into the vegetation. Several of the branches fall to the ground, and the trunks are peppered with smoking holes. You can see the glint of metal bodies, and the flash of red, and you grit your teeth, the anger rising.

Droids.

It's an ambush.

The droids are closing in, the outlines barely visible through the thick, green leaves, and they're firing with a single-minded determination. Rex signals for the men to fire, and the clones begin returning the shots, their guns flashing. Several droids fall, but more appear. The battle is on, and you move to the edge of the clearing, intent on taking the fight to the enemy.

Rex is close behind you, his presence a comforting weight, and the two of you rush towards the tree line. The droids are scattered, the blaster bolts raining down on the area, and you raise your blades, ready to meet the enemy head-on.

Your first strike is a slash, the blow slicing through a super battle droid's midsection, the halves falling apart.

Rex is at your side, and his shots hit the next two droids, the metal bodies sparking and sizzling.

You take the next one, a swing cutting the machine's arm clean off, and the appendage flies through the air. You leap into the fray, the blades blurring as you move, relying on your muscle memory to keep you going as you scan the jungle. The droids are everywhere, and the clearing is filling with their bodies.

It's chaos.

You're surrounded, and it's all you can do to keep the shots from hitting the men, your sabers swinging, the light reflecting off the armor and the trees. You throw a boulder, the Force propelling it forward, and the impact crushes a group of the machines.

They keep coming, and the clearing is a whirlwind of activity. You can't see Rex through the mass, and you grit your teeth, the frustration building. You've barely begun, and already, the droids are getting the upper hand.

It's a losing battle, and you can't help but wonder if, maybe, there's another way.

A droid aims a blaster at your chest, and you deflect the shot, sending the bolt ricocheting before leaping into the air. You land behind it, your lightsaber severing its head.

The head hits the ground, and you glance up, seeing Rex's outline through the haze, the smoke from the blasters clouding the area. He's moving in your direction, and you move to meet him, your sabers a blur, the heat of the bolts making your skin prickle.

His head whips to the side before he suddenly grabs your arm and pulls you, his body twisting. You're about to protest, but the words die on your lips as an explosion rocks the ground where you were standing. Your ears are ringing, and you struggle to stay upright, the shockwave rippling through the clearing.

Rex looms over you, his blasters raised and his body shielding yours. You can't hear anything, but you can tell by the way his helmet is moving that he's speaking to you.

Your head is pounding, and your vision swims. You look up, blinking, and your eyes finally focus on the scene before you. The spot where you'd been standing is nothing but a smoking crater, the dirt and rocks scattered. The trees, too, have been shattered, their trunks broken, the leaves ripped apart.

You take a deep breath, and the sound comes rushing back. You can hear the shouts of the clones, the sound of blasters firing, and the explosions of grenades. It's all so loud, the noise deafening, and you want nothing more than to curl up in a ball and wait for it to be over.

Instead, you stagger to your feet, your body aching. Rex grabs onto your arm, helping steady you. He says something, his voice muffled, and you shake your head, trying to clear it.

"What?" you shout, trying to be heard over the cacophony.

He leans closer, his grip tightening. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," you lie, pushing yourself away from him, and you take another breath, the dizziness subsiding. You give him a weak smile. "That's two I owe you, Captain."

He shakes his head, and the helmet tilts, the motion conveying the exasperation. "You can repay me by not getting yourself blown up, sir."

You roll your eyes, but you can't help the smile that spreads across your face. "I'll do my best."

Another blast hits the ground a few feet away, and the two of you jump back, the dirt and rocks flying. The droids are still advancing, their numbers seemingly endless, and you realize that the clones are losing ground.

"We have to get out of here," Rex shouts, the panic obvious. "This is a losing battle."

You glance around, trying to see a way out. The clearing is a battlefield, the bodies of droids and clones littering the ground. It's a bloodbath, and the men are outnumbered. There's no hope of winning, and it's only a matter of time before they're overrun.

You can feel the weight of the decision pressing down on you. It's not the first time you've faced such a dilemma, but it never gets easier. The will to keep fighting, to give everything you have, to protect the people you love.

And yet, there's another part of you that knows when to retreat, when the cost is too great. It's a part of you that you're ashamed of, a part that you try to bury. But right now, with Rex at your side, and his brothers' lives in danger, it's hard to ignore.

You look at him, and his gaze meets yours. You find yourself wishing you could see his eyes, and the expression on his face. To know what he's thinking, and what he's feeling.

He seems to sense the question, and he gives a slight nod, the gesture conveying the understanding. He's with you, and whatever choice you make, he'll support you.

The knowledge helps. And it strengthens your resolve.

"Alright," you say, grimacing, and your hand lifts as you activate your comm. The static crackles in your ear, a deafening roar, and you're not sure if anyone will hear. "Anakin, can you hear me?"

The line is silent, and for a moment, you fear the worst. Then, a voice, garbled and distorted, cuts through the noise.

"Goldie, what the hell is going on?"

Relief floods you, and you press the button, the sound of the battle still raging around you. You press your back against the tree, using it as cover, and Rex does the same a few feet away.

"We have to retreat," you shout, your words almost drowned out by a barrage of blaster bolts. "There are too many droids."

Anakin is quiet for a moment, and the sounds of the battlefield echo through the comm. You hear his saber slice through something, and he yells a command, the order almost indistinguishable.

"We can't," he says, his breathing labored. "We have to stand our ground."

You watch Rex, and the helmet turns, his body still tense. He's focused on the fight, but you can feel his anger, and his frustration, and his desire to protect his brothers. It's palpable, and the emotions feed yours, twisting, and pulling, and growing.

You swallow, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. "Anakin, we're getting slaughtered out here. We have to pull back, regroup, and try again later."

"Not an option, Goldie. We can't afford to lose this base," he counters, his tone firm. "If we lose the base, we could lose the planet."

Rex ducks from cover, firing, and a droid falls, its limbs jerking as the sparks fly. He's back in position in seconds, his helmet turning, searching for another target.

The droids are advancing, and they're beginning to surround you, their metal bodies crowding the tree line. The clones are starting to fall back, and the gap between the two forces is narrowing.

It's getting dangerous, and it's only a matter of time before the battle will be completely lost.

"Anakin, listen to me," you say, your voice low. "We have to leave. If we stay here, we're going to lose more than the base. We're going to lose the entire battalion."

The words seem to echo in the air, and the tension in the clearing is so thick, you can feel it. You take a deep breath and reach out, trying to center yourself. The Force around you is in chaos, but you can feel Rex, his presence steady and strong. You cling to it, to him, and it's the only thing that keeps you from spiraling into panic.

Anakin doesn't respond right away, and the silence drags on. More and more clones are falling back, passing you and heading towards the safety of the jungle. You see Kix dragging an injured trooper, the man's leg a bloody mess, and you wince.

You wait for Anakin's response, knowing the decision is his. You've given your advice, and you trust him to make the right choice. You always have, and you always will.

But, right now, in the heat of the battle, it's hard to have faith.

"Fine," he huffs at last, and his voice sounds strained. "Pull back, but we're coming back with a plan to take this damn base."

You breathe a sigh of relief, the weight of the decision lifted from your shoulders. "Copy that. We'll rendezvous at the secondary camp."

You end the transmission, and Rex glances at you, his helmet tilted.

"The general is calling a retreat," you explain, and his shoulders relax slightly. "We need to get to the secondary camp, and then, we can regroup."

"Yes, sir," he says with a nod. He raises his hand, signaling to the clones, and his voice echoes in the clearing, the sound carrying over the chaos. "Fall back! Fall back!"

You watch the troops obey, the men retreating into the jungle, their bodies disappearing into the foliage. It'll be miles before you reach Obi-Wan's camp, and the walk will be a long one.

You look at Rex, and the two of you share a brief moment of eye contact before he's moving, and the two of you fall into step beside each other, running alongside the others. The droids follow, the battle raging, and the forest is filled with the sounds of gunfire, and screams, and the hum of the blasters.

The sun has set, and the air is cooler, the night sky a dark purple barely visible through the canopy. You keep running, the exhaustion beginning to set in, and the ache in your muscles making each step a struggle. The path ahead is littered with obstacles, the fallen trees and rocks, and the thick underbrush making the going difficult. You can hear the footsteps of the clones, the rattling of their armor, and you try not to think about how many might be injured, or worse.

You try not to think about what might have happened if you'd stayed, or how many more would have died if you hadn't made the decision to retreat.

The guilt is a constant, weighing heavier on you with every step. The battle had been a loss, but you couldn't shake the feeling that the retreat had been a mistake. That you should have pushed harder, or come up with another plan. It's a feeling you've had before, and it never gets easier.

The pain in your head grows the longer you run, the headache becoming a dull throb, and the pressure builds, the darkness threatening to take over. It's a familiar sensation, and you try to block it out, focusing on the path ahead and on keeping up with the pace.

The minutes drag on, and the air becomes more humid, the scent of rain filling your nose. The droids are still pursuing, and you can see the flashes of their lights as they move through the trees. But, they’re getting farther and farther away, the gap between the two sides widening.

The wave of relief is tempered with the exhaustion that finally catches up with you, and you have to slow down, your breathing heavy. You stumble, and Rex reaches out, his arm steadying you.

"Sir, are you sure you're okay?" he asks, his voice low with concern, and the helmet tilts as he studies you. "You took a pretty bad hit."

"You don't have to babysit me, Rex," you retort. The words coming out more sharply than intended, and Rex immediately drops his hold on your arm.

"I'm not babysitting you, sir," he says stiffly. "I'm just concerned. It's my duty to make sure you're safe."

You roll your eyes, the frustration rising, and the anger bubbles to the surface. It's been a long day, and the last thing you want is to be coddled. Especially not by Rex, especially not when all he's doing is making you feel like a failure and a liability.

"I'm fine," you insist, a bit harsher than necessary, and you start moving again, intent on leaving him behind, the urge to put distance between the two of you growing. "I can take care of myself."

He falls into step beside you, his steps quickening to match yours.

"I'm well aware, sir," he says. The exasperation in his voice is clear even through the modulation of his helmet, and you can't help but wince. You're being unfair, and you know it. But, you can't stop the feelings from building. "But, I would appreciate it if you would allow me to do my job. And, my job is to protect you."

"And, my job is to protect you," you bite out through clenched teeth. "All of you."

You shake your head, and the guilt settles in, the regret mixing with the anger, and the resentment, and the self-loathing. It's a potent combination, and it makes your stomach twist, the nausea growing.

Rex doesn’t respond, the two of you walking side by side in tense silence. It's unbearable, and you know it's your fault. You're the one who started it, after all. You're the one who keeps picking fights and pushing people away.

But, you can't help it. You're not built for this. For the war, and the battles, and the responsibility. You were never supposed to be here, and the more time you spend on the front lines, the more you realize how unprepared you are, how out of place.

It's a harsh reality, and it makes the anger burn brighter.

It's not fair, and it's not right, and it's not what you want.

And, yet, here you are, leading a battalion and fighting a war. And, no matter how hard you try, you can't seem to get it right. You can't seem to keep them safe, or stop the fighting, or end the war. You can't seem to make a difference, no matter how hard you try.

You can't seem to do anything.

"With all due respect, sir," Rex starts, breaking the silence. His voice is soft, and he sounds almost...defeated. "It's not the same."

You stop, your gaze shifting towards him, and he slows, coming to a halt beside you. The clones keep moving, and the group is beginning to stretch out, the men spreading out along the trail.

You look at him, and he meets your gaze, his posture tense.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, there's a difference," he says, voice deliberate and measured. "We were made for this, to fight and die. You weren't. And, we don't expect you to. We know you're doing your best."

The words hit harder than expected, and the breath leaves your lungs, the realization sinking in. It's not the first time you've heard it, and the clones have said it often. But, somehow, coming from him, it seems to carry more weight. You don’t like it. Not the words, not the sentiment, and not the way it makes you feel.

You shake your head. "I'm a Jedi," you argue. "This is my job, just as much as it is yours."

"No, sir," he counters, his tone firm, and the certainty is unmistakable. "Your job is to lead, to guide us, and to protect the Republic. Our job is to fight, and die, if necessary. We're expendable, you're not."

The words sting, and you can't help the flinch, the emotions threatening to overwhelm. It's too much, and the tears sting your eyes. You take a deep breath, trying to swallow the feelings down.

"That's not true," you say, shaking your head. "You're not expendable. You're valuable, and important, and you deserve to be protected."

Rex sighs, the sound crackling through his modulator, and for a moment, he just stares, the gaze impossible to read. He's silent, and the only sounds are the footsteps of the clones, the rustling of the leaves, the distant sounds of the battle, the echoes of explosions reaching your ears.

He reaches up and slowly pulls off his helmet, and his eyes lock with yours. The moonlight shines off his face, highlighting his cheekbones, and the curve of his jaw. He looks tired, the bags under his eyes more prominent, and the worry is etched into his features underneath the dirt and the sweat.

It hurts to look at him. To see the concern, and the understanding, and the care in his expression. It makes the guilt and the shame that much worse.

"I know you believe that, sir," he says, and his voice is quiet and gentle. "But, the truth is, we're soldiers. This is what we were bred for. What we were created for. And, if we die, we'll have fulfilled our purpose. We'll have served the Republic, and the Jedi. That's enough."

The words are said with a finality, and you understand without a doubt that he believes them, every single one. That, in some strange way, he's happy with the path he's on.

You shake your head, unable to wrap your mind around it. Unable to accept it. "Rex—"

"General," he says, cutting you off. He moves closer, his hands clenching around the helmet in his grip. "Listen, the last thing I want is to make this about me. But, I need you to understand, this is how we see it. How we feel. And, I don't think you can lead us if you don't recognize that."

His gaze is intense, and his eyes search yours, looking for something. What, you're not sure. But, it's clear that he's not going to back down, and that he's not going to change his mind.

You swallow as the realization sets in. The truth is, you do know in a way, perhaps more than either of you realize. You've known since the moment the Jedi found you, since the moment you were brought into their fold. That, to the galaxy, and the Force, and the universe, you were always a tool, a means to an end. That your life was not your own, not really.

And, that, one day, you would die, and it would all be for nothing.

"Why?" you ask, the question slipping out before you can stop it.

"Because, it's the truth," he says, and the response is so honest, and so open, it makes your chest ache.

"No, I mean, why are you so okay with it?" you ask, shaking your head. "Why aren't you angry, or frustrated? Why aren't you fighting it?"

His lips press together, the frown pulling at the corner, and he looks away, his eyes focused on the path ahead. He runs a hand over his head and down the back of neck, the action seemingly unconscious.

He's silent for a long moment, and you wait, the anticipation growing inside you.

Finally, he sighs, his shoulders sagging, and he glances at you.

"Because, I was made for this," he says, his voice soft. "This is what I was created for. And, I know I'll never be able to do more than this."

His words are like a punch to the gut, and you can't hide the hurt in your eyes. The look on your face seems to make him realize the impact of his words, and Rex quickly averts his gaze, his expression contrite.

He turns, and the two of you continue walking, the silence settling over the two of you, the awkwardness growing.

You're not sure why his words bother you so much, but they do. You've always known that the clones were designed for war, that their sole purpose was to serve the Republic. But you've been bothered by it since the day they arrived, beacons of hope and fear and everything in between. Since the first time you saw Rex, a sense of dread washed over you, and a pit formed in your stomach. It's a feeling that's only gotten worse as time went on, and every day brings new horrors.

The more time you spend with them, the more human they seem. And the thought of their lives being taken for something so meaningless makes you want to scream.

You've never been able to understand how the Council could condone the use of the clones, or how the Jedi could turn a blind eye. It goes against everything you were taught, everything you believe. And, it's a constant reminder of the corruption and hypocrisy of the Order.

The thought makes the anger rise, the resentment bubbling to the surface.

"It's not right," you mutter, and the words are more to yourself than to him. "It's not fair."

Rex looks at you, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes are dark, and they're filled with something. Something you can't quite name, something that makes your chest tighten and your heart beat faster. He doesn't ask, and he doesn't have to. He knows.

"That's just the way it is, sir," he says, his voice steady. "This is our place, and we have to make the best of it."

The words are heavy, and they land with a finality that resonates. He's accepted his role, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to fulfill it. No matter the cost, no matter the pain.

You wish you could be that selfless, that determined. You wish you could be like him, and Anakin, and Obi-Wan. They all have a strength that you'll never understand, a sense of duty and honor and courage that you can only dream of.

You wish you could have a fraction of their conviction, their dedication. But, you're not like them. You've never been like them. And, you doubt you'll ever be.

You're not sure what to say, so you don't say anything. Rex secures his helmet back on and moves ahead of you, taking point, his pace brisk, the armor glinting in the moonlight. You're left alone, and you're grateful for the reprieve.

You're not sure how to deal with your feelings, with your frustration. You feel helpless, and there's a part of you that wants to grab Rex by the shoulders and shake him until he sees the truth, until he understands.

But, you know that won't work. You know that, in the end, the only person who can change his mind is him. And, even then, you're not sure it would make a difference.

You walk, and the night passes slowly, the exhaustion seeping into your bones. Your body aches, and your head is pounding, the pain making each step a struggle. The battle, and the argument, and the journey have drained you, and the emotional toll is just as bad.

You try to reach out through the Force, to draw on its power, and it comes slowly, the energy flowing through you, and around you. But the presence of so much death and destruction is disorienting, and the pressure builds, the headache becoming a steady, throbbing pain. You need to find Obi-Wan, and soon. Otherwise, you're afraid you might snap.

You can't help but wonder if that's what the Council intended, when they assigned you to the front lines. To push you until you break, and then, send you back to the Temple, a lesson learned. Or, maybe, they don't care at all. They've washed their hands of you, and now, they're content to watch you fail.

The thought sends a chill down your spine, and the anger simmers, the resentment building. You're not sure what the truth is, but the possibilities are terrifying.

The base camp is quiet when you arrive, the men hunkered down and waiting for the next wave of attacks. You can feel their fear, their anxiety, and it makes your chest ache. There's nothing worse than the waiting, the not knowing. It's a different kind of battle, one that's just as dangerous, and just as painful.

You make your way to the command tent, the flap open and the light spilling out onto the ground. Ahsoka and Anakin are already there, looking over a holo-map, and their heads snap up as you enter, their gazes locking onto yours.

The tension in the air is palpable, and their faces are drawn, the exhaustion written on their features. They've both been through a lot today, and you can feel the weight of it pressing down on them.

You give them a small smile, and Anakin nods, his posture relaxing, if only slightly. His eyes shift behind you, and the concern returns, the worry etched into his face. You turn, following his gaze, and your eyes lock with Rex's.

He's standing in the entrance, his helmet in his hand, and his eyes are narrowed. The worry, and the anger, are clear, and it's obvious to you that he's still upset.

You turn back, the guilt too much to deal with, and you try to rub the tiredness from your eyes. As you move to stand beside Anakin, you can't help but notice the way Ahsoka's eyes flick from you, to Rex, and back again.

She frowns, and she glances at her master, the silent question in her eyes. He doesn't respond, his focus on the map, and she sighs.

"Are you alright?" she asks you, her voice low.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you reply, and you try to give her a reassuring smile, but you're not sure it's very convincing. "Just a little tired, that's all."

"It's been a long day," she agrees, and her eyes linger on the bruise on your face, the blood dried and flaking. "You should get that checked out."

You shake your head. "I'll be fine. It's just a bruise."

She gives you a look, her eyebrows raising, and she opens her mouth to protest, but Rex beats her to it, his voice cutting her off.

"I agree, sir," he says, moving closer. The armored plates of his thighs hit the edge of the holotable, his movements stiff, and you wince at the sound. "You should get it checked out."

The three of you look at him in surprise. He's been quiet since you arrived, but now, he's standing firm, his eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. He's not backing down, and the frustration is radiating from him, his anger almost tangible.

Anakin's eyebrows raise, and his lips twitch in amusement. "I see Rex has been acquainted with your infamous stubbornness, Goldie."

You roll your eyes. "I'm not that stubborn."

Rex makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a scoff, and you shoot him a glare.

"I'm not," you insist, crossing your arms. "Besides, there are more important things to worry about. We need to discuss our next move."

"Agreed," Obi-Wan's voice echoes from the tent opening. He enters with Cody close behind, his face drawn. "We have to come up with a plan, and fast. We're losing ground, and we can't afford to lose this planet."

His eyes drift over you, his gaze lingering on the bruise, and he frowns. "I see you've gotten yourself injured again."

The accusation is clear, and the anger flares, hot and bright. You bite back a retort, not wanting to start another argument, and you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. Obi-Wan must feel it, because he sighs, and the annoyance leaves his face, his eyes softening with understanding.

"Come here, my dear," he says, gesturing as he steps up to you. "Let me take a look at it."

You hesitate, the embarrassment making the blush spread across your face. But, after a moment, you move forward, and his fingers lightly trace the bruise. You can't help but wince as he presses on the swollen skin, and his brow furrows.

"It's not serious," Obi-Wan says, his tone thoughtful. "But, you should be careful. Head wounds can be tricky."

"Thank you, Master," you say, the sarcasm evident, and he smirks. His hand lingers for a moment longer, and then, he drops it, stepping away.

"Now," he continues, moving towards the table. "We need to come up with a strategy, and quickly. There's no telling when the Separatists will make their next move, and we can't afford to be caught off guard."

You nod as you take your place, and the others follow suit, gathering around the holo-map. Through the blue projection of the battlefield, you can see the battle is still raging, the droids advancing, and the clones' position shrinking.

Your gaze shifts, and your eyes lock with Rex's, startled to find him already watching. His lips are pressed together, his jaw clenched, and his eyes are intense, the brown irises darker than usual. He looks away, his gaze turning back to the holo-map, and the feeling in your stomach grows.

You turn your attention back to the meeting, trying to focus, but it's difficult, your mind elsewhere.

You don't want to think about the fact that Rex cares, that his concern, and his anger, and his frustration are directed towards you. You don't want to think about what that means, or how it makes you feel. You can't, not when you're trying to keep everyone alive, not when you're trying to figure out a way to win the war.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself, and you look at the holo-map, determined to focus.

"How long before we can get reinforcements?" Anakin asks Obi-Wan. "We can't hold this position without help."

"The Council is sending additional troops, but it will take time," Obi-Wan says, a note of defeat in his voice. "We'll have to manage the situation ourselves, at least for the time being."

"So, what do we do?" Ahsoka asks as she looks around the table.

Obi-Wan shakes his head, his expression grim. "We fight. Hopefully, we can hold the line until reinforcements arrive."

"And if we can't?"

Your question hangs in the air, the unspoken truth hanging heavy between the six of you. If the Republic doesn't send help, or if the battle goes badly, there will be nothing stopping the Separatists from taking the planet.

It's not something any of you want, but the reality is harsh, and it's a possibility none of you can afford to ignore.

"Let's just focus on getting through the next few hours," Anakin says, his voice firm. "We can deal with the rest later."

The determination in his eyes, the unwavering resolve, is a familiar look, and one that you've seen many times. It's the same look he's had every time you've needed him, the same look he's had since he was just a youngling, always ready to help, to protect, to fight.

He's never backed down from a challenge, and he's not about to start now.

You take a deep breath, drawing on his strength, and you feel a small bit of relief.

"Alright," you say, nodding. "Let's get to work."

You spend the next few hours poring over the maps, planning your defenses, and trying to come up with a strategy. The reality is, there's only so much you can do, and the odds are not in your favor. But, you have to try, and you have to hope, and you have to have faith that the Republic will send help, and that the reinforcements will arrive before the Separatists destroy everything.

Finally, the meeting is over, and the six of you head back out into the camp. It's dark and quiet, and the air is heavy with smoke. The men are huddled around small fires, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames, and they're exhausted, their postures slumped, their expressions grim. There's a somberness in the air, and the knowledge that the battle is far from over.

You walk through the camp, offering encouraging words where you can, and trying to reassure the men, even as the doubt and fear continue to grow. You stop and check on the injured, offering what comfort you can, and you take the time to speak to the medics, ensuring they have what they need.

It's not much, but it's all you can do, and you're grateful for the opportunity to connect with the clones, even for a moment. On your way out, Kix presses a bacta patch into your hands, his eyes narrow in disapproval.

"You need to take care of yourself, sir," he says, voice firm. "No one else is going to do it."

You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. "I will. Promise."

He's not satisfied, but he doesn't argue, and you continue on, your feet carrying you through the camp. You wander, the exhaustion making your movements slow, and the ache in your muscles growing.

Your steps eventually bring you to the edge of the jungle, and you stand, your eyes sweeping over the landscape, the view breathtaking. The moonlight reflects off the trees, the canopy lit up, the colors vibrant. The scent of the forest fills the air, the smell of earth and life and nature mixing with the smoke, the acrid stench of death.

You can't get Rex's words out of your head, his voice echoing in your ears, the memory playing over and over again. You know he's right, and that the clones are different, and that their lives are more expendable than yours, but it doesn't make it any easier. It doesn't change the fact that, in the end, you're all fighting and dying for a Republic that doesn't care about any of you, a system that's broken, and corrupt, and flawed.

You let out a frustrated breath, the anger simmering, and you look up at the sky, the stars glittering. You don't get to see the stars on Coruscant, not with the light pollution, and it's a sight you'll never get used to.

"I can feel your anger," a voice says, and you glance to your left, surprised to find Ahsoka standing beside you. Her eyes are narrowed, and her arms are crossed over her chest. "You're upset."

"I'm sorry." You look away, turning back to the view, the guilt settling in. "I'm just frustrated. It's nothing."

She moves closer, and she's quiet for a moment, her eyes studying you. "About the battle?"

You sigh, shaking your head. "About the whole damn war."

She hums, her expression thoughtful.

"Me too," she admits, and her gaze shifts, her eyes finding the stars. "There's so much, and sometimes, it feels like there's no end in sight."

"It's like no matter what we do, it's not enough," you say, your voice quiet. "The fighting, the death, the sacrifices...it's not changing anything."

Ahsoka is silent, her gaze focused on the night sky, and you can feel her uncertainty, her emotions swirling. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from saying more, to keep from pouring out all your doubts and fears and frustrations. She's younger than you, and she's struggling, just as much as the rest of you, and the last thing she needs is you putting even more pressure on her.

But, before you can apologize, and try to distract her, she speaks.

"We must do the hard work of mastering our fear, so that in turn does not master us," Ahsoka says. She pauses, the words weighing heavily. "Master Yoda taught us that. I never understood, not until recently."

"Yeah," you say, and the sadness hits, the realization settling in. "Me too."

She turns, her eyes finding yours, and her expression is solemn. "We have to stay positive. We have to believe that there's a way out of this, that we'll find a solution. Otherwise, the anger, and the hate, and the despair...they'll consume us, and we'll never be able to come back from that."

The tears well, and you nod, your throat tight. For a moment, you don't trust yourself to speak, and the silence stretches between the two of you. Ahsoka seems to understand, and she turns back to the view, giving you the time you need to collect yourself.

You look up at the stars, the sky bright and the stars glinting, and, for a moment, you can almost believe.

"We will find a way," you say with a conviction you don't feel, and you give her a small smile. "We have to."

She nods, and her lips curve upward. "Yes, we will."

"Has anyone ever told you you're wise beyond your years?" you tease.

She rolls her eyes, and her smile grows, the amusement lighting up her face. "Not as much as they should."

You can't help the laugh, the sound bubbling out of you, and the tension leaves your body. She grins, her expression mischievous, and she nudges you playfully with her elbow.

"You know, if you ever want to talk, I'm here. We can...hang out, or whatever."

The invitation is unexpected, and the surprise must be written on your face, because she quickly adds, "I mean, if you want."

The happiness flooding your chest catches you off-guard, and it takes you a moment before you can find your words.

"I would like that," you say, and she returns the smile, her relief palpable. "How are you at Sabacc?"

She raises her eyebrows, interest sparking in her eyes. "Pretty good. Why?"

You grin. "I have a deck in my tent."

"Are you challenging me, Master?" she asks with a smirk.

"Only if you're brave enough, Padawan," you say, and her smile widens.

"Okay, bring it."

You laugh, and the two of you turn, heading towards the tents. As you walk, Ahsoka starts talking, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you, and you find yourself relaxing, the anxiety easing with every step. It's a rare occurrence, these moments of levity, and you're grateful for the chance to be happy, if only for a little while. 

You'll need it, if you're going to survive what's to come.

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