#private eyes??? banging ship tag | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

staylovesmiley · 5 months ago

Note

request 👉👈: Han as a pirate crew member falls in love with The captain's (Chans) younger sister(also a crew member,doctor of the ship)and how they sneak around chan to see eachother, tooth rotting fluff

(please)

author’s note; I really hope I did your request justice~ I know you said tooth rotting fluff but I couldn’t help but thrown in some angst near the end with this prompt hehe-

If you want to be tagged in any future skz reqs or reqs of other groups I write for pls see here

ᯓᡣ𐭩Pairing; Han Jisung x Female!Reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩Warnings; fluff, angst, reader is Chan’s little sister, implied sexual relationship between reader and Han, fluff could have been more tooth rotting pls forgive me-, threats of s*icide (kind of? Putting this here just in case), illness, and murderous Chan oops-

Neither of them had intended for things to end up like this, but neither could be truly saddened by the out either.

It started as just him being clumsy, the raven haired man often ending up in the little room she used to treat the crew of various injuries and ailments.

Y/n, ever the diligent doctor, though she only achieved the title since the man she was under apprenticeship with had fallen ill himself and succumb to the sickness while they were still at sea. Her brother wasn’t so fond of the idea of putting her in a position where she was at risk of the same fate treating the sick constantly, but she had insisted that this was her way of being able to contribute more to the crew and after weeks of pleading with the captain he finally allowed it.

Ah yes, Captain Bang’s little sister. She had joined the crew along with her brother under the previous captain’s charge as they were orphans. When the old man finally kicked the bucket and handed over the title to the young Christopher Bang, he had half a mind to drop his beloved little sister off at a convent where she would be safe away from the life of pirating they had always known, but upon seeing her tearful eyes at the thought of being separated from him he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

She was the only woman on board, and the first thing the young captain would tell anyone who set foot on his ship was that she was off limits. No one was to make a pass at her, one lingering glance and your eyes would be gouged out he would say with a smirk that let you think he was merely teasing though the look in his eyes said he was serious.

Han Jisung had no intentions of falling for her, though he had always found her beauty to rival that of the finest jewels, he knew better than to enter those waters under the heavily watchful eye of her older brother, his captain.

But one day after he had cut his palm something nasty while helping out in the kitchens he had been escorted to where the young maiden did her duties. She had welcomed him in with a smile like sunshine and a voice so soft it felt like he was dreaming. Gentle hands worked on his wounds carefully as she kept up small talk to distract the pirate.

It wasn’t the first time he would find himself being tended to by her delicate hands, he was just so clumsy after all.

From a sprained ankle or wrist to splinters or even a mild concussion at one point, y/n took care of it all with a warm smile and gentle care as to not harm him any further.

“You know, I’m beginning to think you just want an excuse to come and see me.” She teased one evening after the crew had all gone to sleep and the raven haired man ended up knocking on the door to her private quarters with a mild case of sea sickness. “Would that…would it be so wrong of me to admit that it could be the case?” He spoke just above a whisper as she looked through a trunk for something to soothe his sore stomach.

Her hands froze on the bottle of tonic. “Is that so?” She said softly, slowly moving back over to the young pirate with the bottle after a moment to regain her composure and attempt to mask the glee she felt at his confession. “And if it is?” His eyes locked with hers, hand moving to grip her wrist lightly where she held the bottle up to his lips. “A-A sip of this should help calm your-“ before she could finish her instructions, Jisung had moved the tonic away and brought his free hand to cup her cheek gently.

“H-Han we can’t-“ she spoke softly, eyes wide as she knew how protective her brother could be. “Just once, please y/n…just one kiss is all I ask.” Her resolve withered rapidly as soft brown eyes gazed deeply into her own, filled with desire and longing she had never witnessed before but had always craved. Silently she nodded in acceptance, letting him pull her to him slowly until their lips brushed against each other softly.

Her breath hitched in her throat at the contact, though it was barely there, and she took the initiative to close the rest of the distance and press her lips to his firmly. It was a bit clumsy, laced with inexperience as neither party had ever shared a kiss with anyone before, but it didn’t stop the butterflies that erupted in either of their chests as her hands found their way to play with the hairs at the back of his neck and his fell to rest gently on her waist.

Once they pulled away for air, a silent promise was muttered that they would never speak of this to another soul, and that was how it began.

It continued just the same, mysterious ailments and injuries plaguing the young crew mate and causing him to have to visit the young physician often. Because of his clumsy and over exaggerated nature no one seemed to be the wiser to the truth of their meetings.

That was until one afternoon while working in the kitchen, first mate Lee Minho happened to slip and land awfully on his hip causing it to pop out of place. He limped his way to y/n’s little office on the ship, stubbornly refusing the help of the crew to get there and when he pushed open the door he was glad it was only he who was there to witness what was behind it.

There, on the cot she laid underneath one of the crew, someone he considered closest to him, Han Jisung. The two of them had pulled away from each other at the sound but it was obvious by the way his shirt was untucked and the first few buttons on her blouse were undone what the situation had been.

Y/n sat up so quickly she almost bumped heads with the man on top of her, the both of them scrambling away from each other and frantically trying to explain away what he had witnessed. “Save it, I saw nothing here. Now, miss y/n, please assist me in getting my hip back into place?” Minho closed the door behind him, moving to lean against the small desk in the room as both Jisung and Y/n looked from the intruder to each other. “Well- I don’t have all day and I’m in an awful lot of pain standing here.”

As if snapped back to reality she went into action, helping her brother’s first mate get his joints sorted before giving him something for the pain. “Please get some rest, Minho.” She spoke softly, giving him an anxious smile. “I will, and you need to learn to be more careful…had it been anyone else that walked through that door and this would have been a different story.” With wide eyes the couple nodded in understanding and Han moved to help the elder crew mate out of the office and back to the bunk room below.

They continued like that for months, meeting now under the security of moonlight while the rest of the ship was deep in slumber, the pair would lay together in her private quarters on the other side of the ship from the captain and crew. As the pale light shown through the single window down onto their naked forms, Jisung would trace slow shapes on her skin as they spoke of what life could be like if they didn’t have to hide their love. Jisung always made sure to leave just before she drifted asleep, whispering apologies and how he wished he could stay till morning but unless they wanted to be found out he needed to return below deck to the rest of the crew before they woke for the morning chores.

Just as autumn began, a chill settling in the salty sea air, the crew began to fall ill one by one. A fever would settle into their bones and though most recovered after a week or so of care and rest, there were few fatalities among them that had those fortunate enough to not fall ill hoping and praying that it wouldn’t be them next.

Y/n was in her office, taking stock of her supplies as she heard the door swing open and yet another sick crew mate dropped onto the cot in the corner of the room. As she stood to make her way over and examine the pirate, her movements froze upon seeing the identity of her newest patient. Her lover, Han Jisung, lay clammy and shivering on the cot and her hand flew to cover her mouth with a gasp.

Minho and another crew mate, Seo Changbin, had brought him there and while Changbin regarded her reaction curiously, Minho sent her a look that told her she had better compose herself and do her job. Y/n quickly covered the lower part of her face with her handkerchief and tied it into place before getting to work.

She had Minho boil a pot of water and once it was brought to her she worked to calm the chills that wracked the body in front of her, administering some of the medicine that had seemed to help those of the crew who had recovered. Working late into the night, y/n tried her dammdest to bring Jisung’s fever down but to no avail.

As the days went on and he didn’t seem to be getting any better, Captain Bang found his sister waiting for him in his cabin on morning with fear and desperation evident in her expression. “Brother, please…can we dock at the nearest town so that I can find him a doctor- a real doctor, please.” She begged, clutching onto his forearm tightly as she looked into his eyes with her own full of sadness he hadn’t seen there since when he had threatened to separate from her all those years ago.

Shaking his head, he was firm in his decision. “You know I can’t do that, y/n. That town isn’t very keen on pirates and we are likely to be captured the second we are within their waters.” Tears brimmed in her eyes as she continued to plead with the captain, suspicion beginning to rise in her brother at the rate of her desperation.

“Over the course of this illness you haven’t once begged for the life of another crew mate like this. Pray tell, what is so special about Han Jisung?” He tone was taunting and cold, his dismissive demeanor causing desperation and fear for the wellbeing of her lover to boil into anger and frustration at being disregarded by her older brother. “We have a strong crew still, if he is to perish then we will mourn him but it is just the way of our life.” With a wave of his hand he motioned for her to leave and drop the subject and the motion seemed to snap something within her.

“His life be meaningless to you but he is all I hold dear in this world, brother- please.” This seemed to pique his interest and he turned to face her once again. “Y/n what are you saying…” With a new set determination and anger coursing through her she stood her ground. “Christopher I am telling you that I love him.”

The captain only let out a dark chuckle, shaking his head. “So the rumors I have heard are true, is that we’re he has been sneaking off to in the evenings? Several crew members have reported him absent at bunk checks several nights now…he’s been going to meet with you, hasn’t he?” Taking a deep breath, now seeing the rage in her brothers eyes at the blatant disregard for the rules he had set in place as captain, she regretted admitting her feelings to him.

“If this is true then he’d better pray the illness takes him before I can get my hands on him.” He said lowly while staring towards the door as if his gaze could pierce through the wood and across the ship to set the sick man ablaze in the bed he rest in. “Christopher please- I’m a grown woman. I know you care for me but if you wish to show me that you will spare him.”

Christopher only shook his head, grabbing one of his pistols from his desk before making his way to the door. “Better to put him out of his misery now and spare anyone else from catching his fever.” Y/n eyes widened and she began pulling frantically at her brothers arms and coat. “Christopher please! Please don’t do this-“ fresh tears sprang to her eyes as she used all the strength she could muster to stop him. “If you end his life I- I will go overboard. I’d rather be without life than without my beloved!” Her screams halted him where his hand pulled at the door.

At the realization that she was serious, seeing the fire burning in her eyes he sighed, running his free hand through his curly dark brown hair before going to set his pistol back on his desk. “I can’t dock at the next town, I’m sorry. You’ll have to pray he makes it through without.”

Nodding, y/n would accept this now if it was only a small victory to spare the life of the one she held dear from certain death as now it was all she could control before making her way back to the office to check on his condition.

It was a long week of praying and working throughout the night to keep his fever under control but all the lack of sleep she received during was made worth it when the fever finally broke and Jisung recovered well, as if the secret of their love was what was holding him back from healing, plaguing the both of their souls and preventing treatment from being effective.

As he fully regained consciousness, y/n explained to him what had happened, tears rolling down her cheeks as she recalled how terrifying her brother had been in that moment and how horribly she had feared for his life.

“Hey, y/n, my love….it’s over, I’m not going anywhere.” His soft, heart shaped smile seemed to calm her instantly and she quickly launched herself at the pirate causing laughter to erupt from his chest as he held onto her tightly. “I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you…” she mumbled into his chest as she clung to him tightly, as if he would disappear should she let go. “Like I said…I’m not going anywhere.”

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids bang chan #stray kids lee know #stray kids changbin #stray kids han #han jisung x reader #pirate au #stray kids pirate au #pirate stray kids #han jisung #female reader #fem!reader #smiles-reqs

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ireadwithmyears · 3 months ago

Text

the art of experience: part 1

we all start somewhere

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Commander Cody/fem reader

Next part | Series Masterlist

Word count: 3.5 K words

Tags/warnings: 18+: minors dni, smut, threesome, lite dom/sub dynamics, experience/figuring things out/slight awkwardness in the beginning, oral (F and M receiving), inappropriate use of the force, no plot

summary: Your main objective when you were hired and subsequently assigned to The Negotiator was to be a beacon of support for the troops, providing them with kindness and a boost of morale. Somehow, you highly doubt that your superiors would have intended this to be a part of your job description. You just prefer to think of it as going above the line of duty for your all too deserving men.

You enter into a new and thrilling dynamic with Obi-Wan Kenobi and Marshall Commander Cody. Thus begins an exciting series of escapades

Authors note:: Months ago, this started off as me in my head going man, I love Codywan so much but I also kind of just want to be in between the two of them, then was tentatively pitched to a couple friends on here, @vodika-vibes and I shared quite a few thirsty thoughts on Saturdays, if I recall correctly. Anyways, I finally had the guts to turn my food for thought into a series, and if you want more information on that, specifically, check out the notes for this on my AO3. But regardless, I hope I’m not the only one who has dreams of being in the middle of a Codywan sandwich, because there is a distinct lack of content to feed this desire out there. But if you also happen to share it, then I really hope you enjoy this.

“Sorry, hold on, I’m sorry I um...”

You had convinced yourself that there was absolutely nothing a person like you could do to help out in the war effort against the Separatists. You weren’t a medic. You weren’t a fighter. Hell, you couldn’t even serve as a passable mechanic to help repair banged-up ships. You’d probably, in all likelihood, end up electrocuting yourself or blowing up a ship while you were still aboard it.

So when your great aunt, most likely with the intention of getting you to do something, anything that got you out of the house, suggested that you join up with one of the Republic's newest war relief force efforts—the Doughnut Cart Girls, groups of women armed with sweets and baked goods being sent aboard ships with troops to provide them with morale boosts and cheer—you thought, “Yeah, if nothing else, I can do that

Your poor, dear, sweet great aunt would be absolutely mortified to know that her suggestion had led to you being in quite possibly the most scandalous position of your life in the private quarters of one High Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi—in between not one but two high-ranking officers of the GAR.

For your part, however, you couldn’t be more thrilled.

Lying flat on your stomach, completely naked on the edge of the bed, you’re propped up on your elbows, hips raised by several pillows that arch your back just so. Obi-Wan is right behind you, his eagerness and impatience displayed by the tight grip he has on your thigh, and the way you can practically feel his eyes burning into you, staring down at the place where he knows if he were to lower his head slightly, he could be tasting you right now.

You both make a lovely tableau, but the only person with any actual ability to unpause this frozen moment—and who seems to be enjoying the anticipation that he draws out from both of you so easily by deliberately withholding that permission—is standing directly in front of you.

It’s one very calm, almost to the point of stoicism if you didn’t know any better, Marshall Commander Cody, whose only dead giveaway is the slight twitch of amusement that persists to pull up his lips as his eyes fall to you, hearing the uncertain question in your voice as you shift around on your elbows. You suddenly wish you hadn’t spoken and tainted the sanctity of this stillness. It would make you laugh really, if he wasn’t looking at you with such an intense focus, as if you’re caught in the centre of his orbit and you’re all he would like to look at. The three of you had gone over so much in negotiations and yet this, such a simple thing, had been overlooked.

“Yes?” he prompts, linking his hands behind his back in an effortless show of authority, looming over you and making your stomach twist just a little more as you glance down at the floor. “What is it, lovely?”

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” you blurt out, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “My plan was to, well, wing it, but I…” You helplessly wave a hand, unable to look directly at his length protruding expectantly just beyond your reach. If you leaned forward, your lips would brush against him.

The thought makes your cheeks burn. “Force,” you scold yourself sternly. “Get it together. This isn’t middle school.”

This had never been a thing your previous partners had been brave enough to ask you for, and you, if you were honest, didn’t care enough to push, considering how useless they all had been when trying, or maybe the proper term was not trying, to get you off. You had decided that when, if ever, the time came, you would give it your best shot and let experience and four years worth of college improv classes be the best teachers. Now though, confronted with the reality of not one, but two men intently watching your every move, the weight of encroaching failure threatens to crush you, making you feel more than certain that this isn’t just something you can improvise and make look like a convincing effort.

You let your elbows drop, and you're met with the momentary solace of your heated cheek pressing against cool bed covers, hiding your embarrassment from their intense gazes.

“I just don’t want to disappoint,” you conclude, your voice coming out slightly muffled and more than a little bit sheepish against the sheets.

If you weren’t so intent upon imagining a hole opening up in the ground that you could vanish into, you would have had to bite your tongue in an attempt to hold back your laughter. This could be funny. This could be hilarious, considering how thoroughly and thoughtfully details had been discussed and arranged before they even entertained the idea of getting you undressed. It had been going so well, everything falling into place like pieces of a puzzle, and yet, here you are, ruining the moment with your lack of knowledge and embarrassing amount of inexperience.

“Dear one...” Obi-Wan’s voice is warm and smooth as honey as his lips brush against your shoulder and his hand snakes beneath you gently to guide up your chin. “Is this something that you want to do?”

Bless him. Bless both of them, really. You know that they would never, ever try to push you to do something—even as trivial or widely accepted as this—if you weren’t comfortable with it, and it’s that knowledge that allows you to quickly nod your head.

“I do,” you reassure quickly, adding a small, nervous laugh. “I just don’t know how,” you say with a shrug.

“That’s okay.” His assurance is whisper soft, almost seeming to be carried by a physical brush against your skin that settles and soothes you despite your anxiety. He leans forward to kiss your cheek. “We all have to start somewhere.”

He looks up, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he meets Cody’s gaze, and continues to speak. “And I happen to consider myself an expert in getting Cody off. So, I propose that I am perfectly suited to teaching you the art of it.”

This causes Cody to roll his eyes in fond exasperation, but they soften around the corners when he hears your small laugh, your shoulders beginning to drop away from where they’ve been hunched up towards your ears as the discomfort and embarrassment in your posture seems to ebb.

“May I, sir?” Obi-Wan asks, looking up at Cody with those big blues that make it hard to deny him on even the best of days, and he sighs, nodding in acquiescence.

“I’d start with your lips,” Obi-Wan suggests, his voice a soft rumble as his own lips dance along the exposed skin of your neck, always gentle and warm with only the barest hint of teeth—a stipulation of Cody’s when negotiations had begun.

The man hid his possessive streak behind a neutral, composed mask. But when he had stated with firm decisiveness that he was to be the only one permitted to leave marks along your visible skin, well, you had had to press your thighs together quite tightly to stop yourself from reacting too extremely.

“Just explore, and I promise that, short of biting him, there’s nothing you could do that won’t lead you to finding something he’ll enjoy as long as you can pick up his cues.”

You don’t see the smirk that overtakes his features as he leans forward, but you do witness the results. Later, you’ll learn that that smirk means mischief, maybe even trouble and a guarantee that it’s intended to put Cody on edge, which it always does. But right now, you watch, intrigued and maybe even a little bit scandalized as he unabashedly reaches forward, giving Cody’s balls a generous squeeze before retreating and listening to the commander's accompanying gasp.

“Lucky for you,” he continues, unfazed except for the telltale tilt of his lips that indicates he’s quite pleased with himself, “Cody’s cues are quite easy to read if one takes the time to listen.”

“Obi-Wan,” Cody murmurs, a low warning edge that seems to be very familiar to the other man creeping into his voice.

The Jedi has the decency to duck his head. “Sorry, sir,” he demurs, though to your ears he doesn’t sound apologetic at all as his lips return to your shoulder.

From the small scoff Cody makes in the back of his throat, he’s disinclined to believe him either.

You don’t give him long to waver on that though. Emboldened by the lips that brush along your skin and Obi-Wan’s encouragement, you lean forward, readjusting yourself on your elbows.

You close your eyes and allow your lips to tentatively explore, kissing up the length of him as if it were any other part of his body, slow and delicate. A controlled, shivering breath from above you indicates that your efforts are being appreciated, and you reach out a hand, trailing it along the edge of the bed until it reaches the broad muscle of his thigh, fingers skimming along it lightly until they come to rest, latching on and feeling it flex and tense beneath them.

“Oh.” A quiet groan greets your ears as your tongue lightly swirls over his balls, a hand, soft and gentle, caressing over your hair. It doesn’t push; it doesn’t insistently tangle to nudge you forward. Cody just strokes, feeling the soft strands beneath the pads of his fingers as he watches, intrigue and pleasure dancing within his brown depths.

“Open your eyes,” Obi-Wan whispers, his voice suddenly very close to your ear which sends a shiver through you as your tongue glides up towards Cody’s glistening tip. “Look at what you’re doing to him already.”

You curiously flutter your eyes open, only to watch his carefully masked expression of control fracture when you take him between your lips, giving the head a small, teasing suck before pulling back. His eyes widen fractionally, and his lips part in a silent “oh.”

“Open your mouth,” Obi-Wan instructs, his hands drawing a trail of heat that tingles down your sides as they traverse their way towards your hips. “Nice and wide. Take him slowly.”

You do, leaning forward and capturing Cody between your lips once more, carefully easing your mouth over him, the deep sigh falling from his lips letting you know exactly what you’re doing to him.

“Good,” Obi-Wan breathes, and it’s a little embarrassing how that one word so softly spoken and the warm timbre of his voice cause you to blush. “Can you tighten these up a little?” His lips again brush against your cheek, and you have to wonder if Cody is still able to feel a muted sensation because his own breath stumbles. You hollow out your cheeks, enveloping Cody in your warm, wet heat. He groans long and low, and Obi-Wan smiles, his lips against your neck.

You don’t need him to tell you what to do now. Slowly, you begin to move your head, lavishing every inch your mouth can reach with attention as you suck, feeling how heavy he sits against your tongue.

It’s Obi-Wan who stifles a low noise now, the sound appreciative, and you swear you can feel his hips minutely buck, the whisper of a firm erection pressing against your ass.

“Isn’t she a sight, Cody?” Obi-Wan asks, his chin resting against your shoulder as he watches, enjoying the view. His lips tease against the shell of your ear as he leans in to whisper, “You’re all stuffed full of him, dearest, and you’re doing beautifully.”

“She is,” Cody hums in agreement, his eyes fluttering as he is torn between wanting to enjoy how warm, tight, and wet you feel around him and wanting to watch your efforts as you work.

The praise sends a heavy wave of pleasure through you, your eyes fluttering beneath their combined attention. You respond by letting out a soft hum around Cody, pulling back to flutter your tongue around his cockhead before taking him fully back into your mouth. Each sensation pulls something new—a soft, surprised curse, a tightening of his hand clenching into a fist at his side, and breath with control that you can tell is becoming harder and harder to maintain accompanied by a whispered, “good girl,” causing your eyes to widen in response.

“She’s figuring it out on her own, love,” he murmurs, and you’re so distracted by the feeling of running your tongue along his underside and feeling how his other hand instinctively tightens in your hair to stop his hips from twitching forward that it takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about you. “You have your own task, Obi-Wan.”

“Yes, sir,” Obi-Wan says with far too much enthusiasm. You can practically hear the smile in his voice accompanied by the soft shifting of him moving down the bed.

Your lips tighten around Cody as you feel Obi-Wan, the slight tickle of his beard, and his lips, followed by his tongue, running along your lower spine, causing your eyes to widen. It’s a testament to Cody’s impeccable sense of control that he remains still, allowing you to adjust to Obi-Wan’s teasing explorations before giving your hair a light, prompting tug.

“You aren’t allowed to come until I explicitly give you permission to,” he says, his voice low and holding the slight threat, the promise of consequences to come if you were to disobey. “Is that understood?”

It takes you a moment—eyes widening with distraction as Obi-Wan’s tongue teases the sensitive juncture of your inner thigh—but slowly, you raise your hand, lightly tapping against the edge of the mattress, the pre-discussed signal for consent if you were in a position where you were unable to speak.

“Good girl,” Cody says in a pleased rumble, his fingers dipping to trace along your lips still wrapped around his cock, eyes closing as he feels himself enclosed in your mouth. “Gods,” he breathes, giving his hips a testing nudge forward. “Such a pretty mouth.”

He tilts his head, looking off behind you. “So quiet like this,” he observes, punctuating his words with another short thrust. “Let’s see if Obi-Wan can change that, hm?”

He doesn’t give you time to wonder at the meaning of his words before a warm, wet tongue is easing between your lower lips, swirling delicately over your entrance before gliding towards your clit. The flat of the muscle slowly presses against it, causing your hips to buck and a surprised whimper to fall from the lips still wrapped around Cody’s cock. The reverberation of sound causes him to let out his own low groan, his hand in your hair now beginning to guide you forward.

Cody lets out a low chuckle, even as his fingers grasp firmly on your hair, causing a tingling, yet strangely not unpleasant sensation at the back of your head as he begins to fuck your mouth in ernest. You can tell he’s holding back, only pushing past what is comfortable but never going too far, letting your expressions dictate the force of his thrusts, for which you are grateful.

“Do that again, Obi-Wan,” Cody orders, tugging at your hair until only the head of his cock still sits between your lips and you’re looking up at him with wide eyes. He watches you languidly swirl your tongue around the tip as he continues. “I want to see the look on your face when he plays with your clit.”

Obi-Wan obliges—eagerly, if his hands latching onto and spreading your thighs further apart are any indication. His tongue flutters over the small bud, causing your mouth to fall open in a whine, your eyes going wide as his lips begin to suckle and he lets out a soft hum that makes your hips twitch.

Several things happen in quick succession.

Cody, taking advantage of your parted lips and opened mouth slowly guides you back down, giving you enough time to inhale through your nose in preparation. Obi-Wan, his hands digging into your thighs, sweeps his tongue over your clit one last time, relishing in the soft moan he pulls from you before gliding to your entrance, letting out his own pleased sound as he circles around your slit, gathering your arousal on his tongue before his eyes flutter and he presses it inside.

“Mmmm.” You’re unable to stop the moan that is pulled from your lips as you’re drawn closer towards Cody’s pelvis, your nose lightly pressing against the mound of soft hair you discover there. Obi-Wan’s tongue continues to explore, lightly curling within its confines until he’s brushing up against a spot that is completely maddening, causing you to arch your back and buck your hips against his face despite the grip he has on your thighs. Cody, watching the way your cheeks flush as he looks down at you, begins to retreat, only to watch with a pleasured intensity as in a slow, deep thrust he pushes back into your mouth again, the noise of satisfaction rumbling through him sending sparks straight between your legs.

And then, just when you think there’s nothing more they could do—when you are only able to focus on Cody’s hand in your hair, your jaw slack as he lets himself use your mouth for his pleasure, with Obi-Wan’s tongue pressing into you in slow, deep, and rhythmic strokes that have you actually mewling—there’s more.

Something happens that you can’t describe as a specific sensation as much as it is a feeling. It’s warm, pulsing in waves directed squarely at your clit that up until this moment has been dormant with neglect, now throbbing with a warm, molten heat that builds and builds and builds and—oh, fuck! Is he using the Force?

He gives a low sound that perhaps could be a chuckle as you feel his lips curl upwards against you in a smile as he continues to show you the skills of his tongue. It’s almost as if he can hear your thoughts even as the only things that fall from your lips are muffled, cut off whimpers. In response, as if to say, “Yes, darling, that’s exactly what I’m doing,” what feels like a ball of slow, building energy rolls across the nub, fluttering and growing until your clit is surrounded by his pulsing, heated desire.

You can’t help it. You can’t help the way Cody’s cock slips from your mouth and your head throws back and you’re whining, actually whining—not in the soft, needy way but in the high-pitched, desperate, in the throes of something you couldn’t stop even if you dug your heels into the ground and tried with all your might kind of way. It’s embarrassing the way he has so effortlessly, easily, and thoroughly made you come undone, not that you could remotely bring yourself to care as it hits you.

Down come your elbows, your head unable to remain balanced, falling with a soft sound against the mattress as your orgasm seems to wash through you like a wave, traveling through the tips of your tightly curled toes to your tensing and flexing thigh muscles beneath Obi-Wan’s fingers all the way up your back, arching and squirming, resulting in sounds that fall from your lips that you would not have predicted you were capable of making.

And then it fades, slow and gentle and leaving a flush, a tingling heat against your skin as you, almost by some invisible force, are guided to anchor yourself within your breath. Someone, without words, gently coaxing it to settle and slow as you look up, dimly aware of the sweat that’s gathered at the base of your scalp.

And then you realize that you’re looking up directly into the face of Cody, who, despite his cheeks being flushed from the talents of your mouth, appears perfectly calm, composed, and controlled with his hands laced behind his back and oh, the scar that curls around his eye only highlights the glimmer of his disappointment as he contemplatively looks down at you, his gaze heavy and considering. Before he even raises a displeased eyebrow, before he even speaks, you’re hit with the weight of having done something that you were explicitly told not to do.

“Hm,” he muses, reaching down and running his fingers through your hair in a surprisingly gentle stroke that ends in an even more surprisingly sharp tug as he commands your gaze skyward, causing a soft “mm” of pleasure-pain to fall from your parted lips. When he next speaks, his voice is too measured, too conversational, sending alarm bells streaking through your mind, one after the other like passing sirens on the street, making your heart pick up in speed with the euphoric, enticingly dangerous blend of wanting to bow your head in apologetic submission or cower away and flee from the ire of his disapproval.

“And here I was thinking you were sweet and obedient.”

And with those words, you come to the understanding that you are so irrevocably fucked, and despite the anxiety that twinges in your stomach that always accompanies a misstep, having to bite down on your instinctive guilt of disappointing others, you find, for perhaps the first time, that you couldn’t be more delighted.

#Cody x obi wan x reader #commander cody x reader #cody x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #codywan x reader #codywan #Star Wars fanfiction #the clone wars fanfiction #star wars #fanfiction #star wars smut #The clone wars #tcw #sw tcw #sw tcw fanfic #Ireadwithmyears masterlist #Cody x obi wan Kenobi x reader #Ireadwithmyears fics

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flowerandblood · 10 months ago

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There were a lot of new people here after the trailers came out, so I want to outline the rules on this blog, which I will then add to my masterlist, because once in a while people are surprised when they get here and send me the same questions that I have to answer several times.

The Team Black or Team Green conflict doesn't matter to me. I don't care who is what character, who is better and who is worse. I have blocked all tags with #anti and will be blocking more because I don't want to delve into that part of the fandom. I will be posting neutral, nice aesthetic content here regarding both The Black's and The Green's.

I'm not commenting on or criticising any writing style, character selection, tropes or ships. I don't write fanfic for Alysmond or Lucemond because I just don't feel it. I'm against complaining about the content that other creators make because I think it's disrespectful. I don't care if someone writes x reader, x original character, x female (like me) stories.

While we're on the subject. My characters are neither reader nor original character, just something in between. I've written more about that here. Generally speaking, my characters never have a name nor do I give them the faces of any actors, I do however sometimes describe details of their appearance such as silhouette, hair colour and length, eyes, skin colour, etc.

I don't intend to talk on this blog about the actors' private lives, speculations or rumours about them. I respect their private lives and prefer to focus on the characters they portray − apart from, of course, rejoicing when they give great interviews or just look gorgeous as always. Supporting, not judging, and certainly not creating conspiracy theories.

I've learned after a year's experience not to get into hateful, debilitating, pathetic discussions here. I use the 'block' button like a ping-pong ball and bang it left and right. Surprisingly, since I've been doing this, there's been complete peace on my blog. No regrets.

#blog rules

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chaos-husband · 1 year ago

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Rules, Whitelist, and Blacklist

Rules:

● I accept requests, but please do not demand for them to be done. Editing is a hobby for me and I have other obligations in my real life. I will do them when I am able to.

○ I support the critical consumption of media, but I do not tolerate pro-shippers or anything similar (pro-fic, anti-anti, com-ship, etc.) In that vein, I do allow requests for media deemed "problematic" as long as they are not listed on my blacklist.

● I will never allow requests that involve pedophilia, incest, zoophilia, or any form of bigotry or antisemitism!

○ Please read the info on each edit for crediting me. Most of my edits do not require credit, but there are exceptions while I must be credited.

● Do not use my work for commercial purposes, including NFTs. You are also not allowed to use my edits for roleplay, on or off Tumblr. This is a very personal thing for me, so please respect my wishes on the matter.

○ Do not repost my edits without my permission and never claim my work as your own. You're free to use my edits as page deco or materials for your own edits, but please do not claim everything as yours. - That said, if you are using my work for HTML or Markdown based websites then please use my posts as the image source or upload it to a PRIVATE image hosting source. Discord is no longer a viable host as of 2023.

● Anon is always turned on and you are allowed to claim an emoji, combination of emojis, or label/title for yourself. I will keep a list and tag.

Blacklist:

○ This is NOT a trigger list. Its is just for personal comfort.

Fandoms/Sources

Any YouTuber-specific fandom

MCYT

Countryhumans

Hetalia

Yandere Simulator

Your Boyfriend (Game)

Harry Potter

Themes/Aesthetics

Anything that focuses on eyes (more than 2, eye horror, realistic eyes, etc.)

Medical themes (plague doctors excluded)

Bugs and spiders (Muffet from Undertale excluded)

Real people (actors included)

Whitelist:

● This list is long, but not full. There are some sources I no longer interact with, but am still willing to edit for (E.G. South Park). The list is also organized in alphabetical order.

○ I'm not opposed to spoilers for any sources I haven't caught up on yet! Feel free to spoil me on anything lol.

● I'm open to editing anything as long as it's not on my blacklist.

○ Anything in bold is a hyperfixation or special interest of mine!

AKIRA (Movie only)

The Amazing Digital Circus

BanG Dream: Girls Band Party

Chainsaw Man (Up-to-date on the manga!)

D4DJ

Demon Slayer

Dragon Ball (Classic, Z, Super, and GT)

Dragon Quest (7, 9, and 11)

Elder Scrolls (Oblivion, Skyrim, and Online)

Fallout (New Vegas and 4)

Final Fantasy (10 and 14)

Genshin Impact (Not an active player since 2.1)

Gorillaz

Guilty Gear

The Legend of Zelda (Full series, but esp. Twilight Princess)

Muramasa: The Demon Blade

Murder Drones

My Hero Academia (First season only)

My Little Pony (Gen 1, 3, and 4)

MySims (Classic Wii, Kingdom Wii + DS, Agents Wii)

Naruto (No Boruto)

Ninjago

Okami + Okamiden

Persona (1-5 and spinoffs, but esp. 3 and 4)

Pokémon (Gen 1-8)

Project SEKAI (+ Vocaloid)

Shin Megami Tensei (3-5)

Sonic the Hedgehog

South Park

Splatoon (1-3)

Stardew Valley

Static Shock (2000s cartoon)

Steven Universe (Show + movie, not Future)

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2012 and some 2003)

Total Drama (All seasons including 2023)

Undertale + Deltarune

Wings of Fire (Caught up to book 8)

Xenoblade Chronicles (1, 2, and X)

#not an edit #do not reblog

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ofavernus · 1 year ago

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I DID NOT FALL. I ROSE TO SHOULDER A COSMIC BURDEN.

ind. semi-selective, private rp blog for zariel of dungeons and dragons (as well as a few related characters, such as BG3's mizora) est. 8 / 21 / 2023, and written by fawkes ( he/they, 27 ). i’m mutuals-only, and low-activity. timezone is GMT-8. follows back from @voxdraconis.

rules and info below.

information.

this is a blog for antagonists, so it'll be relatively low-activity and will be, y'know, treated like an antagonist blog. this one isn't here to be friends. it might be here to turn you into a warlock. (:

zariel doesn't leave avernus much. she has a blood war to fight, after all. she speaks on the material plane mostly through servants or agents. i'm going to be including one sub-muse on this blog (mizora, wyll's patron cambion from BG3) as well as the following that i've used in my own d&d game:

sharptongue, a red-brown furred imp with the head of a bat, who acts as one of zariel's mouthpieces for when she needs to speak to warlocks or hunt down runaways directly. he has no character of his own, he's just for zariel to talk through, more or less.

dame surila, a tortoiseshell tabaxi paladin, dressed in the light leathers of a knight of Lathander and armed with two shortswords. she was a hellrider of the ancient past once. she's also more or less an empty husk (died, after pledging her swords eternally to zariel) and the archdevil puppets her body for when she needs a mouthpiece on the material plane that's less obviously infernal. dame surila looks like an adventurer until inspected with magic like a paladin's divine sense, which reads her as both fiend and undead.

rules.

not doing shipping on this one, though mizora may be down for shenanigans. would you, though? would you do that to wyll? you gonna bang his patron and then look him in the eye about it?

i encourage you to send me asks on this blog, it's the easiest way to interact with me. all my stuff over here (askmemes, open posts) are free game.

always feel free to ask me to tag something it if makes you uncomfortable or otherwise. i'll try to tag common content warnings as best I can, and i'd appreciate if my mutuals could do me the great service of tagging anything related to cancer, real world terminal illness or hospitals. (fantasy/fictional diseases and such are fine.) this blog won't have any full-on smut on it, though it may include mildly sexual content. it will, most likely, have canon-typical mature content around the same level as in the actual game. violence, darker themes, ect.

i have a full time job. i am a low-activity blog that may take a long while to reply (& an especially long time to answer asks). please bear with me, and always feel free to poke me and ask about a particular reply—i actually prefer if people let me know about threads they're particularly invested in. but also, know that i'm not ignoring people, i just have limited time. sometimes i will hyperfocus on particular threads and take longer to get to some than others. it's just how my brain works.

i don't care if you don't use formatting, all i ask is that you proofread your posts, and trim threads so that they don't get too overly long.

have fun & be yourself ect ect.

#pinned post.

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kkyujikoo · 3 years ago

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These are my... 2...? Maybe 50, cents about the whole "freejk" thing. I'm gonna be extremely petty and at some points a whole lot sarcastic and it's gonna be long but I had to say it. As soon as I get my computer I'm gonna make it under read more, but the app does whatever it wants, as we know.

Listen, this ain't my first fan rodeo, and not even the first fan rodeo where I've been directly or indirectly accused of being some sort of pervert or delulu. I've been in fandom spaces since I was a teen, I was shipping mlm couples when queerbaiting in TV shows was still something that was seen as the norm rather than some cheap disgusting trick. I was there when fanfic spaces saw "slash" fics as something "different" and to be tagged with a more mature rating even when they just looked at each other.

I was in BBC's Sherlock's fandom and I shipped Johnlock during the hiatus between S3 and S4, at this point I'm not even feeling it when people call me delulu or a weirdo.

So, yeah, take this with a grain of salt: as a person who has seen thousands of times fandom drama unfolding and has lived too much of it... This whole situation is so ridiculous it makes me laugh. Like, yeah, it's maddening how people will blame anyone and everyone because they don't even see their own bias and homophobia, granted, but like... It also makes me laugh for the sheer dumbassery of the reasoning behind it all?

Like... Y'all are getting mad and for what? Because it sure as hell isn't the invasion of privacy, since y'all are watching the same content we're all watching and you're paying to see it the same way everyone else is. If you don't want to "invade their privacy", you should just... Stop watching content that isn't their music videos, RUN episodes or interviews. Memories and any kind of dvd/video that shows what they're doing behind the scenes shouldn't be part of their job as musicians, and therefore we're intruding in their privacy... Or aren't we?

Or maybe it's more nuanced than that: maybe the content they release on dvd/on their official channels is part of their job as entertainers, and it's been approved, and it's a small window THEY are granting us.

You know what's the REAL invasion of privacy and what REALLY invalidates someone autonomy? When you, who maybe aren't even paying to see that content (which is something I understand, like, dude, I'm not covered in money either), DEMAND what kind of behind the scenes content you want when I swear ABSOLUTELY NO ONE has asked you. Once again: you don't like it? You think it's some huge invasion of privacy? Don't buy it. Don't interact with it. Convince your friends to do the same. For all I care, just go and petition to boycott this kind of content. I know you won't do it, because... That's the thing, isn't it? It's not the invasion of privacy that bothers these people.

Y'all aren't mad because we get into their business or else you would have gotten real mad when we were privy to REAL private moments like people crying their hearts out.

No, no. Y'all are mad because it's "shipping content" and "fanservice" which apparently bothers you because it lacks authenticity.

Pick a side, lovelies: either you DON'T want to invade their privacy, and thus all the content they release should be focused on what fans want to see, or you WANT to know how they interact TRULY in private.

And here's the catch: "shipping content" can be anything. Shipping existed WAAAAAYYY before the word for it was invented, same way with fanfictions. Shipping means, literally, "seeing two (or more) people interact and thinking they would make a good romantic pair". That's it. That's quite literally it. Everything else is just some nuance of the concept of shipping, but at its core, it's nearly impossible to ban all shipping content when it's a group of seven people, because they should for real go in social distancing mode to do so. Most people who have parasocial relationships tend to have "ships" whether they know it or not, because we've all, at least once, looked at a dynamic from the outside and thought "oh man they look cute together". So, even if, o dear ones, your wishes were granted... What the hell do you mean by "shipping" content? Should they just film solo clips, avoiding talking about the other members? But wouldn't that be fanservice, since it's focused on pleasing the fans? (Which, ultimately, is what fanservice MEANS, and I hate to break it to y'all but the whole concept behind entertainment and thus all the content BTS releases it's... For the fans. Like, they're not going out of their way to just meet our expectations but they're certainly doing fanservice by the mere act of releasing bonus content.)

But it's not even quite that, is it? Because no one bats an eye if it's Tae kissing Nj's cheek. I've seen no hashtag against everyone - and I mean literally every one of them - wolf whistling at Nj. It's okay to show intimacy... Because they're bandmates and it's okay to be close to someone who you see basically 24/7, I hear you. And it's also okay when people see that and gush over that closeness, because it's such a nice thing to see.

Soooooo... We've got to free JK from whom exactly? From what?

Are y'all mad cause people pointed out there's very little way a bruise that stayed for a whole ass night could be a quick bite? Because that doesn't harm jk, at most makes fun of him and jimin and their poor excuses (seriously, guys, next time consider using mosquitoes or "I was doing stuff". It'll be equally embarrassing but at least the meme will be funny), and it's literally... A fair observation. Like. It's a hickey, people are gonna make jokes about seeing a hickey and poor excuses of covering it up in the exact same way they're gonna make jokes over jimin falling out of chairs. And yeah, a hickey is AT LEAST something that happens in a sensual context. Like, I could understand "people who are extremely familiar with each other will have different body language/touch in areas where usually you wouldn't see friends touching each other", but that's not. Not a hand on the thigh. It's a hickey on the neck. I don't even know a more stereotypical placing for a hickey. But once again, are y'all mad because someone is pointing it out? Because that's not being delulu or even being a shipper, really, it's just commenting on something that was approved to be shown and discussed in something that was released BY THEM.

Are y'all mad at hybe for showing something that literally fell onto their hands? Cause like, unless someone (I'm counting on Jimin, since as we know Jungkook was busy spinning him round and round and had both his hands busy) called at hybe headquarters to say "yo bang pd substitute, is it okay if I give my friend jk here a hickey? Cause he's being really annoying rn and he has to pay", I highly doubt anyone expected Jungkook to come to rehearsal all neatly marked up. Or idk, maybe someone at hybe asked them "we need Jungkook to come in with a hickey but refuse to say it's a hickey, so that fans will feel reeeeally served." That sounds perfectly plausible too. Or a good marketing strategy.

Now, if you're a big company and your objective is to have some footage of the rehearsals for a concert, and the fandom is too good at noticing stuff for their own good, and one of your artists comes in with a very visible mark, and he and his bff bropal4lyfe come n with a story about how they were playing and a bite happened, you've got three choices: 1. Cut the artist out of aaaaalll the footage. Someone would have noticed the "bite mark" anyway, you best believe that. If you don't want anyone to notice it, you gotta cut him in most of the footage where it's visible. 2. Keep the hickey, discard the explanations. You could do that, but also it would feel a lot more unfaithful to everyone involved. Also they clearly worked their ass off to invent an explanation, come on! They truly tried to do their best inventing something that was not "it's a mosquito bite", they should get some credit! 3. Keep the bite, keep the explanation.

Notice how none of these solutions include the biting never happening because... They couldn't prevent it? The only thing they have any control over is how they're framing each "accident". And that's not an easy job.

I applaud you, people on the editing team.

So... On whom should we cast the blame now? Ah, yes, I think it's finally time for the ultimate scapegoat of this fandom: Jimin. Which is funny, cause... You know... If this were really about privacy, or being "victims" of shipping... This should be about freeing him too, you know? But obviously Jimin does it for attention, while Jungkook, poor angel that he is, doesn't even know what shipping is.

Furthermore, don't we all know how much Jimin imposes himself in Jungkook's life? To the point where he, multimillionaire man feels compelled to share a car with Jimin even if they're both late in the process. And can't you see how uncomfortable he is, draping himself over Jimin, making Jimin drap himself over him?

Oh lordy, truly such an awful eight years Jungkook spent, choosing to have vacations with someone who made him uncomfortable, spending free time with him, even having to suck his ear in public to the point you can see his saliva just because Jimin was sad :( truly an all-around bad time for Jungkook, as evidenced by alllll those times when he said Jimin was pretty, cute, and all-around knowing every little thing about Jimin. I absolutely concur, the dude would be so much more happy if jimin was not in his life.

Did that sound weird and absolutely ridiculous and a really absurd joke? Because that's what y'all sound like to me. Like. Jungkook is out there living his best life, getting hickeys and showered in affection and y'all paint him as a fucking martyr??? I'm sure he's really truly desperate that Jimin holds him in such high regards 😭😭😭 I can see him suffering whenever he starts doing his own serendipity rendition 😭😭 and when he claimed you are me, I am you as his and Jimin's only 😭😭😭 I cannot believe this poor baby 😭😭😭

I've reached a point where every time I hear this stuff I laugh because the levels of twisting reality when it comes to jikook are extraordinary, Jungkook will have a literally blissed out face and people will cry in outrage.

But coming back to my point: let's pretend you're not mad at Jimin and the possibility that jikook are dating: are y'all mad... At the hickey? Because at this point it seems like the only feasible solution. And if you are, do not worry: I'm sure Jungkook's skin was throughly healed by his boo. A kiss soothes even the worst pain, doesn't it?

#jikook #that freejk dumbassery

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yoditorian · 4 years ago

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a law divine - 1

soulmate au!ezra/reader

this is solely the fault of one single anon who called out something i put in the tags and now it’s a whole universe but you know what?? it’s the love of my life. anon i hope u see this 💛 i also just want to say i know there isn’t A Lot of soulmate talk in this one but it’s important for the narrative okay bear with me

playlist // series masterlist // main masterlist

word count: 7.2k (a Big Boy)

warnings: swearing, my usual allusions to smut bc we keep things neutral in this house, brief food/alcohol mentions, 18+ please no babies

It might be the ugliest ship you’ve ever seen.

Not that you’re really one to judge, the one you charter out when you’re running point on a job is a mismatched patchwork of rusty panels held together with electrical tape and hope. If there’s the slightest possibility you might be a teeny tiny bit disappointed in it, it’s only because agency jobs are usually a little cushier. A little safer for once. You could do with a bit safer.

Your family might prefer a lot safer, but you’d sooner take your chances in open space without a suit than take a job working scrapyards. At least risking your life on digs gets a decent payout.

“You the danger mouse?”

It’s not an accent you hear often on the Pug, the majority of the station’s population is human, but you turn with a smile to meet the bright purple eyes of the Thanne. Armour-strong scales and sharp teeth, but he seems kind and mild mannered despite his clear predatory biology. You nod as you readjust the pack on your shoulders.

“I’m Iras.” He holds his hand out to you. A distinctly human gesture made a little awkward by the sharp edged scales and extra fingers, but you shake it nonetheless. He’s your captain for this job after all. You wonder where a Thanne became so well versed in human custom, the species as a whole tend to keep to themselves instead of branching out into the universe like so many others, until his crew members appear on the boarding ramp.

Iras gestures to each of them in turn. Summer, a blonde woman with dark skin and a kind smile, and Milo, an older man with a swirling tattoo above his left eyebrow that matches the navy blue of his eyes.

“Is it just us?” You ask. You could have sworn there was a fifth name on the manifest you’d been forwarded, but teams are always subject to change. You just hope you’ll have your own room.

“Ezra always leaves things down to the wire, he’ll show up right before we’re due to push out.” Summer laughs fondly, throwing an arm around your shoulders like she’s known you her whole life. You’re usually a little wary with brand new teams but the way she’s already chatting away makes you feel at home. The last agency job you were sent on got dicey, fast, somehow you’re sure the same won’t happen with this lot.

“There he is.” Milo leans out of the ship to point out into the docks.

You turn to see a man sauntering through the throngs of harvesters towards the ship, and it’s odd. The rest of the crowd seems to melt away as he closes the distance, even the weight of Summer’s arm on your shoulders feels not quite there. You take the moment to study him. He looks all business with his dark hair and his charcoal grey shirt and the neat pack slung over his shoulder, but his pants and boots have seen better days and the streak of blonde at his temple makes you smile. It’s nice to finally be with a crew without a single stuffy addition.

“It’s not often I get to congregate with like-minded souls.” He grins when he’s in earshot, a flash of something feline in his eyes. You don’t want to admit that you like it.

“Like-minded?” You tilt your head at him as you follow Summer up the ramp and into the ship. Ezra slips in behind you just as it starts to raise. Just like the others said.

“We’ve all got the same death wish, Sunspot.”

The launch, at least, is smooth despite the beaten up ship and it’s only about twenty minutes before you’re far enough from the Pug to punch a lane to the next system over. At least it isn’t far, there’s only a day between now and making planetfall. Somehow, you’re not surprised to find that it’s more of a barracks and bunk beds situation rather than each having a private quarters. Last time you were hired by the agency, you definitely got your own room. But it gives you a chance to chat with the others as you unpack.

Milo explains the air isn’t breathable, so he’ll need to double check to make sure everyone’s filters are running at capacity. But he reassures you that it’s a comfortable temperature, so it’s good to know you won’t be sweltering in your suits or freezing your asses off.

You pick the bed on the wall beside the door, taking out a few essentials from your pack and tucking the rest safely away in the storage compartment. Just as he did back at the docks, Ezra is the last to find his way to the room. He settles his things on the bunk opposite yours because the universe has it out for you, apparently.

“Did I hear one of them call you the danger mouse?”

You struggle not to roll your eyes at the nickname awarded to anyone stupid enough to do your job, although admittedly he doesn’t sound like he knows why. You offer him your name instead and pretend the way he rolls it around in his mouth doesn’t send a shock right down to your bones. You’re not in the habit of sleeping with colleagues, not until the job’s over at least. But you’d be lying if you said you’re not tempted.

“They call me in when a site’s unstable but too profitable to close.” You answer, tugging your sleeves up as the climate control settles to a comfortable temperature.

Ezra raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue, and you pull off your gloves. They land on your thin mattress as you hold your hands out between you. Not even the slightest twitch.

“Steadiest hands on the Pug.”

“So they are.” There’s a challenge in his voice that threatens to send a shiver up your spine. It’s clear he doesn’t doubt your skill in the field, but the return of that glint in his eye from the docks has you wondering exactly what else he’s thinking about as he studies your hands. It’s not hard to work out.

It’s been so long since you had to travel out of the system, you forgot how much inter-system lanes can fuck with the human brain. You’re half asleep for the thirty minutes you spend sorting your things for the morning, barely enough energy to change into the sweatpants and ratty t-shirt you call pyjamas, before you crawl into bed and settle down almost immediately.

Only you don’t get to sleep for as long as you’d like. The rest of the crew seem to have filtered in after you, the shift of sheets and snores float through the dimmed room. Except, it’s not just that. There’s shuffling and bed creaking from further down the line of bunks. A hushed giggle sounds in the silence and-

Oh god. Oh no.

They’re not. They can’t be, they- they are.

You’re very awake all of a sudden, eyes wide as you keep them firmly on the ceiling and wishing as hard as you can for an alarm to start beeping or something. Anything to get whoever’s banging Summer to stop. A deep voice hushes her when she laughs again. Iras. Knowing is somehow worse. The mechanics- you don’t even want to think about it.

You turn onto your side slowly, but loud enough to hint that maybe they should find somewhere else for their escapades, and fold your pillow around your head as a kind of makeshift set of earmuffs. Whether they’ve quieted down or it muffles the noise, you’re not sure, but it seems to have worked enough. You catch Ezra’s eye in the almost-darkness, much in the same position as he holds his pillow over his own ears.

It’s embarrassing for the both of you, even as you share a conspiratorial look. But somehow, it’s less awkward to have to hear Iras and Summer going at it when you know he’s awake. He winces when a particularly loud squeak echoes through the room, and it takes everything in you not to bust out laughing. You fall asleep again eventually, making faces at Ezra in the dark until neither of you can keep your eyes open anymore.

You’re surprisingly well rested come the morning, when the whole ship jolts as it punches into the system and you’re almost thrown out of bed. So much so that it’s easy to forget that you woke up at all until you shuffle into the main living compartment of the ship. One of the crates by the wall has been cracked open, Milo hands out granola bars for breakfast.

Summer and Iras are sitting in the same chair, feeding each other, and it might be cute if you’d been awake longer and hadn’t been woken up by their activities in the middle of the night. You slump into a free chair, face twisted in disgust for a moment. You’re pretty sure nobody else sees until Ezra laughs and drops into the seat beside you. They’re nice people, from how they took you as a friend immediately, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s just a bit much for your perpetually single heart to take.

“It’s a week-long job, they can’t take a break?” You watch as they finally pry themselves apart to start, you know, actually working. But not without a genuinely gross kiss that definitely toes the line of public decency. Suddenly the half-eaten bar in your hand isn’t all that appealing anymore.

“Soulmates take no breaks, Sunspot. I’m sure yours would be hard pressed to be anywhere but in bed with you whenever they get the chance.” Ezra winks and it takes you a moment to remember where you are. A glance at the pair makes your new knowledge obvious, the way they seem to be touching, even now, on opposite sides of the room.

“I’m not sure I believe in all that red string stuff.”

Once the ship is safely landed a short walk from the site, the days you spend digging pass with ease. The deposit is a decent size, it takes all five of you to cover it completely, and the payout should be enough to keep you all comfortable for a little while even with the agency’s cut. The crew around you fill the time enough that you barely notice the week coming to a close.

Summer sings in the mornings as she cleans her equipment and readies her pack for the day. Miles talks gently to the cells as though they can hear him, shushing them any time he worries a gem might corrupt. Iras seems to have a secret superpower when it comes to the ration packs, they always taste better when he’s the one on lunch duty. And Ezra spends the afternoons regaling you all with tales of ancient beasts, laying eggs that fossilise into the very gems you’re harvesting. Although you’re not sure how true they are.

You almost get through the whole dig without a hitch. Almost. But aurelac is a tricky thing, even a change in the wind can turn a site for the worst. You’re all sitting around at lunch when it happens. The telltale smoke wafts up into the air for no visible reason at all and although you’ve collected enough to cover the quota, you’d still rather not lose viable gems.

“Get to what you came here for.” Iras gestures in your direction and you dive into the pit head first.

You’re not even sure you stop to think as you follow the harvesting steps at lightning speed, salvaging half the corrupted cells before someone tugs you out by the collar of your suit. The rest of the site starts to smoke the moment you’re out of range, spitting and hissing and rendering the rest of the gems worthless.

“Danger mouse indeed.” Ezra chuckles over the comm system, hand still fisted in the fabric of your suit. For once, the nickname makes you smile.

While you all go your separate ways after the ship has docked back on the Pug, Summer makes you all promise to meet later at a club you’ve only heard of in your friends’ messy night out stories. Still, you pinky swear when she holds her hand out to you and try to remember if you have a single item in your wardrobe that’ll pass as club attire. Or at least something that isn’t so worn there are holes in it.

Even if it’s a song he knows, there’s no chance that Ezra could recognise it with the volume cranked so high through the cheap speaker that everything but the beat is distorted. Still, it doesn’t stop people from dancing.

He’s a little late, as usual, but he doesn’t need to worry as Iras appears behind him and claps a hand on his shoulder, pointing to a booth across the room where Milo is looking increasingly uncomfortable.

It doesn’t take long for Ezra to spot you and Summer in the middle of the dance floor, as he follows Iras around the edge of the space to the booth Milo’s claimed. You’re both more jumping than dancing, yelling the unintelligible lyrics of the song into each other's faces. He can’t hear your breathless laughter as Summer spins you in a circle, smile wide and bright, but he can feel it in his ribs. The drums of the song kick in at the same time the swirling lights of the club light you up like some kind of celestial being, just as you catch his eye through the crowd. And everyone else disappears. The rest of the world, rest of the universe, fades into the background. Just like they did the first time he saw you, glaring suspiciously at the ship on the docks.

Summer’s dragging you back to the table when the song comes to a close, the both of you out of breath and laughing, and Ezra has to try desperately to remember how to speak when he watches a little bead of sweat slide down the side of your neck. And stop himself from just licking a line straight up it. His silent suffering only increases when Milo holds out a shot of the most potent alcohol the Pug has to offer and you down it without so much as a flinch, winking at him when you return the glass to the table for good measure.

Milo calls it a night only an hour later, clearly only having braved the crowds of the club to celebrate the job. Summer and Iras are tangled in each other on the dancefloor, or the booth, as they keep the shots coming. You, at least, decide to keep your wits about you, declining every drink after the one Milo had handed you. Nobody’s going to fuck with a Thanne, even in as seedy a club as this, so you don’t worry about Summer as she gets sloppier and sloppier. But there’s no spiky non-human boyfriend looking out for you down here, it’s just you and the knife you keep at your hip.

You pull yourself from the dance floor, eyes tracking the room for the missing member of your party, until you feel a set of eyes on you from above. Ezra’s leaning on the bannister of the stairs, his unflinching gaze set solely on you. And you can’t help but smile. You follow him up to the mezzanine without hesitation when he glances upwards and back to you. The buzz of the shot has mostly faded from your veins, replaced by something much more dangerous by the way he’s looking at you. The way he’s looked at you since you met him.

It’s not hard to spot your friends from up here, leaning over the barrier with Ezra to people watch. He crafts stories about every stranger who catches his eye. The man hunched over the bar in a beaten up jacket, the waitress who fiddles with her necklace any time her hands aren’t occupied, the pair of lovers tucked away in the dark corner on the other side of the mezzanine. You find yourself sliding closer to him the more he talks, wrapped up in the warmth of his voice even in the rundown club. Your shoulder knocks into his as you mindlessly bop to the music and listen to his made up stories. Utterly enchanted. It’s hard to remember a time when you felt this way with anybody, if you ever did at all. To tell the truth, it’s hard to remember anyone before Ezra. And neither of you have even made a move yet.

He's got his arms braced on the barrier, and you find yourself lifting the one closest to you so you can slip in between them. Surrounded on all sides and you couldn’t feel more comfortable. To his credit, he doesn’t falter in his vivid storytelling about the group now settled in the booth your crew had claimed earlier, not even a stutter as you turn in his arms to face him. He’s decided they’re here to celebrate the beginning of a new job, rather than a successful harvest. His eyes flick to you for the barest moment, enough to notice yours are firmly focused on the way his lips move around his words, before searching the club below for another story. Another way to keep his mind and mouth occupied so he doesn’t accidentally admit all the sinful things he wants to do to you when you press your ass up against him like that.

“Ezra.”

He shouldn’t be able to hear you over the music, but you’re nose to nose and he’d be hard pressed to ignore the way you practically purr his name. He’s expecting you to make another flirty comment in that voice that sends his mind reeling into all manner of indecent places the same way you have been all night.

“Can I kiss you?”

He doesn’t expect you to just outright ask him.

“Yeah.” Yeah. Hell of a time for his eloquence to fail, not that it matters anyway. You’re on him the moment he stops speaking.

It’s like the sun explodes inside him, the way his stomach bottoms out the second your lips touch his. There’s nothing soft about it, not the way he might have imagined there would be. If he’d been so bold as to let himself imagine what kissing you might be like. You’re all warmth and heat and you still taste a little bit like the shot you’d thrown back earlier, and he finds himself falling. Not that Ezra minds, he hopes his parachute never opens if it means you’ll keep kissing him like this.

You let your fingers roam under his jacket, twist themselves in the thin fabric of his t-shirt, and you sigh into his mouth. God, you knew he’d be good at this. His hands leave a trail of starlight as they trace over your body, never quite choosing a place to rest. They start to settle on your shoulders, only to skim down your arms and squeeze harshly on your waist, to play along the strip of skin he finds just underneath the hem of your shirt, to grip harder than he might mean to onto the meat of your ass through your pants. You gasp, break the kiss for barely a moment, and stop his apology in its tracks.

He doesn’t protest when you walk him backwards, still groping at each other like it’s just the two of you in the whole club. Ezra only groans when his back hits the wall and you push even closer into him, as if there was even any space left for air between your bodies already. He’s not about to complain. He could kiss you for a thousand years and it still wouldn’t be enough. It’’ll never be enough, not for a soul as hungry as his. You pull back too soon, far too soon, and it takes a solid minute for his brain to kick in and break the vice grip he still has a little too low for the public eye.

Oh, that look on your face. He’s in trouble.

“Where are you off to?” Ezra asks, flushed and breathless, a hand stretched halfway out to where you’re backing toward the stairs.

“Home,” You say with a sly smile, “You coming?”

He can’t push off the wall fast enough.

You don’t live far from the club, a ten minute walk at the most, but Ezra manages to make it a solid twenty with the way he keeps pulling you to him. Not that you’re about to complain. You’ve been waiting a week to let him get his hands on you. At the press of his lips on your neck, the shudder it sends down your spine, you wonder if part of you has been waiting even longer than that.

You’re trying, desperately, to type in the keycode to your apartment. If Ezra could calm down with the grabby hands, you might have gotten it right straight away.

“No roommates?” He asks, kissing along your shoulder, and you take the temporary reprieve to kick your brain into gear and remember the fucking numbers.

“Hugo won’t be too upset if I make him sleep on the couch.”

The door slides back into the wall to reveal a dark apartment, a strip of light from the hall falling on a very orange cat. He stares at you for a second, clearly not particularly pleased that he’s been so rudely roused from a nap, before he settles back to sleep stretched out on the couch cushions. Hugo. Ezra is silently relieved that the roommate is just a cat, he’s not sure he’s got the self control to stay quiet tonight. Or to make sure you do.

You waste no time once you gesture for Ezra to walk in ahead of you, flicking the switch on the wall to slide the door shut and pulling him back to your lips. He doesn’t hesitate to crowd you up against the cold metal.

Although you could devour each other until the closest sun explodes and swallows the station whole, Ezra has to break away. To think, to breathe, to tease you a little about the moan he just swallowed from you. But you beat him to it.

“Gotta catch your breath?” The smile on your face threatens to make his knees buckle, and with you pressed up against the closed door the way you are? He might just let them.

“What do you want, Sunspot?”

You left a lamp on in your bedroom, the door cracked just enough to let a little filter through to the main living space. Still, he’s almost completely silhouetted against the warm yellow glow. As if he’s some kind of ethereal being, maybe he is.

“Make me see the stars.” You pull him in as close as you can and let your lips brush over his as you whisper. His next words make you shudder almost as much as the way he drags the zipper of your jacket down, slowly, tooth by tooth.

“As you wish.”

And boy, does he deliver.

You’re expecting things to feel more unfamiliar than they do, as you explore each other for the first time, but it’s like you’ve been here before. Once, twice, a hundred times before. Every move feels oddly choreographed. Ezra knows exactly how to take you apart and put you back together again, the way he pulls every twitch and moan out of you so expertly. You’re no different, as your fingers map the plains of his chest like it’s muscle memory.

You shake it off, put the thoughts to the back of your mind. You’ve been around the block a little in your time on the Pug, it only makes sense that he has the same kind of experience. But shared experience or not, you can’t deny how much having him so close feels like a homecoming of sorts.

It’s the best sleep of your whole fucking life and, honestly, you’re not that surprised. Ezra makes a damn good pillow. Even if you both wake hours later into the day cycle than either of you normally would. Even if he’s more of a morning person than you are. It’s kind of nice, to sit still snuggled in your pile of blankets and watch him potter around your apartment as Hugo winds around his ankles like he’s been there for years.

Your fridge, however, is heartbreakingly empty and renders his offer of making breakfast pointless. Instead, he pulls his shirt on and offers to take you to the best little diner he knows, tucked away in the heart of the marketplace. It’s a hard offer to turn down.

“What kind of gentleman would I be to have so much income at my disposal and not treat such a beauty as yourself to a good meal?” He winks as he flashes his credit chit at you as if you didn’t scan in for your paychecks at the same time. You laugh as you empty a food pouch into Hugo’s bowl, and tell him he better show you all the good breakfast spots. You shrug off his raised eyebrow and mutters of a ‘next time’. As if he didn’t already know.

Still, Ezra takes you by the hand the moment your apartment door secures itself shut behind you, leading you through the hall and out into the street, and you’ve never felt more wanted.

It’s like everything’s brighter, walking leisurely through the bustling market stalls with Ezra. The smells are stronger as spices in the air cling to your nose, the cacophony of vendors calling out almost sounds like music, and you start to laugh. Hand in his, in the middle of the maze of stalls full of food and tools and trinkets. As if it’s just the two of you in the whole universe.

At least Ezra doesn’t look back at you like you’re crazy. He smiles too, just as big, and you feel bathed in warmth the same as when the sun comes out planetside.

You’re both still grinning when he leads you deeper through the market, down an alley and up a flight of stairs to an unassuming door.

“Is this where you murder me?” You joke just as the door opens to reveal a short older woman with an eyepatch, who pulls Ezra down into a tight hug as soon as he’s in arms reach. He introduces her as Merse, the woman who’s run the best diner no one’s ever heard of on the whole station. She slaps his arm for his cheek, but her grin grows twice as wide when she spots your intertwined hands.

Ezra pulls you through the doorway after him as he follows Merse, chatting about how she always keeps the best table open just in case he brings a friend and you try not to smile too wide when she wiggles her eyebrows at you. He says something to you, but you’re too distracted by the view from the big windows.

The far wall is completely glass, overlooking the main docks, lined with booths. A small family sits in one of them, their two children standing up on the seats to watch the ships come and go. You’ve never seen it from this angle before, always down in the masses and scanning the boards for new jobs. It’s kind of beautiful. In a rusty, patchwork sort of way.

Merse points you towards one of the booths with a promise that she’ll bring you the best breakfast you’ll ever have, something tells you she’s not lying.

It’s not long after you slide into the booth that she comes marching out of the kitchen with two plates, wafting steam that makes your mouth water and your stomach rumble. Rice and vegetables and eggs and all sorts of things you’ve never even seen pile high, and you’d worry you wouldn’t be able to finish it all if you weren’t so hungry.

“You know I won’t break, right?” You push your fork around in the remaining rice on your plate as you watch Ezra absorb your words. He thinks about it for a long moment, dark eyes over you before settling on your own.

“What’s this about?” He knows, you know he knows. More importantly, you know he’s going to make you say it. In the middle of the day cycle, in this family friendly diner.

“Just,” You exhale sharply, “Making sure you’re aware.” Your body floods with a shyness that’s alien compared to the confidence you had last night and suddenly, your breakfast is the most interesting thing on the Pug. You can practically feel him smiling at you, but you don’t dare look up to meet it.

He was right though, the food really is some of the best you’ve ever had.

It’s not until you’ve wandered back through the market, still hand in hand, and found your way back to your apartment that Ezra decides to bring it up. He may have been more than a little distracted last night, but he’s sure he spotted a set of old books sitting on a shelf above your couch. You freeze, ready to go on the defensive about how ink and paper will never be obsolete, until you realise he’s genuinely interested. He’s not judging you by any means. Something about the curiosity shining in his eyes makes your heart flutter more than you care to admit.

He could watch you talk about your books all day, every day, for the rest of his life. How your eyes lit up when you recognised his interest, a paperback lover himself. You can’t seem to stop yourself as you dive into the intricate details of your favourite classics, two or three hundred year old texts that make you feel like you’ve lived a thousand different lives at once. He wants so badly for you to keep talking but the more impassioned you become, the more he wants to kiss you.

You trail off at some point, he loses track when you climb into his lap to point out notes you’ve made in margins and the books lie scattered on the couch beside you as you kiss him until neither of you can breathe. You’re still a little achy from last night, deep in your bones, and you hiss when his teeth scrape across your shoulder.

“Won’t break, is that right?” Ezra chuckles darkly and nips at your jaw, “Can I try?”

“Please.”

You wake at the creak of your bedroom door, sometime in the early hours. Hugo noses his way through the narrow gap and hops up onto the bed, curling up on the unclaimed pillow by your head. Ezra sleeps deeply, face buried in your neck, and you let the warmth of him wash over you. It ebbs and flows like a tide, that familiarity. The undeniable fact that something about this just feels right. You’ve known this man a week and yet you’re here wondering, as he rests in your arms, if he might want more than just this with you.

Oh, but you are so afraid. Afraid to put a name to anything about him because what then? Will he tell you that you’re simply a placeholder in his life for something better, or that his heart might bleed through his skin when you’re apart? You’re not sure which is worse. Not that it matters, there is no word in any language that would be able to explain exactly how you feel about the man asleep in your arms. It’s enough, you think, to have him with you at all. In any capacity. Whatever pieces of his soul he bares as your breathing evens and his mind wanders. That is enough, and you will protect it with your life.

You have to part ways at some point, of course. Another week of rolling around in your bed sheets together, on the couch, on your pitiful kitchen counter, up against the wall, and Ezra gets a call from the agency. It’s a last minute job, the crew only need an extra set of hands to fit the safety standards, but it’s several systems out from the Pug. It’ll take him away for at least a month. You trail after him at the docks, with promises of messages in his absence and all manner of unsavoury activities on his return. It’s with a deep kiss and a wolf whistle from a couple of dock workers on their break, that you wish him luck. And ask him to hurry back.

Summer’s message surprises you when it dings through on your tablet. Some gajillionaire on Dallore T53 has found an aurelac deposit on the grounds of his new estate and wants it gone. She’s preoccupied, already out on another dig with Iras and a new crew. But it’s the kindness of her even thinking to offer it to you that makes your heart swell. It’s been a while since you’ve had real, honest to god, friends.

You’d go in alone, normally, for something like this. But now? Now, you’re punching in Ezra’s comm pin before you can even really register what it is that you’re doing. He only got back a week ago, and you made him settle in back home before he could settle in yours. It’s not like the two of you would be doing any resting on his return to your apartment, exactly. The job was a pain, he’d told you, it ran months longer than anyone expected and you’re sure he’s still exhausted. He won’t agree, but you find you have to ask. Just in case.

“Sunspot?” He sounds happy, rested. And you breathe a sigh of relief, at least he can follow your orders when he wants to.

Hugo snakes around your ankles at the familiar voice, the same way he does any time the man himself walks through the door. If you didn’t know that the little orange devil’s alliances lie in who feeds him, you might think he loves him more than you.

You explain about the job, make sure to stress that he doesn’t have to come. That you don’t even really need to take it if he’d rather you stay close by. Okay, you don’t say that out loud, but the smile you hear in his words through the speaker makes it known that he’s heard you. Loud and clear.

It doesn’t matter in the end, not when he accepts before you even have a chance to give him any details. You don’t know why you were so worried he might say no.

“Any excuse to be warmed by your light, Sunspot.” Hugo brushes up against your leg at the same time Ezra’s voice practically drips through the speaker, smooth as honey.

“Is that a euphemism?”

“Do you want it to be?”

You choke on your breath and he laughs like you’ve told the funniest joke in the universe. He’ll kill you one of these days, you’re sure of it.

You charter the ship you usually take on private jobs, the space a little smaller than you remember with another person on board, but it’s not like either of you aren’t used to being in close quarters with each other by now. At least Ezra has the decency not to be mean about the beaten up exterior, she still flies true. He’d grinned at that, told you how a rough outside often means the opposite of the interior mechanics. The glint in his eye is enough to know he’s not just talking about the ship.

At least the planet is in the same system as the Pug, so there’s no need to punch through to a lane. You fly in silence for a few hours, the familiar feel of the controls under your fingers as you guide it through the sky. Ezra’s eyes remain firmly on you although you pretend as though you don’t notice, and it takes him a moment to come back to the present when you ask him to flick a few switches and prepare to enter the atmosphere.

The coordinates the client gave you to land are only a short walk from the house itself, a great stone castle-looking thing. It’s kind of ugly, the way the limestone juts out above the treeline. A big white block among the rich reds and oranges of the leaves. They grow that colour all year round, perpetually stuck in spring and summer. It must be nice to have the kind of money to find somewhere like that and decide you’ll build a house there. The air is breathable, and a quick look at the planet file proves it’s never too hot or too cold. A perfect place to build a house really. Although, if it were you making that kind of decision, you’d maybe go for a design that’s a little less cubist.

The deposit isn’t huge, but it’ll be a good payout nonetheless providing the cells are all in good nick. You and Ezra wade through swathes of long grass and wildflowers until you find a spot to set up camp. At least you’re not stuck in bulky suits and having to lug around your equipment.

You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect dig if you’d tried. Each of the cells sit far enough away from each other that even if one were to fail, it wouldn’t corrupt a whole mess of the others. Although with both of your talents, it doesn’t surprise you when you collect every last crystal without a single misstep.

You’d told Ezra the profit would be split down the middle, equal pay for equal work. But it doesn’t stop him from sliding an extra gem into your pack to cover the ship charter. After all, you’re the one who was offered the job in the first place. He’s just following his heart, the one that walks around outside of his body and throws itself into deposits mid-corruption.

You hold one of the little gems aloft in the sunlight and watch as it sparkles.

“I used to think it was weird how rabid people go for these. But the more I dig the more I get it, isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”

Ezra tilts his head like he’s studying the rock, but his dark eyes don’t leave yours.

“It’s a close second.”

Sap.

Night falls before either of you realise just how late it is, clearing out the last few cells of the deposit. It’s not worth going back to the Pug now, he reasons, and you find it hard to disagree. The ache of the few days you’ve spent digging has settled deep in your muscles, the thought of having to run through docking procedure when you’re so tired is enough to make you wince.

You let him take you for all you’re worth under the watchful eye of the heavens, and find there’s more stars behind your eyelids than you could ever hope to see in the skies. It’s all you can do to cry out the name of the only god to ever make you feel this holy. Ezra.

He wakes with the sun, the same way he always has on jobs, to find you curled so tightly against him that it bubbles up from his toes all the way to his throat and he finds his eyes threatening to spill over. Everything in the universe seems to slot so perfectly together when you’re like this. Ezra sighs, content to never let the moment end. You are so beautiful.

He shifts up onto his elbow a little, still cradling you against him, and lets his free hand trail softly over your face. Tracing the shell of your ear, the curve of your cheekbone, the bridge of your nose. The dawn’s sunlight breaks over the trees and filters through the fabric of the tent, bathing you in soft green light. He could stay here, holding you, until the universe implodes. Ezra doubts he’d notice such an insignificant thing with you beside him.

But end it must, and he rouses you gently with soft whispers and kisses against your temple. You stretch in his arms, not unlike Hugo, and sigh as your joints pop and settle. Packing up happens slowly, moving around each other so naturally it’s as though you’ve done it a thousand times before. Every time Ezra passes, you drop a kiss wherever you can reach. His shoulder, the arm of his jacket, that little patch on his jaw. He pretends not to blush when you catch his hand and carefully press your lips to the little tattoo between his thumb and index finger, you pretend not to notice when he does.

You’ll be the death of him, he’s sure of it. The way you keep watching him out of the corner of your eye, the way your smile is so bright when he catches you that he can barely stand to look at it. With the tent and equipment packed up, his fingers itch to thread through your own as you start the walk back to the ship, there’s not a word in the universe strong enough to describe just how much he hates that both his and your hands are too full.

It’s odd, thinking about it. How you met by pure chance, hired by the agency just because you were on the same station at the same time. Would he have ever met you if you’d chosen a different career path, if he had? Maybe somewhere, centuries before or after this moment, where you’re meeting again. Different lives, different times, spanning across all of existence. Maybe, right here and now, you’re starting to feel the way he does about you. Just a little. Maybe he’ll get up the courage to ask what you think, how far you want to take things. He’d give himself to you in a heartbeat, without question. In a way, he already has.

Ezra can’t stop himself.

“What do you make of the red string of fate?”

“All you’ve seen of the universe and you still believe in soulmates?”

“Maybe I’m more foolish that I made myself out to be.” He shrugs, trying not to let his eyes fall to the little finger of his right hand. Trying not to clench his fist to show you exactly how much your disbelief affects him down to his bones, as though his soul itself is frowning. You’re smiling. Uncharacteristically quiet, but you seem appropriately pleased by his answer and stray a little further out into the long grass.

Curiosity gets the better of you.

“Can you see yours?” You have to call out across the gap you’ve unintentionally created, yellow stalks swishing in the breeze between you, and for a moment you’re not sure he heard.

Ezra looks at his right hand, at the thin red string tied neatly at the knuckle of his little finger, and follows the line as it threads through the grass to where it’s knotted at your left.

“No.”

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@bee-dameron @keeper0fthestars @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean @gotta-have-faye @freeshavocadoooo @darnitdraco @greeneyedblondie44 @fire-is-catching-always

#oh god here it is i hope it lives up to what i've made it out to be #a law divine #prospect (2019)#ezra (prospect)#ezra x reader #ezra x you #liz does words #soulmate au #smut

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endlesspossibilitybang · 3 years ago

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Information and Guidelines

What is the Endless Possibility Bang?

It is a big bang event that will be running from November 2021 to May 2022! This event is based on the “What If..?” Marvel animated series.

A big bang is a collaborative event where teams of writers and artists create an illustrated fanfiction. Participants submit drafts of a fanwork and those works go through an anonymous claims process where they are claimed by a partner. Then the team completes their project together. This bang is mixed, meaning artists can submit art to be claimed by writers, and writers can submit stories to be claimed by artists.

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This is an all ages event. NSFW content is allowed as long as it is tagged, and there will be a separate claims sheet for NSFW submissions. Please note both participants in a pair must be 18+ for any NSFW content.

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Any characters that appear in What If…? are eligible for this event. All ships are allowed as long as at least one character appears in What If…?

What kind of content is not allowed?

This bang is focused on the MCU What If…? series. Crossovers within Marvel are allowed as long as you have at least one main character from MCU What If…?. Crossovers outside of Marvel are not allowed.

Content that AO3’s archive warnings apply to (e.g. dead dove, major character death, non-con etc.) are allowed as long as you tag appropriately.

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We ask that you keep your fanwork (artwork or story) out of the public eye (i.e. social media) until your posting dates. If you’d like to share your work we ask that you only do so in private groups.

Please be respectful to all participants in the event. No hating on others for what they create or ship.

Please be considerate of all participants, especially your bang partner. If you need more time to complete your part of the project, please inform as soon as you can. If you need to withdraw from the event, that’s okay, life happens. Please inform us and your bang partner as soon as possible if this happens.

Is there an event Discord?

Sure is! You can find it [here].

Who are the mods of this event?

The mods are @cutecumber-flower and @pocketcosmic.

#event info

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thefairyletters · 4 years ago

Note

Suigetsu x Sakura?? 👀

Ask me a ship:

SuiSaku

Who proposed the other first?

Suigetsu.

He often proposed to Sakura, flattered her and tagged along with her at any and every opportunity. It wasn't until he kissed her on one of their dates (not that Sakura knew they were dates) that Sakura finally realised he had meant everything he said. With Suigetsu, its hard to tell for her when he is serious and when he isn't. He is worse than Naruto in that respect. Of course she said yes to him.

So when they met up with others the next time, it was Sasuke who took one look at them and muttered something suspiciously about how they were so annoying.

Who kissed the other first?

Suigetsu.

Sakura wouldn't have realised he existed otherwise.

Who gives a good-morning kiss to other?

Sakura.

Unlike Suigetsu who works part-time at Tenten's weapon shop as a weapon engineer and isn't required to show up to work as early as 6 in the morning, Sakura has a hospital to manage and therefore is expected to leave late and arrive early. He is a heavy sleeper and she knows he wouldn't wake even if the village were to get attacked in the middle of the night. So if she gets emotional every morning because he looks like an angel in his sleep and showers him with light kisses because she feels like the luckiest women in the world, he doesn't know any of it. Not that she wants him to, it'd be embarrassing if he realises she cries every morning over him.

Who likes to play footsies?

Not footsies but...

Suigetsu loves biting her ankles, wrists, and anything of her thats fits his mouth. It might be a kiri thing, to mark people as their own, is what Sakura thinks about his fetish. Nevermind that Sakura loves being marked by him.

Of course she heals it all in the morning. Suigetsu doesn't mind because he gets to bite again. Well, when Sakura allows him.

Who is the dominant one?

Suigetsu.

For all his lean figure, he is stronger than everyone gives him credit for. You can't hold up a huge ass sword being weak. As much as Sakura enjoys pinning him, he almost always flip the roles without much effort. Not that she minds but she never goes down without a fight.

Simply put, their bed becomes their preferred battlefield.

Who likes to keep a picture of the other with them all the time?

None.

Both of them are more or less always in the village, and whenever Sakura is assigned a solo mission, Suigetsu accompanies her as her selfassigned partner. Kakashi lets them go together because if he doesn't grant permission Suigetsu would nag Sasuke (or Karin) who in turn would come straight to him and complain until he either send them away on a mission or permits them to kill him.

Sakura never minds him tagging along on her missions because she knows he knows she is capable of handling herself and only joins her because he will be bored without her. That and Karin had once specially, desperately, requested her to take all her belongings with her when she takes on a mission.

It is only after they have children that Suigetsu stops accompanying her on missions to take care of their baby girls.

Who likes to buy the other gifts?

No one.

To Suigetsu, material things hold little value. There's not much that excites him besides swords. When she once got him a stolen sword, which absolutely thrilled him, only to spend two hours listening to him rant and rave about the poor condition of the sword and how could they, to this little baby, really??? No worries I'll treat you like a princess Ah no, sorry love, but Sakura is my only queen. Regardless to say, she never got him another sword.

To Sakura, the first and last material gift he's ever got her is his own sword. He taught her Kenjutsu so she could take it with her on days he wouldn't be with her. He says she is a horrible swordsman, but they both know she has beaten him with his own sword more times than he is willing to admit. She rarely uses it on missions – always choosing to go for her versatile axe – but she always keeps it with her.

Who takes initiative in making physical contact?

Sakura.

She has always been a romantic. It took her an embarrassingly long time to figure out Suigetsu actually liked her. Holding back had been easy when they were friends, but when they moved in together as soon as they began to date, it became a challenge for Sakura to keep her distance. Their relationship isn't completely based on lust. As much as they love their bedroom moments, but they also equally enjoy the private moments where they do nothing but cuddle in their couch, take care of their weapons and watch reruns of their favourite movies.

She finds his eyes to be the most beautiful pair of eyes she's ever seen and hates it when his bangs hide them from her view. She always brushes his hair aside whenever she could so she could look into his eyes a little more. Suigetsu knows she has a thing for eyes, especially his eyes, so he grows out his bangs and never makes any effort to pin it away from his eyes.

Who plans their dates?

No one.

Their date nights is just them drinking and dancing their night away at their favourite bar every weekend.

Suigetsu is the only person she's come across who has almost beaten her at drinking. Turns out, Kiri men are exceptionally good at drinking. No wonder Tsunade and Mei had intense competition going on between them.

Who was shy on their first date?

Sakura.

When he kissed her to drill into her that he actually liked her, she was floored. He took her out to a bar he knows she has never been to before – mostly because it was on more expensive side of things and she was relatively an economical person. She was unsure if this was the kind of setting she preferred for a date and had felt incredibly guilty that she wasn't enjoying herself when he was doing it all to give her a good time. They had a drink respectively – Sakura chose the cheapest drink on the menu which still costed more than what she spends on her drinks per month.

Suigetsu could tell she was uncomfortable and was worried if she didn't enjoy his company. He decided to do what he knew would cheer her up as a last ditch effort to open her up to him. All their doubts evaporated when he somehow convinced dj to play her favourite slow songs so they could dance to it. He has asked her to dance with him many times but never on slow, romantic songs that she knew he didn't like. She thought she fell in love with him for first time by the time first song ended.

Soon Suigetsu realised it wasn't him she felt uncomfortable with but the concept of spending money on overpriced drinks. They went to their favourite udon place for dinner, just like they have many times before.

Who wakes up the other?

No one.

Before kids: Sakura would wake up before him (who is not at all a morning person) because of her work, leave him with romantic handwritten notes. Suigetsu, on the other hand, would drop by her office to eat dinner with her because he knows she wouldn't be home until very late.

After kids: they would kick each other awake, play scissors or bribe each other to take turns to do their jobs as parents in the dead of the night. More often than not, Sakura wins.

Who was shy in taking their relationship to next level?

Suigetsu.

For all he flirted with Sakura, he was not an expert in the intimacy department. When Sakura boldly guided his hands on her body where they have never travelled, Suigetsu was at loss. He hadn't stopped or retracted but his mind was miles away – calculating her every reaction to his every move. Sakura noticed he was stiff and his careful actions conveyed his inexperience, but she never teased him until they were ready to drop dead to the world.

After a third-round on their first night, both realised he was a quick learner.

Who hogs up the blankets in their sleep?

Suigetsu.

He hogs up not only blankets but also Sakura. His bloodline limit leaves him colder than most people. Sakura doesn't appreciate the chill that seeps into her bones when he snuggles up to her. If she, out of reflex, kicks him out of the bed, it is not on her.

Who is easy to get jealous?

Sakura.

Suigetsu is one of the friendliest men she's met. While she understands why he gets along with rookie 9 what with bright personalities like Naruto and Kiba in the bunch, but that doesn't explain how he manages to charm women so easily with only his grin.

Her only consolation is that his charming grin is always solely directed at her.

Who cooks in the house?

Sakura and Suigetsu hadn't known to cook anything beyond the basics required to make rice balls and grilled fish.

Until they took cooking lessons from Chouji when Sakura got pregnant. Turns out, to Sakura's dismay, Suigetsu is the better cook between them. Until she used the excuse to get him cook for them every day, much to his annoyance.

Who 'protects' and who 'nutures'?

Sakura protects.

Suigetsu nutures.

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tintinwrites · 5 years ago

Text

the stars were made for falling | Poe Dameron x Reader | Part Twelve

A/N: I’m sorry for writing mean things like this <3

Rating: M

Warning: Poe’s a jerk. Poe is kinda empty. Reader is depressed and has some suicidal thoughts. Lots of arguing here!

Word count: 2,058, apparently!!

Summary: Any interaction with Poe turns into an argument as he continues to seemingly hide behind a cruel personality.

Masterlist

GIF credit: sebastianstaan

Tags: @marvelous-revengers @the-lady-of-stars @jxhn-mxrphy @ella-solei @chloe-skywalker @itsamedeemoney @shakespeareanwannabe @mxrvel-fxnxtic

-----------------------------

You no longer spoke to Poe.

You didn’t really look at him.

You even refused to be in the same room as him if you didn’t have to be.

All you saw when you looked at him was the man who used you for stress relief and acted like there’d never been anything between you more than sex.

It was easy to leave most rooms he was in when you shut off part of your heart.

Without need to fret about his well being, you were lighter and freer in a way that you pretended didn’t make you empty.

The nightmares started now that you were alone in your quarters again, though, and instead of being in there, you were tinkering on secondhand ships you’d acquired and loading yourself up on the strongest caf that could be made — which was still mostly warm water.

You retrieved your third cup of caf and were returning to your base’s half-constructed ship maintenance when you heard tools clanging against metal.

Hadn’t you been alone when you’d been working on a dented, filthy X-wing?

Perhaps you’d dozed off for a second as you waited for your cup to fill, but you were pretty certain you didn’t fall asleep standing there long enough for it to be morning.

You followed the sound to an ancient A-wing that no one could get the engine to work on and saw a head full of dark, curly hair that you’d tugged on a few times.

If you hadn’t been sure of who it was tinkering on the ship, your thoughts were confirmed as Poe looked over his shoulder at the sound of your footsteps.

“You following me now?” A cruel little tease when he knew you wanted nothing to do with him and thought it’d be fun to imply you were obsessed with him.

You supposed it only stung since he knew you’d considered your relationship to be a lot more than he did and he was turning it into a joke.

Your legs moved to retreat from the room, but there was nothing else to do and you’d already left rooms a hundred times when he entered them or you saw he was in them.

He didn’t have the right to make you leave the room and you moved back to the X-wing you’d been fixing to the best of your ability.

You would simply pretend he wasn’t there and keep to yourself.

Not saying a word, you walked to the ship you claimed and sat on a crate underneath it.

A long sip of your caf and you were ready to get out of your head, to put your hands to work in peace.

Which might have been easier to achieve if Poe wasn’t doing what sounded to be ramming every tool into the loudest part of the A-wing.

Every time you were really working on a part of your ship, he would make some sort of clattering noise that made your shoulders tense almost painfully.

You flinched and broke a little piece off the ship, and that was when you knew you couldn’t work with him around.

“Can you please be more quiet?”

“I’m trying to fix this ship...y’know, the one no one else is fixing?”

“And I appreciate that very much, but I can’t do my work on this one with you banging away at it constantly.”

“I thought you liked when I banged away at things?”

Your movements were steadily becoming angrier the more you talked to him, but the innuendo was said while your hands were around a bunch of wires and you yanked.

The torn out wires sent sparks raining down on you and you yelped, falling off your crate and scrambling out from under the ship. “Kriff!”

Poe dropped his tools and walked over to you a little quickly as if he might be concerned, but the upside down face you were seeing from your angle was smirking.

He crouched down. “You seem pretty stressed. Maybe we should have sex again.”

You rolled onto your hands and knees and the glare in your eyes must’ve been something; Poe quickly straightened to his full height as you rose to your feet like some mystical force — it was your very human anger in reality — was guiding you.

He even stumbled back a little at the speed with which you stood in front of him.

It seemed like he was intimidated by you and it was almost sweet.

“I know you’re pushing me away. But I don’t care. Push me away. Or, oh, don’t talk to me at all! I don’t care if you’re sad or if you think about your time with the First Order every moment. You’re not my problem. Stars, I can’t look at you anymore, Poe.”

And you didn’t, turning to look for a tool you needed.

“I was serious about the having sex thing. I mean, you’re good. We have fun.”

You bristled and slammed whatever hammer or wrench you were holding down, but your anger morphed into something a little sadder when you looked at him again.

“—I thought that you loved me. You said that you loved me.”

“I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I didn’t.”

“Yes, you— didn’t.” Your gaze was less sure now as you realized General Hux had been the one to say Poe was in love with you; but he didn’t look at you and didn’t deny it which was him confirming it shamefully, right?

“Having sex in that A-wing might actually make it useful for something.”

“Look, Poe, either way...that—that night when you said I was beautiful and we made love in the Falcon...maybe it was nothing to you, but it meant something to me.”

“Why? It’s not like you love me.”

His comment hurt you with a hard heart or a soft heart, since he was right.

But you were trying.

If he could be himself again, you would trust him enough to open your heart and try a relationship out with him.

You wanted to love him more than anything, but you had shielded yourself against him now that he’d broken your heart in one of the worst ways you hadn’t imagined he would ever do.

“And riding a guy in a cockpit isn’t exactly something I would call meaningful.”

You froze. All those little thoughts you had about wanting him to be himself and tell you what was going on in his head and allow you to love him were now frozen, cracked, falling apart into something you weren’t sure could be put back together.

You didn’t realize that you’d slapped him hard across the face until you heard the smack echo across the room and your palm burned.

His head turned to the side a little from the strength you put behind your assault and his jaw ticked as he turned to stare at you blankly, and you didn’t care whatsoever about his cheek slowly reddening.

He took a moment you thought had been special to both of you and rearranged it like it was something you should be ashamed of doing; like you were a whore for a lack of a nicer term.

“I thought you were a good man,” your voice cracked slightly as Poe Dameron easily broke through the shell around your heart for a moment.

Something flickered in his eyes briefly, but it was too quick for you to pinpoint what the emotion was.

Not that you cared.

This was the last time you would let him break you.

When he broke your heart once, you decided to take his problems off of yourself and let him figure it out on his own, but a small part of you hoped he would eventually be successful and come to you as himself with love; you didn’t think that was possible anymore.

“I thought I could love you, but I hate you.”

You didn’t stay around to hear his response, shoving past him and walking out quickly.

And you left him in the room alone.

It almost seemed empty even though he was still standing there staring after you.

The room was empty whether Poe Dameron was in it or not.

---------------------------

Of course Leia sent Poe on a mission with you.

Both of you were as quiet as you’d been since escaping from the First Order, and no one noticed the coldness in your relationship since your fights were in private.

You didn’t want to be with Poe anywhere on the base and definitely not alone with him on a mission.

Now you were stalking behind him on the planet where you were supposed to be making a deal with their government, mutually pretending the other wasn’t there.

“Go straight,” was the only thing you’d said to him since you left; the comms in your ships were silent and your walking was silent.

“Their building is right.”

“It’s straight ahead, Poe.”

“I was the one in charge of the coordinates for this.”

“No, this was my mission and I made sure I knew exactly where I was going.”

“Then it’s a good thing Leia asked me to come with you.”

“The building is right kriffing there!”

You practically screamed it, stopping Poe in his tracks as people looked over and some native birds were spooked from trees.

He was riling you up like you promised yourself you wouldn’t let him do.

Looking apologetic, you breathed deeply to calm yourself.

“You touch yourself?”

“—I beg your pardon?”

“I asked if you touch yourself at all.”

“That’s none of your fucking business.”

Poe shrugged. “Maybe you would be a little less testy if you tried that out.”

Arguing was incredibly draining, but Poe was giving you no choice but to have one more with him.

Then you could let your general know when you got back to the base that you would no longer be working with him.

Perhaps what you were about to say to him was mostly to hurt him or perhaps there was some truth to it at this point.

“You know why I’m testy now, Poe?” You stood in front of him when he started in the correct direction for the building you needed.

“You don’t like me.”

“I hate this. And I hate you. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about everything that happened to me and everything I did there. I thought we might be able to help each other to heal from it and what happens? You treat me like I’m a body you don’t care about for you to relieve your stress in. You tell me what we’ve done together means nothing to you and that I’m wrong for finding meaning in it. Sometimes I wish that…” You didn’t realize you were walking towards him until your noses were practically touching.

You briefly wondered if you should stop, but you needed this.

The one person who could help you and understand you was becoming another thing that only hurt you.

Your words were true.

Maybe you thought you were crazy and didn’t want to admit them out loud, but they were true.

“Sometimes I wish Hux pulled the trigger. But you told him not to. You begged him to let me live and now I have to live with this. I’m supposed to live with these memories of what was done to me and what you’ve done to me forever. I wish you had let me die. I don’t want to live now.”

Poe stared at you and you weren’t paying attention to whatever emotions were in his eyes.

Had he even heard what you said?

You had no idea.

Part of you almost hoped he didn’t hear the darker parts of your admission.

“I’m telling Leia that I will no longer be working with you once we’re back at base.”

You didn’t look forward as you continued towards the building, assuming that his eyes widening slightly and looking past you was him not caring about all you said to him.

Then you walked into someone’s chest.

Any words disappeared when you looked up at the person in front of you.

A whimper from you and he smiled darkly.

“Weren’t you saying something about me pulling a trigger of some sort? I would happily try again if you wish.”

#poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #star wars imagine #poe dameron fic

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gokailyger84 · 4 years ago

Text

As of November 23 2020 the g/rumps have changed their stance on shipping.

In the video Mario 35 D/an brings it up at the 23:10 mark.

Now, they were specifically talking about explicit fanart and fanfics and coming across it or fearing people they know finding it, much like what happened with Mar/kip/lier and Jac/ksep/tic/eye.

This is what D/an said: “To anyone drawing pornographic pictures or writing sex fanfiction about me and A/rin or B/rian or anyone else, we’re not mad at you, just saying I would be real grateful if you took it down, stop doing that because it makes me feel really bad.”

and a later follow up (they were laughing during this part)

A/rin: "But when you involve a wiener."

D/an: "Yeah as soon as wieners appear that changes everything."

A/rin: "Changes the vibe."

D/an: "Changes the vibe of the whole room."

I’m not going to tell you that sfw shipping is okay because I don’t know if they meant that as well but just in case, I’m going to just stop in general.

Polygrumps has been a thing since 2012 and over the years the various gru/mps and employees that have come and gone have said whether they were okay or not okay with shipping.

Those of us in the fandom made sure to ask permission and did our best to keep it out of the main tags. It’s been eight years and now the show is back down to two grumps and they have given us an update. How you choose to interpret their words is up to you.

If you have n/sfw content, I suggest cleaning up your blogs and user lock or private any fics or art on ao3. What I don’t suggest is going on a massive deletion spree like when D/an revealed his relationship with Ash/ley. At least give others a few days to download your fics.

I know this is a bummer, especially for this year but we had our fun.

Now for the next part.

We still have many fictional characters related to the gr/umps that can be shipped. While they were specific about explicit content, they also talked about how they are real people with feelings. (we all know that and that’s a separate issue most people don’t understand about shippers. shipping real people but it’s not really them.)

In the N/S/P universe we have:

Dan/ny Sex/bang

Nin/ja Bri/an

Ego/raptor (yes this is a character ever since A/rin dropped the name in the g/rumps title screen and he now only appears with Star/bomb)

A/rin Neverbone

Samurai Ba/rry

Mort/ermer (i’m iffy on this one since she wasn’t named but appears in videos and S/uzy pretty much dropped her youtube personas)

We still have everyone in the Good Game Universe.

We could even revive the Dream Daddy shipping.

We also have the Game Gyaru universe.

Daniella

Arina

Rose

Brina/Brianna (is that Bri/an’s gyaru name?)

So, it’s not the end of the world.

#polygrumps

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eryiss · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt: Chendy; Chelia performing CPR on Wendy to restart her heart

Hi. This is my first time writing for this ship, so I hope it’s okay. I hope you enjoy it.

You can also read it on Fanfiction or Archive of our Own.

As Her Heart Skips

No. No this couldn't be happening.

It was- It was meant to be an exhibition fight. They were just there to fill the Grand Magic Game's schedule while the events were being set up, and to allow members of participating guilds not in the teams to show off their abilities. It wasn't meant to be anything special, or important, and they definitely weren't meant to be dangerous.

And Chelia didn't mean for this to happen. She didn't! It was just that she'd been practicing her magic a lot of late, she'd been learning some spells that weren't as stable as she thought, and she'd put more magical energy into one of them.

Now Wendy was… She was…

Why was nobody helping. There was an entire colosseum of people watching this, why were none of them helping? There had to be medics or people with healing magic who could help. And why had nobody from Fairy Tail come down to see if Wendy was okay, they were some of the most protective people Chelia had ever seen. They should be here, doing something – anything – that could help Wendy recover from the injury.

Chelia couldn't think straight, she just couldn't. She looked around for help, because surely it would come, and her eyes landed on Fairy Tail's private viewing area. They were – oh no – beating against walls of runes. The runes that the GMG put up to stop fight interference. They couldn't get into the arena.

Mind still spinning, Chelia looked towards the entrance tunnels where she and Wendy had entered from. The runes were covering them, and the officials couldn't get through them.

No. Nobody could get in! It was just her and Wendy now.

She had to do something. Wendy was lying unconscious, partially covered in the dust that Chelia's spells had whisked up. And if nobody else could get towards her, then it would have to be Chelia. But she wasn't qualified to do anything, nor did she know any first aid techniques- no. Wait. She did!

Her and Wendy had gotten close since they first met, and formed the 'Sky Sisters.' The time they could spend together was limited with the missions they both went on, so they had to find the time whenever they could. One way they'd been able to do that was having Chelia tag along to Wendy's medical lessons with Porlyusica. She had been taught how to perform first aid in case her healing magic had failed her, and Chelia had been to quite a few of lessons. She didn't pay as much attention as Wendy did, but she'd picked up a few things.

If there was anything she could do, then she would. But what if she got it wrong-

No. She had to be calm. That's what Porlyusica always made clear.

Chelia charged forward towards Wendy, looking the girl over with still panicking eyes. She wasn't bleeding – oh thank goodness – and that meant Chelia could turn her over, so she was facing up rather than at the ground. She didn't have any obvious injuries.

Oh no. No. Her chest wasn't moving. Was she not…?

Chelia leant down, placing her ear to Wendy's mouth to see if she could feel or hear any breath. She couldn't. Wendy wasn't breathing. She wasn't breathing!

No. Okay. This was something that Chelia knew how to deal with. It was CPR, wasn't it? When you didn't have anyone with healing magic or anything that could jump start the heart, then you had to perform CPR. It was a simple one to do, she was pretty sure. She forced herself to think back to the lessons – silently angry at herself for being distracted for most of the lessons – until a rush of memories came back to her.

30 chest compressions.

She places her hands onto Wendy's chest in the formation she remembered Porlyusica telling Wendy to, and started to push down in sharp compressions. She hummed a small tune that Wendy had made up to keep the compression in time.

The sounds of the worried crowd fell to the background, a muffled mess of unimportant noises. Her entire focus was forcing her hands down onto Wendy's chest in short bursts of strength in time with the small tune that she was humming. Her eyes were burning slightly, but she shook her head to stop the tears from distracting her. Because she didn't ned to cry, because this was going to be fine. Wendy was going to wake up and she would be okay, and this would all be a bad memory.

Why wasn't there anybody here yet? Surely they'd opened the runes by now!

She was getting to the end of the thirty compressions, and thought back to the first aid lessons to remember what she needed to do next. She thought back to the memory of watching Wendy give compressions to the doll, and once she'd done that she'd… she'd…

Emergency breaths. That's what they were called.

Pinch the nose tightly, lift the chin up to clear the airways, and give two strong breaths.

Chelia did the steps needed of her, and her eyes flickered to the left as she glances Wendy's chest rise slightly before falling slightly. It was working. Oh good it was working.

She returned to her kneeling position over Wendy, placing her hands on her chest and giving them sharp compressions. It was all she could do to focus on the situation, trying to ignore both the crowd of people watching them and the burning in her arms as each compression further tired her out. It didn't matter that she was hurting, or that almost everyone in the country could be watching her, she just needed to focus on this. On helping Wendy.

It was at the third round of compressions that a hand landed on her shoulder, and she looked up to see an unfamiliar mage with a firm expression on her face. She looked over her shoulder towards him, still compressing Wendy's chest.

"We can take it from here, young lady," He said, softly. "But we need some space."

Chelia fell back, allowing the man to kneel before Wendy and start casting a soft beige spell on her. A group of nurse and doctor mages surrounded her, meaning Chelia could no longer look after her. She was left in the middle of the arena, the exhaustion of the situation overtaking her. She breathed heavily, closing her eyes, and panting quietly.

"Hey," A woman's voice said. "She's awake."

Chelia blinked as she woke up, head shooting up and banging against the wall. She had been sleeping in the waiting room from the GMG medical bay, and had woken up to see Lucy smiling at her softly.

After the runes had been broken and medical mages had been able to access the fighting arena, they had taken Wendy to the medical bay to both bring her back to consciousness and to check her over for any further injuries. Many of her guild members had demanded entrance to the First Aid bay, none more loudly than her team. Chelia had arrived in time to hear that nobody would be allowed in until she was in a safe place.

By the lack of any noise from the louder members of Wendy's team, it was likely that they'd already seen her and gone by now. Chelia didn't mind that she hadn't been woken up the moment she could see Wendy, she was just glad to hear that Wendy was awake and able to see visitors again.

"Is she okay?" Chelia asked urgently.

"She seems fine," Lucy smiled, stepping back as Chelia stood up. "She seemed more worried about you than herself though."

"Can I- do you mind if I see her?" Chelia asked, glancing at the door.

"Of course," Lucy grinned. "She'll be happy to see you."

It wasn't the most polite thing to do, but she walked past Lucy without saying anything and into the medical bay. A torrent of worrying thoughts hit her as she saw the curtain around Wendy's bed, all of them possibilities as to how bad Wendy might be looking. With panic flooding her, she pulled open the curtain to see…

Wendy was eating ice cream.

"Chelia," She exclaimed, placing her bowl of ice cream on the bed. "I'm glad you're here. Are you okay?"

"I- what," Chelia spluttered slightly, before shaking her head to refocus her attention. "I should be asking if you're okay. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Wendy assured her, patting the side of the bed for Chelia to sit on. "Would you like some ice cream?"

"You were- I mean you- you were unconscious!" She exclaimed, looking around in almost disbelief. "You shouldn't be offering me ice cream, you should be… I don't know exactly what you should be doing but I should be the one worrying about you. I mean I should be buying you ice cream. It was me that knocked you out."

"You also kept me stable for about five minutes," Wendy smiled, shrugging and then lifting her bowl of ice cream. "There's chocolate, banana and raspberry. They even gave me a wafer and chocolate sauce."

"How do you know I did that?"

Wendy pointed towards the wall, where a lacrima was mounted showing the days news. On the screen there was a slightly flickering image surmising the days events in relation to Grand Magic Games. Chelia watched in horror as she saw images of her compressing Wendy's chest, and the leaning down to give her-

Oh dear.

"Oh no," Chelia mumbled, placing her head in her hands. "I forgot there was cameras."

It wasn't a kiss. It wasn't. It was a way to keep her heart going, and was a necessary medical action. But that didn't mean the reality of the situation was lost on Chelia. She had placed her lips on Wendy's lips. Her lips had touched her crush's clips. And not only that, but most people in the country would have seen it, and it was being repeated on the news all throughout the day. How was she meant to deal with that?

"I could probably ask for you to get your own bowl, if you want a bigger portion," Wendy said from behind her, as if this wasn't a ridiculous situation. "And I didn't know that you paid that much attention to those lessons you sat in on."

"Why are you not angry at me?" Chelia asked, tearing her eyes away from the screen. "I put you in here."

"Not on purpose," Wendy shrugged. "And then you saved me. It evens out. Do you not like ice cream?"

"What if you didn't come back. Or I did something to your insides or something?"

Wendy sighed, placed her bowl of ice cream onto the bed again. She patted the place in the bed next to her, looking at Chelia with a bit of a firm expression. Following the silent instruction, Chelia sat beside her crush and looked at her with worry in her eyes. She fidgeted slightly, trying to ignore the flushing feeling overtaking her at the soft expression Wendy was giving her.

"You saved me, that's what you need to think about," Wendy said firmly. "Accidents happen, and that's okay. You didn't do it on purpose, and I don't blame you," She shrugged, picking up the remote and flicking the channel to a TV movie. "Oh, I've been wanting to watch this."

"I-I can leave you then, if you want," Chelia suggested, with a level of whiplash for how openly Wendy had forgiven her.

"Watch it with me," Wendy asked, smiling at Chelia softly. "Please."

And, well, who was Chelia to deny her crush after a request like that? She placed her feet on the bed beside Wendy, wondering why Wendy didn't blame her for any of this. But when a head rested softly against her side, Chelia decided it didn't matter. This was more important.

#Chendy #chelia blendy #wendy marvell #Fairy Tail #Fanfic #writing #Request #One Shot #Word Count 2k

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ibelieveinturtles · 4 years ago

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Title: Approach With Care, Chapter 2

Collaborator(s): ibelieveinturtles

Square (letter, number, and prompt): U1, What doesn’t kill me makes me mad

Pairing/Main Ship: Darcy Lewis/Bucky Barnes

Rating: T (for language)

Major tags: bad first meeting, violence towards innocent cars, sensory overload, accidental feelings, pining, bedsharing, enemies to lovers

Warnings/Triggers: description of a panic attack

Summary: Bucky's out for a quiet walk when he gets hit by a car. The car does not win. Darcy isn't impressed.

Word Count: 537

The car gets louder and he realises too late that not only is it on his road but it's speeding and won't see him in time to slow down, let alone stop. He's already turning when it appears around the corner. The driver hits the brakes and the car skids on the gravel surface, sliding right towards him.

He didn't intend to stop the car with his metal hand - it was just instinct.

The front of the car collapses under his hand and steam billows up and envelopes him as the engine sputters to a halt.

Damn.

As the steam clears, he lifts his eyes from the crumpled fender and meets the astonished gazes of the driver and her passenger.

Their eyes drop to the ruined hood. Bucky straightens up, flexing his hand as he walks up to the window and signals her to open it.

"What the hell, dude?" she says. "You broke my car!"

"Firstly," he says, "this is private property. Secondly, you could kill someone driving like that. Thirdly, this is private property but if you leave now no one'll press any charges."

The woman bristles and glares at him.

"Firstly," she snaps, "we work at the observatory. Secondly, what the hell were you doing walking in the middle of the road? And thirdly, you broke my fucking car, asshole! We couldn't leave if we wanted too!"

"You could've killed me," Bucky says, really wanting to push that point home. He hasn't survived this much just to be taken out by some crazy woman treating the compound roads like a rally course. "And no one works at the observatory, it's been deserted for months."

"Yeah, 'cause we've been in New Mexico for the winter but we're back now, so stay off our damn road!"

"Seems to me like you've got no proof that it's your road."

"How dare you question our right to be here! Don't you know we are? Who she is?" This last question is punctuated by a finger stabbing jerkily in her friend's direction.

"Don't you know who I am?" he countered.

"Yeah, you're the asshole who broke my car!"

"Excuse me, but who exactly are you?"

Bucky's eyes stray to the other woman. She's watching him carefully but with no sign of her friend's malice.

"Barnes," he says. "Who are you?"

"I'm-"

"None of your damn business is who we are," the driver interrupts, opening the door so violently that he has to fall back a step to avoid being hit. Again.

"You expect me to just believe you work at the observatory without knowing who you are?" Bucky demands. "That's it, I'm calling the Director."

"You do that, asshole. Maria will set you bang to rights." Glaring at him some more, she stomps past him to the front of the car and attempts to open the hood. Bucky fishes his phone out of his pocket.

"Hey, asshole!" his new Nemesis yells. "Get her to send a tow truck while you're at it."

That's it, Bucky decides. He doesn't have to put up with this. Dropping his phone back into his pocket he turns towards the compound.

"Sorry, no service out here. I'll have to walk."

He doesn't look back.

#buckybarnesbingo2020 #bucky barnes #darcy lewis

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malewifehenrycooldown · 5 years ago

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Reprisal Self Insert + Info (TO BE OVERHAULED)

Okay so like I have an idea that will probably fit my s/i in the Reprisal universe (cause it's free game as they cancelled it lol). [ Picrew here ]

I also want to stress that the series is placed in a weird spot era wise. It's still somewhat conservative America, but flip cellphones exist, even telephone boxes and old style TV and VHS sets exist too. War Time / Propaganda footage is show and just in general the aesthetic is all over the place. I assume these details were left on purpose but we'll never know as the series was cancelled.

Also long post ahead.

Tagged (I hope you don't mind but you all seem to be interested ^^’): @alexsbandaid, @tekkai, @wildcardwithaheart, @spectralsapphic, @holographiq-ships, @blackevermore, @foreveryours-mouse, @melonmantic, @multyshipping, @ghcstlyshipping & @yumejin.

Basic Info:

Self Insert mostly goes by the name of Blaze because she says that she's not found of her actual name. She's in her early 20s and is an example of don't judge a book by it's cover. Blaze might seem like the local tough gal but in actuality she's a sweetheart. She has purple hair, brown eyes and is 169cm tall, average build with some curves.

Those scars? She doesn't really talk about them but whenever a person asks she brushes it off as a ‘stupid accident’, but doesn't make it clear if she did it herself or someone else did it. She usually drops the conversation there - either because she has something to hide or that she genuinely does not remember getting them.

Personality wise, Blaze is relaxed and easy-going. She's mostly friendly and kind (a quality that you don't see much in this 'family’). She'll speak when spoken to, although she is admittedly opinionated and will not afraid to speak her mind.

This said she's not meek, she's very much strong in her will and compassion. She isn't easy to anger but she does get somewhat protective of the people she loves and cares about.

How did she join the Bang-A-Rang?:

It's a little complicated. Many members suggest different and conflicting stories. Joel Kelly suggests that his daughter found her at a little café because of her drawings. She had complemented her and said that her dad was somewhat of an artist as well.

Joel was intrigued by Blaze's style and gave her an invite to the Bang-A-Rang, cause he insisted that the place needed some “Lighting Up”, especially in the hallways and such, as the blank walls that are just painted are.... dull to say the least.

Matty and Johnson insist that Blaze was found on accident, as she accidentally trespassed on Brawler territory, and well - basically did graffiti art. They could have turned her to police, but since her talent was so interesting and brightened up the place they instead introduced her to Queenie - who while upset (an understatement) could see the potential talent in a young lady like Blaze.

Some say that Blaze was found on accident by one of their scouters - as she was decorating, that she assumed was public property - not private property. It's just a lot of 'rumours’ with no clear cut story. There's even a rumor that suggests that she's Katherine Harlow's daughter.

If you ask her, she'll just shrug it off and say: “Believe what you want to believe”.

Basically it's very hard to get the original true story, especially when the person involved doesn't see any need to speak about it. Just like the rest of the members, her old life is gone, all that matters is the new one she's living.

Working at the Bang-A-Rang:

Blaze's role at the Bang-A-Rang is varied. On one hand she's the designer for the dancers who put on the burlesque type shows, sometimes she's a bartender and sometimes she's found painting the walls and hallways with more colour and character.

Designer

Blaze does not just make or design the costumes on a whim, she puts thought and creativity into them. She goes so far as to ensure each design fits each girl, not to show off talent, but to also cater to their kind of show and performance. She might even ask each girls what they want individually, as to add uniqueness to each performance. Blaze wants the girls talent to shine through and wow patrons and guests.

Before you ask, no. Blaze does not perform or do burlesque shows. She's admires the girls who do, but that kind of thing isn't up her alley. People respect her decision to not participate in that, except from the occasional sexist comment by men.

Bar Duty

I think this one should speak for itself, although she usually does the early duty in the mornings to afternoons. She gets easily tired, so her work hours are flexible.

Sometimes she might do some duty at night, by only at like 6pm - 8pm, after that she's going to leave and head off to rest / chill. Although interestingly people like coming to the bar and pouring out their woes and problems because she's a 'good listener’ and has nice ‘hospitality’. She's a Bartender Therapist I guess.

Artist

Her job as art director of the Bang-A-Rang is to brighten up the place and hallways with intricate and gorgeous designs. Before she does anything she usually asks Queenie or Joel about which designs they prefer (that she has already made). Depending on their reaction she will install them or make new designs that cater to their taste.

Relationship with Matty & Johnson:

To get straight the point, Matty and Blaze are in a closed romantic/sexual relationship with each other; while and Johnson and Blaze have what seems to be an alterous/queer-platonic relationship. It’s strange, but each party views each other on equal grounds. Johnson respects the relationship that Matty and Blaze have, and Matty respects the relationship Blaze and Johnson have.

It is easy for people to mistake the relationship between Johnson and Blaze to be ‘something more’ but really it's just the fact the two are just close.

Despite this, the boys have a habit of being a little hungover. Is it healthy? No. Is Blaze used to it? Yes. Is that okay? Probably not but look what else can you do after driving around and collecting money from station to station? That's a lot of work tbh. Sometimes they arrive back to the apartment (with Ethan) completely hungover and they will fall onto the bed and just go out like a light bulb - dead tired and sleepy.

It's frustrating, but Blaze has empathy for them. There are rare occasions when they're not hung over and they just crash onto the bed and into the arms of their girl, which is admittedly a bit awkward for Ethan because there's nothing more strange then seeing two of your best buds snuggled up to the same lady- and you being the fourth wheel sitting on the floor.

PDA with Matty is somewhat common, but it usually depends on the situation at night at the Bang-A-Rang.

Laying one's head in the lap of the other, maybe drifting off to sleep.

Sitting on one's lap (Matt has sat in Blaze’s lap before, yes it’s a sight that does turn a few heads)

Sitting next to each other, resting one’s head on the other’s shoulder.

Forehead Kisses.

Casual banter

Flirting at the bar - while on the job.

Make out sessions ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Slow dancing.

Matty tracing over Blaze’s facial scars.

SCAR KISSES.

Just them enjoying each other's company.

It should be stressed somewhat that the progression of PDA took some time to get used to, especially with Matty being somewhat inexperienced with relationships, and due to Blaze’s autism and just neither party being used to romantic affection.

There is an unwritten rule that if you touch Blaze - you're bringing a death wish upon yourself. It's your funeral and Joel (for once) will not hold Matty back from punching the daylights out of you, you might also get a baseball bat to the face from Johnson for extra measure.

Role within the story:

Blaze ideally has a minor role, she's there for Matty and Johnson when something goes bad or array, she's there to give them company and comfort. but she is one of the few characters to figure out that there is something going on with Ethan Hart, the new River Phoenix Recruit.

She does see Ethan as a little brother, and she does her best to look out for him. Blaze only really gets involved at the end of the series, especially during the finale - which I won't spoil for those who haven't seen it.

Other Notes:

Doesn't believe the Katherine Harlow Story, that she betrayed the family and made a truce with the Ghouls. Something about that story does not sit well with Blaze.

She is autistic, and also has Narcolepsy (with Cataplexy). This means she can't be overworked or given late bar duty.

Good friends with Meredith Harlow and Queenie. Also gets along with Joel's Daughter too.

Does not like Avron at all. She feels extremely uncomfortable around him.

Avron already has bad blood with Matty.

Elaboration: Avron belittled Blaze for trying out to be a River Phoenix. It was not successful on her terms, it's very hard to keep awake in the car for such a long time. When she couldn't become one, Avron tried to take her place and he succeed. This got on Matty's nerves because Avron was doing it out of spite and was a means to get at Blaze. Johnson? He was insulted because Avron insinuated that 'women can't be Phoenixes’ which is bullshit, because once there WAS a female Phoenix by the name of Rita (Johnson knew her and she was a damn good one). The breaking point was when Avron 'tried’ to call Blaze for being lazy and lack of work, made Blaze have a mental breakdown. Matty was furious and actively took away his role as 'River Phoenix’ - Joel thought it was a bit too far but he understood why Matty did it, so he let it slide. This canonically leaves the 'Third River Phoenix’ role empty, until Ethan Hart came along.

Blaze has tried smoking, is a bit 'eh’ with it. She personally prefers lollipops.

Sometimes the girls will give Blaze a makeover as a thanks for working and designing their clothes for the dances.

Pretty decent with a gun. Personal favourite is the classic shotgun.

#self insert #self insert x canon #reprisal hulu #self shipping community #self ship #Self Inserts #self ship community #self shipping #self-shipping #f/o community #self-ship #self-ship community #self-shipping community #fictoromantic #💘 You Give Love A Bad Name #reprisal self insert: blaze #🧵🥃 Thread and Drinks #TO BE REWRITTEN #reprisalposting

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