#but being unable to do it right. always forgetting always slipping up

[natjennie]

something about "your anger isn't scary to me" is making me so emotional. something about as above so below, cassandra as a mirror of kristen. something about "I've been dropping the ball a lot lately" and kristen's struggles with adhd. something about teenage girls and rage and fury and justice. something about adaine's vision of ruining fallinel and the sylvaire looking for revenge. something about sadness and doubt and anger and love. something about "I choose to understand" being the absolute core theme of d20 in general. something something.

[urfavnewgirl]

in the midst of you dragging your desk chair to the bathroom, jason speaks.

“sweetheart, i don’t understand why you insist on doing this.”

“because,” your hand finds his upper arm, dragging him with you, “i am trying to prove a theory.”

the direction of his steps matches yours instinctively, almost as if you were the steering wheel commanding his body, mind, and soul.

“the theory being…” his eyebrows raise, and he tilts his head, “that i have curly hair?”

“yes. exactly. now sit down.”

he sighs in false pretense and takes a seat. jason todd was putty in your hands, but of course, he would never admit it. so he pretends to be annoyed. reluctant. not a fan of your ideas, no, rarely ever.

but in reality? he’d probably let you dye his hair a ghastly shade of green, just to feel your touch. so he lets you do this, too. especially when you pause in front of the bathtub, your grip shifts to his t-shirt, and your eyes assess his face as if this were your first time undressing him. you’ve seen him shirtless a million times before, and yet, your quiet demand for consent remains a constant with him.

once he nods, the material slips off with ease, your gaze flickers across his toned upper body, patterns of scars and inscriptions of countless horror stories marking his beautiful skin. you lean forward. he almost sighs in relief when your fingers curl around his shoulders, and your lips meet his body in a featherlight kiss.

you pretend not to notice the nearly cherry-colored hue to his cheeks as you halt beside his seated form, adjusting the water temperature.

“okay, pretty boy-“

“do not call me that.”

with your fingers on the back of his head, you gently guide him down, “i’ll call you whatever i want.”

your teasing words, as always, drastically contrast the sweetness of your actions, and he finds himself unable to even feel a sliver of annoyance towards you. instead, he settles into your touch like an enzyme finding its appropriate substrate. lock-and-key.

"you’re annoying."

"your head is in my hands. behave."

he doesn’t reply, can’t afford to, not when he knows you can see the flush on his face intensifying at your commanding tone.

"let me know if the water is too hot. or too cold."

"’s fine."

you hum.

the next few minutes pass by in silence, accompanied by your ever so careful movements. shampoo. once. then twice. your fingers curl through his hair, and he softens completely. the lightest coating of conditioner. brush. curl cream. scrunch. hair gel. scrunch again, and finish with an old cotton t-shirt plopped on top.

you pull him off the chair, look up at him with a grin. "you look so silly."

he slides his warm hands up your arms, resting them just below your shoulders, and it takes everything in him not to mirror your expression. "i don’t think you can seperate art and artist here. so, if i look dumb, that’s your fault."

"maybe..." you press a kiss to his cheek, and his hold on you tightens immediately, "the artist doesn’t wanna be seperated from the art."

he chuckles briefly, pulls you closer to him until your nose meets his chest, his arms wrapping around you like a weighted blanket.

"ditto. maybe."

you return his embrace, nuzzling into him.

"...also, the artwork’s kind of unfinished. still need to diffuse."

he groans.

-

twenty minutes later, you’re done, proudly standing behind his form in front of the bathroom mirror. there’s an array of products messily stood atop the washing machine now, his neck hurts like hell, but your giddiness alone makes him forget about it all.

plus, his hair really does look good. curly, like you anticipated.

"am i van gogh, or what? well, minus the ear part."

he turns around, faces you. "you are."

"pretty, right?"

you’re smiling at him, and he swipes his knuckles over your cheek, his hand finding refuge on your face. he nods, his voice lowering. "mhm. pretty."

"you should thank me properly."

"yeah," he blinks at you, slowly, "got any ideas?"

"one million dollars, transferred to my bank account right now."

he laughs in disbelief. "i think i have a better one."

"two million dollars?"

he grins once more, shakes his head. he leaves not an atom of empty space between you as he pulls you in for a kiss. it’s a rough first meeting thanks to the speed of his actions, but he slows down immediately, and so does everything else around you.

jason reciprocates everything you have taught him, today and everyday before - by kissing you softly, sweetly, with a gentleness only ever reserved for you. your knees nearly give in, but he’s here to catch you.

it’s your turn to blush when he pulls back, and he throws the ball even further into your court by running his thumb over your bottom lip. "that good enough for you?"

you blink. "i don’t know. one million dollars is a lot of money."

he hums, his gaze locked on yours. "guess i’ll have to try again, then."

"i guess so."

and he does just that, until your flush turns a shade of maroon not even the great masters themselves could recreate.

-

heyy.... not proofread.. see u in a month........ wrote this while spiralling due to exams... thought id post it to feed the children. sorry if it sucks. also i dont even like curly hair on men idk y i wrote this!

[st7rnioioss]

۶ৎ SKATER!CHRIS x GIRLY!READER

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... pure fluff, kissing, sexual innuendo at the end (?), not proofread!

“but why? isn’t.. isn’t it a bit odd?” chris chuckled, leaning back on the couch. you shook your head with a laugh, twirling the pink ribbon between your fingers.

“no! come on, just- just let me do it. i’ll just take a quick picture, then you can take it back off,” you pleaded, tilting your head to the side with a bat of your eyes. “pleeeease?” you pouted softly, swinging the ribbon in front of his face.

“come on, don’t give me that look..”

chris had been hitting the gym more often now, usually going with a few friends after his last classes, before returning to your dorm. you always started blushing when you noticed how his arms had gone visibly bigger, going all silly and giggly while chris was obviously confused about exactly why it was such a good thing. but he continued to do so, occasionally flexing in front of you just to watch you go weak, playfully grabbing you in a loose headlock whenever you stood in front of him.

“fine, but don’t be too weird about it,” he shook his head with a smile, tugging his sleeve up over his shoulder.

“yes! thank you, thank you, thank you,” your lips pressed to his cheek, leaving a wet kiss and a glossy mark on his soft skin, before wrapping a hand around his arm to guide him closer to you.

swiftly, you wrapped the pink ribbon around his bicep, carefully tying a loose but firm bow, smiling at the pretty sight.

“yeah? you like it?” he smirked, letting out a chuckle from the way you were basically ogling at his arm, unable to stop yourself from staring.

his ames had gotten big big, and in just a few months of consistently working out. and did it look good.

nodding slowly, your cheeks turned pink. “yup,” your hand squeezed his muscle gently, before pulling your phone out to take a picture, grabbing his arm to position it right.

you snapped a few pictures, asking him to flex just gently.. which he understood nothing of. just as you took the picture, he snapped the ribbon, ruining the pretty bow and picture.

“no! what are you doing?” you whined, picking up the ribbon from the cushions with a soft pout. “is that drool?” he ignored your question, jokingly poking the corner of your mouth, messing your lipgloss up.

you broke into a giggle, shoving his hand away playfully. “stop, i’m not drooling, chris. i’m fully grown, not three years old-“ you continued laughing when he poked you again, playfully wiping some lipgloss off your lip. he then closely looked at his thumb, as if you had in fact been drooling.

“i think you are three years old. is this not drool? you like my arms that much, doll?” he raised a brow, smirking when he saw the embarrassed look on your face, though it was mostly a joke.

it was only something you joked with around chris, not actually expecting him to take it seriously. yes, you liked the way he’d gotten more muscular. scratch that, you loved it. but it wasn’t exactly something you’d admit to him, but yet you did.

with a nod, you were a blushing mess, batting your eyes at him. “maybe..?” you giggled, before a yelp slipped from your lips, suddenly being scooped up into those very arms, immediately wrapping your arms around his neck, though you knew he wouldn’t drop you.

“what are you doing? let go!” you squealed when he stood up, laughing hard as he carried you away, not forgetting the ribbon on the couch that he snatched between his digits.

“don’t fight it, baby. you’re gonna show me just how much you like them, okay?” his words were whispered, his voice husky while carrying you back to your bedroom.

“yeah, okay..” you were a mess, stumbling over the words you could hardly get out, before nodding dumbly, a pink tint settling on your cheeks at just the mere thought of what exactly he’d make you do.

he then carried on to shut the door shut behind you, letting out a laugh when he looked down at you. “that’s right, dollface. my turn to wrap a bow around you.”

𝜗𝜚˚࿔ notes: more skater!chris for y’all!:3 im literally drooling at chris why does he look beefy:( i need my teeth on his arm rn

more skater!chris x girly!reader here!

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© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023

[urcoolgf]

ex husband¡rafe as partynextdoor’s part of ‘celibacy’ 18+

“nuh uh. don’t do that,” he didn’t have to be loud to be intimidating. his voice was stern, like he knew you wouldn’t go against him—like he would do whatever it took to make sure you didn’t.

“do what? i’m tired of this, rafe. i know you don’t see it, but you’re controlling, and i can’t raise mila like that. i won’t do it,” you sounded drained, like you were tired of explaining this to him—explaining that him being a ‘good dad’ didn’t mean he was good for you.

you didn’t even mean for your words to bite, but they did. rafe’s jaw slacked every so slightly, unable to respond.

“you don’t mean that,” he sighed out, shaking his head as his eyes narrowed in a type of disbelief.

“i dunno, rafe. i don’t think this is working anymore,” you motioned between the two of you, clearly worn from arguing so damn much. he was a really good dad, you gave him that, but it just didn’t feel the same anymore—you guys didn’t feel the same.

“you’re not takin’ mila from me, babe… we’re gonna make this work,” he gritted out, his jaw tightening at the idea of you actually leaving him—actually taking his daughter away from him... both images made his fists clench.

“how?”

—

you shouldn’t have asked. rafe’s head was planted between your thighs like he belonged there, your legs resting on his shoulders, lapping at your cunt like his life was at stake—because you leaving? taking mila with you? his life was at stake.

your hand tried to grab at the buzzed hair on his head, trying to find some type of stability while his tongue worked you into overdrive. he had you spread on the kitchen counter—not bothering to move out of the room where the argument started. he had to make you forget—forget about all the insanity you were saying earlier, forget that he’s maybe not the best guy, forget that he has the tendency to be controlling, forget that things might not be the same as they used to.

“fuck– rafe… holy shit,” your eyes rolled back, your back arching like your body was trying to escape the pleasure your husband was giving to you right now.

there was no escaping him—physically and mentally.

he was always going to be there, you knew that. there was no use in trying to fight him.

he backed away from your dripping cunt just enough to mumble against your skin, “mine. ya hear? not leavin’, babe,” before diving back in like a man starved. he didn’t want anything from you—not sexually—all he wanted was to hear you say you would stay.

rafe looked up at you, eyes narrowed, signature cocky smirk on his face even while licking stripes up and down your pussy.

he pulled back for a moment, your slick covering his mouth and chin. “tell me, y/n. tell me you’re not leavin’,” he said it calmly. his fingers replaced his mouth, toying with your clit, occasionally slipping the tip of his finger inside you, teasing you—teasing a response out of you.

“rafe… rafe– please,” you begged, breathless. your hands slipped around his neck, trying to pull him back into your core.

“nuh uh, baby. not until you say it,” the smirk still on his lips, taunting you like he knew you would give in. maybe it wasn’t the healthiest way of ‘making it work’, but it was more of a guarantee.

“not leavin’… shit, ‘m not leavin’, baby– jus’– jus’ please,” you felt pathetic. you felt so pathetic, and you almost didn’t even care. not with the way he was teasing you, playing with you like he owned you—like you were just a toy to him.

“that’s right, mama. you’re not leavin’. you need me. mila needs me… same way i need you both, yeah? one happy little family,” he said it softly, but something in his tone was dangerous. rafe gave you a quick wink before burying himself between your thighs once again, making you shake until you cried.

the tears a mixture of your pleasure, and the pain that came along with being married to rafe cameron.

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© URCOOLGF. est. 2025

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[revelboo]

Revel!!! I will sacrifice my firstborn for more cygate x reader..

..pretty please?

Sure 🤣 🔞 mass displaced mech 🌶️

Play

Cyclonus x Reader x Tailgate

• “Ready for me?” Tailgate asks, chin resting against your spine, servos curling and pumping inside you to make your thighs tremble as you buck against his palm. And you whimper when he pulls his hand away, shifting behind you and you look over your shoulder to watch him offer his slick servos to Cyclonus, the other bot’s mouth opening so that wicked glossa can curl around Tailgate’s servos and lick them clean.

• Shuddering as Cyclonus pulls his head back, optics hungry, Tailgate momentarily forgets what he’s doing. Unable to think of anything beyond the memory of what that glossa can do. Swallowing a whine of need, he smooths a hand up your spine. Easing you down on your belly among your pillows, hips propped up for him. “Tailgate?” You whimper and he shakes himself, freeing his spike and slowly stretching you, listening to you make a soft sound as he sheaths himself. And releases the plating protecting his valve for Cyclonus.

• Venting in amusement as one of your legs slides alongside Tailgate’s knee, impatient and wanting the minibot to move inside you, Cyclonus shifts on his knees at Tailgate’s back. Watching the minibot go down onto his hands and knees over you. “You sure you can handle this?” He asks, servos sliding against Tailgate’s hips as he finds his valve, notching the head of his spike against the much smaller bot. And Tailgate pushes back in demand to make you whine a protest when he almost slips free of you. Smiling indulgently, Cyclonus drives deep and you both make a sound as Tailgate’s hips smack into you.

• Maybe this wasn’t your best idea. While Cyclonus is much bigger, Tailgate’s still big enough inside you. And as Cyclonus begins rutting into Tailgate in hard thrusts, you’re pinned under the minibot who’s forced to move inside you at the same pace. Fingers fisting into the blankets under you trying to adjust to the urgent pace Cyclonus is setting, you know you’re not going to last long.

• Groaning incoherently, trapped between you and Cyclonus, Tailgate wonders if he can offline from pleasure. You’re so slick and tight wrapped around his spike and Cyclonus’s own spike is stretching him as he ruts against him making him rut into you. And those desperate sounds you’re making are spinning him tight as Cyclonus snarls against his neck about how good he feels, how tight he is. Until he’s whimpering as loudly as you are. Feeling you fist his spike as you cry out and he’s overloading hard, but Cyclonus is still driving into him. Dragging it out before the bigger mech snarls and fills him. “You two okay?” Cyclonus growls and all he can manage is a shaky whimper.

• Was he too rough? You’re both making almost the same sound under him as he reluctantly slips free of Tailgate and the minibot doesn’t bother to move off of you even when you whine that he’s heavy. Venting, Cyclonus lifts him free of you, getting distracted as Tailgate’s still erect spike pops free of you and his excess trails down your thigh. “I want to frag you,” Tailgate whines and Cyclonus chuckles. And your head turns, face flushed to look up at them. “You want Cyclonus’s spike next, right?” Tailgate adds.

• Rolling onto your hip you watch Tailgate sit down spike still slick with you and his own release and it’s almost funny to watch the much bigger mech ease himself down in Tailgate’s lap facing away from him onto his spike with a growl. You’re always forgetting how crazy strong Tailgate is for being so small. And Cyclonus crooks a servo at you. Legs wobbling, you get up and come over. Let Cyclonus lift you and impale you into his spike with a growl. You’re going to be sore. Know it, but you’ve always been a glutton for punishment. Laying your head back against Cyclonus as he lazily bounces you on his thick spike, toes curling at the burn of him stretching you after Tailgate. Content to let him do all the work, riding Tailgate and moving your unresisting form on his spike. Being pampered and fucked silly by both of your mates.

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel acts like he doesn’t like you until he comes across your rapist.]

TW: MENTION OF RAPE. Angst

“What did he do?” His voice was low, eerie like, suddenly he looked angry as you stood still before him.

Ever since Tess had died Joel became more unbearable to deal with. The two of you had only known each other a couple months before she passed away but never got close to one another, if anything Joel acted like he didn’t like having you around. He barely held any conversations with you unless it involved a plan he needed you to be on the same page with him about. Silently he’d share food with you but that was pretty much as far as he’d go.

“Get up, we’re gonna keep moving today” Joel woke you up out of your sleep gathering his belongings as you sighed.

“I thought you said we’d stay here for two nights-“

“Plans changed. We’re leaving soon” you groaned as you got on your feet and began to pack. This journey to Marlene seemed a lot longer than you thought it would be.

“Are you sure Marlene even has what you want?” You asked with a sigh. He didn’t respond instead handing you your weapon so you could follow him out.

Walking with Joel through the woods your foot accidentally slid down a rock making you gasp loudly. Joel quickly turned with his knife ready to attack only to find you straightening your shirt.

“I slipped” he didn’t respond only looking irritated and turned back to continue walking. You didn’t understand why Joel always seemed so bothered by you, had he not promised Tess that he’d look after you, he wouldn’t have stuck around with you. Tess never shared to him the true reason why she wanted him to care for you but when you first met her you had confided in her the brutal things that you overcame. One of them being that you were held captive for a couple months by a group not far out, one of the men in their group being your rapist, you were always afraid to come across this man again. Little did Tess know, this very same man was running things alongside Marlene.

“Joel, have I done something to upset you at any point?” You asked trying to keep up with him.

“No” he responded without looking your way.

“So what’s your issue?”

“I don’t have a damn issue, now let’s keep moving” you gave up at that point not saying a word. Joel truly didn’t have a specific issue with you, he just chose to not allow himself to get close to anyone ever again, he had lost too much.

Finally making it to Marlene’s you followed behind Joel walking in. You had no idea whom Marlene was or anything about the place but being with Joel you just did as he said. Standing beside him a few feet away you were introduced to Marlene. She seemed like a woman who was strictly about business, she spoke to him of the car she had promised.

Of course, tomorrow it would be ready.

You didn’t speak during their conversation, not thinking much of anything until the door opened and a man walked in. Instantly your heart sunk, your stomach turned as the man stood by Marlene confidently before noticing you.

“This is my right hand man, he does what I say, when I say and can always be counted on” Marlene introduced the man beside her, you found yourself unable to speak. You knew who this man was, how could you not?

Edward….you’d never forget his name, one year ago this man made your life a living hell. Your throat felt like it was closing up, your heart racing-

“Look who it is” Edward grinned towards you making Marlene raise a brow at you. Joel turned to you as you looked down taking a deep breath.

“Small world” Marlene muttered but Joel noticed something off with your reaction.

“Anyways, Joel” Marlene got his attention explaining what would happen.

“Tomorrow before the evening I should have a car for you, for now you two can stay in a room I have prepped” Joel didn’t like the idea of staying an extra day but silently nodded and took the offer. Thankfully Edward and Marlene left the room before someone else led you to the room you would both stay in. Your heart felt like it would come out your chest but you couldn’t find it in you to speak. Joel walked ahead of you opening the door to the room. You stood by the door closing it behind you watching as he placed his backpack on the bed without looking back. Your body felt as if it would collapse any moment, you couldn’t stay here, you couldn’t be around Edward yet you knew you couldn’t say a thing.

That night Joel noticed you seemed a bit fidgety but he didn’t say a word. He lay back on his bed and watched as you double checked the locks on the door twice before laying down.

“You know we’re safe here right?” You looked up not noticing Joel had been watching you.

“Y-yeah” you nodded before turning over and facing the wall. That night you didn’t sleep, if anything you hoped Joel would sleep so he wouldn’t hear you crying in the middle of the night. Of course that didn’t work, at one point Joel opened his eyes thinking he was hearing something but he couldn’t make out what it was until he looked over and noticed you seemed like you were trembling. Quickly he sat up unsure of what to do, slowly he got up from the bed and noticed you were whimpering in your sleep. He didn’t know what the hell to do, he’d never seen you like this before but he knew damn well what it felt like. Delicately he placed his hand on your shoulder and tried to wake you.

“Hey” you continued to whimper but wouldn’t open your eyes. Joel cleared his throat and leaned in closer to you prepared for you to be startled.

“Hey wake up” he shook you a little harder making your eyes quickly open. You gasped unaware who was near you, unaware that you had even been dreaming, raising your hand ready to hit whoever it was Joel caught your wrist in mid air.

“Easy, honey”

You looked up at him confused, you hadn’t even realized you fell asleep now here was Joel looking down at you with concern. Once he was sure that you knew it was him, he released your arm as you tried to catch your breath.

“I’m sorry” you whispered.

“It’s alright, just havin’ a bad dream is all” he looked at you for a moment curious to ask you what was it that made you so upset but didn’t say a word.

“I’m right here if you need me” he motioned towards the bed on the other side of the room. You quietly nodded and watched as he got back into bed. Turning away from him you could feel the embarrassment from what had just happened yet you were surpsied by how gentle he handled it. It was a new side you both had seen of each other.

The next day you did your best to stay clear from wherever Eduardo could be, and so you decided to stay in the room.

Just one more day of this, one day and you’d be gone. Joel explained to you that he would be going over something with Marlene leaving you by yourself. You assured him it was fine and sat on the bed reading a book you always carried around after making sure the door was locked. Sometime had passed when you heard the door unlock and you figured it was Joel. Laying comfortably facing the wall you flipped the page hearing the door close behind you.

“What happened with Marlene?” You asked when you felt the touch of a hand on your arm making you turn to see it was the very person you had been trying to avoid.

Edward

Quickly you jumped up, your back against the wall as he smirked at your reaction.

“It’s been a while” you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t believe he was right in front of you.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost” he chuckled placing his hand on your thigh. If you could move any further away you would’ve, he could see how anxious he made you.

“Relax, sweetheart I’m not gonna do anything” he licked his bottom lip pushing his hand further up your thigh.

“I just wanted to say hi to an old friend”

He leaned in and kissed your cheek as you tried to turn away.

“It’s a shame you’re leaving tomorrow, thought we could’ve had some fun” he laughed walking back out of the room and closed the door shut.

In shock you sat there with disgust, the simple touch or his hand on your thigh making you sick to your stomach.

You couldn’t do this, you didn’t care about a damn car no matter how badly you both needed it. Quickly you got up running to the door locking it shut once again afraid he would return.

Where the hell was Joel…all you wanted to do was leave.

After what felt like forever you finally heard the door begin to unlock, your heart jumping at the sound.

“Joel?” You called out worriedly to see his face as soon as the door opened.

“Yeah, it’s me” he walked past you not noticing the panic attack you were feeling in that moment.

You watched as he fold a paper and placed it in his backpack, a knot in your throat you struggled to speak.

“Joel” you finally were able to utter a word in a soft whisper. Going through his backpack he didn’t respond not having heard your voice. You struggled to speak again, stomach turning just at the thought of your rapist knowing where you were…the fact that he came to you when you were alone..

“Joel” you spoke a little louder where he was able to hear you.

“Yea” he responded as he zipped up his bag.

“Joel…I can’t stay here another night” you blurt out.

“What?” He asked confused with your statement still not looking back.

“We’re fine here, it’s just till the afternoon’” he assured you making your panic rise.

“No, I…Joel I can’t stay here” he noticed how your voice trembled and slowly turned to you. His eyebrows furrowed once he noticed the worry in your eyes.

“What’s the matter?” He stood straight fully facing you.

“Can we just go?” You didn’t want to give the reason, you didn’t want to speak of it.

“We’re getting the car tomorrow, its just one more night-“

“Joel please” you whispered taking a deep breath making him take a step closer. He stood silent, he could tell something had terrified you.

“Somethin’ happen while I was gone?” He asked making you quickly shake your head.

“No, no just please-“ you began to hyperventilate.

“I can’t, I can’t-“ you struggled to breathe when someone knocking on the door made you run into Joels arms. Confused he looked down at you slowly placing his hands on your back sensing the true horror you felt.

“Hey, hey it’s alright, it’s alright” he whispered feeling you shake in his arms. It was like the night before, all over again only this time something in your waking life was scaring the shit out of you. The sound of another knock making you grab onto his shirt.

“Give me a minute!” He called out feeling you hide your face against his chest.

“Hey” he whispered low looking down at you but before he could say another word Edwards voice heightened your fear.

“It’s me, Edward” your eyes widened as you silently began to shake your head.

“What is it, darlin’?” Your panic not allowing you to realize the softness Joel had in his voice with concern over you. The door suddenly opening sending you rushing behind Joel.

Edward appeared at the door.

“I was just making sure you guys had what you needed” a smile Joel didn’t trust appeared on his lips as he leaned over to get a peak at you. You felt Joel’s hand reach behind you holding you against him.

Edward could see the defensive look in Joel’s eyes and wondered if you had told him anything.

“What’s wrong with her?” He asked testing what he would say.

“I got her” is all Joel responded with as Edward looked at him curiously. Not saying another word Edward took a step back giving Joel a nod before leaving the room. Joel waited until he disappeared from his site before giving your thigh a tap behind him.

“He’s gone” he assured you making you slowly peak over his shoulder to see the empty hallway that led to the room. Quickly you ran to the door shutting it closed and locking it with each lock it had.

“We need to get our stuff and get out of here now” you ran to grab your bag and his before he tried to stop you.

“Wait a minute, wait-“ he grabbed you by your arms stopping you before you grabbed anything else. Joel was struggling to understand what exactly had you so afraid of this man.

“Joel, we need to go-“

“Talk to me for a minute”

“No! There’s nothing to talk about, I am not staying here!” You screamed trying to break free from his hold.

“What the hell did he do to you?!”

“Nothing!” You tried to shake his hands off you once more but failed.

“We can’t leave without that car, we need that car if we wanna make it-“

“I don’t care! I’m not staying here with him!”

“He’s not gonna do anything to you, darlin’ I promise you that-“ you shook your head in frustration that he wasn’t understanding.

“He won’t lay a finger on you-“

“He already has!” You suddenly blurt out silencing Joel. An intense look in his eyes as he took a deep breath looking down at you.

“What did he do?” His voice was low, eerie like, suddenly he looked angry as you stood still before him.

“It was long ago” you whispered.

“Doesn’t matter” he quickly responded.

“I had told Tess, I never thought I would see him again….it was a year ago…I had nowhere to go and he said he would help me. He’s the man who raped me.” you looked down as a tear rolled down your cheek.

“Did he come in here while I was gone?” He leaned in closer. You looked up and hesitantly nodded when he abruptly walked out past you charging down the hall.

“Joel!” You called out for him trying to keep up but all Joel could see was red.

“What are you doing?!” You yelled as he kicked the door open where Marlene and Edward both were. Without warning he yanked up Edward by his collar throwing him against the wall as Marlene stood up.

“Joel what the hell are you doing?”

“Stay out of this” he looked at her with a look you had never seen and grabbed Edward once again as he struggled to get on his feet.

“Whatever she said she’s a lying bitch!” He tried to poorly defend himself causing Joel to punch him repeatedly. In shock you stood in the doorway watching it all play out, Joel had lost complete control until Edward was a bloody mess.

“Oh my god-“ you whispered.

Joel stood up and walked towards Marlene who backed up not knowing what he would do.

“Give me the fucking keys” he spoke out of breath. Not even trying to fight him she opened the drawer and tossed him the car keys before he looked back at Eduardo.

“Should be more careful of who you have workin’ for ya. Got a rapist on your hands” Joel walked out of the room without looking at you in the eye, taking your hand he led you out.

In disbelief you walked alongside him trying to keep up, at one point looking behind you.

He still wouldn’t say a word.

Joel opened the car door for you and quickly got in the drivers seat before driving off.

Speeding down the road he didn’t take his eyes off it before abruptly pulling over. You could see him though the corner of your eye turning his body fully toward you, you didn’t know what to expect.

“You don’t ever keep somethin’ like that from me again. We clear?” You nodded in silence looking down at your lap.

“We would’ve never stayed there for even one night had I know what he done to you. You ever feel unsafe again I need ya to tell me and you tell me right away”

“Yes Joel” you whispered.

Turning back towads the road he pulled off feeling he came off kind of harsh towards you which wasn’t what he wanted. Unexpectedly you felt him place his hand on your lap bringing you a sense of calmness. He slowly entangled his fingers with yours without looking your way, you had no idea what this meant but one thing was for sure..

Joel made you feel safe.

[harksness]

A/N: i was so feral over detective harkness i wrote a quick lil smut fic (thanx to the rings anon who gave me an idea for this lol <3)

also I KNOW SHES TECHNICALLY AGNES HERE SHHHH JUST GO WITH IT

Warnings: SMUT, oral, Agatha receiving, hair pulling, degradation and praise. Dom! Agatha as per usual. Sub! Reader as per usual.

WC: 2.1k

Carefully, you push the door to Agatha’s office closed behind you and twist the lock. She doesn’t even notice that you entered, hunched over her desk with papers and files sprawled out beneath her, pen clenched in her left hand as she bends over the mess. Strands of hair had slipped out of her ponytail, hanging along the sides of her face.

Once in a while you’ll surprise her at work like this. She’s been so stressed lately that she hasn’t been sleeping through the night. That's not abnormal for your wife, she is a bit of a workaholic afterall, but sometimes she just needs you to drag her back into reality. And that's been hard to do with your conflicting work schedules and her long days lately.

Slowly, so you don't startle her, you walk over to Agatha’s desk. Her eyes glance up to you but don’t seem to process you right away as the flick back down to her work, before landing back on you again. As the realization finally sinks in, a smile grows on her features.

“Hey, hot stuff.”

Your heart leaps into your throat at the way she shoots you a wide grin, legs spreading as she leans back in her office chair to look up at you.

“Hey, even hotter stuff.”

She snorts at your flirting, throwing her pen down onto her desk. It makes you feel a little too smug that it's so easy for her to forget her work when you're around.

“You don’t look in the mirror as much as you should. You’re obviously the hotter stuff.”

She argues lightheartedly as you turn and lean against the desk next to her, the plush of your ass digging into the edge of the tabletop as you smile down at her.

“Well I could say the same thing to you.”

Again, she snorts.

“I’ve barely slept the last few days, my eye bags are huge, my hair is a mess and I’ve got stains all down the front of my frumpy flannel. I’m not hot right now.”

Agatha's eyes are tired and her words make your heart ache in your chest. She's always the most beautiful thing in the world, the details don't matter. She's just always stunning.

You lean in towards her and take her face in your hands, her eyes fluttering closed as she leans into your touch.

“You’re always hot, baby.. It doesn’t matter the circumstances.”

You coo at her, a little laugh escaping her lips as you lean in and press a kiss to her forehead. You decide to speak up before she can continue arguing you, knowing her stubbornness wouldn't let this go unless you changed the subject.

“You look stressed, my love..”

Agatha groans at your words, frustrated.

“There’s just a lot going on right now.. Yknow?”

You nod your head in understanding. When you married her, you knew this is what you were signing up for. She’s obsessed with her job, gone for long periods of time and unable to take her mind off of her work. And that dedication is something you love about her regardless. You’re okay with being her anchor, tethering her and bringing her back to reality. She always floats back to you when you pull her back down to Earth, and that’s all you could ever ask for. 

You’ll happily keep doing this for the rest of your life.

Leaning down, you press your lips against her cheek in a lingering kiss, lips ghosting against her skin as you speak.

“Why don’t you let me help you take your mind off of things for a bit..”

You whisper against her soft skin, and she lets out an amused noise as you continue to kiss her, your lips moving to trace along her jawline as you guide her head to tilt to the side.

“Baby… Fuck.. We can’t-”

As she says that her hands are reaching for you, grabbing you and pulling you closer. You smile against her skin.

“Are you sure you want me to stop? I will if you really want me to..”

She doesn't answer, torn between doing what she wants and the responsible thing.

You pull back, admiring her beautiful, tired features for a moment. She looks up at you with love pooling in her eyes as you trace your thumb affectionately along her cheek, under the deep purple bags creasing under her pretty bright eyes before placing a lingering kiss on her lips.

Then, you quickly glance behind you at the door you locked on the way in, ensuring it’s still secure before you drop to your knees in front of her, right below her desk and between her spread legs. The firm carpet is rough on your knees but you don't care, the woman before you is more important. She groans and lets out a louder curse at the sight of you before her.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this..”

She breathes the words out and you smile up at her, leaning forward and running your hands up her clothed thighs.

“Then let me make your fantasy come true, baby.. Please?”

You beg sweetly, batting your eyelashes up at her. She digs her teeth into her bottom lip, eyes flickering greedily over you as she contemplates what to do. 

“Fuck, you’re worth getting fired over.”

You’re grinning ear to ear as you lean forward, running your hands from her knees all the way up her thighs and to the waist of her pants. She watches you with eager eyes, greedy smile etched into her pretty pink lips as she raises her hips off the chair.

Quickly, your hands scramble to undo her pants before grabbing the hem and pulling them down and off her legs, underwear and all, leaving her bare for you as more and more of her soft, pale skin is exposed.

She laughs softly at your eagerness, raising a hand to card sweetly through your locks.

“You begged for this, sweet girl.. Now, you better do a good job if you’re willing to risk my career over it.”

She teases and you lean in, holding her gaze as you press a lingering, open mouth kiss to the inside of her knee. You’re a bit insulted by her words.

“I would never leave you unsatisfied..”

You mumble against her plush skin, taking your time as you softly, firmly press your open mouth against her thigh over and over again as you trail kisses further up her legs.

Here and there you bite softly, dragging your teeth across the sensitive flesh. You feel yourself turning into putty beneath her at every soft gasp that slips past her lips, one of her hands mindlessly toying with your hair.

You start to repeat the actions on her other thigh, wanting to lavish her with sweet kisses and worship her when she lets out a frustrated sigh. Agatha winds her fingers into your hair, slumping down even further and spreading her legs wider as she pushes your mouth against her waiting cunt. You groan, immediately parting your lips as you breathe her in eagerly.

“No teasing, sweetheart… You’re gonna be a good girl and give me exactly what I want, aren’t you?”

She coos down at you, soothingly rubbing her fingers against your scalp. Immediately you let out a needy noise against her and nod your head, desperate to please.

“Good fuckin girl.”

Her voice is low as you drag your tongue through her wet folds. She lets out a controlled, quiet noise, only loud enough for you to hear as you lick up her sweetness. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the taste of her heavy on your tongue.

You begin toying with her clit, first using your tongue to ghost over it in experimental patterns as you try to wind her up. Her chair creaks as she shifts a bit, hand tightening in your hair. 

You can’t get enough of the taste of her. Heavy and metallic and so good, you don't think it could ever be enough. You’d live between her thighs, eating and surviving off of nothing but her pussy for the rest of your life if you could. You make out to kiss the little bud, puckering your lips as you drag them over it before opening your mouth and sucking it between your lips. 

She groans at that, throwing her head back against the back of her seat as you flick your tongue along her clit in quick passes, groaning against her wet cunt as you do. You feel her arousal soaking your lips, and you want to lick up every sweet drop.

“Fuck, baby..”

Agatha curses, heavy breaths dropping from her lips as she looks down at you with lidded eyes. You look back up at her, squirming desperately from your place between her legs.

“You’re such a slut, just for me, hm? So desperate for me to fuck your mouth that you had to crawl under my desk and beg for it, hm?”

Agatha's voice is breathy and erratic as she rests one arm against her chair, canting her hips up against your waiting mouth, her hand buried in your hair and forcing you down and against her with each thrust. You groan against her cunt, breathing heavily as she grinds herself against your tongue. 

You just hold your tongue out for her, letting her guide you however she needs as she fucks herself against your mouth.

“Say it, say you’re my slut with your mouth full of my pussy..”

You groan at her words, nails biting into her calves as you gargle out the words that are muffled by her cunt. She laughs softly, dropping her hips back down onto the chair for a moment and pulling your head back. You heave for air, a stupid smile on your lips as you feel her wetness soaking your lips and chin.

“Say it again.”

Agatha demands, a sadistic grin on her features as she sharply pulls your head back by the fistfull of your hair. You can’t control the moan that bursts past your lips as the delicious sting settles across your scalp.

“I’m your slut, Agatha.. Just yours.. I belong to you..”

You manage to heave the words between breaths and she grins down at you with a satisfied smile on her lips.

“Good girl. Now, get back to work, slut..”

She demands, leaning back into her chair once again and you’re eagerly diving back between her soft thighs, warm and dewey with a thin layer of sweat. Her moans are more frequent now, soft and quiet and deep as they escape her lips. You suck her clit between your teeth gently, flicking your tongue over the nub as quickly as you can.

“Ooooh.. Yes..”

Agatha breathes out, jolting a bit as she raises her hips off of her seat, pressing your needy mouth harder against her wet cunt as she begins to rut against your tongue desperately. You moan into her, meeting each thrust, making sure each movement of your tongue on her clit is calculated and precise.

She gasps sharply, freezing and desperately smushing your face harder against her. You know she’s close, and with that you harshly suck on her clit, hands desperately pawing at her soft thighs as they squeeze around your head, her mouth hung open in a silent moan as she curls in on you, curses dropping from her lips.

Your whole world stops and she’s the only thing that exists as she seizes up, sharp gasps escaping her lips as her eyes pinch shut, body tensing all around you as she cums against your waiting mouth. You watch her with wide eyes, drinking in every little reaction.

A strand of her lovely brown hair sticks to the side of her face, her long, pale neck exposed. You just want to pepper kisses along every inch of her skin. The way her fingers are tightly gripping your hair burns your scalp, but you revel in the sting because it’s just an expression of her pleasure as she cums for you.

With one last relieved gasp her grip on your head loosens and she collapses into her chair, the wheels clanking as she throws her weight back down onto it. She starts breathily laughing, raising one hand to push her stray hairs behind her ears while she rubs soothing circles against your scalp with the other. 

“Ahh.. You’re right.. You never leave me unsatisfied. You’re so good for me, sweet girl..”

She coos, smiling lazily down at you before she leans forward, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. You hum happily, a lovesick grin on your lips.

“I’m always happy to be good for you.."

You smile up at her, resting a cheek on her soft, warm thigh. But the sweet moment is short lived, because your features drop and panic sets in when a firm knocking sounds from her office door.

[allthesmutl0vers]

Smutty Harry Potter Headcanons (F! Reader)

MDNI. 18+. Heavy Smut.

Requests Are Open- Please Send Requests

Request: Not a request, just drabble.

Summary: How the characters would react to you teasing them while wearing a short skirt.

Pairings: Harry Potter/F!Reader, Ron Weasley/F!Reader, George Weasley/F!Reader, Fred Weasley/F!Reader, Draco Malfoy/F!Reader.

TW: Smut, Sexual References, Fingering, Oral (M! and F! receiving), Dom/Sub Relationships, Edging, Primal Play, Choking, Claiming, Hair Pulling. (No use of Y/N)

Smut Below⬇️🌶️

Harry Potter

You’ve been teasing Harry all day, bending over just enough to barely give him a peak of the apex of your thighs. When he finally manages to corner you in the hallway, he pulls you into an empty classroom with a hand covering your mouth. 

“Shh, don’t want to go giving our secret away now, do you?” Harry chuckles darkly as his hand roams under the front of your skirt as he clutches you tightly from behind. “Mm-mm,” you shake your head, unable to speak under his hand. Harry groans as his fingers pull your panties to the side, slipping a finger between your folds and circling your clit. “So wet for me. Does teasing me get you off, little doe?” he whispers in your ear. You nod against his hand as he slips a finger in your entrance. “Then bend over the desk and spread your pretty thighs for me so I can give you what you’re so desperate for.”

Harry eats you out like a man starved, his tongue flicking and licking your clit, drawing out whimpers that, to anyone else, would make them think you’re dying. And in a sense, you are. The way he thrusts his fingers inside of you as he laps at your clit could send you to heaven or drag you to hell. Either way, you’re just praying he doesn’t stop.

Ron Weasley

Ron acts shy around others, but you know just how possessive he can be. And you intend to draw it out any way you can. You know how much he equally hates and loves your silk tennis skirt. He’s told you countless times never to wear it without tights to prevent anyone else from catching a glimpse at what’s his. So when you saunter down the stairs and sit on his lap with fishnets underneath it, you know you’re in for it. Good thing nobody is home at the burrow for the moment. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks as you sit down on his lap, facing the fireplace. You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, giving him the best innocent look you can as his hands grip your thighs. “Nothing at all,” you respond with a smirk. “Did you forget the rule for this skirt already, angel?” Ron teases. “You know not to wear this without stockings,” Ron warns you. “I’m wearing stockings,” You smile smugly. Ron chuckles darkly, and you know you have him right where you want him. But what you don’t expect is for Ron to reach under your skirt and rip your fishnets apart at your crotch. You let out a soft gasp as his hand cups your pussy. “Ron…” You whine. “My stockings,” Ron chuckles as his free hand wraps itself in your hair and pulls your head back to his shoulder. “Pathetic excuse for stockings,” he taunts as he thrusts two fingers into your entrance. “Now cum on my fingers, angel, and maybe I’ll buy you new ones.”

Ron isn’t gentle as he brings you right up to the edge and throws you over. Over. And over. And over again until you’re begging him to have mercy on you. But you knew what you were getting yourself into when you flaunted yourself in front of him, as he not so gently reminds you. Only when you’re a shaky, sweaty, whimpering mess does he finally withdraw his fingers, bringing them to his lips and sucking your cum off of his fingers and demanding you to change before his brothers get back. Because god forbid anyone else see the mess he turns you into.

George Weasley

George is always the life of the party. Especially when Gryffindor wins a quidditch match like they did today. It’s also a surefire way to know you are going to get a reward for being his favorite cheerleader. You grind your ass against his crotch as you dance and drink, feeling him growing harder under his pants. You know how much he loves when you dress a little slutty. He knows he doesn’t have to worry about other people looking because he made damn sure to ruin sex with anyone else. You bend over slightly, arching your back as you grind against him during an especially sultry part of the song. When he can’t take the teasing anymore, he drags you to his dorm, locking it and slamming you against the door as he smashes his lips to yours. 

“Merlin, woman. You drive me crazy,” he groans as he lifts your skirt. “Almost as crazy as this sweet pussy makes me,” he groans, kneeling in front of you and keeping you pressed against his door. He rips your panties down and makes you let out a loud gasp as he shoves his face between your thighs and licks a long swipe between your folds. “Georgie,” you moan as your eyes roll back and you grip his hair. George hums against your clit, sending a heavenly vibration right to your clit, bringing you right to the edge. You whimper at the loss of his tongue when he pulls back and stands up, licking your juices from his lips. “Impatient, aren’t we?” He taunts with a smirk as he pulls down his pants and kicks them off to the side. You nod and moan as he lifts your leg, and his tip pushes against your entrance. “Fuck, yes,” you moan as he thrusts inside of you, your eyes rolling back as his cock stretches you and hits that perfect spot inside. “Give me your eyes,” he moans as he pulls back and thrusts inside of you harder. You pull your hooded gaze to his eyes as he grips your leg harder. “That’s it, baby. Look at me as I bury my cock inside of you,” he pants. “Such a good girl.”

After he makes you cum, he lifts you without withdrawing his cock, sets you on his desk, and fucks you harder. You moan, practically scream, making him cover your mouth. As much as he loves to hear you scream, he loves to show what’s his, but nobody is allowed to hear the sounds you make when he makes you shatter around him two, three, four times. What he does like people to see? How you struggle to walk, let alone dance when you return back to the party.

Fred Weasley

Nobody can make detention fun. Nobody besides Fred, at least. You swear, sometimes you and he try to get detention in the forbidden forest just to get the chance to be chased around in the dark and plowed against the nearest tree once he catches you, and he always does. Tonight, you decided to make the punishment when he catches you even harder on yourself, wearing the shortest skirt in your wardrobe to tease him with on the walk down. Running through the woods, you wonder when he’ll catch you. He does every time, and this time is no different. But he’s extra rough on you tonight as he plows into you without mercy. 

Fred grunts as he holds your legs up, plowing into you as you clutch his shoulders. “Look what a pretty mess you are for me,” he moans as he thrusts into you again; you could swear his cock is ramming into your cervix with how deep it is. “Who’s pussy is this? Tell me, little one,” he moans as he grips your thighs with a bruising grip. “Yours,” you moan loudly. “Fuck, Freddie, it’s all yours,” you cry out. Fred moans as he brings you both right to the edge. He shifts, freeing one of his hands, and brings his fingers to your clit, rubbing fast circles as he continues to fuck you relentlessly. “Goddamn right, it’s mine. Now I want your screams. Give them to me, baby,” he moans as you clutch his robes. “Give me your screams as you cum on my cock,” he demands. His filthy words and the merciless way he fucks you send you right over the edge with him.

But he’s not nearly done with you yet; the night is young. He pulls you to your knees, shoves his cock into your mouth, and fucks your throat because that’s his, too. You love hearing him claim you, every part of you, as he takes you any and everywhere. After cumming down your throat, he makes you ride him, cumming inside of you again before he has finally had his fill, and you two can look for whatever thing you were supposed to find in this goddamn forest.

Draco Malfoy

Draco loves to fuck you before his quidditch matches and loves to know you’re dripping his cum as you watch and cheer for him from the stands. Today is no different besides the fact you’ve been teasing him all morning, bending over and twirling in the skirt he told you a million times to throw out, buying you new ones, but you can’t help how much it gets you off when he takes possession of you, jinxing anyone who dares to try to sneak a peek. Normally, he would take you to his dorm to fuck you before his game, taking his time and blocking anyone from hearing you with an enchantment. But not today. Today, he fucks you in the locker room, making you scream as he spears you with his cock after he comes down your throat. If you want to show off what’s his, he’ll make you show them just how good he makes you feel. 

“That’s it, princess,” he moans as he fucks you from behind, pinning your arms behind your back as you’re bent over the bench. “Let them hear just how much you love my cock buried in your tight pussy,” he demands, gripping your hair and pulling your head back with his free hand. A scream tears through your throat as your walls clench around his cock. “Fuck, yes! I love it!” you cry as mascara runs down your face. “What’s my fucking name?” He growls, releasing your hair to land a sharp swat on your ass. “Draco!” You cry as your ass stings, only serving to make you wetter. He pulls out to the tip and thrusts into you harder. “And who do you belong to?!” He taunts, making you whimper. “Fucking answer me,” he demands, swatting your ass again. “D-Draco!” you scream as your legs begin to shake and the tether winding tighter inside your core threatens to snap. Draco groans and tilts his head back. Normally, he’d kill someone for hearing your screams that are only meant for him, but right now, he’d have you scream in front of a microphone for the entire wizarding world to hear just how good he makes you feel. That he’s the only one who makes you feel so good. He flips you over, laying you down on the bench and thrusting back into you without remorse. “So pretty when you cry for me,” he taunts as he smudges the mascara running down your face before gripping your throat. “Now give me what I want,” he demands with dark, hooded eyes. You feel your walls clench around his throbbing cock as your back arches, and you grip the bench above your head. A scream tears through your throat as your whole body shakes, your orgasm ripping through you like a hurricane.

People stare at you, some whispering behind your back as you sit in the stands, watching Draco play. Any sensible person would be embarrassed that people heard them get fucking plowed and now have their boyfriend's cum dripping from their body, but not you. Maybe you two need to find some people who like to listen, maybe even watch, but certainly not touch. A shudder runs through you as you think about what Draco would do if someone tried to touch you while he was fucking you. You clench your thighs at the thought, would he kill them? Maybe. Maybe you should find out. God, what has he turned you into?

[tragedy-of-commons]

ivan x reader. wc: 1.1k. inspired by those fucked up teeth dreams! if you're squeamish, probably avoid reading. don't krill me alnst fandom i just think he's Cool and Interesting. based on vibes, possibly ooc. modern/actor au.

It was unlike Ivan to dream.

Before you came into his life and turned his servitude on its head with no regard for his balance, he was used to sleeping hard. The star would hit the pillow after a grueling but manageable day, only to wake up to his familiar alarm—only to rise and do it all over again.

Such was his life, and he had no reason to believe that’d change. He had no reason to believe he would experience any subconscious projections beyond nebulous memories of the slums, or the occasional object of terror that’d he shortly forget after waking.

But circumstances change. Environments change; Ivan’s home welcomed you, as did the telltale rabbiting of his heart. When you slipped into bed with him that first night, awkward but sweet, he had to bid himself to relax. Actors are supposed to adapt, to transform and flourish under the circumstantial, so that’s what he did. Ivan selfishly held you close to his chest, an indulgence he didn’t want to spoil himself with, but still did so anyway. 

In his mind, to enjoy that guilty pleasure—the privilege of you—he had to do something in return. It’s always about doing something in return with him, every interaction mentally catalogued and carefully executed so Ivan never owed anything to anyone. He learned young that equivalent exchanges rule the world, that every selfless gesture was expected to be repaid in kind. 

And Ivan wanted to do right by you. More than that, he did not wish to be your debtor; Ivan does not have much to give other than his loyalty, which will still someday lose its value. So he savored the moment.

When you’d fallen asleep, putting all of your stock and trust into him, he’d gingerly maneuvered into another position, one far more favorable. He’d rolled over on his side, facing the door to the bedroom. However in doing so, the dark-haired actor had no choice but to untangle himself from you, unable to hold the person he couldn’t yet comfortably call a partner.

He remembers missing your warmth. But ultimately it was better to face the door, to stand guard… to protect you. From what? It’s hard to say, though the heady satisfaction buzzing under his skin affirmed it was the right thing to do. It felt more sustainable to enact some distance in the interest of looking out for you. 

He didn’t want to burn you in the maw of his embrace, even if he sometimes thought about it. To abstain is to be noble. And to torture himself, to deprive himself of love—that is just how things are to go. Ivan is fine with that. 

But then he dreamt, really dreamt, for the first time in years. 

Your steady hands were planted on his shoulders while you looked him square in the eye, unblinking. The vibrant luster of your irises easily reflected the inky dullness of his own, making you seem more like a mirror instead of a three-dimensional being. Uncanny. You didn’t smile like you normally would, only holding him in place. Pain-that-wasn’t-quite-pain began to needle at his gums, and that’s when you spoke.

“They’re hurting you, Ivan,” you’d whispered, grasping his chin with a pinched brow. He was unable to speak as you tapped against his square jaw, rambling with a gentle type of determination. “Rotting… they’re rotting. We need to get them out.”

His dream self was overcome with understanding. His teeth, the ones then beginning to whistle with agony down the nerve, were rotting. The sensation was forceful, like the most miniscule shift of his tongue or the tiniest provocation of his vocal cords could send his molars tumbling out of his mouth by the root. He itched in a way that he couldn’t scratch by his lonesome, with no words at his aid.

(It is true that Ivan’s mouth has always felt too full, a fang or two roguishly protruding outward, but it goes beyond that. When he would smile for each camera shutter, each sponsorship and each recording, it felt more like he was snarling, doling out a cheap imitation of joy when he had no earthly idea of the concept. Always, when the star grinned, it was a lie. Fortunately for him, beasts with pearly whites and uniform eyes can still be domesticated into well-loved pets.)

The room was stark white, a sterile nightmare. While he struggled to think, you’d materialized a pair of rusty, red and black pliers into thin air. Even at the sight of them, Ivan does not remember recoiling. You were going to remove the rot, the miasmic burden—he knew this for a fact. And if anyone were to attempt to fix him, he’d want it to be you. It needed to be you. 

“Do you trust me? You’ll feel better, I promise.”

He could only nod passively as you wrenched open his mouth, probing around and clamping the plier’s metal teeth around any particularly egregious offenders. It hurt, something akin to mercury boiling angrily inside a thermometer, or a kettle reaching its shrill fever pitch. He does not recall screaming or reacting, even as you’d twisted and yanked to your heart’s content. Ivan was allowing you to remove the wretched thorn from his paw, paralyzed from what he could not possibly imagine.

This is how things are to go, he thought. At least you’re the one doing it. If you’re going to hurt someone, let it be me. I’ll take what I can get. 

Your actions were severely disjointed. You’d be pulling one moment, then his central and lateral incisors would be in the palm of your hand the next, not a speck of blood staining the specimens. Then you smiled fully while you made sure he could never smile again. You: merciful, complicated, confusing, and too good for Ivan.  

When he woke, since dreams often end abruptly, it was in a cold sweat. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” you laughed. Your hair was mussed from the most gratifying of rests, and your voice was warm, addictive. 

The bedroom door stood wide open, sunlight streamed through the fluttery curtains, and you meandered over to his side of the mattress to greet him. “I made breakfast. How long was that instant pancake mix sitting in your pantry, anyway? Up, up, I put chocolate chips in your share!”

“Good morning to you too,” the star remarked, scrambling to conceal his lingering discomfort. It took a moment for him to recalibrate, to suppress. “And it couldn’t have been there for long. I went shopping with Sua last…”

“Last…?”

“...month.”

You snorted. “My point exactly. Come on!”

Then grabbing his hand and pulling him up (like he wasn’t the one doing all the heavy-lifting), you saw fit to bless him with a kind reminder. You did so in the same tone you always used—sunny and rich—but the words you bestowed upon him next were deeply knowing:

“Just don’t forget to brush your teeth after. You don’t want to get cavities, do you?”

It was unlike Ivan to dream. But then you came along. 

[chxrrysangel]

Thinking really hard about Mr. Logan Howlett this week. Haven’t even watched Deadpool & Wolverine yet but the Hugh Jackman renaissance is making me FERAL.

ANYWAYS

Logan has always been a hands on kind of guy. Always the “better to do it yourself than trust someone else” you know? So when your dear next neighbor has some car issues, he refuses to call up the local mechanic.

It’s summer, 90+ degrees outside and humid like a motherfucker. On what’s typically a quiet morning during days like this, too hot for even the local kids to venture outside, you hear some clinking and what sounds oddly enough like a drill. Peeking through the curtains, your eyes scan the mostly empty street to see Logan bent over the hood of his car.

And he’s shirtless.

Even from this distance, you can see his flushed skin glisten with sweat as he works. You fall into a daze, how could you not? It would take being blind to not notice how hot your neighbor was, and your brain never failed to forget it. His jeans hung somewhat low on his hips, hugging his strong thighs in a way that made anyone salivate with need. His back muscles were a sight to behold, straining and shifting as he worked.

He wiped the sweat off his brow, turning around to lean against the bumper. You panicked, ducking your head out of his sight. You angled yourself in a way that would hopefully obscure your compromising position, decreasing your chances of a potential complaint. From this new position, you found it even harder to move away from the window. He was perfect chiseled and toned, almost as if he was crafted by the gods themselves.

“Fucking hell,” you whispered.

The longer you stared was the more flushed you felt, unable to pull away as he moved to work under the car. The two of you hadn’t spoken more than a minute at a time, but his charming demeanor quickly enticed you. Just then, you got an idea.

Scrambling to the kitchen and almost slipping on the hardwood, you gathered your ingredients. By the looks of it, he’d be outside for quite a while. What kind of neighbor would you be if you didn’t offer him a drink?

A little bit later, you stood in front of the mirror trying to work up some courage. Giving yourself a little pep talk and a little minute shot of liquid courage, you ventured outside with a tray and the brightest smile you could muster. Upon hearing your footsteps and the soft clinks of ice, he turned around before you had the chance to call out.

And he smiled, canines on full display and cheekbones puffy with glee.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Your cheeks heat up at his compliment, feeling bashful.

“Stop, you’re too kind.”

“Never that,” he retorted with a wink. He points to the strawberry printed tray in your arms.

“Some of that for me?”

“As a matter of fact, it is. Thought you could use a drink.” He gushed, taking the tall glass cup gratefully. You set down the pitcher and tray on his tool kit, planning to come back for it later.

“Well uh…call me if you need anything else yeah?”

He didn’t respond at first, choosing that moment to make your escape before you ran your mouth.

“Wait.” You paused mid-step, turning back to face him.

“I could use some company…if you don’t mind that is.”

“No, no. I’d like that,” you responded, stumbling over your words.

“Yeah?,” he said with a boyish surprise in his tone. You assured him with a nod and smile.

“Lemme get you a seat then. Be right back.” You watched as he wiped the grease off his hands, jogging past you to get a chair from inside. Even covered in sweat and grime, he was hottest man you’ve ever seen.

[erwinsvow]

ALL MINE

you had once thought rafe was bad at being a boyfriend. turns out, he was even worse at being an ex.

you couldn't pinpoint where it had all gone wrong in your relationship—mostly between days spent alone and nights wondering where he was and what he was doing, even who he was with. you felt constantly out of the loop, and though you tried to make it work for as long as you could, there was no denying that it wasn't working.

you thought you knew what you wanted, what you needed, when you told rafe the two of you needed to stop whatever this was. you could hardly call it a relationship anymore.

maybe some part of you felt happy when he tried to fight for you, when he wasn't letting you go that easily. but you had won in the end—thinking you were going to walk away scot-free and find some guy who would take you on dates and treat you right.

that had been two whole months ago—and you had tried. you'd been on three dates in that time, somehow each one worse than the last and never, ever leading to a second one. everything felt so forced and robotic—though you had never felt that way with rafe.

no, you and him had been electric from the start. that's why it was even harder to stop thinking about him, to push away every stray thought that crept into your mind in the middle of the night. you resist every urge to send a text or dial his number that you've memorized and are unable to forget.

if only someone would tell rafe to do the same. his contact in your phone—a simple r and nothing else—lights up your screen much too often for comfort. everytime you see it, your mind thinks about what it used to look like, his name spelled out with a blue heart and a photo of him that you had to take off his contact because staring at it for too long led you into temptation.

at first it had been fine. how are you? followed by one-word answers and then something that made your heart burn in your chest. good. gotta make sure you're ok.

you should have told him two months ago that how you're doing is no longer any of his concern—that this concern should have appeared when you were his girlfriend. instead you reply with a thank you and turn your phone off, because no matter how much you want yourself to hate rafe cameron, you never have and you never will.

the texts had recently been getting more frequent—something else that should have been alarming. instead you find yourself staring at your phone, biting your lip and wondering what rafe was doing right now that he stopped and thought of you.

it's terrible—it's akin to torture, the worst form. you slip down the rabbithole and start replying mere minutes after he's sent you a message—because you never keep rafe waiting. never have, never will.

the third date since the breakup is a worse than the other two put together, and it's your own fault, you should have never suggested the country club for a harmless lunch. your boyfriend—shit. your ex-boyfriend spots you from half a mile away, only waits for you to smile politely and step away to the bathroom before confronting the boy you're with.

when you get back, your date cuts lunch short, dodging out and staring back at someone with a touch too much fear in his eyes. you don't want to know what rafe said. you can barely get yourself to think about why he did it.

like always, you go home alone. there hasn't been anyone you've met since your breakup that you've liked enough to bring home, or rather, dared to bring home.

quarter to eleven on a saturday night. you should be at the party right now, the one that everyone on your side of the island is at, but you can't find the will to go. you'd gotten dressed up—hair and makeup perfect and pretty, just for a night in. a thought rushes through your mind—one you really wish had just stayed away.

you've done your hair how rafe likes, your makeup the way he always commented that looked nice. even the dress you'd picked out was one of his favorites, now perched across a chair, though you can distinctly remember the last time it had been dropped on the floor of rafe's bedroom.

and though you really, really shouldn't, when your phone buzzes with a call, and that familiar number dances across the screen, you answer.

you bring the phone to your ears, bringing your knees in and curling tightly into yourself. your back is perched up against the headboard, you watch goosebumps dance across the skin of your thighs. you don't stay anything yet.

"hey, kid." you wish you could melt through your bed, through the floor and into the ground. that would be a better fate than what you're about to subject yourself to.

"what'd you want, rafe?" it comes out too quickly, too harshly. you only half meant it—but it's too late to retract the statement. with bated breath you wait, wondering what's to come.

"what? can't check in on my girl?" the way he says it, you almost believe it, almost delude yourself into thinking you're still rafe's and rafe's still yours.

"i'm not your girl anymore, remember?"

"you should be."

you shut your eyes, eyes feeling surprisingly wet. you blink away the tears, not really upset but more... hurt. hurt by what he did, what you went through. hurt by what he's doing now. but you don't stop and hang up the call, like you should. you listen carefully, the faint noises in the background that sound like rafe went to the party you were supposed to be at tonight.

"are you drunk, rafe?" you ask it with too much concerning pouring into your voice.

"nah, kid. don't worry about me."

you pause again. you should really, really shut up.

"i always worry about you." you hear a rush of breath—half a laugh, half a sigh. rafe's probably smiling right now, happy that he got you to finally cave.

"m'fine. listen, i-"

"no," you interrupt, heart beating quickly and not sure if you can handle what he's about to say. "don't. just go back to the party. have fun. hang up and we'll both stop thinking about each other."

"i only came here to come find you," rafe says, and now you're the one letting out a shuddery breath, wondering if it would be better if you just ended the call and went to bed. "c'mon kid. there's nothin' i could do to stop thinkin' about you. i-i know i've been the worst. i'm tryna do better, okay? i'm-"

"rafe?" you ask, suddenly breathless and all too impatient to get him to stop talking.

"yeah?"

"you wanna come over?"

[favfics13]

Seventeen Recommendations Part 4 (2025)

Amnesia by @sailorsoons

Summary: Choi Seungcheol has never been the type to commit to relationships - casual is more his thing. You’re fine with that - except you and Seungcheol seem to be terrible at casual when it comes to one another. 

Whispers of Desire by @cherriegyuu

Summary:when you cut a deal with the demon king, the man who shows up to help is nothing like you imagined

Up In Flames by @shadowkoo

Summary: When your sister calls with an emergency, you drop everything to house-sit while she’s out of town. What she forgets to mention is that her fiancé’s friend, a handsome stranger who might have saved your life earlier, is already expecting to stay there too. Awkwardly sharing the space, you manage to get through two weeks with Seungcheol—only to unexpectedly cross paths again when he saves you from another dangerous situation outside your therapist’s office. Seungcheol, a wildland firefighter, is back in the city taking his leave and debating whether to join Station 17 or return home. While sorting out his own issues, he keeps finding himself in situations where he has to save you—the fiery, stubborn little sister of his best friend’s fiancée who has a terrible habit of calling him the most obnoxious nicknames ever. Despite your resistance to being rescued (and his denial of how much you affect him), the sparks between you two continue to ignite. As you grow closer, it’s only a matter of time before everything goes up in flames.

Camera Man by @smileysuh

Summary: He’s this big, strong, business major and frat president- but right now, he’s putty in your hands… and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling extremely powerful from this.

You Think You Might by @daechwitatamic

Summary: Seungcheol agrees to be your fake boyfriend at your sister’s destination wedding, under the condition that it “stays there”. You didn’t expect it to hurt when he holds you to that promise.

Tumble Day by @shina913

Summary: Sure, a man doing chores is hot. But a man who does the laundry, folds it, and puts it away? Absolutely irresistible.

XOXO, Yoon Jeonghan by @svtswhorehouse

Synopsis: with your it girl reputation on the line in regards to the latest gossip girl blast, you have no other choice but to own your mistakes and fall at the feet of the very person behind your impending doom.

Befriending Tigers by @nothoughtsjustfic

Summary: “You won’t admit it to anyone, but you’re pretty enamoured with the tiger striped father-son duo from the very first moment.”

Hanging By A Moment by @haologram

Synopsis: it's been a few years since you've been home for your birthday, and wonwoo can't wait to see you...right?

Slacking Off by @goldenhourology

Summary: being technologically averse, yet a complete control freak to your core, you tend to annoy senior IT specialist, jeon wonwoo, to no end. but after an apology brings you two closer together, wonwoo finds himself reaching out to you more often than not. on and off slack. despite what you two had originally perceived, you find yourself thrown into feelings that neither of you could've ever prepared for.

Lip Tint Stains And Hair Ties by @shineesbackbitches

Summary: “He locked his gaze in front of him, unable to gather the wits to gauge your reaction. His round glasses had slipped further down his nose than he preferred them, but he made no effort to correct their resting place. Wonwoo’s vision had always been complete garbage, and the time he spent focused on video games had not served his eyesight for the better. His glasses were cute though, and you’d told him as much the first time he wore them around you. Overall, he felt neutral about his frames, but being able to clearly see the board at the front of the classroom, the leaves on trees, and the smaller details of your face he hadn’t noticed without them were enough to convince him to wear them consistently. (“Since when did you have like, individual eyelashes?” “You mean like, how everyone does?” “… Huh.” “You knew people have individual lashes. Wonwoo, you knew people have individual lashes, right?”)”

Warning Signal by @hannieoftheyear

Summary :In a treacherous turn of events, your most recent mission gets tangled with Wonwoo's, the last person you'd want to partner up with. As the lives of your targets get more and more intertwined, and your plan gets more complicated, memories of the past and feelings you thought you could put aside threaten to ruin the mission.

No Face by @smileysuh

Summary. Wonwoo is even more gorgeous than you’d ever imagined the anonymous No Face being, and this time, when you close your eyes to listen to the cam boy moan, you imagine your history partner above you, his hand down your pants as he rubs you closer and closer to the edge. 

Glass Towers by @mr-cha-n

Summary: City lights are beautiful, but they're nothing compared to the spark between a hopelessly optimistic architect and his no-nonsense boss. He hopes.

Cinnamon by @daechwitatamic

Summary: You finally decide to try and move on after years of waiting for Mingyu to return your feelings. But when you start bringing your new boyfriend around more often, things with Mingyu get... difficult.

What Do I Call You by @haologram

Synopsis: your best friend is a man of many facets - a creative architecture student, a skilled football player, a wonderful friend and a sought-after lover. not that he'd ever truly glance anyone's way, especially not when his heart has always been set on you.

Dessert First by @highvern

summary: You've got a great life. Your wedding planning business is booming, your clients are great, and you're finally over your ex-boyfriend after years of pining. Or you are, until the universe decides to test if those three things are actually true.

Glimpse Of Us by @gyubakeries

Still Yours by @cherrynpink

Save The Date by @goldenhourology

Summary: 5 weddings in one year. 5 dates you saved for you and your boyfriend to attend — before he cheated. and now, you had to force your best friend, vernon, to go with you. but after losing a bet, mingyu agrees to take vernon’s place and be your date. this wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go, but you guess you could settle going with your only one-night-stand from college.

The Admirer Was Right in Front of You by @mylovesstuffs

Summary: Mingyu’s been in love with you forever but you’ve never seen him that way, or so he thinks. So he writes you anonymous letters, sends gifts, leaves clues—seven days of hope that you’ll catch on without him spelling it out for you. But every time you get close, you guess everyone but him. 

Clarity by @hannieoftheyear

Summary: Mingyu doesn't want to pay you any mind. To him, you're just another girl that'll get her heart broken by his dumb best friend. Why would he care, right? He shouldn't care about the crying sounds he hears from his bedroom when his friend stands you up for the girl he's actually in love with. And he shouldn't be getting close to you. He shouldn't dread the day his friend decides to end things with you and bring someone else home. He shouldn't be wishing to have met you first.

Winner Takes It All by @cheers-to-you-th

Summary: It's no secret that Kim Mingyu is a whore. The question is, why won't he fuck you?! or Your journey of attempting to seduce your friend, Kim Mingyu

Apartment no.17 by @kwnnies

Summary: moving to a new apartment seemed like an exciting thing, a breath of fresh air maybe; only then your peace is disturbed by the likes of an old friend and his extremely attractive roommate.

On The Clock by @sailorsoons

SUMMARY: Modern problems call for modern solutions, including naming a random stranger in the book store as your boyfriend to avoid an embarrassing encounter with your ex. The problem? The stranger is Vernon and he’s not supposed to be a stranger at all - he’s your coworker, and now everyone at the office - including your ex - thinks you’re dating. 

Vice;Grip by @daechwitatamic

Summary: You both knew why you were there. You both knew what you needed out of it: just sex, just fun. The just of it failed to last. You know precisely the first time it was different, the first time it wasn’t for fun. You needed the same things as always: his mouth hot on your skin, his hands roaming, the feeling of him emptying your mind and pushing every bad feeling out like there wasn’t room for them anymore. But for the first time, you didn’t want those things for enjoyment. You wanted them as a salve. Make it not hurt, you could have asked him. Or, at least, make it hurt in a way I choose. 

Objection, Your Honor by @mylovesstuffs

Carat Bay by @camandemstudios

Cherry F(l)avoured by @gyuhao5

Summary: Whatever Seungcheol has, Jeonghan has.

[starlazergazer]

Figure Something Out

Pairing: Anakin x Reader

Request: I was wondering if you could make a enemies to lover where Anakin is madly in love with reader but wont admit it since he likes to mock and annoy her but the reader doesnt, like there are but they arent as strong as Anakins. So as time passes she starts to catch feelings for him and ends in fluff but its a little angsty too yk

Warnings: Swearing, Anakin being a bit of dick

Word Count: 7.5k (sorry not sorry we love a slow burn enemies/academic rivals to lovers)

A/N: Check the blog for a little update if you want but I really hope this was worth the wait! As always please please let me know what you think!

Your eyes bounced fervently back and forth between your master’s and Anakin’s, not even bothering to hide the shock you were sure was etched into your expression. “You can’t be serious”

“Do I look like I’m joking” came your master’s quick reply, his tone alone enough to scold you for your loss in decorum, your posture snapping up reflexively as you schooled your face back to a more natural expression, unable to keep yourself from getting defensive.

“I just mean-“ the hurried deflection rolled off your tongue before you could stop it, your master’s unamused glare enough to keep the words from fully coming out. Taking a deep breath, you tried to better control yourself before you continued. “he’s a padawan, same seniority as me how could he train me?”

“He’s also standing right here” Anakin’s gruff voice proved he was just as thrilled about this assignment as you, though you barely spared him a glance, keeping your gaze locked onto your master’s, a silent plea for him to take it back.

“Padawan Skywalker is the best padawan with a saber by leagues I think he could be of great help to you” And you knew that tone your master used here, one he reserved to tell you he was done discussing the matter.

Dejectedly you finally let your gaze slip over to Anakin’s, offering him a tight-lipped smile “I appreciate your help Padawan Skywalker” you nearly choked on the words, having to force them out of your throat.

Anakin in response said nothing, his arms crossed defensively over his chest as he let his eyes rake your figure quickly, letting your words hang uncomfortably in the air until your master finally broke the silence.

“Truly padawan Skywalker we appreciate everything you do for us” He offered a small nod, clapping Anakin on the back.

“Of course master Koon” and you didn’t miss the way he offered your master a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, nor the way he was happy to return a comment to your master’s thanks but not your own. The two of you were already off to a great start to what was bound to be a very short apprenticeship.

With a small nod back in return Master Koon took his leave, leaving you and Anakin alone in the hallway, you looking up at the padawan expectantly, him pointedly avoiding your gaze as much as possible.

“Look” you drew his attention back to you with a sigh “neither of us want to be doing this so how about we just forget this and go our separate ways?”

He raised an eyebrow up at you in response, clearly unimpressed by your proposed solution “I told Master Koon I would help”

“And how noble of you to do so” you replied with a huff, crossing your arms over your chest to match his posture “but since you clearly want to spend as much time with me as I do you this felt mutually beneficial”

“I’ve seen you fight” he responded back with a small shake of his head “you very obviously do need the help”

“Believe me you’ve made it abundantly clear what you think of my fighting skills in training” you replied with a bitter laugh.

“When it takes your opponent less than a minute to get your saber out of your hand it’s hard to keep my comments to myself”

“It does not-“ and you cut yourself off before you could properly blow up, Anakin always having this weird affect on you, pushing you over the edge with little more than a tap. You weren’t letting him get to you that easily this time. With a deep breath you tried to collect yourself “Fine, when do you want to start?”

Anakin paused for a moment, doing nothing but survey you, probably curious as to why you hadn’t started biting his head off yet, but nonetheless continued “after dinner tonight, now come on we have battle strategies with master Kenobi”

“You were asked to help me train with my lightsaber, doesn’t mean you have to walk me to class from now on” you huffed but followed him down the hallway nonetheless.

“Then start jogging and we’ll call this training too” he answered with a shrug.

-

You sat back trying to listen to Obi-wan’s lecture, finding yourself for the first time ever in this class unable to pay attention to the lecture, instead your focused was solely on the person next to you.

Anakin has spent the last several years making his feelings towards you abundantly clear. If the chiding remarks, the mocking comments, the downright insults were anything to go by then you could easily say that he didn’t seem to like you that much. And you had to say by this point the feeling was mutual.

He’d spent all of his time in this class in particular sitting on the other side of the room, pointedly the chair that was just about as far away from you as possible, something you were sure the rest of the padawan’s had picked up on by this point. And that would explain why now that he not only showed up to class with you in tow but took a seat next to your usual one the entire rooms attention seemed to subtly shift in your direction.

Not that the room’s attention wasn’t usually in his direction if you were being honest. Anakin was the jedi council’s golden boy, the prophetic child that would bring balance to the force, as well as being a hell of a fighter with his light saber, and if you were being totally objective he wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes. All of this meant he had a natural sort of charisma that seemed to draw the unconscious attentive weight of a room in his direction, a weight that now sat squarely on your shoulders as well.

This new attention combined with Anakin’s incessant knee bouncing meant your focus was on just about anything but the lecture at hand.

“You know you don’t need to babysit me in every other part of jedi training” you whispered over to him, Anakin’s knee bouncing harmlessly against yours as he leaned in to listen and you fought the urge to pull your own back. Afterall this was your desk you weren’t about to contort yourself so he could be more comfortable.

“Is this why you need my help?” he responded with an annoying smirk, leaning in even more as he whispered “because you struggle to pay attention in class?”

You narrowed your eyes back at him in response “I’ll have you know-“

“Padawan Y/L/N, Skywalker” Obi-wan’s unamused voice broke through your whisper sharply, freezing you in place, your face now uncomfortably close to Anakin’s as every eye turned towards the two of you “is there something you would like to share with the class”

“no Master” Anakin answered quickly, righting himself just as you did.

“Perhaps some insight on the battle then?” Obi-wan goaded, gesturing to the holomap before him, amusement sparkling in his eyes as he watched his padawan squirm beneath his gaze.

“Well I-“ you could hear the lost tone in Anakin’s voice as he desperately searched for something to say, you having half a mind to let him sit in the hot seat before you let your eyes roam over the map, happy to see that you recognized the battle Obi-wan was walking you through.

“The republic’s army comes from behind” you offered before things could get too awkward, feeling Anakin’s gaze snap in your direction as you spoke “on that ridge over there, flanking the enemy forcing them to surrender”

Obi-wan’s gaze turned to yours with a warm smile as he nodded, no doubt knowing you would know the answer even if you hadn’t been paying complete attention, before he flicked it back to his padawan, raising his eyebrows slightly as he spoke “very good padawan Y/L/N”

He held Anakin’s gaze for a moment longer, an unspoken conversation happening between the two of them before Obi-wan continued lecture like usual, turning back to face the rest of the room.

Taking the opportunity you leaned back towards Anakin again “if there’s one thing I don’t need your help with, it’s this class”

The smirk made another appearance on his mouth as he looked down at you, but this one felt different than before, warmer somehow, as he nodded “noted princess”

-

Whatever confidence you had bolstered from battle strategies quickly left you the minute you got to saber training.

Anakin was already in the center of the room, feet planted squarely on the mat as he spun his saber effortlessly around his body, concentration etched onto his face though you could tell even from across the room that he was just having fun with it. What you wouldn’t give to be able to whip your saber around with such precision that it seemed almost careless.

“You gonna come fight or having too much fun back there enjoying the show?”

You detested the amusement in his voice as you realized you’d spent much too long staring at him from the doorway. Unable to think of much of a response, you immediately cast your gaze down to your shoes, blindly making your way towards the mat, unclipping the saber from your belt.

“What no training sticks?” You asked with a bitter laugh as you turned on your lightsaber, giving it a half hearted twirl in your hand as you set your stance.

“Don’t worry I’ll try not to hurt you” he winked back as he did the same, making you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

You waited for him to make the first attack, the two of you spinning in a circle around one another, each waiting for the other to strike first.

Not once did that stupid smirk fall from his face, frustration rising more and more within you with each step until you couldn’t take it anymore, deciding to suck it up and make the first move.

Swinging your saber down at him Anakin deflected the blow with little more than a flick of his wrist, barely moving from his original position no doubt in an attempt to show you how easily he could win if he wanted to. Fine, if that’s how he wants to play it.

You barely gave yourself time to recover before making another swing, Anakin deflecting with another simple movement, but you were back at it. Blow after blow Anakin’s saber met yours at every thrust effortlessly, but still you push forward, kept getting closer, not even noting that Anakin never bothered to take a step back. Not noticing how close you got to him until his empty hand shot out mid swing, capturing your wrist and disarming you with a twist, your saber now held tightly in his hand.

Before you could even comprehend what had happened he yanked hard on your arm, twisting you wildly until your back came crashing against his chest, one arm holding your saber and wrapping around your waist to pin you against him the other pressing his blade right up against your throat.

You could’ve screamed in frustration, at how easily he had pinned you, at how effortlessly he seemed to be able to block everything you threw at him, at how close and vulnerable you were now that he had you now pinned against him.

“What is this some game for you? Are you just toying with me?” You spat back at him, not bothering to hide the anger in your voice.

You heard a deep chuckle from behind you, could feel it ruminate up through his chest as it pressed you even further into his chest before he spoke, voice low and right in your ear, his breath tickling the shell of it with each word “I’m teaching you princess. Now use that big brain of yours and figure something out”

And you could’ve laughed at his so called advice, at how easy it is to tell someone to figure something out when you didn’t have a saber against your throat.

Instead you decided you were done fucking around.

Picking your foot up you slammed it down hard on the jedi’s left foot at the same time rearing your head back harshly to make contact with his nose, both attacks catching Anakin enough by surprise that he released his hold on you, stumbling back and releasing his grip on your saber enough that you could slip it from his grasp, pivoting on the spot and pointing the tip of the blade right at the jedi’s throat.

Anakin in response held his nose in his hand, pinching the bridge of it as he completely ignored your saber pointed at him, giving you a disappointed glare from overtop of it.

He sniffed and wiggled his nose before shaking his head and bating off your saber with his own half-heartedly “you know that trick won’t work anywhere but here”

“Good thing I don’t need it to work anywhere but here” you returned with a smirk, stepping back a few feet before dropping back into a fighting stance.

Anakin offered nothing more than a disappointed sigh before he dropped into a stance of his own, giving his nose one last check before he launched forward to attack.

You had no problem dodging each of his blows, your body always out of the way of the arc of his saber. The issue arose when it came to deflecting them. Swing after swing your saber was always there to meet his but the effort of stopping each of the jedi’s much more powerful swings had your arms shaking after mere minutes, your feet scrambling back to try and avoid the brunt of each blow as much as possible.

Anakin, however, seemed to zero in on your weakness immediately, never relenting as he swung again and again. You in response started to try and redirect each blow, hoping that redirecting the power of the swing would take the load off your arms.

That was until his saber seemed to hit yours at just the right speed, just the right angle, that the force of it reverberated down to your hands, your grip faltering for just a second but it was enough to have the cool metal of the hilt of your saber slip from your grasp.

Anakin hit immediately with another blow, effectively knocking your saber out of your hands.

You watched dejectedly as your saber slid out from your grasp and flew across the room. With a small sigh you held your empty hands up defensively ready for Anakin to sheath his saber and start listing off all the things you did wrong.

Instead you watched as Anakin stayed rigid in his position, lightsaber still held in front of you, knees still bent ready to strike.

“I get it, you win, I’ll get ‘em next time” you pushed mock enthusiasm into your voice as you started to make your way off the mat in the direction you saw your saber go when a blue column of light swung down just in front of you, barring your movement.

“So in an actual battle your plan is just to give up when you lose your lightsaber?” Anakin’s chiding voice had you gritting your teeth as your head snapped in his direction, little more than an amused smirk on his face as he talked “maybe offer your neck to the sith for an easy decapitation”

“No I’ll-“ frustrated words died in your throat as you sought an end for your sentence. You were tired, sweat had your robes sticking to your torso uncomfortably and every muscle you had burned, now was not the time for his mind games.

“You’ll what?” he pushed forwards, retracting his lightsaber so it now was held in that defensive position you were now all to used to seeing him in.

“I don’t know I’ll figure something out” you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Then figure something out” he goaded with a raised brow before striking, his saber moving slightly slower than you knew he was capable of, giving you plenty of time to side step out of the way.

“Okay I get it” you called back to him as you dodged another swing, taking a step back towards the edge of the mat “you’ve made your point”

“I’ve made my point when you stop thinking of this as just training” he shot back with another swing of his saber, pushing forward forcing you to take another step back “this isn’t just to get through training so you can advance in the jedi ranks this is about survival” another swing, another dodge and another step back “this is about making sure you stand a chance out on the battle field” you felt the floor beneath your heels start to give way, your toes balancing on the edge of the mat “this isn’t some game Y/N”

You felt your irritation grow within you with each word. You knew this wasn’t some game, you had been outside of the walls of the temple, you had been on a battle field, you knew you needed help with your fighting skills but who was he to decide after one day that you weren’t taking this seriously enough.

You watched as he set up for his next attack, as his foot landed far out in front of him as he lunged forward, the whole world seeming to slow around you as you side stepped the saber, Anakin’s hand sailing past you effortlessly. Without a second thought you seized his wrist, giving it a small twist in the wrong direction as you pulled him forward with it, effectively knocking the jedi off his balance.

Before he could realize what was happening Anakin was sailing forward, past you, to the ground below as you pivoted around to face him from atop the mat, his lightsaber now clutched firmly in your grasp.

Spinning slightly in the air so that his shoulder first made contact with the floor Anakin slid a few inches on the ground, coming to a stop on his back and looking up at you only to see his own lightsaber pointed down at his throat.

“Do you want to offer up your neck for an easy decapitation now?”

And to your surprise you heard nothing back but a laugh. A sound you didn’t think Anakin Skywalker was even capable of.

“That was good Y/N”

You felt your feet faulter beneath you, your knees nearly giving out, was that a compliment?

Your mind was still reeling as you shut down his saber and dropped it to the ground next to you, because Anakin Skywalker did not compliment you. Tease, chastise, bully sure he did all of those things but never compliment. And he certainly didn’t smile at you like he was doing now.

It was a weird sight to see, Anakin grinning from the ground below you, eyes twinkling slightly as his whole face changed with it, and to your horror you found a part of you liking the way it looked on him, as he extended his hand out to you.

Before you could even think better of it you reached out and grabbed his hand, helping to haul him to his feet, ignoring the slight tingle his touch left on your skin, blaming the way your cheeks felt hot beneath his gaze on the exertion of fighting him.

“You may never overpower your opponent but you’re fast” Anakin continued on as if nothing had changed, dusting himself off, the hint of a smile still playing on his lips as he talked “use that, dodge until you have them making sloppy attacks then strike as soon as you can”

It took you too long to notice that he was waiting for you to say something, little more coming out of your mouth than a half-hearted “yeah” that had his brows drawing in confusion.

Stooping slightly, he came down to your eyelevel, nose nearly close enough to touch your own, and for a brief moment staring deeply into each eye before shaking his head softly “that was probably too much for today wasn’t it”

Still you didn’t respond, not sure if you could’ve if you tried, for some reason unable to pull your gaze from Anakin as he looked at you, fluffy hair framing his face perfectly as if you hadn’t spent the last two hours dueling, as if you weren’t drenched in sweat.

Anakin frowned back in response, a single hand coming out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before he could think better of it. Then bending down and picking up his lightsaber from where you had dropped it “get some rest princess”

He spoke softly, softer than you had ever really heard him speak before he started to make his way towards the exit, leaving you standing on the edge of the mat, before he called out “I mean it, you did well today”

It was only after he left that it dawned on you, he had used your actual name.

-

Maybe it was naive of you to think that things could change so quickly.

That all it took was one decent lesson from him and the two of you could seamlessly slip into a weird sort of friendship.

Maybe you just wanted to believe you could put everything behind you so easily that you assumed he wanted to do the same.

You’d heard people gush about Anakin Skywalker before. About how helpful he could be, how nice, how charming.

You never got to meet that side of Anakin Skywalker, the man locking that part of himself from you practically the moment he met you. But you had really thought you were starting to see it these past few weeks.

The teasing comments had started to disappear, or they at least lost all their edge, coming off as more inside jokes than anything. He walked you to class every day, some days going out of his way to find you before he started to head in that direction. Your personal space found itself being invaded by him more and more, Anakin no longer going out of his way to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. Lingering touches, wandering eyes, inside jokes that had the two of you seeking out each others gaze in crowded rooms to silently revel in what was just said in a way only the two of you would understand.

Anakin Skywalker was quickly becoming your friend.

It was why when you got notified you were heading out on a mission to track down a bounty hunter with him for the first time ever you weren’t dreading the experience.

No you were actually excited.

Excited as you clipped your saber to your belt and headed out of your room.

Excited as you rounded the corner to head to your transport ship.

Excited as you stepped foot on the entrance ramp.

Excited as-

“I just don’t understand why she has to come with me”

It was as if a lead ball had dropped into your stomach. The excitement evaporating on the spot as a numbness took over and your step faltered, your body freezing in place just steps down from the ships entrance.

Because you knew that voice, but even worse you knew that tone. The anger, the contempt, the annoyance.

All it took was one simple phrase and you were ripped back into the same existence of just weeks ago before you had fallen for all of Anakin Skywalkers tricks.

“I agreed to train her and I’ve been doing that why does she have to hijack my missions now”

And you wished you could say his words didn’t affect you. Afterall just a few weeks ago you would’ve expected to hear them from him, you’d practically grown up hearing this resentment for merely existing in his vicinity.

Then why did they hurt so much now?

Why did they have a painful lump starting to grow in your throat?

Why did they make you wish the ground would swallow you whole on the spot?

Why did you ever think you could be friends with Anakin Skywalker?

“Yes master”

Anakin’s final words snapped you from your daze but still you had to force your legs to move you forward slowly, making sure that as Obi-wan exited the ship you were an appropriate distance back from the entrance.

He gave you a kind smile as he exited. As easy as it would have been to resent Obi-wan due to his proximity to Anakin you could never bring it upon yourself. “May the force be with you Y/N” he offered you with a small head bow.

“Thank you master Kenobi” you responded easily, mirroring his bow.

And he looked like he wanted to say more. Perhaps apologize for his padawan, perhaps offer parting words of wisdom, instead he seemed to swallow them, giving you one more slightly tense smile before departing, leaving you with no where to go but up the ramp.

Anakin’s eyes were on you the second you came into view, his face morphing too easily into a soft, friendly smile. “Hey, you ready?”

And it was the way he could flip the switch so easily, act so flawlessly that everything was okay, so effortlessly at ease.

Weeks ago you would have bit back, would’ve offered back some scathing comment, some backhanded remark. It was one thing that kept you from outright hating the young Skywalker. For every insult he spat you always had one to hurl back at him. He could insult you, berate you, belittle you, but you always came back swinging.

Right now though you didn’t have it in you.

You offered nothing more than a small nod of your head, not missing the way his smile morphed into a frown at it.

Maybe he was expecting you to say something, maybe he was gearing up for a fight, maybe he really thought you hadn’t heard him.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care what was running through his head at this moment.

You brushed past him towards the cockpit not missing the way his eyes never left you as you did so, not missing the way his hand hovered just over your arm, not missing the way he so hesitantly followed you.

You just had to get through this one mission and you could go back to ignoring Anakin Skywalker.

You weren’t as excited for that prospect as you thought you would be.

-

An involuntary hiss slipped past your lips the second your left foot hit the ground, your weight quickly shifting back to your right to avoid the pain, overcorrecting just enough to knock yourself off balance, all weight balanced dangerously on the edge of one foot as your arms reached out half-hazardly seeking anything solid to steady yourself.

Just before you could tip over another body slotted itself beside you, shoulders fluidly depositing themselves beneath your arm as another arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into Anakin’s slide as he swore quietly “I told you to stay put”

You laughed bitterly at that, forcing yourself to lean back away from him as much as possible even as the arm on your waist tightened, his other hand clipping his saber to his belt so that it could come up and grab the hand he had thrown around his shoulders, effectively pinning you to his side as he started to drag you back to the wall “Yeah sure so you can just leave me”

You felt him still at your words, the grip on your hand and waist slackening for a second as your words seemed to hit him physically, your position keeping you from properly viewing his face as his voice came out softer than you had ever heard him “I wouldn’t do that”

His tone caught you by surprise. If there was one thing you knew about Anakin Skywalker it was that the man was loud, the way he carried himself, spoke, hell the way he flew reeked of confidence to the point of arrogance. Anakin was anything but the soft, almost vulnerable tone that just left him.

And you felt a part of you already starting to reach out to him, ready to pull him into your side and assure him that you knew that, assure him that you knew he was a good person, to tell him that you trusted him.

But another part of you couldn’t give up the way he tried bench you. How after everything you had been through: all the training, the way he seemed to go out of his way to be nice to you lately, how everything seemed to be looking up, he still thought you were nothing more than a nuisance, a less than.

Less than capable, less than a good jedi, less than an apt fighter, less than worthy of his trust.

His motion continued after the brief pause, the two of you finally reaching the wall and Anakin taking care to slowly set you down against it, a hand supporting your calf as you squatted down, careful to keep your foot off the ground.

“You’re right that’s probably a touch too far even for you, so instead you want to what scold me for getting in your way? Tell me I’m a shitty jedi for getting myself injured? Pull my hair and call me ugly?”

Anakin only sighed in response, one hand coming up to tangle his fingers in his hair as the other planted on his hip, Anakin doing nothing but looking down at you in your position on the floor. “why are you always so determined to see the worst in me?”

Again the softness in his tone gave you pause, the sincerity in it something you had only gotten used to in the past few weeks. “Anakin that’s all you’ve ever shown me”

“not lately” his reply came out rushed, a note of exasperation crawling its way onto his voice “lately we were good. At least I thought we were good”

You debated your next words for a second, debated how much vulnerability you were ready to show to the man who has been nothing but hot and cold with you for the past few weeks “I thought we were too”

“so what happened?”

“You tried to get me kicked off this mission” your answer was quick and blunt, eyes immediately picking up on the way his brow furrowed “don’t even try to deny it I heard you-“

“No that’s not-“ he cut you off quickly, letting out a frustrated sigh before continuing “I was trying to do the right thing”

“The right thing?” you echoed back now furrowing your own brow.

“You coming here was an unnecessary risk-“

“ah so you still don’t trust me” you interjected quickly, watching closely the way his entire body seemed to recoil at your words.

“What no-“

“we’ve spent weeks training, you’ve given me good advice, I’ve gotten better you’ve said so yourself. So I don’t get why you still don’t-“

“it’s not that-“

“So then what you still can’t stand to be alone with me for that long?”

“Y/N!” he finally cut you off with a small shout, crouching down in front of you close enough that he nearly occupied your entire field of vision, physically forcing you to pay attention to him rather than let your mind run any longer. “I was just trying to protect you”

Your eyes bounced back and forth between his for a moment, trying to decern the truth, trying to find the underlying meaning. “I don’t know why you think I need your protection. I can handle myself”

Another dejected sigh from Anakin, neither of you moving for a tense few seconds before you heard a muttered “forget it” underneath his breath as he pushed himself up to a standing position.

“we need to get out of here” he offered a hand to you, helping you stand though kept his gaze planted on the back door of the building “we’ll stick to the alleyways and use nothing but blasters if we have to, the sabers will be a dead giveaway”

And though you wanted to push the subject more you knew he was right, get yourself through this mission and you could go back to avoiding Anakin Skywalker. It had quickly become a mantra for you.

You let him pull you softly out the back door, Anakin carefully checking around each corner before ushering you forward, helping you hobble on your one good leg slowly back towards your ship. That was until you heard an eerily familiar voice around the next bend.

“Find the jedi scum and bring them to me. The separatists have plans so I want them alive do you understand me?”

Anakin didn’t hesitate before pushing you back against the nearest wall, using his own body to try and shield yours from view as he pinned you against it, one arm bracing himself against it just over your head.

You looked up at him with wide eyes as the two of you listened intently, footsteps slowly drawing much too close for your comfort.

From this distance you could clearly see the set in Anakin’s jaw as he kept his eyes planted at the nearest corner, muscles tense ready to pounce at a moments notice. That was when the thought struck you.

“Quick kiss me”

Anakin’s entire body froze at your words, his eyes snapping to meet yours blown wide in confusion and shock.

“Come across two people kissing in an alleyway they’re certainly not going to expect them to be jedi so quick” You explained in a harsh whisper, giving his robes a quick tug.

Anakin, however, stayed rooted in place, elbow on his arm planted on the wall locking in place to prevent him from getting any closer to you, wide eyes cemented on your face as his chest didn’t even rise with breath.

“Ani quick” you hissed, trying to snap him out of whatever trance he was in.

The footsteps continued to grow louder, the soft drag of a heel against the pavement your only indication that they were steps away from your hiding spot.

Anakin still didn’t respond, gave no indication that he had heard you after your first command. To no avail you tried to silently beg him to move with your eyes.

“Hey what’re you-“

That was all you let them get out before you made your next decision, grabbing for the blaster on Anakin’s hip you aimed and fired, the shot hitting them square in the forehead sending the hunter to the ground before they could even finish their question.

The blaster noise seemed to finally snap Anakin out of it, a soft shake to the Jedi’s head being the only indication that anything had been wrong as he wordlessly pushed himself off of you and snapped his gaze down to the dead man before you.

“What the fuck was that Anakin?” You hissed, giving his chest a small shove.

Anakin’s eyes, however, never strayed from the unconscious body beneath your feet, his chest heaving with each breath as he kept his jaw locked in place.

“Anakin” you tried calling his name again, another push to his chest, still his eyes never strayed from the ground, his body staggering slightly as he let you push him “you blew our cover and because what? You’re so disgusted by me you can’t put up with one stupid kiss for half a second?”

Finally you got a reaction, his stark blue eyes finally snapping up to meet yours, a steel hard gaze you weren’t entirely prepared for, eyes that begged you to drop it.

You couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at his look, limping a few steps back from him as you shook your head, the heels of your palms coming up to dig tiredly into your eyes “Even after all that’s happened you really still hate me so much you’d jeopardize the mission to get out of a kiss”

“It can’t happen like that” His voice surprised you, the words in of themselves confusing but his tone throwing you off more than anything, an almost pained ring in it sending you sparling.

“What?”

A quiet swear from under his breath as he started to pace “Our first” he called louder, as if that were an  explanation, his hands clenching at his sides “It shouldn’t happen like that, it can’t”

And you could feel the frustration start to rise within you, the anger from his inaction ebbing to confusion “Ani slow down what is happening right now”

The nickname seemed to have the desired effect, his pace slowing to a soft stop, eyes snapping up to meet yours once again, an almost guilty expression on his face as he stood before you, Anakin Skywalker looking almost small before you for the first time ever “Do you know how many times I’ve thought of it?” he asked you softly, an anxious hand running through his hair as his eyes broke to look at anything but you “How many times I almost just-“ and he cut himself off with a sigh, a soft shake in his head as he looked down at his shoes, a small scoff escaping before he continued “to think that the first time it would happen was to maintain some stupid cover. That it didn’t mean anything. I couldn’t do it”

A part of your brain was lighting up with realization, another part pushing it back down with denial. He couldn’t be talking about kissing you, not now, not after sending you years of signals that said otherwise “Anakin what are you saying?”

His eyes connected with yours again, a pained expression and a small tilt of his head telling you to stop pretending you didn’t know, begging you to move past faking obliviousness.

But still a part of you was reeling back, sending a huff of air through your nose as you shook your head “How many times could you have really thought about it, you just started being nice to me a week ago”

“Years worth” the words came out on his next exhale, a small shrug in his shoulder as he answered “at least since we were nine”

But that didn’t make any sense, that couldn’t possibly be true “This isn’t funny”

A small bitter laugh escaped him in response, a soft shake of his head as he spoke “believe me sweetheart I’m not laughing”

You barely registered the words, your mind already reeling as it went over every thing he’s ever said to you since then, “you’ve been nothing but mean to me since I’ve met you” your words were soft, spoken more to yourself than to him but still Anakin opened his mouth to respond, your voice cutting him off before he could “always criticizing me in front of the masters, mocking my attempts to learn, making me doubt my own abilities”

“I’m sorry”

And some part of your brain registered that those were not words Anakin used lightly, knew the weight those words held for him. Another part knew it still wasn’t enough.

“You’re sorry?” You scoffed “you made me dread every moment I had to spend in your presence for years and the best you have is I’m sorry?”

Anakin had no response to that, his jaw visibly clenching as he fought to maintain eye contact with you, but no words came, he had no excuse, no real way to make up for it, and you both knew it.

“Why?” and the question shouldn’t matter to you, the ends didn’t justify the means, they couldn’t, but still you needed to know.

Anakin took a second, drawing in a deep breath as his gaze shifted to your feet, a small shrug of one shoulder before he answered “I wanted to get your attention”

And like that you were ready to start yelling again, because surely it wasn’t that simple, surely Anakin wasn’t that stupid, that childish. Instead, he continued on.

“I don’t think I realized that was what it was at first, just knew I liked it when you got in my face and pushed back, liked when you got so wrapped up in me that the rest of the world ceased to exist for a little bit” another pause, another deep breath “then once I figured it out I knew I needed to shut it down, the code meant I couldn’t get close, couldn’t form attachments. Pissing you off felt like a good way to keep you at arm’s length while still getting you to notice me”

A million different emotions swirled around inside of you, each trying to claw their way to the surface. You wanted to yell at him, tell him how stupid that was, berate him for having the emotional regulation skills of a child. You wanted to stay silent, let him stew in his miserly, in his guilt. You wanted to cry, the catharsis, the confusion, the mix of conflicting emotions all welling up inside of you, overwhelming you.

Instead, you spoke softly, your voice sounding almost hollow on your own ears “you know when you first came to the temple all the other kid’s thought you were weird”

Anakin’s gaze shot up to meet yours, a slight furrow in his brow as he tried to figure out where you were going with this.

“Looking back I think they were just jealous. You came in later than the rest of us but you already had a master, Obi-wan Kenobi at that, and you already had the councils attention, so they all tried to stay away from you” you took a deep breath, swallowing down the slight shake in it “I thought that was dumb and that I was going to be your friend so I went up to you and I was nice. And at first I thought you were nice. Maker I was so excited to make a new friend and then the next time I saw you it was like a switch had been flipped” Anakin’s disappointed sigh barely registered as you continued “so I tried to be funny, then entertaining, then chill. I tried everything I could to be someone who was worth your time”

You could practically hear Anakin’s teeth grinding as he clenched his fist at his side, leaning back to slump against the wall as he thought for a moment before speaking.

“When I first got to the temple I was scared.” He admitted softly, gaze casted out blankly to the wall on the other side of the alley “I had just lost Qui-Gon, the council didn’t seem to like me, I missed my mother. Then out of nowhere this beautiful girl my age came up to me, took my hand and told me that it was going to be okay, that I was going to be okay, and she said it with such conviction that I couldn’t help but believe her”

You waited with bated breath for him to go on, for him to fill in the gaps of your own story.

“Then what the council said to me about fear hit and I became ashamed of having been a coward, ashamed of needing someone to hold my hand, ashamed of being weak”

You couldn’t have stopped the small chuckle from escaping if you had tried “Anakin you are a lot of things but weak isn’t one of them”

He finally met your gaze at the sound, the corner of his lips tilting up in response “I certainly made sure it appeared that way”

Another silence blanketed the two of you as you each digested the others story, Anakin finally breaking it with a soft chuckle “you were an intimidating kid you know that?”

“I was not” you denied it with an easy shake of your head, barely giving the statement any thought.

“you were” he persisted nonetheless “you were the perfect jedi student, Obi-wan was always on me about being more like you. Listening to him better, meditating better, paying more attention in class”

“Bet that didn’t help the whole hating me thing” there was no resentment in your voice, a soft understanding if anything.

“Don’t you get it sweetheart” he smiled sadly “I’ve never hated you. I’m not sure I could if I tried”

You shook your head softly at that, eyes casted out over the alley around you, speaking after another short beat “come on Skywalker, let’s get back to the ship”

Anakin stayed leaned against the wall for another moment, giving himself a pause to study you before he pushed himself up and offered you his arm to help you walk with a small nod.

You hobbled further down the ally with his help, nothing but the sounds of your deep breaths until you spoke in little more than a whisper “you know you were so busy ‘not hating’ me I don’t think I ever got to know the real Anakin Skywalker”

There was a slight pause in his step at your words, his eyes shooting to the side to meet yours as he raised a brow “are you sure you want to?”

“If he’s anything like the man I’ve been around for the past few weeks” you answered with a small shrug “then yeah. I really do”

Anakin’s face broke out into a wide grin at your words, and you found yourself admiring it once again, for the first time your own mind remaining quiet as you did rather than chastising you for it as usual.

“I’ll try not to disappoint Y/N”

You chuckled softly at that, “Given your previous experience you’ve set the bar exceptionally low” you pointed out giving his shoulder a playful shove “ but I’ll hold you to that”

[neiptune]

better safe than starry eyed

cw: 2k+ wc, female reader, your fwb arrangement with oliver aiku is not going well as in: he's catching feelings and is unable to deal with it like an adult

Oliver’s lavish aparment is uncharacteristically unlit when you walk in and your brows stay furrowed for just a moment, before the candles in your peripheral catch your attention.

“Hello?”, for a brief second you think you walked through the wrong door. That is until the familiarity of a grin has your muscles relaxing.

“Hi beautiful”, he welcomes you into his living room, sleeves of a pristine white shirt rolled to reveal thick forearms, “you’re late”.

Like clockwork, Oliver’s familiar hands find their designated place on your hips and you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Dinner?”, you playfully glance over at the richly set table, “did you hit your head?”.

“Not a nice way to talk to the guy who spent the last hour cooking”, he starts rubbing soothing circles right above your hips, slightly pushing the skirt of your dress up in the process.

Oliver knows you’re confused, taken aback: this is not what he does, it’s not what you see each other for. But what you don’t know is that tonight is special. Tonight is the night he ends things with you.

“You cooked? We’re gonna end up poison-”, you yelp when he lightly pinches your side, a quiet laugh muffled into the fabric of his shirt.

“You are gonna beg for my forgiveness once you taste that chicken”, he grumbles. His scowl is so cute you giggle but when you try to kiss him, Oliver suddenly takes a step back.

“Dinner first. S’gonna get cold”, the wink he offers doesn’t entirely dissipate your perplexity.

He helps you into your seat by pulling out the chair and servers you both a generous portion of a suspiciously inviting dinner. Everything would be perfectly normal, charming even, if this was your normal. Which is not.

Oliver refuses to smile under your doubtful stare, a game of cat and mouse he was never really able to win. You’re smart, smarter than him, which ultimately is what led him into this mess.

He knows it’s partially his fault: what was supposed to be and stay as an uncomplicated arrangement, convenient for both sides, soon ended up being much more intricate than what he had anticipated. See, Oliver was never supposed to ask you to spend the night. You were never to be in his kitchen in the morning, sitting on the counter with a cup of coffee you’d allow him to sip from as he put together eggs and rice for breakfast. He was never supposed to pick you up from work if the weather was exceptionally bad, the thought of you squeezing in a subway filled with people to the brim was not supposed to bother him. You were not supposed to become part of his routine, you really should’ve just stayed the woman he’d fuck into his mattress when he craved relief.

Oliver isn’t sure you’re aware of the way you slipped yourself, failing to honor the agreement as much as him. Always so attentive, caring, texting him that you had sent him lunch because he always forgets to grab some, calling just to ask about his day, spending the entire night tangled in sheets just talking and talking as he keeps you close. It’s not what he wants, nor what he needs, so it’s time to put a permanent stop to it.

He remembers accidentally meeting your friends a few days back. You don’t do dates, you were just there to casually grab a cup of coffee and he casually didn’t feel like waiting in the car. Oliver paid for your order without batting an eye and your heated objections catched the attention of a small group of people, who happened to recognize your voice. They knew who he was and after making some polite conversation, Oliver excused himself to go to the bathroom. Right as he came back, he accidentally overheard your friends passionately warning you against him: player, notorious cheater, better off with someone normal were the words he managed to catch.

It was perfectly reasonable behavior, he thought. Oliver remembers stopping by the table, gaze flickering to your serious face right after you murmured something he didn’t quite hear. He knew you were too genuine to straight up lie, tell them he’s the best man you’ve ever met, someone who carried much more than his reputation. He also knows, deep down, you started thinking there is more to him. And Oliver doesn’t want to deceive you, not you of all people.

He likes you much more than what he should be allowed to and that can’t happen. Still, you deserve better than a half assed parting of the ways over the phone, the usual excuses he’d come up with. He’s still selfish enough to hope you’ll decide to stay one more night, even after his signature asshole retreat. Either way, you at least deserve dinner.

“Oliver”, you murmur, “are you okay?”.

“Never better”, he flashes you a grin, “why are you not eating? I swear it’s good”.

“You’re literally shaking”.

Oliver clicks his tongue, distractedly pulling his sleeves down to conceal the skin covered in goosebumps.

“I’m fine”.

With the same stubborness that drives him insane, you get up from your seat and try to touch his hand. He pulls back.

“Jesus, just let me-”, you finally succeed in taking his face in your hands and your jaw slacks, “Aiku!”.

“I’m good”, he repeats, irked by how foreign you make his government name sound by now, “can we just have dinner?”.

“No, you idiot. Take your clothes off right now”.

He has the nerve to chuckle as you tug at his shirt to make him rise from the chair. Oliver sways a little once he’s on his feet and you sigh, exasperated.

“Why don’t you take your clothes off?”, he smiles.

“You’re incredible”, as you start quite literally dragging him to his bedroom, you shake your head in utter disbelief, “why didn’t you just cancel?”.

“I never cancel”, it’s not entirely true, sometimes he does cancel. As in, he disappears without warning never to return again.

Once he flops down onto his bed, arms loosely wrapped around your waist as you stand between his parted legs, Oliver rests his forehead against your chest. You start unbuttoning his shirt and when he helps you take it off, he shivers again.

“I can change on my own, you know”, he offers a weak smile when you glare at him. He doesn’t love that you take a step back right away, hands raised.

“Good. Do it, then”.

Oliver complies, something strange and foreign clutching his chest when you leave the room. Just like that.

When he crawls into bed, the covers too cold on his fevered skin as he keeps trembling, he waits to hear the sound of his front door shutting. The clear signal that will indicate that you have left without giving him the chance to do what needed to be done. A pang of nausea makes his insides churn.

After what feels like forever, something cool and soft is suddenly placed on his forehead and, when he opens his eyes again, you’re incredibly still there, looking at him with an odd mix of affection and irritation.

“Got you some medicine. Drink it, then sleep”.

“You’re hot when you’re in charge”, he murmurs, to which you scoff. Oliver sits up with a groan, obediently takes the medicine and drinks the water you brought him, lets you dab his cheeks and forehead with the damp piece of cloth. When he feels better, he’s going to kick Shuto in the face for making him sick too.

“Is this why you wouldn’t let me touch you?”.

He ignores the question.

“I can still-”

“We are not having sex, Aiku”.

“But what if it heals me?”.

“Oliver, shut up. Close your eyes”.

He does what he’s told and not just because his head is straight up throbbing. Definitely not because you said his name again.

What is he even doing? He’s supposed to at least try. You weren’t to understand he’s not feeling well and he is definitely not supposed to flirt with the one person he needs to get rid of as quickly as possible. Fuck.

“You should leave”, he manages to utter, eyes still shut. You’re sitting on the bed, probably wearing that protective look you always get on that pretty face whenever someone you could somehow help happens to be around.

“It’s fine”, you murmur, one hand distractedly carding through his hair. Oliver tries as hard as he can to keep his eyes closed.

Maybe he can be selfish for a few minutes more. Who knows when he’s going to see you or hear your voice again? You’re soon going to hate him, resent him. He just hopes you never completely regret him. Oliver knows he won’t regret you.

“Go eat something”, he croaks.

“Not hungry. I always eat before coming over, you know, since you’re a terrible-”

“You’re being mean. I’m literally on my deathbed right now”.

You chuckle.

“I just eat because we don’t really do that. What’s up with dinner, tonight? Why go through all that trouble?”.

Oliver stops himself before his stupid tongue runs, the admission sitting heavy in his mouth. No trouble at all. I actually fucking lowkey enjoyed doing it.

When he doesn’t reply, you assume he’s either falling asleep or trying to. You gently feel his temperature again, the back of your hand on his warm cheek. He looks so vulnerable, it makes you want to kiss him. A dangerous thought.

Oliver is not asleep, he weakly reaches for your hand and briefly presses it to his lips before gently placing it on the covers, away from him. His eyes are still shut when he speaks.

“You should leave”, he says again, sternly this time.

“I can stay. What if you need help-”

“I fucked someone else today. I will again tomorrow”.

He doesn’t see it but he feels it, the way you quietly jerk. It’s unexpected, despite the arrangement between you too being far from exclusive. He knows you’re not upset because he’s seeing other people, it’s the way he’s telling you. It’s the reason why he’s telling you.

Oliver is not lying, he wouldn’t lie to you. He really did fuck other people the last few days, over and over actually, an attempt at pushing whatever you are doing to him, whatever you’re making him feel, out of his system. It felt different, it felt weird and foreign and not you. Which is why you can’t belong there anymore.

“I understand”, you say, calm. Not a quiver to your voice because why would there be any? You’re an adult. You can face things. He’s just a man and not even a particularly good one, you will find better.

It takes everything in him not to grab your arm and pull you into his chest when he feels your lips gently press to his cheek once you get up from the same bed you’ve shared so many times. It’s probably the fever but oh, he’s going to miss you.

Oliver dreams of you that night, in between violent shivering, sweat and full-body aches. He wakes so many times but only opens his eyes once, lets his gaze wander around the dark room, and his heart thumps violently in his chest when he sees what looks like your silhouette uncomfortably curled up in the armchair on the other side of the bedroom. He’s sure it’s not real, you couldn’t possibly still be there at 4 in the morning.

You considered respecting his implicit request, really. You wanted to leave. But then you looked at him and it once more painfully struck you. Always alone, in a big city, in an even bigger house, his family not close enough to be there if he gets sick, his friends wouldn’t be called in the first place because god forbid Oliver asks for someone’s help.

You only stay because he’ll never know. You stay because you don’t want to leave him, always so obstinate and difficult, even if it means breaking your heart a little more. You won’t hold it against him, even if he most probably would want you to: Oliver doesn’t realize how badly he chooses to damage himself each time, what he does is far worse than the silly sadness he burdens your chest with. You know he likes you, it’s just unfortunate he wouldn’t trust himself with that.

Oliver wakes up with every single muscle in his body aching, the sweatshirt he sleeps in stuck to his clammy back. His eyes dart to the empty armchair and the relief he feels is bitter. It turns into something more complex when he shuffles to the living room, the table he worked so hard to set now perfecly empty, food probably stored in plastic containers he’ll find in the fridge. Because of course you’d do that.

He sits by the counter, the low buzz of the coffee machine echoeing in a painfully empty apartment. And then, the memory washes over him like a tidal wave.

Once again, Oliver feels just how overwhelmingly bad he wanted to prove your friends wrong.

[cyberchronics]

・。.・゜✭・.・✫..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

choso kamo + make up sex ♡

★ cunnilingus as an apology, choso is an eater, bed humping, no power dynamics ★

✩∘₊ ✩*✯☆⃟⃟⃟✯*✩₊∘✩

choso doesn't get into arguments with you. he's always patient with you, staying quiet even when he knows you're wrong and fixing things behind your back to make sure you won't get upset. for you, he's willing to keep his temper under control. but that isn't to say he never slips

it's never intentional. but sometimes after a long day, his will crumbles and he accidentally lashes out. the harsh words taste like poison as he spits them, and when you mumble out a soft apology before slinking away instead of yelling back it's as if his heart is being torn out.

he always regrets it. emotions are still a bit hard on him, making him unable to find the right words no matter how hard he tries. but there is another way… and actions always speak louder than words, right? why would he spend days trying to come up with a semi-decent apology when he can say sorry and make both of you feel better at the same time?

eating you out all night long is just the sensible solution. it's what any rational person would do, curse or otherwise.

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

It's late when Choso slips into your shared bedroom. He had spent the last twenty minutes trying to make himself forget about the way he overreacted, cringing internally as the scene of him blowing up at you for the tiniest thing replays once more. Such a stupid thing to get upset over, yet he still made you get that sad look on your face and hole yourself up in the room. At least he has a foolproof method to make everything better.

He's always quiet at night, but when he's focused on making you feel good he practically goes non-verbal. Slender fingers pull back the blanket, massaging your thighs gently to gauge if you even want his touch. A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth when you spread your legs slightly, sitting up slightly to catch a glimpse of him.

“Relax.” The low voice is accompanied by a squeak of the mattress, the sound echoing through the room as he settles between your legs. “Let me make it up to you.” Choso pulls at your hands as he kisses up the soft skin of your thighs, squeezing them just hard enough to get your attention and placing them on his head. He's gentle yet firm in his actions, kissing and biting at it until your hips buck down towards him.

As if that wasn't enough to remind him just how much you love this position, the way your lacy panties start to dampen gives you away. He presses his lips to your puffy clit through your underwear, teasing you momentarily before pulling them to the side without a care.

Being face to face with your shiny cunt makes him feel dizzy. You smell like his favorite soap, filling his nose with floral sweetness and drawing him in more and more. It doesn't take long for him to commit fully and lean it, pressing sloppy kisses to your cunt.

He's always been a messy eater. Pressing his face into you, spreading your juices over his face without a care, and using his thumb to coax out even more of that sweet nectar. Those skilled hands know just how to make you feel good, thick tongue bullying its way inside of you and bringing you to the edge of orgasm in no time.

Choso clearly feels it too, his hips rolling against the rough mattress for friction and soft moans sending vibrations up your spine. “On my tongue.” He chants quietly, pulling your legs over his shoulder and burying himself against your soft pussy. “Want to taste you.” The precum making a stain in his pants doesn't matter. All he's focused on is when you finally let him hear that distinct whine he's blessed with every time he manages to push you over the edge.

That rough tongue eagerly laps up your cum, not wasting a drop even as you arch off the bed and squeeze his head with your thighs like you're trying to kill him. By the time you manage to catch your breath, Choso looks ruined. He rests his chin on your stomach with his ponytails barely holding up anymore, his face shining with the proof of your love and a pleased look on his face.

There's a moment of silence as you make eye contact, basking in the post-orgasm haze together before he lets his hair down and reorganizes it into a messy bun. His eyes return to your own, giving you a telling grin before he pulls your legs over his shoulders.

He still hasn't finished apologizing to you. It's a good thing the night is still young, isn't it?

・。.・゜✭・.・✫..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: everytime I can talk about this man giving head I will... you don't understand how special he is to me :333 // next fic will be up next week, a fun little multipost ive had on the brain

[mikodrawnnarratives]

Have some art + fic rn cuz i had this idea plaguing me for a whlie in my first playthrough of the game and i needed to have it realized.

I don't want to edit my writing just yet so i'll do that later, but for now have some mentally unstable Siffrin 👍

I'll come up with a title ltr, prob when i edit this and post to ao3 (so if this gets reblogs just check out the og post for latest ver.)

For now the warnings you should know of are just character death, lots of Siff hating himself, and i think suicide ideation? I wrote this a few hours ago n still don't want to go back just yet but basically its nothing that doesn't already exist in the game

Fic starts under the cut! Roughly 2000 words

(edit: i forgor some colors don't exist/can't be seen 🤡, fixed now!)

Siffrin can’t seem to fall asleep at all anymore. The night right before the loops he can only pretend to get some rest before facing the king. He isn’t quite sure what the reason is. Being stuck in one place for too long? Useless? His urges to reach out for Isa’s touch that keep him awake at night, yearning for connection that is immediately are followed by disgust in himself?  The pure exhaustion at the thought of repeating the next day again? None seem to be the answer. Maybe its a combination.

He only knows that he’s exhausted. Exhausted, yet unable to rest. Even if he were able, would he want to risk what ever dream or nightmare his head might concoct? A blend of memories and deaths to remind him that he can’t escape?

Not being able to sleep makes them worse at the loops too unfortunately. They got along fine for the first few loops after his first sleepless night, though the mistakes ramped up. They cursed their body, cursed themself for being so weak. Simple and stupid mistakes getting them killed via boulder when they forgot and slip of the hand resulting in the weakest of Sadnesses offing him.

Loop of course taunted about his failures, like they always do. He couldn’t fully blame them, knowing deep down he deserved it. There was a pull he sometimes had though, to rest with them, even for just a little bit. He’s hung out with them before, when it gets overwhelming, never for very long. Despite that, to actually sleep with them is a different story. Different vulnerability that, he wasn’t comfortable with. Too weak, he didn’t need another thing for Loop to tease him about. No matter how tempting it would be to sit in the tree and doze off. He wouldn’t doubt that, if he could rest at this point, he would doze off until the next loop.

He can’t have that. He can’t let his family die again.

The next loop began, the stage set, and Siff opened his eye, despite every ache in their body telling them not too. They can’t listen to their body right now though. They need to travel the entire house in the next few loops for anything he might have missed before. One more sweep. 

He carries out his lines, plays the role he’s meant, rehearsing the other actor’s lines in his head before they speak up. Familiar steps, expressions, directions. When they get to Isabeau, they slip up again, Isa’s concern blooms. But they’ve seen this before. It’ll be fine. Their gut twists at forcing Isa to be concerned, but theres a warmth in it too. That Isa cares. Cares about them. It’s strange, when Odile gets close to the truth, stars when she FINDS OUT the truth, there isn’t any warmth. Just, fear. But knowing Isa won’t find out, just cares and makes them promise to talk about it at a time they know won’t come, it’s a guilty pleasure. At least, for now. Before it becomes meshed with all the other lines Siffrin has come to expect from The Fighter.

While navigation the House like normal, they slip up occasionally, interacting with objects that spark Odile’s concern. They don’t bother reversing the mistakes, he hasn’t slipped up that much. There’s no way she could know. Siff crumbled on the first floor at the counter they jabbed themself into again. Unable to see it and always stupidly forgetting to be cautious there. Stupid. 

And they kept making mistakes. Their exhaustion pulling at their body, their nerves eating them alive. There’s no warmth with new lines of concern from their actors. Just spikes of panic followed by their attempts to reassure them. To continue on.

By the final snack stop before the King, their actor’s change the script again. Siffrin tensed, their hand tracing the handle of their dagger in case of emergency. Odile… odile doesn’t call out suspicious connections to time craft this time. Everyone just.. Just asks him to nap.

The third floor they had fumbled the most, their quick grabs at the keys became more clumsy against his will. His hands can’t stop shaking. The aches won’t cease their whining in his body. Change, of course they noticed, they aren’t blind. The script is similar, repeating the words that simultaneously warm his body and send nausea through it. They’re a family. They care.

Absently, Siffrin notes Mira’s asking him if he’ll accept a comb, again. At least that’s familiar. At least one of them new the script to stick to. And, he really wouldn’t mind it again. The loops reset his hair back to the tangled and knotted mess it was when he startled back to awareness in Dormont. Everytime. Sometimes they briefly wondered if Mirabelle would comb their hair out back in town too. They would never ask though.

Their family quietly chated as Mirabelle combed through his hair. Gently, dare they think lovingly. Careful not to hurt him. Like he’s fragile and weak. Pathetic. They are pathetic aren’t they. For wanting this. Selfish for forcing them. Their hands continued to tremble, as much as Siff tried to suppress it.

The Fighter changes the script first. First to notice. Notice a slip up. They tense, not for any particular reason just, they don’t know this script. The Fighter’s face is concerned but softens. Isa. Isa asked hesitantly it he could see their hands. Siff let him, letting their pathetic shaking hands be engulfed in Isa’s large ones. He hesitantly rubs their knuckles, Mira continues to brush the tangles out of their hair. Siff’s eyelid got heavier, their body screaming to just let go, just relax. They haven’t reached the king yet, the head housemaid, they can’t yet. 

When they heard Odile close her book, another off script action, they jolted up and looked her way. Odile was about to speak up, but hesitated at their startled form. Her concerned and piercing expression remained.

“Siffrin, did you get any rest at all last night?”

They stop and meekly speak up, “I slept..”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Siffrin grimaced, tensing up. “I got.. Some rest. Why do you ask?”

“The fumbling around and absent performance don’t suggest you did.”

She had them there. Their fingers twitch as they internally remind themselves their dagger is still on their person. Even if their hands are occupied with being held by Isa’s. They take a breath.

The other actors contribute, sharing their nerves about facing the King. Needing to be ready before confronting the Threat, that could be their final standing place. No. No they won’t fail. They won’t die here. He might, but he won’t let his family.

Odile is actually the first to suggest Siffrin rest before they face the King. They can’t have any weak links before such a moment. Weak members. Weak. They were clumsy this loop. Their other family members share in the sentiment. They probably think he’s weak too. Their concerned smiles are hard to say no to though. The aches and exhaustion overwhelming his body probably wouldn’t let him refuse such an opportunity either. Surely. Surely they went through the first couple floors quick enough that another fifteen minutes before the king wouldn’t be too long. Right?

It’s a thought that didn’t seem to cross his family member’s faces when he gave into their requests and laid down. Mira scooted over, getting started on the next clump of tangled hair. Isa offered his lap as a pillow, and Siffrin’s slow mind just. Accepts the request. Not noting the dark shade flooding The Fighter’s face as they dragged their body to his lap, their head and partial upper body relaxing immediately. They rest their head on their blind side, one hand interlaced with The Fighter’s, behind them Mira finishing off the last of their tangles. The concern from their family’s faces hasn’t completely disappeared, but it’s eased. And that is enough to release the remaining tension in his body. It’s enough. 

Their family makes a few jokes that their brain muffles. Some laughing. Bonnie’s working on their snacks in the corner, still. They’ll be ready when they wake up. Their legs adjusted and placed in someone else’s lap, they think. Whoever it was, rubs circles into their calf. His eyelid grows heavier, their breathes come easy. Deep breaths. Someone rubs their back. 

It’s nice. Really.. really nice. One could easily forget they were even about to face the King at all. Face the end. They close their eyelid. It’s warm. One breath in. And out. Just.. just a quick nap. Where they are loved. They.. they are loved right? This is what this means… at least right now…

Yeah. They hope this is right.

Sleep engulfs them for the first time in several loops and their breaths slow.

The chatting continues around him, not lacking some glances exchanged between the adults in the room. But mostly, just relief fills the air. Mira stayed by Siffrin’s side, threading her fingers through his now completely combed out hair. The flush in Isabeau’s cheeks still hadn’t fully left, every movement reminding him of his crush resting so peacefully in his lap. Like a sleeping cat that once it has claimed you as it’s cushion, you are bound by the universe to not move for any reason. Odile didn’t pass up the opportunity to tease him, met with Isa’s shushing and hushed whisper “what if he wakes up and hears you!!”

Siff had done a lot today, and everyone would have assumed he was completely calm about fighting the king if not for his uncharacteristic clumsiness. Mirabelle supposed it made sense though. A night of rough sleep right before facing the most dangerous threat facing the country? That would make anyone mess up.

After another twenty minutes, Bonnie comes over with the freshly prepared snacks. Made extra special since they were more ahead of schedule than expected. Last hurrah before the king, everyone needed to be at their best.

Mirabelle smiles, heading over to were Bonnie had announced the snacks. Isa attempts to move but flounders at the idea of moving Siff. Mirabelle giggles at his flushing face as Odile moves their legs out of their lap. Well, time to end their nap she supposes. Their sleepy family member probably won’t be too thrilled about waking up but it is snack time.

Mirabelle collects her choice of snack and crouches over to Siff, moving their hat from where it had obscured their resting expression. Isa looked both upset to have the time his crush sleeps on their lap come to an end, and relieved. He lets out a chuckle as Mira gently shakes their shoulder.

“Time to wake up, Siffrin! Bonnie has snacks for everyone.” Mira moves a few hairs out of their face. “Siffrin?”

Isabeau adjusts, and joins in. “Siff? Sorry to wake you bud but..” He pauses, seeing Mirabelle’s face shift. Odile’s gaze sharpens as Mirabelle’s leans over them, placing her ear to their chest.

“They- th-they aren’t” Mira cries out. “They aren’t breathing! No no no-” 

Isabeau moves Siffrin off his lap with shaking hands. Odile rushes over to their side, checking their wrist and neck for a pulse. Bonnie’s face crumbles in the corner, alarm replacing the happy air.

Isabeau shakes Siffrin’s still body, Mirabelle readies a heal craft as Odile begins to try resuscitating them.

but 

the 

world

goes

blank

Siffrin first feels the gentle breeze around them. The grass moving in tune, sometimes brushing up against the small areas their clothes don’t cover. They hear Mirabelle in the distance and when they open their eyes, she’s right above them, apologetic for waking them. Siffrin blinks. It’s been a while since Mira’s been the one to wake them up. 

“Good morning! Well, more like good afternoon, I gue- wow. Are you okay?”

That’s new. Why would her lines-

“You’re crying.. Is something wrong, Siffrin?”

He blinks and brings a hand to his face. Sure enough, his cheek is stained with tears. He doesn’t remember crying, he just woke up too. From..

“Must’ve happened in my sleep” He says absently.

Mira frowns, “Oh no! What did you dream about…?”

Siffrin shrugs and repeats lines he remembers that will reassure her the quickest. She sighs and returns back to town. They’ll be waiting for him.

He takes a moment to think about what happened in the last loop. He.. doesn’t remember dying. Must have been when he went to sleep. That. That probably should worry him, that falling asleep could end a loop, but he doesn’t feel any regret about it. Actually, it’d be nice if all his loops ended like that. Just, dying with his loved ones around. It would take too long though, even if it could happen again. This loop needs to be faster. Last loop they didn’t even reach the king, and they have questions. 

He grumbles as he sits up, a part of him yearning to go back to that warmth. Oh if only the universe could have let it be permanent. A permanent death that didn’t even hurt. That’s wishful thinking though, the universe isn’t so kind. And they have work to do, his family- actors. They need what he knows. He can’t rest forever yet.

The show must go on.