#open-circle-fleet

[kheimerios]

trying to reconstruct the GAR's structure in realistic terms: a WIP

[uwingdispatch]

I have some shiny new treatos for y’all! Im fascinated by the Open Circle Fleet patches Hera and Sabine wear in the Ahsoka show, so I had to make a charm. And of course, the Chiss Ascendancy…whatever is coming with Thrawn, it’s going to be exciting!

These charms are 2” wide and set in iridescent “rainbow” acrylic. The front has an epoxy coating and they come with a star-shaped gold clasp that you can clip to your bag or your keys or anywhere you’d like.

Come grab one (or both!) of these in the shop.

[liopleurodean]

I had a vision, blacked out and then created this

blank version for agender/intersex/whatever you want:

[rainintheevening]

Trick or treat!

You get the Open Circle Fleet crest!

"...One arc represented Kenobi, the other, Skywalker. The image signified that while they were both two independent halves, together they formed a single entity." -Wookiepedia

[aerkan]

HC: Obi-Wan has one and only the one tattoo. It's the Open Circle Fleet symbol, and it's right above his heart. He got it one evening along with some of his troopers. (At the time of his death it was the last remaining version of this symbol in the galaxy)

Cody: *rolling up his sleeves ready to spar with Obi-Wan* Obi-Wan: You have tattoos? Cody: I have several, just not all are visible at the moment Helix: GENERAL STOP DROOLING AND FOCUS

[fushiguho]

warnings pussy whipped satoru, breeding :p

satoru gojo who gets sooo fucking drunk off the way you ride his cock that he’s drooling all over himself. splayed beneath your body and blabbering, a rivulet of saliva dribbling from the corner of his gaped mouth, trickling down his neck.

scattered wisps of ivory adorn the pillow beneath his head, stray pieces framing his perfect face and wreathing around his chin. he’s not there, not really, yet all he can feel is you. clinging to your pretty body with searing hands, pulling you closer, fucking you deeper. he wants to consume you—embody every last bit of your overwhelming pleasure to absorb you wholly, completely.

“fuck, you’re so pretty,” he babbles in a single, gasping breath. his hands reach for the sides of your face, pulling you close. “you’re so fuckin’ pretty… god, you feel s— so good, gimme a kiss, baby.”

the kiss is so sloppy and haphazard and wet. and his lips are feverish as he whines into your mouth, hungrily sucking on your tongue. something of a whimper leaves him as he briefly parts from your mouth, a thin gossamer of glittery saliva wedding your lips.

a roaming hand finds yours, grabbing it before greedily directing it toward his parting lips. three of your fingers are prying his jaw open, pressing against the jagged point of his canines. satoru let’s off the prettiest groan, his warm wet tongue dragging over the soft pads of your digits before closing his lips around them and sucking.

“phf— fuck meee,” he muffles, slobbering down your knuckles.

the boy is whipped.

his eyes have gone dark, pupils blown into pretty, lustful hearts. you could do anything to him and he would let you, or even beg you. he will never be ashamed of his need for you, for your body. not even as his desperate hips begin to rut beneath you; sloppy and stuttered as he greedily follows the pounce of your body.

he needs more. needs to feel the tightening of your messy little pussy around his cock, and the way you’re going to drip all the way down to the fat of his swollen balls when you finally cum on it like he needs you to.

“fuh— fuck me, baby.” a pretty, unabashed groan follows his request, head woozy as it sinks deeper into the plush pillow. “ohhh, fuck me… please, fuck me h-harder. oh my… oh my god, i need it.”

satoru watches as you reach behind yourself, blindly grabbing ahold of his tensing thighs. he hiccups when you lean back, drunkenly following the undulation of your hips as your head lolls to the side, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. his hands are reaching out for you, desperate to feel the buck of your body as you take his cock like it’s the last thing you’ll ever fucking do.

his lips part, brows screwing together. “like that… fuck me like that.”

“like this?” you hum, a teasing lilt in your voice.

he nods dumbly, mouth gaping while a fleeting breath escapes him. big, greedy hands wander your body—smoothing over the fat of your ass, trailing up the sides of your waist, dragging over those pretty, sensitive nipples. his palms are even creeping beneath the depraved arch of your back and forcing you deeper.

“m’gonna cummm,” it’s a whiny little breath, lips twisting while his face contorts in overwhelming pleasure. “c-can’t hold it, fuck you’re gonna make me cum.”

“inside.”

“huh?”

“please?” you breathe, rolling your hips once. “cum with me.”

a beat passes and his hips stutter, cock twitching inside of you. he doesn’t even question you, instead he’s reaching a hand between your searing bodies to circle your aching clit with the warm pads of his fingers, encouraging your looming orgasm. satoru exhales a nasty moan when your hips buck harder, your pretty pussy tightening around him in desperation.

“cum with me.” you whisper again, pulling his lips between yours in a messy kiss.

and he does, immediately. he’s filling you up with sloppy thrusts, whining into your mouth like the prettiest, most disciplined boy. your wet, aching pussy throbs around all of his warm cum as he messily empties himself inside of you. sinful strings of arousal stretch between your sexes as satoru nurses you through your own orgasm, inadvertently fucking his seed deeper.

as you cum around him, your bountiful arousal spills all over his swollen balls, eventually dribbling down far enough to ruin the silken sheets beneath him. his chest heaves, hips bucking shallowly in efforts to chase his cum as it dribbles from the seams of your pretty, overstuffed pussy.

“baby, i wanna cum again… think i can get it deeper this time.”

[ditzyrafe]

rafe x needy!reader? they’ve already gone at it once but she cannot get enough… she feels like she physically can’t stop

if you’re not comfortable with writing this then just ignore it!! :) thank youu

— bf!rafe fucking needy!reader

warnings — p in v, thigh riding, petnames, reader being needy, lewd language

the tangled sheets are damp beneath you, clinging uncomfortably to your overheated skin. rafe lies beside you, chest rising and falling heavily, eyes closed, looking utterly spent. you just came, a shuddering, messy climax that should have left you satiated, maybe even borderline numb after the hours you've already spent fucking each other.

but it didn't.

rafe sighs, shifting slightly, his arm brushing against yours. even that fleeting contact sends a jolt through you. without thinking, you reach out, fingers tracing the line of sweat down his ribs, sliding lower toward his limp cock.

he cracks an eye open, looking at you through heavy lids, a mixture of exhaustion and faint surprise on his face. "jesus, baby," he murmurs, his voice rough, thick with sleep and exertion. "still going? thought that last round finally killed you."

you shake your head silently, unable to articulate the relentless need clawing at you. you shift closer, lifting yourself off the bed before lowering your core to his thigh, seeking the familiar heat and hardness, even though you know he must be soft now, spent. your hand finds him, closing around his length. he stirs slightly under your touch.

"baby, come on," rafe sighs, trying to gently push your hand away. "m'fucking exhausted, let's go to bed, yeah?"

"no," you whisper the word desperate, raw. you push his hand away, resuming your ministrations with more urgency, needing to feel him harden again. "please, rafey. i need more." it feels shameful, this relentless craving, but you need this. your body feels hollow, aching, incomplete without him filling you up.

"fuck, you're relentless," he murmurs, but he stops resisting your touch. his cock begins to stir, thickening slowly under your insistent hand. he reaches out, pulling you on top of him, settling you onto his hips. even half-hard, the pressure against your entrance is agonisingly good.

"ride me, baby" he commands softly, his hands finding your waist, guiding your initial desperate movements. "ride this fuckin' cock."

you obey instantly, grinding down, using your own slickness and desperate friction to coax him back to full hardness. it doesn't take long. the need radiating off you seems to fuel him, bypassing his exhaustion. he watches you, hands gripping your hips tightly, letting you set the pace this time.

you lift your hips high, then slam back down onto his cock, seeking the deepest penetration possible. sweat beads on your forehead, dripping down between your breasts, mirroring the sheen on his own skin. your hair sticks to your temples, your breathing coming in ragged, almost panicked gasps. it's not just pleasure driving you; it's something closer to desperation, a physical craving that borders on pain.

"easy, doll," rafe murmurs, his voice still rough but losing some of its earlier exhaustion, replaced by a growing intensity as he watches you unravel above him. his thumb snakes to your clit, rubbing slow circles lazily. "you’re gonna tire yourself out."

but you can't slow down. the friction feels good, incredible even, but it's not enough. it doesn't touch that core ache. you whine softly, a frustrated sound, leaning forward, bracing your hands on his chest, trying to find a better angle, a deeper connection. his muscles tense beneath your palms.

he groans low in his throat, his own control starting to fray under your relentless assault. his hips begin to lift off the mattress, meeting your downward thrusts, adding his power to yours. the shift is subtle but significant. he's no longer just letting you ride; he's participating, drawn back into the fire by your sheer, consuming need.

"fuck, you feel so good," he grits out, his eyes darkening as he watches your face contort with effort and building pleasure. "pussy's so fuckin' tight and warm… y'gonna cum for me, angel?"

"f-fuck yes, mmhhh," you cry out, riding him impossibly harder, faster.

"that's it," rafe encourages, his voice strained now, hands gripping your hips tighter, almost bruisingly. "cum f'me again. show me how much y'need this cock."

his words, combined with the powerful thrust of his hips meeting yours, finally tip you over. the orgasm hit with staggering force, more intense than any of the previous ones, fuelled by hours of build-up and sheer desperation. it rips through you, stealing your breath, making you cry out loud, a raw, keening sound. your body convulses violently around him, clamping down hard, milking every last drop of him.

he roars beneath you, his own release triggered by the intensity of yours, coating your walls with his warm seed. you collapse onto his chest, utterly boneless this time, trembling uncontrollably, spent in a way that feels deeper, more complete than before. his arms wrap around you, holding you tight against his slick, heaving chest. for a long moment, the only sound is the harsh rasp of your combined breathing. the ache is still there, a faint echo beneath the overwhelming tide of release.

"such a needy girl today, weren't you?"

taglist ; @13hischiers @rafesprecious @mayanqueenxx @bbshann @zoenighshade555 @feverg1rl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @onxlyemery @yncoded @millie--billie @laniirackssss @slut4you @g3t2kn0w @kravitzwhore @dollyfiles @kild4re @zzhenyac @sparklyananas @dsfault @athaliahxoxo @allislths @nonbeliever1 @drewsephrry @soft-starr @k4yr14 @babydollll-bunny @leleasalwaysblog (join here) | divider creds ; @/anitalenia @/fairytopea

© written by ditzyrafe — do not steal or claim as ur own, stealing will result in me blocking u, any resemblance to any other story is simply coincidental!

[ineffableobikin]

Why can’t I buy a decal of the Open Circle Fleet logo anywhere? I feel like we Obikinnies could spot each other in the wild with these. Does anyone here make stickers?

Did You Know? The Open Circle Fleet emblem was the heraldic symbol of the Open Circle Armada and later of the Republic Navy as a whole. The red arcs represented Kenobi and Skywalker and signified that, while they were two independent halves, together they formed one entity.

(Note: The particular meaning might be part of Legends now, but since nothing in current canon contradicts it...just try and take this canon from me.)

It's also found throughout Revenge of the Sith, as well as the games, Battlefront II and Jedi: Fallen Order.

[dazevi]

baby, can i? | vi x fem!reader, fluff, smut (18+ mdni) wc: 6k

synopsis: vi guides you through your first time. | masterlist

content warnings: modern au!, tiniest mention of hockey player!vi, virgin!reader/inexperienced!reader, experienced!vi, soft top!vi, needy vi, nsfw/smut; consent is sexy!!!!!!, kissing/making out, little bit of perverted vi, soft sex, fingering and oral (r!receiving) slight overstim, bit of praise kink for both reader and vi, a little sappy tbh

note: ok wait this actually is really sappy/cheesy/whatver ummm but i hope u like it (also i might be on a writers high a little bit > got a request for bartender!vi andi am very excited to write about it)

It was all innocent at first—a movie you chose playing on the TV in Vi’s apartment, her chin resting lightly on your shoulder, her thumbs gently brushing circles against your sides, and ever so often, her lips grazing the top of your head in fleeting, soft kisses. You were tucked between her legs, your back resting against her chest, and her arms were securely wrapped around your waist possessively, not wanting you to move away from her.

You were watching the movie—or at least, you were trying to.

But Vi wasn’t making it easy.

She’d been unusually affectionate all evening, her hands sneaking under the hem of your sweater to rest directly on your skin. They weren’t wandering; she wasn’t teasing you like she sometimes did.

No, this was different.

Her fingers were just there, pressed against your stomach as if she needed to feel the warmth of you. She was quiet, which wasn’t unusual when she was in one of these soft, clingy moods, but you could feel her every breath against your back, her chest rising and falling steadily. In different minutes, she would shift slightly, her legs tensing around you as if she were adjusting, but really, you knew it was just an excuse to pull you closer.

“Comfy?” she asked after a while, voice soft in your ear.

“Mhm,” you murmured back, turning your head slightly to look at her.

She only smiled.

“What?” You smiled back, a soft giggle falling from your lips.

Vi shook her head, placing a tiny kiss to your shoulder, “Nothing.”

She was so close, her face inches from yours, her eyes glinting in the flickering light of the TV. There was a small smile tugging at her lips, and when she caught you looking at her, she tilted her head, her expression softening in a way that made your heart flutter.

Vi had been head over heels for you from the start, though she’d never admit how fast it all happened.

She prided herself on being smooth, confident, and a little cocky—someone who always knew how to flirt, how to charm, how to make the girls swoon. And it worked for her, for the most part. Vi had never struggled to get attention; her charm, confidence, and maybe sometimes even her muscles, did most of the talking before she even opened her mouth.

But none of that prepared her for you.

When you first started dating, Vi tried to play it cool. She told herself she’d keep it casual, keep things easy. But then you smiled at her like she’d hung the moon, and that was it. Vi fell hard—headfirst, without a parachute—and it terrified her.

She couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop replaying every moment you spent together like they were the best scenes in a movie she never wanted to end. Every time you laughed, her chest felt too tight, like her heart was trying to claw its way out of her ribcage just to reach you. She didn’t even realize how deep she was in until one day she caught herself thinking about you in the middle of practice, her teammates yelling her name because she’d missed the puck for the third time.

She told herself it wasn’t a big deal. People fell in love all the time, right?

Right?

And that scared her more than anything. Because Vi wasn’t used to feeling this vulnerable. She was used to being in control, to calling the shots, to knowing exactly where she stood. But with you, she felt like she was walking a tightrope, one misstep away from falling so deep she might never recover. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Because as much as you terrified her, you also made her feel alive in ways she never thought possible.

And for the first time in her life, she wasn’t afraid to admit that someone else had her completely, utterly, helplessly wrapped around their finger.

And, truth be told, you’re not exactly experienced when it came to sex.

The first time you told her, it took Vi by surprise.

She had been getting touchy one day, as she always did when she was around you, teasing you with little brushes of her fingers against your skin, her lips grazing your neck as she whispered something playful in your ear. She could sense the way you tensed up, not in a way that made her think you were uncomfortable, but… uncertain.

“I—uh, I’m not really… experienced with all this,” you had admitted, your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, eyes glancing away, as if you were ashamed to even say it aloud. “I’ve never… done it with someone before.”

Vi froze, her breath caught in her throat.

She hadn’t expected it—hadn’t thought that you might be nervous about something so natural to her. Vi had been with plenty of people, experienced in more ways than one, but she’d never really stopped to think about someone who was new to it all, someone who might feel hesitant or unsure. She paused, but then the softest smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she looked at you softly.

“Hey,” she said gently as she cupped your face with her hand, guiding your gaze back to hers. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, okay? I’m not in a rush. We’ll go at your pace, baby.”

You swallowed hard, the knot in your stomach still there, but hearing her words made it feel a little easier to breathe. She didn’t judge you. She didn’t make you feel small for being inexperienced. She understood your vulnerability because, in a way, she felt it too.

“I’m really into you,” Vi had said. “All I care about is being with you. So, if we go slow—if you need time—then we go slow. I’m not going anywhere.”

She kept her word.

She let you set the pace, kissed you slow and gentle, her hands always asking for permission before they moved anywhere further. When you’d get nervous, when you’d pull back, she’d smile at you, brushing your hair from your face, whispering how beautiful you were, how much she liked being close to you. She was kind of shocked herself. She had the patience to listen, the kind of patience she’d never thought she’d have for anyone, but for you? She’d have it for a lifetime if you needed her to.

But god, sometimes, it was really fucking hard.

She wanted to fuck you so bad.

Vi was, above all else, just a woman—a woman with desires that had been left unchecked for far too long. Everything you did made her heart race, made her head spin. You were so fucking pretty. It was almost unbearable. Vi wanted to get lost in you, wanted to feel her lips all over your skin, wanted to explore every inch of you until she knew you as well as she knew herself.

And she respected your boundaries more than anything. She wanted you to feel safe with her, to feel cherished, to feel like there was no rush.

But god, it was hard.

Every time you turned to her and smiled that soft, shy smile, when your fingers brushed against hers so innocently, it felt like you were silently asking for more—though you weren’t. The way you looked at her sometimes, the way you held her gaze when your lips brushed against hers, made it nearly impossible to keep herself in check.

In different situations, at a party, or even just in her apartment or yours, she’d excuse herself for a moment, retreating to the bathroom or something, just to compose herself. She’d close her eyes and huff a hard and heavy sigh, shamelessly picture it all in her head until it drove her insane. Then, she’d go back to you, a bit more touchy and loving, standing even closer than before, unable to get her eyes to look away from you. She’d smile that charming smile of hers when you turn to look at her and tell you it was nothing—even though it wasn’t nothing. Not when her eyes would keep falling to your soft lips, her hands itching at her sides to touch you in places people aren’t allowed to see, and her jaw clenching at the sight of you in such a pretty dress or whatever outfit you decided to put together that day.

Vi wasn’t perfect. Sometimes, she was just someone who wanted to touch you, to hold you, to feel your body pressed against hers. Every time you looked up at her, those soft eyes that sparkled when they met hers, she couldn’t help but think how much she wanted to kiss you, to make you feel as good as you made her feel.

But she holds herself back every time. And she’s quite proud of herself, actually.

Tonight, though, something felt different.

Vi couldn’t put her finger on it, but she felt it deep in her bones. It wasn’t just the heat in the room or the way the soft glow of the TV flickered against your skin. It was the how you’d been leaning into her a little more tonight, just enough for her to notice the subtle shift in your body. And it wasn’t like before, when you’d shift away slightly or look at her with wide, hesitant eyes, unsure of the closeness.

Tonight, you didn’t do that. You leaned in closer.

Vi’s heart skipped a beat as she felt the warmth of your body pressing against hers. Her breath caught, the movie fading into the background as her attention narrowed to you. To the way your body fit so perfectly against hers. Her hand, which had been lazily resting on your waist, hands underneath your sweater, now slid lower, just a little bit—no big deal, just a gentle touch—but the way you didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away, made her pulse race. You didn’t look uncomfortable.

In fact, you looked like you were… waiting. Like you wanted her to touch you more.

Vi wasn’t one to back down from anything, but she had always been patient with you. Yet tonight, she felt the urge to push those boundaries just a little. Her fingertips slid from your waist to your hip, feeling the curve of you, the warmth of your skin beneath the soft fabric of your shirt.

Your breath hitched slightly, but you still didn’t pull away. Instead, your back arched just enough for her to notice, and your eyes flickered up to meet hers. That same shy smile of yours tugged at her heartstrings.

You didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Vi could swear there was something more in your gaze—something that matched the heat she felt rising inside her.

She could feel her chest tighten with as thoughts of you—only you—filled her mind.

She wanted you. So badly.

Her breath came out in soft, breathless whimpers, and your name—your sweet, simple name—fell from her lips like a prayer.

“Baby…” she whispered against you, closing her eyes and letting out soft sigh.

It was so desperate, so soft.

There was no mistaking the need in her voice, the way her breath quickened, the raw hunger she was trying so hard to control, to be gentle with you, but it was obvious to you now that she was practically using every bone in her body to stay patient.

You could feel it in every inch of her, in the way her hands trembled just slightly, in the way her breath hitched as shelingered just out of reach of the place you both knew she desperately wanted to touch.

She dropped her head to your shoulder, her forehead resting gently against the soft curve of your neck as if she was trying to hide her feelings, to keep herself under control, but you could feel it in the way her body tensed, in the way her hands hovered close to you, shaking with the effort of keeping her restraint. She was trying so hard to stay composed, to be gentle, but it was clear she was on the edge, barely holding it together.

She wanted you. Needed you. And her restraint was slipping away with every passing second.

“Vi…”

At the sound of your voice, so soft and gentle, Vi’s gaze snapped up to meet yours. Her eyes were wide, waiting, like she’d been waiting for this moment, for you to say something—anything—to pull her back in. She looked almost like a puppy, the look on her face soft and eager, her lips slightly parted as if she were holding her breath, waiting for you to speak again.

She searched your eyes desperately, wanting to know what you were thinking, what you wanted, because nothing else mattered more.

“I’m here,” she breathed out, barely more than a whisper.

She wanted you to know she was all in—her mind, her body, her heart. She was yours. And in that moment, it felt like nothing could tear her away from you.

“What do you need, baby?” she asked, the words falling from her lips desperately. “Tell me… please.”

Vi’s breath caught in her throat the moment you turned to face her, your eyes locking with hers as if everything else in the room disappeared. The movie was long forgotten by now and for a split second, Vi forgot how to breathe. God, you were so fucking pretty. She couldn’t help but melt as you reached up to gently brush a strand of her hair from her face.

She swallowed hard, fighting the urge to let out a shaky breath as you leaned in, your lips brushing against hers in the softest kiss she’d ever felt. It was sweet, but there was something more beneath it—something deeper.

You pulled away just enough for Vi to feel the coldness of the space left between you, and she immediately chased after your lips like a starved thing, her breath coming quicker, hands gripping your waist. Every inch of her body begged for you, aching to feel you pressed against her, to get closer, to melt into you until nothing else existed. She wanted more—needed more.

And then, your voice, soft and quiet, broke through the haze of her thoughts.

“I want you, Vi…” you whispered.

Your words were soft, almost shy, but they sent a wave of heat crashing through Vi’s chest. Her breath hitched at the sound of your voice, her heart racing even faster.

It was all she needed to hear.

She was lost in you, in the way you made her feel. She melted against you, her hands roaming up your sides, pulling you closer, her lips finding yours once again. This time, it was deeper, needier. She wanted you, more than she’d ever wanted anyone before. Every kiss, every touch, felt like it was both too much and not enough. Vi pulled you closer into her lap, her arms wrapping around you tightly as if she never wanted to let go.

“Fuck,” she whispered, voice shaky, a low groan escaping her throat as she pulled you even closer, her hands cupping the back of your head, deepening the kiss.

You could feel it—the heat building low in your stomach, the wetness pooling in your panties, spreading through your body in waves with every touch of Vi’s hands on your skin. Her grip was firm, her fingers tracing the curve of your waist like she was trying to memorize you. You gasped softly as she shifted you higher in her arms. It was impossible not to react to her—the way she looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, the way her voice dropped low and raspy when she whispered your name.

Vi couldn’t focus on anything else but you—your soft breath against her lips, your body pressed so close to hers, the way your fingers brushed against her skin. The movie was nothing but background noise now, and all she could think about how you felt, how you tasted, and how much she wanted you.

Without even realizing what she was doing, Vi pulled you closer, your legs straddling her waist. She could feel the weight of your body, the warmth of your skin, and the softness of your touch. You were everything she wanted and more, and Vi’s breath caught as she watched your eyes flicker with the same heat, the same desire that had been building for what felt like forever.

“Need you…” she whimpered, low and needy, her hands already moving to settle more firmly around your waist.

She didn’t give you a moment to think before she stood up, lifting you with ease, her strong arms, muscles flexing, supporting you as if you weighed nothing, as if she’d done this a thousand times before.

You instinctively wrapped your legs around her waist, your arms around her neck, and the heat of your body pressed against hers, the way you fit perfectly, like you were made to be in her arms. She could feel your pulse against her chest, your body trembling just slightly as she carried you through her apartment, heading toward the one place that she knew would be safe—her bedroom.

Vi’s hands moved carefully as she gently laid you down against her bed, her touch lingering on your waist for just a moment longer than necessary. Her body hovered over yours, but she didn’t lean in right away. She paused instead, pulling back slightly to look at you. And god, the way she looked at you—it was like nothing else existed in the world except for you.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks under her gaze, her eyes roaming your face. Vi wasn’t in a rush now, even if her body ached for you. She could feel her heart pounding, her breath uneven as she just… stared. You looked so fucking pretty, she thought, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

Her hands moved absently as she tugged at the hem of her own shirt, a random band tee she got on one of her birthdays, pulling it off in one quick motion and tossing it to the side without a second thought. Her toned body caught your attention immediately, and you felt your breath hitch as your eyes lingered on the taut muscles of her arms and the faint scars across her torso. But Vi didn’t even notice… not when her focus was entirely on you. She leaned back slightly, giving herself just enough room to drink you in.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured quietly, like the words weren’t meant for you to hear but spilled out anyway.

She reached for you again, her hands sliding over your waist as her thumbs brushed over your hips, thumbs tugging slightly on your shorts. Her mind was spinning, her heart hammering in her chest as she hovered over you. The reality of the moment hit her hard, making her stomach flip over and over.

Is this really happening? she thought, her hands trembling slightly as they rested on either side of your waist. Her throat tightened as she struggled to process it all. You’re really going to let me do this? You’re really trusting me like this?

She swallowed hard, her cheeks burning as her eyes roamed over your face. You were looking up at her with so much trust, and it was almost too much for her. Her chest ached in the best way, and a nervous, breathless laugh almost bubbled out of her throat. Vi was confident—she always had been—but this? This was something else entirely. This was someone she adored more than she could put into words, giving her something so special, so intimate, that she started to question if she even deserved it.

What did I do to deserve this? she thought, her mind racing. What did I do to deserve her?

Her palms grew clammy, nervous, and for a split second, she wondered if she was going to pass out from sheer excitement. Her head was spinning with a thousand thoughts—how to take her time, how to make it perfect, how to make sure you felt as loved and cherished as you deserved, as you made her feel.

“Vi,” you whispered softly, and she blinked, her trance breaking for just a moment as her eyes locked with yours.

Your breath caught as you reached up, your fingers gently brushing against her cheek. And as she dipped her head down, her lips brushing against yours in the softest kiss, you knew you were ready.

Vi’s fingers trembled slightly as they toyed with the hem of your shirt as she pulled back from the kiss for a moment. Her eyes darted between yours and the fabric she was clutching, her lips parted as though she was trying to find the right words.

Finally, she managed to ask, her voice low and almost shy, “Can I take this off?”

The eagerness in your nod made her breath hitch, and a soft, breathless laugh escaped her lips, sounding almost disbelieving.

“Okay,” she muttered under her breath, her cheeks pink and her grin wide as she tugged at your shirt gently, pulling it over your head.

“Oh, fuck,” she whispered as her hands came to rest gently on your waist again.

And she… stared again. Here eyes traced every curve and dip of your exposed skin. Her lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. You blushed hard as the seconds pass, squirming slightly under her gaze, biting your lip as you glanced away, feeling shy.

“Vi… Stop looking at me like that,” you mumbled, but Vi didn’t listen.

Instead, she laughed, lie and warm, and dropped her head to your shoulder. Her strong arms wrapped around your waist as she held you close, her breath warm against your skin.

“Sorry, baby… Can you blame me?” she murmured, her breath tickling your neck as she continued, “I’ve got the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen… looking up at me… waiting for me…”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but smile, even as you playfully shoved at her shoulder.

“Shut up,” you teased, though your voice betrayed the way your heart fluttered in your chest.

She smiled cheekily and lifted her head just enough to press a quick kiss to your neck, her lips lingering for a second longer than necessary. Her hands moved with softly as they slipped to the waistband of your shorts, her fingers brushing against your skin so lightly it sent shivers up your spine. She paused for a moment, as if giving you the chance to stop her, her gaze flickering back up to meet yours.

When you didn’t protest, only nodding softly with a nervous but eager look in your eyes, Vi let out a small, breathy laugh, the sound filled with both excitement and disbelief.

“Wanna make you feel good,” she murmured, more to herself than to you, and then she began to tug your shorts down your legs slowly.

Her calloused fingers grazed against the soft skin of your thighs as she worked them down. She didn’t rush, like she wanted to savor the moment, the sight of you beneath her, the way your breath hitched every time her fingers skimmed too close. She let the fabric fall to the floor before leaning back slightly, taking you in with wide, almost awestruck eyes.

“Perfect,” she whispered. Her hands rested on your knees, gently spreading them apart just enough for her to slip between your legs.

Her breath hitched as her eyes lingered on the damp spot on your panties. Her lips parted slightly, her tongue brushing over them. Her hands trembled just a little as she reached up, fingers grazing the straps of your bra.

“Let me,” she said.

You nodded, cheeks flushing as Vi carefully unhooked your bra and helped slide it off your shoulders. She tossed it aside, but her focus stayed entirely on you. Her gaze roamed over your tits, her hands smoothing up your sides. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your chest, then another lower, and another, her lips trailing down the valley between your breasts.

“My beautiful girl,” she whispered against your skin, her voice filled with awe and something deeper—something that made your heart race. Her kisses became firmer, needier, and you felt her nose nuzzle against the swell of your tits as she breathed you in, the pads of her thumbs softly rolling over your hard nipples.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh, your fingers threading through her short pink hair as her mouth moved lower, leaving hickeys as she went. Vi looked up at you briefly, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted as though she was about to say something. But instead, she simply smiled—soft and a little smug—and leaned back in, pressing another kiss to your lips that made your toes curl.

Vi’s voice was barely above a whisper, warm against your skin as her fingers toyed with the hem of your panties.

“Can I?” she asked, her thumbs hooked around the waistband, tugging gently, as though she was testing your reaction before going any further.

Her gaze flicked up to meet yours, her blue eyes searching, waiting for your answer. You nodded slowly, the movement almost shy, and Vi let out a soft, shaky breath, her lips curving into the faintest smile.

“Yeah?” she asked again.

“Yes, please…”

She smiled and hummed, leaning down to kiss your lips softly. Her fingers moved carefully, sliding your panties down your hips and over your legs, and the moment they were gone, she tossed them aside, her eyes never leaving you.

“I love you…” she murmured so quietly as she leaned back in, her hands settling on your thighs, pushing them apart to get a better look at your pussy. “So pretty…”

She pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, her lips lingering, her breath warm against your skin. Her hands, strong but gentle, rested on your knees as she eased them further apart, creating even more space for herself.

Her lips lingered just above your skin, her warm breath fanning against you as she whispered, “You’ll tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

You looked down at her, her face framed by the dim light filtering in, her pink hair tousled and her eyes staring with need and want, waiting for permission.

“I will,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat. Your fingers instinctively moved to thread through her hair, pulling her just a little closer. “I trust you, Vi.”

Vi smiled softly at your words, and the sight made your chest tighten.

“That’s my girl,” she whispered, her lips brushing your skin again, and then she kissed you, slow and deep, as her hands moved to hold your thighs, her thumbs tracing lazy circles over your skin.

Her breath hitched as her fingers dipped lower, finally brushing against the wetness that had been teasing her imagination all night. When she felt just how slick you were, her chest rose and fell with a shuddering sigh, her lips parting in awe.

“Fuck…” she whispered, her voice breaking softly as she let the sensation sink in.

Her forehead rested briefly against your thigh, and you could feel the way her breath trembled, betraying just how much she’d been holding back. You squirmed beneath her touch, your breath catching at the slow pressure of her fingers as she explored you. She looked up at you then, her eyes heavy-lidded.

“You’re so wet,” she whispered.

Her fingers teased along your folds, and when she finally slid one inside, the quiet, shaky groan that escaped her lips sent a jolt of heat through you. Your soft moan filled the room, and it sent a shiver straight down Vi’s spine. The way you reacted to her touch, the way your body seemed to move with hers—it was intoxicating. She couldn’t stop herself from curling her finger inside of your pussy, and the sound you made in response nearly undid her completely.

“Tell me how it feels,” she said softly, her eyes searching yours as her finger moved slowly, her thumb grazing over your skin. “I wanna know… everything.”

Your voice came out in a shaky breath, soft and airy as you tried to keep up with the overwhelming sensations.

“F-feels good, Vi—” you managed to whisper, your hands gripping at the sheets beneath you.

Vi’s breath hitched at your words, a flicker of pride and hunger lighting in her chest. She wanted to do good. For you. She paused only for a moment, her eyes never leaving your face as she carefully added another finger. The stretch was new, different, and it made you gasp sharply, your body tensing for just a second before melting into her bedsheets.

“Yeah?” Vi asked, raspier now, almost shaking with how much she wanted to do this right, to make you feel good.

Her lips brush over the soft skin of your inner thigh as she fucked her fingers deeper into your pussy, curling just right. Your moans spilled out, filling the room, and Vi felt her entire body tremble with excitement.

“God, you’re so tight,” she groaned, her movements growing a little more confident as she found a pace that made your hips buck and your head fall back.

She quickened her pace, completely entranced by you. The way your face twisted in pleasure—cheeks flushed, mouth parted with those soft moans—sent a bolt of heat straight through her. She couldn’t look away.

She whimpered softly as her thumb circled your clit, drawing a sharp gasp from you that sent a wave of pride through her. But what really did her in was how fucking wet you were, the way it coated her fingers, the lewd squelching sounds filling the room with every thrust. Her mouth went dry, and her stomach flipped as she watched her fingers disappear inside you over and over again.

“Oh, fuck,” Vi murmured, her voice husky and low, almost as if she were talking to herself. “You’re so—so wet… baby, I—”

She cut herself off with a groan, unable to even form a coherent sentence, too lost in how good you felt clenching around her fingers. Her thumb pressed harder against your clit, rubbing slow circles that had your back arching and your hands clawing at the sheets.

You looked so fucking pretty, it made her head spin.

Vi’s breath was shaky as she moved her fingers faster, desperate to pull you over the edge. Her thumb never faltered, pressing and circling your clit with just the right pressure.

She leaned closer, her forehead brushing yours, her voice soft but needy as she whimpered, “Tell me how good it feels, baby. Please… I need to hear you.”

Your moans spilled from your lips like music to her ears. She couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t slow down—not when she felt the way your wet pussy fluttered around her fingers, not when she could see how close you were.

“It’s so good, Vi—oh my god, it feels so good,” you managed to gasp, your voice breaking as your hips bucked against her hand.

Her focus entirely fixated on you, on the way your body responded to her touch. Her biceps flexed with every thrust into your pussy, the veins in her arms standing out as she poured herself into the task of making you fall apart. She groaned softly as she watched her fingers disappear into you, only to reappear glistening and slick before plunging back inside. The sound of it—the wet squelch—had her nearly delirious.

“So fucking pretty like this, baby.”

Her pace quickened, her fingers curling with precision, hitting that spot that had your back arching off the mattress. Your moans grew louder, less controlled, and Vi swore she could feel your body trembling as your thighs quivered against her.

“V-Vi! I-I’m gonna… cum! Gonna cum—“

“That’s it, pretty girl,” she rasped, her lips parted as she leaned closer, her forehead brushing against your stomach. She looked up briefly, her eyes dark as she took in the sight of you. “You’re so close—I can feel it. Cum for me, yeah? Please, I need to feel you.”

And then it happened.

Your body arched, your moans spilling out in broken cries as you clenched tightly around her fingers. Vi groaned loudly, the sound guttural and needy, as she felt you come undone around her. But she didn’t stop—not yet. Her fingers kept moving, her thumb circling your clit as she worked you through every wave of pleasure, desperate to draw it out for as long as she could.

“Fuck, that’s it,” she whispered, “You’re so good for me, baby. So, so good.”

Vi let out a breath, a soft sigh of disbelief, as she pulled her fingers from you slowly after she let you ride out your high, her gaze never leaving your face. Her fingers were glistening with your cum, and she couldn’t help but stare in awe. The way you looked—completely undone, lost in pleasure—had her feeling like she was floating, the reality of what had just happened still sinking in.

Blue eyes traced the curve of your body, watching the way your skin glistened with sweat. She couldn’t help it—her mind blanked, a single thought echoing through her: God, she’s so fucking pretty. She was overwhelmed, feeling like she could never get enough of you, of the way your body responded to her, how perfect you were in her eyes, like you were made just for this. Every movement, every little breath, it was all just… mesmerizing.

She brought her fingers up and slid slowly them into her mouth, her gaze never leaving you as she savored the taste of you on her tongue. Oh, fuck! She needed more. Without thinking, her hands moved quickly, spreading your thighs further apart and her voice came out in a soft, needy whisper.

“Gotta taste you… just real quick,” she murmured so quietly, you barely heard it.

A gasp escaped your lips before you could process anything else, your body already reacting before your mind caught up. Instinctively, your fingers tangled in the strands of Vi’s pink hair, pulling hard, making her groan right into your wet pussy.

This was when you learned that Violet was a messy eater.

Her tongue pressed against folds, inside of you, occasionally sucking around your clit, the feeling of her mouth, wet and needy, sent a shiver through you. You couldn’t help but notice how she lost herself, her sounds louder and messier than you’d expected—like she was devouring you. She slurped everything up and you could feel yourself dripping and soaking her bedsheets beneath you.

God, her tongue felt so fucking good. It was almost too good. Fuck, she’s so good at this.

“V-Vi—” you cried out, your voice trembling, but she didn’t seem to hear you.

You tugged at her hair to let her know you were close, that you were going to cum again, and she didn’t slow down. If anything, it only spurred her on, her mouth sucking and slurping more and more, faster and harder. You cried out, the tension building in your lower body, and before you could even process it, she quickened her pace, her hands shifting from your thighs to intertwine with yours. The way she gripped your hand made you feel like she was holding you in place, ensuring you couldn’t pull away, even if you tried.

“I-I’m cumming again—Fuck—Vi-Violet!”

With a final gasp, your body tensed, waves of pleasure crashing over you. The wave hit you all at once, and you came right on her tongue, your breath ragged, moans slipping from your lips uncontrollably. Vi held you through it, her grip on your hand tightening, her tongue slowing down on your pussy.

After a while, she finally lifted her head up and looked at you, her eyes half-lidded and hazy with exhaustion, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. Her face was flushed, her skin slick with sweat, and her chin glistened with your cum, like she was wearing it with pride.

She moved slowly, her lips trailing up your body. Her kisses were gentle at first, but the further she traveled, the more urgent they became, each one pressing deeper against your skin, right over each mark and hickey are left behind earlier. She kissed your stomach, your ribs, each kiss a little firmer, a little more hungry, until she reached your chest, her breath mingling with the heat of your skin.

When she finally reached your neck, she paused, her breath shaky against your skin, and you felt the faintest tremor under her fingertips. Then, without warning, she was kissing you again, her lips pressing against yours with a hunger that mirrored the one she’d just left between your legs, whimpering and moaning right into your mouth. You could taste yourself on her lips, a faint sweetness that made your pulse quicken all over again.

When the kiss broke, both of you were breathless, your lips swollen and tingling. Vi pulled back slightly, her eyes heavy-lidded, a soft smile playing on her lips as she gazed down at you.

“I love you,” she said.

You barely caught your breath, the lingering aftershocks from everything that had just passed through your body.

“I love you, too,” you managed to say, words coming out breathlessly.

Her smile softened, her gaze melting into something tender as she stared down at you.

She bit her lower lip nervously before asking, “Did I do okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile lovingly at her, your heart swelling with affection. Without a word, your hands reached up to brush the mess of pink hair from her face, the softness of the gesture grounding you both in the moment. Her hair was tangled, strands sticking to her skin, but she was beautiful—more than beautiful, especially in this moment where everything felt real and raw.

“It felt… so good, Violet… You were perfect,” you whispered.

She held your gaze, her eyes flickering relief and pride. You leaned up slightly, brushing your lips against her forehead in a tender kiss, as if to reinforce what you’d just said. Perfect. In every way.

Vi’s lips curled into a smug, satisfied smile as she heard you, and you couldn’t help but notice the gleam in her eyes—proud, almost playful, like she knew exactly what she had just done to you. Without missing a beat, she leaned down, pressing soft, teasing kisses along your neck. She let herself collapse on top of you, her body heavy and warm, her big, strong muscles wrapping around you firmly. She nuzzled her face into your neck, her breath warm against your skin, close to your ear.

“I… I’m gonna let you rest, but…” She said quietly, almost shy. She paused, just for a moment, before continuing, her words sending a thrill through you, “I wanna go again...“

You looked up at her, eyes widening slightly as you tried to catch your breath. Your arms wrapped around her loosely around her neck, your fingers brushing the hairs at the back of her head. Vi sighed at the feeling, closing her eyes for a brief moment before opening them again to look at you, to plead with her eyes.

“Can we?”

That playful, confident side of her was back again, and you knew then, with absolute certainty, that you were in for a very long night.

thank u for reading :) | masterlist

[bluemoonscape]

No no listennnn it’s the way Obi-Wan drags out the first ‘a’ in Anakin’s name. It’s the way everyone else ignores the hyphen in Obi-Wan’s name and runs it all together but Anakin pronounces every syllable slowly and clearly. It’s how Anakin was the only constant in Obi-Wan’s life from the time Qui-Gon died, how he threw all of his energy into keeping Anakin safe and sheltered, because he’d already seen too many horrors as a slave. It’s about how Anakin went to Obi-Wan’s room every night for a year because he was afraid he would disappear like Qui-Gon and his mom, and Obi-Wan lost sleep because he doesn’t know how to swim. It’s how Anakin grumbled and complained about Obi-Wan’s teaching to others because his feelings were so muddled and confused and yet he would die for him in a heartbeat and thrived on his approval. How Anakin, hours after losing his mom horrifically and suddenly, threw himself into a battle with Count Dooku on Geonosis and lost his arm to save Obi-Wan because he couldn’t lose him too. How Obi-Wan tried to steer Anakin from attachment but in the process became irrevocably attached himself, admitting multiple times to loving Anakin, passing down the gift his own Master gave him for his birthday years ago that meant nothing to Obi-Wan when he got it but meant everything to Anakin because it was from Obi-Wan, holding onto Anakin’s lightsaber and cloak when all else of him was lost, taking care of his children because they were living pieces of him. It’s that they called each other and asked after the other constantly when they’re apart during the Clone Wars. It’s that Ahsoka was technically Anakin’s Padawan but they thought of her as theirs and she called them her parents to others. It’s the little things like Anakin modifying Obi-Wan’s R4 droid to look like his own R2 unit. It’s the big things like them being able to sense one another from lightyears away even after Anakin turns. It’s Obi-Wan willfully turning a blind eye to Anakin’s violations of the code because he wanted him to be happy more than he wanted him to be a good Jedi. Anakin still referring to him as “Master” even after their apprenticeship is over, to their last battle; Anakin wishing that Obi-Wan would stay with him in his time of need rather than go to fight General Grievous and end the war; that they were the greatest Jedi to live, at the end of the age of heroes, “the best for last” and they were so insanely, disgustingly, beyond attached despite the Code’s teachings on what made a Jedi good, and they were the best. They were the best because they were together. Because they were Kenobi and Skywalker and that became one name, the name of the Open Circle Fleet, name of the greatest duo the Jedi had ever seen. I consider almost nothing from the sequel trilogy canon EXCEPT for the force dyad because you can’t tell me they weren’t one and never even knew because that was just how they were. They just figured they matched each other’s freak too hard. That’s just them.

[rafeyssugar]

baby girl

rafe treats y/n like she’s made of glass. like she’s something soft, delicate—something his.

and she lets him. because how could she not? when he’s always looking at her like that? when his touch is always so gentle?

like now—when she pouts at him from the passenger seat, arms crossed, lips pursed in that way that makes him weak.

“what?” he asks, fighting back a smirk, reaching over to squeeze her thigh.

“you didn’t let me carry the bags.”

rafe exhales, shaking his head. “because you don’t need to. what kind of boyfriend would i be if i let you carry heavy shit, huh?”

y/n huffs, turning to the window. “they weren’t even that heavy.”

and that’s when he knows—she’s just being a brat.

so he leans over at a red light, pressing a kiss to her temple. “my sweet girl,” he murmurs, lips dragging down to her jaw. “so spoiled, huh?”

she mumbles something under her breath, but he catches it—“not spoiled.”

he just grins. “nah, you are, angel. i made you that way.”

because he does spoil her. carries her bags, opens her doors, pulls her into his lap just because. worships her. and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

so when they get home, and she starts trying to grab the shopping bags again, he just tuts, plucking them right out of her hands.

“what did i say, baby?”

she pouts up at him. “but—”

rafe just shakes his head, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “no buts. let me take care of you.”

she lets out a dramatic sigh but doesn’t argue, instead watching as he carries all the bags inside like it’s nothing.

“you know,” she says, plopping onto the couch, stretching like a cat, “i could have helped.”

rafe raises a brow, setting the bags down before making his way over to her. “oh yeah?”

“yeah.”

he hums, settling beside her, pulling her into his lap with ease. “but you like when i baby you, huh?”

she rolls her eyes, but he sees the way her lips twitch, how she doesn’t move away when he starts pressing slow, lazy kisses to her neck.

“admit it,” he murmurs, voice low, teasing. “you like being my spoiled little baby girl.”

she exhales, tilting her head slightly as he keeps kissing, hands gripping at his shirt.

“maybe.”

rafe chuckles, pulling back to look at her. “yeah?”

she shrugs, playing with the collar of his shirt, but when she finally looks up, she’s got that look in her eyes—the one that makes him weak. the one that tells him she’s just as obsessed with him as he is with her.

so he kisses her—slow, deep, like he’s got all the time in the world.

when they finally pull apart, he brushes a thumb over her cheek, voice soft. “good girl.”

-

now she’s curled up in his lap, fingers lazily playing with the chain around his neck, lips slightly swollen from how he’d kissed her stupid just moments ago.

and he can’t help himself.

his hands roam—slow, lazy, like he’s got nowhere else to be. one hand resting on the small of her back, the other tracing patterns along her bare thigh, dipping beneath the hem of her shorts.

“you tired, baby?” he murmurs, voice soft, knowing.

y/n hums, blinking up at him, looking dazed, floaty. “a little.”

he smiles, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “you wanna nap?”

she makes a noise, nuzzling closer, pressing her face into his neck. “mmm. just wanna sit here.”

and his heart melts.

because she’s never really said it, but he knows—knows she feels safest when she’s with him, tucked against him like this, wrapped up in his warmth.

so he just hums, rubbing slow circles into her back. “yeah? my lap comfy, huh?”

she nods, sighing contentedly. “mhm. best seat in the house.”

rafe chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “yeah, ‘cause it’s your seat, angel.”

she doesn’t respond, but the way she sighs again, soft and sweet, is enough.

he keeps holding her, fingers tracing slow, absentminded shapes against her skin, lips pressing light, fleeting kisses to her temple, her forehead, her jaw.

and when he feels her breathing even out, feels her relax completely in his arms, he knows she’s drifted off.

he smiles to himself, tightening his hold just a little, letting his head rest against the couch.

yeah, he thinks, pressing one last kiss to her forehead. he could hold her like this forever.

-

rafe doesn’t move—not even an inch. not when his leg starts going numb, not when his arm starts to tingle. because y/n is asleep, all warm and tucked against him, and he’d rather die than wake her up.

his baby girl—soft, sweet, always pressed up against him like she belongs there. (she does.)

he’s careful as he shifts just slightly, just enough to cup the back of her head, fingers threading into her hair. she stirs a little, sighing in her sleep, pressing closer.

rafe just smiles, running a thumb over her cheek. she looks so peaceful like this, face smushed against his chest, lips parted, lashes fluttering faintly.

he has to kiss her.

so he does—just a light press of his lips to her forehead, lingering for a second before pulling away.

but she feels it.

she exhales softly, shifting in his lap, stretching like a cat before blinking up at him, still sleepy, still floaty.

“…how long was i out?” her voice is quiet, groggy.

rafe grins, brushing some hair from her face. “’bout an hour.”

her brows furrow slightly. “you let me sleep that long?”

“‘course i did, angel.” his fingers move down, tracing the side of her neck, his voice dropping slightly. “you looked too pretty to wake up.”

her lips part slightly, and rafe knows he’s got her.

he smirks, dragging his hand down her arm, slow, teasing. “feel good?”

y/n nods, still dazed, blinking at him like she’s not sure if she’s awake or still dreaming.

rafe hums, tilting his head. “yeah? what feels good, baby?”

she exhales. “you.”

and he’s done for.

he cups her face, tilting it up as he leans in, lips brushing hers—soft, teasing. “yeah?”

“mhm.” her hands slide up his chest, gripping his shirt weakly, like she’s trying to pull him closer, but he’s already as close as he can be.

“wanna kiss?” he murmurs, voice low, teasing.

she nods again, breath hitching slightly. “please.”

rafe grins before finally—finally—closing the distance, kissing her soft and slow, like he’s got all the time in the world.

because he does. because he’s not going anywhere.

when they finally pull apart, she exhales, nuzzling into him, hands still fisted in his shirt.

rafe just chuckles, running a hand down her back. his baby girl.

more daddy!rafe

y/n trying to smoke

love bites

teaching y/n how to kiss

[sunflowerwinds]

talking body | v.a

summary: when black haired hot head pitfigher vi catches your eye at a club, you’re determined to get your hands on her. taking her home with you reveals a side you never thought she had.

pairing: fem!reader x pitfighter!vi arcane

contains: mature language and content (18+), bratty!vi (if you squint), sub!vi (WE CHEER), soft!dom!reader, munch!vi, thigh riding, vi is going through it :/, light mommy kink (it’s mentioned a few times. if it’s not your thing, don’t read!)

word count: 3.8K

a/n: …. i’ve never written anyone but the reader being submissive so let me know if this satisfies everyone!also thank you to my love nat for opening my eyes to the mommy realm <3

The first time you saw Vi wasn’t at a pit fight.

No, it was at the club that was above the pit fighting arena. You and your small friend group would go often to said club, drinking to forget about the miserable lives you were living in Zaun. You saw her across the strobe-lit floor, weaving in between bodies with heavy feet dragging across the ground and a glass of who-knows-what in her bandaged hand.

Her oil black hair with matching eye makeup and wrapped chest that she wore as a shirt pulled you in.

You were… entranced by her.

But as soon as you had locked your eyes on her, your friend tapped your shoulder to hand you another drink for the night. When you looked back eagerly in hopes of finding her, she had disappeared in the sea of local Zaunites.

After that night, you never thought you would see the woman again. It was another night at the club when one of your friends informed you of the pit fight just a level down, asking if that was something you were down to go to.

Unfamiliar with the underground ring, you agreed to tag along. You were curious about what these pit fights entailed.

Your friend led you down a hidden passageway from behind the large bar area in the club, shouting to be careful with your steps. You nodded to show you heard her, glancing down at your heeled boot-covered feet to make sure you wouldn’t trip and bust your ass.

Rounding a few more corners, you were blinded by bright lights and a huge crowd. Before you could register where you were, your friend sped up her movements when she heard the cheering grow louder with excitement. You held up a hand to cover your sensitive eyes as you let her guide you to a seat.

As you peek through other sweaty bodies to see down into the round pit in the middle, you spot a familiar head of hair. Your eyes squint as you duck to try and get a better glimpse of that irritatingly attractive stranger. The large man in front of you, cursing at the fight below finally stepped to the side in frustration to leave his spot.

There circling her opponent with smudged black eye makeup and dried blood seeping in her bandages was that fleeting woman from that night. It was undeniably her.

Her movements were so similar to that night. There was no doubt in your mind that she was intoxicated. You couldn't blame her. Taking this many hits to the head had to mess with you.

“She’s so your type!” Your friend shouts over the crowd.

You watch her deliver a few more hard punches to her opponent, the body becoming unconscious and hitting the hard concrete ground. Her fist raises in the air to show her victory.

She absolutely was.

That night ignited a determination to get closer to the pit fighter in however many ways you could. You wondered what she sounded like, if she would flirt with you, and if she did, if you would seduce her into coming home with you to give her the time of her life.

Another week passed before you saw her again. Another club, another night to get fucking wasted and fuck some random girl. That is until you saw her sitting at the bar instead of messily dancing through the drunken bodies on the dance floor.

Her back was turned, her head slightly tilted down but you could tell it was her. She sported a heavy leather jacket with a hybrid wolf painted on the back of it.

You glance down at your own outfit, adjusting the way the top was fitting on your breasts. Your short-short’s hug your hips and plump thighs, the see-through fishnet tights underneath the shorts decorating your legs.

Before you walk over to her, you inform your friends of what you are going to accomplish: getting into the hot pit-fighters pants. They all wished you good luck and sent thumbs-ups before you went on your way.

Pushing your way through sweaty bodies, you find yourself sitting on the stool right next to her. You sneak a few glances at her hunched-over figure, admiring the slope of her nose and the smudged black makeup underneath her eyes.

Her long pointer finger was tracing the rim of the glass, the drink seeming to still be full. You wondered why she hadn’t drunk it yet.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

Her voice was softer than you were expecting. Her words were somewhat slurred, revealing her clear intoxication. Her harsh words threw you off your game for a split second but you brushed it off.

“I’m just looking to get a drink,” you reply slyly, not fully facing her just yet. “You need a new one?”

You motion to her full drink, tilting your body towards her now. Her eyes flicker to said cup then to your frame right next to her. Her eyebrows rose for a moment as she checked you out. She tried to be discreet but her eyes were slower paced than she thought they were.

You had to hold back a triumphant grin when they lingered on your chest the longest.

“I’m fine, thanks,” she told you as her fingers wrapped around the glass to lift it to her lips.

You watched as her throat bobbed as she downed the hard liquor, tilting your head to now check her out herself. After setting her glass back down, she pinched the bridge of her bandaged nose.

“Are you alright? You look pretty beaten up there,” you hum, a frown on your face as you lean in a little closer.

She shook her head to try and wave off the obvious pain that was settling in her head.

“‘M fine. Can take a few hits, dollface.”

You couldn't help the satisfied grin that spread onto your face at the pet name.

“Never said you couldn’t,” you shrug your shoulders.

The bartender walked over to you two, jerking his head to you as a silent question. You ask him for a singular shot of tequila, needing some more confidence to get to relax. Once he sets the shot down on the slightly sticky counter, you down it immediately with a soft sigh.

“I think those hits to the head made you not good at taking hints though.” You hum as you set the shot glass aside.

Her head turns at your words, the subtle raise of her eyebrows making you tilt your head as a challenge.

“If you want, I could help ease that ache you have in that pretty head,” you hum as your finger raises delicately to trace her wrapped arms, watching her fingers twitch. “My place is not too far from here.”

You can see the gears in her head turning, contemplating your offer. The flashing lights from behind the two of you only increase her pounding headache.

“Do I get a name, dollface?” She hums, now fully turning her body towards you.

You hold back the moan in your throat now seeing her up close like this. The torn skinny jeans clinging onto her thighs delectably and her broad shoulders that you would want to sink your teeth into. You even noticed the scar on her lip, making her all the more beautiful.

You lean into her ear to tell her your name, pulling away to peer into her light blue eyes.

“And yours?”

Her eyes flicker down to your lips for a moment before pouring into your own: “Vi.”

The second your apartment door shut behind Vi, you practically shoved her into the small space to attack her hungrily. Vi released a soft noise at your lips attaching to hers, and her hands instantly found your waist.

Your hands slithered up the back of her head, fingers entangling with her oil-back hair. It was definitely dried out and damaged but hearing her moan soft against your lips as you tug at the strands made it an insignificant detail.

You pull away to ghost your mouth over her own, smirking to yourself at the way she tried to follow your addicting lips. That hair pull flipped a switch inside Vi, a shiver running down her spine.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you teasingly scold as you place a hand on her bandaged chest to keep her back. “So impatient, baby.”

Vi huffs out a flustered sigh at your words, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her hands were tightened in fists resting on your hips. You lean in ever so slightly to graze your lips over hers, listening to her breathing stutter. You mischievously smile as her eyes flutter shut, preparing for another kiss.

Oh, you were going to have fun with her.

Taking her chances, Vi leans forward to ghost her lips over yours still. Her breathy whine makes your knees buckle.

“Can I taste you?”

You preen at the question, a lightbulb going off in your head. If you were right about the woman, she would do pretty much whatever you asked. You test that by raising your hand up to her bottom lip, using your thumb to tug down the plump skin.

Vi’s once harsh blue eyes soften, rounding with submission as you release her lip with a satisfied smirk. Your eyes flicker to your couch that is a few feet away, jerking your head over to it.

“How about you go and sit on the couch for me, yeah?” You nod, placing a feather-soft kiss on the tattoo of her name on her cheek.

Vi opens her mouth but shuts it when you raise your brows to challenge her to test it. She made her way over to the couch, keeping her eyes on you as she slowly sat down on the cushion. You follow her in pursuit, standing in front of her awaiting figure. You notice her knee bouncing with impatience, raising your hands to rest on her leather-covered shoulders.

Your couch was low enough so her head was right in front of the zipper of your shorts but her eyes were only focused on your face awaiting instruction. Your hand cups her face, rubbing your thumb over her chin. Vi lifts her chin to lean into your touch as a shaky breath leaves her lips.

“Can you take off my shorts for me?” You run your thumb over her bottom lip, a sweet smile plastered on your face.

Vi nods as she raises her bandaged arms to the button of your shorts, unhooking it from the loop. She tugs the zipper down to expose the waistband of your fishnet tights and black lace panties. Vi sucked in a deep breath at the sight, looking up at you for another instruction.

“Keep going, baby,” you chuckle as you shift your hips back and forth so she can tug the shorts down your legs.

You raise your feet a bit to kick off the shorts, pushing them aside on the ground. Vi’s lengthy fingers hooked on the holes of the fishnets, tugging your hips closer to her face to place a few kisses right underneath your belly button. Your right-hand cradles the back of her head, sighing at the feeling.

Her lips hover right above your public bone, her impatient breathing causing your hips to buck forward.

“Can I? Please?”

Vi was begging now, her hands gripping onto the meat of your thighs. Her eyes were desperate as she placed more kisses through your panties.

“Please what?” You pant, biting your lip at her neediness.

“Please, mommy.”

Vi whines looking up at you with desperation, craving your taste. A shiver traces your spine at her words, never realizing how arousing it was to have someone be so desperate for you.

“So good for me,” you hum as you signal for her to go on. “Go ahead, baby.”

Eager to please, Vi’s fingers hook onto the fishnets where your opening was and stretch it so hard that the fabric rips. The tear causes you to jump but beam at her hunger for you. She pushes your panties to the side, placing soft kisses up your thighs before diving into your sopping cunt.

You gasp at her tongue sliding through your folds slowly, lifting one of your legs to rest on the couch to open up more for her. Vi’s arm hooks underneath your thigh to tug you closer, sloppily licking through your folds.

Your fingers run through her hair to push it out of her face to stare down at her beautiful face. Her eyes were shut, moaning against you to add extra stimulation. You hum as you roll your hips against her face, her nose brushing your sensitive clit.

“Fuck, Vi. Doing so good for me,” you praise her movements.

Vi whimpers at the encouraging words, not slowing down her relentless tongue.

“You taste so good,” the black-haired girl underneath you pulls away to whine for a moment to catch her breath.

You hold back your moan at the dim lighting of a lamp in your apartment highlighting the sight of your slick glistening on her lips and chin. It was simply one of the most erotic things you’d ever seen.

“How good?” You tease as she leans back in to wrap her lips around your throbbing clit.

Vi looks up at you through hooded eyes, eyes glimmering with submission. “So fucking good.”

Your cunt clenches around nothing as she whines into your folds. Her tongue laps with determination as she feels your thighs tense up as your orgasm rapidly approaches. Vi wanted, needed you to cum on her face and she wanted to do whatever it took to get you there. She wanted to lather her face in your arousal just to see your beautiful eyes roll back into your head.

“You look so pretty eating my pussy, baby,” you praise. “So pretty.”

Oh, how much Vi ached for the sweet words you were giving her. She was heavy breathing and whimpering against your drenched cunt as her arm grips onto your thighs so that you wouldn't dare pull away. Your lower abdomen tightened as she raised her fingers to your soaked folds, teasing your entrance with her middle and pointer fingers.

Your hips jerk forward as she carefully tests the waters, inching only her middle finger inside of you. You knew Vi’s fingers were lengthy but feeling them inside of you opened your eyes to how close you were getting to your orgasm.

“Oh my, fuck,” you nod as encouragement for her to continue her movements. “Vi.”

A moan releases from the depth of Vi’s throat at how you said her name, vibrating against your cunt. Your hands were gripping onto her hair as leverage. Your knees were becoming jelly as your stomach tightened, warning you that you were approaching your orgasm.

“‘M gonna cum. Fuck, I’m close. Just like that, baby.”

Vi kept her eager pace, finger-fucking you as her tongue attacked your sensitive clit. Heat settled in your back as your hips stuttered against her face. Her eyes were trained on your twisted features as you came against her mouth.

She lapped up the cum selfishly, now using her other hand to settle on your lower back to push your hips more onto her face if that was even possible. You shiver as you chase the orgasm, trying to catch your breath at the overstimulation.

You mutter curses to yourself, attempting to calm down. Vi’s tongue and fingers slow to help with coming down from the intensity.

“How many girls have you done that too, fuck?” You chuckle, seriously wondering where she learned to do that.

Vi merely blinked up at you, breathing heavily herself. Her eyes were wide with anticipation and lingering submission.

“Was I good?” She questions, her fingers stilled inside of you.

You almost laugh in her face at the question but nod with a bright grin.

“You were so good for mommy, baby,” you coo as you caress her face.

Vi leans into your touch, shutting her eyes. You were never so intimate with hookups. It was usually you ate them out, they ate you out, and/or they fucked you or you fucked them and they left with no more than a few degrading words and harsh kisses.

This was a nice change of pace as far as one-night stands go.

“But what about you, huh? I bet you're so wet down there, angel.”

Vi nods to confirm, a beautiful whine leaving her swollen lips. You beam at the sound, glancing down at her skinny jean-cladded thighs when an idea sparked in your brain.

“Get up and take off your pants and underwear for me, yeah?” You instruct as you remove your leg carefully as it is still a bit sensitive from the orgasm.

Vi stood up on her heavy booted feet, shrugging off her leather jacket that you hadn’t even realized she had kept on this whole time. She must’ve been sweating in that thing. Confirming your suspicions, you watch as beads of sweat trickle down her toned back and shoulders. You wanted to lick it off of her, your tongue tracing every line of ink that was etched onto her pale skin.

Maybe another time if she so chooses.

This time, you sat back on the couch with your legs spread. You suck in a deep breath as she tugs down her briefs, avoiding eye contact with you. You had a confidence boost at how timid she ended up being in the bedroom compared to when you first met. She was nothing but snippy towards you.

Now look at her. Her briefs had an obvious wet patch on them but you were too focused on how gorgeous her body is.

“Look at you,” you praise as you hold your hands out to invite her into your lap.

Vi sucks in a deep breath as she makes her way over to you, eyes trained on yours. You send a sweet grin as you mutter ‘good girl’ as she straddles your left thigh. The feeling of her drenched cunt against your fishnet-cladded thighs sends a shiver down your spine.

It’s like she had read your mind.

Her hips greedily ground down on your thigh, visibly shaking at the relief she was getting. Your hands hold at her toned waist, watching her abs contract and the goosebumps rise to her pale skin.

“Does it feel good, baby?” You hum, running your palms up her torso.

Vi nods with a whimper, her hair falling in front of her face.

“Need to cum,” she mutters.

Your eyebrows raise as an amused, almost taunting chuckle at how fast she needed to cum.

“Oh, baby, you were really aching, huh?” You tease as you lean forward to place a few kisses over her bandaged chest.

Through hooded eyes, she cranes her neck to capture your lips into a soft kiss. You hum against her mouth as you can still taste your arousal still lingering on her lips, swiping your tongue over her bottom.

She mutters as she pulls away for a moment to whisper: “Wanted you to cum first.”

You can’t help but smile so wide that your teeth clank against one another. You move on from her lips to mutter sweet nothings into the crook of her neck, licking over the gear tattoo on the side neck. The shivers and moans that follow only encourage your filthy motives.

As her hips pick up their movements, you pull away to look down at your thigh that was glistening from her slick. Vi’s strong hands were resting on your shoulders as she was craving her orgasm that was mocking her.

Her already smudged black eyeshadow was somehow even more messy at this point. The sounds of her begging and moaning to cum were addicting.

“‘M gonna cum. Can I?” She shivers as she places a weak kiss on your lips.

Her brows furrow and her mouth falls permanently open as her pathetic moans leave her throat.

“Cum for me. You’re so— fuck, Vi.” You nodded as you sat back to watch her movements pick up.

Her desperate ‘ah’s’ fill the small space of your living room, folding her body over to rest her head on your shoulder. Your hands were settled on her waist, encouraging her to keep going.

Vi’s orgasm tore through her body, her grip on you tightening for a few seconds to try and hold herself up. Her whole body shook, her shoulders heaving up and down rapidly.

“Just like that. Good girl, Vi. So good,” you praise as you run your hand up her back. “Did so good.”

Vi’s forehead was still resting on your shoulder as she tried to catch her breath now more tilted into the crook of your neck. She huffs as she carefully sits up, removing her hands from your shoulders.

“Hey, it’s okay. Be careful.”

Your hands moved back down from her mid-back to rest on her hips.

After a few more minutes of the two of you letting yourselves calm down, the two had peed and washed your hands after your orgasms. You were awaiting the woman to come from your bathroom as you had moved to your bedroom.

Vi immediately asked if she could sleep at yours for the night. You smile at her tired state, slow sighs leaving her lips as she crawls onto your bed with her briefs back on now.

Your whole body was light as you allowed yourself to relax on the mattress, slow breathing as you were fighting sleep. Vi’s head was resting on your chest, bandaged arms curled around your torso. You hesitantly raise your hand to run your fingers through her hair, watching her eyes flutter shut at the feeling. Her lips brush past your collarbone as you feel her open her mouth, thinking she is going to kiss you.

What happens next throws you off guard.

“Cait.”

You blink at the mutter of a name you swore wasn’t yours leaving Vi’s lips. You wait for a moment to see if she does it again but she seems to be only muttering nonsense to herself. Feeling like it was inappropriate, you don’t speak on the matter, watching her drift off into a deep slumber.

You couldn’t even be mad at the woman, assuming what she might be feeling at the moment. And you were just too tired to care that much.

Vi doesn’t seem to notice her slip-up and knocks out against your chest, body stilling. You stare down at the slope of her nose and the small of her eyelashes and wonder who the hell could she be heartbroken over.

And if you wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of soft sobbing, you won’t say anything either.

TAG-LIST: @tearouthearts @onyxherman @prwttiestbunny @pumpkin-eater28 @redheadsyd @cherry-n-cheeks @lunatakashi18 @caicreations @ayooooohush

[realmsofdreams]

fire in my blood, steel in my spine.

pairing: cregan stark x fem!reader

summary: in the harsh, frostbitten lands of the north, you, the fierce valyrian-blooded wife of cregan stark, find your world unraveling with the return of arra norrey. pregnant with your first child, your strength is tested as arra’s presence stirs doubt and jealousy, threatening your place as lady of winterfell.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, jealousy, pregnancy, emotional turmoil, mild suggestive themes.

author notes: hi! in this one-shot, i picture the reader as having valyrian blood running through their veins, but without the signature silver hair or purple/blue eyes like the targaryens. however, they do speak high valyrian and ride dragons just like them. of course, this is an imagine, so feel free to picture the reader with any appearance you like. as always, enjoy and happy reading!

“do you think the babe will have your eyes?”

cregan’s voice rumbled low, a rare softness threading through it as he rested a hand on the swell of your belly. the fire crackled in the hearth, his calloused fingers traced absent circles over your gown, and for a moment, the world felt warm, safe.

you tilted your head to meet his gaze, your dark hair spilling over your shoulder like ink against the pale furs.

“i hope they have yours,”

you murmured, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

“grey like the north, steady and strong.”

he chuckled, a sound that vibrated through you, grounding you.

“strong, aye. but they’ll have your fire, i reckon. that valyrian blood of yours, it burns brighter than any hearth.”

you wanted to hold onto that moment, to bottle it and keep it close. your hand found his, pressing it tighter against your stomach, where the babe stirred faintly.

“a wolf with dragon’s blood,”

you said, your voice teasing but laced with pride.

“the north won’t know what to make of them.”

“nor will i,”

he admitted, his grey eyes softening as they held yours.

“but i’ll love them all the same. as i love you.”

the words wrapped around you like a cloak, and you leaned into him, resting your head against his chest. his heartbeat was steady, a drumbeat against the howling wind outside.

but the peace shattered when the doors creaked open, a servant stepping in with a hesitant bow.

“my lord, my lady… arra norrey has arrived. she’s in the great hall.”

the name hit you like a gust of winter wind, sharp and unyielding. cregan’s hand stilled on your stomach, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. you watched him, searching his face for a crack in the mask he wore so well.

“arra?”

you asked, keeping your tone even despite the sudden knot in your chest.

“i thought she’d settled in the mountains.”

“so did i,” he said, rising to his feet.

his voice was clipped, not cold, but distant like he was already halfway out the door.

“i’ll see what she wants. rest, love. i won’t be long.”

he pressed a kiss to your forehead, firm and fleeting, before he left. and as the door shut behind him, you felt it, the first splinter in the foundation you’d built together.

arra norrey was no stranger to winterfell.

she was a ghost from cregan’s past, a woman of the north with wild auburn hair and a sharper tongue. she’d been his companion in youth, a friend, a whisper of something more before you’d swept into his life like a storm from the south. the youngest daughter of a valyrian line, your black hair and fierce spirit had captivated him, binding him to you in a way that felt unbreakable. or so you’d thought.

you didn’t mind her shadow at first. you were secure in your place, in the way cregan looked at you, in the child growing inside you. but when she swept into the great hall that day, her presence was a tempest you hadn’t braced for. she was all sharp edges and familiarity, her voice cutting through the air as she greeted cregan with a smile that lingered too long.

“it’s been years, cregan,”

she said, her tone warm, almost possessive.

“the north hasn’t changed, but you… you’ve grown into it.”

you stood at the edge of the hall, unnoticed at first, watching as he returned her smile, not the one he gave you, but something softer, older.

“you’ve not changed either, arra,”

he replied, and there was a flicker of something in his eyes you couldn’t name.

nostalgia?

affection? it clawed at you, that uncertainty.

she barely glanced your way, her focus locked on him. and as the days bled into weeks, it only grew worse. she found reasons to be near him, of bringing tales of the mountains, offering to scout with him, brushing his arm as she laughed at some shared memory from a time before you. you told yourself it was nothing. you were his wife, carrying his heir. but every touch, every glance she stole, chipped away at the steel you’d forged around your heart.

one afternoon, you watched from a window as they stood in the courtyard, her hand resting on his arm as she spoke animatedly. he didn’t pull away. he laughed, a sound that once belonged to you alone and the sight twisted something deep inside you. your hand pressed against your belly, where the babe kicked harder, as if sensing your turmoil.

“i don’t know what to do, sara,”

you confessed one evening, your voice trembling as you sat with sara snow in the quiet of the godswood, the air was bitter. sara, with her dark eyes and gentle demeanor, had become an unexpected anchor in the storm. she carried no judgment, only understanding.

she tilted her head, studying you.

“you’re his lady, his wife. she’s a memory, nothing more. why let her haunt you?”

you pressed a hand to your belly, feeling the faint kick of the life within.

“because he doesn’t see it, the way she looks at him, the way she tries to pull him back to what they had. and i… i feel like i’m fading. like i’m not enough.”

sara’s hand found yours, her grip firm.

“you’re more than enough. you’re valyrian steel in flesh, stronger than she’ll ever be. but you’ve got to tell him, not me. he’s a man, thick as they come sometimes. he won’t know unless you make him see.”

“i’ve tried,”

you whispered, your voice breaking.

“but every time i look at him, i see her shadow behind him. i see the way he softens when she speaks, and i wonder… did he settle for me? did he choose me because i was here, because i was convenient?”

sara frowned, shaking her head.

“you think cregan stark, lord of winterfell, would marry a woman out of convenience? he chose you because you’re a force, a flame in this frozen hell. arra’s a spark that’s long gone out. don’t let her make you doubt that.”

you wanted to believe her, but the doubt had taken root, spreading like frost over glass. that night, when cregan slipped into your chambers, his hands cold from the yard, you couldn’t meet his eyes. he sensed it, kneeling before you as you sat by the fire, your hands folded over your swollen belly.

“what’s wrong, love?”

his voice was gentle, but it broke something in you.

“arra,”

you said, the name tasting like ash.

“she’s everywhere, cregan. every time i turn, she’s there, pulling you away. and you let her.”

his brows furrowed, confusion etching his face.

“she’s an old friend. she means nothing—”

“don’t,”

you snapped, your voice rising despite the tears burning your eyes.

“don’t tell me it’s nothing when i see the way she looks at you, the way you smile at her. i’m your wife, cregan, carrying your child, and i feel like i’m losing you.”

the silence that followed was suffocating. he reached for you, but you pulled away, the ache in your chest too raw.

“i thought i was your fire,”

you whispered, your voice cracking.

“but maybe i’m just the shadow she’s casting.”

he stood then, his expression hardening not with anger, but with something deeper, something pained.

“you think i’d choose her over you? over our family?”

his voice was low, strained, each word deliberate.

“i’ve been a fool not to see it, how it’s hurt you. but you’re wrong, my love. you’re everything.”

you wanted to believe him, but the wound was too fresh, too deep.

“then why does it feel like i’m fighting for you?”

the words slipped out, fragile and broken.

“why does it feel like i’m begging for a place that should already be mine?”

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he turned and left the room, the door closing with a soft thud that echoed in your bones. you sank into the chair, tears streaming down your face as the fire dwindled to embers. the babe kicked again, harder this time, and you pressed your hands to your stomach, whispering apologies to the life you carried, for the fear, for the doubt, for the cracks in the love you’d thought unbreakable.

the next morning, arra was gone.

you heard it from the servants first, she’d been sent back to the mountains, her horse saddled before dawn. the news came like a cold wind and unexpected, and you stood in the courtyard, watching the empty space where she’d last been. the snow crunched under your boots, your breath clouding in the frigid air.

when cregan found you, he looked weary, his eyes shadowed with something you hadn’t seen before, regret, perhaps, or resolve. he stopped a few paces away, his cloak dusted with snow.

“she’s gone,” he said simply, his voice rough.

“i told her to leave. for you.”

you stared at him, your heart pounding.

“why?”

“because i saw it, how she looked at me, how it tore at you. i’d never dishonor you, never let anyone come between us. arra… she was a piece of my past, a friend i thought i could keep at arm’s length. but i was wrong.”

he stepped closer, his hands reaching for yours, and this time you didn’t pull away.

“i should’ve sent her off the moment she arrived. i was blind, and i’m sorry.”

tears spilled down your cheeks, hot against the cold.

“i thought… i thought you regretted me,”

you admitted, your voice trembling.

“that i wasn’t enough. that she was the one you wanted, deep down.”

he cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears, his touch warm despite the chill.

“regret you? gods, no. you’re the fire in my blood, the steel in my spine. i’d burn the north to ashes before i let you doubt that. arra was a memory, a ghost i didn’t bury well enough. but you… you’re my life, my heart, the mother of my child.”

you broke then, a sob escaping as you fell into his arms. he held you tight, his warmth seeping into you, thawing the ice that had settled in your chest.

“i love you,”

he murmured against your hair, fierce and unwavering.

“only you. always you.”

you clung to him, the weight of your fears lifting, replaced by the steady beat of his heart against yours. the babe kicked between you, a reminder of the life you’d built, the love that held despite the cracks. he pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands framing your face as snowflakes caught in your dark hair.

“i’d fight the world for you,”

he said, his voice low but steady.

“every inch of it. you’re my lady, my wife, my flame. no one else.”

you reached up, your fingers curling into his cloak, pulling him down until his lips met yours. the kiss was desperate at first, all the pent-up fear and longing spilling out, but it softened into something tender, something sure. the cold faded, the shadows retreated, and all that remained was the heat of him, the strength of you, and the promise of what lay ahead.

as the snow fell silent around you, you rested your forehead against his, your breath mingling in the frozen air.

“i believe you,”

you whispered, and it felt like a release, a weight you hadn’t known you carried.

“i love you too.”

he smiled then, the one he saved for you alone, soft, unguarded, and full of the north’s quiet strength.

“good,”

he said, his hand slipping to your belly.

“because this little one needs us both.”

and in that moment, with the wind howling and the world vast and wild around you, you knew no shadow could dim the fire you shared.

[the end]

[rxmye]

" 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄 "

𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 — you're his entire world, his only thought, the very illness that has corrupted his mind and body . . .

gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / mentions of sleep medication / pathetic yandere / suggestive content / a character slightly aimed towards people with a savior complex

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: edited, Lucas first fanfic is out !! . . click here to read it !! <3

He was someone with fleeting attraction—yet a hopeless romantic, who'd spend most of his class time doodling away in his notebook instead of taking actual notes, writing these scenarios that played out in his mind—tired hazy doodles of small characters, blurry lines of writing, scribbled out text, as he struggled to stay awake—

He had never had a proper sleeping schedule, and if he did he'd never stick to it, a night owl who often faced the consequences of his own actions, sleep medication was something he was all too familiar with, the feeling of being restless without sleep, his nerves always on edge, dark circles under his eyes made him feel insecure, and alarmingly out of character.

He felt something touch his back, he froze, nerves all over the place, a pit growing in his stomach as he turned almost instinctively to face whoever touched him, pushing their hand off harshly . . . "Hey Yoichi . . what's up with you man, why so aggressive?!" Lucas asked . . and then he froze, letting out a nervous and rather embarrassed chuckle, "Ah—um . . sorry Lucas . . just feeling a little tired that's all", he replied softly, voice barely coming out.

To be quite honest, when he first saw you, Yoichi thought nothing of it, he sat at the very back and you for some reason, sat in front of him, not that he minds, you're presence covered him from the teachers eyesight, which allowed him to do whatever he wanted, he was even able to drift off to sleep during that period.

However, it wasn't until he found himself, drawing tiny versions of you in his notebook, little doodles, pink ink staining the paper as he hearted your initials together—his name then your last name . . your name then his last name . . . names of future children—that he realized he was crushing on you . . . big time.

His emotions was fleeting, it had always been, he didn't think much of it . . it was just a simple crush, everyone has one of those, and they go away with time.

Yoichi was a punctual student—and a well organized one—he'd rarely forget his books, much less the notebook with his embarrassing doodles of him and you, it would ruin his image to be quite honest . . yet for some reason he had forgotten it in class today, it could've been his ever-growing restlessness due to a lack of sleep, or maybe the caffeine that's been fucking with his head since early in the morning—he sighed—knocking himself out of his own thoughts, as he twisted the doorknob, hopefully the teacher left the class unlocked.

The door was open, to his utter relieve . . . wait . . . "y/n?", he spoke, taken aback—you were soundly asleep on your desk—you looked so at . . peace . . . calm? . . . Nothing could describe the emotions he felt as he approached you, slowly reaching over to his desk and grabbing his notebook, quickly stuffing it in his backpack—he should go . . , that would be the best course of action . . .

Yet he couldn't . . . he knelt down on the floor, leaning his head on the desk, starring at your face, looking into every curve and line, in his eyes every imperfection just made you even more perfect, the pattern of your breath was soothing to his otherwise restless mind, a soothing scent radiated off of you, and for the first time in months, he felt sleepy . . . like he could sleep without a care . . . everything felt so right. . .—nothing felt displaced or disoriented.

That was the day that started it all, it seems, Yoichi had started forming something that was akin to obsession, he couldn't sleep at all without you—a piece of you—something that reminded him of that calming scent that he felt that day, you calmed his overdriven nerves, you halted his troubles for more than a fleeting moment.

Yoichi knew what he was doing was odd, especially when he found himself picking up the wrapper you threw out, and taking inhaling it, his eyes growing half lidded—he felt like a drug addict—drunk off of you . .

Fleeting touches would tick off his ever delusional mind, a small compliment could set him on overdrive and in the back of his head he knew he was growing addicted, a pit in his stomach grew as he felt slightly disgusted with himself, with the obscene and rather degrading things he'd do, just to get something touched by you.

Lucas stared at his friend, who seemed no better than dead, "Are ya' okay?" he asked, looking him up and down, "You look like a train-wreck", he stated half out of concern and half out of clear disdain and possibly curiosity, "Is it normal?", Yoichi spoke up, taking a gulp of air as he continued, "to want someone so badly that it's hard to explain—like—a part of me feels obsessed, like I feel like carving my own heart out and showing them just to prove my love wont be enough—they could claw out my fingernails—and from where I'm standing, I'd still look at them with only love . . . but at the same time I feel disgusted with the feelings I feel—", Yoichi kept blabbering on, until his friend shushed him, taking a sip of his drink as he jokingly replied, "I mean . . if you love them that much, then their clearly the one . . ."

Yoichi blanked out, as Lucas chuckled, he has no idea how much of his teasing words Yoichi would take to heart that day nor of it's lasting consequences . . .

want more, buy my limited time only advent calendar?

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[halbrd]

personal obi wan hc <3 details and a bonus cody under the cut

- cane because everyone in this fandom loves to give that man a disability, and i know that motherfucker needs it. and i get to give him my problems.

- 2003 TCW armour and robes. i think it looks way cooler and i love how dramatic it is.

- open circle fleet and jedi order pauldrons

- vambraces with 212 gold. yes it’s a show of solidarity with the men under his command, yes they are cody’s <3 might draw him with more paint in the future.

bonus cody with blank braces. wonder who gave him those. he’s being very polite.

[lazysoulwriter]

you're safe here. - lando norris.

requested! hope you like it, like i did! - requested are open.

--- It starts with something small.

You’re curled up on Lando’s couch, one leg draped over his lap, your cheek pressed against his shoulder. A movie plays in the background—something warm, nostalgic, easy to follow. You’re not really paying attention, not when his thumb keeps drawing lazy circles into the back of your hand, not when his other arm is holding you like you’re made of something worth protecting.

On screen, a kid walks into a room full of balloons and hugs, a surprise birthday party waiting just for them. Their mom’s crying, the dad is beaming, and the whole thing is so full of love it makes your chest ache a little.

You laugh—soft, but not because it’s funny. More like a reflex.

“Surprise parties are weird,” you say, casual. “My mom used to forget my birthday half the time. One year she just said, ‘You’re getting older, you don’t need a cake.’”

You don’t even realize what you said until you feel Lando freeze beneath you.

It’s so subtle, anyone else would’ve missed it. But not you. You’re always scanning for shifts, changes in energy, things going suddenly cold.

“Wait—what?” he says after a beat, voice soft. Not judging. Just confused. Just Lando.

You shrug like it’s nothing. Because to you, it is.

“It’s fine. Just how it was.”

But he’s still looking at you, eyes soft and stunned. Like it’s physically painful for him to imagine someone not being celebrated, especially someone he loves.

You can feel it—his confusion, the way he’s trying to wrap his brain around the idea that someone could grow up like that. With birthdays forgotten and hugs withheld and love handed out like a transaction.

And you? You’ve already built the walls. You’ve spent years pretending it doesn’t matter. You learned to light your own candles. You learned not to expect softness from anyone.

But Lando—he doesn’t let it slide. Not in the heavy, dramatic way. Just the opposite.

He leans in and presses a kiss to your temple. Not rushed. Not fleeting. Like he wants you to remember the exact pressure of it. Like he’s saying I’m sorry, I’m here, I’ve got you—all without needing words.

“That’s not fine,” he murmurs against your skin. “You deserved a cake. You deserved the whole party.”

You laugh again, watery this time. “You gonna throw me one now?”

“Absolutely,” he says without missing a beat. “With balloons. And a stupid hat. And everyone has to sing.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart pulls in your chest in a way that’s unfamiliar. Soft. Unsafe. Safe.

Because here’s the thing: you’re used to doing everything on your own. You don’t like asking for help. You don’t like feeling like a burden. You were taught, early and often, that vulnerability is a luxury, not a right.

But Lando—he never makes you feel small for it. He doesn’t try to fix you, just... holds space. Gentle. Steady. Patient.

Sometimes you’ll drop a story without thinking—something offhanded about your childhood, a little crack in your armor—and his reaction is always the same. Not pity. Just quiet disbelief, followed by twice as much love.

And the more time you spend with him, the more you start to believe maybe you don’t have to carry it all alone.

Some nights, when the world feels heavy, you’ll wake up to find him already watching you. He’ll rub your back until the tightness in your chest loosens. He’ll hold you like he’s grounding you to the earth. He won’t ask questions you don’t want to answer.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time, you know,” he tells you one night, voice thick with sleep.

You want to believe him. You’re starting to.

Because with him, you’re not just surviving anymore. You’re living. You’re learning how to be—messy, stubborn, independent, complicated—you. And he doesn’t flinch. He just loves you harder.

And one day, when he walks into your apartment holding a stupid balloon and a single slice of cake—just because—it kind of breaks you.

“You said you never got one,” he says with a soft smile. “So... here.”

You kiss him like he’s air. Like he’s the first good thing to ever happen to you.

And maybe he is.

---