#I have been trying to figure out how to incorporate the idea that the reader and Klaus were old friends for ages

[uglypastels]

okok I've had this idea brewing in my filthy mind for a few days so imagine sanji discovering camgirl! Strawhat reader and becomes kinda obsessed?? Maybe one day she wears something of his(maybe a ring or his shirt) live and he goes absolutely feral and has his way with her??😵😵💫

I took out the camgirl aspect because I just wasn't sure how to incorporate it into the universe?? (I'm still new to it, so trying to figure out the dos and don'ts haha.) but I hope it's still good.

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warning: 18+ content. MDNI. simp sanji. masturbation. suggestive language and actions. light biting.

Laundry Day.

'Can someone remind me again whose brilliant idea it was to fight the giant squid?' You looked down at yourself, stiff as a board, as you felt every inch of your body to be sticky with black ink.

When you looked up again, the rest of the crew had all found a sudden interest in the most mundane parts of the ship, not daring to meet your deadly glare.

'Thought so,' you mumbled. 'I'm gonna go change.' Awkwardly, you made your way downstairs to the bathroom to try and wash off the black goo the sea monster had spewed onto you. You scrubbed for what felt like an hour, with the stains just never seeming to seize. The water poured down your body, slowly turning from a black abyss into a drabby grey until it finally recovered to its natural clear state, and the smell of fish was exchanged for your hair conditioner and body scrub.

stupid. fucking. squid. You kicked around your thoughts as you got out of the shower, nearly falling over in the process.

Too tired to cross the ship to your room, you instead walked to the small laundry cabin that was next to the bathroom and picked up the first pair of shorts you found and a button-up shirt to throw on.

You had thought it was one of yours, always being fond of having some larger piece of attire to throw over a short sleeve, but you soon realised your mistake when you entered the kitchen.

Sanji was in the middle of setting some water to boil, glancing up at you from his work with a soft smile. That smile then quickly froze in what you could only describe as a shock.

'I know I look like a mess,' you sighed, reaching over to the cupboard where the crew kept their hardest liquor. The day just called for a shot. Or three.

'Not the words I would use.' Sanji said, the clicking of the gas stove intercepting him, 'Is that- is that my shirt?'

You glanced down, noticing the blue striped pattern on the material and the actual tailoring of the shirt as opposed to the ones you were used to wearing.

You cursed under your breath. 'Sorry. I'll go change.' You began unrolling the sleeves, already seeing how they started to crease.

'No,' Sanji coughed out. 'It's fine. Honestly.'

'You sure?' You looked up at him apprehensively, but he just shrugged and continued on cooking.

You poured yourself a drink and made yourself comfortable opposite Sanji, enjoying the show that was his meal prep.

'Where's everyone else?' you asked as he began chopping up vegetables.

'Uhm, probably sleeping off the squid,' he chuckled, focused on the ingredients. As he kept going, you realised his answers kept getting shorter and shorter with each question. What usually would be full of quips and flirtatious remarks was cut down, blunt, like the edge of a dull knife.

And at first you had brushed it aside as him concentrating on his craft, but the longer he cooked, the more noticeable it was how he avoided your gaze. Even when talking, he didn't dare look up.

'Are you really ok with me wearing this?' You asked eventually when he was done and washing his hands in the sink.

'Of course, darlin',' he wiped his hands on a towel. He was about to turn around, but you saw the moment as your chance and swiftly slithered by his side. He stumbled back slightly in surprise.

'So why have you been ignoring me for the past hour?'

'I haven't,' he slipped by you elegantly and got to packing up the prepared food into storage boxes.

'But you have-- you didn't even look at me until now.'

'Sorry, sweetheart. I was working.' Usually, his saying something like that would make you think things were back to normal, but he seemed nervous, and before you could say anything else, he excused himself to his cabin.

Confused and a bit flustered at the sudden departure, you stood in the kitchen for a moment. You had planned on going upstairs, to get some fresh air, when Luffy stormed into the room.

'Ah!' he exclaimed, 'glad to see you're back to your ink-free self.'

'Yeah, thanks, Luf.' You took another shot quickly and watched as the captain raided all the cupboards. 'Watcha looking for there?'

'The tangerine cookies that Sanji made yesterday. There should still be some here.' He stretched his arm out to pat around the back of the highest drawer.

'You sure you didn't eat them yet?'

'Nooo,' Luffy looked at you sternly. 'Because I put them there specifically so I wouldn't eat them earlier.'

'Right,' you nodded. 'Well, Sanji had been busy around here, prepping lunch for tomorrow; maybe he moved some things around,' you suggested. 'You could go and ask him.'

'Aaah, I could,' Luffy wavered, 'but I was hoping to do this without Sanji's help.'

'Did he ban you from the kitchen again?' After the last incident of Lufft stuffing himself full of snacks right before dinner, the cook had given him strict orders not to eat an hour before meals. Looking at the clock, you could see it was closing in on dinner time.

Luffy scoffed, which only confirmed your assumptions. With a sigh, you got up. 'Fine, I'll ask him. But he might be asleep, you know.'

'Thanks. You're the best.' Luffy said, arm the length of the room as he opened cupboard after cupboard. You just rolled your eyes and made your way to Sanji's cabin.

'Hey, Sanji,' you knocked softly, unsure if he had maybe decided to take a nap. With no response from the other side of the door, you tried again. You thought to just let it go and leave him be, but then you heard the clashing of the pans in the kitchen, followed by a Luffy 'I'm ok!' and knew that you needed an answer for your captain. These were desperate times.

'Hey, Sanji,' you opened the door. The only thing you had really seen was the shape of his body splayed out on the bed, and it was more of an instinct or a gut reaction that told you that you should not look any further. So, quickly apologising, you shut the door again as Sanji cursed out in shock at the door opening.

'Sorry!' You shouted through the door, simultaneously trying to comprehend the blurs of your vision and trying to forget anything you might have seen. He wasn't... no, that wasn't... no.

There was some stumbling coming from his room, followed by a few more curse words. You didn't know why you were still standing beside his door, but he certainly didn't expect you to have stayed there, and so, when he entered the corridor, your bodies practically collided.

'I didn't see anything!' You blurted out before Sanji could say anything. Both your faces were wide in horror. 'I swear- I just,' you made the mistake of taking his appearance in. His shirt was untucked from his trousers, belt unbuckled and hanging at his sides. Oh god. 'I just... I was wondering where the tangerine cookies were. The ones you made yesterday.'

He was still hard. Most of it was hidden by the layers of clothing, but there was no denying it. You did your best to keep your eyes on his face as he listened to you blurt out words like a maniac, but it sure was difficult as all the puzzle pieces came together.

'They should be in the left cabinet, bottom shelf. Behind the baking ingredients. I hid them so Luffy wouldn't eat them before dinner.'

'Good thinking,' you laughed, probably a bit too loud for the situation, but the nerves were getting worse by the second. 'Well, bye then.' And with that, you ran off to the kitchen, leaving Sanji in all his unspeakable glory behind.

In the kitchen, you were met with Luffy picking up the pans he had dropped and Nami looking at him with what could only be described as disappointment. Without acknowledging them, you walked over to the left cabinet, opened the bottom half of it and searched the bottom shelf for the box of leftover cookies, slamming them onto the counter. Luffy immediately lunged forward to them, oblivious to your shocked state, but the navigator was a bit more perceptive.

'What happened to you?' she asked, declining the offer of a cookie from the captain, who already had two in his mouth.

'Nothing,' you shook your head.

'You look like you've seen a ghost.'

'I didn't! I didn't see anything!' Nope, nothing at all. You definitely did not see that. Or how big it was... or how his hand looked wrapped around it... or his face when he- NO.

'Hey, is that Sanji's shirt?' Now, Luffy decided to be observant. You looked down at your shirt as if you had only now noticed what you were wearing.

'Oh, I guess it is.'

'He must be having a field day with that,' Nami snickered, to which you looked at her confused. She, in turn, rolled her eyes 'Like you haven't seen the way he looks at you on a regular day.'

'I- no?' you blinked, trying to grapple with what she was talking about.

Nami just shrugged before grabbing the last cookie from Luffy's hand and walking out of the room. If you thought he would be aware of anything that you had just talked about, you would have asked the captain if he knew what Nami meant by her comments but instead just contemplated on it all by yourself.

Against all your survival instincts, you walked back in the direction of Sanji's door and knocked again. This time loud and clear. There was shuffling coming from the other side, and a second later, the door opened to reveal Sanji. His lips were pulled in a tight line of a smile as he looked down at you.

'Hey, can I come in?' you asked softly.

'What?' Sanji asked before the initial question properly connected in his mind. 'Uhh, I don't think that's a great idea.'

'Sanj, we should talk about what happened earlier.'

'Do we, though?' His voice raised in pitch nervously, but you just glared up at him, unimpressed.

'Sanji, please just let me come inisde.' You pushed out any thought that just burst through your mind that did not have to do with the current situation, but it was hard to see the images of what you saw in his room before were still very much playing over and over in your head.

In the end, Sanji gave in and opened the door for you. As you walked in, he stayed behind you, hand running nervously through his hair, as he spoke: 'Listen, I'm really sorry about... everything that happened today, really.'

'You have nothing to be sorry for.' You turned to face him. 'I'm the one that stole your shirt and stormed into your room unannounced.' It was his room. He had the right to do whatever he pleased in it.

Sanji laughed awkwardly, looking away to the far side of the room, but even then, you caught how his eyes glanced and slightly lingered over your body. The blue-striped shirt still hanging over it.

You, in the meantime, fought the urge to look at his body, combined with the memory of what you had caught him doing.

Maybe it was the few shots you had taken earlier to forget about the giant squid attack that instead did nothing you had hoped for but only made you bolder as you asked: 'were you thinking about me?'

'What?'

'You know, earlier. When I walked in. Were you... thinking of me?'

'Shit, don't make me say it.' He combed his fingers through his hair. You walked over to him, closing the gap between you lightly.

'Why not?'

'Because I don't want to make things weird between us.' His jaw clenched as you came towards him, and you couldn't help but laugh at what he had to say.

'Oh, it's definitely too late for that now. Things are already weird.'

'Super weird, aren't they?' he asked softly, strangely intensely.

And so, when you responded, your agreeing words were only as hushed as he had been, too focused on each other's proximity. The two of you stood there, frozen between actions, taking each other's bodies in at the new lack of distance until Sanji took the final step over the edge, kissing you with his hands on cupping your cheeks.

You stumbled back at the force, steadying yourself when you caught onto the shirt he was wearing. One of his hands moved down to your waist, guiding you to his bed until the back of your knees hit the wood, and you lightly fell back.

Sanji placed himself over you, and as his weight pressed over you, you could feel his hard-on through his trousers. A curse fell from his lips when you reached for it and your fingertips moved over the material.

'You've been drivin' me insane the whole day, walkin' around in that shirt.' He said as he began leaving a trail of kisses down your neck.

'Figured,' you couldn't but be a bit smug about it, which he did not seem to appreciate given the pinch of his teeth you felt on your sensitive skin.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him even closer to you, trying to get some, friction out of the movement as he pressed himself against you.

'Cocky are we?' He smiled into his kisses, and at this point, all you could do was nod in agreement.

Sanji kept himself up over you with one hand as he used the other to unzip your shorts. One-handed and without a clear view, taking them off turned out to be a bit more of a challenge, far more awkward than expected when you tried to shuffle out of them, but his touch on your skin made up for it by tenfold.

You were about to make a start on unbuttoning the shirt you were wearing when Sanji stopped you. 'No, keep it on.' and kissed you before you could make any other snarky remark on his behalf. But when he pulled away again, though slightly dazed by the passion, you still managed to comment.

'If this is the treatment I receive for stealing your clothes, I might just do it more often.'

To this, Sanji groaned through his teeth. 'You're gonna be the death of me, sweetheart, I swear.

[thecapybara526]

Series : The Mazer Runner

Pairing : Newt x reader

Note: I've had this idea in my head for a bit and when I saw a maze runner tiktok with this song, I had to incorporate it someone how. I think it explains the core three so well. please enjoy! Also please listen to “Solider, Poet, King” by Reno Loves you! I’ll tell you when!

Summary: The creators send a box with a greanie every month but this month a box with a guitar and music sheets come in. Y/n somehow knows how to play and read music. A special bonfire will be held after Newt hears Y/n sing and play. At the bonfire Newt gets super jealous when one of the boys decides to dance with you especially since he’s been pinning over you since you arrived. Lots of Minho meddling to get you two together.

Themes: angst, Jealousy, fluff, pinning,

You were running down the last straight away of the maze with Minho. You smiled to see some of your fellow gladers waiting for you to arrive. Particularly one…but you knew he'd be there, I mean he always is.

Your lungs burned and your legs ached, running the maze was tough but there was something about being out there that felt right to you. Especially with one of your closest friends Minho, you knew nothing would happen to you and you wouldn't let anything happen to him.

“Why does It have to be so hot today” Minho moaned as the two arrived at the doors of the maze that were starting to close.

“Minho baby, it’s always hot.” You laughed starting to slow down.

“Yea..well today more than usual.” He winked at you and you shoved him. You and Minho always flirted but it was never serious. After countless hours in the maze together you had both shared your most inner thoughts and more importantly your feelings for a certain second in command.

You had never outright said it but Minho figured it out. The way you got a bit nervous when he was around, how you unconsciously looked around for him when he wasn't around. Not only that but when you weren't running the maze with Minho you were with him.

Newt was there at the maze doors, he always is. He always just brushes it off that as second in command he should make sure the runners come back and conveniently everytime he makes his rounds of the glade is when the runners come back.

Newt knew the real reason he was there though, you. Since the moment you came up in the box and looked at him with those y/e/c eyes, he was a goner. He knew he'd protect you, and be whatever you needed, even if he wanted to be more than friends. He couldn't risk it though, he couldn't risk losing you or making things awkward.

You were his best mate, together you had formed an unbreakable bond. You could tell each other everything, well minus your feelings for each other. You were the person he wanted to see when he was sad, when he needed comfort, and just all the time in general. When you were together you made him feel as if he could stay in the maze forever as long as he had you by his side.

Minho’s comment made Newt’s stomach turn, he watched as you shoved Minho, and he couldn't help but feel a pinch of jealousy. You never flirted with him, then again he wasn’t sure if he did. Although the first time he called you love it was an accident and after he realized it had made you blush he kept saying it.

“How was the maze today love” he said trying to drag your attention away from Minho.

You looked up to see Newt looking at you, you smiled softly, love, you loved when he said that to you.

“Uh, you know the usual. Ran around, gathered some info.” you placed your hands on your hips still catching your breath.

“Fantastic, well I’m going to continue my rou-”

Newt was cut off by the sound of the box coming up. You all looked at each other and started to walk over. A new grennie was coming up.

You had been in the glade for over a year now, at first it was frightening. Waking up, breathing hard having no idea where you were. The sun blinding you and it was so hot your skin was already slick with sweat. The scariest part wasn't that you couldn't remember anything but the amount of boys staring down at you.

You had shoved yourself into one of the corners, when one of the boys had jumped in.

“It’s okay, I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe” the boy’s voice was smooth with an accent, somehow it felt like your heart rate slowed down a little. That was until your looked up at all the boys again.

“Where am I? Why can't I-” you started to freak out again.

He reached out a hand, “just take my hand and I'll explain everything, okay?” he smiled. Slowly and hesitantly you took his hand but from looking into the sincerity of those brown eyes you knew you'd be alright.

Now it was someone else’s turn to feel everything you had once felt, you couldn't say you were jealous. The poor kid was shaking like a leaf, not only that but Gally wasn’t too kind either.

“Alright, let's unload this box and get moving people” Gally yelled out to everyone, collective groans echoed through the air.

“Well come on, love.” Newt reached a hand up to you from inside the box helping you down.

“Thank you” you turned away from him heading towards a box so he couldn't see that his gesture made you blush.

As you helped hand boxes to gladers above, you noticed a smaller box, one you hadn't seen before. You grabbed it and handed it to Minho.

“Hey, keep that one aside for me please” you said

“Why do you get to keep it?” Minho shook the box, “what if I want it” he smirked

“Minho, if Y/n wants the box, she gets it.” Newt shot Minho a look. Minho smirked again but this time in amusement. He loved to play this game, a game called make his second in command want to kill him.

“Careful Newt…You're making it sound like Y/n gets special treatment. I wish you were as sweet to me as you are to her..” he watched carefully as Newt’s face became red. You wanted to kill Minho, he always says the dumbest things, Newt was just being nice.

Before you Newt could open his mouth, you spoke. “Yea? Well maybe if you helped out in the gardens a little Newt would be nicer.” you climbed out of the box.

“Y-Yes, Y/n’s right” Newt was still flustered, he snuck a glance at you. You didn't seem fazed at all, you grabbed your box and walked away.

“What the bloody hell was that” Newt glared at Minho.

“Hey, I'm just trying to help you” Minho threw his hands up innocently. “Put yourself out of this misery and just confess already.”

“There is nothing to confess. Y/n and I are best mates. That is all.” Newt huffed out a breath, “sneaking” a glance at you walking away. Minho rolled his eyes, hopeless. You two were hopeless.

…

Once you found an area in shade, you sat down and opened the box. A guitar was in it, at least from your vague memory that's what you think it was. It had to be. You continued pulling things out and a sheet of music caught your eye. As your eyes skimmed it you realized you could read it. As you flipped the page you found more but with words.

“Soldier, Poet, King” you whispered to yourself, a song? (play first 30 seconds of song)

You propped the music up against the tree and settled the guitar in your lap. You strummed the strings following the sheet, it took you some time but you felt a tune starting to come together.

You took a deep breath and decided to try to put it all together. You began to softly sing the lyrics, you were so focused on making sure it was right you didn’t hear a certain blonde boy sneaking up on you.

Newt was in awe, he was confused when he saw your h/c ponytail facing the tree with something in your lap, he had come to find you hoping to walk to dinner together. When he came to investigate he wasn't expecting to hear the soft strumming and what had to be the sweetest voice he had ever heard, memories or not.

He listened as you sang but the sound of a twig breaking called him out. You turned around startled but you smiled when you saw him.

“Newt, you startled me”

“I’m sorry about that, please don’t stop. It sounded lovely.” he smiled down at you.

You blushed and turned away, you didn't think he'd heard you singing. When you turned up to look at him again you made sure you weren't blushing anymore.

“Ah, thank you. It’s not very good but-”

“No, no. It's good, you're good..at that” Newt wanted to slam his head into the tree. With you looking up at him, he couldn't focus, you were just too pretty.

You smiled and stood up packing up the guitar and music sheets. Newt lifted the box for you as the two of you walked.

“You should play at the bonfire.” he glanced to his side.

Immediately you wanted to say no. You didn't want everyone looking at you, what if they thought it was bad or if you mess up. You only just started to learn.

Newt noticed your hesitance, “you don't have to of course but I would really like to hear the full thing.”

And just like that you knew you were going to have to play at the bonfire. If you Newt wanted to hear it, how could you say no?

“Okay. I will. For you.” you smiled at him, then started to panic realizing the “for you” part was said out loud and not just in your head. Newt’s heart started to beat faster. For him?

“Y- You did help me secure the box from Minho! Yes, the least I could do is play it for you.” you tried to cover up your slip-up. Let's just say it worked because Newt’s heart started to slow down again and maybe it cracked a little.

“Fantastic” he gave you a tight-lipped smile and opened the door for you to enter the cookhouse. Newt watches as you walk in thanking him, he took a deep breath shaking his head and walked in after you.

…

You had been practicing all of last night after dinner and throughout the day today after coming back from the maze. The bonfire was tonight and you were nervous. Nervous about messing up the cords or lyrics but most importantly scared to mess up in front of Newt. You knew even if you did he would probably pretend like it didn't happen because he was sweet like that but still.

“You think if you sing to the walls maybe they will let us out?” you heard Minho’s voice behind you. You groan.

“Minho! You just ruined an almost perfect rehearsal.” you put the guitar down and turned to the dark haired boy.

“How was I supposed to know it was almost perfect.” Mingo sat down next to you.

“You just are, this needs to be perfect.” you huffed running your hands through your hair.

“Perfect for everyone, or just perfect for Newt?” he grinned at you, picking up a sheet of music.

“Perfect for everyone.” you snatched the sheet out of his hand and put it back.

“You know he likes you right? Newt is one of my best friends and I'm not trying to out him but you guys need to stop torturing each other.” Minho was getting fed up with this dance you two were playing. He was tired of seeing his two best friends tear themselves apart over each other when they literally feel the same way.

Especially Newt, Minho notices the way he looks at you. His gaze was always so soft, it kinda made Minho’s heart ache. You could break the rules or murder someone and Newt would still think you were perfect.

“And you need to stop saying that and getting my hopes up. Listen Minho, I've accepted that all we will ever be is friends.”

“But Y/n-”

“What was that?” you slapped a hand on his mouth, “sorry can't hear you” you chuckled

From the corner of his eye, Minho could see Newt watching the two of you. If telling the both of you won’t do anything maybe it was time to be more aggressive he thought. Minho quickly removed the guitar from your lap and jumped on.

“Min-!” you erupted into giggles, “what are you do-” he then started to tickle you

“Sorry? I can't hear you, what was that?” he continued his attack until one hard knee to his stomach knocked over. You both laid on the grass laughing, Minho picked up his head and glanced over at Newt. The expression on that boys face that pricless.

Newt watched when Minho jumped on you, he first took a step forward dropping his tool ready to arrive at your defense but the sound of you laughing stopped him. He took a deep breath and picked up the tool again squeezing his fist around it.

He tried to fight the jealousy eating at his chest but he couldn't. He wished it was him rolling around with you in the grass and then he blushed imagining it. He looked up again to see you leaning over Minho, eyes firey playfully yelling at him. The feeling threatened to overtake him again but he was being silly. It was just Minho, he knew how Newt felt about you, it was fine. Newt shook his head and continued his work.

The glade was buzzing because of the bonfire. It was the best time, everyone got to relax and drink some of Gally’s awful but effective drink. After Minho left you were able to practice more and focused on the parts you struggled with. The sun was dropping and the darker it got the more nervous you became

...

The bonfire was in full effect. Everyone was yelling, wrestling, and overall just having a good time. About half way through the night you finally came out from hiding and walked toward Minho and Newt.

“Finally ready?” Minho laughed and started to raise his glass.

You snatched his full glass out of his hand and before he could protest you chugged it. With a hiss, you handed Minho back his drink. Newt and Minho’s jaws dropped, you weren't opposed to drinking and there were nights Newt had to carry you back to your hammock. But you chugging? That meant you really must be nervous and getting very drunk tonight, which was the plan.

“Y/n-” before Newt could finish his sentence you finished his almost empty drink.

“Okay. Now I'm ready.” you grinned and grabbed your guitar and music sheets. You walked over to Alby and whispered to him.

“Everyone! Tonight Y/n has a special surprise for us!”

Everyone cheered, already drunk but also excited to see what you were up to. Newt clapped and felt a wave of nerves pass through him. He wasn't even performing but he just wanted you to do well.

“This came up in the box the other day…and I realized I knew how to play. So I hope you guys enjoy!” you yelled, the liquor definitely playing a part in your confidence. (start the song)

You started the strum the guitar and you looked up when Minho started to clap on beat like you practiced. Everyone started to clap and your adrenaline soared. You started to sing, at first, it was quiet just the clapping, you looked up, did you sound bad? Your eyes caught Newts.

He had this look in his eyes you couldn't decipher but he nodded at you and gave you a small smile, encouraging you to keep going.

Finally it seemed like the boys broke out of the trance and starting cheering loudly. You started moving around singing to boys in front of you and the longer you sang the more passionate you got. Even making them sing the chorus, “oh lei, oh lai, oh lord” echoed throughout the glade.

Minho laughed clenching his stomach, “oh god, the liquor is hitting her hard.” and he was right Newt looked back at you and were jumping around now hair everywhere.

You had finally made your way toward Minho and Newt. Singing at Minho and dancing around him, when the Poet part came up you stood right in front of Newt looking him straight in the eye. Nest held your gaze completely mesmerized by you. Hair everywhere, a light sheen of sweat on your chest, and the fire dancing across your skin. When you grinned at him Newt felt his heart stop. He felt like every fiber of his body was awake, in that moment he wanted nothing more than to pull you in and kiss you until you were breathless.

You were pulled away by Frypan as he picked you up to put you on his shoulder. You yelled in delight and with another swig of your drink, you played the song again from the top. Cheers of delight filled the air and the clapping to keep the beat continued.

Nest smiled and also took a sip of his drink. You looked so happy, so he was happy. He couldn't take his eyes off you, you looked so beautiful. It made his heart ache, he just wanted to hold you, he wanted you to see him as more. He took a bigger swig of his drink this time.

“She’s great” Minho turned to Newt

“Are we surprised?” Nest chucked and tore his gaze off you.

“How do you feel about your special serenade” Minho’s eyebrows raised, curious to see how Newt would deny this.

“She sang to everyone it wasn't just me..” he fiddled with his drink, focused on the amber liquid.

“Mhmm, but not the Poet part… just you.” this made Newt’s eyes snap to Minho. He was right, it was just him, he shook his head. No no no.

“We're just friends Minho, she doesn't care for me like and I-” from the corner of his eye Newt could see the new greenie taking your hand. Minho smirked this has gotten interesting.

“What is he doing,” Nest spoke flatly drink clenched in his hands.

“Mm, don't know maybe dancing. Either way, you're right, you're just friends. Maybe Y/n and the Greenie are a good match” Newt's eyes flared to Minho. Minho couldn't contain his laugh.

Maybe it was the liquor or maybe it was seeing the greenie with his hands on your hips but something in Newt snapped.

After Fry put you down you placed your guitar down, and you looked to see Minho and Newt talking. He wasn't even looking at you, your drunk thoughts were getting the best of you. Maybe Minho was wrong, Newt only saw you as a friend. The greenie came up to you and you locked arms with him spinning around laughing. It was innocent, until you started to get too dizzy and needed to stop. He placed his hands on your hips.

“Are you okay?” you could feel if thumb stroking your side. Before you could respond, someone pulled his hands off.

Newt didn't know what came over him but by the time he realized what he was doing he had pushed you behind him and was holding one of the greenie’s wrists.

“Let’s try to keep our hands to ourselves greenie.”

The greenie’s eyes widened, he shook his head and scrambled away from his second in command. You were in shock, what had gotten into Newt.

“W-what was that?” you furrowed your brows, he turned to look at you, he looked mad. Did you make Newt upset?

“D-did I upset you? I'm sor-” you stammered

“No love, it's- come on” he grabbed your wrist and started to gently but firmly pull you away from the crowd. Leaving the gladers who were too drunk to realize their lead singer was being swept away.

After he felt like you were far enough Newt dropped your wrist and ran a hand threw his hair. What was he doing? How was he going to explain this, he let his jealousy get the best of him. He couldn't stand the way the greenie looked at you, he had every right to look at you that way. You were gorgeous and Newt had no real claim over you. But you were still his.

After a couple seconds of silence your patience was running thin, the liquor not helping.

“Newt? Hellooo” you sighed waiting for answers

He spun around to face you, you were standing there looking up at him, hair pulled to one side.

“I- uh.. Listen love-” you cut him off

“Newt. I'm so confused and I swear it's not just Gally’s drink. What the hell was that, one minute I’m dancing and the next you're hauling me over here?”

“Y/n I know it's o—” you cut him off again. Rambling.

“No. No this is not okay. You can't just sweep me off without an explanation”

You were upset now, upset at how handsome he was and how badly you wanted to be with him. You just wanted this ache to go away. Not only that but the mix singles were driving you crazy. Sometimes you felt like there could be more and other times it felt like it was set in stone that you’d only ever be friends.

“I can't do this anymore Newt.”

This made Newt’s blood run cold. What did you mean by that? Do this? He started to breath a little harder, did he really just mess up this bad. You two hadn't even begun a romantic relationship and he already screwed up. He grabbed your biceps that were at your sides.

“Y/n I’m sorry I didn't mean to upset you”

“Well guess what I am. I-” tears filled your eyes, you didn't want to cry but everything was feeling like too much.

Newt's heart was breaking, as soon your eyes filled with tears he swore he heard a crack in his heart. You tried to scramble out of his grasp but he held you tight. His hands moved to your face steadying you.

“Y/n I love you.”

This made you go completely still. Anger disappearing and relief flooding you. He loved you.

“I’m sorry it took this long for me to say it and that it had to come out this way but I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment you came up from that box.”

His eyes desperately searched your face looking for any sign. A sign that maybe just maybe you loved him too.

You sagged against him, your head landing on his chest, your face still cradled in his hands. He held you, confused, holding his breath waiting for an answer. Finally, what had felt like years you pulled away and looked up at him. Your hands balled up against his chest.

“Newt, I love you too.”

He felt a tear slip down onto his hand, you were crying but smiling. He looked down at your lips and then back at your eyes. You nodded your head slightly giving him permission.

Softy, he pressed his lips against yours. He pulled away smiling, you grabbed a fist full of his shirt and pulled him in again wrapping the other hand around his neck. His hands left your face and slipped down to your waist pull you closer.

“Love, you have no idea how many times I've dreamed of this,” he whispered against your mouth a small smile creeping on his lips.

You grinned as he pulled you back in for another deep kiss. You made a sound that only made him pull you closer. He couldn’t believe it, the girl he was pinning over was finally in his arms.

You felt like your head was spinning, being in Newt’s arms just felt so right. Hell you didn’t know where he learned to kiss like this but you were breathless.

“Love?” Newt spoke softy like if he spoke too loudly the trance you we’re both in might break.

“Newt” you whispered

“As much as I’m enjoying this, you’re drunk, I’m a bit drunk” he pressed his forehead against yours.

He was right. You were drunk but there wasn’t anything about this that you didn’t want. Your cheeks burned, looking around and seeing that although the two of you were alone, the bonfire wasn’t too far away. You kissed his nose, then both his cheeks.

“You’re too sweet, you know that?” You ran both your hands through his hair your forearms against his shoulders

“Only for you remember?” He winked

“Does this mean I get special treatment?” You raised an eyebrow. He grabbed your forearms and pulled you in close.

“Don’t tell Minho but you’ve always gotten special treatment.”

You laughed and pushed off him, reaching out a hand. He grabbed it and the two of you walked back to the bonfire. Immediately Minho noticed you two especially you two holding hands. He decided to keep it to himself though, pretending to not notice. Tonight was about you two.

When everyone noticed you were back they begged to play the song again. Who were you to deny them? You began to play again, looking to Newt when you sang about the Poet. It was for him. He clapped along never taking his eyes off you. How could he?

Right before the last chorus Minho grabbed the guitar from you.

“Go dance.” He pushed you toward Newt and practically jumped into his arms.

He picked you up by your waist and spun you around. Everyone kept clapping keeping the beat as Newt placed you back down and danced with you. You spun around then dipped you, you couldn’t believe when he kissed you in front of everyone. Cheers erupted.

“Newt you shank!” Galley yelled

“Sorry lads” Newt smirked

When he brought you back up you collapsed against his chest. From exhaustion, liquor and laughing, when you saw Minho looking at the two of you, you grinned at him. He shook us head and shrugged as if saying “I told you so”

…

That night you and Newt walked back to your hammocks holding your hand, creeping around drunken asleep boys.

“Goodnight Y/n” he pressed a kiss to lips gently

“Goodnight Newt.” You laid down and he laid down in his hammock next to yours. You tried to fight sleep but the night caught up to you.

Newt watched as you slept, he couldn’t believe it. The ache in his chest was still there but it was different. Instead of being empty it was full so full that it ached. He knew as he watched you sleep before his eyes shut that he would always be by your side. No matter what.

…

The end :)

I hope you guys enjoyed, it’s lowkey long and I haven’t revised it. If you see any errors please let me know and make sure you comment for more!

[punishereditz]

7 Years

Pairing: Jake Seresin x f!reader

Warnings: None. Just a lot of fluff and nerdy stuff. Childhood best friends to lovers. Do not copy!

AN: I absolutely love incorporating songs with my stories and I have this song on my playlist, and I got this idea. I have been at a terrible writer's block, but luckily, I was able to get this story done just in time for Valentine's.

Summary: All the times Jake asked you to marry him and all the times you turned him down... until one day it was different.

~

7 years old.

Jake runed through the yard and back to the tree house even though his mother specifically told him not to run. He had quickly climbed up, plates in hand. He sat by you, grin wide, you could tell he was up to no good like he usual his. The question was what was he is up to now?

His legs swinged as he happily ate the sandwich his mom made him for lunch, and you ate yours that she made for you. Luckily that day, she let you eat outside.

He giggled and smiled next to you, not being able to contain himself. He turned to you. "Will you marry me?" He finally said what has been on his mind.

You gave him a strange look as he held his arm out. Flower in hand. He patiently waited for an answer from you.

"No! We're to young." You spoke as if it was the most obvious thing.

His arm fell to his side, and before his smile could fall, he quickly snapped back with confidence, "But you will one day."

"No way Jake!" You shook your head and your refusal only made Jake want it more. Even if it would be a challenge, it was nothing he couldn't figure out. Jake knew right there and then that you were going to be his girl one day. He is going to stop at nothing until you are his.

11 years old.

Jake had searched the entire house, and there was no sight of you. After asking your mom, he made his way to the barn in hopes he would find you there. And he did.

He made his way to the top of the hay-bales where you sat up high. Head down in your notebook. He peaked his head over your shoulder. Trying to see what it is your drawing now.

"Whatcha drawing?" He asked.

"A cowboy Jedi." You answered without looking up at him. To focused on the shading, you were doing.

"A cowboy Jedi?" He repeated your words.

You turned the notebook so he could see it better. Using the pencil to point out each detail to him, explaining it. "See?"

He looked down at the western style Jedi that you have been working on for no telling how long. He only smiled widely at you. He didn't understand your obsession with all those Star Wars movies, but he knew it made you happy and he loves seeing you get all excited about something.

Looking away from the drawing, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a ring-pop, he held it out to you. "Will you marry me now?"

You laughed at him. Looking at him, then the candy. "Um... no. Nice try though." You smiled at him as you turned him down.

He let his head fall back, sighing. "I really thought the ring-pop would work. How could you say no to a ring-pop?" He said dead seriously, and you died of laughter.

"Will it make you feel better if I take it?" You somehow managed to speak through giggles. He said nothing as he handed it to you. His smile growing as he watched you go back to your own little world you have created in your notebook. You will be mine one day, He thought to himself.

18 years old.

Jake knocked on your bedroom door. Shortly after, you peaked your head out, then you fully opened the door for him to come in. Allowing him to see the mess you are. Your hair is tied up in a knot on top of your head. Mascara running down your cheeks and you wear an oversized shirt that swallows you whole.

You crawled back into bed, holding a pillow tight to your chest. Jake sat at the edge of the bed. Sitting two bags in front of you. He hated seeing you like this. It's rare for you to be this upset. Even when your sad, you usually still had a smile on your face, but that night you only frowned.

He pulls all the candy out of the bag. Trying to focus on cheering you up and not his anger. If you didn't ask him to come over when you called, he would have gone straight to the guy's house that did this to you. The guy you have been going out with standing you up for another girl.

"I got your favorites." He finally spoke. Handing you a bag of milky-ways. He reached into the second bag, pulling out a cd. He smiled as he handed it to you.

You gasped, eyes growing wide as you looked down at the Limp Bizkit's greatest hits cd. "Where did you find this? It's been sold out at every place I've checked."

"Well, a magician never tells his secrets." You roll your eyes. Tossing the pillow at him. He laughs.

"I'm sorry." He suddenly speaks. "You didn't deserve that." His voice is comforting. Soft. It catches you off guard. Tears threatening to fall. You stand up. Walking over to his side. As if he read your mind, he wraps you up in his arms. Holding you tightly. He gives you the comfort you need.

"You know... you wouldn't have to deal with assholes like him if you were married to me." You slap his chest.

"But then I would be married to an asshole- that I would never get to see."

"That's true..." He trails off.

"And before you ask, no." You speak. Knowing he will ask. And you know your answer. You're not dare going to say yes because you know once he joins the Navy, you will never get to see him.

"Do you really have to leave tomorrow?" Your voice cracks. Your terrified for him. But you won't let him know just how scared you are.

"I do, sweetheart." He fights off the knot that grows in his throat as he looks into your pain filled eyes.

"Well... may the force be with you." He chuckles.

"And may the force be with you." He puts up a smile for you. He wants to pull out the little round box with the ring he bought, get on one knee and beg you to marry him, but before he could even ask, you said no. And that's fine. He plans to try again.

35 years old. Presents day.

Jake's not paying one bit of attention to the movie. He looks down at his girlfriend in awe. You're laying against his chest, his arms wrapped around you. He watches carefully as your eyes light up and your smile grows as you watch A New Hope.

He's never cared for the movies but yet he knows everything about them because of you. He is willing to suffer for two hours just because he knows you love them so much. Even though you have seen the movies thousands of times, you still squeal and squirm in excitement when a part you love happens, and that's what he loves to see.

He loves his metalhead, Star Wars, comic book loving, nerd of a girlfriend. You're still the exact same person you were when you were 7. Even though you two have been dating for three years now, he is still in shock that he got you. That you are his and he is yours. He jokingly mentioned dating one night, and you said yes. Completely confusing the hell out of him. But he quickly pulled it together and asked you out. You've been dating ever since. All his dreams have come true. And yours to. Jake's a fighter pilot for the US Navy, a job he loves, and is dating the woman he has been in love with for his entire life. Things couldn't be better.

While Jake was off in the Navy, you were working your ass off in college, getting a degree in art. Now you're a comic book artist, dating your childhood best friend. Everything is perfect. But Jake knows a way it could be even more perfect. He reaches into the pocket of his sweatpants. Pulling out the death star ring box he has had since he was eighteen.

He sits it on your leg. Not saying a word. You pick it up and he tenses under you. You open it. Looking at the two sliver bands. You pick up the smaller one, noticing the words 'I know' printed on the inside. You grab the other ring, and it says, 'I love you'. You immediately realize that he printed what Leia said to Han in the rings. Your heart sinks, your throat tightening and tears coming to your eyes. The rings are Stars Wars, and the box is as well. Even though he doesn't like it, he did it for you.

Tears fall from your eyes, and he looks at you confused. You hand him your ring, looking into those emerald eyes. "Yes." You say softly.

He didn't think it was even possible for his body to tense even more, but it does. He moves his head back to look at you better. His eyebrows furrowing.

You chuckle, "Don't make me change my mind." You tease. He clears his throat. Breathing deeply. His body starts to relax as he takes your hand in his. Sliding the ring onto your finger. Before you can say anything, he smashes his lips onto yours. His hold on you tightening. Holding you impossibly close to him.

You finally pull away from him to catch your breath. Looking into his eyes, tears threatening to fall. "Mrs. Seresin... It's got a ring to it." His words make your smile grow. He holds and loves you the rest of the night. Never letting go of you.

[fic-over-cannon]

The Ghost of You

jason todd x f!reader

summary: you’re in love with jason todd but he doesn’t know you can see ghosts. he finds out.

tags: fluff, off screen sex, angst, supernatural elements

rated mature | wc: 4.2k

a/n: finally got around to writing up the fic idea I sent in this ask. there will be a happy ending (eventually) so please bear with me

It’s cold in the apartment. The curtains are blowing in the empty breeze, window open from when it was wrenched wide. I should close that, you think numbly to yourself, but you’re not really sure that your legs will hold you long enough to cross the room. There’s pins and needles racing through your calves, spreading up to your thighs but you don’t have it in yourself to care. Jason’s gone, maybe never coming back.

On the day you met Jason, his grin was bright like the sun. You’d met at the local library when you dropped your stack of books heading to the return desk. Scrabbling to pick up your books and get out of the way, you’d bumped hands with someone. Looked up to meet his eyes and seen the sun. Jason had helped you gather up the fallen books, accidentally knocking his knuckles into yours the whole time. He’d picked up The Scarlet Pimpernel from the scattered pile and started an enthusiastic conversation about it. By the time you’d left the library, you’d gotten his number in your phone and a new book under your arm.

You’d been so distracted by your conversation that you’d forgotten to stop by and say hello to Ms. Einarsdottir in the romance novel section. Given that she’s been dead for 38 years, she probably won’t mind you missing your weekly greeting, but it’s the principle of the thing. You end up going back to the library the next day to make your apologies but the old ghost is so excited to hear about your meet cute that the two of you end up discussing it for almost an hour. The lovely woman even helps you write your first text to Jason, hovering over your shoulder and gently trying to dictate to you.

You had first seen Ms. Einarsdottir when you were six years old and looking for your mother after losing her in all the tall bookshelves. Despite it being a summer’s day this particular section of the library had been cool, a lure for any overheated child. Rounding a shelf, an older woman with her thick white hair in a braid and half-moon spectacles perched on her nose had been reading a book with a bright cover.

Tilting your head to make out the title better, you had asked, “Whatcha readin’?”

The poor woman had startled, badly, then scolded you for being in a section for grown ups. She’d relaxed when you’d asked if she’d seen your mother, placed her book down on the little reading table and engaged you in a conversation all about yourself. Your mother had found you there nearly 20 minutes later, sitting cross legged in front of an empty chair and discussing your new favourite hair bows in an excited whisper. Your mother had squeezed your hand tightly as she walked you out of the library, so engrossed in scolding you that she didn’t notice you wave over your shoulder to the incorporeal woman.

That had been your first meeting with Ms. Einarsdottir, though certainly not the last. She’d become a grandmother figure to you over the years, and nearly every week you were in Gotham you had made a point of going in to see her. She had been your first ghost.

You can see ghosts. You’ve been able to ever since Ms. Einarsdottir, and for you they’re as real as any living person. There’s no great trauma or origin story for this ability. One day you had just woken up, walked into the Gotham Public Library, and started seeing ghosts. You don’t tell anyone, really. There’s enough flavours of weird in Gotham that people would probably believe you, but it would feel strange to go around announcing this ability. As a child you were scared you’d be bullied for it, still were for seemingly talking to yourself until you’d gotten better at disguising whispers. As an adult, you’re not sure how much good it would do to say anything. You can’t summon the dead to help those grieving a loss, and most of the time the ghosts you meet simply need to be reminded they’re dead in order to move in. Most people wouldn’t want others digging into their business while they’re alive, why would they feel differently when they’re dead?

So for the most part you live an ordinary life. You wake up and go to work at the hospital. You go out to dinners with friends and on disappointing dates. Maybe sometimes in between you remind an old man that no one else can see that he’s no longer living, or give directions to a little boy that everyone else just walks right through. Occasionally the Gotham Police might get an anonymous tip on a years old murder. It’s your normal.

Your new normal with Jason is so, so good. You fit together in places you didn’t even realize were missing. The first date quickly turns into five, laughter bright and constant. Jason volunteers on the weekends, then comes to pick you up from your shifts with your favourite sandwich from the deli near Crime Alley. He brings flowers to every date and his hands tremble the first time he unzips your little black dress. He’s downright adorable when you kiss him on the cheek after offering to drop you off for brunch with your friends. Your friends giggle over him as he pulls away from the curb, demanding details. It’s easy loving him and being loved by him.

You move into his apartment, too quickly according to his little brothers. Dinners out with friends turn into entertaining at home, and taking it in turns bringing dishes that fill the apartment with mouthwatering smells. Nights out at the movies ending with heated discussions about how “the physics of explosives don’t work like that” curled up on the couch. Jokes from Dick about domesticating Jason, as the man himself childishly sticks his tongue out behind his brother’s back. Agreeing to be a plus one at a gala only if there will be french fries after. Hiding smiles behind glasses of champagne as you watch him try to navigate the crush of flirtatious socialites. You love him so much, and if the completely unsubtle questions about your taste in jewellery are anything to go by, you’ll get to love him forever.

Jason doesn’t so much tell you he’s the Red Hood as dump the evidence in your lap by accident. You’re home early (or late as it is), having been bumped to an earlier return flight from a girl’s trip after your best friend got dumped over text. You weren’t supposed to be back for another 16 hours, a fact that Jason clearly was counting on. Juggling your purse and your suitcase, you’re not paying attention as you walk through the door, trying to put your keys away. There’s voices in the living room that go dead silent as you turn the corner. Looking up to see who’s visiting, you freeze.

Dick’s sitting on your couch, a bag of frozen peas held against the bruise blooming on his cheekbone. He’s wearing Nightwing’s suit and the blue domino is on the coffee table, pushed out to make room for all of the people currently invading your living room. There’s Stephanie right next to him, frozen mid-bite, pizza almost falling out of her black-and purple gloves. Tim’s on the floor, leaning against Steph’s legs, looking more exhausted than usual and horrified. Lastly, there’s Jason. Sitting in the far corner of the couch, feet in Dick’s lap, with the Red Hood’s damaged helmet cradled in his lap. You stare at each other, and you can feel your jaw physically drop. The cheese on Steph’s pizza slips right off, landing in her lap with a wet sound breaking the moment.

“I can walk right back out and come in again?” You offer up weakly.

It breaks the hold of silence on the room, suddenly everyone talking at once. Except for Jason. He stares at you and you can’t look away, the clamour of voices fading away under the strength of your gaze. He swallows, hard.

“Stay, please? I can explain.” And he does.

It takes hours, and you steal slices of cold pizza for yourself. Tim and Steph are fast asleep on each other by the end and Dick’s had to switch out the melted peas for an ice pack you’ve fished out the back of the freezer. Jason’s scared, you can tell. Keeps starting and stopping, lets Dick take over the threads of the story, fidgets with the hem of his jacket and keeps turning the helmet over in his hands.

“—so that’s everything. Uh, I’m the Red Hood.”

“Okay.”

“That’s it? Just ‘okay’?” He repeats in disbelief.

“Yup. I’m probably going to have a thousand questions for you once I’m not exhausted from traveling all day, but okay. You’re the Red Hood. Which, actually explains a lot of things, if I’m being honest. But,” and you clap your hands together, “that’s going to wait because I’m pretty sure we’re all going to pass out any minute. Dick, you’re welcome to the couch if you can help Jason move those two,” and you point at the sleepers, “over to the guest bedroom.”

Guests taken care of, you push up off the floor, grab your bags, and head to the bedroom. You drop your bags just inside the door, a task for future you to deal with. Stumbling over tired feet, you manage to wash your face and change into pyjamas before falling into bed. Jason comes in, stands in the doorway hand on the knob, like he can’t bring himself to get any closer. You flop your arm out and pat his empty side of the bed.

“S’cold. You coming to bed soon?”

It takes another breath before he starts to move, a silhouette in the light from the hall. He shuffles around, the sounds comforting in their familiarity. The mattress dips under his weight, but he doesn’t curve to the shape of you like he usually does, stiff as a board instead. Huffing out a breath, you wrap an arm around his torso and pull at him until he’s arranged around you the way you like.

“I love you, y’know. You running around in a onesie getting shot at doesn’t change that.” You mumble into the side of his neck.

He says something in reply, but you’re already drifting off to sleep. As far as you’re concerned, anything else can wait. And it does. The next morning you ask as many questions as you can think of as Jason makes a late breakfast for the both of you. You unpack your bags, and he’s still answering questions as you throw in your travel laundry. You can’t hold keeping a secret against him, not when there’s still your own small part of you that you haven’t shared yet.

His revelation does answer the questions you’d been holding onto about late night disappearances, mysterious bruises, and secretive looks over your head with his family. It puts some of the ghosts you’ve seen hanging around into context, tragedies crystallizing in your mind. It brings you closer, even if he’s not willing to share some of the more horrific details of his cases with you. He asks you, once, how you feel about dating the Red Hood. You laugh and call him silly. You’re not dating the Red Hood, you’re in love with Jason Todd. His slow look of quiet wonder is possibly the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, you tell Ms. Einarsdottir (you elect not to tell her about how he’d laid you out in your bed after and eaten you out for hours after, your thighs trembling around his ears).

Together, you piece together a new normal. Jason texts to let you know he’s going on patrol and if he’ll be back before morning. You insist that he lets you know about all of his injuries, even if it’s just a scratch. He stops hiding his work from you, brings home files and folders (without pictures) to spread out on the coffee table and pull out his hair over. He’ll ask you for your input sometimes, a medical perspective on how Scarecrow’s newest fear toxin works biologically or if there’s a pattern between post-mortem reports. It’s not the life you envisioned for yourself, but you love it nonetheless because of who you are building it with.

The thought crosses your mind, occasionally, that you could help more. That instead of calling in anonymous tips on pay phones to the GPD, you could just talk to Jason. But no ghost has told you anything for weeks, or at least nothing related to their deaths and so the urgency to tell him passes. You grow complacent in this new life.

A few months later, and you’re running out of the hospital on your break to try and buy a cup of coffee from the stand in the courtyard. It’s the only place marginally on hospital grounds with half-way decent beans and you need that extra hit of caffeine to get through the last three hours of your shift. In your rush, you almost run through a young boy, managing to stop yourself just in time. He doesn’t seem to notice you at all, staring off at the small slit of the basement window.

“Hello?” You ask, tentative.

He turns, slowly, like he can’t quite be sure that someone’s talking to him. He’s painfully young, scrawny in a way that implies older than he looks but chronically underfed. It’s his eyes that get to you, large enough to swallow up his whole face and blearily lost.

“D’you know the way home, miss?” It’s a whisper on the breeze, barely a sound at all. Something catches his attention then, steals his focus away to an unseen threat that causes his incorporeal body to lock up in fear. He opens his mouth to speak, but no sound comes out.

“Honey, I know you’re probably really scared and confused, but I can see you, okay? Now you might not know this yet, but you’re a ghost now.” There’s horror in the little boy’s eyes, and it’s growing fast. It’s not directed at you, but somewhere behind you. You turn, trying to see over your shoulder, but there’s nothing there but sunshine.

“Listen to me, you’ve died and what is happening right now is you’re caught in a loop of your own death. You just need to realize you’re dead to snap out of it.” It happens sometimes, ghosts caught in the rip curl of their deaths, repeating echoes of it in their disbelief at dying. You reach out, desperately wishing you could hug this child because terror is swallowing him whole. He turns, desperate, and starts running, mouth moving in unheard screams. He runs into an invisible obstacle, scrambling on his hands and knees, and then winks out of existence.

The sunny day is suddenly cold. You look around, but everyone else in the courtyard is unbothered by the sights they did not see. On autopilot, you make it through the line, adding your change to the tip jar and burning the palms of your hands on the hot paper cup. The coffee’s tasteless, only notable for the way it burns down your throat but it gets you through the last of your shift. You can’t erase the image of the boy’s face, young and deathly afraid. It haunts you; you couldn’t forget his face if you’d tried and you’re not sure you should.

Over the next few weeks, a case takes hold of Jason. It possesses him and drives him out of your bed to pour over files he won’t let you see in the dead of night. He won’t speak of it, red-rimmed eyes and stony faced. He can’t sleep over it, mumbles something about not being able to get the images to leave him alone. You push the issue only once, over a shared lunch you had to badger him to take a break for. It goes badly, Jason freezing you out. He apologizes later, for ruining the lunch you’d gone to the effort to make and for hurting you. The two of you have agreed to never go to bed angry with each other, and you never do. It hurts to see him like this. You keep showing support in whatever small gestures he’ll accept, hoping that eventually he’ll open up.

He does. Shoves the files away from him on the coffee table and leans into you where you’re curled up on the couch reading. You wrap your arms around him, fingers curling into his hair as he breaks down.

“I know you know there’s a case. Couple’a weeks ago a kid’s body turned up in the harbour, died on the way to the hospital. He wasn’t the first to be found, but this kid, he would’ve died in so much pain. And it’s tearing me to fucking pieces because every single lead has turned up short.” He has to pause before he can go on, breath thick with emotions. “I care about getting justice for every last one of those kids, but this one, this kid was personal.” You’re pretty sure that there’s hot tears burning a patch on your shoulder, but you say nothing, just keep stroking his hair.

“His name— his name was Matty. You know that community centre I volunteer at on weekends? That’s where I met him. God, he was such a bright kid. Had his whole future planned out, was gonna get out of Crime Alley and become a pianist. Just, he was so young and so full of hope and now none of those dreams are gonna come true.”

It’s evident in the way his voice cracks and his body shakes that he’s taken it so personally that someone so young and under his protection has been snuffed out. Something about this dead boy reminds Jason a little too much of himself. Maybe because they died at the same age, or he was once that scrawny and featherlight too. The police have no leads, chalking it up to just another Crime Alley street kid meeting an inevitable end. He’s got none either, all the evidence drying up and trails gone cold.

Jason tells you more about Matty, how he hated playing sports but was really good at soccer. How he’d been introduced to music in school and found what felt like his purpose in life. How Matty’s parents had worked and saved up to afford lessons for him, sending him down to the community centre to practice on the available piano. The first time Jason had met him, he’d been trying out to play in the orchestra for the musical the community centre was trying to put together and Jason had been helping to run it.

Jason pulls out his phone, swipes with clumsy fingers to find a video from one of Matty’s impromptu concerts at the community centre. The music is a little tinny front the beat up speakers of Jason’s phone, but it’s beautiful. The video’s shot with a shaky hand, and it takes a few seconds for you to really register Matty’s face. When you finally do, your heart plummets and your fingers involuntarily tighten around Jason.

“I know him. I saw him, just the other day.” It comes out before you can stop it, tongue and lips moving before you can stop yourself. The worst part is, it’s true. The Matty in the video is smiling, hamming it up for his audience, but those are the same wide eyes you saw swimming with terror at the hospital. The same bird-like bones and long fingers that had scrabbled at the ground before disappearing. You know this boy’s ghost.

Jason’s looking at you like you’re speaking in a language he’s never even heard of. “If this is a joke, it isn’t funny.”

“Wait, wait. It’s not a joke. Jason, I wouldn’t— I’d never joke about this.” You sit up and draw back, need to see his face, need to let him know exactly how truthful you’re being. “I saw him, the other day, at the hospital.” Jason tries to interrupt you, but you don’t let him speak. “I saw him because he’s a ghost and I can see ghosts and speak to them and I recognized Matty in that video because I saw him the other day and he looked so scared Jay.” You reach out to Jason, not really sure of what you’re looking for, but he pulls back.

“Okay, so maybe this isn’t a joke but I think you need to go get your head checked out if you’re seeing things that aren’t there.” His voice is uncharacteristically thin, like he’s trying to convince himself that this is just a psychological problem and not reality. You’re frustrated and desperate now, needing him to believe in you more than ever because this might actually be the thing to break you if he can’t believe.

“Jay I’m not crazy, or impaired, or suffering any head trauma. Okay? This is real. I’ve been seeing them since I was a kid and I’m telling you I saw Matty the other day. The first time we met, I was heading to the library because there’s a ghost haunting the romance section that I like to visit once in a while. I’ve been calling in tips to the GPD about abandoned bodies for years for the ghosts that can’t do it themselves. With all of the things that go on in Gotham, do you really think that something like this is impossible?”

“Okay, so you can see ghosts. What, do we need to get a Ouija board in here and Matty’ll just tell us what happened?” The words say that he believes you, but his tone screams uncertainty. It’s a start though, even if it’s a misguided one.

“No— ugh, it doesn’t work like that. Ghosts, they get tied to places, people. I can’t call them, I have to go to them.”

“What do you mean, tied to people?” He asks, eyes narrowed and voice tight.

“Like they get attached to a person, maybe someone they have unfinished business with, or maybe that they really cared for. You know, when you told me you were the Red Hood, and I told you that made a lot of things make sense? This was one of them.” And that, that was the absolute worst way you could have tried to explain it.

He jerks back and there is such a look of horror and fear in his eyes. Not of you, never of you and your abilities, but for what and who he fears you might see clinging to him. The choking sensation of grave dirt. The faces of the people he’s killed to make Gotham safer. The enemies he’s made and buried, and the people he was too late to save. Literally the blood on his hands in a twisted parody of Lady Macbeth. He is terrified that you can see the monster he has always feared himself to be. That all of his sins are arrayed around him, inescapable and unforgivable.

“I don’t— I can’t. What— what do you see?” He whispers, almost inaudible. You open your mouth to answer, but the fear of what you might say is too consuming.

Jason is up and running, prying open the window on the fire escape and escaping out into the winter’s night. You can’t do much more than reach after him, sliding off the couch and landing hard on to legs that don’t work.

You don’t get the chance to tell him that all you see is a 15-year old with a gap toothed, blinding grin wearing the Robin colours with pride. You don’t get to tell him that that 15-year old boy always tells you when Jason comes back hiding an injury or asks you to make sure he’s eating more than cigarettes. You don’t get to tell him that even from beyond the grave, Jason Todd never stopped saving people.

“Go, go after him. He needs you more than I do right now.” You whisper.

The ghost of Jason Todd gives you one more desperate look, before running out into the cold after his older self. Now, now you’re truly alone. That’s the thought that shatters you, rips sobs from where you curl in to your gut. Tears burn then grow cold on your face. You lose track of time, sitting there in a heap on the floor.

The wailing of a distant siren finally jolts you from your stupor, enough to start trying to stand. Using the couch, you pull yourself up, stumbling and tripping from the numb tingling in your legs. It’s cold out tonight, the first few flakes of snow starting to drift down. You wrestle with the window, curtains whipping into your face and arms. This window has always been difficult usually it’s Jason’s job but you manage to force it down. Leaving the glass to clean up tomorrow, you stagger off to the bedroom, the hole where your heart was aching. The window stays unlocked though, that night and every other night after. Just in case.

[rheas-chaos-motivation]

How to fight writer's block (45 ways)

If you are indecisive like me, use a 1-45 number generator and do that one

Listen to music that's the vibe of the scene you need to write.

Set small goals, like one sentence a day. Majority of the time that will make you want to write more

Get an accountability partner

Use writing sprints, write for 5 or 10 minutes without stopping. Then take a break and repeat.

STOP BEING SCARED TO WRITE BADLY

write something random, maybe just a paragraph to get in the flow

write while doing something else, like eating lunch or watching TV if you can focus

read a book you wouldn't normally read

do some physical activity

do writing games/writing prompts

imagine people making fanfiction about your work

watch a movie/show to inspire you

write the scene you've been wanting to write

do something else creative (doodle, paint, cook, etc)

edit a scene

rewrite a scene in a different setting

take a shower/bath or just wash your face

pick up a random book/remember a book you've read and "pick a fight" with the author. What did they do that you didn't like and why don't you?

listen to your favorite song (with lyrics) but imagine it in a different context. imagine it a scene from a show/a show.

make a list of things you want to include in your work, eventually you will come across an idea you will want to write.

use pen and paper

create a check list of things you have to do (make them small like open computer, open google docs, write one paragraph, etc.)

identify your strengths

identify your weaknesses

write from a different pov

remember why you started writing this project

remember why you started writing in general

dress up and pretend you are in a movie about a writer

reread your writing and find your favorite part

create a writing ritual, do two thing to get you in the mood of writing

take a break

write for one imaginary reader, what does that one reader want to see?

write some bad poetry (helps you "feel" your emotions)

use this game, you have to write an amount of words that you choose before the opponent knocks you out: Fighter's Block! (cerey.github.io)

write with a friend

write badly on purpose. And when i mean bad or cringe i mean commit. Write a dicord mod x discord kitten Wattpad fic (maybe dont post it though 😭). Just make yourself laugh

If you are stuck because you dont know what to do come up with something stupid that can be changed later (for this one scene the hero a has fourth leg that allows them to dig through the wall)

Figure out why you can't write and address that first.

imagine someone reading your story for the first time and it inspires them to do something they wouldn't have done otherwise (confess to their crush, start writing too, come out, etc)

GIVE YOURSELF DEADLINES AND STICK TO THEM

OR HAVE SOMEONE GIVE YOU DEADLINES

write about having writers block

write something that isn't yours (dont steal peoples work and try to publish it/pass it off as yours). Like a scene from a show or incorporate song lyrics into your scene.

create Pinterest boards based off your characters/plot/scenes

STOP BELEIVING IN WRITERS BLOCK AND WORK THOUGH IT. WRITE IT BADLY. WRITE IT BADLY. WRITE IT BADLY. WRITE WHEN YOU DONT FEEL LIKE IT. WRITE WHEN YOU THINK YOUR TERRIBLE. WRITE WHEN YOU ARE UPSET. WRITE IT BADLY.

[perpetual-fandom-brainrot]

DRABBLES

I'm so sorry I died. I am planning to continue this, I just have to figure out where it's going. In the meantime HAVE SOME DRABBLES! (only the first one is a hybrid drabble) (I was trying not to focus on anyone and it ended up being mainly Ghost related)

I've been reading more hybrid reader fics lately, and I cannot stop thinking about the idea of a bunny hybrid reader who isn't just all timid/shy around everyone like I see in a lot of fics. All of the other bunnies treaded lightly when they got on base to avoid trouble, but not you. When you arrive on base, Ghost ofc tries to intimidate you. You don't stumble or falter, though. You hold his gaze, glaring back at him until Price has to order you both to stop. Within the first week, you're in Price's office for practicing parkour in the halls on your way to the gym. In your defense, no one else was in those hallways, and you didn't notice the cameras until then. The first time you spar with the other bunnies, you lose. They all look at you intently, waiting for some kind of response; however, you getting up with a proud smile doesn't seem to be what they were waiting for. The first time tf 141 realizes you aren't to be fucked with is the only time anyone ever steals your food. Soap jokingly picks some food off of your plate, only to be tackled to the floor and pinned down by you. No one even looks at your plate for the rest of that meal break. Tf 141 really starts to appreciate you after the first mission they bring you on. Your muscular advantage is concentrated in your legs, enabling you to use trees, buildings, and other tall structures to your advantage. You can completely disappear as long as you stay silent, and disappear you do. You and 141 are able to ambush an ambush team and take out multiple enemies before they know you're there. After that, they start taking you with them whenever you're not needed elsewhere and incorporating you into their group more.

I also can't stop thinking about a situation where newbie reader is used to glaring matches and just doesn't tolerate Ghost's bullshit. Like you get there on base and expect to settle in, meet the team, etcetera. You were hand-picked to help out with some critical missions coming up and you're... not excited, but definitely proud to be expanding your experience. You're definitely excited to make more friends to protect. When you land, Price and the team are all waiting for you. They all run through introductions with a name, rank, and some opt to say how long they've been serving. You run through the same information about yourself, making small talk with Gaz, Soap, and Roach when Price walks off. Ghost's silent stare doesn't escape you amidst it all. He barely seems to want to be near you. So, mid-conversation with the boys, you turn to face his direction and stare back at him. You can't tell what expression he has under his mask, but you're sure it's not a welcoming one, so you do your best to mirror it. You even tilt your head in Soap's direction to ask if "the statue" does this a lot. Tension rises instantly. None of you are holding weapons, yet you feel as though all of you have sniper lasers trained on your heads. Soap, probably making the smarter decision, opts not to involve himself. "Yeah, I do this a lot. What's it matter to you?" Ghost finally breaks the quiet. "Well, I just figure a statue is usually made of stone," you start, before dropping your voice to a deadpan, "and can't stare at you like you should be dead just because they did." "I don't have time for this. Soap, Roach, with me in the sparring room. Gaz, show the newbie around. Bring her to us after." You don't stop calling Ghost 'Statue' after that, mostly because you can tell it makes his blood boil as much as he tries hiding it. Price constantly has to tell the two of you to stop bickering before he reports to his own higher-ups about it. Everyone notices how much harsher Ghost Statue is on you when he's left in charge by Price, and how much harsher he tries to be when he's not. Needless to say, the two of you do not get along. It's when you start rubbing off on Soap that Ghost Statue really, really starts hating you. It's an accidental slip of the tongue, the first time Soap calls him Statue directly to his face. The glare isn't given to him though, it's given to you, and ten times worse than you've ever gotten it. Needless to say, you get a lecture in Price's office the next morning, and you stop calling Ghost by the wrong name if he can hear you. You just have to find other ways to irritate him.

This last one is kind of inspired by Riley. Simon can't hate dogs because he would hate Riley if he did. However, I can imagine Simon disliking cats. Generally, he avoids being around them if he can, but he's typically okay being in the same room. Until he meets the cat you and Soap decided to adopt (Soap, of course, knowing Simon doesn't like cats, and you being oblivious to this fact). This cat is still small enough that it sees a big tall thing and thinks climb. Soap constantly has this cat on his shoulder or, for some reason, laying on top of his mohawk. So the first time Simon walks in, this cat jumps down from where he is on Soap to make an approach. First comes the leg rubs, then comes the testing of the pants. When Simon tries to pick this cat off of his pants, the cat instead clings to his sleeve, and climbs up to his shoulder anyway. That day is the most annoyed you've ever seen Simon "Ghost" Riley. But then he turns into one of those cat dad situations. He does his best to avoid this cat when he can, but ends up not succeeding, and the cat slowly grows on him. He still claims to hell and back he would never get a cat of his own, no matter how much time he spends with your furry friend.

[doobea]

Hi! Hello! Hope you're having a great day. I recently started following your acc and ur works are great. I'm not sure if reqs r open but I'll try to ask. Any bllk character in a scenario where their partner randomly said 'please don't leave me' at midnight or smth. I'm craving for some rlly good fluff rn. Thank u smm!

omg yes i am taking requests haha and you're actually the first one! it flatters me that you like my stuff because its been such a long time since I've written anything fandom related! I'll try my best with this scenario and hopefully you'll end up liking it too! :)

contents: gn!reader, established relationship, fluff, hurt and comfort (slightly), sfw characters mentioned: rin, oliver a/n: omg i hope this didn't take too long, I tried incorporating two different scenarios where the statement could be applied :) and decided to pick rin and oliver for this bc they were the first ppl to pop in my mind

"N-No, get away from me!"

The man runs away from the clouded figure in the shadows and into the thick open wheat field. He's frantically looking around, body and vision slowly getting disoriented as panic washes over any logic that was left. His beaded eyes dart towards the distance where a shed stands proud and breaks for it. Sounds of his heart thundered against his chest and he's trying so hard to ignore the fatigue in his legs.

Soon, he thinks, soon this will be all over. Soon everything will be back to normal and --

He trips over a stray log and watches over his shoulder as the shadow enigma creeps closer and closer until the screen fades to black.

Rin scowls as he watches the credits roll, seemingly unimpressed by the whole film, and is quick to find the remote to turn the TV off. "It's not the director's best work and the ending is completely different from the book." He complains, failing to realize that you've practically buried yourself underneath a mountain of pillows and plushies since the start of the movie. "I've heard the sequel is better, do you mind if we watch that tomorrow?"

You had no idea why you even agreed to join him on his sudden horror movie marathon. The whole genre made you queasy and leaves you feeling paranoid, wondering if the monsters on screen could come and haunt you next.

"Maybe we can watch Ponyo instead?" You suggest, voice muffled behind the stuffed animals.

"Ponyo?" Rin's teal eyes advert from the screen and now sees your shaken appearance and his gaze softens. "Was the movie that scary?" He says in a whisper.

Your head pokes out, teary-eyed and cheeks flushed. "Yeah."

His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into his warm and calming embrace, as his slender fingers rake through your hair. You have no idea how he manages to stay composed after every horror movie and wonders if he could hear your own hammering heartbeat. "Please don't leave me in the dark."

A longing kiss is pressed against your forehead followed by a quiet string of apologies. "We can stay up however long you want tonight."

"And do we get to watch Ponyo tomorrow?"

You feel him smiling against your skin. "We can watch Ponyo."

⋆˙⟡♡✧˖°

Rough noises of tossing and turning are heard from the opposite side of the bed as Oliver slowly awakens from his deep slumber. He groggily calls out your name before taking in the time that flashed across his phone.

"Baby, is everything alright?" He sits up and leans against the headboard, arm reaching out to wiggle your sleepy figure.

A low groan escapes your lips and he soon recognizes that you're experiencing a nightmare. Oliver doesn't hesitate to pinch your cheeks and start tickling your sides, it was his favorite way of waking you up and is definitely a lot more effective compared to shaking.

Your moans soon turn into full-on laughing fits as his hands made their way up and down your waist and dance across your stomach. Your eyes shot open and you see your boyfriend's proud expression beaming in the moonlight.

You rolled your eyes before smacking his hungry fingers away, pulling the blankets closer to your violated body. "What was that for?"

"For the record, you woke me up first."

"I hardly believe that."

Oliver sighs and pinches your cheeks again. "No seriously, were you having a nightmare or something?" He watches your mouth contort into a deep frown and felt a tense shift in the air.

After a long pause, you smile sadly. "You left me for someone else."

Oliver mimics your expression and presses his entire body weight on top of you, earning a loud 'oof' from your lips. "It's just a crappy dream, don't think too much about it."

He feels your arms wrap around his neck, shaky breath against his skin. "Mhm, sorry I guess sometimes it's hard to not think about your past sometimes."

"Definitely not gonna leave you, if that's what you're thinking." He starts peppering your shoulders and collarbones with his stubby kisses. "You're mine no matter what, okay?"

You roll your eyes and gently punch his back, feeling slightly better now that he can't see your reddened face. "Whatever, I think you owe me a date night tomorrow."

He pulls away and fakes a pout. "All because you dreamt of me cheating on you?"

You tug on the collar of his t-shirt, pulling him in for a brief peck on the lips. "Especially because of that."

[candycandy00]

The Offering - A Sukuna x Reader Fic Part 3

Once upon a time, Sukuna was a human man, albeit a monstrously cruel and powerful one. Villages across the land worshipped him as a living deity. One such village holds a festival for seven nights in his honor every year, and on each night they make generous offerings to him, including women who are never seen again. On the fifth night, you are selected to be the offering.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

If you’d like to be tagged when I post another part, comment to let me know. You must have your age in your bio or pinned post and be 18+ to be tagged.  

Feedback of any kind is greatly appreciated!

Smut. 18+. Sukuna is a human (my theory is that he got his four-armed body by modifying himself with jujutsu fuckery later in life). Dubcon. Mentions of rape that happened “off screen”. Very rough sex. Blood. Sukuna just generally being a sadistic monster. F!Reader. This is dark and quite intense!

Extra Note: I usually hate dropping random Japanese into a fanfic but I just had to incorporate his “Gambare, Gambare” line because I ascend to a higher plane of existence every time he says it in the anime (there is literally nothing I wouldn’t let Junichi Suwabe do to me). Also this chapter is entirely from Sukuna’s perspective.

It was nearly sundown when one of the shrine maidens reported to Sukuna that the offering was awake. They had cleaned her up and bandaged her wounds while she slept, and now she was in one of the side rooms, eating. 

He was lounging on a pile of pillows on the dais, absently looking through some of the material offerings that had just started to arrive at the shrine’s doors. He held up a beautiful silk robe that had been stitched with an intricate cherry blossom pattern, and found himself imagining the offering wearing it. 

He could see the pale pink color of the robe against the girl’s flushed skin, could see how the silk would glide across her body and cling to the wetness between her legs. He could see himself ripping it off her, could see her crying because she’d never worn something so fine in her miserable little life and now it was in tatters. He even imagined spreading it on the floor and fucking her on top of it, staining it with her blood and a mixture of their cum, then making her wear it again. 

“Lord Sukuna?”

The shrine maiden’s uneasy voice interrupted his daydream. He looked down at the bowing figure before him and said, “Yes? What is it?”

“I asked where you would like us to take the offering once she is finished eating,” she replied, never looking up. 

He rubbed the silk between his fingers and said, “Take her back to the bed.”

“Yes, Lord Sukuna,” the woman replied, getting to her feet without ever raising her eyes. 

“And have her wear this,” he said, tossing the lovely pink robe to the shrine maiden. 

She caught it deftly and gave another bow before leaving. 

Sukuna stood up and made his way to the bedroom, trying to decide what he would do to the offering tonight. He had plenty of ideas, ways to make her cry and scream in agony, ways to make her moan and cling to him as pleasure wracked her fragile body, ways to get any sort of reaction he wanted out of her. But something had occurred to him this afternoon and it had filled him with irrational annoyance. 

The offering had only climaxed when he used his mouth or fingers to stimulate her, never from being fucked by him. It shouldn’t have bothered him. After all he’d never cared the slightest bit about such things before, but he couldn’t help feeling irritated. So he decided: tonight she would cum on his cock. Multiple times. He would make certain of it. 

Once in his bedroom, he removed his own robe and climbed onto his bed, where he sat with his back against the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him. While waiting for the offering to appear, his mind wandered back to the fantasy he’d been imagining on the dais. His hand moved down to his cock and began lightly stroking while he pictured the offering in all sorts erotic or horrifying situations. 

By the time the shrine maidens announced their presence, he was rock hard and ready. 

They stepped into the room with their faces lowered, and behind them came the offering, wearing the pink cherry blossom robe. She got down on her knees and bowed as low as possible, and Sukuna dismissed the shrine maidens immediately. 

From the bed, he stared at her submissive form. While seeing her bow to him was pleasing, he wanted to see her whole body. “Stand,” he told her, and she did as he commanded. 

Now getting a good view of her in the robe, his breath almost caught in his throat. She looked so delicate and innocent in the robe, he wasn’t sure he’d have the patience to stick to his own plan for the night. 

Her eyes were instantly drawn to the raging erection he was still idly stroking. Like always, her eyes were glossy and frightened, but also unmistakably aroused. He still couldn’t quite grasp why she was so horny for him at all times, even when he hurt her, even when she was terrified. But that mystery was a part of why he found her so entertaining. 

“Th-thank you for the robe, Lord Sukuna,” she stammered out in that sweet voice. “I’ve never worn something so beautiful before.” 

Ahhh, there it was. Now he wanted to destroy it in front of her, to ruin it in some disgusting way and then tell her that’s all she deserves to wear and-

His eyes met her face, and she was smiling. It was the first time he’d seen her full, joyful smile, and it was far more lovely than he expected, so lovely that it derailed his train of thought entirely. 

He stopped stroking himself. He didn’t need to anymore. Her presence in the room, the smell of her skin, the certainty that beneath that fine robe her succulent little pussy was wet and needy for him, was more than enough to keep him hard. 

“Open the robe,” he told her, “but keep it on.”

That smile slowly slipped from her face, her cheeks reddening as she untied the sash and pulled the robe open. She was bandaged from her chest to right above her navel. There were a few faint red spots here and there to mark where she had been cut. 

“Come closer,” he commanded, and she stepped over to the bed. When she was within reach, he extended one arm and touched her bandaged breasts. With his fingers, he parted the white strips of cloth so that her pretty nipples stuck out between them, exposed, then he looked her over again. The bandages with their small blood stains, the way they squeezed and shaped her breasts, the hardening nipples peeking out, all made a very lurid sight. Then his eyes shifted down to her pussy, glistening with arousal, clear fluid already beginning to drip down her thighs. 

He used one finger to rub up her inner thigh, collecting a sticky drop. She flinched and tried to press her thighs together, obviously embarrassed. He licked the finger clean and wondered why she still felt shame over this. Did she not realize how pleasing it was for him to know he had this effect on her? 

“Climb onto me,” he said, and she blinked in surprise, then looked at his erection and seemed to understand what was happening. 

There was terror in her eyes, but also desire. She hesitated, then very carefully climbed onto the bed beside him. “How should I-“

“Face me,” he told her, and pulled her into his lap. With his height, they were at eye level with each other even with her sitting on him. She was a grown woman, but to someone as monstrously strong as him, she was practically weightless and had no more strength than a young bird. Her knees were on either side of his lap, her bottom resting on him, her slick pussy pressing against the underside of his cock, which was pointing at the ceiling. 

For a moment they just stared at each other. She was blushing again, probably intimidated by the extremely intimate position. Their faces were inches apart, and she had no choice but to look him in the eyes. Then he leaned even closer and said in his lowest, sexiest voice, “Get on my cock and fuck me until you cum.”

She drew back from him as if she’d been slapped, but his firm hands on her hips kept her in place. Her face was red as blood, her lips parted, her eyes becoming even more shiny and moist. Again, that glorious battle between fear and lust, all playing out on her face. 

He gave her hip a quick, light slap that made her cry out in surprise, and said, “You heard me.”

She looked so uncertain, so deliciously naive, that he couldn’t suppress a laugh at her expense. 

Her eyes darted back to his face. Was that… a hint of annoyance? At him? The audacity of it made him laugh again. “I’ll help you get the tip in, then it’s all you,” he told her. 

She nodded, then placed her hands on his shoulders and lifted herself up. He positioned his tip in the right place, just barely going inside her, then moved his hands back to her hips and waited. 

After several seconds of looking like she might faint from sheer panic, she finally began to ease herself down. After he was only halfway in, she winced and halted, her knees holding her up. She stayed that way, seemingly frozen, until he sighed and said, “You’re going to have to move at some point. Or can you really cum like this?”

She closed her eyes, her hands gripping his shoulders so tightly they might have hurt a normal man, her legs quivering on either side of him. And then she moved, just slightly, making shallow little thrusts. They were wholly unsatisfying to him, but watching her clumsy attempts to fuck him were amusing nonetheless. 

He spoke into her ear, “I hope you have a lot of stamina. It’s going to take you all night to cum like this, and you’re not getting off me until you do.” 

Upon hearing that, she took one hand off his shoulder and reached down, tentatively touching her swollen clit with her fingertips. 

He immediately grabbed her wrist and pulled it away. “No, you’re not allowed to touch your clit. Cum only from the feeling of my cock inside you.”

She made a pitiful whining sound and returned the offending hand to his shoulder, her eyes still closed. 

“Open your eyes and look at me,” he said, and she obeyed. While maintaining eye contact, he asked, “You’re always drenched for me, so why can’t you cum when I fuck you?”

She had tears in her eyes as she kept trying to move up and down on his shaft. “Because you’re so rough with me, Lord Sukuna. It hurts too bad.”

“Then you should thank me. In my infinite kindness, I’m allowing you to control how deep and how hard you get fucked.” 

She said nothing more, but he felt her slide down a little further, her movements increasing in speed. She had nearly found a rhythm. She moved in a circular motion, and he felt his tip hit a spongey spot that caused her to release one of those little moans that he loved so much. 

Her hands slid from his shoulders to press into his abdomen, right below his navel. The pink robe slipped from her shoulders and pooled around her elbows and waist, revealing her bandaged breasts and pert nipples. Her eyes shifted down to his bare torso, seemingly enjoying the sight as her moans became louder. 

“Look me in the eyes,” he said in that low voice, and he could see goosebumps spreading across her flesh. He grinned, then added another command, “Announce when you’re about to cum.”

Her eyes flew open and she looked mortified. “I… I can’t!”

“Do it or it doesn’t count.”

She whimpered, but kept moving, kept looking him in the eyes. 

She was getting close, he could feel it. She kept moving in a way that caused him to hit that spot she liked so much, her moans getting longer and closer together. 

He decided to help her out just a little. He put one hand in her hair, threading his fingers gently though the strands, and pulled her closer to him. With his lips grazing her ear, he said in such a soft, low voice that it was almost a whisper, “Cum for me. You have the great Ryomen Sukuna’s cock buried in that tight little pussy of yours. Think only of that. Concentrate on how I feel inside you, and cum while looking into my eyes.”

He pulled her back enough that she could look at him, and the expression of pure arousal on her face made his cock twitch. She mumbled something he didn’t hear clearly between her moans. 

“What was that?”

“… c-cumming,” she murmured, her eyes darting away from his for a split second. 

He smirked at her. “You have to speak clearly so I can hear you.”

Her voice was just a little louder when she said, “I’m about to cum…” And again she briefly looked away when she said it. 

His fingers were still in her hair, so he tightened his grip and held her head still. “Stop looking away. And be louder.”

Her eyes locked on his, and he saw that she was nearly in tears. “I’m cumming,” she cried out, “I’m cumming! I’m cumming! Ahhhh!”

He felt her pussy clench him tightly as her body tensed up. She sat there, eyes frozen on his, her entire body twitching and convulsing until her orgasm finally passed. Then she collapsed against his chest, panting heavily, her weak legs somehow still holding her up. 

Sukuna had watched all this with amusement, but his own desire was totally unfulfilled. He’d told her she could control how deep he went, but how could he resist going deeper when this warm, wet little thing was over halfway down his cock, her body trembling against his? Even his willpower wasn’t that strong. 

His hands moved to her hips, and before she could react at all, he jerked her all the way down, his entire length disappearing inside her. The shocked expression on her face made him want to laugh. She’d gasped, her eyes widening and instantly filling with tears, her soft hands pressing against him as if she could push herself back up. But he was holding her down firmly, thoroughly enjoying how this angle allowed him to penetrate her even more deeply than the other times he’d fucked her. 

“You haven’t made me cum yet,” he told her. “Don’t be selfish and pass out before satisfying me. Now start moving.”

She was shaking, looking at him as if he’d betrayed her. “I can’t,” she cried, “it hurts!”

He reached up and stroked her hair in a comforting manner, and in a sweet voice he spoke savage words: “Ride my cock until I cum into your womb, or I’ll paint the entire shrine in your blood.”

Her face was stricken with horror, but she gradually began to move again. It seemed harder for her this time, as she was practically impaled, but she’d just figured out how to move in a way that felt good, so she tried repeating the motions from earlier. It worked, evidenced by the short moan she released. 

Sukuna grinned, using his hand in her hair to hold her head still, not allowing her to look away. He wanted to watch all the delectable emotions in her eyes as her body was caught between pleasure and pain. With his free hand he squeezed one of her breasts, then used his thumb to circle an exposed nipple. She was moaning again, filling his ears with such glorious sounds. 

“You’re doing so well, taking me so deep,” he whispered in her ear, “but you can take me harder too, right?”

She shook her head while maintaining eye contact, but she was clenching him again, breathing harder, making an actual attempt to move faster. He moved his face closer to hers and ran his tongue across her lips, parting them and invading her mouth, letting his own saliva drip onto her tongue. He pulled away and said in a voice that he knew would send shivers through her whole body:

“Gambare, gambare…”

The result was immediate. She clamped down on him and cried out, “Ahhh! C-cumming!”

He was pleased that she remembered to say it, and he enjoyed watching her lose herself to her climax, but her movements had slowed considerably. She was leaning on him, her weak body nearly spent. 

“Don’t stop moving,” he said, his voice low and threatening. 

She whined but picked up speed again. It looked like such a struggle for her, keeping his massive erection so deep inside, moving up and down while her orgasm was still wracking her body, keeping her teary eyes locked on his. She was still using that motion that caused him to hit her sweet spot, and she was so sensitive from cumming twice in a short amount of time that she was working her way to another climax.

But he didn’t want the pleasure to completely overtake the pain, so he pinched her nipple harshly, making her wince and grip his shoulders. 

Disappointed by her reaction, he moved his hands to her waist and lifted her up, then slammed her back down. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out, as if she had lost her breath. 

“Not going to scream for me?” he asked. “That’s the fastest way to get me off.”

He lifted her up again, but as he did so, she suddenly leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, clutching him as if doing so would make the pain bearable. He suddenly remembered the sight of her radiant smile while thanking him for the robe, and his hands faltered. She eased back down onto him, as deep as before but nowhere near as hard. 

“Lord Sukuna…” she murmured, tightening her arms around him, moving up and down slowly, carefully. He could feel every part of her, from her breasts pressed against his chest to the walls of her drenched pussy, to her delicate hands gripping him. 

His hold on her hips tightened, and he pulled her down so that he was as deep as possible when he shot his seed into the very core of her being. Even after he had bottomed out, she still clung to him, not moving off him. 

He pulled back enough to look at her face, and found her usual lusty expression. He laughed. “Do you like being stuffed full of me that much?”

She didn’t answer, but she moved as if to climb off him. He stopped her and said, “Take off the robe and throw it to the floor. You don’t want to stain it, right?”

She nodded, looking embarrassed for not thinking of that herself. She slipped the robe off and dropped it beside the bed, then she eased herself off his cock, wincing. 

His cum, hers, and a small amount of blood poured out and spilled in his lap. He didn’t mind, but she seemed distressed by the sight. “Ah, there’s a mess, Lord Sukuna,” she said, rolling off him and sitting up on the edge of the bed. 

He grabbed a blanket and wiped it all up, then tossed the blanket aside. The offering stood up and bent down to retrieve the pink robe from the floor. She carefully folded it into a neat square, then smiled again and hugged the bundle of fabric to her chest. She looked so happy, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

“Do fine clothes please you so much?” he asked her as he scooted down so that he was lying on his back. 

She looked at him and then back to the robe, a faint blush on her cheeks. “It is beautiful, my Lord, but more than that… it’s a gift from you!” She turned her face away shyly, but he could tell she was wearing an ecstatic expression. 

He blinked, surprised by the fact that he liked looking at her this way. He’d never once wanted to see someone happy, to see them smile. He craved suffering and misery for everyone around him. But just this once… perhaps seeing someone’s joy wasn’t so bad. After all, he was going to kill her once the festival ended. He’d never left an offering alive, not even in other villages that held similar festivals. He watched her hugging the robe and extended his hand to her. “Come,” he said, pulling her back into the bed after she laid the folded robe on the nearby dresser. 

He pulled her on top of him and threw a sheet over them both. She looked at him curiously, but he was already starting to fall asleep. For perhaps the first time in his life, Ryomen Sukuna fell asleep with a woman in his arms. 

Tag List:

@yourmumsthings @boogeysmoth @gojoscumslut @slut4animedilfs @urcrybby24 @kaqua @mizloca @httpslu0

[goosetheluce]

Teach Me (Gwen Stacy x Fem!Reader)

requested by anon: "gwen stacy x fem reader where gwen is trying to teach reader how to play the drums 😽😽"

warnings: suggestive tension, flirting, pet names, kissing

a/n: this is random, but i imagined gwen playing "spin" by taking back sunday, if you'd like a better picture of the fic

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

You wrapped your fingers around the doorframe, peering over it from the hallway. You had just finished up a meeting stemming from your extracurricular. You marveled the ghostly stairwells; the school was basically empty, especially where Gwen was. You and Gwen had agreed to meet each other at the music room, where she usually practiced every day after school. As you strolled by the room, you saw her scrolling on her phone with her headphones beginning to blare music. She looked warm with the evening sun washed over her brown-and-blonde undercut.

She clearly had no idea you were just outside the room, still nodding along to her playlist.

Huh, you thought. She really doesn't see me. You stepped out from behind the wall and instead leaned against the doorframe. You crossed one of your ankles over the other and watched silently as Gwen immersed herself.

She had been tapping her drumsticks along to whatever song she was listening to against the drumset, but as the seconds ticked by, her rhythm incorporated the rest of her limbs and head.

Warming up, maybe?

With a quick tap on her phone, Gwen's headphones suddenly tuned into the speakers in the room. She slid her headphones off her ears, letting them fall to her shoulders. She twirled her right drumstick and positioned her shoe atop the bass, still studying the set beneath her.

A grin spread across her face, and her first movements began as the next song started. Initially, she went timidly along with the song, still seeming a bit reserved. To a stranger, she would have seemed at peace, but you knew Gwen. Her shoulders were slightly tensed, and her face remained relatively straight.

Just a few seconds later, though, the chorus hit, and Gwen began nearly abusing the set. Her shoulders loosened completely as her passion bubbled to the surface, crashing against the drums perfectly with the song. She began to scream along, her face twisting and throwing her body along with the current of the percussion.

Her head hung closer to the drums, hair swaying and bouncing as she nodded with such aggression it made your head hurt. Her muscles pushed against her milky skin as she kept drumming; veins, which were usually veiled, appeared. You realized her eyes were squeezed close while pounding away, and you wondered in awe how long she had been learning.

It all lasted but a minute before she finally looked in your direction and choked on the lyrics pouring from her mouth. She kicked on the wrong beat (the first and last time you'd ever hear such a mistake) and swiftly paused the music.

"Jesus, Y/N, I thought Halloween was two months away. Care to give me another heart attack?"

You let out a breathy laugh, striding to Gwen. "Wasn't my intention. You were fucking great, though." And hot, you thought separately. Sweat began dripping down Gwen's arms and face from the cease of action.

"Thanks! Been playing for a few years now," she explained casually. Your brow furrowed.

"A few years? I figured you'd been playing your whole life."

"Oh, hell no. I live in an apartment. I could only start learning once I got to high school, where there was an actual set."

You nodded, walking behind Gwen to play with her hair. Your fingers sifted through her coarse strands. She brought her hand up to gently wrap around your forearm absentmindedly.

"You're just a genius at drums, then," you remarked after a few moments. Gwen scoffed.

"I wouldn't say that...anyone can learn."

Your hands fell away from her hair to rest on your hips. "Oh, really?" you taunted. "Teach me, then." Gwen turned her head to where you could see her side profile. Her lips pulled into a smirk.

"Yes, ma'am," she teased. She rose from her seat and guided your shoulders to sit you down.

She leaned down to pick up her drumsticks, placing them in your open palms and shutting your fingers around them.

"There are 5 actual drums in most standard kits. There are 3 toms," she instructed, pointing to each respective piece. "The bass, and then the snare. There are also ride cymbals, hi-hats, and crash cymbals." You tried to absorb as much information as possible, clutching the sticks.

She snaked behind you, settling her hands on your shoulders once more. You could feel her intense eyes trained on the back of your neck.

"Hit the snare."

You reached toward the snare, timidly tapping it. It barely made a sound.

"I said hit it."

More force snapped against the drum this time. Gwen, now hovering beside your ear, smiled.

"Better. Now, kick the bass twice in a row."

You obeyed, beginning to quiver. Being around Gwen made you nervous. Butterflies erupted in your abdomen as her breath passed over your neck.

"Yeah, keep that going, babe. Immediately after the second kick, hit the snare and crash at the same time."

You fumbled the timing over and over again, hesitating with each do-over. Part of it had to do with the honeyed words Gwen rasped into your ear. You let out a shaky breath and closed your eyes.

Christ, I need her to kiss me.

You turned your head to face her, scanning her. Embarrassment scorched your cheeks. She was amused by this.

Giving in to your bottled frustration, you erupted from your seat and nearly got to Gwen's lips.

Nearly.

Gwen denied your attempt by firmly cupping your face in her hands. Her corners of her plump lips twitched with a small smirk. She leaned forward.

"Finish the sequence and you'll get what you want," she murmured, a tease edging her voice.

You groaned and plopped back on the seat, swiveling around to face the kit.

"Just focus, hon. You got it."

Impress her.

You took a deep breath, held it for a second, and started the progression as you released the air from your lungs. Your muscles tightened. You just wanted to get this right.

Right for her.

You messed it up again a few times, sweat pricking atop your skin with concentration. You felt the frustration settling in the cavity of your chest again. You felt Gwen's fingertips brush against your cheek from the back.

"Just let go," she suggested softly.

You nodded. "Okay."

As Gwen's body pressed up against your back, you closed your eyes and relaxed your muscles. You envisioned the routine in your head, eyes still closed, and went for it.

Getting out of your own head worked, and the moment you realized it did, you kept the rhythm going. After spending fifteen minutes trying to perfect the instructions from Gwen, the relief was sweet.

You stumbled again and stopped, but it didn't matter. You succeeded.

To your surprise, Gwen's arms wrapped around your waist and she pulled you out of your chair. She whirled you around and pulled your body tightly against her willowy build. She wound her fingers into the hair on the nape of your neck, pushing you towards her lips.

The kiss was heated, passionate. It lit you ablaze as her other hand slid down your body and rested firmly on your hips. When she pulled your lips apart, her eyes were glazed and heavy. Her cheeks were flushed with fire. Giggling at your dazed expression, she kissed your neck.

"Anyone can learn...with rewards."

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

[cambion-companion]

Worshipping aemond’s body is the dream

So....what if Aemond and Y/N are involved, and have been for a long time, and Aemond's plan was to marry Y/N. However, Viserys dies, and Alicent needs Aemond to marry a Baratheon to secure an alliance. Aemond is unable to tell Y/N before she finds out via court gossip and...well...these anon requests really inspired me.

Word count: 3600

I also incorporated an idea I saw a while ago of Aemond stimulating his lover using his sapphire...so...uh...enjoy?

Aemond x reader | Smut | cockwarming | 18+ | jealous reader | angst | fluff | a bit of everything

You pressed the palms of your hands against your swollen face, pushing your skin back as if to try and hide the evidence of your sleepless night.  The redness of your eyes betrayed you, as did the fresh tears threatening to spill down your blotchy cheeks.  

In the haze of your clouded mind you heard on repeat the gossip you had overheard the day before; while you had meandered innocently through the many courtiers whispering about the recent death of King Viserys Targaryen and all that had entailed, your keen ears had caught a woman speaking with her friend about the imminent betrothal of Prince Aemond with one of Boros Baratheon’s daughters.  

You had stopped mid-stride, your skirts rustling in the chill breeze, frozen as you gaped at the lady.  She caught your obvious stare and gave you a polite, though quizzical smile. “Can I help you, Lady Y/N?”

It took you a moment to regain your composure. “I couldn’t help but overhear, did you say Ae-Prince Aemond was betrothed?”

“With Aegon being put forth as heir, a civil war is going to be hard to avoid.”  The woman gave you a somber look as she walked closer to where you stood rigidly rooted to the ground. “Word has already spread far that in order to secure the Baratheons to their side, the prince must promise to wed a Baratheon daughter.”

“I see.”  You didn’t really.  Especially not with the sudden blurriness of your vision as you blinked the tears rapidly away.  “Excuse me.”

She watched curiously as you stumbled away, tripping on the hem of your skirts and catching yourself on the stone banister.  

With a little gasp you brought yourself back from your reverie to the present, sitting at your vanity, staring unseeing at your reflection.  

Someone knocked at your bedroom door.

“Not now, I do not wish to be disturbed.”  Typically, your maidservant waited upon you later in the day.  You squinted out the window.  The sun had barely begun to break the horizon.

“It’s me.”  

Sudden anger flared in your chest at the sound of Aemond’s voice, you were tempted to send him away without even opening the door.

With a groan you crossed the spacious chamber, pulling the door open to give the prince a generous view of your figure clad in only your thin nightgown.  Aemond’s eye roved your curves briefly before flicking back to your face.  A muscle was working in his sharp jaw.  “May I come in?”

Wordlessly you stepped aside, and he brushed passed you, his hands were tightly clamped behind his back.  You folded your arms across your chest and waited for him to speak.  

“I see you’ve had a long night.”  He picked up an empty wine bottle from the ground and placed it gingerly atop your dresser. “Dare I ask?”

“You dare a great deal of late it would seem.”  Your words came out more cutting than you intended, but you weren’t going to back down now. “Accepting an arranged marriage without so much as telling me.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice, Y/N.” Aemond turned towards you, though he seemed loathe to look you in the eyes.

“You could have spoken to me…let me hear it from your lips. Not from some random lady at court.”  You crossed to him, grasping his chin and forcing him to meet your gaze. “Do I mean so little to you?”

Aemond made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, jerking his face away from your grasp.  His brow was furrowed as he shook his silver head. “You know how I feel about you.”

“I certainly do now!”

“As I have already stated,”  Aemond was growing impatient, you could tell by the purse of his lips. “I had no choice in the matter.  Boros Baratheon will side with Rhaenyra if we do not compromise with him.”

“What of Daeron?  Could he not marry one of the daughters instead?”  You gestured wildly, letting your arms fall heavily against your sides. “You didn’t even think to mention me?  The woman you’ve supposedly ‘loved’ for years?”  

“Y/N-”

“You didn’t even put up a fight, did you?”  Fresh tears were already sliding down your face.  You were surprised you had any left.  

“We are to be at war very soon, Y/N.”  In a swift moment, Aemond grabbed your arms, holding you as though you were anchoring him to the floor, keeping him from falling. “If I do not do my duty as second-born son of the king, my family will be displaced and worse.  You will be no safer.”

“I love you.”  Your voice was so small, you wondered if he could hear you. “Is that not enough?”

“No, Y/N.”  His hands fell away from your arms as he let you go. “Love is crystalline notion that shatters at the lightest breeze of adversity.”

“Duty is the death of love.”  You breathed; your eyes still trained on the carpeted floor.

He didn’t reply.  

It was you who now couldn’t look at him. “I want you to leave.” Aemond hesitated but you were adamant. “Get out of my room.”

You heard him sigh softly, his fingers grazed your shoulder as he passed you, you flinched away.  The sound of the door closing behind him cut through your heart, you sank to your knees upon the cold ground, gasping sobs racking your chest as utter despair closed in about you.

Two days passed.

You did not leave your chambers, nor did you accept the food the servants brought to you.  You were certain gossip had spread of a terrible illness you had contracted making you unable to leave your rooms.  Most of the time you spend whiling away the hours spread-eagled on your mattress, staring blankly at the ceiling, remembering the way Aemond had made you feel during those intimate nights spent in each other’s arms, and how it could possibly be all over now.

“The queen mother insists you eat your supper tonight.”  The serving girl pleaded with you from where she stood, bearing a tray of steaming food.

“I’m not hungry.”

“My lady, you haven’t eaten for almost two days now.” She insisted.

“Please go away.”  You rose to your feet from where you’d been slouching upon the sofa, shooing the girl out of your room and slamming the door shut behind her.  

You collapsed back onto the couch, massaging your temples and staring into the flickering fire in your hearth.  Another knock on the door sent you stomping angrily back across the room. “I thought I told you-” You had yanked it open to reveal not a serving girl, but Aemond. “Oh.”  

You turned away and sat stiffly back down on the couch, allowing Aemond to enter your room, closing and bolting the door behind him.  “Y/N, I’ve come to talk to you.”

You didn’t answer, busying yourself with studying the pattern of embroidery on your skirt.

“You need to eat.”

Your hands clenched the fabric of your dress, if another person told you to eat you would lose your mind. Yet, you still didn’t dignify Aemond with a response.

“Y/N.”  

Silence.

“Y/N, talk to me.  Please.”

You pursed your lips together, still feigning deafness.

“You cannot continue on like this.”  Aemond’s voice was growing heavy with anger, you could almost feel it sparking off your skin. “Behaving like a petulant child.”

A firm hand closed around your arm, yanking you to your feet roughly. “Look at me.”  He breathed, taking your chin between two fingers and tilting your head up. “Speak to me.  At this point you could curse at me, and I would thank you for it.”

You gave him a withering glare, hating how handsome he looked, the firelight reflecting gold on his silver hair.  His lilac eye alight and wide with roiling emotions as he locked gazes with you.

Your lips parted despite yourself, the air between your bodies charged with electricity.  

The familiar smell of smoke and leather rose from his tunic and hair, filling your nostrils.  You tilted your head. “You’ve been riding Vhagar.”

“More often than I am used to of late.”  He nodded, his thumb caressing the skin of your cheek.  His small smile faded. “Tell me how I can help you.”

You bit your bottom lip.  His eye followed the movement.

You did not answer him.

Aemond’s grip on your chin tightened fractionally, he raised his eye to the ceiling, heaving a sigh. “You are as stubborn as a dragon.”  He looked at you once more, his gaze softening into something you’d never before seen. “And twice as deadly.”

Your scoff of derision was swallowed as Aemond pressed his lips firmly against your own, his hair was tangled in your fingers before you mind could catch up with your eager movements, pulling him closer to your arching body.

In a sudden burst of anger, you bit his lip ungently. Instead of breaking away as you had intended, Aemond gave a groan of pleasure at your rough treatment and forced his tongue into your mouth, tasting you even as you tried to push him off.

You successfully broke the kiss, pleased to see a tiny mark on Aemond’s bottom lip where you’d bit. “I am angry with you.”  You reminded him, still breathless and rather unconvincing.  

Your breath caught in your throat, betraying you, as Aemond ran an exploratory hand up your side, teasingly brushing the swell of your breast.  “You will forgive me.”

“Hardly likely.”  You laughed in his face. “You’ll have to make me.”

“That was my intention.”  Aemond didn’t give you time to react, scooping you into his arms and reclaiming your mouth with his.  

You squeaked, your fists on his shoulders smoothing as you ran your hands up the column of his neck as he backed you up, your knees buckling as they hit the edge of your bed.  All the pain and sorrow of the last couple days swallowed up by the feel of him back where he belonged within your embrace.

Aemond crawled over you, his mouth trailing fire along your jaw, down your neck, as his dexterous fingers untied the lacings of your bodice.  You gave a gasp of surprise as Aemond pulled your gown roughly down, taking your bare breasts in both of his hands, squeezing and rubbing your nipples while he kissed a path along your collarbone.  You arched into him, moaning loudly, grasping weakly at his wrists as he continued kneading your flesh.

“Still mad at me, my love?”  Aemond peered up at you teasingly flicking the tip of his tongue against your pebbled nipple.  

You gave a gasp at the titillating sensation but still managed to glower. “Yes.”  With more effort than you anticipated you flipped Aemond over, using the momentum to straddle his torso.  

He looked up at you, his cheeks flushed, and mouth parted in surprise.  You must look quite the sight with your dress halfway off, with shimmying movements that purposefully ground against the hard length of Aemond’s arousal, you shed the rest of it and tossed it to the ground.  

“You’re wearing far too much clothing.”  You slapped his hands away as Aemond made to undo his tunic clasps. “No.  You are not to touch anything but those blankets beneath you until I let you.”

“Y/N…” Aemond began in a warning voice, but you began climbing off of him. “Wait.”  The plea in that one word stilled your movements. “Continue…please.”

With a sly smile you resettled yourself atop him, your slick cunt already leaving wet marks upon the fabric of his tunic as you began to undo the clasps of his clothing.  Soon Aemond was as bare as you, the head of his erect cock prodding the flesh of your ass as you leaned down, pressing your chest flush against his, letting him feel your softness against the hard planes of his body.  

His hands fisted the blankets, his jaw twitching as he watched your every movement.  You carefully lifted the eyepatch off his face, revealing the sapphire beneath.  You kissed the cool gemstone with gentle care, eliciting a small sound from Aemond. His hand raised as though to touch your face, but you stopped him with a look. “Touch me before I tell you to, and I will leave.”

He watched you with a mixture of wariness and wonder, returning his hand to the bedspread obediently.  

“Good.”  You crooned, kissing him deeply, rocking your hips slightly.

You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, your hands combing through the silken hair now fanned out over the pillows.  His skin was soft, you loved the feel of it beneath your lips as you kissed down his neck and out across his shoulder.  

Aemond had several freckles on his chest, you placed a kiss to each one.  His breathing quickened noticeably as you licked a stripe up the center of his muscled chest.

“Y/N…” Aemond’s eye was hooded as he looked down at you, your tongue circling his nipple now. “What are you doing?”

You paused a moment, replacing your tongue with your fingers, tracing a ticklish circle around his nipple. “Making you realize some important truths.”

“Such as-ah-” Aemond tilted his head back as you began sucking at his nipple, mouthing as much skin of his pectoral as you could, massaging the muscle there with both hands as you did so.  

He was having a difficult time keeping his hands to himself, and you chuckled sinfully against his flushed skin, moving to the other side, licking and swirling your tongue with eager strokes. You were getting quite the reaction out of your prince, making sure to mark him with your teeth as well as your tongue as you nibbled your way down to his abdomen, loving the way his breathing had become erratic at your attentions.  

“I can feel your arousal on my skin, Y/N.”  Aemond panted. “I need to touch you.”

You gave one last little bite to his torso before sitting up, gracing him with a full view of just how turned on you had become.  You ground down upon him, rubbing your slick along the shaft of his member, watching his lustful expression as Aemond bucked up against you in return, desperate to be inside you.

“Who has been by your side since we were children, Aemond?”

He took a steadying breath, trying to regain some composure. “You.”

“Who has warmed your bed for the past three years?”

“You, Y/N.”

“Who are you going to marry?”

“You.” In a fluid movement that sent the breath from your lungs, Aemond twisted, pinning you to the mattress beneath his weight.  “If you let me touch you now, that is.”

“Touch me, Aemond.”

He grinned, kissing you fiercely.  His hands running the length of your body, tracing every detail of you, as though he wanted to memorize the feel of you beneath his fingertips. “Moan for me.” He was in control now, your body putty in his hands.  Your voice raised in pleasure mingled with the crackling fire and Aemond’s panting breaths as he parted your legs, fingers brushing the wet folds of your quim.  

He kissed you again, swallowing your mewls as his body moved against your heated skin, inserting a digit into you and pumping slowly.  You tried to move against him, but he stopped you, pressing his weight firmly down upon your writhing form.  “Patience, darling.”  He purred in your ear, nibbling at the sensitive skin there. “All good things to those who wait.”

You whimpered against the heated skin of his plush lips, twisting his silver hair around your fingers, reveling in the feeling of him pressing down on you, stretching your cunt as he pushed another finger into you, twisting and curling against the spot that had you crying out in ecstasy.  

Your orgasm was almost upon you, your vision was going white as you squeezed Aemond’s waist with your thighs.  Suddenly he removed his hand from your heat, dragging a curse of protest from your mouth as you fought to regain some form of friction, your hips twisting helplessly.

“Surely you didn’t think to tease and dominate me with no consequences, my ember?”  Aemond tilted his head at your indignant expression, the ends of his long hair tickling your chest. “It is only fair I return the favor.  Do not move.”

He rose from the bed, turning from you momentarily, seemingly not wishing for you to see what he was doing.  His head dipped, hands busy at his face.  When Aemond faced you again, the sapphire stone was in his hand, his left eye empty.  It was not the first time you’d seen him like this, the way the prince was observing you sent a fresh shiver through your core.

“Open your legs for me.”

You obeyed, welcoming him as he crawled back over you.  

“Wider.”

“Aemond, what are you planning?”

He gave you a devious smirk.  Your hips jerked as he placed the cold faceted stone against your clit, beginning to rub light circles against the swollen nub.

“Aemond!”

“Hmm.”  He kissed your inner thigh, running the tip of his tongue to the junction of your legs.  “The reaction I was hoping for.”

Your knees locked around his head as he dipped his tongue into you, still working his sapphire against your sensitive clit.  The lewd sounds of him lapping up the nectar of your sex combined with the feel of the stone rubbing on your most sensitive parts sent you over the edge.  The force of your orgasm slammed into you, your hips rose off the mattress, Aemond’s head still held tightly by your thighs as he drank your release down, still mercilessly stroking your pussy with his sapphire until you were begging for him to stop.

“Aemond please, please.”  You gasped and writhed, his tongue still licking up your release. “I can’t, it’s too much!”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, the sensation overwhelming.  Your hands fisted in his hair, trying to pry him away from your spasming cunt.  With a satisfying pop, Aemond released you from his mouth, looking at you with a dilated violet eye.  He moved over you, pinning your hips with his own, his ready cock probing at your entrance as he pressed the drenched sapphire to your lips. “Taste yourself.”  He commanded.  

Eyes wide, you obeyed.  Aemond watched as your tongue darted out, licking your orgasm off the deep blue stone.  With a wanton groan, Aemond tossed it aside, swooping down to press his lips against yours.  In one movement, he entered you, his growl of pleasure drowned out by your loud cry.  Your nails dug into the skin of his back as you adjusted to his size, the walls of your quim stretching to accommodate the sudden intrusion.

Aemond’s eye was closed, his mouth slack as he relished the feeling of being inside you.  You wiggled beneath him, already seeking to chase the fresh wave of arousal coursing through you.  Aemond’s eye snapped open, he smiled before placing a kiss to the tip of your nose.  “Be still.”  He nuzzled against the hollow of your throat, the scent of his hair filling your nostrils. “I want to savor you.”  

You grunted, a flare of defiance sparking in your chest as you moved your hips as best you could against him.

Aemond’s teeth grazed your neck sharply. “I said be still, Y/N.  I don’t wish to cum just yet.”

The vulnerability in his voice gave you pause, and you allowed him to rest atop your body, his weight pleasantly pressing you into the mattress.  You smoothed his tousled hair with your hands. “Are you alright, Aemond?”

You knew the answer, but the passion he had shown you tonight spoke to an inner turmoil only you could recognize.  Aemond hummed low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your chest.  He mouthed at the flesh of your breast, seeking comfort in the soft feel of your body.  “I will be, my ember.  We will be.”

His tongue found your nipple, your cunt clenched around his member in response. Aemond hissed at the sensation, rutting into you despite himself.  You coaxed him to continue, your legs opening wider for him, your wandering hands finding the curve of his ass where you dug your nails.

“Vixen.”  Aemond murmured, sucking a bruise onto your throat as he began moving inside you at last.  

He held your knees against the mattress as he pumped into you, his cock already beginning to twitch inside your core.  You could feel him closing in on his release, your quim tightening in response.  

“Please…”  Your words trailed off into sounds of pleasure mingled with soft utterances of his name.  

With a forceful movement, Aemond sheathed himself fully inside you, his fingers marking the skin of your thighs as his hot cum flooded your cunt.  Aemond pulled out halfway before sinking back into you, sending you over the edge, your ecstasy pulling his seed deeper as you clenched and quivered around him.

“Y/N.” Aemond breathed your name in reverence, his hair shining like a moonlit river over his shoulders.  “I love you.”

You brought him back down to meet you in a heated kiss, pouring your adoration into every move of your mouth against his, your heels pressing against his backside, pressing him further into you as you rode out the last waves of your orgasm.  

“Aemond.”  Your thoughts were proving difficult to gather, the bliss of your lovemaking making your eyelids heavy.  “Tell me you’re mine.”

Aemond pulled slowly out of you, leaving you feeling oddly empty, even as he collapsed on the bed next to you, pulling you securely into his warm embrace.  His fingers traced low at your abdomen as he trailed featherlight kisses up the arch of your neck. “I give myself willingly to you.”  He kissed your lips as you turned your head to look at his face. “A dragon is only claimed by one who is worthy.”  Aemond kissed you again, lingering to brush his nose against yours. “You are mine as I am yours, Y/N.”

“You will marry me then?”  You whispered, hardly daring to ask the question even with the look of utter adoration Aemond was bestowing upon you.

“If there is a future to be had,”  Aemond pressed his forehead tenderly against your own. “I would walk into it gladly at your side.”

[wanderinginksplot]

One Shot: Captain Fordo + Gear

Captain Fordo x gn!reader. Flirtatious.

Word Count: 5,800

Warnings: fear of heights, descriptions of panic, awkwardness, flirtations both verbal and physical.

---

One of your favorite parts of working with the clone troopers was figuring out everyone’s interests and passions. Some were obvious - Cog liked anything mechanical - while others were well-hidden, like Pierce’s skill for baking. 

It had been strange in the beginning, watching men who were known across the galaxy as lethal warriors coo over some small thing that had caught their attention. Now, you found it charming and utterly endearing. 

You had been in the hangar for less than two seconds when someone called your name. The commanding tone and friendly pitch told you immediately that it was Captain Fordo, but you still made eye contact and let him beckon you over before you changed your course to approach him. 

Fordo was one of the troopers you had been working with the longest. He was an Alpha ARC, one of the first troopers the Kaminoans had ever produced. He was taller and broader than most of his brothers, though you suspected some of that was the way he held himself to keep the kama around his waist from getting in his way. That bearing was one of his most unique traits, a remnant of the training he had received from Jango Fett himself. 

And, when you were being truly honest with yourself, he was your favorite of the men. He was certainly the one to whom you were closest - every time you were in the same area as him, Fordo made a point of speaking with you, even if it was only for a few minutes at a time. 

You had barely gotten into earshot when Fordo started waving something at you. “Have you seen these yet?” 

“I can’t even see it now,” you pointed out. 

After he rolled his eyes at your comedic squint, Fordo lifted the object up for you. He held it carefully, using his fingertips at the very bottom of it so you could see the entirety of whatever piece of new gear he had managed to pick up. 

Because that was his passion. In fact, ‘passion’ might still be putting things lightly. Captain Fordo verged on obsession with the gear that made up his kit. He could always be counted on to find new, obscure things that he thought should be added to the standard gear all troopers carried around. And, since he tested everything himself - on and off the battlefield - he was usually right. 

And it wasn’t just weaponry. Tactical gear, survival gear… anything Fordo thought was interesting, he fixated on. He needed to dig in, find out how it worked, how useful it was, whether he could create anything better, and then how it could be incorporated into the current collection of standard gear. He had come up with countless ideas in the past, several of them so clever and helpful that the GAR’s Procurement Department had consulted with him to find the correct materials to purchase. 

“Well?” Fordo pressed, one brow arching impatiently. “You can see it now, can’t you?”

You laughed despite the inherent rudeness in his question. He didn’t mean anything by it, it was just how he always was. Fordo was a man of many contrasts. He could be brash and impatient, but he always had time to help a friend or get into the specifics of a piece of gear for someone who didn’t understand how to operate it. He could be flippant, but he also visibly brightened when he saw you. Many people described him as too professional and businesslike, but he always took a moment to show you the newest gadget to have captured his attention. 

“I can,” you admitted readily. “But that doesn’t help me much. I have no idea what that is.”

“Let me just demonstrate it for you.”

“Sounds good to me,” you agreed, trying to hide your smile. The brash, flippant, business-like captain was nearly vibrating with excitement as he prepared to show you what the new piece of gear did. 

Abruptly, your smile disappeared and you found yourself trying to stifle a gasp instead. Fordo reached out and towed you close as soon as you had agreed to his suggestion. He even wrapped an arm firmly around your waist, holding you against the plastoid of his red-touched armor. There was the noise of a clip and a brief popping sound, but it was nothing more than a backdrop to your raging thoughts.

That simple contact was the first moment you considered that your feelings of favoritism toward Captain Fordo might run a little deeper than pure friendship. The sudden flash of realization made you feel unsteady, like your knees weren’t actually supporting your weight anymore. 

And then you looked up. 

And then you looked down. 

You had noticed that the ceiling of the expansive hangar bay looked closer than it should have as you looked past Fordo’s face, but you still weren’t quite prepared to see the floor so very far below your feet. 

The casual, half-startled grip you’d had on Fordo’s shoulders turned much, much tighter as you bit back a squeak of alarm. Past the blood rushing through your ears, you could hear Fordo explaining the new gear to you. 

“-about time we developed an ascension cable with the capability to hold two people. It’s gonna make hostage retrieval a lot easier. Or Seppie retrieval. Either way.” Fordo’s shrug made the edges of your vision go white with terror. 

The only reason you weren’t screaming was because you were hooked to the cable as well. To be in the hangar bay, all workers had to wear a harness. You had always thought it was a stupid policy, since you weren’t about to climb anything tall, but the way it was supporting your weight as well made you mentally thank whoever had decided on the policy. Of course, if you hadn’t been wearing a harness, Fordo probably wouldn’t have launched you up into the air without more of a warning…

Fordo was oblivious to your fear, glancing curiously around the hangar instead. To be fair, he probably hadn’t seen it from this angle before. You certainly hadn’t, and you would give all of your credits not to be seeing it then. “And the cable itself is longer. Previous versions had a maximum vertical firing distance of seventy-five meters. I just fired this cable at double that distance and there’s still some available to spool- What’s going on?”

“I’m just-” Your explanation broke off in an embarrassing squeak as you rotated slightly. “I don’t- don’t like heights.”

“You didn’t tell me that before I pulled you a hundred meters into the air?” Fordo bit out. The condemnation was sharp, but you knew him too well to be fooled. There was concern behind it. His free hand moved to the small tube that had caused the whole mess, expertly manipulating the buttons.

“If you had told me it was an ascension cable, I would have,” you countered. 

Your thoughts were starting to feel a little distant. You had never liked heights, but there was something about this situation that seemed particularly bad. Several things, actually. 

These hangar bays were built to hold large ships, and were among the largest free-standing structures in the galaxy in order to accommodate those ships. The demonstration would have been equally bad if you were a dozen feet in the air, but the legitimacy of being scared of such a large drop made you feel extra panicky. 

Beyond that, you hadn’t realized how much it would bother you not to see the tail of a rope hanging down below you. That was part of the appeal of ascension cables - nothing for the enemy to grab onto below you. Still, the only thing it meant right then was that you would have no chance of saving yourself if you were to slip. 

Finally, a distant but still existent factor was that you didn’t want Fordo to think less of you. He was one of the most competent troopers you had ever met, and you knew part of his tolerance for you was because you did your job well. It hurt to know that your reaction was probably making him think less of you, but the terror raging inside of your chest was too strong to ignore. 

A weird pressure came over you, and it took a moment to realize that it was from Fordo tightening his arm around you. “Stay with me.”

“Wh-?” Why was talking so difficult all of a sudden? You struggled to gather your thoughts, then to push them in the vague direction of your mouth. “What do you mean?”

“You look a little…” Fordo trailed off, dark eyes traveling across your face. “Just stay with me.”

Oh. Fordo thought you were going to faint. "I'm fine, I promise. Just scared." You winced at the admission even as you watched Fordo's expression turn to something you couldn't quite place. Scared? That made you sound like a child. "Nervous, I mean." 

"Don't worry, little one," Fordo assured you. "I'll get you back down as soon as I can." 

Any irritation you may have felt at being called 'little one' was immediately soothed by Fordo's tone. It was almost… gentle. That was strange for him, but appreciated in the present circumstance. Maybe you would just focus on getting through this. You could impress Fordo with your returned abilities when you were back on solid ground. 

"Thank you," was the response you settled for. You opted to close your eyes rather than decide between watching the ceiling, watching the floor, or staring at Fordo.

An abrupt lurch made you gasp and you couldn't help your reaction. You reflexively turned, tucking your face against Fordo's chestplate. Plastoid was never the most comfortable material, but it felt like a bit more shelter. 

Then you came to your senses and tried to pull away."I'm sorry-" 

Fordo's free hand rose to press between your shoulder blades. "Does this help?" 

Between his hand wrapped around you and the one keeping you close, Fordo's grip on you did help. There was only one problem: 

"How are you holding on?" 

Fordo took a moment to answer. When he did, you could hear the smile in his voice. "The ascension cable is attached to my belt." 

"And it's sturdy?" you checked. The question was nonsensical, but you couldn't help it. You weren't leaving anything to chance. 

"Very," he assured you, his hand gently rubbing your back. "That's what they're designed for. The lift mechanism is too powerful for most humanoids to grip while it's active."

“So the only thing keeping us up here right now is a plastoid belt?” 

The shrill question made Fordo pause again, but he was quick to ease your concern. “A belt designed by the GAR to be able to hold myself and any Seppie we might have to retrieve. Including any and every dense-beinged species in the galaxy. Just stay where you are and we’ll be fine.”

You let yourself relax despite the nerve-wracking situation. The slight swaying of the ascension cable was lessening as you got closer to the ground and you couldn’t seem to hear the whir of the mechanism lowering you anymore. 

“I have to admit,” you said, begrudging. “I can hardly feel us moving, it’s so smooth.”

This time, the silence before Fordo’s answer stretched uncomfortably long. Almost long enough that you relinquished your place against his chest plate to look up at him. In fact, the only reason you didn’t was because his hand against the back of your head kept you where you were. 

“...Fordo?” you asked, uncomfortable with the tense quality of the silence.

“Don’t…” Fordo sighed. “I need you to stay calm for me, okay? We… Well, we’re not moving.”

“Not-?” You tried in vain to pull your head away to look, but Fordo’s grip was firm. “Fordo!”

“I’m sorry, just-” He interrupted himself to bite back whatever he had been about to say. “Just promise me you won’t panic, yeah? This is a delicate situation.”

You didn’t have time to reassure him before his hand lifted away. When you glanced around, you realized that he had been telling the truth. You really weren’t moving any more. And when you looked down, you found that you couldn’t have moved much in the first place. If you were any closer to the ground than when you had started, you couldn’t see the difference. 

The ominous creaking of plastoid was the only clue you had that your fingers had started tightening around Fordo’s arm and waist. He didn’t seem concerned about the armor at all, however. No, Fordo’s concern seemed to be for you and you alone. It was apparent on his face, and particularly easy to see in his eyes. 

A soft chime rang through the space between you. By the time you recognized it as a wrist comlink, Fordo had already begun raising his arm to his face. 

“Captain, you activated your distress signal,” a trooper informed him. “What is it?”

“The dual-carry ascension cable is stuck,” Fordo reported.

Needless to say, the laughter from the other end of the line was not comforting. 

Fordo growled something into the comlink, his voice too low and fast for you to catch any individual words. The response came quickly, though you could still hear the amusement in the other trooper’s voice. “Sorry, sir, but Procurement told you it was only a semi-functional prototype.”

“Yeah, then why did they let me take it?” Fordo asked, clearly grumpy. “They had to know I was going to test it.”

“Not with a civvie in tow!”

“Sergeant…” Fordo warned.

Ah, so that was it. Sergeant Chute was Fordo’s second-in-command. He was well-known in the GAR for his careless attitude. Perhaps ‘careless’ was the wrong word. Chute cared intensely about the things that mattered, but everything outside of what it took to stay alive? He simply didn’t have time. Of course Chute would find this situation amusing. 

“Sorry, Captain,” Chute said again. After another moment of quiet, he asked, “What do you want me to do about it?” 

“Get us unstuck.”

“How?” 

Fordo made a low, irritated noise in his throat. “I don’t particularly care how, Chute. Just do it!”

“Okay, let me see what I can figure out.”

The call disconnected and you watched one of the armored figures at ground level walk purposefully away. Without the distraction of eavesdropping on a call, you were left alone with Fordo and the intrusive thoughts of what would happen if the cable stayed stuck… or worse, if it became suddenly unstuck. 

Your fingers tightened on Fordo once more. The grip was strong enough that you watched your knuckles pale under the pressure of your own terror. You weren’t entirely sure why you were holding on so tightly - if the cable were to suddenly unsnag and leave you plummeting toward the ground, Fordo would be utterly unable to help you. 

“I’m sorry I got you into this.”

The blunt, unprompted apology was a jolt to your internal spiral, pulling you from those thoughts and back into the moment. As much as you didn’t appreciate this particular moment, it was better than being inside of your mind. 

“You couldn’t have known,” you assured him. “I don’t really tell people about my fears.”

Fordo shook his head, a wry grin curving his lips. “Not about the heights, but I should have known better than to pull a civilian into testing new gear with me.”

“You didn’t, not really,” you argued, shaken by the implication that Fordo had been callous and careless. “You’ve never treated me like a crash test dummy or anything like that. You just get excited about new gear and you like to show me. And I like that you like to show me. We’re- Well, it makes me feel like we’re… friends.”

“Friends, huh?” Fordo asked, one brow cocked. The satisfied curl of his lips eased something in you, reassuring that he wouldn’t tease you for presuming that your relationship was more than it was in reality. “Yeah, I would say we’re friends.”

You smiled, Fordo’s agreement temporarily pushing back the panic in you. Before you could attempt to articulate your pleasure at hearing that, Fordo’s comlink crackled to life once more. 

“Captain, when you’re ready, we’ve come up with a few solutions for you.”

“Finally,” Fordo complained. “What do we have?” 

“Easiest first,” Chute told him. “Can you use your jetpack?”

“I don’t have it on me.” His brow creased with something like guilt. “I didn’t want the extra weight.”

“What if we brought it up to you?”

“It’s modified for speed, not carrying capacity. It wouldn’t support both of us.”

You let out an involuntary shudder at the idea. Fordo glanced at you, pulled the comlink away, and said, “Don’t worry, we’re not doing that.”

“Could we bring you an unmodified jetpack instead?” Chute asked. 

“We both know the jetpacks aren’t designed for use by multiple people,” Fordo reminded him. “It wouldn’t be able to carry two of us, and I’m not about to sign off on giving a jetpack to a civvie.”

“Suppose not,” Chute agreed. “What if you didn’t go for a sustained jet to the ground? You could feather the engine to slow your drop, then roll when you hit the ground.”

That, somehow, sounded worse than all of the other options. You began to resign yourself to the fact that you were going to live the rest of your life - such as it was - suspended halfway between the floor and ceiling of a hangar bay. 

Fordo’s thumb stroked soothingly over your shoulder. “Do you have any plans that don’t center around using a jetpack, Chute?”

“One: We fire a traditional ascension cable beside where you are. You release your cable and climb down that one instead.”

“Interesting…” Fordo said slowly. “How will you account for the distance? Normal ascension cables won’t be able to reach the ceiling.”

“Good point,” Chute admitted. “I think Procurement said they have an ascension cable that’s only been modified to include extension.”

“So it isn’t meant for two people.”

“No.” The sergeant didn’t sound overly concerned about that fact. “But you don’t need it to ascend, do you? You’ll just be using it to climb down. It should be fine.”

“I don’t like ‘should’,” Fordo told him, voice dark. 

“Look at it this way, Captain,” Chute said, clearly close to laughing again. “What are the odds that two pieces of equipment will malfunction in one day?”

“I don’t want to think about it.” Fordo sighed, a muscle ticcing in his jaw as he stared at the ground and considered your options. “Okay, get the extended cable.”

“I’ll comm you when everything is set up.”

And then the connection cut. Fordo was still in ‘comforting’ mode, soothing you with, “Sorry about all of this. If I had my helmet, you wouldn’t hear the whole conversation and I could bring you a solution without all of the extra fuss. Just a few more minutes, okay? Then we’ll be back on solid ground.”

“I’m worried about that, too,” you told him. “Fordo, I don’t know if I can lower myself down a rope for that long and not lose my grip.”

He frowned at you. “I’m not having you go down the rope alone. Are you joking? You’re getting harnessed to me and I’ll lower both of us down. I’m not careless enough to let someone with a bad fear of heights climb that far on their own.”

Despite the sass and the rude noise he made at the end of the statement, Fordo’s correction left you feeling… known. He cared enough to consider your feelings and abilities when he was making his plans, even when he was operating in a situation that was stressful and time-sensitive.

“Thank you, Fordo,” you told him, gratitude ringing through your voice. “If there’s ever anything you need from me, tell me. You know, in the name of friendship.”

The handsome captain had started watching you intently halfway through your offer, and - though your addition had made him smile - there was still something serious in his expression. “Since we’re stuck up here for as long as it takes my men to find an extended cable, I’m going to take you up on that right away. Will you answer a question for me?”

“A question,” you repeated nervously. “You can ask me anything any time, you know that. Just don’t make it too tricky. Most of my brain is still busy calculating the odds that I’ll die in the next hour.”

“You’ve always been very open with me,” Fordo agreed. “I just wanted the chance to talk with you when my men aren’t wandering around, trying to overhear.”

That piqued your curiosity, and you found your attention pulling away from the ever-present awareness of where you were. “Ask whatever you like.”

Fordo took a breath. Not a quick one, nor particularly deep, but it was telling. It meant that something about his own question made him nervous. Your interest only grew. “You’re always watching me.”

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a question, but then, it didn’t really need to be. You knew what he wanted to know. The only question was how truthful you were going to be in your response. 

“Because I admire you,” you told him frankly. Yeah, the phrasing was old-fashioned, but it was just vague enough for you to figure out how to proceed once you’d seen Fordo’s reaction to it. 

“I- admire you, too,” Fordo said. “You’re smart, and good at your job, and you always ask the right questions when it comes to the gear. You care.”

“Thanks,” you accepted, feeling an uneasy lump in your throat. It should have been nice to hear that you were admired in return, but there was something hollow in it. The only reason you should want to hear something more is if… well, if you felt something… more…

Oh.

Fordo, oblivious to your internal realization, started to move on. “I think I can see Chute. He should have things set up by now. By my estimate, we’ll be ready in-”

“Wait,” you interrupted. “You got the chance to give reasons that you admire me. I want to do the same. You’re excellent at your job and I can tell you care about the men. You always go a little further than you should to complete the mission and it makes me worry, but you’re very good at analyzing the risks, so no one gets hurt. And your love of gear always makes me happy to see. It’s something you’re passionate about, and it makes me feel good that you want to share that passion with me.”

Fordo was staring at you. He didn’t seem inclined to reply and it was starting to make you nervous. You cleared your throat. “But you were saying? How long do you think until we can switch cables?”

“You worry about me?” he asked instead of answering your questions. 

“Of course I worry about you!” You took a breath, attempting to calm down slightly. “You have an incredibly dangerous job and I’m stuck here on Coruscant. I usually don’t know what’s happening with your missions until you get back, unless I hear some of the troopers talking. I worry all of the time. I care about you, Fordo.”

“Captain, we’re getting ready to fire the secondary ascension cable.”

Chute’s interruption should rightfully have been a relief, since it signaled your impending descent from the stuck cable. However, Fordo had seemed to be getting ready to reply to your profession of care for him and you found yourself wishing that Chute had taken a little bit longer to get ready. 

Fordo, of course, snapped immediately into Captain mode. “Okay, when they fire the ascension cable, they’ll need to check that it’s secure. After that’s done, I’ll switch your harness connection to me instead of our cable. Then I’ll swing us over, attach my harness to that cable, and lower us down. Any questions?” 

“Why don’t we attach our harnesses to that cable instead?” you asked. 

“Because the attachments are at the base of the cable,” Fordo explained. “To keep it from immediately snapping closed and hanging uselessly from the ceiling, Chute will keep the other end of it at the floor.”

“And he can’t let go once we’re on the cable?” 

Fordo’s patience was apparently limitless, since your nervous line of questioning didn’t seem to bother him in the least. “There’s really no point. You’ll be attached to me, so it’s not like we’re going to fall. The biggest unknown right now is whether the extra ascension cable is going to get stuck or not. Maybe you feel differently, but I don’t particularly trust any GAR equipment right now. Especially since we don’t know whether Procurement has any other backups for us to use.”

“I don’t know if-” 

Your nervous protests were interrupted by a whoosh, followed by a dull thump as the ascension cable was fired and soared past you to connect with the ceiling. Fordo watched it, then studied the men on the ground with a critical eye.

“It’s time,” he announced after a few moments, turning his attention to you once more. With a steadying touch on your shoulders, he gave a nod. “Just trust me. I’ll have you safely on the ground in a minute or two.”

As hard as you tried to disguise the nervousness, you could feel the way your brow crumpled with a single glance at the duracrete floor so far below. 

Fordo’s fingers tightened, pulling your attention upward. His dark eyes were soothing, as was his low voice. “You can be brave for me. Right?”

You nodded, though it felt jerky, like you weren’t fully in control of the movement. Fordo beamed anyway. “I know you can. Deep breath.”

Before your chest had fully expanded, Fordo had wrapped an arm under yours, muscles flexing while he unclipped your harness from the ascension cable and clipped it to his harness instead. 

“Okay, there’s the tricky part, already done,” he told you. “Now, I need you to hang on as tight as you can for the next part. You’re attached to me and I won’t ever be away from a cable, so we’re not going to fall either way. But a sudden shift of weight can make things more of a challenge. Do you think you can hold on to me?”

“You’re lucky if I ever let you go,” you told him. Your voice was audibly shaking, but Fordo grinned anyway. 

“Thanks for the incentive,” he teased. “Hold on. Swinging over in three… two… one.”

The whole hangar bay seemed to sway sideways and your breath caught. But when it steadied, it seemed more solid than it had the entire time you were on the ill-fated dual ascension cable. The metallic sound of a clip reached you and then you were slowly making your way downward. 

You wanted to speak, to ask how Fordo was doing, but you were terrified to distract him in any way. So you kept silent… until you felt your clammy hands beginning to slip against Fordo’s armor. 

The ground was far closer now - not close enough that you could hold on until you had finally reached it, but close enough that you wouldn’t die if you fell. In fact, you may not even break anything. Of course, that was all assuming that the harness didn’t hold, but your faith in GAR kit had taken a beating that day. 

“Fordo,” you started. Due to your nerves, it came out in a murmur, but he heard you anyway. 

“Almost there, I promise,” he assured you, his voice in a low tone that matched yours. It also made you feel incredibly tingly, especially when he added, “You’re doing so well. I’m proud of you.”

The high from that - and the dizzy, stifled fantasies about other situations in which he might say the same thing - almost glued your lips together, but you managed to pry out, “I’m slipping. I don’t want to throw your balance off. Do you need me to unhook myself? I think I can fall from here and be okay…”

You really didn’t want to fall from there. The reluctance was plain in your voice, but you made the offer anyway. It wouldn’t be fair to risk both of you falling, not when you were clear from the worst of the danger. 

Fordo’s torso lurched in your grip and you looked up at him, alarmed. That alarm turned first to confusion, then to betrayal. Fordo was laughing.

He glanced down at you, still grinning. “You’re so dramatic.”

Before you could give that the reply it deserved, Fordo stopped your descent, gripping the cable over his head with one hand and using the other to wrap around your side. And then you were biting back a shout. The devastating motion had seemed like you were falling, but it was actually the opposite. You were being pulled upward, further and further until you landed with a thump that left you breathless. 

Your new vantage point let you see the way Fordo was gripping the cable between his booted feet, feeding through a bit at a time as you started down once more. It was only when the wolf whistle from the floor reached you that you realized that Fordo had slung you over his shoulder. 

Even worse, he kept only one hand on the rope. The other was holding the back of your leg, keeping it pinned to his chestplate. You were grateful that his grip kept you from slipping off of his shoulder entirely, but you wished his fingers weren’t quite so close to the top of your thigh.

“Are you serious right now?” you demanded, trying to reposition yourself so that your butt wasn’t sticking quite so dramatically upward. 

“Watch it, civvie. You almost gave me a knee to the face.” You immediately stilled, though Fordo didn’t seem overly concerned about the possibility of injury. “Would you rather fall?”

“I thought I would rather do anything than fall,” you muttered. “This is making me rethink the possibilities.”

Fordo had a nice laugh, even if it was at your expense. At the very least, it gave you something else to focus on instead of the troopers on the ground. They seemed highly amused by the way Fordo was transporting you and were happy to shout out additional suggestions that ranged from bad to worse. The only saving grace was that the rest of the trip was swift.

“Shut up, all of you,” Fordo grumbled as his booted feet touched the ground. 

Chute was grinning, you could see it from the gap between Fordo’s chest and arm. “Congratulations on a successful rescue, Captain. You two looked pretty cozy up there, and even more so on the way down.”

“Shouldn’t you be doing something else right now, Sergeant?” Fordo asked sharply.

“I don’t have anywhere to be until fourteen-thirty,” Chute told him, sounding extremely smug about it. 

“Good.” Fordo snatched the handle of the ascension cable from him, pressing a single button and letting the small cylinder soar up until it hit the ceiling with a barely audible thunk. “Then you and the men can work on getting those cables unhooked, respooled, and returned to Procurement.”

Chute wasn’t smiling when Fordo walked away. 

“Can I get down now?” you asked. You were starting to get a little dizzy from the angle of your head, but that wasn’t the full cause of your lightheadedness. If only Fordo would stop stroking his thumb against your skin!

“Of course, just let me get a little further away from those idiots.”

True to his word, Fordo carried you just a little further toward one side of the hangar bay. You could still watch the troopers attempt to figure out the ascension cable conundrum - and did watch, with glee - but you were mostly out of earshot. 

Fordo took a gentle hold of your hips and let you slide down from his shoulder. It was a slow process, since he was clearly taking pains not to frighten you or make you feel like you would fall. Unfortunately, the major effect was that his fingertips dragged over you as you moved further and further down. Nothing inappropriate, of course, but you still felt flustered. 

When you were finally on solid ground once more, you gave Fordo a nod and a half smile. “Thank you, Fordo. I’m glad that worked out as well as it did.”

“Hold on, little one,” Fordo commanded, apparently having sensed that you were going to rush off. “We’re still connected.”

You watched in sheepish interest as he unhooked your harness from his own, Fordo’s strong hands working the clasps in a way that encouraged your intense study. 

“And before you disappear, we should go to the mess.”

That made you blink. “The mess?”

“You’re probably feeling a bit of adrenaline from that, aren’t you?” Lying wasn’t an option, not when Fordo was already giving you a skeptical look. When you nodded, Fordo echoed the motion. “Yeah, I figured. When it starts to leave your system, you’re gonna feel terrible. It’s better if you have something to eat and drink. Let’s go.”

When he put it that way, it made sense. And, you had to admit, you were feeling a little hungry. “Okay.”

Fordo held the door for you, following as soon as you had stepped through. 

“Remind me while we’re eating and I’ll give you my comlink frequency.”

Your head snapped over toward him so quickly that your neck protested. “Why, exactly?”

Fordo watched you evenly, a hint of a grin on his face. “Well, now that I know you worry about me, I want to make sure you can reach me any time you need to.”

“And if you’re in a war zone?” you asked. To your surprise, your voice sounded normal, even when it was coming from a mouth that had suddenly gone dry. What exactly was Fordo trying to do?

“I won’t answer,” he said with a shrug. “But any other time, I’ll pick up and put your nerves at ease. And… you know, even if I’m on-planet, I’ll pick up. I never mind making time for one of my favorite people.”

Your heart seemed to stutter in your chest as you gave Fordo a sidelong glance. He was doing the same thing, both of you trying and utterly failing to be subtle. 

Before the moment could turn awkward, you grinned at him. “You’re going to regret that, Captain. I get very worried…”

Fordo beamed at the way you had bumped him with your shoulder. “Looking forward to it.”

---

Author's Note - This was my first time writing Fordo and I had a bit of trouble with him! Sorry if he's OOC, but I had fun. He just strikes me as being really sincere, even when he's teasing!

I discontinued my taglist, but you can read my writing on @wanderinginksplot-writes or find my masterlist here!

[ptn-imagines]

Fem reader with Langley and I'm giving you full control of it because I have way too many ideas and if I'd try to write them it'd be too much

Also good luck with the new blog!!!

Here you go, anon! Thanks for your patience. If you're looking for NSFW headcanons (with gender-neutral, top!Chief) you can find them here! If you want more, feel free to send in more requests, and don't be afraid to send multiple requests if it's needed!

Placed beneath a cut because, while not explicit, some content can be interpreted as NSFW.

Langley x F!Chief

Both Langley and the Chief are very busy, so they don’t have very much time to spare for each other. The little details are important to them as a result, and they’ve figured out how to incorporate their work into their relationship without it feeling like the relationship had become a chore.

Even something as simple as a mission report can be romantically charged for them. Chief used to write up her reports, but now she chooses to report to Langley on all but the busiest of days – just to feel her girlfriend’s electrifying gaze upon her, to bask in her entrancing smirk and approving nods over a mission well-done. Chief lives for Langley’s words of praise – a merit not won solely by virtue of being her girlfriend, as the spider is not one for dishonest flattery, but one certainly not harmed by the fact.

On breaks, after mission reports, or simply whenever they have free time, it’s not unusual to find the Chief in Langley’s office. Most commonly, the two of them will sit around and bond over Langley’s home-brewed coffee, discussing whatever comes to mind – often it’s work, both of them far too entrenched in their jobs than is perhaps healthy, but sometimes it’s more personal things.

Langley’s coffee is the Chief’s personal nectar. Not only does it have a divine taste, the aroma and flavor of it is so distinct to the coffee Langley makes, and Chief has never been able to replicate it. Even if Langley is called away on urgent business during one of their chats, being left in an office that so clearly belongs to her girlfriend while enveloped in the scent and taste of the coffee is more than enough to set oft-reftless nerves at ease.

These two rarely have time for physical intimacy, but when they do, it happens in one of three places: a broom closet, Langley’s office, or the back seat of a 9th Agency car.

The broom closet is neither of their favorites, and is reserved pretty much solely for when the two of them need to hold and kiss each other, now. It only ever lasted for a few minutes, barely enough to mess up Langley’s tie.

The Chief prefers Langley’s office; it’s a lot more spacious and open, and Langley can always lock the door. If she really needs to hide, there’s always under the desk. Langley doesn’t mind this option, but she doesn’t prefer it, all too aware of security cameras that could expose them.

Langley herself is fond of the 9th Agency’s cars. While Chief gets a little jittery due to the driver, Langley trusts entirely in her subordinate’s abilities to mind their own business, and there’s a partition anyway. She revels in being able to pull Chief onto her lap and kiss them deeply, teasing them with touching – and she’s not ashamed to tell the driver to take a scenic route

Their relationship doesn’t have a defined “when” or “how.” Neither of them is quite sure when they became more than just boss and subordinate, but to both of them it seems like an unimportant detail. The way their relationship worked was right for them, and yeah, it may not look like the traditional idea of romance, but they were happy and in love, so why did it matter?

[ghulehcirice]

Lavender Fog Part 2

[Phantom Ghoul X Reader]

[A/N]; Hey Babes! Thank you for all the love on part one I really wasn’t expecting it all I want this to be as amazing as good as I can make it but let’s go over a few reminders!

TW/CW list; the ghouls are described more in-depth as pack like creatures and are displayed as doing things such as nesting and scenting, as well as purring, there will be talk of harassment and bullying not done by any of our main characters, foul language such as whore, slut and other unsavoury words will be used for reader! Please remember you are none of those things! This fic will incorporate the Possessive!Phantom elements I was aiming for last chapter! Some siblings of sin shit talking the ghouls and calling them inhuman, demons etc.

THIS IS NOT ABOUT THE PEOPLE BEHIND THE MASKS AND I DO NOT WANT THEN TO BE DRAGGED INTO THIS.

I am all for respecting people and ideas. My philosophy with this is that the band was originally established to be completely anonymous I will keep that with everyone. Which does include the ghouls and papas.

On a more silly note I want to include Copia more and I am an autistic and trans Copia truther and he will probably resemble my own expirences!

With that being said I will add any tws that are needed so let’s get started.

Apparently this connection you both shared was a rarity between humans and ghouls, you knew ghouls often get attached to people, thinking back to all the videos you have seen of Omega and Papa Terzo. But it’s not often that that bond happens between a newly summoned ghoul and a regular sibling of sin.

The past few days had been a whirlwind of organizing with you, Copia and Sister Imperator. Quickly you’ve come to learn you can’t spend a whole lot of time away from phantom, Lest you want a ghoul fussing over wheter you’ve eaten, if you’ve been hurt, etc. you had to move into the ghouls den with him, not that you really cared, they have their own kitchens and everything. That’s not even starting on just how comfortable ghoul nests are. That reminds you to swap some of the clothes you had given him to build his nest with so you had clean clothes.

Your past few days had consisted of alot of this, swapping clothes from the nest, getting moved into the den, figuring out what you’re going to do in the clergy now because you can’t do a whole lot with your puppy of a boyfriend (is that what you two are? Cirrus called it being mates but also said it’s not a title to be taken lightly.) It has also been a lot of getting to know Papa on a more personal level as he helped you learn about ghouls. Quickly you’ve come to learn Papas not very different from anyone else in this Abbey. He had a very big love of his rats VERY BIG. This man really loves rats, outside of his papal makeup he struggles with things anyone else does, eye contact, talking, confidence. Can I just emphasize how much this man loves rats and rodent like animals? Same with those old really shity 8 but games. If you asked me last week how big a rodents test were I WOULD NOT have guessed that they do not stop growing. The fact Copia had stuttered out when you first met was going straight into your little box of horrors. Right next to the fucking talking plant from that show.

On days you spend in the papal library, you would often be coddled near to loving suffocation from Phantom. Smell is a large thing for ghouls, so you usually have to spend anywhere between an hour and a half all the way through 4 hours cuddling with a ghoul so you’re properly scented. And no, you can’t move unless it’s absolutely necessary even then you get trailed to and from whatever the important thing was. Once you both are settled further, you need to have a talk about space and boundaries. You know he’s been trying his best to learn between everything. On the nights you spend in eachothers arms he tells you about some ghoul customs, although you can’t hear a whole lot over the… purring? Apparently ghouls do in fact purr when they’re happy and you were not hearing things. Had to have Copia help you realize that one. But he told you about something, the name was in infernal tounge, which is apparently the native tounge in the pit. But it seemed similar to promise rings.

From your understanding, ghouls who were mating would forge a ring of this extremely tough material that’s found in the pit, it’s hard to find and even harder to meld into shape. He told you that if you could find that material and mold it perfectly to fit the chosen partner and return it then you were fated to be together. In turn you told phantom about your newly acquired fact and in turn would tell him about human courting and dating culture, like how in most cultures people also exchange rings, and get their love officiated in often times extravagant ceremonies. And you promised him one day you’d take him on a human date, once he properly learned how to glamour.

It was hard at first, learning how to balance phantom with your learning and the tasks you had quickly picked up around the den. It would turn out most siblings of sin arent brave enough to come down here to do their chores. So you were the go to for any task that had to be done by a human granted you could be pulled from phantoms death grasp long enough to accomplish anything of course leading to more phantom cuddles and scenting. The more you let it happen the nicer it became you had to admit it was pretty nice to have someone caring about you so much that they wanted to coddle you.

But on your next escapade from the ghouls den you quickly learned that ghouls can also have a protective streak. This was abit of a later trip then you would usually be on, if you had to take a guess Terzo might’ve gotten his dick stuck in the eyehole of a ghouls mask… again. Wasn’t your job to question though. On your route to Copias quarters you were cornered by some siblings of sin. They caught you in the old corridors, which was very strange because no one was supposed to have access to this place.

“Can I help you folks?” You muttered out with the confusion clearly lacing your words. The siblings snickered at you cruelly jeering like hyenas when you tried to duck around them only to be stepped infront of by one of them.

“Arent you the ghoul fucker?” The tallest of the flock sneers, confused you step back only to hit the wall “I’m sorry the what?” The siblings just laugh at your confusion, looking to and from one another and oogling you like a circus freak.

“You’re fucking that new ghoul aren’t you? The one that’s replacing the Aether ghoul?” They repeat, watching you with the eyes of a hawk. The two on either side of her chuckle and close in on you, forcing you to curl closer into yourself. Out of the corner of your eye you could’ve sworn you could see a flash of weirdly coloured fog, though it’s probably nothing.

“Im not ‘fucking’ anyone. Why would you ask such a thing?”

“Everyone always knew you were a whore, are you trying to get into papas pants through his ghouls? Or are you just a slut like that? You know none of the ghouls would even care about you right? They’re monsters! They can’t feel any real human emotions, you’re delusional if you think any of them care about you. It will dump you out once it finds something better to have at.”

You flinched away at the siblings cruel words. They didn’t know anything about your bond with phantom and the others. You knew they were nothing like these siblings of sin said. Taking a deep breath, you recentred yourself and just stare at the group. Using all the i don’t give a shit energy you’ve picked up from Mountain to deter them.

They didn’t seem to like this very much because they started stepping closer and closer, if you’re being honest you felt like the nerd kid in any 90s high school setting getting their lunch money taken by the bully jocks. Before they could pick you up by your feet and shake all the coins from your pocket like a rag doll and give you a swirlie in the school toilet, the smallest of the group was shot to the floor in a heap of black, white, and.. lavender? Oh shit.

Phantom must have come to find you, or one of the ghouls seen the sibling bothering you and went to tell your mate. Before you could wrack your brain you were torn away by the scream of the other two siblings who were backing away from the scene. Within an instant papa was out of his quarters, clearly having just woken up given the disheveled look he was in, only having on his Mickey Mouse pyjama pants and being bare chested on top. Wait, does papa have top surgery scars? Oh cool. You could tell papa was a little fruity, now you knew why. Quickly you and Copia worked together to get phantom away from the sibling who didn’t seem to be hurt, looked to be a few cuts from phantoms claws.. he has claws?? The sibling probably had a few bumps and bruises from the fall too.

Papa took the three siblings after you abashedly gave him the file you were supposed to, leaving you to calm down Phantom, Now that everything was calmed down, you quickly realized Phantom didn’t have his mask on which was a surprise because on one hand, the ghouls aren’t supposed to have their masks off anywhere average siblings could see them and two, Phantom hasn’t taken off his mask around you yet, when you two first met he had an old Era 3 mask on. He told you he wasn’t the most comfortable with his face, telling you that he had gotten pretty beaten up during his summoning, and that he had birthmarks he didn’t like. You couldn’t see why, he has Lichtenberg scar righ down his left eye and moving down and across the bridge of his nose the eye it when through was a lighter shade of purple then his right, you found him beautiful but he really didn’t like it, you’re probably gonna have to give him a lot of cuddles tonight.

Once everyone was away from the scene, Phantom stared into your face, breathing heavy. It felt as though everything fell silent and still. Until Phantom ran at you, and picked you up into a bridal carry, without speaking her took you back to the den. When you arrived in the lounge the other ghouls all watched you, with Cirrus and Aurora coming up to check on you. Phantom held you away possessively from the woman, He ignored everyone and took you to your shared room.

You were definitely right about having to give him extra cuddles that night. When he laid you down and got into bed, before dragging you onto his chest and taking your face in his hands.

“Are you okay?” He asks, gently handling your face as he looked it over for scars, in turn you grab his face and kiss his own scars, using your spare hand to guide his hand to feel your heart beat.

“I should be asking you that, bug. You didn’t have to fight them for me. They’re just jealous.” He growls at the mention of the incident, gently nibbling at your hand that held his face. He doesn’t reply but gently shifts you from his chest and goes to his chest of draws, he rustles around and grabs an short for you and puts it on the bed for you before grabbing his own clothes

“I’d be a bad mate if I didn’t.” He leaves to get changed and you get into the shirt, and gently re arrange the nest to be comfortable for a good nap. You can hear Cirrus checking up on phantom and the muttering of Their conversation. Once phantom is back, you curl into his side as phantom purrs and hums the tune of Little Sunshine.

Deep down you think you’ll be just fine with your mate.

—————————————————————————

[A/N; WE DID IT! I hit major writers block with this, I wanna thank you all for the love on Part one, and especially @pinklunarprincess for supporting my posts thus far, you were the first person (from my memory) to encourage me with part one and I thank you! I hope you guys enjoy, I’m too exhausted to beta read right now so if I missed anything PLEASE let me know, I’m working on another little fic idea I’ve had so hopefully something will be out soon<3 love you all and thank you

[hugmekenobi]

S2: The Bad Batch (12)

Chapter Twelve: The Outpost

Gif by @dreamswithghosts

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Some time has passed since everything that happened at Kamino and you and the Batch are trying to figure out your place in the rapidly changing Imperial galaxy. And you're having to do all this whilst figuring out where your relationship with Hunter fits into it.

Chapter Summary: Crosshair's mission for the Empire finalises what he'd feared would happen to him. Meanwhile, you and the Batch take on a tame job yet you find yourself filled with anticipatory dread but you have no sense of why.

Masterlist for S1

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, angst, Lieutenant Nolan, character death, my interpretation of Crosshair's thought process, Force-related anxiety, descriptions of exhaustion, poor attempt at kidnapping, light injury descriptions, reader isn't quite on top of things, briefest instances of innuendo (it's tiny and you might not even notice it but including just in case), me making up some of Hunter's past, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.9K

Author's notes: Told you I hadn't forgotten about Crosshair lol, the poor boy goes through it. Also added my own thing to go with it and thank you to @fuckoffthanos and @arctrooper69 for helping me out with deciding how this should go! Also, @arctrooper69, loved your idea and had to incorporate it somehow but just the way other things panned out, it's a bit on the tamer side but thank you again! Hope you everyone enjoys!

He waited by the shuttle and watched. He watched the group of newly redundant clones walk past. It was the same spiel from the Imperial officer every time- “The Empire thanks you for your years of service and wishes you well on your retirement.” Like that would really make a difference.

“CT-9904?”

Yes, that was who he was to them now. Just a designation, but at least he still had a purpose here, not like the countless others he’d seen be forced out. He turned to face the lieutenant who addressed him.

“You’re out of uniform.”

Right, yes. Can’t be seen to look too different. He put his helmet on and awaited his instructions.

“I’m Lieutenant Nolan, your commanding officer for this mission. We’re heading to the Imperial Depot on Barton-4. High-value cargo stored there has been targeted by local insurgents. We’re to secure it until it’s transferred at week’s end.” Nolan paused as he heard the faint voices of the clones already in the shuttle. He let out an irritated sigh. “Fantastic. More clones.”

“Problem, sir?”

“Yes. I don’t like used equipment.” He boarded the shuttle. “Let’s go.”

Right. ‘Used equipment.’ He couldn’t afford to give that more thought. There was a mission to complete. He grabbed his sniper rifle and stepped onto the ship.

--

Barton-4 was an ice planet. And a hostile one at that. The cold wind howled and worked its way through to his armour and seeped into his bones, and the gusts of snow made it hard to see ahead. It was understandable how things had been going so wrong. Getting caught off guard by native insurgents in a place like this would mean the squadron here would have no chance of defending themselves successfully.

The group made their way into the main cargo haul and Nolan addressed the droids moving the shipments. “Where is your supervisor?”

“You must be our reinforcements.”

They all turned in the direction of the voice who emerged from behind one of the containers.

“We expected you 36 rotations ago. Did you get lost?” The clone asked coolly.

“We work on the Empire’s schedule, trooper, not yours.” Nolan replied.

“It’s Commander, Lieutenant.”

“Well, Commander, your orders were to guard and protect this facility and its cargo, yet this outpost is grossly unguarded.” He followed the clone round the corner. “Where are the rest of your men?”

“Dead.” He replied bluntly before he introduced the clones cowering round a heat lamp. “Hexx, Veetch, and I, we’re all that’s left.”

Their names. He was using their names. Not designations.

“Your failings will be dealt with later.” Nolan scolded. “For now, I am in charge here until the cargo is transported.”

“I feel safer already.” The commander drawled.

“Look here, clone, you speak to me with respect.” Nolan snapped.

“In my experience, respect is something to be earned.”

The Lieutenant sneered. “Yet the Empire assigned you to this desolate rock, were you let the majority of your squad get killed.”

The commander didn’t rise to it. “Tell me, Lieutenant, how many missions have you commanded?”

Meanwhile, he watched the interaction between these two men with hidden interest. He liked that this clone wasn’t backing down so easily.

“That’s what I thought.” The commander said as his question was greeted by silence. He addressed his group behind him. “Boys, why don’t you help the new boss get situated?” As soon as they all left, he focused his attention on the soldier in black armour that had followed the lieutenant in. “You, uh, know the lieutenant well?”

“For about two hours.” He responded.

The commander scoffed. “Two hours too long, I bet.”

He hummed in agreement and was both surprised and grateful to see his fellow clone bring over the heat lamp.

“So, what’d you do to get stuck with this mission?”

“Just lucky, I guess.” He said distantly.

The commander’s laugh turned into a sigh. “The name’s Mayday.” He looked at the clone expectantly.

He debated for a moment. It had been so long since anyone had wanted to know his name and cared enough to ask about it. “Crosshair.” It almost sounded foreign; it had been a long time since he’d had a reason to use it.

“Welcome to The Outpost.” Mayday with faux celebration. He grabbed his helmet and blaster. “I’ll give you the lay of the land.”

--

Nothing was out of the ordinary, the ship flew peacefully through hyperspace, with you all deciding that you were going to heed Cid’s instructions- after all she had said you shouldn’t return if you didn’t scavenge anything from the crash site so you were doing as you were told and the added benefit of not being in her employment worked things out quite nicely.

So, why as you sat on the edge of your bunk, was it that with nothing being out of the norm, you had a deep sense of dread lingering in your heart? This was the worst it had been; you had sensed it creeping in the days since the failed mission from Cid and your sleep had been very limited but you had put the cause down as being the mission and assumed it would go away. It hadn’t. And last night had been the worst. It overwhelmed you and had prevented you from sleeping entirely and the exhaustion you were feeling wasn’t helping matters. A light tapping on your leg forced you out of your head.

You glanced down to see Hunter kneeling in front of you, hand on your knee. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“What’s going on?”

“Didn’t sleep well.” You said briskly, not wanting to create a fuss.

“Something on your mind?” Hunter asked kindly. He could tell you were putting a brave face on but even that couldn’t hide the dark shadows under your eyes and the way you could barely keep your head up.

You shook your head. You didn’t want to bother him with something you couldn’t even put a cause or label on. “Is something happening?” You jutted your head in the direction of the cockpit where the others were gathered.

Hunter let your deflection pass for now. He knew you well enough to know that he couldn’t push you to talk. You would come to him when you needed it.

“Phee got in touch. She’s got a mission for us, but she needs us to get some credits from a contact first.”

“And the catch?” You asked, stifling a yawn.

“Her contact seems to have five possible addresses to keep people guessing his location.”

You nodded slowly. “Honestly was expecting worse.”

Hunter gave you a small smile. “I’d figure I’d keep Omega with me and the rest of you split to check out each of the other addresses?”

“Sounds good, Seargeant.” You said as you stood up to go to the refresher. You splashed some water on your face, and you caught a glimpse of your reflection. You did look pretty rough. Your eyes were puffy and dark circles graced the skin underneath them. Maybe a distraction from this feeling would be a good idea. There wasn’t much you could do about the tiredness expect for push through but even doing a small job might help with forgetting for a little bit.

--

Not only had it sounded like Mayday and his team had been hung out to dry with degraded equipment and poor support all the while protecting cargo the Empire hadn’t deemed necessary to inform them of what exactly it was, but it also hadn’t taken long for the first attack on the depot to occur since he and the rest of them had arrived.

The raiders had made it in and out fast and had caused the deaths of the rest of Mayday’s team and had stolen more cargo. The only saving grace had been that Crosshair had been able to hit one of them as they retreated, and the blood trail led to a system of ice tunnels that had allowed them to slip through undetected for months.

Upon Nolan’s request, he and Mayday had gone in search of the crates, and they started with the ice tunnel.

--

“You sure you’re up for this?” Hunter asked you gently as the others stepped off the ship.

You knew he was coming from a good place, but your sleep-deprived state took it as more of an insult. “Yes.” You said tetchily.

Hunter raised his hands in appeasement. “I’m just checking in.”

You exhaled wearily and ran a hand across your face. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s probably best to just leave me be for the moment.” You lifted your hood and mask up.

Hunter debated pushing the matter further, but he decided to wait until this task was over. “Okay.” He put his helmet on and let you leave the ship first.

--

It turned out that Wrecker had the current address and after he confirmed everything went smoothly, Hunter had said you were all to head back to the ship. You cut down an alley way that was a shortcut but also a means to avoid a public scene since you’d been followed once you’d rounded the corner from one of the contact’s alternative residences. “Please, I’m in no mood to do this today.” You said tiredly as the figure dashed in front of you, halting you in your tracks. You stared the Weequay. “What do you want?”

“How’d you know about the money? I’ve been watching that house, and I heard your comm. Where’d you find him?”

“I don’t have it.” You ignored the crux of his question.

“No, but someone you know does. And you’re going to help us get it.”

You really couldn’t be bothered with a simple kidnapping. If you were going to be threatened today, you’d rather it be a bit more interesting than this. “You know you’re not actually going to get anywhere with that plan, right?”

The Weequay simply sniggered and drew a blaster.

You sighed heavily and reached for your holster. Your entire body was slow. You’d never felt so sluggish.

And that was probably why you didn’t pick up on the ‘us’ or register the person that came from behind and smacked the butt of their blaster across the back of your head.

--

“Alright, let’s get going.” Wrecker said cheerily as he stepped on board and put the case down. He took his helmet off.

Hunter glanced past him. “(Y/N)’s not with you?”

Wrecker shook his head. “Was she supposed to be?”

“She’s not come back yet, and we haven’t heard from her.” Omega informed him, her own troubled face matching Hunter’s.

Hunter reached for his comm and tried for you, but he got no reply. “She wouldn’t go radio silent without being told to.”

“You guys aren’t in a fight, are you?” Wrecker asked.

Hunter shot his brother an irritated look. “No. And even if we were, she knows better than to ignore any of us if we’re checking in.”

“(Y/N), come in.” Omega tried but again was met with no response.

Both Wrecker and Tech also attempted to get in touch with you, but nothing came through.

Hunter started pacing. You wouldn’t ignore all of them. You just wouldn’t, no matter what was happening. The panic was starting to set in now. It was something he rarely did and when he did do it, he didn’t like it, but now he was thinking he should’ve pulled his rank with you and at least made you stay on the ship. He’d known you were in not shape to go out there, even if it was a simple mission, whatever you were going through and the exhaustion you were experiencing would have an effect on anyone.

“Hunter, it’s her.” Tech called over from the cockpit as the ship’s main communication control lit up. Only it wasn’t your voice that came through.

“If you want to see her again, meet us with that lovely case of credits you picked up in 30 minutes.”

“How do we know she’s with you?” Hunter asked, doing his best to keep his voice level.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Her top has half a white skull on it.”

Dammit. Hunter paid no attention to the looks the others gave him. He needed to know more. He needed to know if you were okay. “I want to hear her. For all I know, you just saw her and that was the first thing you noticed.”

The voice chuckled unkindly. “She’s currently… unavailable for speaking. If you want that to be a more permanent state, then by all means, don’t do as we say. But, if you want her back, you better be here.”

“If you’ve hurt her-”

“It’s 20 minutes now. By all means, keep talking and pissing me off if you want her to suffer but I’d suggest you start walking.”

“Wait, but where are-” Omega started to say but the transmission cut out. “How are we supposed to find her?” She addressed the others.

“They used her own comm. I can trace it easily enough.” Tech said calmly as he got to work.

“The rest of us will go over her steps.” Hunter directed before he led the way off the ship.

--

If it wasn’t for the throbbing radiating throughout your skull, you might’ve been grateful for being knocked out. It was the closest thing you’d had to a rest. But the resulting headache and embarrassment at being so easily caught took precedence over any relief at being able to not think about what signals the Force was trying to send you. Now that you were awake, the feeling was back.

“Ah good, you’re up.”

You ignored the voice and took in your surroundings instead. The room was dark, the only light came from the faint glow of a lantern, and you were sitting with your back to a damp wall. Your hands were tied loosely in front of you with a piece of frayed rope. It was the worst attempt at kidnapping you’d ever experienced.

“Don’t worry. We’ve been in touch with your friends. Once we have the money, we’ll let you go.”

Your eyes had adjusted to the dimness, and it was then that you saw the two Weequay men standing by the doorway. You snorted. “Yeah, I’m not all that worried.”

“Oh yeah?” The one that had originally cornered you in the alley said.

“You two really don’t do this a lot, do you?”

“What are you talking about?” The one you didn’t recognise asked.

“Kidnapping people. You two are clearly new to the game.”

“Meaning what?” The first Weequay asked suspiciously.

You released an aggravated huff. You were too tired to do this, but it was your way out of here. “Meaning if you were regulars at this, you wouldn’t have used my comm to send your demands to my team- I’m assuming that’s what you did, right?” Their anxious glance to one another gave you your answer. You continued, “Ideally, you also would tie my hands behind my back, or, at the very least, you would double check the strength of the knot.”

“Check it.” The one you had seen first ordered his companion.

Perfect. As he kneeled down in front of you, you punched him on the underside of his jaw, and he crumbled to the floor. Acting quickly, you broke your hands out of their restraints, and you fired a stun blast from his blaster to the second one, who had been too taken aback by your actions to get his blaster out in time.

You grabbed your stuff and headed for the door, but it was then you heard the faint sound of someone grunting. You were still pretty out of it so as you moved to dodge the blade, your reaction wasn’t quite fast enough. You inhaled sharply as the knife sliced the part of your forearm that wasn’t protected by your armour. It wasn’t much more than a graze, but you could feel blood slowly secreting from the wound and it stung like hell. You whipped around and fired a stun bolt to the half-collapsed figure, and he fell unconscious.

You opened the door to be greeted by three familiar faces. “Oh. Hey, what brings you all here?”

“We were coming to rescue you.” Omega said as she peered around you to see the two knocked out Weequays.

“I appreciate it, kid. I’ll save you something to do next time.” You dug deep for the smile that graced your face as you touched her shoulder. “Thanks for coming after me, guys.” You said to the group.

“Did they hurt you?” Hunter asked urgently as he scanned your body for any obvious injures.

You shook your head. “Nothing major. It was my fault anyway. I completely switched off.”

“Yeah, what even happened?” Wrecker asked you.

“Don’t really wanna relive the humiliation at the moment, Wrecker.” You took a breath. “We good to go?” You asked Hunter who nodded and the four of you walked back to the Marauder.

--

“Tech, would you mind bringing the medkit down here?” You asked as you boarded the ship and sat down on your bunk. “Also, thanks for helping find me.”

“No thanks are necessary. Although, it was a relatively simple mission; I do not understand how this incident occurred in the first place or how you managed to injure yourself.” Tech said frankly as he pulled the medkit down and started to make his way over to you.

He was right but you were embarrassed enough to be so caught off guard like you were and you didn’t need more reminders. “Tech, what about my general demeanour right now makes you think I’m unaware of that fact?” You said through gritted teeth as you tossed your vambrace with a little too much zest judging by the way it smacked off the wall by your bed. You were doing your best to keep it together. You were determined to not let your mood affect the relationships around you.

“I only meant-”

“Tech.” Hunter warned him off calmly as he took to medpack from him. “Just get the ship in the air, okay?”

“Very well.” Tech said with a nod before he turned back for the cockpit.

Omega and Wrecker followed him.

“Do you want-” Hunter started to offer.

“I can do it myself, it’s a really small cut.” You said touchily as you held your hand out for the case.

Hunter didn’t fight you on it and he was prepared to give you space, so he handed it to you. “I’ll be in the cockpit with the others if you need me.” He risked a step forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

You did feel instantly more tranquil after he did that. “I’m sorry.” You uttered quietly as he stepped away.

Hunter tenderly rubbed a thumb across your cheekbone. “Get some rest.”

--

Crosshair and Mayday rounded the corner of the tunnel, and the blood trail came to an end. Both their lights found the dead body of the raider hunkered against the wall.

“He didn’t get far.” Crosshair said wryly.

Mayday kneeled down to examine the body. “Not sure what bothers me more. That he’s wearing armour stolen off my men or that his cohorts just left him here.”

“No point in carrying deadweight.”

Mayday glanced back at Crosshair. “Remind me not to die on your watch.”

Crosshair didn’t pay the comment much mind. He just carried on walking past, but he didn’t get very far as he suddenly came to a complete standstill as he heard the activation click of something hidden in the snowy ground. His best chance was to not move a muscle.

“Pressure mine.” Mayday stated.

“Mm-hmm.” Crosshair nodded.

Mayday brought his light down to examine it. “What were you saying about deadweight?”

“Do you know how to disarm it?”

“I’m not an explosives expert, but since I don’t feel like carrying your body back to the outpost, I guess I’ll give it a shot.” Mayday took off his helmet and put his blaster on the ground as well as his torch- but he kept the light trained on the pressure mine- as he crouched down. He blew away the flakes of snow still covering it. “Hmm. This mine’s a little different than ones I’ve seen before, but I’m pretty sure they’re all the same. Guess we’ll find out soon enough, huh?”

It wasn’t the most comforting of statements for Crosshair to hear, but he’d take any help he could get at this point.

Mayday pulled out his tools and carefully got to work. “I wish I had the proper equipment for this, but the Empire’s ignored all my requests. I’ve learned to improvise though. I guess all clones have had to since the war. Can’t say I ever thought much about the war ending…” he sighed, “… until it did.”

As Crosshair stood still on the mine and waited for Mayday to get him out of it, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander and start thinking about his old squad and how different this mission would be going. Tech would have the suitable equipment. Hunter would’ve known where to step to avoid a situation just like this and he’d have made finding these raiders look easy despite the conditions. And, even if one of them still found themselves in this position, Wrecker would’ve disarmed it with a degree of ease and sophistication people wouldn’t necessarily expect from him. While he would never admit it out loud, he was finding that he missed them. Mayday’s question to him pulled him out of his thoughts.

“What unit were you with?”

That was a question he did not want to answer. “It doesn’t matter.” He just about manged to grind out.

“Humour me. I could use the distraction.”

Well, if he wanted them both to make it out of this, he had to do what Mayday was asking of him. “Clone Force 99.”

“What happened to them?”

“They’re gone.” He replied subduedly. It wasn’t a lie. They were gone and he didn’t know where they had wound up or even if they were all still together and alive. It had been a long time now since that day on the platform on Kamino.

“And here we are, the survivors.” Mayday peered up at Crosshair. “Hmm. Combat troopers stuck babysitting cargo shipments.”

If he let his mind start to drift down that path any more than he already had on occasion, then he’d lose all sense of purpose. He’d lose that purpose he was so sure this Empire would provide. “Mission’s a mission.”

Mayday chuckled sarcastically. “Yeah, I used to say the same thing.” He inspected his work and grabbed his gear before he stood up. “There. That should do it.” As he saw Crosshair start to move, spoke up swiftly. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Don’t pick up your foot yet. Wait until I tell you, then lift it, but real slow like.” He started to walk past him. “I’ll wait around the bend. If I don’t hear a boom, then I’ll know it worked.”

“Glad your confident in your work.”

Mayday put his helmet back on as he continued to walk away. “Oh, I’m confident. I’m just not stupid. Remember, nice and slow. On the count of three. One. Two. Three.”

Crosshair lifted his foot and sighed in relief when there was no explosion.

The two of them made their way out the tunnel into the storm. It was then they saw the light radiating from the raider’s base and they put their plan of attack into action.

--

It had been going well. The enemy bas was destroyed, and they were able to reclaim the cargo. They went down to the area where the cargo had spilled. But it was then when it had started to go wrong as they both discovered what it was they were risking their lives for and what it was Mayday and his men had men had devoted their lives to defending. And… and it wasn’t worth the fight they had put in.

“Gear?” Mayday said aloud as he examined the boxes. “We’ve been risking our lives to recover equipment we could have been wearing this whole time?”

Crosshair nudged a helmet with his foot to expose the design. “It’s not clone trooper gear.” Because why would it be? They were disposable after all.

Mayday picked up a breastplate. “New toys for their shiny new military, and we get the scraps. After all the clones have done, all we’ve sacrificed… We’re good soldiers. We followed orders. And for what?”

Crosshair didn’t have an answer for him. He thought he’d been a good solider but how was that being rewarded? He couldn’t see it. If he had any lingering doubts about where his place in this Empire was, this mission was doing a good job of eradicating them. He, Mayday, and all his fellow clones weren’t valued. They weren’t worth anything to this Empire.

Suddenly, a growing rumbling echoed around them.

“Go!” Mayday ordered as he saw avalanche hurtling towards them from the mountain behind them.

They ran as fast as they could through the deep snow, but they couldn’t outrun it, the best they could do was make it past the rock ahead.

Crosshair didn’t know what happened. One minute both of them were running side by side, and the next Mayday was knocking him past the rock and letting himself get swept up by the snow first which meant he smashed into the rockface.

Crosshair’s helmet was knocked away and the best he could do was take a deep breath as the snow smothered him.

--

Crosshair punched a hand through the top of the snow before his head followed and he breathed in the cold air. His entire body was numb and shivering but he couldn’t dwell on that for too long since he’d caught sight of Mayday’s helmet a few metres ahead. He heaved his way through the waist deep snow towards it and started to desperately dig through to find his companion.

It was after a few moments that Mayday’s face came into view, but his eyes were shut, and his body was limp as Crosshair propped him against the rock behind him. “Mayday? Mayday, wake up!” The faint groan from Mayday’s mouth was enough of an indicator that he was alive… that there was hope for him. “Come on. We have to move.”

Mayday’s eyes flickered open. “Go.” He gasped. “I won’t make it.”

Crosshair didn’t know what possessed him to grab Mayday’s helmet and put it back on his head. All he knew now as he supported Mayday’s body was that it was something he had to do. He had to make sure they both made it back and Mayday would survive. He was going to get them both through the storm.

--

Hunter came back from the cockpit to see everyone else asleep but you. You were perched on the edge of your bunk looking utterly shattered and anything but relaxed. You still had all your gear on, minus the one vambrace you’d taken off to tend to your cut earlier. “Sweetheart, you need to get some sleep.”

“I can’t.” You mumbled, utterly defeated, as you brought your head down to lean against his shoulder.

Hunter rested his head on top of yours. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

“I can’t because I don’t know.” You sighed deeply and pushed your face into the crook of his neck. “I’m just so tired.”

“What can I do?” Hunter asked softly.

“Knock me out until we rendezvous with Phee.” You suggested, only half kidding.

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea, but we can keep it as an option.” Hunter said lightly. “Come on.” He gently nudged you up, ignoring your slight groan of protest. He went to the ground in front of you.

“Okay, but I’m pretty tired, can’t promise I’ll be super enthusiastic.” You attempted levity but your tone was too flat.

“Hush you.” Hunter said with a slight grin. He got to work on taking your boots off before he came to sit next you. He started to delicately take your remaining armour off before he reached for the ends of your first layer. “Arms up.” He prompted tenderly.

Your arms felt heavy, but you did as he asked and he brought it up and over your head, taking care to not let you get caught in the material. “Now what?” You asked drearily.

“Now you lie down and close your eyes.”

“You know, I have tried doing that.” You said drily.

Hunter gave you an imploring look. “Just trust me, okay?”

You did and so you found yourself lying back down.

Hunter enveloped you. He rubbed, light, soothing patterns across your arms and back. He could feel how tense you were. He kept his voice quiet and low to create as restful an environment as he could for you. “I want you to focus on me. Nothing else. Nothing else matters. It’s just you and me here right now. Switch off. Focus on my voice. Focus on my heartbeat. Breathe with me.” He stared taking slow, deep breaths whilst continuing his peaceful touches. “It’s just us. I’m right with you. You don’t have to think about anything else. I love you. I’ll always be right here.”

You did as he asked. His hands were warm- if a little rough- against your arms but years of wielding a blaster would have that effect and you welcomed that feeling. It reminded you of all that he had survived, of what you all had survived and that he was there with you. Deep breaths. He’s here. He’s okay. Everyone’s okay. Shut it off. You thought to yourself. You mirrored his breathing and continued to listen to his words.

As the minutes grew longer and you continued to listen to him, you felt yourself start to relax into him. Your eyes grew heavy, and it was easier to keep them shut this time. How’d you know how to do this so well?

“Growing up with enhanced senses had its difficulties. I had to learn how to manage it.” He felt you nuzzle closer to him, and a deep sigh left your body. “There you go” He murmured as he kept caressing your body. “Keep breathing with me.”

Things felt easier now as you focused on him, on his scent, on the feeling of his hands on your body, on his breathing. And the last thing you remembered was you telling him you loved him and the kiss to the top of your head from him before you drifted off.

--

Crosshair staggered onto the main platform of the outpost and fell to his knees. He tried to be as gentle as he could when it came to putting Mayday down.

“About time you two returned.” Nolan said harshly as he approached the two men.

“He-” Crosshair broke off with an exhausted pant before he removed Mayday’s helmet. “He needs a medic.”

Nolan ignored him. “I see you didn’t retrieve the crates, which means you’ve failed your mission.”

How could that be all he was concerned about? “Did you hear what I said? Help him!” Crosshair begged as he could feel the pain and weariness creeping into his own body, but Mayday needed the help first. He had to be saved.

“Certainly not. That would be a waste of the Empire’s resources.”

“He’ll- He’ll die.” Did they truly not care? And it was then he heard one last pained cough from Mayday before his eyes shut and he fell silent. Crosshair searched for a pulse but found none. No. No. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“He served his purpose as a soldier of the Empire.” Nolan said unsympathetically.

Crosshair could feel white hot anger start to rise within him. “You- You could have saved him!”

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me. He is expendable, as are you.”

And there it was. Confirmation of the doubt he had been trying so hard to deny. Hunter had been right. They were only ever numbers.

“And if you speak to me again with such disrespect, I’ll see to it you meet a similar fate, clone.” Nolan continued disdainfully.

Crosshair caught the sight of the shadow of one of the ice vultures. He knew they were coming for Mayday. But it shouldn’t be here for him.

“Now, leave him and get back to work… while you’re still useful.” Nolan started to walk back to the shuttle.

Crosshair looked up to the sky and started at the circling bird. He’d thought he’d found a way to survive on his own too but that had changed. He was supposed to have this incredible ability to see things others couldn’t. How had he been so blind for so long? Well, no more. He’d had enough. He wasn’t concerned about the consequences he would face with what he was about to do. All he knew was that he wouldn’t give this Empire anything more.

He got unsteadily got to his feet and trained his blaster on the retreating back on Lieutenant Nolan. “Lieutenant.” He didn’t hesitate and the shot went straight through Nolan’s chest as soon as he turned around. It was after that final act that he finally let the exhaustion and agony take him and his sight went dark.

--

You awoke with a start and sat up. Things had been going well but that was a new development. You rested a hand on your chest as you felt your heart pounding. You shivered. You were cold, both outwardly and inwardly. There was a deep chill in your veins that left you feeling frozen and unsettled. You took a few deep breaths to settle yourself.

“What’s wrong?” Hunter rasped; his voice still thick with sleep as he sat up alongside you and laid his hand on your back.

“I don’t know.” You murmured uneasily as you fiddled with the bandage on your arm. “Something woke me up. There was this cold shadow and all I could feel was fear and pain, but I couldn’t see what from or who.”

“It was just a bad dream.” Hunter comforted. He kissed the back of your shoulder. “Come on, you should try to get back to sleep.”

“Right… a bad dream.” You whispered distantly as you let him lay you back down. Whatever it was that had woken you up, it felt real, it wasn’t just a bad dream, you were experiencing what someone else was going through but you didn’t have a face to put to the feeling and you didn’t know what it could be. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on the feeling of Hunter’s arm draped over you, holding you close, but you couldn't shake the feeling like there was something more to what just happened and so sleep didn’t easily come this time around.

--

Crosshair woozily came around to the sound of equipment beeping. He didn’t recognise where he was, and it was then he heard the muffled sound of someone addressing him.

“Hello, CT-9904. Or do you prefer, Crosshair?”

His name. She was using his name. The woman that was speaking to him seemed to be some kind of doctor. “Where am I?” He asked wearily.

“I’m holding you for observation. Once you’ve healed, the doctor will come for you.”

She was holding a needle to his neck, yet she wasn’t the primary medic? “Who- Who are you?”

“Remain calm. Cooperate and you might survive.” That was all he registered before the needle pierced his skin and he fell into darkness once more.

Next Chapter>

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[cryptidghostgirl]

Heyy :)))

any writing tips for beginners?

First off, can I just say, it is genuinely such an honor to get asked this question? It makes me so happy.

The biggest thing I would recommend for beginners is just to write. The more you write, the more used to it you get. I know that doesn't sound like very productive advice, but it is the truth. I have been writing fics since I was twelve and I am twenty one now. My first fics were shit. One of my earliest ones (its a BSD Akutagawa x Reader fic called Project X I started when the show first came out back in 2016 and finished in 2022 that is still up on my wattpad, which is linked in my pinned post, if you want proof I am not lying) is genuine shit, but I put a lot of passion and a lot of time into it (to the point that if you read the book, you watch me learn how to write). It was the practice and time spent that did the trick. So write and write and write. You don't have to post it anywhere or show it to anyone until you feel like you are ready (or at all). The more you do it, the more everything will fall into place.

The second thing I would recommend is to write the stories that you want to read, whether fanfiction or not. You have to be invested in whatever you're making in order for it to work. If you don't care, you wont put the effort in. You wont take the time for it. The only reason I started writing in the first place was because I would read fic after fic and I never saw anyone else putting the ideas I had on to paper (this actually lead to me starting a mini trend in the BSD fic community on wattpad lol). This will also help, if you are putting your work out into the world in some way, with the idea of reward. Whether through notes or readers or whatever, as long as you like what you are writing and you want to read what you are making, it is worth it and it is enough.

Third is to read. One of the ways I developed my own writing style was by taking note of the things I liked about other peoples writing styles (doesn't matter whom. I take a lot of the way I write from poets and authors like Annie Dillard and Terry Pratchett as well as other fic writers). So much of writing is about aesthetics and personal preference. Once I knew what I defined as 'good writing,' I could figure out how to morph my own work into something I deemed 'good.' This also counts for reading the things you yourself have written. I go back and re-read and edit my own work all the fucking time, both out of an enjoyment for the stories I create and in an effort to make them better. The best thing you can do is to read your work out loud. Listen to what you change when you read it out loud, what sounds odd or uncomfortable, where there are gaps. It really helped me when I first started writing fics almost ten years ago, and it still helps me now.

This is a weird one, but when you're writing about emotions, try to feel the emotion yourself. Think about what something like fear does to a person. Picture the situation you are writing and take the time to think about the ways in which you personally, or your character, would react to it. Writing reactions, body movements, things like that, has always been the most difficult for me, especially when its in-between dialogue and not just big blocks of text. Taking a moment and closing my eyes, feeling the shiver down my spine or the burst of sudden joy, really helps pin down the ideas and figure out how to describe them.

Also, if you know other languages, think about the things you like about the way those function and how you can incorporate that into your work. A lot of the way I structure sentences comes from ancient Greek, for example, with my usage of participles and timing. It doesn't have to be an ancient language though! And it doesn't even really have to be another language. All that matters is that you are actively thinking about the way the words interact with one another and what is pleasing to you. English is such a flexible and fun thing, there is so much meaning in every word and if you want to, it can be really fun to play around with. (I am a philologist. I am sorry for the little rant.)

That being said, it is important that you understand the grammar of the language you are writing in. This might just be a personal thing, but incorrect grammar tends to really bug me. Once you know the rules, they are easier to follow and it makes a huge difference. Also, incorporating techniques like varied sentence length/structure and literary devices like metaphor, allusion, ekphrasis, and simile can really make a piece more enjoyable for a perspective reader (whether the reader is yourself or someone else.)

Write what you know, write what you love, write what you want, write what you need, write. Don't worry about it being 'good enough,' if it is on the paper it is good enough. The hardest part is starting. Once you've got that under your belt, anything is possible.

Now that this post is almost excessively long, I am gonna make myself stop. I really hope at least some of this made sense and that you find it helpful.

<3 <3

[apompkwrites]

the runaway kingscholar || leona kingscholar

masterlist characters: n/a (reader-centric) genre: angst contains: kingscholar brothers are only mentioned :((, ocs, sort of filler? just to introduce characters and new arc summary: the runaway kingscholar prince/ss escapes their home and runs away to a place they hope to call "paradise". notes: eeee i've been waiting to get into this part of the fic!!! i've wanted to incorporate more lion king references since i made it so (name) runs away. originally i was gonna base the new characters on timon and pumba but i figured they would've stayed near the kingscholars. maybe attendants? idk parts: [og post] | [the lesser kingscholar (1)] | [the broken kingscholar (2)] | [the two kingscholars (2.5)] | [the runaway kingscholar (3)] | [the outland kingscholar (4)]

you had been walking for... only the great seven knew how long. you were lucky you made it so far on the first day, seeing as how the spots nearest to your old home were swarmed with guards and attendants.

you could hear rumors in the streets begin to spread. words of the youngest kingscholar running away from home remained the same but the reason for your departure was always different.

"they've been exiled."

"they've been sent away to another country."

"they've runaway with a lover." that was always a weird one to hear.

but never once did the people believe it was the fault of anyone within the castle. no, it was always you. you were always at fault. never the elders because the elders were oh so wise and thoughtful. they only wanted what was best for you, right?

what a load of shit.

deep down, you hated what you were doing. you hated the idea that you were leaving your home all because of some stupid elders' words.

how weak.

you trudged on, hiding your face with a spare sheet you had taken from your makeshift bag. it wasn't much and by the gods did it make the savannah so much hotter, but it was worth it. the people you passed ignored you, most likely chalking you up to being a beggar on the streets.

your feet ached by the time you get to the edge of your kingdom's border. this was your goal and thank the gods you made it before anyone caught you.

you had been here maybe once before, having snuck away from leona and falena's sides in favor of "more adventure" as your younger self loved to call it. you had been here once but you remembered the wondrous things you had seen in that hour.

your favorite were the stalls. the elders dictated who could have a stall and what they could sell. and their rule didn't stop there. when it came to you and your brothers, if you were to go to town supervised, you were always told which stalls were "fit for royal taste" or whatever. they were okay foods but the stalls closer to the outskirts? they were treasures compared to the ones you were allowed to eat.

maybe because they were run by families whose passion always lay in the products they sold. regardless, you were going to miss this. you were going to miss them.

with your bag now stuffed with food for the last half of your trek, you were set.

see, the kingscholar rule only stretched so far in the savannah. they weren't all-seeing, so of course they couldn't spread themselves too thin to try and conquer the entirety of the sunset savanna. so, their rule only extended so far.

your father always told to never leave the confines of the kingdom's borders. perhaps it was because if you stayed there, he would always be there to protect you. well, you saw how that got him when he became too ill to rule. now falena takes his place, still spouting the same mantra of staying within the borders.

but, if you left, there would be no way for him to track you down using guards, right? as long as you made it out, you wouldn't have to worry about being dragged back to the kingdom.

what you didn't account for was the fact that not many places were close to the kingscholar border. these smaller towns that refused to be under the kingscholar name drifted away, most likely in fear of being conquered too easily.

they created a space your father dubbed "the outlands" as your father loved to keep a piece of the great seven alive. this space, as he warned you and your brothers, was a barren wasteland with no hint of life for miles on end.

"never go into the outlands," your father always warned. he wasn't here to stop you though, was he?

"--ey awake?" a voice broke through the haze that clouded your mind. it was soft and squeaky, much like your young nephew's.

"don't crowd them, nuru," another voice warned. this one was calming, a type of voice you had long forgotten. what was it exactly? you could only describe it as a...

"but ma!" the first voice, nuru, seemed to whine. "i just wanna make sure! 'ts not like 'm gonna eat 'em or anythin'..."

"of course, dear," the other voice hums softly, a light chuckle rumbling in their chest. it was only then that your vision cleared, allowing you to stare up at the pitch black sky speckled with white stars.

"ngh..." you groaned under your breath as a face popped into your view.

he had a bright toothy grin. that was what first caught your attention. his smile truly rivaled that of your young nephew. curly black hair framed his face and feathers poked out like he had gone rustling through a bird's nest. thrown over his shoulders was an oversized coat with fluff decorating the top of it, covering his neck and tickling his cheeks.

"ma!" he gasped, his eyes seeming to sparkle as his grin only widened. "they're awake!"

"i just told you to not crowd them," the other voice sighed as they, or rather she, came into view.

she had the same black hair as nuru, which was to be expected. although, it was much longer than his, falling to her back into two separate parts like tails. she had a similar fluffy coat over shoulders, only it fell just beneath them, allowing the two claw-like scars to be shown. the major difference between the woman and nuru was the large pair of wings that were outstretched behind her.

"up you go," she huffed as she pulled you to sit up. her hand slid against your back as she brushed away the dust and sand clinging to your clothes. "it isn't good to be laying in the sand like that, little cub."

"...huh?" it's not like it was your choice to begin with.

"a little lion like you out here's just asking for trouble," the woman pointed out before helping you up to your feet. "we don't get a lot of you around here."

"...what's that supposed to mean?" you slapped your hands over your mouth. oh gods, you didn't mean to say that out loud! your eyes shot up to look at the woman, your body trembling as you began to think. think about what would happen. think about the pain you felt that last day before you left. think about the pain you would have felt if--

"relax," she let out a laugh, slapping the space between your shoulders. "many lion beastmen don't come out here 's all! they're either in the kingscholar territory or off in the dens."

"the... dens?"

"ooh! ooh! i got it! ma, can i tell 'em?" nuru suddenly but in, ducking under his mother's wing.

"go ahead."

"the dens are off that way!" nuru explained, pointing into the distance. wouldn't help you much considering there was no real way for you to go that way with your current resources (however much you had left). "lotsa lion beastmen didn't wanna be with the kingscholar's so they left and made their own village!"

"...ah, okay," you merely nodded. you vaguely remembered this from your history lessons.

"so, you're not from there, right?" nuru pressed, tilting his head. "so... you're from kingscholar territory!"

"...what's it to you?" once again you slapped your hands against your lips.

"you're fine, you're fine," the woman cooed, reaching forward to move your hands away from your mouth. "you've got survival instinct, that's all. in fact, that's something you want out where we found you."

"and you found me... in the outlands?"

"where else?" she laughed once more, shaking her head. after a few seconds, she placed her hand against the small of your back. "well, we can save all of our interrogating when we get home. you mind heading with us to our village?"

you didn't respond at first, a skeptical look crossing your face as you stared back at the woman. she blinked before a soft smile appeared on her lips. she offered out her hand for you to shake, her wings stretching behind her as if she were putting them out on display.

"ah, right. you don't even know my name. i'm atiena."

mwezi miji was what atiena had brought you to. according to her, much like the dens, it had a variety of names depending on who you asked and where you were. you very quickly learned that this information was not spread throughout the kingscholar territory.

because you didn't even know any of these places existed beyond the outlands.

the village itself was small but homey. the townsfolk, upon seeing the lion ears nestled in your hair, seemed to dart away and rush back into their homes.

"oh, don't take it personally for now," atiena hummed as she noticed your ears flatten against your head. she lightly pushed nuru, nodding towards a house you had passed. "we're just not too used to seeing a lion beastman here like i said before. given you're a stranger as well, it doesn't really help your cause."

"right..." you huffed in response as atiena continued to lead you through the streets of the village. she didn't initiate any conversation aside from the occasional informative explanation about the village. it wasn't until you reached a small hut that was located near the middle of the village did she finally speak again.

"i won't be long. just sit down and wait for me, okay little cub?" before you could even open your mouth to answer, atiena turned away and left you alone in the room.

you didn't know how long you sat in that dark room, fiddling with the sheets that covered your body like a shawl. you only knew that when atiena came back in the room, your heart sank with her next words.

"so, what's a kingscholar doing all the way out here?"

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