#Or my friends and I have the suggestion of making Blue sign to Red during romantic moments instead and I think that's like 10× better

[rina-writes]

Blind Date

Summary:  You’re an up-and-coming influencer that is trying to grow your small, but loyal fanbase.  You decide to do a blind date game on a popular YouTube channel only to find out that your date is Jack Harlow.

Warnings: Fem!reader, Influencer!reader, kissing, fluff, suggestive towards the end

A/N: This has been in my drafts for MONTHS but I am releasing it now kinda as a farewell since I’m really out of it. I don’t feel as into writing and I need a proper break. But I didn’t want to just disappear again so, here’s a parting gift. Till next time ❤️

You slowly removed the satin blindfold from around your eyes.  The fabric was long and slippery making it difficult to handle. You found yourself entangling your fingers in the red ribbon the faster you tried to remove it.  Succeeding at last, you wrapped it around your wrist and opened your eyes to look at your mystery date.  Your mouth fell open, the edges curving into a smile.

“Jack?!” You laughed softly.

“Y/n?” Jack asked, he was still removing his black satin blindfold, but he recognized your voice instantly.

There was some shuffling and murmurs from the production crew coming from the far right of where you two were sitting. The producer who was off-camera and cinematically shrouded in darkness cleared their throat before asking,

“Wait...you two know each other?” 

Jack chuckled, placing the ribbon in his lap and turned toward the producer.  “Yeah, one of her friends is dating mine.  We actually run in the same circle when she’s in Atlanta or I’m in LA.”

“Uh, well...” The producer stammered.  “The whole concept of this is supposed to be influencers going on blind dates with celebrities.  I didn’t know you both actually knew each other. Who set this up?”

The last question was more of a whisper and directed at their production assistant. Nervousness began to bubble in your stomach as you could see the dark figures of the staff members buzzing around.

“Is this going to be a problem?” You asked, trying not to look disappointed.  You had seen versions of this show before and the questions were juicy.  You couldn’t believe Jack would sign up for something like this.  You had no reputation to uphold, but he was very particular about interviews and statements. This felt like a once in a lifetime opportunity to see Jack thinking of his feet in person. You didn’t want to lose it.

The producer froze for a moment.  There was some whispering from the producer’s assistant which made your cheeks warm. You heard the producer softly respond with a high-pitched, “Oh.”  Jack glanced your way at the sound and gave you the quickest, tiniest wink.  You were pretty sure only you could have seen it. It made you stare at him for a moment and really take him in. 

Jack was going for a different kind of look today.  He was wearing a black leather jacket, a tight white t-shirt that seemed to be holding on for dear life as it clung to his chest and dark jeans that fit him loose at the waist. His curls were styled to give him that boy next door look, but no one could mistake that icy blue gaze and devilish smirk for anything, but the player Jack Harlow was.

Your attention was grasped by the producer announcing that you would continue with the interview. You smiled, already knowing what the assistant had whispered to the producer without having to ask.  The producer was probably one of the few people who didn’t know that you and Jack Harlow were a hot topic these days.

A couple of weeks earlier, a picture was snapped of you waiting for Jack after one of his concerts during a festival.  The image that went viral was of you wearing one of Jack’s merch t-shirts that was a little too small and Jack hugging you tightly with his hands pressing into your lower back.  

The background of the picture was that you had a wardrobe malfunction. The strappy purple two piece you were wearing from a sponsor turned out to be as sturdy as a house of made straw. Running the risk of flashing everyone, you messaged a group chat with all your friends to send an SOS. To your surprise, it was Jack’s brother, Clay, who had saved the day with a merch shirt.

It was a little small, but it was much better than the ripped outfit you had been holding to your chest. To thank Clay, you decided to help him out by selling merch and doing a few other odd tasks.  One of those tasks was taking a case of water to Jack’s stage for Jack and the Homies to drink after their set.  The day was hot and long which meant all the boys were extremely thirsty.   When you handed Jack a frosty ice cold bottle of water, he hugged you tightly without hesitation.  

Of course, that’s when a fan took a picture and the image started a bunch of rumors and shipping wars.  Even if the producer didn’t know this was a setup, you were 100% sure that was the reason you were currently sitting across from Jack. 

You just weren’t sure who orchestrated it. And, more importantly, how they convinced Jack “I Like to Keep My Life Private” Harlow to do this. However, you wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Shall we get started then?” Jack asked, shifting in his seat so, he could face you.

“Do you want to go first?” You asked.

“No please, ladies first.” Jack insisted, smirking at you. “I’m a gentleman, after all.”  

You shook your head with a slight eye roll.  You picked up the first card from the deck.  You scanned it quickly, your eyebrows raising as you let out a laugh.  You looked toward the script writers and producers that were sitting in a line. Only their silhouettes visible from where you sat. 

“Oh damn, we’re coming in hot.” You remarked, mostly hamming it up for the camera. If you wanted to grow your fanbase, you needed to be engaging.  

You glanced at Jack who’s lips were twitching into a smile.  You saw his right leg bouncing up and down in anticipation.  You glanced back down at the card and read it out loud.  “Truth: When was your last date and how did it go?”

Jack closed his eyes for a second too long for it to be considered a blink.  You knew he was debating whether or not he should reveal something about himself so, you quickly added, “Tell the truth.”  You turned the card around and pointed at the word Truth to emphasize your point.

“Well, technically right now I am on a date.” A smirk spread on Jack’s lips as he saw the annoyance in your eyes. “So, five seconds ago.”

“No, no no.” You shook your finger at him.  “This date doesn’t count.”

“It’s a real date though.” Jack said, adjusting his jacket by pulling it closer to him. “I’m actually trying to impress right now.”

“Okay fine...” You chose your words carefully. “When was your last date with someone other than me and how did it go?”

Jack bit his lower lip.  You could see in his eyes that he realized you wouldn’t let it go.  He had to answer so, he figured he would just tell the truth.

“Six months ago.” Jack sighed. “It uh, didn’t go super well. We had zero things to talk about and she spent half the time on her phone. I’m really into eye contact so, that was a big no for me.”

Jack held your gaze as if  highlighting the fact that you were great at meeting his eyes.  You smiled a bit, letting your follow up question roll off your tongue with ease, not even thinking of the implications behind it. 

“You still smashed though, right?”

“Yeah...” Jack said a little too quickly before following up with, “Hell yeah.”

Your laughs harmonized loudly and obnoxiously. You high fived each other before you placed the card face down next to the pile to create a stack of discarded cards. For a second, you forgot that you were doing a video and there was a room full of people watching you.  This was the kind of dumb conversation you and Jack would have while sitting on someone’s couch, chopping it up over a plate of food.  

Jack leaned over and grabbed the next card.  He nodded a bit, grinning while looking up at you. “I always wondered this.” 

“Oh no...” You looked at the camera with wide eyes, remembering your audience this time.

“Truth: How would you rate me on a scale of 1 to 10?”

“What am I rating?” You asked, buying time because you didn’t know what to say.

Jack looked at you like you were an idiot. He leaned in closer as if your misunderstanding was because you were hard of hearing. “Me, dummy. How do you rate me?”

“Like for what? Looks, personality, compatibility...” You chewed on your lip as you tried to think of a number for each of the categories you were listing. Was there even a difference?

“Everything!” Jack shrugged. “The whole package, how do you rate me?”

“That’s hard...” You groaned, shaking your head from side to side.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine...how would you rate me as a potential boyfriend, how’s that?”

You blushed a bit, not expecting such a forward question. You hesitated and Jack let out another sigh. 

He broke the silence by saying, “Okay, how about this? I’ll rate you as how good of a girlfriend you would be and you rate me.   We’ll say it at the same time. Okay? 1...2...3...”

“8.5!” You shouted.

“10.” Jack shouted at the same time.

“10?” You said, the word coming out breathy.  “You think I’m a 10? That’s like perfect right?! No one is perfect, Jack.”

“I’m not saying you’re perfect,” Jack smirked. “I’m just saying you could be perfect for me.  I mean we vibe together. We have a lot of the same friends. You’re pretty cute.”

“I make eye contact.” You added in a teasing voice.

“Exactly!” Jack smirked.  He blinked a couple times. He smacked his lips together and gave you a slow nod. “So, I’m an 8.5 huh?”

You covered your face with your hands. “I feel like a jerk now.”

“Why not a 10? You don’t think I’m cute or something?” Jack asked, tapping the card on the table. He was enjoying being on this side where he got to ask the questions instead of answering them. He also loved teasing you. It was so easy: just pursuing his lips or giving a long stare would make you cover your face in embarrassment. He was having the time of his life now.

You shook your head. “You’re very cute. And tall. And talented.  I just don’t think you’re at the stage of your life where you want to settle down, you know? I’m starting in my career so, I need consistency. Not flings.”

Jack let out a low whistle.  Your cheeks heatedz a little realizing how serious your answer was. You felt silly and worried that he would read more into it than you intended.  You just let it slip off your tongue without thinking. You had been doing that a lot today.

“Damn...you’re probably right.” Jack nodded in agreement. “I mean I can’t argue with that. But, you should give me some time then. Maybe I’ll show you that I can be that guy.”

You nodded and gave him a toothy grin.  Jack seemed pleased with the response so he put the card in a discard pile of his own.  You picked up the next card and chuckled softly.

“Ooooh, you’re gonna get in trouble.” You teased. “Dare: Let me see the last picture you saved of somebody else.”

Jack’s eyes widened as he let out a dry cough. “Uhm...I think my phone died.”

“Liar!” You yelled, tossing the card at him.  “Don’t chicken out, Harlow.  Gimme.”

You extended a hand toward him and clenched it a couple times to signal that you wanted it. Jack groaned loudly and dug into his back pocket.  He pulled out the phone and unlocked it.  He opened the photos app and smiled a bit before handing it to you.

“Okay, it’s a good one.” Jack said, almost sounding relieved.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” You took the phone and couldn’t contain your smile. “Aww, it’s his mommy. Oh she looks stunning.”

“She was going to a wedding with my dad and she dressed up for it. I figured I would use it for her Mother’s Day post this year.”

“That’s really sweet, Jack.  I won’t spoil it then.” You clutched the phone to your chest and smiled at the camera. “You’ll have to follow him on Instagram to see it on Mother’s Day. But, now, you have to post it.”

You said the last sentence to Jack as you handed him back his phone. Jack tucked it away quickly into his back pocket making you laugh.  You were going to make a joke about the speed of his actions, but he moved on the next card before you could.

“Ah, pay back is so sweet.” Jack grinned. “Dare: Let me see the last picture you saved of yourself. Booty shots and all.”

“It does not say that last part.” You said, reaching over to grab the card. Jack held it to his chest, leaning back so you couldn’t take it from him. You sat back in your seat and then dug in your pocket for your phone.  You were moving slowly as you tried to remember the last photo you had taken. Of course, all the risqué photos were coming to mind, but you couldn’t remember when they were captured. You checked your photos app and gasped when you saw your most recent photo.

“Uh, uh. NO.”  You said, going to delete it.

“No cheating!” Jack said.  He leveraged his long arms to pluck the phone from your fingers and look at the picture.  He laughed loudly, his head falling back.  “Oh this is precious. It’s a photo of her at her desk with a mountain of snacks everywhere.”

“It’s not precious. I look gross.” You tried to take your phone back, but Jack pivoted so he could keep it away from you while still holding it to his eye level.

“You do not. You look adorable.  A little tired though.” There was some concern in his voice that made your heart skip a beat.  

“It was after an all-nighter. I didn’t leave the room for anything, but bathroom breaks. We were launching a new project and it was all hands on deck. I don’t have a big team, so I still do 70% of the work load.” You explained.

Jack shook his head. “You should take better care of yourself, Y/n.  It’s not good for you, mamas.”

You blushed softly at the tenderness in his tone. He seemed legitimately worried. You smiled, taking your phone back from him. This time less forcefully. Jack handed it back to you with ease.  You put your phone away and then reached for the next card.  You turned your head toward the staff, mouth hanging open.

“Okay, now y’all are getting wild.” You said.  “Can we refuse to do these?”

There was some silence and Jack looked between you and the staff patiently. The producer then said, “Of course, but you have to read it out loud first.”

“I don’t think he’s going to want to do it.” You commented, not able to look at Jack.  You stared at the card and then read it out loud, “Dare: Kiss your date.”

Jack’s eyes went wide. It was the first time you got a big reaction out of him all night.  His mouth opened and closed several times, trying to read your face. You, on the other hand, revealed nothing on your features and waited for him to respond.  A part of you wanted to kiss him, but another part of you worried that he didn’t want to which would result in you getting rejected in front of millions of people.

“I’m down if you’re down.” Jack said, finally.  “Just a little peck, right?”

“Yeah...” You swallowed. “I’m down.”

Jack leaned forward over the table just as you stood up.  “Oh.” You both said in unison.  You walked around to stand next to his chair.  Jack looked up at you, a grin appearing instantly on his face.

“I’m not going to stand and kiss you.” Jack gestured to the cameras behind you. “It’s going to looked weird since the cameras were set for us sitting.”

“I’m not going to point my butt at the camera, Jack!” You said, turning back to see where it was angled. “You have to stand up because I’m not bending over.”

Jack shrugged. “You don’t have a choice. The camera is going to cut off our heads and everyone is going to say it’s fake.  Go back to your seat and lean over the table like a normal blind date.”

“But, it’s uncomfortable...” You groaned.

Jack rolled his eyes. “What are you gonna do then?”

Before you could think twice, you sat down on his lap. Jack’s hands instinctually wrapped around your waist, staying firm by your stomach.  Your feet were dangling and positioned along with your chest toward the camera while your face was turned toward Jack.  He was looking down at you through his lashes and you were looking up at him through yours. You closed the space between you two and met his lips in a soft, sensual peck. You let your lips gently press and pull his bottom lip, the tiniest groan leaving Jack in response. He froze, just staring at you, his eyes clouded with lust and wanting more.  You laughed nervously, turning at the camera.  Your smile was getting wider with embarrassment. You could feel Jack’s gaze still fixated on your side profile and it made goose bumps tickle the back of your neck.

“Well then...” You said, motioned to get off his lap. Jack held you into place, leaning forward to grab the next card.  You frowned at him. “I can’t stay here for the rest of the game.”

“Why not?” Jack asked bringing the card closer to his face for him to read.  “Truth:...”

“Jack!” You admonished him slapping the arm that crossed in front of your stomach.

“Are you not comfortable right now?” Jack asked.  Your silence said more than you ever could.  Jack smirked, looking down at you again even though you continued to stare forward into nothingness, feeling bashful.  He then continued. “That’s what I thought. As I was saying...Truth:...”

There were only a couple more questions after that.  You wrapped up the set quickly and you both gave each other a tight hug.  You then individually went around the room to thank the staff.  You were both then escorted back to your private dressing rooms to tidy up before the final interview.  You thought about what you were going to say when they asked if you would like to see Jack again for a second date.  You couldn’t tell the truth, but you also didn’t want to make it seem like you didn’t like Jack.  In the end you settled for:

“I had a great time today with Jack. It was a little weird at first because we’re friends. It’s also not a typical first date, by any standards. I’m sure I’ll see him again since we all hangout together. And hey, he did say he was going to become better for me so, who knows?”

You closed off with a wink and then waved to everyone before you went back to your hotel.

You were exhausted when you entered your hotel room.  The hotel was gorgeous and way out of your price range. You were very glad that you were able to split the cost.  You were surprised to see the lights already on when you walked into the room.  You slipped off your shoes, talking to the figure who you could see laying face up on the bed.

“How did you get here before me?” You asked. “I was in and out pretty quickly.”

Jack sat up on his forearms. He had discarded his leather jacket on a nearby chair and now you could see clearly how the t-shirt hugged his biceps.  Deliciously, his t-shirt hugged them deliciously.

“First time I ever finished faster than you.” Jack teased.  

You walked toward him, reaching under your crop top to unloosen your bra.  You pulled one arm out of your sleeve to let the bra strap fall before doing the same with the other.  You tossed your bra on the chair with Jack’s jacket before jumping on the bed and straddling him.

“I don’t think that’s true.” You said, grinding your hips against his.

“Wanna bet?” Jack leaned forward and captured your lips in a kiss.

The kiss was much more fiery than the one you shared in the studio. It was the way you were used to kissing each other this past month since you moved from friends to a secret couple. You had been officially dating for three months.  The festival incident was the first time you both messed up in public, but your agents saw it as an opportunity to slowly get people used to the idea of you two together. 

Jack slid his hands up your skirt to massage your ass gently.  You tangled your fingers in his hair, giving it a little tug.  He rewarded you by deepening the kiss with a moan and more tongue.  Between breathy kisses you managed to ask,

“You set that up, didn’t you?” The thought had been lingering in your mind since the moment you took off the blindfold. 

Jack gave you another sloppy kiss before responding. His eyes were filled with lust and you could tell he was more interesting in doing than talking. “It didn’t sit right with me that you were still doing that show even though we got together.”

“We secretly got together.” You reminded him. You brushed your thumbs on his cheeks, lightly ruffling his beard as you cupped his face.  You pecked his lips. “It would have been weird to cancel after that picture of the festival went viral.  It’s also a huge opportunity to get my name out there. Besides, I wouldn’t have kissed anyone else on there. You know I’m not like that.”

“I know, baby.” Jack said, giving your butt another squeeze. “I just...couldn’t help myself.  The thought of another guy even thinking he had a chance with you makes me sick.  Especially dressed like this. ”

“You’re so possessive...” You teased him bending down to give him another kiss.  You let your hands travel down his jaw to his neck to his chest, loving the soft material that covered his hard muscles underneath.

Jack reciprocated by slipping his hands underneath your shirt and caressing your breasts. “You’re one to talk.  Sitting on my lap like that. Kissing me like that. I should’ve bent you over the table right there.”

You laughed. “You were the one being awkward about it. I had to do something.”

“Yeah, well I gotta do something now.” Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out the black satin blindfold.  You gasped softly before it turned into a giggle.  He waved at you.  “What do you say?”

You nodded and Jack surprised you by not wrapping it around your eyes, but around your wrists instead. Jack let one hand fall back to your behind, this time letting a finger hook on your underwear. He gave a sharp tug at the thing piece of your thong and snapping it causing you to moan softly. 

“Get in position, baby...” He cooed.

You climbed off of him and let your knees sink deeper into the bed. You bent forward so your butt was in the air and your face was pressing into the comforter.  You felt Jack’s hand run against your wrists checking the tie before letting them slip under your skirt and message the skin there.  You closed your eyes, relaxing into his touch. All night you were waiting for this moment and you knew Jack was going to deliver.

~

Dating Jack was probably your worst kept secret.  From the festival to the interview to the way you were screaming his name in that hotel room, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you both had to go public.  It wouldn’t be until a couple weeks later, when the blind date video aired, that you would realize Jack was ready for that a bit earlier than you thought. His final remarks about the date were a lot more clear than yours and they gave you butterflies when you saw them. 

“As I said, Y/n, is the perfect partner for me. Smart, ambitious, beautiful, independent, supportive --it’s all the qualities that make her a good friend that would make her the best girlfriend. I know she thinks I’m not ready to settle down, but I’ve been single for too long.  I’m hoping to get that second date and maybe a third and a fourth... you know until we can’t even keep count.” Jack let out a laugh and a shake of his head.  And a teeny tiny wink, so small that you could’ve missed. But you didn’t, because you knew it was for you.

____

A/N: This has been in my drafts since Valentine’s Day!! I didn’t like it because it was slightly different from my usual style since it has a lot of dialogue.  But I re-read it recently and thought, eh, why not? Plus I remembered really liking the secret relationship plot twist.

I hope y’all liked it! Thank you for a great year (and then some!). Hopefully I can come back in a better headspace and write with you all again soon. Till then, be well 💕

[alicewritingstories]

Whumptober Prompt Fills Part 11: Kidnapped

~Also on AO3~

No. 18: “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.” | Blindfold | Tortured For Information | “Hit them harder.”

No. 20: “People don’t change people, time does.” | Blanket | Found Family | “You will regret touching them.”

No. 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now.” | Bloody Knife | Sacrifice | “You’ll have to go through me.”

Warnings: Field medicine, injury, kidnapping, torture.

Central character(s): Legend, Warriors

Time's Castletown was lively and safe and Warriors breathed a small sigh as he looked around the market. Time had gone to speak to Lullaby, most of the Chain were resting up at the inn where they'd rented rooms for the night, but he and Legend had come to the market to buy some supplies.

Legend folded his arms, eyeing the busy marketplace with a wrinkled nose. "Divide and conquer?" he suggested.

Warriors chuckled. "Let's see - I'd put potions and arrows next to each other, for a start. Come on."

They plunged into the crowd. Warriors didn't mind being jostled - unlike many of the heroes, he was used to towns and cities and this was easy to distinguish from the noise and press of battle unless anything else happened to blur the boundaries. He kept glancing over his shoulder to make sure Legend was keeping up; the veteran had also spent plenty of time in towns but liked them a lot less and he kept looking around warily, nose still wrinkled in discomfort.

"There." Warriors had spotted a stall selling bundles of arrows and pointed. Legend craned his neck to see over the shoulders of the crowd and nodded.

"I'll head there," he said.

Warriors nodded, looking around for somewhere they might be able to buy potions. "I'll meet you there," he said and walked on.

He'd been right that adventuring supplies would be close together and had a bag of red and green bottles when he got back to the arrow stall not long after, but there was no sign of Legend. He frowned. Legend didn't like crowded markets enough to wander and as the minutes ticked by he got more worried. The crowd was thinning a little - he guessed they'd come during some sort of lunchtime rush - and there was no sign of Legend.

"Can I help you, sir?" asked the stallholder, who'd been eyeing him suspiciously as he stood there with no sign of planning to buy anything.

"Did my friend come by?" asked Warriors. "He was looking for arrows and we agreed to meet here. A little shorter than me, blue cap, red tunic with a green undershirt?"

To his surprise and horror, the stallholder shook his head. "I've not seen anyone dressed like that this afternoon."

"We parted only a few yards from here," said Warriors, looking around, the worry congealing into something more like fear. The bustle and noise of the market suddenly started to feel ominous.

A few other nearby stallholders were also starting to look over, curious now that business was slowing.

"Everything all right?" one of them asked.

"My friend seems to have gone missing somewhere between there" - Warriors indicated the place he'd last seen Legend - "and here." He forced a smile. "As you can imagine, he can hardly have lost his way. Have any of you seen anything of him? Or any sign that something happened to him? Blond hair with a tinge of pink on one side of his bangs; blue eyes; dressed in green and red with a blue cap, about this tall -"

When Warriors indicated Legend's height with his hand, one stallholder did look suddenly concerned. Yes, he had seen a young man in a blue cap walking along the stall fronts in the right direction, but it had only been a glance and then he was gone. However, a few minutes later he had seen a couple of men struggling to carry a sacking-wrapped bundle about the right length out from between two stalls. He'd thought they might be trying to steal something - they'd looked a little surreptitious - but none of the surrounding stallholders seemed to have missed anything and wares that size would be noticed, so he'd thought no more of it. Now he thought about it, they had emerged from somewhere near where he'd glimpsed the boy in the cap.

They had headed for the east gate. Warriors thanked him in a hurry and ran there next. When he spoke to the gate guards, he heard the same report: a third had come to join the original two and the guard had thought it was odd that they didn't have a packhorse or a barrow for their goods, but had decided it was none of his business.

Warriors thought fleetingly that if he was this man's commanding officer he'd have more to say to him, but just left a message to be taken back to the castle and hurried on down the road.

He knew it was dangerous to go alone and that he should get help from the guards or fetch the other heroes, but in the time that would take anything could have happened. The best he could do was to let them know what was happening.

He had been jogging down the road for about ten minutes before he spotted a trampled bush on one side of the road.

He crouched to look for any sign of footprints, but he wasn't a good tracker at the best of times and all he could make out was that more than one person had walked through. He huffed out a breath and followed the trail.

Again, it wasn't long before he had his next clue: raised voices. He slowed and crept forward, flitting from one tree to the next. Soon he was certain that one of the voices was Legend's, raised in defiant anger and - his heart skipped a beat - the occasional sharp yelp of pain.

He paused and took a deep breath, calling on his training.

Steady. You won't help him by rushing in.

Information. Then plan. Then act. Then feel.

With another breath, he walked on, balancing speed and stealth, still doing his best to ignore the shouts and cries.

Soon he could see smoke filtering up through the trees ahead and the outline of a few small tents. He slipped behind a long clump of large bushes and started to creep closer, almost on hands and knees.

Now he was close enough to make out words.

"Last chance, Brat, where's the one with the Ocarina?"

"Go to Hell!"

Warriors took a deep breath and let it out again as he heard an impact of boot on flesh and a breathless, pained grunt from Legend.

Focus.

He peered out from behind the bush, scanning across the makeshift camp beyond.

He spotted Legend immediately, lying on the ground not far from a campfire, his hands tied behind his back and a strip of cloth tied over his eyes. His jaw was bruised and there was blood in his hair and at his mouth, his clothes were torn and bloody, and one of his legs was limp and misshapen below the knee. Broken. He'd need to be healed or carried. That would make extracting him harder.

Next, Warriors' eyes flicked to the man standing over him. Burly, but not armored. Holding a bloodstained knife. As he looked around the camp, he counted four more of much the same type. They didn't seem to be keeping good watch; their attention was on the interrogation. Warriors noted that there were none between him and Legend. Getting to Legend would be easy. Depending on how fast these people moved, getting out might be harder, but he'd seen plenty of worse odds despite the imbalance in numbers. The best method would be speed.

"We saw you heroes arrive in town and we know one of you has the Ocarina, so which one is it?"

Legend responded with a string of swearing.

The man slashed the knife down in the same moment as Warriors burst out of hiding, leaving a shallow slice across Legend's chest before Warriors' shoulder impacted with his midsection and he went flying.

"You will regret touching him," snarled Warriors, standing over Legend and drawing his sword.

The men hesitated, less confident faced with someone who wasn't bound and injured. For a moment Warriors hoped they would break and run, but then the one with the knife lunged at him. He parried the blow easily and opened a long, disabling slash up the man's arm that made him reel back, dropping the knife.

"You bastard!" he yelled.

Warriors didn't respond except to shift on his feet and raise his sword again, a stern warning in his gaze.

One of the others made a dart towards him, raising a club, but then apparently thought better of it as he met Warriors' eye. After a moment longer, they turned and ran. The wounded one snarled a last threat, then also fled, clutching his wounded arm.

With a snort of disgust, Warriors looked around to make sure there was nobody else approaching and that the retreat wasn't a bluff. As confident as he could be, he dropped to his knees beside Legend, laying his sword in easy reach. Horror at what had been done to his brother finally started to pierce the chill of his training.

"Legend, it's me, Warriors," he said as calmly as he could. "It's OK. I'm going to take off the blindfold now."

Despite the warning and reassurance, as he started to pull the blindfold up Legend flinched with a pained gasp.

"It's OK," Warriors said again. "It's me." He pulled the blindfold free and shifted so he was looking Legend in the eye. "Legend, eyes on me. I'm here."

Legend blinked and took a quick, sharp breath, his eyes finally focussing on Warriors' face. Then he relaxed with a sigh that turned into a groan.

"What took you so long?" he asked.

"Finding you. I can see your leg's broken and you're bleeding. Is there anything I can't see?"

Legend winced, but the too-often-repeated routine of checking injuries seemed to be calming him. "I think he broke some of my ribs," he said. "And my head is killing me. I think they knocked me out when they captured me. And I feel… a bit sick."

Warriors nodded as he lifted Legend slightly to get at his bound wrists and cut them free. A potion would take care of most of it, though it sounded like the veteran had at least a mild concussion and those problems would need to fade on their own. "I'll need to set your leg. Do you want something to bite?"

Legend shivered, but nodded and accepted the belt Warriors passed him, folded it in two, and slipped it between his teeth.

"Ready?"

Legend nodded.

Warriors hated setting broken bones, but even when the whole Chain was there he was the one best-trained to do it. He took a deep breath and, as fast as he safely could, gripped Legend's foot, braced his own foot against the underside of Legend's thigh, and pulled the broken lower leg straight. Legend jolted, a strangled cry escaping the belt clenched between his teeth, and gagged as he almost threw up and managed to hold it down. Then he went limp, panting. Warriors took out a potion even as he went back to kneel by his head and removed the belt.

"Are you still there?" he asked.

Panting, Legend raised a hand to give a weak thumbs-up. Warriors smiled and raised his head and shoulders to set the mouth of a potion bottle to his lips. As he drank, Warriors could see him relaxing, the bruises fading and the wounds visible through the tears in his clothes scabbing over.

"OK," he said as he took the empty bottle away again. "Can you walk?"

Legend nodded, sitting up slowly. "Yeah. I'll be fine. Thanks." He sighed. "We're going to have to tell the old man about this, aren't we?"

"It's clearly him they're looking for," agreed Warriors.

"Right." Legend forced a shaky smile. "Well, let's get it over with."

[fullofsunsetwhispers]

Those craiyon pics of Jack Spicer in court are great.

Jack is on trial and Omi is doing the very best to be his lawyer and defend him, so he has to climb up on the court table to look professional and tall. Omi's yelling about how he knows that Jack is good deep deep deep down. Or maybe he's yelling "Gong Yi Tempai" to start the trial.

Anon, reveal yourself, so I can kiss you.

Let's make it comedy gold and make Jack oblivious to charges.

The police raided his house, turned off all the tech that makes him an evil boy genius, and escorted him out of his bedroom during his nap. He regained consciousness when they threw him like a bag of potatoes in the backseat of the police car. 'Hey what's going on!?' - the kidnapped boy exclaimed 'You have your right to remain silent - was the response. Jack tried to protest through various means: yelling, threatening, and loud sobbing. Unfortunately, to no effect. Cops refused to elaborate where they're headed and why this 'lovely ride' occurred. He was put in a cell for a couple of hours, waiting for the trial. (if this is a scenario with ghost!wuya I would also add a short scene in which she suggests Jack escape, but he refuses bc he's afraid his parents may know about this. And when it comes to his parents' disappointment and jail - he would choose jail)

At some point, he gains enough strength to ask a warden if he can get a lawyer. The warden, to Jack's surprise says, he was already assigned one.

In court, Jack is very stressed. No sign of his lawyer and judge would be here soon. Suddenly, the courtroom's door is flung open with a thump. jack has never felt so embarrassed. It was no one else but Omi with his little team of xiaolin losers. However, there was something off about their appearances. They had more formal clothes than usual. Especially cueball, who was wearing a fine grey suit with a dark-blue tie. Jack thought to himself that's about time for Kimiko to finally buy some normal clothes for Omi. The red-haired boy observed how they seated themselves in the first row. Omi spotted jack, so he waved at him. In spite of such a warm welcome, Jack slipped off of his chair, so he could hide the shame drawing on his very pale face. Then, he remembered, that the trial will soon begin, so he corrected his posture and decided to act adequately. From the corner of his eye, he saw Omi exchanging a few words with his friends. 'They're mocking me, I bet.' - hissed through his teeth the accused evil boy genius. 'No, we were discussing how to help you!' - a cheerful voice rung into his ears. Jack Spicer turned his head in the direction the voice came from. He squalled in fear, seeing Omi sitting next to him as if he teleported. When the initial adrenaline rush wore off, he started scolding the young monk. 'The hell's your deal. cheeseball!?' 'I just want to help!' 'Yeah, I don't need your pity. You and the xiaolin freaks should leave, me and my lawyer will clear up this misunderstanding.' Omi smiled at the redhead. - 'sure, you will!' - he chirped. 'That's why you should get out of his chair, he'll be here in any minute.' Omi's smile turned into a wide grin - 'He's already sitting on his chair!'

Jack's eyes widened and he took a glance at Omi once again, with disbelief. That's just perfect. They taught Omi how to joke around. Unfortunately, the future prince of darkness did not find the joke particularly funny. In fact, he got angrier: 'Ha-HA! My patience is running out, little man. GET LOST.' After Jack's words, Omi made a worried face. 'But jack Spicer, I AM your lawyer!!!' With Omi's shout, the others in tune laid on the line the sad truth. Omi indeed was assigned as Jack's lawyer.

It wasn't visible at all, but Jack felt as if he got paler. ' My lawyer? You? For real!?? - he asked incredulously. Omi put tiny hands on his waist and beamed with pride: 'YES, I AM!' Jack:

In this very moment, the judge and the crew entered the court. Jack knew he was finished. He started whispering about how mad his parents would be if they find out. Omi, on the other hand, seeing how distressed his client is, patted his shoulder to calm him down.

'We'll certainly win, Jack Spicer!'

'We won't. - evil boy genius stated, looking at the watch that activated jackbots - 'There's only one way. I'm getting away from here. I'll be a wanted man, but I'll manage' - he clicked the button but nothing happened.

He struggled for a while repeating pushing the button on and on. Then Omi informed him the police officers took in his robots.

'ya mean 'they took them away' - Jack corrected cheeseball and when monk's words sunk in, he almost leaped out of his chair:

'They have my robots!?' 'Yes' 'Now I wanna fight' 'You won't.' 'I won't' :( - jack sighed, resigned. - 'Ok but what they're charging me off?'

'I don't know that yet' - Omi reluctantly admitted

'You're my lawyer! You SHOULD know things like that!'

Then the small banter escalates between the little lawyer and Jack. They both try to figure out on what grounds Jack was arrested. Omi asks about the evil deeds he committed in the near past, which Jack enumerates, but those are very trivial ones.

The whole conversation comes down to this:

Omi assures Jack he's got this and then this funny thing, which anon suggested, happens.

Little one, to everyone's astonishment, yells 'Gong Yi Tempai' with confidence this is how you start a trial.

Jack looks angrily at Omi's friends as if he accused them of not explaining to Omi how he should behave in court.

Clay mouths something along the lines 'we're sorry there was no time' and Rai discretely whispers to Omi that was inappropriate.

Little monk blushed and apologized. The trial continues and there is a touching moment in which Omi with determination tries to prove Jack is capable of good things, too! Jack was so struck by that confession he was speechless.

__________________________

That was written down in a fit of inspiration, hope you find that wholesome and funny. Sorry for finishing at such a moment we don't know if Jack is really guilty or not. Anyway, I pictured Jack and Omi's shenanigans perfectly, so that should suffice!

[shadowsshowdown]

Deus Ex: Human Revolution Shadow’s Showdown 66

The blue among black.

Detroit. Connor's apartment.

Laura stood a few steps away from the Aston Martin, expecting an answer. During her visit to Rupert, she had almost forgotten that her wounds had not yet healed, and now they reminded her about their presence with a piercing pain twisting her mouth in an unnatural grimace. The whole situation overwhelmed the woman more and more, and Connor wasn't making anything easy for her.

"We'll talk about it at home, okay?" he suggested with calmness in his voice. "You're tired, and barely staying on your feet because of the pain. Please don't protest."

A long, loud sigh answered him. Calm, Dale always was calm. Sometimes even suspiciously and unnaturally as if someone had programmed him, she thought. The woman nodded and got into the car. Had it not been for the pain, their conversation would have turned into an argument, one of those similar to a hurricane. During all the travel they remained silent. Dale decided not to try to change this fact and focused on driving the car, which moved smoothly on the asphalt and braked gently at pedestrian crossings and red lights. Even when he stepped on the gas to overtake the car in front of them, he did so with great accuracy. At such moments, it's better to take a step back than to impose himself by talking about the weather. He turned on the radio but as soon as the first words of a song came from the speakers he immediately regretted it.

In our headlights, staring, bleak, beer cans, deer's eyes On the asphalt underneath, our crushed plans and my lies Lonely street signs, power lines, they keep on flashing, flashing by (flashing)

The lies, his lies, with which he fed Laura, were unforgivable, and being aware of this, he continued to press on with this shit. He continued pretending to be a model friend and a knight on a white horse. Someday shit will hit the fan, and the price he would pay would be enormous. He reached out looking for the button to turn off the radio when he felt the touch of her hand on his.

"Leave it on. I like this song," she said quietly.

So he had to continue to endure this torture but despite his desire, he did not protest. He bit his lip so hard that he immediately felt the sweet-metallic taste of blood in his mouth.

And we keep driving into the night, It's a late goodbye, such a late goodbye And we keep driving into the night, it's a late goodbye

When they reached the house, he helped her take off her jacket and shoes. In doing so, he expected a terrible argument, but Laura was calm. Too calm for what she had accustomed him to. She marched to the bathroom and then straight to bed before he had time to suggest it to her. Dressed in his pyjamas, he joined her moments later, handing her a mug of hot cocoa.

"Wounds bothered you a lot when we were at Rupert's?" he asked, turning a grey mug in his hands. For her, he prepared a blue one. He bought it on purpose, though he knew it would disturb the harmonies of the grey. Maybe that's not a bad thing? "Yes and no," she replied. "I forgot about the pain for a while, but then it reminded me about its existence."

Connor turned the mug in his hands again, giving by that an expression of nervousness, and looked at his reflection peering at the surface of the brown liquid. "I didn't tell you about Adam and the funeral because I saw the state you were in. I knew it would have killed you. I was afraid, so damn afraid. That's why I kept silent."

Honesty, a step forward, a step toward being a better person. Am I sure I’m still human? Where does humanity end? Maybe I am already a machine? - these questions have haunted him for many years. He set his mug down on the nightstand and wanted to go to sleep but when he turned his head he encountered Laura's green, sparkling eyes. They seemed unnaturally large and extraordinarily beautiful to him. They attracted him, hypnotized him, tempted him. He fought the temptation, although anyone else in his position would certainly have given up without a fight and seized the opportunity. He wouldn't, despite how close they had become in recent times. Despite how much events had brought them together. He trembled more and more overwhelmed with fear.

Your breath hot upon my cheek and we crossed that line

He did not know when it happened, but their lips joined in a long, passionate kiss. His struggle proved futile, and he felt bad about it. It went against all his principles, yet he couldn't break the moment. They had already kissed at Sarif's ball, but then it was completely different. It was just a game. At least that's how he explained it. He wanted to push Laura away, but his hands froze in mid-motion. The body stopped listening to commands. It gave up.

You made me strong when I was feeling weak and we crossed that one time Screaming stop signs, staring wild eyes, keep on flashing, flashing by (flashing)

Her lips were soft and sweet, perfectly balancing the bitterness ingrained in him. Laura was very forceful, perhaps even slightly insistent. He could have sworn she stroked his palate with her tongue, but maybe it was his imagination that was more creative than usual. They lingered like this in non-being, somewhere between waking up and dreaming, in a stagnant silence broken only by the hum of cars that passed by his house from time to time. When he decided to get carried away with the moment and accepted that he was lost, she cut the kiss by pushing him away slightly.

"I'm sorry, that was inappropriate. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm stupid." She looked away, embarrassed, blushing, beautiful. "We're just humans, and humans do all sorts of strange things. Apparently we both needed it," Connor replied calmly, though he did not know by what miracle he was able to put aside his emotions. Embarrassment came later and was even greater when he realized he had used the word "both." "I gave you unnecessary hope," she said. "Nonsense. We've known each other for a while. If there was going to be a fiery feeling between us, it would have happened long ago." He lied. The feeling had long since burst into flame, but only he knew about it. "But…" "Forget about it," his voice now took on a firmness, sounding almost like an order. He had to, otherwise things would get bad. "Fine," she replied, gaining a slight smile. "If you had told me about the funeral earlier, I would have bought flowers," she changed the subject, sensing that Dale was not at all easily distanced from her gesture. "I don't have anything suitable to wear." "Relax, there will be plenty of time in the morning. We'll drive over to your place and then to the flower shop." "Mhm…" she muttered.

Laura fell asleep before Connor had time to add he should change her dressing. He covered her with a quilt and a moment later fell asleep beside her himself. He should go to the other room but didn't have the strength. Besides it could look awkward in the current situation and negate his earlier statement.

The morning broke into Dale's sleepy reality with a loud purring and merciless scratching of his belly. He probably would have ignored this fact had it not been for the accompanying excruciating pain and the simultaneous feeling that the room was terribly hot. His sleepy gaze soon sharpened on the big cat eyes staring at him.

"Stalker…" he muttered quietly, not wanting to wake Laura.

He blinked several times trying to catch the focus of his vision and verify he was at his home. Moments earlier, he had been sitting in the cockpit of the spaceship, typing in the coordinates of the planet he was about to travel to on the touch screen. Master Pai Mei gave him an important quest to find socks. Not just any socks. One was to be right, and the other left, both in a perfectly harmonious grey colour. He visited plenty of empty planets, asked the locals, and was even in a nightclub where he intended to rest before departing but the place was uninteresting and only a few people were lazily swaying to the fast pace of electronic music so he decided to move on. After dozens of hours of travel he had about a hundred pairs of socks but none of them formed that perfect pair so he continued to fly aimlessly and the journey seemed endless.

As he untangled his legs from under the quilt, he noticed he was wearing jeans and a thick wool sweater. This was more ridiculous than his dream. He hurriedly took the cat in his arms and marched to the kitchen. Through all the commotion, he forgot refilling the food dispenser. In the process, he replaced the water in the bowl with clean water, while incessantly thinking why he slept with his clothes on. He was sure he had put on his pyjamas but maybe through fatigue he only thought so. The clock ticking on the wall announced it was about seven in the morning, so he was going to change his clothes, go back to bed and indulge in a little more sweet laziness. On his way to the bathroom he saw his pyjamas lying on the floor, his jacket right next to it, his cap carelessly thrown on the cabinet and his muddy shoes, one of which was lying near the door and the other standing by the pouffe. Once he had put all his things in order, he noticed a scarf hanging from a lamp. He pulled carefully at its end while sighing helplessly. He suspected it was Laura who had played a prank on him however he could not ask her about it. Having changed his clothes, he marched to the bedroom and, sitting on the edge of the bed, slipped his slippers off his feet, placing them perfectly evenly next to each other. The tip of the left slipper was already beginning to rub through, making it less grey than the other at this point, which irritated Connor immensely. That's why it was so hard for him to accept he could leave his clothes scattered and his shoes dirty. Unfortunately, in addition to further analyzing the bizarre event, he was quickly overwhelmed by new concerns about how Laura would behave at the funeral. He sincerely hoped nothing untoward would happen.

An hour later they were sitting together in the kitchen eating breakfast although it was more Dale who swallowed the prepared meal while Laura bit into her sandwich maybe twice. They didn't talk much beyond the necessary communication. When they finished, Connor went to the bathroom, while Laura returned to the room and prepared her clothes to go out. Dale, mindful of Laura's condition, tried not to rush her, but there was not as much time as he assumed.

"I'm sorry for being so clumsy. We'll probably be late," she sighed with resignation as she tried unsuccessfully to zip up her jacket. "We'll make it in time if you know what you want to wear and what flowers to buy," he replied, helped Laura deal with the zipper and corrected her cap, which was tilted to the right a bit too much.

A quarter of an hour later they were already outside her house. Connor wanted to go with Laura, but she assured she could manage on her own and it wouldn't take too long. Actually, she wasn't lying, although what she was wearing made his fears confirmed.

"I don't think you have any intention of…" "Yes I do," she replied in a firm tone, interrupting him in mid-sentence. "But…" "If you want to be on time, you'd better save the remarks for yourself," she added. "You've obviously forgotten we're going to a funeral, not a party," he didn't want to give up but if they were going to make it in time, he had to give in to her so he sighed, let out the air loudly and started the engine.

On the way, they stopped in front of a flower shop. Dale didn't want to know what she would come up with this time. She came out carrying a bouquet of forget-me-nots and an amaranth orchid. He had hoped for something more appropriate but it could have been worse. Connor drove the car as perfectly as he behaved every day, and that irritated Laura, especially today. If she had been the one driving, at least a few times she would have allowed herself to exceed the speed limit or speed up when the light changed from green to red. She had a feeling that even Adam wouldn't be so by the book.

Detroit. Cemetery.

The cemetery, placed near the church, was not large, making the gathered people crowd like ants in an anthill. Rectangular space was fenced with a stone wall, having not many gravestones on it and a few old trees. Laura recognized some of the faces she saw in the company corridor. There were those obnoxious whores, who saw in Jensen only a nice ass, and also those who would most willingly get rid of Laura. Her observations were interrupted by a sudden tug on her arm. The woman's gaze went straight to the source of the gesture.

"It's good you came. Otherwise, I would have torn you apart with my own hands," she heard Faridah's quiet but extremely aggressive tone. "Although I should for what you’re wearing." "Let her go," interrupted Connor firmly. "You don't even know what kind of hell she's been through." "Are you going to defend her now?" she snarled, stepping back and intertwining her hands on her chest. "We'll talk about it later and in another place. For example, at my house after the funeral," he suggested. "Be that as it may. Now follow me. After all, you are more important than half of these insincere colleagues."

Malik paved the way and soon they found themselves next to Pritchard, Athene and David Sarif. Frank looked odd, to say the least, in his black coat and panama type hat. There were also two people there whom Laura didn't know but guessed were probably Adam's parents. The man stood confidently on his feet, upright with his head proudly raised. He was tall, slim and athletic, bringing to mind a security guard or military officer. He gave the impression of someone of icy character as if he didn't care he had lost his son. He wore a perfectly tailored black coat and an elegant hat. Next to him stood a woman, rather slim and reaching the man's shoulder in height. She couldn't see the faces of both of them because at the moment they were standing with their backs to her, exchanging a few words with Sarif, who was so nice that if she didn't know him she would get caught in those business tricks.

Before the ceremony began, it started to rain, which momentarily turned into thick snow. Soon a sea of umbrellas spilled over the cemetery, and Connor looked triumphantly at Laura, who only sighed. Before they got out of the Aston Martin she had argued with him about the umbrella he now held over his head and hers. The anticipation was increasingly unbearable. She felt like she was hearing whispers, accusations and remarks. She wouldn't have cared so much if it had been about appearance. Unfortunately, they were talking about the fact that she was the one who contributed to the death of Adam and many other people. She wanted to run away, to disappear, to squander everything she had worked out during her visit to Rupert. The woman looked behind her trying to find the best route of escape, carefully planning every move. Her intentions were interrupted by the Scot, standing together with Demelza not far from the old oak tree. He was her salvation in this difficult moment. One look from him was enough to give her strength.

The ceremony, though it seemed long, flashed by in time, stopping at a question addressed to those gathered. "Does anyone want to say anything?" - rumbled in her head. A growing hesitation, uncertainty, and fear. Maybe she shouldn't, but after all, she wanted to. She had to.

"I'd like to say a few words," she announced in a loud, confident tone.

The crowd murmured, Connor looked at her in horror. Faridah shook her head, escaping with her gaze to the side. Sarif, on the other hand, remained unmoved, as if Adam was just one of his pawns to be replaced. Laura stepped forward and stood next to the pit where the coffin rested. It was cherry-coloured and had an ornate plaque with name, surname and dates. Adam Jensen - the inscription proclaimed. She still couldn't believe it. It still didn't occur to her that she had lost him as well. A rotten world, full of insincerity and evil. Unfortunately, this is not a movie. Here there are no superheroes with immense powers. There are only ordinary people, mostly indifferent to what is happening around them. Reconciled to everything that follows.

"I know most of you are outraged by my appearance, however, I think Adam would not like to see us depressed. Especially if it is forced by the situation. That's why I'm sincere and will say goodbye to him dressed in a blue coat, dress and wide-brimmed derby hat. I will say goodbye to him as he deserves, and in my memory, he will shine like gold, forever. I will smile and rejoice because he probably travelled to a better world. Free of lies and conspiracies. This is not goodbye, but only a fond farewell, because one day maybe we will meet again and you will greet me with that husky voice of yours saying "Good morning". I will miss you, though I hope you are happy."

The crowd murmured even more like a swarm of agitated bees. Laura walked closer and threw a bouquet of forget-me-nots on the lid of the coffin.

"I will never forget you, grumpy Cerberus," she whispered.

As she turned back to Connor, she could have sworn that Sarif's lips twitched in a smile of recognition or disdain. Faridah wanted to say something but only opened her mouth. Laura looked back toward Rupert, who silently clapped his hands, letting her know her actions were right. Soon the ceremony was over and the crowd slowly dwindled, walking through narrow gates. Malik still couldn't believe Adam was gone, although she was more surprised that Laura didn't shed a single tear unlike her. After all, they were already so close and she cared so much about him. What had happened beyond her knowledge? And why is Laura moving with such difficulty?

"Are we going home?" asked Dale, again shielding her with an umbrella. "I'd like to talk to Rupert for a while, and then visit one more place.

Connor guessed who the orchid was for and fear gripped him again. He followed the woman with his eyes until Faridah interrupted him.

"I can come at five o'clock today if you don't mind," she said in a cool tone. "Of course, you're welcome," he replied politely, though he knew it would be a difficult conversation.

"It's good to see you, my dear, despite the circumstances," Demelza greeted her with usual kindness, then wiped her eyes with a checkered handkerchief. "It’s good to see you too. Your presence has helped me a lot," she said looking at them.

Only now did grief overwhelm her and Laura realized that she simply was stressed. She felt the chill of the wind blowing and the cold snowflakes hitting against her cheeks. Rupert, seeing the state she was in, came over and shielded her with an umbrella.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "You're welcome. You were very brave today. I may question your choice of outfit, but you were able to push the boundaries. You will be remembered, that's for sure. Maybe even appreciated." "I don't care about recognition. I did it for myself, that's what my conscience and gut dictated. Adam was very principled, however, I know he wouldn't want me to worry. Besides, I often went against his principles."

Rupert smiled slightly, suppressing laughter due to the seriousness of the situation and respect for the place. "It's true, he was the complete opposite of you, and yet you understood each other perfectly," he admitted, nodding at the same time.

Laura wanted to say something more but was interrupted by Connor as if he didn't want her to talk to Rupert.

"Forgive me for interrupting, but we should get back," he suggested. "You can go back on your own, I'll stay here some more," she replied.

Dale didn't want to argue, not here. He didn't want to be overprotective either, but the woman needed to rest in a warm bed, besides, they were going to visit one more place and Faridah will visit them later.

"Faridah will visit us today."

These words electrified Laura, causing her to anxiously shift from one foot to the other. She had not expected this confrontation, not today. There seemed to be nothing left of the old friendship, only regret and hostility.

"You know you can visit us anytime you want," the psychologist reminded her. "Now I certainly know," she replied jokingly. "See you around. Stay safe." "See you, my dear. We'll be waiting," Demelza replied.

Detroit.

Connor knew which place Laura wanted to visit so he just drove while she silently held an orchid in her hands. The Aston Martin gently turned right and fit into the gap between the two cars. The woman got out on her own and disappeared into the alley after a while. He didn't even ask if he could accompany her. Maybe he should go there? What if someone is there? If she is in danger again? Doubts rolled around in his head creating surreal images. Still, he restrained his imagination before the creations escalated into something even more preposterous. He turned on the radio and immediately cursed quietly under his breath. Today he certainly has bad luck with his song selection.

Birds are born with no shackles Then what fetters my fate? Blown away, the white petals Leave me trapped in the cage

The endless isolation Can wear down my illusion Someday, I'll make a dream unchained

Laura looked around the yard. She had the impression that time had stood still here. The old, dirty mattresses, from which springs were sticking out, still remembered the events of that evening. The broken glass had not been cleaned up by anyone. The lamp post invariably looked on from above with the eye of a bulb hidden behind half-shattered plastic. Even the outlines of the bodies that the police had marked with white paint were still visible on the dark, cracked concrete. Everything was the same, except for the framed picture lying on the ground. The woman crouched down to take a closer look at it. It depicted a black silhouette trapped in a reddish-black lump resembling solidified lava. The figure had broken purple wings from which red liquid, probably blood, was dripping.

Laura's first instinct was to run away, she was overwhelmed with horror that once again Kratos was trying to dominate her life. She wanted to be as far away from this place as possible, to hide somewhere where he wouldn't find her. She was beginning to descend into madness again, and the madness consuming her was nothing but another victory for the enemy. Enough! - she shouted in her mind. So many times she had promised herself she would take up this fight, and each time she lost. Adam's life, Joe's life, how much more must happen for her to finally be hungry for vengeance? She hid the picture in her handbag and looked around the square once more, searching for something that could be a vase. She found a paint can, which she weighted down with a few stones and put the flower in it then went back to where Joe had died and placed an orchid on the ground.

"I will not run away again, Joe. Your wings will now be mine, I will fulfil my dream of freedom. I know I keep saying this, but I promise you that Kratos will pay for everything. Every our scar will be his scar. Finally, you will be able to be proud of me. You will always have a place in my heart, I will always remember your every smile, every bad day, our arguments and what separated us. Something that was supposed to be ours and never became real because of Kratos. I will always love you, Navras."

Let my heart bravely spread the wings Soaring past the night, to trace the primal light Let the clouds heal me of the stains Gently wipe the sorrow of my life I dream

The wind swept across the yard, hitting Laura with a piercing cold and almost snatching the hat from her head. She gripped it tightly with both hands, waiting for the wind to stop. She heard the sound of breaking glass and ringing metal. Her gaze momentarily went in the direction from which it came, but she saw no one. It was certainly the wind, so she ignored the incident, focusing her gaze on the orchid for a moment longer. Parting was something she couldn't handle at all, so she stood despite the biting cold and snow. The woman closed her eyes, and after a moment the feeling that she was not alone here overwhelmed her. She felt warmth as if someone was embracing her, and a warm breath right next to her ear made her tremble. She let the feeling carry her away. If only for a moment.

"I know you'd like to stay here a lot longer, but we should get back. It's getting colder," Connor's quiet voice made her jump slightly in place. "You scared me," she said a little angry that he had interrupted such an important moment for her by invading her private space. Nevertheless, he was right, the weather was getting worse, she was not feeling well, and the edge of her coat was gradually soaking up with water. Besides, Faridah was about to visit them. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to disturb you, but I had to," he tried to explain with a partial lie. Yes, they should be home by now however he was actually worried about whether someone had attacked her. "Give me a moment more, I'll be right there," she asked, though it was the kind of tone that doesn't like refusal. "Okay, but not too long," he muttered and reluctantly returned to the car.

Left alone again, Laura took the picture out of her handbag and took another look at it. She wondered who could have left it there. Was it really Damien, who had smashed glass while watching her, and tripped over a garbage trash can while running away? Her head spun but she managed to catch her balance and immediately moved toward the main street.

"Goodbye," she said, stopping for a moment and looking back.

What is meant by miraclе? A word outside my days Once again, with the bubblеs But how could I escape?

No further hesitation On those unanswered questions So now, I'll make a dream unchained

Connor breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her, but the expression on his face clouded slightly when he saw with what difficulty Laura was moving. He momentarily got out of the Aston Martin, helped her reach the car and take her place in the passenger seat. The woman was remarkably calm, even cheerful as if she got rid of the burden she had been carrying all along.

"Let's go home," she said quietly fastening her seat belt.

Dale merely nodded and started the engine.

All  chapters can be found: [AO3], [dA], [Wattpad]and[Tumblr

[lifewithsyfe]

Lifting the Veil

Not quite sure how to put this into words, but someone else needs to know what I know. This story can save people and I won’t feel right until it’s consumed by as many as possible. I can’t express how many times I’ve tried to get this out. I almost even gave up on it, but God wouldn’t let me. So, let me make another attempt at it - this is how I escaped the devil:

-

It was a Friday night, April 5th, 2019. 

I’m at El Rey on U street NW DC, having a few crispy beers by myself. Just got off work, taking it easy...

-

Then, I end up running into and old “friend” I used to hangout with. Known him for about 7 years at the time: (Dave) - tall, black, dreads, above average build.

-

After a couple of drinks, he asks if I want to hangout at one of his friends house. Said we can smoke there and that she has a lot of drugs. 

So I accepted cuz I was originally going to let the night unravel on it’s own and it didn’t sound like such a bad idea at the time.

-

It was a habitual routine I developed during my heartache…

I’d go out alone, run into a group of people I knew, bar hop ‘til we ended up at an after hours spot (or someone’s place) and shamelessly sleep my next day away.

-

So we get to the front of his friend’s building and she’s like a 60 something-year-old lady: 

(Robin) - fat, white, short, blue hair, top row gold grill and “ride or die bitch” tattooed on the back of her neck (amongst a couple others, but that one stood out most because it was in my face while she was unlocking her apartment door).

-

At first, I thought it was a descriptive-type of tattoo. Like, she was saying that that’s what she was.

But in retrospect, it was almost like it was something she saying to me...you’ll see what I mean later, if you don’t get it now.

-

Oblivious to what was about to happen next, I continued to walk through that door...

Something felt off, but I just figured it would be something low-level weird. 

I’m always seeing signs that show somebody dabbles in magic or gives a head nod to the prince of darkness (such as a pentagram or something), but I figured “if I’m not actively practicing divinity or doing weird rituals, it won’t personally affect me…if I don’t create a ceremonial invitation, then I’ll be okay.”

-

Now, I’ve already had a good amount of spiritual experiences at this point (good and bad), but for some reason I just didn’t think anything like this would happen…at least not to me. 

-

I thought I had it all figured out, because I thought I’d seen it all - or at least enough. 

I should’ve known though…I was just so emotionally numb at the time, I was doing anything to feel anything.

I mean aesthetically speaking, in a worldly sense, she looked like she’d have a few good stories or something. Needless to say by now, but I ignored the red flags in hopes of escaping my pain. 

-

So, moving forward...

We walk into her apartment, sit on the couch, watch skate videos and start breaking some weed down.

After a few minutes of small talk, they offer me some acid in a vile. Emphasizing how it was very high grade stuff, but I didn’t need much convincing anyway. I was growing bored and undergoing an overwhelming amount of emotional damage.  

-

Now, I was very into psychedelics and considered myself extremely experienced in that realm. 

But just because I did it a lot, didn’t mean I was. You couldn’t tell me otherwise though.

It was usually my go-to for when I needed that unrivaled escape from reality. 

So yeah, I took the witch’s brew, still thinking it was something I considered fun.

-

Once it started to kick in, I could feel her beginning to stare at me from the end of the room with a big grin on her face.

She then suggested that I take my jacket off because I was going to end up getting really hot, then cackled like it was the funniest thing in the world to say.

-

It was something she said a couple of times too. At first I didn’t know exactly what she meant, I just thought she was a basket case repeating herself. But she was implying that I was going to end up in Hell…you’ll see what I mean.

-

A few moments go by and they both suggest we move the party to the rooftop because her place was limiting and we could see more from up there anyway. 

Plus, she wanted to blow bubbles (possibly a way to distract me from their underlying plot)…and I figured “tripping indoors is boring anyway, why not?”

-

Now because I took my jacket off and left it in her apartment, I began shivering after a while. 

I didn’t expect for it to be that windy, I only wanted a nice little breeze.

So she says she’ll get me a something cozy to put on and that she had to go in for more soap anyway. She comes back and asks to put this fur coat on me. It was nice, so I let her. It had an invigorating energy attached to it, I can't lie. I felt like a million bucks.

-

So I’m comfortable now and she gives me a a little rooftop tour, showing me the visible landmarks from each corner.

Mentioning for me to not to be afraid of my true potential and that I can obtain everything I want. 

I was feeling pretty good about those words, until I thought to myself “that sounds familiar…what if she isn’t speaking in general?” - but I just chalked it up to her being an old hippy. 

-

She then grabs my arm and tells me to look at this red wall, as we walk to the other side of the building. I figured it’d be something visually enticing she was trying to share, but this was going to be her first attempt at hypnosis. There were lights spaced out by every three steps we took, so it would go red-black-red-black-red-black... 

-

Then she asked if it felt like my soul was being massaged - encouraging me to ride it out...essentially, trying to get me to put my guard down, saying “this is where dreams become reality.” 

Then, I began seeing holographic outlines of people in the wall. The traces reminded me somewhat of a glowing snail trail.

-

Right after, I saw myself turn into a block of deformed flesh and almost being slid into the wall if I stared any longer. 

But like I woke up in one of those falling dreams, I snapped out of it with my heart racing.

-

Then with a laugh attached, she exclaims “damn, almost!” 

And that’s when I stopped letting myself be completely naive. The veil was clearly being lifted before me and I needed to be alert. It’s just, I had this slight muffle surrounding my common sense for some reason. Surely it must've been a spell she cast.

-

Now I knew hallucinogens were considered sorcery in the Bible, but I figured one more time couldn't hurt. It’s not like I wasn’t still smoking and drinking. 

It’s just crazy, because it was after learning about the what the fallen angels taught us in the Book of Enoch, is when I decided to trip again. I blatantly chose to play with fire and defy God that night. 

-

See, these hypnotic spells are telepathic contracts. Once the manipulator is installing a vision, it’s at the last second where it becomes your choice to see what happens next.  

It nudges at your curiosity, feeling like it’s a part of the trip you’re supposed to let happen.

But every time I almost did, my heart wouldn't allow it and I’d snap out of it again.

-

Every time she would make another attempt, I could feel my soul almost getting tugged at, with a malicious presence surrounding me. 

The goosebumps I got from this thing, felt like it was ready to defile me in every way possible.

-

In disbelief that what I thought might be happening, wasn’t - I tell myself “let me not cause a ruckus for no reason, I am trippin’ after all. Think of something positive.”

But now my eyes are shifting everywhere, because I keep getting a glimpse of whatever’s approaching. 

Even with that many peculiarities, something kept me in denial.

-

Still though, she tries another set-up and tells me to look at how high up we are, as she gestured for me to look down from the rail. As if I didn’t already know, but I go because I also didn’t want to be rude. I wasn't sure if everything happening was all in my head or not at the time, so I remained as cool as I could.

-

I grab the rail and look over…

(Dave) says “don’t let go,” giving me this wide-eyed look with a smile and said “you feel it, don’t you?”

Then just like that, my heart jumped and my mind began getting flashes of demonic symbols and images like subliminal messages. I even saw random equations in the air, like measurements and ratios of whichever object I laid my eyes on.

-

My vision was about to go black, exactly like the circle closing at the end of a cartoon…until I snapped out of it yet again and backed up with my head on a swivel, angrily questioning them. 

That’s when I caught (Dave) behind me, quickly hiding his hands. 

-

Now I’m on survival mode and it feels like I can’t even make a step without risking my soul, literally. Each step mattered. 

It's at this point that I can feel that I’m being made a fool out of, but of course they gaslight me and try to calm me down.

I still didn’t want to believe I was in this kind of mess, but I’d be a fool to let all of that slide so easily. I couldn't keep lying to myself, as bad as I wanted to.

-

So with caution, I’m trying to plan my escape - playing dumb, but my body is getting heavier by the second too.

She then lifts her speaker and says “listen to these different frequencies, it can change your mood.”

I really wasn’t trying to, because I needed to leave and I didn’t trust her at all now. Especially not with anything sound related.

Then out of nowhere, I hear a distorted garble come out of the speaker and hit my ear.

-

I  asked “what the fuck!?”

Then (Dave) was responds with “oh, you heard that...?”

I looked away and acted oblivious not knowing how I'm going to get out of this, because I felt that if they knew I could hear that, they’d bring out the big guns.

-

(Dave) laughed, saying to Robin “wait, he still don’t know what this is yet?”

Unintentionally, or intentionally letting me know what it was. 

So I tried to leave and they started laughing because the door needed a key fob in order to get to the elevators. They kept suggesting I have a seat, trying so hard to keep me there.

-

(Dave) said “you already ‘bouta do it, it’s better this way anyway.”

Then he was like “look at my hands, this shit trippy, right?”

Followed by him creating an infinity symbol with his waving hands. 

Now this infinity symbol was made of light and floating in mid-air in front of him after he did it. I even looked at it from the side to confirm that it was real.

Right after that, he did the Baphomet pose, flipping his hands and head perfectly in a stiff dance.

Which then caused me to see it’s true form in my minds eye, with a heavy vibration. Another attempt at making me slip, as I try to keep my reality gripped.

-

Once I can see them again, it’s like time stood still and only I could move. 

I’d look around and they’d be frozen. 

At this time, I can hear them having two simultaneous conversations. 

Although, all I caught was (Dave) say “he can’t hear us in this plane.”

-

Then as he slowly got up, it like I was tuning through a radio, I hear a screeching static clear up. The sound then becomes like an electronic bleating and bellowing from a goat, in-sync, surrounding him.

-

This was the moment I became a part of their their collective conscious conversation - essentially telepathy.

Then they began letting me know who they were. Saying that they were angels, that they were around before us and that I can be like them.

-

The whole time they were talking to me, they were trying to weaken and hypnotize me with hand signs - trying to convince me to let go. Thing is, when they did try to convince me, they’d always talk around the subject at hand...but once you know what the subject is, the situation becomes clear. 

-

A lot of people might think they’d get physical and get out of there. I just don’t think they’d understand how it is fighting sleep paralysis, awake. 

I also knew that one false move would take me to the ‘sunken place.’

-

I knew I couldn’t just stand there though. But right before I grab the door to get to the elevator, (Dave) says “okay, you gon’ be waiting on that elevator forever; this is a REAL trip…c’mon, I thought you liked this shit, right?” 

Mockingly he asked “yeah, I guess you gon’ think twice about taking LSD again huh?”

-

I was thinking in my head “fuck, did I really just lose my soul? Is this how it happens to people? Is this where it all ends for me?”

I thought that was it, so I was about to give in and accept the offer - see what benefits I could get, if any. I figured living a worldly lifestyle would be better than dying immediately.

-

Then from there, every time we almost sealed the deal, I would feel a hungry fire approach me from behind. Almost like a burning lick.

The one time I decided to look for where it was coming from, I got a vision with an glowing orange blur in it - slowly materializing, until I could make something out of it. Then with the bit that I saw, I knew it was me being swallowed by fire and not dying. 

-

Immediately after, almost as if I had touched the flames themselves, I yelled in confusion “What? No! Yeshua Hamashiach is my Lord and Savior!”

To which (Dave) nonchalantly responds “okay, you do that...that [N-word] died a long time ago.” 

I sharply look at him with disgust and continued my prayer.

Mentioning to God that He promised He would never abandon His children if they encountered evil and that if there was a way for Him to save me, to do it.

-

Dave says that I’m blowing his trip and leaves to the gas station.

I could’ve left then and there, but I still didn’t want to be alone in an elevator with him. There's no telling what he has under his sleeve or how I might react in while in there.

-

So as I’m praying, I begin to feel the dark hold they had on my heart loosen up. It was like my heart was pumping physical light throughout my body, then all around it. I could feel the forcefield - the LORD had arrived and I could move my body freely. No more fear in taking the wrong step.

-

So on (Dave’s) way back, (Robin) announces it and says let’s go downstairs and get him. That’s when I hear (Dave) say - not yell, “open up” from all the way downstairs and I was amazed...I asked myself “wait, can he still hear me?” 

With him responding “DUH! Damn, you some shit!” and continued on his way. Then it all came to me, I'm sure hidden witches and warlocks communicate like this whenever they encounter one another. Whether it be at parties, art shows or even churches...a fleeting thought, but a concrete one nonetheless.

-

So back to us going to get (Dave) - if I was to leave, this was going to be my chance.

In the elevator she tries enchanting me again, but I rebuked every attempt. She seemed so confident with a huge smile, as if she already won the battle. 

But I’m trying to maintain focus the best that I can, so I don’t slip - which made this elevator ride unnecessarily more intense than it needed to be.   

-

Once the elevator door finally opens, I see (Dave’s) silhouette behind a thick glass rail, carrying an ominous slouch. 

Walking towards me, he notices that I’ve calmed down. I guess he expected me to be spazzing out, screaming about devils and spirits...I already knew how that would make me look though. So when he sees my face, he smiles and asks “oh, you’re good now?”

I guess he assumed the process was complete...

-

Instead, I replied “yeah, I’m not with this goofy shit y'all got goin' on”

So as I’m walking towards the exit, he yells “that’s not the way out!”

To where I respond “fuck y’all!”

-

You would’ve thought I opened the door before touching it, the way I left out so fast. 

As that door closed, I did a little jog to get across the street. 

But a few seconds later, I feel this tingle in the back of my brain (specifically the medulla oblongata), as though it had neck hairs that stood up. 

I look over my shoulder and noticed he decided to follow me…of course. Shortly after I noticed him - with that bull-like slouch, he started to run. 

-

Now I was a little ahead of him, so I didn’t start running yet. I had to make sure I knew where I was going before exerting my energy.

Every time I moved my head, I could feel the tingle coming from his direction like a compass always pointing North. 

So there was no losing him, at least not easily - but I am fast.

-

I couldn’t call a ride because my phone was dead and I couldn’t go to anyone’s house at the time, because it was around 5am.

As (Dave) got closer, I felt my vision going black and my body getting heavy again. A lot stronger this time…time to kick it into high gear.

-

Once it clicks into my head that the easiest place to catch a taxi in such a heated moment would be in Adams Morgan, an opportunity presented itself.

-

Ahead of me was a crosswalk and the orange hand was counting down it’s last seconds. Everything I ever learned told me I wasn’t going to make it, but I wasn’t going to stop running either.

-

So when my foot lands off the sidewalk, is when the cars to my left and right begin to move. 

That’s when everything moved in-slow-motion…and a burst of energy launched me across the street. I saw that moment like a painting in my mind. Sweat with streetlight reflections, my hair slightly messy, clothes moving with the wind, chain dancing and molecular debris falling from my shoes. 

-

That moment bought me time because the cars acted as a barrier as soon as I made it, so he was stuck across the street for a little bit. But he didn't give up. This is when I start hearing scribbly garbles rolling and jumping off of buildings and into my ear “you acting like a lil bitch - come back!”

Perfectly delivered as if he was next to me…I look behind me and it’s like he hasn’t broke a sweat. Completely focused, but still plenty of distance.

-

From the gas station diagonal to the 9:30 Club (where Robin lives), to the McDonald’s in Adam’s Morgan...

My body wanted to give out most of the way, but soul wouldn’t allow it.

I just had to keep running until I found a taxi - which I did. I was going to live to tell the tale; I had to.

-

That’s when Dave caught up, yelling “you look like a unk right now!” 

Because 4 taxis stopped for me coming from each direction in that intersection.

To where I respond “I don’t give a fuck, I made it out and you mad as shit!” 

I get in the car and tell the taxi driver to head towards Maryland. I’ll give him the address on the highway.

-

Finally, after surviving a living nightmare, I made it home. 

I went to my room, played some worship music, got on my knees and wrung myself out of tears to the Lord.

-

Unable to sleep because I knew they could contact me in my dreams.

So I didn’t rest until the drug wore off, which was on the next day in the afternoon…

I even felt that burn on my back as if it was sunburn for the next couple of weeks after.

-

I’m so grateful to still be alive and myself, because I’m 100% positive I’d be in Hell (with something else in my vessel) if I didn’t call on God that night.

It was like I was tiptoeing on a needlepoint to keep my soul.

-

Since then, I've been learning a lot more to keep myself more spiritually fortified and spreading my experience in hopes of leading others into a life of light into the hands of the Lord. I hope this story can do something positive for whoever comes across it, so feel free to share to those you love. God bless you.

[neon-junkie]

Five-oh-Thirst

Summary: The 501st boys have finally reached their breaking point; they just HAVE to have you, and Jesse makes it his mission to recruit you into their shenanigans. After a night out at 79's, you're spoilt by a handful of Troopers, and a Captain who's late to the party.

Pairing: Female Jedi Reader x Rex, Jesse, Fives, Kix, Hardcase, Dogma & Tup

Word count: 12k

Tags: Shameless smut, Gangbang, Drinking, Double penetration, Praise kink, Voyeurism, Military names, Aftercare, Morning after pill.

Notes: this is so fucking slutty and i loved writing every second of it >:) sorry if some of the boys are a little OOC, im still new to writing these hotties. Tumblrs formatting is shite, so i’d suggest reading this on AO3 (under the same username.)

To say that you're 'close' with the 501st is an understatement. Close isn't quite the word you could use to describe the bond you have with this boisterous bunch of clones. You may be their Commander, but you're also a friend, and soon to be a lover. You've had your fair share of drunken nights out with the lot, getting rowdy in 79's, dragging each other's asses home, falling asleep in cuddle piles in their barracks. Yes, you shouldn't be mingling like this with your squad, but it's hard to not get so attached.

Anakin has warned you over and over about both your attachment and feelings, but you've seen the way he talks to them, Rex specifically. Anakin has let his emotions lead him whenever his men are hurt or in danger, and maybe that's why he always gives you a wink during his lectures. He knows what it's like, and he's only attempting to follow the Jedi code, teaching you in the process.

Speaking of Jedi codes, apparently rocking up to the Jedi cruiser bridge with a cup of caf in hand is something to be frowned upon. What? you're tired, and it's not like Anakin has asked his men to get him a cup of caf before. Obi-wan has done this exact same thing also! So, because you're a Padawan, you're not allowed to do it? Sheesh. The hypocrisy.

Despite Anakins disproving glare, the briefing continues flawlessly, as does the mission. Luck must have been on your side, or the force, depending on what you believe in. The Separatists crawled away with their tails between their legs, leaving the planet Naboo alone once more.

A course is set for Coruscant, and the Jedi cruiser launches into hyperspace, taking roughly seven hours to return home. That time is yours to do as you please, and you decide that a nap is in order.

Walking to your quarters takes a good ten minutes, seeing as how large this cruiser is. You travel down an array of corridors, having Troopers stop and salute you as you pass. It's a touching gesture, but sometimes you hate being the centre of attention. You understand that, to the clones, it's a sign of respect, one that they hold dearest in their hearts; you tried to get them to stop once, and only insulted them in the process, so you swiftly gave up and let them continue.

One Trooper in particular calls out your name from behind, and you rotate to see ARC Trooper Jesse approaching, his helmet tucked under his arm, and his other hand salutes you as he approaches. "Commander, do you have a minute?"

"For you, Jesse? Always," you say with a smile.

That smile is mirrored right back at you, and Jesse gestures for you to step down a quiet corridor to talk in private. He doesn't speak up at first, scratching the back of his neck nervously, but you allow him to take his time. Whatever's on the tip of his tongue must be really important.

"Commander, this is a... strange request to make," Jesse begins, and looks for your approval before continuing.

"Go on."

"Well, the boys and I were talking... and uh, you know how we like to de-stress by going to 79's?" Jesse mutters, keeping his voice quiet.

"Yes?" you question, nodding at the same time.

"And by de-stress, we like to... you know, pick up women there," Jesse shrugs, avoiding eye contact as he speaks.

Something in your gut informs you that you know what's coming next, and it explains why Jesse is stalling his request so much. You continue nodding as he speaks, squinting your eyes ever so slightly, suspicious of where this is heading.

"We've been uh, wanting to invite... you along, but we're not sure if that follows your erm, codes?" Jesse pulls the most panicked expression as he finally spits the words out. You think you know what he's asking, but you'll need to dig a little deeper, just to be certain.

"Going to 79's in the first place is against my Code... I think?" you reply, uncertain on what the Jedi code says about nightclubs and getting drunk with clones. "I thought you would know by now that I bend the rules in my favour, without others knowing, of course."

"Oh, that's a relief," Jesse sighs, and removes his hand from his neck. "I mean, you shouldn't, but we all break some rules here and there, don't we?"

"Yeah," you say with a shrug. "What exactly are you asking from me, Jesse? Be clear with your words, Trooper," you order in a teasing manner, noticing how the tip of Jesse's ears turn pink at your words.

"How about... the next time we all go out for drinks, we... take you back instead of some random woman?"

Oh.

There's a heated knot in your stomach, twisting and turning at the thought of sleeping not only with Jesse, but a handful of men. They're all attractive in their own unique ways, and you applaud them for how they create their individuality, through hairstyles, facial hair, and tattoo's. Not only does it make them easier to identity, but it really helps express their personality, and how they may act on the battlefield.

And the thought of having a bunch of these handsome men taking care of you? Who would say no to that?

"Who do you mean by 'we'?" you question out of curiosity.

"Uh, well, it depends on who comes out with us. I mean, all the boys have spoken about it, and all of them are down," Jesse shrugs, and rubs the back of his neck once more.

They've spoken about this? All of them? You must be quite the catch.

"Why? Is there someone you want to avoid?" Jesse then questions, and you instantly shake your head in response.

"No, I'm just curious. I... didn't know you all felt that way towards me," you sheepishly reply, and Jesse flashes you a concerned expression.

"You're kidding me, right? Have you noticed the way we all speak to you? The way we are around you? Even General Skywalker has told us multiple times to cool it," Jesse nervously laughs, clutching his helmet tighter.

You laugh with him, your mind replaying many incidents where the boys have let it slip. Kix has made multiple inappropriate jokes as he's been patching you up. Hardcase is always offering his lap as a seat whenever you're at 79's, and that's an offer that you may need to finally take up. Dogma will attempt to follow the code, but you've caught him staring at your ass more than once. Fives is Fives, and that's all that needs to be said. And Tup is too shy to make any bold moves, but you can tell he has a soft spot for you, as his face turns bright red whenever you're within ten feet of him.

As for Rex and Jesse, they flirt when it's appropriate, meaning when they're not in earshot of General Skywalker.

"Now that you mention it..." your words trailing off, thinking about all those moments.

"See," Jesse points. "So, are you in?" he questions, scrunching his face up in fear of rejection.

"As long as you boys can share," you instruct, knowing what they're like. "I'm in."

Jesse fist pumps the air as he lets out a "yesss!" but swiftly attempts to cool it, trying to not let his excitement burst. "I'll let the men know. We were planning on heading out tonight?" Jesse offers.

"I'll be there," you smile. "Make sure you and your men look good for me, Trooper," you playfully order.

"Of course, Commander," Jesse nods, and allows you to end the conversation there. If you're going out later, then you definitely need that nap right now. Jesse lands a cheeky slap on your bum as you turn to walk off, and you flash him a smile over your shoulder, heading down the corridor to your quarters.

----------

Could this be considered a date? or just an arranged hookup with a bunch of men? Either way, you're using the night as an excuse to dress up, not that you need an excuse to begin with.

That nap does wonders for you, although it could be considered more of a sleep, since as you woke up, you were arriving back on Coruscant. It's mid-afternoon, giving you plenty of time to get ready for tonight. Upon arrival, you take a trip downtown to purchase something to wear for tonight, and you have just the right outfit in mind.

The dress is ever-so-slightly out of your price range, but you know it'll be worth it. The 501st take pride in their colour, blue, and you know their jaws will drop when they see you in their colour. The dress fits the way you like it, bold and flashy, enough to turn more than your legion's heads. You pair the dress with some white heels and a bag, Trooper colours all around; you're really milking it, but Maker, don't you look good!

Hours later and you're ready for tonight, checking yourself out in your apartment mirror. You're fortunate to have your own place outside of the Jedi temple; it's tiny and run down, but enough to get you away whenever you need it. Sadly, it's far too small to fit a handful of clones in, so the barracks will have to do.

One taxi later, and you're outside 79's, queueing up to enter the busy club. Happy hour has just begun as you enter, and you remove the comlink from your bag, pressing a button to inform your men that you've arrived.

Nervously, you gaze around the club, ignoring the random sets of eyes on you. You're only after one group of men, and thankfully, one of them approaches you.

"Commander?" Kix calls out. As you turn to look at him, his face lights up, gesturing to the outfit you're wearing. "Oh, Commander!" Kix sighs, gawking over the sight of you in his legions colours.

"Not too much?" you question, gesturing to the outfit.

"No, it's just right," Kix sighs yet again. "And I like the white heels and bag, nice touch!"

Of course Kix has noticed those minor details.

"Where are the others?" you question, and Kix offers you his arm in response. You take it, following Kix through the club, eventually coming across a cosy booth, full to the brim with your boys.

Kix's reaction to your outfit was sweet and wholesome, something you'd expect from him. Fives on the other hand is hollering like a dog as you approach, checking you out with a whistle, doing everything he can to hype you up. "Commander," he purrs, and wraps an arm around your waist. "Here for me?" he jokingly questions, making you laugh at his forwardness.

"She came here for all of us!" Dogma butts in, swatting at Fives's hand around your waist.

"Oh, so you are joining in, Dogma? I didn't think you were one to break the rules," Fives bites back, and gestures for you to take a seat as he talks.

"This is different, Fives," Dogma mutters. You zone out to their bickering as you shuffle around the booth, finding a seat between Hardcase and Tup.

Tup, like the sweetheart he is, quietly tells you "you look beautiful," with flushed cheeks. Only for Hardcase to add "yeah, you look hot!"

It's hard to believe that these men are all clones. Their reactions are so vast, but they all express the same thing - you look good, and no doubt, they're going to be all over you tonight. They look just as good as you do, maybe even better; they've dressed up for tonight, sporting fine button-up shirts, all of them looking clean and tidy, for once, not covered in dirt from the battlefield.

Jesse offers to buy your first round, and insists that you stay at the booth with the others. He probably fears that another batch of clones will latch onto you the second you stand up. Are the men in here aware that you're a Jedi? Or do they assume you're some poor, unfortunate soul, who's been sucked into spending the night with this bunch? You're hoping for the second assumption, as the last thing you want is some tattle-tale clone recognizing you and ratting you out to the Jedi order.

Jesse returns with your drink and a round of shots, and so, the night begins. The shot is surprisingly nice, as is your drink, but the next set of shots? Eh, not so much. It seems that the more you drink, the worst the shots taste, and you have to turn down the fourth one. You're not going to be standing if you continue chugging drinks at this rate; how your men can drink like this is beyond you.

Dogma and Tup have relaxed in their own way, joining in the conversation every so often, although Dogma is still being teased for 'breaking so many rules.' Hardcase and Fives are as loud as each other, and are currently attempting to impress you through a series of arm wrestling matches. Jesse seems content, on a nice, tipsy level, and has had his eyes on you all night. Kix is simply vibing, not visibly drunk, but bubblier than usual.

You continue peering around, questioning who's missing, and then it suddenly dawns on you.

"Wait a minute! Where's Rex?" you yelp, noticing the lack of a certain blonde clone.

"You've got all of us here, and the only man on your mind is the Captain?" Fives tuts, breaking his concentration from the arm wrestling match. Hardcase takes up the opportunity to take victory, slamming Fives's hand down onto the table.

"Yet again, I am victorious!" Hardcase states, and Fives sputters at his remark.

"That's not fair! Our Commander was asking us a question," Fives argues, and the pair begin bickering between themselves.

You decide to intervene, turning to Hardcase and asking "so, what would you like as your prize?"

Your question is met with a sea of "oooh!"'s and "pick something good, Hardcase!" His face alone is priceless, his emotions switching between shocked, flustered, and cheeky. Hardcase then trails into thought, and after barely any thinking time, he settles on his prize. "For you to finally take up my offer and sit on my lap, sweetheart," he replies, patting his thighs as he talks.

A smirk escapes your lips as you stand, shuffling over to sit on the tattooed clones lap. Hands find their way to your waist, and you're almost certain that Hardcase is purring as he cuddles up to you.

"How is she?" Kix questions, as if you're not sitting in earshot of his question.

"Comfiest ass in the galaxy," Hardcase hums, pulling you higher onto his lap as he speaks. He settles his chin on your shoulder, fine stubble pressed against your skin, and from the expressions of those around you, you can tell that they're all jealous. They'll have their time with you eventually, whether it's here, or at the barracks later. The night is still young.

"My turn," Dogma announces out of nowhere, shuffling out of the booth. None of you have any idea what he's on about, until he turns to you and asks "what are you drinking, Commander?"

You tell him your order, followed up with "and stop calling me Commander! We're not at work, you don't need to call me that."

Dogma apologizes with a soft laugh before making his way over to the bar, followed by Jesse and Kix.

"Is it bad that I kinda like calling you it?" Fives questions, and you know exactly what he's implying.

"The only places you should be calling me Commander is on the battlefield, and in the bedroom," you purr, and you're met with a fawning, lustful expression from Fives, who is more than satisfied at your answer.

"Yes, Ma'am," he purrs back, and you take a mental note for later.

"You know, none of you answered my question," you begin, and the rest of the clones look at you in confusion. "Where is Rex?"

"He said he's busy with a meeting, and that he'll meet us at the barracks later," Fives explains, softly shrugging as he speaks. In Fives' eyes, that means one there's one less clone for you to give your attention to, meaning more for him.

"That's a shame," you sigh. The thought of Rex being here right now is a curious topic on your mind; would he attempt to maintain his high-ranking status, remaining professional despite knowing what's going to happen later? Or would he throw all of that out of the window, taking the first opportunity to straddle you onto his hips and remind his men who's in charge?

"Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll take good care of you whilst the Captain's gone," Hardcase smugly comments, placing a gentle kiss to your shoulder as he eyes you up.

Hardcase stays true to his word, as do the rest of your men. Dogma, Jesse, and Kix return shortly after with the next round of drinks, and lo-and-behold, more shots. You have entered the stage of tipsy, sitting on the drunken fence by the time you finish your drink. Hardcase offers to buy the next round, but you brush him off, insisting that it's your turn. "Since you're all taking care of me, the least I can do is return the favour," you explain, and a few of the men chuckle at your reasoning.

Tup, the sweetheart that he is, helps you up and over to the bar. You're able to walk, even in these heels, but you know that Tup's presence is actually a way of telling others clones that you're already taken for. To your surprise, his hand settles around your waist as you prop yourself up against the bar top, waiting for somebody to come and serve you.

"How's your night going?" Tup questions. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Yeah, are you?" you reply with a nod, curling up into Tup's side.

"Mhm," Tup nods in agreement. "I just need a few more drinks down me," he adds, and you understand how he feels. If you weren't the centre of attention, then you'd be just as quiet as Tup is, shying away nervously in the cornerless booth.

"Let me get one for you," you offer, and Tup takes you up on it.

"Thank you, Comma- I mean, uh, love." Tup's expression turns sour, blushing at his fumbled reply. You brush the nerves off him by placing a kiss on his cheek, and watch in amazement as his face begins turning a different shade of red.

Tup mutters something to you, and you almost miss his words over the volume of the music. "You missed," he boldly states. Tup's definitely stolen that line from Fives, or has been taught it - either way, it's something Fives would say, and you know how close those two are.

"Oh?" you cheekily sigh. You're about to follow it up, until the bartender arrives, pulling your attention away from the clone.

Once your order is placed, you turn back to Tup, wanting to finish where you left off. He looks at you, then looks away, pulling an embarrassed face. Your fingertips are placed below Tup's chin, gently turning his head to face you, and before Tup can say anything, you lean in to kiss him.

Tup freezes up, before melting into the kiss, moving his head to fit against yours. A hand finds its way to the back of your neck, holding you there, as if to reassure himself that yes, this really is happening. Tup's kisses match his personality, sweet and gentle, but the tongue that slides across your lower lip suggests there's more to him than meets the eye.

You can overhear the sounds of cheering in the background, and you just know that it's coming from your men. You break away, not to be rude, but because you don't want the poor bartender to be stood there awkwardly as you're busy snogging a clone. Thankfully, they arrive moments later, and you two soon return to the booth with drinks and shots in hand.

Fives applauds his vod as Tup sheepishly sits down, and you go to take a seat beside him, until Jesse pulls you onto his lap. "You've had enough fun with him, come and give us some attention!" he playfully nips, and follows his statement up with a kiss on your neck.

"There's plenty of me to go around," you bite back, wiggling your hips slightly, grinding your ass on Jesse's lap. He sighs heavily at your move, wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you there.

You turn your attention to the drinks that you just brought, downing yet another shot, and washing it down with your beverage.

Minutes later, and you're really starting to feel the liquor running through your veins, as well as the undying urge to dance. Jesse is willing, and Hardcase lets you two know that he'll meet you over there, once he's gone and used the refresher. The rest of the clones stay seated, to your surprise, but then again, they don't seem like the type to dance. Well, Fives possibly, but he's barely able to stand, let alone dance, and Kix is nursing him back to soberness with many glasses of water.

Jesse follows you over to the dance floor, your hand in his, and it's busier than you expected. The dance floor is mostly full of clones and their squadrons, all celebrating various victories and whatnot, with a few women lingering about. You understand by now that women only come to this bar to pick up the clones, and can you blame them? Bless the Kaminoans for picking out Jango Fett to be their donor, as his genetics are excelling in all departments.

"My turn with you already?" Jesse questions as he begins dancing with you, swaying in time with the music.

"We've only been here for a few hours. I thought you'd be more patient?" you tease, and Jesse gives you a look.

"I'm patient when I want to be, sweetheart," Jesse shrugs. "But for you? I've been waiting a long time for this," he explains as he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist.

The tattooed clone smiles down at you, and the glisten in his eyes informs you that his patience truly is running thin. But how long will it be before it runs out? Or how much can you rile him up before he breaks?

"I'm sure you can wait a little longer," you flirt back, trailing your hand along his shirt, fingertips gliding over each of his buttons. You meet his collar and hook a finger over the fabric, gently pulling his head down to your level.

Jesse smirks as he replies "I don't think I can," before pressing his lips to yours. You can tell that Jesse's patience is running thin from the way he kisses you, hungry and lustful, playfully nipping at your lower lip. Your hands wrap around his neck, and you have to remind yourself that you left your bag with the others - that's why your hands are empty.

The hands on your waist trail down to your ass, and Jesse boldly grabs more than a handful, pulling your body tightly against his as he kneads your ass. You break the kiss with a yelp, and remind yourself that you're still in public, thankfully with no eyes set on you. "Jesse!" you playfully swat him, and he chuckles against your skin as his lips trail over your neck.

"You started without me!" A disappointed voice calls out, and warmth appears against your back.

Hardcase has returned from the refresher, pouting because the party has apparently started without him. Jesse moves his hands back to your waist, almost as if he's giving permission for Hardcase to press his crotch against your ass, sandwiching you between the two, tattooed clones. Your cheeks quickly turn red, and you must look more flustered than you feel, as the face that Hardcase and Jesse send each other informs you that they have something planned.

"So," Hardcase begins, his eyes flicking down to yours. "When are we taking you back?"

"Soon?" you nervously reply, questioning your own motives. It's hard to concentrate with an uneven sea turning in your stomach, but the liquor is thankfully helping - you'd be a lot more flustered if you were sober right now.

"Soon?" Jesse repeats, raising a brow at your reply. "Why not now, sweetheart?" he asks.

"Yeah," Hardcase nods, and then dips his head down to kiss along your neck. His kisses trail up to your ear, nipping at that sensitive spot behind it before stating "you look like you need us to fill you up."

A bold, yet true statement, but you're unsure if you want to leave just yet. Do you want to continue your teasing here? Or click your fingers and order your men to take you home and fuck you?

"She's thinkin' about it," Hardcase states, directing his words to Jesse.

"We know what you're thinking, babe, and we think that you've teased us enough already," Jesse says to you, and kneads his hands on your waist, picking and pulling at the fabric of your dress. Bold of him to assume what you're thinking - you're the Jedi here, not him. Either way, his thoughts are true. You have teased them enough, but there's no harm in drawing it out just a little longer, is there?

Jesse steals a kiss from you again, and you can feel him smiling as you let out a soft moan. Hardcase continues kissing up your neck, rutting his semi-hard cock against your ass; his lips wander down below your neckline, and he bites and sucks at your skin, leaving a purple blotch behind. It's in just the right place, an area where your Jedi robes will cover it up, but if you want to tease him on the battlefield, all you need to do is pull back at the thin layer of clothing, revealing his mark.

Just as Hardcase is about to kiss your neck again, a voice calls out "get a room!"

Oh yeah, you're doing all this on the dance floor of 79's. Whoops. Jesse pulls away and chuckles at the strangers remark. "See? Even he thinks we should get going," he states, and you finally agree to make a move.

Jesse leads you off the dance floor, and Hardcase keeps his hand comfortably around your waist. You wander back over to the booth, picking your drink up off the table and finishing it off. "It's time, boys!" Hardcase states, grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh?" Fives looks over to you, flashing you a cheeky grin. It seems the many glasses of water on the table have finally brought him back to a stable level; Kudos to Kix for dealing with him.

Tup passes you your bag as he shuffles off the sofas, and you thank him by pulling him down for a quick kiss. You break away with a soft laugh as you hear Fives complain "where's mine, huh?"

"You can get it when we're in the taxi," you explain.

Fives swats Hardcase's arm from around your waist, replacing it with his own, and mouths the words "my turn," to Hardcase, who simply laughs at his eagerness. You and Fives take the lead, exiting the club with your squad following behind.

--------

The ride back to the barracks is... eventful, as is entering the barracks itself. Jesse and Kix walk ahead, pretending to be drunker than they actually are so they can distract the guards with their very existence. The rest of you sneak by, sheltered by a wall of horny clones, and you're ushered into their dorm.

The second you step foot into the room, Fives is all over you. With his hands on your hips, he leads you over to the wall, pushing you up against it and locking his lips with yours. Fives's hand trails up to grab your bag, pulling it from your grasp, and chucking it onto a nearby bed, leaving your hands free to wrap around his neck. He's impatient and needy, hungrily kissing you, his hands struggling to find a single place to rest; they slide over your waist, down your back, and grab at your ass, before trailing up and repeating the process all over again.

"Kriff, calm down. She's not going anywhere," one of his vods comments. Kix possibly?

Fives ignores the comment and continues turning your legs into jelly, making up for all his apparent 'lost time.' When he does finally pull away, he's grinning. His pupils are blown, full of lust, eyeing you up like a piece of meat, until somebody swats him away.

"I'm the one who proposed this to her, so I get first dibs," Jesse intervenes. There's something thrilling about the way they're speaking about you, as if you're not there, as if you're their property. In some ways, you are theirs - you have always been theirs - but only tonight have things finally taken a step forward.

Somebody has dimmed the lights, enough to set the mood, but still light enough that you can see what's happening, and so can everyone else. Everybody's watching as Jesse leads you over to what you assume is his bunk, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap. Your knees fall onto either side of his hips, spreading your legs, your dress hiking up your thighs.

Jesse places his hands on your waist, holding you as his lips take over from where Fives left off. As he kisses you, he pulls down on your waist, grinding you over his semi-hard cock, reminding you of what's to come. You feel the hem of your dress slip up slightly over your ass, and one of the clones sighs at the small teaser.

Jesse knows what his vods are after, so his hands trail up your back, finding the zip. He slowly unzips your dress, taking his time to reveal what lies beneath, and breaks the kiss so he can pull your dress over your head, discarding it on the bunk next to him.

Needless to say, the air is filled with an array of praise, mutters and moans at the sight of you. You're straddling the ARC Trooper in your underwear and heels, now being freed of your bra. Jesse groans as your tits fall free, and moves his lips down your body, along your neck, over your collarbone, until he latches onto a nipple.

You feel something tug at your foot, and peer over your shoulder to see Hardcase removing your heels; he's polite (and sober) enough to place them down neatly, rather than tossing them to the floor, or worse, throwing them at his vods. Hardcase then stands up, peering over you, and prevents your lips from feeling lonely. He keeps your mouth occupied, whilst Jesse flicks between both of your tits, and both of them find their way to your panties.

"Need to get these off you," Hardcase mutters against your lips. Hardcase hooks his fingers around one strap, Jesse has the other, and the pair slowly slide them off you, moving with your body as you shuffle from Jesse's lap to remove them. You're left naked in a room full of your men, the men that have served under you for a few years now, but it seems that Jesse is the one taking the lead tonight.

"C'mere," Jesse mutters as he manhandles you off his lap. He shimmies around and lays down, his head at the foot of the bed, feet resting against his headboard. Jesse pats his shoulders before making grabby motions with his hands, signalling for you to climb aboard.

With one knee on either side of Jesse's face, you straddle him. Despite the alcohol still pumping through your system, you're still nervous, exposing yourself fully to your men. They're all reacting positively, a few of them palming themselves through their smart pants. Your nervousness doesn't stay for long, being brushed away as Jesse pulls your cunt down onto his face.

He licks a firm stripe over your pussy, followed by a few more curious ones, before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. You yelp, instinctively grinding down on Jesse's face, and he seems to like it from the hum he lets out. "Kriff," you overhear one of the clones mutter, and you realize it's Fives when he pipes up with "go on, sweetheart. Fuck his face!"

Jesse nods against your cunt, and the squad seems eager for a show, so, why not?

Firm hands hold onto your thighs, steadying you as you begin rocking back and forth over Jesse's tongue. He's flattened it out nicely, and at this angle, you're able to brush your clit over the wet muscle, grinding oh-so-perfectly. The room is filled with soft words of encouragement, "that's it, doll," and "keep going for us!"

You feel bad that Jesse isn't receiving anything in return, so whilst sitting on his face, you begin unfastening his pants, eventually freeing his cock.

Oh, thank the Maker for those yummy Jango Fett genes.

Jesse is thick, leaking with precum, slightly red at the tip. If he's thick, then that means the rest of them are thick... you're in store for quite a treat.

With one hand barely wrapped around Jesse's cock, you begin pumping his already hard length, earning a whimper from the man beneath you. Your hips have slowed in pace, and Jesse urges you to speed up by grabbing your hips and moving them for you. He takes over, fucking you onto his face for a few moments before steadying your hips again, and wrapping his lips around your clit instead.

You yelp, pumping Jesse's cock faster, and he lets out a similar pleasant sound. Another hand appears on your body, and you peer over your shoulder to see Hardcase grabbing your ass, kneading at your cheeks, playing with them. "Got room for one more?" he questions, eyeing you up.

"Uh-huh," you say with a nod.

Hardcase flashes you a cheeky grin before moving his head down to kiss over your cheeks, lightly biting at each mound, moving from one cheek to the other. Every time it feels like he's getting close to your entrance, he moves across to the other cheek, teasing you with a smile on his lips. You're half tempted to push back onto his face, but he beats you to it by running his tongue over your rim, circling your entrance curiously.

Hardcase doesn't hold back, attacking your entrance with his tongue, his hands kneading at each cheek. Jesse continues flicking his tongue against your clit, and a hand is removed from your thigh; fingertips brush over your pussy, slicking themselves up, before a finger slides into you, not stopping until he reaches his knuckle.

Jesse slowly begins working you open, not that you need it much, considering your heavy arousal. Hardcase notices and takes the hint, wetting his finger in his mouth before pressing the pad against your entrance. He circles your ass a few times, relaxing the muscle, before slowly and gently pushing in. Unlike Jesse, Hardcase takes his time, working with your body to slowly open your ass up.

Your hand continues sloppily pumping Jesse's length, just enough to keep him satisfied; you want to do more, but your thoughts and feelings are already occupied. Just when you think you can't take any more, another clone comes into your line of sight, and asks you those exact words as he knees down in front of you.

"Can you take any more?" Kix questions, eyeing you up, reading your body language.

"Uh-huh," you nod once more, and Kix seems content with your approval.

He plants a light kiss on your lips before standing, and works on unfastening his pants, revealing yet another thick cock for your pleasure. You know exactly what Kix is after, so you open your mouth, awaiting him; he lets out a groan at the sight, and slips his cock past your lips, the underside brushing over your tongue.

Both of your hands are occupied, with one propping your weight up, and the other pumping Jesse; so, you make do with your mouth, sucking him to the best of your ability, and despite being slightly sloppy, Kix seems more than satisfied. He's an understanding man who can clearly see how busy you are.

And oh kriff, you sure are busy.

An orgasm is sitting on the fence, waiting for that final push. Jesse slips another finger into you, curling them and searching for that sweet spot. He knows he's found it when he overhears a muffled moan, and your moan seems to echo, as one of the clones groans at the sight of you. Hardcase removes his finger from your ass, slipping his tongue in and tongue-fucking your small gape, slicking you up so he can begin pushing two fingers in. Like before, he goes slow, understanding the stretch and burn that you're feeling right now.

Hardcase, within time, reaches his knuckles, and gently works his fingers in and out of you. That sensation, added with Jesse's fingers in you, and lips around your clit, is more than enough to have you cumming. You have to slip off Kix's cock to let out a shaky moan, thighs and body trembling as your orgasm takes you. Your forehead presses against Kix's thigh, eyes scrunched shut and mouth hanging open, and Kix soothes you by running his fingers through your hair, keeping it off your face.

You overhear Tup gasp, Dogma whine, and Fives cheer you on. "That's it, sweetheart," one of them encourages, but your mind is so hazy that you're not sure who it was. Either way, the words of encouragement are appreciated, as well as the soothing touches that Kix and Jesse are leaving over your body.

You soon come back around, still trembling from the intensity. Your eyes meet Kix's, who places a kiss on your forehead before settling down on the bunk beside you, muttering something about you having your hands full.

Curiously, you peer over your shoulder, and only then do you realize that Hardcase now has three fingers inside your ass. You're ready, and Hardcase flashes you a look that confirms it. "Wanna see what else we can do?" Hardcase questions, and you swiftly nod, accepting their advances.

Hardcase slowly slips his fingers from your ass, and works on removing his clothes. A kiss is planted on your inner thigh before Jesse gives you the signal to roll off, and you do so, letting the clone crawl out from beneath you. His face is soaked - no, drenched - and your juices have dribbled down over his chin, darkening the collar of his shirt.

"How do I look?" Jesse chuckles, before wiping his mouth and chin with his shirt sleeve. Taking Hardcase's idea, he too undresses, leaving you sat on your knees on his bunk.

Hardcase frees himself from his clothes first, and takes a seat beside you. He's about to get into position, until Fives calls out his protest. "You just had a go with her!" he whines.

"We'll be quick," Hardcase winks. He gets comfortable on the bunk, lying on his back, head pressed against the pillow. Hardcase makes a grabbing motion at you whilst mumbling "I want your ass," and with a laugh, you begin getting into position.

At first, you feel awkward and exposed, settling so your back is pressed to Hardcase's tattooed chest. He takes the lead, swinging your legs on either side of his, spreading you wide, and signalling for you to hold your hips up. Hardcase wraps his hand around the base of his cock and begins searching for your entrance, and with your help, he finds your ass.

"Go at your own pace, babe," Hardcase comments, and allows you to take your time sliding down onto his cock. Despite being prepped, Hardcase is still a stretch, slowly working your ass open. A mixture of groans fill the room as you slowly slide onto him, soon reaching his base, a gasp escaping your lips. "Beautiful," Hardcase comments, and reaches around to flick his fingers over your clit, attempting to help you relax.

"You ready for me?" Jesse questions, and all you can do is nod as nothing escapes your lips. Jesse shuffles up the bed, settling between your thighs. He slowly enters you, making a comment under his breath about how soaked your pussy is.

Jesse slides in with ease, holding his cock deep inside you, bottoming out. He awaits your signal before making a move, as does Hardcase, and when you give it, both the clones start slowly.  

Your head rolls back to rest on Hardcase's shoulder, and the tattooed clone places a kiss on your temple before turning his focus to bucking up into your ass. Jesse's speed is slightly faster, considering he's in an easier position, and fucking a looser hole. Either way, you're full to the brim, moaning and groaning for them as Hardcase continues flicking his fingers over your clit.

"Kriff, doesn't she look good?" you overhear Kix comment.

Dogma follows up with, "if only you could see yourself, Commander."

Commander, Kriff. That status somehow slipped your mind - you're their Commander, their superior, and your men are currently watching you be fucked, whilst queueing up to take their turn with you. Let's hope your Jedi training has paid off, as you're going to need an extra stern poker-face the next time you're in their presence, or worse, in the presence of your Master.

Jesse, from the sounds that he's making, doesn't seem like he's going to last long. In his defense, you have been pumping his cock this entire time, despite your handiwork being somewhat sloppy. Hardcase's hand on your clit brushes over the perfect spot, causing you to clench in response, and that is more than enough to bring Jesse to orgasm.

"Where?" he manages to blurt out.

"Inside," you order, and every single clone in the room groans at your reply.

Jesse is about to ask if you're certain, but his body gives up before he can speak. Jesse slides his cock as deep as he can, and fills you up, panting and groaning as he releases. He's a debauched, a sweaty mess, possibly still drunk from earlier. Once he's somewhat stable, he slips his cock from you, slowly shuffling off the bed and collapsing on a nearby bunk.

Hardcase kisses your neck, as if to remind you that he's still there, or warning you, since he moves his hands to hold beneath your knees, pulling your knees up against your shoulders, and begins fucking up into your ass.

Your legs are spread, displayed for the other clones to watch as Hardcase ensures that you won't be able to walk for weeks. He's a grunting, sputtering mess beneath you, groaning into the curve of your neck as he chases his release.

A few more thrusts and Hardcase is finishing in your ass, holding your body tight against his as he leaves his mark. You're almost certain you heard a few whimpers from him, meaning his orgasm must have been intense. Eventually, a sweaty Hardcase begins slipping himself from you, being gentle as he rolls you off his chest.

Hardcase has barely removed himself off the bunk before another clone calls out "I'm next," and you look in the direction of the voice to see Dogma slipping his clothes off.

"Dogma? You?" Tup questions.

"Yeah, me!" he states, pointing a finger to himself.

"I didn't think you would," Tup shrugs, and in Tup's defence, you agree with him.

"I thought you'd be the type to tell on us," an exhausted Jesse comments, still laying back on a nearby bunk, spread out and panting heavily.

"Even if he did, I don't think anybody would believe him," Fives adds with a laugh.

"Stop being so mean to him, Troopers. Dogma is just as welcome as everybody else," you defend, and the clone thanks you with a smile.

"As welcome as everybody else?" Fives repeats your word. "Kriff, Commander, I didn't realize you were inviting the entire Legion!" he jokes, and you roll your eyes at Fives's comment, twisting your words cheekily.

You ignore Fives's playful remark, turning your attention to Dogma instead, who's just about finished removing his shirt. "How do you want me, handsome?" you question.

Dogma's eyes light up at your little nickname, and he orders you to "get on your front, hands and knees, and face the boys."

Orders are orders, and you follow them without question. Dogma shuffles in behind you, kneading your ass for a few moments before wrapping his hand around his cock. You're already slick enough, with your own release smeared around your thighs, and a release in both holes, so Dogma doesn't bother using his own spit to slick up his cock. Instead, he glides his cock over your pussy, ensuring the tip of his cock flicks over your clit with every thrust, and once he's satisfied, he begins pushing into your ass.

You let out an "oh," as Dogma slides in, letting out a grunt as he bottoms out. With his hands on your hips, and the signal from you to continue, Dogma begins fucking your ass, gawking over the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing from you. "That's it," he mutters under his breath. "Kriff, you look so good for me."

"For us," Kix intervenes, and Dogma shoots him a grumpy glare.

Dogma is clearly trying to prove his vods wrong, showing them that he wants this, that he won't rat everybody out for breaking so many rules. His thrusts are heavy, the sound of your ass slapping against his pelvis fills up the room, pushing moans from your lips with every thrust. You can feel Hardcase's release slowly being pushed from your ass, settling around your rim, soon to be replaced with Dogmas.

You overhear someone shuffling about, and Kix soon appears in your line of sight. "I'm back," he says with a smile. "Care to continue where we left off?" Kix questions, and lets out a pleasant sigh when you nod in agreement.

This time, you have your hand free, and you wrap it around Kix's cock as the tip slips into your mouth. Dogma's not letting up his thrusts, pushing your head forwards with every roll of his hips, causing you to lightly gag on Kix's length. Kix seems to enjoy it, as do the viewers, and the sensation is alright for you; so, you continue, eventually letting Kix begin thrusting and fucking your mouth, his pace matching Dogmas.

Kix notices the lack of attention on your pussy, and leans forward, hand reaching out to dip beneath your body and help get you off, but Dogma swats his hand away. At first, you're insulted, as is Kix, until Dogma speaks up and explains his actions. "Let's see how long she can last without being touched," he cheekily states, and Kix flashes him a similar smile before looking down at you.

"Sorry, Commander. Orders are orders," Kix shrugs, and returns to fucking your mouth.

You let out a whine, as does Tup, who seems sympathetic at the lack of attention in your key areas. Fives, on the other hand, is hollering, "she won't last long. She'll be begging for it soon!"

Ugh, he's right. Despite already having an orgasm, you're chasing another, eager for that certain-something to help get you off. The more Dogma and Kix fuck you, the more your cunt burns, and when you try to remove your hand from Kix's cock, he wraps his hand around your wrist to prevent you from touching yourself, clicking his tongue with a disapproving "ah-ah!"

"Soon, sweetheart," Dogma says from behind you, and judging from the way his cock is twitching in your ass, you assume he's close.

Dogma picks up his pace, ruining your own pace on Kix's cock - or improving it, as Kix groans when you gag, spit pooling from the corners of your mouth. "So wet," Kix comments under his breath, and returns to fucking your mouth again, grunting and moaning with every thrust.

"Oh, Maker!" Dogma sighs as he pushes his cock as deep as it'll go. With his hands tightly around your hips, he earns his release, filling your ass with hot, sticky cum. Your moan is muffled from Kix's cock, who has slowed his thrusts, almost to a halt. Kix waits for Dogma to finish, and once he's slipped out, he manhandles you into a new position.

Kix rolls you onto your back, legs against the edge of the bed. He's clearly in a rush, his orgasm sitting on the edge, and he hurries to slide his cock into your pussy, one leg up on the bed, the other remaining on the floor.

Kix only thrusts a few times before bottoming out and cumming inside, his load mixing with Jesse's, who has finally perked up after passing out on another bunk. "Good girl," Kix mutters as the pad of his thumb presses to your clit, grinding in circles a few times. He's milking his release, slowly fucking you in a hazy post-orgasm state, biting his lip whenever you clench around his overstimulated cock.

When Kix can't take any more, he pulls out, and your clit is left unattended. You can feel his and Jesse's load leaking from you, and your eyes lock onto Tup, who was just eyeing up your cunt, his cheeks turning red at the sight of your sticky, cum soaked pussy.

"We're up, Tup!" Fives says with a laugh, patting his vod on the shoulder, snapping him out of his fixated state. Fives has the audacity to follow up his rhyme with finger guns, causing you to roll your eyes at the cheek of this man.

Tup lets out a "huh?" before realising that it's his turn to play with you. The pair are quick to strip off; Fives leaves his clothes strung over the floor, whilst Tup leaves his on his bunk. Just like the rest of your squad, they're hung, and your holes are already beginning to feel sore at the sight of them.

Fives motions for you to stand, and with extremely wobbly legs, you manage to get up, clinging onto Fives as you do so. "Tup, c'mere and help me out," Fives playfully orders, before turning his focus to you.

He bends down slightly, arms stretched out, and asks for you to wrap your legs around his waist. "Catch her if she falls, Tup," Fives comment, and you hear a soft "oh, kriff," from behind you.

Well, you don't fall. Your legs are wrapped around Fives's waist, hands around his neck, awaiting the next move. Five pauses, staring out into thin air, before realizing his mistake.

"Wait, I want to fuck your ass... Tup, you pick her up," Fives comments, and gently places you back down on the floor, only to spin you around so you're facing Tup instead.

"Idiot," Jesse mutters under his breath, and Fives glares at him over your shoulder.

Tup wraps his arms around your waist, and on his nod, you jump up into his lap. He moves your legs to wrap around his waist, ankles crossing over, and your hands trail up to settle on his shoulders, fingertips playing with his loose strands of hair. Tup, for some reason, is trembling, and you're uncertain if it's from your weight, or his nerves. A soothing kiss on his nose reveals that it's his nerves, as he begins to relax, and your weight is then shared between the two clones as Fives approaches you from behind.

Fives focuses on slipping his cock into your ass, before taking your weight off Tup, allowing him to slide up into your pussy. The pair bottom out, pulling you down onto their lengths, and find an even way to hold your weight, making it easier on everybody.

At first, the pair are an uneven, a sloppy mess, struggling to find the right rhythm. Despite their lack of sync, you're still enjoying yourself, but the second they finally sync up, it's game over. With your hands desperately clinging onto Tup's shoulders, you roll your head back against Fives's shoulder, moaning and groaning as the fuck you.

Tup lets out a sigh as he comments "you're so good for us," his hands kneading at your thighs around his waist.

"Isn't she just?" Fives smirks, and his hands on your ass give you a squeeze. "Poor Tup here looks like he's going to cum already," Fives bites at his vod, and Tup sends him a disappointed glare.

"Play nice, you two," you softly order, not wanting to be stuck in the middle of their play fight.

They let out a "yes, Commander," as their thrusts continue, the sound of synced up skin against skin echoing around the dorm room.

However, the sound of the door opening makes everybody jump out of their skin, and you all turn with wide eyes to see none other than Captain Rex entering the room. Fives and Tup come to a halt, Jesse sits up on his bunk, and everybody awaits Rex's move.

Rex, with a stern expression, reaches a hand out to press the lock button on the dorms' door. "You forgot to lock it," he states, then tuts and shakes his head, scolding his men for their sloppiness.

Rex is still in uniform, his helmet tucked under his arm. The sound of heavy footsteps slowly approaches you, Tup, and Fives, and all three of you watch as Rex comes to a halt in front of you. You gulp, despite being a higher ranking than Rex, and despite knowing that he is also in on this.

The expression Rex gives you sends a shiver down your spine; he raises a single brow, slowly eyeing all of you up and down, before his lips finally trail into a smirk. A gloved hand reaches out and finds its way between your legs, instantly settling over your clit. Rex begins to slowly rub your clit, the fabric of his gloves giving you that something extra, and he speaks up in his usual, bold, military tone.

"You've got to play with her as you're fucking her, boys," Rex states, smirking as he notices everybody's expressions drop, letting out sighs of relief. "How is she meant to cum if you're not focusing on the right areas?" Rex questions, and gestures for his men to pick up their pace again.

Fives and Tup begin bucking up into you again, still slightly nervous, but lust soon takes over and evens them out. Rex turns his full attention to you, and the deepness of his voice makes your pussy clench. "Have these men served you well?" he questions.

"They have," you mutter, nodding as you speak, eager to express your fondness.

"That's good to hear, Commander," the Captain smirks. His eyes stay glued to yours, and you can't bare to look away. His fingers are working wonders on your clit, and the sensation of Fives and Tup tending to you is swiftly becoming too much. Your breaths become quick and short, and your eyes struggle to stay open. Rex takes not and announces, "she's close, boys."

"Go on, show off for Rex," Fives says against your ear, and Tup nods along in agreement. A few more thrusts and you're clenching around their cocks, both men grunting and moaning as you up their sensation. Rex doesn't stop playing with your clit, at first, until your thighs begin to twitch from overstimulation; only then does he pull away, taking a step back and settling his hands on his hips after placing his helmet down on a nearby bunk.

Tup lets out a whine, and you can feel his cock twitching inside you. "Good boy, Tup," you direct your praise to him, and that alone is enough to make him cum. Tup buries his head into the curve of your neck, groaning against your skin as his load joins the others inside you, most of it oozing out past his cock and dripping to the floor.

"Kriff, guess it's my turn," Fives comments with a light laugh. He buries his head into your other shoulder, kissing and nipping at your skin as he continues fucking your ass. It doesn't take long for Fives to also cum, burying his length up to the base, and groaning when you twitch from overstimulation. "So karking good," Fives mutters, and repeats his compliment as he lifts his head off your shoulder, before kissing your cheek.

Slowly and steadily, the pair lower you, avoiding the slippy patches of cum on the floor that has dripped from both your holes. You're debauched, exhausted in every aspect, and undeniably cock-dumb as Rex approaches and asks "got room for your Captain?"

"Always," you steadily sigh. Rex chuckles at your eagerness, then gestures for you to get comfortable on a bunk.

You pick Jesse's bunk, seeing as it's already a mess, plus it's in the centre of everybody's line of sight. Knowing Rex, he'll want to make a show of this, turning it into some training exercise as a way of covering up what is really going on here.

You sit back on the bed, falling back onto your elbows, and watch as Rex approaches. He unfastens his codpiece, discarding it onto a nearby bunk, and pulls his semi-hard cock out from beneath his blacks. The Captain is clean-shaven, thick and girthy, another cock to add onto your 'reasons why I can't walk this week' list.

Rex slips his gloves off before pumping himself with one hand, the other reaching down to trail over your overly sensitive cunt. Gentle fingertips slide over your wet folds, and Rex spreads you apart, revealing the sticky mess leaking from your entrance. "I see they've been keeping you full," Rex comments as his fingers trail up to glide over your clit, pressing firmly and flicking over the bud.

"Very full," you nod along. Your eyes flick to Rex's cock, which is now hard, precum leaking like crazy. Rex notices the way you're looking at his length, and he stops pumping his shaft, holding at the base instead, as if to present it.

"Is this what you want?" he teasingly questions, causing you to shudder.

"Yes, Captain," you nod, and Rex lets out a satisfied sigh.

"Place the order, Commander," Rex orders in his own way.

You lick your lips, followed by clearing your throat, and keep your eyes locked onto your Captains as you state "your orders are to fuck me, Captain."

"Yes, Ma'am."

You overhear a handful of men groan at your tone of voice, no doubt working themselves up again. "I'll show you boys how it's done," Rex says with a smug laugh as he moves both of his hands to your knees, and slowly pushes them up until they're almost pressing your shoulders, folding your body in half. He keeps one hand on your knee, the other holding the base of his cock as he begins slipping into you.

It isn't until you feel cold plastoid pressing against your body that you realize he's still in uniform.

Rex is fucking you with his armour on? Oh.

The sound that Rex lets out as he bottoms out is one that will forever play on repeat in the back of your mind. He holds himself there, scrunching his eyes shut as he regains focus, enticed by how wet and warm you feel. Once Rex has evened out, he begins thrusting into you, and oh Kriff, this man does not hold back.

With your body folded in half, Rex is able to drive his cock even deeper, his tip brushing over your g-spot with every thrust. Your legs find their way around his upper back, ankles locking over each other, and to encourage Rex, you press your heel against his back, urging him to give you all he's got. Rex's eyes meet yours, a single brow raised, and he makes a brief comment about how needy you are.

You're already a babbling mess, and Rex has only just begun! No doubt, you'll pass out the second he's finished with you, but your men are here to pick up the pieces, labelling you as a war hero for helping them during such desperate times.

"How're you doing, sweetheart?" Rex questions, affectionate eyes locking onto your half-lidded ones.

"G-good," is all you can reply, and Rex chuckles at your cock-dumb mentality.

When words fail, actions speak, and Rex dips his head down to introduce his lips to yours. Despite his heavy thrusts, the kiss is steady, adding to your overstimulation. You've always been fond of your Captain, but you could never quite put your finger on why; now you've got it - it's because he fucks so kriffing good!

As the kiss breaks, you reach around Rex's neck, hands clasping onto his back, attempting to rake your nails into his slippery armour. Rex lets out a soft laugh before kissing along your neck, leaving his mark below where your Jedi robes sit - what a smart man.

"Rex, I'm-" you blurt out.

"I know, sweetheart," Rex replies in a soothing voice, only for his tone to turn stern as he questions "you're going to cum for me, aren't you, Commander?"

Your reply can't seem to leave your lips, so you nod in response. Rex chuckles at your desperation, and to your surprise, he stops what he's doing. His thrusts come to a sharp halt, and he quickly slips his cock from you, leaving you with your mouth hanging open.

Just as you're about to question what he's doing, as are the other clones, he sits on the end of the bed beside you and slips two fingers into your cunt, instantly curling them and fucking you where he left off.

Rex clearly knows something you don't, but you allow him to take the ropes, especially as your orgasm is on the edge. There's a strange sensation in your gut, something you haven't quiet felt before, and judging from the way it's growing with Rex's movements, you assume you'll soon find out.

"Watch and learn, boys," Rex states, but keeps his eyes focused, locked onto yours.

You're putty in his grasp, mewling on the bed, not bothering to hold back on your moans. You're about to cum, any second now, but that foreign sensation takes over instead. Suddenly, everything becomes too much, especially Rex's fingers hitting that soft spot inside you over and over. You yelp as something takes over your body, an orgasm of some kind; on shaky elbows, you rush to prop yourself up, gazing down to watch in amazement as you squirt all over your Captain's arm, the liquid coating his plastoid armour.

"Good girl," Rex coos through gritted teeth, repeating the praise, but doesn't let up just yet. Kriff, you're screaming, even with your hand over your mouth. You fall back onto the bed, clawing at the sheets as this orgasm lasts longer than usual.

Even after you squirt, Rex continues fucking you with his fingers, as if to ensure that you're empty. He eventually calms down, and only then does your volume begin to drop, revealing the vast amount of praise from your troopers.

"That was beautiful, Commander!" Fives calls out.

"Kriff, she's shaking," you overhear Tup comment.

Jesse whines "my karking bed is soaked..." under his breath, which makes you smile to yourself. He was the one to suggest his bed, so he can lie in his wet grave!

A gentle stroke of your hair makes you open your eyes, only to meet Kix, who's gazing down at you. "Are you alright?" he questions.

"Uh-huh," you lazily nod, and he smiles at your exhaustion. Kix slowly props you up, letting you fall back against him. Your eyes trail to Rex, who looks almost as tired as you do. He's wiping something off his thigh, and if your calculations are correct, his thigh was out of your splash zone.

"Did you cum?" you ask Rex, who looks up at you with a tired smile. He nods in confirmation.

"Untouched," Rex states, and you take pride in making him cum in such a way.

You have a sudden burst of energy, and use it to lean forwards and thank your Captain with a kiss. Rex smiles against your lips before playfully nipping at your bottom lip, earning a sarcastic comment of "get a room!" from Jesse.

"I think we should get you into the refresher instead," Rex comments as he breaks the kiss.

"As good as that sounds, I can't walk," you sigh, and attempt to gesture to your jelly-like body, only for your arms to flap about and fall flat at your sides.

Rex laughs at your exhaustion, then informs you that he'll run you a bath instead. You look at him with a surprised expression, to which he states "I know, I wasn't expecting the GAR to treat us to baths, either."

Rex leaves you in the company of Kix, who begins checking over your body whilst asking you over and over if you're alright.

------

A nice, hot bath doesn't take long for Rex to run. Hardcase, now in his blacks, with caution, picks you up and carries you to the dorms' refresher. He's extra gentle as he places your feet on the tile floor, keeping his arm around your waist to steady yourself as you slowly enter the bath.

Hardcase steals a kiss from you, muttering "thanks for tonight, Commander," against your lips before leaving you to it.

Kix enters the second Hardcase exits, bringing you a glass of water and a certain prevention pill. "Let me know if you need anything," he informs you before kissing your forehead and leaving you to relax.

Only for Fives to come barrelling in, instantly blabbering on about how good you were. "I always assumed you'd be quite the slut, but... well, I wasn't expecting that," Fives playfully jabs, and insists that "we should all do it again some time!"

Dogma peers his head around the door and barks at Fives to leave you alone, but the second he shoos Fives out, he replaces the emptiness with himself instead. "Eh, Fives is right," Dogma comments, referring to Fives statement. "But don't tell him I said that," he grumbles as he steals a kiss from you.

You stretch back in the bath, enjoying the GAR assigned bubbles, and just when you think you're alone, Tup appears. "I don't want to smother you..." he sheepishly comments, "but I wanted to thank you for tonight." You can't help but laugh at Tup's kind demeanour, and the smile remains on your lips as Tup offers you a massage.

You accept, under the cheeky condition that Tup joins you in the bath. His cheeks turn pink at your suggestion, and continue turning pink the more he undresses. Tup even attempts to cover himself up as he settles in the bath with you, making you giggle once more.

Tup has your back resting against his chest, tenderly burying his fingertips into your damp skin, softening out those tight areas. You overhear commotion outside, and both of you laugh as it unfolds.

"No fair! Tup's in there having another round with her!" Fives protests, his voice thudding through the thickness of the refresher door.

"Leave her alone, Fives. She's a free woman, she can do what she wants!" Somebody defends, and you're almost certain it's Dogma.

"They're just cuddling, leave them alone," Rex intervenes, and you know it's Rex from his firmness and slight difference in tone.

Following the Captain's orders, you and Tup are left to it, cuddling and lazily washing each other. Once the water turns cold, you both make your exit, drying yourselves off and gawking when Tup lets down his hair, only to refasten it into another, fresh manbun.

A pair of blacks has been left for you on the side, and despite them being a little big, they still fit snugly. As you exit the refresher, the first thing you notice is that Jesse's bed has been completely stripped, bedding in the wash. The dorm is clean, and your clothes and bag have been folded and placed on Jesse's empty bed.

"I guess I'm staying the night," you comment, and gesture to ask who you're bundling up with.

Before anyone can get a word in, the Captain speaks up. "I missed out on most of the night, so I'd like to catch up with you."

You're unsure if 'catch up' means have a chat, or wake up to find Rex spoon-fucking you, but either way, you're down. With a nod of confirmation, you begin settling in for the night, curling up in Rex's bunk as he continues changing from his armour into a fresh pair of blacks to sleep in.

"Wait a minute," Jesse intervenes. "Where am I sleeping?" he questions, setting his hands on his hips with frustration.

"You can go give Tup a cuddle, he loves them, apparently," Fives maliciously comments, sending playful, yet bold daggers at his vod.

"Ah, leave Tup alone," Dogma defends him.

Before Fives can take another jab, Hardcase barks up with "we can spoon!" And Jesse doesn't look too pleased at his suggestion.

"You can join us, Jesse," Rex disgruntledly states.

"You do know these beds are singles, right?" Jesse states as he gestures to the small, single beds, barely big enough for one clone, let alone two, and you.

"Yes, but from what I've seen, the Commander likes it when she has a clone pressed up on either side of her," Rex teases, side-eyeing you as he comments.

An array of laugher fills the air, and Jesse nods in agreement. You remain quiet, as there's no point denying something that is blatantly true!

The lights are soon turned out, and the boys take it in turns to say goodnight to each other. In the dark, you feel Rex join you, manhandling you into position. Your head finds Rex's chest, an arm sprawled out underneath your neck, and your arm wraps around Rex's waist. Jesse then joins, and since your back is free, he decides to spoon you, trapping you perfectly in your 501st sandwich. Before falling asleep, you make a minor comment to Rex, as if to apologize for him not being there tonight. "We'll make sure you come with us next time," you quietly comment, referring to 79's, the venue that lead you here.

Jesse chuckles before mentioning how wild the night went. "You should have seen her, Captain. She's the sluttiest woman in the galaxy, grinding on Hardcase whilst making out with me," Jesse explains, and you lightly elbow him in the ribs for leaking so much information. A few men can be heard giggling in their bunks, if only you could elbow them too.

"Oh really?" Rex responds, his pitch heightening him as he asks. "Well, I'll definitely be there next time, and I'll ensure that I make up for my lack of presence," Rex promises, and knowing Rex, this is a promise he'll keep.

"I can't wait," you reply, softly yawning against Rex's chest.

"Neither can I," Fives comments from across the dorm, earning a giggle from Hardcase.

"Alright, men. That's enough. Go to sleep," Rex orders.

"Yeah, Captain's orders," you playfully comment, earning yet another sea of giggles.

Within time, the bunch calm down, and the air is soon graced with the soothing sounds of snoring clones. It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep, as your exhausted body is begging for some rest. You doze off, sandwiched snugly between an ARC Trooper and the Captain of the 501st.

What a dream!!!!

[navstuffs]

IT'S CARNAVAL!

Masterlist of my Adrian Chase's fanfics. REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Pairing: Adrian Chase x GN!Reader

Summary: a series of headcanons of you, Adrian enjoying Carnival (+ Chris).

Warning: alcohol use (NEVER ACCEPT ALCOHOL FROM STRANGERS), SMUT, penetration, cum, public sex

Authors note: SPECIAL CARNIVAL/MARDI GRAS/CARNAVAL. for those who dont know, imagine Carnival as big street party with ppl dressed in sometimes costumes, having fun, loud music, drinking (a lot) and dancing (adrian and chris kind of thing). i swear this came to me at 1 am AND I HAD TO WRITE. i tried to keep it as neutral as possible to respect all cultures since different countries celebrate Carnival in different ways. credits to my husband who gave the idea for Peacemaker's costume. credits of the gif to @bigilante

You told Adrian one of your favorite events of year finally arrived in February, Carnival. Adrian didn't know a lot about it and you told him you were presented with it by your friends

You explained to him he could go dressed as anything he wanted, drink as much he wanted and dance how he wanted, AND HE WOULDN'T BE JUDGED.

"WHERE DO I SIGN IN?"

You and Adrian decided to invite Chris because he has been needing some fun since his dad's death. He had been so depressed and quite frankly, you were worried about him.

"We can celebrate the racist piece of shit's death? And be with my favorite people in the entire world? Dance and drink to this?" Adrian suggested smiling back at Chris and you. Your man was so dense

"Damnit Adrian be a little more compassionate man okay? My old man has died" cried Chris, sniffling on a tissue. You start to apologize for the insensitive comments of your boyfriend, giving an accusatory glance to Adrian. He mouths a silent "What? What did I do?"

"How much puss and cock will I get?" Chris suddenly asks.

You roll your eyes as Adrian opens a smile. This is what you get for being compassionate.

So on the day of the event, you decide to meet in an alley close to the party, coming separately to not spoil your costumes. You are the first one to arrive, dressed as Legolas from Lord of the Rings to tease Adrian.

Your man had told he had a crush on the elf prince since he was a child, fascinated with how badass and cool Legolas looked during a drunk marathon of Lord of the Rings- Extended Version and you couldn't wait for him to see you dressed like that

To no surprise, when you see Adrian he is dressed as Peacemaker. He has a helmet made of tin foil and you have to admire his attention to details, from the red shirt with a dove on it, the pants, blue gloves, and boots. He even has his own stuffed Eagly attached to his arm

When Adrian sees you, he stops in his tracks, gulping. He looks up and down at your body slowly. He absorbs how the costume hugs you in the correct places, especially in your ass. When he notices you have elf ears, Adrian feels his arousal growing so he turns his back against you, before he loses control of himself

"You even put elf ears? Do you want me to have a heart attack before I turn 35?"

"After this, we can enjoy the night, Vigilante"

You whisper the last part in Adrian's ear and he almost grabs your hand to take you to a dark alley he saw down the street, isolated enough so one could hear or say anything

"IT IS ROCK AND ROLL CARNIVAL, BITCHES!"

It is Chris. Walking towards you, he is dressed as a Kiss band member, with red lipstick on, white make-up, a cheap black wig, a painted star on his eyes. He wears a black top with tight pants and waits, do those boots have heels? Chris attracts all the looks from people as he passes, some even clapping. You thought you heard a small whistle coming from Adrian.

You don't know if you should be amazed or disgusted.

"That is fucking awesome, P! You are probably gonna be the sexiest thing, of course, after my Legolas!"

When Chris sees Adrian's outfit he rolls his eyes, not surprised. When he sees yours though, he blinks in surprise. He points to you back to Adrian and your boyfriend just agrees with the kinkiest smile ever.

To Adrian and Chris's surprise, the party is happening on the street. There are people dressed in costumes, some not but everyone seems to be having fun. A loud exciting music plays and it is impossible to not dance. Chris, of course, gets all the attention. Everyone looks at him, some people whistling, calling him "Sexy Thing." Chris notices a tall Barbarian with a thick beard eyeing him the whole time

You get a few tequilas shots to start, cheering for friendship. Adrian (the weakest on alcohol of you three) starts dancing, timid. You reassure no one will judge him when a woman dressed as a nun with her ass out, pass drinking and singing, followed by a man with devil's horn and super-tight shorts

Your boyfriend is now fully dancing and vibrating to the song now. You laugh with Peacemaker, clinking your shot glasses and turning at once

After at least four shots, you have Adrian twerking against our leg as you grind against him, holding his hips. Chris is nowhere to be found, probably finding himself in the arms of the sexy Barbarian

The night continues and you and Adrian, due to the alcohol, dance with other people now, especially a group dressed as Star Wars characters. You two accept free drinks from a short Darth Vader and a tall Yoda, who promise you this will land you on the moon

"We shouldn't drink this Adrian, what if they want to steal our kidney?"

"Why would Yoda want to steal our kidney, baby?!"

The red drink doesn't taste really good, going down your throat burning but in minutes, you start feeling your body on fire. Adrian seems to feel the same by the way he looks at you, his face red

"I know a place, come on."

You let yourself be guided by Adrian, passing the others as a blur.

Adrian takes you to the dark alley he saw before, away enough from the main street. He kisses you against the wall. You two never made out so hungrily like this before. Adrian's hands are desperate, going inside your outfit to feel your skin. You are so hot now with all the alcohol and the people walking. If anyone decides to go to that alley to pee, they would catch you, which makes things more exciting. Adrian's hands go down your ass, grabbing it. Adrian moans as he presses his hard-on against your leg, eager to have you.

You two share a long hot kiss, with Adrian biting your lips. If you weren't leaking before, you were now.

"Shit, babe, if we don't stop now I will ruin your outfit"

"I am warm anyway."

Adrian pulls your pants down and you open your legs, placing your hands on the wall for support. You bite your lips with anticipation. Your heart is beating fast as Adrian unzips his pants, leading his cock to your entrance. He is so different tonight, shoving at once, not as careful as the other nights. Your moans are muffled by Adrian's hand over your mouth. The sounds of people passing near you make your stomach twist, nervous but at the same time more aroused. Adrian has never fucked you so hard like this, as the thrill of getting caught is affecting him as well. You and Adrian never did that before and you know you won't last long. Adrian seems to realize that as well, whispering loud enough so you could hear.

"Cum for me, babe. Let it all go."

Your eyes roll with pleasure as Adrian cums on you not long after. He helps you get up and adjust yourself, your legs still shaking with the orgasm. You both are breathless, Adrian's glasses titled to one side. He gives you a more calm and passionate kiss, holding you while you two calm yourself.

"That was..."

"Shit."

You two go back to the party, deciding to never accept drinks from any Darth Vader and Yoda again when Peacemaker appears in front of you in the middle of the sea of people. His lipstick is all messed up and he isn't wearing any more wig. Also, his blacktop is gone

He looks between you, understanding what happened based on Adrian's relaxed smile. Chris holds you and Adrian on each arm and screams

"I fucking love Carnival!"

The next morning, you wake up in Adrian's bed butt naked. Adrian is at your side, naked as well, wearing just the Peacemaker's boots on. You rub your eyes, the clock showing almost 10 am.

Your movements end up waking up Adrian. He smiles lazily at you, letting his head against the pillow.

"It seems we had a freaky night, Adrian."

"All I remember was you begging me to fuck you in boots. Do you even know how we got home?"

"I remember we befriend a Scooby doo and Shaggy and we invite them to be our new couple BFFs?"

"Did we give them Scooby snacks?"

You laugh, nuzzling against Adrian as he covered you two with the thin sheet. You needed a shower but it could wait five minutes more.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Pain in My Heart // Benedict Bridgerton

Request: Could I please request a Bridgerton imagine where Eloise or Daphne are trying to matchmake Reader with one of their brothers (you can pick which one) but Reader actually hits it off with another brother who's in love at first sight (again, your choice!!). - @libraryoffandomsuniverse

A/N: I am so sorry for how long this has taken!! I hope I have done your request justice. I had a lot of fun writing this, I’m pretty proud of what I’ve come up so I hope you like!! Thank you for requesting! Title: Pain in My Heart - Otis Redding

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader (Platonic), Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader (Romantic)

Warnings: pining, mutual pining, awful flirting (I can't write it for the life in me), unrequited love (?), a pride and prejudice moment, love confessions, fluff, very very light angst.

Word count: 4.7k

There wasn’t a lot that Daphne and Eloise Bridgerton had in common. It was thought by their mother that due to their closeness in age, they would get along swimmingly. However, by the time that Eloise could speak for herself, it became increasingly clear that there were to be no two people different than that of Eloise and Daphne.

However, whilst the two did not share the same tastes in music or literature, they were united in the hope that they would see their elder brothers happily in love.

It is on a Wednesday in the middle of February when Daphne decides that it is time for her eldest brother, Anthony, to find a wife.

Her decision is made when Anthony stalks into the family drawing room. The only sign of his anger being the blazing of his eyes. Dramatically, he throws himself onto the closest couch, his legs stretching across the pale blue fabric as he laments the meddling of mothers.

Daphne barely represses the urge to roll her eyes. She could tell that Eloise was having a hard time not telling her brother how easy he had it in comparison to rights of women and marriage.

Thankfully, however, Anthony is saved from such a lecture by the announcement of a beloved friend. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) had known the Bridgerton family for as long as she had been alive. The same age as Daphne, the two had fallen into an easy friendship that grew more cherished the more time passed.

Upon her announcement, Anthony sits up with keen interest. An action not missed by both Daphne and Eloise – they share a look, one only understood by sisters with masses of brothers.

“Dear (Y/N),” Daphne greets, standing from her chair to greet her lifelong friend, “How have you been?”

“I’ve been very well though it has only been a couple of days since you saw me last.”

Daphne laughs; a light and airy sound. “I can still miss you in that time. Come, sit by me and we can catch up.”

The two women are soon joined by Eloise who places her book down on the table, spine up so she does not lose her page. From where they sit, neither Anthony nor Benedict can hear what the women seem to be whispering about though it seems to be of a serious issue with grave looks on their faces.

Benedict decides that he doesn’t like the look of frustration on her face; the furrow of her brows. If it wouldn’t raise questions of his sanity, he would press his thumb to the furrow, smoothing out her brow so not a trace of the worry remained.

“(Y/N),” Anthony calls, interrupting the conversation currently taking place between the three women, “Would you be attending Lord and Lady Hopton’s ball later on this week? Lord Hopton has done nothing but discuss the expense being put into the event.”

(Y/N) swallows her small sip of tea, placing the cup and saucer down on the table before answering the eldest Bridgerton. “I do plan on attending,” She smiles, fiddling with her gloved fingers.

A pleased smile breaks out across Anthony’s face as he nods. Turning away from her, Anthony walks back to the pale blue couch that only mere moments ago he had thrown himself across in vexation at his dear mother. Now, he sits down gently, making sure every ounce of his nobility is on show.

Benedict cannot help but roll his eyes at the antics of his elder brother. As if on a covert mission for the crown, Benedict’s gaze slides back to her – runs over her figure, taking in the way her dress sits on her form and the way her smile lights up her whole face. He’s a fool in love, he realises, but he would rather be a fool in love with her than a fool in love with anyone else.

It’s as if he finally understands what the poets write about; how the artists never paint more than their muse. As Benedict peers down at the sketchbook in his hands, he comes to realise that he has been drawing her for months. He has found his muse and it’s close to breaking him when he sees the plotting glance shared between Daphne and Eloise.

(Y/N) sits at the table, utterly unaware of the plan being concocted between his sisters. He has the urge to scream, to yell but he keeps quiet. Benedict becomes the very definition of decorum; smiling politely at her when their eyes meet from across the room. The very moment sends his heart skipping a beat before picking up a rhythm he isn’t certain is compatible with life. He has to stop himself from reaching up to grab his chest to ensure his heart doesn’t beat right out of it.

All too soon the moment is over, and she returns to laughing with his younger sisters, but even she knows that something has changed between them. (Y/N) wasn’t one to believe in love at first sight; the very notion belonging only to fairytales, but she, herself, could not deny the thrill that overtook her body when she met the blue eyes of Benedict Bridgerton.

-----------

Lord and Lady Hopton owned one of the last remaining Tudor residences in London. Many had fallen during the reformation, but in some strange stroke of luck, the Hopton’s home had remained largely undamaged. From there, it passed down the male line as all properties and titles were wont to do in such a society.

The current Lord and Lady prided themselves on the tracking of their lineage, dedicating themselves to the conservation of their home. It was rare for them to throw a ball such as this one, but with the favourable weather, Lady Hopton was able to convince her husband it would be well enough for the courtyard to be used to entertain their nearest and dearest.

There was no set theme; an idea many were grateful for. As much as (Y/N) loved the dress up, the competitive nature between eligible ladies wasn’t something she was in the mood for.

The atmosphere is much more relaxed as (Y/N) takes a turn about the room, smiling politely at the women she has grown up with in London society. They would be civil towards each other, but there was no real friendships forged. (Y/N) was quite content with the Bridgerton brood.

Though they had arrived together, (Y/N) found herself wandering from the comforting presence of the family. She could feel Anthony’s eyes on her, and she thinks of Daphne’s suggestion from the other day; the eldest Bridgerton girl had all but suggested that (Y/N) marry Anthony.

Whilst the suggestion was flattering, (Y/N) hadn’t stopped thinking of the moment she shared with Benedict. She thinks of the moment often; remembers the way his stare felt, as if he was staring into her very soul and he liked what he found. She thinks of the way her body responded; the shiver sent through her and how she realised that she liked the way he looked at her. As if she hung the moon and stars in the sky for him, and him alone.

(Y/N) loses herself in the crowd. She wanders and wanders, watching new love form and old love strengthen as she catches sight of couples beginning their night. (Y/N) continues her ruminating until she bumps into something hard. Another body.

(Y/N) cringes when she finds herself face to face with the chest of Benedict Bridgerton. “Benedict!” She gasps, “I’m sorry.”

He steadies her with a gentle hand to her elbow. “You have nothing to apologise for. You looked to be deep in thought, I’m only sorry for interrupting you.”

(Y/N) feels her skin begin to flush. I was thinking of you, she wants to cry at the man, but she only just manages to refrain herself.

Benedict laughs before he can stop himself. “If you’re reacting like that, I have to know what you were thinking of.”

“Nothing for nosies,” She responds, a coy smile crossing her painted lips.

Benedict gasps, pressing a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “You wound me, (Y/N).”

“I’m sure you’ll recover,” (Y/N) laughs, patting Benedict’s arm in mock pity.

“I don’t know,” Benedict expresses, his eyes running over her face and outfit. “I think I’m going to need someone to nurse me back to health.”

(Y/N) feels her skin once again begin to heat at the insinuation in his words. She had encountered banter before with the Bridgerton brothers, but she had never encountered such overt flirting. Benedict’s eyes glittered with mirth; his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes – this was him. This was Benedict in his element; he was an artist, a gentleman, and a man that could render her speechless with a simple line of speech.

She finds it hard to respond for a moment; finds it hard to string two thoughts together in his intoxicating presence. She flounders for a second, watching Benedict continue to smile widely as if he had nothing better to do than waste time with her.

Eventually, she collects herself enough. She peers up at the man from under her lashes, fluttering them to the best of her ability as she whispers, “Such requests may make the recovery period a lot longer and a lot harder.”

Leaving the man speechless, (Y/N) pats his arm once more before taking her leave. Feeling hot and bothered by her encounter with Benedict, (Y/N) ambles over to drinks table. Daphne and Eloise stand there nursing their own drinks; they smile widely at their friend as she approaches the table.

“Have you given thought to what I suggested the other day?” Daphne asks; watching her best friend over the rim of her lemonade glass.

“Courting Anthony?” (Y/N) clarifies, reaching for her glass of the tepid drink. She frowns absentmindedly; it was one of the main issues with balls, they never could keep the drinks cold enough to be refreshing throughout the night. They almost always turned sour.

“The very suggestion,” (Y/N)’s dearest friend states with a smile.

“It wouldn’t work,” (Y/N) protests, urging her friends to see the truth. “We aren’t suited for each other.”

“Anthony disagrees,” Daphne chimes, looking and feeling all to superior in the conversation. “He confided to me only yesterday that he wants to court you.”

The ground is close to swallowing her whole; the walls becoming far too close for her liking. Her mouth is dry when she tries to swallow around the lump in her throat. “That wouldn’t be fair to him,” She croaks, feeling all too close to tears.

“Why not?” Daphne demands, making her vexation known by placing her hands on her hips.

“Daphne,” Eloise interrupts, glancing warily between the two women. “(Y/N) isn’t in love with Anthony. She’s in love with someone else.”

The fight leaves her beloved friend in an instant; she brings a hand to her mouth to cover the shock of Eloise’s words. “I didn’t know,” She whispers, “I wouldn’t have pushed so hard.”

“I know you wouldn’t have,” (Y/N) appeases, “I’m rather new to this.”

“Do we know who it is?” Daphne asks, unable to keep the excitement off her face as she thinks of the handful of men worthy enough to love her dear friend.

(Y/N) sighs, deciding whether to come clean and tell her longest friend that she has found herself hopelessly in love with her brother. She hadn’t even expected it. “It’s Benedict,” She eventually confesses, feeling pressured by the investigative gaze of Daphne Bridgerton.

“Benedict?” Daphne asks, confused, “As in my other brother?”

“The very same,” (Y/N) comments lightly… too lightly as if ready to be on the defence for her feelings for Benedict.

Daphne blinks once, twice before her face breaks with the most beautiful smile. “Oh (Y/N)!” She cries, “This is wonderful!”

“He might not love me back,” (Y/N) whispers, doing her best to keep a light spin on the situation but the idea that Benedict may not return her feelings hurts far more than it should.

“And Anthony still wants to court you,” Eloise reminds her, her voice close to pity.

“Speaking of the devil,” Daphne murmurs with a smile on her face, “Anthony is heading this way.”

“He is?” (Y/N) asks, pivoting on the spot to the find the eldest Bridgerton making his way through the crowd. He smiles at his sisters, briefly checking their glasses to ensure they were sticking strictly to the lemonade offered. When he is suited with what he finds, he turns to (Y/N) and holds out his hand. “Would you care to dance?” He asks her with a confident smile.

She nods her consent, taking his offered hand and allowing herself to be led to the floor. Anthony leads her expertly across the floor; lessons as a child and years in the London society forging him to be an impressive dancer. He makes her laugh as they continue dance, and whilst (Y/N) has a good time with the eldest Bridgerton, she cannot see herself falling for the man like she can see her entire future with Benedict.

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

The ball had wound down naturally; families and lovers beginning to make their way home through the early morning London streets. (Y/N) travels with the Bridgertons, having arrived with them in the first place. Daphne focuses on the streets of London, doing her best not to fall asleep before getting home to her bed.

“How are you getting home?” Daphne asks, not removing her gaze from the darkened streets of the capital city.

“I’m not sure, I don’t want to have to wait for another carriage,” (Y/N) complains, holding a hand to her mouth to cover a yawn that had slipped out. The tiredness was clinging to her bones now; she wanted nothing more to crawl into her own bed, sink into the pillows and fall into a dreamworld where Benedict climbs into the other side of the bed.

“Stay with us,” Eloise invites, meeting Anthony’s eyes.

“I wouldn’t be an imposition?” (Y/N) asks smally; the last thing she wanted was to be burden on her friends.

“You never could be,” Anthony smiles, “You’re always welcome to stay the night.”

“Thank you, Anthony,” She whispers, reaching for his hand in the dark and squeezing.

Silence falls for the rest of the ride; the weariness of each of them punctuating the air, creating a warmer atmosphere that leaves (Y/N) blinking away sleep. Eloise does her best to remain awake, but her head soon winds up on Anthony’s shoulder to which the man looks the surprised. He recovers quickly, adjusting his younger sister to make her more comfortable.

The Bridgerton siblings and (Y/N) all sigh in blessed relief when the carriage rolls to a stop outside Bridgerton House. The door opening lets in a cold blast of air, making her shiver as she reaches for the handle to help herself down.

“Here,” Benedict’s voice sounds in the dark light of night, “Let me help you.”

His hand reaches for hers; it clasps hers gently as he helps her down from the carriage. All too soon, his hand falls from hers and (Y/N) is left feeling bereft from the absence of his touch. “Thank you,” She whispers, taking a risk and glancing up at the blue eyes already fixed steadily on her.

“You’re welcome,” He murmurs. Benedict glances back to the carriage to find the rest of his family descending on them. “Goodnight,” He whispers, ducking his head in a bow and leaving her on the steps of Bridgerton House.

(Y/N) watches the man depart in somewhat of a daze. If she focused hard enough, she could still feel his hand in hers. She could feel every fingerprint, every crease, every line in his palm. She could feel it all; she wanted to feel more. She wanted everything with that man; would happily offer up her everything for a single glimpse at what it could be like to wake up in his arms and be happy.

Sighing heavily, she touches a hand to her forehead, pausing in the grand entryway of the Bridgerton family home. She felt so keenly for the man that she knew she would suffer the worst fate to man should he not return her feelings: heartbreak.

“(Y/N)?” Anthony calls from the door, his arm around Eloise’s waist. “Would you meet me in my study? I need to talk to you.”

“Of course,” She allows, smiling at the sight before her. Anthony whispers something to his sister to which Eloise offers her goodnights and begins to climb the stairs to her room, Anthony following behind her with a worried look on his face that only a beloved brother could master.

Anthony’s study smelled of wood polish; the mahogany desk sitting by the windows being the main feature of the room. It’s dark wood providing the much of the fragrance in the room; it’s a comforting scent. (Y/N) smiles when she realises that it’s comforting as it reminds her of the Viscount; the scent of his spicy cologne intermingled with the wood, becoming one and the same.

“Thank you for waiting,” Anthony whispers, closing the door behind him, “I know how tired you are, but I really wanted to speak to you.”

“Whatever’s the matter?”

Suddenly, Anthony no longer holds the prowess of a Viscount but rather, looks like the eighteen year old boy handed a peerage all too soon. He runs a hand through his hair out of nerves, pacing back and forth behind his desk. Eventually, he comes to a slow stop, resting his hands on the back of his father’s ageing chair. “Have you given any thought to your future?”

“It’s been on my mind more and more these days,” She answers honestly. It’s all she has thought of since her eyes met Benedict’s across the room and she got a glimpse into what her mornings, afternoons, evenings with the man could be like.

“I think we could be good together,” Anthony argues, offering up a slice of his heart for the taking, “I think we work well together.”

“Anthony, may I be honest with you for a moment?”

“I’d hope for nothing more.”

She takes a deep breath; steeling her nerves before smiling at the Viscount. “With all due respect, I don’t think you do love me.”

Anthony moves to interrupt her; a flash of anger and upset in his eyes. He quietens when she holds up a single hand; begging him to let her continue. “Anthony, I think you were looking for someone to stop your mother from pestering you about marriage. I just happened to walk into the room at the right moment.”

Anthony frowns; he takes in (Y/N)’s words, letting them roll around his mind as he thinks back to the first day when he realised he could truly love the woman sitting in front of him. Violet Bridgerton had been on him from the moment he walked through the front door; producing yet another list of eligible women in London that he could find a potential match in. He had taken the list from his beloved mother and in the privacy of his study, he had ripped the list to tiny pieces making sure that none of the names were legible.

On some level, he has always loved her. (Y/N) had been in his life from the very day she was born; mother being friends, Violet able to offer (Y/N)’s advice as she was her firstborn. At this point, Violet was a seasoned expert on motherhood. Anthony had always known of the girl that was best friends with Daphne; he had watched her grow up. On some level, he has always had some feeling for her.

He knows know, though, that those feelings could never broach romance. There was too deep an affection between them.

“You’re right,” Anthony states, “It wouldn’t be a love match.”

“It wouldn’t,” She affirms, taking a seat in front of the large, wooden desk. Silhouettes of his parents and siblings decorate the space; it brings a fond smile to her face. Anthony presented a strong front, but in private, he was as much the adoring son and brother.

“But you think you have found your love match,” Anthony declares, wanting to clear the air.

“I’m not sure,” She laughs mirthlessly. “I have no clue as to whether he feels the same.”

“He’d be an idiot, not to,” Anthony compliments, “Do I know the lucky man?”

(Y/N) looks sheepish as she stares at the Viscount. She had already confessed to Daphne and Eloise – what harm could one more person do?

“It’s Benedict.”

“You love him,” Anthony whispers; not an accusation, not an ounce of anger in his voice. A simple fact stated for the room.

(Y/N) nods. “I do. I love him with all that I am and all that I know I could be.”

A sad, bittersweet smile crosses Anthony’s face; he won’t speak of how the words hurt him. He reaches for her hand and clasps it tightly between both of his.

“Go to him,” He whispers, “You have my blessing.”

(Y/N) stands. Her intention is to leave the room and find the Bridgerton who had so readily taken root within her heart, but first she crosses to where Anthony stands behind his desk. He watches her with curious eyes as the silk of her glove brushes his cheek; his eye flutter closed when he feels the featherlight press of her lips and the whisper of her gratitude.

Anthony keeps his eyes closed when she pulls away from him; he keeps them closed until he hears the tell-tale click of the door. It is only then that Anthony allows himself to open his eyes and peer into the heartbreak now cracking open his chest. Not for the love he though he felt, but for the utter want racing through his body. He wants a love like that; he was going to find a love like that.

They would be happy together; he thinks to himself as he breathes in the floral scent of her perfume. They would be happy together, perfectly suited to the point that Anthony craves such intimacy. One day; he promises, one day he would hold such a treasure within his hands.

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

Bridgerton House remained warm and inviting even after the family had long retired for bed. The sconces lining the walls still lit; their warm light easy on anyone’s eyes should they need to traverse the hallways for whatever reason.

The path to Benedict’s room isn’t one she has taken often. Thinking on it, (Y/N) realises that save for being shown the door on her first ever visit to the London home, she has not stepped foot close to the room since. Until tonight, that is.

Her skirts swish delicately underfoot as (Y/N) makes her way to his room. She doesn’t dare utter a single breath for the fear of being caught; all around her slumber her closest friends. If she were caught by a member of staff, her reputation balanced on being ruined.

Her hand trembles as she clenches it into a fist, raises it to the plain white door and knocks twice. She waits on the threshold, twisting her fingers into her skirts – a nervous habit she’s had since she was a child. She was thankful that she no longer bit her nails down to the bed.  

“Come in,” calls his quiet voice and her nerves only heighten. Taking a deep breath, she pushes open the door that could reveal her future.

“(Y/N),” Benedict gasps, the deep v of his shirt falling open, revealing far more of his bare chest than (Y/N) had expected to see tonight.

“I wanted to talk to you,” She whispers, hovering between the doorway and his room. She does her best to not stare at the defined muscles on display but loses the battle. Her eyes run over the parts of his muscular torso and the strong forearms shown with the sleeves of white shirt rolled up. She didn’t think it was possible to be attracted to the forearms of a person, but here was Benedict proving her wrong.

“What if you get caught?” He whisper-asks, worry lacing his tone as he glances at something behind her. She turns on instinct only to find an empty hallway and three lit sconces.

“Anthony knows where I am,” She retorts, stepping further into Benedict’s room.

“Anthony?”

“He gave me his blessing.”

“To enter my room… unattended… late at night?”

“Essentially, yes,” She smiles, thinking back to her conversation with the Viscount.

“Why were you talking to Anthony?” Benedict asks before he can stop himself. He doesn’t like the simmering jealousy he feels that the picture of (Y/N) alone with Anthony in his study. He clears his throat to chase away the hollow ache of envy; he doesn’t want to picture the conversation. He doesn’t think he could handle it.

“He asked me to court him.”

“Oh,” Benedict responds, feeling his heart begin to crack in his chest. “What did you say?”

“I told him I couldn’t. We wouldn’t suit each other and one other thing.”

“What other thing?”

“I don’t love him. I love someone else.”

“You do? Do I know them?”

(Y/N) laughs, stretching her arms out as she gestures to Benedict’s bedroom. “I’m stood in your room in the middle of the night, Benedict, with full knowledge that if I were to be caught by any of the staff, I would be ruined. What does that tell you?”

Benedict frowns, refusing to let himself fall into the hope growing in his chest. He feels like Icarus; too close to the sun, too close to thing he wants most in this world.

“Stop this pain in my heart,” She commands weakly. “Stop this pain and tell me if you feel the same. If you don’t, I understand but I’d ask you not to tell anyone of this midnight visit.”

His mouth runs dry, and he finds it hard to answer. He’s falling, falling, falling for the woman stood across from him and he cannot find the words to accurately describe the depth of his feelings for her. That day in the drawing room – he’s known her for years, always been aware of her, but that day, it was as if he was finally seeing her for the pure beauty that she inhabits. She could rival Aphrodite herself.

Upset shutters across (Y/N)’s face as she nods twice, trying her best to keep the burn of tears at bay. “It’s okay, Benedict,” She whispers, turning for the door, “Thank you for listening.”

At the last moment, Benedict reaches out and snatches her wrist. “Don’t go,” He pleads, “Don’t leave me. I don’t think I could live with myself if you left me.”

“I don’t understand,” She whispers; confusion lacing her voice. Her eyebrows furrow as she stares at the man before her, “You didn’t say anything. You stayed silent; I took that as my cue to leave.”

Benedict shakes his head. “Don’t go,” He whispers, bringing a hand up to card through the loose strands of hair framing her face. He almost preens as she leans into his touch. “I feel the same, I love you just the same,” Benedict confesses; feeling the weight leave his chest.

“You do?” She asks; her voice small but hopeful.

“I do,” Benedict smiles, brushing her cheek with his finger, “I think I always have, but I didn’t realise until recently.”

(Y/N) sniffles as tears threaten to make an appearance. She laughs wetly, unable to stop the giggle from leaving her mouth as Benedict wipes away the tears. “I hope those are happy tears,” He murmurs wryly.

“They are,” She answers, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him down to her level. “They definitely are.”

“Good,” He answers.

Their faces are so close now it would only take a fraction of a movement to press their lips together; to seal the promise of their union. “Kiss me, Benedict,” She whispers; need lacing her voice as she stares into his famously blue eyes.

Benedict doesn’t need to be told twice; it isn’t often he gets to kiss a goddess.

********

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[lagrenouilledeux]

The Lost Axor

Aurrah gazed over the fringe planet Veluuq, often known simply as ‘the Fringe.’ The Fringe was the most infamous of the outer planets - a well-known human pirate who called himself the Chief had established his crime empire on the once-barren planet. The Chief had started off running a drug ring, but he soon took control of all sorts of illegal dealings. After he was captured and executed by the Galactic Federation, his followers continued to run the business - passing the title of Chief down as a symbol. Now, instead of the bleak rock that Chief would have seen, the surface was covered entirely in tall buildings adorned with blinking neon signs.

Aurrah perked up as Human Kyle expertly placed their spaceship on the landing pad. “Falcon XJR-11 to control tower,” he said. “Requesting permission to disembark.”

“Affirmative, XJR-11. As a reminder, we are not liable for any theft or damage caused to or by you for the duration of your visit.” Static crackled until Human Kyle terminated the connection.

“Should we be worried, Human Kyle?” Aurrah asked timidly. “Your vessel is new, and I’d hate for it to be damaged or stolen.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Human Kyle said with a laugh. “The Falcon’s got the best biosecurity they have to offer. They can’t make it past the shields without confirmation from one of us.”

“That’s good.”

“Why don’t you take one of the mech suits?” Human Kyle suggested. “That way it won’t be too loud, and you’re less likely to get trampled.”

“Good idea!” Aurrah responded, climbing into one of the suits. Aurrah stood up and uneasily looked Human Kyle in the eyes. Xe would never get used to being as tall as a human.

The pair descended from the belly of the ship, paying a mechanic to maintain it while they were gone. What a sorry excuse for security, Aurrah thought as xe approached the so-called checkpoint. On any other planet, I would be detained immediately for using a mech suit.

Outside of the spaceport, there was a large sort of town square filled with bright lights, loud noises, and aliens of all races. Neon signs advertised restaurants and shops, as well as some more unsavory establishments.

People milled about freely, laughing and talking with abandon. An Axor with pink skin was standing at the corner, winking seductively at the passerby. Vendors lined one side of the street, selling foods and beverages from planets far and wide. Human Kyle caught sight of a red and white vendor stall and made his way over, guiding Aurrah through the throng. It soon became apparent that humans don’t often visit - Human Kyle drew a lot of attention. Aurrah worried that the attention wouldn’t prove beneficial to them.

“Hey,” Human Kyle said as they reached the vendor stall. “Could you point me to the Vulcan Room?”

The Veluuqi in charge of the stall nodded and spoke to Human Kyle in a language Aurrah couldn’t decipher. Kyle turned to xem to translate. “The Veluuqi said that the Vulcan Room is hidden beneath the Senate building. To get in, we need an invitation from the Chief.” Kyle thanked the Veluuqi worker and handed xem a few credits [galactic currency].

“Human Kyle, I have a question,” Aurrah ventured timidly.

“Go on.”

“How will we be getting an invitation from the Chief?”

“Ah,” Human Kyle said with a wink. “I happen to have a friend that can help us with that.”

“You have a lot of friends,” Aurrah mused. Many of Human Kyle’s friends had helped them out of trouble in the past.

“That’s what happens when you become an infamous human smuggler,” Human Kyle said with a laugh. “But when we go in there, let me do the talking. No offense, but they’d eat a Ter’un like you alive. Metaphor,” he added hastily as Aurrah went visibly pale. “It’s a figure of speech. They won’t literally consume you.”

“Good,” Aurrah said, breathing a sigh of relief.

They soon arrived at the opulent Senate building. The Colite doors - made of one of the most coveted minerals in the galaxy - gleamed a light blue-green in the evening sunlight. A pair of Veluuqi guards stood watch outside, each of them adorned in the red robes exclusively worn by the Chief’s Guard - the most elite force in any of the fringe planets. As Aurrah and Human Kyle approached the guards, one of them stepped forwards.

“State your name and your business here,” the guard said forcefully.

“My name is Kyle Harris, and this is my companion Aurrah. We’re here to speak with the Chief.”

“The chief only takes appointments.”

Human Kyle leaned close to the guard and whispered something in xir ear. The guard immediately turned pale and opened the door for them.

“Of course, sir. I’m so sorry. Enjoy your visit.”

Kyle nodded and led Aurrah through the doors and into the colossal atrium. A gilded statue filled the center of the room, depicting a large Axor wielding a saber. “Is that the lost Axor statue?” Aurrah asked disbelievingly. “They have been searching for it for ages. I cannot believe it has been on Veluuq all this time.”

“Yeah,” Human Kyle said. “The Chief stole it during the first galactic war. It’s the best kept secret on the planet.”

Aurrah nodded slowly. “I see. In that case, I’ll be sure to not mention it.”

Human Kyle led Aurrah through a series of hallways until they reached a colossal open-air room. At the far end of the room, a human male sat on an ornately gilded throne and shouted at a Veluuqi before him.

“What do you mean the Axor hijacked our freighter? We had ten tons of Anjorrian Spice on that ship! Do you know how much that’s worth? Recover it. I don’t care what it takes. I want my spice back.”

The man dismissed the Veluuqi, and caught sight of Human Kyle and Aurrah for the first time.

“Kyle Harris?” He asked incredulously. “Is that you, Kyle?”

Human Kyle nodded. “It’s me. In the flesh.”

Aurrah found that expression particularly peculiar. What other form would Human Kyle take? The local flora and fauna?

“This is my friend Aurrah,” Human Kyle introduced xem. “Aurrah, meet Ryan Lourd. We met when he was still a regular freighter pilot. He hired me to help find some lost, ah, cargo. Ryan and I have been working together ever since.”

“That’s Chief Lourd to you now,” he said jokingly. “So to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Actually, Ryan, we came to request the assistance of your organization. You may have heard about the Axor leader, Oleyana, abdicating her throne?” Ryan nodded. “Well, we’ve come across reliable sources that all say she’s actually being held captive as part of a coup.”

“We,” Human Kyle indicated Aurrah and himself, “Are trying to rescue her. The Axor are committing horrific war crimes in her absence, and we’ve heard rumors of rumors that they’re planning to commit high galactic treason.”

“The comings and goings of the Axor are of no concern to my empire.”

“Do you really think that’s true?” challenged Human Kyle. “You know as well as I do that the Axor have no tolerance for crime. If you don’t help us now, the Axor will abolish the Galactic Federation and everyone will be forced to live under Axor law. The laissez-faire of the Federation will be gone. When that day comes, they will hunt down every last one of you. Every. Last. One.”

“You make a good point,” Ryan mused. After a short pause he continued. “We’d have to get the council’s approval. I think we could swing it.”

[lemliv]

SUGAR RUSH AU CHARACTER DESCRIPTIONS

this is. Very long.

Ranboo (Aka Ranboo Le Quorish)

Candy: Licorice and Taffy !

Powermove: String-Shot

A speed boost that starts fast and gets gradually slower - two licorice poles shoot up from the ground while a string of taffy wraps around them, acting as a sling shot to propel him forward!

Racer type: ??

Go to phrase:

Description:

Ranboo is a racer- at least he thinks he is. Sure he’s never completed a race and glitches the ones he is in but he can’t escape the nagging feeling that he belongs on the race track. That things will be better once he proves that he can finish a race.

For now, however, he’s learning how to be content with his foggy memory, constant glitched state, and watching from the side lines. It’s all he can do after all.

Tubbo (aka Toby Jollypop Jr)

Candy: Green apple Jolly Ranchers and Jaw Breakers

Powermove: Jolly Rollers

A protective shield that forms around Tubbo’s Kart to temporarily make him invincible and causes other players to bounce off

Racer type: Tank

can take a lot of damage at the expense of speed

Go to phrase(s): “Let’s break some jaws!” / “Sugar!”

Description:

Tubbo has a good life. He places well in races, he has a best friend, a nice house, really anything a video game character can ask for. But he can’t shake the feeling of something being wrong. And all signs point to the figure who disappears mid race after messing something up.

With enough determination, and some would argue carelessness, he is determined to figure out who the glitch really is. And more importantly, he’s determined to help him.

Tommy (Aka Tommy Sowers)

Candy: Sour Patch Kids

Powermove: Sour-Sweet-Swift

A basic speedboost! He maintains a higher speed for a short amount of time - its extended the further behind he is

Racer Type: Starter Racer

A type exclusive to Tommy. It makes him available on easy mode at all times (booting out the 9th spot if not on the roster already) Overall he’s a very well rounded but middle ground racer who is assisted by who he races with

Go to phrase(s): “Patch up your karts and let’s get sour!” / “Spice!”

Description:

Tommy is a racer in every meaning of the word. He likes competition, he’s loud and energetic, and he always seems to be going. Tommy loves his life and doesn’t get why others wouldn’t. He gets along with everyone, and wouldn’t mind if everything stayed the same.

Wilbur (aka Wilbur Cin O’Spice)

Candy: Cinnamon Discs

Powermove: Cinnamon and Spice

Wilbur throws up a cloud of spices temporarily blinding nearby racers

Racer type: Skill required

A moderate to eh racer when not properly used, but an amazing one to a devoted player. Has great handling, the kart flows through shortcuts easily, and power move is useful when applied right

Go to phrase: “Let’s spice things up!”

Description:

Wilbur is analytical, if you ask him he was simply coded that way. Always trying to find the best route and path, and figuring out solutions. It’s what he’s known for! So when Phil retired unexpectedly, giving no answers nor reason, Wilbur has determined that it’s now his job to find out why. More importantly, to get him back.

Techno(blade)

Candy: strawberry bon-bon (strawberry granny-candy)

Powermove: Straw-brawl

Temporarily gains more spikes on his kart, making him harder to hit and causing more damage to others

Racer type: Tank

can take a lot of damage at the expense of speed

Go to phrase: less lines - more so lots of noises like HEH when he gets hit and laughter when he hits others

Description:

Techno loves a good challenge, and as of recently races have been lacking. He doesn’t find the same enjoyment that he used to back before Phil stopped racing. So instead, he focuses on studying. Namely other games, but really anything he can study will do. He claims he’s read countless books from around the arcade, and will gladly give the information out if asked.

Phil

Candy: Green Peppermint Candy Canes

Powermove: ?

Racer type: ?

Go to phrase: ?

Description:

Phil used to be a racer. Arguably the best racer in the game prior to his retirement. After disappearing mid race, and not coming back until a week later he made a simple announcement. He would be stepping down as the leader of the racers and wouldn’t be racing for an undisclosed amount of time. Anytime anyone begged for the whys or whats, his lips were sealed, and still are.

Dream

Candy: Toxic Waste and Juicy Drop Pops

Powermove: Toxic Sludge

His kart lets out a liquid that causes racers behind him to slow down, it disappears after a short amount of time

Racer type: Speedy

Fastest karts at the expense of less handling and can't take a lot of punches

Dream has the fastest kart

Go to phrase(s): “Oh come on now- Smile!” / “Some people just can’t handle their sour candy”

Description:

Dream is the new leader of the Sugar Rush racers. When Phil disappeared he noticed how disorganized everything became and jumped to fix it, figuratively keeping the game running during hours. When Phil returned and didn’t take back the position, no one had any opposition to him staying. Dream runs the game democratically, seeing himself as someone to enforce rules rather than solely make them, and he tries his best to make sure everything is fun and perfect for the racers.

Sapnap

Candy: Red Hots

Powermove: Too Red-Hot to Handle

A speedboost that involves flames bursting out of Sapnap’s exhausts speeding him up until they burn out and he slows down quickly

Racer type: Well-rounded

Doesn’t have a particular strength or weakness - just well rounded!

Go to phrase(s): “BOOM BABY!” / “If you can’t handle the heat - get off the track!”

Description:

One of Dream’s closest friends, prior to Phil’s retirement, he was known as a dedicated and passionate racer. Now he’s one of the most trusted advisors for Dream, letting his opinions be heard with a blunt yet passionate emotion-fueled manner.

George

Candy: Blue Raspberry Gummy Rings

Powermove: [unnamed - send in suggestions!]

Temporarily gains the ability to bounce off of objects / racers rather than hitting and slowing down- repeated bouncing also causes a small speed boost

Racer type: Skill required

A moderate to eh racer when not properly used, but an amazing one to a devoted player. Has great handling, the kart flows through shortcuts easily, and power move is useful when applied right

Go to phrase(s): "I could beat you in my sleep!” / “Guess I’ll have to bounce back”

Description:

Dream’s other closest friend, standing in opposition to Sapnap, George could be amazing if he tried at racing a bit more. He’s known for sleeping in and showing indifference towards most things. Though for Dream, he knows George provides an analytical and logical thought process that can’t be beat.

Fundy

Candy: Candy Corn and Caramel

Powermove: Trick or Treat!

Fundy throws a random item from his cart that looks noticeably self made - sometimes it’s catastrophically bad, sometimes it just helps him, and other times it actually might assist a racer nearby !

Racer type: ??

Mysteriously - Fundy’s stats seem to change every so often though, surely it's just people remembering wrong?

Go to phrase(s): “Stay crafty and stay ahead!” / “Clever as a fox and just as sweet!”

Description:

Jack of all trades - master of none suits Fundy relatively well if you don’t take coding into account. Fundy used to be Phil’s advisor on coding when he was the leader, but since his retirement and Dream’s decline of Fundy’s offer to be his advisor, he’s picked up new hobbies. He fiddles and invents things, including messing with his own kart.

With experience that no one else has but his own reservations, Fundy has his own opinions on what’s going on in Sugar Rush.

EXTRA CHARACTERS

Kristin (non-racer)

Description: Bartender at a different video game called Tapper - her and Phil grew close during his break from racing and are now dating. She doesn’t play a big role in the story I just wanted to add her because they’re so sweet.

Jack Manifold (aka Jack Manifold)

Candy/sweet: Bomber pops

Powermove: [send in name suggestions}

Not so much a temporary boost as it is that when you fall off the map with Jack - instead of dying you’re placed back on the track!

Racer type:Speedy

Fastest karts at the expense of less handling and can't take a lot of punches

Go to phrase(s): “The Manifold always comes back!” “Bombs away!”

Description:

Minor rival to Tommy - just designed him because I wanted to. Does have his own track though - it’s cold / ice cream themed.

[writemekpop]

Get Wet | Na Jaemin

Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

Summary: Your super hot and crazy ex Jaemin turns up at your swim class. He becomes impossible to resist...

Genre: Suggestive, Ex boyfriend! Jaemin

Word Count: 1.1k

Warning: Sexual content, barely clothed Jaemin 

Gif: @ohoshi

Drumming your fingers on your thighs, you sat on the poolside bench. Today was your first day coaching the mother-and-baby swimming class. Three families were already in the water; and just one was left to arrive. 

“Where the hell is she? I’m starting. I’m starting now,” you hissed at your senior coach, Haechan. 

“Just wait – it’s only been ten minutes,” he pleaded. 

After your break-up with Jaemin one month ago, you’d dropped all adult swimming classes. 

Jaemin regularly swam at Oakwood Leisure centre – in fact, that’s where you met. And the idea of spending a whole hour with him – half-naked, all tanned and gorgeous - sent painful heat to your core.   

The truth was, one look at that knife-jaw and you’d be begging him to get in bed with you.  

But that was never going to happen. Jaemin was hot like a house on fire… and you were done getting burnt. 

So, you signed up for baby classes only. Jaemin didn’t have a baby. Jaemin didn’t even have a niece or nephew. This was the only place you were totally safe from him.  

“I swear to god, if that woman doesn’t arrive-“ you growled. 

You noticed that Haechan’s face was a painful red. Placing one finger on your jaw, Haechan slowly turned your face forwards.

“Y/n. You look good.” 

Oh no. Oh hell no. You knew that low, teasing voice. You knew that everyone in this room wants to fuck me tone. 

The last person to join your class wasn’t some mom. Cradling a chubby baby boy in the curves of his muscled arms… was Jaemin. 

As he met your eye, he chewed the corner of his pouty lips, making them swell red. 

“Sorry I’m late.” He lifted up the chubby baby. “My friend Tazmeen got held up at the last minute, so she sent me with her son instead.” 

He grinned that lopsided grin that set your body blazing – and he knew it.  

“I’ll… just get in, then,” Jaemin said, walking over to the metal poolside stairs. 

Jaemin paused, and his naked, toned abs were glaring in your face. His navy-blue swim trunks sat low on his hips.

The last time you saw those trunks, you were desperately yanking them off his hips in Renjun’s pool house after Jaemin’s hand squeezing your thigh during the party had become too much to bear.

No. You bit your tongue, forcing yourself to focus. You weren’t going to think about that. 

“Right!” You clapped your hands. “I’m Y/n, I’ll be your instructor for today.”

Now was the moment for you to climb into the water. That meant being just inches from Jaemin’s honey skin, the same water that dripped off him swirling around you too…

Just then, you had an idea. You could teach the class from outside the water.  

“Okay guys, the first exercise is really simple-“ you started. 

Haechan interrupted you. “Y/n, you’re forgetting something. Getting in?”

Shooting Haechan a dirty glare, you climbed into the pool. 

All the time, you kept your eyes firmly away from Jaemin. You could feel the heat radiating off his skin. You could physically feel Jaemin’s smugness at the chaos he was creating in you. 

“So, all you have to do is hold the baby’s waist while they paddle for three seconds. Can I have a volunteer to demonstrate?” you asked. 

Not a single hand went up. Except, of course, Jaemin’s. His coal-black eyes glimmered as if to say, You know you want me. 

Just then, Jaemin’s tongue flicked lazily over his pink lips, leaving them glistening. Your heart jumped into double time. They’re just lips. They’re just lips, you chanted in your mind. 

“Well… if there aren’t any volunteers, I can demonstrate-“ 

Haechan interrupted again. “Um, Jaemin volunteered.”

You swore under your breath. 

“Okay. Can you please demonstrate?” You moved one millimetre closer to Jaemin. 

Jaemin wrapped his big hands around the baby’s waist. But his grip was too loose - the poor baby was almost dunking under. 

Instinctively, you grabbed Jaemin’s hands to correct him. His slightly rough hands rubbed against the back of yours, sending sparks shooting into your skin.  

Then, Jaemin made the most subtle of movements. 

If you weren’t already aching with pent-up pleasure, maybe you wouldn’t have noticed it…

 If you hadn’t spent each of the last thirty nights imagining Jaemin’s long fingers slipping into your panties, maybe you wouldn’t have noticed it… 

But when Jaemin’s thumbs slipped over yours, trapping them, you certainly did notice. 

“Is that right?” Jaemin said, his whisper scratching against the naked skin of your ear. 

“Yes”, you answered. You heard your voice crack, and felt a smug grin spread over Jaemin’s face. Damn it.   

When the red hour hand finally hit 6PM, you were the first one scrabbling to the exit door.  

Until, of course… that damn voice stopped you. 

“Y/n… your jacket.”

You turned, cheeks burning, and saw your blue jacket dangling between Jaemin’s thumb and forefinger. An unwanted memory pushed into your mind of Jaemin dangling your panties the same way as you got out of the shower one Saturday morning. Come and get ‘em…I dare you.

You cleared your throat. 

No. You’d promised yourself you were never getting back together. Ever. 

“I miss you, Y/n,” Jaemin said, under his breath, placing the jacket down on the bench, too close to him. The baby he brought slept in a carry cot on the bench. 

Although… didn’t you read that article online about sleeping with your ex one last time? Kind of…a cleanse? Apparently, it could help you overcome unresolved feelings. 

You’ll never know exactly what happened next. Was it you caved in to the want, the need for Jaemin that throbbed through your body? Was it Jaemin who yanked you forward and destroyed your barriers with his hot, arrogant lips? 

Either way, what happened next was so wrong… yet felt incredibly right. 

Because, suddenly, Jaemin’s hands were everywhere: your dripping neck, back, thighs. His hot lips hovered a millimetre over yours, teasing, till you couldn’t take it anymore. And you kissed him back, hard, your lips clashing against his.  

You fell down into a seat on the blue bench lining the pool wall. The cold tiles pressed against your bare back as Jaemin sucked your bottom lip.  

“Jaemin,” you moaned, as his eager fingers slipped under the strap of your swimming costume. Shrugging the strap off your shoulder wasn't a decision. It was an instinct, as irresistible as flinching away from a flame. “This means nothing. We’re over.”

Just then, you heard a soft whimper from the baby. 

Your head snapped towards the carry cot, but Jaemin’s mouth on your neck had your eyes rolling shut again. 

You could hear Jaemin grinning. “I couldn’t agree more.” 

---

MASTERLIST

[the-last-kenobi]

Most of your fics absolutely destroyed me emotionally so, on my own risk, may I request #13 “You shouldn’t be this easy to carry" with Qui-Gon and padawan Obi-Wan? Thank you!

Ohhh I’m happy to write this one! Thank you! (Always pleased to hear I’ve emotionally wrecked innocent people lol)

From this various prompts list.

_

Qui-Gon descended the ramp of his ship with something less than his usual grace, his expression was rather sour. Other than that, he looked his usual self, untidy but comfortable and serene.

He waved to the attendant heading towards the ship, and bowed to a small mechanic droid that squeaked with excitement, ran in circles around him, and then darted off after the attendant.

Qui-Gon chuckled. He paused to take a deep breath, tasting the metallic scent of Coruscant on the air, but also the warm and familiar notes of the Temple, of home. It was good to be back. Tedious diplomatic assignments that ran well overtime were nothing worth dwelling on, especially when it was done alone.

“Master Jinn!” a warm voice called.

He turned his head and saw Shaak Ti walking towards him, a smile on her lovely face with its striking colors.

“Knight Ti,” he greeted her. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” she answered. “I’m just about to depart to Alderaan; it’s a royal wedding and I’m the token Jedi invitee,” she informed him, but there was no offense in her voice. Alderaan was well known to be genuinely welcoming, and had been more than courteous in their dealings with the Order for centuries on end.

“Enjoy it,” Qui-Gon advised her. “Weddings are rarely something you’d like to miss.”

“I will,” she promised. “Oh, is your Padawan around? I was hoping to catch him when he returned, he forgot to sign off on his departure notice and was scheduled for three shifts in the crèche, which he obviously missed.”

Qui-Gon’s head tilted to one side, and he frowned.

It was obvious that Shaak Ti believed that Obi-Wan had accompanied him on his mission, which had in fact been a solo assignment. The twenty-one-year-old Padawan had remained behind for class rotations.

And Obi-Wan had never missed... well, anything. He was notoriously early for everything, beyond punctual. It was almost annoying.

Perhaps he’d finally slipped into a belated teenage fit of laziness, or he’d fallen so behind on class work that he’d forgotten about the crèche. Both would be extremely out of character, but one instance of this in nearly nine years of training could perhaps be excused.

Shaak Ti was waiting for an answer.

“I’ll talk to him,” he promised, revealing nothing. “Thank you for letting me know. I had no idea.”

She waved it off. “These things happen. You have a good student on your hands; he’s easily forgiven.”

Qui-Gon smiled.

~

The door to their quarters opened for him with a casual wave of the hand. Jedi did not lock their doors often; privacy was an understood thing, something not casually breached. No Jedi would enter another’s rooms without first asking permission.

He wasn’t sure what he expected.

Obi-Wan in the common area, reading.

Or Obi-Wan out and about, somewhere off with some of his more trouble making friends. (Quinlan Vos.)

He was not expecting to find Obi-Wan huddled in the corner of their kitchenette, half-hidden in his cloak, knees drawn up under his chin, crying.

Obi-Wan saw him enter and flinched away, shuddering.

Qui-Gon stared.

The entire scene was so unexpected, so wrong, that for a full five seconds he simply stood there, unable to process it. Obi-Wan had buried his face in his knees and was attempting to stifle his tears, seemingly by holding his breath, which was only making him shake harder.

Qui-Gon jolted out of his paralysis and stepped nearer, dropping onto one knee, sensing that looming over his Padawan was not going to help.

“Padawan?” he asked cautiously.

Obi-Wan looked up reluctantly. His face was a sickly grey; his cheeks were bright red and his blue eyes were feverish. They darted around, seeming to fix on nothing.

“Obi-Wan,” the Master tried again, warily reaching out a hand and resting it on top of one of Obi-Wan’s, clenched around his knee.

Obi-Wan took a rattling breath, more tears spilling down his cheeks. “...What... day is it...?” he gasped.

Qui-Gon’s chest tightened with something close to terror. What in all the galaxy was going on here?

“It’s the 29th,” he said gently. “Taungsday. I returned a day late from my solo mission. Do you remember that?”

Obi-Wan’s tears had increased throughout the brief speech. “Y-yes.”

“All right,” said Qui-Gon, struggling to remain as calm and patient as possible. “All right. Can you tell me what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, his expression crumbling. Suddenly he very much resembled the boy Qui-Gon had met on Bandomeer, uncertain and frightened, although even then he had not cried. This was different.

“Are you sure?” Qui-Gon pressed.

Obi-Wan nodded, strangling a loud sob by clapping one hand over his mouth. He said something, but of course it was impossible to understand behind his clamped fingers.

“What?” asked his Master.

“...so...stupid,” Obi-Wan burst out angrily through his tears. “I just... don’t feel well.”

“Don’t feel well?” Qui-Gon stared at his apprentice in confusion. “You’re sick? Obi-Wan, why didn’t you just go to the Halls?”

Obi-Wan shuddered. More tears slid down over his flushed cheeks. “I...I...I fell,” he said, sounding deeply uncertain. “I was working, and it was late, and I fell. I think I fell. I can’t walk. I can barely move. I don’t know how long it’s been—”

Qui-Gon was already moving, alarm ringing in his head like sirens. In two seconds he had Obi-Wan in his arms, cradled like a child, his head resting under Qui-Gon’s chin.

“You shouldn’t be this easy to carry,” he said tensely. “You haven’t had anything to eat or drink since you fell?”

“Some... some water,” Obi-Wan murmured. His skin was blazing hot against Qui-Gon’s, a sick and feverish heat. He had stopped crying — his tears seemed to have stemmed from a combination of confusion and shame, not pain — but he seemed on the verge of passing out. “I... I got some water... don’t remember when...”

“Stay awake,” Qui-Gon ordered. He was striding down the hallways, ignoring the few bystanders who watched them pass with bewilderment and concern. He did send a grateful nod to one young woman who raised her comm in her hand at him, asking a silent question, and at his gesture raised it to her lips and murmured ‘Tell the Healers that Master Jinn is bringing in his Padawan. Have someone ready.’

Obi-Wan murmured something vague.

“Stay awake,” insisted Qui-Gon. “Don’t fall asleep.”

Obi-Wan moaned but nodded, forcing his eyes to stay open. “I...I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” The words came out harsh and insincere in Qui-Gon’s urgency, and he realized it, because he dropped a swift kiss to the top of the fevered head in apology. Obi-Wan relaxed ever so slightly.

They arrived in the Halls of Healing and were immediately received by a Healer and his apprentice, who had Obi-Wan safely tucked in a bed and monitored in less than two minutes. Obi-Wan had closed his eyes against the bright light and seemed in danger of falling asleep again.

“Stay awake just a little longer, Padawan Kenobi,” the Healer instructed kindly. “I’m fairly sure of your diagnosis but I have to be more certain before I can administer treatment. Then you can sleep.”

“Yes, Healer,” rasped the young man.

Qui-Gon watched from the wall, his hands tucked deep in his sleeves to hide how they trembled. The shock of the last quarter hour was setting in, and he scrambled to keep his wits about him, worried about what this diagnosis might be. He still remembered Obi-Wan’s confusion about the day, his bewildered tears, and that memory was not going to be going away anytime soon.

He had been far too light in his arms.

Just how long had Obi-Wan been trapped in their rooms, unable to call for help and too confused to figure out a way around that? How long had he gone without eating and sleeping?

He found out.

An hour later, Obi-Wan was fast asleep, hooked up to an IV and blissfully pain-free due to a dose of pills he had managed to swallow. The Healer turned to Qui-Gon with a weary smile.

“You’re all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I’ve just returned from a mission, but I wasn’t hurt.”

“That’s good to know. I was asking about shock, however,” the Healer said gently. “I know this can’t have been a pleasant homecoming.”

Qui-Gon’s throat tightened, but he said nothing.

The Healer seemed to understand. “Obi-Wan has contracted a strain of the flu,” he explained, moving past the brief surge of emotion. “As you know, most strains of the flu are easily combated these days and many species have evolved or inoculated to the point where it’s hardly a concern. But sometimes the flu is stronger. In this case, it’s clear that it’s job was made easy. I don’t think Padawan Kenobi was eating or sleeping properly before the sickness began to set in. It would explain the severity of his malnutrition, and his confusion.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes flickered to the bed where Obi-Wan was sleeping, the fever still burning in his cheeks.

“...How long?” he asked.

“A few days at most,” the Healer said. “But I suspect it’s a habit that’s related to stress and overwork. Does Obi-Wan struggle with stress or insomnia?”

The Master hesitated a moment, opening his mouth to deny it, and then stopping to think better of it.

“...Maybe,” he admitted. The hesitation stung. Shouldn’t he know? “He’s very private with his habits when we’re in Temple. He prefers to study alone in his room, and we usually only manage to share one meal a day during his busier semesters, if that.”

The Healer nodded. He didn’t look or sound at all accusatory when he said, “That’s understandable. I’m going to suggest keeping a closer eye on that. Don’t force him out of his comfort zone, at least not right away, but make sure he understands that three square meals — or better yet, a light meal or snack every two or three hours — is expected of him. As is sleep.”

Qui-Gon nodded, his throat tightening again to the point of pain.

“Rest easy, Master Jinn,” said the Healer, briefly laying a supportive hand on the taller Jedi’s shoulder. “He’ll pull through this. The illness, and everything else. I believe it’s nothing more than a bad habit formed from good intentions. There are crueler demons out there.”

“Yes, I know,” said Qui-Gon. And he did know. One didn’t reach Jedi Mastery without learning the galaxy for what it was.

But he didn’t think he would ever quite move past the shock of today, of carrying his adult apprentice in his arms, sick to the point of tears and helplessness, and then discovering that he could possibly have prevented this if he had paid a little more attention to Obi-Wan’s work habits.

Well. They would, as the Healer said, overcome this.

Qui-Gon drew up a chair to the side of the bed, resolving to wait until Obi-Wan woke, and slowly reached out and set his hand next to his Padawan’s. After a moment, Obi-Wan stirred, and even in his sleep he gave a contented sigh and shifted his hand, his fingers searching blindly for his Master’s hand. Qui-Gon took it and held it tightly.

They had overcome so many things in nearly a decade together.

They could handle this.

And besides, Qui-Gon told himself, even after Obi-Wan was Knighted, he would always be here to watch his back.

He would never abandon Obi-Wan.

_