#and fluff

[a-hermit-pining]

LADS Men React to You Pining for Them

Summary: POV Lads men wake up in your body, feeling your emotions. And the get to suffer MWAHAHAHAHHA

Pairing: Lads boys x gn reader

Genre: angst (only Zayne gets a pass)

AN: hmm I don't think I did the concept justice but I will return to it

(I do not own these characters + spoilers ahead)

Rafayel:

He has felt it every time. Every single time he brings up his pain, his years spent waiting for you, your abandonment of him, he sees the same pain flicker in your eyes.

Even when you remain unaware of the past, he sees it.

But for the first time, he feels it.

He does not know what timeline this is. Only that he watches himself lying on a bed, next to you.

Your hand, intertwined with his.

"Things will get difficult, and you may want to give up on me, Rafayel," your fingers ghost over his cheek. "Forgive me for bringing you into this trouble. For dragging you into my fate."

Words are not spoken aloud, yet he hears them ring in your mind.

"Forgive me," you whisper into the night. "What this love will cost us… might break your heart."

He watches as you lean over and press a kiss to his forehead.

And then, with a shaking breath, you utter the last of your fading words:

"Should the burden come to weigh on you… let go of this bond and return home."

Rafayel wakes to a thundering sky and rising tides, as if the world itself had shared the same dream.

Xavier:

He watches you stare into the sky.

"Return home, my liege," you whisper, fingers clutched tightly. "Your kingdom, your throne awaits you."

You fold your hands and pray to the stars. And Xavier feels it, the thrum of your power resonating through his heart.

Then, your hand tightens around your sword.

"You should not have bothered, my prince." Your voice is steady, but beneath it lies something fragile. "It was my fate to become the fuel for this world. You should have let fate play its part."

Somehow, you already know the secret he has desperately hidden from you.

"They say the only way to make this right is by giving away what always belonged to the world." Your hand rests over your heart. "Would it bring you back?"

Xavier reels at your thoughts.

"No!" he screams, the sound swallowed by the void. "You must not! There has to be another way!"

But you do not hear him.

You gaze into the mirror, addressing no one and yet, somehow, addressing him.

"If this is a farewell, then it is a poor one, my liege."

Then, finally, your voice softens.

"I hope this brings you back, my prince." You speak to him directly now. "Wherever you are, I hope this end grants me the wish to have you return to Philos."

Zayne:

"He never eats on time!"

The thought rings out loud, startling Zayne.

He watches you march toward him, and takes a moment to process where he is.

Pale. Tired. Are those acne? Has he really been living off vending machine junk?

A rapid-fire string of thoughts follows.

He hears your frustration, your worry, and then he sees it.

The other Zayne, a version of himself, is yanked away from his desk by you.

Were you always this perceptive? How had he never noticed the concern in your eyes?

"Treat me to a second breakfast."

The command is uncompromising. He watches as you march toward his car, not even waiting for a response.

And he sees himself follow.

Or rather, being dragged.

Then, in the rumbling car, he watches as you drive.

And just as you turn to check on him, he sees himself, fast asleep.

With a maneuver that seems life-threatening, you somehow manage to pull a blanket over him, while still driving.

"Foreseer my ass," you scoff.

Your words leave him scrambling before he can even realize them, jolting him awake.

He blinks, now fully alert, staring straight at you. Back in his body.

Sylus:

Despair. Guilt. Unrelenting heartache.

He sees himself fallen at your feet.

And then, he sees your fall.

On your knees, you pull him close, holding him tight, and for the first time, he feels the weight of your helplessness.

"There is no forgiveness," you whisper.

And he realizes—you are alone.

That back then, in that abyss of loss, you were always alone. Unlike him, you never had the hope of return.

Bearing the burden of right and wrong, you were alone in your doom.

He buckles under the weight of it. This grief, he knows it well. He has felt a fragment of it.

But even then, he had known you would return.

But you?

For you, there was nothing.

Nothing but the void of loss.

"It will be alright," he whispers, but his voice is frail, failing to comfort you.

"I will return to you. I am not cross with you. I still love you." He repeats until all but the echo of his voice remains.

Caleb:

He wakes to fire.

The burning home.

The one that became both nightmare and reality.

Flames devour everything, the heat suffocating, the smoke curling into the sky.

Then, he sees you.

You scrape against the concrete, pulling yourself forward when your body refuses to move.

Your fingers tighten around his locket, and he feels the stab of pain pierce your heart.

"Caleb!" you call weakly, voice cracking, gathering what little strength you have left to scream louder.

You drag yourself forward, until your arms give out.

He sees your skin peeling against the jagged ground. Your blistered nail beds. The blood seeping from fingers that have already lost their nails beneath the heat and debris.

Yet, you keep moving.

"Stop!" he wants to scream. He wills himself to close his eyes, to escape this vision, but it grips him, holds him hostage.

And in this moment of agony, he wants to stop you, wants to pull you away from the fire, but he fails.

He is nothing more than a spectator to your desperate cries.

To your pleas for him and Grandma.

"I am sorry," he begs.

He had let you suffer alone in hopeless grief, had left you to rot in sorrow.

And perhaps this vision, this endless, searing nightmare, was his penance.

[thoughts-rambles]

"Asmodeus hates being kissed on the face," was a fact that got shared to you early on your visit to the Devildom. It was a shocking one at that, the Avatar of Lust? Doesn't like being kissed on the face? The look of shock on your face prompted the brother to explain that it was because he hated having his beautiful makeup ruined, that he'd simply have no time left in the world if he had to reapply makeup every time someone wanted to kiss him. Plus, he would add, kisses on the lips were far more fun.

Asmodeus, in reality, hated being kissed on the face because it felt too domestic, too loving, too unreachable. It was a secret he would take to his grave, hidden beneath carefully woven lies, because the truth would be far too vulnerable. There was no one who could love the real him, so he'd settle for the physical intimacy that sex had brought, but refuse to indulge in the emotional connection that was associated with soft kisses being peppered on his face. The tender moments that could be shared between true lovers was simply not meant for him, and the quicker he pushed it away the easier it would be to accept. He'd simply stick to having random demons worship his body in other ways. Ways that'd more quickly- but not sufficiently- fill the gaping void in his chest yearning for love. He was the Avatar of Lust, and that's all he'd ever be. And he was okay with that, happy even.

...until you came along.

[starlinggirll]

https://www.tumblr.com/bonniesbluee/782217737033367552/okay-so-for-part-2-of-art-x-stripper-reader-you

not to be dramatic but i will die if i don’t see more of this au... YOURE MY FAVORITE WRITER NOW PLEASE BEAUTIFUL QUEEN I NEED MORE OF THIS I BEG

you havent been to work for 2 weeks now.

being art's...fuck buddy? girlfriend? whatever you were? it was time consuming. from spending days in bed doing absolutely nothing but talking, or fucking, or cuddling, from him taking you to shopping sprees.

like right now, laying on his chest after a long session of sex is something you have become used to. oddly enough, its rather comforting. the way his hands travel from your ass to your scalp, massaging you while also giving you the outmost amount of GENTLE affection. gentle. gentle affection is something you havent experienced, so this is definitely new.

but you like it, love it even. you subconsciously have started to search for his attention. you tuck your head under his chin, and he rubs your temple. and he noticed it; how you are more open with him...how the relationship has turned into something of convenience to something more...real? raw. "you did so good today, like always," he whispers while rubbing your side, smiling as he sees how sleepy you look.

"such a good girl." he grabs your thigh, hiking it up around his waist so the embrace turns more intimate, passionate. you tuck your face into his neck, forehead pressing against his shoulder.

and when you wake up? he's still there. snoring against your hair, his arms wrapped tightly around you. you go back to sleep, because the position is that comfortable. he has somehow managed to make you feel safe.

but you try to not think about that. after all, this is just sex for him, right? you dont notice the way he looks at you when you're looking away. obviously you're attractive, you're a stripper. but he sees past those lustful features and notices the little details; like how your eyebrows furrow whenever you think too hard, or how you need to constantly adjust your body whenever you're sitting down for too long.

his hands go to your neck, softly stroking it before he tilts your head and kisses you. "good morning," he breathes out, not giving you a chance to answer before he's kissing you again. and a few kisses turn into a sloppy, lazy makeout session.

and inevitably it turns into morning sex. but you like sex with him. he turns every sexual act into a more deeper, intimate one.

which in turn makes you crave for another day in his arms.

[pafsshark]

SHIRE FURRY :3

hiiii!! It's me again! Today I got the idea that OC from @shiremwa Very similar to a Border Collie. And then I got the idea to draw her OC as a furry (◕‿◕✿)

after that, I still had the strength to draw my own O.C. (Lolita) in the form of a furry (She is a "Blinx" — a hybrid of the Canadian lynx and the European (common) lynx).🧡

and I didn't draw a mini-comic of Lolita and Shire with sketches anymore. POV: If they had met for the first time, lmao

If anything: the joke is that Lolita, speaking Czech (her second native language), her voice is slightly rougher, but speaking English, she sounds quite normal and kind.

I love oc x canon from shirewma 🛐🩷

in the sketch, if anything, Shire and Jacob

[gabstriessomethingnew]

I have seen a couple fics where Gwaine is the one trying to figure out if Merlin is queer or not so he can date him. Love them all but I actually need the opposite.

Listen!

I know we all took one look at that man and was like yep Gwaine is bisexual. But Merlin is oblivious af when it comes to shit like that.

And the rest of the group is like 'Merlin, obviously he's into men' but Merlin just keeps being like 'But how can we be sure' while the rest of the group are just staring at Merlin like ????

The thing is that Gwaine talks about his sex escapades with everyone but Merlin cause he's like hardcore trying to get with that man so he doesn't want to be to raunchy since he thinks it will scare him off. Merlin, meanwhile, is just like waiting for the confirmation. Like one sec away from kissing him only stopping himself cause he doesn't know if Gwaine would hate him as a friend afterwards.

Gwaine, on the other hand, is flirting up a storm but won't take that next step, waiting for Merlin to be the one to start the relationship since Merlin must certainly know he's interested and he's never tried to reciprocate.

So they're both pining for each other a bunch, as in Merlin is tripping over his feet every time Gwaine smiles, Gwaine taking time out of every day to go make sure Merlin has eaten and just cause he wants to spend time with him, and the others are getting seriously frustrated about it and just keep trying to push Merlin in that direction. But he legit. Doesn't. Get. It. No matter how hard they try.

It ends when a fling of Gwaine's shows up to Camelot and tries to proposition Gwaine and he says no and Merlin takes that as absolute confirmation that he's not into men. Meanwhile, Gwaine thinks he's completely turned off Merlin because his ex showed up.

Then Merlin and Gwaine's ex get to talking at some point and he mentions how good Gwaine was in bed or something and Merlin stops on a dime and is like: 'Wait. Gwaine is into men?!?'

Gwaine's pouting in his room and Merlin comes barreling in like 'YOU LIKE MEN!?! WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING'

And Gwaine's like 'YOU LIKE ME?!? WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING'

And then they kiss and everyone laughs at Merlin's stupidity

Anyway I think it would be neat!

[wickerwax]

to wit -- too witty (Codywan First Kiss Bingo #5)

(Shout-out to @panravenc who made a post about sick codywan headcanons that got me thinking about how I would play it! ^^)

Cody strode on deck with his helmet already in place and precisely on time, and Obi-Wan’s attention snapped onto him like a piqued nexu.

Item One: Cody was, until now without fail, a minute or two early at a minimum.

Item Two: Cody tended to prefer his helmet off when they were having this sort of intra-ship meeting, especially in hyperspace, and especially when he had more reason to glare people down than he needed access to his in-helmet comms.

Item Three: His dear Commander had the very slightest unsteadiness in his gait, which was practically screaming something is wrong.

He nodded to Cody, who signalled him to start. His suspicion went into the stratosphere and onwards immediately. When he reached out to get a sense of him, Cody’s shields felt wobbly, and there was a throbbing sort of discomfort leaking through.

Still, he wasn’t about to have an argument about it here with witnesseswhen Cody was clearly trying to fly under the sensor-net.Obi-Wan went through the updates they had – reiterated the ETA on the drop into sublight, the overview of the supply list, and requests for changes to be passed on the the Quartermaster first. Consolidation helped avoid mistakes.

Also Quartermaster Cross (apparently short for I Will Be Cross-Referencing This And It Had Better Match Or I’ll Be Taking The Difference Out Of Your Bones) was a dedicated and extremely efficient man, and Obi-Wan had no interest in making his life harder so – to him, first.

Cody sent text-comms to his ‘padd a couple of times, and nodded along, but did not speak, did not remove his helmet. He had clearly locked his knees to keep from wobbling. Obi-Wan wanted to offer him a seat but no one else was sitting and, given the entirety of the situation, the likelihood of being not only ignored but getting Cody’s active and monumental disapproval had him hesitating.

He wound the meeting down neatly, incredibly relieved that it was a short thing today, and requested (face in his ‘padd, voice deliberately absent, nothing odd about today!) that Cody stay behind for a quick conversation about a small incident in the training rooms.

Since the training rooms were the only place where incidents happened on a semi-regular basis and mostly consisted of ‘someone got elbowed in the nose again, please remind the men to be aware of their surroundings’ it was neither an unexpected nor interesting request.

The deck cleared but for the nav’ staff, and Cody, and Obi-Wan gave him a friendly gesture and said, “Office?”

The brightness in his voice and his narrowed eyes – facing only Cody – was as close as he could get to calling Cody on his bluff without making anyone else similarly suspicious. Here, anyway.

Cody paused for a long moment, then nodded slowly. Obi-Wan, with a smile like a bantha-heeler on a good day, herded Cody into the halls and towards their joint office.

He deposited Cody in his chair, keyed the door shut, and headed over to the kitchenette with his suspicions locked and loaded. “Helmet off, my dear.” he said, setting the jug to boil. “I’m quite sure it won’t be doing you any favours.”

Silence behind him.

Obi-Wan pulled out preferred mugs for the two of them, opting for comfort. “I’ve only those terrible fake-citron splemsip packets unfortunately, but they do help. Can’t expect a fresh citron-anything with supply lines being what they are.”

He twisted around to find Cody hesitating over his helmet, hands hovering. “My dear,” he said, gentle as a summer twilight, “I know you’re not feeling well, Cody. Let’s see what we can do about it.”

The release hissed, and Cody’s face appeared. Colour burned too bright across his cheeks and forehead and he was visibly sweating, his short curls lank with it. Shadows made hollows of his eyes. “Can’t – throat hurts.” he croaked. Sniffed. Congestion made it horribly bass-note.

Obi-Wan took him in and paused. “I think we might need more than splemsip.”

Cody made a sharp negative sign.

He huffed through his nose. “You have my solemn word vow to only forage through my personal supplies for flu relief.” Obi-Wan considered that for a moment, then added, “If it gets worrying, I will be telling Helix. I’m not losing my Commander to some common cold.”

He finished making the drinks and carried them over, delivering the splemsip directly into Cody’s hands. “Force, Cody, being in full armour can’t be comfortable. Or helping.”

Cody gave him one of his favoured blank-adjacent looks. This one said, I did what I had to do. Obi-Wan poked him gently in the shoulder and watched him sway far too heavily from very little provocation, then raised a slow eyebrow.

His Commander faltered briefly, then settled into the glare of a mantled hawk as he sipped at his medicinal citron drink.

Heaving a beleaguered sigh at his stubbornness, Obi-Wan investigated the state of supplies in their office. First, he unearthed a spare robe which he deposited on Cody’s lap with a suggestion that it might prove more comfortable than armour for the time being. Rustled up some mild painkillers – drew a complete blank on decongestants, but hopefully the drink would help with that.

When he excavated himself from the tiny ‘fresher with the pills, Cody had managed to remove his armour – stacked rather more messily than his wont – and was swathed in Obi-Wan’s spare robe over his blacks.

“Well done for seeing sense, Commander,” he said, amused. “Can I also tempt you to relocate to the couch?” It wasn’t sleeping length, but any amount of reclining had to be better than the hunching currently occurring. Poor Cody’s spine was in danger of getting stuck like that should the winds change. He was stoically refusing to make a face for the old adage to apply to, after all.

“Undressing wasn’t enough for you, General?” Cody rasped, though at least less painfully than earlier. He was smirking, but the lines around his mouth still read like aching.

“Anything you wish to do is enough, Cody darling, though I believe that conversation is best left for when you aren’t actively running a fever.” He fetched water, offered it and the painkillers. “These should help.”

“Is that true?” Cody asked, not moving to take them.

Obi-Wan blinked at him. “Well, strictly speaking they’re for pain, but they do tend to reduce fevers when those symptoms are happening in concert-”

“Anything I wish to do, Kenobi.”

He drew in a slow breath. “Ah. Commander, I-”

Cody stood up abruptly – and wavered, wobbling on his feet as his body objected to the motion. Obi-Wan moved without thinking, ducking under his arm and looping his own around Cody’s waist to take his weight. The metal cup clattered loudly on the durasteel, covering the much softer rattle of the pills in their soft tabs. The water was a loss, of course, although he was more concerned about it being a slip hazard. He tightened his hold.

Even through two thick layers, Cody’s skin was notably warm. “This is really not – Could we get you situated before -”

Cody’s fever-hot palms closed around his shoulders. He stopped speaking. He – well, he hadn’t meant to bring up the bantha in the room – hadn’t expected Cody to feed him so blatant a line, if he was honest. Had been playing his part according to Cody’s lead for months now, wary of crossing lines without invitation.

The weakness this cold was having on Cody’s balance and ability to reliably keep his knees locked hadn’t extended to his hands it seemed, for he had pulled them flush together and – while it was a very pleasant thing to be pressed against his very attractive Commander, now wasn’t the best time for it. Obi-Wan would have made like an eel except he was the only thing keeping either of them upright.

“I feel dreadfully manoeuvred, darling.” he tried to joke, and lost it to a wheeze when Cody dropped his face into Obi-Wan’s neck and clutched hard at him.

“The things I want to do to you, General.” he growled. At least half of the growling was congestion.

Obi-Wan patted his back consolingly.”As I said, my dear. Post-fever?”

Cody made a noise that, in a healthier man, would have taken him out at the knees. As it was, his knees were the only ones responsible for neither of them being on the floor, and his poor Commander followed it up with a nasty coughing fit.

“Right. Cody, if you don’t let me set you up on the couch at least, I am going to carry you through the halls to a bed and let your brothers’ gossip chain do what it will.” he said firmly.

“I will never forgive you, sir.” Cody choked out, breathing all rattles and lost bolts.

“I will accept your enmity if you are well enough to perform it.” Obi-Wan shot back. “Can you even stand unaided? Cody? Would you let a single one of our men get away with that?”

To his credit, Cody gave standing a valiant try. He unpeeled himself from Obi-Wan and planted himself like a reed with particularly flimsy roots, but the intention was admirable. If foolish. He wobbled dangerously.

Obi-Wan watched with steely eyes and lowered brows. “Now, let go of my tunic.”

Cody’s eyes were brilliant with frustration. His mouth curved downward. “I don’t think I should.”

“He can be taught!” Obi-Wan ran his hands along Cody’s arms and stepped back in to brace him. “Sitting down while I comm Helix, or am I parading you across the ship with as much style as I can muster?”

“I have quite literally dragged your ass out of your horrible little womp-rat nest when that dodgy-”

“Yes, yes, sometimes the biology gets knocked about unexpectedly but we still see the medic-”

“That is not-”

Obi-Wan took a moment to brace himself properly, then hauled Cody up into his arms. Cody yelped, then groaned. “High noises still bad.”

“Why, what a shock that a bug capable of overwhelming your robust immune system should be resistant to the vicious medicinal efforts of splemsip.” He shifted Cody’s weight slightly, then nodded. “If you pull the hood up, perhaps everyone will just think I am transporting a very lost fellow Jedi.”

“Sir-” Cody squeezed his eyes against the throb of his headache and slumped into him, arguments subsiding.

“Cody, if you want to have the conversation you implied earlier, I am going to insist on you using my name when we’re off-duty. And you, my dear, are so deeply off-duty.”

He nudged the keypad with a little bit of Force use, and slipped into the hall. His senses were on high-alert and he thanked the Force that their office wasn’t so far from his rooms. He only had to duck into a side-hall to avoid being seen the once, and he tucked Cody’s head against his gently while waiting for the coast to clear, worried over the thoroughly crackly breathing.

Jabbing at the door control to his rooms, he swept Cody in and got him situated on the bed. “Don’t move,” he said, pointing threateningly at him as he clicked his comm off his belt and sent off a message to Helix to request assistance for flu symptoms in his quarters. “I’m going to get water again, and this time you’re going to behave and drink it.”

“Behave is not-” he broke off to cough again, then resumed doggedly, “-not what I thought I’d be doing in your bed, Obi-Wan.”

“Post-fever, Cody, so you’re already not behaving.” He brought one of his stashed hydro-packs over. “I should have thought of these earlier really, the straw will be easier.”

Cody took it, nearly pouting as the fever got hold in earnest and his reticence slipped. “I’d rather suck something else.”

“Have you been storing these up?” Obi-Wan asked, perching on the edge of the bed and reaching to press the back of his hand to Cody’s forehead. “Oh, darling, that’s definitely Helix territory. Drink your water.”

Bright-eyed, and in the process of glazing over, Cody gave him an awfully endearing attempt at a sultry look as he stabbed his straw into the bag. “Don’ need to store anything. Look at you.”

Charmed, Obi-Wan ran his hand through Cody’s sweat-damp curls. He leaned his head into the touch as he drank, eyes sliding closed. “That’s it, sweetheart.”

His door chimed.

Slipping away for a moment, he returned with Helix grumbling behind him. “Of course it would be you, Cody.” he said, “Half the battalion gets sniffles from some lurgy incubating since our last campaign and Sir Never-Gets-Sick over here drops like a ton of duracrete.”

“Your morning has been busy then?” Obi-Wan said, “With any luck, that other half is immune or threw it off before it took, and not just taking longer about showing symptoms.”

“Sniffles.” Helix repeated. “Hardly even worth mentioning but for the volume. Couple of the Maintenance boys have a low-grade fever, gave ‘em some reducers, they’ll be right as rain. Our dear Commander, as I hear, is well past that.”

Cody, supine on the bed, made an irritated noise. It sounded a lot like a washing unit trying to chop wood. “’m not dead, unconscious, or missing from this room.”

“Give it time,” Helix said darkly, checking his temp. “What was the plan if the General hadn’t interceded, Cody? Crawl into a vent shaft for the MSE droids to find during the night cycle?”

“Thought I’d skip right to the airlock actually.” Cody returned snidely. Coughed. “Why’s there three Generals now, I didn’t think this was that sort of dream.”

Obi-Wan dragged a hand over his face. Helix barked a laugh as he sorted through his medications. “It is not that sort of dream, Cody. Should I step out, Helix?”

His CMO shrugged, preparing his shot. “Do you want the good General Kenobi and his twins to leave, Cody?” He leaned over the bed and poked at Cody’s arm.

“I want the floor to stop moving.” Cody said faintly. “When did the General get twins? I thought we had – ow, fuck, Helix!”

“Sensitised pain reception, that’s unfortunate.” Helix mumbled, mostly under his breath. “Avoid bumping against shit, vod.” He scooped up the half-drunk hydro-pack abandoned on Cody’s chest. “Sir, I need you to take these pills and finish this pack. That’s an order, copy?”

His eyelids were drooping again. “Copy, sir.”

The pill-swallowing was an experience best left to the imagination. Cody’s very unhappy throat made it into a production that took both Helix and Obi-Wan to hold him through – the pills themselves and the coughing fit that followed.

“They really are better ingested than anything I have right now that’s intravenous,” Helix said regretfully in the aftermath. “But he should be able to sleep now, and it should get him through the worst of it.”

“That’s fine,” Obi-Wan walked him back to the door. “I’ll work from in here for the day, and I can always sleep on my couch if necessary.”

Helix gave him a slightly sarcastic salute. “I’d say don’t get sick but that would only encourage you.”

He laughed, “I’m not quite that contrary, Helix.”

“Dubious, sir, I’m dubious. Comm me if he gets worse.” Helix said, and left.

Cody was starting to drift in earnest when Obi-Wan returned to the bedside, propped up on all the pillows he could find to ease his breathing. “Back?” he yawned, wincing.

“I’m back, yes. I’m going to sit at the couch and get some flimsi done, so just tap the wall if you need anything. I’ll hear it, don’t worry.” He traced Cody’s tired, familiar face with his eyes. Every line of him was precious. “I’ll come in to bother you about drinking enough, but otherwise I highly recommend trying to sleep.”

“No- wait,” Cody flailed a hand out. Obi-Wan caught it in his. “I don’t – Obi-Wan, I don’t want to have dreamed – before.”

He threaded their fingers together and squeezed comfortingly. “Which before? I’m happy to confirm what I can for you. For example, no twins.”

A smile curled slow and lazy across Cody’s face. He squeezed back with his too-hot hand. “The talk. We’re gonna talk, right?”

Obi-Wan found his own smile, quite irrepressibly, unfolding in turn. “Yes, darling.” he whispered, and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Cody’s hand. “We’re going to talk as soon as you’re not any level of delirious.”

Cody had gone wide-eyed. The fever-flush brightened across his cheeks. “Obi-Wan.” he said, longing.

“Not a dream,” Obi-Wan told him, turning his hand over to kiss his palm, to brush his lips over the sensitive pad of each finger. “I promise. You just have to get better first.”

“Suddenly I feel the urge to be a model patient,” his bedridden Commander managed, though what slipped through his shields right then was categorically not that. “You probably won’t recognise it.”

He snorted and returned Cody’s hand to his lap, patted it. “Get some sleep, Cody. I’ll be in periodically – we’ll see if I don’t give you an aversion to nurses for the rest of your life first.”

@codywanfirstkissbingo hi hello! Number Five! I used my free space as 'hand kiss' and that should be bingo twice over xD

[formulapookie]

🦂💜

Not your time killer bezsava, 2.8k words (same storyline as this and this

Silverstone was shit. For both of them, at stratospheric levels. Sava had crashed during Quali after somehow managing to get to Q2, Bez had secured P3 but later had problems during the sprint, forcing him to retire.

Then, during the race, out of fucking no where, Binder chose to just dive bomb him, causing him to fly on the gravel, his own bike flying just centimetres above his head, Binder’s hitting him as they crashed, causing a sharp pain in his right calf.

He laid on the gravel holding his calf while Binder just walked away, not even bothering to check on him. He was third goddamnit, he was doing well, he was there, behind Pecco and Franco, Marc having had problems with the bike the whole weekend holding onto a weak P8.

He could’ve gotten a podium, he could’ve cheered but no. It had to be shit.

He got to the medical centre and they checked him, they said it was a bad contusion, that he’d need to rest for a minimum of one week if he wanted to be fully ok for riding, but Aragon was just the weekend after, he couldn’t not train.

Right now he’s in a meeting room with Rivola and Sava, a guilty expression on his face and the pain still in his body.

“Marco, I think it’s best if you don’t race in Aragon” “What? No no no absolutely not, I will race I will manage to” “Marco we already have one rider who came back and only got more injured, do you want to end up like Jorge?” “I won’t, I promise I’ll be more careful I can’t not race please the doctor will say I’m fit” “Marco, listen, I know you want to race, and I want you to race as well, it’s points, many, because you’re doing really well, but you have to understand I also want you to be at your 100% to fight for those points”

Bez doesn’t know what to say, he wants to race, he wants to win and stop hurting like this, he wants to cry and stay in a hug. He thinks about someone, someone he shouldn’t be thinking about, not with Sava right there, not now that at least on a romantic level he’s happy.

“I will come to Aragon and see what the doctor tells me” “Fine, but be careful please, ok?” “Ok”

They wrap up the meeting and Bez immediately goes to his motorhome, limping, biting his cheek not to let half a tear fall from his eyes, because he can’t look that weak. He checks his phone, texts from all his friends, his parents, all asking him if he’s ok. Everyone, everyone but one person. He isn’t even worthy of a health checkup now?

He’s about to close the motorhome door when Sava sneaks in, closing the door behind him and going to sit on the couch.

“Marco you have to be careful this week if you really want to race” “Of course I want to race! Why wouldn’t I? I’m - I’m not just here to fuck with you you know? I’m here to race!” “Woah woah ok calm down when have I ever told you you were here just for sex?” “You - he - you think that you don’t say it but you think that I know just like him you think that”

Sava gets up from the couch, he’s worried now, he knows Bez’s mental health isn’t exactly at the top, he’s seen bottles of pills at his house, knows he has a psychologist, knows he’s had a really dark period last year.

But since he came here it was different, he was more relaxed, he noticed the increasingly smaller packages of medicines and prescriptions, he noticed how he was always less and less bruised from obviously self inflicted injuries.

“Marco sit down come on” “I am a rider I am not just your way to kill time” “No of course not Marco”

Bez is not looking at him, he’s got his eyes closed and his fists in his hair, Sava is scared he could pull them out, so he tries to gently open his fists and take Bez’s hands away from there.

“Marco, do you know who I am? Where are you right now?” “Your motorhome I’m in your motorhome and I don’t want to anymore I can’t anymore stop treating me like this stop” “Marco look at me please, breathe and look at me”

Bez had told him once, that he could sometimes confuse events, overlap them, travel back in time with his mind, causing him to relive some events who impacted badly on his mental health, and that he couldn’t control or predict them, that he confused people from right now with people from the past who had done something bad to him.

He looks up, his tears stopping, his sobs calming down. Bez lets go of his hair, and he looks around.

This is his own motorhome, there’s an Aprilia suit on the chair, there’s…there’s Sava here. There isn’t the other one, there’s just them, and he’s in the new season, he’s not back then, he’s got a boyfriend, he is happy, it’s not like that anymore.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I didn’t mean that I’m sorry” “No no Marco you don’t have to be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong, I’m here ok?”

Bez buries his face in Sava’s chest, crying again, looking for comfort, finding it in the hug Sava gives him.

He has to explain, he knows that, he can’t just go on like this, he can’t let that piece of shit dictate his life, he has to come clean, to make Sava understand he doesn’t think he’s actually the same as him.

“Can we talk a little? I really can’t do anything else right now” “Of course Marco I would’ve never asked you to do something else you’re hurt” “It’s gonna be long and shitty” “It’s ok, it’s fine, I want to know what’s bothering you. You told me I was like him, who’s he?” “I didn’t mean that I was just confused I was not thinking straight”

Sava takes a deep breath. Well, at least his boyfriend doesn’t actually think he just sees him as a sex thing. That’s something already, considering the state he was in just minutes ago.

“I had a thing with a guy. A rider. We would hook up and never stay, I was in love with him. Like big time, like I thought about living together kinda shit”

Bez takes another breath, then continues.

“He was mean. Not during sex, not too much, but after. Or before. Or in any situation when we weren’t fucking. He said he wasn’t gay, that he only liked women, that I was just his way to release stress. And I was ok with that at first, I thought that with time things would change, but they didn’t. He got married, he had a kid and he kept having sex with me, he kept using me and using me and using me. I never said no. I knew about his family, I know his wife goddamn it, I was at his daughter’s baptism, I was always there and he never ever thought about me”

Sava knows who that man is. It doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure it out. A rider, someone he saw on the regular, who was married and had a daughter, someone who trusted him enough to have him at his daughter’s baptism. Luca Marini.

“He always told me it was good sex, that I was good at it, but never anything else. He looked for me at the end of every day, in my motorhome, or his, mostly his, we were there the majority of the time. He- he would text me, just text ‘in 5 minutes’ or 10 or one hour, I had to be in his motorhome by then. I liked the sex, but I couldn’t stick to just that, I was so worried when I spoke to you about having feelings because I thought you’d just trash me” “That’s disgusting, I mean he should’ve thought better than to deceive you into thinking there was a chance, and he is married as well I mean, I thought Marini was a good person but-”

Bez turns to look at him, eyes like those of a deer caught in headlights.

“How do you know it’s him?” “It’s not hard to figure out, I would've thought Pecco but he hasn’t gotten kids, Vale doesn’t race anymore, all the other academy guys aren’t married or have kids so” “You can’t tell, ok? I - I don’t want him to be shoved under a mediatic wave of hate” “Ok. I get it, but just know you can talk shit about him with me whenever you want”

Bez nods, he’s picking at his nails, the skin around his thumb nail half eaten away, his cheek is bleeding and his lower lip as well.

“In Thailand, this year, I went to your room because I was angry. We fought, like a lot, I blew him and then I asked to have a serious talk about feelings, because I couldn’t anymore, I was so tired of pretending, I was disgusted by myself every time I saw him with his wife, when he held his daughter I felt like I deserved to die because I was ruining a family, she could’ve caught us, more than once, she almost did, and I couldn’t live like that anymore.”

The air in the room is charged, tense, Luca is buttoning up his jeans while Bez is trying to hold his tears back. His knees hurt from the contact with the cold hotel floor tiles, his jaw hurts as well, all thought for a much different motivation.

He knows he has to talk to Luca, he knows he can’t keep pretending everything is ok the way it is because one day he’s going to cry when he sees Marta and him kissing in front of guests, he’s going to cry when Angelina will call him “zio”.

He loves Luca, he loves him a lot, he loves him so much he’s ok with being the sidepiece, but enough is enough. He wants clarity, he wants to know if this is going somewhere or if it’s doomed to remain confined to hotel rooms and dark alleys, suffocated by hushed moans and hidden blowjobs.

He wants to know what the fuck he’s doing with his life.

“Lu?”“Mh”“Listen we need to talk”“We actually don’t”“No we do. Because I’m going crazy here and I need to know”“I’m not a fag, get it into your mind, stop daydreaming”“You can’t seriously still think you’re straight Luca, we’ve been hooking up for two years!”“Close your fucking mouth Marco, if someone hears this I swear you’re going to regret it”“What? You’re scared people will know you like men?”“I don’t like men, I like having sex, and you do too, so I have sex with you when I can because I have to release stress”Bez scoffs, tears on the verge of spilling from his eyes, the mean and sharp edge to Luca’s tone is hurtful and just really fucking unnecessary.

“You are a piece of shit Luca, a huge one, you got a wife and a daughter and yet you always text me to come to you to get head or fuck, you’re disgusting”“Yeah? And what are you then? You voluntarily have sex with me, you bend over whenever I tell you to, you spread your legs as soon as I open my mouth, you’re pathetic, and really fucking sad cause come on you really think I alone am to blame?”That hurts, Bez knows he’s in the wrong for sleeping with Luca, hell he hates seeing Marta, not because he hates her but because he knows what Luca does when she’s not around, and he hates knowing he’s hurting her.

“You are just a sad little whore who accepts whatever I give you, you don’t care as long as you get fucked, you are here just for that, you are racing and coming to the Ranch just to get fucked, because that’s all you do good, you only know how to spread your legs and get it, I’m pretty sure you now only race because this way you can have sex with me, you’re ridiculous, and you yell in my face how I’m disgusting? Take a look at yourself and think of how many dicks you’ve taken up your ass this month alone, then have the courage to tell me I’m disgusting, I dare you”

Bez can’t reply, he’s just looking at Luca with pain in his eyes, he knew Luca didn’t love him but this just sounds like he hates him.He knows he goes around, he’s aware of the fact he hasn’t had a stable relationship in a few years, but that’s just because he’s been in love with Luca and wanted him to know.

He wants to cry, he wants to yell and smash something, he wants to beat Luca up and he wants this to end.But he doesn’t, he doesn’t because he knows it’ll only be worse.

“Ok, then this is over, I’ll never come to your motorhome again, don’t worry, so you don’t even have to bother with kicking me out like a hooker after we’re done. I hope Marta will catch you cheating on her and leave you with nothing, I hope your daughter will grow up to know you’re a fucking coward”“Don’t you dare bring my wife and Angelina into this conversation because I swear I’m going to punch you”“Fuck you”

Bez leaves, no remorse, just pain, and hate, and anger.

He ends up in front of Sava’s hotel room, he knows that’s his cause when they got their keys he heard the room number.Sava is good looking, and clearly interested in men, if the looks he casts him in the changing rooms are anything to go by, or the fact he once heard a grindr notification coming from his phone.

He could use a mind liberatory fuck, a lot. So why shouldn’t he knock?

Sava stares at him as Bez finishes reenacting what had happened, he really just wants to hug him right now, hug him and never let him go, because what happened to him is just disgusting.

He would go and beat the shit out of Luca, it wouldn’t be difficult, the guy’s shaped like a fucking stick, he could quite literally break him in half, but he knows Bez wouldn’t want him to get involved that way with Luca, not at the risk of both of them being outed by the blonde.

“Marco” “I’m sorry I used you the first time I had to get out of my brain for a while sorry I really hated me in that moment” “Marco I’m ok, I didn’t feel used, and we had a great time, and we got together after what? two hookups? I’m fine, I am not upset by it, I am angry as fuck with Marini and would gladly punch him until he says he’s sorry, but I won’t, I know you wouldn’t want me to” “He didn’t even ask me how I was after my crash today” “That’s because he’s a piece of shit Marco, he never deserved you, and you deserve better, much better, and I hope I can be that for you”

Bez starts crying again, hugging Sava tight, curling up to be completely wrapped by him. He feels like those giant bear plushies you get at the town fairs, the ones guys get their girlfriends as a gift. He is a calming agent, Bez can feel his mind quieting down, turning from an enraged ocean to a calm sea.

“You are more than that” “I hope so amore” “Can we cuddle? On the bed?” “Of course, lets go”

Sava picks him up and walks to the bed, Bez giggling as he gets taken there, Sava kissing him on the lips a few times, then slipping under the cover, curling up beside his boyfriend, who starts caressing his cheeks and playing with his curls.

“I’ll be here whatever you need ok? Sleep now you need as much rest as you can get, and then we’ll see about Aragon” “But -” “I know, but you have to rest first, come on”

They fall asleep like that, Bez thinking how he finally feels good, at ease, safe even. Far from who hurt him and will probably never accept himself. He pities Luca, truly, because it must be horrible not to accept yourself, but it’s no excuse for how he treated him, so he won’t check on him, not even if he decides to truly look at himself and have the courage to speak up, not even then, because he got burned once already, and he’s not going to risk ever again.

[goayda]

Perseverance

(Stizzy very short fic, fluff as usual)

Stede is lying on Izzy’s chest while they both are still trying to catch their breaths and he is already worrying about the moment the first mate is going to tense under him and start moving to get up from his bed.

It’s always like that, Izzy always leaves shortly after they have finished, while the sweat is still drying on their skin. Stede had tried different tactics to stop him from leaving, but nothing has worked so far. Soft words and pet names have simply made the man bristle and leave faster and pretending to fall asleep on top of Izzy has only earned him a poke in the ribs or a shove to the side.

Izzy doesn’t cuddle, doesn’t stay the night. They barely kiss at all and when they do it’s rough and bruising and Stede is not complaining, not really, because he enjoys it, but something is telling him that the first mate longs for more. It’s the way Izzy’s breath catches when Stede calls him darling (before grunting and glaring at him for that), it’s the way his eyes turn soft and vulnerable for a second when Stede gets inside of him (before turning his face away, trying to hide it).

Deep down Stede knows Izzy craves a soft touch and sweet words, but for some reason he doesn’t let himself have them. But Stede is nothing if not persistent. Be alert and wait for an opening, Izzy is always repeating during their sword training, and those words keep echoing in Stede’s head all the time. Wait for an opening and when you see it, don’t hesitate.

So when after a few minutes, after their heartbeats have barely slowed down, Stede feels Izzy’s body relax slightly underneath his, he doesn’t waver. He turns his head slowly to lay a kiss on Izzy’s collarbone, holds his breath and waits. The first mate lets out a soft gasp, but doesn’t move otherwise and Stede sees his opening right there and goes for it.

Stede moves up slowly, leaving a trail of kisses all over Izzy’s skin. Another kiss on the collarbone, a soft brush of lips on the side of the neck, a few more kisses following the path to his jaw. Then, without missing a beat, he pushes himself up on an elbow and keeps going, relentlessly leaving kisses on Izzy’s jaw, on his cheek, on the star tattoo and then, finally, he presses their lips together.

And Izzy… Izzy melts underneath him. When Stede brushes his tongue against his lower lip, he moans softly, lips parting immediately and Stede deepens the kiss, licking into his mouth greedily. Izzy whines into his mouth, low and needy, and his arms wrap around Stede, holding him tightly as he finally kisses him back.

They kiss, deep and slow, again and again and Izzy doesn’t leave Stede’s bed until the rising sun wakes them up the next morning.

[hellfire--cult]

I finished my Steve one shot. That one shot that has been collecting dust in my wips for months.

One that should only have been... 4k words at most.

I'll post it tomorrow.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

“That’s eight ways now, because when we leave here, I’m going to fuck the word friend out of your vocabulary.”

The Book of Azrael, Amber V. Nicole

[the-gray-ghosty]

Don't think about Sam teaching Jack to tie his shoes, don't think about Sam making Jack lunch and showing him different types of food, don't think about Sam tucking Jack into bed at night and comforting him after nightmares, Don't think about Sam becoming the parent he wished he had as a child

[osamusriceballs]

The Accident - Part XV

Atsumu x fem reader

Warnings: Alcohol

Words: ~ 1,8 k

About: Y/n and that mysterious woman finally meet!

Part I II -> Next Part

"You?"

She looks at you, clearly stunned to see you- and you feel the same way about her for sure. You actually mentally already saw yourself in your bed after this exhausting trip- and yet here you are. Facing her in the middle of the night once again. Her gaze flickers from you to Atsumu, quickly taking in his state.

You can imagine how you look like.

Your hair looks a bit messy, and you probably look like you fell straight out of your bed. And Atsumu next to you is a mess. Without a doubt. His shirt is half-opened, his broad chest almost fully on display, and you have been doing your best not to stare at his body while you're supporting his weight. His head is hanging low with his cheeks tinted pink and his eyes glassy, and the noises that occasionally escape his lips are a mixture of nonsense blabbering and snores. You definitely look like a strange combination - one might even get the idea that you got him drunk.

The woman is frozen for a few moments, simply taking in the sight of you and him, too stunned to say something. You can't blame her for that reaction, you would have been stunned too to see such a strange couple. You start to sweat slowly, Atsumu's weight considerably resting on you, now that you both have stopped moving. You have no idea what you should do, though. Just who the heck is she? And what is she doing at his apartment again?

After a few moments pass, she finally seems to make up her mind. She moves, coming closer without any warning until she's right in front of you - only to pass by briskly without giving you any attention. Now you're stunned, not missing the look of disgust and hatred on her face or the way her eyelid seems to twitch in rage when she walks past you, and you stand there with Atsumu next to you, who hasn't even looked up ever since you both came to stop.

You turn your head, watching her back as she strides towards the elevator and then presses a button, impatiently waiting for the doors to open.

You know that you only have this chance to talk to her, only these few moments- and you suddenly feel brave enough to do something.

"You know that I'm married to him, don't you?" You finally say. Judging by her reaction, this bold statement definitely took her by surprise. She turns her head and looks at you with a blank expression, but you can see how her nails dig into her palm. She doesn't reply; she simply stands there without breaking your gaze. You slightly lift your chin and hope that you exude confidence while you stand there with a snoring Atsumu leaning against you.

"If I ever catch you here again, I'll call the police. They will surely be happy to escort you out of my husband's apartment." She narrows her eyes at your words and turns her head when the elevator doors open, getting inside without even bothering to say something or acknowledging you.

You exhale deeply, feeling like you've just run a marathon. You still don't fully understand what's going on, but you at least feel somewhat better, now that you could get your anger off your chest. You don't know her, but you somehow find yourself disliking her. But you should maybe direct those feelings towards Atsumu, depending on what he'll tell you as soon as he sobers up. Even though you're not sure if you can trust him yet. You mentally curse when you realize that you still know nothing about this woman, other than that she apparently likes to hang out in front of his apartment. Why couldn't Osamu just tell you everything? You could maybe try to call him, but he seemed exhausted back there at Onigiri Miya's. He's probably asleep already and you feel somewhat sorry for him.

A groan next to you makes you look at Atsumu, who uncomfortably hangs around your body, and you're quick to push him towards his apartment. "We're almost there, please, just a bit more, Atsumu." You beg, and you don't know if he's able to hear you, or even understand you, but he is somehow actually trying to help you, and you finally make it into his apartment. It's probably the adrenaline in your body that makes you heave him onto his bed, and you simply fall on your knees when you finally manage to get his weight off you.

A groan escapes your lips, and you sit there with closed eyes for a few seconds.

That woman.

She's trouble. That much you're certain of when you think about her reactions. You're convinced that she has no positive connection to him. She might be his ex. A pang of jealousy rushes through you when you think about the beautiful brunette right next to Atsumu. The media would love them together.

And yet, here you are. Still married to him for another eleven months. Even carrying his last name, even though you don't even know what he's done with her after he kissed you in that one night. He maybe even slept with her back then. So much about Yachi's hypothesis of the volleyball team being too busy to date.

But that is something that Atsumu needs to tell you. You know that you will only be able to forget about him if he personally tells you that he's not interested. Then you might finally manage to erase him out of your life and move on. Maybe even start dating someone. Yachi had often asked if you feel up for blind dates. She told you that she knows a police officer, who's cute and single and who would absolutely be your type. You had laughed back then, but maybe it would help you get your thoughts away from the blonde volleyball player in front of you.

You get on your feet, looking at Atsumu and contemplate what you should do with him. You slowly look up and down his body, his face looking so soft while he's snoring, his hair hanging around his face, messy for sure, but it probably feels soft to the touch. His chest is still bare, his shirt almost fully opened, but you don't think it'll be too uncomfortable for him to sleep in it. Your gaze lingers on his belt. That will definitely be uncomfortable though.

You internally fight with yourself, a part of you feeling like a pervert when you reach out to the belt and try to quickly undo the clasp. It takes you a few attempts to open it, but you quickly pull it off him as smoothly as you can. You're just glad that he did not wake up during that procedure. You also open the button of his jeans but don't touch the zipper at all. His shoes are quick to land on the ground too, and then you take the blanket and throw it over him, securing it over his body and then making an attempt to go back. You freeze though when he starts moving, a groan escaping his lips along with something that sounds like your name. His eyes open, and you both stare at each other, though you're not entirely sure that he can see you - yet you're still flustered at his gaze.

You're both in his bed after all.

"Y/N - stay here." He mumbles, clumsily reaching out for you. You freeze when he manages to catch your sleeve and you place your hand over his quickly to pull it away.

"I - I don't think it's a good idea for me to stay here." You answer, your voice coming out softer than you intended it to. He hurt you, yet you still missed him. Missed how he makes you feel, missed his goofy side and the way he makes your heart skip a beat when he gives you that sweet smile. You missed everything about him.

"Y/n - missed ya... s'much." He whines into the pillow, his hand curling into yours, and you feel the wall inside of you crumbling. It's... kind of late after all. It's probably for the best if you don't walk home on your own. But sleeping in the same bed? After everything that has happened? But then: what if he needs you during the night? What if he throws up or something and you're too far away to help him?

You sit there for a few moments and then finally nod while you watch him. "Fine. I'll stay with you. Is it okay if I borrow one of your shirts?"

You don't really expect an answer of him, but he nods and mumbles something and raises his arm to show you a direction, and you simply open the wardrobe that he's pointing to without trying to look too much at the clothes and grab the first thing that comes into your hand. It's a simple black shirt that will probably fit comfortably on you. You look at Atsumu, who is now mumbling nonsense, and turn your back to him while you change into the shirt. You decide to leave on your sweatpants; it would feel weird to sleep next to him half-naked. You hesitate before you go into the bed, thinking about getting some water for him, but then you're quick to spot a bottle on the nightstand and then shrug your shoulders. That will be enough.

You're tired.

The adrenaline is slowly wearing off, and you're in no state to go home right now, that's for sure. You yawn and simply let yourself fall into his luxurious bed, and take a mental note to have a closer look at his bedroom in the morning when you wake up. You yawn quite loudly once again before you reach for the light switch and turn the lights off. It's comfortably dark now, and you reach for the other blanket and wrap it around you. You try to quietly shift into a more comfortable position, in order to not disturb Atsumu, but then you feel him shifting again and moving closer until your bodies are touching under your blanket. He smells like a mixture of beer and a smell that you only associate with him. Something manly and comforting; it's hard to tell.

After a few more moments, you hear him breathe deeply and evenly, a pleasant noise while he wraps his arms around you, pressing his hot body against yours. His chest is heaving against your back with every breath he takes, and you feel a tingle run down your spine when he nestles his face in your neck. You don't have it in you to fight this, and you definitely like how safe you feel in his arms. So you simply adjust your legs until you lay there comfortably and listen to the sound of him breathing.

And while Atsumu holds you maybe a bit too tightly in his arms, you feel warm for the first time in a few weeks and finally succumb to sleep.

[chichichi-blue-blog]

So, I have a new ship obsession now. I know I'm here after the war, but I just started the Tangled series and just fell in love with cassunzel. Oh my god, they're so cute, so hot, so real, so perfect.

The perfect tragic sapphic love story.

By the way, I read two wonderful fics about them, and it's not finished and one of them it's pretty dark and sad, but it doesn't matter, I still think it's pretty, pretty good.

Darkest Destiny: A Tangled Story by Fanfic_Acolyte_Vanessa ( really an adult story, but omg, i love how they make a disney show so dark like that, really inspiring!)

Untangled by MerinaThropp ( it's the movie rewritten, and it's better than the movie itself trust me on this! It's cute, Raps is absolutely adorable and Cass is the girlfriend everyone wants)

[nahoney22]

To those who sent me Captain Rex requests. Thank you. I never knew I had a void that had to be filled by this man

[sunshinebingo]

This has been my attempt at beating writer’s block after following a few advices. Thank you so much @littlefishbigsea and @secret-third-thing for the help 🙏. And thank you @lulling-night-sky for listening to my whining 😅

Summary: When his mate barged into his office claiming to be sick, Lucien had to find out what she had and how to take care of her.

Word Count: 2k

Warning: NSFW

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

Lucien’s eyes burned from reading these damn papers for so long. He had been working for hours. But he could not stop until after he had gone through all of them or they would add up to the work he would have the next day. Assuming that it was probably close to dinner time, Lucien set to work again, hoping to finish it all before he could join his mate.

The thought of spending time with Elain after made him even more determined to complete the task at hand. Since he had been busy the whole day and afternoon, Lucien intended to devote all his time and attention to her alone. But he had to be done with his work first. He grabbed a scattered piece of leather near his stack of papers and tied his loose hair up in a bun. For now, he needed to put all distracting thoughts aside.

The door to his office burst open before he could focus back on the paper before him. “I need a healer,” Elain loudly exclaimed.

“What!?” Lucien pulled his chair back in a panicked state. Was she sick? What was –

“Help!” She interrupted his thoughts as she quickly approached his desk. The back of her hand was pressed to her forehead and she wore a strange expression on her face. Elain reached him before he could stand and oh so gently dropped herself on his lap with a breathless, “Help! I’m fainting.”

One of her hands reached around his neck and the other came to rest on his chest. Lucien raised his eyebrows at the realisation of the act. Then, all his blood started rushing down to his cock when he really looked at her from head to toe.

His sweet mate was wearing a thin lavender nightgown with only her long loose hair to conceal her breast beneath the sheer fabric. Was it already time for bed? Lucien feared that he had again lost track of time. A glimpse at the partially covered window behind him confirmed that the sun was just starting to set. Then why –

“I need help,” Elain pleaded again.

“How can I help you my dear lady in distress?” Lucien asked, bringing a hand to inspect her beautiful face. His other hand wrapped around her waist to support her better.

“I feel…” Her wide doe eyes bore into his like her life truly depended on him. “I feel very hot.”

Lucien pursed his lips to stop a smirk. “Can you tell me more about your symptoms?” he asked as seriously as he could. Elain nodded and pulled his hand away from her face. She dragged his hand slowly down her body, starting from her neck, to the valley of her breast, going down and down until she stopped right between her legs.

“I’m feeling very hot down here,” she said innocently, still looking into his eyes. Lucien kept staring at her as he dragged his hand lower until he reached the hem of her nightgown at her thigh. He slipped his hand under the fabric and went straight to where his lady needed him most.

Lucien took a deep breath in at the first contact of his fingers against her centre. When he felt how wet she was, he decided that his work would kindly have to fuck off for the day because he had much more urgent matters to tend to.

Lucien inserted two fingers inside her and watched as Elain shifted on his lap with a whimper. He slowly slid his fingers in and out of her a few times before he removed his hand completely.

“I see now,” he said, ignoring the disappointed look on Elain’s face. For now. “I know exactly what you have.”

Lucien lowered his face to her ear. “You are horny. And you need to be fucked.” He bit the tip of her pointed ear slightly, then whispered, “Hard.”

Elain’s face flushed and she pulled on his shirt to make him face her again. “Where do you think I can find someone to fuck me?” She asked, using that voice that was filled with sweet honey.

This time, Lucien did not hide his wicked grin. Elain let out a yelp when he suddenly stood up while still holding her. He quickly swiped away all the papers from his desk before placing her down before it. He would deal with the mess later.

Lucien grabbed her by the waist and pressed himself against her, caging the top of her body between his arms and making her feel how hard he was for her. “No one else but me can fuck you, my lady.”

A second later, Lucien’s pants were down, Elain’s nightgown was gathered at her waist and his cock was sliding inside her wet centre. It started very slow. She let out a moan as his cock went deeper until he was fully in. He remained like that for a moment and just savoured the feeling of being inside her. It still amazed him, even after being this intimate with her for over a year, how easily and quickly Elain could make him this hard and make him empty his thoughts of everything else but her.

Lucien gathered all of her hair over her shoulder, leaving the other and her neck exposed so that he could trace his lips and tongue there. One of his hands went up her front until he could grab her breast through her nightgown and torture her even more. Elain reached behind her and tangle a hand in his hair. Lucien sucked hard right between her neck and shoulder when she pulled on his hair. The little vixen was getting impatient. And he had gotten painfully hard at this point. Lucien grabbed both of her hands and pinned them on his desk.

Then, as promised, Lucien started to fuck her. Hard. He showed her no mercy as he started pounding into her, going as deep as their position allowed him to. His office was soon filled by her loud moans and his groans mixed the sound of their bodies slapping against each other. The paper-thin fabric she was wearing was probably doing nothing to stop her from being marked where her skin was pressed against the wooden desk. But it would just give him another excuse to take care of her later. That did not seem to be bothering her anyway if Lucien had to judge by the lewd sounds she was making.

When he felt that she was close, Lucien fucked her faster. He leaned down on her and started kissing and sucking wherever he could reach her skin on her neck and shoulders. The strap of nightgown fell off one of her shoulders and down her arm. Elain held onto his hands tightly as her orgasm hit her.

Lucien kept moving until Elain’s body collapsed and she pressed her forehead to the desk. With the delightful view that she now offered him, Lucien released her hands to grab her ass instead. He gave her a few moments to catch her breath before he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back. Her cheeks and nose were flushed, her eyes closed and her lips parted as she breathed through her mouth.

His other hand trailed from her ass to her front. Lucien started rubbing slow circles on her clit. His cock twitched inside her when he went lower and touched her where their bodies were still joined.

‘’Are you feeling better, love?’’ he purred in her ear.

Lucien slowly slid his cock out and went back in. He gathered the wetness at her entrance and brought his hand back to her clit. He teased her there as slowly and he moved his cock in and out of her. He smirked when a delicious whimper left her.

When he started to move back again, Elain chased him by pushing her ass against him. She turned her head to the side. Lucien could not resist the temptation of her lips when she brought her mouth close to his. He kissed her, tasting her tongue and lips as she started moaning again from what his hand and his cock were still doing to her.

‘’More,’’ she said when she pulled her face away.

Lucien pulled back until his cock was almost completely out. He gave her a final peck on the cheek and thrusted back inside her so hard that the desk creaked beneath them. And he started fucking her again. He stood up behind her and felt himself going even deeper than before.

She was so warm and wet around his cock that everything ceased to make any sense. Lucien got closer to the edge the more he listened to her cries of pleasure. He cursed when she tightened again around him. He pressed his hand harder on her clit, the other holding tight to her waist. A few more thrust and Lucien lost all control of his body. He came inside her with a loud groan. Elain followed as soon as he spilled himself in her. Her body tensed and her legs slightly trembled. She threw her head back and came on a silent gasp.

Elain’s dropped her head onto the desk again with a sigh. Lucien stayed as close to her as he could and rested his forearms at her sides. ‘’So,’’ he asked with his head on her shoulder, ‘’Better?’’ He was unable to gather more words than that. Elain did not respond but the giggle she let out was answer enough for him. This female would cause his death someday and he would still be grateful for it.

Lucien straightened up when Elain’s body started sliding down from under him due her weakened legs. Both of their clothes were sticking to their bodies from the sweat. Their hair were in no better state. He removed the leather that had almost completely loosened and let his own hair fall down his back.

He lifted Elain up to make her sit on his desk. She immediately wrapped her arms around him, pulled him close and rested her head on his chest. Lucien kissed the top of her head and held her close to him. It was not the first time that they were cuddling in his office half naked. Knowing his mate, it would definitely not be the last time that his work would be interrupted like this. Not that Lucien would ever complain.

A distant ding brought their attention to the door. ‘’Oh,’’ Elain exclaimed excitedly, pulling back from his embrace, ‘’Dinner is ready.’’

She hopped down and adjusted her nightgown and her hair like she was about to walk into a room full of people when they were the only ones in their home. Lucien took the opportunity to pull his pants back on. Elain took him by the hand when they were both presentable enough for the furniture and plants of the empty house.

‘’Come on,’’ she started walking towards the door. ‘’Let’s have a nice meal together. Then maybe I’ll get sick again by dessert.’’

Lucien snorted behind her. ‘’Will you be wearing this the whole time?’’ he gestured with his free hand at the nightgown that could barely be considered as clothing.

Elain turned to him while she kept walking down the hall. ‘’I can take it off if you don’t like it.’’ Lucien knew exactly what she meant from her saccharine voice and the mischief in her eyes. Damn him if that did not start to make him hard again.

‘’Maybe I will be the one getting sick next time from the torture you put me through.’’

Elain stopped. Her eyes travelled to his pants, a smile gracing her lips when she looked up at his face again. She stood on her tip-toes to kiss him on the cheek. ‘’Don’t worry,’’ she said, surprisingly energetic again, ‘’I will take good care of you.’’ Then she turned and pulled on his hand again as she continued walking.