#but maul takes the prize on this one

[threebea]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Darth Maul Characters: Darth Maul, Obi-Wan Kenobi Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, Priest Obi-Wan Kenobi, POV Darth Maul, Darth Maul Being an Asshole, Soft Darth Maul, One Shot, Darth Maul is Obsessed with Obi-Wan Kenobi, Bittersweet, Angst, Stitches, Darth Maul has a Cane, Except he Lost it Before the Story Starts, Alternate Universe - No Powers Summary:

Maul beaten and wounded knocks on a door he knows will always open. Ben Kenobi tends his wounds. Nothing changes between them.

[anantaru]

A SILKY AURA WITH LAVENDER DREAMS ୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♡ !

⋆⑅˚₊ how they‘re pleasing you on valentines day ♡ ‧₊˚✧ — including scaramouche, alhaitham, heizou, yelan x fem! reader !! warnings — ‧₊˚✧ [ex]plicit, very passionate, kissing, a little rough, worshipping you ♡ ˚ ⋅ event mlist.

⋆⑅˚₊ — SCARAMOUCHE

scaramouche quizzes your every reaction, repeating the coarse laps of his warm tongue before he's certain it has an effect on you— how you're holding your breath in, how your toes are twisting on each fresh flutter and how about the way you were longingly ramming your pretty cunt into his mouth?

but you deserve it, he says, because this day was all about you.

unquestionably you had told scaramouche that valentines day was about your relationship— as in you and him, but he did not see it as such, decidedly did he say over and over, that it's about you and he needed, no, he had to spoil you even more than any other day before.

and now there he was, for hours, blazingly pleasuring your warm core and having you take it all, he has done this many many times before but tonight was unmistakable different.

scaramouche was gluttonous— his tongue was hungering for yet another hypnotic taste of your oozy arousal.

"i'm— so so close." you whine at him, your hands finding mercy in his littered hair as he breathlessly laughed into your sopping wet cunt, amusingly kissing your clit and leaning to the side to rest his head on your thighs, looking at you closely now.

"try not to stutter." he prompts you with a smirk, his eyes burrowed into something in imitation to greed, it came to be carnal on your skin and more notably when he kissed your clit again, again and again, "all mine, right?" scaramouche slurred lowly and prized how your thighs were trembling underneath the contour of his frame.

"yes— all yours." scaramouche carried on to actively guzzle on your blazing clit while you spoke, well, tried.

he carefully sealed his lips around the burning flesh and delicately tugging on it whenever he let go of the skin with a wet pop, curving your voice even more hopeless and tremulous for him which was the reason why he did it in the first place, kuni just had to hear you.

⋆⑅˚₊ — ALHAITHAM

at the close of alhaitham's first valentines day together with you, in less then no time you were wrapped up within the confines of your easeful bed— a recurrent verse of nastily making out with each other, kicking off your shoes and unhesitatingly jerking off each others clothes, one by one, until being left bare.

everything about alhaitham was just big— too big, whether or not it were his large hands tangibly mauling your pulpy breasts, his big, broad chest without a single care in the world soaring over your sweet frame or his vast length twitching on top of your glinting folds, feeling heavy.

"you will tell me if it hurts." he gently prods his tip at your entrance and watches how your hole barely slits at the cause, "yeah.." you mewl at him— but sappily, your body urgently retorting as your legs reflexively parted at the hurting push.

it stung a little, but that's okay, alhaitham repeatedly waited for you to get contented enough. He found it adorable when your tightly pressed together brows would slowly draw themselves back into a much more relaxed manner the moment you had grown accustomed to his length or when your, in his eyes, so so cutely pursed lips would part at the heavy penetration because then you're moaning out his name in a sickly sweet charm and it's driving him absolutely insane.

but you too, were instantly overwhelmed with his hard erection drumming within the walls of your sensitivity— the bigger vein of his length you adored to kiss whenever you went down on him was battering your racing splotches and gave you significant trouble to breathe in a casual way.

"please— please move." it's okay now, alhaitham realizes and places one of your legs over his shoulder, still proceeding with caution but encasing your hips with one hand to drag you back and forth steadily, "this feels good." his hand runs over your stomach and strokes the flesh, "this feels very very pleasant."

you were quick to shush him the moment you dragged him to your needful lips, evidently you were flustered by what he had voiced to you, always, how he's saying what he thinks and couldn't keep himself silent, he just had to tell you—sometimes being too blunt about it too, but in doing so alhaitham had become the sweetest.

⋆⑅˚₊ — HEIZOU

on valentines day, heizou and you leisurely enjoyed an undisturbed and mellow warm bath together— with the water having an assemblage of red rose petals idly floating on the surface.

you freely fit him in between your thighs, your breasts being firmly mashed against his chest as heizou's hand ploddingly framed your body from underneath, he could get lost on how soft you felt.

in spite of the current appearance at hand, heizou did not aim to keep this going in the bathtub, but he simply could not resist you for the life of him. As it happened he had originally planned to fuck you later on while being comfortably tugged in bed but beyond question, this was far preferable.

"does that feel good?" he asks yet recognizably knows the answer, he effortlessly deciphered it by how strong your pretty cunt was searching for friction on him, the water too had turned the situation in your favor by how soaked and doused you both appeared.

you listlessly swathed your arms around his damp neck to pull him towards you, "yes, very." to give him a hint, you airily kept your hips in a different position so his flushed tip would nudge against your entrance with it almost slipping in on itself by how easy the water was making it for you.

heizou's arms encase your waist to help you out as you slowly rolled yourself into his tip, he was aware on what you wanted, how could he not?

meekly taking inch by inch, you mewled out his name and hid in his neck, tenderly coasting your hand into his soaked hair strands.

"i love love love you." you mewl and archons, the reactions you voiced were too adorable for him, "i love love love you too." with an airy laugh from heizou, you felt his erect member recurrently rush in and out of your pussy, the dripping noises of skin on skin were only heightened by the wetness surrounding you.

⋆⑅˚₊ — YELAN

yelan herself wasn't a giant fan of going out in public on valentines day, not when the busy streets of liyue had been outrageously crowded with couples throughout the city.

alternatively, she found herself on top of your gentle body— archons, how fucking much she loved you, all of you, so dearly she just must spoil you for eternity.

one of your legs was lounging on her shoulder as she invariably bumped her tickling cunt over your glistering folds— burying deep shock waves of unmixed intoxication into your sweat covered skin.

but with all that, yelan wasn't fast with her flavorful torture on you— instead it was quite the opposite, because she must have you witness it all, each and every emotion of bliss had to be imposed on you.

"look at me." she sternly commands before taking your chin in between her thumb and index finger, "i always— ah, do!" you mewl when she amusingly wiggled her folds over your wetness, under the silhouette of your moans, you began to take one of her breasts in your warm palm to catch her off guard.

her nipples were erect and so pretty, she was pretty, your sweet darling— better yet, she had been neglecting of you lately and had promised to inflict pleasure on you beyond any compare in this world.

henceforward, yelan serenely parted her lips before leaving a big bulb of spit fall on your thudding pussy, you arched your back into her and whined when she launched to sloppily slather it all over your core with her soiled folds, precisely nudging your writhing clit ever so often.

everything felt so filthy and you realize just how dearly you wanted to cum on her, but then pay her back for this, make her, for once, sense pleasure from you spoiling her— and you will, later, when you're passionately mauling your head in between her thighs until she violently releases all over your lips.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[quinnred]

Tilshek: God of the Ugly Rage, WindRammer, He-Who-Drums-The-Summit.

Tilshek is the embodiment of warm storms, tantrum, frenzy, spasm, drunken fury, and unjust punishment. He is represented by the Urchin and Cactus in the South and by the Porcupine and Thistle in the North. Berserking warriors may don quills to evoke Tilshek in their rages, while others may wear a flower of a thistle or cactus to evoke his merciful servant, Mahtaa.

Tilshek was born from the abuse of two Feather Gods within the halls of The Sun. He emerged stillborn, fused with the bestial Jak that all Feathers Gods are pregnant with, and was denied feathers by his reckless parents. The babe was tossed from the sky and quickly forgotten upon the land. No god dare claim parentage as even they know shame.

Abandoned and with no guidance, the naked and pained god became a wild storm of knuckle and claw, scarring the land and terrorising all that lived on it. Only one, a young Manava named Mahtaa, would recognize this mindless wreaking as the divine bawl of a newborn god and calm it with soft word and tenderness and succour. The beaked giant would ever seethe, but placation allowed Mahtaa to guide Tilshek to the home of the Shell Gods, The Mesa.

The Shell Gods were impressed with the mad orphan’s strength and the wisdom of his guardian, asking what drove the new god to such a rage. He cawed to them that he was born of poor love and left naked and wronged, wishing that he could return to his home if only to pluck and maul his kin until The Sun hung red. The chief of the Shell Gods, mighty Zridtara, was greatly amused and sympathetic to Tilshek’s rage against their rival pantheon, welcoming him into his Mesa home as an honorary Shell God. Being too rowdy to live within it’s halls, Tilshek was appeased by sitting atop The Mesa, tended to by often smashed Godler servants and the soothing Mahtaa as he stared at the ever enraging Sun.

While the Godlers would serve their master divine boozes and sacrifices (and suffer pummeling due to minor grievances), Mahtaa’s role was to herd the ram skulled god away from fool furies. He became most needed whenever Tilshek was sent on an “errand” by his new kin, a distraction so the Shell and Feather god pantheons could visit and negotiate without conflict. As Tilshek would rampage across the mortal lands, Mahtaa would outwit his master and aim his rages away from innocent mortals, earning him the title “Storm-Guide”.

One day the tantrummer had been told of a piece of the moon that held Jak yolk, as it was the egg that The Mountain and The Sky conceived the Jaks from, and that it may yield him god feather. Mahtaa did not take this seriously, seeing it as yet another teasing of his master, yet Tilshek was ecstatic that his solar massacre dreams may yet be fulfilled. As they travelled Mahtaa would ponder that, if the moon yolk was real, should his idiot charge receive such a boon, even if it was his birthright as Feather God and as a Half-Jak? Surely he would not only kill his sun kin but also be slain himself in such a mad fervour?

And so Mahtaa would deny Tilshek his prize upon it’s discovery, allowing it to be taken and hidden by Godlers of the Feather Gods. In confusion, the normally unhesitating Tilshek paused for once in his life before striking down an offender. In those moments Mahtaa stood strong and loving, even as his god sprouted a pair of arms to strangle him with. But rather than suffocate, his head bloomed into a kind flower, his godhood blossoming into a champion of mercy due to his many good deeds. From then on Tilshek would ever carry the flower faced god as punishment for his betrayal, and in part as a comfort, like a child may clutch their blanket.

This arrangement would only end upon the coming of the Deiomachy, when peace between gods eroded and fate grew hungry for war. Tilshek silently granted his one and only mercy, releasing his beloved and loyal prisoner so as to spare him from the doom-drum of divine combat.

The Mesa would be capped by a false peak as Tilshek flung himself with a rising storm towards his twin-by-fate: Shrileket the Sun-Dropper. Their clash would announce war between the Feather and Shell, booming as only gods could for days until they fell upon each other’s impalements.

[thenewgirl76]

Do not Disturb, Or ELSE

Inspired by this interestingly humorous post

Danny as the living/unliving embodiment of the "don't wake the sleeper" trope.

While this works with just regular ole Danny, I've decided to throw in both Ghost King Phantom and Constantine and Zatanna as his bio parents.

As Amity's sole major hero, a struggling high-schooler, and last but not least the Fenton's and GIW's biggest sought after prize capture Danny's already dealing with a colossal amount of pressure and rarely has the time to get the proper shut eye.

Throw in his fairly new status as ghost king, and you end up with a massively stressed and cranky sleep deprived teenager that oftentimes reacts rather violently if you dare to wake him prematurely.

Constantine and Zatanna know this all too well, having gotten a front row seat to the mayor getting viciously maimed by this scrawny boy(?) after being abruptly aroused from his nap while looking into the excess death energy surrounding Amity. Which is why after finding out this powerful yet somehow familiar entity was both the usurper of Pariah Dark's throne and their long lost son they agreed to keep it all hush hush. No need to risk a possible bad first impression with the Justice League as well as further hinder their kid's chances of getting more sleep after all.

All is reasonably well until Con and Z fail to stop the newest in a string of cult gatherings attempts to summon the ghost king and have no choice but to get the rest of the JL involved. Suffice to say, their hands are quite full trying to convince the League that the child they just witnessed not only transform into an eldritch abomination then literally maul every last one of the cultists in anger and frustration over being rudely awakened, but also take seemingly forever for them to calm down isn't a ginormous threat that must be closely monitored.

It certainly doesn't help matters when Danny threatens to remove a vital organ from the next person that wakes him up before cuddling up to his mom and dad and going back to sleep.

[daddy-issues-99]

Darth Maul x f!reader smut

TW: pet play, power dynamics, dom/sub relationship, spit, bdsm, oral (m receiving), praise, p in v, degration, slapping/spanking

Words: 1.3k

Being the ruler of Mandalor was obviously a difficult and strenuous job. It required constant attention and authority: no room for compassion or pleasure. That's why he kemp you.

One of the benefits of being the ruler of Mandalor was the gifts: weapons, prizes, precious stones, and of course, you. The perfect toy for the perfect ruler.

Maul walked back to his room after demanding and irritating day. he needed to relieve some stress, take his anger out. Take his anger out on you. His favorite toy.

He barged into his quarters, slamming and locking the door behind him. He turned and walked towards a small but luxurious cage in the corner of his room where you neatly sat with your hands placed gently in your lap, looking up at him with innocent eyes. "Good evening, Master." You said in a gentle voice.

Maul quickly unlocked the cage, ignoring your greeting and grabbed you by the intricate collar around your neck and pulled you out of your cage.

Maul pulled you up by your collar and held it tightly between his forefingers. He shifted his hand to wrap around your neck, gently squeezing it. "Such a beautiful specimen." He whispered, examining your features. His tender demeaner quickly vanished when he quickly shoved you down onto the hard floor so you were on your knees.

"Open. Now." He said in a harsh and stern voice. You happily obliged and opened, sticking your tongue out, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Good girl" He wrapped his hand around your hair, holding on tight enough to hurt before spitting into your mouth. "Swallow, whore." He said in a degrading voice. You happily obliged, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out as proof, earning a satisfied smirk from Maul.

Maul quickly unbuttoned his pants with his free hand, still gripping your hair with the other. He pushed his boxers down, reveling his half hard cock, stroking it a few times with his free hand. "Lets see if you can put that pretty mouth of yours to better use." He pushed the tip of his cock against your lips. "Open" You placed your hands around the base of his cock before eagerly taking it in your mouth causing Maul to let out an earthy growl of pleasure, tightening his grip on your hair.

You slowly started to bob your head back and forth, hollowing your cheeks as his cock hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag. He looked down at you with a sadistic smirk and roughly thrusts his hips, causing you to gag again. "fucking whore." He moaned out in a harsh voice, starting to move your head at his own pace.

You looked up at him with watery eyes as he roughly thrusted into you, spit and tears running down your face as he looked down at you with a satisfied smirk.

You moved your hands to his thighs for support as he roughly thrusted into you, your jaw starting to hurt. You could deny though that this was amazing. Him using you in the hopes of him claiming you, breeding you. The thought alone made you shiver. You slowly moved your hand down and into your skirt, moving your panties aside to shove one finger inside you, causing you to let out a small moan of pleasure.

You slowly thrusted your finger inside your slick walls, curling it to hit just the right spot before moving to your sensitive clit. Your eyes fell closed as you slowly circled your clit, wishing it was Maul. However, the second after you closed your eyes Maul instantly stopped thrusting and pulled his cock from your mouth. You looked up at him with a confused expression, hand still in your skirt.

Maul looked down at you with a furious expression before slapping you hard across the face, causing you to fall to the floor. "You imbecilic whore." He spat out, circling over you with a menacing presence. He quickly grabbed your wrist from your skirt and pulled you up from the ground, holding on so tightly it hurt. "You think you can just touch yourself you without my permission?" He ask in an enraged voice.

"No- no Master, I'm sorry! I just wanted to-" Before you could even finish your sentence maul flung you towards the bed. "I have no need for your pathetic excuses. On the bed. Now!" He yelled, absolutely furious. You quickly got on to the bed and on your hands and knees as per usual instruction but you didn't think that this was gonna be as pleasurable as usual.

He positioned himself behind you and roughly grabbed your hips, lining himself up with your needy cunt. "You want to cum? You want my cock? Then lets see how much you can take." He said through gritted teeth and plunged into you without warning, not bothering to give you time to adjust before roughly thrusting into you.

You moaned out in a mixture of pain and pleasure as your head fell to the plush pillows below you. Maul pounded into you at a ruthless pace in a primal, animalistic fashion, no longer caring about your pleasure.

He harshly slapped your ass and roughly massaged your flesh as he plunged into you at a extraneous pace, slamming into your cervix with every thrust.

You gripped the sheets for dear life, letting out moans of a mix of pain and pleasure. The flesh of your ass was painful and red, your hips hurting from his solid grip that you both knew would leave a bruise, and your orgasm was fast approaching.

Maul quickly wrapped his hand tightly around your throat and pulled you back against his chest, letting out an animalistic growl. "Does my pet want to cum?" He asked in a rough voice. All you could do was nod and babble out a desperate plea. "Yes, master" You said through a breathy moan. His grip only tightened on your throat. "Are you going to touch yourself again?" He asked as he quickened his pace, hitting just the right spot. All that managed to come out of your mouth was a strangled moan as your orgasm crashed into you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Maul held tightly onto your throat as you milked his cock through your orgasm, leaving you a panting mess.

He quickly turned you over onto your back, grabbing your wrists and holding them over your head with his right hand. "Don't you ever forget your place. You are nothing more than a worthless fucktoy for me. Do. You. Understand?" He asked through gritted teeth, slamming his cock into you. You quickly nodded and let out a breathy moan "Yes, master" He smirked and quickly moved his free hand to quickly circle your clit. "Good girl"

Within seconds you were already approaching your second orgasm. His quick and rough pace was all you needed to send you over the edge for the second time. He continued to quickly circle your clit as you screamed his name, milking his cock for the second time.

Maul buried his face in the crook of your neck and bit down hard on your shoulder, causing you to let out a cry of pain as his own orgasm followed, coating your walls with his seed.

After a moment he lifted his head and looked down at you. "I am the only one who can bring you pleasure. Don't you dare tough yourself with out my permission again. Is that understood?" He asked in a stern voice.

You lazily nodded, "Yes, Master" You said in a breathy, tired voice. He looked down at you with a satisfied smirk and pulled out of you, letting his cum seep down your thigh.

"Good, girl"

[tmntstorycomp]

TMNT Story Comp Ultimate Midround Hightime Hell Tournament Round One

Meet the competitors under the cut!

Hopelessly Surviving Leo from Hopelessly Surviving (belongs to @nights-flying-fox) "HS leo died and came back and I have no doubts that he has the guts to face a bear, he doesnt really have to worry about dying again and I think he would be angry enough to go through with a full fight with it! Hes died before and he was fine, why not fight a bear for the hell of it??"

--- Tigerclaw from Black and Brown Fur AU (belongs to @Ainaro0or) "He is trained for years to be the perfect bounty hunter. Has many experience with wild animals and also he is a tiger. He’s bound to fight a bear at some point bearhanded (heh). The fact that he is also has the honor of being Shredder’s adopted son proof that he is capable of do anything to make his father proud. And i mean, ANYTHING."

--- Vaasvi from But First They Must Catch You (belongs to @mudlarkspur) "Vaasvi is an oc version of Sunita's grand googly. (ey/em/eir) Former battle nexus fighter that participated in fighting British occupation in India before moving to the Hidden City 100+ years ago. Ey's an expert in both kalaripayattu and silambam martial art styles and is a slime yokai with resistance to a lot of damage types. Ey could take a bear in a fight."

--- Raph from Erica (belongs to @13runningsomething) "Given that Raph has Hanahaki from suppressing his anger around his family, I feel like he’d put all his repressed rage into this fight just to keep the flowers at. It might give him enough of an edge to win"

--- Kama Chameleon (belongs to @Oddpocalypse)

"Kama is a prodigy martial artist obsessed with proving she’s the Champion! When the Foot Clan unveils their Ultimate Ninja Showdown, she jumped at the chance to make it big! Unfortunately, the “cash prize” was getting mutated and indoctrinated into the Foot. Fortunately she did get kickass powers and super mutant strength! That’s a plus! I don’t know why she would be near a bear. But she would kick its ass for bragging rights alone. After all, bears can’t maul what they can’t see and aren’t immune to energy projectiles! Get it’s ass girl."

[jeonjcngkook]

danger zone | jjk (m) 1.0

・❥・pairing: boxer jungkook x female reader ・❥・genre(s)&au(s): boxer au | fluff | smut | angst | est rel ・❥・w/c: 6.6k ・❥・rating: 18+ ・❥・summary: jung hoseok, an underdog boxer new to the sport calls out current middleweight champion jeon jungkook in a string of twitter videos, taunting him in means for a match for the championship belt. with a neverending run of his mouth, you and jungkook decide that now is the time to shut the newbie up once and for all.. afterall, it is about time jungkook sheds blood, sweat and tears into the gold around his waist. but to the dismay of both of you and jungkook, the sacrifice of holding gold has you both eying another prize at the end of the four weeks.   ・❥・chapter warnings & smut warnings: strong language, jungkook has a fuckin thigh tattoo 🫦 i wanna box hoseok and his mouth myself 🥊 body worshipping (m rec), kissing, fingering, lazy oral sex (f rec), handjob, unprotected sex, shower sex, sex standing up, tummy pressing, creampie, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (f rec), lil spitting.

⁀➷ extras: main masterlist | mail box | playlist | tag list form

⁀➷ tracking tags: #jords asks - asks | #fic feedback - feedback | #fic : danger zone (updates&reviews&asks)

・❥・author’s note: sorry we’re late but we’re here nonetheless! ive been through writers block, an enlistment announcement and then the winter flu on top but ive made it in the end. thank you to @caelesjjk & @baljinciaga for betaing & as usual lil magwai @kth1 for the sexiest banner <33 honorary mentions to @mercurygguk @jkeuphoria1997 @jjkeverlast @jikooknoona @here4btsfics & @jjungkookislife — this is for u <33

Jungkook is a man of many talents. A black belt in multiple martial arts and a vigorous fitness routine that he never seems to falter from. It pays off as he sits in front of you right now shirtless. Your eyes catch the mirror that is hung on the wall opposite the living room, showcasing the way his shoulder muscles in his back tighten and strain against his soft, golden skin. His shoulders are wide and built strong, a small build up of sweat coating his skin and gives it a glistening sheen under the warmth light of the lamp on the side table. You can’t help but to lick your lips, biting onto the skin of the lower to keep you from moaning out.

He has trained with some of the greatest chefs in the world, taking his cooking abilities from excellent to world class in just a few lessons. Unsurprisingly too, he has the voice of an angel which he never lets go to waste by singing anywhere he possibly can. In the shower, in the car, around the house while doing mundane tasks, you name it. Not that you would ever complain. His voice is one of the many things about him that keep you calm and relaxed, especially at night after long gruelling work days.

And as a professional boxer, he is in a whole league of his own. As the current, longest reigning, undefeated champion in his weight category — going against men who have all wanted a taste of both the Korean fighter and the prize wrapped around his waist — only to have left empty handed, except for the bruises they obtain from their merciless rounds of scrapping with each other, Jungkook is certainly at the top of the food chain in the ring.

Jungkook is a simple man with simple goals in mind. His drive to achieve gold, crossing boundaries and mauling anybody and everything in his way to get there is certainly ranked as one of his highest. The knowledge that he reigns as the youngest champion in his weight division, tearing apart opponents and opinions — both of which always doubted him and his abilities to get where he is now.

As a boxer, he is relentless. With immense strength, stamina, speed and power, Jungkook certainly outweighs most in his division. But it isn’t just the physical attributes that got him where he is now. His body is built beautifully too. Not overdone like some athletes, but he keeps his body lean and defined and the way he uses this to his advantage in and out of the fighting ring is nothing short of mesmerising. It allows for his movements in the ring to be smooth and calculated. One punch after another to his punching bag in one-twos, one-two-threes reps, watching the equipment hypnotically rock forward and backways over and over like the pin of a metronome.

Jungkook is clever. His intelligence is higher than the average, which in turn means he is able to outsmart his opponents. He usually knows they’re next move before they know themselves, giving him ample opportunity to pick at their weaknesses easily, manoeuvring himself quickly to avoid blows. His intelligence in the ring allows his accuracy in landing punches on a moving target is no hard feat.

He certainly does have a calibre of skills to be envious of.

As the late morning sunlight begins to filter through the cracks of the blinds, the rays of warmth against your skin causes you to hum in appreciation. The raindrops on from the autumn drizzle pitter patters against the glazing of your window, paired with the downtempo, chilled out, hip-hop sampled lofi music in the background, brings in a serene atmosphere.

After what seems like hours, Jungkook finally emerges into the lounge. Shirtless,  he uses the training vest to dab against his damp forehead, soaking up the sweat that accumulated during his usual daily session with the heavy boxing bag he has hanging in the home gym in the garage.

You had both recently had the gym installed. Even as a compact space, you were both able to design it perfectly to allow Jungkook to have a workstation at his feet for whenever he pleased. 

A category of cardio equipment, including a treadmill with optimal pulse rate straps to wear to manage his heart rate as he works, an elliptical cross trainer, and rowing machines. Muscle toning stations are fitted to the ceiling and walls with handlebars, barbell stations, resistance bands, as well as free weights, were the most recent instalment to the facility. And of course, he keeps his boxing gear with jump ropes, hand wraps, gloves, headgear - you name it - neatly kept on the hanging shelf.

Clearly installing the gym had many benefits for everyone. For Jungkook, he can now achieve his goals without the hassle of leaving your apartment. For yourself, you get every opportunity to take in his gorgeous physique after he’s done training.

Jungkook throws his head back as he squeezes his favourite grapefruit flavoured sports drink down his throat, quenching his thirst. You use the time to gawk at your boyfriend. The sheer size of him was enough to leave your mouth watering. Standing tall, broad and lean, Jungkook is an accurate representation of an ancient Greek God — a fantasy if you will. A figure of immense strength that shows all over his body as the muscles in his arms, shoulders and back ripple under his skin with his movements.

You watch as he runs his hands through his hair. A web of tattoos with intricate detailing from his shoulder snakes down to his hands, only to be covered in more ink. The skin of his abs stretches with the lift of his arms and you softly moan as the grooves and cuts of his muscle tightens right in front of you, glittering with residue sweat in the sunlight and you watch as the drops continue their journey until they are met with the band of his training shorts which hang low on his hips, his taut abdominal muscles hiding behind the fabric. Your eyes reach the bottom of his shorts to find his newest tattoo peaking from underneath the fabric. It’s definitely your favourite. A traditional Chinese dragon is fresh on the skin of his thigh, the ink looking vibrant in its onyx state. There are  chrysanthemums filling in gaps, along with well structured dotwork and deep dark intense shading surrounding the dragon. It truly represents the attributes that Jungkook carries.

Positivity, wisdom, strength and courage.

“Don’t mind me baby,” Jungkook smirks, knowing you’re fully ogling at him. A smile breaks out as he looks upon you comfortably sitting on the couch in nothing but your favourite set of loungewear. “I’m away to jump into the shower, wanna join?” He asks with a teasing raise of his brow and bottom lip caught between his teeth.

The phone in your hand is tossed to the side as you grin in response, jumping up immediately and racing towards the bathroom with your boyfriend.

The both of you are quick to pull off what little clothing you both have on. Jungkook’s hands are gentle as he lifts your shirt past your breasts and up over your head. You slowly undo the drawstrings of your own shorts, sliding them down with ease.

Jungkook turns his back to you, turning on the showering system to allow the water to heat up for you both. You use the opportunity of his back to you to place your hands on his waist, moving your nimble fingers to the centre of his stomach and tracing your fingers down the contours of firm abdomen muscles that harden under your touch before trailing them down the prominent v-line that decorates his lower body.

“You're so beautiful,” you accentuate your words by digging your nails into his skin and slithering them underneath the band of his training shorts and boxers, pulling them down and letting them pool at his feet on the floor. Slow, shallow breaths are heard from in front of you.

The mirror in front of you is clouded by the steam of the water as you peer your head around Jungkook’s broad frame, but nonetheless you manage to see the corners of Jungkook’s mouth curl into a wide smile at your words and it fills your body with warmth knowing that still after several years that your words still affect him.

Jungkook’s hand stretches out to test the temperature for you both before submerging himself underneath the showerhead. Jets of water continue to fill the porcelain as Jungkook reaches his hands for you and helps you in and swaps places with you to place you right underneath the water.

Everything about this moment is perfect. The sound of rushing water making contact with your skin is invigorating. The first minute or so, the water is scolding as you adjust to the change in temperature, but quickly you become warmed to the new climate and soon enough steam fills the room. Condensation taking to the glass screen and moistening your skin all over, your body absorbs the heat in like a sponge. For those few minutes, your mind is clear. The shower does its job to alleviate the tight pressure in your shoulders and neck. It’s bliss.

If it wasn’t for the pair of hands giving your hips a tight squeeze, you would have absolutely forgotten that there is someone else in here with you. You bask in Jungkook’s touch, lacing your own fingers with his and moving your head to rest against the hard planes of his chest.

“Mm, I’m so proud of you for last night,” you tell him.

Last night, Jungkook held his championship belt on the line against fellow Korean boxer Doh Kyung-soo, who, before last night, was undefeated in his competitions. This rightfully earned him the opportunity to go one on one with Jungkook for the Middleweight Belt.

Both of them put up a great fight, earning more views for the pay-per view event than anybody could have predicted. The event was thrilling and adrenaline fuelled with literal blood shed, sweat pouring and some light tears from your side at the moment Jungkook’s fist was raised in the air as victorious and still the undefeated champion.

Of course, round after round of fists flying means bruises, swollen skin and searing scars. Battle scars are what Jungkook likes to call them. They litter his skin all over. Some scars find home within the ink on his body and others are displayed proudly on their own, where Jungkook can proudly tell the tales of his tournaments.

He looks down at you with fondness, water pouring down you both as he plants a barrage of kisses on your forehead. You raise your head towards his so he can press a proper kiss onto your lips.

“I’d never be where I am without you, you know that?”

The kiss itself is nothing short of spectacular. Jungkook’s lips are soft with your favourite flavoured lip balm, just for your own taste. Jungkook kisses you softly and languidly, taking his time to feel the warmth of your own mouth on his. His tongue licks at your lips as his teeth gently pull on the skin. Responsively, you part your lips and tangle your tongue with Jungkook’s, slowly teasing him for more access, but as quick as the kiss had come, it stops.

Leaning down to your ear, Jungkook presses your back into his chest as his head dips to the shell of your ear before grazing at the flesh with his teeth. Your body erupts with goosebumps at the ministrations, head lolling back as you release a moan, only heard due to the proximity of you both.

You manage to switch positions in the tub, the water now cascading down Jungkook’s back as you turn to face the other direction. He tips his head back into the oncoming stream and runs his hand through his hair, feeling the strands get longer as they soak up the water from the shower and start to stick to his neck.

Jungkook picks up your shampoo and starts squeezing the citrus scented liquid into his hand and you tip your head back to allow him to lather the liquid into your hair.

As he does, you pick up your green loofah and squeeze an ample amount of soap onto the nylon ball, ready to massage it into Jungkook’s skin. The cranberry fragrance of the body wash mingles with the citrus scent of the shampoo to create a fruity concoction.

You turn around and observe Jungkook as his fingers rub into your scalp in the most relaxing manner. You observe the way his muscles ripple and shift as his hands move back and forth. Pressing your soapy loofah over his chest, you take your time working over his collarbones and pecs before moving down over his abdomen. Casting a quick glance down, you feel heat rising to your cheeks when you notice his cock semi-hard, twitching ever so slightly. 

Your hand trails down as you squeeze the loofah and watch as the soap subs release from the cloth and run down his body with the water. The sight is stunning as you watch his abs tighten, glistening in the light, as the soapy concoction makes way to his cock. Your mouth waters as the soap covers his dick, the suds disappearing with the water.

“Tilt your head back, baby.”

Doing as you’re told, you walk back into the water and let it soak into your hair, washing away the products Jungkook had expertly lathered.

Once the water has filled its intended purpose, Jungkook takes the loofah from your hands and turns you around so you’re facing the shower head.

“Hands up,” he instructs.

You wrap your hands around his neck and let Jungkook squeeze the loofah into your own skin. He manages to keep one hand on your waist, giving it a gentle squeeze now and then.

He starts with an arm and follows it down to your chest and then swapping to the other to drag it down your second. Your lashes flutter as he rubs relaxing circles into your skin and you can’t help but let a moan leave your lips.

Without hesitation, Jungkook’s hand makes way to the top of your right boob and gives the loofah a squeeze once again to release more suds. From above you, his towering frame watches your nipples harden underneath the soap. His hand follows it down and grips your flesh in his hands, squeezing again and watching as your skin shows through the spaces of his hands.

This time you moan out loud, the water drowning it out but Jungkook hears you perfectly fine. His free hand comes up to the other at your chest as he swaps the loofah into his other hand and repeats his action and watches as your left nipple hardens in the same fashion as the first. His fingers find your right nipple and roll it in between his thumb and forefinger in a forwards and backwards motion under the water.

Jungkook moves forward and you feel his cock press against the swell of your ass, the tip resting at the base of your spine. You can feel him thick and heavy, twitching at the contact of your soft skin. You take that as encouragement to drop your hand from his neck and wrap it around his dick and stroke him, marvelling at the feeling of his lips meeting your neck, the graze of his teeth on your skin. Your hand gently pumps him in a steady rhythm as you pay attention to running your thumb along the vein with every stroke and squeezing at the tip.

“I want to be inside you,” Jungkook whispers into the crook of your neck and you bite your lip at his words.

You nod your confirmation and Jungkook spreads his legs to balance himself as the water continues to pour from the showerhead. Reaching down, he grabs one of your legs and holds it behind your knee with his forearm to open your legs for him, your pussy opening for his hard cock.

“You have no idea how fucking hot you are,” you mewl into his ear, before nipping it, your fingers tracing the long wet strands of black hair that are sticking to his cheek, strands ending under his jaw due to the grown out length.

With your words, Jungkook tilts his head and presses a searing hot kiss to your lips. It’s immediately passionate and filled with desire for each other as you reciprocate. You let your lips part and slide your tongue with his as his lips smack against yours. He still tastes like your favourite lip balm and it makes you smile into the kiss. The kiss is broken as your leg is lifted higher and you feel the tip of his leaking cock pressing against your slick entrance.

He presses into you slowly but with enough vigour that there is no resistance. The girth of his cock stretches you wide deliciously and you swallow hard, your body warms with desire and your thighs quiver in pleasure.

Another slow thrust is delivered from behind you and Jungkook is fully inside you, his tip pressing enticingly against your cervix. The feeling of being so full of Jungkook intensifies with every inch that he sheathes inside of you.

“You’re such a good girl for me, baby,” Jungkook babbles,caught in his own pleasure. You can feel his breathing become ragged and trembles as he tries to steady his breath.

“You always feel so good when I fuck you.”

One of your hands wraps around his neck once more as the other finds home on the cold titled wall in front of you, helping you keep your balance steady as Jungkook finally picks up his speed.

“Just want to take care of you J-Jungkook. You always make me feel so good,” you mewl through gritted teeth as Jungkook continues to thrust into you. His fingers tangle in your hair to pull your neck back so he can press a bruising open mouth kiss onto your lips.

His thrusts are vigorous and your body shivers as his pace becomes rampant. The sounds of skin slapping together drowns out the sound of the water jetting against the porcelain floor. It is a tell-tale sign that Jungkook is chasing his orgasm and you can’t help but clench around him to assist him reaching his high.

“Fuck, baby, you’ve got the tighest cunt, gonna make me come so much, f-fuck!” You lean into him and let him kiss the side of your neck tenderly, moving pieces of your own hair out of the way. You peer down and watch as he drags his cock in and out and back in again, the sounds of your wet pussy squelching with every thrust is obscene and draws Jungkook closer to his orgasm.

You can’t help but clench again and again, your body feels full, your breathing hitches in your throat and your body is electrified.

“M-more,” he punctuates the word with a thrust, “nearly,” and another thrust, “there,” and another.

Jungkook becomes desperate to come. He places a hand at the bottom stomach and presses down, feeling the way your skin protrudes as his length enters you and presses through your cervix. The other hand finds your clit and rubs it in generous circles, causing you to clench around him harder. Your own slick builds at the assault from Jungkook’s fingers on your clit and you scream as your body becomes sensitive to his touch. He ruts into you once more, his hand on your tummy pressing for the last time as he finally stills against you. His cock twitches once, twice and his head rolls back as he finally comes, shooting ropes of sticky white into your swollen pussy.

In his state of euphoria, Jungkook’s head plants itself on top of your shoulder, his hair falling forward and sticking to your skin as well as his own. You both bask in the feeling of being both filled and spent. He tightens his grip around your waist and squeezes you lovingly and kisses your shoulder, peppering wet licks up to your jaw. His cock softens gradually albeit still twitching inside of your cunt as the last remaining droplets drip from his slit.

Happy that he isn’t leaking any further, Jungkook places your shaking leg back down and pulls himself out of your pussy slowly, carefully knowing you’ll be sensitive..

Jungkook helps you clean you both off once more before turning the water off. Stepping out first, he grabs a towel and wraps it around his hips, securing it together and then reaching for another for you. Gently, he helps you out of the shower and wraps your own towel around your body.

“Thank you,” you place a kiss on his cheek.

The shower did its job by allowing you a moment to relax and spend time with your boyfriend. It was now mid afternoon and the rain outside had picked up exponentially. The sounds of soft pitter patters now thundering against the double glazed windows, yet somehow it still remained warm indoors with your own ray of sun entering the room as you relaxed into the couch.

With your phone in your hand, you don’t pay any attention to Jungkook as he falls to his knees in front of you, his hands placed on both of your thighs and trailing down towards you as he continues to lower himself on the ground. His head tilts to the side, lips peppering little kisses on your left leg from your knee, down to your calf until he reaches your ankle and placing a final kiss on the bone.

You moan at the attention Jungkook is bestowing onto your lower body. His hands apply a little more pressure on your ankle as he pulls them apart from each other, effective in widening your legs for his viewing pleasure.

“Hm, baby,” you hear him say with a low, quiet voice; feeling his lips ghosting themselves back on your leg. This time though, they’re parted and you can feel the moisture from his hot breath against your skin and you shiver in response.

Your free hand reaches in between your legs in search of Jungkook, in search of any part of him you can get a hold of and pull. You continue to scroll through your socials on your phone when you decide to open Twitter.

Scrolling through social media can be a mundane pastime. Something neither of you do regularly as you try your hardest to keep away from negativity and false headlines. But on the odd occasion, you do like to suck yourself in and dive into the world of current events through the glorious app.

You see Jungkook from the top of your phone, watching as his tongue darts past his lips and flattens it on your skin before sealing it with a wet kiss. You smile behind the screen of your phone and go back to scrolling through your phone, finding some delight in the trending topic section. 

Jungkook eagerly forwards himself towards your crotch, close enough to feel the warmth radiate from your core. You flatten your thighs and sink yourself further into the fabric of the couch below you. You feign attention on the mobile device and bask in the pleasure that comes from the tip of Jungkook’s tongue pressing the smallest amount of pressure onto your clit from across the lace of your panties. Your tummy tightens and you moan lightly as you feel your boyfriend taking a generous sniff of your honeyed scent, knowing that below the useless and now wet fabric that there is sweet ambrosia awaiting just for him and in response to that knowledge, you hear him release a deep throaty groan against your clothed pussy, the sound vibrating through you, causing your hips to arch to chase the feeling of your boyfriends tongue

As he continues the assault on your pussy, something on your screen catches your eye and your attention shifts from Jungkook’s tongue to the glare of your phone. Holding it in front of your face, you can see a thread of videos from a name you had never heard of. The start of the thread had Jungkook’s name written in the title, along with a string of words as a means to call him out.

You take slight interest in this and click on the beginning of the thread. Usually these things are home made videos by young men calling on Jungkook to take them on. Most of them aren’t fighters but just people behind a screen, trolling, pretending to be tough enough to take him on. If you ever come across this type of content, you just laugh it off and continue on scrolling.

However based off of the video thumbnail, the first video in the sequence looks like it’s taken from a professional boxing ring. There is a crowd around this boxer as he stands in the ring, one foot on either side of his opponent who you presume has just been taken down by the unknown man in the Twitter videos.

Curiosity takes over you as you click on the first video. The sound starts up to a blank screen, the sound of punches being thrown and connecting to something, or from the sound of the grunts, someone. As the screen lights up, this is when you are introduced to the crowd surrounding the man in the ring.

“What are you watching?” Jungkook murmurs as he takes two fingers and ghosts them up and down your pussy. He presses them lightly against the centre of your panties and presses, feeling the wet slick that has gathered from his teasing touches wet the pads of his fingers through the material.

The sound of the video continues, as you listen to this person talk about his victory over the opponent who is stirring back to consciousness below him.

“Hoseok, people are calling you the ultimate underdog, what are your thoughts and response on this claim?” The man interviewing him asks.

You watch on as the guy who you now know as Jung Hoseok pulls out his mouthguard, a trail of saliva following before he begins answering the question.

You lose your focus on the video as the pressure of Jungkook’s fingers causes your eyelids to flutter. You try to concentrate on the video playing as much as you can, trying to take in every word Jung Hoseok says as your want to know grows. 

What you can gather is this man’s media training is spot on from what you have listened too, with poised and professional responses. But you’re once again torn from the screen as both of Jungkook’s hands move to your sides slowly and slips his fingers between your hips and your underwear.

The warmth of his skin feels blissful against your own as he begins to pull them both garments down, pulling his lower lip in between his teeth as he grins up at you when he watches as your slick coats the lace and your inner thighs.

“Jungkook,” you moan out loud, “d-do you know him?” Your words stutter as they fall from your lips as the cool air makes contact with your cunt.

Jungkook doesn’t register your words as he watches as your string of arousal snaps and coats your thigh in thick arousal, causing him to grunt once more and press a kiss to your lower thigh, right above your knee.

“J-Jungkook?” You try again.

“What is it babe?”

Gathering your words once more, you reask your question about the unknown man in the videos. You turn your phone around to show who it is you’re asking about.

He raises his head and looks at your phone. Barely a few seconds go by and Jungkook goes back to wrapping his arms around your thighs, palms resting against your legs to pull you further towards your mouth.

“Jungkook!” You giggle, surprise in your voice as he places each leg over his shoulders.

He shrugs in response. “Yeah, I know him briefly,” he starts, lowering his head back towards your cunt. He points his tongue, closes his eyes and runs the wet muscle along your slit from your ass to your clit. You can’t help but lift your hips to chase his mouth. Your grip on your phone tightens as your knuckles turn white. “Don’t know him that well. He isn’t on my level babe,” he finishes with a wink.

Jungkook flattens his tongue this time dives straight in for your clit, watching as a trail of his saliva drags across your clenching pussy. Your instant reaction is to close your thighs around his head and you can’t help but giggle when Jungkook groans from the pressure on either side of his head.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, wondering if he had seen this thread before or at least heard what you are playing. As you finish your sentence,  Jungkook releases your legs from clenching around him, the cold air once again making you shiver and temporarily forget what you asked.

He spreads your legs and noses at the apex of your thighs, taking in the scent of your arousal in between your legs. You moan quietly and tug his head closer to your sweet cunt. “I’m thinking about eating your pussy right here.”

Jungkook licks over your wet folds teasingly. And again. Taking your clit into his mouth, he sucks harshly, causing a multitude of whines and whimpers to greet the open air.

You whine, something missing. “Please, fingers, please.”

You pick up your phone once more and unlock the screen. Opening up the Twitter page and scrolling until you find the most recent video posted from sixteen hours ago attached to the thread. You play the video, waiting with small anticipation to hear exactly what is being said from this Hoseok person.

Jungkook leans back in and dives straight back into your pussy, his fingers part your lips as he drops his head and slurps at your juices. Sticking his tongue in your hole, he laps up every drop of precum leaking from your pussy. 

Following your demand, Jungkook brings his thumb up and presses into your clit as he eases his forefinger inside you. He works his finger in and out of you for a moment, watching as your hand comes down and fists into his hair as you open your legs further for him. The deep breathing of Hoseok and gravelly sound of his voice seeps out of your speakers once more as Jungkook’s attention is half on the video. You pull at his hair hard as your focus is split between Jungkook making out with your cunt and the video of your boyfriend being trash talked.

“He’s never fought anyone with an ounce of skill. He’s picked at the easiest lot, giving him a false power trip when he beats them,” Hoseok hypes. “Take Kyung-soo for example… the kid is a novice. Beating someone like Kyung-soo is not an occasion where nearly half that hype was deserved…”

You arch your back in pleasure as his tongue sucks and laps inside you, rubbing along your inner walls, back and forth deliciously. The contrast of the cold air and his hot mouth on you have you lifting your hips for him to take more of you.

You exit out of the video and hear Jungkook let out a bitter laugh at the words from Jung Hoseok. The vibrations from his laugh causes you to shiver. His tongue kisses his teeth and then proceeds to probe against his cheek the same way he does when he becomes irritable. Looking up from between your legs, Jungkook watches you lazily scroll through your phone. His 

The next video beneath it reads:

“Jung Hoseok CALLS OUT Undefeated Reigning World Middleweight Champion Jeon Jungkook To Fight On The Grandest Stage in Las Vegas.”

Clicking on the new thumbnail, you feel Jungkook's pace subconsciously pick up as the words from Hoseok seem to be making some effect over him and he is taking it out on your messy cunt. In this video, you can see that Jung Hoseok has set his camera up in the corner of the boxing ring in what looks like a dark training centre. There is a free standing heavy duty boxing bag set up in the middle with targets spread across the synthetic vinyl.

“...This is what real boxers do. Jeon is not a real boxer. I have been prompting him and his team to fight me for several weeks now and we’ve had NOTHING!! No responses, no correspondence, nothing!” Hoseok stops talking momentarily as he opts for showboating to the camera, throwing fists into the bag in front of him. Impressively, he hits the marks on the targets one after another in a perfect sequence, something both you and Jungkook don’t want to admit. After a minute of punching, he stops and turns to the camera once again. “Real fighters make fights fucking happen. You’re scared. You’re scared of me. And if you aren’t, then fucking prove it. Put your title on the line against me and I promise I’ll make it worth your time…”

Looking down at Jungkook, you can see his brow is furrowed, the words of Hoseok clearly affecting him more than he wants to let on. “Babe, are you okay?” You ask breathlessly.

Jungkook adds a second finger into the mix and fucks them into you harder, feeling you open up further. Your eyes tighten in pleasure as he sinks in knuckle deep and curls them at the very last moment, caressing every inch of your walls and scissoring you at a rapid pace. The sounds of your juices squelching obscenely is all Jungkook wants to focus on. “You’re so fucking hot like this. But if you’re going to use your phone, at least be useful and record me fucking you with my tongue” he mouths into your pussy and the coil in your stomach tightens with his words of what’s away to happen.

Your clit is beyond overstimulated and your muscles tighten as he is  two knuckles deep inside of you; it’s all exactly what you need to drive you over the edge with a pathetic squeal.

Your body tenses and your thighs tighten around his head once again, trapping him there while your mouth opens and your eyes roll back as an inaudible scream takes over you. You ride out your intense orgasm and while your body is falling apart, Jungkook doesn't stop, roughly finger fucking you through your high, overstimulating you and causing a second orgasm to rip through you. 

Minutes go by and by the time your orgasm has subsided, your body feels light and overall drained of every possible feeling. You’re able to settle your breathing eventually. You press the back of your hand on your forehead and dab away at the built up perspiration that had gathered. Your legs continue to tremble from your orgasm as Jungkook moves your legs from his shoulders one by one and places a kiss on each of your thighs.

In your moment of lust, you had totally forgotten about the video you had playing. Picking up your phone once more, putting in your passcode and watching as the video plays automatically where it left off.

Hoseok continues. “You claim you’re the best, you claim you’re the greatest boxer of our generation but so far you haven’t given me or anybody else any proof of that. Holding a title belt proves nothing if you can’t own it correctly.” You both stay silent, the room feeling smaller as you listen. “You’re nothing Jeon if you can’t prove it. I could spark you. You nickname yourself ‘Lights Out’, but I’ll be the one to shut your lights out in minutes. I am giving you the biggest opportunity of your fighting career, at least be man enough to take me on…”

When it looks like Hoseok is coming towards the camera to eventually turn it off, he stops right in front of the lens and shows a tauntingly sinister smile. Lifting a boxing glove up to his mouth, he undoes the velcro strap around his wrist with his teeth and shimmies the glove from his hand, freeing it to eventually take off the other. He spits out towards the ring mat and looks one final time into the camera lens. This is a much different man to the one who had primed and composed responses in the first video.

“And bring your girl with you — if we’re not going to bet money and title belts then I’d absolutely bet on her ass.”

Those are the last words before the camera is cut off.

Both your body and Jungkook’s seize at the mention of you. Bringing you into his call out is a low jab to Jungkook and causes a tense clouded atmosphere to fill the room. Normally when someone is trying to catch Jungkook’s attention, they take hits at his fighting skills but nobody has gone far enough as to mention his relationship.

Hoseok seems to have found Jungkook’s one weak spot and is pressing his fists into it, attempting to rile and wake up the bear. It’s clever but insanely stupid on Hoseok’s part. But if he wants a reaction, he is certainly getting it.

“Jungkook, what are you going to do?” You ask weakly, almost like you are the one that has overstepped a boundary.

He moves his arm from your grip, stands up and you drop the phone onto the fabric of the couch. Jungkook begins pacing back and forth around the room in front of you,  a look of seriousness and concentration laced with anger is etched onto his features.

Turning around to make his way out of the room, he snatches his own phone from the dining table and leaves the room.

You pick up your phone and scroll through the comment section of the video to find it filled with peoplefrom all around the world who are eager to see this fight happen. There are remarks around you thrown in there and you can only hope that Jungkook doesn’t see them. But you know that won’t be the case as this is now all plastered on social media. News outlets are bound to pick this up.

Five minutes pass and Jungkook ventures back into the living room. He doesn’t look quite as antagonised as he did when he finished the video and left the room, but you know to allow him a moment to think and calculate his next move. Jungkook looks at you sympathetically and bends down to pick you up. You’re quick to wrap your legs around his lithe waist as his hands secure you from your ass.

Jungkook kisses your lips with vigour, a little harder than earlier as he pushes his tongue against your lips and tangles with your own. It’s a little messy but filled with hunger.

“What are you going to do, baby?” You whisper against his lips, reattaching your mouth to his once more as he tightens his grip on your ass and pulls you impossibly closer.

Breaking the kiss once more, Jungkook looks into your eyes and smiles. “He wants a fight? Then he’s getting a fucking fight.”

[thenightmarketofdathomir]

Oh Wishmonger, patroness of things too sinful to tell! One more for the night, for the lonely cold road! For whenever your honor has the time or inclination! It may be a trifle and perhaps too sweet and cloying for these dark side brothers who have dealt with so much worse… but can this humble palmer request a smutty version of the three brothers with a plus-sized reader? (I am sure there are SOME out in the gffa!)

Specifically one that may be self-conscious about being with warriors that are chiseled out of dark granite, warriors that are maybe admired and revered and therefore not expected to stoop to manhandling women of inferior beauty.

What I mean to say is, let’s be honest, the Opress brothers could have ANYONE, so is it surprising that many around them ask why YOU? Lumbering you. Ugly you. Does Not Fit Into Sith Nightgowns you.

If you please Wishmonger, if it tickles your fancy! If it kindles your imagination!

When asked about their values, you'll often hear about strength and honour and respect mentioned before physical perfection in Nightbrother circles. Valour. Physical prowess. Stamina. Endurance. Fearlessness.

Sit around the communal fire in the village when the brothers are trading tales, and no one is talking about how cute they looked in the middle of the hunt with their teeth blacked.

A reminder:

Feral wears scars on the back of his head.

Savage never filed his horns down for repair after some Jedi lopped them off when aiming for his head.

And Maul, never indifferent to what he lost at Kenobi's hands, never once speaks of himself as half of what he might've been.

It's not their way. So maybe that's something they'll need to teach you, prized pet that you are on their arm and in their beds, because no one -- no one -- who admires and respects them would dare say something disparaging about their chosen partner and live to tell about it.

Oh, and Sith might have nightgowns, but last I heard Nightbrothers far prefer you nude when you're sleeping together (and panty-free in public, but maybe that's another story.)

Pairing: Darth Maul x Reader, Savage Opress x Reader, Feral Opress x Reader Rating: Explicit Warnings: P in V, Oral (receiving), blindfolding, past mentions of abuse (Nightsisters) Notes: Plus Sized AFAB Reader.

Feral: Isn't fond of turning the lights off when he takes you to bed, despite your insistence. He likes watching your face when you come for him, but knowing you're self-conscious, he blindfolds you instead and gets to work -- thighs, tummy, ass, flipped over and spread wide, taking palmfuls of your breasts, leaving bite marks on your hips. Maps your stretch marks. Your dimples. Your scars. Your nipples. Finds the exact right places where you're sensitive exploits those areas while he helps you remember there's more to your lovemaking than just seeing what he's capable of. He's a talker, too: likes telling you what he likes about you -- the way you tremble and how you squirt a little and the way you shudder when you forget it's not a performance but it just feels good. Most of all, he likes hearing what you think -- a little praise for him when he fucks you the right way is always appreciated.

Savage: The first time you express reservations about seeing you naked, he brings you to the cave on the Witch's Horn where Gorgara makes it's lair -- the one where all those brave Nightbrothers before him have left their marks, handprints, names carved, and some little illustrations. The drawing he shows you made years ago in hydraatis acid is a scrawny, weak little thing who wears his horns shorter, but the tattoos are familiar. It's him, before his transformation. "I sometimes wish I could go back there," he tells you in confidence, because the transformation leaves scars that you can't understand even though he now represents someone else's ideal of physical perfection. It's a good thing the creature isn't around anymore, because when you came up to the cave, you didn't realize how badly the confession would make you want to kiss him, to hold him close, to straddle those heavy thighs so you could show him how you appreciate him. He's not a monster. He's no longer someone else's creation -- in some ways you're similar. You're not the only one who needs the reminder: how he sees himself is not how you see him.

Maul: Doesn't want to hide you. Does not understand your immediate reluctance when the dress he offers you -- the black and red satin sheathe that clings and trails and reveals the swell of your chest, the ample curve of your ass that he so loves to squeeze, the plummeting back that reveals the rich expanse of your flesh that leaves you self-conscious because when he sees smooth and soft, you see rolls. He's dreamed about you in this garment that he's had made especially -- draped off his arm with a flute of champagne and glittering with the little threads of gold chain holding the fabric across your chest. It barely closes, but not because it doesn't fit -- that's how he designed it. He loves your breasts and wants to see them. His prize. His queen. His goddess. Maul knows how to create a spectacle, but you don't understand the service: why he would go to the trouble of creating this perfect wrapping with its little embellishments like you were a trophy. You humour him because you want him to be happy. You wear it, and it feels too luxurious -- sliding against your thighs every time you take a step. Falling off your limbs like water. It ripples with starlight. You wish you deserved it. You wish you could wear it better. You don't see how everyone turns, following your progress as he stalks your steps, hungry, thirsting for the moment his roving hands will lift your hem, claws dragging up your thighs when he bends you over to feast on everything the dress teases. It doesn't tear, you see: a lesson you learn later, breathless, when frustrated and angry that you don't see things his way, he steals you into a darkened corner and delves under the skirts -- head first. It doesn't tear on sharp horns when he's on his knees before you -- gasping, gripping red stone, terrified by his hunger and your proximity to the party -- the way he keeps growling when his fingers stretch you open, his tongue thirsty for everything you've teased him with. This is the problem: Maul is villainous when it comes to your pussy, and determined to convince you of your beauty and your worth, to have you see things his way, he'll fuck you until you until you don't have the strength left to protest. Hope you're ready.

[catnipaddictt]

No plan

wc: 3k

series masterlist ⭑ co-creator @memoiich

Getting out of Qui Gon’s van, you finally reach the Alderaan apartment complex. You climb the 4 flights of stairs, unlock your door, and effectively fall inside. Flicking on the old light switch, the overhead lights flicker into action, illuminating the space. You shed your bag and kick off your shoes before making a beeline towards the shower. You let the hot water wash away the memories of the stressful day you just had, trying to forget about your most prized possession; Shelby. After your shower, you make your way over to your bed and collapse into it face first. Today has been long and hard as well as a bit of a disaster. And lucky you, you get to do it tomorrow and the day after that, and then… you try not to dwell on it. Suddenly tiredness hits you like a truck and you fall asleep quickly.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Your alarm goes off. Great. But today will be more bearable, you only have to call into work for 2 hours tops. Rex only has one meeting today meaning you can do most of your work remotely. You swing your legs out of bed and dress quickly, grabbing your bag and piece of slightly burnt toast as you head out your door. Having realised that walking to work isn’t going to go well in the long run, you pull out your holo, searching for public transport options. Fortunately there is a shuttle that runs to almost exactly where Paper Force is. Even though Mr. Kenobi and Jinn offered you a ride to work today, you felt bad, and you weren’t completely hopeless.

You were completely hopeless. You somehow managed to get on the wrong shuttle and ended up at the other side of the city, the opposite of where you needed to be about 10 minutes ago. Running a hand through your hair you scroll on your holo, locating what shuttle you need to get on to get to your office. Finally you figure out what one to take, wave it down, pay probably too much, and take a seat.

20 minutes later you arrive at the office, thankfully still having just under half an hour before the meeting begins. “You’re late again” Rex. “I’m so sorry sir, I took the wrong bus” You say, slightly terrified. “Is this going to be a common thing?” He asks. “No, it won’t happen again”. “Good, now please go set up the meeting, office 8”. You scurry down the hall and into meeting office 8. The long table is almost set up, all you need to do is connect the powerpoint and wait for it to begin.

Not even 10 minutes later, your co-workers entered. You took your seat off to the side, next to Rex, who would sit at the head of the table. You made eye contact with Obi wan. He smiled back and started walking over, only to be beaten by the Zabrak from yesterday. He sat down quickly and glared at Obi wan. 'Odd' was all you could call it. Maybe you had judged the Zabrak too early, You tried to introduce yourself “ hey, I'm y/n”. He looked up, stared at you for a bit and looked back to his computer he had set up before him. "I know, Rex has been screaming it for the last 2 days” he gave you a bored yet judging look.

You heard a long drawn out sign. You looked up to where the sound came from and saw Obi wan with his head up and his arms crossed above it. He looked at you while changing his posture “Maul isn’t very talkative, I'm afraid" he whispered to you, now leaning over the table, arms still crossed. The Zabrak next to you, known as Maul, let out a grumble. “He also doesn't warm up” he added. “I do, but only to people with talent” maul spoke up “you don’t have any, Kenobi”. Obi wan rolled his eyes lazily. Rex walked in with the blue twi’lik behind him. Obi wan scouted back, sitting normally.

You were here to write everything down, it was quite fun for you, a bit of a challenge sometimes but enjoyable. Orn Free Taa took his seat at the other end of the table. The meeting began and you started typing away. It was about 20 minutes in when you noticed the Zabrak next to you glancing, his eyes kept trailing to your typing hands. When he looked over again you quickly turned so you caught his gaze. He looked surprised and maybe embarrassed you mouthed a question; “what are you looking at?” He turned his eyes away and made a typing impression with his hands beneath the table and then a thumb up, it was definitely a bit awkward but you nodded. He was impressed by your typing. How nice. You were talented.

You started up with a satisfying smile. A snort left the man in front of you, looking at him confused. He made an overly dramatic gesture, somewhat like a schoolgirl who just got a love letter. You were still very confused. He leaned back a bit while swiping his hand in the air, in a “it's not important” kind of way. You let it go and went back to typing. Obi wan got called by Rex, who looked annoyed at him. He quickly went into his explanation of the deal. It was quite impressive how he transitioned so smoothly.

The meeting ended soon after, since Orn Free Taa was almost immediately convinced by Obi Wan's explanation, but there was still a lot that needed to happen for the merch. So maul was taken off the project and Obi wan was put as main associate for paper force. Maul didn’t get time to mourn since he would now work on the next deal with Dathomir imperium. To your surprise you were also appointed to the job since it seemed that the salesmen were horrible at planning.

You were a bit nervous to work on this new project, you dwelled on it for a bit but were pulled out of your thoughts by Maul suddenly appearing in front of you. ”When can we work on the project?" he asked “I normally work alone but I know Dathomir well and they don’t appreciate waiting, so you might be useful”. Dathomir imperium was a women owned hobby lobby that was mainly well known for their high quality inks they produced in house. “I can't work this evening but tomorrow evening may work” you said. Maul huffed and scratched something down on a piece of paper. “that's my number I won’t be in tomorrow, call me” Maul said handing you the little paper, and then he walked off.

Obi Wan appeared behind you. "He seemed to have taken a liking to you” he spoke, spooking you, you hadn’t noticed him. Turning around you answered ”he was impressed by my typing” while mimicking the typing with your hands.” Good with your hands huh” obi wans words had just left his lips when his eyes widened and he started to sputter “i-i didn’t mean to” you cut him off “it's alright". You were already laughing at how quick the cool and calm façade slipped. “I am indeed good with my hands“ you bit back .

Obi wan was flustered, very very flustered. He didn’t mean to flirt but he wasn’t regretting it, not one bit. “Should I walk you to the door?” he asked still very flustered. “To the door? Are you kicking me out, Obi Wan?” you asked back, glinting with mischief. "No no, I wouldn’t dare to” he said with a roll of his eyes “I simply am not allowed to leave, Rex would hunt me down himself” he started walking towards the hallway and you followed .

He opened the door to the outside. “What are plans for tomorrow?” he questioned with a smile on his face. "I have to come to work and then I might have a work-date with Maul” you answered. Obi Wan's smile fell for a second and lifted back up straight after “well then good luck with that, I need to go back up" and with that he turned and walked away. You started your commute home.

It was only midday so you decided to stop in at a small bakery on the way back to your apartment to get your lunch. The outside of the bakery is a light blue, with white shutters and wildflowers growing in the barrels outside, it looked like something out of a fairytale.

When you walk inside a bell dings above you, signaling that someone has entered the shop. An older man with longer hair and a pointed beard looks up from the book he was reading behind the counter. “Hello miss, what can I get for you today?” He asks rather sternly. “Well...I…uh” you reply looking at the cabinet of available food, It was filled with breads, pastries, pies, sandwiches, and other baked goods. Another ding of the bell signals someone else has walked in. You look back up at the man, “I’ll just have a Ryshcate please, and a coffee to go”. He nods and pulls out the pastry, and places it in a brown paper bag. You pass over the credits, tell him your name and he points to a seat where you can sit and wait for your drink. The man calls out a name; “Padme, coffee to go please!”.

A beautiful young woman enters from a door behind the counter . Her long brown hair flows perfectly behind her as moves. The next customer who you almost forgot about moves towards the counter. You don’t see the person’s face but you immediately recognize his voice. The irritating mechanic from yesterday morning. He smiles and greets the man “Sio, how are you?, haven’t seen you around here in a while”. The older man, called Sio, returns the pleasantries, you can tell that the mechanic is most likely a regular. “So what will it be today?” Sio asks. “Just the usual, oh and and a crumble-bun for Soka” Sio speaks to Padme who looks at the mechanic. She glares, he smiles.

The mechanic turns away, and spots you, he must recognize you as he raises an eyebrow. He pushes off the counter and moves towards you. “It's rude to ease-drop, you know.” You don’t reply and he rolls his eyes. “I ordered the parts for Shelby” He states. “You remembered her name” you say surprised. “Yeah well”. Padme speaks your name from the counter and you stand up to collect your precious caffeine. The mechanic moves as well, seeing that his order is also ready. You take the paper cup from her and smile, saying a polite ‘thank you’. You turn away clutching your paper bag and mug. You hear the mechanic and Padme exchange words as you head out the door, beginning your trek home.

“Hey miss!” you hear from behind you. What does he want now, you internally sigh. “Do you want to come by the shop? I have a few things to go over with you, if you aren't working that is?” The mechanic asks. You look down at your holo, realising that it's only just after midday, maybe visiting Shelby will make your day better. “Okay” you reply to him. “Great, I'll give you a lift, you don’t have a rental or anything do you?” The mechanic asks. “No”. Now that you think of it, it would have been wise to look into getting a rental while Shelby is in disrepair. He seems to hear your thoughts as he speaks; “You should probably look into that”. You nod before he begins to guide you towards the same pick-up as yesterday. “I hope you don’t mind teenagers”.

You sit in the back seat of the pickup truck as said teenager talks to the mechanic. Who’s name you now know; Anakin . The two chatter away about some engine related thing you don’t understand as you chew your food. The pastry is good, you will definitely be returning there in the future.

After a 20 minute drive the truck pulls up to the MustaCar building. You take in its faded sign and sad selection of plants, no weeds, in the small garden out front. Anakin parks the vehicle and you undo your seatbelt, hopping out of your seat onto solid ground. “Your car, sorry Shelby is this way” The teenager, called Ahsoka, speaks as she points her head towards the garage. You follow Ahsoka and Anakin as they walk and talk; “So she’ll probably be here for a while, shipping is slow this time of the year” Anakin says. He opens the door and there she is. Your Shelby sits there looking as wonderful as ever, you can’t help the small smile that grows on your face. You never realised how much of a constant your car was in your life, and it had been over 24 hours since you had last seen her.

Ahsoka moves around Shelby, pointing and explaining things that seem alien to you. You must look dumbfounded as she starts to use simpler terms. You watch Anakin as he rolls up his sleeves and opens your car’s engine, gesturing for you to come look. As you make your way over to the engine you really take in the whole garage. It's clearly very old, but still has a charm. Pinned posters half fall off the walls and the smell of car oil is overpowering. You can see that a main seating room is to the right of the work space, as well as a reception and hallways with what you suppose are offices. A few other mechanics stand in the corner by a table, sipping in their drinks. One catches your eye and lets out a low whistle.

You quickly move to Anakin and he yells something at the other man. “Ignore them, unless you like the attention, '' he grins. After Anakin tells you what he is going to need to do to Shelby he wipes his slightly greasy hands on his jeans and straightens up. “Do you need a ride home or do you want to walk in the rain?” He gestures to the outside, where in fact it has started raining. “I'll walk” you state, still not impressed by his overall attitude and demeanor. “It was rhetorical sweetheart, I'll drop you off, but you are gonna have to get a rental, not everyone is your personal taxi-driver” he sneers. You scoff at his comment, “I'd rather walk” you reply. You were getting sick of his talk.

He turns and jogs a few steps, disappearing behind a corner. I guess that's that then, you think to yourself. You thought too soon as he appeared again with a rather sad looking umbrella. “at least take this, then you will have to come back in at some point, your new fan-club would like it” he nods towards the group of mechanics in the corner, letting out a small laugh. You roll your eyes and take the umbrella from him. You utter a thanks and turn on your heel, making a beeline towards the door. “Leaving so soon?!” One of the mechanics calls out as you leave, you hear Anakin speak as you step outside into the downpour; “hey, leave her alone man”.

Your walk home is, well, rather depressing. The rain only gets heavier as you walk through puddles of water collecting in the uneven footpath. When you reach your apartment, you are completely soaked, the umbrella not really helping as the wind was pushing the rain on a diagonal. As you make your way to the kitchen where you seat down your bag before, going to your rooms to change into something dry. When you return you reach into your bag, retrieving some slightly soggy paperwork to complete. The 20 plus pages full of fine text stare back at you. It was going to be a long afternoon and probably night.

“Why are we going back again?” she says as Anakin stares straight ahead. “Because, snips, we are on a special mission” he tries to lighten the mood, but his body language says otherwise. “I can’t believe Palpatine is getting us to spy on them” Ahsoka grumbles. “We aren’t spying as such, we are just checking it out” He replies. “So spying”. Anakin rolls his eyes.

Pulling up to a parking spot, Ahsoka swings open the door hopping out. Anakin removes the keys and exits, they close their doors in unison, Over the few years Ahsoka had been Anakin 's apprentice they had formed a close bond, some would even comment on how they bicker like siblings. They had their ups and downs but overall got along very well, but the breaktime gossip sessions did help. The pair walk the few blocks to Sith Auto Dominion, slowing down significantly outside of the shop, trying to not make it obvious that they are looking so intently. It doesn’t work.

A woman walks out of the Shop; “Skywalker and his little friend” she sneers. “Asajj, you look lovely as ever” Anakin says. Asajj Ventress was a mechanic, and a good one at that. She was half the reason that MustaCar was bringing in low profit. Her skills were good, too good. The dathomirian placed her hands on her hips glaring at the pair, “this is the 2nd time I have seen you around here, why don’t you skitter back to your cute, little shop” She speaks the last part in a babying voice. Ahsoka lets out a loud huff at the comment. “That's not very welcoming, I thought we were friends Asajj” Anakin says, putting on a fake smile. “And here I thought my shift would be unpleasant” Ventress replies, “What is it you really want Anakin Skywalker?” She speaks his name with a tone of disgust. “Do I really need a reason to visit you?” Ventress raises her eyebrow before speaking “Run along, you are wasting my time, and my time equals money, something you aren’t familiar with”. Anakin 's expression flickers slightly, before he grins “Lovely as always, I will make sure to stop by more often” Anakin nods his head at Ahsoka and they turn to leave. Anakin looks back “And Ventress, that shirt really does your eyes wonders”.

[wandering-writing-waffles]

His Most Prized Possession

Rating: E for everyone

Word Count: 819

Relationships: Darth Maul x Reader

Tags/Warnings: Violence, Mentions of blood, implied romance, implied kidnapping

Notes: Hello there! So this is just a quick lil oneshot I wrote a while back but kind of want to make into a full-fledged fic???? Idk, I may continue this and may not. I would certainly like to! But hey! I hope you enjoy what I have so far!

Summary: Maul had only ever loved one thing in his life, and that was you... But one day when he came home and all he could find of you was a small trinket of yours lying dormant in the doorway, he knew there could only be one explanation... You had been taken... Taken right out from under his nose! Heart filled with a newfound rage, he vows to scour the galaxy looking for you wherever he can. He will do anything to get you back.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Maul felt the heat of the blade lightly graze the center of his chest. On a regular occasion, he wouldn’t have paid any mind. His body was littered with scars and scratches after all. Years of fighting for survival had left their mark in the form of nasty raised abrasions all across his body. But this… this was different. It wasn’t just his body that was at stake this time.

He lifted his hand up to examine the area at which the blade seethed his flesh and to his dismay, it was gone. All that was left in its place were burnt, broken tethers from where it once laid.

He quickly tilted his head back upwards, towards this so-called attacker whom he assumed was just some insignificant bounty hunter from some insignificant little planet looking for a quick and easy score. Oh was he mistaken…

Maul seethed at that thought, a newfound, burning rage beginning to build up in his core, ready to burst at any moment. ‘What a pathetic waste of time,’ he thought to himself.

The attacker went rigid. His eyes widened in a fearful stupor as he made contact with Maul’s piercing golden gaze. The sweat at his temple began to pool and drip down his now furrowed brow bone and Maul could see his hands and the pinprick tips of his blue lekku start to tremble.

Maul snarled in response, not feeling the slightest bit of empathy. As far as he was concerned, no one messed with his belongings and no one wastes his time.

Without hesitation, he leaped forward, eyes fixated on the young twi’lek who had unknowingly just sealed his fate.

The man jumped back in response, but it was too late. Lightsaber drawn, Maul slashed right at the center of his torso, effectively severing his cobalt body in half.

Maul’s senses were immediately filled with the smell of burning flesh, followed by a loud shriek and the sound of the assailant’s body plummeting against the floor. His breathing hitched in response, eyes trained on the man’s chest, making sure there was no longer breath in his body.

When he was certain he let out a scoff, quickly sheathing his lightsaber and turning around on the heel of his foot.

‘Where is it?!’ Maul internally cried. He began searching the area, desperate to find what had fallen. But the muck-stained floors of the alley were making it difficult to search. He became more desperate, removing his gloves and falling to his hands and knees to dig through the thick grime. He only found relief when he felt his fingers lightly brush against a small, cold object.

Quickly looping his finger around the base he pulled it out, taking care to brush off the dirt that it had picked up before resting the object in the palm of his hand.

There it was… His prize.

Maul smiled warmly down at the object as it gleamed against the dimmed light. His twin hearts rested, and he felt calm once more. For this trinket sitting in his hand wasn’t just any old thing. No… It was much more than that. It was a ring. But not just any ring. In fact, it didn't even belong to him. Its true owner, although indeed rare, was someone whom Maul had held and still holds in the highest regard…

For it belonged to you… His beloved… His whole world… His starlight…

Maul’s grip tightened as he held the gleaming ring in his hand, memories flooded his mind, a bittersweet reminder of his love for you who had been so cruelly taken from him. The ring symbolized your bond, a promise you had made to each other in happier times. It was a token of your unwavering devotion, an unbreakable vow etched into its delicate design.

Crafted from a metal found only in the deepest crevices of his homeworld, the ring radiated an otherworldly brilliance. Its intricate carvings depicted your intertwined destinies, your love story eternally etched into the precious metal.

To Maul, the ring represented hope in the darkest of times, a tangible connection to the one person who had breathed life into his scarred soul. Whenever he felt lost, his fingers would trace the contours of the ring, seeking solace in its presence. It was a symbol of his unwavering determination to find you and reunite with the one who had captured his hearts.

As he clenched the ring tightly, Maul's resolve solidified. Your trail… His beloved’s trail would not go cold. He would stop at nothing, traverse galaxies, and face any adversary to reclaim what had been stolen from him. With the ring as his guiding light, Maul embarked on a relentless quest, a love-driven odyssey to rescue you and restore your shattered bond.

For you, he would do anything. And that was what he was going to do.

Notes:

Thank you so much for the read! I know it was short but it means so much to me! Let me know if I should continue it and if you have any pointers for where it should go if I do! Thank you again! Chow!

-Waffles XOXO

[mydsign]

sevika + afab!fem , chubby reader. nsfw & sfw

since sev is such a well-muscled brute, she loves her girlfriends to be a little soft, a little different from herself.

sfw

never lets you smoke her cigar. you’re her baby, she’s never letting anything dangerous near you.

sits you on her lap when she’s playing cards. you’re her lucky charm, after all.

squishes your thighs all the time. doesnt matter when or where, her hand is gonna be on your thigh, groping and digging her fingertips into it.

this woman can manhandle you like you are nothing. lifts you up by your waist and slams you on the table, laughs at your surprise. the first time she does it, you’re accompanying her to her daily card game and after she (unsurprisingly) wins, she celebrates by placing you on the table and ravishing you.

“baby, c’mere.” is a go to for her. if she needs you, you’ll be there right at a snap of her fingers. if you’re feeling a bit bratty, she will stand up and drag you to where she needs you.

loves treating you like you’re her prized possession, which you most likely are. be prepared for eyes watching you everywhere, making sure you’re safe.

she’s possessive. if you need time alone? fine, but her boys are going to be trailing you every second of the day. if you want to go out with your friends? nahhhhh. you’re only hers. they can come here.

sweet when she needs to be, mean when she wants to be.

relationships with sev are gonna be a bit rocky, especially at the start. she only knows how to be aggressive!! it’s gonna take some time to get her to warm up to you.

nsfw

she is a domtop. none of the sub shit for her, she’d prefer to die.

pleasures you like there’s no tomorrow. fuck her pleasure! its all about you!

you turn into a pillow princess w her she’s that good. she doesn’t want you getting your hands dirty:( you’re her darling girl:(

turns you into a submissive mess, the only form of communication you will have is mindless babbles and squeals. she laughs at you, letting you cling onto her as your body bounces from her thrusts.

definitely uses a strap.

if you prefer a bigger one, trust me, she will be getting someone to adjust her average strap to make it up to your standards.

if you prefer a smaller size, she will have to go and buy a retractable strap for you. you’re her little doll, your comfort is her main priority.

lemme tell you; pet names are a must for her in bed. “babydoll, darl, etc.” you name it!!

marks!! marks!! marks!! hickeys upon hickeys on your neck, thighs, boobs, everywhere. you will wake up thinking you got mauled by a bear but it was just sevika.

she’s into boob play 100%. her big, calloused hands rubbing against your nipples, watching them get hard, she’s so into that.

tongues your cunt, makes your pussy drool. your thighs snap against her head as she murmurs against your cunt, whispering sweet nothings into your skin.

metal arm stays on during sex!! if you’re into softer stuff, it will stay grabbing onto your hips as she thrusts into you but if you’re into rougher stuff, she will grab your throat - hard enough that you splutter but not hard enough that you pass out.

she is the aftercare god. makes you tea, stays with you if you need, let’s you cry into her if you get yourself a bit worked up afterwards:( you’re just her little darling thing, she would do anything for you.

long story short, sevika is in love with you. she would kill anyone for you, devotes herself to your everything. you are her goddess and she is your worshipper.

[xamaxenta]

….. feral jungle beasts sabo and ace both decide to take Marco to pound town and Marco is very much interested EXCEPT! The phoenix has standards thank you very much! Not like doesn’t wanna violently make out with the dude who just ate a raw liver the blood taste would be a bonus but standard as in if you wanna mate the phoenix you gotta prove yourself as a worthy of it.

This surprises even Marco as halfway into letting himself be pinned to a bed by sabo and ace he instinctively flips out and goes crazy zoan on the two of them. Ace asks what that was because the resulting fight was fun but he was pretty sure Marco was into what was going down and Marco is all ??? I was very into it I’ve got no clue.

Never fear though. While it was never worth it to ace to maul a bird because they were never big enough to be worth dragging home to feed the baby (luffy) sabo sometimes liked raiding nests and knows what’s up. Cue the moby being horrified watching sabo and ace bring Marco dead bodies, raw meat of questionable origin, the crews stolen items, and frequently the struggling and beaten WBP crew themselves (to be released once Marco has seen how the two are able to beat potential ‘rivals’ so soundly). Everyone is terrified and confused and Marco is blisteringly horny

OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS like without warning or realisation Marco flips the fuck out full phoenix form, screeching, talons splayed, impressive wingspan that can and will snap humans into broken pieces swept impossibly wide,

The golden plumage burning an orange almost red hue because it senses a challenge, goads the creatures that want to mate it into a fight which Sabo accepts with a revolting sort of gusto, dragon soul, he will tear the phoenix limb from limb if thats what ir desires

Ace is a bit more hesitant because Marco hasnt ever responded like this but he knows a challenge when he sees one, its a creature aching to claw into them a desperation is present but not the cornered kind

And it was fun, shame about the bed though, Sabo forced Marco into a half bestial form part way with haki just so they could fold him in half and fuck him mid fight lol

Anyway das so cute lmao they have to bring offerings and gifts to please and impress their feathery partner, they fell sea kings and other horribly large critters of the grandline, sometimes its a game who can bring back the larger prize the Phoenix is very impressed and Marco has never been harder in his life

He does get them to apologise to the rival crewmates tho like youve made your point they dont mean any harm they know theyre no match

Ace sighs and goes off to make the rounds in the infirmary like no hard feelings fellas

Sabo meanwhile scoffs like theyre the ones that cant handle it, bc hes got a mean jealous streak a mile wide that only becomes more unhinged the more he thinks about other people that are not him and Ace pursuing Marco

[darklordofthesimp]

I need to go on a tangent about birdie and ghost relationship for sniper hyper fixation reasons! They are most and likely on soap levels of trust with ghost because when you have two snipers you're relying on the other to see what you cant at that moment ie. Sniper and spotter. Also there are shots that need and i cant stress this enough PERFECT communication. Like down to how many hairs on your head is blowing in the wind type communication.

And that requires a great deal of trust in each other to be able to pull those stunts of. An example would be a simultaneous double shot on one target. Both snipers have to pull the trigger at the EXACT same time. This move is typically used to bypass bullets proof armor if you didnt know now you do.

TLDR: Poor Konig man mauled the wrong person. You dont fuck with a sniper team

10000000%

It's the same as in the campaign for MW2, Prize and Gaz have an entire game sequence where its them both just taking down an entire compound from up to 400 metres away on a hill with snipers and ghillie suits.

There was a shit tonne of communication and you relied upon proce for target indications and directions. Ghost and Birdie have been on hundreds of missions together.

He relied on her expert marksmanship To make sure he didn't end up dead and it was a very humbling trust exercise for him to see how close he was to death so many times had it not been for Birdy watching his back.

In my two Ghost fics I've posted, Ghost has his very own sniper love interest (the reader of course). Their code name is Sunshine, and this concept will be explored between them regularly.

Also, Ghost has covered her position while she's taking shots. Literally just guarding her prone body from oncoming enemies.

That's why he's so fucking furious that König got to Birdy to begin with. Ghost has been the person to cover her so many times, it infuriates him that she had no one to watch her back the way that Birdy was watching all of theirs.

[agbpaints]

So one of the other local battletech players decided to bash together some rules for using salvage boxes to do a draft game that I participated in today. Everyone gets 2 blind boxes and picks a mech from one to keep and fight with, you get a BV limit of the highest BV standard/prime config to select a variant and pilot, and then you go last mech standing in an arena with a closing zone of engagement.

Anyway this is what I got to work with. Remember what I said about highest BV setting the ceiling for everyone else? Yeah I was the ceiling. Stone Rhino got pitched to the prize pile and I took a Night Gyr A onto the fight with me- I've got a lot of bad experiences fighting one of these things and it was time to be on the giving end of that engagement. My opponent's picked a Flashman 8K with a much improved pilot, a Marauder II 6D, and a Gargoyle D

I took a pretty bad beating at the start of the game- the Gargoyle and MAD II decided to gang up on me for their opening shots before the Garg pealed off to deal with the Flashman, leaving me with an angry 100 tons of IJJ enabled assault mech to deal with.

A couple of turns later, the Marauder decided it got tired of mauling me and overheating and retreated to flank the Gargoyle who'd been having an epic disco party with the Flashman. The Flashman went down two a three crit hit to the center torso and the Gargoyle and I managed to take out the Marauder on engine crits while I lost my side torso to an AC/20 det (praise CASE).

In the end it came down to me and the Marauder scrapping in the mud in midfield with me barely eking out a victory. Super close, tense game overall.

And so the spoils of war! I traded my Night Gyr for my opponent's Flashman, nabbed a Black Knight from the prize pile, and our extra prize box turned out the be a Sentinel. 3 decent commstar mechs plus $5 in store credit isn't too shabby a takeaway for a $20 entry fee!

[ohmygodshesinsane]

Winter Sun and Lantern Light

For @thegobletofweasleys Jily Week, August 1st - “In any universe I’d fight evil with you” AU.

Also for @jilymicrofics August Prompt 1 - Block.

Available on Ao3 or under the cut.

“No.” Lily gripped his arm, green eyes ablaze like Greek fire. “You halfwit fool! Do you long so for the block?” They crouched in the shadow of a fearsome holly bush, Lily with her hand bandaged and a sword on her belt, and James with a jagged tear through his jerkin, revealing his mauled shoulder. The weak winter sun faded quickly, but their pursuers’ lanterns glowed amongst the trees, bobbing as they searched.

James rubbed his neck. “I think you’ll find them hesitant to waste a perfectly good axe on a rabble-rouser.” Lily’s gaze sharpened.

“You think they won’t recognise the heir to Wessex? James.”

“Lily,” he said, taking her uninjured hand. “They seek rebels. If they have one in their grasp, they won’t think to look for a woman. Keep west to the Hog’s Head and speak to Aberforth. That was the plan.”

Lily folded her arms across her chest. “How is it fair that I should escape on account of my sex? Do you truly expect me to leave you for dead?” A lump welled in James’ throat. Every moment more he spent looking at her made the inevitable only more difficult.

“They will treat you abominably on account of your sex,” James said. “I forbid it.” In the distance, the pack of dogs barked furiously. Their master whistled. “Lily -”

“I won’t leave you,” she said, the rims of her eyes reddening. Her auburn hair shone like copper, vibrant against the waxen pallor of her face and the hollows in her cheeks. They had been running for three weeks since the rest of their Order had been devastated outside York. James laid a hand against her forehead.

“You need to get to Aberforth, and Pomfrey,” he urged. Lily laughed wetly.

“You say to me.” She pointed to his shoulder.

“I’ve not an infection,” he said bluntly.

The dogs’ barks drew nearer, and shouts drifted on the wind. Each blow of breeze made Lily shiver. It was imperative she escaped before nightfall. If he could delay them, she could be at the next village by dark and lodge for the night. James was prize enough, by birth and blood, and he would ensure they forgot all about the woman-knight they had thought sighted.

“Don’t,” Lily said. “Damn you, Potter, don’t. We go together or naught.”

“You must go west,” he said, bringing his hand to cup her cheek. Her flush of life was hot against him, her heartbeat jumping under her skin. He could not feel his own vitality. There was only a twist of grey slush where his breath ought to be. “You must go west and tell Aberforth of what has happened. You need your wounds seen to. For Harry.” With great pain, James moved his shoulder so that he could feel the swell of her stomach.  Their baby. Their boy, the witch had said. Their son. James’ bottom lip trembled. He fought it furiously.

“I hate you,” Lily said, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I loathe you, Potter.”

“Good,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Hate me forevermore. Run from me.”

“James,” she whimpered. The waters burst from his eyes.

“Go,” he said. “Lily, I have loved none other as you and I know in any life God would give me I could never conceive of another. You are my spirit. Let it live on. To Aberforth, and to Pomfrey, for Harry. That you and he may continue our work against the evils of this world.”

“I hate you,” she repeated, lifting her lips to his. Her kiss was slow and feverish. James tasted her for one last time, ignoring his every instinct. How could he have loved her so long and only had her so little in the end?

But there were greater things than his desires now.

They had their babe.

“Be good and steadfast,” he whispered. “Love well, Lily, and love again if that is where you are led. Tell him of me someday, when it will not endanger you both, if that day does come. Pray for my soul.”

“If I should lay eyes upon that bastard again,” Lily said, “I will kill him. I will not need a sword to do it.”

“If I should entrust anyone with regicide, it would be you, my love.” And James took in her face. He had not known when he had first looked upon it what would come. He could not bring himself to regret a moment of it. “Go.”

Lily sobbed and gave him a furious glare. “Go and die, then, you bastard wretch.”

James smiled. “I always intended on it, at some time or another.” Lily shut her eyes as she gathered up her skirts. Beneath the lanterns came the shadowed shapes of men. James had imagined some sense of preservation would fill him about now, that the force of his life would rush through him and send him running. “Go.”

“Try not to, next time,” she said, pulling in a deep breath.

“Not to die?”

“Just try,” she insisted. “Meet Harry.”

“If God so wills it,” James said. “In the next life, Lily. But fight for this one.”

“They’ve got the scent!” one hunter shouted. “Here!”

Lily’s lips tightened, and she crept around the bush of holly and ran for her life and out of his.

I love you.

He had not thought to say it.

[tigerspite]

If you couldn't tell already, these two are getting flung around my mental washing machine at frightening speeds.

Read the rest of The Devil's Claw here

Previous chapter

-

CHAPTER ?? / The Forbidden

House Kings does not know how to deal with a human of remarkable talent amongst the ranks of Devil warriors.

House Devils themselves hardly knows, either.

Wethraks notes that Yami's presence in the Kell Guard and association with its most esteemed inner circle destabilises loyal bonds. Allowing a thief of the Great Machine in the halls of the Devils' Lair stirs Barons into action. They question Ursaviks's sanity and authority, and promise to maul his precious weapon, or make an example of everyone involved if they cannot do that. House Devils is capable of defending itself without the need for interference from another species, they believe. Doing so implies weakness, and a failure of their own warriors, which means their leaders are worthless. If one human can replace entire crews worth of Devils, the sacrifice of Eliksni lives and the deaths of those who built London upon its new foundations is unnecessary.

The first few, Ursaviks docks for insubordination, and strips them of their statuses. The rest, the smarter ones who know to let the foolish younger Eliksni take the fall before making their stand, he regards as amusements. Every single one of them is laughed out of the Lair. He waves them away with a suggestion to look at the results before making such bold accusations and statements.

None of them realise that, for the most part, Yami is the prized pet of the Kell Guard.

They name him 'Lodask' for his ferocity on the battlefield. An ancient word from home-Riis, equating him to a vicious, six-legged creature that Wethraks has only heard described by Elders. A predator that would steal away hatchlings from shorelines, lurking in the shallows to drag even unsuspecting adults to their watery demise. Intercepted comms from Kings raiding parties prove that he strikes the same primal fear into their minds.

Outside of combat, his existence is accepted to varying degrees. Having the courage to fight for a people who are not his own wins favour with the coldest of hearts, and others find him a curiosity. Some of the trappers make friends with him and ask to be taught about his culture and the way of life he left behind. Others take him on tours of the city - which really means pub crawls - or ask him about the artefacts found in the salvage markets. On occasion, they ask to be taught human games and activities. 'Throwing-football' is a particular favourite, and the primary cause to blame for most recent injuries in their ranks. It is very different to 'kicking-football', which teeters on the edge of being banned on the grounds of the Lair for entirely different reasons that Wethraks does not understand the extent of.

Supposedly, he has even endeared himself to his neighbour, Taniks. The latter speaks no English, and the former gets by with an ever-increasing grasp of Eliksni, but they find alternative ways to understand each other. The target propped at the end of their shared hallway, and the axes and arrows sticking out of it, says everything Wethraks needs to know.

As his charge learns the ways of the Devils so he can do as Ursaviks ordered and leave his humanity behind, less complaints about his presence filter back. Or if they are made, they are quieter. Subtler.

What none of them see, however, is Lodask's guilt and regret.

One night, he finds himself knocking on Lodask's door. The man disappeared after a skirmish, and rumours from the Guard swirl wildly as to why. Apparently, someone watched him tear the arm off a Kings Captain and beat her senseless with it, stabbed her in the eye with an arrow from his quiver, and then slit her throat with the same arrowrtip. While it does not seem out of the realm of possibility, his newfound crewmates tend to speak highly of him in defence of his honour, as if they collectively still have something to prove.

There is a moment of hesitation, a slight delay before the door cracks open and Lodask peers through the gap. The haunted look on his face is both unnerving and worrying, and confirms his fears.

"Is something wrong?" he asks.

"I heard what happened," Wethraks does not mince his words. Yet from there, his confidence scatters. "Is…can I come in?"

"Uh…yeah, sure." Stepping aside, Lodask allows him to squeeze into the narrow hall and into his relatively unfurnished apartment. The single lamp light on is dim, and he manages to step over the discarded armor and weaponry on the floor before he can trip over it. Despite the shelving and storage available, few things in his home are kept in a designated space.

From there, he doesn't inquire further. Instead, he watches as Lodask sinks into the couch, and wonders why he never realised that he is just as small and fragile as every other human.

When he finally speaks after several seconds of silence, his tone is flat, and he rubs at his face. Something in the action speaks of vulnerability. Expert though he is at hiding his emotions, his body language almost always gives him away.

"I lost control." he murmurs.

Wethraks's hearts sink to hear the speculation confirmed. "Are you injured?"

"No, no." The denial is instant. As always. It would be of no surprise to learn that he is hiding grevious wounds but is too fearful to admit it, as he has done before.

"I can look, if you're worried about infection-"

"No, I'm not hurt," he insists, shoulders slumping. "I just can't keep doing this. I said I was done, I was meant to start over. I told Ursaviks I didn't want to hurt anyone. But how many Kings has he made me kill?"

In place of answer, Wethraks sighs through his nose and lowers himself to sit. At his friend's side, he spots a dark purple blotch of dried blood stuck in his hair. If there is one thing they have both discovered, it is that Eliksni blood clings to human skin and hair like thick oil. Once the sheen of Ether evaporates off, it leaves behind a residue reminder of his sins until days worth of scrubbing and picking remove it.

"He trapped me. I walked straight into it." Lodask almost growls with self-hatred, lowering his head and shaking it.

Wethraks lets a purr rumble in his throat, thin yet steady. Nothing else he can say or do will soothe him. Any offer of comfort would only send him spiralling further. Sitting within his personal space and being present, listening, not pushing at any boundaries, is as much as he will allow. Even the privilege of being able to hear him express his concerns is a high honour. One day, he is sure he will be able to rest a hand on his arm, embrace him, or invite him to the warmth of his own home and nest as night-family so that he does not have to bear his burdens alone. But that day is many years away, distant behind impenetrable emotional walls.

In the quiet, he thinks. A way forward has to be available. Lodask cannot suffer forever. Treating him as a weapon of mass destruction, absent of his own agency. Is unsustainable. London is supposed to be not solely a safe refuge where he can recover and rebuild his life, but a home too, with Eliksni who would care for him as if he had lived among them his entire life. Beholden to Ursaviks he may be, his mate would also not want him to feel so miserable. However, all four of his hands are tied. Allowing him any further concessions may prove disastrous when his ultimate goal is to transform a human into an Eliksni.

Although within those boundaries, one option remains. An unpopular one that risks rejection at the first hurdle, and tone-deaf in the face of their present situation. But it is better to share his thoughts and plant the idea in his mind than leave his friend to fester, unaware of an escape route.

"Why don't you go to Proving?" Wethraks suggests.

Lodask glances upwards from his hunched position, eyebrows raised in bone-tired, exasperated, disbelief. The mere implication of fighting for his honour and position seems to age him another twenty years before his very eyes.

"Ursaviks is Kell, but because he took charge of you, he's also the leader of your crew," he attempts to explain, pausing to ensure that the translated distinction is correct. Why English has so many words for types of leaders, he fears he may never know. *If you can campaign to him to enter the next Proving and defeat any challengers, you'd earn your freedom. With the life-debts you've accrued, you'd become a Captain or a Baron."

"Did you do that?"

"Well- no," Wethraks stumbles over his words before recovering. "Being Kell's Mate means I don't have to do anything. But it's what I would've done if I hadn't joined with the Lair." Excluding that he would have been eviscerated as soon as he stepped on to the field, with his history of fleeing from battle, seems sensible.

"Isn't it a fight to the death?" he asks, incredulous.

"They happen, yes, but that's usually someone trying to prove a point."

"How many Devils have a point to prove about me?"

He opens his mouth to assure that not many would try, then catches on to his point. Some way or another, it seems the entire city knows of his existence. While most simply cross the street to avoid him or turn their backs when he approaches, the disgraced once-Barons could band together and enter themselves into the same competition pools in order to regain their reputation when they hear of his campaign. Let alone who they could rally behind their cause to fight and kill on their behalf. Or the sheer number of Devils who would want to watch the battles. If he were to fall, it would be a public embarrassment of the highest order.

Beyond that, though, it would mean he is never accepted. Determined to drift and not once find the stability he so terribly needs. He could leave and find refuge in another House, or with a band of exiles, but it would lead to more of the same. Fighting for survival first, and to justify his place in an uncaring world second.

He cannot betray him like that.

Clutching at the last few desperate straws of optimism he has, he answers, "I wouldn't worry about them. Ursaviks likes you too much. So do the rest of the Guard. They wouldn't let anything happen."

Lodask sighs and slumps back into his seat, arms folded. "I guess."

Sensing that he does not believe him, he clicks his mandibles to make his friend meet his gaze. When his attention turns to look at him, Wethraks touches a hand to his own chest, over his hearts. "I won't let anything happen."

The briefest flicker of a genuine emotion passes over his friend's face. Unable to read it, and with no immediate reaction other than his usual guarded stare, Wethraks's insides writhe. Perhaps the gesture was too intimate. Too honest. For all the time they spend together, it is as far as he has ever pushed. With so many barriers in the way, it is difficult to tell where their friendship stands on the best of days.

But before the awkwardness can set in and force him to take it back, a faint smile ghosts across Lodask's lips.

"I know."