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bunnysbrainrot · 7 months

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Sinners - Teaser

Relationship: Sam Winchester x Reader

Content: Explicit sexual content, teasing, more kinks and details to come with the full version, nothing too warning-worthy right now?

Summary: Disguised as a priest and nun on a case, time alone with Sam back at your motel is everything but holy. The taboo of your situation has Sam dealing with some… impure thoughts. Will Sam be able to contain himself?

In the past few weeks you and the Winchesters uncovered some suspicious deaths in a remote area of Georgia. The locations of the tragedies spanned over 50 miles apart, meaning that the team had to split up to cover more ground. Dean had split from you and Sam two days ago, and the night before in the motel had been fairly normal. It seemed like Dean did this on purpose; you had drunkenly admitted to him of your affection for his younger brother.

Whether or not Sam knew of this, you had no clue. And now in your nun getup, it was all too fitting that you began to pray that Sam was unaware. The two of you calmly made your way past the yellow police tape, preparing warm smiles for a victim’s family.

Sam knocked on the door, letting out a bated breath. Weren’t nuns supposed to dress modestly? Your outfit was the proper attire, but the way it hugged your curves left too much to Sam’s imagination. It was his turn to pray that it didn’t stir too much in him, to let him keep his composure.

An older man answered the door, his expression easing at the sight of your attire. Turns out this costume was better received than you thought. You had to channel your tone and proper verbiage before speaking.

“Apologies for showing up unannounced, Mr. Peters. I’m Father Jeremy, and this is our sister from a local church.” Sam waved a hand for you to introduce yourself.

You chose to use your name, seeing that this was your first nun-appearance.

“We’re here on behalf of the church to offer support for your family, but we also have a couple of questions, if you don’t mind.”

Hopefully there were no questions about the nearest Catholic church, otherwise this whole façade would crumble. Mr. Peters’ face only softened further.

“I’m glad you’re here, Father, Sister,” he addressed you with a sad smile, “Please, come in.”

Sam stepped in first, using a beckoning finger behind him to have you follow him. The house was modest, but eloquently decorated. You recalled the murder that had happened, that brought you to this town, and shuddered. Mr. Peters’ daughter had been brutally murdered and discarded in a creek, signs indicating the presence of a vampire. Their daughter had been missing for two weeks before the time of death, which is what you and Sam aimed to discover.

“Mr. Peters, we are part of a youth outreach program at the church. Our aim is to help troubled youth, with restorative services and social connection. We were wondering if your daughter had any odd behaviors before she went missing. Perhaps she became more secluded?”

The man looked confused at first, “Odd behavior?”

Sam gave a small nod, “We notice that teenagers in need of help oftentimes become more distant with their families. Our goal is to provide better services to our youth, which does include finding the source issue.”

Mr. Peters have a small background of his daughter, admitting that she had become distant with the family. Not just that, but her anger had only worsened, amongst several harmful habits. It wasn’t uncommon for teens to become immersed in the occult and all things dark, but being surrounded by the wrong people can lead to harmful connections.

“I see,” Sam started, “and do you know what kind of people she was surrounding herself with?”

Another confused look from Mr. Peters.

You added, “This way, we’re able to identify warning signs - things to be wary of as our youth members meet new people.”

This seemed to clear things up, bringing out a detailed recount of his daughter’s recent social group. But, their social media had been recently deleted, preventing the family from getting their closure. As far as they knew, their daughter had made new friends, ran from home, and was found brutally murdered.

Sam’s eyes darted to you when you shifted in your seat, the fabric of your black dress sliding gracefully along your thighs. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but seeing you dressed up like this sent his mind spinning. The last thing he should be thinking of is taking you dressed like this, but he couldn’t shake it. His mind raced of scenarios the two of you could create, each one dirtier than the last.

But right now, the task at hand was covering the tightness of his pants. He leaned forward, the broad muscles of his arms flexing beneath his black shirt. Blush creeped onto your cheeks, much to the attention of Mr. Peters, who looked at you with concern.

“Sister, are you feeling alright?”

You nodded and gave a small wave, “Oh, I’m fine. Just a little warm is all. I apologize.”

Mr. Peters stood, “No need to apologize, let me get you some cold water. I’ll only be one moment.”

The room had gone oddly quiet paired with Sam’s intent stare at your face. You turned to find a concerned Sam inspecting you fully.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked softly.

A slight nod, “Yeah, it’s just stuffy in this outfit.”

“Well, once we’re back at the motel we can get you out of it.”

A beat later Sam realized how that sounded. He tried to backtrack, but Mr. Peters had already returned with your glass of water, which you gratefully sipped on. It took everything in your power to resist the images that came to mind. Sam’s hands roaming your body, stripping that baggy dress off of your body, his mouth finding every nook and cranny of your neck.

Sam seemed to have taken over the conversation for the last few moments before standing. Mr. Peters had already given a short list of his daughter’s friends, and their usual hang-out spots. Your attention snapped back to reality; you placed the water glass down with a small thank you, being pulled up by Sam.

His hand could practically wrap the entirety of your arm, his grip stable and warm. Goosebumps rose on your arms, brushing against the tough fabric of your dress. The air outside carried the comfort of fall, the breeze being cool and refreshing on your hot cheeks.

At the car, Sam reached for your door to open it for you, something completely new to the both of you. You glanced up at him with wide eyes. The movements he made to reach the handle had pulled your bodies dangerously close, fully brush against his chest, pressed into the car. A inexplicable scenario that would raise a few eyebrows, for certain.

“Sorry, I just didn’t want you to trip on your dress,” breathed Sam.

Honestly, he was thankful for the little slip up - being this close to you had been a wish of his, but there had never been any excuse for it to happen. Your focus shifted from his soft, hazel eyes down to his parted lips. Sam’s attention shifted to your lips, lowering to your chest for a split second. A selfish move on his part, but the damage had already been done.

Your hand fumbled for the door handle, fingers sliding over his own. The two of you shared another longing glance before getting you into the car. Sam tucked in loose bits of your dress so the door wouldn’t snag on them.

“Alright, hands and feet it, watch out,” he whispered. You noticed how his hands fumbled more than usual, surely due to the nerves. Perhaps you had been reading this wrong, maybe you had taken things too far? Maybe you had overstepped and embarrassed him?

“Thank you,” you replied, giving him a genuine smile. Sam’s cheeks flushed, unmistakably a sign that maybe your anxieties been just that. Simple anxieties from overthinking this whole thing.

Now settled in the car, the two of you made the trip back to the motel. After stepping inside you beelined for the bathroom.

At least, until Sam’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Hey, could I talk to you about something?”

You turned to face him, eyebrows raised. You’d be lying to yourself if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat.

“What’s up?”

With the silence in the room, you took the cue to sit on the bed. Sam towered in comparison, his lean physique defined by the lamplight.

His voice softened, “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to get that close, I-“

“Sam, it’s okay,” you cut him off with a laugh, “don’t worry about it. I wasn’t bothered by it.”

He relaxed his shoulders. Sam began to dig through his bag for another set of clothes.

“You look good as a priest, by the way. You sell the bit nicely,” you stated.

What you said made his heart skip a beat. Was that a compliment, or just conversation? Sam couldn’t tell, so he turned to you once more with a goofy grin on his face.

“Thanks,” his expression darkened as his eyes raked you over, “You look good as a nun.”

There was no mistaking it - he was taking his time looking over you. Your breath hitched in your throat when he turned, leaned casually against the desk your bags laid on. You transfixed on the way his hands moved around his belt buckle. Mildly fiddling, but you couldn’t help but imagine him following through.

“Not my best outfit, but thank you,” you replied. Sam pushed away from the desk, slowly stepping toward the bed where you sat, tense with every step.

“I would agree there, you’ve worn better,” he commented.

You head snapped up to meet his eyes. A surprise note of flirtation filled your voice.

“Okay, so what’s my best outfit, then?”

He scoffed, “We playing twenty questions?”

You pointed to your outfits, smirking proudly at him, “Look at our getup, man, it’s like a confessional.”

A bright laugh came out of Sam; he tilted his head back as he thought.

“My answer isn’t exactly… appropriate.”

“Sam,” you laughed, “Confessional. You gotta tell me.”

He let out a groan before lowering his head, steadily giving you his answer, “Your dark jeans, and that long sleeve shirt. The, um… the one with the v-neck, you wore it almost every day over winter.”

“And that was inappropriate?”

“It’s why I like it that’s inappropriate.”

“Okay, then, why do you like it?”

The last thing you expected was for Sam to close the distance. He stepped until he was directly ahead, arms crossed over his chest as he locked eyes with you.

“It made your ass look nice.”

His tone was surprisingly serious, like he had been thinking of this answer for a while.

“Hugs your body in the right ways. And it makes your, well, chest… look nice.”

Sam humored your shocked expression but pushing things further. If you could dish it out, he could dish it back.

“What’s my best outfit?”

As you collected yourself, Sam stepped closer, bringing a hand to your cheek. He lifted your head, his thumb grazing over your cheek.

“It’s a confessional. You have to tell me,” he joked, earning a slight glare from you. That sour face melted away when Sam placed his hand beneath your chin. He tilted your head back to have you look at him.

Shit.

“Jeans,” you breathed, “V-neck black shirt.”

Sam leaned in, brushing his lips across your cheek. The closeness set your skin ablaze, each trailing lip and finger sending shivers up your spine.

“Is that all?” Sam whispered.

His eyes met yours once again, a startling seriousness lurking inside. You pushed past the shyness of your answer. The honesty could break the tension that had building all this time.

“Pajama pants… no shirt. When you just get out of the shower.”

Sam’s lips curled into a satisfied smile before planting a slow kiss to your cheek. He moved gradually to your jawline, sprinkling chaste kisses until his lips hovered over yours.

“Have you wanted this?” he asked.

Your frustration was intangible - a bottle that had been shaken too much, and ready to blow. He was centimeters, millimeters away from giving you what you’d truly wanted. The silence between you signified the utter defiance to give him this so easily.

“Confessional,” Sam’s voice reverberated against you, but he offered nothing to your pleading lips, “tell me, little nun, have you thought about this? Wanted my lips on yours?”

A small whine escaped you as Sam’s hand lowered to your throat, pressing softly to the tender flesh. The loss of blood flow muddled your thoughts into complete ecstasy, with no urgency to regain control. With just one move, it was clear to Sam that you were undoubtedly his.

You gave him a small nod. A low growl thundered in his chest before pressing into you further, laying you flat on the bed. Locks of chestnut hair framed your face, with a breathy Sam hovering his mouth over your neck.

“Nodding doesn’t count. You gotta use your words, sweetheart.”

Amidst the constriction on your throat you nodded and choked out a small, "Yes."

Sam's growing smile is all you need to know you've satisfied something deeper within him. Darkness floods his eyes seeing you like this, utterly at his will under his touch. If he'd known sooner that this would be the outcome, he'd have bought that nun outfit ages ago.

"That's better," he whispered.

------

Hi everyone! I know it's just a teaser for now, but I wanted to show you something I've been working on! I've also been pretty busy with work and writing for my book series, so things have been a bit busy for sure haha

I love you all, and I keep an eye out for the full version of Sinners!

#supernatural #spn fandom #supernatural smut #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #bunny writes #spn smut #smut writing #smut

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writtenbymoonflower · 8 months

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Shaken Soda

You have therapy and Remus is too kind. Remus Lupin x fem!reader. mondern!au

cw: mentions of therapy/mental health issues. Slight mention of unintentional self injury.

780 words

“Thank you, see you next week.” You muttered politely, exiting the small visiting room.

“See you then.” Your therapist smiled warmly at you. You appreciated the gesture, but wrapped your arms around your middle protectively anyway.

"Bye." The word was just barely a whisper as you turned to walk down the hall, but you were interrupted.

“Oh by the way, we covered a lot today. I’m proud of you, Y/N. Just, make sure to look after yourself extra.” They gave another polite nod and skirted back into their office. You gave a tight-lipped smile at the now closed door before walking down the hall to the waiting area, dreading the walk home in the pouring rain and shivering cold. You pulled the hood of your coat over your head before checking your phone, stalling.

Hey, dovey. It’s pretty nasty out so I’m going to come pick you up. Be there when you get out. x

You were equal parts grateful and distressed. Happy you wouldn’t be soaked down to your bones, but worried about your boyfriend seeing you in such a raw state. You checked the mirror by the entryway, wiping away mascara residue and pressing your cold hands to your cheeks in a desperate attempt to reduce the redness splotching over your eyes and nose.

Though Remus would likely see through any attempts at sweeping your struggles under the rug, he was far more perceptive than anyone gave him credit for.

You listened to the ding of the bell as you swung the door open, walking under the awning to where Remus’ black car was parked. You opened the door, being hit with a wave of toasty AC.

“Hi lovely.” His amber eyes greeted you with their usual warmth. (Warmth that was pretty much reserved for you).

“Hey Remmy.” You said, much to quiet and reserved for his liking, leaning over the center console to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for the spin. You didn’t have to drive in the rain.” Your comment earned an eye roll from Remus, though he was still smiling as he pulled out onto the road.

“Don’t. I get to spend extra time with you, and I’ll never complain about that.” He placed a large hand on your thigh, gently kneading the flesh there. “Almost forgot,” He reached into the cupholder. “Got this for you.” You were handed a to-go cup full of coffee. Your favorite. You swore you could sob all over again.

“Rem… You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. Anyway it wasn’t completely selfless, I was craving a fog.” You still looked at him all glossy and doe eyed.

“Thank you.” Your voice was so small. It was only when he looked over at you that he noticed your swollen features and red-rimmed eyes. He could swear there were burns on your cheeks from the scratchy material of your sleeves after being rubbed and wiped raw and cruelly.

“You doin’ okay, sweet girl?” He tried hard to keep his eyes on the road and stop a notch of concern from appearing between his dark eyebrows, knowing it would only push you more into your shell.

“Yeah, ‘m okay.” You picked at your nails. Remus took a deep breath.

“I’m not gonna make you talk about it,” He started and you tried to keep from wincing. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him or didn’t want to tell him what you had discussed, the emotions it brought up, but you knew that when you cracked the lid on your frayed feelings, everything would come out all at once. Tears, murmured fears and all. You were like a pop bottle that had been violently shaken, one wrong move and a mess would be everywhere. “But I want you to know I’m proud of you.” He checked the road around him before making brief eye contact with you. “Really, really proud. I know it can be scary. But also, please know, I’m here if you every need to talk about anythin’. I’ve got you, sweet girl.”

You nodded as he turned onto your street. You were still feeling raw, but you could feel it subsiding, just by being in his presence. “I know you do.” You looked over at him as he pulled up to your place and put the car in park. It didn’t take many long for you to unclick your seatbelt, leaning over your drinks and wrapping your arms around his shoulders tightly. Remus stiffened in surprise, but then hugged you back, smoothing his hands up and down your thick coat. “Thank you.” You whispered into his neck.

“It’s what I’m here for, lovely. I’m always gonna be here.”

#drabble #marauders #marauders fanfiction #fluff #marauders era #marauders fandom #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin #hurt/comfort #remus lupin hurt/comfort #moony #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin blurb

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2baabbies · 8 months

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🖤 Obsessed (Hyunjin x Reader) 🖤

Pairings: established relationship hyunjin x reader

Words: 3800

Summary: Hyunjin’s jealous streak ends with you finding him in a compromising position. AKA: in your bed, masturbating while wearing your shirt.

(somewhat inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s song by the same name; quote at the beginning also from this song)

Fluff + Smut + Humour

afab + fem!reader

CWs: jealousy (but make it cute and silly), reader is trying to make hyunjin jealous but only because it makes them both horny (and he’s a drama queen), he’s only a bit insecure, the point of contention is a big shirt but reader’s weight is not described (aka this fic is not limited to any one body size), reader and hyunjin have exes, reader lets hyunjin make assumptions that she teases him about later

Smut Tags: lots of teasing!!, (subtle) subby!hyune x dom!reader, intercourse (peanits in vagina), safe sex/use of condom, a bit of rough sex/uncomfortable position, reader has a kink for hyunjin’s desperation, begging, hair pulling, overstim, slight dumbification of reader, slightly pervy!hyune (smelling your clothes), hyunjin masturbates in your shirt (described in detail), little bit of voyeurism, bit of cum eating

!!ATTENTION!!

Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!

Likes, reblogs, asks and comments are very welcome and appreciated <3

~~~

‘And I know you love me, and I know it's crazy

But every time you call my name, I think you mistake me for her

You both have moved on, you don't even talk

But I can't help it, I got issues, I can't help it, baby’

It takes Hyunjin’s brain a second to register that something is wrong, and a second after that to actually take a look at himself and attempt to decipher what feels so off. He is still buffering when you return to your bedroom. You giggle at his bedhead and the cute expression on his face as he grabs the hem of his shirt and holds it up. He thought he had grabbed his white tshirt off the floor, and in his morning daze he had actually grabbed one of yours that you were too lazy to throw in the morning laundry. The graphic tee is far too big on him, even hanging off his shoulder, but you get a good look at the boxers he pulled on seconds before thanks to his hands lifting it up above his stomach. He drops the material and it falls down over his lap, unfortunately covering his soft tummy and pale thighs. He looks up then blinks away his sleep as you enter with a basket of clean laundry. You hold up his shirt and you giggle again at his sleepy smile.

“Looking for this?”

He nods and watches you drop the basket on the bed. You pull each freshly washed garment out for him and he shuffles over to loop his arms around your waist from behind.

“You let me sleep in…”

“You wouldn’t get up, sleeping beauty.”

He huffs and pecks the nape of your neck.

“You didn’t try hard enough…”

“Mhm, sure. You look cute in that.”

You admire him over your shoulder as he leans back and plucks the baggy fabric between his fingers.

“It doesn’t fit me…”

“I think that’s where the cuteness comes in.”

“I’m always cute…”

“That… I don’t disagree with that.”

He chuckles and turns you around so he can properly embrace you. You smile at him and nudge your noses together with a fond smile. He hums and nuzzles back gently, drawing your body tight to his with a content sigh.

“It’s so cozy… How come I hardly see you wearing it?”

You fail to realize at first that he is back to talking about the shirt, and take a moment of silence to contemplate his question.

“I wear it all the time. I think it’s just always dirty, I try to put something cleaner on when I know you’re coming over.”

You both laugh at your honesty.

“It’s really soft.”

“Well, I’d offer to buy you one but I don’t know where it came from.”

“What do you mean?”

“Someone left it over a while ago…”

You do not regret the words when they leave your mouth, but you can do little to fight your smirk as Hyunjin’s lips draw into a tight line. He then purses his lips and puffs his cheeks in a dramatic pout.

“Who?”

“Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. Tell me who.”

You roll your eyes. Hyunjin was privy to the history of all your exes, situationships, and sexual escapades. You knew about his too. It had been relieving to be able to talk so candidly about your experiences with him, and it definitely allowed the two of you to become close early on in your relationship. There was something therapeutic about snuggling with your lover and bitching about the ones that let you down.

It did not, however, curb Hyunjin’s jealousy in the slightest. He knew their names, how long you were together, if you still talked, he even knew where some of them lived and worked. It would be alarming if you had not both offered all that information to each other willingly. And you knew, ultimately, Hyunjin would never restrict you from having a friendship with any of the exes you still talked to. Although you would never admit it, you treated his jealousy as a testament of his love. He only cared so much because he cared about you. Besides, it was a natural emotion, and the fact that he was willing to be so emotionally available did more for you than anything your exes ever did.

“We don’t even talk anymore, Hyune. I don’t think she’s even in this country.”

“She. She. Oh god, I know who it is.”

“No, you don’t-”

He falls out of your arms and to the bed with a heavy thud, wailing incoherently as you observe his theatrics.

“She’s the worst!”

“Well, that’s why we’re not friends anymore…”

He suddenly thrashes and tears the shirt off with an animalistic grunt. You cock your eyebrow up and watch him roll around in vain when it gets stuck on his chin. He manages to pull it off and whips it at the floor, breathless after his performance.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“I can’t believe you let me wear her shirt.”

You scoff.

“Firstly, you’re the one that put it on. Secondly, it’s my shirt. She left it. Finders keepers.”

“I feel dirty.”

“You’re fine. And overreacting.”

You kneel on the edge of the bed and crawl up so you are sitting in his lap. He huffs and looks at you with a miserable expression.

“Why did you keep her shirt?”

“Because it’s a nice shirt, and I like it.”

“Get rid of it.”

“I will not. But, I’ll wear it less if that makes you feel better.”

“No. It doesn’t.”

You giggle.

“You’re being silly, Hyune.”

He looks away pointedly and you guide him back to face you by gripping his jaw. He swallows thickly as you, slowly, lean in to hover your face over his. You feel his shuddery breath on your lips, and bite down seductively to muffle the satisfied hum you release when you feel him hardening beneath you. He glares and scrunches his face with faux distaste as you dance your fingers up his stomach, then graze your thumb over one of his nipples. He shivers and finally lets the act drop, his annoyance melting into arousal as you peck shyly at his lips.

“Hyune,” You purr, “It’s okay if you’re jealous.”

“I-I know…”

You reward his cooperation with a teasing lick into his mouth, and carefully circle his nipple with light pressure. He whines and bucks up against you.

“You know how special you are to me. I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too,” He whimpers.

You respond with a sultry chuckle and begin stripping off your clothes.

There was a part of you that adored Hyunjin’s jealousy. It made him whiny, and needier for your affection. You would deny it vehemently if he ever called you out on it, but his desperation for your validation could have you dripping in seconds. So, it was a bit of a game between you. For the majority of the following week, Hyunjin would pretend he was unbothered when he saw you wearing that shirt. In turn, you would pretend that you were accidentally choosing it over all your other pajama options. While it may have been a bit unfair- or even mean- on your part to watch him squirm and stifle his complaints each time you pulled it on, it did not weigh on your conscience. You love each other; you trust he will let you know when his limit has been met.

And he does.

“Take it off.”

“Ha-ah,” Your eyes roll as you mumble back, “Hn?”

Your mind is fuzzy. Hyunjin has your ankles hooked over his shoulders and his cock pressed deep inside you. Your arms are limp above your head, fists clenching in the pillow supporting you. You tilt your head back with a moan as his hips rock against the back of your thighs in a steady rhythm.

“Baby, take it off, please.”

His fingers are curled in the hem of the white shirt, lifting it up as he ruts himself into your warmth. You huff out a laugh and tilt your head back to face him. You moan as you take in his heady groans and pleading eyes. His plump lips are parted to exhale a whine and his cheeks are impossibly flushed. You clench when he makes another pathetic noise and shoves his face into your neck. You smirk as your shirt gets rucked up to your breasts.

“I-I’m cold, Hyune.”

“Please. Please, please, please.”

He draws back and now you whine as his movements falter.

“Hyunjin?”

He raises his head and pouts, eyes teary as he looks at you. You shudder, feeling your heat gush at the sight. You are teetering on the edge of an orgasm, and your mind is scrambled with the intent to chase that high. You roll your hips and he gives a shaky thrust in return.

“Don’t make me beg, darling. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Mhm! M’okay, take it- take it off, Hyune.”

His touch is deft as you lift your arms and he slips the shirt over your head. He throws it behind him, then draws a gasp from you when he repositions himself above you. Your mouth is agape in pleasure when he starts thrusting again, legs folded to your chest as he plows you into the mattress. You are thankful for the pillow, otherwise your head would be banging against the headboard. His tip almost kisses your cervix and you let out a breathless wail as humps into you, following each precise thrust with steadily rising groans. You reach up to thread your fingers in his hair and bring him in for a kiss. Your toes curl as his body melts into yours, and you finally reach your climax. You share more consuming kisses as he fucks you through your orgasm.

Hyunjin is soon following you, getting sloppier in his movements as his pleasure increases. He leans away, just enough to let you catch your breath. Your legs are trembling from the strain, and now from the overstimulation of his cock filling your fluttering cunt. He shakes his head when stray hairs stick to his skin and fall into his eyes, and you lovingly tuck each one out of the way.

“Hyune…”

“G-Good?”

“Mhm,” You nod and quiver, “M’good. Can’t think.”

He laughs and leans down to peck your lips. For a moment it looks like he has a quip lined up, but he just snuggles his head into your chest and lets out a ruined moan. You giggle as his thrusts stutter, then he lazily rolls his hips into you with a relieved hum. You let him ride out his release, kissing the crown of his head and playing with his hair as he lets out little moans and sighs of pleasure. When he finally stills, you reach between your bodies and gently push on his chest.

“Ah-ahn…”

“Hyune, you’re squishing me.”

“Hah, sorry.”

He groggily rises and lets your legs fall out of their tense position. You help him slip off the condom and discard it in the trash bin beside your bed. Your legs are numb, and you are a little shuddery all over from the lingering overstimulation. Hyunjin helps you get comfortable then melts into your waiting arms. You resume kissing and caressing him slowly as he tucks the two of you under the blanket and settles on top of you. He rubs his dumpling cheek over your heart and smiles when you giggle at him.

“I love you,” He murmurs, “You okay?”

You nod.

“I’m good, baby. I love you, too. You always make me feel so good.”

“Mhm, I’m sorry I was rough.”

Hyunjin massages your hips and gently squeezes your thighs. You hum and brush your fingers through his hair, tidying his mussed locks and ridding it of tangles.

“You don’t have to be sorry, babe. I loved it. You were perfect.”

“You’re perfect.”

He leans up to share a sweet kiss, stroking your cheek as your lips meld together. When you part, he pecks your chin then lets his lips trail down your neck. Your eyes flutter and you exhale peacefully as exhaustion overtakes you. Still, you stay awake when he brushes his lips over your ear and whispers to you.

“Thank you, for taking it off.”

“Mhm. Jealous baby.”

He whines at your teasing tone.

“You’re so mean.”

“And you’re ridiculous,” You murmur as you drift off, “But I still love you. You’re my favourite boy. My one and only.”

He nods and pecks your cheek. “I know. You’re my one and only, too, baby.”

The morning arrives peacefully. You wake up before your alarm, and enjoy a few minutes of admiring Hyunjin’s sleeping visage before you slip out of bed to get ready for the day. He is still sleeping after you finish your routine, completely undisturbed as you get dressed and check your phone. You still have some time before you have to go, so you sit beside him on the bed and card your fingers through his hair as you scroll through your phone. He stirs and looks up at you blearily when you run your thumb down the bridge of his nose.

“Mh?”

“Good morning, baby,” You peck his forehead, “I have to go out. I have a couple errands to run. I won’t be long, okay?”

“Mhhm.”

You tuck him in and kiss his temple as he nuzzles his face into a pillow. You giggle and leave with a fond smile.

Hyunjin wakes later, before you return, and pats the empty space beside him until he realizes you are not there. He rolls onto his back to look around and swipes a hand over his face as he fights his disorientation. Eventually, he vaguely remembers you kissing him goodbye earlier when he was somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Unfortunately for him, he has no clue when that was or how much longer it will be until you get home. He lets out a frustrated sigh for no one but himself and eases himself out of bed. He pulls on his boxers, finding them among the pile of other clothes hastily discarded when the two of you fell into bed the night before, and shuffles to the bathroom.

He is a bit more awake when he returns to your bedroom, and pauses as it registers in his vision. White fabric, carelessly casted to the floor, sitting atop your panties and his hoodie. He scoffs at it, so it will know how he disapproves of it gracing his presence, and crosses the room to pick it up off the floor. He had not cared to look at the white tee any more closely once the idea of you wearing someone else’s clothes crossed his mine, but he is drawn to dissecting it now. He does not recognize the print on the front, some band or characters you never mentioned, but he does admire it a bit now. Ultimately, he understands why you kept the shirt on an objective level. It is nice, albeit a little worn, and there is nothing aesthetic-wise that he dislikes about it.

Hesitantly, he toys with it before bringing it to his nose. He gives a tentative sniff as he recalls your words from a week ago. I wear it all the time. I think it’s just always dirty. The shirt definitely did not smell like fresh laundry, or whatever he was expecting it to smell like. It smells like you. He cannot place it, there is a mix of familiar smells invading his senses; the remnants of your body wash, a hint of the candle you light after stressful days, the trace of your hot scent that drives him crazy during your intimate moments. His eyelids flutter and he groans, pressing the fabric to his nose and inhaling deeper. He recalls how comfortable the shirt was to wear before he learned of its origins, and begrudgingly pulls it on before crawling back in bed.

Missing you is torture for him during the rare moments he wakes up alone in your bed, but wearing your shirt settles his loneliness for a bit. That is, until he gets restless again. He could go find his phone, wherever he abandoned it when you two started getting handsy the night before, but he is already so comfortable under the covers. The only thing missing is you. He pulls the collar up over his nose and breathes in, momentarily subdued by the illusion of being enveloped by you. Then he remembers the vision of you from last night, wearing this same shirt and taking him so dutifully in this same bed. He groans and curses himself, reaching down to palm over his growing erection. The shirt, still too big for him, adds an extra obstacle between him and relief as he strokes himself leisurely. He shucks his boxers off under the blanket and reaches under the shirt to grasp his cock firmly. He groans and gives himself a rough squeeze before jerking himself slowly.

One hand holds the shirt up over his nose while the other roams over his length. He wishes it was you. He bucks his hips up at the thought of you touching him and puffs sharply into the shirt. He squirms, the tip of his cock rubs against the inside of the shirt with every stroke and creates a delicious amount of friction. It is so soft, gliding against him without any discomfort and very little resistance. His hips jump again and he has to clutch the base of his cock to stop himself from climaxing too quickly. He discovers that he can taste your scent stronger if he inhales through his mouth, and before too long is panting desperately as he thrusts into his fist. He is too hot now, and kicks off the blanket before resuming the rhythm of sucking in deep breaths while fucking into his own hand.

He is almost there now, possibly on the verge of cumming faster than any other time he has touched himself. He watches his cock strain under the shirt through his eyelashes, and whines when his precum begins wetting a spot in the white fabric. It sticks to him now, turning a bit translucent where his arousal beads through the material. His eyes pinch shut and he controls himself again. He does not want to finish so quickly. This feeling of pleasure is new to him, being smothered in your scent and comfort with the perfect sensation helping him get off. The only thing that might compare is actually getting to fuck you, but this is so different.

He cannot edge himself any longer, the pleasure that has been pooling has become too much. He begins jerking himself faster, ignoring the dry scrape of his unlubed palm on his shaft. He collects some of his precum and uses that to ease his motions. It helps just enough and allows him to reach his climax without further hesitation. He cries out and pants out a series of whimpering moans as his cum shoots out in thick spurts.

You lean in the doorway, watching his release soak through the fabric and further dampen the spot over his cock. You had been watching since he kicked the blanket away. In fact, you knew what he was doing when you entered the apartment and heard his soft moans ringing out in the silence. What you had not expected was walking in on the scene before you- but you were far from disappointed. You let Hyunjin recover a bit before speaking up. He tugs down the collar of the shirt and heaves in a much needed breath.

“I thought you didn’t like that shirt?”

He jumps and throws his palm over his face.

“Fuck.”

You laugh as his other hand slips guiltily out from under the shirt and falls limp on the bed, a bit of his cum sticking between his fingers. You saunter over to the bed, leaning in to run your hand up the inside of his leg as you walk up alongside him. He shivers and peeks at you through his fingers, chest rising and falling quickly in anticipation. Your hand takes his wrist from where it lies on the bed, you hold him firmly as you ease down to straddle his lap. You hold up his messy fingers, almost in admiration, and meet his gaze as you suck them into your mouth. He groans and lets his other hand drop so he can watch you lap each one clean. Your lip twitches as you guide his fingers over your lips, smearing your spit as you lead him to cup your cheek.

“Well?”

“Huh? Oh, the shirt, right,” You giggle and silently urge him to reply, “I-It’s alright. I still don’t like it.”

“Really? You seem to like it, at least a little bit.”

You pry the shirt up from where it has begun to stick to his cock and he hisses. You tilt your head and run your thumb over the patch of soiled fabric thoughtfully.

“O-Only because it smells like you.”

“Oh? Is that it? Are you still jealous?”

Hyunjin sets his jaw and avoids your gaze for a moment as he licks his lips nervously.

“I don’t know…”

“Be honest, Hyune.”

His eyes flick shyly to yours.

“It’s not easy just to… not be jealous. You know that.”

“Mhm…”

You move up his lap, not caring when you settle onto the dirty patch or his oversensitive cock. He watches with a worried frown as you brace your hands on either side of his head and lean over him.

“Wanna know a secret?”

“Yes,” He breathes, looking up at you expectantly.

“You’re jealous over someone who I never had feelings for, and who never got to touch me.”

His eyes widen then narrow.

“But, y-you said your ex left it!”

“Ah-ah- I said ‘someone’ left it behind. You were the one who assumed I was ever into that person.”

He puffs his cheeks and glares softly.

“You lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie, I just didn’t correct you. You shouldn’t have assumed you knew who forgot it.”

“You set me up.”

You laugh.

“I set you up? For what? To catch you jerking off in my shirt?”

“Yes!”

Your laughter intensifies and Hyunjin fights his smile. He looks embarrassed, face still flushed, but the twinkle in his eye as you become breathless above him seems to signify his ease with the circumstances. You sigh happily and lean down to reward him with a deep kiss, which he eagerly returns.

“How about we get you clean, hm?”

“Sounds good to me.”

You giggle and tug at the shirt playfully.

“And I’ll get our shirt washed up.”

“Yeah, you let it go too long. It’s way too dirty to wear now.”

You snort.

“Okay, actually, you can wash your own messes.”

He grins.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Hyune.”

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #hyunjin x reader #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #skz fanfic #skz reader insert #stray kids reader insert

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cheri-2047 · 3 months

Note

Hello! I hope im doing this right hehe,,,

Can i request for a Lyney x fempainter!reader who's also a tsundere? Reader also has a soft spot for flowers :3 tysm in advanced!!!!

i have such a big Lyney brainrot sm to the point that my parents call him my boyfriend 😭

ANYWAYS. IVE been wanting to feed The lyney x reader tag cause I love my husband. thank u for the req btw !!

sorry if I made the reader a bit like,,, too much (??) my bad if I did

“Roses for you!”

TAGS: fluff ! CHARACTERS: Lyney, Rosseland, Mentions of Charlotte,

Poof

you were painting peacefully, while Lyney was out on a mission. Lately you had been running out of inspiration, so sometimes you would get his cat Rosseland to pose for you.

“guess who~”

Someone covered your eyes, appearing out of nowhere.

“you’re back early” you smiled, before the man who appeared behind you covered your eyes tighter

“You didn’t guess”

“ugh you- I mean my wonderful and amazing boyfriend, the one and only, the greatest man in Teyvat, Lyney!” You said sarcastically, Lyney chuckled as he felt you rolling your eyes.

“oh come on now! Don’t you want to see something cool?” “look Lyney- I’m- ah rosseland no go back!” you felt the cat rub against your leg, you got tickled a bit.

lyney chuckled at the sight, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, causing you to get tickled more

“ah-lyney” you laughed “stop!!”

He chuckled before letting go of your eyes

“tada!”

and just like that, your canvas was gone. “hey where did you-“

when you looked back, you saw him holding a bouquet of rainbow roses. You blushed

“why did you…”

“you said you were running out of inspo right?”

you nod

“and you know how I’ve been in a lot of missions lately right?”

you nod

“well I.. charlotte told me in a mission that rainbow roses signify romance and passion. And well… I got reminded of you”

you blushed, averting your gaze

“they’re fresh too! I Just picked them”

he smiled, sitting on a chair behind you and hugging you from behind.

“wait..picked them?”

“mmhm, I grew them myself.”

you were shocked, you didn’t even know that he had been growing flowers for you.

“just like my love has grown for you”

AND THAT WAS IT. That was the last straw, at this point you were a flustered mess and you didn’t know how to thank him. Let alone even look at him.

“Tsk…you shouldn’t have-“

“No- no buts! I wanted to, I love you”

he smiled, holding your chin to make you face him. He laughed, “my you’re so cute like this!” “shh!!” You crossed your arms, as your lover planted a kiss on your lips.

He moved the chair next to you and with a snap, the canvas re appeared and the roses in a vase in front of it

“can I Watch?”

you nod, and he lays his head on your shoulder as you start to sketch.

“your art is so pretty… I’ll never understand how you do it so well…” he mumbled as Rosseland hops into his lap. and just nuzzles against him a lot.

“I think rosseland agrees as well” he smiles. Looking up to see you for a bit

“still speechless Mon ange?” He chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“I love you”

A/B: aaaaand that’s a wrap. I might draw this honestly HAHAHAHAH sorry it’s kinda short, I just kinda did whatever here. Also sorry if the French terms of endearments are wrong, I just searched it up. Anyways mon Ange is my Angel :>>> I had fun writing this WAAH I love Lyney so much (this is my second lyney post of the day…) btw, good luck on your art journey !!

btw… my Masterlist issue isn’t fixed yet, if anyone can comment how to fix it that would be a great help, thank you !! (And also comments to improve are also appreciated, anything about capitalization and grammar and stuff I know, I’m writing for fun so I don’t pay much attention to that HAHHAHA)

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #fluff #headcanons #lyney #lyney x reader

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jackfrostsisterssisterinlaw · 9 months

Text

MHA random guys x Y/N

I am so sorry to the person who requested this over a year ago, I suddenly disappeared and forgot requests were a thing when I got back. This one’s a little rushed because I’m having exams these days but I’ve made you wait over a year so I had to get it done.

The random guys include Deku, Bakugou, Monoma, Shinso and Amajiki.

word count : 987

Warning : IF YOU SO MUCH AS LOOK AT AMAJIKI 🤬 I’ve got my eye on you.

as usual can’t take any credit for the pictures.

Deku

Let’s be honest you probably don’t deserve him. No matter how much you do for him he’s going to somehow be doing more for you. It’s not that he treats love as a competition, it’s just that it’s in his nature to put his two hundred percent to everything and that includes his relationship. And if he chose you as the one that’s really something. He loves just staring at you and absorbing every single detail. He notices the smallest change in your appearance and can always tell when you’re feeling down. He hates it when you don’t communicate and share your pain and eventually manages to get it out of you by playing the victim. Try to give back at least 50% of what he’s doing for you because that would be a normal person’s 100%. He’s very possessive although he doesn’t tell you directly. He’s going to be super grumpy if you hang out with other people more than you spend time with him. Also here’s a secret. He loves it when you ruffle his hair and give him forehead kisses so keep doing what you’re doing :)

Bakugou

I don’t know how you did it. HOW DO YOU PUT UP WITH THE GUY? He appreciates you for it more than you know. He knows about his anger issues and how his inconsistency can make him a difficult person to love, but when he saw you loving him unconditionally and always being there, he realized what a difference that made in his life. It hurts his pride to tell you his problems and he finds it far easier to just burn the furniture but he really tries. He hasn’t been burning much furniture lately right? He’s opening up to you more and more every day and wants to become the same cushion for you. He wants you to be able to trust him as much as he trusts you. If another person looks at you for a second too long or makes you laugh, he is going to be jealous as hell. Trust me the moment he drops you home after a date or is out of your sight, he is going to track them down and give them the scariest warning in their life. It’ll be so scary they’ll refuse to see anyone in a romantic way anymore incase there are more bastards like Bakugou. He loves it when you try to be rough with him and that one time you pinned him against the wall..yeah I think he wants you to do it again.

Monoma

If you’re with Monoma that speaks a lot about you too. Because from a surface level I don’t think anyone can stand Monoma. He looks like he’s arrogant and obnoxious and gloats thinking he’s above everyone. His slicked hair and the way he sneers like he knows he’s good looking. There’s a lot of things to dislike. But you chose to stay and dug deeper. You were able to see the insecurities he tries to mask with his persona and the internal bruises he covers beneath his tuxedo. He adores you for knowing him so well and relies on you a lot. It’s sometimes hard for him because he hates depending on someone but you always comfort him and tell him that you’ve found your calling. He kisses you then, multiple times all around your face finally ending at your lips. Verbal affirmations aren’t really his thing because somehow stuff he says still comes out as self absorbed and arrogant. But with you by his side he’s improving every day. He gets really irritated when people hang around you but he tries to convince himself that you’ll be loyal and he doesn’t have to worry. He’s not stupid he hears what everyone says about how you could do better. But you chose him in the end and that’s what’s important.

Shinso

You like the silent mysterious type don’t you? Absolutely nothing wrong with that because he is a total green flag. To be honest I don’t think he knows exactly how to be romantic and sometimes his gestures of love can be a little weird. Like sometimes when he sees you in a crowd even if you smile and wave he’s just gonna stand there looking at you with no expression. He forgets he has a mouth and eyes that can be used to express one’s emotions. He also has no understanding of social cues so please bear with him. Also I’m sorry that your pickup lines hit a blank wall. Except that one time you made a star-wars pickup line and said yoda only one for me. You fell even harder for him when you realized he was a geek too and he fell harder because he finally understood all the nonsense you were yapping about and meant them romantically. Bear with him, I know he sucks at showing it but he really likes you. Have you seen the way he grits his teeth and glares if someone so much as looks at you. You like him being possessive don’t you? He loves it when you have deep conversations with him and he’ll listen to you talking endlessly.

Amajiki

LOOK AT MY POOKIE MWAH

I’m sorry but Amajiki is mine. Go find your own cinnamon roll. I’m gate keeping all his character traits and love languages. I’ll just word drop so that you get jealous.

He’s super depressed and moody if I leave him and talk to someone else.

The moment he sees me in a crowded room, he walks up to me and attaches himself to me and eventually convinces me to leave so that we can hang out together.

He’s biggest fear is actually losing me, he doesn’t mean that as a joke.

He loves it when I cuddle him and tell him how much I love him.

Which I do on a regular basis so back off. :3

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blue2black · 6 months

Text

HAZBIN HOTEL BLOOPERS:

BONUS (1 & 1/2)

—🎬—

Vivziepop: Don’t get me wrong; I love working with these people. Really, I do.

Vivziepop: But for the love of everything that is unholy if they make one more Snapcube, Sonic Dub reference…

*Vivziepop, sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose*

Vivziepop: I will go to hell for murder.

—————————

HAZBIN HOTEL X SNAPCUBE

—————————

(Husk and Alastor fight scene)

Alastor: *sighs dramatically*

Husk: 🫤? *thinks Alastor is improving*

Alastor: I miss my wife, Husker…

Husk: Oh—haHA! 😂 *tilts his head back*

Alastor: I miss her a lot 😭

—————————

(Lucifer punches Adam scene)

Lucifer, wired up in the air to appear like he’s flying: I have to contain you in here.

Adam, also wired up in the air to appear like he’s flying: What??

Lucifer: Your—*giggles*—your fart smells so bad… 😆

Adam: Wait, it wasn’t me!

Adam, being dropped: YOU SMELT IT THEREFORE YOU’RE THE ONE WHO DELT IIIITTTTTTT!!!!!

Lucifer, covering his smile: 🤣

—————————

(Vox calms down Valentino scene)

*Vox, coming up from the elevator*

*elevator dings and opens* Vox: 😏

Vox: My dusty bitch senses told me-

Valentino: SHUT THE FUCK YOUR MOUTH YOU PIECE OF SHIT- 😂 *throws drink*

Director: CUT! Both of you—WHAT THE HELL??

*Valentino and Vox laugh their asses off*

—————————

(Valentino hits Angel scene)

Director: (3…2…1) Marker.

🎬

Director: Action…!

Angel: Val, I didn’t-

*Valentino “hits” Angel* Angel: OW—Val—!

Valentino, holding Angel by his scruff: Shutthefuckup—SHUT THE FUCK UP! EVERYBODY’S FUCKED MY WIFE *laughs*

Angel: *laughing out of confusion* WHAT?!

—————————

(Lucifer in battle scene)

Lucifer, at the edge of the hotel’s roof: GOIN’ UUUUUUUUP!!!

Lucifer: *jumps off*

—————————

*Velvette and Carmella laughing*

Carmella: Wait—waitwaitwaitwaitwait. *smiling*

Velvette: *wheezes* 😆

Carmella: Okay—go ahead. *holding up the angel’s head (fake)*

Velvette: Hey! Give that, that looks really scrumptious! *trails off giggling*

Carmella: 🙂

Velvette: (ಡ 艸ಡ) *barely holding it together*

Carmella and Velvette: …

Carmella: No.

*Velvette and Carmella break out into wheezing laughter*

—————————

(Alastor breaking Vox’s spy camera scene)

Alastor: *picks up camera* HaHA…you’re going to have to do better than that.

Vox: Why are you on the same line as the VILLAIN LI- *Alastor breaks the camera*

*BTS crew bursts out laughing* Alastor: *walking out as if nothing happened*

—————————

(Alastor takes Charlie to Cannibal Town)

Alastor, while linking arms with Charlie: And here we are!

Charlie: Cannibal Town?

Alastor: No.

Alastor, in all seriousness: Welcome to tilted towers.

Charlie: *chuckling*🤦🏻‍♀️ I know you did not just mess up this whole scene on purpose to make that fucking joke. *Director: CUT!*

—🎬—

(Alastor introduces Charlie to Rosie scene)

Alastor: This is Rosie! One of the most darling, daring and dangerous overlord on this side of the Pentagram! *Rosie bows politely*

Rosie: *raises herself back up to face Alastor and Charlie*

Alastor: … :)

Charlie: …? •-•

Rosie: … “:)

Rosie, resiting what Alastor told her to say: We get so tilted at the towers-

*Alastor wheezes* Charlie: OH for fuck sa-

—————————

Vox *trying to fix Valentino’s coat for him before the start of a scene*

Valentino: I got it, Christian, geez! 😖

Vox: I’m just trying to help you, god damn!

Velvette: Hey, can you two stop having relationship issues while I’m on the phone with my nonexistent dentist. 😌

Vox: AhHA! Oh, funny that Lilli, yeah.

Vox: 😒🖕🏻

Velvette: Û🫦Û🖕🏾

—————————

(Pentious and Cherri at the club scene)

Cherri: Why would we have sex?

Pentious: Why-

Pentious: *laughs at his idea* Why are your tits one polygon— *breaks off wheezing*

Cherri: PFF—HAHA! 🤣💥💥 *bangs on the table*

—————————

Husk, running around behind the scenes: HAHA, HAH HAH--

Husk: *jumps up* ONE! ☝🏿😄

Vaggie, witnessing it all: ᵀʰᵉ ᶠᵘᶜᵏ ⁱˢ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ…? 😆

—————————

(Discussing theories with Alastor and Lucifer 😃)

Alastor: Do you think it's Lilith?...the one who leashes my character.

Lucifer: Ehh, I think it's possible at least.

Lucifer: It feels a little too obvious.

Alastor: Some of the fans add a little more spice to it.

Lucifer: Spice?

Alastor: 😗

Lucifer: 😐

Lucifer: Ew.

Lucifer: You stole my wife, Alastor?

Alastor: Haha! 😆

Alastor: How do you think Lucifer would feel if that happened?

Lucifer: Oh--I don't know Amir, how do you think he would feel being CUCKED BY A DEER?!

Alastor, laughing: I KNEW a reference was coming!-

—————————

(Angel calming Niffty in the club scene)

Niffty: Shut up shut up shut up shut up...

Niffty: Shut up.

Niffty: SHUT UP.

Niffty: SHUT UP!!

Angel, holding her up: Kimiko, no one's saying anything... 😭

Niffty: I'm improving, do me a favor and play along. *flaps her hand in Angel's face*

Angel: But you're just copying-

Niffty: SHUT UP!

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weyrwolfen · 4 months

Text

Caveat Emptor: Chapter 2 - Corpus Delicti

Rating: T

Characters: Gen, Commanders Fox, Thorn, Thire, and Stone

Warnings: canon-typical violence; references to self-harm, injuries, loss of autonomy

Previous chapters can be found here on Tumblr or here on Ao3

“You’re going to let it in to see the Chancellor, but not me?” Senator Corval shouted at the Senate guard, red-faced and spitting. “Don’t you know who I am?”

The natborn guard, a lieutenant from the markings on his blue uniform, replied, “Of course, Sir, but there has been an incident, and the Chancellor’s schedule had to be cleared. Now, if you would just–” The rest of the perfectly polite, placating line of strill osik cut out as the door slid shut behind Fox.

He hadn’t been arrested on sight and dragged off for interrogation yet. So far, so good.

The CSF investigators had set up just inside the Chancellor’s front lobby, away from any awkwardly prying eyes. They took down Fox’s designation number, assessed his baseline biometrics (clone standard, but protocols were protocols), had him remove his gloves and gauntlets for full handprint scans, and then asked him to step onto a sheet of tacky flimsy to record his boot tread (also clone standard, who would have guessed). Then they handed him a pair of disposable covers for his boots, forewent the sterile gloves given his existing armor, and sent him on with terse, borderline rude instructions to not touch anything and to leave the investigation to the trained professionals.

Because of course the CSF would be all over this situation. Right up until it looked like something might go wrong or make them look bad, and then the responsibility and the blame would get dumped in Fox’s lap.

Except Fox needed Guard eyes on this investigation right from the beginning. He needed a way to guide the narrative, to protect himself and his men from the blowback he could see coming from a lightyear away.

He needed to know what he, what CC-1010, had done.

Breathe, in and out, and calm.

Without evidence, he didn’t know anything. Maybe they’d find the Chancellor sleeping off a tainted spice bender in a broom closet somewhere. That was a common enough issue around the Senate that Thorn had worked up a standard protocol for overdose clean up and cover up procedures.

Little gods, could they please find him drooling off a laced spice rip somewhere? At that moment, Fox couldn’t imagine a more ideal outcome. There was going to be a scandal no matter how this shook out, but at least that scenario would be effectively impossible to pin on the Guard.

Senate guards and the CSF were doing a pretty good job of keeping a lid on things so far. It wouldn’t last of course, especially with the way Corval was carrying on where anyone might overhear. Aides would gossip and rumors would spread until someone leaked the whispers to the press. Then someone would have to go make an official statement, and everyone would notice that the Chancellor still wasn’t in appearance.

And that was assuming the rules of Senate procedure wouldn’t force everyone’s hands even earlier. With the Chancellor missing, a timer was counting down. When it ran out, Mas Amedda would need to be sworn in, if only as a temporary guarantee of the continuation of powers. That would require justices and witnesses and a formal statement before the Senate itself.

Karking Sith-hells, today was going to be a nightmare. Maybe the CSF shabuire would welcome the extra manpower for once, instead of fighting over jurisdictional minutiae and acting like the Coruscant Guard all wanted to be here dealing with stuck up natborns instead of on the front lines, defending their brothers.

The covers barely fit over Fox’s boots; they hadn’t been designed with armor in mind. He had to lean awkwardly against the door frame to get them on correctly. Force karking forbid his armored shebs touch one of the museum pieces masquerading as ‘chairs’ in the lobby. He’d be decommed for his temerity on the spot.

Breathe. He just needed to sell the alibi Thire had prepped. Everyone was going to be on edge, given the circumstances. It was only expected that he would be too. He just needed to keep a reasonable handle on his composure, which was not too difficult a mission in the greater scheme of things.

Fox squared his shoulders, signaled one of the gloved CSF investigators to activate the door panel, and stepped into the Chancellor’s inner office.

For a moment, the only movement in the office came from the small camdroids that were scanning the opulent room to generate a three-dimensional model of the space. Fox found himself the subject of intense inspection.

Under the safety of his concealing visor, he returned the favor, scanning the space for potential threats as he made his way towards the front of the room and the expansive desk situated there.

Most of the people in the room were higher ranking CSF agents, performing tasks usually reserved for entry-level investigators and trainees. Every aspect of this case was going to be locked down for anyone without the absolute highest clearance levels. Fox noted their tension, their hostility towards him, but none of it struck him as particularly unexpected or noteworthy. This high-profile a case was going to make them even more territorial than usual.

Of more concern were the handful of Senate guards, who were watching everyone in the room with hair-triggered aggression. They also viewed the Coruscant Guard as unwanted competition and interacted with the clones only when forced. But now, something had happened to the Chancellor on their watch, and Fox would bet every credit he’d ever seen that the blame and finger-pointing was already being directed their way.

The ranking Senate guard on site looked to be Captain Axion, who appeared red-faced and furious at being pried from his cushy office by the unfolding catastrophe. Fox would need to handle this confrontation with extreme care. Axion would be looking for some third party upon whom he could saddle the blame, and as the last person on record having seen the Chancellor, Fox himself would be a very tempting target.

Even so, he was not the subject of Fox’s primary concern. The man standing in front of Captain Axion was.

From a distance, General Mace Windu looked like the very picture of Jedi composure and serenity. In closer proximity, there were lines around the man’s eyes and mouth that were hard to miss, if anyone cared to look beyond the stony expression, meticulously draped robes, and lightsaber.

Fox was usually very good at getting a read on other sentients, but he had only the most passing familiarity with the Jedi. He interacted with the Knights and Masters who liaised with the Senate regularly, but always at arm’s length. Despite his training, despite all expectations ingrained in him by the Kaminoans, he and his men had never been assigned a Jedi general. They belonged, first and foremost, to the Senate.

So Fox knew General Windu, but not well enough to get more than a cursory idea of his mental state. The Jedi’s faintly pinched expression could mean any number of things: annoyance, frustration, physical pain.

Fox just needed to remember his training, though he doubted the Kaminoans had meant for him to apply it to convincingly lie to a superior. Jedi could sense the emotional state of other sentients, and sometimes specific thoughts or intentions with focused effort, but they trained all their lives to block out that constant stream of psychic input. Fox just needed to avoid drawing enough suspicion to earn a deeper look. His primary hope was that his mental state would blend into the tense backdrop of fear and anxiety that everyone present was no-doubt leaking into the room.

Deep breath, stop two paces from the general, and salute. “CC-1010, reporting as requested, Sir.” Fox’s words, like his posture, were exactingly precise.

So much was riding on his ability to perform to perfection. All of his brothers were counting on him.

The General gave Fox a brief, assessing look, then nodded incrementally and said, “At ease, Commander… Fox, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir,” Fox said, not letting any of the surprise he was feeling leak into his voice. He was accustomed to dealing with Senators who insisted he use his designation number and others who preferred knowing his chosen name, but he had not expected the head of the Order to actually recognize him. That would require some adjustments. He settled into a crisp parade rest and waited for his orders.

The general’s mouth twitched, almost hinting at the very beginnings of a small smile, and he said, “Commander Ponds speaks very highly of you.”

This conversation was not going how Fox had been expecting. The last time he had seen Ponds, his brother had been signing four troopers out of the Corries’ drunk tank. Fox wouldn’t have described the interaction as particularly cordial, but he wouldn’t characterize their relationship as bad, per se. Just distant, these days, and not the kind of dynamic that would come up in casual conversation with a Jedi general. “We were batchmates, Sir,” Fox replied, because he had to say something and that piece of information seemed neutral enough.

“Hmm,” the general said, giving Fox a piercing, stomach-lurching look, but then he turned to one of the nearby CSF agents and gestured for the woman to join them.

The investigator, some near-human species with translucently pale skin, magenta hair, and widely-spaced, exceedingly large eyes, rose from where she had been scanning something on the floor and handed the device off to a colleague.

“Inspector Svaryoskya has been compiling a record of the Chancellor’s known whereabouts yesterday,” General Windu said, nodding to the woman when she stepped forward to join the group. “If you could please make your report to her?”

“Of course, Sir,” Fox replied cooly, forcibly crushing down the spike in anxiety he felt at the prospect. He pivoted to face the CSF inspector. “Ma’am?”

Inspector Svaryoskya looked thoroughly put off by having to speak to him at all, but she at least made the effort to school her features into something vaguely professional and said, “If you would come with me?”

Fox followed her to a pair of temporary folding tables which had been set up to hold and organize samples and equipment. No doubt it had been done to avoid contaminating useful evidence from the pre-existing surfaces in the office. It took her a moment to set up what looked like a compact, holorecording device and synch it with a datapad while Fox waited, again assuming a meticulously correct position of parade rest.

The device beeped once and then lit up, scanning the immediate area with a wave of blue light before recognizing the two sentients standing in closest proximity to it and focusing in on their positions. Looking over the investigator’s shoulder, Fox could see a time stamp and a blinking record icon appear at the top of the datapad.

She pressed the icon and straightened, facing Fox head on and said, “Inspector Yana Svaryoskya, interviewing.” Her eyes settled somewhere on the level with Fox’s respirators, and she continued, “Please state your designation and rank for the record.”

“CC-1010, Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard,” Fox replied evenly. She did not request his name, and he did not volunteer it.

“Please explain the nature of your meeting with Chancellor Palpatine yesterday afternoon.”

Fox nodded and launched into the narrative Thire had provided for him, stitching together a few carefully crafted fabrications with as many verifiable facts as possible. “I was one of the commanders on site in the Senate yesterday, overseeing security for a scheduled press conference, when I received a report of surveillance outages affecting the security cameras in sector Thesh 16. Protocol dictates that such anomalies should be treated as intentional acts of sabotage until proven otherwise, so I transferred responsibility for the press event to a subordinate, forwarded a preliminary security alert to the Senate Guard, and went to assess the situation personally.”

So far, so good, but then everything Fox had relayed thus far had been entirely truthful. He reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out the datastick Thire had pressed into his hands on the turbolift ride to the ground floor of the Guard’s compound. He held it out to the inspector, who took it gingerly and eyed it with some suspicion.

Fox clasped his hands behind his back again and continued with his report, leaning into the cooly professional tone and cadence he generally used around hostile natborns, “It rapidly became apparent that the outage was not the result of enemy action and was instead caused by an infestation of Scyvian barrow-rats in the conduits. That datastick contains a copy of the Guard’s report, detailing the steps taken to identify and mitigate the interruption, until repairs can be completed.”

And then, it was time to start in with the lies. Fortunately, Fox was a very talented liar. “I received a request for an update on the security alert.” Bless Thire, who was downstairs right now, coaching Odal on what to say if any CSF agent showed up looking for independent verification of Fox’s account, and bless Sear’s team of slicers, for seeding the Guard’s records with fabricated evidence to back up this story. Security alert confirmation requests were generally automated, so they were easy enough to falsify. His men had done the hard work, Fox just needed to trust them and do his part to drive the blade home. “The situation on site was stable, with repairs in progress and extra Guardsmen assigned to patrol the affected areas, so I was able to respond to the Chancellor’s summons immediately.”

“Are you often asked to make such trivial reports in person?” Inspector Svaryoskya asked, looking up from the datapad where she had been taking notes. Her tone hinted at disbelief and thinly veiled accusation.

“No, Ma’am, but the Chancellor does not consider security threats to the Senate to be trivial in nature,” Fox answered smoothly, which made the inspector’s fair skin flush with obvious displeasure. “May I continue?”

The inspector’s mouth thinned ominously, but she simply said, “Please do.”

Lie. Lie believingly, because more lives than his own depended on it. “The Chancellor was relieved that the outages did not represent an intentional security breach, but he was highly displeased about the infestation of vermin in a historic section of the Senate dome.” Fox could almost see it, the way the Chancellor’s mouth would turn down at the corners, the way his eyebrows would drop low over his too-cold eyes. How his voice would sound gently concerned, but also faintly disgusted. Even scornful. Mocking.

How the skin down the back of Fox’s neck would start to prickle with unease. How his heartrate would pick up and his vision would tunnel a little, instinctive reactions to a perceived threat.

Breathe. He was overreacting, as usual. This office always set him on edge on the best of days. He just needed to complete this report.

“He had specific questions about the nature and duration of the repairs. In total, the meeting lasted perhaps twenty minutes.” It had lasted twenty-three, Thire had made sure he was aware of the exact times he entered and exited the suite, but a rounded number sounded more casual, more off the cuff. More believable.

Inspector Svaryoskya tapped her stylus on the datapad, narrowed her eyes at whatever notes she had taken, and then continued her line of questioning.

Where had he gone after the meeting?

Back to Guard headquarters, to put together the report on the incident and to reorganize the day’s patrol assignments, to maintain the extra security in Thesh 16.

Had the Chancellor left the main office space, during the meeting?

No.

Had he recorded any aspect of his meeting with the Chancellor?

No, that would be a violation of Senate and Guard security procedures.

Had he seen anyone unusual or suspicious upon leaving the Chancellor’s office?

No.

Had the Chancellor seemed uncharacteristically nervous or distracted during the meeting?

No.

Can you take off your helmet?

No, that is against Guard protocols when a trooper is participating in an active, ongoing security crisis.

She peppered in questions about things Fox had already described, playing dumb in an attempt to trick him into revealing an inconsistency in his story. The strategy was a common one, and often effective, even to someone who was aware of the parameters of the game.

But Fox was very good at this. He always had been, even as a cadet.

When had his men realized the damage to the electrical conduits was not external sabotage?

What route did Fox take to get to the Chancellor’s office from Thesh 16?

How many Senate guards were stationed at the Chancellor’s door, when Fox arrived?

Fox answered them all, varying his words to make them sound less rehearsed. Not that he’d had time to rehearse anything, not with the Jedi insisting on his presence as soon as physically possible. But Thire’s foreshortened briefing had still been exceedingly thorough, and Fox had an excellent memory.

After a while, Inspector Svaryoskya started to look and sound vaguely impatient to have this interview over. Fox got the distinct impression that whatever she’d been hoping for, he hadn’t given it to her.

He did not sigh or let his shoulders droop with relief. He did not smile, even inside the privacy of his sealed bucket. He simply stood at a perfect parade rest and waited. The words which marked the end of a formal interview came fairly quickly after that.

Could he think of any other observations which might be pertinent to the investigation?

No.

Would he be available, if the CSF required any further statements from him?

Of course.

Finally he was given a comm code, to contact her if anything occurred to him at a later time, and with that, the inspector curtly tried to dismiss him.

It would be a sunny day on karking Kamino before Fox took orders from any CSF agent. He reminded her that he had been called here by General Windu, and so he would remain until he was dismissed by the ranking GAR officer on site.

The inspector had not been well pleased by that, but she also didn’t have the legal authority to kick him out of the suite. She also couldn’t demand that General Windu order him to leave, because the Jedi was currently having a very one-sided fight with Captain Axion. One-sided in that the captain was almost frothing at the mouth over something the Jedi was saying, while the general himself seemed just as sedate as ever. Perhaps a little darkly amused, if the way one corner of his mouth was twitching upwards was any indication.

Fox cooly agreed to take up a post in a very out-of-the-way corner of the room to await further orders.

He was happy to do so. The position gave him a rather good view of the space. He was very accustomed to fading into the background while standing a watch. Maybe these CSF agents believed the gossip that clones were basically droids wrapped in flesh, or maybe they just weren’t aware of his helmet’s capabilities, but it took them all of five minutes to start treating him like a piece of inconvenient furniture.

Fox just dialed up the input on his external mics, split his HUD so the left side was magnified ten times, and settled in to observe.

General Windu wanted to open the Chancellor’s desk and private quarters. Apparently he could feel something concerning coming from both places, even though his senses were being obstructed or confused for some reason. Captain Axion was of the opinion that the contents of the Chancellor’s desk, much less his personal rooms, were to be treated as state secrets. The Jedi informed the captain that he had already dispatched a representative to obtain a security release from acting Chancellor Amedda. Apparently the captain felt that this was an attempt to circumvent the Senate guard’s authority.

The two were clearly locked in a stalemate, waiting for those documents, so Fox shifted his attention elsewhere.

Two CSF agents were running samples through a very familiar field chem-analyzer. Maybe it still had all four of its supports and wasn’t propped up on one end with a broken piece of scrap floor tile, but it was functionally the same model Thorn had smuggled into Guard headquarters. Even the vials and evidence bags were the same, although these had bar-coded labels already affixed to each of them.

Apparently they weren’t finding much of anything interesting. The room was nearly spotless. They’d found a small patch of spilled liquid next to one of the chairs, but it appeared to be some kind of high-proof alcoholic beverage. There were occasional smears of mixed organics and aromatics on the desk and chairs around the room, all consistent with high-end lotions and perfumes. Interestingly, they had found a very small smear of blood on the front lip of the Chancellor’s desk, but it appeared to be weeks old and very degraded by cleaning agents, suggesting that it wasn’t relevant to anything that might have happened within the last planetary rotation. That wasn’t stopping the two investigators from speculating wildly about its source.

Two Senate guards were stationed in front of the side door, which led to the Chancellor’s private rooms. They weren’t talking and seemed just as tense and angry as the rest of their colleagues. Fox could only assume that the on-site security team had already swept the space for life signs, but to exclude it from the current investigation seemed idiotic.

Then again, he certainly didn’t want to be the officer responsible for giving the order to toss the Chancellor’s underwear drawer if he showed back up alive and well and furious about the invasion of his domain.

Another investigator was positioned just to the right of the room’s main door, doing something to the decorative sconce on the wall and muttering profanities to himself in mingled Basic and Pantoran. Fox was aware that there was a concealed exit behind that wall panel providing access to an emergency escape turbolift. It had been part of Fox’s initial security briefing back when he first arrived on Coruscant, but he’d never actually had need to enter the space.

He knew that the access button was concealed under a sliding panel, worked into the side of the decorative wall sconce. That had been part of the security briefing.

The fact that the panel tended to stick unless jiggled just the right way had not been part of that briefing. Apparently the CSF investigator did not know that. Fox had no reason to know that either.

Why did he know that?

The prickling down the nape of Fox’s neck increased, crawling down his back. A headache, the kind that never seemed to fully go away these days, sparked and flared behind his eyes, no doubt triggered by his increase in heartrate and his corresponding spike in his blood pressure. He needed to get a grip on himself.

Fox breathed slowly and deeply through his nose, as he’d been trained, but he nearly choked and coughed instead when that sent an unexpected trickle of hot, copper-tasting liquid down the back of his throat.

Blood.

Great, and now his kriffing nose was bleeding again, and there wasn’t a karking thing he could do about it with his bucket on. Hopefully it’d just stop on its own before he made too much of a mess of the inside of his helmet.

The main entrance from the lobby swished open, and a second Jedi strode into the room with a swagger like he owned the place.

Fox didn’t recognize this general, but his appearance was certainly distinctive enough that Fox shouldn’t have trouble figuring out the Jedi’s identity later. He was perhaps a shade darker complected than the average clone, with locs half-tied up to keep them out of his face, and a gold tattoo across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

The general held up a datapad as he neared General Windu and the still-incensed looking Captain Axion. “I’ve got the security release right here,” he said and then extended the ‘pad to General Windu.

General Windu turned the datapad around and briefly read its contents. “Everything seems to be in order,” he said, handing it to Axion to look over as well. He then walked around the desk as the captain looked at the document.

“I’ll get Verus to bring up the spare access keys,” Axion said, sounding very disgruntled about it.

“No need,” General Windu replied, and sure enough, there was a faint ‘snick’ sound and one of the side-drawers slid open, seemingly of its own accord.

Fox wondered if his brothers on the front lines ever got used to this kind of casual Force osik. He certainly found it uncanny as all kriff.

General Windu reached down to shift something aside with his actual hands this time and then paused, eyebrows rising slightly. “Vos, I need you to look at this,” he said, low enough that Fox’s bucket almost didn’t pick it up.

“Look at it, or touch it?” the other Jedi, Vos, asked, walking around the desk to stand next to his superior. Whatever was in the drawer earned a sharp intake of breath and a softly whispered, “Well kriff me.”

General Vos tugged off one of his gloves and reached for whatever it was that had the two Jedi so concerned.

“Now, see here…” Captain Axion started to object, but was almost immediately interrupted.

“I know the procedures,” General Vos said, hand hovering above the open drawer. “You can exclude my prints later, but this requires bare skin.” And then he reached down and grabbed… something. Fox couldn’t really see well from this angle, but whatever it was, the item was cylindrical and made of polished metals that simply screamed of extreme expense.

Fox was about to zoom in the view of his HUD further to get a better look, but General Vos gasped and, despite having just said that he was familiar with evidence collection procedures, proceeded to drop, almost throw, whatever the thing was back into the drawer.

The interaction had drawn the attention of several of the CSF investigators, a few of whom gasped out protests at the handling of… whatever it was, but neither Jedi seemed to be paying any of them the smallest bit of attention. General Vos’s head whipped up, expression shocked, and caught General Windu’s eyes. Something passed between them in silence, some understanding or communication, because General Windu just nodded and looked back at Captain Axion.

“We need to clear this space,” General Windu said in a tone like beskar.

For once, even Captain Axion seemed to recognize that arguing was probably not the best course of action. “You mean, all of us?” he asked faintly.

“Yes.”

“Into the lobby, or…”

“Out of the suite entirely.”

That did not sound promising. So much for not making an obvious scene in the public hallway outside of the Chancellor’s office. What the kriff was the problem?

For the CSF agents and Senate guards for whom General Windu’s stern gravitas didn’t quite do the trick, General Vos’s charming cajoling and occasionally unsubtle shooing got them moving. Fox hung to the back as General Vos herded the others out, until he could approach General Windu with some expectation of not being overheard.

“Sir, the Guard has specialized bomb disposal units, biological contaminant gear, sniffer massifs. Should I comm for backup?” he asked, trying to cover the most likely circumstances which might require evacuation of the entirety of the Chancellor’s suite.

He also actively tried not to think about how whatever that thing was had gotten into the Chancellor’s desk. And whether he, or rather CC-1010, had had something to do with it.

General Windu gave Fox an odd look, but he answered readily enough. “Thank you, Commander, but this will be a matter for the Council to handle. If you could set up a perimeter to isolate the rooms, that would help us greatly.”

“Of course, Sir,” Fox replied, wishing the reply had been a little less cryptic.

Seeing as how the general did not seem to be interested in leaving his current position, Fox turned to go execute his orders. However, he did spare a quick glance behind him on his way out of the room. General Windu had turned to face the wide windows behind the Chancellor’s desk, looking out over the sprawling cityscape of Coruscant. His hands were clasped firmly behind his back.

Fox palmed several pre-labeled, empty evidence bags from the supply table and slipped them into one of his belt pouches on the way out of the door.

“For kriff’s sake,” Thorn said when Fox pulled off his helmet. “You’ve just been bleeding in there, all day?”

Fox didn’t dignify that with a response. He could see exactly how bad he looked in the ‘fresher mirror without the helpful commentary. The lower half of his face, most everything below his sluggishly dripping nose, was covered in tacky, half-dried blood.

He just glowered at Thorn and held out a hand, silently demanding the cannister of pressurized armor cleaner his brother was holding.

“Fix your karking face,” Thorn said, handing him a small first aid kit instead. “I’ll clean out your bucket.”

Fox glowered at Thorn, but he wasn’t about to turn down an offer like that. He handed over his bucket and snatched the kit. His face felt sticky and itched ferociously. He dumped the kit, his gauntlets, and his gloves into a neighboring sink, and turned on the fancy faucet in front of him.

Thorn flipped Fox’s helmet over and took a look inside. Whatever he saw earned a low whistle, audible even through the vocoder. “You know, I could have grabbed you new filters if you’d told me it was this bad.”

Fox cupped his hands under the stream of water and splashed it on his face. It swirled down the drain, red-streaked and flecked with dried flakes of blood. He wet his hands again and started scrubbing at the worst patches. “Why, when I’m just going to keep bleeding into a fresh set?” Fox snapped, at the end of his rope with just about everything. He’d managed to stanch the flow a few hours back, when he took a quick fifteen count for a ration bar. It hadn’t lasted.

“Have you told Scav?” Thorn asked, shaking up the cannister and then spraying it into the interior of Fox’s helmet over one of the sinks. The internal electronics were sealed against breath condensation and other types of moisture, but there were limits, and this was going to be pushing them. Fox didn’t have the down time for a full work-over of his helmet, maybe Mags could loan him a spare. He hated the idea of wearing a shiny bucket, but it was better than a glitching HUD.

Fox opened up the medical kit and found the sterile astringent wipes inside. “And when, exactly, do you think I would have had time for that?” he growled, using one of the wipes to scrub at a patch of mostly dried blood in the bare beginnings of stubble on his chin.

“Find the time, or he’ll kill both of us and use our bodies for spare parts,” Thorn said, almost conversationally. Fox knew him too well to miss the legitimate concern riding under the dark humor.

And he also wasn’t wrong. There were all sorts of rumors around the Guard about how Scavenger had earned his name. Fox hadn’t ever bothered to confirm any of them.

Fox just grimaced. “I will, as soon as I can head back to base.”

When that might be was anyone’s guess.

It had been hours, and the Chancellor still hadn’t turned up passed out in some corner of the Senate dome.

Nor had any Separatist group claimed credit for either kidnapping the Chancellor or assassinating him, and they certainly would have if they had. It would be a massive morale boost for the CIS.

No ransom letter had arrived in the Senate’s mailroom.

No questionable stench had started wafting out of the air vents.

There had been a few developments though, not that Fox was able to put the pieces together into a coherent picture.

Several additional members of the Jedi Council presented themselves at the Chancellor’s office soon after Fox had left the suite and set up a defensive perimeter. He could not be certain, but he thought the group represented every councilmember currently on planet.

Perhaps half an hour later, three more Jedi arrived with crates on a hovercart, all emblazoned with warnings so aggressive they might as well have been overt threats.

An hour after that, acting Chancellor Mas Amedda had come to the office, with two extremely harried-looking aides, fresh off announcing his unexpected ascension to the office in front of the sitting Senate body. It was a zoo out there, but Stone was handling the security instead of Fox, because somehow that fragmentation grenade of a situation was still only the second most incendiary event currently erupting in the Senate dome.

He'd looked sour upon arriving and even more so when he left, aides straggling along behind him with two boxes overloaded with flimsi files and datapads. Fox assumed they were the confidential contents of Chancellor Palpatine’s desk.

Well, most of them. He was pretty certain the Jedi wouldn’t be turning over the mystery cylinder.

The containment crates left a few hours after that, each with two Jedi as escorts. Thorn had shown up in the middle of their departure, along with the next shift of fresh Guards. It had been as good a time as any to slip away for a quick conversation in the service ‘freshers.

At least his face was now semi-clean, even though a new streak of blood was starting to trickle out of his left nostril. He fished a few gauze pads, a tube of bacta gel, and two pain tabs out of the first aid kit. He could dab a little ointment on two scraps of gauze and stick them up each nostril. The vocoder would probably cover for the worst of the stuffiness that would cause, but at least he wouldn’t be bleeding into his filters anymore.

“Did you bring the other items I requested?” he asked, dry swallowing the pain tabs and then tearing off the first bit of gauze and rolling it into a sort of conical, plug shape.

“Yeah,” Thorn replied, eyeing Fox out of the corner of his eye. “But are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“If you’ve got a better idea, now would be the time to share it.”

There weren’t security cameras in the Senate bathrooms. Thank the little gods for natborn modesty.

Except Thorn apparently couldn’t think of a better plan.

And Fox had run out of ideas hours ago. The Jedi weren’t telling him anything, and it was only minimally comforting that he wasn’t being singled out. They weren’t briefing the CSF or the Senate guards either.

Fox made the exchange in one of the ‘fresher stalls. The sterile gloves and empty bags were hidden safely away inside one of his belt pouches.

When the CSF agents were finally allowed back into the office suite to retrieve their equipment and samples, they unknowingly left with three extra bags with intentionally incorrect labels slipped amongst their other evidence. One contained a swab with the unidentified blood from Fox’s pauldron, one held the two silver hairs they’d found on his blacks, and the last had the sample of the odd, organic residue from the bruises on his face.

#caveat emptor fanfic #star wars fanfic #tcw fanfic #clone wars fanfic #the clone wars fanfic #commander fox #commander thorn #commander thire #commander stone #coruscant guard

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darl-ingfics · 16 days

Text

Sicktember Day 7: Borrowed Hoodie

Fandom: EXO

Sickie: Everyone but Chanyeol (flu)

Caregiver(s): Chanyeol

Word Count: 1349

Notes: Sometimes what matters most to me are the silly goose interactions. Also, this clip lives in my head rent free, so I had to give a nod to it.

“Okay, I don’t mean to be that guy, but I literally have no hoodies left, people,” Chanyeol announced. To anyone else, he’d sound beyond irritated. His members, though, was saw right through the hands on hips, pouted lips, weight leaning in one hip routine.

“Sucks to be you,” Sehun replied, currently scrolling aimlessly on his phone while smushed against Minseok’s left shoulder. He was currently wearing Chanyeol’s navy blue hoodie. Minseok was in the purple hoodie, but he at least had the decency to ask Chanyeol for it instead of raiding his closet. Like the rest of the ungrateful heathens spread throughout the living room.

Chanyeol crossed his arms over his (hoodie-less) chest. “I’m serious.”

“Maybe try covering your mouth and not giving the rest of us the flu, then,” Kyungsoo shot back, less teasing than Sehun. His eyes were blazing, forehead creased with ire, his fury completely untouched by his disheveled, clearly ill appearance. It also didn’t help that he was swimming in one of Chanyeol’s black hoodies. Still, Minseok reached over with the arm Sehun wasn’t using as a pillow and pulled the younger man towards him, guiding his head onto his lap to soothe him. Of the members, Kyungsoo hated getting sick the most, and he’d been incredibly sensitive and ready to fight since he’d spiked a fever two days ago. Especially if anyone made the mistake of reminding him he was sick.

“Soo-ya, be nice,” Junmyeon (another black hoodie) chided softly. The leader was currently trapped in their recliner under a sleeping Baekhyun (light pink). He didn’t mind being trapped there at all though; the vocalist’s gentle breathing was slowly but surely lulling the leader to sleep as well. And more sleep would be much welcomed after getting only three proper hours the previous night due to A.) Jongin’s fever spiking and causing nightmares that had him throwing up at 3am, B.) Sehun having a panic attack at Jongin puking, and C.) his own coughing.

“He’s not wrong though,” Sehun added unhelpfully.

“And it’s not like he isn’t already getting his karma back in the form of… well… this.” Jongin (maroon hoodie) waved his hands in a large circle to encompass the whole of the living room. He was currently sitting on the floor in front of the couch, back resting against Minseok’s legs. He’d plopped down there an hour ago, and nobody had gathered the strength to ask him why yet.

“Yeah, we’re the world’s best punishment,” Sehun added. “Only fit for the most devious of criminals.”

“You are such drama queens,” Chanyeol groaned, running a hand down his face.

“And you are the world’s worst nurse,” Sehun shot back, leaning over the back of the couch and pointing an accusatory finger at his fellow rapper. “If you were better at this, maybe we wouldn’t all still be sick.”

“Yeah! Park Chanyeol: worst health care professional,” Jongin played along, patting Sehun’s knee in support.

“More like health care crisis,” Kyungsoo mumbled. Jongin and Sehun laughed.

“Guys, I’m right here,” Chanyeol sighed. The past week had undoubtedly been a trial of Herculean proportions. Yes, it was true that Chanyeol had been the first in the group to get sick, but it wasn’t like he’d actively tried to infect the rest of them. It wasn’t his fault they were coming off of a busy award season of back to back performances with tight dressing rooms, little sleep, and mindlessly shared water bottles. He’d been as careful as possible, yet two days after he’d recovered, Jongin woke up coughing, and it was all down hill from there. They’d all dropped in record time. And really the issue over the hoodies was the only tangible way Chanyeol knew how to express his own frustration at having to do this practically by himself.

“Wait, since when?” Junmyeon joked. Of course Junmyeon was on Chanyeol’s side, even if he couldn’t physically help him much. Minseok too. But the support of his hyungs was meaningless since the rest of the members were a toss up depending on the hour. And, because of that, Chanyeol sighed, conceding the hoodie argument as his audience was clearly not in the right headspace for it.

As he made his way towards the living area, Jongdae (light blue) stumbled into the room, the physical embodiment of clammy and miserable. He staggered to the couch, climbing over the arm by Kyungsoo and settling in behind the younger vocalist so he could rest his head on Minseok’s only available shoulder.

“Did you throw up again?” Sehun asked, peeking across Minseok. Jongdae nodded, eyes closed. “Well don’t do it again in here, okay?”

“No promises,” Jongdae slurred. Kyungsoo whined, squirming in discomfort until Minseok’s fingers began running through his hair again.

“Guys, are we pathetic?” Jongin asked from his spot on the floor.

“Yes,” Chanyeol answered.

“Pretty sure that’s just a symptom of the flu,” Minseok added, shifting as much as possible to accommodate the grown men sticking to him like magnets. “Also, Yeollie, there are a few of your hoodies in the dryer. I started a load of laundry yesterd- or was it two days ago?” A soft smile creeped up Chanyeol’s lips as Minseok bit his lip in thought. “It… it doesn’t matter when. They’re in the dryer, okay?”

“Thanks, hyung.”

“Hey, don’t help him!” Sehun whined. “That’s not part of the game!”

“What game?” Minseok shook his head.

“The one where we steal all of his hoodies, duh,” Sehun scoffed.

“Let me guess: as karma for bringing the flu into the house?” Junmyeon asked sarcastically. Sehun nodded and Jongin snapped his approval.

“Guys, I physically cannot apologize anymore than I have. What more do you want from me?” Chanyeol exclaimed, at the edge of his patience.

“Sweetheart, they’re delirious, ignore them,” Junmyeon replied peaceably.

“We want justice!” Jongin exclaimed, throwing a fist in the air.

“Too loud…” Kyungsoo moaned, burying his face deeper into Minseok’s pajama-clad thigh. Kyungsoo’s shifting disturbed Jongdae, who had nearly fallen asleep, and the older vocalist whined in response.

“Okay, I physically cannot hold another person, so I’m gonna need you all to at least try to contain your emotions,” Minseok spoke up, more than a tad desperate. “Or I’m gonna need someone to hold me too.”

“Let’s watch a movie,” Chanyeol suggested. The tension in the room immediately diffused, as both Jongin and Sehun’s snapped to attention at the promise of an activity. Chanyeol was genuinely taken aback, but quickly jumped back into action. “Yeah, let’s put in a movie. We can all chill together.”

“That sounds perfect.” Junmyeon smiled up at him, both pride and relief clear in his eyes. “What movie do you guys want?” Jongin and Sehun both gave their opinions, talking over each other and arguing amongst themselves about the merits of their successive choices. Chanyeol tipped his head to make eye contact with the eldest. “Minseokie, hyung? What do you think?”

Minseok smiled. “The Little Mermaid.”

“The Little Mermaid it is,” Chanyeol declared, swiping the remote from the coffee table and ignoring the protests from the youngest members. It didn’t take long past the opening credits for all complaints to cease, the entire living room absorbed by the magic of Disney. Chanyeol smiled to himself as he returned to the kitchen to check on the soup he’d started earlier; it still had an hour or so to go, but was already smelling amazing. He was rather proud of himself for this one. Sehun and Kyungsoo and Jongin could tease him all they wanted; Park Chanyeol knew a thing or two about successfully nursing his pathetic brothers back to health.

After checking on dinner, Chanyeol returned to the living room, pulling up one of the chairs from the kitchen table between the recliner and couch so he could easily get up if anyone needed anything.

“Hey Yeollie?”

The rapper turned his attention to the couch, where Kyungsoo’s whispered voice had called him. “Yeah, bud?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Letting us borrow your hoodies.”

Chanyeol smiled, all his prior irritation forgotten. “Anything for you guys.”

#sicktember 2024 #sicktember #exo sickfic #exo sick #kpop sickfic #kpop fanfic #caretaker chanyeol #sickie xiumin #sickie suho #sickie baekhyun #sickie chen #sickie do #sickie kai #sickie sehun #darlingfics

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skz317cb97 · 2 years

Text

Seo Changbin x thick female reader

Word count: 4k

Synopsis: When your new personal trainer finds out exactly why you've hired him he does EVERYTHING he can to help you with your body image issues.

A/N: 18+ only! The 4th installment of the thick reader series! I hope you all enjoy! Please reblog, like, comment, shoot me an ask if you do! I love hearing from you guys especially about this series! As always warnings and smut below the cut!

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Strong language/cussing, dry humping, oral (f receiving), a bit of spit play, protected piv sex, a bit of a strength kink if you squint, a little anal play but no penetration, cum shot, slighy Changbin dom/MC sub dynamic, praise/pet names (beautiful, baby etc). I think that is everything but if I missed something, please let me know and I will add it immediately!

You were a little nervous about your first session with the new physical trainer you had hired. He came highly recommended and you wanted someone, no NEEDED someone that would get you results. Quickly. It was a no brainer to go with him. You were sent an email before your first session outlining the first steps in his fitness plan for you. It also informed you there was a dress code to be followed and that when you were at the gym you were to be in workout clothes made of light material, that allowed for easy movement. There were a few other rules outlined like no food or drink on the workout floor except water, wiping down your own equipment, normal rules you would expect in any gym.

You were standing there waiting in said gym, your ponytail high, wearing a peachy pink spandex sports bra and matching leggings, NOT something you would typically pick to go to the gym in but you didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot. He did seem like a bit of a hard ass over email and it had you a little more than anxious about meeting him. You had no idea what this guy was like or what he looked like. What if he was like one of those massive gym rat bros that always glared at you when you went to the gym before, what if he saw you and thought you were just a waste of time because you’re bigger, what if...

You were pulled from your spiraling negative thoughts when the trainer finally came in. He smiled brightly as he walked towards you, a soft dimple appearing in one cheek and you couldn’t help but give him a once over as he approached you.

He was buff but not crazy big, yet somehow, he seemed soft with his wavy black hair and charming smile. He was not as intimidating as you had expected. He was gorgeous too with his sparkling brown eyes, full lips and strong jaw.

His smile seemed genuine but you couldn’t help feeling a bit self-conscious in your gym clothes seeing how fit he was. You were about to try and cover yourself a bit but he tossed his duffle bag and extended his hand to shake yours before you could.

“Hi! You must be Mrs. y/n y/l/n! I’m Seo Changbin.” You took his hand and he gently cupped his other over yours as he shook it.

“Yes, I am, Ms. y/n y/l/n, it’s nice to meet you Mr. Seo.” You corrected him and he smiled at you again nodding.

“Ms. Please, call me Binnie. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together so no need to be so formal.” He gave you a beaming smile before getting right to business.

“I’d like us to start with some stretching to warm up and determine your range of motion and flexibility. I have a couple of yoga mats set up over here so why don’t you choose one and get into a lotus position.” You looked at him as if he’d just spoken a foreign language.

“Uh... lotus position?” He nodded and motioned towards the mats.

“Yes. On your butt, cross your legs, feet resting on your thighs.” You nodded in understanding and got into the pose he’d described.

“Good.” He came behind you and pulled your shoulders back a bit.

“Shoulders wide, spine just a bit straighter, like that, yes! Good!” You went through a few yoga poses like that. You felt a bit awkward bending over in the outfit you chose while Changbin watched you intently, making adjustments where it was needed until he deemed you stretched out enough.

“Okay we’re gonna start with cardio. Then we’ll do some weight training focusing on legs and core today, and we’ll finish up with some light stretching like we just did to cool back down. It’s important to stretch after as well so you don’t tense up and pull a muscle.” So far Changbin had been nothing like you were expecting. He was soft spoken, gentle, and encouraging. He led you over to the treadmills and motioned for you to get on the first, which you did. He hit some buttons that adjusted the incline of the machine and the belt under your feet started moving slowly.

“Let start with a higher incline and slower speed and we’ll work things up from there.” You wondered if he chose to do that because you were bigger or if that was a normal thing he did with all of his clients. He was good at noticing when you were getting distracted by your thoughts and he would either make an adjustment or ask you a question. You couldn’t help being distracted by the thoughts that were plaguing your mind, they were constant and the whole reason you were there in the first place.

“I can go faster.” Changbin nodded and increased the speed of your treadmill. You were now at a light jog but you still felt like you should be doing more.

“Really Changbin, I can go faster.” He nodded but this time he did not turn the speed up.

“Please, call me Binnie, and it’s not a race y/n we’re just getting your heart rate up. I know you can run faster but we still have another hour and a half so you don’t need to wreck yourself right at the start, trust me you’ll be sore and exhausted by the end of the session. Just, go easy.” You wanted to argue but didn’t and focused on finding a rhythm. Over the next thirty minutes every time you started to get a comfortable rhythm Changbin gradually reduced the incline and increased your speed until you were running at a good pace.

“Be sure to control your breathing, keep your posture straight and plant your feet, don’t run on your toes, you’ll hurt yourself.” You made the changes he suggested and it did feel better.

“You take direction well. I’m gonna bring the speed back down, do a cool down walk for five and then we’ll take a short break and start legs.” The belt under your feet started to slow significantly as did you. You were sweating and had a few stray hairs sticking to your face that was most definitely red now. After the five-minute cool down you grabbed your towel and water bottle. You wiped your face and neck and then took a big drink of your water. You were a little embarrassed that you were already SO sweaty and worn out. Of course you were, anybody would be after running thirty minutes on a treadmill. You could only hear the same old words echoing in your head though. His words, always in HIS voice. ‘Fat’ ‘disgusting’ ‘lazy’ ‘ugly’.

“You’re really doing a great job y/n!” Changbin walked up taking a drink of his own water. You tensed up a bit and stuttered.

“I-is that surprising to you?” Changbin’s brow furrowed, his head tilting to the side a bit.

“Wha-no I’m... just for someone that’s never worked with a trainer before you’re doing a really good job. Not everyone picks up direction as well as you do.” ‘Comes from years of doing anything a man said you needed to do in order for him to stay with you.’ Is what you wanted to say, instead you just nodded and took another drink of your water.

“Alright breaks over, come over here to this leg press.” Changbin took you over to a weight machine that had a low seat that angled back. He pointed down at the seat.

“Go on sit down, plant your feet firmly and flat against that plate there.” You did as he said, sitting and putting your feet on the plate. He came over to make his adjustments and with the level and angle of the seat you could see up Changbin’s shorts enough to get a good look at his thigh muscles. When one of his hands touched your knee and the other gripped your ankle, spreading your legs further apart you flinched and you couldn’t help how red your face turned or the throbbing you felt inside. Changbin smiled softly at you, he noticed you tensing up when he touched you

“There, shoulder width apart like that.” He said gently. You cleared your throat and nodded. With your feet planted Changbin released the safety bar and you could feel the weight on your feet now. It really didn’t feel like more than the plate it was so light.

“Uh, Ch-Binnie? I can... this doesn’t feel like anything, we can put on more weight than this.” Changbin raised his eyebrow at you and gave you a smirk.

“Are you preparing for a squatting competition or what? Look I’m the trainer you’re the trainee. You might feel like I’m going easy on you but you have to start at the bottom and work your way up or you’re going to hurt yourself. I don’t do injuries, okay?” Again, you wanted to argue but bit your tongue and nodded. Changbin had you do a few sets on multiple machines that worked your quads, calves, hamstrings, and your glutes. Your legs weren’t quite jelly when you were done but you definitely felt every part of them.

“Alright quick drink and then we’re doing core which you will learn love, aka core sucks.” He laughed patting his abs and shaking his head.

“It is my least favorite work out to do but it is a necessary evil. It’s helpful with balance as well as toning.” You wiped more sweat off and chugged water like you’d been stranded at sea.

“So like crunches?” You asked. Changbin shrugged, nodding and tilting his head side to side a little.

“Yea that works one area of your core but we’re gonna be doing dead bugs, glute bridges, side planks and inchworms today. That should give you a pretty rounded core workout, hitting the most areas. Then we’ll stretch and discuss what to expect at your next session. Now up! Back over to the yoga mats!” He clapped and you stood making your way over to the mats and then waited for Changbin’s next instruction.

“Okay on your back, arms straight up in the air. Knees stacked over your hips and your ankles in line with your knees, at a ninety-degree angle.” You laid down and got into the position kind of. Changbin came over and made his few adjustments, every touch quick, necessary and professional but clearly, you’ve been touch starved because you welcome it each time and wished they lasted longer. As soon as Changbin stepped away from posing you properly you realized the ridiculous position you were in and you felt like an ass. Your arms and legs fell back to the mat and you huffed in frustration.

“Changbin this feels stupid, I feel stupid. None of this is going to make a difference. I need results.” Changbin knelt down by you.

“Why did you hire me? What was your reason for wanting a personal trainer?” You sat up quickly.

“What? Why does it matter?” Changbin shook his head.

“I want to know what it was that made you decided to want to have a personal trainer, what’s your motivation, why are you doing this, why do you NEED results?” You sat there speechless.

“Come on y/n! There’s a reason, what is it. What’s the push? The drive? Don’t waste my time! What do you want!?” You choked as tears welled up and yelled back.

“I want my ex-husband to want me! I want him to not cheat on me with a nineteen-year-old girl half my size that looks like a god damned supermodel! I want to be the person he desires for once in my miserable existence, someone that ANYONE desires!” The tears streamed down your face. You got up quickly, grabbing your towel and water bottle. Changbin stood up realizing he’d pushed you too far. That there was more going on than he’d realized.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t... I didn’t mean to shout. y/n?" You didn’t move to leave but you didn’t set your stuff down either. Your head hung and you talked softly as you continued to cry into your hands.

“This was a mistake, none of it makes a difference. It never has before when I've tried diets and gyms. My ex-husband was right, I’ll always be fat, disgusting.” Changbin took quick steps towards you, firmly grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. You looked at the ground instead, your lip quivering as the tears still poured from your eyes. Whoever your ex-husband was had really been a piece of shit.

“You... you listen to me right now. Don’t EVER talk about yourself like that again. Not in front of me not EVER. Do you understand? What you just said is the furthest thing from the truth and I don’t want to hear it come from your mouth again. Even with diet and exercise y/n; will you ever shop in the petite section of a clothing department? No. It’s just your body and that’s alright! I’ll never shop in big and tall section either. It’s NO different and it doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you because there’s not and it doesn’t mean you’re not gorgeous because you are. Do you understand what I’m trying to say? You don’t need to change for anyone and fuck anyone who makes you feel otherwise. If you want change then change what you want. If you want to tone then we’ll tone, if you want to try and drop weight too that can also be a goal but the reason needs to be because you want it and it makes you happy y/n.” You sniffled and nodded and Changbin picked up a corner of your towel wiping the tears off your face. It was strangely intimate but not uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry I acted so crazy-” Changbin shook his head putting up a hand stopping you.

“Hey no you weren’t acting crazy, okay? Sounds like your ex did a lot to hurt you and that’s not easy to get over.” You nodded and went to leave before Changbin stopped you again.

“Oh uh! We’ll skip core for today but we should really still stretch and cool down.” You wiped your face with your towel again making sure your nose wasn’t running and walked back over to the mats.

“Okay, yea you’re probably right.” You tossed your things down and stood on your yoga mat. Changbin came up behind you suddenly, very close, and spoke right by your ear.

“We’re gonna do some different poses than what we did for warm up, okay?” Your breath shuttered out and you gave a small nod. Changbin’s hands held each side of your hips.

“Okay. Feet shoulder width apart now. Lean forward plant your palms flat against the mat.” You did what Changbin told you to, spreading your legs and bending over, his hands still holding you firmly. Once you were in the position Changbin made his ‘adjustments’ pulling your hips back just far enough for you to feel his warmth.

“Good good, just like that.” He said as he pulled back a little more and now you could feel his half hard cock pressing against your plush ass. You let out a small gasp and your whole body buzzed at the contact as your arousal practically poured from you.

“Does that feel alright?” You both knew he didn’t mean the stretching. You let out a breath and pushed into his touch a little more.

“Yea Binnie, feels good.” Changbin’s thumbs rubbed gentle circles on the back of your hips as he enjoyed the feeling of you pressed against him for a minute before pulling away. You stood up, surprised at the sudden loss, worried maybe he’d crossed a line he hadn’t really meant to that was until he walked around in front of you. He smiled at you but this one was different than the other’s he’d given you before. This was a little half smile. Just a smirk but it said so much.

“Lay down here, on your back.” You did so and Changbin knelt at your feet. One of his hands slid up your calf giving you a gentle squeeze behind your knee. You watched his every move and he was carefully reading the expressions on your face to see if you didn’t really want this, to see if you would stop him but you didn’t stop him. Changbin pushed up the leg he had a hold of stretching it up so your knee was pushed into your chest. His hips pressed into yours and you could feel his cock against you again, this time pressing against your warm cunt. You let out a deep breath as he leaned into the ‘stretch’ more, adding more pressure against your clit in the process and then he relaxed back a little, giving you a moment as he switched the leg he gripped to the other.

“MMhmm good... very good. Now this one...” He said pushing the other leg back just like he’d done the last but this time he practically rubbed his clothed erection up and down your slit making you close your eyes and bite your lip. Changbin watched as the blush crept up from your breasts to your neck, then your face as he rubbed his cock against you harder.

“That’s it, stretch it out.” It should have been a completely normal, innocent thing for a trainer to say and it would have been if Changbin didn’t have you in a half mating press while pressing his cock against your drenched pussy, your clothes being the only thing stopping from him sliding inside you and being in heaven. He released the hold on you again letting your leg come back down, his hands sliding down the outsides of your thighs as he leaned back on his heels.

“I think one more position should do it.” He said giving you that smirk again. You sat up and nodded in agreement.

“Okay Binnie, how do you want me?” You asked so sweetly he bit his lip and closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them again, they were dark and full of lust.

“We’ll finish with the frog pose then. On your knees.” You got on your knees for Changbin immediately and he smiled warmly.

“Good, you’re so good, listening and doing exactly what I say.” You nodded, eyes wide, and waited for his instructions again.

“Spread them apart,” Changbin’s hand slid between your thighs just barely grazing your cunt as he pushed your legs apart wide.

“Yes, just like that. Now bend over and rest your weight on your forearms, shoulder width apart with your hands flat.” You got into position like he said and when you did your back arched and your ass was pushed out. Changbin bit his lip again.

“Fuck.” He whispered as he grabbed your hips and helped push your forward. When he pulled you back against his cock and you rubbed and squeezed your ass against him, he couldn’t take it anymore. Changbin gripped the fabric of your leggings and ripped them apart exposing your ass and glistening cunt. You let out a little squeal in surprise. When you felt Changbin’s warm hands on your bare ass rubbing, kneading, spreading you open, you leaned back into his touch.

“God damn beautiful, this poor pussy has been so neglected hasn’t it.” You nodded, every drag of his fingers over your skin setting you on fire.

“Fuck yes Binnie, it needs fucked, filled, will you fill it for me Bin?” Changbin leaned forward spreading you open again. Spit dripped from his lips onto your asshole, dripping down your cunt before he started rubbing it up and down your folds with two of his fingers.

“I’ll fill you up gorgeous but first...” He laid down on his back, his head right under your juicy pussy.

“First you’re gonna sit on my face.” You were about to argue that but before you could Changbin’s tongue invaded your folds and he pulled you down on his face groaning into your cunt, a vibration that buzzed through your whole body when he did.

“Fuck Binnie! Oh my god! Don’t stop!” Changbin shook his head as he continued to suck and slurp on your clit pulling you to sit further on his face. You started grinding on him chasing the orgasm you were so close to already.

“I’m... FUCK... I’m gonna cum Bin. You’re gonna... gonna make me...” The grunts of satisfaction that came from Changbin pushed you over the edge. You came on Changbin’s face and tongue, him guiding your hips as you rode out your climax as long as possible. You leaned forward still perched up on your knees, ass in the air as Changbin slid out from under you.

He took his shirt off and wiped his face with it before tossing it aside. He leaned over to where he had tossed his duffle bag earlier and pulled out a condom. He pulled his shorts and boxer briefs down enough to free his rock-hard cock, tore open the rapper and rolled the latex over his tip and down his shaft.

“Are you ready baby?” You propped yourself back up on your elbows and nodded, biting your lip.

“Yes Bin! God FUCK me! PLEASE!” The way Changbin’s cock slid in to your warm wet pussy so easily made his toes curl.

“FUCK you are so tight! God damn!” Changbin got himself together and pulled out before pushing back into you hard and fast.

“OOOOH! Binnie! FUCK! Right there! Hard! Fuck me hard right there!!” Changbin pulled out and pushed into you hard again, this time pulling your ass back against his hips, making you scream for him.

“Yesyesyesyes! Fuckfuck right there yes harder Bin fuck yes!” He started fucking you faster, harder, pulling you back into his thrusts every time. He nudged your legs apart wider and pressed you down a bit.

“God damn beautiful you’re taking my cock so well! Such a good girl, spread your legs a bit more, yea like that baby, now down on your belly, yes fuck!” He rammed into you harder.

“So fucking deep! Just like that! Now lay there and get fucked like a good girl.” Changbin pressed your hips down as he fucked you as deep as he could, giving you hard unforgiving thrusts that pushed you up the mat each time.

“Yes Binnie, fuck my pussy, FUCK YES!” You came around Changbin’s cock as you screamed the only words you could form, his name.

"CH-chang-bin! Chan-g-bin! Binbinbin-binnie!! YES!” Changbin didn’t stop, he kept fucking you hard and fast trying to find his release now.

“Fuck y/n I’m gonna cum! Wanna cum all over your ass beautiful.” He spread your ass cheeks and watched his cock disappear inside you again and again.

“Can I huh? Can I blow all over your ass baby.” You groaned out in absolute ecstasy still coming on the dick hammering into your cunt, begging to paint you with cum.

“Yeeeees! Fuck yessss!! Cum all over me!” You didn’t think it was possible but Changbin started fucking your faster your pussy trembling in overstimulation. As he was about to reach his climax Changbin pulled out, pulled off and tossed the condom. He spread your ass apart spit on your ass hole again and pressed his cock against it rutting his cock between your ass cheeks until his thick, milky cum started to pool from his slit then shoot, streaking across your back and ass, dripping.

“Uhhh... fuck... ohhh fuck I’m coming baby fuck!” Changbin rubbed his cock through your cum covered ass crack before leaning over you, pushing your ponytail out of the way kissing your neck and shoulders, pressing his body against yours. He nuzzled his nose into your neck and it tickled, making you laugh. He rolled onto his back and looked over at you smiling, his eyes half closed and body still buzzing from his orgasm.

@jquellen27 @caroline-ds-world @ughbehavior @chansynie @hyunelixies @j-0ne25

“I think we should discuss considering some at home pro bono sessions, don’t you?”

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

#stray kids smut #skz smut #seo changbin smut #changbin smut #skz317cb97 thick reader series #skz317cb97 #cal 🖤

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dangermousie · 1 year

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Farscape rewatch 2x04: Crackers Don’t Matter

One of my favorite eps and the most quoted one in the Mousie household.

You know what I am struck by, this time? How crazily Farscape works. I am faced with the next to last scenes of this ep: John with green face-make-up, shiny cover, attacking a bug-looking alien with a sword as it gibbers, screaming 'humans are superior' and marvelling at the fact that somehow, it all works. How crazy is it? It works, works brilliantly. Farscape took some odd risks, some strange choices, but IMO, they almost always worked out.

And the way the humor (and this episode is bona fide hilarious) can coexist with cruelty and darkness because the ways the Moyans turn on each other is just vicious and what makes it horrible is that it’s their darkest ids, worst selves exposed - so it is them, even if the worst version of them.

And they have to live with it, with all the stuff they said and did, no easy solutions...

This is long and cap-heavy so behind read more...

I am also struck by how tight the writing is. It's obviously an organic show: it didn't have every plot detail worked out years in advance. But when things come up, they get so incorporated for later, they get brought up again, it all just fits. Just think of the little throw-away comment by Maldis in S1 that John lost his virginity to Karen Shaw, and how it comes to play in Kansas in S4. Why am I thinking of this for this ep? It's the fact that here is Harvey (his very first appearance), telling John that revenge is a dish best served cold, his whole attitude, his whole statement is so in line with the whole late S3 ep 'Revenging Angel' which echoes it so well. In RA Harvey fails to understand what makes John tick, what makes him stay alive: he is limited by his creator Scorpius. He fails to realize that what keeps John alive is hope and that for John, Aeryn is hope. (That is why chip!John in Scorpy's head in Incubator is so intractable, so final: he is post-loss-of-Aeryn, he really has nothing). What Scorpy fails in (and by extension Harvey) is to understand John on a very basic level: they don't really fit, like two odd pieces of a puzzle. Grayza of course makes the same mistake on Arnessk. It's going to sound corny, but Scorpy fails to understand goodness (not surprising considering his upbringing) while John has one-up on his opponent because he understands evil, because his face has been rubbed into it until it's raw.

I kept thinking, why is John the least affected by Traltixx in this ep? I am sure the eyesight has something to do with it (I love how Farscape turns on its head the old trope of humans being saviors because they are better. Crichton is 'better' because he is handicapped, because he doesn't see so well). But I think there are other issues here: for one thing, Crichton is a researcher, someone who must be analytical by nature. More importantly, he is attuned to oddness not just because of his post-Scorpy paranoia but because he is a stranger in a strange land, sensitized. And the thing is, just as with the chip later - knowing something is off is different from being able to put breaks on it. He periodically, alone among the rest of them, realizes something is wrong with his behavior but he is unable to truly stop it - the ugliness and the violence just come pouring out; the only concession to control is that he doesn’t kill anyone. The crew is horrifically ugly to each other in this one, but the ep is also mind-blowingly hilarious. Not like Out of their Minds, which is just plain funny. This one is funny with a hell of a sting. Some pretty bad things are said. I am struck not even as much by the Aeryn-John showdown (they know each other the best, so they really know where to hurt. Though I am still wondering how you can be both frigid and a skank :)) but I think it's because Aeryn and John cause each other such universes of pain, exactly when they are not trying to, but only trying to protect themselves or even do what is best for the other, that this is small fry. What is a little exchange of gunfire and a hit at Aeryn's being a traitor or John not measuring up to his father in comparison with Die Me Dichotomy or the coin toss or so much of late S3 or S4? Still, ouch ouch ouch.

What I am really struck by are other interactions: D'Argo with Rygel, flopping the little guy around like...well, a puppet, force-feeding him crackers. It's ugly. We haven't seen D'Argo attack a helpless being since DNA Mad Scientist, and we've forgotten, and it hurts. Though it does show a difference: here it's Traltixx doing an equivalent of drugging him. The inner savage is much further from the surface. The crew from early S1 would have succumbed to Traltixx in ten minutes flat.

And keeping with the fact that actions always have consequences, there is no magic forgiveness at the end (though also like Farscape, there is hope of one later.)

And Crichton with Chiana. It's an unnerving scene, horrible to watch, precisely because normally John is so protective of her, because for Chiana, John is in many ways her safe harbor, her surrogate big brother, someone who she would always feel safe in the area of sex with (i.e. he won't, with her). But he turns that protection on its head, something ugly (though luckily, a bunch of the horrible stuff comes from Harvey, not John, so she doesn't hear it).

Yikes.

Pretty telling tho that even messed with by Traltixx, any sexual threat is not from John but is suggestion of the chip, which is doing whatever to get Crichton to kill his shipmates so he’d be easier to capture. John himself is horrifyingly cruel but does not see Chiana this way at all.

The idea he ends up liking is tying her up next to the rest of them so he could try to talk without everyone shooting each other, not anything else and thank GOD.

This is such a reversal of his attitude in Taking the Stone so I think it's interesting that the attitudes in here and TtS are juxtaposed (in TtS Crichton is losing it a bit, slowly, but it makes him more protective, not less. That is the natural 'insane' Crichton, not the one where someone took over and brought out the darkest id; when he is himself, however utterly mad and irrational, he is never wantonly cruel to his loved ones.) And then of course, later, when he is back to sanity and tries to apologize, she blows it off, acts impressed. Chiana is queen of repression in some ways, however open she is in others.

You know, there is another reason why Crichton was the one to pull it together. (And no, I am not just referring to stubborness). He already has that edge of insanity to him and it's growing slowly larger. So has he figured out how to cope under weirdness while maintaining some control? He's had to persevere through some horrid stuff and had his head messed up with, so he can temporarily put aside distractions. But the thing is - this is only the start of Scorpius messing with his head. He can fight it on the margins for now (Harvey the Chip clearly wants him to kill everyone so he can be captured easier) but he can fight it even under the stress but we all know how it ends...

Oh yes!

He tries to tell Aeryn about seeing Scorpius but she’s also affected by the light and pays no attention and even John himself assumes it was some of the stuff Traltixx did (and I believe when they first had Scorpy show it was supposed to be a one off, not a chip) and oh boy, the misery that is going to eventually follow.

(the little correction she makes, heeeee...)

Oh boy, and eventually he will make you do that and this will be one of the worst moments of your life.

The thing is - having your mind hijacked is horrible but long before that happens to any significant degree, the layers of horror of it all are there because it’s not just John thinking he’s losing his mind and having his mind sorted through and controlled; it’s the fact that he now lives with the constant presence of his chief torturer in his head - it’s a somewhat literal metaphor for aftereffects of torture yes but also there is the sheer body horror of it which is incredible.

Yikes...

Side note - the ugliness with John and D’Argo bothers me least because they are evenly matched but also it’s pure physical violence, no emotional cruelty involved.

Also, cool bit of foreshadowing, Chiana aligning with D'Argo here but also, the way Aeryn and John still want to jump each other in this little scene tho they were shooting at each other and have not too much rationality. Heh.

God, those two must have some truly spectacular sex once they finally get to it.

Oh, and the sheer unhinged anything goes vibe of this is so perfect. I don’t know how they manage.

And of course Zhaan just spending the whole episode orgasming and show making no bones about it - I love how just genuinely out there the show was.

Just wild...

Crichton barreling through insanity to save the day but everyone emerging a little or a lot worse for wear is a lot of the modus operandi of this show and this episode really distills it down so concisely in the most gloriously insane way.

#farscape

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lovelaurs · 3 months

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Please do it I would love to read a fic about freaking Laurence getting his glass prescription or something like that. ( also i head cannon laur has such bad vision and he has to wear grandpa glasses)

AN EYE FOR DETAIL

featuring : laurance, cadenza, & castor synopsis : cadenza convinces laurance to finally get glasses. but when they arrive for his appointment, something seems a bit off about this optometrist. tags : poor eyesight laurance, eye care, getting glasses, silly shenanigans, traumatized forever word count : 1.3k a/n : as someone who has incredibly bad eyesight and refused to wear my glasses for years, i figured, "hey, why don't i project my issues onto laurance?". well, that's what i did. the man has poor eyesight now. enjoy!

MASTERLIST

“I’m not wearing them, Cadenza!”

Laurance yelled, staring daggers at the pair of glasses within his sister’s hands.

“I mean- just look at it! It’s practically a relic!”

The glasses in question were his Grandfather’s; as they were very ancient looking in appearance. A lot was simply wrong about these spectacles: a slight crack had formed on the left lens, along with the hinges being extremely loose, and not to mention the thing just overall looking like it was from the 1960s.

In short? They sucked.

“Look, Laurance. I wouldn’t have to force you to wear these if you simply just, oh I don’t know, went to the eye doctor?” Cadenza put her hands on her hips, raising her eyebrow at the brunette.

Laurance twitched at the thought.

The eye doctor? Like hell he was going to the Optometrist!

Ever since he got pink eye when he was younger after playing with the pigs on his farm, he had always been afraid of the optometrist.

When he went in initially for a consultation all those years ago; the tools, lenses, and prescriptions freaked him out. Of course, he only needed eyedrops, so he wasn’t in dire need for any specific treatment, but still… The very idea of it horrified the poor man.

His eyes had always been sensitive.

The smallest eyelash, a drop of water, the slightest amount of soap from the shower; any of these things would easily bring the man to his knees in defeat. Hell, even seeing blurry or smudges through glasses would make his eyes water.

He was pretty vulnerable.

That is why this man downright refused to get his eyes checked.

The concept of looking through a possibly blurry lens just sends chills up his spine. Even though the action was needed to help prescribe the exact lenses he needed to see better, he just couldn’t bear it.

“I just- I can’t go, alright! That place freaks me out!” Laurance crossed his arms, raising his head in defiance.

Cadenza sighed, pulling out her phone. “If you don’t come with me to get glasses… I’ll text our dads to not allow you to babysit Caleb for a month.”

Laurance gasped dramatically, bringing a hand to his chest. “You wouldn’t dare.”

She flipped her phone over to Laurance, showing him the already typed out message she planned to send to Joh and Hayden. “Try me.”

Within the next hour, the two scheduled an appointment.

About a month later, Laurance was nervously pacing on the sidewalk outside a building named “Castor’s Eye Care”.

The brunette began to bite his nails nervously as Cadenza grabbed her purse from the car, rolling her eyes. She closed the car door behind her before walking up to her brother, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Relax, Laurance. It’ll be fine.”

“You’ll stay with me the whole time, right?”

At that, Cadenza winced. “Well… um…”

Laurance’s eyes widened before he covered his face with his hands. “Oh Irene, you’re leaving me.”

She released his shoulder, shaking her hands. “No, not at all! I’ll still be in the building with you, but I need to get my own reading glasses repaired.”

She started to walk towards the door, until she turned around to find Laurance standing in the same spot.

“Clock’s ticking, Laurance. Come on!” She looped her arm through his and dragged him along as he groaned.

As they stepped into the bright building, Laurance was immediately overwhelmed by just how many pairs of glasses there were across the walls.

Laurance looked around, his nerves starting to get to him, while Cadenza approached the desk to check them in. The generic pop music playing over the speakers was not helping in the slightest

After making sure they were ready for their appointments, Cadenza sat down on the bench by the window and patted the other side, silently asking Laurance to join her.

He sat down beside her, his leg shaking up and down as he kept his eyes focused on the door. Something in the back of his mind wished that the hinges would break, causing it to shut tight forever.

He never wanted to see beyond that very door.

Unfortunately, life seemed to always go against the poor brunette, as the door swiftly opened to reveal an older man with frizzled hair and a bandana. He looked around, almost confused, before his eyes landed on Laurance.

The man pointed at Laurance sternly, then motioned for him to come over.

Laurance nervously looked at Cadenza who nodded and pushed him out of the chair, causing Laurance to stumble forward. She smiled, speaking through her teeth, “Get your ass in there now or so help me, Laurance.”

With that, Laurance quickly made his way over to the curious looking optometrist, following him into the room.

The man motioned for him to sit on the chair, to which Laurance quietly complied; adjusting onto the leather chair with frantic nerves.

What didn’t help his anxiety were the countless pictures of chickens across the room’s walls.

Why were there so many chickens?

As the somewhat odd man began funneling through the cabinets, seeming to be looking for something, Laurance thought it best to break the tension with some small talk.

“So… how long have you been an eye doctor for?” He asked. He winced at the feedback that came from the song Toxic by Britney Spears playing obnoxiously through the telecom above.

“Ah, well, only a few weeks! Can you believe how easy it is to get a license in this sort of thing- aha found it!”

What.

As it seemed the man found the tool he was looking for, he whipped around to face Laurance with it in hand.

He was going to die here, wasn’t he?

Laurance tugged at his collar nervously, his leg continuing to bounce. “Wow that’s uh… certainly fast, Mr…?”

“Mr. Castor!”

Oh gods.

The building was named Castor’s Eye Care… this newly graduated doctor had finished his lessons and rented out a building all within the same month.

Laurance silently repeated prayers to Irene in his head as Castor approached, mysterious tool in hand. His eyes seemed to focus too bluntly on the object as Castor followed his line of sight to it. He quickly averted his eyes to one of the many pictures of chickens hanging about.

“Ah, this old thing?” He motioned at the tool. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing to fear! I’ve only been officially certified for a few weeks, but I’ve been doing this sort of thing in the Black Market for years!”

Black Market?! Who the hell allowed this guy to start a business?!

“Now, let’s take a look at those pretty green eyes of yours, shall we?”

His eyes were blue. He couldn’t even tell the color of his eyes– oh my Irene he was done for.

About an hour later, an absolutely horrified Laurance walked out of the room, his eyes blown wide in horror, red veins visible as Dr. Castor gave him a pat on the back.

“You did very well, Laurance! I can’t wait to see you back here to pick up your glasses in a few weeks!”

He has to come back?!

Laurance awkwardly laughed loudly, backing away while giving finger guns to the man. “G-Great! Can’t wait!”

The brunette quickly turned around, his eyes landing on Cadenza who was waiting by the bench, waving. She stood up and put her new glasses case in her purse before approaching Laurance.

“Ah, Laurance! You’re finally done! How was it-”

Without a second thought, Laurance pulled her by the arm and quickly raced out the store.

When the two made it to their car, Laurance had his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

“Laurance? What’s wrong?”

“Britney Spears. Chickens. Black Market. Crazy.” He panted out the words, taking long pauses between each one. He quickly raised his head, looking Cadenza dead in the eyes.

“I’m never going back there again.”

@lovelaurs, 2024. do not repost this work in any way!

#lovelaurs fics #lovelaurs inbox #laurance zvahl #cadenza zvahl #castor the chicken shaman #mystreet laurance #mystreet cadenza #mystreet #mystreet castor

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