#it ends up being like 2800

[fortyfive-forty]

now here's a question do i do a super short chapter quicker or a super long chapter slower

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 1 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Bob is happy for his friends, but feeling like the fifth wheel every weekend has gotten old. Anna's main goal is to fly under the radar as she starts work at San Diego State University with her shiny, new graduate degree. She is convinced that the only company she needs is her own, but a specific flyer in the faculty lounge catches her interest.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Bob hated it when Natasha was deployed without him. He always ended up feeling like the fifth wheel now that Bradley was married and Jake was dating Jessica. Well, both of those were actually understatements. Bradley was devoted to his wife, and Jake was soppy now that Jessica moved in with him. And Bob's feelings on the matter were never more evident than on nights out at the Hard Deck. 

Without fail, a girl or two or three would hit on one of the other guys, and they would deftly try to pawn said girl off on Bob only for the girl to look rather disappointed and kind of wander away. He just had that effect on women. He was a lot better with the written word than with the spoken, and something just didn't translate well for him when he was met face-to-face with an intriguing smile and an attractive body.

He groaned as he watched another woman head off in the direction of the bar as soon as he nervously stumbled his way through a sentence where he tried to introduce himself. How exactly was he supposed to compete with Jake Seresin anyway? Nobody who originally wanted him was going to settle for Bob. 

"I got you more peanuts." Bob looked up to see Bradshaw's wife smiling at him and holding out a cup. Ever since he visited Chippy's bar, he didn't want to admit to Penny that hers weren't quite as good, but if someone went out of their way to bring him a cup full, he was going to eat them. And it was also nice of her to make sure he was included tonight while Mickey was babysitting his nephews.

"Thank you," he replied softly, and she patted his shoulder.

"I saw you talking to that girl?" she asked, nodding her head toward the bar. "She's really cute."

Bob shook his head as he looked down at his ginger ale. "I mean, yes, she was very pretty, but I wasn't really talking to her. She didn't want to talk to me, actually." He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as he looked up at her from his stool. "She wanted to talk to Jake."

She rolled her eyes, and Bob kept his fingers occupied by cracking open a peanut. He craved the familiar intimacy he saw when he looked at his friends and their partners. Maybe jealousy wasn't the right word, but he always felt left out of the loop. They all knew something he didn't, and he craved to be on the inside with someone of his own.

"I'd choose you over Jake any day, Bob. You're smart, and I like talking to you."

He smiled at her as he said, "That may be the case, but you'd choose Bradley over me."

"You got me there," she said with a laugh as she kissed his cheek, making him avert his eyes to the floor. "I'm probably not the best judge of character though."

Bob looked toward where she was smiling now and saw Bradley with his hideous tie dye shirt and idiotic looking backwards baseball cap as Jessica slaughtered him in a game of pool. "Yes, you are," Bob told her quietly. Because as soon as Bradley looked at his wife, his expression became one of complete wonder. 

"Sugar! Come here! Jessica is being mean to me again!"

She squeezed Bob's shoulder and then took him by the hand, bringing him along with her to the pool table. He blushed again as he looked a little nervously at Bradley, but everyone knew Bob was harmless. He was the one just drinking a ginger ale since he had to drive home.

"Baby," Bradley whined. "She won't even let me try to make a shot."

"That's not her being mean to you. That's her being better than you," his wife replied. "And what's the moral of the story again?"

"Women should never be underestimated," Bradley and Jake said in unison.

"That's right," Jessica said as she sunk the 8-ball into one of the corner pockets. "Especially ones who have a PhD and tenure." She handed her pool cue to Bradley and did a little dance. Then she reached into Bob's cup of peanuts and said, "Chippy's are better."

"They are," he agreed with a nod and a grin. He cleared his throat as Bradshaw's wife finally dropped his hand. "So I heard the new semester starts on Monday?"

"Yes," Jessica gushed as she fixed her glasses. "And Brian took a position at the community college, so this should be my best semester yet."

Bob already knew that Jake was relieved that his girlfriend would be going to work in a more comfortable environment every day, but it was nice to see how excited she was. 

"You know what I was thinking?" Jessica asked Bradshaw's wife quietly. Bob wondered if he should step away and give them some privacy, but they both kept helping themselves to the cup of peanuts. "Maybe we could put something up on the notice board in the main building, kind of inviting the other female teachers at the school to have lunch together one day? I felt so embarrassed and excluded from things because of Brian, I just thought it might be nice for anyone else who feels marginalized?"

Bradley's wife nodded. "I think that's a great idea."

Bob listened to them for a few more minutes before he wished them good luck as they started back to school for the fall term, and then he excused himself for the night. He stood outside in the dark parking lot for a few minutes and listened to the sound of the ocean before he climbed into his truck and headed for his silent house. 

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

"Dr. Webber."

Anna looked at the name placard on her office door and bounced up and down. "Dr. Webber," she read out loud again. She had the worst office on campus, no doubt about that. It was miniscule and kind of smelled like stale bread since it was so close to the cafeteria, but she loved it. All of the shelves were crammed with her books, and she could lock the rest of the world out when she needed a minute to herself. She just hoped that the tiny office wasn't a sign of bad things to come after San Diego State University willingly hired her less than a month before the start of the term.

In a matter of eight weeks, she had finally- finally- graduated with her PhD in English Literature and secured a job on the other side of the country. She sold everything she could think of, including her rings, and moved from gloomy New Jersey to a studio apartment in sunny southern California. Sure, all she had in her kitchen was a toaster oven and a mini fridge, but she was on her own. She had nobody to answer to. And she never would again.

"I guess everything is smaller here," Anna told herself as she locked her office door and went in search of the classroom where she would be holding the first lecture of her teaching career. She was too early for the class, but she was filled with nervous energy and decided that walking around would help. 

She looked in classrooms and listened to a poetry lecture on the third floor. She found a really secluded ladies' bathroom as well as a reading nook. Eventually, she and her copy of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn managed to wander all the way to the main building where she found a faculty lounge.

It smelled like coffee, and there were snacks out on the counter, and everyone was talking in pairs or small groups. She should probably get to know her colleagues, but she also didn't mind the anonymity that came with observing everyone without engaging. She was good at that, and she'd spend too much time around people who needed to be in the spotlight all the time. As she reached for a donut with pink frosting, she saw a notice board across the room and went to take a look. 

The hum of conversation around her was comforting as she read about a yoga class in the quad, alumni night, and a teacher appreciation banquet. Then her eyes caught on a single piece of paper with a plain black font. It wasn't flashy, and somehow it reminded her of a page from a favorite book.

WELCOME BACK FOR THE FALL SEMESTER, LADIES!

If you're interested in getting to know some other women who work on campus, let's meet for a friendly lunch on the first Tuesday of the term! Noon in the quad next to the weird tree.

Anna laughed. She knew where the quad was, but she wasn't sure which tree was the weird one. They actually all seemed a bit out of place to her since she wasn't used to living near palm trees. She started to skim a notice about how to recycle old textbooks, but she didn't get far before she was re-reading the one about meeting up for lunch. 

If it was truly meant just for women, then it sounded kind of nice. She could eat her sandwich outside. She liked weird trees. The idea of having zero men around made it even more appealing. The last thing she wanted was to develop an interest in anyone right now. Or maybe ever again. 

She took out her phone and snapped a picture of the page before checking the time and leaving with her donut. Twenty minutes later, with her class assembled before her in a small lecture hall, she cleared her throat and said, "Welcome to English 205. I'm Dr. Webber, and this semester we will be covering the classics."

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

"You can do this. You'll be fine," Anna said as she walked slowly across the quad toward a palm tree that looked like it somehow started growing sideways about six feet up from the ground. "It's just some people."

But she wasn't good with people. Kevin had been quick to tell her that all the time. He liked to point out that she was awkward unless she was talking about literature or poetry or something from the New York Times bestseller list. Apparently she didn't know how to talk about normal things. Her hands started to sweat as she held onto her brown paper bag and can of ginger ale. 

"Oh god," she groaned as she got a little closer. Truly, there was nothing to be afraid of. It was just two women smiling as they talked to each other with their lunches. But they were both beautiful. Like the kind of stunning girls that Anna was always afraid to talk to when she was a teenager. One was wearing a suit and high heels, and the other was wearing cute brown loafers and some tweed, and she felt like her own outfit looked awful now by comparison. 

It wasn't too late to just walk past them and loop back toward her office and never try to socialize again. "Yes, let's do that." She nodded and picked up the pace a little bit. She could turn left at the weird tree and then maybe even make a run for it. "What are you doing?" she whispered, slowing down again. It was one thing to swear off men, but it wasn't going to be an enjoyable existence if she never tried to make a single friend here.

With a deep breath, she forced herself forward, and then soon two sets of eyes were on her. All she saw was matching smiles as she approached and said, "Hi. I'm Anna Webber. Is this the weird tree?"

"It's the weirdest tree I've ever seen," said the first woman as the other one jumped to her feet. 

"Hi! Are you here for lunch?" she asked as she adjusted her glasses. "I told you someone would come," she whispered to the first woman before sticking her hand out. "I'm Jessica Reed! I work in the physics department, and this is my friend, and we are so, so happy you're joining us."

Anna smiled at how bubbly she was as she briefly shook her hand. "I just got here," she said with a wince. "I mean... it's my second day working here? I just got hired. In the English department. I'm teaching literature." God, could she sound like any more of an idiot right now?

But Jessica gasped in response. "Advanced Literature!" Then both women squealed, and soon the other one was introducing herself and talking about the math department and pointing out a building Anna had never been inside yet.

"It's silly, we know, but we kind of have code names for each other. I'm Advanced Calculus, and Jessica is Advanced Physics. You can be Advanced Literature. If you want." Now she looked a little uncertain while Jessica bounced in her high heels. "Wow, we sound like absolute nerds."

"We are nerds," Jessica confirmed with no shame as she looked at Anna. "I collect scientific journals. She uses math as foreplay with her husband. Do you want to eat lunch with us, Anna?"

Her response came with an ease that she hadn't felt in a long time. "Yes. Please." Then both women were shifting their lunches down and making room in the middle of the bench. Anna took a seat and watched Advanced Calculus pick a carrot stick out of the most beautifully organized lunch container she'd ever seen. She also had a tie dyed lunch box that was charming in a hideous way.

"How's your first week going?" Jessica asked as she bit into a delicious looking sandwich on fancy, multigrain bread. Anna knew she didn't fit in here at all as she pulled a plain turkey sandwich and some peanuts from her bag, but it was all she could afford right now. 

"Well," she said with a sigh. "It's better than New Jersey."

Both women squealed again. "You're from the east coast!"

"Yeah," she replied as she opened her ginger ale. "I grew up in New Jersey. I went to college and grad school in New Jersey. I attempted to move to New York, and then somehow I ended up here." She left out the heartbreaking parts about Kevin, because he didn't really belong in a conversation where she was surprisingly kind of enjoying herself. 

She learned the two women were from Massachusetts and Virginia, and that they both had PhDs from prestigious universities. They were both in committed relationships with naval aviators who also happened to work together. And both of the men loved packing their ladies lunches. 

"Lucky," Anna muttered as she popped a peanut into her mouth and thought about the kitchen in her studio apartment. It was so small, it almost didn't exist. She was almost thirty and essentially still lived in a dormitory. How sad.

"Hey," Jessica said suddenly. "If you like peanuts, you'd probably love Chippy's!"

"What's Chippy's?" Anna asked curiously.

"Eww, no. Don't listen to Jess. Chippy's is a disgusting dive bar on the other side of campus."

"It's not disgusting! He just doesn't clean the floor."

Anna laughed. "I actually do love peanuts, but I'm not a big drinker." Then both women silently studied her, and she could feel heat rising in her cheeks. She'd said something wrong already. Of course things couldn't be this easy.

"Huh. You like ginger ale," said Advanced Calculus as she sat paused with a carrot stick halfway to her mouth.

Anna nodded as she said, "My... well, a guy I know used to make fun of me for being a ginger and loving ginger ale." She gestured to her auburn hair which was clipped up at the back of her head. 

"Are you married? Or in a relationship?" she asked, and she finally bit into the carrot. 

Anna didn't even have a chance to reply as Advanced Physics gasped on her other side. "You like peanuts. And ginger ale. How do you feel about men with glasses?"

"How do you feel about men with greenish blue eyes?" 

"How do you feel about sweet men who blush?"

"Would you ever date a guy in the Navy?"

"Are you fond of beat up pickup trucks and country boys?"

"Do you want to come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"

Anna was starting to get whiplash as she looked back and forth between the two of them. "Wait, I'm sorry. What? I thought we were talking about a place called Chippy's?"

"We were. But now we're talking about a man called Bob."

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

Omg omg omg. Okay, here we are with a story for our lovable Bob. Thanks for reading about the Sugarverse. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

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[slaybestieslay946]

HIIIII OMG IM THE ONE WHO REQUESTED THE READER JOINS LUKE AND I JUST WANTED TO SAY THAT WAS SO GOOD I LOVE IT SOSO MUCH THANK YOUUU

if it's not much can i request something else? like a 5+1 thing where it's like 5 times luke and reader didn't realize they were acting like a couple, and one time reaized it and made it official!

THIS IS SUCH A CUTE REQ SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG IVE BEEN SOOO BUSY AND I RLLY WANTED TO GET THIS ONE PERFECT.

I sorta changed it a bit so Luke is down bad and reader is the one who doesn't realise they were acting like a couple.

You Didn't Realise?!

MASTERLIST

summary: 5 ways Luke acts like your boyfriend, and the one reason you realised and made it official

word count: 2800

pairing: luke castellan x apollo!reader

warnings: minor swearing

I : He always looks for you first

When Luke returned from his quest, bloodied and battered, stumbling down half blood hill with a scar down his face, you were the first one he looked for. 

He quickly spotted you, your hair shining in the sun. The sun always found you, like a magnetic tether, a trait inherited from your father. 

In some ways, Luke could relate. He too also felt constantly drawn to you, and as soon as he caught sight of your face, all the humiliation from failing his quest melted away. 

You were laughing with one of your half-siblings, playfully joking like you always did. And then your sibling nudged you, pointing up at Luke, and the smile dropped. Even in his dazed state, he noticed the way your face contorted in worry as you began to sprint up the hill towards him. 

He wanted to wipe the sad expression away and replace it with the bright smile you usually sported. 

You continued towards him, only slowing from your sprint when you were just metres away, coming to a stop directly in front of him. 

Immediately, you took his face in your hands, inspecting the slight cuts and bruises that covered it. 

“Not even gonna say hello?” He panted, suddenly out of breath, partly from his general exhaustion, and partly from the way you were holding his face. 

“Hello Luke. Now tell me where it hurts.” You asked, moving your hands away from his face and running them down his sides, carefully watching his reaction to the pressure. 

“Nothing hurts. I’m all good, Doc.” He chuckled to mask his wince as you skimmed over the patchwork of bruises. 

“Like hell you are. We’re getting you to the infirmary. Where are Beckendorf and Rodriguez?” You asked, wrapping a hand around his shoulder to help him down the hill. 

“Just comin’.” Luke said, jerking his head back in the direction he had just come from, and when you looked back for yourself, you could see the other two boys at the top of the hill, looking in significantly better shape than he did. 

“Alright. C’mon then, we gotta get you patched up.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He answered, the same dazed smile 

“You’ll be the death of me one day, y’know that?” 

“Mhm.” 

And as the rest of the camp looked on at the pair of you, they couldn’t help but wonder, when would you finally get together?

II : He always saves you dessert

Luke watched as you walked into the dining pavilion late, and as usual there was a patched up camper trailing behind you. 

You turned to give the boy a stern talking to, more than likely chastising him for being injured in the first place, before striding up to collect your food. 

Of course, when you turned up 20 minutes late to dinner, the dessert options became severely limited, and by the time you arrived there was no cake left, only a few pots of yoghurt made from the strawberries in the field. 

Luke watched as you screwed your nose up in disgust. You hated yoghurt, he knew that (obviously). 

You sighed, cutting your losses and retreating to the apollo table, a few end slices of bread and salad items being the only things on your plate. 

“Hey man, how’d you get an extra portion?” Chris asked from beside Luke, and he snapped his gaze away from you and back to his brother. 

“Oh, yeah, it’s for Y/N.” 

Chris rolled his eyes, “Of course it is. You gonna give it to her, or are you just gonna sit here staring?” 

“Shut up.” 

“Y’know I’m right.” 

“You’ll be right when you admit you love staring at Clarisse in capture the flag.” Luke replied quickly, standing up to walk over to you. 

Chris mumbled something slightly incoherent, but Luke didn’t pay him any mind as he strode towards the Apollo table, plate in hand. 

“Hey. Long day?” He asked, smirking at you while holding the plate behind his back so you couldn’t see it. 

“Ugh, you have no idea Castellan. And I missed dessert again! Can you believe that?” You complained loudly, waving your crust of bread around like you were conducting an orchestra.

“Hmm, sounds rough. Lucky for you, someone saved you an extra portion.” He dramatically produced the plate from behind his back, revealing the extra large slice of cake he’d stolen from one of the nymphs. 

You gasped in delight as he placed it before you, “Thank you!” 

Luke couldn’t help but grin as well as you tore into it with glee, “Well, I know vanilla's your favourite, couldn’t have you missing out, could we?”

You sighed, “You’re the best.” 

“I know,” He preened before softening his voice slightly, “Just don’t overwork yourself, ‘kay?” 

“Alright. That goes for you too, hero.” You bargained, gazing at him intensely.

“Whatever you say, Doc.” He smirked, before turning around and leaving you to it. 

You continued eating your slice of cake, unable to fight away the bright grin that invaded your face. 

“You two are disgusting.” Will Solace remarked, the similar smile on his face not matching the tone of his words. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You- He- Ugh! You’re so hopeless!” 

III : He always calls you up for demonstrations

“Hmm, I need someone to demonstrate…” He pondered out loud, surveying the archery range for someone suitable. And, as usual, Luke’s eyes were magnetically drawn to you as you walked past his group of students. 

“And who better than my favourite daughter of Apollo! Hey, Y/N, c'mere a sec!” 

You spun around to work out who was calling you over, rolling your eyes fondly as you realised it was the son of Hermes, as usual. 

“What do you need now, Castellan?” You asked, striding over to the group. 

“Just a quick demonstration from the best archer in camp.” 

You sighed yet again, but gave in, just like you always did when he was involved. 

“Fine.” 

“Great! Now, kids, let's see how a professional does it.” 

Luke then led the group around so they were parallel to you, and they could inspect your form as you fired. 

You held up your bow, removing an arrow from the quiver slung around your shoulder and notching it into position all in one fluid movement.

“See, look how good her form is. Perfect posture. One foot forward, torso turned to the side,” Luke whispered, as if narrating a nature documentary for national geographic, “She pulls the string back to her cheek, breathes in, and releases!” He cried, and you did just that, sending the arrow flying into the centre of the target. 

“A perfect shot.” Luke declared, smiling at you in pride. 

You shrugged, “I never miss.” 

“Alright kids, have a go yourselves, see if you can replicate Y/N’s form!” He said, sending them all rushing forwards to collect bows and have a go for themselves on the archery range. 

“You need any more help? Or am I free to go?” You asked teasingly, placing the bow and quiver back in the right spot.

“Hm, I suppose you're done. Although, your posture could use a little work.”

“Oh, I thought it was perfect?” 

“Did I say that?” He mused, although he was unable to hide the amusement in his eyes. 

“Bye Castellan.” You sang, flicking his shoulder as you walked past him. 

He turned around to watch you walk away, a tinge of blush coating his cheeks. 

“Is she your girlfriend?” A small voice piped up from beside him, and he turned to see that one of the kids he was teaching hadn’t yet begun archery. 

“No!” He said, all too quickly, before ushering the girl towards the bows. 

VI : He’s always watching you work

“Ok, so, you’re going to need to keep an eye on that cut alright? And try not to get any mud in it this time, we don’t want it getting infected again, do we?”

The kid you were currently treating nodded vigorously, probably thinking that the more engaged he seemed the faster he would escape the infirmary. 

“Alright, you can go back to training now.” You sighed, silently praying that the young Ares boy would at least try and be gentle on the lines of stitching in his arm, although you didn’t have much hope. 

He thanked you quickly, before running off out of the room, grabbing his sword and nearly slashing through a bright-eyed Luke Castellan on his way. 

“Oh, god. What have you done now?” You asked, hands on your hips. 

He held his hands up in surrender, “Nothing, nothing. I’m all good. Just had some free time and thought I’d come see my favourite Apollo kid.”

“You know you’re allowed in here unless you're injured or visiting someone, right?” You reminded gently, hiding your bright smile behind an exasperated expression. 

“Actually, I’m both of those things.” 

“Really?”

“Yep. I’m visiting you, and my heart is awfully wounded by how cruelly you treat me.” He smirked, and you rolled your eyes, walking back to the drawer you had been organising before the arrival of your most boisterous patient. 

“Does that mean I can stay?” He asked, following you with swift strides. 

“I can’t exactly stop you, can I?”

He chuckled quietly, giving you shoulder a quick squeeze before looking down at the drawer full of bandages you were sorting through. 

“D’you want some help?”

You shrugged noncommittally and he immediately knelt down beside you and began rolling several bandages up and sorting them into their proper sections, humming happily under his breath the whole time. 

And that’s how the pair of you continued for the rest of the afternoon. If you needed something of a high shelf, Luke was reaching up to grab it for you. If you wanted a specific item or tool, he was already beside you, holding it out as if he had read your mind. 

And the only reward he wanted for his hard work was to see your face melt into a smile when the pair of you locked eyes. And of course the lollipop you offered him at the end of the day for being so helpful. 

V: He always saves you a seat a campfire

Luke was well aware that, as an Apollo kid, you loved the campfire. Despite the fact that you weren’t as musically talented as your siblings, it always brought a smile to your face to see them perform. He loved watching as you clapped along in earnest, cheering loudly when the song finished and loudly demanding another. 

So, he always saved you a seat (right beside him, of course). 

But, on this particular night, he’d caught wind of the fact some Demeter boy had been sniffing around, saying that he was going to ask you to sit next to him, instead of Luke. 

“Aw, is Lukey boy getting jealous?” Chris jeered, following Luke’s gaze as it landed on you, conversing with the boy from Demeter. 

“No. Not like she’ll sit with him anyway.” He proclaimed, his voice filled with a certainty he did not feel. 

“You sure?” Chris asked, watching as you laughed brightly at whatever joke the boy was making. 

“Oh, I’m so sure. Certain, even. So certain.” Luke said, drumming his fingers on the wood of the table, while trying to reassure himself. 

This evening, you got to the campfire before him, and as he began to walk towards where you were sitting, he caught a glimpse of that boy making a beeline to you from the other direction. 

He quickened his pace, only slowing slightly to revel in the way your face broke into sunshine when you caught sight of him. 

Unfortunately, that momentary lapse in concentration was nearly his undoing, as only mere moments later, your attention was arrested by the boy from Demeter who appeared to have magically materialised right in front of you. 

He sped up until it felt like he was running, sliding into the seat next to you right as the Demeter boy made his move. 

“...do you mind if I sit-”

“Sorry man. Seat’s taken.” Luke smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

“Oh, uh, sorry. Didn’t realise it was like that.” The boy looked between the two of you, the expression on his face torn between bitter and disappointed. He then made a quick exit, leaving you to try and digest the situation. 

“Sorry I’m late.” He smiled, not moving the hand from where it sat on your upper arm. 

“No problem,” You said, a look of bemusement on your face, “Gonna tell me what that was all about?”

“Um-”

“And why are you so out of breath? And-”

He was saved from further questioning by your siblings starting the first song of the night. 

I: He always worried about you

“How much longer are we gonna have to walk?” Luke whined, although it was pretty obvious he wasn’t really annoyed by the bright smile on his face. 

“Not that much farther!” You called back, practically skipping ahead as you neared the edge of the strawberry fields. 

“Good. I feel like my feet are gonna fall off. Y’know how to fix fallen-off-feet, Doc?”

“Are you doubting my skills, Castellan?” You gasped, spinning around to face him, your hands planted firmly on your hips. 

“Hmm, maybe?” He mused, smiling wider as you skipped back to him. 

“Well, don’t. Or I’ll hit you over the head with the picnic basket.” You responded, before linking your arm with his, and leading him to a small spot that was free of the strawberry plants. 

“Happy now?”

He sighed, placing the basket down gently before slumping to the floor, “Overjoyed.” 

He stayed like that for a minute, watching out of the corner of his eye as you spread the blanket across the dirt floor, smoothing it down gently and unpacking the various food items you had prepared. 

Luke cracked a small grin as he watched, marvelling in the way you glowed in the sun. Everyday he thought you couldn't get more beautiful, and everyday he was proven wrong. 

He sat up to tuck in to the picnic, admiring the way you rolled your eyes at him with fondness as you also moved to sit down. 

“Finally decided to- OW!” You exclaimed, cutting off your own statement as you cried out in pain. 

Luke was immediately by your side, asking what was wrong as you tentatively picked your hand up off the floor, shaking it side to side. 

“Holy shit that hurts.” You murmured, looking down at the thorn that had lodged itself into your hand. 

“You're gonna be ok, don’t worry, I’ll get it out for you.” He reassured, although he seemed much more worried than you. 

“Luke,” You laughed, “I’m all good. Camp’s best doctor, remember?” You reminded, before reaching into your palm and pulling the thorn out in one fell swoop. 

As soon as it was out, he was grabbing your palm, cradling it in his hand and inspecting the tiny wound carefully. 

“You're sure you’re ok? We can-” 

“I’m perfectly fine. Why are you so stressed about this?” You asked, confused. He had always been protective, but not usually to such an extreme. 

“Oh, uh, I dunno, just don’t want you to get hurt.” He muttered, still running his fingers along the palm of your hand. 

“So I can’t have a thorn in my hand, but you're allowed to wander into the infirmary with massive gashes up your side?”

He chuckled, his voice low, “Yeah. I guess that’s right.” 

“You’re impossible, Castellan.” You whispered, and when your eyes met once again, you felt a shift in the air. 

Suddenly all the events throughout your friendship made perfect sense, and it was like you had finally found the missing piece to a seemingly impossible puzzle. 

Luke had clearly seen the realisation in your eyes, as he raised his free hand to cup your cheek, your face warming slightly under his touch. 

"Please tell me I'm not reading too much into all of this." You sighed.

"You're not. I don't know how you didn't realise." Luke chuckled, "May I?" He asked, and you nodded, both of you moving forward to meet the other’s lips. 

And you couldn’t help but wonder, how you hadn’t realised sooner. 

[paddockbunny]

Don’t Blame Me - Part 3

Summary : You had it bad. You had it so damn bad for a man that was not your boyfriend. And when you arrive in Brazil and find out all the drivers were staying in the same hotel…what happens when it’s suddenly all out there to you, on a plate? Rating : 18+ Pairing : Daniel Ricciardo x Reader (Max Verstappen’s GF) Word Count : Multi-part imagine - part 3 is 2800 words Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, adult language, fantasising having sex with someone who isn’t your boyfriend, sexual themes, or female receiving Images : curated from Pintrest Authors Note : this chapter features Max Verstappen in a sexual situation so please note as I know some people do not like to engage with Max content. But it will be worth it in the end ✌🏼*** denotes a flashback x

Brazil ’23

You made it back to the hotel in one piece. Max’s hands had been all over you in the back of the car. His lips were on every inch of visible skin he could find. You wondered if the driver thought it was inappropriate behaviour or was annoyed by the giggling that left you every time he pressed his lips against various body parts and hands found another part of you to caress. But you were enjoying it too much to even care. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him. He had had a strange day – after being at the lower half of the grid in practice then doing a recovery drive and putting it on pole for the actual race on Sunday. It was a mixed bag but he seemed fuelled by something. Not that you were in anyway complaining.

When you finally pulled up to the hotel, still slightly breathless with your lip-gloss anywhere but your lips, you saw the crowds of fans instantly. You knew this meant that he was going to have to spend a while signing caps and posing for pictures with fans. It momentarily halted the earlier make-out session from progressing but you appreciated this was just simply part of Max’s job. You smiled as you parted from him and went to wait inside the hotel – where you could indulge in the air conditioning to cool your body temperature down from the aftermath of Max’s seduction. Watching him through the floor to ceiling windows you felt the rush of adoration. Max always seemed to get a bit of a bum deal with people thinking he wasn’t good to his fans. You could attest that he was amazing with them and always took time out of his own day to speak to them and make them feel special – even if he was trying to conceal his semi while doing so as he currently was.

 

Twenty minutes later Max came waltzing through the door and came straight over to you. “Are you hungry?” He asked as you arose to your feet. “Not really.” You shrugged and an amused and delighted smile spread broadly across his face. “Good.” He boldly and bluntly stated. His hand slipped into yours as he pulled you in the direction of the elevator. He pressed the button. He leaned into you as you waited and you could feel his hot breath against your ear. In a low purr he spoke quietly against your hair; “I’m hungry” He breathed “but not for food.”

 

Falling into hotel rooms had become your favourite pastime. Especially when your boyfriend’s incredible lips were attached to your own like they were right in that moment. The pair of you had picked up exactly where you had left off. Max’s hands were firmly positioned around your waist (where they belonged) holding you into him like he never wanted to let you go. He held you upright as you stumbled back, trying to keep your balance while he lead you straight over toward the bed. Your stomach twisted and tightened from the anticipation for what you knew was coming. Your brain flooded with all of the possible ways he could make love to you and as his hands travelled further down to grab handfuls of your round peachy ass, you tried to decipher which way it was going to be tonight. He usually liked it slow, steady, and sensual. Making sure that you felt taken care of and adored through every single stroke. He liked it because it always gave him plenty of time to hear all of the moans he pulled from you and feel how your body responded to each and every move he made. But you weren’t sure tonight was one of those nights. Nights after a race win or a recovery drive were usually lust driven. They were passionate and sometimes rough. On these nights he wouldn’t hesitate to close his hand around your throat and playfully squeeze or spank your butt a few times just so you remembered that you were his.

Max wasted no time peeling your top from your body. His eyes went large as he took in the sight of your chest in your new white lace bra. It was one of his little quirks. He preferred white lingerie to black like most guys did. You had found it out quite quickly into your relationship when he bought you a whole bunch of little scraps of white fabric that would barely cover a damn thing. Asking him about it he said it was because it made your skin look like it shimmered and he liked the fact he could see when you got excited by him as the wet patch on your panties always became more visible. It was reason enough for you to continue to wear white to please him and you happened to find this particular little kink rather sweet. His mouth wasted no time following the way his hands had gone. It kept travelling down and down. From your neck, down to your collarbone and finally to your stomach. He always started like this. He always made sure you were all ready for him when he finally decided to give you what the dull ache inside of you wanted most. His fingers unbuttoned your jeans and slowly pulled them down your thighs. A breath caught in your throat as he placed his lips to the elastic band of the matching white thong and moaned against you flesh. God you needed him. You needed him so badly. You needed him right fucking now. You opened your eyes and looked down, preparing to beg him to get what you needed when your mouth fell open in shock. Instead of a mop of dirty blonde hair meeting your eyes it was curls of deep dark brown. Instead of the steely eyes you loved, a pair of full round dark ones met your gaze. Instead of Max down on his knees before you ready to pay attention to the slick wet folds with his all too willing tongue, it was Daniel.

 

***

May ‘23

Monaco

This was the first sponsor party you had ever attended with Max – with anyone really – and you had no idea why he hated them so much. Ok, perhaps talking shop all night and having to answer the same question of “so, do you think you’ll win this weekend” gets a little boring but there was a rather intoxicating buzz around the room. The music was loud but not obnoxiously so and the drinks were strong (and free). It was a totally different world to the one you were used to and truthfully you were still trying to get accustomed to it. You were attempting to blend in and make it look like you belonged here and you were one of the girls that would be attending these fancy parties all the time. There were models and influencers galore here in Monaco and you were just another one of the “normal” girls – so much so that you wouldn’t have been surprised if someone had gotten you mixed up for a competition winner or a fan. Yet somehow, people seemed to know who you were. Even if it they only knew you as “Max Verstappen’s Girlfriend”.

 

Max was off schmoozing with one of the most important shareholders with Christian and Checo in a corner. They were laughing and all of their faces looked relaxed and happy so at least it seemed like they weren’t talking about Sunday’s race and piling the pressure on. You knew Max found all the glitz and showiness of Monaco a bore. He hated having to watch what he said and pretend to like some of the pretentious fuckwits that always seemed to show up here. He liked living in Monaco for the ease of travel and the nice weather – plus the tax break was always handy when you earned as much as he did - but he didn’t like most of the rich and famous that also lived here. You headed toward the bar so you could get another one of the orangey cocktails ladened with enough vodka to take down an elephant.

Finding a space to fit into wasn’t easy. There was hardly any room and you would have to try wedge yourself in to order. Why was it men always like to congregate at the bar instead of sitting at a table or moving a few feet away from it instead of staking their claim to the spot all night? You stood for a few seconds hoping someone would notice that you were there but it failed miserably. Instead you had to dive into the next available spot when one man took off presumably to go to the restroom. You slid in. Pleased of your observance. The next trouble would be trying to get the already busy bartenders to notice you long enough for you to order. Max Verstappen’s girlfriend doesn’t get you very far when rich, glamorous women were hanging off the arms of rich powerful men were all over the place. You waited till it was your turn. Biting your lip in the hopes you wouldn’t turn away empty handed. When you felt a hand on the small of your back. Max. You relaxed into it thankful you had been saved. You would absolutely get served now that the current Formula One World Champion was standing behind you making it obvious that you were with him. Only, when you turned around to thank him it wasn’t Max at all. Glaring at you with a slight smile was Daniel Ricciardo instead.

Ever since meeting him back in Azerbaijan a month ago you had barely spoken to him past a few words. He didn’t seem interested in getting to know you. Which was fine, it was cool, whatever. After all not everyone that worked with Max or had such a close friendship with had to know the girlfriend. But resigned to the fact that he wasn’t interested was the fact that you very much were. Straight from the word go you were interested in him. Partly because Max always painted him as this fun, vivacious, life loving guy who never failed to make him laugh but also because he was so fucking gorgeous. You stupidly delved into his social media and watched a couple of the old Red Bull videos online. He was funny and charming and harboured bundles of natural charisma. It had only been a few days after you met him for the first time – Well, technically it was the second but the first time you were introduced by name. The first time was when you body checked him on the way to hospitality when he clearly thought you were single and was checking you out (you assumed because he might have only been squinting and not at all checking you out and you fabricated it because now you fancied him a little) – and suddenly you felt like a fangirl and had to hide your mini crush on him from Max.

 

“What are you drinking?” He asked but your mind was still on the fact his hand hadn’t left your waist. You wanted to appear confident but the name of the drink you wanted went straight out of your head as he stared at you. “Uh…” You wanted the ground to swallow you up. Words. Use your fucking words or he’s going to think you’re a fucking simpleton. You scolded yourself. “That orange thing they were bringing round.” He smiled and his eyes creased a little. God, he was really handsome. He motioned behind you to catch the attention of a bartender. It was an easy task for him. Everyone knew who he was after all. He ordered what you guessed was wine for himself and then a vodka sunrise, which was yours. Vodka Sunrise, you should have known that. It tasted familiar but you were used to the usual tequila versions. You bit your lip again trying to pretend like it didn’t annoy you that you seemed stupid.

“Are you having a nice evening?” You asked him when he looked at you again and before you could stop yourself. It was work for him just like Max. It was a commitment due to the sponsor not because either of them wanted to actually be there. “Its not bad.” He shrugged “Better than some other years” He at least attempted to answer your question, which was kind of him. You knew he probably wanted to shout at you he never wanted to be asked if he was having a nice evening ever again. You glanced down and nervously twirled the bracelet upon your wrist as a ploy so you could take in his chest in the shirt he was wearing. In direct contrast to Max’s white shirt Daniel was wearing a black one and it made his golden tanned skin look even darker. Fuck! Why does he have to look like this?!

Another loud laugh left you. It bubbled up and erupted from you lips as Daniel told you another funny story about Max from their time as teammates. There was something about the way he was able to tell the stories. He built suspense and intrigue before landing a hilarious line that made your ribcage hurt from laughing. You were almost too busy giggling at Max’s historic misfortune that you nearly missed Daniel’s arm grazing yours. But you felt it and the simultaneous shivers that went up and down your spine as his muscly limb bumped into your own. You swallowed. Not because you were nervous but because you liked it. As you mulled over the action and if he intended to do it or not you glimpsed at him just at the same time as he happened to do the same to you. His eyes are stunning. But it was his lips and in particular the one that was drawn under his upper teeth as he bit it that drew your attention. Is he doing this on purpose? It was so hot and you couldn’t avoid from thinking it.

Daniel turned his head away from you and let out an audible frustrated huff. “I can’t believe you have a boyfriend.” He said it with borderline gritted teeth before stretching his neck out in that familiar way that guys did when they seemed frustrated. You had heard him right. You know you did. He might have thought it was sly but you had caught it. You knew what guys usually meant when they said things like Daniel had just done but you couldn’t refrain from asking what he meant so you got a clearer idea. “Well, if it was just a boyfriend I wouldn’t care but your boyfriend happens to be Max” It only clarified it a little but it certainly made your pulse jumpstart and go haywire of what you thought his words meant. You found yourself asking why again. Daniel sighed and leaned in further toward you. So close you could smell his expensive fragrance and feel his body heat radiating from him. His breath tickled the side of your exposed neck as he whispered; “Because of all the things I would do to you if you weren’t his”

And then he walked away leaving you standing there with your heart racing and mouth hanging opened in pure shock.

***

Your eyes clamped close as Max pushed you gently backward on to the bed. He remained on his knees as he peeled your sodden wet panties down your thighs before he groaned carnally at the sight of you. The inhale of air that you took was so loud it filled the room but it was necessary one because Max pressed his dreamy lips to your intimate folds. The image of Daniel that had sprung on you moments ago was forgotten as soon as Max started calm, delicates swipes of his tongue. Loud breaths fell away to gasps and sharp sucks of air as he began paying attention to the bundle of nerves he was practically best friends with. His name teetered on the edge your parted lips. The short, quick name was about to flow out of you on a sigh but you opened your eyes to look at him again and FUCK!

Your mind was cruel to you. This was torturous. As your boyfriend made all of the nerve endings in your body stand to attention and put every pleasure point on high alert, you were picturing Daniel. You could imagine the way his tongue would feel as it moved like Max’s was. You could feel the burning sting of his beard on your sensitive inner thigh and the nudge of his nose as he delved in to taste you. You were close already just imagining how expertly he would be able to do this so continued indulging. His name threatened to escape from you as you reached down and ran your hands through soft straight hair expecting for your fingers to be tangled in a generous mop of fine chocolate curls. Momentarily it disappointed you because it took you out of the fantasy but you were there just thinking about him. Max was doing all the work but it was Daniel and the simple thought of him that made you orgasm.

Part 4 Here

[kanmom51]

Feels appropriate today, doesn't it?

cr./@abtjikook

Did we mention that 8 July was 2800 days count from 8 November 2015?

And today we have the book spoilers.

I have sinned, I admit it. Could not wait to next week for my book to arrive and went and read the spoiler pages.

The way they talk about that trip.

We get confirmation that it was ever ONLY about the two of them.

We get confirmation that this trip meant EVERYTHING to them.

Not like we didn't know that already. But it's nice to hear it once again from the horse's mouth, so to speak.

The joy JK got from those little supposedly insignificant moments. Staying up all night because JM was looking through his phone, walking the streets and JM's feet hurting.

Do we see the connecting thread here?

Well, beyond it all being about the one person he also made the star of his creation - JM.

It's all about the mundane!!

They got to be a couple. Alone. Outside of their idol lives. Well, tried their best. And the gift of anonymity with their Halloween costumes. This was just what they needed.

So this trip, it wasn't about a start of a relationship (let's be real, they were 2 years into the relationship at that point). This trip was about them trying to be 'normal' human beings, a 'normal' couple, doing the 'normal' things couples do. No security, no managers, no fans (well they wanted that). Just being themselves together doing the mundane.

All of this isn't happening in a vacuum either. It's happening when they are struggling with their fame and life decisions (some of which were made when they were very very young).

Mundane.

A word I mentioned before too.

Because that's what gave them joy in this trip.

Because discovering that everything you felt for each other also survives that test, the test of being a 'regular', 'normal' couple. That is EVERYTHING.

Take all of that and add the effort that JK went to with arranging the trip. Paying for it. The timing (just almost their 2 year anniversary), the room number choice.

So yes, we get the significance of GCFT. And the significance of it's release date: 8/11/2017.

Do we remember JK's excitement one GCF Tokyo was uploaded?

Almost 6 years on, reading those lines, and JK's choice for GCFT kind of hits you hard, doesn't it?

I woke up pissed off today And lately everyone feels fake Somewhere, I lost a piece of me Smoking cigarettes on balconies But I can't do this alone Sometimes I just need a light If I call you on the phone Need you on the other side So when your tears roll down your pillow like a river I'll be there for you I'll be there for you When you're screaming, but they only hear you whisper I'll be loud for you But you gotta be there for me too But you gotta be there for me too Last year took a toll on me But I made it with you next to me Around the world and back again I hope you're waiting at the end But I can't do this alone Sometimes I just need a light If I call you on the phone Need you on the other side So when your tears roll down your pillow like a river I'll be there for you I'll be there for you When you're screaming, but they only hear you whisper I'll be loud for you I'll be loud for you I got you, I promise But let me be honest Love is a road that goes both ways When your tears roll down your pillow like a river I'll be there for you But you gotta be there for me too But you gotta be there for me too Boy, I'm holdin' onto something Won't let go of you for nothing I'm runnin', runnin' just to keep my hands on you There was a time that I was so blue What I got to do to show you? I'm runnin', runnin' just to keep my hands on you Runnin', runnin' just to keep my hands on you Runnin', runnin' just to keep my hands on you Said, I'm runnin', runnin' just to keep my hands on you But you gotta be there for me too But you gotta be there for me too

And then you take Letter

Baby, don't leave, just stay with me, yeah To you who saw me greater than my little self (to you) So that I can only deliver as much as I received (Uh-oh) So that I can keep my word (Uh-oh) Don't worry, just stay by your side, yeah Because I don't know what days awaits us (Yeah) I'm scared even though it looks like it (Uh-oh) Don't forget to always say "together" (don't forget)

JM's reply?

I absolutely adore these young men.

I am still to read the book. Can't wait. I'm sure there will be more to add. But at this point, from the few pages shared, I think it's also safe to say that 2018 issues were not about their relationship. Far from it.

They were struggling with themselves. Adjusting to stardom. As much as they wanted the success, as much as they wanted it all, when that dream became a reality is when it hit them that being a star, being famous, being successful, it comes with a price. And that price is at times hard to accept, hard to digest, hard to adjust to and to some impossible to live with. And that is what they were going through. What next? How far? How long? How much? Is this what I really want to do with my life? What price? Is it worth the price? Each of them dealing with it in their own way. JM and JK there for each other, helping each other through it all.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Hello! I hope you’re well! Could I please request a yandere male idol with a fem reader? The reader is his manager and overworks a lot

A/N: I am currently a sick little dude without any motivation, so I’m sorry this one is a little sucky-- gonna try my hardest to make something Christmassy before christmas!! (Also anon I loved this and the gardener idea I'm just hella slow (TヘT) )

TW: manipulation, gaslighting, yandere-ish themes, fear of abandonment

Synopsis: As an overworked manager to a well-known but conceited idol, you plan on quitting right after one of his shows. Unfortunately, your client is a lot more convincing than you expected. 

Word Count:2800

The ending lyric to an all too familiar preppy, upbeat song was muffled behind the dressing room door you stood next to. Even the applause and screams of excitement could be heard through the thin performance center walls as you gathered up your bag. 

Feet stomped outside the door, rushing bodies moving back and forth to push stage equipment and props, making sure it all moves discreetly in time for the audience to stay oblivious. And, for the main idol to stay compliant. You waited to hear the heavier clacks of polished dance shoes, the sound of heavy breathing from hours of singing and layers of clothes being rustled. You smelt his hairspray before you heard his signature sounds, heart sinking at the fact that he was off the stage so soon. It only meant the confrontation you were dreading would come much faster than anticipated.

You used the small towel in your hand to dab at your forehead, looking at yourself in the bright vanity, hoping your client wouldn’t notice how obviously nervous you were. 

The door in front of you roughly shoved open, nearly hitting you until it slammed shut again, the star of the show leaning against it. He sighed heavy breaths, shutting his eyes and wiping at his forehead with his hand as he stood slumped. 

“Here,” You gestured the towel to him, wrapping it back into a perfect square like he preferred. 

He looked at you without a forethought, taking the towel.

“Thanks,” He snatched the water bottle out of your hands as well, moving over to his vanity. “Would’ve been more useful earlier, but whatever.” 

You didn’t let his words sting you like they did the first time you heard them. You knew it wasn’t personal, he was just in another mood after the unending performance he just gave for the second time tonight. 

“How was the show?” You asked, taking small steps towards him. 

He removed the pastel-pink wig from his head with a wince, tugging at the face tape stuck to it without remorse. 

“I don’t know, you tell me. You were the one watching.” 

“Actually, I wasn’t,” Your voice quivered a tad. “I just got here.” 

“What the hell? Why weren’t you here? What if something happened,” He began to untie the small tie around his neck, voice sounding somewhat softer despite his mood. “You know as my little ‘slave’ you’re supposed to be here 24/7.”

The idol ripped open a makeup wipe bag.

“I-, I know.” You looked at him in the mirror.

“What if there was a wardrobe malfunction? I could be doomed. And then who’s fault would that be?” He said casually, rubbing a wipe underneath his eyes to remove smudged mascara. 

“Yeah, I know…”

“So, what’s your excuse this time.” He asked in a bored tone, looking up at you. 

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something serious-- Uh, something about my job as your, you know, manager.”

“Okay…” He said in a suspicious tone, rubbing at his lips to get rid of thick lipgloss and foundation. 

“Well, I feel I’ve outlasted my stay here. I mean, with the performance agency, and as your--”

The idol suddenly spun around in his chair, eyes wide and makeup half gone. He looked exhausted beneath the partly gone concealer and heavy eyeshadow-- all pieces made to make him stand out better in front of the crowd. 

“You know how much I appreciate you, right?” He said in the sweetest tone, looking at you with doe eyes. “You do so much for me, I don’t tell you that enough.”

You rolled your eyes, watching him use his fan-interaction voice with you. You hated when he tried to use his work voice-- you could stand the baratement when he was upset, but not the cutesy, shrill tone that bled disenguinity. 

“Miha, don’t do that.” 

“Do what? I’m just being honest.” He grabbed your hands, pulling you closer to him. 

The thing about Miha was that he could be sweet when he wanted to-- whether it was fake or not, he could do it. The problem was that naturally, he wasn’t. His natural response to those around him was selfishness and possessiveness. If he suddenly felt he should be generous or kind, he’d flip like a light switch. But that thought hardly ever entered his mind unless it benefited him. Despite knowing this, you allowed him to bring you close. 

Petting your hands he took a look at your nails, comparing them to his own. 

“When was the last time you took care of yourself? Your nails are awful, look at these.”

He picked at the dirt underneath your fingernails with his polished black ones, his hair still slicked back within the wig cap covering his head as he poked and prodded at your fingers. If you let him, he would’ve obsessed over them until they looked as nice as his pedicured ones. 

“Don’t change the subject.” You groaned. “I came here because I needed to tell you that I-- I can’t be your manager anymore.”

“Well I could’ve figured that one out myself, stupid. You looked like a kicked puppy when I came in; did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

He slapped your knuckles as a small form of punishment.

“So what is it, you want a raise?” 

“No, it’s not that.”

“More benefits? The agency not giving you enough? You’ve always been a bit of meek thing when asking for things, haven’t you.”

“Its nothing to do with the money--”

“So then, maybe its me? I know there’s been more work lately because of the tour, but you’ve always been so good at handling it. And I can’t do it without you,” He didn’t look at you while saying the compliment, returning to his vanity and stripping himself of the rest of his makeup. 

“Miha,” You cut him off, trying to make yourself appear more assertive. “I just can’t take being your-- your ‘slave’, anymore. I’ve been with you since your debut, these past six years have just... Become too much for me. The work, the stress.”

“Oh you know I just call you that as a joke,” He waved his hand, unbuttoning his shirt. “And besides, the fact that you’ve been with me for so long is why you have to stay. You can’t leave me now, not when my career is at its peak.”

“But--”

“But what?” He turned back around in his chair, shirt unbuttoned and face bare. He seemed more human like this, not all dressed up like when he was on stage or talk shows. All performers and idols had some sort of ‘face’ to put on, but it was more intimate when he was honest with you like this. “I don’t understand why you want to leave me.”

Miha huffed, getting up to walk slowly towards you and your packed bag. You usually left a few things in his dressing room, your “office” being a lonely desk in the corner of it where you’d set up your laptop and make countless phonecalls. But now, it was empty except for a lonely pen holder. He had been your only client for the past few years ever since you suddenly stopped getting new work from the agency, so you basically made his dressing rooms your second home.

You watched him rub the white cloth you handed him when he first came in along his chest. Slowly, he tried to see if you were watching, enticed in how he got rid of the sweat still clinging to his skin. 

“You don’t really want to abandon me, do you? I don’t think I could make it without you,” Miha bent down to your height, trying to find your eyes. You kept looking away, only making eye contact once the bottom of his water bottle was forced under your chin. “ You know you’ve always been more than just a manager to me…” 

He gripped your loose shirt, pulling at the bottom of it to bring you closer. You knew his games, knew that he’d often use his pretty boy charm to sway executives and talent judges. But this, something about it felt off. Yes, he was using his sad puppy dog charm, but there was an essence of… desperation in his voice. 

“Don’t do this, not right now…” 

“Do what…?”

“Try to act all mopey, trying to get me to stay.” 

“But I do need you to stay--! I can’t rely on anyone else--” 

“Miha--” 

“Besides, do you know what’ll happen if you try to leave me?” 

“I’m not leaving you--”

“You’ll be kicked from the agency. You’ll find it very hard to get work again. And if it gets out that you left me so horrendously….well, I can’t say I can predict how my fans react. You know how upset they get at the drop of a hat.”

He tugged you closer, pulling your hips flush with his own. 

“So just stay where you are, okay?”

His mouth was near your ear, heavy breaths against your warm flesh as he waited for your answer. You didn’t need to respond verbally for him to know he caught you in his web. But still, you were hesitant.

“That would never happen, no one cares about meaningless agents, especially since you’ve basically been my only client for the past few years... I’ll be fine,”

“But you won’t.” Miha grabbed your face with his hands, looking down at you as if you were just a small creature in his presence. “I don’t want to have to make it harder for you… and I won’t, if you stay by my side. Just be my cute little assistant like you have been, okay?”

“Manager.” You corrected.

“Yeah, my cute little manager.” 

You gulped at his words, watching his eyes as they traveled where yours did. He seemed to be anticipating your answer, not sure whether to lean in and kiss you or keep holding onto you so you couldn’t leave. 

“Miha…are you really threatening me?”

“No! I wouldn’t call it that. I’m just… giving you a heads up, is all. If you leave, that’s going to happen. So it’d be wise to stay, wouldn’t it?” 

“But I can’t, I just can’t live like this anymore.”

“Of course you can! I know i’m a bit--- difficult, but I can be easier if you just stay with me. I’ll change, I promise. It’ll be different now, just focus on me and don’t worry about everything else.”

You looked away, nervous and not entirely believing his words. A part of you wanted to believe he was capable of change, but you knew he was good at fabricating lies to keep people where he wanted them. Yet, you couldn’t deny the tight grip he had on your hips, the way his feet stood outside yours to prevent you from turning away. He was desperately trying to keep you there, to stop you from walking out that door with his words and his body language. 

You could see how lost he was; the man hardly knew how to take care of himself outside of the rigid schedule he was kept on. To be honest, he really did need you. He’d fall apart if you weren’t there, and you both knew that. 

Miha huffed, seemingly impatient with your indecision.

“Look, would it make you feel better if you came to my place tonight? I’ll cook you dinner, we can just sit down and relax. No work, just two ‘coworkers’ hanging out.” 

“I don’t know…”

“Atleast do this for me before you try to go off, okay?” 

You think about it for a moment. It couldn’t hurt, right? You’ve had dinner with clients before, but never at their actual homes. Stomping your feet out of frustration, you nodded reluctantly. Miha clapped his hands like a child, stripping off the rest of his shirt and pulling a new, more casual one on over his head. 

“Yay! Okay, don’t worry I’ll take care of everything.”

He knew you wouldn’t be able to resist a dinner offer. You’d been to his place multiple times, but it’d be different this time. He finally set some precautions to prevent any uncessary… attempts to leave. And before you knew it, you’d find yourself in his bed, cuddled up next to him without an ounce of awareness. 

“Just a small dinner, right? I can’t stay out too late.” You checked your watch and saw the small hand rest on the eight. 

“You’re such a worrywart. Don’t worry I’ll have you home before ten.” Miha lied, grabbing his big coat and flinging it on. 

The male pulled a folded face mask from the vanity, a crinkled black piece of fabric with elastic strings that he had already worn today when trying to get to the performance center without being noticed. 

You felt stupid standing there, having had the full intention of storming out with your belongings and claiming your freedom only minutes earlier. And yet that hadn't happened. You still stood in the same spot as usual, clutching onto your bag and waiting for the world renowned idol to be done getting ready. 

"Hold this." He said, handing you his duffle bag as he searched on the vanity for another item. You took it without a forethought, used to having to carry his items when he moved to and fro.  "I actually got something special for you. A little gift to commemorate my growth, you know."

You perked up at that, surprised. Miha never got you gifts, especially not out of the blue. Often he'd 'reward' your hard work with obsessive kisses and tight squeezes but you never considered that a gift, unlike him. 

Miha would have spoiled you more if he felt you wouldn't be put off by it, but didn't want to destroy the… "professional" relationship that you seemed so keen on keeping. Even when he offered to give you himself for the night-- multiple times-- you never gave in. It would be "too complicated" you always said, but he never saw that as a no. It was only a matter of time until he got you in his grasp. And he was sure the sleeping meds and red merlot he bought would be enough. 

You tried to peak at what miha was doing, but he turned around faster than you expected. 

"Here it is!" He rushed in front of you, pulling out your free arm and turning your wrist towards him. You watched him put a cold chain of metal around your wrist, adjusting the clasp so that it sat evenly. Looking in the vanity mirror he brought up your arm, showing what he had placed on you. It was a shiny piece of jewelry, a bright 'M' held by both sides of the chain.

"Uh… M?"

"for Miha. Or 'mine'. Which ever you prefer, little slave." He leaned down beside you, giving a small yet chaste kiss to your cheek. "Either way, it's a symbol of how you're staying with me. I was planning on giving it to you on my debut anniversary but…"

You looked at the bracelet with wide eyes and a slack jaw, completely surprised at the formality of the gift. It was beautiful-- simple, something most people wouldn’t notice out of the corner of their eye-- but still priceless. It didn’t look like your average piece of costume jewelry; and knowing miha, he tended to go all out when he had an idea. 

“Miha I can’t accept this--” You attempted to unclasp the jewelry before the idol stopped you. 

“You have to, I’m not giving you a choice.” Miha grinned, adjusting the piece. “Its a symbol of how you’re my manager… I’ll always be your number one, right?”

You stood mouth agape, unsure how to respond. This was the first time he’d ever gone out of his way to give you something that seemed --almost-- entirely out of selflessness. You nodded your head, gripping tight onto the duffle back slung over your shoulder. 

Miha gave you a small wink in the mirror, enjoying how you seemed caught off guard. He caressed your face with a finger as you struggled to say thank you.

With it, you realized the chain did more than just give you a sparkly hand-- it symbolized your long-developed capture, one you had been slowly falling into ever since you helped Miha rise to stardom.

[robinsno1lesbian]

What about older neighbor Robin teaching reader how to scissor or squirt (or both) 🫣

older!neighbor!robin x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2800

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content! (MDNI), implied age gap (reader is 18+), light choking, vaginal fingering, oral, squirting, multiple orgasms, scissoring, use of petnames, dirty talk, not proofread and written in a rush so i guarantee mediocrity- (i might add a header still because this is much more than just a drabble so? anyway)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: YES OLDER!NEIGHBOR!ROBIN REQUESTS!!!

you're on robin's lap, both of her hands holding you by the hips as she grounds you down on her.

it has been nearly an hour of this; teasing and making out while you're straddling her lap.

your lips feel almost sore from all the kissing and yet there is np end in sight.

it would be a lie if you claimed that you weren't enjoying this because, oh, you are.

your neighbor's lips are the softest you have ever felt on yours, such a deep contrast to her rough fingers.

fingers, that are currently digging into your soft flesh right above your hipbones.

so, yes, you are enjoying this but it is not nearly enough.

you can feel your wetness pooling between your legs and each kiss peppered on your lips makes you want her even more.

"fuck" she grunts. "such a pretty girl. god, i love it when you get like this"

and to add onto that, her teeth sink into your lower lip and you whimper at the sharp sting that quickly turns into burning hot pleasure as it washes through you.

"robin" you whisper. you feel pathetic for being the one who seems to be so affected by this, while robin seems to be in complete control over herself.

"what is it?" she raises her brows. "don't you like what I'm doing to you?"

"n-no" you stutter helplessly. "no, i love it but- 'need more"

the stupid grin that appears on her face tells you that she has you exactly where she wanted.

"more...?"

"y-yea" your head falls back, leaving your neck completely exposed to her. she makes good use of it, bringing her mouth to your skin and sucking marks onto the soft flesh. you know they won't fade for days.

wearing turtleneck sweaters for the weeks that follow it is.

"touch me, robin"

the woman below you chuckles sweetly, before one of her hands makes its way from your hip, up to your neck.

you gasp when you realize what she's up to, but the realization comes too late.

her delicate fingers wrap around your neck and she applies slight pleasure to both sides.

there's a hunger in her glare when she watches the way your face tenses up and your eyes go wide in surprise.

"'this what you wanted?" robin asks.

you shake your head and get rewarded by her grip tightening.

"no-?" she tilts her head. "but you said you wanted me to touch you, didn't you? you asked for this...and now that I'm giving it to you you don't want it? is that what we're doing now?"

"n-no that's- not what i meant- i-" you whine and try to grind yourself onto one of her thighs.

her smirk grows as looks down at your hips, the way they roll against her.

"thought so...bet you love every second of this too, don't you?"

this time you just nod, desperate for something -anything, really- from her.

robin leans in closer, her breath ticking against your ear when she whispers; "such a fucking slut"

your eyes roll back but you barely have time to take it all in before robin spins you around and lays you down on your bed.

you yelp at the sudden movements but she doesn't stop there, her fingers already working on the hemline of your top.

you wrap your legs around her lower body at the same time as she undresses you, your way of signalizing her that you want her to remain this close to you.

she speaks as she undresses you.

"i wanna try something new, doll. is that okay?"

only the way she calls you doll, that sweet rasp in her voice while she asks it all so gently, is enough for you to scream your consent at the top of your lungs.

but it's also excitement and desperate want to see what she has come up with.

"y-yes please" you nod. your shirt has been thrown to the floor and your pants are about to join them there, leaving you in nothing but a cute pair of underwear.

"okay" she responds before attaching her lips to the newly exposed skin. "gotta get you ready for me first"

"o-okay" your hands grab her by the hair when she kisses all over your body, occasionally biting down or sucking a bit harsher to leave red marks behind.

it doesn't take long until her kisses reach your thighs and your breath immediately hitches in your throat.

"fuck robin" you moan when her lips ghost over your clothed clit.

robin can tell just how aroused you are already; there's a growing wet patch on the fabric of your underwear.

she chuckles to herself before pressing her open mouth to your cunt.

your hips jerk up but she puts her palm on your stomach to keep you low.

you squirm on the blankets while robin teases you through your underwear.

"please- please, please, please"

"you think you're ready for me?" she questions, knowing damn well she doesn't have to ask. you can feel your heat all the way to your thighs, making a mess of your soft skin for her.

you grind down onto the mattress in response.

"good girl" she praises before she pushes the panties down your legs. "so-"

you look down, excited to see what she's come up with.

"there's this thing i've read about..." robin kisses her way up your thighs again. "only some girls can do it...i know i can but...i wanna know about you..."

she leans in closer and her breath is hot against your throbbing cunt.

"it's called squirting" she explains, all so casually. as if she isn't about to fuck you mindlessly.

"you could describe it as...female ejaculation if you will"

"m-my body can do that?" you raise your brows doubtfully.

"some can..." she licks a long stripe through you and you moan out loud.

"fuck robin!"

"let's figure out if you can, okay doll?"

"y-es" you nod, willing to try your very hardest to please.

"usually" she continues, mouth full of your pussy. you can hardly listen to any of her words, the pleasure overtaking your ability to understand. "you will feel it. before it happens. at least i do"

still, you nod.

"you just have to...let go then. can you be a good girl and do that for me?"

this you do understand, nodding wildly as an answer.

robin smiles and you can feel the way her lip turns into a smirk against yourself.

"good girl"

"let's make this pretty cunt of yours squirt" she whispers before her tongue meets your clit and licks small circles around it.

you grab the bedsheets beneath you immediately and cry out in pleasure.

"oh my god- shit- right there"

you've been wet before, the previous make-out session surely impacted you. but now, that new sensation is only adding to the arousal that's pooling beneath robin's mouth.

you can't remember the last time you have been this wet.

every lick of her tongue draws sinful noises from your pussy that fill your room.

when robin seems to be satisfied with the amount of wetness she can feel against her mouth, she brings up her hand and toys a finger around your entrance.

"p-put it into me" you whisper. "please"

she looks up at you. a string of your own arousal is connecting her lips and your pussy and her chin glistens in the light of your room.

it's an obscene picture really, but it makes you want her even more.

her eyes remain locked with yours when she pumps two of her fingers into you.

you try your best to keep her eyes on her but when you feel her moving inside of you, they roll to the back of your head helplessly.

"oh-"

you slam your hand over your mouth to keep the volume low.

but robin tsks and shakes her head.

"don't pretty girl," she says. "i want to hear you. want to hear how good i can make you feel...you don't scream like this for everyone do you? am i making you feel this good?"

she emphasizes her words by thrusting her fingers faster.

you move your head on the pillows beneath in a strange motion, one that's supposed to be a shake.

luckily robin understands.

"no? i thought so...you're so good for me, taking me so well. ready for me to go harder?"

"please"

you can feel your lower body coiling already and, the more her fingers thrust into you, the more you notice another sensation as well. one that's similar to having to pee and yet so different somehow.

"you just have to let go" robin said. so you choose to focus on that, rather than the potential embarrassment of, quite literally, peeing on her.

"good" she praises before her fingers start curling inside of you, hitting your g-spot every single time.

she moves her fingers harder against that spot inside you too, and the unfamiliar feeling in your body keeps growing and growing.

"r-robin-" you gasp and grip the sheets underneath you.

this is new and so different from how she normally does it. and it doesn't bother you one bit.

you just take it all, every stroke of her fingers, with your back arching in a beautiful bend.

the sensation you've felt before only growing the more she hits that spot of yours. you didn't even know it was physically possible to feel something like this. not like you're complaining.

"what is it doll?" she leans back, her fingers keeping up their pace.

"you gonna cum for me? gonna gush all over my mouth for me? yeah?"

you just nod and nod and nod, your brain shutting down and refusing to speak a whole sentence.

your only option is to take it and, even though you have never done it before, give her what she wants.

and so without having the slightest idea how to, you do.

"you just have to...let go then. can you be a good girl and do that for me?"

that's what robin said. her words playing on repeat when you choose to let the feeling have you. when you give in to it. let it wash through your veins and take over you entirely.

you feel it inside of you first, building up with your orgasm. and then you feel it coming out of you, while your body reaches your height.

your eyes are closed, but you can hear an odd gushing sound from between your thighs.

one you've never made before.

when you find the strength to open your eyes, robin's chin or -much more like it- her entire face is covered in a clear liquid.

she stares up at you and holds your gaze when her tongue cleans you up with long, broad licks across your cunt.

"such a good girl" she praises, your thighs shaking around her head. "you did so fucking good"

you whimper softly when her tongue laps over your clit.

robin leans back and runs her hand through her hair. she's still staring in amazement.

"come here p-please" you mumble and spread out your arms.

she nods and kisses her way up your body before letting you hold onto her in a sweet embrace until the aftershocks have rippled through you and you can breathe properly again.

"that felt so good" you tell her. "thank you"

robin chuckles sweetly. "no need to thank me, pretty girl..." she pats your thigh gently. "you did such a good job for me...do you need anything? water? a shower maybe?"

you shake your head with all the energy you can find within yourself.

"but...you"

"oh don't you worry about me, I'm fine"

"but..." as if to test the waters, you bring your hand down her body, into her shorts, where you feel her arousal pooling.

you gasp and your eyes widen. you hadn't expected it to be this much.

robin reaches out and pulls your hand out of her pants.

"if you're so eager to please, then i've got something"

you nod, willing to do pretty much anything to give robin an equal amount of pleasure to what she has given you before.

little do you know that she is about to give you even more...

"lay back" she orders.

you immediately obey and watch her getting undressed.

her muscles reveal before you, her abs especially prominent when she reaches out to pull her tank top over her head.

all you can really do is lay there and watch while she gets naked for you, her beautiful body on display.

eventually, you can't stop yourself from kneeling up and crawling toward the edge of the bed.

you are beneath her now, staring up at her with the softest glare you can muster.

your silent way of begging for permission to touch her.

robin returns your stare. "what do you want baby? say it? be a good girl and use your words for me?"

that name. good girl.

all you ever want to be for the rest of your life is your handsome neighbor's good girl.

"let me touch you" you whisper "please"

robin chuckles, she fucking chuckles and takes your chin between her index and thumb.

"make some good use of that pretty mouth of yours"

that's all you need to hear.

your lips immediately attack the valley between her breasts, kissing your way down.

goosebumps rise under your kisses and you grin to yourself before lowering your lips to her abs.

her muscles harden when you kiss over them and you shiver in response.

"fuck just like that" she groans above, her fingers sinking into your hair while she guides you.

you wrap your hands around her waist and your nails dig into her skin when she tugs on your hair.

"now lay back"

you glare back up at her and her look tells her she is being serious about this. so you do as you're told.

she follows you down onto the bed and, after a second of maneuvering, you understand what she is up to.

and, god, how you want that.

you find yourself on your beg beneath her, robin between your legs. she's facing sideways and is holding one of your legs up.

your eyes roll back in your head when she lowers herself against you.

"fuck robin" you damn nearly scream when your still sensitive cunt meets hers, the hot feeling of slick and arousal against each other has you seeing stars, and she hasn't even moved yet.

robin's head has dropped against your leg and her lips are parted, hot puffs of her exhales on your skin.

god, she looks so good like this, with pleasure written over her features.

and then she moves.

robin starts out softly, her hips rocking back and forth against your center.

you immediately know that you won't last long like that but the more she moves, the more you become aware of that fact.

her soft moans ring in your ear, her chin is pressed up against her chest and she moves her hips against you with her lips still slightly parted.

a sight that will stay with you for a long time after that.

"shit robin" you groan when the velvet, wet feeling of her center against yours picks up its pace yet again.

"fuck" she moans.

the obscene noise that fill your room could be straight out of a porno, caused by nothing but the wetness between the two of you.

"i- fuck- robin I'm gonna cum again- please can i cum?"

"wait" robin snaps and her eyes fall shut in concentration. "almost there"

you take that as a sign and grind yourself against her even harder.

her head falls back and she gives you a nod.

"cum for me y/n- fuck cum for me-"

with one particular slide of her you cum undone, crying out her name loudly.

your body is squirming beneath hers when robin reaches her own orgasm with a sinful moan.

her entire face is scrunched up with a kind of pleasure you have never seen on her. she is panting, heavy moans falling from her lips.

robin's hips are still rolling beautifully against yours for a couple of seconds and you feel her cum flowing out of her and against you.

and then she collapses down on top of you, breathing labored as she holds you close.

"fuck y/n that was so good"

you're still panting as you recover yourself, gladly letting her hold you in her strong arms through the aftershocks of her own orgasm.

you nod in agreement, knowing damn well you would do it all over again any time.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Signed Away: Part 16

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Fem!Reader Series

Summary: You find out about the contractual marriage your parents arranged with Jake’s when you were a baby. You’re plently angered by it, but Jake doesn’t seem too bothered. He might even be happy.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, fluff, angst, contract marriage, loss of rights, feelings of being trapped, poor parent/child relationships, typos for sure. 

As always, comments can make my bad days worth getting through, so i’ll never not appreciate them. Reblogs and likes make me smile uncontrollably, but no pressure :)

Masterlist

Words: 2800

----

“Do you want some help?”

Jake shot a chuckling Rooster an irritated look through the mirror. “I can tie my own tie,” he said, though he had yet to prove himself. His nervous fingers had fiddled with the ends of the fabric without success long enough for his three friends to find it incredibly entertaining. After his tenth try, his work turned out crooked again, and with a groan, Jake tugged on the material until it hung loose around his neck. “Ok, just fix the damn thing.”

Bob stood and went to work. “You need to breathe,” he said. 

“I am breathing.”

Coyote snorted. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

Jake huffed and resisted the urge to run his fingers through his neatly styled hair. “If I’m talking, I’m breathing.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” Rooster said with a nod. “But maybe try breathing a little…better."

He didn’t think he was being so transparent, but he didn’t have the mental space to focus on anything other than standing at the altar, waiting for you to walk to him. In less than an hour, that's exactly what you would be doing. His heart had been racing from the moment he woke, intensifying with each passing second.

"Done." Bob patted his friend on the shoulder, and Jake thanked him with a nod. "One less thing to worry about."

"I'm not worried, I just—"

The door swinging open stopped him, and all heads turned to Phoenix rushing into the room. But her unblinking gaze was trained only on Jake. She choked on his name as it passed her lips, and he knew. The feeling encompassed him, penetrating his bones.  

"Where is she?"

—--

His heart cracked open and its contents spilled across the floor when he saw you huddled in the corner of the room with your face buried in your hands. Phoenix gave him a sympathetic look and he rushed over to you, crouching down and reaching out to touch your arm. When your head rose, your teary eyes went wide and you scrambled into his hold. Your arms were tight around him, but his were tighter, latching onto your body in relief. He’d feared the worst, that you had entirely run out on him, but this was better, in a way. At least you still wanted him. 

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"I-I can't." You mumbled into the fabric of his suit jacket. “I just can’t.”

He sighed before glancing up at his friends who stood off to the side, each with their own expression of concern. Bob was awkwardly messing with the ends of his own tie. Phoenix fiddled with her fingernail, red paint already chipping in some spots. And Coyote and Rooster kept looking back and forth between each other and the scene in front of them, unsure of the next move to make. 

Jake tucked his face in the crook of your neck, kissing softly along the column to try to calm you down.  "Ok," he whispered.

Phoenix's sharp inhale rose over the silence in the room, but Jake shook his head, stopping her before she had the chance to warn him of what was about to come if his fiancée didn’t walk down that aisle.

"I'm not forcing her to do this,” he said. You froze in his arms. He pulled back so he could put his hands on your damp reddened cheeks to tilt your face up to his. "Sweetheart, look at me. You're not twenty-one yet, ok?" His thumbs swiped away the fresh drops leaving your eyes. "You're not twenty-one for a while. They can't make us do anything today."

"Jake, they'll—"

"I don't care," he swore. "You want to go, let's go." He stood and pulled you with him. "Did you bring anything?"

"My clothes. And a bag. I'll get them," you said, shakily hurrying to the other side of the room.

Phoenix eased over to Jake. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" She whispered. "This could end up being—"

"I love her, Nat," he said softly. "What am I supposed to do? Drag her down the aisle?"

Her face fell further.

"That's not how this is supposed to be," he continued. "That's not how I want to marry her." His lips thinned as he watched you shove your stuff into a small tote. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"When we're gone, tell my mother." Jake met her stare. "No one else. My dad might not take this well, but she'll be able to calm him down."

"I'll take care of it."

"Thank you."

You rushed back over to him, your bag at your side, hidden partially by the layers of tulle of your gown. When Jake held out his hand, you took it. Your worried brow had yet to soothe but when he smiled reassuringly, the little wrinkle on your forehead faded. 

"Let's go," Jake said, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss. 

"We can't go home. Our parents will show up there eventually."

"Then we won't." 

—--

He'd missed eleven calls by the time you made it to a hotel and checked into a room. Seven from his mother, three from his father, and one from Phoenix, likely to inform him of all the ways things had gone to hell since you both disappeared. He didn’t care. Selfish as he knew it was, for you he was willing to let other people deal with this mess. His friends agreed to help—they knew he needed it now more than ever—so he let them. Jake’s priority was you and doing whatever he had to so you could inhale deeply enough to keep yourself from falling off the edge. 

The phone vibrated in his pocket again, and he all but chucked it across the room, letting it land safely on the mattress, but just barely. He’d preferred it to have broken. Then he could convince himself the rest of the world no longer existed. He could happily step into this space only the two of you occupied and remain there for the rest of his days. Hotel room or not, he’d grow old with you there if it meant being safe from anything that might dare to hurt you. 

He stripped his suit jacket and draped it across the back of a chair, then walked up behind you and tugged at the pieces of ribbon cinching your corset closed. They were silky between his fingertips as he pulled and unwove until the dress could slip easily over your hips. When you stepped out of the mass of bunched fabric on the floor, Jake felt his throat seize and mouth go dry. White lace bound your breasts, a little skirt made of the material barely covered your ass, and a thin delicate band was wrapped snugly midway up your thigh. Jake didn’t know whose idea it was to dress you in something so damn sinful—maybe yours, maybe even Phoenix’s, certainly not his mother’s—but he thanked god for the view in front of him. 

His belt was undone, the zipper down, and his cock strained against his underwear. You turned and he knelt before you. His hands traveled up the smoothness of your outer thighs, rising up under the skirt and lightly squeezing flesh. He leaned forward to kiss your navel, then his hands moved lower, fingers tucking into the elastic of the garter and dragging it down until it was free from your leg. Saying he wanted you was a gross understatement, but it wasn’t the time, so he stood and you continued to undress one another before he helped you into the shower. 

He let the water trickle over his skin, watching as droplets flowed in rivers down the planes of your back and over the swell of your ass and hips. As you scrubbed your face free of makeup, Jake began to wash the hairspray from your hair.

"Are you mad at me?" You asked. The first words you’d spoken since sneaking out of the venue. 

He paused, then his hands slid out of your hair, down your body to wrap around your waist. "No," he whispered, pulling your back to his chest and lazily planting kisses on your shoulder. "But we have to talk about it."

"I know."

—--

"Tell me what happened, sweetheart. I thought," he swallowed hard as he settled in a chair and took your hands in his, “I thought you wanted to marry me."

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, freshly showered and clothed in the jeans and tshirt you'd brought from the venue. You took a few deep breaths, preparing yourself to give him what he was owed. Marrying Jake was all you wanted, and you were terrified to explain why you had let him down. Though Jake was far from the type, the possibility that he could see it as not enough to walk out on your own wedding hung in the air. You didn't want him to be disappointed in you but you didn't have the choice to deny him. So you told him everything, watching the expression on his face twist and transform a dozen times as you spoke. 

"Un-fucking-believable," he said, standing straight and running his fingers through his blond locks. A wildness took root in his stare.

"Jake, I'm so sorry." You reached out for his hand, but his pacing kept him just out of reach. 

"I'm done." He growled, shaking his head. He finally stopped his harsh stomps to look at you. "We are not going to spend the rest of our lives playing games with this woman! I'm ending this…now."

"What are you going to do?"

"Find a way to release us from this fucking contract."

—--

George Seresin glared at you and Jake from where you sat on their living room couch and berated you for a half hour. Jake was silent the entire time, taking the brunt of the onslaught as he held tightly to your hand. You squeezed his fingers every time his father spit words of irresponsibility, but Jake didn't seem bothered. He was too pissed, and there wasn't room to care about his father's anger as well. 

Amelia finally managed to tame George’s temper, and the older man gave his son a chance to speak. But rather than Jake, you explained everything for the second time. 

"I understand your concerns," George said to you, but based on the deep crease between his brows, you weren’t so sure you believed it. "But you just walked out on my son. That is unacceptable."

"For fucks sake, dad, I went too! I held the damn door for her,” Jake snapped. His mother’s brow raised and she cleared her throat in the silence that followed your fiancé’s outburst. "Look, I know everyone is disappointed," he continued, "But I'm going to need you to look past that for the moment because we need out of this contract. And if you genuinely care about what we're facing—"

"Jake, dear, of course we care,” Amelia said.

"Then tell us what we can do."

George looked over every face in the room, from his son to his wife to you. You all shared the same expression—an odd, hardened desperation. He sighed, tense shoulders falling, and dropped into one of their leather armchairs. "Tell me more about what Deanna said. Start with the money."

Jake's thumb ran over the top of your hand, giving you the strength you needed. "My dad made some bad investments and everything they have will be gone in five years if the company goes to us. They won't be able to recuperate what they've lost."

“If it was investments then it must've been personal. If done through the company I would've known about it.”

“You would have had to agree to it?”

“Not exactly,” George said, leaning forward and resting his elbows atop his knees. “Our companies merged in that they work together but we kept our input and output independent. We're responsible for our own half. Which means your father is likely recycling the majority of his income so I don't know about it; there have been no red flags. But if they are so low in money that they're worried about going completely broke in half a decade then I will have to address a separate contract I have with your father.”

“What would happen?”

“He might have to forfeit his half of the company to me.”

George stared at you, and you back at him, both of you understanding that he had the power to ruin your family if what you were telling him was accurate. Despite coming from your mother’s mouth, you knew it had been the truth. When she looked at you the night before, she’d made it known that she believed she had you trapped in the palm of her hand. She’d surrendered her secrets, betting on your weakness to fall victim to her threats. 

Jake shattered the tension. “Can any of this get us out of our contract?” 

“No.”

“Why the hell not!”

Irritation radiated from Jake’s body to yours, tingling in every spot where bare skin met bare skin. You placed your hand on his cheek and turned his face to yours. “It’s ok,” you whispered, sure to keep his parents out of earshot. Jake’s brows relaxed. “Let’s just listen.”

His parents didn’t blink at the tenderness of the moment. You calmed him down, an ability few possessed. So they waited until the two of you looked back at them before George continued. 

“This doesn’t release you because your contract's standing doesn't have to do with the financial state of the families or the company,” George said. “It has always done so well that it didn't need to be a factor, and we knew you wouldn't inherit debt. But, as I said, if that's changed on Bill's end, then it's the business contract we share that must be addressed, not the one concerning the two of you.” His spine straightened in his chair and he crossed a leg over the other. “As for Deanna's threats–”

Jake perked, words rushing out as he said, “One party in this contract no longer feels safe with the other. That has to count for something.” 

“Initial argument, maybe. But a verbal threat based on the word of one person with no witnesses is not enough. If you want out of this contract, and to be granted a protective order, you'll need more against her.”

“Dad.”

“I'm sorry, son. These things just aren’t that simple.”

“There has to be–”

"I know where we can get more," you said. 

—--

Jake had groaned and grumbled the entire way, but not once did he argue with your decision. You were limited in options in that you had absolutely no others, and he knew it. 

“I’ll be right back,” you said, giving him a quick kiss before unbuckling your belt and hopping out of the truck. 

You didn’t see yourself ever coming back here. The bad memories were sharp little stabs to your body, a new poke with each step you took up the stone path to the door. Taking a deep breath, you raised your fist and pounded against the rust-red wooden slab. Seconds passed, and you were ready to knock again, but then the door pulled back. 

He looked worse than you remembered. His dark hair was scraggly, sticking up in odd directions as if he’d just woken up. A beard was beginning to hide his cheeks and chin. There was still some muscle tone to his arms, but not nearly as defined. He was always so focused on his appearance—making sure he stayed fit for any girl that glanced his way—but seeing him now, his priorities had clearly shifted. 

Jason’s eyes widened as he took you in. His mouth opened, closed, and opened again. With one hand he rubbed at his eyelid and the other reached up to scratch the back of his head. “Um…shit,” he blinked hard, giving his head a quick shake. “Not that, uh…not that I'm not happy to see your lovely face, sweetness, but I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed to talk to you.”

In that moment, you felt Jake come up behind you, and you internally rolled your eyes. You should’ve known he wouldn’t stay in the damn truck. Though you couldn’t deny the flutters that sprouted in your stomach when Jake’s protective nature kicked in. 

“I’ll make an exception,” Jake said, his voice stony, cold. “But I wouldn’t call her sweetness again if I were you.”

Jason’s gaze darted between you and Jake, struggling to process what was going on until, eventually, he sighed and gave up. “This is going to be a weird day, isn’t it?” he asked. Then he stepped aside, allowing you to pass the threshold into his home.

-----

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[saltsicklover]

Part Ten

I realized while writing this part that the description used, while vague, is likely to not included all body types when it comes to the Reader. Sunny is described as fitting into a shirt that either Phoenix or Bob could fit into, and I want to preface this with the fact that I wrote this as a midsize person, who does fit into a Men's Size Large shirt.

I recognize that is not the case for everyone, and I do not intend for my writing to offend or upset anyone. I do not subscribe to the idea that a woman, like in Sunny's case, or any other person needs to be able to fit into their partner's clothing. I myself do not fit into my husbands clothing and that is more than okay! In fact, it is moreally neutral!

If any of this makes you uncomfortable, feel free to skip this chapter.

This blog is a safe space for everybody, and everyBODY.

Title: Once an Asshole, Always an Asshole

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2800+

Rating: R

Warnings: Swearing, Tobacco, Smoking, Mention of Alien Abduction, Pet Name Usage (Honey), Bob being too sweet for his own good.

Second Chance Romance!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bob Floyd, or anything related to Top Gun Maverick within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

---

Sunny woke to a blanket of darkness, the night sky still starving off the morning sun, the smell of cherry tobacco light in the air. Her body feels stiff, likely from the awkward position she awoke in. With a stretch of her arms, her elbows both pop, the sound unpleasant to her ears. She throws her legs over the side of the bed, untangling the sheets from her body as she goes. A gentle sigh leaves her lips as she stretches the lower half of her body, rolling her ankles and flexing her toes. 

After a moment, she takes in the sight of her dress. The skirt is wound around her upper thighs, no longer covering most of her lower half. The sticky nametag from the night before is still stuck to the fabric. She looks around the room, eyes searching. Then she spots the small, crudely folded pile of clothes at the end of the bed. 

Sunny pulls her dress over her head, the fabric causing static to dance up her body. She throws the now wrinkled dress over the bottom of the bed before slipping the shirt over her naked top half. Who needs a bra, right? The shirt fits around her body, pulling just a little tighter around her butt. The dark navy shirt sports the words US NAVY across the chest, the navel emblem underneath. It's well warn soft, like it has been through the wash a little too much. Sunny then slips on the shorts. They are short, the t-shirt falls past them, down to the tops of her thighs. 

Sunny then pulls all of the pins from her hair. The relief is almost immediate as each pin finds itself in a pile on the long dresser across from the bed. Sunny runs her fingers over her scalp, letting her hair puff out of the twisted style she had it back in for almost twenty four hours. 

Sunny's eyes ache and the bloodshot color surprises her, even in the low light of the room. It shouldn't. Every woman has spent a night crying and paid for it in the morning, but the deep circles under her eyes and the reddened whites of her them take her aback. That's when the thirst hits her- the dehydration from crying having wrung her body of the extra moisture. 

She eyes the bathroom door with a thin lipped expression. Sunny could go in there, but there's always a chance that Bob didn't close his door. She couldn't chance waking him by flickering on the light, and she didn't trust herself to find her way around the new environment in the dark. Her luck, she'd knock something over and wake Bob. She couldn't have that, so her gaze flickers to the door to the hallway. 

No one is going to be up this early, she justifies, before slipping out the door. She closes it behind her as softly as she can, the click of the lock catching her attention. Sunny's eyes go wide at the sound. She sputters for a moment before jiggling the knob back and fourth, attempting to open the now locked door. 

"Fuck," she whispers hastily to herself, her forehead coming to rest against the cold wood of the door. She jiggles the handle one more time before deciding to venture to Natasha's room. When she gets there, she knocks, her knuckles as quiet as possible on the hardwood. 

No answer. 

She tries again, a little more forceful this time. Her knuckles hurt. 

Nothing. 

"Fuck," She mutters again. Sunny chances a look towards Bob's door before deciding better of it. She is not going to wake him just to get back into her room, and with Natasha out cold, she has no other choice up to go back to her previous task, getting water. 

Sunny patters down the hallway, keeping her footsteps as quiet as she can outside Bob's door before she disappears down the stairs. Her hands follow the textured walls, searching for a light switch when she meets the bottom. The kitchen is just to her left, the light switch not too far away. 

She flicks in on before going through the hanging cupboards. It feels strange, going through someone else's house like this. It's not like she is snooping, but somehow it still feels like an invasion of privacy. 

Spices, no.

Tupperware, no.

Plates and bowls, no. 

Cups and mugs, ah ha!

Sunny grabs a mug from the shelf. It reads, "Proud Pilot, Prouder to not be Air Force". She can't help but chuckle a bit dryly at the saying. Definitely something Natasha would say, she thinks, as she fills the mug with water from the tap. 

The water goes down like it's the first drink she has had in months. She grimaces a bit at the taste, having become accustomed to the water in Colorado, rich with natural minerals. Water here tastes different, maybe too smooth. She drinks another two glasses anyway before filling it up for a fourth time. Sunny wraps her hand securely around the mug before flicking off the light and returning to her bedroom predicament. 

She knocks on Natasha door one last time on her way by, her ear pressed to the cold wood. She can hear Natasha snoring softly on the other side. The sound brings a small smile to her lips as she tucks that little factoid in her back pocket to use for later. 

Then, Sunny walks back to her door. She tries the handle one last time and it doesn't budge. There is nothing she can do now, unless she wants to risk waking Bob- she doesn't. So, she slides her back down the door, leaning up against it. She pulls her knees to her chest, head leaning against the door jamb. She rests the mug next to her, letting her finger dance over the rim, taking in the light smell of cherry tobacco from down the hall as she fights off the ever growing urge to sleep again. 

---

Bob couldn't sleep. No matter how often he turned over, adjusting his body or the sheets around him. He flipped the pillow so often that neither side was cold, he stared at the ceiling until he thought a hole might open up and suck in through. He prayed for sleep, and when that didn't come, he asked the universe to grace him with an alien abduction. Anything to get him out of his mind and closer towards rest- and if that meant that he needed to be abducted and put to sleep so that another life form could prob him for scientific gain, so be it. 

When the aliens didn't come either, Bob finally decides that he needs to get out of his bedroom. He pulls on his clothes from the night before, finding them each in their own degrees of inside out and wrinkled. As he pulls his belt through the loops of his jeans he can't help but let his gaze drift towards the bathroom door. He knows that Sunny is not more than fifteen feet away, just on the other side of the bathroom- which is another reason he needs to get out of his room. Hell, he needs out of the house. So, he finishes dressing, pulling his shirt over his head and replacing his glasses as he heads for the door. 

The sight of his cowboy hat on the hook next to the door stops him in his tracks. He looks at it for only a second before swiping it off the hook and continuing his trek out of the house. He knows his home like the back of his hand, so he navigates it completely in the dark, disappearing out of the front door with almost no sound. 

Darkness still has ahold of the sky, it's blueness deep and cavernous. Bob swears he can almost make out Cygnus, the swan, but the light pollution from the city makes it difficult to be sure. As Bob climbs into his truck he yearns for the clear sky's of Florence; the ability to see the constellations without difficulty. 

He remembers being able to see Sunny's face, with the light of the moon and stars on their prom night. He remembers how the low light shown in her eyes and off the embellishments of her dress. He remembers how he hair looked with the light of the moon shown upon it. 

The thoughts come faster than Bob can stop them, and he finds himself itching for just a bit more of her, a bit more of that night, a bit more of his life before he blew it all up. His hand drifts to his back pocket in search of his cigarette case, but he comes up empty. 

Bob huffs in exhaustion, turning on his heel to walk the block back to his house. He's thankful he didn't make it further before realizing his mistake. He retraces his steps slowly, slipping in the front door silently. He is met with expectant darkness as he stalks up the stairs, his boots feeling heavier with each step, weighing him down. 

What Bob didn't expect, however, is Sunny's sleeping form propped up against the door of the guest room, her head leaned against the door jamb. Bob blinks a few times from his spot just atop the landing as he tries to make the scene before him make sense. He can't make out much more detail than the way her body is slumped against the door and the way her forehead is pressed against the jamb, but he looks at her anyway, truly taking her in for the first time since her arrival. 

He dares a few steps closer after she doesn't stir at his presence. His boots sound impossibly loud against the hardwood floor. Suddenly, Natasha's idea of a carpet runner for the hallway didn't seem so silly. 

From closer up, he can take in just a bit more detail. The way her hair has fallen into her face and the clothes she has changed into. His heart beats just a bit faster as he takes in her new clothes, from the barely there shorts that stretch around the fullness of her thighs to the t-shirt that hands loosely around her shoulders. The partially obscured graphic causes him to lean forward just a bit, squinting his eyes. 

The large, golden crest the peaks out from beneath her arm makes his heart hammer against his chest, his ribs almost cracking under it's pressure. Bob knows that shirt, and he knows that if Sunny were to lean forward the words "NAS LEMOORE" would be printed across the back, right across her shoulder blades. 

Bob bites at his lips, sucking them back into his mouth, between his teeth. Natasha has never been stationed in Lemoore, not that Sunny would have known that to, but the fact that she now lays in it, asleep on the floor makes Bob blush red. His feelings are all tangled up in his chest, knotted together and pulled tight. 

But the longer he looks at her, the more uncomfortable she looks with her back pressed against the door. So, Bob takes a leap of faith, stepping closer and closer to her before he kneels down beside her. He carefully takes her wrist in between his thumb and fingers, lifting it slightly to move it from atop the mug. He takes the mug in his other hand, moving it down a few feet and out of the way. He sets her hand carefully over her stomach, sandwiched between it and her knees, right along with the other. 

Carefully, he brushes a thumb across her cheek, his touch barely there. Her skin is just as soft as he remembers and he can't help his but let his thumb run over her cheek once more. 

"Sunny," He whispers, his barely making it to his own ears. 

She doesn't stir. He shakes his head to himself, a feeling of longing deep from within now bubbling to the surface, coming to sit just under his skin. He lets out a deep sigh before trying again. 

"Duchenne, honey?" The name feels foreign to his tongue but the term of endearment feels right at home. 

Sunny still doesn't stir. So, Bob debates his next move. He could wake her, and risk her yelling at him again, or worse, punching him. Not that he wouldn't deserve it. No, he couldn't chance a bad reaction. 

Plan B, he thinks, he could hook his arm underneath her bent legs and slip his other between the gap of her body and the door. He could pick her up and take her back to bed himself- but that seems like a bad idea. What if he woke her? How would she react? 

Bob's eyes drift to Phoenix's door and he decides that's the best option. So, he stands, moving towards her room. When he knocks, he can hear her snoring from his side. He knocks, but there is zero surprise when she doesn't wake. Bob tires the nob but it doesn't move, not that Bob is surprised by that fact either. She has always slept locked in her room and nothing short of an alarm at full blast, right next to her ear would be enough to wake her. 

So, Bob turns back to Sunny, left with only one real choice. So, he squats down next to her, lacing his arms around her body and lifting her from the ground. She makes a small noise at the change but doesn't wake. Her head rests against Bob's shoulder, her cheek pressed against the softness of his shirt. 

He bends a bit to open the door, but the knob doesn't budge. Bob lets out a sigh, the pieces falling into place. She has been locked out, of course, that damn lock has been temperamental since he moved in, but never bothered to fix it. 

So, he walks her down the hall and into his bedroom. It's strange to hold a woman in a room he has never invited one back to- it's even more strange that the woman in his arms in the one he has held a torch for, for so many years. 

Bob tries not to let himself think about that fact for too long before he is carefully opening the bathroom door and carrying her through. When he finally gets her back into her room, he places her carefully down on the sheets. They have gone cold in the time she has been gone, so Bob pulls the sheet and comforter up over her body. He stares down at her a second, brushing her hair from her face. Her lips curl up at the corners and the sight warms Bob's heart. 

Quickly, he disappears back out into the hall to retrieve the mug of water from the ground. He places it on the bedside table, right in reach for her. Then, he grabs a hanger from the closet. Bob takes her dress from the bottom of the bed and carefully threads the straps over the arms of the hanger. He hangs it up on the nob of the closet door, right in her line of sight. 

Then, Bob chances one more look at her sleeping form. He lets his eyes trace down the slope of her nose and over the plump ridges of her upper lip. He watches for a moment as she breathes just a bit deeper as she snuggles further down into the blankets. 

"Goodnight, honey," Bob whispers, before disappearing back into his room, his heart still stuttering in his chest. 

As he closes the door, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. There stands a man he hasn't seen in years, looking more like a kid staring back at him. He is all consumed by the sight of himself, from the hat on his head to the clothes he wears. Bob slips his glasses off, leaning closer to the mirror. A deep, doe eyed expression stares back at him, his brown eyes swimming with the sight of himself. He looks older now, than the last time he recognized himself like this, but he recognizes himself none the less.

He leans against the countertop, hands planted firmly on the edge of the sink. It might be his proximity to Sunny, or the clothes that fit around his muscular frame, but his lips quirk up into a hint of a smile. His eyes dart around his own face in the reflection of the bathroom mirror, and for the first time in God only knows how long, he likes the man staring back at him. 

And somehow, he feels just a little bit closer to the man he yearns to be; a good man. 

~ Once an Asshole TAG LIST ~

@harperdoodle

[une-femme-de-lettres]

Insubordination | Part 1

Summary: Tired of fixing up things after Kizaru’s messing ups, Akainu hires an assistant to help his colleague perform his duties correctly. A good idea it seemed, until Kizaru’s natural extraversion got the best of you.

Characters: Kizaru, Akainu, Assistant!Reader

Parings: Kizaru|Borsalino x Assistant!Reader

Word count: 2800

Warnings: Smut, explicit sexual content (not in this part)

A/N: Finally writing some real stuff for Kizaru! I enjoy this so much so far! (I had to split this one into two part cause it was getting way too long)

‘Focused’ wasn’t exactly an appropriate adjective to describe Admiral Kizaru, especially when it came to his position and work in the Marines. Akainu, on the other hand, was a very thorough and observant man, so he made a point, as soon as he got promoted to the place of Fleet Admiral, to hire an assistant for his ever-distracted colleague.

Hiring an assistant for an officer of the Marines wasn’t unseen, but it was rather rare, as most of the typical work of an assistant was often given to subordinates. You had been selected after a series of various interviews and tests. The final step of this process had led you to Admiral Akainu’s office, where you frankly hoped you would never have to face him again.

All this was about three months ago. By now, you had gotten used to working for the admiral. Reports, dispatch orders, meetings, general paperwork, you got to take care of everything. It wasn’t exactly an easy work due to the amount of things to do in one day, but you quickly got the hang of it. The work was fulfilling when, at the end of the week, you knew every little thing was sorted out and taken care of, and your boss was satisfied.

Today was another normal day. It was pretty quiet in the headquarters as a bunch of Marines were dispatched somewhere on an island nearby. It was indeed quiet, yet you were quite restless. It was precisely thirty four minutes past nine and Kizaru hadn’t shown up to work yet.

You mindlessly took a glance at the clock sitting on your desk while filing some documents in anticipation for a meeting you had to attend later that day. You put the file aside on your desk and sighed, pressing the palms of your hands on the fabric of your pencil skirt.

Kizaru being late to work wasn’t unheard of. But you had promised Admiral Akainu to make sure he was on time, if not early, from now on. That proved to be a difficult task as the man was rarely responding to his baby den den mushi, probably most of the time because he forgot how to turn it on.

However, outside his mishaps and overall carelessness, working with him wasn’t all that bad. He was always kind and respectful to you. He was also very friendly, which you appreciated as you spent most of your day in the headquarters where practically no one talked to you unless they had some business with Kizaru.

He always greeted you with a warm smile when he got to work, often time complimenting you in some way. Unbeknownst to you, you had grown eager to hear his praising every morning. You had slowly noticed your mood change drastically when he was around. You had first blamed it on the lack of social interaction in your workplace. But you eventually realized that you might actually have a slight crush on your superior. Slight…

Your days usually went the same. He would come to work and you would brief him about the things to do today. He would listen to you religiously and you would smile, knowing part of your job was already done. And sometimes, just like a few days ago, he would go a little further to make sure you knew your presence was appreciated.

“You look very elegant today, Y/N,” he said with a smile as he passed by your desk, “it’s always a pleasure to have you around.”

“Ah, thank you Admiral…” you responded, smiling back, your head bowing ever so slightly in gratitude. You felt heat rise to your face at his words and mindlessly lifted your hand above your head to check no stand of hair was loose in your hair-do.

Most days went like that. You would often times find yourself both very pleased and awkward in the face of his compliments and praises. Put secretly, in the dead of night, these scenes from the past day would replay in your mind. And you would imagine more. More praises, more smiles… touches and moans…

But today wasn’t one of those days, you reminded yourself as you looked over at your clock. You honestly didn’t know what to do with yourself now that you had sorted everything out for the day. You were just missing one key element, him.

You frantically typed the number of his den den mushi, simultaneously grabbing the receiver. As you were about to finish dialing the number, Kizaru’s tall figure finally appeared at the corner of the hallway. You sighed and hang up, waiting for him to get to your desk.

He was walking fairly nonchalantly, seemingly distracted by a few marines passing by him on his way to you. You trotted towards him as to not waste any more time.

“Where have you been?” you asked, practically scolding him while trying to rid him of his coat. “If he sees you arriving late, my job is on the line,” you said, leaving him to go and hang the heavy white garment on the coat rack.

“Sorry, I got distracted on my way,” he said apologetically, scratching the back of his head. “And you know I would never let that happen,” he added as he was following you inside his office. He sat at his desk as you quickly laid out the files your prepared for today.

“You could’ve warned be, I’ve been trying to reach you,” you said, glancing at him briefly. He nodded and reached into the interior pocket of his jacket, getting out his baby den den mushi.

“This thing won’t work ever since yesterday,” he said, his voice lowering awkwardly the more he spoke. You held out your hand to take the snail.

“You’ve got to turn it on, like this, watch,” you explained calmly, showing him the proper way to use it before handing it back to him.

You didn’t waste any more time and opened the first file on the desk. You started going over each task you had to do complete today. He listened to you in silence, never interrupting. You could see he was finally making the effort to focus on his work and it gave you a rush of confidence.

“What would I do without you, Y/N?” he finally said once you were done, his eyes fixed onto yours, his gaze filled with awe. You chuckled awkwardly at his words and felt yourself getting distracted again by the praise.

“I’m glad I can be of service to you, Admiral,” you said with a serious tone and a strong nod, trying to collect your thoughts.

You quickly got started on your day after that. It went quite smoothly from then on. Kizaru seemed to make a point to stay focused, as if to compensate for his late arrival this morning. You were quite appreciative of this and it made you hopeful. He was more and more inclined to follow your advice these past few weeks and it seemed like your efforts were paying off.

________

“Hey, Y/N.” Kizaru’s voice got your out of a very monotonous session of typewriting as he approached the front of your desk. Hands in his pockets, he bent over ever so slightly to talk to you. “I’d like to take you out for lunch today,” he said. You paused your task to listen and reflect on his proposition.

“I’d love to, but,” you started.

“Alright, great!” he announced with a smile and a clap of his hands. He was a little too excited as you tried to tell him this wouldn’t work out. You stood up and walked to the side of your desk.

“Admiral, the meeting is at twelve o’clock,” you said, trying to catch his gaze with your eyes. “Surely the representatives will have planned something to eat during the meeting,” you explained as he looked at you. He seemed a bit disappointed but still determined.

“Well, I’d prefer we go out,” he said, bending towards you again, a little closer this time as he tried to keep his voice low. “We’ll be back before anyone notices,” he assured you. You sighed, crossing your arms while holding his gaze. “And before the meeting, I promise,” he added in a quiet voice.

“Fine,” you let out, rolling your eyes slightly.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he replied with the enthusiasm you liked to hear in his voice. He smiled widely and suddenly pulled you into a hug of sorts. You didn’t have time to fully register his movement when he planted a dramatic kiss on your temple. You gasped and felt your face heat up as he let go and walked back to his office to grab his coat. You took a moment to regain your senses as you could still feel his arms around you. So warm…

“Don’t thank me until we get away with it,” you said with a chuckle as he passed you again, handing you your own exterior garment to put on.

________

You had to give him that, it was surely good thinking on his part. You definitely needed some time to breathe outside and away from your desk. You were used to him being very talkative all the time but you hadn’t expected to talk that much yourself.

You had been conversing about a dozen of different topics by the time your waiter brought you your desserts. From the way you spent daily life, the hobbies you were interested in in your spare time, your family and history all the way to funny anecdotes that were almost irrelevant for the conversation but that you were eager to share. You had talked about anything and everything.

He talked to you too, of course, it wasn’t a one way conversation. But he mostly listened. You could feel your heart beat slightly faster when he reacted to your words, whether in surprise, enthusiasm or laughter. Sometimes when he would go on about his young years in the marines, you would catch yourself staring into his eyes for a little too long. Then, you would look down briefly to your plate and rearrange your clothes in a quick flick of your wrist.

You found it very easy to talk to him. So easy in fact that when you heard ringing of his den den mushi in the pocket of his jacket, your heart skipped a beat. You both paused for a second and he watched your eyes widen. The waiter approached with the check and you didn’t know what possessed you when you bent over the table to grab your superior’s wrist, turning it briefly to look at his gold plated watch.

Quarter past twelve.

“Shit,” you let out, abruptly standing from your seat and gathering your belongings. “Shit,” you repeated, unable to find anything else to describe the situation. You gestured for your superior to start packing too as he was still stunned from your previous action.

The waiter watched you both quickly pack up everything and quietly thanked Kizaru when he left a consequent amount of money on the table, telling him to keep the change.

In one swoop, you were both out of the restaurant into the streets. You kept a fast pace, almost running towards your destination as you cursed your superior for letting you get distracted and for laughing the way he did.

You slowed down for a mere second and gripped his forearm tightly, trying to get him to move quicker. He burst out laughing. A laughter, which to your surprise and displeasure, was very infectious. Your heart was beating fast from the adrenaline rushing through your veins and you found yourself chuckling as he caught up with you, bending to speaking closer to your ear.

“Come on, Y/N,” he started, “isn’t it fun to break the rules sometimes?” he asked with a genuine smile. You looked at him from the corner of your eyes, suddenly painfully aware of the way your hand held his arm. You watched him sustain eye contact for a few seconds, waiting for an answer. You couldn’t help the smile blooming on your lips.

“It’s quite… exciting,” you let out, looking forward again.

“Good,” you heard him say, as he smiled from the corner of his lip.

You had to give him that, the rush you felt in this instant, in this setting, was something you had longed to feel for quite some time now.

________

Despite your late arrival, the meeting took place as planned. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, expect for you. It had been a very slowly and painful torture session as your boss, Fleet Admiral Skazuki stared at you for the whole duration of the meeting. You had forced yourself to put on your best show of discipline and thoroughness before him, listening attentively to what was said and taking rigorous notes.

But this wasn’t enough to distract him from what had just happened. And a sense of impending doom washed over you as he immediately directed you to his office once the meeting was done. You had no way out of this situation and you briefly looked back to Kizaru for some sort of support, only finding him being held back into another conversation.

He looked back at you, his eyes suddenly darkening as he caught a glimpse of your distress. The last image you caught was of him trying to cut the conversation short.

You hadn’t expected to find yourself in that office so soon. And you surely hadn’t planned on facing him again, at least not in this setting. You stood straight, your hands gathered in front of you with your head slightly bent forward.

“You are supposed to keep him in check,” he started through greeted teeth, standing in front of you, towering over you. “that is what I hired you for!” he finished, his voice slightly louder despite himself as he tried to contain his fury. “So do your damn job!”

You flinched slightly at his words and bent further down in apology.

“I’m deeply sorry, Sir,” you said, trying to put as much confidence in your voice as possible. “This won’t happen again,” you said with a nod, straightening up to face him fully again when Kizaru came barging through the door behind you.

“Don’t you dare blame her,” he warned, quickly approaching his colleague, pointing a threatening finger at him. “She had no say in this!” he added, making your eyes widen slightly.

You watched Akainu pounder his option, his gaze blazing with rage against his colleague. He briefly looked back at you before turning fully to Kizaru again.

“And you’d do better to remember to do your job as well,” he snapped back, approaching dangerously close to his colleague. They remained still and silent for a few seconds. They said nothing but the look in their eyes were worth a thousand words. You feared a fight would break you here and there if they continued like this. Fortunately, Akainu stepped back, his face keeping that stern look, his demeanor still firm and commanding.

“This is the first time I have to say this,” he started speaking again, looking at Kizaru and you in turn, making you shiver slightly. “And I hope for you it is also the last.”

The walk back to Kizaru’s office was silent. You made your best effort to keep tears at bay as your mind reminisced of the altercation. This man had that effect on you. You were scared shitless, to be crude and honest.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Kizaru’s voice pulled you out of your trance as you stood motionless in his office. He then took your shaky hand in his and rubbed his thumb on the back of it. His hand was warm and his gentle touch made your heart flutter and your mind switch back to reality.

“I’m good, thank you, I…” you started speaking, slowly retrieving your hand despite your longing. “It can be fun sometimes, but…” you said, mindlessly pulling your hand close to your chest and rubbing it slightly where he had held it a few seconds prior. “No more of this, please…” you finished playfully.

“No more, I promise,” he assured you, raising his hands slightly. “I’d hate to see you lose your job because of me,” he added, his voice soft and quiet.

“And I’d hate to have to leave you,” you said with a soft sincere voice. There was something else in that voice, something deeper than the simple amity that was due between you and your superior. And you immediately corrected yourself, fearing you might be forgetting yourself, “Sir.”

You fled his gaze, noticing from the corner of your eyes his lips bend into a gentle smile. He said nothing more.

Hopefully this motivates me to finally write that second part !

Edit : here is part 2!

[aeor-is-for-reccing]

Shadowgast Recs: Featuring Astrid or Eadwulf

This week we have nine recs for fics that feature Astrid and/or Eadwulf behind the cut! Don't forget to comment or kudos on the stories!

Hard Mouth by road_rhythm (216254,Explicit) Warnings: Generally dark, torture, author chose not to warn.

While the Nein are in Aeor, Trent uses the dream spell to invade Caleb's mind. Things get worse from there.

Reccer says: The writing is extremely vivid and the story engrossing, but I also adore this version of Astrid

More Things than Heaven and Earth by kaeda (76998,Mature) Warnings: None

Caleb and Essek find themselves transported to what appears to be the plot of Tusk Love.

Reccer says: The fic starts off as a romp but consistently chooses to allow all of the characters a surprising amount of depth. Features a great Astrid and Eadwulf

Neighborhood Watch by timbrene (2800,Teen) Warnings: None!

Astrid notices a disguised Essek has set up residence at Caleb's home and sets out to investigate what he could be plotting.

Reccer says: Astrid and Eadwulf are both perfect in this, especially Astrid; her certainty that "Bren" is getting manipulated by this Dynasty elf who's definitely a threat to national security is such a funny messed-up Volstrecker twist on being concerned for your friend. It's heartwarming and will put a smile on your face.

look forward lest the past catch up by iniquiticity (11328,Explicit) Warnings: None

Astrid saves Essek from an assassination attempt, leaving him with a newfound appreciation for his own life.

Reccer says: There's just something about a near death experience that makes you want to go desperately make out with your sort of boyfriend, and this fic really captured that.

do you have enough love in your heart, to go and get your hands dirty? by SaltCore (4355,Mature) Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence (offensive dunamancy), mentions of torture

Getting Bren out of a tight spot forced you into uncomfortable company, Astrid. As his friend heals him, take a little time to think about one member of the Mighty Nein, the one who helped, the one you trust the least.

Reccer says: This is a beautiful example of the "Astrid and Essek hissing at each other like angry cats because they're both concerned about Caleb" genre. The prose is gorgeous and very vivid, Astrid's POV is cutting and feels so much like her. All the characters are perfect. Highly recommend it.

you are what we could've been by vagabondfirelilly (2744,General) Warnings: None

Caleb lets it slip that he is married to Essek, while in the presence of his former lovers.

Reccer says: Very bittersweet, it's lovely to think about Caleb and Essek being married, but between the fic being written from Eadwulf's perspective, and the reaction this revelation illicits from Astrid, there's a real sense of pain and loss from what could've been.

The Annual Rexxentrum Cat Show by hanap (776,Teen) Warnings: None

Four wizards engage in many shenanigans to try winning the prestigious Annual Rexxentrum Cat Show.

Reccer says: It's fun! All four of this group really show off their wizardly competitive spirit in this fic, and it's a delight to read.

Cultivate a space for the things that hurt you most by PryingBlackbird (102212,Mature) Warnings: Main-character death (gets resurrected), Trent Ikithon, Blumenkids backstory

Astrid, Caleb, Eadwulf and Essek are complicated people who each battle their own demons. Their pahths keep crossing during this alternate retelling of late C2.

Reccer says: It creates a narrative of late C2 that features Astrid and Wulf more heavily and also has some nice Shadowgast slowburn. Also so much angst. The ending is a good one and a bit different from the campaign.

I'd hate to put us up against yesterday by joldiego (1485,Teen) Warnings: Feeblemind

Caleb and Essek show up at Astrid's place badly hurt; Essek under feeblemind

Reccer says: It's a very promising start, and I love the Astrid point of view

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast.Have any questions about what this is?

Check out the FAQ! Next week’s theme is Wild Magic!

[spacemagicandlaserswords]

Open and Waiting (Chapter 5)

Summary: You try out something new with Tech. As it turns out, like with pretty much everything, he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

Relationship: Tech x f!reader (mention of Crosshair x f!reader, Hunter x f!reader if you squint)

NSFW 18+ only. Further details and warnings below the cut. Please read the warnings.

Chapter Summary: Tech gets a little rough and then goes to town on your neck with his mouth. You’re reminded of Crosshair’s fondness for nipple clamps and the various times he’s used them on you. And then feelings appear again in the form of healthy kink practices.

Warnings: NSFW, smut, cock warming, domination, submission, Dominant Tech, submissive reader, drool/saliva, cock ring, mouth finger fucking, verbal degradation, naked reader, praise kink, oral kink, use of the word slut to refer to reader, possession, mental domination, humiliation, rough play, physical restraint, marking, nipple clamps, labia clamps, weights, chains, vaginal fingering, punishment, voyeurism, healthy kink practices (not sure this is really a warning but couldn’t think of anywhere else to put it), feelings, porn with feelings, Star Wars swearing, not beta read, no use of y/n. Mentions of: Temperature play

Word Count: 2800  

Author’s Notes: Please read the warnings! And please let me know if you enjoyed it. Comments feed my soul etc etc.

There’s not many ‘Mentions of’ warnings for this chapter as the reminiscing sections (as I’ve been calling them) are quite detailed and make up half the chapter. So pretty much everything that appears is listed in the warnings section instead. I’m doing warnings for each chapter along with some standard themes that appear throughout all or most of the fic, hence why they keep changing for each chapter. Hopefully I’ve mentioned everything but if I’ve missed any, please let me know!

Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Six | Ao3  

–––

Open and Waiting (Chapter 5)

I’m beginning to wonder if this is going to go on for another 3 hours and 16 minutes. Being prepped and teased and played with for hours sounds utterly torturous. Although, if it means I get four cocks instead of one then that is a sacrifice I am willing to make. Or at least try. I’m not sure how much longer I could last. Tech’s fingers filling and owning my mouth is a heavenly mix of sensation and ignominy but I am craving more. Apparently being made to drool all over yourself and have your mouth used as a personal lube dispenser isn’t enough humiliation. 

Perhaps Sir could be ever so kind as to consider impaling me on his cock instead? 

I must make the mistake of letting my distraction show on my face as suddenly Tech grips my hair tightly, twists, and pulls my head back sharply. A startled noise escapes my throat as my eyes widen and breath quickens. The lights above are shining straight in my eyes and blowing out my vision like some kind of low grade interrogation. My throat is open and exposed, the skin stretched taut, and I warily glance over at where I think Tech is out of the corner of my eye. Another ridiculously garbled noise leaves me and I realise that Tech’s fingers have followed me to my new trapped position, never shifting from their place of dominion over my mouth.       

Tech leans down next to my head, his tall frame looming over me and blocking out the light like an eclipse blotting out the sun. A deadly voice purrs low next to my ear.   

“Coat my fingers with your slobber properly, slut. You will need it later on.”

Oh, please Sir. Please.

I let out an utterly ridiculous begging pleading noise that descends into repeated tiny gasping mewls that end up in time with my shuddering. Almost like I’m throwing a tantrum about not being allowed to suck on his fingers like some kind of new-born foal. Maybe the bratty version of me would throat a tantrum but all I want to be is good for him.

I twitch and squeak as Tech runs his hot, wet tongue along the shell of my ear before leaning back to regard me once more.  

Those brown eyes sparkle behind his goggles as he scoffs in amusement.

“So needy.” he smoothly observes.

A desperate gurgle is all he gets in response. 

I’m sure the terrified whites of my eyes must be plainly evident by now. Usually Hunter is the one to indulge in this sort of thing but right now I feel completely trapped beneath Tech. He could do whatever he wants to me. 

And I’d let him.    

Tech leans down again to pick up right where he left off, suckling on my earlobe and worrying it between his teeth. He moves to work at a spot high up on my neck and I’m shaking and gasping beneath him, quickened breaths turning to panting. He’s alternating between laving, mouthing, sucking, and biting at the spot he’s picked. 

I know what this is. 

I’m being marked. 

Claimed as his.      

The bruise left in his wake will be in plain sight for all to see. None of my clothes have necklines that high and I always wear my hair up so the mark on my neck will be impossible to miss. Everyone will know what happened and who I belong to.

At least until we have to slap some bacta on it to make it quickly disappear before we go out on a mission or land somewhere Republic related. 

But at the moment, that doesn’t matter. For now, I’m his, and Tech is making damn sure that everyone knows it.

The sharp edge of his incisors run down the tendon in my neck and I twitch and gasp. I can feel him smiling against my skin. The absolute bastard. 

Tech finishes drawing his line of white hot fire down my neck by licking at the hollow of my throat before leaning back to regard his efforts with a critical eye, head cocked to the side.

“That should be sufficient.” he comments idly.

The tight grip on my hair relents as Tech moves his hand to the back of my head, thumb brushing over the mark he’s made. I shiver at the touch but I daren’t move. Sir has not released me from this position.

Tech brushes his thumb over the spot again before pushing down on the bruised area, a solid application of steady force keeping me in my place. The pressure feels divine and I can feel more of my inhibitions slide away as I sink further into submission. I gaze at him through half-lidded eyes as I pant softly around his fingers. Two sharp, brown eyes keep me pinned in place just as much as the hand gripping my neck.   

“Now, what does this signify?” he asks coolly.

“That I’m yours Sir.” I answer as best I can manage without the full use of my mouth.

“And who do you belong to?” he follows up with.

“You Sir.” I immediately reply.

“Good.”

The pressure on the spot on my neck relents and I moan and shudder at the release. It feels similar to the nipple clamps Crosshair is so fond of using. The sensation of them closing over my tight, erect buds is utterly exquisite but the release. Oh, the release. When my poor little squished nipples are finally freed and the clamps are taken off, the release is an all consuming wave of sensation that has been enough to push me over the edge. I’d been completely blindsided by that when it first happened, shaking through my sudden orgasm with a startled expression on my face. Mouth open in equal parts surprise and pleasure. 

Crosshair had been delighted at this discovery. 

I hadn’t seen him quite so pleased with something since he last nailed twenty droids with a single bounced shot. 

The ever so slight problem is that once Crosshair discovers something he likes, he refuses to let it go. And apparently torturing my nipples falls into this category of new favourite fascination. I quite like the nipple clamps by themselves, they’re most enjoyable and I’ve worn them for hours before. The chain bouncing against my chest and the clamps poking against my shirt, a clear reminder of what I’m wearing underneath. 

It’s when he adds weights to the damn things and ratchets up the clamping force that it becomes a whole new level of torture. Oh, and pulling on them. Crosshair finds a deeply sadistic pleasure in leading me around by my tits, pulling at the chain hanging between the clamps and stretching out my trapped nipples. He’s got this special pair called a monarch nipple vice. They’re a gorgeous piece of silverware and they look beautiful when I’m wearing them but they have an evil little secret. The more the chain is pulled the tighter the clamps get. 

And Crosshair loves to yank any kind of chain.      

All of this pales in comparison to when the tightly wound, fiercely compressing clamps are removed and all the blood rushes back to my poor, abused nipples. The sudden, intense pain is like a spike straight through them and mixes with the heady relief of release in an intense sensation that has me thrashing and making noises like a wounded animal. The tighter the clamps and the more weight that is pulling on them, the more acute the pain, the more overwhelming the experience, and the greater my reaction is.      

Crosshair knows this. And he knows that I know this. And he knows that I know that he knows this. 

So he uses it to his full advantage, mercilessly torturing and dominating me as he casually plays with my nipples without a care in the world. The threat of the incoming pain that he holds in his hand wielded just as effectively as one of his stinging slaps across my ass. I’ve been reduced to begging and pleading with him not to release the clamps even though my nipples were aching and throbbing. This usually gets me a dangerous smile full of teeth as he continues to toy with me before showing exactly no mercy and instantly releasing a clamp. 

I’d accidentally sworn at him once when he did this. I didn’t mean to. It just came out. But boy did I regret it. I instantly knew I’d screwed up and had gaped up at him in horror, only to be met with a thunderous look. An iron grip on my jaw swiftly followed, forcing my mouth open, and a hissed snarl conveyed every ounce of just how pissed off my current Dom was. 

I don’t think I’ve ever grovelled harder in my life. 

It made no difference. 

The other nipple had taken the punishment and by the time Crosshair had finished it was marked, purple, and had the most weights I’ve ever taken hanging off the clamp like some kind of sadistic tree decoration. Every movement was agony and I was sobbing so hard that my tears ran all the way down my neck and chest to drip off the very nipples that had put me in that predicament in the first place.  

I’d collapsed on him when Crosshair finally flicked off the instant release on the remaining nipple clamp. After being unceremoniously deposited on the floor, it was only then, through my blurry tear filled vision, that I saw the shape of Hunter casually leaning against the door frame, watching my whole sorry spectacle. 

He’d heard me swear and decided to come and watch the show, as he put it later when handing over two wrapped ice packs as I lay against Crosshair’s chest. Each ice pack was laid gently over my breasts, covering my nipples, and kept in place with his broad hands, long fingers splayed to wrap around each breast and keep me tucked against his chest. The relief was so welcome but the sudden cold was biting and I didn’t know whether to sink into it or shy away. After that particular scene, my poor addled brain hadn’t known what to do so I’d just ended up shifting and whining in confusion. Which may have been a mistake as they’d both shared a knowing look at my reaction. Not that I could’ve done anything about it at that point. I was a boneless mess in my dominants arms and Crosshair kept me cradled against him, both of his hands encompassing my breasts. The soothing coolness of the ice packs relieving my sore nipples as he nuzzled my neck and told me what a good girl I’d been for him.

I’m guessing temperature play is probably going to make an appearance eventually.    

My nipples aren’t the only place Crosshair has enjoyed attaching clamps to me. I’ve also had them gripped onto my labia majora and minora, the chain dangling below me, bumping into my inner thighs every time I moved. A reminder of exactly where my current dominant had clamped his control around me. We’d had one session where he’d gotten rather creative, multiple clamps gripping lightly on my sensitive flesh, silver chains framing my vulva like delicate jewellery, dripping down to hang below me. 

I’d felt like a rare recherché treasure and he’d treated me like one.   

That isn’t usually how sessions with Crosshair go and he’d been true to form next time. If you think weights attached to tight clamps on your nipples are bad, it’s much worse when they’re attached to your labia. 

I’d howled. 

Crosshair had just smiled like a shark and added more weights to the damn things.    

There’s no chance that I’d be spared by the clamps or chains breaking either. Tech has made all of them, so of course they’re perfectly constructed. He’s fastidious about the detail and I’d had to stay there for quite a while as he made adjustments to the length of the chain and the gripping mechanism on the first set of nipple clamps. I’d sat there like the perfect little subject, naked from the waist up, hands clasped behind me, spine straight, shoulders back, tits out, posture absolutely perfect. Every time Tech removed the clamps to adjust something, his leather gloves would brush over my sensitive buds and I’d have to fight not to react. By the end of it I’d been so aroused that my wetness had seeped through my pants, which was plainly obvious given that my legs were wide open as I straddled the bench I’d been told to stay put on. After Tech was satisfied with his work, I’d been presented to Crosshair for approval, which involved even more touching of my overly sensitive nipples. By the time Crosshair had finished inspecting me, I was a barely contained, shivering wreck. 

All of my self discipline had been worth it though for the reward they gave me after. I’d been pressed against Crosshair’s chest as he continued to play with me, tugging on the chain and running his nails over and around the sensitive tips of my nipples that were trapped in the clamps. Tech had crowded over me as he slid his hand into my pants, parting my lips and easily sliding his fingers inside me, pumping them in and out of my pussy as I was made to shake apart on his fingers and cum in my pants multiple times.

I’d had to put them straight in the wash after that. 

The architect of my undoing, in more ways than one, is currently observing me critically like he did back when he was working on that first set of nipple clamps. His thumb is now rubbing soft little circles over the bruise he marked into my neck. The sensation coils deliciously down my spine and I can’t help the way my eyelids flutter or the sigh that escapes out around his fingers that are resting against my tongue. 

Tech rubs a few more circles over my skin before moving his hand to support the back of my neck.

“Sit up.” he orders.

His hand holds my neck and the base of my skull in place as I follow his instruction and bring myself forward. My back protests a little but Tech keeps a firm hand on my neck as I’m moved back into an upright position. Tech crouches in front of me, one of his thighs between mine, his hand wrapped around the back of my neck. His fingers have never left my mouth and I’ve been determinedly keeping it open this entire time. 

I must be a good little oral slut for him. Sir expects nothing less.   

The perceptive gaze of my current dominant is regarding me with gentleness and care.

“Are you alright?” Tech asks.

“Yes Sir” I reply, as contentment flares in my chest.

He was checking in on me. 

I know I’m currently drooling around his fingers as I kneel on the floor, naked and restrained in front of him, but kriff, the care. It means so much to me. It’s part of the reason that I’m able to give myself over to him. To be able to relinquish control. The absolute trust in knowing that I can be completely open and vulnerable with him. That my submission is cradled gently in the safest of hands. That I can submit freely and willingly to his domination, knowing that nothing actually harmful will happen to me. 

The pain might hurt in the moment but it’s never about causing damage, or done with the intent to harm. The tears and sobbing are a welcome release that I finally have the chance to let out in the safe space that they create. They might have different approaches but they’re all like this and it’s only with them that I finally trust to let it all go and be freed of my inhibitions and barriers. 

It’s only with this care and trust that I am able to be drooling around the fingers of my current dominant as I kneel, naked and restrained, in front of him, wearing the collar and cuffs that he made for me. Tech knows exactly what he’s doing and his approach to domination is just as carefully and assiduously researched and planned as everything else he does. 

There’s a gentle squeeze on the back of my neck before Tech withdraws his hand and sits back down on the storage crate that he’s been using as a chair. Brown eyes regard me from behind yellow lenses as I gaze expectantly up at him. 

The drool that was pooling around his fingers on my tongue finally reaches critical mass and spills over my bottom lip and slides down my chin.  

–––

Author’s Note: Please let me know if you enjoyed it! Comments feed my soul etc etc.

Much happier with this chapter! This one, and the next, were written in a burst of inspiration haze of keyboard mashing, similar to how I started writing this fic. This chapter (and the next) is also much longer than I’ve been writing for chapters so far. I did consider trying to split it in half but I just couldn’t find a spot that worked and the entire thing was written in one go so it just worked better as one chapter. So you get a monster chapter for a fic that is turning into a monster as well. 

Next Chapter Teaser: Our first flashback! More reminiscing! Will the plot (what plot) ever progress?! Or am I doomed to describe filth for the rest of my days? Ahem, anyway onto the actual chapter teaser. 

Tech is reassuring in his own way. You reminisce about times with Hunter, Wrecker and Echo, featuring quite possibly the filthiest paragraph I have ever written. You finally get to suck on Tech’s fingers and then Tech gets very, very filthy with his words. 

Taglist: @queenariesofnarnia @skywlker-sluvtt @techs-assistant @dangraccoon @iamburdened @pheesupremacy @blondie-bluue @motte-the-goblin @xxeiraxx @tc-99  

[immajustvibehere]

A lost, cold, robbed, untrusting Y/N stumbles upon Arthur's camp. "you're cold enough with them eyes, come join me by the fire"

A Selfless Act

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

summary: Your former partners abandon you in the mountains. Luckily, you come across a lonely cowboy who saves you from freezing to death.

warnings: mentions of suicide, light fluff

2800 words, 13 minutes reading time

You were a fool. It was pure agony, feeling your holster dangling from your belt. They had left you with one bullet, joked that you'd need it for yourself. Double-crossed, humiliated and left to die one way or another in the freezing mountains. You'd been walking for God knows how long, but you knew it would be your only chance of surviving. Maybe you'd find shelter or be lucky enough to come across someone who would take you back to civilization. There was not much to fear, besides your clothes there was nothing on you that could be taken.

Trudging through the snow was really stupid, you thought. You should just end it right now. You had survived one night; you knew you wouldn't survive another. If the cold won't get you, a pack of wolves will, and frankly, you preferred the bullet to your head. Your hand fumbled for your gun - or it tried to. Your body felt frozen rigid, you hadn't moved anything but your legs for the last couple of hours and despite having lost most of the feeling in your hands, you managed to take your gun out of its holster. You stopped to look at it.

Nope, no way.

The gun was put back and you looked up. You'd do it later. At night. It was only late afternoon; you shouldn't rush things. Maybe...with a bit of luck...

There was a thin but clearly visible column of smoke rising to the sky. It came from behind the hill you were currently climbing. You chuckled at the coincidence of seeing it now. There was your last bit of hope. It had never been harder to climb a snowy hill. The snow seemed deeper than the one before and the wind stung like needles on the small patch of exposed skin in your face. There had been the option of going around the hill, but you wanted the fastest way possible. What if there was someone there and he left while it took you hours to get to him? No, it didn't matter that your pants were soaked or that you stumbled and had to get up again, your appearance resembling the one of a snowman.

When you had reached the top of the hill and looked down, you not only saw a big lake covered with ice and snow in front of you, but also a small campfire. A man, wrapped in a big blue coat sat on a fallen tree. You heard him whistle a tune and leisurely watching a fish that was being grilled above the fire next to two pots. A strong stallion was trotting around in the snow around this little camp. Suddenly, fear and anger started to rise up deep within you. Even though you had nothing to lose, what if this was a bad man? What if he took all you had left? Your gun...your clothes? Or what if he killed you? And yet, what was his right to be so happy when you stood a few feet away, shivering and on the brink of death?

A headshake got rid of those thoughts. You told yourself that you were exhausted and overthinking; this was your chance of survival, and you had to take it. Slowly, you started sliding down the hill. The man looked up when he caught your figure in the corner of his eye. As he stopped whistling, you stopped dead in your track. There were maybe 15 feet between you. You eyed him suspiciously. Maybe this had been a bad idea. You now saw how heavily armed the man was. Two guns were holstered on his hip and a rifle leaned against the trunk he rested on.

"Hello", the man said. It was more like a question. He watched you a bit confusedly as you remained completely still, trying to evaluate your options. You must have looked pathetic; covered in snow, your nose and cheeks redder than a ripe tomato and though you tried to suppress it, you knew your shivered so severely, it had to be perceivable. You made a step back when the man started to smile, just in case it was a sign of him planinng something malicious.

"You're cold enough with them eyes, why don'tcha join me by the fire?", the man proposed. He even brushed some more snow off the trunk, so you'd have a place to sit. You gave in with a deep sigh and closed the distance between you. When you had reached the fire, you ripped off your wet gloves with your teeth, holding your hands as close to the fire as you dared.

"If ya don't mind me asking, what're ya doing out here, Miss?", the man inquired. He added a, "This isn't really a nice place for pleasurable pastime walks."

"I was-", you started before your dry and sore throat let you break out in a cough. The fit shook you to the very bone, now that your hands and face were slowly warming up, the exhaustion in your limbs became perceptible. When you stopped coughing and took such a rattling breath that even you got scared for a second, the man was stirred into action and poured some coffee into a tin cup. "'m afraid I only got one set of dishes, but better than nothing", he held out the cup to you. You took it hungrily, burning your fingers in the process. With the risk of burning your throat too, you took a gulp. It was bitter and hot. The liquid left a scorching sensation in your aching throat. You knew you had made a weird face, because the cowboy was looking at you worriedly; but you didn't care.

A few gulps and a silent moment later you cleared your throat, before you tried again. "My partners - former partners - wanted to get rid of me. We were on our way through the mountains. They suddenly stopped, killed my horse before my damn eyes and left me with nothing but my gun and one bullet." The control over your hands had returned, so you had no trouble taking your revolver out of the holster and dismissively throwing it in front of the man's boots.

"Well, that wasn't very kind of them", the man commented and picked up the revolver, checking if there really was only one bullet inside. The mistrust angered you, despite you being the one who stumbled into his camp unannounced. Still, with some of the warmth returned to your body you took your place on the trunk next to the cowboy. "How long have you been runnin' around?", he asked. "Almost two days." "Jesus,...you could have been done for", he remarked almost in an unbothered manner while he generously filled a plate with beans, some fish meat and the heel of a loaf of bread.

"Here ya go", he shoved the plate onto your lap. "Sir, I can't eat your-" "Sure ya can. Ya need it more than I do. And it's Arthur." You briefly gave him your name before you took the plate into your hands. There was no restraint left. Even if you wanted to be polite, your stomach growled and the sheer thought of consuming something warm filled you with joy. Your eyelids had become heavy and even the act of lifting the spoon was a fight against gravity, you feared sleep taking over any second. Nevertheless, devouring your meal while its provider pulled the remaining flesh off the fishbones felt needlessly shameless of you.

"You a hunter, sir? I mean- Arthur."

"Not really. Occasionally, I s'pose. I shoot more people than animal, to be honest with you."

"Why'd you tell me that?", you asked, completely unconcerned.

"Excuse me, but", he scoffed "yer friends abandoned you with one bullet to shoot yerself. I just assumed you aren't in the honest sort of business."

You were about to confirm that when a thought pierced your mind. You looked up from your meal which you had half-way finished and asked with a tone that would have given you away immediately: "You the law?" The warm laugh from Arthur made you release the breath you were holding. "More like the opposite", he admitted, smiling warmly. "Good", you answered to that and continued to eat. Your fatigue became so overwhelming, you slipped down from the trunk into the snow. It didn't bother you that your coat and pants would be wet and cold, you did care for the opportunity of resting your back against something.

"You brought a storm with you alright", Arthur commented after a while. You looked up from your clean plate to see dark clouds approaching fast over the hill you had walked only the quarter of an hour earlier. "Represents your mood", he added cheekily. You hadn't smiled nor communicated anything not clearly necessary, and he was right: your mood wasn't the best. Though not freezing, you were still cold. And though satisfied as well as rehydrated, you had still been betrayed and had no idea what to do with your life if the stranger you had just met was willing to bring you back to civilization. "Sorry", you looked up to Arthur who was finishing the rest of the beans and with greatest effort managed to crack a tired smile.

There was nothing to be done about the storm. Shall it come and bury you in heaps of snow, for all you cared. You knew your knees wouldn't support you if you stood up. Your eyes were attracted to the spiting fire. Then you blinked once. The short second your eyelids rested shut was like a dream come true, so you closed your eyes again. There was no intention of opening them again, you had no strength to do so. As soon as your brain accepted that you would finally give in, you drifted off to sleep immediately. You still felt how your slumped to the side but were caught by the stranger's legs which prevented you of falling into the snow.

-

You woke up suddenly but remained still. The familiar trot of a horse almost lulled you back to sleep, but you were adamant to assess your new situation - since clearly something had changed. You felt warm, were sat on a horse and heard the trickle of raindrops on leaves and soft soil. When you finally managed to open your eyes, you didn't see much but the part of the woods that was illuminated by the lantern that was held by the man behind you. Your body was resting against his chest, wrapped in, as you only now noticed, the blue coat he had worn before.

"It's okay, I jus' though I'd get us out of the mountains before the snowstorm hit us", a warm voice almost whispered behind you. If you had been awake or energized more, you would have shrugged away from the man who sat behind you. After he had slightly adjusted it, you noticed his other arm was loosely wrapped around your torso, preventing you from slipping off the horse. Everything was fine, you were safe. If he wanted to kill you, he would have done it already. There was no need of forcing yourself the stay awake, so you let yourself be overpowered by sleep once again.

You woke again the support of your back suddenly vanished. Baffled, you looked around and recognized the commotion of a town at night. "We're here", Arthur announced, and your attention was suddenly directed to him. He was standing next to his horse on a porch, the reins still in his hands. His face and hair were glistening with raindrops and you wondered where his hat had gone to. You swore you wore one before. You slid off the horse carefully. The abrupt contact with the ground sent a shiver to your body. It had also shaken some of the slumber out of your bones. Without warning, Arthur grabbed a hat you hadn't noticed you were wearing off your head and put it back on his. "Come one, I'll get this off you", he announced before he pulled you out of his coat which was way too big for you anyway and would have probably tripped you if you had attempted to walk in it.

"Where are we?", you finally asked the man who was stowing his coat on horseback and equipped himself with some other stuff.

"Saints Hotel in Valentine, let's go." Done with his inventory management he urged you inside. Surprisingly, your first reaction to this revelation was the instinct to flee. A hotel? So it all boiled down to this...of course there was no man in this damn country who would just help a desperate woman without expecting anything in turn.

"Back at it again with 'em cold eyes", Arthur chuckled amusedly before he turned his attention to the receptionist "If you could prepare a warm bath for the lady. Have someone assist her, I'm not sure how conscious she is. And then one room, please." Your heart dropped when Arthur grabbed the key. You shuffled awkwardly around on your feet. The man was handsome. You had only seen him with tired and heavy eyes and in a big coat before, but now you had a better look at him. Broad shoulders, a slim hip and a confident stance. Hell, his hair looked softer than anyone's you had seen in a while, but nevertheless...you wouldn't - you couldn't.

"Sir, I-", you started. The immediate circumstances made you retort to a more polite address than his first name. "I understand that I owe you greatly for saving my life, but I'm not sure if I can be of any...satisfaction in that sense." The last words you only mumbled. Maybe that's why Arthur took a solid moment to process your words before you saw his eyes light up and an "Oh" escape his lips.

He shook his head lightly and mockingly announced: "The cold did some serious brain damage it seems." But then he smiled heartily, implying that he meant no serious offense. "I'm just joking", Arthur explained to make sure you understood and put one hand on your shoulder, "Listen, ehrm, y/n was it? Yer really lovely. You got a beautiful face, especially now that some color's returned to it, but you see - it ain't like that." As if he wanted to stress those words, the back of his hand briefly brushed over your cheek. His hands were warm, so you guessed your cheeks must still be pretty cold. And despite your recoil of what you had thought he had wanted of you a moment earlier, you found yourself quite enjoying the gentle touch. "Now getcha self warm", he withdrew his hand and practically sent you off to the bathroom.

It was only in the bathtub that the last bit of weariness was washed off. You were relieved to find that none of your limps or extremities had sustained lasting nerve damage due to the cold. They had all returned to a healthy color in the warm water and you were delighted to be able to move each toe individually. The woman that had been appointed to help you was sent off as soon as you had found your way into the bathtub and had your clear sense back. Regret started to boil up. You had misjudged Arthur's character twice, but he had helped you out more than you'd be ever able to repay. And repay how exactly? Something must be done about this. You'd find some work soon and repay him for the food and the hotel stay. It wasn't really possible to put a price tag on your life that he had saved, but you could try at least. And stop doubting him and his morals, for what it's worth.

However, your plans were crushed when you left the bathroom and found no sign of Arthur. In your room you found your wet jacket, your gun and three small boxes of cartridges, stacked next to a can of assorted biscuits. When you asked the receptionist for the gentleman you arrived with, he said that he had gone away little after you had headed for the bathroom and he had left some stuff in your room. That was it. A look outside showed you that his horse was gone too and not, how you briefly hoped, hitched in front of the saloon.

Even though your encounter had been short, it had been anything but insignificant. Before you headed to bed you made a decision: The first thing you'd do after some rest is finding a job and then you would start looking for Arthur, not stopping before you had properly thanked him for saving your life.

------x

This sat in my drafts for about a month heh.

fighting a bit of a writer's block atm...soo yeaaahhh.

[midnightshard06]

STH Rarepair Week Day 1: First Kiss / First Encounter

You can check it out on ao3 here if you prefer.

Summary: Knuckles finally learns the odd truth behind Sonic's weird behaviors after all these years. He didn't expect it to be a whole other person, and neither of them expected they'd fall for each other. They've made it work though, even if it can be rough sometimes.

Pairing: Knuckles/Fleetway Super Sonic

Warnings: A tiiiiiny smidge of violence in one part? Not really much but warning just in case.

Word Count: ~2800 words

AN: Just so people who are familiar with my stuff are aware, this is unrelated to my Chaos Uncontrolled AU. It's actually related to a fic I never finished, got 8k words deep in it too, but I felt the urge to do something for it.

Knuckles had known Sonic for a long time. He’d been dragged into the hedgehog’s small circle of friends, consisting of just Tails at the time so he thought, pretty much immediately in the wake of everything that happened on Angel Island. Part of him thought that Sonic wouldn’t forgive him for being tricked by Eggman, but that hadn’t been the case. Once the Death Egg had been dealt with Sonic and Tails had come back to make sure he was ok, and also to ask if it would be ok if they visited every once in a while. It didn’t take long for him to say yes, not that he made it look like he was desperate for company or anything. Sonic and Tails were just… decent company is all. Plus he still felt bad for going against them.

As time passed the duo would visit him when they could, even drag him into adventures from time to time. Those adventures got more frequent the longer they knew each other. It was on those adventures that he started to realize there was something Sonic wasn’t telling him about.

It started off easy enough to ignore, especially when he was being distracted by whatever was going on. Though the more time he spent around Sonic the harder it was to ignore. The hedgehog would seemingly… talk to himself sometimes. Even odder was that when he did it with Tails nearby the fox didn’t seem to even care. Knuckles really wanted to ask what that was all about but any time he tried Sonic found some way to change the topic. Frankly it was getting frustrating.

It would be some time, and many failed attempts, before he managed to figure out what was going on. For all his attempted plans though, he would end up finding out completely by accident. Sonic and Tails were on Angel Island for the day, making sure Knuckles wasn't lonely even if he assured them he was fine. Sonic had gone off to run around for a bit and Tails had been tinkering with something nearby as Knuckles watched the Master Emerald. 

"I've been trying to work on some stuff that would help keep the Master Emerald safe while you were away." Tails paused in his work to glance over at Knuckles. "If you'd actually consider using it anyway…" The fox looked slightly nervous.

Knuckles hummed. It would be nice to have some more peace of mind when he couldn't watch it. "Would it be… easy to use?" He asked. Technology for the most part eluded him. Most of the time when Tails tried to explain something he was working on he couldn't keep up at all.

"Yeah!" Tails perked up. "I made it my top priority to make it easy to use. I've even had Sonic and Fleet test it out to make sure."

Knuckles blinked. "Fleet?" His brow furrowed in confusion. That wasn't a name he'd ever heard before.

Instead of possibly just explaining that it was some new friend they'd met, Tails froze. "Oh uh… I must have misspoke. Heh heh." He looked away and rubbed the back of his head.

Now this was odd behavior. Plus Tails was an awful liar. "What did you mean to say then?" Knuckles tilted his head. He'd give the fox the benefit of the doubt for now.

"I… uh…" Tails' eyes darted around. "Froggy..?" He winced.

Knuckles huffed. "Nice try. Wanna give me the truth?" He crossed his arms.

Tails' ears drooped. "I do…"

"But?" Knuckles pressed. This honestly didn't seem like too much of a deal to him. Why was Tails so hesitant to tell him?

"I'm not sure I should…" Tails sighed.

Before Knuckles could say anything else another voice cut it. "Don't worry about it kid. I can explain myself." There was suddenly a golden hedgehog there. One that looked remarkably like Sonic in his super form. As he walked over he ruffled the fur on Tails' head, an action that looked almost automatic. "Good to properly meet you Knux. I was wondering when this was gonna slip." Despite the hedgehog's casual demeanor Knuckles could tell he was nervous.

"... you're Fleet then?" Knuckles cautiously approached. It was hard to ignore the sheer amount of chaos energy he could feel coming off the hedgehog.

"The one and only." Fleet eyed him, shuffling his feet. "I assume you have questions."

"Several." Knuckles nodded. "First, who are you and why have I never seen you before?"

Fleet seemed to hesitate before sighing. "Well… if we're just gonna rip the bandaid off here. I'm a being made up of chaos energy who's been with Sonic his whole life. Like I came into existence when he was born. Something to do with the emeralds taking a shine to him." He waved a hand. "We're not too sure." He crossed his arms. "Reason you've never seen me before is cause typically only Sonic can, but I can 'pilot' for a bit I guess. That let's me interact with the world and be seen." He shrugged.

"So you're just… sentient chaos energy?" Knuckles didn't quite relax at the explanation, but at least Fleet seemed to be telling the truth. It would be a rather unbelievable lie if it was one. Plus it would explain the chaos energy he could feel.

"I guess?" Fleet hummed. "Kinda a simple way to put it though." He mumbled.

This had certainly not been what Knuckles had guessed was going on, but it did put some things into perspective for him. Especially Sonic seemingly talking to himself. He glanced at Tails. "How long have you known about him?" He gestured to Fleet.

Tails looked away. "Uuuuh since before we met you. I accidentally met him at the end of the first adventure me and Sonic had."

"I'd gotten all the emeralds." Fleet hoped in. "Turns out if I'm not careful that much chaos energy can cause me to go a bit… wild." He looked at the floor. "Didn't know that at the time though. Tails ended up seeing me before me and Sonic could figure it out." He cracked a small smile and looked over at Tails. "It worked out though." The fox smiled back. Knuckles opened his mouth to ask something else but Fleet rose a hand. "Sonic didn't want to say anything because people haven't exactly taken kindly to my existence in the past." He frowned deeply.

"If it makes you feel better." Tails jumped in. "Only me and Shadow know, and Shadow only knows because he could tell that Fleet was there. Sort of."

Knuckles hummed as he watched Fleet. It was clear the hedgehog was still nervous. “Alright. Fine.” He sighed and held out his hands. “At least I know now.”

Fleet blinked. Knuckles crossed his arms. “That’s it?” Fleet looked dumbfounded.

“Were you expecting something else?” Knuckles tilted his head.

“Well… I mean…” Fleet seemed to be struggling to get his words straight. “It was just a whole thing with Shadow and… I don’t know, it's almost always been a big deal…” Suddenly his head whipped to the right to glare at empty space. “Stop laughing! You’d be acting the same way in my position!” Based on his eyes narrowing further Knuckles was willing to bet the laughing had only gotten harder. Fleet turned back to Knuckles, his arms now crossed and ears flat against his head.

“Well so long as you don’t pose a threat to the Master Emerald I’m fine to trust you for now.” Knuckles nodded, and Fleet perked up a little bit.

“I see.” Fleet cleared his throat. “Well uh. Good I guess. Yeah…” He tapped his claws together nervously. “Good… talk.” With that he was gone and Sonic was there on the ground, still laughing.

Fleet collapsed wordlessly against Knuckles. The echidna didn’t even flinch. “What happened?” Knuckles eventually asked once Fleet had settled himself. Fleet didn’t really have the emotional energy to even try and describe the day he’d just had. All he knew is he wanted to calm down and hang out with his partner. Not that he even knew how he’d managed that. Ever since he’d revealed himself to Knuckles the two had gotten closer, and things had just… evolved from there. It helped that him and Sonic were able to be separate finally. That had been a pain while they’d tested different things. He’d had far too many close calls than he was comfortable with… both for himself and others.

Knuckles hummed and put an arm around Fleet. It was nice, not needing to articulate his feelings just yet, but still getting the comfort he’d been seeking out. The two stayed there for a while, Fleet wasn’t really trying to keep track of the time. Which was still odd to him. Before sitting still this long would have been torture, but now he was content to just stay at Knuckles’ side.

“Something with the emeralds?” Knuckles spoke up again, keeping his gaze aimed forward. 

With a sigh Fleet extracted himself from the comfortable position and balanced his head on his hands. “Yeah.” He pinned his ears down. It was still fresh and he didn’t really want to talk about it, but keeping it to himself might only make things worse. “Tails was messing with one, I wasn’t really paying attention to what he was doing. Then out of nowhere… boom!” He waved a hand aggressively. “I couldn’t think straight. Made a mess of Tails’ lab and… and…” He sucked in a sharp breath. “And hurt people.”

There was a moment of silence and then a hand on his shoulder, he tried to shy away from the touch but it was firm. “I get why you came here then.” Knuckles didn’t look sympathetic, but Fleet much preferred that. He didn’t want to be pitied. “You know that if something goes wrong here, I could probably use the Master Emerald to help.”

“S’part of it I guess.” Fleet admitted. Of course that was a pretty natural conclusion to make. “I think just being around you helps too.” He added, much quieter. Knuckles just slowly pulled him closer, giving him plenty of time to pull away if he wanted. Fleet didn’t fight him. Hopefully some quiet time spent here would help clear his mind.

“Where is he!?” Knuckles shouted as he approached an injured looking Sonic.

The blue hedgehog grimaced as he pushed himself to his feet. “He’s up ahead. Shadow is keeping him busy for now.” He went to rub the back of his head but winced. “Not sure how long he’ll last though… Fleet was exposed to a lot of chaos energy…”

Knuckles grit his teeth. As much as he wanted to rush in there right now and help Fleet he needed more information. “What happened?”

“Was fighting Eggman, I used the emeralds. Fleet was there too but I thought it would be fine. He was trying to stay out of the fight.” There was clear regret on Sonic’s face. “Somehow he managed to pick up on it. He’s been extra sensitive to it lately.” He shook his head. “We have no idea why.”

Well that wasn’t a lot to work with, but Knuckles would have to make due. “I’ll see what I can do.” He grunted, just seeing the grateful look that Sonic gave him as he ran off. True to Sonic’s word Fleet was just ahead. The golden hedgehog had a hand gripped around Shadow’s throat and a crazed look in his eyes. Around them were the ruins of what must have been one of Eggman’s bases. Knuckles would be willing to bet destroying the structure had at least distracted Fleet long enough for him to get here. Thankfully he'd already been off of Angel Island when he’d been contacted. “Hey!” He shouted and one of Fleet’s ears swung towards him. “Put him down.” Knuckles growled.

Fleet turned to look at him. An excited smile crept across his face, one that was still disturbing. “Knuckles.” He sounded genuinely happy to see him, but yet he still held Shadow aloft. “So nice to see you here.” He closed his eyes briefly as he exposed his teeth with his smile.

It was definitely disturbing to see such pleasant expressions aimed at him while Fleet still gripped tightly at Shadow’s throat. Said black hedgehog was still struggling. “Put. Him. Down.” Knuckles narrowed his eyes, keeping his tone firm.

Fleet’s pleasant expression faded as he frowned, ears drooping. “Awe, but I was having fun. A few more minutes can’t hurt right?”

“Now, Fleet.” Knuckles took a step forward. He knew he didn’t stand much of a chance in a fight, but he also knew he was one of the people least likely to be attacked. Of course that list consisted of Sonic and Tails too, but he tried to ignore how injured Sonic had looked when he saw him.

The golden hedgehog pouted but did drop Shadow. The other hedgehog fell to the ground gasping for air. Knuckles cautiously approached as Fleet floated down to the ground. Fleet’s grin still looked feral, but at least he didn’t seem inclined to attack Knuckles. For now. Though of course Knuckles didn’t come unprepared. As much as it would be nice if his presence alone could calm Fleet down he knew that wouldn’t work. Tails had sounded rather frantic in his distress call after all.

Before Fleet could move away Knuckles threw his arms around him. Something in between a hug and a grapple. Thankfully Fleet went rigid as he no doubt tried to figure out what was going on. In those precious few moments Knuckles called upon the power of the Master Emerald to neutralize the excess chaos energy in Fleet’s body. He could feel when it started to work as the golden hedgehog collapsed more and more heavily against him. If there was another way Knuckles would much prefer to use it, Fleet always looked so tired and out of it after. Though he also knew that Fleet would much prefer that to hurting anyone else.

Finally Fleet slumped against Knuckles completely, his breathing evening out as he fell asleep. Knuckles mentally sighed in relief, though he did wish he was able to get here sooner. A glance over at where Shadow had been revealed the hedgehog had left at some point, probably to tend to whatever injuries he had. No doubt Sonic would check up on his rival later. Speaking of the blue hedgehog, Knuckles watched him carefully approach. He was limping slightly, but was doing his best to hide it. What he didn’t hide was the relief on his face when he spotted Fleet in Knuckles’ arms.

“I assume everything’s good now?” Sonic was still looking at Fleet, some sort of expression Knuckles couldn’t place on his face now.

“For now. You should go rest. I’ll take care of him.” Knuckles adjusted Fleet so he was holding him more comfortably.

Sonic opened his mouth to say something but closed it. Perhaps thinking better of whatever he was about to say. "I'll leave him to you." He shuffled his feet and winced. "Just let me know how he's doing once he wakes up ok?" Knuckles simply nodded before going off to collect the Master Emerald from where he'd left it.

Fleet woke with a start, but didn’t try to move. He was utterly exhausted, a feeling he knew well. Though he wished it wasn’t so familiar. Just as he suspected he spotted the Master Emerald after a moment of visually searching for it, so that also meant…”Good to see you up.” Knuckles was sitting down next to him, close but not touching. “How are you feeling?”

“About how you’d expect…” Fleet curled in on himself, not quite making a proper ball. “I feel like I could sleep for a whole year…”

“I’m sorry.” Knuckles, as he always did after something like this happened, sounded genuinely apologetic.

“I know.” Fleet reached his hand out blindly, Knuckles thankfully took it. “And I keep telling you it’s ok.”

“Doesn’t mean I won’t feel bad about it.” Knuckles huffed. “Even with your permission.”

Fleet felt like he could continue this conversation, but nothing new would be said. They’d had this same back and forth so many times. Honestly Fleet hated to think about how common of a conversation this was becoming. He hated that it was brought on because of his inability to control himself around chaos energy. "Fine." Was all Fleet could manage. He was tired anyway. The two stayed in silence for a while. It was comfortable, like it usually was between them. "Thank you." Fleet's voice was soft even to his own ears.

Knuckles pulled Fleet closer. "I just wish I could stop it from happening."

"You do your best." Fleet squeezed his hand.

There was more silence and Fleet figured it would be safe to slip back into sleep now. What he wasn't expecting though was for Knuckles to press his muzzle to Fleet's head, careful to avoid pricking himself. Fleet's exhaustion riddled mind barely registered it as a kiss. A sort of tentative one, but one all the same. As he drifted off the sleep he couldn't help but realize that was the first time that had ever happened.

[sotwk]

About Gelir, what happened to him after he was banished? Did he survive it? Did he move in with Elrond and the other elves?

For those new to this father-son drama, here is the post I wrote that includes details Prince Gelir's banishment from Mirkwood, called "The Aftermath of the Elvenqueen's Death". Here are the key points about that banishment:

About three years after the Elvenqueen died in Gundabad during the War of the Dwarves and Orcs, Gelir once again tried to convince his father to allow him and Legolas to lead their armies to help the Dwarves (Thrain's people). Thranduil refused, and instead decreed that all travel to other realms was forbidden while the Dwarves fought their war.

Frustrated by this (and still grieving his mother), Gelir finally broke down and rebelled openly against the Elvenking. He attempted to leave Mirkwood on his own, only to be chased down by his father and dragged back to the Halls in chains, where he was thrown in prison. (Yes, this was very much the lowest of the low points for Thranduil, where even his most loyal followers feared he had lost his mind in his grief.)

After the war ended in TA 2799, Gelir was finally released from prison, after being held there for 3 years. But instead of making peace with his father and submitting to the King's decrees, he openly criticized Mirkwood's isolationist policies, which had become even stricter after the Elvenqueen's death.

After another year of strife between father and son, Thranduil gave Gelir an ultimatum: reaffirm his fealty to the Elvenking and his laws, or be banished from the kingdom. Gelir, believing his home had become a "cage" that he refused to be locked in, chose banishment.

Thank you for asking this question! <3 I feel like I've failed to properly organize all the SotWK AU headcanons I've put out, and it's become impossible for interested readers such as yourself to follow all my drivel! So thank you for your patience! XD

Now to address your question:

What did Gelir do after his banishment?

For starters, Gelir severed his mental link (ósanwë) with both Thranduil and Legolas. He did this in the heat of his pain and anger, and came to regret it some years later, but their estrangement and the physical distance between them made it too difficult to reestablish.

For two centuries, from TA 2800 to TA 3019, Gelir wandered Middle-earth as a vigilante. Frustration over his father's inaction had boiled over, and he became fueled by his desire to hurt the Enemy and take a stand against the rising Darkness.

He occasionally joined Elladan and Elrohir on their orc-hunting quests. The Thranduilions had been friends with Elrond's children since they were literally babies, and their mothers were dearest of friends, so teaming up and sharing in each others' rage and grief was just natural.

SotWK Fancast: Sam Claflin as Gelir Thranduilion

Thranduil relied on the few allies he had left in various realms to receive word about Gelir; every few years he was able to learn that the prince had been spotted in some distant land. Thus he and Legolas were able to take comfort in at least knowing Gelir was still alive.

Upon learning from Elrond's sons that his little brother had gone on the Quest of the Ring, and realizing that sacrifice Thranduil had made, Gelir finally returned to Mirkwood to reconcile with his father. He helped lead the kingdom's forces in defending Mirkwood against Sauron's attacks during the War.

Does he survive? Not only does Gelir survive the War of the Ring, but he becomes the last Thranduilion to leave Middle-earth. In the end, he sails on the Last Ship with his father to reunite with the rest of their family in Valinor.

Other useful links:

Introduction to SotWK

Fanfiction Masterlist

Fanfiction Request Guidelines

[linksthoughtbrambles]

Oopsy

A TotK/Star Trek: Lower Decks crossover fic for Linktober 2023 Day 11: Monsters/Beasts. (No TotK spoilers). (If you know, you know). 2800 words.

“Narj loves all the creatures in his menage!” Narj said, his thick spectacles magnifying eyes squeezed happily shut.

“If you love us, sir, truly, set us free,” Zelda replied.

“Have no fear, humans.  Starfleet is already on its way,” Narj said, walking off as if that was clearly that.

Zelda spun on Link, her hands on her inexplicably-jumpsuited hips, her big green eyes even bigger than usual.

It wasn’t every day Link got to see her ‘I’m being ignored?!’ face.

“Humans?” she asked.  “What does he think we are?”

Link shrugged.  “Dunno, but I think he’s corn.”

---

Link preferred when Zelda slept in the hammock with him.

Unfortunately, that’s what everyone else preferred, too.

‘Ooooh, mama, look what those Vulcans are doing!’ exclaimed what appeared to be a small boulder covered in oven-baked mozzarella.  It leaned up against their cage’s window, somehow reminding Link of a puppy despite having no facial features, legs, or a tail.

‘Those aren’t Vulcans, daughter three thousand and fifty-eight.  They must be Romulans,’ answered a much larger cheese-draped boulder with two distinct throbbing noises.

‘Romulans?  For real?  How can you tell?’

‘They don’t look like anyone in Vulcan Love-Slave.’

Narj had called them ‘Vulcans’ at first, too (once he realized they could talk).

Unfortunately, their language skills hadn’t stopped him from keeping them locked up and on display.

“We’re in a zoo, Zel,” Link said.

“Not for long,” she said, eyeing a panel on the wall.

---

“OH FUCK! THE MOOPSY IS FREE!” screamed Narj, clawing in terror at the wall behind him as a newcomer named Mariner scoffed.

“Oh nooo, your cuddliest prisoner is loose, whatever shall we do?” she said with a smirk, but Narj’s utter freak-out had already sent Link shoving Zelda back in their now-open cage as he dove for a vaguely shield-like wall-panel thick with beach-palette paint.

The panel was no longer seated properly (thanks to Zelda).  One corner swiveled directly into the wall’s circuitry with all the considerable momentum Link had in his short-but-dense body.

“Moopsy!” said Moopsy in its sweet, cuddly voice.

A loud hum deep in the walls prefaced a brief blackness giving way to emergency lighting and a flutter of activity behind Link: squawks, screeches, roars, buzzes, pitter-patters, plop-plop-plops, splashes and scrabbling, and way more he couldn’t make out except “FUCK ME, THEY’RE ALL FREE!!!”

Link hadn’t thought corn could scream like that.  He spun to see Moopsy’s little white pudge-fluff body on a winged goat’s back.

“Moopsy!” Moopsy said.

And Moopsy’s mouth become FAR FAR FAR TOO WIDE to make sense, two tiny fangs glinting as the massive face-hole closed on the goat’s skull and sucked its skeleton up like steaming-hot gelatin.

“HOLY FUUUUUUCK!” Mariner yelled at the exact moment Link’s bowels chilled about fifty degrees.

Celsius.

Moopsy snapped its head to the side, flopping the goat’s skin and soft tissue like a beloved chew-toy.

Zelda made a strangled sound of rising disgust and Link raised the wall panel as an awkward, two-handed shield with no strap.  He’d be better off using it as a claymore.

Huh.

That could work.

Link flip-gripped it at one end and swung it broad-faced into the Moopsy as hard as he could on such short notice.

“Moopsy!” Moopsy cried in distress as it spun through the air and disappeared into an arboreal habitat on the 2nd floor.

Link could’ve sworn he heard a little squeak when it landed.

He definitely heard all the gasps.

Why were they all looking at him?  Weren’t swamp-gobblers snarling right on the other side of the sky snake’s habitat?

“Link!” Zelda said, brows knit and mouth gawking at him.

“What?!”

“The Moopsy is Narj’s favorite!” Narj said, his head in his hands.

“I am- so sorry, Mr. Narj,” said the big blond man whose name Link hadn’t caught.  “Starfleet will take full responsibility for any losses incurred as a result of our people’s actions-“

“I’m not your people,” Link said, but he got talked over.

“Oh- this is- bullshit,” said Mariner.  “’Ooooh, fuck, fuck, the Moopsy is free’ and ‘oh shit not the fucked up goat!’ and then you go all gooey and teary when this guy smacks its ass away from us, which, THANK YOU, by the way, strange dude with super-WEIRD- VERY pointy ears, you’re not human at all, are you?”

Link shook his head, but she hadn’t stopped despite the building volume of the animal brawl behind and to the right of the central exhibit (the short guy in the red shirt cringed, his back to its low, round wall).

“If it’s your weird-ass monster creatures’ lives or ours, ours win, no matter how adorable their eyes or tiny, nubby tails or innocent voices may be.”

“I gave these creatures a safe home!” Narj protested.  “I don’t want to see them harmed!”

“It seems you have little choice,” said Zelda with a gesture toward the chaos.

A pack of dog-like animals with horns had wandered between the two scythe-handed swamp-gobblers, who had then attempted a pincer-strike on one of the smaller horn-dogs.  Two horn-dogs seemed content to simply flop to the floor and wait this out, while the other two leapt to defend their packmate with startling aggression.  A horn-dog’s horn was currently embedded in a swamp-gobbler’s nostril, and a strange, floating ball of light with three cobra heads appeared to be getting throttled in the squeeze of the much thicker and lengthier sky snake’s body (also floating) while reptile-birds, hammer-head-birds, colorful head-plumage birds and a kalaidescope of butterflies fluttered and swopped around them.  One cobra-head snapped a butterfly right out of the air and hissed purple light.

This was to say nothing of the myriad of small creatures pattering and oozing their way along the floor or the frenetic mixture of cooing, screeching, and slurping sounds issuing from the balcony running the circumference of the room above them.

“Oh- OH!  NOT MY TRIBBLES!”  Narj ran a single, abortive stride toward the stairway.

“Moopsy!”

The adorable sound stopped him dead, his face struck with horror.

“Tribbles?!” the big blond said.  He’d raised spread hands, ready to grapple, sharp eyes flicking from creature to creature.  “I thought you were operating within federation law!”

“Narj does operate lawfully!  I do not trade or transport my tribbles!  I simply maintain my stock!”

“That’s what they all say,” Mariner said, her stance mimicking her colleague’s.

(The short guy in the red shirt hadn’t moved.  He muttered something about his pants).

A tribble rolled from the balcony and hit Link square on the head before it bounced to the ground.

He blinked at the completely innocuous, tawny-furred ovoid.  “Is this like the Moopsy?” he asked.

“No no no no no!” Narj said inserting himself between Link and the puffball, his shaking hands very nearly touching Link’s chest.

It was weird.

“Tribbles merely breed quickly-“

“TOO quickly,” blond said.

“WAAAAY too fast,” agreed Mariner.

“Do they have bones?” Zelda asked.

“C-cartilage,” Narj squeezed out.  “What if it can drink them?”  More shrieking and slurping cut through the grunts, growls, squawks and slams.  “WHAT IF IT ALREADY IS?!  AH AAAH!”

He really seemed close to popping some kind of sap vessel.

“Better them than us!” Mariner said.  “Lemme just-“

“I’ll just-“

Link and Mariner stopped talking simultaneously, eyeing each other.

“So, I’ll scope it-“

“I’ll peek up-“

They did it again.

Mariner narrowed her eyes at Link.

He widened his with a nearly unnoticeable shrug.

They shot up an instant later, Mariner with a quick run to the stairwell, a jump and a kick off the banister to grab the safety railing, and Link with a leap up to finger-grip the lower lip of the balcony and pull himself up.

Both peeked left along the 2nd level’s metal floor.

There it was.

Moopsy.

Having the time of its life.

It had a whole tribble in its mouth, sucking on it like hard candy with pleasure-riddled squeaks and big, round eyes glistening with the simple joy of delicious food.

Link totally got it.

There were at least six more tribbles in its path.

He dropped back to the floor with a practiced landing.  “Yeah, it likes those tribbles, we’ve got a minute.”  Link shrugged, picked up the one near his feet, and got halfway through a tossing motion.

“OoohOOoooh!” Narj moaned.

“LINK!” Zelda scolded.

He froze.  “What?!”

“You would do NO SUCH THING were it a cat.”

“Yeah I would.”

“Lies.”

“No, if it’s you or a cat, I choose you.”

“That is not the choice!”

“It might be.”

“We’ve time to think!” she said.

“Not really, we gotta get all these thingamanimals back in their cages,” said Mariner, dropping back in with a bounce of her very bouncy black curls, and a tiny glare at Link.

“I’m not going back in mine,” he warned.

A squelching sound preceded a whimpering cry in the voice of a swamp-gobbler.

“Didn’t say you had to,” Mariner said.

A golden light emanated from Zelda, expanding past the animals, through their cages, and out beyond their ability to see it through the walls.

“What was that?!” blond guy yelled.

“An attempt to re-cage your animals,” Zelda said.  “It was worth attempting, though I’m not surprised it had no effect.”

“Oh!  Oh human, you got the Aldeberan serpent!”  Narj pointed to the triple-cobra-headed light-ball currently pressed to a rocky habitat’s back wall by a blanket of sunlight.

“Is it an evil creature?” Zelda asked.

“Terribly wicked!”

That explained that.

The sky snake, having nothing to strangle, began to fly laps around the room, snapping its jaws and loosing calls like a long-throated crow’s caw.

Zelda’d already stuck her hands into the wall in attempt to re-connect some cabling.

“Hey!  Let me- I’m a professional,” said big blond guy.  He jogged over and nudged Zelda sideways.

This pissed Link off.  “Don’t push her.”

Apparently it also pissed Mariner off.  “You’re not an engineer, Jack.”

Jack cringed.  “Neither are you, Mariner.”

Something soft hit the floor above them.  “Moopsy!”  A sucking sound followed.

Link stalked over to Jack’s right shoulder, between him and Zelda, and looked over it to see him fumbling.  An arc of electricity zapped him and he jumped, nursing a small burn on his wrist.

“Yeah, you should let her do that,” Link said.

“Indeed,” Zelda said, nudging Jack herself.

“Hey!”

Zelda began putting things together and taking them apart with her head cocked and quick glances into the atrium.  “Please tell me if a cage closes!”

“Got it!” said Mariner.

Link kept his eyes peeled.  Some thick-carapaced creature even smaller than the tribbles was oozing its way along the edge of the room toward Jack.  “What’s that thing?”

“What- AGH!” Jack yelled, jumping back into Link.

This was enough impetus for Link to snatch the wall panel back up and flick the critter away with it.  It landed lodged between red-shirt-guy’s shoulder and the low wall he’d pressed his back against.

“AHHHHH!” screamed red-shirt as the critter wiggled to right itself.

“GET UUUUUP,” yelled Mariner.  She sprung toward him.

He didn’t listen.  He did scream incessantly as something small and glistening began to leave a slime-trail on his neck.

“NO NO NO EEL BABIES!” Mariner slapped the tiny animal off him.  It landed somewhere in the ground of the verdant sky snake habitat.

“NO!  CETI EELS ARE A CRITICALLY ENDANGERED SPECIES!” Narj cried.

“IT’LL BE FINE!” Mariner yelled as she held mama-eel’s left antenna between two pincered fingers and dumped her into the habitat, too.

“Moopsy!” said Moopsy.

Link ignored it for a moment, then broke into a sweat.

No more slurping noises.

“Moopsy!”

Link swore under his breath, Jack said “SHIT!”, Mariner growled and spun with eyes on the 2nd floor, and Narj said “FUH HUH HUH HUUUCK!”

Zelda worked quick—and with a sudden zzzzip, the wrong cage closed across the way out of the corner of Link’s eye.

“Look!” Link hissed, wondering if sound lured Moopsies.

“I have it, I have it!” Zelda undid that one but counted quickly, finding a connection and instantly shutting the Aldeberan serpant’s cage with a sigh of relief.  The golden light flickered and faded.  As it did, the serpent hissed its frustration and a previously unnoticed tribble fell from the wall near Narj’s head.

“AH- u- oh?” Narj peered at it, adjusting his glasses.

“Evil tribble,” Link said under his breath.

Above them, the sky snake gave a sudden hiss and a bellow, a sound like sausage grinding moving from directly above their cage toward center-right of the room.  The remains of the sky snake’s body struck the floor with a monumental metallic slap.

The Moopsy raised its cheerful head from the hole in the snake’s skin.  “Moopsy!”

Everything ran.

The gobblers, the reptilian and plumed and hammer-headed birds, the horn-dogs, the remaining winged goat, the starfishy critters that had been skulking along the walls, and even the evil tribble, though it couldn’t move quickly.  Link hadn’t made out all of the small creatures, but they began to clear a wide circle around Moopsy, the floor less littered with tiny, wiggling bodies.

This left the Moopsy.

And them.

Moopsy waddled toward red-shirt guy, who began a rapid, stuttering crawl in the opposite direction.  Moopsy sped up with a bum-wiggle and leapt toward its next meal.

“No you don’t!” Mariner yelled, quick-dragging her sneaker back on the floor, then kicking her leg out straight.  Her shoe flew off at the perfect angle—its sole covered most of Moopsy’s squishy belly as it flew backward into a marshy habitat behind it.

“CLOSE IT! CLOSE IT CLOSE IT!” they all yelled at slighty different times in slightly different ways as Zelda feverishly connected everything.

“I need an insulative sealant!” she cried.

Link eyed the palm fronds, but Jack blew by him, yanked the cloth hammock from its hooks, and began tearing strips off it with his teeth.

Link quietly approved.  He caught the first strips tossed his way and helped Zelda cross-thread them through her many connecitons.

Their own cage shut.

Zelda grunted in frustration.

When they’d finished, the lights had fully returned in the atrium, though they tended to flicker.  So did the force field around the sky snake’s central habitat, but no one seemed to care.

Some creatures were still audibly struggling with each other, stuck mingling in habitats not their own.

That was fine for now.

Red-shirt guy finally stood, his back bent and face pale as he shook off his prey chemicals.

Narj thanked Zelda and Mariner profusely as he fiddled with his ring of keys.  “Narj is so grateful.  Narj may lose more of his creatures but will recover.  I will recover.  And I will free you the normal way, this time!”

Mariner gave Zelda a suspicious look that had Link inching protectively toward her.

“Hang on,” Mariner said.

Narj’s shaky smile drooped.

“You,” Mariner said.

“Us?” Link asked.

“Your force field just happens to go down right before the Moopsy’s free?”

Link side-eyed Zelda.

“You let it out!” said Mariner.

Zelda fidgeted her fingertips.  “Not intentionally.”

Everyone gasped but Link.

“I’m extremely glad no one was hurt,” she said, now wringing her hands.

Link put an arm around her shoulders and glared at the others.  He especially glared at Jack since he was in there with them, and Link didn’t want him to try anything.

Jack crossed his arms, a stern look on.  “We were coming to get you.  You didn’t have to break out.”

“How were we to know?”  Zelda asked.

“Narj told you!” Narj said.

“You said Starfleet was coming,” Link said in his soft voice.  “That could’ve meant anything.”

Mariner’s face screwed up.  “Any-?!  We’re STARFLEET, what did you think it would mean?”

Link shrugged.  “A bunch of stars sailing the high seas together?  Maybe some great navigators banding together to keep their ships safe?  Maybe an army?”

Everyone stared.

“How could you not know what Starfleet i-“ Mariner shook her head.  “Wait a minute.  You’re NOT human.  You’re not Vulcan, Romulan, Reman, Ramuran, Halanan, Ocampan, or Arkenites, so what the hell are you guys?”

“We are Hylian,” Zelda said in a small voice.

“Never heard of you,” said Jack.  “What planet are you from?”

Link and Zelda looked at each other.

“Moopsy!” Moopsy said from its new habitat.

Jack, Mariner, and red-shirt’s eyes made a slow journey toward Narj, who tittered.

“I- I don’t always know where they come from.”

“Come on, man, PRIME DIRECTIVE!”  (Jack).

“WITHIN FEDERATION LAW, MY ASS!”  (Mariner).

“SIRS, I WANT A DESK JOB!” (That poor red-shirted bastard).

That conversation devolved into a heated argument.

Link grimaced.  “They think we’re from a planet?  The things in the sky?  Maybe that’s what they call sky islands or something.”

Zelda, for once, appeared lost.

At first.

Her eyes grew wide.

Then wider.

Then wider.

“LINK!”

“What?!”

“People live on planets!!!” she cried.

The others went quiet.

“Awwww,” Jack said, palming his face.  “Time for another memory wipe.”

Link blanched.  “Not again!”

-------

[For visual reference, this post has Moopsy and Narj. The 3 starfleet characters were Beckett Mariner, Jack Ransom, and Gary (on left in pic). Lower Decks is awesome.]

Gary (red-shirt guy) and Mariner. She's dressed down today.

Below: Jack Ransom (with Mariner far off in background).