#my ship is finally getting along and the show is ending???

[shhhsoftnwet]

Who are you harassing this time, team leader Shin?

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

the problem of coming from the high octane shipwar hell of ff7twt to being a ride or die for two white, straight people that i insist are in a metaphorically gayer relationship than a mixed-race married straight couple is that i'm so shipwarbrained that the only basis i consume media through is how much emotional torment can i go through by choosing the less-liked romantic pairing and talking about how stupid it is that they're less liked because the story clearly likes them more and it's just the dipshit fans who have a problem with it. also no one cares about what i'm saying so it makes me feel very stupid for saying it but i can't help that the only media i like is either about people whose lives suck so much they end up killing themselves or about two people loving each other through the worst experiences of their lives collectively. like what's even the point of life if i can't romanticize it.

[niuxita21]

No offense at all but doing a Big Shocking Reveal that only leaves the viewer confused because its "shockingness" hinges on the presupposition that a character knows something the show has given no indication as to whether they know it or how and then only explaining how the character knows that via flashbacks in subsequent episodes AFTER the Big Reveal is... not the best storytelling device

[disneyvillainsdaily]

Creatives have always fought to have representation in their projects. Even under a company like Disney, if the team has something they want to show, they'll find their way around whatever the suits and sales execs forbid (especially for non-theatrical releases/media, where they might be able to get away with a bit more).

It got me thinking about an episode of Lilo & Stitch: The Series! that I've mentioned before, the one about Pleakley's family wanting him to settle down with a wife. I thought about this episode specifically because Jumba and Pleakley may have been shipped by the writers through bits and jokes and one-offs throughout the show, but in this episode they really tried to do the most official, "We ship these characters," as they possibly could without actually getting in trouble with the higher-ups.

Here's the setup for the episode if you're unfamiliar:

Pleakley's mother wanted him to finally marry a girl, or else she would find a girl for him back on his home planet. Pleakley ends up lying to get out of the arrangement, saying that he already has a woman he's engaged to on Earth. Just a minute later, when he answers the door, he realizes he's only made the situation worse: his family's there on the doorstep, saying they immediately "hopped a wormhole" to be there before his supposed wedding day.

He begins to stack lies on top of lies and claims that Nani is his bride-to-be. Nani is only convinced to go along with it after being reminded that, if Pleakley left, the only remaining adult to supervise Lilo would be Jumba.

Both Pleakley and Nani don't enjoy the charade they have to put up with for the next few days. Nani begrudgingly plays her part up until the actual wedding day, where she finds out that a real ordained minister was hired, meaning she would be legally married to Pleakley, which is where she draws the line. Nani refuses to be a part of the lie any longer and leaves just before the ceremony begins.

Here's where the Pleakley/Jumba stuff begins (and where the creative team had to start tiptoeing around what would force a rewrite from the execs):

Lilo convinces Jumba off-screen to take Nani's place. This way there's no need to write any kind of "ew no I don't want to" joke or have Lilo bribe him or something of the sort to get Jumba to do it. We don't see or hear Jumba's thoughts when he would supposedly be told that he is legally marrying Pleakley. This way the writers are neither confirming nor denying anything about Jumba being interested in Pleakley or not.

During the ceremony, Jumba doesn't seem put off by it all. There's no gag that he thinks it's gross to be married to Pleakley, or is "only doing it" because Lilo said he has to, or that he wants to be the groom instead of the bride, or anything like that. When asked for his name, he does claim to be "Jumbina," but that's most likely because Pleakley's family specifically wanted him to marry a girl (and are a very heteronormative bunch; if Jumba walked down the isle as a second groom, they would've been just as upset as if they found out Pleakley wasn't actually engaged). Regardless, I'd say Pleakley looks content-enough that Jumba's the one walking down the isle instead of Nani.

When the minister then asks for the vows, the audience is only given a single line from Pleakley: "Dearest, the day we met, I couldn't take my eye off you." As he says this, the genetic experiment of the episode -who happens to be a lie detector experiment- starts beeping loudly, meaning that was a lie. Which actually makes total sense. That was a lie. If you go back to the day they met, Pleakley was being brought to Jumba's prison cell, where Pleakley was told he'd be shipped off to catch a deadly experiment with this criminally-convicted mad-scientist he just met. These two were absolutely not a case of "love at first sight." I mean, when Pleakley first saw him, Jumba was crazily ripping up and stuffing newspaper into his mouth.

And that's the ONLY vow that we get to hear either of them say at the wedding. The writers explicitly made the ONLY vow a false one so the lie detector could buzz at it. Jumba and Pleakley don't say anything about how much they might actually love each other, because then the writers would be forced to make it a lie so they wouldn't get in trouble for suggesting that the two male characters have feelings for each other. If it was all just part of the joke, it would be super easy for the characters to say how much they "really love one another" and then have the lie detector go off in the background. The writers can't have vows that would imply that these characters are gay, so they instead made the characters not say vows that would imply that they aren't gay.

Now, if you know anything about how the legality of marriage actually works, you know that most fiction gets it wrong: you don't stop someone from being married by interrupting their "I do"s, cutting the minister off before they say "I now pronounce you," stopping the kiss, taking the rings, or anything like that. You are finally "legally married" when you sign the marriage certificate and legal paperwork, which can be during, after, or even before the actual wedding.

So, while the ceremony gets crashed just before the end of it by Gantu trying to grab the genetic experiment, that doesn't actually stop the marriage proceedings unless the signings are postponed. Also, let's appreciate how Pleakley immediately hops into Jumba's arms at the sight of danger, and how Jumba accepts it.

After the ceremony is wrecked and Pleakley explains all of his lies to his family -and they apologize for being hard on him and not understanding- the minister stands up from under the rubble to ask who's paying for the officiation as he holds up some papers, supposedly the legal documents for the marriage. But no one actually responds. The scene ends with a look of newfound-understanding between Pleakley and his mother about their conversation from just a moment ago.

There's no further comment towards the minister about how they don't actually need marriage papers or that the marriage itself is being called off. No one says anything about it in the wrap-up scene just afterwards where Pleakley's family leaves. There's no, "Man, I'm glad I didn't actually have to marry Pleakley," from Jumba or some kind of, "I'm glad that's over," from Pleakley.

From all we know, Pleakley and Jumba did sign those papers for the minister to file with the state of Hawaii.

And this is the best the writers could do. They weren't allowed to canonize/confirm anything, even if they wanted to. They have to try making it as canon as possible by explicitly not stating certain things that would delegitimize it. It becomes a whole assignment to carefully slip past the people holding their paychecks.

As the industry and world have shifted a bit, different kinds of representation have become at least somewhat easier to include than these ever-so-meticulously-crafted inclusions from the past. But, when the people in power have doubts on what might make/lose money, they immediately look to topics like these that polarize extremist audiences. Taking any kind of positive/accepting stance on representation is the first thing they neutralize. So, even when the inclusion has to be as convoluted as this, I still personally see and appreciate everything that the creative teams do.

[sebmindbreak]

GASHARPOON! john doe x siren! you

HEADCANONS TIME!

i worked on those early and now i can publish them >:D

(i had to reread myself alot i did alot of errors , especialy spelling gasharpoon with only one o...)

IM TRYING MY BEST >:/

ANYWAYS

i got john doe coming trust me.

TITLE : stupid sea

HHEHE ALR!

Platonic Headcanons

He hates sirens. Or so he says. Especially the ones who sing sailors to their deaths. He sees them as manipulators. Liars. Monsters.

The only reason he didn’t slice you the moment he saw your fins was because you looked confused instead of smug.

You didn’t try to lure him with a song, just stared at him with tilted curiosity. That pissed him off more.

Despite his grumbling, he didn't leave. And you kept showing up. Humming softly. Splashing water at his boots.

“Stupid sea witch,” he’d mutter.

First Meeting Headcanons

He was on deck, cursing at the sea like always, when he caught a flicker of movement in the waves—you.

His instinct was to draw his harpoon. Sirens kill pirates. End of story.

You just blinked at him, half-submerged, eyes wide and strangely unthreatening. You didn’t sing. You just smiled.

“Tch. A mute one? Great.” He walked away, expecting you to disappear.

The next day you were there again. And the next. And the next. He started yelling at the ocean less.

Getting Along Headcanons

You brought him a shell once. A tiny thing, blue and spiraled. He threw it overboard. Ten minutes later, he dived in to get it.

You started mimicking his expressions. When he scowled, you scowled. When he smirked, you tried it too. That got him to laugh once. Just once.

He pretended to ignore you every time you trailed the ship, swimming alongside. But you noticed how his eyes flicked to you. Often.

He told the crew you were a “nuisance that refuses to drown.” But if any of them insulted you? He got violent.

You finally sang once. Soft, not for power, not to lure—just a lullaby. He didn’t sleep that night. He stared at the stars, wondering what the hell was happening to him.

Realizing He Has Feelings

The day you got injured by a net, he panicked. No one saw it. But he pulled you up, cursed, and tended your wounds with trembling hands.

You bit his hand once, playfully. He yelled at you. But then rubbed the bite mark like it meant something.

He started bringing you things. Not flowers he's not soft like that. But weapons, trinkets, buttons, coins. “Shut up and take it,” he'd bark.

One day he saw your reflection in the water, smiling up at him. His chest tightened. He almost slipped off the railing.

He began to hate every siren except you. And that scared him more than anything else.

How He Confesses

It wasn’t romantic. It was a growled, frustrated, “I should hate you.”

You tilted your head, like always. So he grabbed your chin and snapped, “But I don’t. And I hate that more.”

He stared at you for a long moment, eyes burning like fire against the cool ocean. Then he grunted.

“You’ve ruined me, fishy. I hope you're proud.”

He handed you his favorite blade. Rusted, old, but meaningful. “You ever leave me? I’ll dive down and find you.” It was a threat. It was a vow.

Romantic Headcanons

He lets you braid his hair now. Or decorate his hat with seashells. He growls, but never stops you.

You swim beside the ship constantly. He keeps pace with you from the deck, always watching. If you disappear under the waves for too long, he panics.

When you kiss him (on land or when you pull him underwater), he tastes salt and strangely fish-. He always ends up flustered, muttering curses under his breath.

He holds you tighter than necessary when he hugs you, arms banded around you like you might vanish into foam.

He calls you things like "my wave" , "my starfish" , or still "sea witch" but now it's more of a playful name than anything else.

CAN YOU TELL I LOVE JOHN DOE??

i love him bro he is my fav <33

[onepieceisreeeeaaalll]

Smutty Law HCs

I finally did it. Just like I did for Zoro, here are my self-indulgent Law smutty headcanons in their full glory. I can't help it. My brain rot is too far gone. I may go back and edit after posting like I usually do, but here it is.

CW: NSFW MDNI! P in v, light impact play, slightly dominant Law, possessive Law, some sweetness too though

Check out my masterlist if you like stuff like this!

Law is someone who keeps himself relatively focused and composed. It’s obvious to anyone who knows him that he’s a busy man. Honestly, you weren’t even sure he had a sex drive until you got together.

Oh boy, were you wrong.

This man has a fairly good grasp on work-life balance despite how busy he keeps himself. He’ll work for hours on end tirelessly but always makes room for companionship to spend time with his crew. You included.

So, after a grueling day of work, he might need to blow off a little steam.

Where he’ll start might seem obvious - he’ll grab you up the moment you’re alone in either of your quarters, already placing heated kisses and nips along your neck. There isn’t always a warning, but it’s become fairly routine at this point.

Law loves necks, collarbones, ears - the whole upper body is his domain for foreplay. He loves to tease, nipping and claiming territory where he’s careful to place in areas that no one will see. 

Not that he minds if anyone did see the marks he’s left. 

He’ll push you up against a wall, his tongue lavishing your throat with attention, sucking and nipping at the helpless flesh as he pulls small gasps and moans that vibrate against his mouth.

It just makes him go crazy.

His hands like to travel, moving down your chest, to your hips, your waist. Anywhere he can grab, he’s gonna grab. Love handles? He’s grabbing them. Hip dips? Baby, those are the perfect indents for his hands.

It’s always needy with him, too, and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s pent up or because he can’t get enough of you. Probably both.

“Haven’t stopped thinking about you,” He’ll groan, his voice muffled against your skin.

The moment he decides he can’t stand to wait anymore, when he’s already covered you with a sufficient amount of hickeys and love bites, the clothes have been tossed aside and you’re on the bed. He’s kissing everywhere his lips can land.

When he’s feeling a little more rough, though? He loves to push you down over a desk, a table, a nightstand. One of his favorite things is to bend you over, smack your ass, grab it, and tell you that you’ve been getting on his nerves all day. He’ll even provide examples, though on days you were fine, he’ll honestly just nitpick all the ways your body drove him crazy.

“You’re such a pain in my ass, you know that? Walking around like you own the goddamn ship. Remind me who your captain is.”

“Tired of seeing you show that much skin in battle. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get yourself killed.”

When he’s taking his time, though, it’s more careful. His hands travel, and he loves to caress you anywhere he can. His touch is always deliberate - slow, calculated. Mind over matter.

He’ll kiss down your body, worshipping it in a way that’s purely possessive. Every inch of your body is part of the journey, his hands running over your breasts, down your stomach, tracing along each curve with his tongue.

He likes to tease with his fingers more than anything, whether it be against your pert nipples, down your sides, into your aching cunt. He knows how to use his hands very well - they’re steady, practiced, the tell-tale signs of a surgeon. Law treats your body with as much care as any operation he performs.

The 'E' and 'A' tattoos on his hands always sink so perfectly into you, curling in the way that he knows you crave. If you rut against his hand, he'll tut, holding your hips steady with the full grip of 'death' on his other hand.

"So needy. Can't you be patient for me?"

All the while, his smile is bordering sadistic. He loves seeing you go crazy for his hands.

Law has your body mapped out in his brain, all the places that elicit very specific reactions from you. He lives for the moans or gasps from grabbing your hips, gripping your ass, spreading your thighs. 

He likes to take you apart piece by piece, a small reminder to both himself and you that each part of your body inexplicably belongs to him and no one else. Nobody else can touch you the way that he can, can systematically bring you to the edge of orgasm and hold you there the way he effortlessly does. 

Blowjobs, though. We need to talk about blowjobs, because these are always an event. This is a quick blow-job sidebar.

Law used to hate them. Full-stop, he hated the idea of his dick in someone’s mouth. It always felt too vulnerable, and far too unsanitary.

Something about you though just makes him want to see how far down your throat he can get it, if you’re willing.

He used to think he couldn’t come from a blowjob. He was almost certain. One time he saw your eyes prick up with tears, though, and heard you moan around his cock. That sent him over easily, and now it’s a regular occurrence. He loves the idea of you enjoying sucking his dick, bringing him that pleasure, and he’ll happily let you sink to your knees and take care of him.

Sex itself just depends on his mood. 

While he talks more during foreplay, he’s usually more quiet during sex. This is mostly because he’s using so much effort to keep himself from coming too fast. 

When he wants to be rougher and say nasty things to you, you’re on your hands and knees so he can’t come too quickly from the fucked out look on your face.

“Yeah - listen to you, so loud for me. You gonna be a good girl and keep taking what I give you?”

He’ll whisper expletives under his breath, and if you fuck back on him? He’ll lose it, right then and there, easily. It’s your quickest way to ensure a fast orgasm from him.

Otherwise, he looooooves to push you onto your stomach so he can kiss your back, grab your ass, slide his fingers down to that aching wet pussy he’s already worked up so well just by giving you attention. Something about you not being able to see what he’s doing turns him on.

“So sensitive, and I’ve barely even done anything.”

His favorite positions, though, are the ones where he can see your face. He loves every expression you make, the way your face contorts in ecstasy, how your eyes glaze over as you get closer to coming. He’s never seen anything more erotic.

During this kind of sex, Law’s still a talker, but it’s quiet. Hushed. He doesn’t want others to hear anything remotely vulnerable from him. It’s only for you. Only ever for you.

He’ll whisper that he loves you, that you’re beautiful, things that he’s certain he’ll only ever say when his cock is buried deep in your velvet walls. Outside of sex, Law keeps these feelings to himself - making love, however, he lets it out. It’s almost impossible for him not to.

When he finally comes, he’s always louder than he wants to be, but he can’t help it. The grunts from holding it in always turn into long, quiet whines that he muffles into your shoulder or neck. His hips always slow steadily, pumping as much as he can until he finally gives out from exhaustion.

He likes to just cock warm after sex for a while, always careful to place his arms around you once he’s picked himself up. He doesn’t want to crush you or anything like that, but the proximity of having you perfectly wrapped around him feels nice. The connection is what gets him more than anything.

If he doesn’t go more than once, it’s a rare occurrence. Refractory time on this man is crazy. We’re talking at least two rounds every time you go at it, likely because he’s been pent up.

Aftercare is important. In fact, it’s not even a second thought with Law. It’s so natural.

When he’s finally had enough and lets his cock out of you, he takes a brief second to admire his come spilling out of you before he’ll let himself lay back on the bed. His bedside table always has towels at the ready, along with painkillers and water. He likes to cuddle, to rest for a while before getting into the shower with you.

At first, showering with you felt awkward. He didn’t know where to stand or what to do with his hands. Eventually, though, he grew more comfortable.

Now it’s a matter of just staying as close as possible to share the warm water, and his hands are always gentle as they caress and wash your body.

[neeeooon]

shut me up ;

24 | pretty girl pt. 2

ft. fem!reader & kaiser, ness, shidou, sae, bachira

cw. cussing, mentions of alcohol/being drunk, fighting (nothing physical except someone getting shoved against a wall), kaiser being a jerk pt 3? 4? character shipping/est relationships

"hey, pretty girl."

your immediate instinct was to shove him away and yell at him for getting drunk and hitting on you right after a show, but when you met his eyes, you faltered. despite his easy grin, he looked uncomfortable.

kaiser leaned forward like he was going to kiss you, fingers gently pushing your head away from whoever was in front of you, and pressed his lips to the shell of your ear. "play along." he straightened and you smiled, pretending just as you had when you broke into his apartment weeks ago.

"great show, handsome," you faked a lovesick voice and internally chanted, why am i doing this i hate him i hate him, before smacking his ass and leaning against him with a pout. "i definitely drank way too much, though. can you take me home?"

“kaiser—“ a soft voice nearly begged, and you finally noticed the boy standing in front of you. he was shorter than kaiser, with chocolate brown hair streaked through with magenta. his eyes were large and sad, and you almost apologized for pretending to be someone you weren't.

as if he could sense your hesitation, kaiser tightened his grasp around your waist and tugged you closer so that you could feel the hard planes of muscle beneath his tee.

"of course," he smiled down at you in a way that made you hate him. he looked at you like he wanted you. like no one else in the room existed but you and him. you thanked the low lighting for hiding your blush. kaiser looked away from you. "bye, ness."

the boy, ness, took a step forward. "kaiser!"

kaiser pulled you impossibly closer, your skin burning at the contact, and walked you backstage to where the other members were waiting. the second the two of you were out of sight, you shoved out of kaiser's grip and took a step back. "the hell was that?"

his grip had already loosened, so it wasn't hard for you to break away. he wouldn't meet your eyes. "my ex."

a fist suddenly wrapped tight around kaiser's collar, and you watched as shidou shoved kaiser against the wall. sae was there in a flash, pulling shidou away while keeping a hand pressed to kaiser's shoulder, holding him in place. bachira dragged you away, and you shivered at how tense it was.

sae was the first to speak. "you used her as a ness shield? you fucking idiot."

"i ended it," kaiser said back, but his usual bite wasn't there. "for real this time."

you turned your face to where only bachira could hear while keeping your eyes glued on the scene in front of you. "ness? kaiser's ex?"

"kaiser's crazy ex."

"who has a tendency to stalk our singer's one-night stands," shidou piped up, obviously hearing what you and bachira were discussing.

kaiser shoved sae's hand away from his shoulder and pushed off the wall. "he doesn't do that anymore."

"that's not true and you know it," sae grumbled, moving out of kaiser's way as the blond moved toward the exit. "don't use her or anyone else like that again. do you understand?" sae's voice was always bored, but something in his stance made you shift closer to bachira.

kaiser glanced over his shoulder and opened his mouth like he wanted to rebuke, but snapped it shut instead. "fine."

masterlist // previous (ch 23) // next (ch 25)

notes -> THE KAINESS LEAKS BRUHHH

tags -> @x3nafix @n0tbelle @nensi @ohagiyoo @tired-child00 @melinana @chaoslibra @kaidostwin @bubybubsters @miss-aesthetic-13 @ihsoti @arwawawa2 @lonigiri @realrintaro @mivqko @sorasushik1 @pookalicious-hq @higuchislut @tofumiarchives @p1z-d0n7jud6em3 @rainychi2 @ch4rstxr @sapph1r3x @sagging-saging @5-laska @tuna-toes @seinuis @sindulgent666 @evilari111 @newinhalerpls @kisses2kanao @sugacor3 @meizumi @90s-belladonna @meowstertruck420 @kyutiipie @ranzess @cookiesandcreammy @nevvynev @stwberri @mikeymyfav @dontmindtheevie @kaikaidenkai @mizukiblogs @ravenbc @yvanllie @cyberasterrr @lily-isalittlegirl @yourlocaleffy @hanamatopoeia

© neeeooon, 2025

[universefcb]

Heyy can you do Pau Cubarsí x reader where she like gets shipped with Hector by the fans and he can’t stand it anymore so he takes the matter in his own hands. Let it be like all fluffy & funny xx 💋

JEALOUS BOY PAU CUBARSÍ.

→ Warning: no.

→ Author's note: Why does he seem to be more beautiful every day?

→ And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

Pau was never the dramatic type. He liked the simple things: waking up early, having his coffee with toast, training with headphones on full volume and spending the afternoon watching stupid videos with you. He was calm, observant and even a little quiet compared to the others on the team.

But even calm people have limits.

And Pau Cubarsí's limit had a name, a surname and an entire fandom rooting against their relationship: Héctor Fort.

You and Héctor had been best friends since before Pau met you—and he accepted that. He even liked how you got along so effortlessly, exchanged inside jokes, and had that whole 'loud duo' vibe. The problem was, the world liked it too. Too much.

All you had to do was open any social network and there it was:

— Guys, Héctor’s look at her doesn’t lie.

— They are so compatible, look at that chemistry.

— If I’m not going to have a best friend like that, I don’t even want one.

— Sorry Pau, but you lost, love.

— The stick there, watching… sad.

Sad? SAD?

Pau swallowed the comments with the same energy as someone drinking sour juice. Pretending he didn't see. Pretending he didn't care. Pretending he didn't want to throw his cell phone at the wall.

The worst part was when someone edited a video with the three of you: you between Pau and Héctor, but all the romantic scenes were of you with Fort. The video ended with: “She chose the right one. #HectaderEndGame”.

That didn't work out. Because the next day, Pau showed up at training looking grumpy. Focused, silent, and, according to his teammates, in danger of exploding.

“What happened to him?” Héctor asked, as they stretched.

“Maybe the fandom calling you his girlfriend’s prince charming has finally gone to his head,” laughed Gavi.

“What an exaggeration,” Héctor muttered, but clearly enjoying the attention.

Pau snorted, jaw clenched.

Later, you arrived at the training center to pick up Pau — as you sometimes did — and found him sitting with his head down, playing with his cell phone. When he saw you, his serious expression softened a little. But the tension was still there.

“Hi, Mi hermoso chico ,” you said, throwing your bag on the bench and leaning in to kiss him. (My beautiful boy)

He pulled you into his arms with ease, completely ignoring the fact that they were in a public space.

“Can I post something?” he asked, his eyes fixed on hers.

“Post what?”

“A picture of us. Like... really together.”

You blinked.

“Out of nowhere?”

“It’s not out of nowhere,” he grumbled, his fingers tightening around her waist. “It’s a survival strategy. If I see one more montage of you and Héctor, I swear I’ll go into hibernation. Or freak out. Or both.”

You burst out laughing.

“Dude… are you jealous of the internet?”

“Not from the internet. His. And worse: he loves it.”

You kissed his cheek and picked up your phone.

“So let’s give the audience what they don’t expect.”

Two hours later, Pau posted a photo. It wasn't just any photo.

You on his lap, with your legs crossed around his waist, your faces close together. He's smiling a little, with that air of 'I'm shy, but I own the world when I'm with her'. The caption?

'She's mine. And no, this is not fiction. #SorryHéctor'

You couldn't stop laughing the rest of the night. Especially since the internet went down.

@user1: THE STICK CAME WITH HEAVY WEAPONRY AAAAAA

@user2: HÉCTOR FAINTED LIVE

@user3: #Héctaders fell, #PauComOrgulho was born

And to complete the chaos, Pau even posted on his stories:

To Héctader’s fans, I’m sorry. In the next life, maybe.

with a selfie of you sleeping on his shoulder, with the caption 'peace has returned'

But the best was yet to come.

The next day, Héctor showed up at your house with a bag of cheese bread and an indignant look on his face.

“I’ve been attacked, Cubarsí. My notifications keep calling me a homewrecker!”

“Well done,” Pau replied dryly as he sipped his coffee.

You were on the couch, watching the two of them like a reality show.

“You guys are ridiculous, you know that?”

“Ridiculously beautiful,” Pau said, pulling you by the arm and placing you on his lap.

Hector grimaced.

“Okay, I deserved that one.”

**

And so, the world met the real couple of the story.

Héctor had to endure weeks of jokes about being the 'imaginary ex', but deep down, he found it all hilarious. Pau, on the other hand, was more relaxed. Still jealous, of course. But now with his chest full of pride.

And you?

You had the two funniest and craziest men in Spain as part of your life. But only one of them would kiss your forehead before going to sleep and say, softly:

“If you want, I'll post a picture every day. Just to make sure no one doubts that you're mine.”

And the truth is, you really didn't doubt it.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinott @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[danielhowell]

DOOMED MERCH HAS DROPPED!

No this is not a drill - after touring the world (that is ending), probably the coolest merch I will ever release is finally here - we have scoured the corners of the earth to pull together a collection of WE'RE ALL DOOMED! merch to celebrate the recent show (and slit) and bring it online for you.

From the tour date t-shirt, to the iconic DOOMED ambigram hoodie, the black metal longsleeve and ..the 'DanHub tee' - choose what your apocalyptic aesthetic is.

WORLDWIDE: shop.danielhowell.com USA: us.shop.danielhowell.com EUROPE: eu.shop.danielhowell.com AUSTRALIA: au.shop.danielhowell.com

As a SPECIAL (wow) online-only offer - every order of the super limited quantity Vegan Leather Jacket (with rapture art on the reverse) will also ship with a totally unique Polaroid selfie that I took while thinking about death! 

I make no promises what I will be doing - it could be a cute smile, or a middle-finger. It's just whatever the vibe was in the moment. Who knows what someone will trade for the rare under-chin angle that some lucky person will get? (I am so sorry)

And it's not just garments - we've also got rare collectors items to snatch including the interval playlist cassette tape, and the 'Tears of My Enemies' water bottle, that I drink out of myself everyday while manifesting people's downfall.

Lastly, look out for the signed Ally Pally London show posters commemorating the final performances, which may come with fingerprints allowing you to perfectly fraud my identity, due to my left-handed sharpie smudging.

I want to say thank you to the tens of thousands of people that tuned into the stream to celebrate my show - without you it wouldn't have been possible to capture for posterity and now the message can live on. I'm going to begin my quest to determine where DOOMED will live forever, and who knows if we'll manage to wrangle any of the other rare itemz🐝 along with it in the future. I appreciate you all and I can't wait to see you all looking gnarly as fuck scaring the normies in this merch. Thanks 🖤 - Dan

[bluebnny]

Out of control

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

trafalgar law x reader

contents: just law being the biggest tease, suggestive, but no smut, established relationship, everything that happens is consentual

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, law feels up reader, a lot of teasing from law in general - reader is technically gender neutral (ie. no use of pronouns), but has a vagina

a/n: this was originally supposed to be more of a headcanons type of thing, but i kind of suck at writing those, so i've been fighting with it in my drafts for a week before deciding to just make it a one shot. Except it's not a one shot, and i was so focused on the build up that i didn't even get to the actual smut so... part 2 hopefully soon? Dividers made by me. Happy reading, and enjoy <3

word count: 1.761

The steady hum of the Polar Tang’s engine accompanies you as you make your way down one of the ship’s corridors. The sound being only punctuated by your soft steps echoing along the walls. You love the sound, even though it’s very monotone. There’s something calming about it that gives the metal submarine a very welcoming vibe. Once you get over the initial feeling of claustrophobia, that is. You remember the sensation of being trapped when you had first stepped foot onto the ship, hating that the icy, crushing ocean was just beyond those walls, enclosing you from all sides.

But the tough adjustment period was well worth it, as you soon discovered. You had never in your life slept as soundly and deeply as you did on the submarine, the faint drone of the ship lulling you to sleep every night. Together with the fact that you never wake up from harsh sunlight streaming through the windows, it creates the perfect environment to rest.

Plus, sharing a comfy bed with your boyfriend doesn’t hurt either, you think as you round the corner to his office.

“Hey Law, I was supposed to give you these earlier, I only just remembered.” Walking into the room, you don’t look up from the bundle of papers in your hands at first, his silence not out of the ordinary. What you had found intimidating at first, you now chalk up to a certain amount of social awkwardness.

But when you meet his eyes, you’re taken aback by the look on his face. You know that look. He has that ever so subtle smirk and dangerous glint in his eyes, making him seem like he’s about to pounce on you. Or maybe it’s just the lack of his usual scowl. Either way, it automatically makes the space between your legs burn hot in a way you’ve come to associate only with him.

Law’s hat is on the table, leaving his messy hair on full display, and it looks ruffled in that endearing way you like. His casual black shirt brings out his hair colour even more, and the neckline is just low enough to show his collar bones and the top of his chest tattoo. The sleeves, which are rolled up to his elbows, give you a perfect view of his toned forearms. And your eyes can’t help tracing the markings adorning them all the way down to his hands.

“E- everything ok?” You try to sound casual, like you haven’t noticed anything, giving him a light, innocent smile. But you already know the odds are not in your favour. You don’t stand a chance, already struggling not to ogle him too plainly.

“Everything’s ok.” He simply answers, the way his eyes narrow a little telling you he’s onto you. But he doesn’t address it, loving to toy with you. “Are those the inventory lists? It’s about time we plan out next restock, I assume.”

“Ehm- yes! We’ve already assessed our current food reserve and made a general list for things to stock up on. Of course, we always end up adding things last minute, so it’s not the final one.” You ramble on, blinking a little to clear your head and force yourself to look away from your boyfriend’s hands. Your gaze instead meets his, which you immediately regret. He’s wearing his reading glasses, and the way they frame his face paired with the darker skin around his eyes makes your knees a little weak. He has that smart, authoritative air around him, and you’re a little ashamed of how much you like it.

He obviously notices that, too, having taken note long ago of the way your eyes always stray to his hands when he gets you riled up. But still, he won’t break the tension, enjoying the uncertain look on your face. He loves making you nervous. Forcing you to lose your composure.

“Ok.” And after a short pause, “You can leave them on my desk.” As you had made no sign of stepping closer.

“Oh, yes of course.” Only now remembering you had stopped in your tracks a few steps from where he is sitting. You walk up to stand next to him, trying to find a good spot to place the papers without disorganizing all the stuff already cluttering up the space.

Law doesn’t let a lot of people touch his workspace. He doesn’t trust that others won’t disturb the carefully organised mess that only he can perfectly navigate. But he doesn’t help you clear a spot like he usually would. In fact, he’s not even looking at his desk, his eyes still fixed on you with that sly expression on his face.

You don’t notice at first, thankful to focus your hands and mind on something other than the way Law is affecting them. However, your relief is short-lived when you feel his hand gently snake around the back of your thigh, just above your knee. You try to ignore it, but your breath hitches when he keeps moving it, slowly running it further up the inside of your leg.

“Uhm, Law?” You can’t hold back the shakiness in your voice now, knowing he must be reeling in the way you so desperately try to cling to your composure.

“Hm?” Is all he says, voice sounding far too innocent for the situation, but his hand doesn’t stop.

“Uhm- I uhh.” You don’t dare glance at your boyfriend. “Where did you want them?”

“Just anywhere is fine, thank you.” His taunting is apparent only in the way his voice is way too casual for what he’s doing. He gives you a slight squeeze, hand almost at its destination between your legs.

“I’ll just put them wherever then.” You try to quickly end the exchange and leave, but before you can even place down the papers, Law’s hand reaches its target. The bump of his thumb pressing against your entrance, while his index pushes up against your clit. It makes you give an involuntary flinch at the delicious prickling feeling running up your body, feeling goosebumps forming under your boiler suit.

Your head whips around to glare at him, but he holds your gaze, his teasing smirk now a little more pronounced. The way his deep grey eyes pierce you from over the rim of his glasses, paired with a taunting raise of his eyebrow instantly has you blushing. His hand stays where it is.

“Is something the matter?” He simply can’t stop. There’s a deep, dark part of him that relishes in the feeling he gets from putting you in a helpless position. And it’s not because he doesn’t like you, on the contrary. He loves you. You are his partner, his favourite person in the world, the only one he wants, now and forever. And that’s precisely why he needs to knock you off the pedestal he alone has placed you on.

Law is heavily traumatized. Since childhood, he has been a victim of unbearable circumstances out of his influence, completely alone, his survival hinging only on his ability to show no weakness. As a result, Law’s biggest fear is being at the mercy of others, feeling vulnerable. He started to develop cruel and violent tendencies to cope, desperate to no longer live in fear, to stop being prey. Thinking, in his reckless scramble for control, that becoming the hunter is the only option.

Obviously, Law has changed since then, no longer walking into the headquarters of renowned criminals with grenades strapped to his chest. He learned to plan ahead, becoming more strategic and less erratic in his approach. And he also learned that strength lies in numbers more than ruthlessness. But a small part of him will always stay a terrified child whose only tactic is to attack at the first sign of danger.

And you have an unfortunate way of triggering that side of him.

“Law, you know I have work to do.” You frown, trying to hide how much he’s getting to you. A part of you wishes he would simply take you here and now, but you know he won’t. You learned long ago that Law likes to play with his food before eating it.

“I know you do. Is there something preventing you from attending to your duties?” That bastard.

Though he doesn’t show it, Law is terrified of the way you make him feel, of the way he completely forgets himself when you’re around. A part of him craves touching you, wanting you in his arms all night, closely watching your face while you’re taking what he’s giving you. To love you, fully, and to be loved back in the same way. But he simply doesn't believe it could happen to him, so used to neglecting his emotional needs he doesn’t know how to ask for love, sometimes forgetting he even needs it.

So, he has learned to take it. The index finger still applying pressure on your clit starts to slowly move back and forth. You flinch again, a slight moan escaping you this time.

You know you can’t win this. Not while he’s already thrown you off guard. Not while his hand is between your legs like it’s the most normal thing in the world, while you’re struggling to regain your composure.

“Uhh, no, there isn’t.” You respond, glad your voice is somewhat normal at least, since your cheeks are burning. “Sorry, captain, I’ll return to work now.” It takes everything in you to turn around and leave. He was making you feel so needy, almost wanting to give in to his teasing just to have him touch you a little longer.

Law raises his eyebrows again, this time in mild surprise. You have never managed to walk away like this, usually letting him touch you a little longer until you needed more, quickly starting to beg when he refuses to go further and instead sends you back to work. He never thought you would show such self-restraint, forcing yourself to leave despite almost shaking from the effort. And he loves it.

Unbeknownst to you, you have now given Law a new objective: to see how far he can push you before you finally crack, throwing yourself at him, pleading with him to take you as if your life depends on it. Oh, this is going to be very fun.

“See you at dinner.” He teases, but you don’t respond, too focused on leaving with what little dignity you still have and already coming up with a plan to get your revenge.

Thx so much for reading! :D (This is my fic, don't repost! Reblogs are always appreciated <3)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

[alargehunkofdebris]

Why There’ll Never Be Another Good Omens 2 Experience

The strangest thing happened after a few days post my watching of S2. I got a wave of real, bittersweet sadness.

Not due to the obvious – I was dealing with that too, but with more excitement than anything – but because I realized something, as a writer and consumer of media. I realized that it’s unlikely I’ll ever get a media experience close to what I experienced at the end of Good Omens 2. Because really, its setup was absolutely unparalleled – in general, and for myself personally.

I am currently writing my third romance, and what I’ve learned primarily about the genre, the way for it to really work, is that there needs to be something keeping the couple apart initially. The more things keeping the couple apart, the stronger the romance hits. The more the couple clashes with each other, the better it is. Societal norms, class issues, initial dislike, literal danger—all these aspects are what make a romance a story. It’s that conflict that creates the compelling narrative. No romance was ever popular because things worked out well from the beginning – it’s that “look at what we were, and look at us now” aspect that gives readers/watchers that satisfaction. It’s the “I can’t believe this happened” effect. The “I would never have foreseen this” effect. The “they’ll never be together” effect. It’s why forbidden romances are so incredibly popular.

Another aspect that makes a romance story really work well is the amount of time it takes for the romance to develop. A couple that gets together after a few days? Eh, it’s tricky. You better make it really dramatic somehow. A great example is Titanic – class differences, betrothal, and a huge amount of danger threatens this couple, so them being in love after only a few days works. But what really sells this one is because we can see how this romance has survived beyond those few days. We see it 80 years in the future, still there, in the memory of Rose. That is why it hits so hard. Romances that span over long periods of time (especially ones that are bittersweet/tragic) hit so much more than ones spanning a short period.

But wait! There’s more!

You can up this effect by not only having the romance take time in story…but having it take time in real life, for the viewer/reader.

This is why romances in TV shows that take years to finally work out are so compelling. It’s that “Pam and Jim” effect, that will-they-won’t-they deal. We are waiting right along with them, and we’re feeling that same relief when all those things keeping them apart finally fall away. This is harder to pull off, because there’s never that guarantee that the story will make it that far. TV shows get cancelled, creators lose interest or die, etc. So it’s not just “Will They, Won’t They,” it’s “Will They, Won’t They, Can They Even Try?”

This is also compounded by that fear that it won’t happen in-story after all, and while in romances you’re pretty positive that things work out (they kinda have to, for it to be labeled a “romance”) in other media, there’s always that possibility. Look at Community – there’s a forbidden/conflict-ridden romance that didn’t end up working out, even though it was “Will They, Won’t They”d for six entire seasons. You also then have shows and ships where fans are almost sure it won’t happen, but still hold out hope. (See: Supernatural, Sherlock, etc.)

Now. Now look at Good Omens. Look at that absolutely unparalleled, unbelievable set up. It’s unbelievable because it takes almost every single thing that makes a romance compelling, and not only uses all of them, but dials them up to 11.

Why are they at odds? Why are they forbidden from being together?

Because they are literally the most opposing forces you can imagine in Western Canon. They are the Angel Guarding The Gate and The Serpent of Eden. The literal only way you could’ve made this a bigger deal would’ve been to make it God and Satan, and even that would’ve not hit as hard, because it’d be like two CEOs getting together – there’s no fear of a higher power adding that delicious conflict. And to add to all this, in real life, the couple is portrayed as two men, which adds that second meta level of conflict.

And what fear/danger is keeping this couple apart?

Not just familial disappointment—but disappointment from God and Heaven and Hell. Not just moral guilt, but the guilt of potentially dooming the entire Earth. And finally, on top of that, the very real danger of being killed. Not only that, but making it as though you never even existed.

And in real life, they face all those roadblocks that queer couples in media have been battling for years and years, but I'll talk about that more in a second.

Okay, then Time. How long have they been kept apart?

For…all of it.

All of the time that ever existed.

They, quite literally, could not have been kept apart longer.

And this leads into those final two points, the ones that actually really sell it. Because I can sit down right now and write a story about an angel and a demon falling for each other at the beginning of time against all odds…but what I can’t do is to have already written it thirty-three years ago.

That’s how long this story has existed. Thirty. Three. Years.

I’m not even counting how this is using characters that have existed as opposing forces for thousands of years. I’m not even saying that, even though that’s also a part of it. But besides that, this story, this exact story started thirty-three years ago, and is still being continued by the author to this day.

Do you know how uncommon that is?

Yes, we have canon that has lasted for many, many years. Hundreds. We get new versions of beloved older stories ever year. But it’s so very rare that they are by the same creator. We get new Sherlock Holmes content, but it is not written by Arthur Conan Doyle. This, on the other hand, is actual canon content, written by the author of the original. That is unbelievably rare.

That means we’ve got a fandom where some people have grown up with these characters. People who read it at twenty are fifty-three. People who read it at fifty are eighty-three. Kids who saw their parents reading the book now have children of their own. It is a cult classic that has been in the hearts of so many people for generations. Me, personally, I fell in love with it ten years ago, at age twenty, at the very beginning of my own writing journey. This story means so much to people, because it’s stood that test of time.

And yet, this story was never explicitly romantic. So many saw it that way, but it was never something confirmed. Because this was a book from the 90s, at a time where this kind of romance just wasn’t in popular media if it wasn’t played as a joke. It was, back then, the same kind of “forbidden” as a romance between angel and demon. So people imagined, but they never expected anything more. And they’ve continued not expecting more, because even in the 2019 first season, there was never any true confirmation of anything, and people accepted it. You have a 33-year-old story here – it’s possible that this major change/confirmation could happen, but all things considered, it was unlikely. You would never blame the creator for not making major developments to a story they wrote with their late friend a lifetime ago. And no one in production was saying a word to confirm or deny, but we’ve seen all this before. It was a Will-They-Won’t-They…Probably-Not situation.

And then you have the end of S2.

And that's where that bittersweet sadness comes in for me, personally. Not at a huge level, not to the point where I'd have it any other way, but it's there regardless. Because I realized that this was a unique situation that could never be replicated, for me, and likely for many, especially readers of the book pre-show. In all likelihood, I would never again experience a romantic payoff like this one. Because it was the most forbidden of forbidden romances, the couple of which have been kept apart by the worst of all dangers and highest level of guilt for the longest amount of time literally possible, written over a real-life span of time where this kind of romance went from “completely taboo even in real life” to “finally acceptable in popular media,” written by the same creator, and not confirmed as canon until the story reached the age of Jesus Christ himself.

And the real kicker is, even after everything these two literally star-crossed lovers have gone through…they’re still being kept apart. They’ve still not taken down those final, seemingly insurmountable barriers between them. It wasn’t a “here you go 😊” move to make long-time fans happy – it’s being used as a perfect, painful plot point. After 33 years, we’re still having to wait longer.

Chef's kiss. Couldn’t have been a better set up if it was mathematically calculated. And yet, the best part is that it happened organically.

It just works.

[bitterrfruit]

you re-enlist

And Captain John Price absolutely doesn't want you to. He begrudgingly takes you to his office to sign the paperwork - and shows you what your decision has brought you.

18+ MDNI - 5k words

tags: John Price x f!Reader, power play, oral and vaginal sex

a/n: To get some content on here I've pulled this from my longfic Licking Wounds on Ao3. Trimmed/tweaked it a little to make them tumblr friendly :)

“Just... let me sign what I need to.” You breathed, exasperated.

Captain Price sat behind his desk, leaning back insouciantly in his chair, bouncing his knee in irritation. His cautious and tired eyes flitted between yours, considering his words before he spoke.

“This is your last chance to change your mind.” He grunted.

You sucked your teeth frustration. “I’m not changing my mind.”

“You should.”

“Why? Will my presence really be that fucking draining for you?”

He quickly absorbed your sudden anger, mirroring it as he stood from his chair, leaning against the surface of his desk on white knuckles.

“You know that’s not what this is about.”

His tone was by turn seething and pleading, glowering at you with gruelling severity.

You scoffed. “Oh, so it would be.”

“For fuck’s sake, don’t be childish.”

“Childish?”

Evidently fed up with your petulant bickering, his head dropped from his shoulders as he grunted in frustration. “I just... I can’t understand why you’d come back to this.”

“You can’t?”

“You had the chance to get away from it. You got out.”

“Got out. You think I got out, do you? That once I got shipped back to London I was done with it all?” You groaned, impatient. “Just let me sign the goddamn paper."

There was visible dispute burgeoning behind his lips, but he stayed silent – leaning forward to tug open one of the drawers of his desk. He pulled out a pad of blank paper forms, hesitantly but methodically tearing one sheet free along the perforated line. He flipped it, placing it down on the wooden surface and twisting it so it faced you, pushing it towards the edge in your direction with his fingertips.

He plucked a ballpoint pen from the steel mesh cup on the edge of the desk, before dropping it on top of the paper form with a quiet clack.

Crossing his arms, he stood upright with a huff and watched you scrutinisingly; glare challenging yet reluctant.

You quietly swallowed, stepping abashedly towards the desk and leaning over it, holding the pen between your fingers and pensively clicking the end of it with your thumb.

Jaded eyes scanned each word, the tip of the pen trailing each line as you read. You checked box after box, writing down the answers to probing questions as though you were completing an exam under the shrewdly watchful eye of your professor. Existing health conditions, current medication, family lineage, previous rank, promotable status. It would almost be nostalgic, answering questions such as these again, for the first time since you were promoted to sergeant four years ago – if it didn’t carry such painful weight, and weren’t so rife with sordid history.

The nib of your pen met that dotted line, finally, at the bottom of the form. Your eyes looked at the conditions and implications of your signature, that thick paragraph above the box, though not a single word was absorbed by your busy mind. It didn’t matter – you knew the consequences of that pen meeting the paper. Even if the Captain wished it, signing your life back into the hands of the SAS was not something that could be easily revoked.

He seemed to relish hopefully in your hesitation, his breath slowing as he watched you consider, pen hovering cautiously over the paper.

You briefly glanced up at him, from under your challenging eyebrows, meeting his eye. His stiff gaze wordlessly pleaded with you, his mouth in an austere line.

Steadfast, you ignored his silent dispute.

You signed the dotted line.

There.

Done.

No backing out now.

A soldier again.

You were astonished at the adrenaline a mere signature could pump from your heart, quivering with it, as you dropped the pen to the desk and stood upright.

His steely eyes did not leave you, face replete with a medley of discernible emotions; ire, anxiety, remorse, solemnity. Arms still crossed firmly over his chest, you listened as his heaving lungs drew in a deep, exasperated breath.

He licked his teeth before he spoke.

“That’ll be all then, Sergeant.”

He dismissed you bluntly, coarse voice dripping with derision. A crease formed in your forehead, taken aback by his sudden dismissal, breath hitching at his use of your rank instead of your name; sergeant, a title he hadn’t referred to you by in two years.

It was as though he was satisfied, doing his best to show you what your decision had brought you, to make you regret it. You were his subordinate again. Just his sergeant.

“I knew you’d enjoy it in the end, Captain.” You seethed, tone draped in sardonicism, an immediate retaliation.

His brow furrowed as he looked down his nose at you. “Enjoy what, eh?”

“You finally get to order me around again, don’t you?”

“You-”

“Am I dismissed? Or are you going to command me to drop and give you fifty?” You growled pettishly, scowling up at him. “It must’ve been hard, not being able to command me to do your bidding while I was a civilian. But that didn’t stop you from trying, did it?”

He grunted, an increasingly enraged sigh escaping his chest. “I didn’t want to be giving you orders again.”

“Bullshit.”

“No, I didn’t. Just because you don’t know what to do with yourself when you’re not being commanded to do it, doesn’t mean I’ve been waiting for the chance to.”

A kick to the stomach, you worried you’d lose your balance with the blow.

Grimacing at him, you stepped your weight onto your back foot in reaction to his venomous accusation.

“Fuck you.”

You hissed it through your teeth, unable to conjure up any intelligent rebuttal, only lashing out with the reprisal that your frenetic emotions scrambled together.

He sniffed irately, adjusting his arms over his chest.

“Can’t talk to your captain that way, Sergeant.”

Your jaw hung loose in disbelief, overcome with a cold rage that made your body quake as it flooded your arteries.

“Fuck you,” you repeated wryly, daring. “Are you going to order me not to talk back to you, sir? You prick?”

He glared at you with challenging contempt.

“You want me to give you an order, do you?”

“I want you to get off your fucking high horse.”

“Yeah? Am I too honourable?”

“Honourable? You’re a sanctimonious p–”

He put his hands on his hips, brashly sucking his teeth before he interrupted you.

“Take off your shirt.”

His hoarse command pierced the thick air like a bullet.  

The wind was viciously sucked from your lungs, then, your racing heart jolted under your ribs with such voltage it felt as though you had been shocked by a defibrillator. You could only stare at him, stupid, waiting for him to relent, to take it back, to say that he was kidding.

His expression, now, was unreadable. You weren’t certain whether he was purposefully keeping his countenance devoid of emotion – or, if, you had abruptly lost any and all ability to understand him or his intentions.

He was a stranger, but a familiar one. A captivating one.

Before you could stammer out a semblance of a response, he continued.

“That’s the sort of order you’ve been wanting from me, isn’t it?” He goaded darkly, seemingly smug at his ability to render you flustered and wordless with one short sentence.

Dumbstruck, still, you could only swallow a pointed breath as you desperately tried to read any clear objective in his shrouded blue eyes.

“Go on.”

He’s not kidding.

“You wanted an order, I gave you one.”

Fuck.

You were completely staggered by the whiplash. Your distended heart thumped so vigorously in your chest you thought it might crack a rib.

There was a conviction within you, somewhere, to question him. To question if he was being serious, to ask him if this was some kind of sick joke to make you regret your decision.

And while you believed that was the case, that it was a derisive retribution, a game to get back at you – there was a stronger urge to play along. To meet his challenge, to execute his dare.

Meeting his indignant gaze with yours, you tucked your fingers under the hem that sat between your waist and hips, peeling it up your torso and stretching it over your shoulders, then past your head. Sweeping your loosened hair out of your face, you held the thin black fabric in the other hand before dropping it to the linoleum floor. You shivered a little in the cool air of the room, your stiffening nipples concealed by the cups of your rarely-worn grey marl brassiere – practical and unsexy.

But the look on his face was telling; he hadn’t truly expected you to comply.

That surprise waned quickly. His dark eyes tried their best to hold your stare, but they failed him – raking over your torso, jaw clenching as his gaze stuck brazenly to your exposed cleavage.

Trembling with adrenaline, you waited for him to say something. Anything.

You expected dispute; you anticipated he’d say, I wasn’t serious. And that would be a satisfying reaction – your effort to make him uncomfortable would prove a success, a victory, you’d have the last figurative word.

He wiped down his face with an open hand, rubbing his beard anxiously as he wrestled with what to say, how to react – maybe some attempt to restrain himself. He leaned against the surface of the desk, resting his weight on his knuckles.

Through gritted teeth, he uttered his next command.

“Bra.”

You swallowed timorously.

It was surreal, really, you worried you were hallucinating – you imagined that in reality he was shouting at you to stop, but you were unable to hear him over your carnal psychosis.

But it was too late now, to stop yourself. You were driven to finish what you started. Changing your mind now, pulling your shirt back over your head and running out the door – would leave you questioning whether any of it was real. You wouldn’t survive in that oblivion, between reality and dream, fact and fantasy.

You needed proof.

You reached behind your back, contorting your shoulders to allow your fingers to grip the clasp against your spine. Your breasts pillowed out of the top of the soft cups as you stretched the band to unhook it, before slipping the straps down your shoulders. It slid from your chest, down your arms, gently – it, too, fell to the floor; you dropped it on top of your abandoned t-shirt.

You drew in a quivering breath, the skin of your breasts tingling as the goosebumps elicited by their exposure trickled across their soft flesh.

He sucked in a heavy breath, deep and slow, rugged and rasping. He took a step, and you retracted slightly; but you watched like cautious prey, as he walked around from the far side of his desk, to the front of it. He leaned on the very edge of the surface, not quite sitting on it, as he insouciantly crossed one boot over the other. His lascivious eyes did not leave you, absorbing every feature, every curve, like he was admiring an artwork.

Despite the metre and a bit of distance from him, you felt the dense heat that hung in the air between the two of you, radiating from him like he was a fucking oven.

“Trousers.”

A brief conflict almost escaped you, but he quickly smothered it.

“Off.”

Whatever reluctance that lingered melted away, then, dripping off of you like a layer of sticky ice cream – by virtue of the unwavering sternness of his command. And that, you realised, was where your comfort lay; where there was no ambiguity, no remorse for a poorly made decision, no culpability for your actions. If you were following an order, the onus was on him.

So you followed it.

Your kittenish fingers went to the button of your grey cargo trousers, popping it undone, slyly pulling down the zip of your fly. You flayed back the open waistband, pushing them down your hips, struggling briefly to pull them past your ass; its recent plumpness made your pants a touch too small. The polyester fabric loudly shuffled in the distended silence as the trousers fell down your legs, into a puddle at your feet; you stepped out of them as though out of a pond.

By the time you looked up to meet his gaze once again, though, he had already charged at you; quickly taking the base of your head with large hands and pulling you towards him. He forced his eager lips against yours with a ferocity that left you breathless, such an aggression that your first primal instinct was to resist him with claws against his chest.

But you were quick to surrender to him, relishing in the taste of him, his tongue, his breath hot in your mouth, you sucked it deep into your chest. Your starving hands coiled up and around his neck, scratching at the tense muscles in his heaving back through the fabric of his uniform jersey; hooking into him in some feline effort to make sure he was real, to prevent his escape, to keep him from being stolen away.

His mouth wasn’t on yours for long, though, dragging wetly across your jaw to your neck, the crook of your shoulder; he chewed at your soft, fervid skin, teeth skimming and barely digging into the tendonous flesh. His vicious hands gave you no reprieve, clutching at any part of you that could force you closer, tighter against him – ensnaring the meat of your hips, your waist, kneading at your sensitive breast with the other.

He separated from you only briefly, though his possessive hands didn’t leave you. Crouching slightly, he hooked his arms behind your thighs, under your ass – deftly hoisting you upwards with no visible effort. You clutched the back of his neck, wrapping your legs around his hips to maintain your balance as he lifted you, turning on his heel and carting you towards the desk. He quickly used a free hand to sweep aside the papers, flinging them to the floor in a confetti; he put you down hastily, keeping you close, the cold surface of the varnished wood biting at your bare skin.

He gave you a transitory respite, carefully checking your face before he went any further; likely ensuring you weren’t crying this time, that he hadn’t crossed an unspoken boundary. Whatever look you gave him in return was outside of your control or perception – but it was an invitation, evidently.

He dove down to kiss you again, but fleetingly – his savage lips trailed down from yours, biting their way along your jaw, down your neck, across your collarbone. You leaned back slightly on the desk to allow his avid venture, his ravenous mouth biting and suckling wherever it landed; drowning momentarily in the softness of your breast, cupping it with his wide hand to push the pillowy flesh against his face.

That wasn’t his final destination, though. His mouth only brushed over your nipple, sloppily kissing down your tensing stomach as he lowered himself to one knee, clutching your waist with both hands on his journey downward to hold you still. You felt your heart in your throat, in utter disbelief; you could only suck down jagged breaths as his lips grazed against your lower belly, just above your hip, teasing the elastic hem of your underwear. He gingerly kissed your mound through the thin cotton, controlling hands holding your hips by the bone.

Too rapacious to taunt you for long, he tugged sharply at the hips of your panties, leaning back so he could pull them down your thighs, over your knees, off your ankles. Your foot rested gently on his collarbone as he paused in apparent admiration, your exposed, spread pussy mere inches from his face; his breath despite its heat was cold against your wet, feverish skin. You felt embarrassed at his close inspection, his unashamed reverence – but his murky gaze broke away from your intimacy, instead meeting your eye. He wore an expression of unassailable pride, though cloaked in an avaricious hunger; he stared at you cruelly from under his brow, daring you to deny him.

Hitching your legs over his arms so that they rested on his shoulders, he clutched the side of your thigh with his mammoth hand while he pushed his lips into the inside of your leg, high enough, close enough, to make you quiver in desperate anticipation.

Piercing eyes still locked on yours, peering up from your eager flesh, his husky voice murmured deeply into your skin.

“Is this what you wanted?”

He jibed, almost a growl, as though teasing you for your recent behaviour – scolding you for acting out instead of asking for it, causing a scene instead of using your words like a grown-up.

Another kiss, higher, closer, teeth grazing the supple meat of your inner thigh, coarse beard prickling against the burning skin of the edge of your cunt.

You couldn’t think of the right answer, if there were such a thing, to his question – your head was by turn empty and running a million miles a minute. Really, you didn’t even know the answer.

Was it what you wanted?  This entire time? Has it been what you wanted since the last time, in his barrack in Urzikstan? Since the gala? Or, even, since you met him?

Your answer left your wet throat before you had the sense to question it, or rationalise it.

“Yes.”

You breathed, a whisper, barely, almost a squeak. You weren’t certain that it was the truth, either – but it was what you wanted now, so it was honest in some sense.

With firm hands he adeptly tugged your hips so you perched precariously on the very edge of the desk, allowing him ease of access to you.

He cruelly denied you still, placing maliciously soft kisses against the slit of your pussy, torturing you with only a light pressure while you willed him to dive deeper. An ardent whimper fled your chest, quiet and pleading.

Whatever carnivore he was doing his level best to restrain escaped its prison at your sheepish sound; his monstrous hands dug deep into the flesh of your hips, maw lunging forward and pointed tongue parting your slick folds like he was searching for water. It dipped into you only briefly, a momentary taste of the dripping syrup he seemed to take pride in inducing from you – before he used it to glide up to your clit where it was nestled. With ravenous lips he suctioned it into his mouth, devouring you; dextrously chafing your sensitive bud with a flat tongue, maintaining a vacuum that made a dangerously loud and needy moan escape your throat.

He only hastened his torment in response, drinking you like he might die of thirst, breathing heavily through his nose so as not to allow you even a second of relief from the unbearable suction. Feverish claws clasped at the top of his head, running through his short hair and scratching at his scalp, holding his head where you wanted it. Your head hung back off your shoulders, briefly staring at the panelled ceiling before your eyes unwittingly fluttered shut, doing your best to swallow the choked cries that threatened to make the whole army base aware of your depravity.

Your constricting legs inadvertently tried to push him away, your body overwhelmed and desperate for a break from his ruthless consumption, almost too oversensitive to be pleasurable – but not quite. He restrained you tightly, though, not allowing you to flee from him for even a second; his firm hands controlled your hips with an alarming strength, head moving with you as though predicting the direction of your attempts at escape, mouth not separating from you once.

One hand retreated from your side, but to quickly prevent your bucking his constraining arm slithered over your lower stomach, clutching the far hip and using his elbow to hold you down to the desk. His free thumb, then, crept to your cunt under his chin. Despite how slick your skin was, drenched in both your clear sap and his saliva; the clenching muscles of your vagina were squeezed so tightly he had to push his thumb into you with effort, almost popping as it broke past your resistant entrance.

That seemed to weaken his resolve, the tightness of your muscles clamping around him rhythmically, in tune with the burgeoning, forcible orgasm that threatened to crash over you like a tidal wave; he released a ragged, resigned exhalation into your skin. You felt yourself beginning to drown in it, that swirling ocean. The floor, the desk, the room sunk in it, slipping away from you as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, only him keeping you afloat.

But he stopped, then, thumb begrudgingly slipping out from inside you, suddenly releasing his merciless suction and separating his wet mouth from your yearning pussy. You groaned in dispute, cut short, a sharp rush of air escaping your overwrought lungs.

“Not yet.” He grunted hoarsely, barely audible.

Brows twisted in pleading frustration, you looked down at him, meeting his frightening glare as he pushed himself to stand; beard glistening with the wetness of you, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What?” You whined breathily, panting as you watched him tower upright, looming over you in licentious authority.

“I’m not having you come yet.”

His injunction was authoritarian, uttered darkly, his rumbling voice so hoarse it sounded animalistic; a growl, a threat. He stood between your legs, still, you watched in quiet, anticipating obedience as his livid hands tore at his belt. Ferociously unbuckling it, as though it would fight against him – he tugged open the button of his trousers, ripping down the fly and unsheathing his rigid cock from his straining boxers; menacing, it dropped heavy out of the elastic waistband, the solid shaft landing against your ravening cunt with a hard, wet slap.

You winced slightly at the sore impact, and his humanity seemed to return to him momentarily; softening face inches from yours, his attentive blue eyes scanned your features for reluctance.

“Tell me no.” He urged throatily, “tell me no, and I’ll stop.”

A shaky breath seeped through your lips, your delirious gaze flitting between his eyes, lashes fluttering as you processed his promise.

“I don’t want you to stop, Captain.” You uttered weakly, entreating.

His careful eyes darkened quickly at your bashful plea, watching your lips form the syllables of his rank like you were stroking him with it. His dominant hands returned to your hips, then, clutching at the bone and lifting your pelvis so it was angled right, just where he wanted it.

His clouded glare didn’t leave yours, his fingers dipping into your saturated pussy as though scooping the viscous fluid that dribbled from you; you watched, beguiled, as he rubbed your juices up the thick shaft of his cock, coating the head in it, briefly unable to stop himself from fucking his fist, huffing carnally, while he was lubricated by your watery come.

With a tug of your legs that were coiled around his hips, you grounded him, impatient; his sinister gaze met yours again, watching your wanton expression as he obliged you and dragged the soft head of his cock down your slit, the cruel pressure against your agitated clit making your body twitch. He restrained your spasm with his free hand your waist, keeping your pelvis still, as the tip of his length nestled between your lips, pressing against your clenching entrance.

Gripping himself by the stiff base, he pushed past your tight opening with his full weight; stretching it tautly around the girth of his cock as he stuffed you with it. You let out a pained squeak as it abruptly filled you, ramming against your cervix with a pressure that made you flinch.

The sharp soreness briefly frightened you – you had been deprived of the sensation of that angry thickness inside of you, ever since…

You didn’t let your mind go back there, not for a second; your eyelids shot open, desperate gaze sticking hurriedly to your Captain, his riled and yet gentle expression bringing you back to him, rugged but soft hands holding your hips as he impaled you on the length of him. You clutched the fabric of his jersey tight over his chest, gripping his arms, his shoulders; keeping him real, corporeal, there with you. He let out a strained grunt as he pulled you down onto him, as deep as your insides would allow him to go, to the hilt; he held you there, forcing you to squirm.

Your delicate hands held his warm neck, leaning forward as you pulled his head down to kiss him; mouth open and tongue desperate to taste him again, to feel his hot breath against your face, the soft scratch of his beard on your chin. He returned your kiss, tender, compassionate – a stark juxtaposition to his ruthless incursion; rutting into you powerfully but methodically, slow but hard, deep enough to be painful.

But the hurt was translated by your aroused nerves into a bestial pleasure, using your goading legs to pull him further into you, you felt his cock push against your aching organs. It raked against your sodden walls on its way out, a slight sting as it dragged along your taut opening – before filled you again, abrupt, sharp; it forced a sweet cry from your fevered chest into his mouth. He grinned arrogantly against your lips, a ragged, breathy chuckle taunted you in response.

You separated from him, then, lying back over the surface of the desk; you arched your back, angling your hips so that his length beat your walls more viciously, wrapping your legs around his waist and clutching at the edge of the desk above your head with straining claws. Exposed to him now, on display, his thrusting only increased in vehemence, speed, depth; carnivorous hands digging into the meat of your hips as if you might slip away from him, forcing you down on him with each rut.  

Eager for release, your fingers glided down your stomach, navigating diffidently to your clit; you drew wet circles over it, letting out a soft whine as you pleasured yourself with the rhythm of his accelerating thrusts.

“Shit.”

He groaned huskily at the sight of you fucking yourself on his cock, his face twisted into an exasperated rapture, forcing himself to slow down slightly so as not to push himself over the edge too quickly.        

He stopped you, hastily; a stern hand tightly ensnaring your wrist and tearing your fingers from you. He pulled your arm upward, pinning it firmly to the wooden surface underneath you, holding your hand by your head. He leaned over you, then, making you watch as he held his free hand to his lips, spitting lecherously into his fingertips; they found your clit without needing to look, stroking the oversensitive spot inexorably, the pressure cruel and unrelenting. His head hung from his shoulders, mouth landing against the hot skin of your shoulder, placing gentle kisses along your collarbone as he ruined you.

The union of the two sensations – his cock, hard as stone, fucking into your stomach, and merciless fingertips tormenting your swollen clit; it surged within you, frayed nerves electrocuting you as your inevitable orgasm loomed, its delay rendering it incensed and sorely overpowering.

He must have felt the muscles of your walls clamping down on the length of him as it dawned on you, the change in the music of your sounds; aching whines growing louder, crawling from your labouring throat.

“You gonna come on me, are ya? Beautiful thing?”

He growled into your skin, only increasing the severity of his torture, relentless in his goal to finish you.

Your delirious tongue was unable to form a word in response, only releasing a high-pitched and arduous cry as your unforgiving orgasm collided with you, waves of carnal heat pulsing from the base of you, the muscles of your bullied pussy clenching tightly around his avid cock.

“That’s it.”

He grinned against your neck as he kissed you there, moving with you, allowing no escape.

“Good girl.”

With no apparent intention of slowing down to offer you a reprieve, he instead began speeding up, forcing you to squirm and shriek in dispute at the overstimulation. Your desperate, animal fingers clawed at his wrist, struggling to tear his stiff hand away from your cunt – but he relented, eventually, falling victim to his own pleasure as he shifted his focus to fucking you harder, deeper.

He scooped an arm under your back, lifting you just slightly from the surface of the desk as he hovered over you; the other hand holding the bone of your hip tightly, keeping it steady while he rammed you. You listened in rapture to his grunts of ecstasy, gentle hands clutching the back of his neck, nails grazing his hot skin as you coaxed him to chase his own release.

You pressed soft lips into his bearded cheek, comforting, reassuring him; and that seemed to do the trick, bringing him too close.

“Fuck.”

He groaned hoarsely in begrudging pleasure as he paused, for just a hesitant second, before reluctantly tugging his cock out of you and slamming the wet shaft of it it against your mound.

You panted heavily, holding your forehead against his, relishing in the sensation of his hot come shooting over your stomach, painting you; it dribbled down your sides, down the creases of your hips, dangerously close to your cunt. He winced against you, twitching involuntarily as he pushed the last of his semen out of the head, drooling onto your febrile skin.

You kissed him, again; he tenderly pressed his lips against yours in return as he took the moment to catch his breath. His mouth left yours after a moment and landed in the crook of your neck, his heaving body hung over you, propped up by his elbows on the desk under you. You felt him kiss under your ear, his warm breath and prickling beard sending a shiver down the nape of your neck.

You wanted to say something, anything – but there were no words you could think of to offer him. Gratitude? An apology? Your brain was fried, fucked into pliable mush.

Instead you lay in silence, embracing him for as long as it would last, doing your best not to consider the consequences that lay ahead of you as a result of such an unbelievably foolish lapse in judgement.

He’d been your captain for only a few minutes, and you had fucked him already.

And yet you wished the moment could last infinitely; savouring his gentle lips as they planted drowsy kisses on your neck, tired hands caressing your waist in what felt like wordless praise, a silent gratitude.

Despite the reservations, the guilt, the doubts that stormed around you, deafening; your thoughts encircled only one thing, one source of comfort.

He was your Captain again.

[lemotmo]

Sweet Jesus it's high-key hilarious laid out like this.

Q. But like it can go either way, you get that right? They have set it up to where you can decide it's about Tommy or Eddie depending on which way you want it to go. They've written it to be viewed as about Eddie or Tommy. We're not making that up???

A. My brother in Christ you are 100% making that up. That is unequivocally, one hundred percent not what the story is doing. The fact that I have to do this is shameful and proof of utter, willful ignorance, but you asked for it so here it is:

*Tommy comes in for the cruise ship rescue. We found out that he is former military, likes basketball, MMA, and Muay Thai. All things Buck VERBALIZES to the audience are things that he has in common with Eddie. MEANING THEY WERE CHARACTERISTICS GIVEN TO HIM TO SPECIFICALLY HAVE THEM IN COMMON WITH EDDIE.

*Buck acts like a lunatic for the entirety of 7x4 then inexplicably decides it must be about Tommy, despite the episode showing that it was very much about Eddie, so much so that Tommy himself is confused when Buck says he was trying to get his attention.

*They go out, Buck is understandably nervous, and then run into Eddie. Buck panics because he's not ready or sure what to tell Eddie yet. Tommy gets annoyed because Buck won't say they're on a date, he makes a closet joke, basically trying to force Buck to out himself in that moment, when Buck doesn't do it, Tommy gets upset and leaves him stranded at the restaurant.

*Buck apologizes to him, and invites him to Chim's bachelor party and wedding. For plot reasons Tommy accepts.

* Buck and Eddie decide on 80's theme for the party and decide to coordinate their outfits and go as Crockett and Tubbs. Tommy doesn't dress up, he offers up the fact that he is on call as his reason for not dressing up. He then leaves to go fight a fire. Leaving Buck and Eddie to spend the rest of the episode partying together. The show later releases a deleted scene of Eddie telling Christopher how he met his mother and that story proves to be a parallel to what we saw of Buck and Eddie during the bachelor party.

* Tommy shows up at the hospital where he and Buck kiss for the 2nd time. Eddie's reaction to the kiss, along with Buck's parents, are the reactions the show chooses to focus on.

*Tommy then disappears until the season finale. We see them have a dinner date at the end of the episode where Bobby nearly died, and Buck spent the entirety of it with Eddie dealing with Christopher and Bobby. Buck attempts to start a conversation about how he's feeling. Tommy turns it into a daddy sex joke.

*Tommy shows up again in 8x1, but only for one scene between him, Buck and Eddie where Eddie is trying to throw a birthday party for Christopher over zoom. He then disappears until episode 8x5

*In between that we see Buck struggling with Gerard as his captain. We get a shot of Eddie's voice being the voice he hears when he's trying to calm himself down.

*In episode 8x5 we see Buck buy what he believes is a prop skeleton but turns out to be a real skeleton. We get a lube joke between Buck and Eddie before Buck slips on pumpkin guts and separates his shoulder. Eddie rides to the hospital with him and stays with him, even talking to the doctor while Tommy hovers in the hallway. Once Tommy comes into the room, Eddie finishes a couple of Buck's sentences while he's telling the story to Tommy. Buck gets released from the hospital and goes home with Tommy. He wakes up with boils on his face, believing that the skeleton has cursed him, it was really an allergic reaction to the ibuprofen that Tommy gave him, because Tommy didn't know Buck was allergic. One of them calls Eddie to come over and tend to Buck's boils and despite the fact that Eddie and Tommy are both roughly saying the same thing Eddie is the one they show Buck reacting to and listening too.

*In 8x6 we see them have their 6 month anniversary date. The table next to them is having a divorce party, something the show makes a point of making the audience aware of. Tommy gives Buck basketball tickets, Buck has already told the audience he hates basketball. Tommy makes a joke about Buck taking Eddie to the game if he wants to. Buck didn't get Tommy a present at all. Buck realizes that his ex Abby is Tommy's ex Abby as well.

* Buck goes to talk to Maddie and Josh to get some advice. Josh gives a speech about how to know if he's in love or not, he says lots of things but one of the things Josh mentions is that Buck should honor the queer generation that came before him.

*Buck tells Tommy he is also Abby's ex and asks him to move in with him. He can't give any other reason other than what Josh said about honoring and respecting the queer generation that came before him. Tommy says no and breaks up with him by telling him that he knows how this ends and he's Buck's first, not his last.

*Buck goes directly to Eddie's house immediately following the breakup

*Buck is upset following the breakup and decides to start baking as a way to keep him preoccupied enough not to call Tommy. Buck finds out at the end of 8x8 that Eddie is looking at houses in El Paso

*8x9 opens with Buck and Eddie cleaning the locker room glass at the station and Eddie showing Buck a picture of the hose he put a down payment on in El Paso. Buck is upset by this news, but offers to help Eddie try and find a renter for his house. Buck sabotages all the showings to the point that Eddie tells him to leave. Before leaving Buck overhears Eddie telling the applicant that everything that matters to him is in Texas and Buck leaves upset. During a fire at an animal shelter Buck bonds with the beagle he rescues and shows up at the firehouse with him the next morning. Buck reveals to Bobby and the rest of the team Eddie's plans for moving, despite Eddie asking him not to. Buck tells Eddie that the dog is his new best friend and that unlike him the dog knows how to stay. Buck also reveals that he overheard what Eddie said about nothing L.A. mattering. Later we see Eddie accusing Buck of trying to force Eddie to choose between him and his son, something Buck absolutely did not do, but Eddie says it anyway, indicating that Eddie is the one who feels like he's being forced to choose. Then Buck reveals himself as the new renter for Eddie so he won't have to worry about anything and can move to El Paso and just worry about Christopher.

*8x10 deals with Maddie's kidnapping. We see Eddie driving Buck around and Buck has a mini spiral and tells Eddie that he is just moving back to Texas like it's nothing like it doesn't effect anybody else but it does. Eddie tells Buck that it's not nothing. The next time we see them is the goodbye scene at the uhaul. Both of them are awkward, and unsure of what to say or what to do. Eddie tells him that he knows this thing between them has been hard and they both could have handled it better. It is raining and soft music is playing over the scene. Buck says he baked chocolate chip protein cookies for the drive. They hug and the camera takes close ups of each of their faces. Both men are noticeably upset and struggling. Eddie looks back one more time before climbing into the truck and driving away.

*which brings us to 8x11. Buck can't sleep in Eddie's house and doesn't want to unpack because what he believes it means long term for Eddie and Christopher. Maddie tells him he needs to make new friends. He talks Ravi into going out drinking with him and talks about Eddie the entire time. Eddie sees Tommy and drags him over as a way to escape. Tommy asks Buck how he is and Buck tells him about Maddie and Eddie moving away. Tommy tells Buck he was unaware of this because Eddie basically stopped talking to him after they broke up. Camera pans to Buck smiling upon learning that. After learning that Eddie has moved away Tommy starts to flirt and Buck invites him back to his place. We see them arriving at the house and kissing and Tommy realizing that it's Eddie's house. Cut to the next morning, Buck wakes up alone and finds Tommy making breakfast in the kitchen. Buck tells Tommy that last night was fun but he understands that it changes nothing. Tommy tells him that it can change something and asks what he's doing on Saturday. Buck is confused and asks him why he doesn't believe Buck will break his heart anymore. Tommy tells him he is less worried now that his competition has moved away. Buck realizes he's talking about Eddie and tells him that Eddie is straight, Tommy openly scoffs at this statement which makes Buck even more upset. Buck then says he doesn't have to sleep with everyone he has feelings for and doesn't have feelings for everyone he sleeps with. Tommy leaves and we see Buck telling Maddie, TELLING MADDIE THAT HE USED TOMMY AS A WAY TO DISTRACT HIMSELF FROM MISSING EDDIE. He asks if he should call and apologize and Maddie tells him to learn to be alone. Tim confirms in an interview that Buck did not call Tommy.

That's it, anon. This is Tommy's entire arc on the show. Where, at any place is anything whatsoever that indicates any of this has anything at all to do with Tommy? Where is it? It doesn't exist. They had 31 scenes together and only 6 of those scenes didn't directly include Eddie or involve Eddie in some other way. Read that again. They had 6 total scenes that weren't about Eddie or didn't involve Eddie. But you expect me to believe that it's really about Tommy because Twitter says it is. Give me a fucking break. It could not be more cut and dry.

Thank you Nonny!

Yeah, we've been saying this for ages now. None of this was about Tommy, it was always Eddie. So yeah... nothing to add here. I think Ali was very clear and precise in her answer. 😋

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[hello-gloomy]

I know you are currently writing a fanfic of Stanley Snyder and will do Xeno next so I won't rush you or anything you could just put this aside and come back to it later.

Stanley Snyder x reader

Where reader is senku's bio older sister of a few years and has some mental issues due to seeing their parents die in front of them soon after senku was born and she didn't have much of an emotional relationship with senku but deep down she really loves him very much. Reader leaves Japan when senku is in middle school to pursue her ballet career in America where she was petrified. She woke up because she was somehow conscious during the 3400 years. She was found and taken to xeno and she tries to prove herself useful to them so not to get killed and somewhere along the way she has taken Stanley's interest. And the rest is up to you 😅. But also add the reunion of the two siblings where reader cries that senku isn't a stone and senku realizing he missed his sister(angst/comfort)

Add smut if you want that's all up to you🫰

-thanksssss🫶🫶

AHGSSGSHHSHSHS, how elegant, my dear anon!

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Never Again

Stanley Snyder x Fem!Reader

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Description: Finding Senku was the one thing that kept you awake while being trapped in stone. When finally awoken, you expect to see your younger sibling, but to your surprise, you find a much rougher situation entirely.

Warnings: Violence, loss of family, PTSD, anxiety, inadequate descriptions of ballet, smut, Dubocon, spanking, threats of violence against the reader, slight BDSM mild Dom/Sub dynamics, power imbalance, kinda toxic relationship ngl. Probably OOC. SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA AND SEASON 4!!

A/N: I'm so proud to be writing my first ask truly; I just wanna thank everyone for bringing me here today(lmao), but in all seriousness, I hope u enjoy! (later note: sorry this took so long; I was debating on the spicy stuff and the ending)

Words: 2,662

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After the accident with your parents, you hated ships; even looking at one made you sick, and the fact that they got on for someone else's sake and not even for yours or your brothers hurt you even more. So, when Byakuya came along, he was happy to take you and Senku in. It made you wary of his kindness, how he could leave for something else, thinking about you and Senku last, leaving you alone in the world again.

He signed you up for dancing lessons while encouraging Senku with his interest in science. 'To help with the anxiety,' he said with a smile; it made you scowl. But after the first few, it became like walking to you, like breathing a field of flowers, every step calming you, the music flowing into a dance with you.

You won a scholarship to America with your dances when your brother and adoptive father found out; the latter excitedly encouraged you to go on the trip; you told him to drop the matter entirely as you weren't leaving Senku by himself. (Or Byakuya, but you would say that to him.)

"Don't wait up for me, " he told you one morning, with a passionate glaze over his eyes. He gave you a tight side hug before walking off.

When you woke up, the stone encasing you crumbling off, you inhaled profoundly and quickly looked around yourself. A blanket was put around you, and some clothes and shoes were dropped before you. You look up to see two men in front of you, one with blonde hair and the other with white. The blonde was currently smoking.

"Looks like a few thousand years past." You told them tersely, shuffling the blanket and putting on the clothes while still keeping yourself covered. The one smoking let out a quiet snerk while the platinum let his lips twitch at your comment.

"You catch on fast; that will be useful in our current situation." He let his metal claws click together behind his back. You dropped the blanket after putting on your clothes, moving to put on your shoes next. You held eye contact with them, showing them you were still listening. He gave you a rundown on the current state of society and the earth, thinking logically. It seemed like you didn't have much of a choice but to help them or risk being killed or worse.

"Any special skills to speak of?" Stanley, the blonde, asks, butting in on the doctor's speech. You rise to the tip of one foot before lifting your foot close to your head, then drop it down to do a few pirouettes, ending the last spin with your left foot pointed outwards and with a bow. Stanley gives a low whistle, and the doctor claps gently at your display.

"I do ballet, know basic hand-to-hand combat and martial arts." You list off, hoping that will buy you a bit of gain for at least manual labor or some sick entertainment for the two of them.

"She can go to your team, Stan." Dr. Xeno says with a wave of his clawed hand while walking away, leaving the two of you alone. He stomps out the last of his cigarette before motioning you to follow him; you follow behind him with a foot of distance between the two of you as you walk, getting a better look at him and his apparel while you have the opportunity: a tight black catsuit, spiked boots, a gun holster. It's nice to know America still loves their gun rights.

"You can come closer, " he says, eyeing you over his shoulder. You try not to flinch at his sudden jibe, walking up side to side with him now, avoiding his gaze.

"I won't bite. Not unless you want me to, that is." He tells you with a smirk, you give him a look, and he chuckles at that. Stanley shows you around the entirety of the operations they have set up, introducing you to everyone and showing you where things are and how to find him or Dr. Xeno. He shows you where you sleep and lets you settle in. The next few weeks, you spend training with Stanley and people trying to befriend you, learning how to use a firearm properly, flying a plane, and going out on scouting missions. And before you know it, a year and a half passes by, and you are attached at the hip to Stanley.

"Could you dance for me?" he asks you one night while the two clean firearms together, relaxing uniquely for two of you. You scrunch up your face while looking at him, and he raises one of his eyebrows.

"It's too cramped, " you say bluntly. He puts down the weapon he was cleaning, grabs yours, and puts it back, holding your hand and taking you outside. Walking with each other, he leads the two of you to a clearing you recognize, which gives you another dirty look; he gives a little shrug and let's go to move and sit down on a rock, letting the grassy night be your stage. You walk out to the open area, trying to think of another excuse to give.

"There's no music."

"Want me to sing for you?" He teases. You roll your eyes before thinking of a simple song and dance you remember to show him. Twisting and jumping, spinning and bowing your legs, as you hum to yourself a part of Swan Lake. Opening your eyes as you come to an end, you see a sparkle in Stan's eyes as he watches you, and finally, you come to an end, and you give him a curtsy while smiling at his interest. He claps as he walks over to you, and you reward him with a slightly bigger grin. He stops before you, and it feels like the air stills between you; he raises his hand to your face before you get interrupted.

"Stanley, I need you and Y/N to go scouting." Stanley sighs as he moves to respond to Xeno's demands. You walk ahead of him and head back to weapon storage to gear up.

The small group of what looked like teenagers stopped to investigate the ground, picking corn kernels. They had what looked like an armored car and a motorboat with them; it looked like something Senku would have built if he had been here.

"Want the first hunt?" Stanley's voice crackles in your ear; given the go-ahead, you attack first. You hit the tallest teen first, swiping him off his feet; the boy in yellow starts firing his arrows while the girl with greenhorns swipes at you; you sweep your leg across and launch her into a tree nearby, making her cry out, the girl in blue lunges at you and the previous tall teen gets up to attack you. Seeing you surrounded, he fires off the machine gun at the group, knowing that you dodge just fine.

"Everyone back to the boat." The voice that yelled that out made you freeze and look up to see where it was. Hoping it was just your head, the white and green hair you saw made your heart seize in your chest. You felt dizzy and wobbled a bit while trying to catch your balance. In your frozen state, a bullet whizzed by and got a little of your arm; you let out a hiss before jumping back into the trees for cover. The group took off, and you and Stanley regrouped.

"You alright?" He asked while he fired up the plane. You gave him a nod, and he spared a glance at you.

"Stay here just in case." You wanted to argue with him, but his hard stare made you drop it; you gave a sad 'Yes, sir' before he took off after them. You fix your arm before hopping along the trees, following his flight path. You lose sight of him momentarily, and in that short moment, you see his plane heading downwards into the forest, hearing a deafening crash and a scatter of birds and smoke. By the time you make it to the crash site, the teen has already beat you to it. You go up a bit higher in the trees and hear a laugh that catches your throat. It was him, Senku, and of course, he was laughing over his victory, and you let out a soft chuckle at his excitement. It makes your heart ache and scream. Seeing him surrounded by so many friends and still finding happiness is such a tense situation.

"Fall back for now." His voice fills your ears, reminding you of whose side you're on. You meet up with him later and see he acquired one of your brother's friends. The boy, Gen, as you've come to find out, makes a face at you before returning to neutrality. They finish questioning and showing him around, and you finally take the chance to ask him about your sibling.

"How is he?" These are the first words out of your mouth to him when you are alone.

"How old is he now?" He tells you to slow down and answer all your questions when he tells you that Senku is now twenty and doing well and about all his progress in Japan. You let out a long-winded sigh before hugging the magician, squeezing him tightly. He squeaks in surprise before returning it.

"Thank you. Thank you for taking care of my baby brother." You finish your conversation with Gen before leading him back to everyone else and sneaking off when you are sure no one will follow you. You leap through the trees and make your way to where Senku and his ship are; not wanting to cause panic amongst the others in his group, you find the right moment to pull him off to the side where he'll be alone for you to talk to him. He panics before he sees your face and freezes at the sight of you; his eyes are widened and sparkle at your face. You cup the side of his face and look over him; he does look older, more mature, like a true leader. You give him a small smile before flicking him in the head.

"For someone so smart, I think you would plan better for when you're attacked." He chuckles and hits you lightly in the arm before tightly embracing you.

"I missed hearing you." He mumbles into your suit; you hold him tightly, silently communicating that you feel the same. You cut the hug short and inform him that his friend is okay and what Dr. Xeno's plan for him is. You feel slightly bad for betraying them, but you would always put your brother first. You give a bit further of a run down on things inside the American colony before telling him you must leave before they start looking for you.

"Where are you? Xe wants us to go scouting." Your heart jumps to your throat; you tell Senku one last goodbye before leaving the ship and heading out into the woods.

"I'm just stalking where the kids are to get a count of them." You lie, hoping that he won't read too deep into it. He lets out a hum in response before the line goes dead. You leap among the trees again before something heavy crashes into your back, giving you a harsh descent into the forest floor; you let out a cry from the pain before getting abruptly cut off by the gloved hand around your throat. It's Stanley, and he looks pissed; he squeezes your throat, and you claw at his hands in response.

"Fraternizing with the enemy, are we?" He grits out with a quiet rage; he releases your throat before moving to trap your upper body under his legs; you cough at the sudden rush of air to your lungs and flail your legs a bit.

"No matter. I'll gladly remind you of which side you're on." He informs you darkly; you stutter out apologies while he hushes you. He rubs one hand along your chest while the other holds your face. You close your eyes while still kicking your legs, turning your face away; he strikes you across the cheek, and that makes your eyes snap open. He forcefully unzips your suit and moves your hand along your bra before he rips the fabric off and slaps your chest. You cry, getting a sick sense of enjoyment from his harsh slaps. He hits you a few more times while he holds your face roughly while kissing you. Asking if you like it when he hits you, the rest of your dignity leaves you, and you tell him yes while reciprocating his kisses. He hauls you off the forest floor into his lap, ripping off the rest of your top and moving on to your shorts.

"Keep looking at me." He commands you, and you obey. He grasps and ties your hands before moving you onto all fours. He rakes his hands down your back, ultimately reaching your ass and slapping it harshly. You whine at the abuse, and he hits you a few more times while groaning to himself at your noises.

"Who do you belong to?" He questions.

"You." You mumble to him pitifully, face pressed against the ground, exposed to the cold air. He slaps your backside again before telling you to repeat yourself.

"Good girl." You whimper at his praise and hear his zipper moving and the sound of a metal belt buckle. The warmth between his legs presses against your exposed sex, and you moan out to him; he leans over your back, one arm pressed against the ground beside your head, the other on your hip as he guides himself into you slowly. When he's fully sheathed, he hardly gives you any time to adjust before fucking you slow and harshly. You simper at his treatment, and he mouths at your ear, grunting quietly to you.

"Doing so good." He tells you, and you respond with a soft 'yes.' He picks up the pace, and your volume increases; you clench around him, and he moves the hand on your hip to between your legs to rub at your clit. You give him a loud wail at his rough circles with his fingers.

"Until we deal with that group properly, you will not be out of my sight." He grits out and grabs a fist full of your hair, making you look at him; slowing his thrusts, you keen out a yes to him, hoping that will make him pick up his pace again; you were so close.

"Yes, what?" He commands.

"Yes, sir!" you shout; he gives you what you so desperately, picking up his pace again. You jerk your head back against his shoulder and finish, him falling not too far behind. He rides out the last waves of pleasure before stopping. He shifts into a sitting position with you on his lap, he pulls out, and some of him drips out from between your legs. He continues to kiss you for a bit before speaking again.

"Do something like that again, and I'll make sure you won't dance for a month." He whispers in your ear cruelly; you only nod, accepting the situation, having lost the motivation to fight. He holds you closely while cleaning you up, whispering praises into your ear and petting your hair. Maybe it was a good thing you ended up on this side of the battle, and you could even convince Stanley to have mercy on your brother. He covers you up and fixes himself after removing your restraints and carries you back to the colony. Safe and subdued in his arms, you pass out from the exhaustion of the situation; in your last conscious thoughts, you can only hope for the safety of your brother.

[sanjisleggy]

it's a date (dracule mihawk x reader)

summary: how Dracule Mihawk behaves around you–the person he has feelings for who also (unfortunately for him) happens to be on Shanks’ crew

a/n: based on a super cute quest by 🪐 anon! :D a short and sweet one that’s purely yearning and fluff! hope you enjoy :>

contents: pre-relationship (obv :P), fluff, simp!Mihawk, yearning

wc. ~800

wanna be on my taglist?

first of all, it will not show on his face. ever. years of steeling himself to face any life-threatening obstacle has made it easy for the swordsman to hide his feelings under a facade of his typical cold  indifference… at least that's what he thinks 

meanwhile Shanks is over here like

bc he clocks it even before Mihawk himself realises he harbours feelings for you. Shanks could tell from the way his old friend would linger behind you at all times, eyes darting towards any sign of danger; how the ends of his lips quirked upward ever so slightly every time you speak to him and how intently he listens even if the topic is obviously not something the swordsman is interested in. your captain knows had it been anyone else (including him!) trying to make conversation about such mundane things, Mihawk would’ve long walked away

no one on the crew questions how often the Warlord seems to be tagging along, everyone just assumes he has his own business to take care of and hitching a ride on the Red Force just happens to be the most efficient way

you’re ecstatic that he’s coming aboard more frequently, however, and are not afraid to show it, often dragging him around the ship to show him your favourite spots. your shamelessness makes your fellow crewmates fear for your life but after a while even they get used to the sight of you pulling around the Greatest Swordsman in the World like a mother cat with her kitten. they dare not assume anything about the man but behind closed doors, some do gossip about how strange it is he’d allow you to do such a thing with no repercussions

Mihawk believes he fell for you after one particular interaction in which you forwent taking part in some festivities in favour of sitting beside him a distance away from the party

“shouldn’t you be dancing with the locals or something?” he’d commented rather snarkily, assuming you perhaps had some ulterior motives for staying by his side.

“i just want some peace and quiet tonight.” you shrugged. “it’s nice sitting with you in silence,” you added with a smile and for the first time in a long time Mihawk felt blood rush to his face. “but i can leave if i’m bothering you.”

“no,” he answered before he could even fully process your offer. “you may stay.”

your smile grew wider and some foreign feeling gripped at his heart.

it’s been a while since that night and he’s long since accepted that that feeling was some kind of infatuation; or at least, that’s what it started out as. day after day he feels his heart yearning for you; at first the feeling was simply small and nagging but it’s long since grown into something akin to desperation, like how one’s lungs would yearn for air after holding their breath for far too long

your voice is the sweetest sound Mihawk’s ever heard and on days he isn’t aboard your crew’s ship, he wishes to hear it more than anything. you could talk to him about snail anatomy and his need would be more than satiated

your touch burns his skin but it hurts more when you let go. so often you grab him by the wrist to pull him around, the contact itself enough to send his poor heart racing. the simple action flusters him so much he always wishes for you to let go before his facade breaks but when you finally do, arriving at where you wanted to bring him, he wants nothing more than for you to hold his hand again

Mihawk feels like a child. actually, scratch that, even as a child he’d never felt this way around anyone before. always laser-focused on his swordsmanship, he never saw the need to seek out companions in general. he’d keep the rare ones he stumbled across and liked well enough but never actively looked. even meeting you was purely a coincidence; had you not joined his old friend’s crew, he’s sure you never would have met 

he’s thankful that you did, though

“would you care to join me for dinner tonight?” the swordsman asks from across the ship’s library where the two of you had been browsing books in silence for a while now.

“dinner?” you respond rather lamely, surprised by the sudden invitation. he smiles to himself but you aren’t able to catch it from so far away. he, however, more than easily notices your flustered expression. “just us two?”

“yes.”

“... is it…” you look away from his direction and kick at the floor at some non-existent rocks, “... a date? like a… romantic date?”

your sudden shy demeanour is so endearing to the man he feels what can only be described as ‘cuteness aggression’ as he resists the urge to close the wide gap in between the two of you.

“only if you want it to be,” Mihawk replies rather smoothly, a stark contrast to his anxiety-ridden heart that’s currently pounding so hard in his chest it feels like it's about to explode. at his answer, your eyes meet his and you smile so sweetly it nearly knocks him off his feet.

“it’s a date then.”

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui @paraparakiss @krooschl @teewon @olliesoxenfree @misstraffy @riftmage27 @aletch @somatchajade @kitsunechan707 @thesmolestsage @lunaizhere @saint-atlas @goldenpanda16 @Jordan03400 @rebeccawinters @glorywielder101 @slytherinambitious @the0twst0shrimp0mc

[kookieskookiejar]

Star Wars AU

Dark Lord Jungkook x Rebellion Rookie Jedi Reader

Synopsis:

When you're captured by The New Order, you were sure the end of your life would come sooner than later, and being a rebellion pandawan, you've accepted death long before it came knocking, and you knew it'd come any time, just not this soon. However, what you didn't expect was to learn how to live under the man everyone fears.

Warnings under the cut!

Warnings: Mild bloodshed, mild slowburn, inaccurate depictions of the star wars universe (I'm sorry, I tried my best 😅), low-key tsundere Jungkook, age gap but both consenting adults, fluff, smut, face sitting, unprotected s*x, ch*king, body worship, Jungkook is a whipped mess ngl.

A/N: DON'T LIKE DON'T READ, SCROLL AND MOVE ON.

The cold cell was almost unbearable, you were obviously not dressed for this, thinking you’d be in Tatooine for a few days for a mission with your master along with the other fellow padawans, and now here you are, surrounded by four concrete walls, not even with your force could you break yourself out, you’re no Luke Skywalker, not even a window in this goddamn cell, not even a water bowl, the paper cup they had given you now drained next to you, your throat parched even though you haven’t spoken a word.

You kick the paper cup out of anger, this wasn’t supposed to happen, if only your master took your advice and ran for it, it was obvious that all of you were outnumbered, especially with him in the equation, you shudder, recalling the chill that ran down your spine, the scene was everyone’s worst nightmare, seeing that red lightsaber glow in the dark, his cape bellowing whilst a sandstorm brews behind because of the engine of his ship.

Lord Jungkook is his name, and he’s the current leader of The New Order, and he’s as ruthless as they come, everyone who used to know him describes him as a cold blooded killer, that he strives to prove himself to be even more cruel than Darth Vader, that he wanted to exceed the image of what was deemed the best, or the worst, depending on your political stance.

You muster up a weak depreciating chuckle, all your life, abandoned by your parents, sacrificing your childhood for the never ending training, and for what? Just to die this fucking soon in a worn down cell.

Your life has no meaning, all that pain and all those sleepless nights for nothing, no one’s going to remember you, you’ll just be another statistic, if you’re lucky enough that is, so many jedis are killed and no one finds out until months later, and that’s if they found the body or someone heard the news through word of mouth.

Before you could spiral any further down, someone unlocks your cell, three stormtroopers march in, heaving you up to your feet.

“Walk, and don’t try anything funny,” the clone demanded, his blaster pointed right at the juncture of your neck.

You don’t know where they’re taking you, every hallway looks the same, the same stark white hallway with lights that are too bright for your eyes, now you know why everyone wears a goddamn helmet here, you’re getting a migraine just from walking these few minutes.

When you finally reach a lift to the top floor, you were surprised by the dark interior, and that’s when you feel it, the same chilling feeling running down your spine, your hairs standing on its ends, immediately scanning your surroundings, looking for a way out.

“Don’t even think about it, walk,” the guard next to you says while the other requests for entrance with the other guard that’s sitting at the reception, the one next to you, stiffens up when those doors slid open.

There, a figure stands with their front facing the windows that show the beautiful red planet at a distance, the planet looking so much smaller from this height.

Jungkook is so much taller from a closer distance, you can see the back of his head, his hair gelled neatly, his helmet perched on the windowsill.

When the troopers leave, he finally turns to look at you, and you stop breathing briefly, not because of his force, but because of how drop dead gorgeous he is, his big piercing eyes stare right into your soul, his face screwed into an emotionless expression, but one thing that you can just tell from his face is that he’s not someone who’d let someone off lightly if he gets pissed off.

“You’re the one who tried to throw that boulder at my face, you’re more powerful than the other padawans” he states, rounding his desk with slow strides, his eyes calculating every micro expression that you refuse to show.

“Why? Hurt your pride?” you asked, sarcasm dripping in your tone, might as well piss him off and have his lightsaber plunged in your abdomen, it’s better to make this death quick.

“No, in fact, you piqued my interest, you’re not like the others, you’re smart, more powerful, I bet you’re not your master’s favourite, you intimidate him too much, I bet, I can offer you so much more,” Jungkook offers, leaning back onto his desk as he watches you with a quirk of his lips, his first expression of the night.

“No thanks, training under you would be even worse than that old man, just kill me like how you probably had the rest of them killed,” you say after a heave of dry laughter, that’s all you could muster up right now.

“It’d be a waste to just kill you, it’d be wasting too much potential, and I promise I’ll reward you generously, I’ll appreciate you more than that old geezer,” Jungkook banters, as if he could just tell from your face that you were treated unfairly under your master, now you know why he’s at the top, when he can’t kill his way up, he sweet talks his way through.

“How do I know you’re not lying?” you ask, pulling the thin jacket closer to your body for warmth, is this guy numb to feeling cold even?

“I won’t, you have my word… isn’t this arrangement better than death?” Jungkook says with a quirk of his brow.

“I thought someone like you would understand that death is better than many things in life in a time like this,” you say, looking into the dark space, gaze faraway, suddenly lost in thought, death feels very welcoming now, after what you've been through, and how there seems to be nothing waiting for you in the future.

You got so used to the feeling of Jungkook’s presence that you didn’t even realise he was next to you until he draped his jacket over your shoulders.

“I see myself in you, I won’t be like your old master, you might be wondering why I’d choose to do this… let’s just say, I don’t want you to end up in worse hands,” Jungkook says with an amusing glimmer in his eyes.

“Aren’t you the worst of them all?” you ask, turning to him, the movement has his scent wafting up your nostrils, and boy doesn’t he smell refreshing against all the desensitised clones and their hard suits.

“To others maybe, but I’m willing to be better towards you, it’s always only been a matter of choice for me,” Jungkook’s nowhere near a good person, but hearing him say this, when his hands are stained with endless bloodshed of his victims; it’s as if he could sense what you’re thinking because he speaks up before you could.

“I only kill those who don’t surrender…half of the time at least,” Jungkook adds after checking the stats at the back of his head, he doesn’t enjoy sugarcoating.

“Fine, but I’m blasting myself out of space with no oxygen if you piss me off,” you don’t why you’re agreeing to his offer when pretty much lost any desire to continue living on this life, it’s a stretch to hope that being on the dark side would be any better, but you’re willing to try, you have nothing to lose afterall.

Training with Jungkook is hard, but you don’t feel as burnt out, maybe it’s also the fact that Jungkook is a busy man, hence training never goes beyond 3 hours, it could be also the fact that you are very well fed here, no more fearing for a lack of supplies or eating beyond your limit when you’re no longer a pandawan under your master who was always on the run with a bunch of other pandawans where everything was stretched thin.

Today is no different, other than the fact that you’re blind folded, you’ve done this before, but you’re definitely no match against the Lord of the dark side of all people.

“You have to focus on the force, don’t be intimidated by my presence, just act like I’m R9F7,” you hear Jungkook say before you hear the robot himself speak up.

“Master, Miss almost took off my entire arm the last time I trained with her!” The robot speaks up in panic.

“Well I’m not you, am I? It’ll take a lot more to take off my arm,” Jungkook says before he deflects the metal stick in your hand, “Good job, you’re doing much better,” Jungkook praises before you manage to catch him again, having managed to pinpoint his presence, a brief sword fight breaks out between the two of you before Jungkook calls for a stop, his nimble fingers taking off your blindfold.

“Good job, you’re dismissed for the day, join me for dinner later, I’ll send R9F7 to fetch you,” Jungkook says before he retreats to the other side of the training room where the gym equipments are at, starting his own training of the day, he never fails to keep his body in its best condition.

“Dinner, with who?” you ask, usually you just eat with everyone else in the canteen where everyone else goes to, there’s not many places to go to on this ship anyways, but you’ve never seen Jungkook go down to have dinner with anyone else, you assume he eats in his own quarters or something.

“Just me, why? I’m not enough for you now, is that it?” Jungkook asks, obviously joking, but you can't read his expression, given that he's currently doing pull ups, his arms and back slightly distracting to you, just the slightest, you tell yourself.

“No! It’s just that, I thought you needed to show up to some event and I needed to show up or something,” you say, thanking R9F7 for fetching you a glass of water.

“I don’t have an audience with anyone yet, maybe in a month’s time, this is just a casual dinner,” Jungkook tells you while he starts doing his archer pull ups, and you’re so glad that damn robot had gone to refill your glass of water, that damn metal head cannot know you’re gawking at the way Jungkook’s arms flex against his weight, muscles rippling while your mouth waters.

“Y-yeah, okay, is there anything else?” you ask after snapping yourself out of that trance that’s stronger than any force.

“No, you’re free to leave if you want to,” Jungkook says, “but you have lessons with Captain Yoongi right?” Jungkook, being the busy man he is, sure is very clear with your schedule.

“Yeah,” you confirm, preparing to take your leave.

“Don’t crash into anymore asteroids, we have limited fighter ships on this ship, when we’re back on base, you can start making more mistakes,” Jungkook reminds you, obviously poking fun at you, if the tone wasn’t obvious enough, the slight upturn of his lips is a giveaway when he drops himself down to face you, you’re slightly taken aback, this is definitely not what most people see when they interact with Jungkook.

“If I’m making more mistakes when we’re back to base then I’m a failure,” you say with a huff after gathering your bearings, recalling all the moments your old master called you that.

“In all of my years of experience, I’ve met many failures, and you’re definitely not one, being bad at something is nature, being bad at fying a ship isn’t the end of the world, I could always get you a droid to do it, you just need to know how to get yourself out of an emergency if the droid isn’t available, it’s not a big deal,” Jungkook says before he finishes his set, the joking tone in his voice gone.

“Don’t worry, I like flying ships, hopefully I won’t need a droid to fly me everywhere, I’ll take my leave, or Captain Yoongi is gonna throw a fit again,” you say before retreating to the door.

“See you tonight,” you hear Jungkook say before you parrot it back to him.

You thought it’d be awkward to have dinner with Jungkook, but it’s going better than you ever imagined. Right now, you’re talking about your day with Captain Yoongi.

“He was like, ‘Kid, I’m not used to teaching someone who I’m not allowed to get mad at, and the fact that I won’t be able to even if I want to, I don’t lash out at women, don’t want my mother to pop in my head and give me a scolding’, then he started cursing at how the force works,” you retell before he breaks into yet another fit of laughter.

“Why did he say that even? What did you do to the old man?” Jungkook asks before he continues cutting into his steak, patiently waiting for you to continue your story.

“I said if you keep sighing you should just let a droid teach me,” you say before Jungkook doubles over, his piece of sliced steak forgotten, and at that moment, you think Jungkook has a pretty smile.

Today, you’re having a bad day, you couldn’t sleep well last night, your insomnia is always worse at the tail end of your menstrual cycle, so you’re naturally feeling really moody today, the sleep deprivation and changing hormones are getting to you.

Unfortunately for you, today you’re starting a new form of training, and it’s said to be hard, Jungkook described this as a form of virtual projection, crazy how a pair of goggles could teleport the two of you to a realistic battle.

You groan when the words ‘defeat’ flash across your sight.

“You need to focus, if you can’t get through this stimulation, how can you survive out there?” Jungkook asks, he doesn’t sound mad, he just sounds…realistic, for a lack of better word.

“Spar me,” Jungkook says before he gets into position.

“We can just do this without the goggles,” you suggest, but get into position anyways, sighing as you do so, this is going to be a long day.

“The wooden sticks are all the way in the gym, come on, just a little bit longer,” Jungkook says, but he could see the way your shoulders drop.

“Start,” Jungkook says before he advances onto you, he knows you’d never make the first move, your fighting style is always more on the defense.

The small stick that’s supposed to imitate your lightsaber hums when it clashes with Jungkook’s in the game, It’s like your body awakens, your brain going into fight mode when you dodge Jungkook’s second attack, planning on striking your leg after he identified that he can’t continue advancing with the first move, and you use the force to propel yourself backwards, your master never likes it when you do that, says it’s a sign of cowardice, but you’re not like the others, you strive for survival, which is why you didn’t think twice before you used the force to throw a rock at Jungkook, which he quickly sliced apart with his lightsaber, a look of bewilderment on his face.

“I had no idea you could do that in here, must be why we need to wear these gloves and weird socks on our legs,” Jungkook says before you see the mischief in his eyes, and that’s when you see it, his hands grasping the air in a similar movement to yours before you see a wrecked ship being hurled towards you.

You did a quick backflip, using the force to lift you in the air higher, landing back on the ground on your two feet.

“Now you’re just showing off,” Jungkook says before he advances onto you again, you deflect his attacks, the red of the imitation weapon glows dangerously close to your body, you would’ve been able to feel the heat of it if the two of you were using real lightsabers.

“Come on, this can’t be the best you can give me,” Jungkook taunts before he reels back and does a quick turn, catching you off guard, and immediately you panic, taking one hand off the stick to summon the force to push him back, sending Jungkook backwards, skidding on one knee to balance himself, before you feel yourself naturally wielding the lightsaber towards Jungkook, and right before you would’ve stabbed him, not that he’d get hurt in the simulation, you stopped, recalling that this is merely training, and that you’re not in actual danger, that Jungkook wouldn’t hurt you.

“You knocked the wind out of me, I had my guard down, but that was good,” Jungkook says as he gets up from his kneeled position.

“Sorry, I lost myself just now,” you said, your hand fidgeting with the stick.

“Don’t worry about it, being immersed in a fight is a good thing,” Jungkook says before he takes the goggles off, “let’s stop here for today, get some rest, you look like you need it,” Jungkook says before he disappears from your view, and you do the same, the virtual warzone disappearing right in front of your eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t sleep all that well last night, I’ll be better tomorrow,” you say as you pack up the equipment back to where it was.

“Don’t apologise, all of us have bad days, and if it’s too much, you could always let me know, get sufficient rest, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jungkook says with a comforting smile before he leaves, probably rushing off to a meeting with the council or something.

The first rumble of the spaceship had you jerking awake from the comfort of your bed, bounding out of bed with unsteady footsteps, you hold onto the side of your cabinet to look out your window, and you catch sight of x-wings and their lasers hitting the ship, immediately you start to sway at your feet.

You get dressed as quick as possible before running down to the control centre where you know Jungkook will probably be at by now.

No one questions when you step into the room, and you’ve never seen Jungkook this serious ever since the day you first met him, brows furrowed and his jaw clenched, the situation must not be looking too ideal, but still he senses you when you’re near him, turning away from the panels to look at you briefly.

“Not hurt?” he asks, Captain Yoongi casts a curious glance at his boss, but he remains silent.

“No, the protective shields on my side held up,” you answer, it’s nothing, standard procedure to check if the ship is alright, why did Yoongi find it weird?

Jungkook nods before he turns back to Yoongi, taking note of the situation and how their fighters are doing.

“It’s not ideal, there’s quite a large amount of those fuckers, half of our lasers are down, and the shields are at 40%,” Yoongi informs.

“Tell them to prepare my ship, I’ll handle them myself,” Jungkook says before he turns, preparing to descend down to the flight deck, his cape bellowing at his quick movement, you never liked capes, but you guess it’s tradition for the supreme leaders on the dark side.

“Wait! Alone?” you ask, a sliver of worry blooming in your chest, Jungkook always seemed invincible in your eyes when you only knew him through all the rumours, disregarding him as a person, that he might die, but now that you know him personally, he doesn’t seem as invincible anymore when he's no longer a myth in your head.

“Is that an issue?” Jungkook asks, confusion clear as day on his face, but his tone authoritative, you don’t dare to question him, it’s not your place to do so, especially not in front of everyone, Jungkook lets you get away with a lot of things, but this is probably not one of them.

“No, not an issue,” you say before letting go of his arm, and when he walked out, you could immediately see the tension in the people’s shoulders drop.

“He’s gonna be fine, kid, he’s got a reputation after all, he earned that through all the blood on his hands,” Yoongi reminds you before he gets back to his job, typical of your other mentor, he’s never the type to communicate more than what’s enough.

You stand idle as you watch the chaos unfold, Jungkook’s ship easily distinguishable by the additional purple streaks he had them installed when he didn’t like how his ship isn’t all that different from the others.

It swerves and dodges the x-wings’ lasers, zooming past the slower ones that got distracted by the other tie-fighters with a blast from his blasters attached to his ship, the red lasers dashing past, making contact with the jets before it blows up.

Every time he flies too fast and close to the exploding ships, you fear his ship is the one getting blown up.

The tension in your own shoulders drops slightly when you could see that the empire is winning with the dwindling numbers of ships.

“Fuck,” Yoongi curses, but before you could ask why, you see it, a large rebel mothership emerges from a lightspeed portal, surrounded by more x-wings.

“We need more people out there! Deploy the remaining teams!” Yoongi shouts into the intercom system.

“How are the stakes looking now, Cap?”you ask as you watch, then you feel it, the tremor of the bond, the one that you thought would never be established between you and Jungkook, the ‘force’ bond that establishes between a master and a padawan, you can feel how stress he is, his anger sizzling through the air that only you can feel in this room.

“Not very good, it’s going to need a lot of our firepower to take out the mothership,” Yoongi tells you before he barks more orders at the people around him, directing them on how to take down the mothership with the bigger blasters attached to the ship.

Suddenly, a staff let out a gasp of alarm.

“Captain, one of main blasters are jammed, we were supposed to use it to blow out the mothership, at least to deter it before we decide to hyperspace jump if needed,” the man said, but he immediately clams up when he sees how dark Yoongi’s face had gotten significantly darker.

“And there’s no way to fix it?” Yoongi asks, his fists balled at his sides.

“The droid that is supposed to fix that section of the ship got damaged by a stray laser from the battle going on nearby,” the woman next to the man explains, you can sense the overwhelming amount of fear emitting from the two of them, the rest of the staff’s emotions peaking as well.

“I can defend myself out there, tell me how to fix it,” you ask the man, the poor guy not knowing how to respond at first, expecting the pandawan of Lord Jungkook to be just as brutal as the man himself, but before the man could answer to your demands, Yoongi speaks out immediately.

“No, if anything happens to you, Jungkook would have someone’s head,” Yoongi explains, arms crossed against his chest, his eyes stern.

“Well, if we die, he would have no heads to behead so…” you remind Yoongi, rocking on your heels, you know he’d budge, Yoongi is a man of logic, and he always says he isn’t paid enough to be this stressed out about this job.

“Fine, don’t you dare die,” Yoongi warns you before he delves right into the logistics of what went wrong and how to fix it.

“I’m serious kid, don’t you dare fucking die, kid,” Yoongi warns one last time as he helps you with the oxygen mask and oxygen tank.

“Make sure you don’t damage the hose from your tank, there’s a spare tank under hatches where the ship is marked red if you run out, a red flash would keep appearing if there’s a leak or if the oxygen levels start getting low,” Yoongi reminds you one last time.

“I know I know, Cap, you’ve told me so many times I’ve lost count on how many times you repeated this,” you joke as you try to cope with your nerves.

“Okay, I’ll be watching you from here, don’t get out of sight,” was the last thing Yoongi said before you stepped into the escape hatch area before the doors opened and the sight of the on-going battle greets you without any barriers, goosebumps rise on your skin when you take the first step into zero gravity.

Immediately your feet were jerked to stick to the surface of the ship, the magnetic shoes work at least, you think to yourself.

Following Yoongi’s directions, you quickly located the main blaster that was stuck.

However, before you could remove the debris that had the blaster stuck underneath its hatch, you caught the attention of a x-wing that had just took down a few tie fighters, and immediately it fires at your direction, the shield is still up, but you’re not part of the ship, you’d get strike down instantly, and so you did what your fight or flight response told you to do, and that was to roll away before your hand shoots out to jerk the ship away, but sadly, due to its weight, the ship barely moved, it was onto you again once you were back on your two feet.

The x-wing was coming onto you quick, diving down to where you stood, and you let the force guide you, doing a flip to get out of its way before your hand quickly retrieves your lightsaber that was strapped to your space suit to strike the wing of the x-wing, a huge chunk of the wing was chopped off and the ship goes skidding behind you before it comes crashing against the exterior of the control room, the ship blows up but the mothership is unscathed due to the shield barrier surrounding the ship.

A tremor goes through your body when you see Jungkook’s personal ship in your peripheral vision, you can feel the worry in the bond the both of you share, you don’t dwell on his reaction, quickly getting on your feet to fix the blaster as soon as possible, finally getting it unstuck.

Jungkook’s ship makes its way near you again, and you think he’s going to give you a quick ride back to the docking area, but before he could do so, you see a few ships tailing his, coming a little too close to comfort to where both you and Jungkook are situated, an ambush, a flurry of red and white chasing the lone black ship, the rebellion are really eyeing every opportunity to have Jungkook dead.

It was instinctual, you were raised to not have any fear, to die for the cause, even though you weren’t all that dedicated to any of the sides you have been on, but Jungkook is Jungkook, he’s not a side, and you don’t understand why you’re risking your life for him, but it just felt right when you harness all the force in your being to constrain the three ships together, the one in the middle exploding from the pressure while the other two begin to catch fire from the damage, the damage must’ve caught Jungkook’s attention, because before you felt all the energy fade from your body, you see his ship turn its back to you, flashes of red lasers are the last thing you see before your body slumps, your vision blacking out to fade into darkness.

Soft, to the point of being close to what you imagine sleeping on a cloud would feel like, is this how death feels like? So all the jedi afterlife world was complete bullshit? Not surprised, you always thought those jedis that claim to see their dead masters were all in such dire and desperate situations that they started having hallucinations.

But then you feel it, the receptors at the tips of your fingers, the smooth sheets under your palm, you’re alive, then you feel yourself jolting out of bed when your eyes pry themselves open in surprise, a gasp leaving your chest as you sit up.

“Miss is awake! I’ll fetch Lord Jungkook immediately!” you hear the voice of a droid say before the sound of the doors opening and closing reaches your ears.

Another droid dashes to tend to you, checking your pulse, your vision, and brain activity.

“Everything seems to be normal, miss, do you need me to fetch you anything?” the droid asks.

“You’re dismissed, I need to get ready for Jungkook’s arrival,” you say before you decide to power off the droid yourself, you're never too comfortable with droids anyways.

You quickly dash to your bathroom to wash up, change and comb your bird nest of hair, god forbid you let anyone see you like this.

When you come out of your bathroom, you spot Jungkook standing next to the droid, the droid rattling off your stats like it’s listing out a list of resources the ship needs when it lands for a refill.

“You shouldn’t have turned him off, what if you fainted in the bathroom?” Jungkook asks, turning to you after the droid was done with the updates.

“I was overexerted from using all that force, all that sleep got me feeling more refreshed than ever, he said I slept for two days straight,” you nod at the droid’s direction.

“Force exertion is the equivalent to getting a serious injury,” Jungkook says as his eyes scan your face for any signs of pain or discomfort, his hand reaches up to feel your forehead, if those doe eyes won’t be the death of you, that hand will be, you thought to yourself mindlessly before the rational part of your brain scolds you and tells those voices to shut up.

When Jungkook finally deemed you alright, the gentleness in his eyes disappeared.

“What were you thinking out there?! You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” Jungkook bursts out, the cold gaze he usually reserves for others now directed to you, but instead of cowering in fear in silence like others, you’re taken aback by that tone directed at you, never once has he ever reprimanded you this way, not even when you were first taken in as hostage, but you’re never the type to back down when a man raises his voice at you.

“Well, maybe I wanted to die! I was ready to die back when I first got here anyways!”

Jungkook is rarely ever speechless, this is the first time you’ve seen him flabbergasted, and in the worst way possible, you've never felt his wrath on you, the effect making your hairs stand on its ends.

“Did you still want to die? All this time? Even after being under my care?” Jungkook asks, his tone deadly, even if you were deaf, you’d be able to feel it through the force.

“I..” but before you could explain yourself out of the situation, or try to help him understand what you're uncertain you're even feeling yourself, you see the familiar bright sliver of his dagger, the one that you know he keeps by his side as a last means of defense, a weapon that is perfectly deadly in the hands of someone with the force.

You quickly dodge out of the way, summoning the force beneath your feet to elevate yourself, the dagger touching the tip of your feet, you're fast on your feet, on defense, but Jungkook has always been quick on offence, it's why the two of you work so well, the sound of a twang sounds behind you when the dagger etches into the wall, just the tip, before it lands on the metal floor.

“Stop defending yourself if you just want to die!” Jungkook bellows before he comes storming towards you, the blazing red glow of his lightsaber emitting off his sharp features.

At this moment, you don't want to die, you don't want to die seeing Jungkook angry, you don't want to die knowing that you had disappointed him, and so you draw your own lightsaber, quickly deflecting his own, the lasers deflecting sparks off each other, your lightsabers a contrast with one another, Jungkook’s being a shade of dark red, and yours being a faint shade of rogue, his eyes widen at the familiar colours, hesitation flickers across his face, and that's when you make your move, summoning force to your forefront to send Jungkook thumbling a few steps backwards while you catch your breath.

“I don't know how I want to live my life yet! I haven’t phased out from the life I led before you picked me up,” you say, your eyes downcast, you don’t know how to face him, in your defence, that’s the harsh truth, you were always wishing to leave, to get out, but you didn’t think that day would actually come until it did, and now you’re lost, all your life, you’ve been drifting aimlessly, a tree without roots, you don’t know your origins, you don’t know your future, and coming to terms to that in front of a person who probably has everything figured out is…shameful.

You finally look up from where your eyes were previously trained on the rough grip you had on the staff of your lightsaber, even though you could feel Jungkook’s hostility decreasing through the feel of the force, you know he isn’t entirely not angry, and your suspicions are confirmed when you’re greeted by the sight of his locked jaw and cold eyes, his lips still set in a thin line, but his lightsaber is switched off.

“I offered you the position of succeeding me, but you won’t take it, I was paving you a path, a way to live your life, you just have to say yes,” Jungkook looks at you, now with more warmth in his eyes, hopeful, but you can’t, you can’t promise him and yourself something that you’re so uncertain of.

“I’m not sure I have the capabilities to lead as well as you, and I’m not sure if that’s the life I want to live, I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you might as well be honest, it’s manipulative to lead him on just for the sake of the benefits of living here, under the protection of the new order and Jungkook, and if he wishes to end your life right here, then he has every right to.

“You disappoint me,” Jungkook mutters before he turns his back to leave the room, leaving you wondering if maybe you should’ve just said yes to appease him, or that maybe death is a better fate than disappointing the person who you actually sort of look up to.

Later in the day, you don’t see Jungkook, everyone’s busy with packing to get ready to return to base, a first for you, you didn’t even know where you would’ve been staying until a droid came over to tell you that it would be responsible for escorting you to your new quarters.

When you finally arrive, you’re greeted by the sight of a healthy green planet, you were quick to get off, with your limited belongings, the droid enthusiastically escorting you to your new quarters, which turns out to be a large unit within the base.

“Everything’s been modelled to suit the aesthetic you had picked prior, miss, the fridge is stocked, heating is available, running water is available, heated water as well, I was also advised to stock up your wardrobe, everything is according to the measurements you sent, and whatever daily necessities you may need, miss, when things run out, just type in what you need in the tablet available by your bedside, miss,” the droid explains with wide gestures and quick steps to show where everything is.

“Thank you, you’re dismissed, I won’t be needing anything else,” you say with a curt bow, to which the droid returns.

“Before I leave, here’s your keycard, miss, but you can use the facial recognition system which can be turned off in the settings panel as well, no one can come into your room without authorisation, so don’t worry about anyone barging into your room, miss, that is all, miss, have a good rest, miss,” the droid says before finally stepping out the door.

So this is where you’ll be staying when you’re not travelling, you look around with a huff, it is nice, but you’ve never lived in such a spacious place before, being on the run meant you had to sleep in tight places with someone in your personal space, maybe you’re a greedy bitch for wanting the luxuries that come with being Jungkook’s pandawan without accepting the duties that come with it, should you leave? Will he kill you if you do? With all the secrets you know, he probably will…this is a deadend for you.

A few days have passed since arriving to base and Jungkook and you have this cold war going on, you’ve only seen him in passing, he hasn’t scheduled a lesson ever since the confrontation, and maybe it’s a good thing, maybe he needs more time to think of what to do with you, in all honesty, you wouldn’t mind just being one of his fighters, at least you’ll get to stay.

There was a sudden fanfare today when you were out for lunch, you got to know what when the waitress sees you looking confused in your spot, watching the soldiers lining up outside a ship.

“You must be new here, that’s Lord and Lady Kim, they’re close friends with Lord Jungkook, dear, they’re the only few that know of this location and can freely travel in and out of base,” she explains before scurrying away when someone flags for her attention. You quickly finish up your food and return to the main building, it’s best to return in case you’re needed for whatever.

Celebrations were still ongoing when you got back, hopping off your hover car and quickly thanking the droid who works in the valet service.

You ask around to find out that the main celebrations are taking place in the grandhall, where major events are held and important announcements are made, which means the waitress was telling the truth about Lord and Lady Kim being very closely affiliated with Jungkook.

You’ve never seen the grandhall being decorated to the nines, so when the droids open the doors for you, you’re surprised by the grandeur decorations spanning the entire room, even the serving droids look freshly waxed, handing out food and champagne to everyone on shiny platters.

You spot Captain Yoongi a few feet away, nursing a glass of whiskey by himself.

“Hey, do you know them personally?” you ask when Yoongi sees you.

“Kind of yeah, but I’m not one of those kiss-assers,” Yoongi jokes with a jerk of his head to where the crowd is gathered, probably where Lord and Lady Kim are.

“You should say hi at least, be a good friend, cap,” you joke.

“The fact that I’m here is already a reach, I could be taking a nap right now and waited until the dinner to see them,” he retrots, finishing his glass before flagging down a droid for another glass, the two of you watching the people silently, if there’s anything the two of you can definitely get by, it’s people watching, or for Yoongi, people judging.

A few minutes later, the crowd finally parts, and everyone can see why, Jungkook has arrived and has gone straight for the couple, when the crowd parts, so does who you think is Lord Kim and Lady Kim, both of them tall in stature with kind smiles on their faces, you avert your gaze to the side and that's when you see him, Jungkook, saying something to Lord Kim, but when he feels your gaze on him, he diverts his attention to your direction, immediately his eyes harden at the sight of you.

“That's my cue to leave, cap,” you say before quickly downing the rest of your glass.

“Are you seriously going to avoid him forever?” Captain Yoongi asks with a scoff, “you and I both know he's never going to come around, so don't be the stubborn one, kid, he's way more stubborn,” he says, and you know what he means by that, Jungkook has an ego that comes with his reputation after all.

“I just need to figure some things out and so does he, I'm gonna go now, don't miss me too much,” you say before quickly sneaking away.

“Mind telling me who's the young lady that's got you so riled up yet you have no plans of killing her?” Namjoon asks his long time friend, Jungkook is like a younger brother to him at this point if he was being honest, so of course he's intrigued by Jungkook acting this way, a first in the many years he's known him since they were children.

“She's my pandawan, but she rejected my offer of having her lead the new order after me,” Jungkook mutters with disappointment before downing his glass, welcoming the burn of the alcohol down his throat.

“She's not that young though, do you plan on retiring early?” Namjoon asks with a shock, his wife, Sejin is intrigued as well, Jungkook isn't the type to hand over power so quickly based on their understanding of their dear friend.

“She's still many years younger than me, I could still take on another pandawan, or she could, was my initial plan, no one else had piqued my interest like she did, everyone else lacks in talent,” Jungkook explains.

“So you're mad she doesn't want to be your successor? Then you should just dismiss her as pandawan, you can always find a new one” Namjoon suggests with a dismissive wave of his hand, but Sejin could tell something was bothering him and that her husband's dismissive suggestion isn't something Jungkook wants to hear.

“Maybe you can keep her as your right hand woman, not everyone wants to be a leader, Jungkook,” she suggests, and from the way she could see you standing there in silence instead of socialising with the rest of the crowd, she could just tell you have no desire to lead an entire nation.

“Quite out of character for you to not kill her once she told you that,” Namjoon notes, which earns a swat on the arm by his wife, she doesn't want someone dying out of her husband's silly suggestion of all things, they did leave behind this life to lead a peaceful one, and that means as less bloodshed as possible, even indirectly.

“I wanted to, but I couldn't,” Jungkook says without further elaboration as he notes that you have already left the hall.

Namjoon and his wife share a look between themselves when they see the little bits of forlorn on his face that aren't obvious to others.

After a long day of training with R9F7 and practice flying a ship with Captain Yoongi, you felt tired and in dire need of a nap after a shower. When you had finally woken up, you thought of heading down the dining hall for dinner, but a small bouquet of flowers by your doorstep had you stopped in your tracks.

Miffed by the sight of it, you quickly look around to see who left it there, but noting that it's dinnertime now, chances of the person delivering the flowers having left long ago are quite high, so you bring it back in to read the note.

Written in what you presume is the florist’s handwriting, due to how neat it is, is an address, time, and a table reservation number for the restaurant listed.

You quickly change as you debate on whether you should go, whoever sent it is probably quite high in ranking to know which unit you stay, and is probably not someone that is against the order, since your living quarters have high security levels, so who sent those flowers?

Fuck it, you think to yourself, you're perfectly capable of protecting yourself, you reassure yourself as you pull on a dress and a brand new coat, you've never dressed up before, it was merely a fibble dream back then, to think you'd be able to live a stable life of riches and be adorned in the finest silks if you're willing to fight for a greater cause, you scoff at the thought of your old perceptions on life, no one would be able to afford such a life through justice, at least not anywhere in the near future, not as long as Jungkook exists.

Before you left your unit, you quickly strap your lightsaber on your thigh, just in case, you thought to yourself.

You summon R9F7 to drive your hover car, just in case you want to drink during or after the meal, depending on if the person you're meeting is someone you deem you should be weary of.

When you get to your destination, you quickly pat down your hair, maybe you should consider getting a hood installed on your hover car, you think to yourself as you tell R9F7 that he's free to walk around if he wants after he dropped you off.

Heading to the restaurant, you immediately walked up to the employee situated at the front of the property, noting that this place must be expensive if there's service right outside the restaurant and you also see two security droids in place.

“Reservations only, miss,” the waiter informs you without looking up from his tablet, seemingly uninterested in servicing you.

You state the reservation number for him and that's when he finally looks up.

“Please, right this way, miss,” he says as he gestures the droids to open the door, the gust of warm air providing a sense of comfort, until you see how fancy it is on the inside, velvet carpeting with intricate designs, customers dressed fancily, crystal chandeliers hanging from high ceilings, and cutlery that look more like fine jewellery in your eyes, but that's when you notice the stares and the whispers amongst the diners, they must've realised you're not a regular.

“That's the Dark Lord's pandawan, I saw her at the welcome ceremony of the Kims’ that day,” you catch someone saying, loud enough for someone with the force to hear.

You seriously hope no one recognises you in your seating area, you think to yourself before you finally come to a stop at a more secluded area, and the person waiting for you was none other than Lady Kim herself.

“It's nice to finally meet you, I'm not sure if you saw me that day during the welcoming ceremony, I'm Sejin, I've been friends with Jungkook for a long time, but my husband, Namjoon, is much closer to him. I thought I'd take this opportunity to get to know you, now that we're back for a visit, my husband is busy with catching up with his old friends, so I thought I'd take this chance to get to know you first, we're both women after all,” Lady Kim says as she stands up to shake your hand, gesturing you to take the seat in front of her.

“It's nice to meet you, Lady Kim, but I'm not sure why you would want to meet me of all people,” you say honestly, you would've understood if you met under formal circumstances, like being introduced by Jungkook as his pandawan, not in such a private situation, not even on base grounds.

“I wanted to meet you, you're Jungkook’s pandawan after all, being Jungkook’s close friend, I think it's normal to want to meet his pandawan,” she replies as she flags down a waiter to pour you a glass of wine identical to hers.

Gears turn in your head as you try to read the woman in front of you, after being under Jungkook, you've learned that people usually have the worst intentions and assumptions towards you, so you've grown to be cautious with strangers.

“I just thought we would've waited until our formal introduction with Lord Jungkook, but I have no qualms about meeting you for this dinner, Lady Kim,” you explained, not wanting to come off as hostile or reluctant to meet her, you don't want to offend her, especially given the fact that she seems almost like family to Jungkook.

“Please, just call me Sejin, Lady Kim makes me sound so old, and thank you so much for meeting me, sorry for not informing earlier, I was worried you wouldn't be willing to meet me if you had known,” she explains, her expression apologetic, but you understand where she's coming from, you don't like people knowing you're Jungkook’s pandawan either, they always have a bad perception of you.

“I wouldn't have minded, Lady Kim,” you quickly reply, still not forgoing the honorific, but she quickly amends you, chastising you in a lighthearted manner to not call her by her title.

“How old are you, darling? You look so young,” she remarks as the first two dishes are being laid on the table, you sure hope she didn't order too much, or anything too exotic, you weren't familiar with what people on the dark side eat until just a few months ago, there's still many things you've never tried.

“I'm 21,” you say before thanking Sejin for putting food on your table, even the ham looks fancier than usual in this restaurant.

“Oh my, you must've been so young when you were taken in by your first master,” Sejin exclaims, chopsticks hanging idly between her fingers when she registers what you said.

“I was trained under a jedi master before Jungkook,” you answer honestly, but albeit, hesitant, your loyalty lies with Jungkook, but you know the whispers of some of his men, how you're unworthy because you used to be under the rebellion.

“Darling, you don't have to be ashamed about your past, in fact, I was trained in a rebellion academy too,” Sejin says, which has your eyes going as wide as saucers.

“It wasn't the main rebellion base, just a small academy started by an old master who takes in orphaned kids who were blessed by the force but too old to be enrolled in the official academy, I was to be killed the day the dark forces found the base, but Namjoon pleaded his master, also Jungkook’s master at the time, to give me a chance to live and prove myself worthy, so that's how I met Namjoon and Jungkook, Jungkook was still so young at the time, time flew by so fast after we left, in a blink of an eye, he now has now his own pandawan,” Sejin says with a sigh, nostalgia heavy in her tone, but she seems happy about the way her life turned out too.

“Why did you and Namjoon leave?” you couldn't help but ask, sitting up straighter, engrossed in Sejin’s life story.

“I wanted a life beyond all this, I felt like growing up, from the moment I was abandoned at war, picked up by my old master and met Namjoon, I felt like all I did was training for something that I didn't feel passion for, Namjoon felt like he was doing it out of obligation as well, especially being the oldest one, he was expected to lead the New Order, but Jungkook took over instead when our old master died, he was always the one that's more passionate about leading the New Order, so Namjoon and I decided to leave, start a life for ourselves, to see the universe. So I understand if you have no desire to follow Jungkook’s footsteps, I've been at such a crossroad too, but I think he didn't receive the news all that well because maybe a part of him still feels like he was abandoned by Namjoon and I,” Sejin explained.

“I'm sorry you had to go through so much at such a young age,” you know how hard it is, having experienced it first hand, but you know she must've had it even harder, Jungkook treats you as an equal despite being his pandawan, but you're sure their old master, being someone of more traditional upbringing, couldn't have treated them as well.

“It's fine, it's been so long, I've moved on quite alright, but I just want to let you know, I'm here to offer you a chance to leave this all behind too, Namjoon and I never had any children, nor do we plan to, since we always move around in fear of being caught or killed, we talked and decided that if you ever want to live with us, we welcome you with open arms,” Sejin offers with sincerity in her eyes, you can see the moisture in them, and you know where she's coming from, she sees herself in your life story too.

“Thank you so much for giving me the chance to leave with you, but I can't leave Jungkook, my loyalties lie with him, he saved my life and I'll always be grateful to him, I can't imagine myself not being under his servitude,” you decline politely, if it wasn't Jungkook you would've taken up on her offer, but you don't have any aspirations other than protecting the one who saved you from your miserable life, even if he demands to have you killed, you wouldn't have any qualms.

“Jungkook saved my life, if he wants me to hand over my life for not following his footsteps, then that's a price I'm willing to pay,” you elaborate further before sighing, you've sealed your fate since the day you accepted his offer, and you always keep your word.

“Darling, he's not going to kill you for not taking over his place, if he wanted to kill you he would've done so long ago, I know I might be prying, but I feel like there's another reason for wanting to stay by his side, do you perhaps hold affection towards Jungkook?” Sejin asks with a knowing smile on her face, not a sliver of judgement, but you feel like you've been gobsmacked by the force in its entirety.

“I wouldn't even dare dream of such a thing, goodness,” you say with a weak chuckle, quickly distracting yourself with your drink, taking a quick sip, you would've downed the whole thing, but that would make you look ridiculous.

Thankfully the food has finally arrived, temporarily diverting both of your attention.

“I won't question you further, there are some things you need figuring out yourself,” she says before she plates some food onto your plate with a knowing smile on her face.

*I ran out of image limit so this is my new page break, sorry guys*

“I saw your pandawan leaving base all dressed up when I was on my way here,” Namjoon brings up midway through dinner at Jungkook’s chambers.

The man across from him immediately stops chewing on his steak, the force around them strumming in suspense, even without the force, they would've felt the hostility in the air even if they can't see the hardened expression on Jungkook’s face.

“Maybe it's just a friend,” Namjoon says offhandedly, and then Jungkook stiffens up, instantly he lets go of his hold on the force, but Namjoon is used to this sort of suffocation, he had to deal with teenage Jungkook after all.

“It doesn't matter,” Jungkook brushes off, resumes cutting his steak, but with a new sense of vigour, the knife scratching the surface of the plate.

“You can't lie to me, Jungkook, need I remind you we grew up together?” Namjoon teases, but he's still concerned, he's never seen his friend invested in something other than his work, “You need to tell her how you feel,” Namjoon advises, though he knows what Jungkook is thinking when he sees the clench of his jaw, and just as Namjoon predicted, Jungkook refutes immediately.

“That's my pandawan we’re talking about,” Jungkook deadpans, staring down at his long time friend.

“I know, just because I'm in my forties, doesn't mean I'm hard of hearing, and just because you're in your 30s, doesn't mean you're an old man, she's only in her 20s, that's not very far apart,” Namjoon explains, because he knows what Jungkook’s mindset is right now, he thinks he's too old for you.

“Don't be ridiculous, she's in her early twenties, she deserves someone her own age, not me,” Jungkook protests with an agitated sigh before he downs the rest of his whisky, the droid immediately refilling his glass, as dutiful as ever, but maybe out of fear too.

“Why are you so against the idea of being with your pandawan? She's an adult, what are you scared of? Definitely not what other people might say. Are you scared you might take advantage of her?” Namjoon retorts to elicit a reaction out of Jungkook, and it's instant.

“I would cut off my own arm before I would even think of doing anything without her permission,” Jungkook says with the force omitting from Jungkook’s body in waves, the droid at the side quietly scoots away from his previous spot closer to Jungkook.

“Then why are you so against the idea of being romantically involved with her?” Namjoon questions with a gentle tone, he's gotten his point across, he doesn't need to press further, Jungkook is in denial, but nowhere near dumb, he just wanted to know why his dear friend is torturing himself by denying his own feelings, but if he won't tell him now, he'll just have to try his best to pry later.

*page break*

The forest stands intimidating as the winds howl and the trees waver under its force, the sound of leaves rustling a familiar tune for Jungkook and Namjoon.

“Can't believe we didn't do this the last time you came back,” Jungkook says as he watches the scenery with a fond nostalgia.

“Didn't know you'd still fancy hunting this much, after so many years of being the Dark Lord,” Namjoon muses with a shake of his head, but he'd ought to know better, Jungkook always had a sense of childlike adventure and a hunger for a challenge, it's why he enjoys what he does.

“Hunting creatures sometimes trains my wits more than hunting people, people are getting more stupid by the day,” Jungkook says before he orders a trooper to open the weapon crate, “Weapon of choice? I'll let you pick since you're my hyung,” Jungkook says before he walks aside to let Namjoon take a look.

Namjoon digs around, uninterested, until he finds a rod shaped weapon, with a click of a button, it unfolds itself into a spear.

“Always have an eye for the unconventional ones,” Jungkook mutters but laments, picking up another spear from the crate.

“That's what makes things fun, Jungkook, gotta keep you on your toes, that's what I'm here for on this boring planet,” Namjoon says before he takes off into the forest, the familiar scent of the trees greeting him like a warm hug.

The sun is nowhere near setting, but in this forest, the rays are blocked by the thick trees overhead. However, Jungkook isn't worried about the darkness, he's trained to see through the force instead of his vision, the force to users as skilled as Jungkook, is like touching the fabric of existence, able to map out every obstacle around him like a physical map.

He hasn't gone hunting ever since the last time he did it with Namjoon, but the forest doesn't feel the same since then, it's too empty. Jungkook hasn't felt a creature other than some bugs for miles, which is an odd occurrence for a forest that he knows is abundant with wildlife.

Something feels terribly off, and he hates that feeling, especially when it's happening on home base.

Instead of trekking for animals, he's now feeling the force for Namjoons's whereabouts, but he must've walked further away from him to have a better chance of higher numbers, he isn't on Jungkook’s radar anymore, and communication doesn’t work in this forest, they did agree to meet back out in an hour's time, but his gut tells him to not dwell.

Suddenly, he feels footsteps, lots of them, then he registers it, a stampede, and it's coming his way.

Creatures he's all too familiar with, even the more ferocious ones, are chasing the tail of some small creatures, but not as predators, because Jungkook can sense the fear in all the creatures in the stampede.

Jungkook immediately summons the force to jump onto a high branch, perched on a higher ground to observe what's happening below, he still can't see nor feel the creature that caused this stampede, but he knows it must be ragesome for it to trigger a stampede in the forest, and he has a sinking feeling that it isn't native.

Then he feels it, a thrumming in the force, a disturbance, but a familiar strum has Jungkook on alert, Namjoon is close, but he's miffed by the fact that both the creature and Namjoons's presence are ascending his way simultaneously.

By now Jungkook doesn't need to use the force to keep track of the creature, the whole forest is shaking from the weight of its heavy footfalls.

Lo and behold, there he sees it, a green 10 feet tall reptile on all fours, huffing and shaking its head, clung onto his neck is no other than Namjoon himself, trying his hardest to hold on for his life while he tries to stab the creature with the spear that acts more like a sharp stick against this monster.

Jungkook has no idea where this creature came from or why his hyung is on its back, but he's damn sure he isn't going to let Namjoon die in the jaws of this monster.

“Joon! Get off its back!” Jungkook shouts from the top of his lungs, getting the attention of his hyung, thankfully, he heard him or felt his intentions through the force, and so he leaps off its back to the side, rolling to safety.

Jungkook descends from his spot from the branch, summoning the force to cease the creature in its tracks by exuding pressure in front of it, acting as a temporary barrier.

The creature’s weight has Jungkook skidding back a few steps, shaking its head, confused as to why there's something in its way despite not seeing any physical obstacle, but then its eyes zero in on Jungkook’s figure a few feet away, and with a mighty roar that showcases its sharp teeth, it decides to pounce on Jungkook, but Jungkook once again stops it with his force before he wields his lightsaber purely with the force, calling it from where he laid it out for safekeeping right outside the forest, thankfully they've moved closer to the forest clearing, Jungkook was planning on ending it once and for all by plunging the weapon into its throat, however, the creature had unfortunately caught sight of Jungkook’s lightsaber, and with a swish of its tail, albeit with a wail of pain from the burn of the saber, the lightsaber is smashed to pieces, distracted by his prized weapon destroyed right in front of his eyes, Jungkook was was nearly bitten by the creature if Namjoon hadn't used the force to pull him out of the way.

“Fuck, did you bring your lightsaber?” Jungkook asks.

“No, I didn't expect we'd come across anything that needed one,” Namjoon says before he advances onto the monster once again, with the spear in hand, he leaps onto the monster’s neck once more, angering it.

“Try to strike its eyes out!” Namjoon suggests, and with a sigh, Jungkook follows suit, trying his best to balance with the aid of the force, Jungkook tries to get the spear into its throat, but the reptile's strong scales wouldn't budge, protecting itself like an armour.

“The spear isn't strong enough to penetrate its scales, if we blind it, we might be able to find its weak spot on its underbelly,” Namjoon informs Jungkook, to which the latter nods, trying his best to weaken its sight, but things prove to be tough since the monster is trying its hardest to shake them off like they're merely pesky flies.

Jungkook hopes they'll get out of this alive.

*page break*

An insistent throbbing in the back of your head rouses you from your nap, immediately you can tell something’s wrong, and that something being Jungkook, you're not sure how it works, but having a force bond with someone is like an invisible string, and the throbbing at the back of your head is similar to a thread being yanked on, beckoning you for help, even if the person in danger didn't specifically asked for you.

You quickly get dressed and grab your hoverboard, you shouldn't be riding it in hallways, but the route from your unit to Jungkook’s unit is quite near, some staff did give you the side eye, but you needed to be quick.

“Droid, where's Lord Jungkook?” you ask the droid standing guard as you skid to a stop in front of Jungkook’s unit.

“Lord Jungkook has went hunting with Lord Kim in the forest, miss, would you like to schedule an appointment to meet with Lord Jungkook after he comes back?” the droid asks, but you have taken off in a haste once you knew of his location.

After zooming through the hallways with many apologies given, you finally reach the entrance of the forest, and gathered around an empty clearing are five storm troopers.

“Lord Jungkook is in danger, I need all of you to follow me into the forest,” you ordered, all of them scrambled to their feet, but the leader, the one with a red graphic print on their shoulder pad remains seated.

“With all due respect, miss, but we were ordered to await Lord Jungkook’s arrival back from the forest, and given Lord Jungkook’s capabilities, I doubt he is in any danger,” they dismissed.

“Are you questioning my authority and capability of wielding the power of the force?!” you question with a flick of your wrist, the trooper is being tossed high up into the air, screaming on top of their lungs before they begin apologising and pleading for your forgiveness.

“Miss, look, there's birds flying out in flocks from that direction,” another trooper informs you, so you quickly let the trooper down and hop on your hoverboard.

“I sent all of you my tracking so you can follow my lead, call backup as well,” you say before taking off into the direction of where the commotion was at.

You've been in the forest many times to train alone, but you've never delved into the thick of it like this before, where the trees are more dense from one another.

You try feeling your way through the forest as well as following Jungkook’s energy force like a beacon, but one thing for sure, there's definitely something that doesn't belong in the forest, you can sense its immense size sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the other creatures.

When you reach a clearing, you see the monster in its entirety, its eyes blazing, mad that Jungkook and Lord Kim are trying their best to deter it in its path by blocking its vision, though, you can tell they're trying their best to injure it.

“Jungkook get out of the way!” you shout from the top of your lungs as you summon your knives, the knives flying through the air with the power of your force, Jungkook dodges right before the knives are impaled into its left eye, roaring at the pain, and also distracted, you used this chance to take it down, your lightsaber alight before you took off, summoning the force to give you a boost to your jump, stabbing the lightsaber into its neck before you let the force of gravity do its thing, slicing its neck all the way down.

You jump back when the blood of the creature starts to spray out in jets, but in doing so, you miss the snap of its jaw, you feel a familiar hand reach out to grab you before the creature could have your life one last time, you were pushed away, a loud curse reaches your ear, you look back to see Jungkook throwing a spear with all his might into the monsters jaw, the creature whimpers at the unexpected pain, before it finally succumbs to its injuries, falling to the side lifelessly.

With a sigh of relief, you quickly turn to Jungkook, but your blood runs cold at the sight, his back has obvious scratch marks from the creature's teeth and his clothes are drenched in his blood.

“Jungkook!” you call with a wretched sob before the man before you sways, you quickly catch him before he falls, his whole weight crashing onto you.

Then you hear the troopers, most of them bought weapons but thankfully one of them thought of bringing a stretcher, better late than never at least, you thought with a sigh.

Lord Kim calls out your name before offering you help in manoeuvring Jungkook onto the stretcher.

“Jungkook’s going to be fine, he's seen worse, let's hurry back to get you checked out as well,” Lord Kim says as he checks you for any obvious injuries.

“Thank you, Lord Kim,” you say with a bow, but he quickly dismisses you and tells you to call him by his name as well, just like his wife.

You can’t help but worry when you watch the many different machines scanning him and tending to his wounds, you can’t help the pangs of aches in your heart when the sight of his old battle scars meets your eyes.

“You’ve been overlooking the droids for a long time now, darling, the next procedure’s going to be more invasive, how about we let the droids work in privacy?” Sejin says, and immediately the droids start undressing Jungkook more, so you quickly agree and make a turn to leave Jungkook’s room in a haste.

“You need to get some rest yourself, darling, you can visit him after the droids are done,” Sejin says, and you agree, you do feel tired after all that’s happened.

*page break*

A groan leaves Jungkook when he rouses, a slight ache settling into his body, nothing out of the ordinary, but what he didn’t expect was the weight that he feels on the area of his wrist, he cracks opens his eyes and he sees you, asleep, bent over with your arms folded as a makeshift pillow, then everything comes rushing over him, the beast, you swooping in to help him and Namjoon fight it off, and him getting hurt because of saving you.

Jungkook sighs to himself at the reminder of that memory, he can’t avoid you any longer, it’s not professional nor it is healthy for the two of you moving forward by putting a strain on your relationship this way, but he can’t help but be pissed that you almost got hurt again, but he knows he and Namjoon would’ve struggled to take down that monster by themselves.

Jungkook sees you stir just as the force bond tingles at the back of his neck.

You jolt awake at the sight of Jungkook awake and staring at you with those intense eyes of his, and so you did the thing you rarely ever do, bolting.

“I’m gonna go inform Lord and Lady Kim,” you mutter in one breath and leave before Jungkook could say anything to you.

Jungkook sighs before he hears a droid coming to him to rattle off his vitals, he begrudgingly leaves the comfort of his bed to wash up, and when he comes out, Namjoon and Sejin are seated on his living room sofa.

“Look who finally decided to wake up,” Namjoon teases before he engulfs his friend into a bone crushing hug, a hand patting his back a little too hard, but Jungkook’s used to it by now.

“How long was I out?” Jungkook asks when his friend finally pulls away.

“About two days, silly girl didn’t leave your side ever since you laid on that bed,” Namjoon informs, and that’s when Jungkook notices it.

His home is usually very neat, he’s what most people call a neat freak, but now there’s things scattered around, a practice stick laying on the ground, a book of his on the coffee table with a bookmark shoved in haphazardly, and some of his photo frames misplaced, and scarily enough, he doesn’t feel an ounce of irritation.

“Poor girl didn’t leave your bedside, worried to death,” Sejin pipes up with a glint in her eyes, she knows the topic about the two of you can’t be avoided at this point.

“You should’ve told her I was going to be fine and to get back to her own life,” Jungkook says with a sigh, thinking about how you were cooped up here for almost 3 days.

“You think we didn’t try telling her that? She didn’t listen, as stubborn as you are, unsurprisingly, but that’s what you saw in her isn’t it?” Namjoon teases and Jungkook turns away to his shelf, seemingly arranging his things, but he’s just looking at what you browsed according to the movement of his things.

“That’s what I saw in her as my pandawan,” Jungkook clarifies but he hears Sejin’s snicker.

Jungkook lifts up a snowglobe of some sort from his collection of random things from his endeavours before he abruptly slams it down when he hears both of his friends now blatantly laughing at him.

“Are the two of you here to inquire about my health or gossip about me in front of my face?” Jungkook questions, turning back to face his friends with a scorned expression, he’s not used to people blatantly going against him this way.

“Oh come on, Jungkook, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity to get my lick back for all the years you teased me about Sejin,” Namjoon jokes.

Jungkook curses at his teenage self for not shutting up, with a roll of his eyes, he plops down on the couch with a huff, and suddenly, Jungkook looks so much like his younger self to the couple.

“Cut him some slack, love, I wasn’t your pandawan, so things do seem more complicated, but these are just surface things, Jungkook ah, if you have no bad intentions then what’s stopping you? If anything happens, you’ll regret having not been loved or have loved someone, trust me, Namjoon and I, we’ve been in tight situations before we left all this behind, and in that moment, I had no regrets because I had a fulfilled life loving and being loved by Namjoon, but I understand why you’re hesitant, since you’re all good and up on your feet, we’ll leave you to continue resting up, we’ll come by tomorrow again,” Sejin says, tugging a very confused Namjoon on his feet.

“Let the poor boy figure things out, he’s just woken up and now he’s clouded by all these emotions,” he hears Sejin say under her breath to Namjoon, but Jungkook doesn’t hear what Namjoon says, nor does he bother to correct Sejin that he’s no longer the boy that she used to watch over with Namjoon but in fact a grown man in his 30s.

After his friends’ departure, Jungkook sits in silence in his own unit, ‘are you not coming back to check up on him?’, he wonders with a displeased sigh.

When it gets late to the point where he knows you’re most probably asleep, he gives up waiting on you. Jungkook’s eyes land on a bracelet he’s never seen before when he heads to bed, sitting idly on his nightstand, ‘did his droids find this when they were cleaning his room during his brief coma?’ he wonders to himself, but he doesn’t remember any of his past conquests wearing anything of this sort, but to be fair, he doesn’t remember much about them, if anything arises his suspicions, he’ll just check the cameras in his home, he brushes the bracelet off, he’ll just drop it off lost and found tomorrow, he decides before letting sleep consume him once more.

But not long after he fell asleep, at least according to the clock on his bedside, he hears rustling coming from his living room, he immediately jerks awake at the realisation, summoning the force, the spare lightsaber he owns flying into his outstretched arm before he creeps into his own living room.

His eyes lock in on a familiar figure and now that he’s more awake, he can sense it’s you just by the bond.

“What are you doing here at this hour?” Jungkook questions while he lowers his weapon, letting his guard back down.

You turn around with a surprise gasp from your hunched position over his couch, seemingly searching for something before he caught you like a deer in headlights.

“I realised a bracelet of mine is missing, it was gifted to me by Lady Kim and I’m having breakfast with her tomorrow, so I had to come back to look for it or it’d seem rude to show up without it,” you explain in one frantic breath, standing a little too straight for comfort now.

“You could’ve come to get it earlier,” Jungkook deadpans, arms folded over his chest with a sigh.

“Well. I didn’t want to disturb you, and Lord and Lady Kim were over, so I didn’t want to intrude,” you say, but both of you know that’s not the main reason.

“The droids picked up your bracelet, it’s in my room,” Jungkook says, turning back to the direction of his bedroom, silently beckoning you to follow him, which you do.

Then you see the familiar glint of the beads on his nightstand that you had familiarised yourself with the past few days.

Jungkook takes a seat on his bed before he retrieves the bracelet from his nightstand, beckoning you over with a flick of his wrist, and so you move to stand before him, gently, he grasps your non-dominant hand in his before he slides the bracelet back onto your wrist.

“Take a seat, I’m not here to discipline you,” Jungkook says before patting the spot on the bed next to him.

“We need to have a talk about how you’re constantly putting yourself in danger for me, but in short, stop doing that, don’t risk your life for me,” Jungkook says curtly, keeping things straight to the point.

“Why are you acting like I’m the one who got hurt?” you retorted, but before Jungkook could remind you of what happened, you beat him to it, you have a fast mouth on you, that Jungkook acknowledges.

“I get it, you saved me, but if I wasn’t there, that monster might’ve hurt you or Lord Kim like really badly, just because you’re my master, doesn’t mean you’re invincible,” you reasoned, and Jungkook equally loves and hates this part of you, the way you stand up to him with little to no fear, he doesn’t have many equals in this position other than Namjoon and Sejin, but unfortunately for you, this is what keeps Jungkook on his toes and also the reason his temper fires up.

“I’m not invincible, but you’re not either!” Jungkook retrots, his voice booming in his spacious unit, his eyes ablaze, chest heaving. Jungkook rarely ever raises his voice, if he’s mad at someone for a failed task, he’d merely dispose of them, which is why he’s bad at controlling his emotions around you, he’s never needed to keep himself in check and this doesn’t help the fact that you’re a hot headed person yourself too.

“You don’t get it do you? I don’t want you to risk your life for me!” Jungkook’s so agitated to the point where he’s stood up now, a hand running through his hair.

“We’re all risking our lives for this cause anyway, what’s the difference between me and you?! Why are you ‘allowed’ to get hurt for this cause but I’m not?! Wh-

“Because I can’t stand to see you hurt!”

“What’s the difference between me and all the other millions of people under you?!”

Hearing your outburst, Jungkook walks away with a shake of his head, going to that planet and insisting on wiping out your old master and the rest of his pandawans turned his life over like a snowglobe, and he doesn’t know if it’s for the better when the snowstorm in his head is still raging.

“Don’t make me say it,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, defeated almost, something you’d never thought you’d ever describe Jungkook as.

“Cherishing someone isn’t a sign of weakness, Jungkook,” you lament with a sigh, if this was your bed you would’ve crashed onto it, reasoning with Jungkook is such a mental turmoil.

“It’s wrong if it goes beyond the limit,” Jungkook says, throwing his hands up, very much exasperated, and the sight of you seemingly so calm and collected just pisses him off more.

“What limit, Jungkook?! You’re backing yourself into this non-existent wall for no goddamn reason-

“Because I have feelings for you!” Jungkook bellows, his facial muscles strained to the point where you think he might actually self-combust, then in a flash, you’re being thrown backwards onto Jungkook’s bed, the wind knocked out of you, distantly you can hear Jungkook’s furniture and knick knacks in his room falling over in quick thumps and numerous shatters of glass.

“Fuck,” you hear Jungkook curse before he comes rushing over to you, his worried face coming into view.

“I’m fine, not hurt,” you say before Jungkook helps you sit up from his bed.

“I had no idea having feelings for me is such an agonising experience to the point where you’d have such an explosive reaction,” you mutter bitterly as you sit up from Jungkook’s bed.

“It’s agonising because it’s not right, not because of you,” Jungkook says in a disheartened tone, looking away from you, head hanging low in the glow of his lamp in the corner.

“You’re big bad Dark Lord and you’re scared about what people say behind your back?!” you question with full offence, head whipped to the direction of the pathetic man you’d looked up to for so long, he tenses up at your accusation, and he turns to face you in an instant, his venomous eyes piercing into yours.

“If someone even dares to speak ill of me or you, they’ll regret it in their last dying breath,” Jungkook warns with a slight growl, and to your dismay, it sends a chill down your spine.

“Then what’s your damn issue? Don’t tell me you suddenly have a moral high ground, you kill and torture, but you’re not willing to touch your pandawan?!” you shout in his face before you could register to filter that damn primal part of yourself.

“It’s because I’m so much older you, god damnit!” Jungkook retorts, hands flailing, you’ve never seen him so out of his damn mind, and it kind of feeds into your ego that you can make the most powerful man in the universe crumble this way.

“So what? I’m an adult, now and back when we met,” you say a little calmly for Jungkook’s liking, like he’s pathetic for having all these valid concerns.

“I could be your father at this age of mine,” Jungkook mutters dejectedly.

“Maybe boys my age are of no interest to me, have you thought about that?” you fire back, and Jungkook looks at you like you just said the most scandalised thing he’s ever said, you hate it when he babies you like a child, you have made no reckless decision ever since you came here, your most reckless being hurling a giant rock at Jungkook, not that it matters, it got his attention, and now you have him at your feet.

Suddenly, you feel yourself taken over by a crazy amount of confidence, something must’ve possessed you for you to have the courage to walk over to him, and grasp his face in your hands, the way your dainty fingers envelope his sharp features is a sight you won’t be able to forget, but it’s the way his doe eyes get lost in yours is what made your breath hitch, so you swallow the lump in your throat, the power exchange is borderline addictive, yes, Jungkook is slightly more vulnerable at this moment than you’ve ever seen him, but admitting your feelings to him, your heart on your sleeve for his taking in itself is a form of submission, especially for someone as headstrong as you, and you prove your assumptions true when suddenly his eyes sharpen, piercing into your soul like daggers.

“If you want this, I need to know that you’re mine and I’m yours alone,” he says, his voice tense, as if just the thought of you being with someone else sets off his temper.

“I’m yours for the taking,” you say before you finally seal your lips with his, along with your fate.

*page break*

Celebrations are in full swing after Jungkook led everyone to a victorious conquer of yet another galaxy, but that didn’t come easily, some troopers had sacrificed their lives, many injured, you didn’t get out without a few gashes and many bruises too, but what hurt the most were your ears after being lectured by Jungkook for getting hurt, which is ironic, because he had himself battered up too, you didn’t even bat an eye, just patching him up diligently every single time.

Though now, you hold no grudge against him for that, not when he’s having his big day now, which is why you’re dolled up for the night, well, it’s nothing considered too fancy as compared of the many flamboyant outfits you’ve seen the noblewomen adorn day in and out, but it is however, considered dressing up for you, in a glittery dress that shows off your silhouette.

Eyes trace your figure when you make your way through the hall where the celebratory dinner is held, all the way until Jungkook notices you, then the eyes on you, which were quickly diverted when they catch the scowl on his face, but it was quickly wiped off his face when he greets you.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Jungkook whispers to you when you take your seat next to him, eyes discreetly looking over at what he can see of your dress from this angle.

“You don’t look too bad yourself too,” you say instantly, holding your tongue on how you love it when he tight fitted formal attire like these, unfortunately, still black, but it’s almost impossible to convince the man to wear any other colour, but purple does make an appearance once in a while, he has almost ten purple shirts in his closet, and yes, you went through his closet just to see if everything was black to confirm your suspicions.

“Thank you, darling,” Jungkook drawls with one more greedy glance at your appearance before he goes back to people watching, observing who would most likely walk up to him next to talk now that you’re in his presence, everyone wants to know more about the apple of Jungkook’s eye, no one had expected Jungkook, with the temper he has going on, would ever be patient enough to teach someone, especially someone from enemy lines.

“Lord Jungkook, congratulations on the success of your last excursion, achieving great things alongside your pandawan I can see,” Lord Bautinite says, a didynon who’s older than the both of you combined says, but instead of addressing Jungkook properly, the old man is staring at you with his big bug eyes that Jungkook’s holding back the urge to poke out.

“Lord Jungkook did most of the heavy lifting, Lord Bautitine, but thank you for your confidence in my capabilities, I’m merely doing my best to support Lord Jungkook on the field,” you say, always humble, Jungkook lost count on the many times you watched his back for him and patched him up, he wouldn’t have successfully conquered that galaxy if you weren’t there.

“What a humble pandawan you got yourself, Jungkook, have you thought about who to arrange her marriage to?” Lord Bautitine asks with a hopeful glint in his eye that has your temper flaring up, but no one else would feel but Jungkook, due to the force bond between you and Jungkook that has gotten even stronger because your relationship with Jungkook exceeds the depth of a normal master-pandawan relationship, the two of you could feel every change and flicker of emotion no matter how brief and how far the two of you are physically. Jungkook doesn’t expect you to lash out though, you never do, you’re the opposite of Jungkook, Jungkook lets his anger be known by everyone, but you could be feeling even angrier than Jungkook about a situation but your face would give nothing away.

“My pandawan is a grown adult who’s capable of making her own decisions, I have no desire to arrange a marriage for her, she’s free to choose who she wants to be with or to stay single,” Jungkook answers without a second of hesitation, he knows this question would come up sooner or later.

“I have no desire for marriage in the near future, Lord Bautitine, for now my passion lies in serving The New Order only,” you reply with a smile plastered on your face while your temper continues to flare up the force, Jungkook doesn’t know how you do it.

“It’d be a pity to lose such a useful worker to marriage so soon, though I’m sure she will still dedicate a lot her time in her work, I might not be very lenient on her partner if they ever get in the way of her and her work though,” Jungkook says, an indirect warning that underlies the meaning of fuck off.

“Why yes, I hope you find someone who respects your boundaries one day,” Lord Bautitine says to you before he quickly excuses himself to speak to someone else passing by.

“It’s insane how well you manage to compose your anger,” Jungkook says with an amused shake of his head, he was trying so hard not to kill him, but he knows Lord Bautitine has influence in the local economy here, it’d be messy to kill him off.

“I’m surprised you’re getting better at managing your anger too,” you have to give tens where tens are due.

“If he had laid a hand on you he would be dead by now,” Jungkook says casually before taking a swig of his drink, smiling over the rim of his glass when he sees you laugh and your anger fizzling out, but soon, there’s more people to meet, only excusing yourself when the next course rolls out, you don’t mind socialising with Jungkook, but you would never compromise for food and Jungkook respects that.

Deeper into the night, you excuse yourself and leaving Jungkook to his own devices, Jungkook knows your social battery has a limit and he has no desire to drag you around talking to dickheads anyways, it’s normal for you to retire earlier when there’s events like these, and if anyone dares to question Jungkook about your loyalties and hard work, Jungkook allows his displeasure to be known in the most brutal way possible.

*page break*

When Jungkook finally retires to his own quarters, he breathes a sigh of relief when he takes in the comfort of his abode that once felt empty to him, most days you slept over, you practically live here, and so Jungkook’s home now has bright pops of colours, cute cushions from the market, your cup on the kitchen island, and the many jewellery you have lying around here and there that Jungkook bought many of, he reminds himself that this is what he’s doing for, staying in power means he has the means to keep you safe, Jungkook reminds himself as he quietly peels away his clothes to hop in the shower for a quick rinse before joining you in bed, a cute bundle between his sheets.

However, to his surprise, the cute bundle between his sheets is now laying on his bed, your smooth legs posed enticingly, kicking the air lightly while your bum takes the spotlight, the giant red bow sitting prettily at the dip of your back catching Jungkook’s attention instantly.

“What do we have here? Thought you were fast asleep,” Jungkook questions as he rounds his bed with quick strides, tossing his towel aside when he deems his hair dry enough.

“I was, but I heard you in the shower,” you’ve always been a light sleeper from years of being on the run, Jungkook sighs when he remembers that fact, he’s so glad he had that old man die a painful death for what he put you through.

“Aren’t you tired? You didn’t have to do all this for me, having the pleasure to hold you close is enough of a blessing,” Jungkook says as he slides into bed next to you, his nose immediately goes to the juncture of your neck, inhaling your scent mixed with his shower gel, tickling you in the process, his chest blooming at the sound of your sweet giggle.

“Missed you, you’ve been so busy, you deserve a reward too, for all your hard work in the order,” you say before you lead his face to yours, capturing his lips with yours, your hand tangling into his hair, your breath hitching when you feel Jungkook manoeuvre you atop of his lap, he wants you as close as possible after being apart for so long, it’s been only 4 hours max, but Jungkook is a fiend for your presence.

When Jungkook could tell you were getting lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, he pulled away, his eyes immediately trained on the way your eyes had glossed out, lost in the kiss the two of you shared.

“Gorgeous,” Jungkook praises under his breath as he brushes your hair back from your face, taking the sight of you in, he's the luckiest man in this universe, and it's not because of the empire he has, but because of you.

“You mentioned a reward just now, darling,” Jungkook reminds you, with his thumb holding your chin in place, he knows that such a simple gesture has your panties slicking up, always a menace in riling you up.

“Wanna make you feel good,” you emphasise with a roll of your hips, Jungkook’s length twitching at the action, impatient to be inside of you, “but first, how about dessert?” you ask before lightly pushing Jungkook to lay on his back, an amused huff leaving his lips.

“It's like you read my mind, sweetheart,” Jungkook says as he bunches up your nightgown, surprised but very much happy to find that you had forgone panties tonight, “don't hold back, I want your entire weight on my face,” Jungkook demands, knowing that you have the tendency to hover over his face instead of giving him the full meal.

You sigh at your lover’s insistence, so instead of replying him, you take your seat, successfully shutting up and satisfying him, obvious by the groan he emits once he gets the first taste of you, groaning into your core, the vibrations and his tongue have you gasping for air, quickly holding onto the headboard for your dear life.

Jungkook has always been straight to the point in all aspects of his life, which is why he immediately dives his tongue deep inside, the action messes your balance while you curse from the sudden shocks of pleasure, Jungkook, being the observant lover he is, immediately notices and stables you with a palm on one of your cheeks, taking the chance to grab a handful of you, making you squeak at the pinch of his fingers.

Jungkook smiles against your flesh, and to level up a notch, he then frees his other hand from where it was wrapped around your calf to where your bundle of nerves reside, drawing quick circles, timing them perfectly with the thrust of his tongue that has you gasping his name breathlessly between moans.

Jungkook could sense you were getting closer when you started grinding down to meet his tongue, he could sense the beating of your heart quickening, and lets you do as you please, eyes wide open as he takes in the beautiful, but slightly obstructed sight of you chasing your own pleasure with his face, you being rightfully in your place, Jungkook might as well be the king of this universe, but you are the queen of his world, and a queen deserves the rightful place of a throne, and what better throne than Jungkook himself?

When you finally reach your high, Jungkook rolls your hips for you, helping you ride out your orgasm while stabling you atop of him as you convulse, your knuckles whiten as you let yourself be overtaken by the pleasure coursing through your body, completely undone by Jungkook’s expert hand and mouth, you can feel that he's drinking you in, trying his best to collect your sweet nectar with his tongue, you had to remove yourself on your shaky legs in order for him to give up, chest heaving as your gather your bearings, laying on the bed next to Jungkook.

But soon the man has other plans than letting you rest, Jungkook having an almost wicked smile on his face.

“I can't feel my legs yet, how about I let you use my mouth as an interlude,” you joke, which gets a laugh out of Jungkook.

“It's fine, I can do the heavy lifting first,” Jungkook dismisses before he wraps your legs around his waist, moving you about like a doll before he bends down to place a short and sweet kiss on your lips, the gesture full of love in the midst of your throngs of passion, it never fails to bring a smile on your face when he does this.

Jungkook then leans back to focus on the task on hand, grasping himself, his cock almost painfully hard from enduring through hearing your pleasure, but Jungkook enjoys hearing the way you react to him without any distractions, he's a patient man when it comes to you, well to a certain degree, he thinks to himself as he pumps himself a few times before he finally positions himself at your slit, probing with his cockhead, teasing you, which earns him a few whines and a light thump of your leg on his back before he finally relents, sliding into your heat slowly, his brows furrowed as he focuses on the feeling of being engulfed by your warmth.

You tighten your legs around Jungkook’s waist when you feel the familiar addictive feeling of being filled up, nails digging into Jungkook’s arm.

“Doing so well for me, baby, always so wet for me,” you hear Jungkook say, whispering sweet nothings into your ear until he bottoms out, he hears you panting by his ear as he waits for you to adjust, and in the meantime he takes off your nightgown, letting his eyes wander, basking in on all your naked glory.

“We've been doing this for so many times, and yet you're still so entranced,” you comment as you watch the way his huge eyes trace every little bit of your skin.

“I'd never be bored of the sight of you, especially when you're on top of me,” Jungkook says as his hands join in on the mix, tracing every curve on your body, making you shiver from the featherlight touches.

“Thought I'd look best like this, under your mercy,” you joke, getting a chuckle out of Jungkook.

“You'll see why in a bit,” Jungkook comments before he gives an experimental thrust, your gasp of pleasure a telltale sign that you're ready for more.

Jungkook starts off with a mild pace before he hears you begging for him to go faster, your legs tightening around him as you fully immerse yourself in the pleasure you're receiving, your body tensing up with the overwhelming amount of pleasure running through your veins, especially when Jungkook lowered his head to capture one of your bosoms into his lips, sucking diligently as hips continue their unforgiving pace, never missing his target of the spot that has your head spinning.

“Close,” you gasp out when you feel the coil in your belly threatening to snap.

Jungkook ceases all movements before pulling out of you gently, he then manoeuvres you on top of him, taking your place on the bed.

“You wanted to know why I prefer the sight of you on top, this is why,” Jungkook says before tilting your head up to look at the mirror he had installed on his ceiling, and true to his words, the sight is a bewitching one, the way your body has a healthy glowy sheen from the exertion, and the way Jungkook is looking up at you, eyes trained on your reflection, the most powerful man in the universe, and his pleasure is at your mercy, and at that moment, you feel like you could strike even the most powerful entity down, Luke Skywalker be damned if he wasn't dead.

“Do you see what I see now? My queen, rightfully on her throne,” Jungkook says after he tips your head back down to stare into your eyes, he needs to get the idea in your head, it should be a crime that you had no idea of how powerful and mesmerising you look on top of him.

Instead of replying him with words, you smash your lips against his, pouring all your love out through it, you rarely initiate such an intense kiss, but soon you hand the reins over to Jungkook, even though you love having power over him, submitting to him is what you enjoy most in your love trysts.

A moan slips from your lips to his when he slips back inside you with a quick adjustment of his hand, the familiar fullness more than welcomed, and Jungkook then immediately sets a rigorous pace, thrusting in an upwards motion while his eyes look into yours, attention unfazed despite his hips working hard to tip the scales of your impending high.

Alas, at the end of the day, Jungkook is only a man, which is why he elicits a giggle out of you when you catch his eyes do a quick sweep of the bouncing motions of your breasts.

“You won't be laughing soon, my love,” Jungkook taunts before he lands a quick spank on one of your cheeks, the sweet tinge of pain nearly sending you over the edge, and seeing the damn smirk on Jungkook’s face, you know damn well he felt you clenching on him.

Jungkook then slows down his pace, switching to slower deeper thrusts that have you clawing his back with long thin marks that he would wear proudly for the days to come.

“I want you to cum, darling,” Jungkook breathes into your ear, sending a shudder running down your back, his voice quiet but still commanding, but what comes next is a surprise, something that merely agreed upon but Jungkook hadn't tested the waters until now.

Jungkook wraps a hand round your neck, not squeezing like you expected him to, but then you feel it, the way your throat constricts by the force lightly, cutting part of your airflow.

“Look up, sweetheart,” Jungkook demands, and you heed, staring at your own lust driven body, the light sheen of sweat making you shimmer under the artificial lights.

“Look at you, right where you belong, on your throne, is my cock treating you well, my Queen?” Jungkook taunts before he stops all airflow for a single second, and that's when you lose it, your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks, a curse stuck at the back of your throat because of Jungkook, but when he ceases control of your breathing, your mind blanks out from the all encompassing pleasure, your legs shake as you feel yourself cumming as if you can't stop, soiling the sheets as Jungkook whispers sweet nothings into your ear about how good you did, a hand slipped down to your clit to rub slow circles onto it to curb you to clench around him tighter before he spills into you with a groan. Jungkook then lays you down on the clean side of the bed, before he retrieves the box of tissues on his nightstand to clean you and himself up quickly, he doesn't want to make a mess on the way to the bathroom, he wants the droid to change the sheets then get out of his hair as soon as possible.

“Don't pull out yet,” you demand with a weakened grab of Jungkook’s arm to get his attention, just in case he can't hear you from how soft you are, Jungkook has you spent tonight if you're being honest.

“Anything for you, my love,” you hear Jungkook say with a kiss to your temple before you feel yourself succumb to sleep.

When you wake up from your much needed slumber, you let yourself some time to just feel and appreciate the fact that you're being held in the arms of the love of your life before extracting yourself from said arms, which is quite the feat when Jungkook is built with all muscles and almost zero fat percentage.

When you finally succeed in escaping his embrace, you sigh lovingly at how peaceful Jungkook looks in his sleep, none of that constant frown that he sports when he's awake and stressed about whatever task he needs to attend to, you think he even resembles a rabbit when he sleeps, all pouty lips and his nose twitching now and then, he's gonna throw a fit if he hears your thoughts now, he hates it when you call him cute, are you still going to do it? Absolutely, but for now, you're gonna let him rest up more.

You're still fresh from the bath Jungkook must've taken with you when you were asleep, so you quickly wash up and pad into the kitchen to get a warm cup of water for the both of you, settling Jungkook’s cup down on his side of the nightstand before you walk to the large floor to ceiling window of his bedroom that overlooks the beautiful garden within the base compound.

“You're gonna fall sick parading around naked in my home like this,” you hear Jungkook say before you turn your head to catch him just as bare as you before he retrieves a blanket from your reading nook armchair to drape around both of you, but you with the added layer of bulging muscles.

“This is considered warm for me, I've been through worse conditions, don't worry,” you say before Jungkook steals your cup out of your hands for a quick sip before putting it on the nearby bookshelf to wrap his arms around you once more.

“I'm sorry I didn't find you sooner,” Jungkook mutters as he snuggles his face into your neck, breathing you in, he loves it when you smell like his body wash.

“It's fine, I was just making a joke out of it, you know, no need to get all wound up over it for me,” you say as you reach back to brush through his hair gently.

“Still, I'm glad you're here, and that all those conditions didn't stop us from meeting. I love you so much,” Jungkook says while he wraps you round his arms even tighter than you thought possible, screw rabbit, he reminds you of one of those giant bone crushing serpents you dealt with in the past.

“I love you too, my love,” you say through staggered breath from how he's almost crushing you, but you let Jungkook enjoy this moment a little longer as you bask in his warmth embrace because all’s well that ends well to end up with Jungkook.

The End.