#this idea has had me by the choke hold for a couple of days now

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine proposing to Shanks

At a bar

You: [brooding over a drink by yourself]

Benn: [comes over and sits next to you, like a concerned papa bear] You've seemed really down lately, what's going on up there in that head of yours?

You: Shanks and I have been together for years, and ... I don't quite know what I was expecting, but I am not happy at the idea of being only his dating partner forever.

Benn: Is this because of the wedding we saw yesterday, down at the Chapple?

You: Sort of, now I know that I'm never going to get a traditional wedding like that, but I would like for him to wife me up.

Benn: You should tell him that because he's never going to come to that conclusion on his own.

You: I know, but I can already picture what his proposal would be like, improvised, sloppy, and probably involving alcohol.

Benn: [mutters to himself] Well, at least you know what you're getting into with him before you marry him.

You: what was that?

Benn: nothing. Can I offer you a piece of advice?

You: [nods]

Benn: Don't wait around for others to do something for you when you could do it a million times better yourself.

You: hmm, thank you for the food for thought.

Two weeks later

Shanks: [tugging on the white collar of his button-up like it's choking him,] Why the hell are they making such a big fuss? Insisting I dress up, just to go on a picnic.

Benn: [straightening his captain's tie] Because they love your dumb ass, for some fucking reason, and they went through the trouble of planning a special night for you two. So you're going to dress up, look nice, stay sober, try to behave, do whatever they say,

Shanks: [mutters] I already do whatever they say

Benn: [gives him the side eye as a warning] And you're going to bring them flowers and this cake.

Shanks: yeah, yeah, it's just it's been ages since we've had time to do something special, we're out of the honeymoon phase, you know? We're like an old married couple, we only have sex once a week and everything.

Benn: Oh, I know, we can hear you two in the crew's quarters, we appreciate that it's the same day every week too. [puts the flowers and box of cake in Shanks's hands] Now get going, if you're late I'll kill you myself.

Shanks: Alright, don't shove.

At the docks

You: wow, you made it on time.

Shanks: I wouldn't be late for our first date in over a year.

You: [winces at the reminder]

Shanks: [realizes he's made things awkward, he holds out his gifts] Uh, these are for you.

You: [can see Benn's meddling] Thank you, but we're actually going to have to wait for the boat to get here. I took your habit of arriving late into account when I made the plans, and the time I told you to come was forty-five minutes before you actually needed to be here.

Shanks: [puts his arm over your shoulder and presses a kiss to your head] You know me so well, and no worries if we have to wait, just means that I get more time with you, my love.

On the boat

Shanks: [looks around the glass bottom boat in amazement] Whoa! Look look! There's a tiger shark.

You: I knew you'd like it, we have it all to ourselves tonight. We'll sail around the reefs, and have dinner.

Shanks: we get to eat.

You: yes, they have your favorite, you can even pick out which lobster you'd like to eat.

After dinner

the boat captain: excuse me, we've landed on Firefly Island, you'll have two hours before we raise anchor and head back to the port.

You: thank you, [turns to Shanks, grabs his hand, and leads him to the heart of the island where all the fireflies are]

Shanks: [visibly resisting the urge to run around and chase them]

You: [rolls your eyes playfully] Go ahead, I know you wanna run, go get your energy out. Why don't you run around the edge of the clearing and herd them this way? [sits on a stone bench beside the pond in the center of the meadow]

Shanks: [kisses your cheek] aye aye

You: [waits until he's tuckered himself out, and has collapsed on the bench next to you] Sweetheart, are you having fun?

Shanks: the most fun I have had in a while, look at this jar of fireflies I caught. [holds up a large mason jar, packed with the luminescent insects] I know if I leave them in there too long, they'll die, but I wanted you to get to open it.

You: [gets down on one knee, positions the ring box on the side of the jar and unscrews the lid to let critters free]

Shanks: Isn't it pretty? [looks down at the jar to see the box on the other side of the jar] What'cha got there?

You: [sets the jar aside and opens the box to reveal the ring inside]

Shanks: [freezes]

You: ... I know I'm not going to get a fancy wedding in a place of worship or even a marriage certificate, but I would still like you to marry me. For us to be marriage partners, even if it's only in name.

Shanks: wh-... how ... [pulls out the ring and slides it onto his finger] it fits and everything.

You: [waiting for an answer]

Shanks: [notices your staring] what?

You: will you marry me?

Shanks: [pulls you into his lap, and kisses you] Of course I'll marry you, and no you're probably not going to get a fancy wedding, and you're definitely not going to get a marriage certificate. But I promise you, you'll get one hell of a wedding.

You: Thank you, love. [peers over to see Benn sopping wet in the bushes, taking pictures with a camera snail] Benn, what are you doing?

Benn: getting engagement photos, obviously.

Shanks: how did you get here?

Benn: I swam, now you two stop moving, so I can take a picture before these fireflies can eat the camera.

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

[hypewinter]

I've had a brainworm for a few days now so here me out.

After an accidental reveal gone wrong, Danny is forced to flee the country with both his parents and the giw after him. While he's trying to find some place internationally to settle down, he comes across a secluded complex.

Said complex happens to have access to an ectoplasm run off which Danny is in desperate need of. Though it has been corrupted by whatever the people of the complex have been doing to it, that's no problem for Danny as he can easily purify the portion he takes in to survive.

Deciding this is the perfect place to live off the grid, Danny sets to work figuring out how to blend in. It turns out that's the easy part. With his temporary stint as a ninja, his training with his black belt mom, and his general ghost physiology, he fits in pretty well.

He fits in so well in fact that he is told he'll be training someone one of the head bosses has their eye on. A kid his age.

Basically what follows is Danny accidentally ruining Talia's plans for Jason by unconsciously purifying his corruption and just talking him through his emotions. When Jason gets back to Gotham, he returns without a clouded mentally and realizes just how much Bruce went through after his death.

Instead of unleashing his complicated plan, he quietly takes over the underworld. He loves his father but also knows there are situations in Gotham that require a more firm hand. Jason decides to be a firm hand in his dad's place.

(I imagine he is only revealed on accident yet his reunion with his family is just as dramatic as Under the Red Hood. Tbh it probably has something to do with the joker suddenly going missing.)

Meanwhile back at the League of Assassins, Talia is impressed by Jason's training and is under the impression that his failure in Gotham is due to him getting cold feet at the last second so she puts Danny in charge of Damian's training.

Danny this time takes a more conscious role in ruining the league's brainwashing by challenging Damian's beliefs and teaching him he should use his weapons to protect, not to harm. By the time Damian gets to Wayne Manor, there is significantly less deprogramming that needs to be done.

[spdrwdw]

Pairing: Dom!Miguel x Virgin!Sub!f!reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral-m/f receiving, hair pulling, choking, unprotected intercourse, no use of y/n

Summary: You and Miguel have been together for over a year, however, you have never been sexually intimate with him, nor with anyone, actually. You were a virgin. Miguel never seemed to mind, in fact, he's been rather patient with you. However, you believe now is the time to experience your first time with him.

A/N: this is my first Miguel fic! I do hope everyone enjoys it. I do have some ideas for more future fics. And I am currently taking requests. Also, thank you to @thel0velykey190 for the request. Note: this fic has not been proofread so apologies for any grammatical errors. *Translation for Spanish words/phrases and sentences will be at the end

Word Count: 2.7k

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.

“Wait, wait, wait! Are you sure about this? Like, one hundred percent sure?” Miguel asked you, eyes wide and brows raised.

You looked at him with determination and nodded your head. “Yes. Yes, I am sure. I’m ready for this, Miguel.” You have been pondering about this for days. Weeks, even. It was time. You were tired of your toys. They didn’t satisfy you anymore. But, you were certain that Miguel would. You knew he would. And he knew it as well.

Miguel stared at you for a moment, trying to find a hint of doubt in your expression, but he found none. And honestly, he was glad. He had been waiting months for this day. He was surprised he had such patience. Yet, with you, he would wait forever. 

He reached for your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before he stood up from your living room couch, still holding onto your hand as he waited for you to follow him. “Okay. Let’s go.”

You got up and led him to your bedroom, feeling butterflies in your stomach. This was really happening. This is it. You were finally going to do it.

You were going to lose your virginity. To Miguel. 

You’ve been dating each other for about a year and a half, and you had yet to be intimate with him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. It was simply because well, you were a virgin. You have given each other oral countless of times, but, whenever things got too steamy and there was a chance of intercourse, you always stopped him. Miguel was experienced. Of course he was. And you trusted him. But, you were afraid that you wouldn’t be enough for him.

“Nena, look at me,” Miguel spoke softly, pulling you from your thoughts as he cupped your face with his hands. 

“Don’t be afraid. Okay? Let me do all the work. I’ll be gentle,” he assured you before you shook your head.

“Don’t be gentle,” you told him. Miguel had confessed to you how he liked being rough. You wanted to experience it. Even on your first try.

“But-,” he started before you cut him off. 

“I trust you, Miguel.”

He looked at you for a moment before nodding his head and led you to your bed before you suddenly sunk down to your knees in front of him, looking up at him through your lashes. You could’ve sworn you heard a low rumble coming from his throat. Miguel was easy to get riled up. And it made you feel a sense of pride. 

He watched you as you removed his jeans, slipping them down to his ankles before he stepped out of them. The outline of his bulging cock was seen through his boxers. You continued to look up at him before you began to palm his bulge, earning a groan from him in response. 

“Don’t be such a tease, nena,” he breathed.

And while you did love to tease him and make him whither under your touch, today wasn’t the day for that. So, you pulled his boxers down, letting his cock spring free and present itself in all its glory. The sight made your mouth water. 

Taking him in your hand, you began to pump him, earning a couple of moans from him. 

“Come on, pretty girl, I need that skilled mouth of yours,” Miguel rasped, a smirk lifting his lips as you made eye contact.

You did as you were told, opening your mouth wide, with your tongue sticking out and ready for him. Guiding his cock into your mouth, you gave the tip a couple of licks, feeling the saltiness of his precum on your tongue. It made your panties wet instantly. 

It wasn’t long until you had him groaning and growling. You were bobbing your head, taking in as much of him as you could.Your hand pumping along what you couldn’t take in your mouth. 

You felt a hand on the back of your head, lightly tugging at your hair, forcing you to look up and keep eye contact with him.

“That’s it. Just like that. Lo haces tan bien, nena. You take my cock in your mouth so well. I can’t wait to see how you take it in that virgin pussy,” he growled. 

“Así. Chúpelo.”

His comment made you whimper onto his cock.

You could feel a bit of wetness pooling onto your panties from his words, imagining how he was going to feel inside you. How he would stretch you out so deliciously. 

Swirling your tongue around his cock, you continued bobbing your head, Miguel’s cock twitching slightly in your mouth. When you grazed the shaft with your teeth, Miguel let out a raspy moan, tilting his head back. 

“Keep going, nena. Just like that. Just like that for me,” he growled. 

You continued with your work, taking in as much of him as you could til you felt the tip hitting the back of your throat, causing your eyes to water. You knew he was getting close as he felt him twitching again. 

“Hold that pretty head still for me,” Miguel ordered, and of course, you did as you were told. He gripped onto your hair a little tighter, keeping you still as he fucked into your mouth. You kept your jaw slacked for as long as you could before he pulled out of your mouth and came on your face with a grunt. Keeping your mouth open and tongue out, you caught the streams of cum, licking up and swallowing every bit of it. 

Miguel then picked you up like you weighed nothing and laid you down on the bed. He removed the remainder of his clothing before doing the same with you.

You let out a soft gasp as his lips began trailing down your body, giving you goosebumps. 

Miguel always worshiped your body any way he could. 

As he made his way further down, he pushed your legs apart, hoisting them over his shoulders as he made his way to your aching, wet core. Licking his lips, he spread your pussy with his long fingers, groaning at the sight of your wetness. Your smell was intoxicating to him and it made his mouth water. 

“Miguel,” you whimpered out his name just before feeling his tongue lapping over your folds, licking and sucking and slurping your juices. He was a man starved. 

You quickly became a whimpering, moaning mess underneath him, hearing the sounds of him just slurping up your pussy like it was some sweet. You could feel his teeth grazing at your bundle of nerves, tongue swirling around and slipping into your pussy. 

Grabbing onto his hair, you gave it a tug, bucking your hips against his face, needing more. 

“Miguel, please!” You cried out. “I need you, please.”

“Need you to cum on my face first,nena,”Miguel muttered against your pussy, keeping his brutal pace with his mouth and tongue. 

You let out a whine, tugging onto his hair as you continued to grind his face, feeling that familiar heat pooling in your lower abdomen. Your thighs began to quiver a bit, back arching. 

He then quickly slipped a finger inside of you, then another, then he had three of his fingers inside you, pumping into your pussy. 

“Miguel!” You gasped, feeling him curling his fingers, hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars. 

“Need to stretch you out. Gotta get you nice and ready for my cock.”

You bit your lip, feeling his tongue and fingers overstimulating you. It wasn't much longer until you came. 

Crying out his name, you did as he had desired, spilling yourself all over his face, feeling his warm tongue licking you all up without wasting a single drop of you. You needed more. You were aching for him. You were ready. 

Miguel crawled over your body, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your skin before kissing you feverishly on your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue. 

He kneaded your breasts with his hands, pinching and tugging at the nipples, making you cry out into his mouth. 

"M-Miguel..please..” you started to beg, trying to grind your drenched pussy against his swollen cock. You didn’t want to wait any longer. 

A low rumble was heard coming from the back of Miguel’s throat from your movements. You were soaking his cock with your never-ending flow of juices. He wasn’t going to be able to stall much longer. 

Lifting his head up to look at you, he licked his lips. Normally, he would’ve gotten on with it already. But, this was you. You were his girlfriend. His most treasured person. He wanted this to be the best experience possible for you. 

Despite the lust-filled look in his eyes, he still looked at you with a bit of concern. He wanted to make sure you were really positive about this. He could wait. He would wait a lifetime for you.

You could see the hint of concern on his face and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down. 

“I’m ready, Miguel,” you assured him, giving him a sweet kiss on the lips. “Go ahead.”

Nodding his head, he did as instructed. He pushed your legs apart and aligned himself to your entrance, teasing you with his swollen tip, causing you to moan. 

Ever so slowly, he began to push himself into you, causing you to let out a gasp as you felt his cock stretching you out. 

“You okay?” He asked, stalling his movements. Last thing he was gonna do was force himself into you. 

You nodded your head. You didn’t want him to stop. 

“Relax for me, mi alma. I need you to relax. I’ll be able to slide in more smoothly,” he told you, caressing your cheek before he slowly began to push himself in. 

You did your best to relax. But holy shit he was huge! You thought he was gonna rip you in half. 

But, after a blink of an eye, he was seated comfortably inside of you. “There you go,” he breathed. 

“I’m gonna start moving, okay?”

You just nodded your head. 

Miguel started to move, slowly at first, checking in on you before he gradually increased speed. 

Until he was fucking you into the mattress. 

“Oh, Miguel!” You cried out, clawing at his back as he thrusted hard and deep inside of you, his hand wrapped around your throat. 

Your eyes were rolled back, your back arched. This was your first time and it felt so so glorious. 

“Like that, nena? Like it when I fuck you like a little slut?” Miguel growled, very pleased that you were taking him so well. 

“Y-yes!” You sobbed as he lightly tightened his grip around your throat. 

“Fuck! This pussy is so tight and delicious. Sucking me in,” he growled. 

He glanced down to where your bodies met, seeing how his cock disappeared into your pussy. He was going balls deep, smacking them against your ass. The sound of skin to skin filled the room. 

“Miguel!” You cried out his name, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to your release. 

“I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for me, nena. Let it out,” he rasped against your ear. 

“Want this cock drenched with you. Gonna fill this pussy up so good with my seed.”

You whimpered, closing your eyes before you felt a hand gripping your face. “Look at me. I want those pretty eyes open while I fill you up,” he ordered. 

You opened them and stared up at him, not daring to break eye contact. His gaze made your pussy clench, causing you to let out a mewl. His thrusts quickened, knowing that you were teetering on the edge. Just a little more and..you came with a cry, singing his name. 

Miguel moaned out your name, feeling your walls fluttering around him as you climaxed. 

He gave you a couple more thrusts, his movements growing sloppy before he came inside you.The feeling was like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It felt warm as he filled you up with his cum, causing you to let out a soft gasp, eyes wide.

Miguel slowly began to pull out of you once he was done, before you grabbed onto his wrist and shook your head. 

“Again.”

“A-Again?” Miguel repeated in question, eyes growing wide. 

“Yes. I..I really liked it,” you admitted, blushing a bit as you averted your gaze.

 Miguel stared at you for a moment before he finally let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head. “You are going to be the death of me, nena.”

And so, a second time became a third, which then became a fourth. 

Miguel had you face down and ass up as he rammed into your swollen, sore pussy. Filled to the brim already with his seed. You let out muffled cries, your face planted into a pillow as Miguel hit that sweet spot again and again.

“¡Mierda! Had I known you were gonna love this so much..” he muttered through gritted teeth. 

“Who knew you’d be such a little slut for me, nena. It’s so sexy.” 

Now that you were comfortable with sex and Miguel’s size, he wasn’t going to hold back. You had broken the dam. 

“Now I’m gonna get to have my way with you whenever I want, right?”

You only let out a muffled moan in response right before Miguel grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head up, leaning down over your back as he continued his harsh thrusts. 

“What was that?” He smirked, giving your ass a smack. 

You let out a cry at the sting of his hand before nodding your head, feeling tears pricking from your eyes. “Y-yes!” You sobbed out before letting out a moan. 

“That’s my girl,” Miguel growled, pressing you down onto the mattress to muffle your loud moans. 

“You gonna cum for me, nena? Cum for me, pretty girl. Sé que puedes hacerlo. You did it three times already. Just give me one more and I’ll let you rest.”

You muffled a whine in response before Miguel grabbed you by the neck, wrapping a hand around your throat and lifted your head up. “Shh, not so loud. You’ll wake up the neighbors.”

“Miguel, please,” you whimpered. You could feel yourself getting closer to your climax.

“Miguel!”

Miguel grunted out your name, his free hand wrapping around your lower body, finding your clit and began to it feverishly. 

“Cum for me. I want those sweet juices all around my cock, babygirl.”

Gripping onto the bed sheets, you came with a lewd moan, doing as you were told and covered Miguel with your climax as he continued to pivot his hips against you. The sweet sounds of skin hitting against skin, the sounds of his full balls hitting against your pussy, made you immediately orgasm again. 

“Such a good little slut you are. Fuck, you’re so perfect,” Miguel growled before he emptied his seed inside of you yet again, filling you up til your overflowed. 

Panting, you lifted your head up a bit and glanced behind you as Miguel slowly pulled himself out of you with a soft sigh. He caught your gaze and his look of lust faded away, giving you a gentle smile. 

“I do think that’s enough for tonight, hmm?”

He laid down beside you, wrapping her arms around you and pulled you to his chest. 

“Feeling okay?”

You nodded your head, letting out a shaky breath before smiling. “Yeah. I feel fine. Gonna be hella sore in the morning, but..” you shrugged.

Miguel laughed and nodded his head in agreement. “I suppose we did get a little carried away.”

“I liked it, though,” you admitted, feeling your face growing warm.

“Better than your toys?” Miguel questioned with a smirk.

“Oh, so much better,” you giggled, nodding your head. 

“Thank you for being so patient with me, Miguel. And..I’m sorry I had you wait so long.”

He shook his head.”No, mi alma, don’t say that. I would’ve waited a lifetime for you. You know that. Yeah, I may have had my urges now and then but, you were definitely worth waiting for.”

He gave you a kiss on the forehead before pecking your lips a couple of times. “Get some sleep now. You’re gonna need the rest,” he stated with a chuckle.

Nodding your head, you nuzzled up against him and closed your eyes, letting sleep consume you. 

Who knew you’d end up becoming addicted to sex.

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.

*nena -babe

*Lo haces tan bien, nena. - You do it so well, babe.

*Así. Chúpelo. - Like that. Suck it. 

*¡Mierda! -Shit!

* Sé que puedes hacerlo. -I know you can do it.

*mi alma- mi soul

[strawberryya]

notice me!

pairing: jihoon x reader

synopsis: Your boyfriend has a hectic life, but he usually has at least a little time to spare for his girlfriend. Now it has been two months since he last spent some alone time with you and you're losing your mind just a little over it... luckily, angry make-up sex can solve any problem!

word count: 2.1k

genre/cw: smut, angry sex, also make-up sex, established relationship, feeling neglected in relationship and bad ways of handling said feeling, unprotected sex, manhandling, light choking, fem reader, musician/producer! woozi.

rating: 18+

a/n: I had a moment a couple weeks ago where I wrote this whole thing in one hour in the middle of the night, and then I forgot about it and now I'm in shock just a little bit... anyhow, yay angry sex with wooziiii

network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main

[navigation post!]

You watched your boyfriend of two years looking at his phone, scrolling mindlessly across whatever app he found more interesting than his girlfriend sitting on the other end of the couch. You were barely wearing anything, a large t-shirt barely covering the sexy lingerie you had put on for tonight. 

“Jihoon, it’s been two months.” 

You wanted him to notice you. He had barely been home at your shared apartment for weeks. You knew his work was demanding, and that he gave it his all no matter what. But you have been feeling neglected lately. He had been coming home late, crashing on the couch instead of sleeping in your bed. Only giving you a chaste kiss before running off to work the next morning with a groggy “Sorry I missed dinner last night,” as a greeting. 

He hadn’t touched you in two months. You had counted the days, and after three weeks you were wondering if he wasn’t stressing too much about the latest album. After six weeks you had been feeling too horny for your own good, and your toys weren’t fulfilling your needs anymore. You wanted to feel him again. It didn’t matter how many times you came. It didn’t hit the spot. After two entire months of him being abstinent, you had begun getting snarky at the smallest things he did wrong. 

Jihoon looked up from his phone at your statement. He carelessly scratched his chin, making your pussy clench at the memory of those perfect hands being all over your body once upon a time. “Two months? Of what?” 

“Of you acting like a damn nun,” you said, dead serious. 

“A nun?!” He gasped out. 

“Yes! A nun!” You shouted back at him. 

He looked you over, sitting at the other end of the couch, dolled up more than usual and staring at him as if he had offended yuo great grandmother by existing. Then it seemed to click in his mind. “Oh,” was all he said.

Two months? Had it been that long? He knew very well that he had been resisting his urges, but he had managed for two entire months? He had been so busy with the new album, he had been staying late at the studio every day and waking up rushing back to the studio to put the new ideas he got during the night into reality. Two months without sex, and a pissed off girlfriend because of it. 

“I’m sorry?” 

You looked at him like he was an equation, mouth open just a bit as you stared at him in shock. “You’re sorry? What the fuck does that mean?” He was so clueless, you thought as you watched the dumb face he was making. (You still wanted that stupid handsome face of his to eat you out until you cried, but that was besides the point.)

Jihoon knew he had fucked up, you were pissed off and picking a fight, and he hadn’t made it better by not even knowing that he hadn’t slept with you in two whole months. 

“Do you even care? Because you don’t seem to care one bit about it since you didn’t even know! Do you not like me anymore? Are you not attracted to me anymore? Are you in love with someone else? Why the fuck would you go and cheat on me?!”

He stared at you in complete surprise. Cheating? “Hold up- hold up! What are you talking about?!” He said, flabbergasted at the way you seemed to have drawn the most far-fetched conclusions to this problem you could’ve possibly thought of. “I’ve been busy with the comeback! Please, baby, why are you acting crazy?” 

He shouldn’t have said that, he knew it the second the word left his perfectly plump lips. 

“Crazy? Did you just call me crazy? You haven’t seen crazy, you fucking asshole!” You shouted as you stormed out of the room. You were packing your bags, if he didn’t want to be with you anymore you wouldn’t be the one to stop him from moving on and sleeping with whoever else he wanted. Because it sure as hell wouldn’t be you after he had just called you crazy for noticing that he wasn’t interested in you anymore. 

“What are you doing?? Why are you messing up the apartment? Are you leaving?” he shouted, seemingly surprised that you didn’t feel like staying in an apartment that he was hellbent on making a girlfriend-free zone. 

“Yeah, I’m fucking leaving,” you grunt, shoving some shirts into your bag. You wouldn’t be able to grab it all but at least you could make it with the stuff you were throwing into it for a while. Y9ou could always borrow your friends’ stuff until you could get back all your clothes. “You’re pissing me off and I don’t wanna hate you.”

Jihoon was by the bedroom door now, hands pushing his hair out of his face as he watched you angrily packing your bags. How had he fucked up so badly that his girlfriend wanted to leave him like this? 

“Hate me? Baby, I really don’t know what I did to mess up this bad…” 

Of course, he didn’t understand, because apparently, your boyfriend was a freaking master at staying “pure”. He hadn’t even spent a single thought on you and what he could do with you. He only cared about his music. And you wouldn’t be the one to stand in his way if thats how he truly felt. 

“You don’t know?! Look at me Jihoon!” You threw the t-shirt off your body in an angry fit, making your boyfriend’s eyes widen. “I’ve been waiting for you to notice me, to care even a bit about me- about us- for months!! And tonight, I just can’t do this anymore. I’m losing my mind because you won’t fuck me, how stupid is that?” You nearly sobbed as you made it clear that you were frustrated in more than one way. You were so mad at him, and still, you couldn’t help but admire the way he looked so hot even now, his long black hair falling in pretty curls around his face and his lips shiny and pink. He looked so kissable it was like he was teasing you just by existing. 

“You got me all addicted to your cock and then you fucking left me to go through some kind of twisted withdrawal.” 

He gulped, his adam's apple moving in his throat, you didn’t even care to look at him anymore, you were angrily throwing your shit into the bag on the bed yet again, bent over and flaunting the tiny piece of fabric that tried it’s best to cover your ass. “You don’t even care,” you rumbled as you stuffed more things into the bag. He took in the way the lace set hugged your curves deliciously, he had been so busy with everything he hadn’t even noticed his own cravings. He had ignored it all for so long. 

“Shut up.”

His voice was deep, and commanding. Your breath caught in your throat, surprise and need mixing in an arousing blend that went straight to your head. “Excuse me?” Your movements paused completely. When you heard his footsteps approaching you hastily you looked at him, his gaze was darkened, and your core clenched around nothing as he pulled the bag from your grasp. Throwing it on the ground before he pushed your barely clothed body into the bed. 

“You think I don’t fucking care anymore just because you haven’t gotten dick in a couple weeks? Are you that desperate to be stretched like a little whore?” He growled in your ear, his bulge evident in the way he pressed against your ass. “I care, and I see you. So shut up.” 

You gasped at his harsh movements, neediness soaking your panties in record time. God, you were pathetic. 

“I haven’t eaten, I haven’t slept, and I sure as hell haven’t let myself even think about this sweet pussy of yours. I’ve been denying myself it all. But you’re right…” his hand pressed against your throat where you laid face down on the bed, “I’ve been neglecting you. You wanna know why? It’s because I knew that if I so much as looked at you, or held you in my arms while you slept so innocently, I wouldn’t be able to help myself. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything but fuck your tight little pussy all day and night.” His growling voice set off all kinds of sparks in your core. You needed him, now. 

You pushed your ass up against him, eating a groan from your boyfriend. “Such a little slut,” he mumbled, letting go of your throat and pulling himself back from you completely. You were dizzy from the hold around your throat, his perfect hands remembering just the way you liked to feel them around you. You were about to whine when his touch left your body when you heard the familiar shuffling of his clothes falling off his body. You wanted to see it, take his form in properly after all these weeks. But he was faster, pushing you back down against the bed before you got up. 

His erection pressed against your heat, making you moan as he prodded against the soaked fabric covering your entrance. 

“Jihoon, please,” you mewled, wiggling underneath his firm body. 

“Wanna shut up and let me fuck you then since you’re so fucking needy?” 

“Please, yes! Anything! Please fuck me!” You almost cried as you pleaded with him. 

“Sobbing over cock, you really are such a dirty girl for me.” He groaned as he let his pretty hands smooth over one of your asscheeks, smacking down hard and leaving a burning sting after him. Even that felt good. You needed him more than you had ever needed anything in your life. 

You felt him pull the sticky fabric from your core, pushing it aside in favor of pushing the head of his hard cock against your messy pussy. “I’m about to drown in you later tonight, just you wait.” He whispered before pushing past your entrance, slipping inside, your walls lubing his cock up as he entered. He ignored the way you were so tight it almost hurt to push all the way inside, your moaned pleas for him to go deeper, and the way you were gripping the sheets while he pushed all of himself inside of your dripping heat enough of a reason to push through. It had been so long since he had felt your walls gripping around him that he could’ve spilled his seed into you right then and there. 

He pulled himself together soon enough, thrusting into you at a brutal pace. Your ass which you had pushed up to meet his hips at first had been completely overpowered by the sheer force he was fucking you into the mattress with. You were coming for the first time within minutes. Screaming and sobbing as you finally came around him. He continued, repeating to you what a good toy you were, and how good of a girl you had been for holding out for him this long. 

When you were moaning again, closing in on a second orgasm he told you to come again. Lifting your ass up to balance you on your knees and chest, one of his arms wrapping around your hip to reach your clit, pressing down on it while he let his cock slip in and out effortlessly. Your arousal dripped down your thighs. You came undone and sobbed as he continued to overstimulate your abused cunt. 

He continued fucking you until he couldn’t take it anymore, his own orgasm crashing into him with such force it knocked the breath from his lungs. 

“That was one hell of an apology,” you said, breathless and still leaking cum, exhausted after having all your pent-up frustrations released all at once like this. 

Jihoon chuckled, a sound you had missed these past weeks as well. He really had been unusually absent in your life. It wasn’t just about the sex, you had missed him a lot. “I’m sorry for not being around as much,” he said, dragging a gentle hand over your back. You hadn’t had the energy to move a once from the position he had dropped your hips from once he had pulled out. 

“I just missed you, I’m sorry for lashing out.” 

“Don’t worry about it, just… next time you should just ask me to fuck you instead of threatening to leave me.”

You were embarrassed now, you had acted like a complete maniac, but my god - if that’s how he fucked a maniac, you wanted to stay crazy for the rest of eternity. 

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

[navigation post!]

[bkgml]

more exes to lovers bc i LOVE!! but this time angsty-er 😈 into fluff tho bc i just can’t resist!

“hey…” bakugou spoke into the phone, trying not to get choked up.

“bakugou..? what is it? whats wrong?” you said cautiously.

he sighed upset and a little thankful at the fact you could read him so clearly.

“i’m at the hospital, something went wrong when i was fighting the villains. i-“ he couldn’t take this; feeling so weak and helpless.

“they said i wasn’t allowed to drive home and i don’t want my shitty friends seeing me all fuckin weak.”

“i’m on my way. just relax okay? you’re strong katsuki we both know it” you say as you put on your shoes and grab your keys.

katsuki sighs a thankful sigh into the phone

“…will you stay on the shitty phone with me?”

you laugh, though you’re not mocking him, he knows you aren’t.

“i’ll stay on the phone, promise. ten minutes away, okay?

katsuki sighs again, feeling awful that you had to get out of bed in the middle of the night for someone you thought you were done with months ago.

“hey… just want you to know i don’t regret… us. only regret is the way we ended.”

you pause, worried you shouldn’t give into him.

“i know.” you say.

he sighs again. why are you making him sound so venerable dammit!

“do you..? you know, regret it- us?”

this is happening too fast, you can’t just forgive him this quickly. it’s been 4 months. you were moving on (you weren’t but you’re trying).

“i’m almost here.”

bakugou knows asked one too many questions too fast.

“okay…”

“i just pulled in where are you?”

bakugou gets into the car. he’s bruised and beaten. there’s a cast on his arm and he’s covered in soot. the cut on his lip you saw him with on the news last week has split open and he has a black eye.

“i’m here.”

you inhale shakily, reaching out and brushing some ash off his forehead.

“what happened to you?” bakugou has only heard your voice this small and timid once: the day he broke up with you.

“told you, stupid villains.”

you clear your throat. brushing away any feelings attempting to bubble up to the surface.

“fine. let’s get you home then.”

“fine.” you scoff and bakugou immediately regrets his tone. this is why you broke up with him, he thinks. this attitude he has. the silence is loud the rest of the ride home.

“this is it, right?” you say, still a little peeved at his tone from before.

“yeah.”

the two of you get out of the car.

bakugou knows he shouldn’t say what he’s about to say. this is why you left. his brain just wants him mouth to listen to him for once.

“well goodnig-“ “-do you want to come in?”

you stop stunned.

“bakugou-“

“listen i’m not doing what you think, i’m not trying to get sex out of this i swear.”

you pause, still processing.

“that’s not what i’m worried about.” you state.

bakugou waits confused.

“then what?”

“i’m worried that i’m going to go in there and you’ll have a shower and come out smelling all nice and you’ll put on those sweatpants i like with no shirt. then you’ll ask to hold me ‘just for tonight’. and you’ll kiss my hair and rub my back, and i’ll be head over heels for you all over again.” you breathe out.

“i don’t deserve this, katsuki. you’re just going to mess it up all over again and i cant go through this cycle a million times before we realize that we just don’t work right now. it’s not the right time for us. no matter how much we want it to be.”

you’re both tearing up at this point. he had no idea you could read him this well.

“i’m sorry, baby.”

“please don’t call me that.” you choke on your words. you knew you shouldn’t have come over here.

bakugou wipes his face, trying to compose himself, to not let the tears fall.

“i want to make this work. i don’t want to tiptoe around you and pretend i’m not the mean guy who hurt you. i want to be able to call you stupid fucking nicknames again without care and i want to make you laugh again.”

wow. he’s really not making this easy for you. you sigh before speaking.

“how about… you try again in a couple weeks. maybe i’ll let you call me a ‘stupid fucking nickname’ again.” you say in your best bakugou impression.

“a couple weeks, huh?”

“mhm. too long of a wait for you?” you tease, starting to fall back into your old ways.

“it’s never too long for you…. dumbass.” he tests the waters with a nickname he gave you before you started dating. one that makes his words seem a little less vulnerable from his perspective.

you laugh. a real fuckin laugh that he hasn’t gotten to hear in forever.

“alright… ‘dumbass’.” you say, still laughing.

“a couple weeks?” he asks.

“yes, a couple weeks.”

“okay…” he doesn’t want to leave your side but he won’t push you just yet.

“night.” he turns on his heel and gets his keys.

“g’night… ‘dumbass’.” you say, sending yourself into another fit of giggles and getting in your car.

as you drive off katsuki is grinning to himself.

the night turned out all right after all.

EEEEK you guys!! my first angsty post! and i made this little divider thingy with dynamy! i think it’s so cute personally i hope you like. :)

[babydollmarauders]

SILENT NIGHT — MATTHEW TKACHUK

matthew tkachuk x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which Matthew agrees to walk around their neighborhood to look at holiday lights… with a catch

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, praise, slight exhibitionism, choking, daddy kink, p in v (unprotected). (2.8k words)

notes: welcome to day 6 of my 12 days of kinkmas! this is my first time ever writing for matty, so i apologize if it’s iffy.

i should’ve known nothing with Matthew could be done with pure relaxation in mind.

i thought it would be nice, a relaxing walk around the neighborhood, hand in hand like normal couples as we look at all the christmas lights that decorate each house.

but i didn’t take into account that my boyfriend is, to put it lovingly, a freak.

a relaxing walk? no, thank you, not for him. instead, he has to make things… interesting.

so here i am, hand grasping Matthew’s tightly as i walk next to him, the side of my body pressed to his, and soft breathy moans escaping my lips as he smirks beside me.

i begged him all day since he got home from his roadie to get him to agree to this walk, and he kept saying he ‘wasn’t feeling it’. until he came up with his one term, a stupid term that i stupidly agreed with.

“Matty, c’mon!” i whisper pleadingly, a shiver wracking my body from both the cold air that rises up my jacket, and the vibrations that press against my clit, controlled by the little remote that my boyfriend plays around with in his coat pocket.

“uh-uh.” he teasingly denies, turning the vibrator in my panties down a level.

the dark sky looms up above us, stars barely visible, but it doesn’t matter to me because my eyes are fixated on the bright lights that adorn each house. reds, greens, white’s, and blue’s; blow up santa’s in a few lawns; light up reindeer in others.

though it’s not snowing like it would’ve in Calgary, i’ve gotten so used to the warm Florida weather that now that it’s winter, the nip of chill in the air makes the tip of my nose red.

my teeth sink into my bottom lip so hard that i fear i’ll draw blood, attempting to hold in my sounds as we walk past another couple that must’ve had the same idea to look at the lights.

Matthew smiles politely as we pass, not giving off any hints that we’re doing anything beyond admiring the beautiful lights; but once we’re far enough away, i hear the click of a button of the remote a few times, the vibrations of the toy that’s pressed snugly against my clit rising in intensity.

my legs stop, my hand that’s tangled in Matty’s tugging him back as he continues to walk, and my jaw drops open as i let out a loud, squeaky whine.

“shhh!” he reminds me. he hastily takes two big steps forward, stopping in front of me.

his hand rises to cup my cheek, tilting my head up to look at him, his eyes glinting with a dangerous mixture of mischief and lust.

“you gotta be quiet. don’t want anyone to hear you, do you, sweetheart?” his head tilts in questioning, an eyebrow raising as he awaits my response.

i’m quiet for a moment, listening to the silence of the night before i respond.

“no, Matty.” i shake my head as my boyfriend nods his in approval, tangling his arm through mine.

he urges me along, my feet shuffling slowly across the cement as i attempt to simultaneously walk and clench my thighs together. leaning down, his lips ghost against the shell of my ear, his heated breath fanning against my cold skin, sending chills down my spine, my eyelids fluttering closed as i let him guide me.

“you’re being such a good girl for me,” his voice is deep but spoken in a hushed whisper, his hand splaying out against the small of my back. “looking at me with those pretty eyes, just desperate to cum.”

his free hand slips back into his pocket, the vibrator suddenly switching to the lowest setting, making me whimper in response.

“not yet.” Matthew tsk’s shaking his head as he resumes the walk, guiding me along down the sidewalk.

he glances down at me, flashing a bright and innocent smile; as though he isn’t holding the essential key to my orgasm in the palm of his hand; as though he isn’t torturing me with pleasure in this very moment.

his eyes flit up, gazing behind me, and entirely too quickly, his smile turns mischievous, a playful glimmer in his eyes.

“hey, look,” he sing-songs, “there’s sasha’s house. and the lights are on! we should stop by and say hello, shouldn’t we?”

he nods his head towards the house behind me, “we’ve been meaning to invite him over for Christmas dinner, right?”

his hand slips into mine, pulling me along towards his captain’s house, and my eyes widen, shaking my head.

“no!” i try to speak lowly, but my word turns into a soft moan as the vibration against my clit gains intensity. we get all the way across the street before i can speak again, “Matthew!”

he halts in his tracks, turning towards me with a raised brow at the disuse of his nickname.

“i am not going to face your captain right now!” a cheeky grin spreads across my boyfriend’s face, teeth on full display, and i already know he’s about to test my limits.

“why not?” he questions playfully, biting his lips to hold back a chuckle.

“y-you know why not!” i hiss back, my hips jerking slightly as he lowers the intensity of the toy just a little, “i am not facing him with a fucking vibrator in my underwear!”

“hmm,” Matty hums, nodding understandingly, but his lips still hold a mocking smile. his finger hooks under my chin, tipping my head back to look into my eyes, “well then; the faster we walk, the faster we get home, which means the faster you can cum all over my cock.”

my body trembles in desperation at the mere thought, my hand reaching up to grasp his in determination before i begin walking as fast as i can muster under the circumstances.

Matthew follows me, speeding up his pace as he begins to laugh, “so needy!”

his teasing leaves me unphased, my feet only shuffling back towards our house even quicker. but the faster i move, the more intense the vibrations get against my clit, urging me to slow down.

“M-Matty, please!” i cry, spinning around to face my boyfriend, “you win! i can’t take it anymore! i wanna go home!”

frustrated tears threaten to spill over my waterline, a pout etched into my face as i gaze up at him, towering over me.

“we can go home,” he hums sincerely. stopping beside me, he holds his arm out for me to entangle mine with; before lowering his lips towards my ear one last time, “right after this.”

my brows furrow in confusion, pulling my face back to look at him, but it doesn’t take long for me to understand his words.

the vibrator begins to hum, my body falling into his, as he proudly holds up the little purple remote, the tiny little LED numbers at the top reading ‘10’.

“highest level, darling. just let it out.” Matthew smirks, arms encircling my waist, holding me flush to his body as my legs turn weak.

the vibration against my clit is the most severe it’s been all night, my legs instinctively pressing together. but it doesn’t help at all, rather making the sensation stronger, which in turn makes my legs give out entirely.

Matty holds my body up, leaning down to capture my lips in his, effectively releasing my bottom lip from its jail between my teeth. with our lips pressed together, my hands tangle into the hair at the nape of his neck, moans pouring from my mouth and into his as my toes curl inside my combat boots.

eyes squeezed shut, the knotted chord that’s been tangling in my stomach snaps, my orgasm bringing flashes of light into my dark vision, blood rushing in my ears.

and just as quick as it hits, it’s gone; the vibrator powered off entirely with a simple click of a button from Matthew’s finger.

i breathe heavily as i come down from my release, pulling away from my boyfriend’s lips as he lifts me off the ground. my legs loosely wrap around his waist, his hands holding my ass as he begins to walk, eyeing his path from over my shoulder.

“i thought i wasn’t-”

i’m cut off by Matty speaking over me, “coming until we got home? yeah, that was the plan.”

he shrugs, fingers gripping tighter on my ass as he hastens his movement.

“but, you seemed so… tense,” he chuckles, “call it an early christmas present.”

“i don’t wanna cum for christmas!” i pout, but when he looks back at me with a singular raised brow, i backtrack, “well, i do. but, i also want a stanley cup!”

Matthew snickers as he steps up the stairs towards our front door.

“yeah? join the club.” he jokes and i smack his shoulder as he unlocks our house, opening the door and stepping inside.

“you know what i meant!” i roll my eyes, “i want a custom one a red one, like Panthers red, with your number on it.”

he smirks, letting me slide down the front of his body as i lay my feet flat upon the hardwood floor.

“i think i need a shower.” i huff, kicking my boots off before i turn to face my boyfriend again.

Matthew stands in the same spot as before, now eyeing the wet spot on his shirt from where my pussy was pressed against him after my release.

“you? look at me.”

i shrug, looking up at him with innocent eyes, “well, you did promise i could cum on your cock when we got home. you didn’t say where in the home.”

my boyfriend stares me down with a blank expression, blinking slowly as he processes my words, before clasping my hand with his, hurriedly pulling me towards our bedroom.

i giggle as i run through the house behind him, following him into our bedroom, where we’re quick to rid ourselves of our layers of clothing. i keep my panties on, walking into the bathroom before i peel them off, setting the vibrator in the sink to wash later.

i turn around just in time to watch Matty turn the shower on, water cascading down and pinging off the tile of the walk-in shower, splashing up against the panes of glass that surround it.

i step towards him, eyes scanning his toned body until i reach the part i yearn for.

his cock is hard; no longer straining against any fabrics, it stands in the air, tip flaming red and glistening with precum.

“oh, you’re so desperate, aren’t you?” he smirks, his hand pressing against my lower back as he ushers me into the steaming shower. “your eyes haven’t left my dick, it’s like you’re willing it to fuck you.”

my sight finally flickers back up to his face, warm water splashing upon my back as i stare up at him with soft eyes.

“i am.” i whisper, my voice low and sultry.

Matthew steps forward, closing the shower door behind him and pulling me towards him with a hand on my hip.

his erection presses against my hip, his voice deep and lust filled as he speaks, “all you to do is ask, darling.”

my thighs press together, eyelids falling hooded as i gaze up at him.

“Matty?” i start, an encouraging hum coming from his lips, “will you fuck me?”

“turn around, angel.”

i spin around, back facing him as water falls against my chest. he turns us to the side, his hands gripping my hips and pulling my ass back towards him, his cock nestling against it.

he bends my upper body forward, my arms instinctively stretching out in front of me, my wet hands slapping against the wall. Matthew steps back, kicking my feet apart before his right hand leaves my hip.

i squeak out a moan as his thick fingers swipe through my folds, gauging my wetness and lubrication from my orgasm just ten minutes ago.

“you think you can take me?” his lips, press against the top of my shoulder, peppering wet kisses up the side of my neck as i heave out of a shaky breath.

“yes,” i moan, nodding my head as best i can, “yes, daddy.”

Matty groans at the name, his hips bucking against mine and causing my jaw to drop. i peer back over my shoulder, watching as his hand wraps around his length.

he guides his tip through my wetness, spreading my cum around as lubrication before he lines himself up with my entrance, pressing forward and taking great pride in how my walls swallow him in.

“fuck.” he grunts, listening to my strangled whimper as he eases into me, “doing so well f’me, princess.”

the painful yet pleasant sting of his thick cock stretching me open causes my arms to shake, dropping forward with my forearms against the wall now. the new angle proves well when he finally bottoms out inside of me, the tip of his dick prodding against my g-spot.

“oh my god.” i cry out, my hips grinding back against him as he pulls out slowly, biding his time before he makes a swift thrust back in. his muscular thighs smack against the backs of mine, the sound echoing with the water that sprays down upon us.

his arm wraps around the front of my waist, holding me up as he fucks into me. his thrusts start slow but harsh, gradually picking up until he’s slamming into me at an unforgiving pace.

my tits bounce, my entire body jolting forward with each thrust, and i know at the rate he’s going, i won’t last long.

a broken sob carries through the bathroom as i press my cheek against the wall, barely able to keep my head up as i arch my back, allowing a deeper angle and an even better positioning for him to hit that soft spot inside of me.

“M-Matty! daddy!” my body shakes, only being pushed further towards my limit with the sound of his groans as he fucks into me, my walls pulsing around him.

“that’s it, princess,” his hands slides up my front, roughly clutching at my breast before continuing its travels, wrapping around my throat. “you gonna cum for me?”

he uses his grip to pull me upright, my back against his chest as my head tips back, laying on his shoulder. his hand tightens gently around my neck, the rush clouding my head as my breath catches in my throat.

i make a feeble attempt at a nod, but it’s more of a jerky movement than anything. his cock prods against my g-stop repetitively, his hips smacking against my ass.

his grip loosens enough for me to gulp in deep breaths, the pressure in my stomach building and building with each passing second. his free hand falls down to my swollen clit, a singular thick digit rubbing against it as his pace never falters.

“i’m gonna c-cum.” i pant out through shaky moans.

“cum for me, princess.”

his name falls from my lips like a solemn prayer, my toes curling against the wet tile underneath them as my eyes rolls back in my head, the pressure in my stomach finally relieving in a blast of pleasure.

Matty doesn’t stop pounding into me, his thrusts just growing more desperate as he chases his own high, simultaneously riding me through mine.

“shit, shit, shit!” he curses, his thrusts faltering as he reaches his orgasm, releasing inside of me with ropes of cum.

he stills, his hand falling from my neck, and instead both of them gripping my hips as he slowly pulls out of me. a gasping breath falls from me as i’m left clenching around nothing, the feeling of emptiness bittersweet.

“god, you’re a fucking dream.” he hums, spinning me around and pulling me into his chest.

a lazy smile spreads across my lips, pressing a kiss to his pec as my eyelids flutter.

“i think i really need a shower now.” he laughs at my response, turning so my body is completely under the warm water.

i step back, tipping my head back to let the water soak my hair and body before i peek an eye open to glance at him. his eyes are stuck on my breasts, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“are you gonna help me get clean or what?” i cock an eyebrow at him, his eyes snapping up to look at my face.

“i think… if i do that, i can’t be held responsible for my dick’s reaction.”

a boisterous giggle erupts from my throat, my hands reaching out to grab his, and i pull him under the water with me.

“well, the night is young,” i sing-song, “and you were gone for a long time.”

“i was gone a week.” he chuckles.

“mhm, and i usually get about 5 orgasms a week… i think we’ve got some catching up to do.”

[nightfall-kachiniko]

༅ ｡ₓ AOT girls (+hange) reacts to you crying during an argument…

paring: mikasa x reader, annie x reader, pieck x reader, hange x reader, sasha x reader.

˗ˏˋ꒰ ☁️ ꒱

𓏲·˚ ͙ mikasa

- you felt your heart bang with every word that came out of your wife’s mouth. her voice riddled with irritation at your lack of understanding, as you continued to go back and fourth. “I don’t like the idea of you out there for that long!” You shouted, desperately trying to explain. “You’re being dramatic,” she said, “it’s apart of my job, y/n. Theres nothing I can do about it!” It felt like you two had been saying the same thing over and over again. “6 months? Halfway across the world?! And you’re okay with that?!” You shouted angrily. “I have orders, y/n. I don’t have a choice.” She said sternly. “And there is nothing I can do or you can do to change that!” her aggressive words hit you in the heart as you felt your eyes start to water. the air was finally quiet for a few moments as you processed everything. ‘she has to. It’s her job. i need to understand that…’ you thought. But you just couldn’t. you just couldn’t stand the thought of mikasa being gone that long. the silence finally broke in the air as your voice choked up “I just don’t want you to leave me..!” your voice broke, as the tears you’d been holding in did aswell. You choked out sobs, deep, heavy, sobs, as your voice shattered sentences of incoherent. Mikasa froze for a moment, before her gaze went soft as it lied on you. her warm embrace laced hands around your figure as it held you tightly, her eyes filling with sadness. “Oh..don’t cry love..” she whispered as your cries continued, her arms wrapping lovingly around you. “I know darling, I know this is hard.” Mikasa said, as her hand raised your face from your palms to look you in the eyes. her fingers caressed tears off your face as she helped you calm down. “I promise you, I’ll never leave you.. no matter what distance lays between us.”

𓏲·˚ ͙ annie

“You never listen to me! Ever! I mean fuck y/n why do I even bother at this point?!” Annie shouted angrily, her tone filled with more rage than usual. It started off as a dumb couples fight to now a full on argument spurring out angered insults with mindless thinking. “Oh really? You’re one to talk! That’s all you ever do is blame everything on me!” You spat back. Annie’s figure swiftly turned around to face you, “you’re the one that starts shit y/n, not me.” she sternly said. “I put up with your shit every day for the past 5 years. 5 YEARS Y/N! I’ve had to mother you! I’ve had to care for you! IM BASICALLY A GODDAMN BABYSITTER!” Her screams rang in your ears as you closed your eyes, her aggressively packing her bags.“Seriously?” You mutter out, “I’ve sacrificed friendships, I’ve sacrificed LIVES for you! I’ve sacrificed everything just to be with a warrior! I’ve done so much for you!” you screamed back. Annie looked at you, her eyes as stern as ever. “ All you’ve ever done for me is cause me problems,” her voice was serious, her voice was real. i think that’s the part that hurt the most, the fact that her voice said what her mind wanted to. and she was being honest. The anger you once had in your eyes faded to a soft gaze as you felt your heart shatter. Your eyes filled with tears as you stayed silent, trying not to cry. “That’s all you ever do.” Annie sternly said, failing to realize your soft whimpers would soon break into sobs. as you felt your world crashing down on you as tears streamed down your cheeks, your palms held your face in your hands as you cried. Annie turned back around from stuffing a shirt in her suitcase, her eyes landing on you. she stayed silent as you cried, not knowing what to do. But what she did know, that she really fucked up. Annie glanced at your figure, feeling that out of regret and guilt arise in her stomach. She softly came towards you, her arms carefully wrapping around your body as you dug your head into her shoulder, sobbing. “I’m sorry..” she whispered into your hair. “I’m sorry..” she said a bit louder. But you could tell from the tone in her voice, that she was being honest.

𓏲·˚ ͙ pieck

“Please y/n, I’m not in the mood.” Your girlfriend said, tiredness on her face. “But you said you’d stay tonight..” you disappointedly breathed out. “I barley see you enough as it is. You can’t just stay a few hours?” the woman turned around swiftly to look at you, “I don’t know how many times I have to repeat myself. I said no y/n, what part of that do you not understand?!” Her aggressive response caught you off guard, your air feeling more heavy around you. “..you don’t have to yell at me pieck..” you softly muttered out before she cut you off. “Well sometimes you just don’t fucking listen!” She shouted aggressively, taking out her anger on you. “Pieck stop! I don’t want to fight with you!” You called back, trying to calm her down. “Then stop being so needy all the time and let me rest!” She replied. Her words made you feel like a burden as you felt your chest get tighter, confused and saddened as to what you did wrong. “..fine…” you sighed out, turning away to walk upstairs. You heard pieck mutter a “finally” under her breath as your vision became blurred, tears swelling up in your eyes. You turned back around in the doorway to look at pieck. “..I’m sorry If i did something wrong..” your voice wobbled out, catching her attention. Pieck starred at you, tears flowing down your face as you slightly hummed soft cries. She was token aback by your state, clearly now realizing how she acted towards you. “Oh.. dove..” pieck softly said, “no..no no sweetie” the messy haired woman came over to you, her eyes fixated on your own watery orbs. Guilt plastered on her face as she hugged you tightly, making you take in a deep breath to stop your sobs from getting worse. “Honey, I’m so sorry dear.. I don’t know what gotten into me lately.. I’ve just been so stressed.. I shouldn’t of token it out on you love… I’m so sorry sweetheart please don’t cry..” she said, drying your tears with tissues. “I..know you’ve been… stressed.. and I’m sorry I just miss you…” you managed to get out in between breaths. “Im sorry darling..”

𓏲·˚ ͙ hange

The one night that you rarely have with you and hange alone, cancelled all because of some stupid paperwork they could get to in the morning? “Seriously Han?! Do you know how long we’ve been planning this?” You hear hange sigh from their desk as they touch the bridge of their nose. “I’ve told you y/n I have too many things to do! Why do I have to keep repeating myself like a skipping record?!” Hange scolded at you. Apparently this date meant more to you then it did to her. Way more. To the point they’d rather do paperwork than go on it. “You can do that shit in the morning! This is the one night we finally can go out and you’re telling me no?!” You angrily shouted at her. “Fuck hange! I’ve barley seen you in weeks! I wake up and your not there! I go to sleep and your not there! Why is everything about your fucking work?! Why is it never about me?!” You shouted at them, their face filling with more irritation than before. “I’m not saying it again.” They said, picking back up their pen and scribbling down on their paperwork. “Really? You’re really gonna do this to me?” You said, trying to not flip out on them. Hange didn’t reply, but just ignore you. “Gonna ignore me like you always do, huh?” You scoffed. A rage burning up inside you as you ranted. “You know why the hell are you even in a relationship if you’re commander?! You leave me out in the fucking dust! You act like I’m not even there! Is all I am just a fuck to you when you’re too stressed to function?! Huh?! Is that paperwork more important than me-“ “YES! FUCK ANYTHING TO SHUT YOU UP!” they yelled, cutting you off. You felt your heart sink as they screamed, going on about how you never listen, always complain, how they’re always too busy and stressed. Too focused on their rant to notice the tears falling down your eyes and your small shaky breaths. “AND I DO NOT HAVE ENOUGH ENERGY TO DEAL WITH Y-“ they cutt themself as they saw your shattered figure, your eyes filled with tears as they kept streaming like a river down your face, dripping onto the floor. ‘At least now they were quiet, huh hange?’ they thought, realizing how badly they hurt you. You just started at the floor avoiding eye contact as they breathed out a sigh, fixing their glasses. “I..c-come here love.” They said, their hand gesturing for you to come closer as they walked towards you. Hange sighed as they felt you collapse into their arms, not knowing when the last time they held you like this was. She let you sob, rubbing circles onto your back as she occasionally pressed kisses into your hair, relaxing into you. “I know I haven’t been the best partner, y/n. I’m not a good partner at all. I’m sorry.”

𓏲·˚ ͙ sasha

“I am doneee!!! Donee!! No more arguing i cant hear you!!” Sasha plugged her ears as you continued to pour out everything that was in you. From the late nights out, to the not knowing where she was. It was too much. You’d never get a serious answer, all you’d get is your concerns blown off with a ‘ehh you’re dramatic babe’ it was like she took nothing seriously. Not your emotions. Not your concerns. Not even your relationship. “Sasha fucking stop!” You yelled. “I’m trying to talk to you about something that concerns me and all you do is plug your ears and ignore me!” You cry out. “Do you even care about us at all?!” You say, to be greeted with a nonchalant “oh wow and now you think I don’t care?” Sasha scoffed, hopping off the counter. “You’re frustrating me! Ive already told you I’m having fun I’m safe I’m fine I’m not cheating on you!” They blurted out. “Sash that is not even my concern! Maybe you’d know what it is if you’d actually listen!!” You yelled out. “Oh trust me, I listen.” She bit into her Apple. “I have to listen to your insecurities all the time. And I have to deal with ‘em. I’ve gotta put up with ‘em!” She remarked back, making you even more frustrated. “Then why don’t you do anything about it?! Why don’t you care?!” “Damn it y/n I do!” “Then shut up and listen!” She laughed at your remark, confusing you. “Gosh you really don’t quit do you?” Sasha chuckled, making your blood boil. You had enough, you were so filled with rage and hurt. You felt tears start spurring out your eyes as you yelled and cried and sobbed, catching Sasha off guard. “Y/n?” She looked around, lost. “Hey-uh..” Sasha just starred at you and your broken figure, sobbing and crying. “D-did I really make you that upset..?” She questioned, taking in the state you’re in. “Babe..” they came closer to you as you muttered a “go away..” in between sobs. “Hey no nooo babe.. ah gosh..” Sasha said, trying to comfort you. “Ah..please don’t cry pretty, I’m sorry darlin’..” she hugged you tightly, pressing your figure up agaisnt hers. “I’m gonna do better honey, I promise.”

a/n: I AM SO FUCKING TIRED

[arent-i-the-fairest]

Could I request some enemy-rival for the best grades in class to lovers with Azul, Riddle, Jamil, and Vil. (It's ok if you don't do the last two).

𝐀+ 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

author’s note : i’ve finally finished something!! i’m very sorry for being so inactive everyone, writer’s block has had me by the throat orz

azul ashengrotto

azul is an entrepreneur, and you learn very early in the business world that you’ve got to be competitive; and he is just that.

we all know him, he does some shady shit. you would think with an academic rival, he would try and pull something like getting you expelled or finding some way to nuke your grades— all while somehow managing to stay in the bounds of what’s legal.

but despite you two’s thick rivalry, azul wouldn’t do anything of the sort to you.. if you were anyone else, he would. the truth is, he’s got a little crush on you.

“i really don’t think getting me a tutor is necessary, professor.”

crewel looks up from his paperwork, unconvinced. “your performance has been dropping, prefect. quite significantly. i wouldn’t be doing this if this if you were just experiencing a small bump in the road. i’m worried about your comprehension.”

“.. i guess i have been having trouble understanding what we’ve been learning,” you admit. “anyways, you mentioned already selecting a tutor for me. who is it?”

“azul ashengrotto.” crewel replies cooly. you choke. of all the possible people—

“why him??” you barely breath out.

“he’s one of the finest student-alchemists in the school, that’s why. i would’ve asked one of the other top alchemists to tutor you, but they were all busy. besides, the pup seemed enthusiastic at the idea of tutoring you.” crewel explained as he stirred his coffee. “i know you don’t like him, but you’ll have to put up with it until your performance starts picking back up. do your best not to maul him during you two’s sessions.”

a knock on the door momentarily pulled you out of your misery.

“please excuse the interruption!” a familiar voice chirped. you sighed; it’s azul. and just like that, you feel miserable again.

“ashengrotto. thank you for taking up the tutor role. show some gratitude, prefect.” crewel orders.

“thanks, azul.” you grit out.

“of course! i’m willing to help you fix your shortcomings any time,” azul flashes an admittedly charming, but at the same time irritable smile at you. “anything for a beloved friend.”

your eyes twitch at his insincerity. “so what are you here for?” you ask.

“i actually came to take you to the library. that’s where i’ve decided we’ll be holding our tutoring sessions.” he smiles.

the realization of something makes you raise an eyebrow. how did he know you were in here? you didn’t tell him (or anyone else for that matter) that you would be seeing crewel after school. you haven’t talked to azul since class that morning, when you chewed him out for indirectly calling you dumb.

“.. i see. we should get going then.”

the two of you walk in blissful silence until azul disturbs it.

“just so you know, prefect— me tutoring you means you are in debt now. i’m a busy man, you know. and i’ll be having to pay jade and floyd a couple madol extra for running the entire lounge theirselves for an hour and a half each day i’ll have to tutor.”

“debt?!” you sputtered. “i didn’t even get a choice in this! crewel just sprung all this on me today, literal minutes before you joined our convo,” you stop firmly in your tracks. “if you tutoring me is going to get me in debt, i’m not going. i can study on my own.”

“oh please, being in my debt isn’t so bad!” azul snakes a hand around your arm before dragging you in the direction of the library. you try to break free, but he’s got an iron grip. “and i happen to be very fond of you, so i won’t make you repay me with anything too costly.”

“knowing you, you definitely are!”

having azul as your tutor is emotionally grueling.

it’s not the way he teaches. he’s not like teachers that have thin patience and are just all around terrifying— the worst you get is the occasional quip, but that’s expected of your rival. aside from said quips, he’s actually quite kind. and helpful. the grueling part is trying to come to terms with the fact that you fell for him.

you were practically vibrating with happiness seeing the score on your report card. “finally! i’m back at a high A again! i’ve got to tell azu..” your voice trailed off as you remembered earlier today, he asked you to come to the mostro lounge.

he was gonna make you pay your debt today.

. . .

entering the establishment, you were taken aback to see the place with not a single customer. it’s after school; the time mostro lounge is usually it’s busiest. and as far as you know, there’s nothing special going on today. besides you having to pay your debt.

“did he close for the day because of me?” you gulped as you looked around for azul. out he came from the VIP room— dressed not in his dorm uniform, but in a rather fancy outfit. apparently he wants to collect his pay in style.

“prefect,” he greeted, seeming oddly nervous. “your payment is..” azul cuts himself off, like he’s struggling to speak. his face is flushing at an indescribable pace. meanwhile you’re nervous out of your mind; even more so confused at why he looks like he’s about to pass out.

“go on..” you urge.

“having dinner with me.”

“.. oh! wait wh—”

riddle rosehearts [!!! — burnout]

it’s not being competitive that’s bad; it’s being the annoying type of competitive that is. and riddle is certainly giving off that annoying-competitive vibe to you. but whatever! you’re willing to compete against him, it’ll just push you even harder to aim for the top. and it is genuinely fun to compete!

— until you get burnt out.

turns out juggling personal problems, other people’s problems, 20 others things as well as keeping your grades high is not easy. at some point you begin to crack; your energy deteriorates, and so does your grades. and who is there to point it out? your beloved rival, of course.

the grades you see on your report card right now are not the worst thing you could get. not by a long shot! (just take a look at ace and deuce’s grades.) but it still stings to get when you’re usually so much better.

you used to have high A’s— even a few A+’s! but now you had low B’s in just about every class.

“i did all i could. all that effort, just for me to end up sinking.” you crumple up your paper up in frustration then toss it behind you, not even wanting it to be in your possession.

it landed right in front of riddle. he unfolds it and sneers as he makes his way to your seat.

“what happened to your straight A’s?” the boy asks, sliding the report before your hunched-over form. “don’t tell me you’ve lost some of your work ethic?”

“no,” you sluggishly sit up, shaking your head. “at least, i don’t think so. i’ve been working as hard as i can. i don’t understand how my grades plummeted despite that.”

there’s a look of concern that crosses riddle’s face for a moment, but you don’t catch it. he immediately dons a scowl once again.

“hmph. well, if you want to get back to the respectable place you once were, you’d better work even harder.”

you, drowning in self-loathing over your grades, decided he was right. so you worked harder. you worked so hard in fact, you ended up ill.

“when i told you to work harder, i did not mean half to death. what were you thinking? neglecting sleep, a proper diet— essentially every necessity of having good health? i’m disappointed, prefect.”

riddle’s harsh tone is making your tension headache intensify. your head pounds with every word he says.

“listen— i know it wasn’t smart of me to let my health go to shit. but let me do something right for the first time in like, a month, and nurse myself back to perfect health,” you throw your blanket over your head. “which starts with getting some rest. i appreciate the visit and the scolding— now please leave.”

riddle scoffs as if he’s offended, tugging your blanket right back down. “i am not leaving! i’m going to help you,” he stops, his irked expression turning into a somber one. “i owe you it.”

“.. explain?” you ask, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. he sits on the edge of your bed, back facing you.

“i’m the reason your sick, aren’t i? inadvertently of course, but still.” he stares down at his lap in shame. “i felt that i was only looking out in your best interest when i told you to ‘work harder’. i didn’t want your grades to end up dropping even lower— and for you to end up even upsetter than you already seemed.”

the corners of your lips twitch up. “so what i’m getting from this is.. you care about me?” you ask. he confirms it with a nod.

“i didn’t want to show back then, but i’ll admit it to it now. i do care about you.” he is so glad he has his back to you right now, because he’s sure his face is bright red.

he’s praying that his words are mending your relationship. (lucky for him, it is. your heart is pounding, and it’s not from whatever overworking-induced disease you have.)

“that’s really sweet, riddle.” you sit up and scooch over to give him a half-hug, which he returns clumsily. “also, just so you know, i don’t blame you for getting me sick or anything.”

he lets out a relieved sigh as he turns to give you a full hug, burying his face in your neck. a 180 from the way he was so stiff just seconds ago. then he suddenly recoils as if he’s just snapped out of his euphoria.

“would now be the right time to ask if we should start dating?” you ask.

“it would. i’d love to be a relationship.” he smiles. “now, let’s get you some rest.”

jamil viper [!!! — chapter 4 spoilers]

this rivalry is unique to the others; that is because of the fact that jamil can’t make above average grades. not because he’s got average intelligence, but because his grades have to be underneath kalim’s. servitude sucks. (you two are still competing to be smarter than each other, so it’s still considered academic!) (.. right?? idk the rules)

you and jamil are quite close— not that either of you will willingly call each other a friend, but you are friends. despite that, you know way less than you feel like you should about him.

he’s so secretive about himself, it just makes you want to know more. but at the same time, you don’t wanna show interest. so you’re stuck wishing for a chance to learn more about him without seeming like a simp. and your wish came true.

despite all the times you’ve been over, you haven’t gotten a proper look at scarabia. (sure, you were here for all of winter break, which is a solid amount of time to be locked in a dorm— but it was hard to pay attention to the interior design with the whole jamil-going-insane saga.)

so today, you decided you were gonna walk around and really take the whole place in— and god, this dorm is gorgeous.

“i’ll have to thank kalim for letting me explore. and to make him give me some tips on how to decorate ramshackle..” you mumbled to yourself, turning to leave the storage room you just finished observing.

you’re slightly alarmed at the sound of the door knob being vigorously shaken. the door flies open, and now you’re suddenly face to face with a thoroughly upset looking jamil.

jamil curses under his breath. this room is empty for nearly 24 hours all 7 days of the damn week. the one time he comes in for solitude, there’s someone in here. but strangely, he doesn’t hate having you in his presence right now.

“are you okay?” you ask, concerned. he stays silent, hesitant to reply— half of him wants to just say ‘yes’ and walk away right now, while the other wants to unload all his feelings.. which is so unlike him. yet that out-of-character half wins.

“.. i’m exhausted.” jamil quietly admits, shutting the door so any passersby can’t overhear the sensitive conversation. he leans backwards onto the wall and he slides down to sit on the floor against it.

“oh.” you slide down next to him. “i’d be exhausted too if i had to do all the shit you do around the dorm.” you attempt to cheer him up.

“it’s not because of dorm duties,” he chuckles wryly. “i’m sure this is nothing you want to hear about as we left this back at the winter holiday, but i can’t help but rant about it now. i’m exhausted of holding back to kalim. holding back to everyone, really. but especially him.”

“i thought you didn’t feel that way anymore! didn’t you get counseling to work that mindset away?”

“i did get counseling. but please, as long as i’m a servant to the al-asim family, these horrible feelings won’t be going anywhere. regardless of how much counseling i receive.”

you wanted to help him, so you tried to think of something you could do. then came the question — what could you even do? it’s not like you could just pull him and his family out of servitude. nor ask him to just go wild and do whatever he wants with his life. whatever you do, it’ll just have to be small scale.

you wracked your brain for a few days before hatching a plan; a plan that in retrospect.. was not that great. the gist was : on an upcoming test, you would purposefully get a lower grade than him because the high of being better seems to be one of the things he wants the most.

as you intentionally penned in several incorrect answers, you sighed to yourself. this is dumb.

would purposefully getting a grade lower than him even make him feel the slightest bit better? it’s kalim who he’d want to get a higher grade than. but you’re also a rival to him— of course, a much less serious one— but a rival nonetheless! so maybe he’d still be happy..? 

the more you thought about it, the more holes you found in your plan.

this most definitely has more cons than pros. to name the two big ones— a low grade on your track record of otherwise perfect scores would scar your soul. and jamil.. you don’t even know if he’d appreciate this. if anything, this would give him a laugh.

you looked up from your test and a few seats ahead of you, where jamil sat. to others, he had the same neutral expression he always wore. but you could notice he still seemed a little down.

.. even if this just gave him a small laugh, it would be worth it.

. . .

“this was not worth it.” you clasp your hand over your mouth in embarrassment as jamil snickers. the thought of this low C dragging your grade down by several points is giving you physical damage. you’ll be making an A+ on every single future assignment to cope and rebuild your grade. “anyways, shouldn’t you be thanking me or something for this hit to my grade i took for you?”

“.. you’re right. i should thank you. i don’t know many people who would willingly take such a large hit to their grade just to make me feel better.” jamil says before smirking.

“what’s that face for?”

“i was just thinking. knowing how much you care about your grades, you wouldn’t do this for just anyone. i must be special to you.” he says jokingly.

“you are.” you reply not jokingly. both of you freeze. jamil is shocked, processing what’d just happened. and you’re mortified you just accidentally confessed— you almost consider bolting while he’s still stunned.

“.. you’re special to me too, prefect.”

vil schoenheit

you’re a top student, exceptionally attractive, have shining potential, and much more. you know what all that makes you to vil? a threat. you get rival status.

you never wanted a rivalry with anyone, let alone vil fucking schoenheit!! he’s scary!! you just wanted to make good grades in peace, but he dragged you into one anyways.

to tell you a secret : vil lowkey liked you from the jump. he valued a lot of things about you. from your intelligence, to work ethic, to your personality, you were charming. he also had this itch to curate you to your full potential. but he held back— he shouldn’t help his proclaimed rival. (you might rise to his level if he does!)

one day, the great 7 frowned upon you and you were assigned to be partners with vil for a project. a project that required the two of you to work together over the course of an entire month. during this, his love would grow and eventually be requited. and that journey started with him doing exactly what he said he wouldn’t : trying to curate you to your full potential.

“what time do you normally go to bed?” vil asks, taking your attention off of your work.

“oh, i don’t usually check the time before i go to bed, so i can’t give an exact answer. but definitely past 10 or 11pm most nights.” you admit. the way he furrows his eyebrows is a sure sign that he disapproves. you’ve gotten horror stories from epel about the routines vil makes everyone in the dorm follow, and you’re hoping they’re not about to extend to you.

“it must be quite late, because i can see some dark circles.” he says, prodding right under one of your eyes. his bluntness makes you sputter. “now tell me, what skincare brand do you use?” oh boy.

“… that cheap one at the school store.”

he clicks his tongue. “that won’t do at all. i’m not even sure what janky brand you’re talking about, and also extremely concerned that you can’t remember the name of it— but whatever it is, it’s not doing justice for your skin.”

“hey, i’m just working with what i can afford.” you mumble. he waves it off.

“i have plenty of other questions, but i doubt any of the answers will be what i want to hear. after we finish this project session, come with me to pomefiore. i’ll put you on some beauty and health routines that’ll get you glowing results by a week.”

“what? that’s sudden..” though the thought of looking like a new person in just a week is tempting. “also, that’s really nice of you to do for your rival. this is something you’d do for someone if you liked them.”

vil turns away to obscure his face from you. “that is not why i’m doing this,” he clarifies. “i’m only doing this because you’ll be more interesting to compete with you once you’re not so much of a spudling. i need you to become more of a challenge.”

yes, that’s why. there is no other possible reason he would reach out to help you improve yourself. this is totally not him denying he’s doing this out of affection.

so that was a lie. it was totally out if affection. (also, yes, you did get great results by the end of the week as promised. for a while, you were concerned he was actually setting you up and the opposite would happen.)

the two of you started spending time with each other outside of project sessions and sure enough vil found himself falling harder. he wasn’t thrilled about this at first, but eventually he started thinking.. you two do make a nice pair, don’t you?

there was even a shift in his behavior towards you. of course, there was still a flair of that sharper side of him— it wouldn’t be vil if there wasn’t. but he was noticeably less standoffish and condescending. he became all around much kinder towards you. his behavior even bordered on affectionate, at times.

he did fear this romance was unrequited though. despite his change in behavior, he’s worried you’re still off-put by him for the way he used to act towards you, among other things.

meanwhile, what you were really feeling was : you very much have feelings for him, but him being so sweet lately cannot mean he likes you back, right??

you’re in for a shock when vil inevitably confesses. he can’t stand pining for too long.

[goosewriting]

Warmth

summary: now that reader got to look underneath the surface, they discover the not so pretty parts about being an inquisitor

relationship: inq!Cal Kestis x gn!reader

warnings: 18+, semi-graphic violence, mentions of blood, trauma, it gets pretty steamy, but still fade to black, implied sexual encounters, cal being emotionally constipated because what else is new, dom cal, soft cal, dirty talk? sorta?, talking about killing people, reader being a nerd, having a bath together, non-sexual nudity, reader gets choked, a lot is happening ok

word count: 12k … this one got away form me, i–

A/N: tbh when i started this i had no idea where i was going with it; this just took on a life of its own. i guess this one’s a little more grounded than the previous one, as reader and cal explore what it means to be an inquisitor. it’s a bit different to my usual stuff but i hope you like it nonetheless :’D

this can be read on its own, but it's technically a sequel to underneath!

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

It’s rather calm today, uneventful, as you sit at your office desk doing your work absent-mindedly.

You think back to your first night together with inquisitor Cal Kestis. It’s been some time since then, and you’re glad that there were more nights after that one.

Whatever is going on between you two, you try to be discreet about it. But it didn’t go unnoticed by others how Cal would approach you in the hallways to say hi or have a quick chat to check in on you. At first, you were nervous that it would affect your job in some way, negatively change your relationship with your boss and colleagues (not that you’re too close with them, but you still want to keep it professional and respectful with them). To your surprise though, the others seem to respect you more because of it. Apparently being able to hold your ground against an inquisitor isn't a small feat. ‘Hold your ground’... More like being wrapped around his finger. 

You smile to yourself as you think back to a couple of nights back. Your heart quickens and the tip of your ears burn as you remember the trails of kisses Cal left on your skin, setting your whole body on fire, accompanied by words of praise and adoration, words only for you to hear. 

Shaking your head to rid yourself of the slippery slope that is your current train of thought, you refocus on the screen in front of you and continue clacking away on the keyboard. You haven’t really defined or put a label on what you two have, but you know it’s special, and it is real. And you’re content with that for now. You like the current dynamic, where you have dinner together as often as your jobs will allow it, and you sleep over at his quarters every other day. 

However, lately there’s been a habit of Cal’s that worries you a bit. There’s been several instances now when you wake up in the middle of the night and your hand reaches out to find him, but his side of the bed is empty. Sometimes he’s not in the room at all. Other times you can see him standing at the window with his back towards you; his red hair seems to glow above his dark silhouette contrasting with the dim fiery glow coming from Mustafar, appearing from behind a veil of clouds. You know he knows you’re awake, but you stay still, pretending to be asleep. Whatever is weighing on his mind, whenever he feels ready, he’ll come to you. And you’d wait for as long as he needs.

Still, getting up so often at night starts to take a toll. You notice he’s more irritable, you see the dark bags under his eyes. But when you try to confront him about it, he dismisses it as unimportant, saying he’ll get better sleep that night. But it’s just the same thing over and over again.

One night after dinner, you’re both sitting on his couch, and you finally manage to pry out what has got him unable to sleep: nightmares. You don’t really understand what the problem is; everyone gets nightmares every once in a while. Even if he were to move around a lot, you’d try to calm him down and get him back to sleep.

“Do you know how inquisitors are made?” he asks seemingly out of nowhere while on the nightmare topic.

You take a moment to think about it, and realise that you do, in fact, not. So you shake your head.

“The Empire captures Jedis, to torture and remake them however they see fit”, he explains and stops from a moment to let it sink in.

“Part of them is lost forever,” he continues, his gaze moving to the side, looking at nothing in particular. “The other seems to be trapped, unable to move or escape. Jedis are trained to not give in to hate or anger. For inquisitors, those are the only things keeping them going. Ironically, feeling an enemy’s life force fade away… It makes you feel alive again.” He looks down at his hands. “It lets you feel something again at all: the rage, towards oneself and towards everyone who’s ever wronged you. It’s an addicting feeling, all-consuming. But much too short. So you seek it out again. And the Empire has plenty of enemies they need gone, so you comply.”

He pauses, allowing you to interject if it’s too much, but you remain silent, listening attentively. You’ve never heard this side of him, of how it felt being an inquisitor. 

“In those moments–” he goes on, clenching his hands into fists. “–feeding off of someone's desperation and pain that you can feel through the Force, it also opens a minimal gap for you to feel other things too. Things you thought you had forgotten or want to forget, like regret, fear and doubt. Or things you think you don’t deserve to feel anymore, like warmth. Happiness.” He pauses for a moment. “Love.”

You remain silent for a moment longer in case he wants to add anything else, but it doesn’t look like it. So you ask something instead. 

“And what do you remember in those moments?”

Cal closes his eyes and throws his head back slightly, taking a deep breath.

“The smell of the temple library on Coruscant,” he replies. “The rare sound of the clones laughing in the mess hall. How safe I felt with my master.”

You tilt your head with a slight grimace; it breaks your heart to hear he thinks he can’t have those things anymore because of what he is now. Or rather, what he was made.

“You still deserve all of that, the warmth and feelings of safety,” you say, and reach out to run your fingertips over his cheek, but he turns away.

“You don’t think I’m a monster? Like everyone else does?” he asks with a wry chuckle. “You know what I do. I don’t deserve any of it.”

Or you.

He doesn’t say the words aloud, but they hang heavy in the air between you two. 

“Okay, Kestis,” you say as you stand up, one hand stretched out towards him. “No moping, c’mon.”

He gives you a suspicious look, but accepts your hand nonetheless. You guide him to the washroom and run a bath for him, using one of your nicer bath bombs which you kept for special occasions. 

“Time for some pampering. You deserve it,” you enunciate that last part. “Clothes off.”

He narrows his eyes at you, unsure of what you’re scheming. You can’t help but laugh at the faint blush spreading on his freckled face as you start to strip yourself. 

“Now, don’t get any ideas. No funny business, I mean it. Just a bath,” you say, pointing a finger at him.

“Alright, alright,” he gives in with a low chuckle, and starts unbuttoning his shirt. 

Not long after, you’re both in the tub, with you sitting behind Cal, both enveloped by fragrant bubbles filling the warm water surface. You instruct him to lean back so you can wash his hair. Using your own shampoo instead of the boring, Empire-issue one, you lather up his hair, massaging his scalp, which earns you a grunt or two, and you can’t help a triumphant smile.

“Does it feel good?” you ask, and you get another grunt in response, so it must indeed feel good.

After you’re done with the hair, you tell him to turn around, and you squirt some soap onto a wash cloth. Starting at his neck, you scrub gently in circular motions, making your way down over his shoulder and his arms. Then you repeat the process on the other arm. As you lift it out from the thick layer of bubbles, you notice some reddening on his skin at his bicep. You take a closer look.

“Is that a new scar?” you ask.

“Yeah, don’t know where from though,” he says, and you get the impression that he does, but you don’t ask him about it. 

“Is that so,” you mumble, then lean in to place a soft kiss on it. “There, now it will heal faster.” 

Cal snorts and rolls his eyes, but his gaze remains soft.

“What, you don’t believe me?” you retort in mock offence. Then you start placing kisses on all his scars, the ones on his face, at his jaw and over his nose. The scars on his chest, his shoulders. You end by placing one last kiss on the tip of his nose, and grin up at him, but your face changes into worry when you see his expression. His brows are furrowed, as if in pain, his eyes shut tightly, his shoulders tense.

“Cal, are you okay?” you ask, and his hand comes out of the water to hold your face. You place your hand over his. He blinks a couple of times, and when he fully opens his eyes again, his features relax, and he smiles warmly. But what shocks you the most is that his eyes aren’t their usual yellow; they’re greenish blue. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. His gaze is not only a different colour, but also as vulnerable and tender as you’ve never seen before in him. 

“You’re too good to me,” he whispers, leaning in to place a single, lingering kiss on your cheek. 

Suddenly, his face contorts in pain again, this time more than before, and his hands shoot up to either side of his head, pressing onto his temples. When he opens his eyes again, they’re back to the yellow you know and love.

“My head is killing me suddenly,” he says through gritted teeth. “Can we wrap it up?” 

“Uh, of course, yeah,” you answer, making quick work of rinsing off both of you and getting some towels. 

Soon you’re both in bed, with your back against his chest, as he holds on to you like his life depends on it. Cal falls asleep first, but it’s rather restless. He keeps twitching and flinching, and with every sudden move, you’re dragged back out of your almost drifting to sleep. When he seems to finally have calmed down, you exhale deeply, eager to follow suit and drift into dreamland as well. Instead, Cal groans loudly, and you lean onto your side to look up over your shoulder. He looks distressed, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

“Cal, are you okay?” you ask, placing your hand on his shoulder to try and wake him, but you retrieve it quickly when his eyes shoot open, wild and angry and disoriented. 

“Prauf!” he screams, grabbing you harshly and rolling over so he’s straddling you, one of his hands fisting the sheets while the other goes to your throat, starting to choke you.

“C-Cal…!” you rasp out, holding onto his wrist to try and get him off of you. “You’re hurting me!”

He puts more weight into his hold, and you start seeing white dots sprinkled in your field of vision.

“It’s me, please,” you gasp, raising your hand to hold his cheek instead, and that seems to work. Slowly, his eyes seem to focus again, and his ragged breathing calms down slightly. When he finally sees you under him and understands what he is doing, he lets go and jumps off of you, off the bed, and slams his back against the opposite wall. You take a gulp of air, falling into a coughing fit. 

“Are you okay?” you croak when you can finally talk again, and you see him holding his head, trembling. 

“I- I’m sorry- This-” he starts, but can’t form a sentence. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he lets his hands fall back down to his sides. “I’m sleeping on the couch.” 

Cal leaves the room before you can protest, and the doors close behind him. Just like that you’re left alone, wondering what in the world just happened. Does it have something to do with his eyes earlier? And what, or who, is Prauf? 

— — —

The next morning, you’re awoken by the alarm clock on his night stand, and it takes you a couple of tries to turn it off. Sitting up on the bed with a yawn, you start remembering what happened the night before, and your hands comes up to your neck, where you can still feel some soreness from being choked like that.

You tiptoe out of the room, but just as you expected, Cal is gone. Taking a quick look at the clock, you yelp as you realise how late it is, and you hurry to the washroom to get ready. 

Once you’re ready to go, you take one last look at yourself in the mirror, and realise that your neck has visible marks, clearly in the shape of a hand. You grimace slightly, propping up the collar of your uniform as high up as it will go, and it covers up most of it. As long as you don’t look up or stretch your neck too much, you should be good. So you leave Cal’s quarters and head to your office. 

The whole day, you’re a bit distracted, hoping that Cal doesn’t feel too bad about what he did. You just want to help; sure, the nightmares are worse than you thought. But you’ll figure it out, together. 

You don’t get to see or hear from Cal the whole day though, or the next, or the one after that. For almost a week, he seems to be avoiding you completely. He doesn’t answer your holocalls or texts. You only catch the occasional glimpse of him leaving a room just when you’re entering. 

Tired of this game of cat and mouse, you decide to go find him. Instead, you end up cornered by the Ninth Sister. You’re slightly scared of her if you’re honest – no, scratch that. You are scared of her; she’s incredibly intimidating, not just by her sheer size and strength, but her presence in general. She always sounds mad, a deep frown etched into her face. So when she suddenly tells you to follow her, you don’t find it in you to refuse. To your surprise, she hunts down Cal as well, and brings you both to an empty hallway.

“Whatever is going on between you two: fix it!” she barks, then turns around with a scoff, muttering something about it being like scolding children. 

You look around, and there’s no one around, so you look up at Cal’s helmet visor, trying to find his eyes under it, but obviously only seeing your own reflection.

“Hey,” you greet him, giving him a smile to signal you’re not mad. “I missed you.”

His shoulders slump slightly, and he looks around as well. Instead of answering, he grabs you by your elbow and guides you some steps down the hallway to a maintenance shaft. He flicks his wrist, and the doors open, he shoves you both inside and closes the doors.

Only now does he take off his helmet, and you can’t suppress a gasp, horrified at the sight. His hair is sticking out everywhere, the bags under his eyes are the darkest you’ve ever seen, and he not only has new scratches on his face, he also a black eye that seems to be a couple of days old. 

“What happened to you?” you ask, and you’re aware that it’s not a great opener, but you’re genuinely worried. Your hands gingerly run over his face as you inspect the damage. Cal shrugs nonchalantly.

“I’ve been distracted lately and it affected my performance,” he says with a wry smile. “So they had to correct my bad behaviour.”

You take a moment to make sure you’re properly understanding what he’s implying. By the look in his eyes, kinda sad and a bit ashamed, it seems you are.

“Do you get corrected often?” you ask carefully.

“Sometimes. When I get greedy,” he answers. You think back to your conversation about being an inquisitor, and remember how he said that he only got a glimpse back into his own heart when he was out there, doing horrible things. Does that mean he was defying orders just to be able ‘to feel something at all’? 

“Do you usually get corrected… after being with me?” you ask this time, almost scared of the answer. 

“It’s not your fault,” he indirectly answers your question, taking your hands in his. “Being with you is just as addicting as being out there. I’m just… weak like that, I guess.”

“Oh, Cal,” you whisper, giving his hands a squeeze. “The warmth you yearn for and that you seek, it may make you feel vulnerable, and you think that makes you weak, but all it does is make you real. You’re real, Cal, and so am I. And I don’t want you to get hurt. You don’t need to be greedy; I’m here, I always will be. You deserve that warmth, and if you’ll have me, I’ll give you all of it.”

His brows rise slightly in surprise, and you realise you basically just professed your love for him. Heat erupts on your face and in your panic, you grab onto his collar and kiss him, hard at first, but then you’re both moving in unison with a rare softness you don’t always get to experience from him. 

Suddenly he pulls back with a pained grunt, and he slides down the wall until he’s sitting on the floor. 

“Cal, are you okay? What’s wrong?” You kneel down beside him, and you lift his face to look at him. Once again, you’re met with blue eyes, this time like an ocean about to erupt into stormy waves. He’s close to tears, and he looks so scared, so small, it breaks your heart. If only you knew how to mend the broken pieces of his soul, you’d kiss them all better if you could. 

“I’m sorry I stayed away so long,” he suddenly says, hugging you into his chest. “I just couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you again. What if I don’t snap back in time? What if I do something worse?”

You rack your brains for something reassuring to say, and finally land on something.

“You know, as a kid I used to have this recurring nightmare,” you start, hoping to not only get your point across better with your story, but also getting him out of the rabbit hole he was about to go down. “I kept dreaming that my parents abandoned me. We would all be together somewhere, and I looked away for a moment, but by the time I turned back around, they were gone. And I would feel so alone, and full of dread, I felt like I was going crazy. I’d often wake up screaming and crying.”

You take a moment to gauge his reaction; talking about your pasts has been kind of a taboo topic between you two. He openly said once that he doesn’t want to talk about his past, which you respect, but it also meant he never asked questions about yours. Maybe he’s scared to know more because it would reawaken memories of his own. Maybe he just doesn’t want to pry. Maybe he doesn’t care. Either way, you’re now crossing that invisible line and hope it won’t scare him away completely.

“No matter how much my parents reassured me that they wouldn’t abandon me, it always played out the same,” you continue your story. “One night, I was so scared of having the nightmare again, that I straight up refused to go to sleep. That’s when my mother told me this: sometimes, dreams are just your mind and soul processing something that actually happened. But other times, it’s the mind’s way of trying to find closure for something that hasn’t happened. So even if the dream isn’t nice, you have to wait until the end. Only then will your mind be able to tell you what it needs, even if it’s something you don’t want to hear.”

Wiping the silent tears off of Cal’s cheeks, you give him a comforting smile.

“And I know this doesn’t compare in any way to the nightmares you have,” you say. “But, maybe, you just need to let them play out. What if it’s your subconscious trying to tell you something and you cut it off before it has a chance to? What if… it’s the Force trying to tell you something important?”

This seems to click in some way with Cal, and he takes a moment to think over your words.

“Whatever happens, when you wake up you won’t be alone. I promise”, you assure him.

Cal is about to say something, when his eyes shut closed and he claims his head hurts again. He blinks a couple of times, holding his head, and his eyes switch between greenish blue and yellow. 

“Don’t block it out,” you encourage him, removing his hands from his temples and bringing them to your face instead. “I take back what I said earlier. You can be greedy, but not out there. Be greedy with me. Take everything you want, Cal. As much as you need. It’s all for you.”

He blinks one, two more times, his eyes fully reverted to their usual fiery yellow, and the fear from before is completely gone, now replaced with something sharp and dark.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he says through gritted teeth, his whole body trembling in anticipation or self-control, maybe both.

“But I do,” you reassure him, climbing over his legs so you’re sitting on his lap, and gently press your forehead against his. “That yearning is eating you up from the inside. You’re hurting. It doesn’t have to be like that.”

Cal’s hands wander from your cheeks over your shoulders, down your arms, until they rest on your waist. He looks up at you, still a little unsure, and you roll your hips against his to further encourage him and tell him it’s okay. You both can’t help the low moans that escape your lips.

“It’s okay, Cal,” you whisper, leaning in and stopping just above his lips, where you feel his shaky breath. “Consume me until there’s nothing left.”

That seems to snap him back to his usual, more dominant self that he is in intimate moments like this. Adjusting your position in his lap, he presses your body into his, kissing you passionately. It’s just as intense as your make-out sessions usually are, but there’s something else lingering as well. You can’t quite describe it, but it’s like there’s a newfound meaning behind his actions. As if he is trying to pour his whole being and soul into it in an attempt to reach you. And it does. In fact, he’s using all his senses, Force included, to breathe in all of you, and his presence envelops you like it never has before.

You start undoing both your uniforms, and you pull back for a moment to take a much needed breather. 

“You’re doing great,” you pant, not really thinking about what you’re saying as you try to undo the clasps and buttons as fast as your trembling hands will allow. “Such a good boy for me.”

To say that his whimper takes you by surprise, is an understatement. You stop your movements and pull back a little more to take in the image before you: Cal’s partially exposed chest is rising and sinking rapidly, a violent blush spreading from the tip of his ears all the way down to his sternum. His usual confidence and cockiness seem gone, and biting his bottom lip, hair completely dishevelled, he gives you a flustered look you’ve never seen on him.

“Don’t call me that,” he breathes, trying to pull you closer again so you can’t look at him.

“Call you what, a good boy?” you tease him, and his whole body tenses up under you as he takes a sharp breath. “I think you rather like it, no? Being such a good boy for me. C’mon, keep going.”

He relentlessly attacks your neck just the way he knows you like, biting and licking and nibbling along your pulse. 

“Ah, kriff, these uniforms, I swear–” you curse under your breath into Cal’s temple, trying to rid yourself of your jacket without losing contact with him. You only manage to push it down to your elbows. Cal’s hands slip under your shirt and start wandering up and up. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, goosebumps erupting on your arms and back as you arch yourself into his hold. Another moan escapes your throat as he bites down hard, immediately licking the darkened spot. You finally manage to shake off your jacket and–

Your comlink beeps and you groan. Cal seems unbothered, as he’s still going, now moving back up to finding your lips, tongue darting out to meet yours. After blindly tapping around to find the device in a pocket of your discarded jacket, you take it out and look at the caller ID. Your blood freezes when you recognise it to be your boss. Right, you’re in a maintenance shaft half naked with the inquisitor when you should be at your office. 

Shoving Cal away begrudgingly, he growls in annoyance, about to flick the still beeping comlink out of your hand.

“Wait, wait, it could be important,” you say through heavy breaths, trying to calm yourself down enough to sound somewhat normal. Cal merely pushes his face into your chest with a defeated sigh. After clearing your throat, you take the call.

“Took you long enough, officer,” your boss says in a clearly annoyed tone that makes you cringe slightly.

“Sorry, Sir, I was, uh, occupied,” you stumble over your words and mentally slap yourself. Cal doesn’t even try to hide his snort at your response. You smack him lightly on the back of his head.

“Whatever you were doing, officer,” the man says in a way that he knows exactly what you were doing and with whom. “Prepare your things and get ready, you’re to leave for an off-planet mission by tonight.”

“Yes, Sir,” you reply, instinctively straightening your back.

“You’re to meet us at the hangar by 1900 hours. And officer,” he adds with a sigh, his voice adopting a strange tone of embarrassment, almost. “If inquisitor Kestis happens to be there, tell him to come as well.”

“Understood, Sir,” Cal replies with no qualms, and you’re petrified. 

After one more sigh and some unintelligible curses, your boss hangs up. 

You blink a couple of times, trying to recover from the shock. Great, now your boss knows for sure what you were up to. 

“We’re not done here,” Cal says, as he places one last kiss on the corner of your mouth and stands up, helping you get on your feet as well. “We’ll pick up where we left off later.”

“At a different location though, I would hope,” you chuckle as you two get ready to leave the little room.

After a quick detour to the nearest washroom, where you both fix your messy hair and uniforms (his smirk as you’re barely able to cover all the hickeys with your propped up collar will be the end of you), and one to your office for you to pick up some supplies, you make your way to the hangar. A group of people is already waiting for you two; two purge troopers, two stormtroopers of your own squad your boss stand next to Cal’s ship, a zeta-class shuttle: black, sleek and menacing. 

After the debrief, you review the data on your holopad. It’s a mission on another planet, and you’re always excited to get one of those, as you don’t get to go out “into the field” often. In this case there’s a possible rebel cell, but their transmissions are set up in a way that decoding them from the Fortress Inquisitorius would take a considerable amount of time, so it’s quicker to get close to the base and physically infiltrate their comms system to get the information you need. Additionally, there’s been a tip about a possible Jedi being hidden within the rebel group, that’s why they’re sending an inquisitor as well. You’re to stay on the ship working on the decryption while they do their thing.

The ship takes off, and once you’re far enough, you make the jump into hyperspace. During the trip, both the purge troopers and Cal sit unnervingly still, probably power napping and saving their energy for the possible fight ahead. Your two troopers are in the cockpit flying the ship and having a chat, so you have a lot of time for yourself. You mainly work on preparing your equipment, revising your software and getting all the tools you’d need ready. It doesn’t take long for you to have everything prepped; the moment you’d enter the planet’s atmosphere, your scans would tell you the rebel’s comm system location within seconds, and once you land, you can head right out to hook up your own tech. There’s still a good portion of waiting after you’re done though, and with the constant hyperspace humming, you find yourself dozing on and off, replaying the earlier conversation you had with Cal in your mind, wondering how to act and what to say once you get back to base. 

After what feels like an eternity, the piloting troopers finally announce you’re here. The drop out of hyperspace shakes you slightly, and as you look out the window, you see your goal: a small planet on the very edge of the Outer Rim; you’ve never been this far away from the Core Worlds, and as you see the vast expanse of pitch black void surrounding it, you notice the lack of starts in the distance, and you almost let yourself be swallowed by the dread that runs a cold shiver down your spine. Shaking your head, you rid yourself of any distracting thoughts and get to work. As expected, your holopad is already beeping, alerting you that it found your target location. You stand up from your seat and approach the cockpit, for which you have to walk past Cal. His helmet visor is aimed at the floor in front of his feet, and he doesn’t look up as you walk by. For all you know, his eyes could be trained on you though; there’s no way to know for sure. 

Standing between the pilot seats, you show one of the troopers the coordinates on your holopad, and he punches them into the console. Holding onto the back of the seat, you stand there as the ship approaches the area you marked, and the landing is swift and almost motionless. So this is what the good ships feel like, you think to yourself. And the troopers seem to be thinking the same, if the slow whistle coming from one of them is anything to go by.

You turn around to go inform the purge troopers you’re here, but Cal is already standing in front of you, blocking your exit from the cockpit. 

“My men and I will look for our target, you two stay here,” he says as he points at the two stormtroopers. Then he gestures towards you with his head. “The officer is in charge while I’m gone, and better be unharmed when I come back, understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” they respond in unison. 

Cal seems to linger on your form for a second longer, then turns on his heels. The cargo door opens and the smell of humid, tropical air reaches your nose. Cal and his troopers take off, and you nod to yourself with an ‘alright’, as you get to work. Connecting a couple of wires here and there, you call one of the troopers to you.

“We need to bring this–” you point at your contraption. “–to the base of this structure.” You show him the red dot on the holomap at the edge of a water body. “That seems to be the backbone of their communication system. There have to be wires that we can hook the machine into.”

“Understood.”

He picks up the machine and starts heading out. You gather a couple more tools, throw them into your bag and sling it over your shoulder. As you approach the cargo door, you turn to the other trooper one last time.

“You stay here and hold down the fort. Keep the usual channels open for us and for C- Inquisitor Kestis.”

“Yes, Sir!” 

And off you go.

After a while, you get to the point at the cliff as indicated by your holomap. Both you and the stormtrooper stand at the ledge, carefully looking down. At the base, a broad river runs along the cliffside. Scanning the rocky walls with your eyes, you find what you’re looking for.

“Jackpot,” you say, pointing at something, and the trooper follows your line of sight. “That’s our transmitter.”

It’s essentially a big metal box built into the side of the cliff, with an antenna on one side and a rather wonky satellite dish on the other, partially hidden under a rocky overhang. You’d have to climb down quite a bit to reach it.

“We didn’t bring any climbing equipment,” the trooper points out. 

“We improvise,” you retort with a shrug.

You take the rope out of your bag and tie one end to a nearby tree that looks sturdy enough, and the other around your legs and waist.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Sir,” the stormtrooper starts. “If anything happens to you, Inquisitor Kestis will–” He’s stopped by the stern look you shoot him. 

“I know how to take care of myself, trooper,” You say firmly. “Now, help me get down there.” 

You plug in one of the thicker wires into your machine, holding the other end between your teeth. The trooper helps you climb down the cliffside step by step, slowly letting you down. Once you reach the desired point by the transmitter, you take the wire out of your mouth.

“Here’s good! Hold it there!” you call. A  grunt is all the response you get. 

You plug in the wire, and your holopad starts beeping, starting to intercept the messages. But they’re not written words, voices or even proper sounds, it just sounds and looks like static. 

“Guess I have to calibrate my receiver,” you think aloud. “Pull me up!”

Climbing back up the way you came, you untie the rope the moment you find your footing again, which left a slight stinging sensation at the back of your legs, and you absent-mindedly rub your bum to alleviate the sensation. You notice the trooper giving you a strange look, and heat spreads on your face.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” you say as you straighten up, looking for an order to give. “Go, uh, go collect the rope.”

“Yes, Sir…” he responds with a snicker.

You roll your eyes, but you’re not really mad at him. That must have just looked really funny. Either way, time to get to work: you kneel down next to your contraption, holding your holopad next to it, adjusting some levels here and pressing buttons there. But no matter how much you try to isolate the signal, it still doesn’t get cleaner or clearer.

The trooper places the neatly tied up rope next to your bag which you left on the ground, then holds up his blaster, undoing the safety. You look up at him in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” 

“I’m not sure…” he answers. “I have a bad feeling about this place. Let’s get what we came for and go back to the ship.”

“Okay…” you stretch out the word, unsure what put him on edge like that. Yes, there’s known aggressive fauna here, but all in all the planet is abandoned, there's no particular danger. Not documented, anyway. You keep looking at the static on your holopad, trying to make sense of it. But the more you see, the less random it seems. That’s when it dawns on you. 

Suddenly, you furiously type away on your pad, trying to translate the encoded message, but it’s just gibberish. You tilt your head in confusion, revising your translation; it should be right. But it isn’t. Why?...

“Oh!” You say after a few more seconds, getting up to your feet so quickly that it almost makes you dizzy. “Oh, this is actually quite brilliant. Ah, these rebels sure are getting crafty. Come here, you’re gonna love this.”

The stormtrooper shoots one last look over his shoulder into the vegetation, then turns to you, still holding tightly onto his blaster.

“You ever heard of Dadita?” you ask, not bothering to hide your excitement.

“No?”

“Of course you haven’t,” you say with a click of your tongue. “It’s an ancient Mandalorian code consisting of short and long bursts of static, where each combination stands for a letter. But these rebels combined it with Mon Calamari blink code, which is the same principles but with light sequences. They used Dadita static, but the sequences actually correspond to the blink code letters. No wonder back at HQ they thought we couldn’t intercept proper comms. It’s made to look like static.”

“Uh-huh,” is all you get out of the trooper, still nervously looking around.

“C’mon, this is cool,” you try, but to no avail. Sighing in defeat, you add, “You know what, nevermind. Let’s just go back.”

At least Cal will show interest in your find. Or so you hope. Speaking of, you wonder how he’s doing. You know you shouldn’t ping him as it could interfere with his mission, but you just hope they made it back safely to the ship by the time you’re there.

“Contact the ship, will you? And tell them we’re going back,” you instruct. The trooper presses some buttons on the console on his wrist.

“Ground team to ship, do you copy?”

The only answer is static.

You look in the direction of the ship as the trooper tries again, and you feel something cold on your nose, then on your cheek. You look up; it’s starting to rain. Great. Your machine shouldn’t have trouble with a little rain, but you still don’t feel great about it. You kinda made it up on the spot, so there are a couple of exposed wires. 

“We need to go get something to cover the receiver. Any answer yet?” you ask, and it’s really starting to come down now. You have to blink several times to get the water out of your eyes.

“No,” he responds, nervously looking around. “I told you, something is wrong.”

“Okay, no need to panic,” to try to calm him down; his demeanour is starting to make you nervous as well. “Let’s just quickly go back; I'm pretty sure I saw a piece of canvas that we can use to–” You sling your bag back onto your shoulders as you speak, but the inertia of the bag makes you lose your balance for a second, and with the ground now turning into mud, your boot loses its grip on the ground, making you slip and your knees give out under you. 

“Officer!” You hear the stormtrooper call as he stretches out his arm in a vain attempt to catch you, but you’re already falling backwards off the cliff. Seemingly in slow motion, the trooper and the treeline disappear from your view, being replaced by a grey, cloudy sky. You close your eyes, feeling the droplets on your face and the air rushing by your ears, and you’re strangely calm. All you can think of is Cal.

Are you okay? I wish we had properly made up before this. 

When your back hits the water of the river at the base of the cliff, your survival instincts are awoken all at once. The current is stronger than what it seemed from up the ledge. You swim with all your might, trying to stay afloat and taking gulps of air whenever you can. it isn't long until your arms are burning from the sudden effort, and you scan your surroundings, desperate to find something to hold onto. The river seems to open up and away from the cliffside. Here, the shores are filled with mangrove-like trees, their roots thick and plenty, some of them stretching out like low-hanging branches over the water surface. You try to hold on to one, but your gloves don't provide much of a grip, so you take them off and ditch them. Nearing the next big branch, you ready yourself and throw your upper body out of the water so that you can hold onto it with both your arms, and it works. Slowly, you inch closer and closer to the tree trunk, until you reach the shore. Letting yourself fall onto the mossy ground, you take some deep breaths trying to calm down your breathing, racing heart and aching limbs.

You pat your uniform and conclude that you lost your bag somewhere along the way, which had your holopad and all your equipment. You sit up and wipe the back of your sleeve over your eyes, but the constant rain keeps hitting your face. You pop open the collar of your uniform and it feels like ridding yourself of a chokehold. The uniforms were never particularly comfortable, being on the stiff side, but drenched like this, it’s much worse.

Looking around, you stand up; you have no idea where you are or where the ship could be. Giving yourself one more pat down, you find your comlink in one of your zipped up pockets, and thank the Maker under your breath. 

“Hello? Does anyone copy?”

You can hear static, so you assume that it is working, but it’s the mic or speaker, or both that are ruined. At least from the ship they should be able to locate you with it. 

A gust of wind makes you shiver slightly; despite it being a rather tropical climate, being completely wet does make you feel the dropping temperatures that will probably await you at night. In fact, it’s starting to get dark. 

They’ll find me. It’s fine. I just have to make sure I’m alive by the time they get here, hah, you tell yourself with a wry chuckle. 

First thing you have to do is seek shelter from the relentless rain. Hugging yourself, you cringe at the sensation of your feet against the wet boots, but you still take step after step into the vegetation, looking for some place to dry off. Completely lost and giving up on the idea of ever getting out of this maze by yourself, the only information you keep in your head is the direction of the river; you'll be needing water after all. For now, you could just drink rain water though, so you venture further and further away into the forest. With the dense branches sporting big, round leaves, they already stop part of the rain, but not enough. Finally, you come across a big tree, the roots lifted into the air so that they form something akin to a cage, and the ground beneath it is dry; that's exactly what you need.

Hurrying through the gaps between the roots, you take off your boots, jacket and trousers, giving everything a good squeeze to wring as much water out as possible. Left in your underwear and a black short sleeve shirt, you wonder what to do next. You’d need food soon. You sigh, leaning back onto the rough surface of the tree.

“This is exactly why I wanted an office job,” you say bitterly. So much for being excited about a mission ‘on the field’. 

For now, you decide to wait out the rain, which could hopefully stop just as suddenly as it started, and you just sit there, holding your comlink in your hands, looking at it intently. 

After a while, the rain finally seems to subside, and while your clothes are nowhere dry, you don’t exactly want to explore a jungle half naked. So you put your trousers back on, which takes a while, as the wet fabric keeps sticking to your legs. After what feels like another workout, you finally zip them up, and put on your equally wet boots. Oh, how you crave a warm shower right now. 

Taking the jacket into your hands, you feel the wet fabric and decide to leave it. Your skin dried much faster, so it was better to be a little cold without a jacket than very cold with a drenched one. Placing your comlink into your pocket, you go foraging for some sort of fruit or berry. After the rain and with no equipment, you doubt you’d be able to start a fire to cook anything, so you have to find something you can eat raw. 

As you’re picking some reddish purple berries from a bush and contemplating if you can eat them, you hear some rustling behind you. Dropping the berries and immediately turning around, you’re met with a human and you notice several things. First of all, they’re holding their side, which is bleeding a lot, their clothes stained in a dark red. Second, you see the lightsabre in their hand, emitting a blueish hue, its electric hum the only sound aside of their ragged breathing. And third, you see the plea in their deep brown eyes, silently asking you for help. Almost in the same moment, you also see their eyes dart down to your uniform and back up to your own, realisation spreading on their face. And you’re conflicted.

You know who’s after them. You know what’s going to happen. So it’s not like you don’t want to help; you can’t. If the circumstances were different, would you help? You realise you don’t want to know the answer to that. Either way, you're unarmed, hungry and shivering, so you can't really put up much of a fight against them either. 

“I'm sorry,” you say instead, and you're not really sure which part you're apologising for. You're about to take a step to the side and gesture them to go past you, but you hear footsteps approaching quickly.

The stranger winces in pain as they try to take another step, but collapse onto the ground, the sabre retracting with a whirr. They look up at you again, this time enraged, a deep frown etched into their face, and you're about to say something, but a modulated voice is quicker.

“Officer, what are you doing here?” It’s the purge trooper.

“I- I fell,” you say sheepishly. He scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head.

“Well, good job stopping our target. It’s a slippery one, this one.”

The trooper picks up the sabre, and turns around the Jedi onto their back with his boot, earning a pained grunt. From behind him emerges Cal out of the vegetation, and you’re horrified at how he looks: helmet gone, hair wild, and face partially covered in blood. If it’s his own or not, you can’t tell. He looks frustrated and beyond angry. You’re about to say something, asking if he’s okay, but the sharp look in his eyes freezes you in your spot. 

“It’s the end of the line now, Jedi,” he spits through gritted teeth, and holds his red lightsabre a little tighter. He shoots you a quick look, then at his trooper, and motions with his head to the side. The man nods and turns to you, grabbing you by your bicep, and starts dragging you away. 

“Wait, wait!” You try to turn back around, but the trooper’s grip keeps facing you forward. When you reach a thick tree, he slams your back into it rather harshly, and tells you to stay there. He doesn’t move from in front of you, holding onto his electrostaff with both hands. It emits an electric crackle of purplish hue, clearly warning you not try anything funny. And to be honest, you don't have the energy right now, so you just rest the back of your head against the bark. You can hear the stranger starting to plead for their life, trying to get under Cal’s skin, saying something about a time before being an inquisitor, but Cal is fresh out of patience, and the Jedi chokes on their words. Their laboured breathing fills this corner of the jungle, and after the sound of a lightsabre swinging and the distinct sizzling of flesh, there is silence.

The purge trooper stretches his neck to see past the tree, then gestures to you with a quick nod.

“Let’s go,” he says, and you comply.

Cal stands in front of the body, partially shielding it from your view, and you walk past him as well, following the trooper. As you three make your way back, you notice there's no trace of the second purge trooper that had left with them.

“The other one's dead,” Cal says before you can even ask, and gets handed the Jedi’s lightsabre, which he clips onto his belt. “Why are you down here? And where's your jacket?” You sigh.

“I fell,” you say, and it still sounds as stupid as it did before. “I slipped, and fell down the cliff. I left my jacket by the river. But before that I did get the receiver hooked up and I know how to decrypt the messages. Do you know if my squad made it back to the ship?”

“Don’t know, our comms don't really seem to work down here.” He suddenly stops and looks around, gesturing to a different direction, and the purge trooper takes off through the bushes. Cal turns back to you, and you shoot him a questioning look. 

“You fell from a cliff? Just what were you doing.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly distressed by your reckless actions. “I pinged you several times, and you didn't answer. I knew it probably was the signal being jammed but… I thought that– What if–”

“Hey, it's okay. I'm okay.” You place your hand on his chest and that's when you notice several gashes on his uniform. “Are you okay, though?”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, his worry replaced by exasperation.

“You really shouldn't have–”

He stops in the middle of his sentence and takes a quick step back away from you as both your heads turn towards the sound of approaching footsteps. The purge trooper approaches Cal and hands him his helmet. Or what's left of it, anyway. The visor is broken, the part that sits above the jaw seems to have been sliced off entirely, and there are several dents on the other side. Your eyes meet Cal’s again in worry, but he avoids your gaze entirely. 

“Let’s move.”

The trek back to the ship is quick, as per the relentless pace of the two men. There are some obstacles on the way though, where you need a little help. When crossing a river with a particularly strong current, you lose your footing on the rocky riverbed, and find yourself holding onto the next best thing, which happens to be the purge trooper. He lets you hold him as he guides you across to the other side, where he quickly shakes you off. You wonder if he’s really that uncomfortable to be close to you, and you make a mental note not to ask purge troopers for anything in the future, especially if it entailed physical contact of any kind. But what you didn't see were the Force daggers that Cal was stabbing into the back of the poor man’s head.

Not long after the river, you come face to face with an abrupt slope with a flat, rocky surface. It’s almost like a wall, leading to the plateau above. It’s too high to jump and too even to climb, so you wonder how you will get up there. Once again, Cal seems to read your mind, as before you can even ask, you see him essentially levitating up and onto the ledge above. Now that's a handy Force trick. You expect him to throw down a rope or something for you to hold onto, but instead, you're being lifted off the ground by an invisible force, as is the trooper next to you. Once you reach the top, you’re gently placed back on solid ground, while the trooper is let go far earlier, which he is unprepared for, so he falls forward and onto his knees with a grunt. But he gets back up onto his feet without complaints or remarks, simply dusting off his thighs and continuing the way back to the ship. You want to scold Cal a little for being unnecessarily mean, but the harshness still etched into his face, now stained with dry and flaky patches of blood, refrains you from making any comments. 

Finally, you make it back to a place you recognise, where the ship isn’t far away. You run off first, despite your muscles screaming in pain to finally give them some rest. The cargo door is closed, and you bang your hand on it twice.

“Open up!” you order, and the ramp opens with a mechanical hiss, then gets lowered down. You quickly climb up before it even completely reaches the ground.  

“Officer!” both stormtroopers exclaim in unison and in apparent relief when they see you alive and in one piece. One of them runs off to the equipment storage to get a blanket for you, and you gladly accept it. Only now do you realise how cold and stiff your whole body feels. 

“Have you been intercepting the messages?” you ask, grabbing a spare holopad to log into your receiver’s software to start decrypting. 

“Yes, and as you said, it’s a coded transmission made with static bursts” the first trooper explains, the one you had been on the cliff with. “I covered up the receiver with the canvas as you asked, and we’ve been monitoring it this whole time, but we didn’t know how to decrypt it without you…”

“That’s okay, that’s my job after all.” You playfully shove your elbow into his side. “I’m just glad you’re both alive.” You smile genuinely at them, and you wonder if they're smiling back at you from under their helmets as well. The Empire may think that stormtroopers are easily replaceable, but this is your squad. And you intend to take care of them.

You take a step back to take a seat and start decrypting, but your back bumps into something, or rather someone. You turn around just in time to see Cal gesture to the purge trooper, who once again merely gives a short nod, then heads to the cockpit.

“Let’s get out of here,” is the last thing you hear him say before the cockpit and cargo doors close with a hiss, and the engines start.

Cal and you just stand there for a moment, looking at each other. 

“Are you going to say something?,” you go first. “Because if not, I have work to do.”

You sit down and he doesn't stop you, instead taking a seat next to you. You type away on the holopad, letter by letter, and the message starts forming. By typing with both hands you’re quicker, but the blanket keeps slipping down from your shoulders. Cal notices and picks it up, wrapping your form in it properly again, and then leaving his arm around you so it would stay there. You give him a quick ‘thanks’, but don't stop what you're doing. For a moment you wonder if you're giving him the silent treatment, and if so, why, but you really have to get this thing decrypted, so you focus on that for the time being. 

At some point, Cal carefully places his head on your shoulder, and when you don't shoo him away, he properly gets comfortable. By then, you've written a program to automate the decoding. It's a bit crude and not your best, but it works. Now the decrypted message appears much faster, and it seems to be mostly correct, except for the occasional letter here and there. The message is still clear and understandable, though, and you can feel your focus and energy quickly depleting, so you decide it’s good enough for now. You set it up so that the live decryption gets sent back to HQ as your receiver feeds the rebel comms into it.

Setting down your holopad on the seat next to you with a yawn, you gently stroke Cal’s cheek.

“You awake?” you ask softly, and he hums.

“You done?” he asks back, and you hum as well.

Then you sit in silence again. The constant rumbling of the ship, combined with your adrenaline completely gone now, is all inviting you to the sweet embrace of sleep.

“We have to talk when we get back,” is the last thing you manage to mumble before drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

— — —

You wake up to your shoulder being shaken and the repeated call of your name. Your eyes shoot open and you sit up straight, immediately slumping back down with a wince as your whole body aches, both because of the whole river action earlier, and sleeping in such a weird position. 

Standing up with a grunt, you shiver as you look down at yourself: still without a jacket, your boots and trousers are stained with dirt, moss and sand. Your upper half must look even worse. Especially with the marks on your neck and who knows where else, courtesy of the inquisitor himself. So you grab the blanket and wrap it around yourself like a hooded poncho of sorts, hoping to hide most of your face and dirty clothes.

“I called earlier and they're waiting with a stretcher for you at the hangar,” Cal says as you try to hide both your head and legs, but the blanket clearly isn't big enough for that. You turn around with a raised eyebrow. “They're going to wrap you up and take you straight to medbay. So no one will see you.”

“How–”

“I may or may not have said that you might have a slight case of hypothermia.”

“We were on a planet with tropical climate,” you retort.

“I was convincing,” is all he says.

You can't question him further, as you feel the familiar sway of a landing ship. When it hits the ground with a ‘clunk’, everything happens so quickly: the cockpit and cargo doors open, and Cal suddenly picks you up bridal style. He places you onto the promised stretcher which is already waiting at the base of the ramp, and two med troopers quickly wrap you up in an emergency foil blanket. Just like that, you're taken to the medbay. 

After your check-up, they tell you that other than being a little shaken and dehydrated, you're fine. You're free to stay a little longer to rest up, but you can also leave if you feel like it. And just like that, you're alone in the little room. How Cal managed to convince them to give you the private medbay room, you still don't know. But at this point, you should probably be used to it. Inquisitors seem to get almost anything they want here. Albeit at a cost.

The cot is decently comfy, and you consider staying here for a couple more hours to nap and rest up, knowing you won't be interrupted. So you get comfortable with a sigh, and just as you find a good position to sleep in, the doors open. You groan, lifting the blanket over your face. 

“I thought you were asleep,” Cal says as the doors close behind him and he approaches your bed. 

“I was about to be,” you reply with a sigh and fold the blanket back down to sit up properly. You're about to ask him what he wants, when you see that he’s sporting several bandages, one on his jaw, and some on his torso, visible through the white shirt he’s wearing. 

“Are you okay?,” you ask and scoot over on the bed to make what little room you can spare for him to sit. However, he stays where he stands.

“Just a couple of scratches, I’ve had worse,” he replies, but it doesn’t make you feel better. “What about you?”

“Well, it’s not hypothermia,” you joke, in an attempt to ease the strange tension building between the two of you, but he doesn’t react. “I’ve basically been discharged. I was just about to nap, but… what is it?”

He looks at you as if he didn’t know what you mean. But the whole time, he’s been chewing the inside of his cheek. Clearly something is on his mind, and right now you don't have the energy to play the back and forth game.

“You want to tell me something, right? So, tell me.” You want to sound trusting, but it comes out harsher than you meant. He seems slightly taken aback.

“You said earlier you wanted to talk,” he retorts defensively. “And I understand.”

“What do you mean?”

He hesitates for a second.

“We don’t need to keep–” He looks for the right word. “–seeing each other.”

You pause for a moment, trying to dig deeper behind his words and try to get the real meaning out, but you're lost and rather shocked by his words.

“What do you mean?” you repeat yourself, alarmed.

He sighs, running his hand through his hair; he's nervous.

“I didn’t want you to see it,” he starts, avoiding looking at you. “It’s a side of me I didn't want you to see.”

“Oh,” you say, and you understand what he's getting at; the whole hunting and killing Jedi business. 

“What do you mean, ‘oh’?” he asks, his eyes finding yours and narrowing them at you. “Isn’t that what you wanted to talk about?”

“I mean, we can talk about it if you want to. I–” You sheepishly fidget with your fingers on your lap. You actually wanted to talk about how he treats his purge troopers, but this is far more important, you realise. “Yeah, let’s talk about that.”

Before he can inquire what you actually meant to talk about, you gesture for him to sit next to you. He still doesn’t move.

“Please sit,” you insist, and finally, he does. With the extra weigh dipping the mattress, you kind of lean into his side. You keep talking, both of you looking ahead. “Everything I said earlier, it still stands, you know.”

He doesn’t respond, so you continue.

“About the… warmth. And you being you and still deserving it.” You gingerly place your hand over his, and he momentarily flinches, but doesn’t pull away. “I’m not stupid, Cal. I know what you do. I’ve been aware of it from the start. And I simply don’t care. It’s not like my job is any better. My work also has… certain consequences, for others. And I’ve made peace with it.”

Finally you dare look up at him, his gaze still cast down. You can feel him trembling slightly though.

“You may be an inquisitor to others, but to me you're just Cal.” You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back. “Cal who makes pancakes with me. Cal who calls in a stretcher for me so I can save myself the embarrassment of my boss seeing me being a dirty, flustered mess. Cal who would stab someone else for looking at me the wrong way.”

He chuckles lightly at that. You reach out to cup his face, and make him look at you.

“But also the Cal who has nightmares. Cal who is sometimes scared out of his mind. Cal who asks me to stay the night because he doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. I want all of them.” You pause for a second, but you’re too tired to fight the question that’s been pestering your mind for ages now. “And all those versions of Cal… they give me warmth too. Right?”

His shoulders slump slightly with a sharp exhale.

“They do,” he finally answers in a voice so small you almost miss it. 

“Glad we could clear that up then,” you say just as softly, and close the gap to place a kiss to his lips, and he reciprocates so tenderly, holding your face like it could crumble any moment and disappear through his fingers. 

You want to pull back from the kiss, but his lips follow yours, capturing them once again. Cal climbs on top of you, pushing you back down onto the mattress.

“Don’t you want to get back to–” you try offering to move to a better location, but your words are interrupted by the squeal you let out as he pinches your side. 

“We have to make up for lost time,” he states, getting back to attacking you with kisses, each one more and more ferocious.

You hear the distinct hiss of the doors opening, but Cal is quick to close them again with a quick flick of his wrist. From the other side, you can hear the nurse complaining. 

“The officer is busy,” Cal calls over his shoulder, looking down at you the way a predator looks at its prey. “Come back later.” 

— — —

Later that night, after a shower and slipping into your comfiest PJs, you’re both in his bed. Cal lies on his back and you have your head on his chest, drawing random figures onto his shirt. 

“Are you sure about this?” Cal asks for the hundredth time. 

“Yes,” you reassure him, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can place a kiss on his nose. “I’ll talk you through it. Just, try to stay in the dream. It will all work out, I promise.” 

“Right,” he sighs, closing his eyes, and takes a deep breath. 

You get back to cuddling into his side, and the even drumming of his heartbeat does quick work of lulling you to sleep.

It doesn’t take long, however, and you wake up to Cal twitching again. His brows are furrowed, his hands holding onto the bedsheet for dear life, and you sit up next to him, caressing his hair and holding his hand, whispering words of encouragement.

Cal is back on Bracca, collecting scraps from the same ships that he used to call home back when he was a Padawan. That seems so long ago now. Lifetimes ago. And maybe it is. 

What would his younger self think of what he is now? 

Cal stands at the edge of the partially stripped apart engine, impossibly small against the size of the machinery. A voice calls out to him, and he turns around. The world around him spins, turning into a blinding white, and he shields his eyes from the sudden change with his hands. 

“Why are you here?” a trembling voice asks.

Cal looks up, meeting his own eyes, still a greenish blue, of his 13-year-old self. Disappointment and horror etched into his little face.

“What have you done?” another voice spits condescendingly.

Cal whips around, now looking at his master, Jaro Tapal, looking at him in disgust. 

“Cal!” 

He turns around again, starting to get dizzy, and his body freezes up, he can’t breathe. He’s standing at the edge of a scrapper platform now, surrounded by other people he used to know, but all their faces are blurred or scratched out. However, he can clearly see Prauf, his good friend Prauf, confronting the Second Sister. She holds her sabre at his throat, the blade sizzling in the rain. The red hue reflects in Prauf’s eyes.

Cal instinctively reaches out to his belt, expecting to find his own lightsabre, but it’s not there. He looks down at himself, and sees that he’s donning full inquisitor armour. 

“Kill him,” the Second Sister orders.

Finally, Cal seems to be able to move and breathe again, and he takes a huge gulp of air. 

“I said, kill him,” she repeats.

“No,” Cal says, and she slowly turns around to him. 

“No?”, she chuckles, but the venom spills out of her voice like an overflowing glass of spotchka. It burns. 

Suddenly, Cal is shoved in her direction against his will, and his inquisitor lightsabre appears in his hand. His arm is lifted into the air by an invisible force, about to swing down on top of Prauf’s head. 

“Do it!” she yells, and Cal screams as well, trying with all his might to hold back his arm. 

He hates this, he wants out. It hurts too much. The force trying to push down his arm and the sad look in his friend’s eyes tear into his heart like iron claws, shredding everything in its way.

Cal can hear the Second Sister’s voice yelling, urging him to get it done, but he hears something else too: it’s you. Your voice cuts through the cacophony of the scrapping grounds, pushing away all sounds of machinery, drills, saws, the rain itself and the inquisitor’s voice. Shoving it all aside, there’s just you.

“It’s okay, Cal,” you say, and the oppressing force on his arm is lifted with every word of yours. “I’m here, it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re not alone.”

Finally, the force is gone entirely, and he screams in both pain and relief. Cal lets go of his weapon, which retracts mid-air with a whirr, and it falls to the ground. 

The world around him freezes, and everyone disappears. He’s back in the blinding white room, now  in his old scrapper outfit.

“Cal,” Prauf’s voice comes from behind him, and the redhead whips around. 

“My friend,” Prauf says warmly, as he always did, and stretches out his arms. A silent invitation. 

Cal hesitates only for a second, then gives in. Taking the few steps that separate the two, he lets himself be embraced by the Abednedo. Unable to hold back, he cries into his friend’s chest. 

“I’m sorry,” he rasps between sobs. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” the older man comforts him, lightly patting Cal’s back. “It’s not your fault.”

After a few more moments, when Cal’s cries subside, he pulls back to look up at Prauf.

“Why am I here?” he asks.

Prauf smiles down at him.

“I just wanted to let you know: it’s not your fault,” he says, placing his hands on the younger man’s shoulders and giving them a squeeze. “And to say thank you, for being my friend. I hope you found your way off Bracca and can have a peaceful life. You’ve been through so much, kid.”

Cal feels another wave of tears prickling behind his eyes.

“You never really belonged on Bracca, but I’m glad I met you,” Prauf says, his voice trailing off, as if swept off by the wind, as his image also starts disappearing from in front of Cal. “I hope you found your place.”

“No, wait!” he calls, trying to hold on to him, but his hands phase through the shadow of the figure still left.

Suddenly, Cal sits up on the bed with a scream, which takes you by surprise and you flinch backwards, falling onto your hands on the bed. 

He holds his shirt over his heart so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and with a broken sob, he lets himself fall back onto the bed. You hurry to scoot closer.

“You were right,” Cal says between sobs. “The Force was trying to get a message to me.”

That night, you hold him as he cries, this time not out of fear, but because he can finally allow himself to grief the loss of a friend from a long time ago.

I found my place, Prauf, Cal thinks, about to drift off to sleep after the exhaustion of crying takes over. He looks at you lying on his chest one last time, a soft smile spreading on his lips.

He hopes that some day, he’ll be able to find warmth just with you, not needing to resort to other methods ever again. And maybe then, finally, he can offer you all the warmth back that he forgot he held.

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @dybynyght, @galaxtic-writings, @kalea-bane, @soka-writes-things, @padawancat97, @riddikulus-obsessions, @optimisticprime3, @starilicious, @ivelostmyabilitytoeven, @alternatescififandomelover, @lovelyygirl8, @cathyket

[shadamyheadcanons]

Headcanon #296

Cross-posted on AO3.

--

Knuckles’s jaw was clenched, and his arms were crossed tightly over his chest. Amy’s bubbly voice floated in from the loveseat to his right. He scowled straight ahead at the wall in front of him instead of looking at her, knowing he’d only get more irritated if he did.

“Sounds like you two had a good time,” Rouge said from the armchair to Knuckles’s left.

Knuckles could see Amy’s head bob excitedly out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah! And then we went swimming by Emerald Coast,” Amy continued. “The water was beautiful!”

“Aside from the orcas,” a low voice added.

Knuckles whipped his head over without thinking. “Orcas?! Amy, are you—”

Knuckles choked on the last word. Shadow was staring back at him, eyes intense and unreadable. He was sitting directly behind Amy on the loveseat, keeping his knees apart so she could sit between them. His arms were wrapped around her midsection.

Knuckles’s eye twitched.

“Don’t worry!” Amy piped up. “Shadow was keeping an eye on me. He had a Chaos Emerald on hand just in case to warp me out of there.” She beamed over her shoulder at Shadow. He grunted and rested his chin on top of her head.

Knuckles looked away. Rouge’s lips were spread into a subtle smirk.

BEEP

Amy jumped at the sound of the oven timer. “Oh! That must be the surprise I mentioned earlier!” She hopped to her feet. “It’ll be done in just a few minutes.”

“I’ll help,” Shadow said immediately.

“Thanks!” Amy offered a hand to pull him to his feet.

Knuckles started to stand. “I’ll come, too.”

“Nope!” Amy interjected. “Someone has to keep Rouge company.” She winked.

Without another word, Amy dashed off toward her kitchen, pulling a willing Shadow along with her. Knuckles sighed.

He heard the quiet flapping of wingbeats and peeked an eye open to find Rouge had perched on the arm of the couch to lean into his personal space. “She’s turning into a real matchmaker, hmm?”

Knuckles tried to relax his muscles. “Some days, I can’t tell if she’s trying to set me up with you or Sonic.”

Rouge made an interested noise. “Now that’s an idea.”

“I don’t even want to know what you mean by that.”

In front of him, Shadow and Amy had just entered her kitchen. She opened up the oven, but Shadow nudged ahead so he could reach in and extract three cake pans from it for her. When he placed them on the stovetop, she gave him a grateful kiss on the cheek. Shadow wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, far closer than Knuckles would have liked. He grumbled.

Rouge spoke up beside him once more. “Aww, worried about your little sister?”

“She’s not my sister.”

“You don’t have to be shy about it. I think it’s sweet!”

Knuckles ignored her. Through the doorway to the kitchen, he could see Amy take out a bowl of cream from her fridge and lay out a few other ingredients. Shadow, apparently feeling quite at home in Amy’s kitchen, easily located a large mixing bowl and a whisk. She tossed the ingredients into the bowl and started whisking them together at an impressive speed. Shadow muttered something inaudible in Amy’s ear. She smiled brightly, and he stepped over to hold her from behind, peeking over her shoulder as she worked.

Knuckles felt pain in his jaw, cluing him in that he’d been clenching his teeth. He relaxed his jaw, though he kept glaring at Shadow. “Would it kill him to keep his paws to himself?”

Shadow’s ear twitched slightly, making Knuckles wonder if his enhanced hearing was keen enough to pick up on their conversation. He decided he didn’t care.

Rouge shrugged in his peripheral vision. “Aren’t all new couples like that?”

Knuckles snorted. “I expect PDA from Amy, but Shadow? He never touches anyone! And now he’s acting so...”

“Possessive? That’s because he is.”

Knuckles’s face soured. He whipped his head up to meet Rouge’s easy smile. She seemed far too happy about the situation. “You don’t think that’s creepy at all?”

Rouge scoffed and leaned back. “Not one bit. It’s just who he is.”

Knuckles squinted at her. “What do you mean?”

Rouge’s eyes flicked over to the kitchen. She sighed. “When I first met that guy, he had nothing but the shoes on his feet,” she said, keeping her voice low. Her eyes fell shut. “Gerald, G.U.N...they took everything from Shadow. His freedom. His memories. His identity. Everyone who ever cared about him.” Knuckles could see her jaw clench. “All G.U.N.’s ever given him is a goddamn motorcycle, and he loves that thing. Paints it. Maintains it. Polishes it every single weekend. He won’t even let Tails touch it.”

An unwanted pang of sympathy made itself known in Knuckles’s chest. He crossed his arms and tried to ignore it. “What does a bike have to do with Amy?”

Rouge’s eyes opened slowly. She looked as weary as he’d ever seen her. “I’m saying Shadow’s hardly had anything that’s actually his, and when he does, he keeps it close and takes damn good care of it.”

Knuckles paused. Then, he stubbornly turned up his nose. “Still sounds creepy to me.”

Rouge rolled her eyes. She grabbed his shoulder and roughly turned him to face the kitchen. “Is that really what you see?” she hissed.

Amy stood next to the counter. She’d set aside a bowl of some red, sugary substance, seemingly taking a break to hold a strawberry up to Shadow’s mouth. He took a bite right from her hand. After a moment of chewing and contemplation—far too intense for a strawberry, Knuckles thought—Shadow nodded. Amy’s smile was brilliant. He gazed down at her with an obvious softness in his eyes, then held her closer with the arm he still kept around her waist and kissed her fondly.

As he kept kissing her, though—far longer than Knuckles felt was strictly necessary—the memory of Shadow abandoning him to help Black Doom in Glyphic Canyon sprang to mind. Knuckles turned away. “Well, excuse me if I don’t exactly trust the guy. He—”

He was cut off by Rouge’s fierce growl, and her sharp nails stabbed into his shoulder, making him choke.

“I know you’re not about to trash-talk my best friend right in front of my face,” Rouge snapped, her teal eyes flashing in warning. Knuckles shrank back. “Shadow’s a good man, and he’s saved all of our asses more than once, yours included. He’s more than earned our forgiveness.”

Rouge’s wings were flared out behind her, and her fangs were bared. From his position below her on the sofa, Knuckles was bluntly reminded of why so many people were afraid of Rouge. He nodded slowly, eyes wide.

The glare remained on Rouge’s face for several seconds. At last, it faded, and she averted her gaze. The pain in Knuckles’s shoulder disappeared. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, and the pounding of his heart slowed down.

Rouge let out a deep breath. After an extended silence, she spoke up again. “Do you really think Amy would put up with that kind of mistreatment?”

“She put up with Sonic running away from her for years.”

Rouge opened her mouth to reply, but then her expression pinched. “...I guess that’s fair.”

Knuckles slumped. He stared down at his feet. He could feel Rouge watching him, waiting for a response. His throat tightened.

“It’s my fault.”

Rouge’s tone was softer than before. “What are you talking about? Sonic’s the one who ran away.”

Knuckles shook his head. He kept his eyes on the floor. “No. We all did it. Sonic was immature, and Tails was just following him, but what’s my excuse? I was the oldest. I should’ve been the responsible one.”

Rouge rested her hand on his shoulder, gently this time, but Knuckles brushed it off and shook his head. “I told myself it wasn’t my business. I had my island and my Emerald, and they had their world, but...” Knuckles’s face twisted. “I abandoned her just like they did. She got kidnapped over and over, and Sonic never learned. He left her behind every time.” Knuckles snarled and punched his palm. “If I’d just knocked some sense into him, if I’d just been there for her...stood up for her—”

“Knuckles...”

His muscles went limp, and his eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t have the right to call myself her brother. Any halfway decent older brother would have protected her.”

He remained there for a while, just staring into his hands.

Rouge’s hand returned to his shoulder. He tried to shrug it off again, but she remained steadfast.

“Knuckles, you can’t blame yourself for all of that.”

Knuckles squinted up at her concerned expression at last. “It’s my fault. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it shouldn’t have been your job to begin with.” She shook her head. “You weren’t an adult, you were a teenager. All four of you should have had actual adults looking after you.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a finger to stop him. “Eggman did the kidnapping, not you. And yeah, we all should have treated her better...” She averted her gaze. “Even me...but we were all just kids and teens doing our best out there. Don’t beat yourself up over it, Knux.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Rouge cut in. “Would Amy want you to be so hard on yourself?”

Knuckles paused. He glanced into the kitchen again, only to find Shadow and Amy were out of sight. He searched for a moment, but then he heard Amy giggle from around a corner in the kitchen and say, “You little—!”

Knuckles growled immediately. He was halfway to his feet when a gentle hand pressed against his chest to stop him. He couldn’t help but comply.

“Ah, ah! Down, boy,” Rouge teased, guiding him back down to his seat. “Does she sound upset?”

Knuckles pouted, wishing he weren’t so easily swayed. Amy turned the corner with Shadow in tow. Her mischievous laughter floated back in once more. Knuckles rolled his eyes. “...No. I guess not.”

I definitely don’t like that smug look on his face, though.

“Well, I hate to tell you this, Knuckles, but you don’t have a choice.”

Knuckles glanced back up at Rouge. Despite her words, her expression was playful. “What do you mean?”

Rouge chuckled. “You can claim you’re not Amy’s brother all you want, but she’s still your sister. She’s already decided that.”

Knuckles snorted. “What are you talking about? She’s never said that.”

“She doesn’t have to, hun. It’s all there.” At his skeptical look, she continued. “Why do you think she’s worked to get so strong?”

Knuckles waved it off. “She had to. We all did.”

Rouge crossed her arms and raised a smug brow. “So it’s just a coincidence that she specifically chose boxercise for a fighting style? She goes through a punching bag a week, just like you do.”

Knuckles thought for a moment, then snorted. “Punching things is the best way to fight. Doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out.”

Rouge smirked. “I don’t know about that. My way works just fine.” She extended one of her strong legs and rested it in Knuckles’s lap. His breath caught in his throat.

“That’s not all, though,” she continued. “Haven’t you ever noticed she just so happened to pick a red dress with a white collar? Doesn’t that remind you of anyone...?” To drive her point home, Rouge dragged one finger over Knuckles’s collarbone down to trace the white crescent shape on his chest. He gulped.

With Knuckles stunned, she was free to keep talking. “And haven’t you ever wondered why she keeps her quills down like that? Doesn’t that look familiar?”

Knuckles’s head cleared for a moment, and his attention snapped to the kitchen, where the two hedgehogs were assembling a cake. Shadow was stroking his fingers through Amy’s quills, which were immaculately styled as always to point downward. Knuckles’s heart thumped unexpectedly. “Do you really think that’s why?” he asked, barely above a whisper.

“Mhm,” Rouge crooned. “And she has to use a ton of product to do it, too. Hedgehog quills don’t do this on their own.” She shifted her hand back up to thread into his quills. “She wouldn’t do that if you weren’t worth looking up to, riiiight~?”

Knuckles’s muscles started to unwind. “Y-yeah...I guess so...”

“Sooo...don’t you think it’s time you forgave yourself...and maybe someone else, too?”

It was hard to think with Rouge’s nails gently scratching his scalp. The couch creaked underneath him as he leaned back into the cushions. “...Mmmaybe...”

He could hear the smile in Rouge’s voice as she added, “Y’know, it’s gotta be pretty nice not to have to worry about her anymore.” He tipped his head back and made a quiet, inquisitive grunt. Rouge chuckled under her breath. “She’s strong as hell from emulating you, and if all else fails, she’s got a clingy, overprotective boyfriend looking out for her now. Strong enough to flip a bus. Faster than the speed of sound. Can teleport to her side whenever she’s in danger. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Hmmm...”

Amy was putting the finishing touches on the dessert. Shadow swiped a dollop of whipped cream from her cheek. When she looked up in curiosity, he licked it off of his thumb and smirked at her. She held back a shy giggle, and he clung to her once more to press a kiss to her temple.

Even so, Knuckles somehow felt less concerned than before.

When she puts it like that, it doesn’t sound too bad.

Rouge shifted closer, drawing his attention. “That’s half the reason he’s always all over her like this, you know,” she pointed out with a smirk. “No one’s dumb enough to mess with Shadow’s girlfriend. So long as he’s around, no one can touch her.”

Knuckles gazed up at her sincere smile for a moment, unable to argue. She kept running her fingers through his quills, and an unfamiliar warmth washed over him for the first time in a long while.

I’m...calm.

A few seconds later, though, a thought tugged at the back of his hazy mind, and he frowned, suspicious. “If that’s only half of the reason, what’s the other half?”

“You two look cozy,” Amy teased from the doorway.

Knuckles nearly jumped out of his skin. Realizing Rouge was practically sitting in his lap, he wrenched his head out of her hand and scrambled out from under her leg.

Rouge righted herself on the couch and pouted. “So rude.”

Knuckles shuffled over to take refuge on the other side of the couch, running his hands through his disheveled quills and fur to straighten things out. “Hmph.” His face burned while the others laughed. Desperate to change the subject, he fixed his gaze on the dessert in Amy’s hands. “So is that the surprise you mentioned?”

Amy glowed with pride as she presented the triple-layered cake, complete with strawberry drizzle, immaculate whipped cream swirls, and carefully-placed strawberries. “Yup! I think I finally nailed my new strawberry shortcake recipe!” She set the cake on her coffee table and straightened back up. “Let me know what you think!”

Shadow knelt next to the coffee table, plates and silverware in hand. He cut the cake with clean, precise strokes, and soon everyone had a slice.

Rouge chimed in first. “Mmmm! This is delicious, Amy!”

Knuckles nodded. The sweetness of the strawberries was mellowed out by the cool whipped cream. The light, spongy cake tied everything together perfectly. “You’ve outdone yourself this time. I think this might be your best yet,” he said through another mouthful.

Amy grinned and sat down on the loveseat to take her first bite. She squealed and kicked her feet in place. “Oooo, this is perfect!” She swallowed and added, “I’m so excited. Strawberry shortcake is my favorite!”

Knuckles paused in his chewing. “I thought your favorite was soft serve ice cream.”

“It was for a long time,” Amy said. “But then Shadow took me to this cute little bakery in Westopolis. They had the best strawberry shortcake!”

Shadow slid his empty plate onto the coffee table next to her. “Still not as good as yours.”

Amy gaped. “You’re already done?! I’ve barely—”

She cut herself off with a yelp when Shadow abruptly lifted her to sit sideways in his lap. He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Couldn’t help it. It was delicious.”

She laughed and settled easily into his arms. “You almost made me drop my cake!”

Knuckles stayed quiet while Amy told Rouge about the supposedly indispensable shoe store next to the Westopolis bakery. His focus shifted to Shadow, who seemed content to admire Amy’s bubbly demeanor instead. He held her far more closely than he had to.

He’s too handsy.

Shadow admired Amy’s enthusiasm with unusual intensity.

He’s too fixated on her.

Knuckles thought of Shadow’s past actions, some of which bordered on indefensible.

He’s got a checkered past and takes things too far.

But...

Then, Knuckles’s gaze fell upon Amy—her easy, radiant smile and the fully relaxed state her muscles only reached when she was in the complete security of Shadow’s arms.

Maybe...that actually works for her.

Amy and Rouge kept chatting. Knuckles looked back over to Shadow, who was now staring back at him, unreadable as always.

And it might be useful to have someone around to talk to who’s just as uninterested in shoe shopping as I am.

Knuckles mulled it over. Soon, he found himself thinking of things they might have in common. He was on the verge of formulating a question about martial arts or workout routines...until he caught sight of something on Amy’s neck that definitely hadn’t been there twenty minutes ago.

His blood boiled.

“Amy. WHAT. IS. THAT?!”

All conversation stopped at Knuckles’s outburst. Following Knuckles’s gaze, Rouge burst into a loud cackle.

Amy rolled her eyes. “Oh, grow up, Knuckles. We’re all adults here!”

Every muscle in Knuckles’s body tightened, and he turned his most heated glare on Shadow, the glare that made everyone else wilt.

Shadow’s unreadable face morphed into an unmistakable smirk, and he let out a smug snicker under his breath. Knuckles clenched his fists.

He can stay for Amy’s sake...but he’s still the worst.

--

((I will tolerate the Sonic Twitter Takeover changing Amy’s favorite dessert if they admit it happened during a Shadamy date. I think that’s fair.))

[killmongerskeeper]

Shuri Headcanons // Sfw & Nsfw // 18+

Request: Now I need headcanons for Shuri please kind ma'am. Just a crumb 👀 sfw and nsfw. -Anonymous

Pairing: Shuri x POC Reader

Warning: Fluff // Smut

SFW 

You two meeting each other was honestly an accident. She had accompanied T'Challa on a trip to the states to speak with the you and avengers. 

She jumped in your conversation to ask him a question and the two of you hit it off as soon as you laid eyes on each other.

Definitely a friends to lovers vibe

Shuri would show you around her lab whenever you two had a video chat going. 

Sending tiktoks at 4 in the morning to each other, then bickering about why the other is awake.

She's always sending you pictures of her latest inventions.

You'd tell her stories about your missions.

She thinks you were as good as Namkia when it came to infiltrating and spy stuff. 

When you two started dating you had to accommodate quickly to her habits of staying in the lab for many days straight.

You'd pull her attention out of her work with date ideas for later in the day. That's usually on a good day. 

Other days her work tends to get hectic which can lead to your princess being aggressive and highly irritable. 

With everything that's happened she does track your kimoyo bracket she gifted you. Can never be too sure. Not in an obsessive way but more of a, I care too much, kind of way. Like if she looks away for a second you're going to disappear. 

Gets jealous real easy. 

Will attach herself to your hip whenever she feels like someone is threatening your relationship. 

Loves having her hands on you. There isn't one spot she hasn't touched. 

NSFW 18 +

Now when I say she loves touching you. I mean that in both a sweetheart way and a I'm gonna fuck you like slut type of way.

She takes every opportunity she can get to bury her fingers in your pussy. 

Kissing in bed? Yeah you getting fucked. Taking a shower together? You getting fucked.

Hell she would take you on the balcony outside her room. A good fuck and a view? Sign me up.

I'm pretty sure it's been established that Shuri is a good eater from other headcanons and that fact remains. She'll never pass up the chance to have her face between your thighs. 

She would have your legs over her shoulders as she ate you like the last meal. 

Pull her hair. Just do it. Her tongue will go into overdrive. To have those curls running through my fingers.

Will overstimulate you so be aware. She has no problem holding you down till you cum a couple of times. Especially now she has black panther strength. 

She does enjoy being worshiped ever now and then. When she has a long day for example, it's your job to help your princess relax.

Into light choking.

She even cooks up some things in her lab to enhance the experience in the bedroom. All kinds of toys for her to use on you. 

Shuri definitely excels in dirty talk. Seriously, where did she learn all of this?

Favorite place to have you is on the balcony outside her room, under the stars. 

Usually falls asleep first.

Long story short Shuri is our kinky sweetheart.

[killmongerskeepermain]

Dating Shuri Headcanons

Summary/Request: Now I need headcanons for Shuri please kind ma'am. Just a crumb 👀 sfw and nsfw. -Anonymous

SFW 

You two meeting each other was honestly an accident. She had accompanied T'Challa on a trip to the states to speak with the you and avengers. 

She jumped in your conversation to ask him a question and the two of you hit it off as soon as you laid eyes on each other.

Definitely a friends to lovers vibe

Shuri would show you around her lab whenever you two had a video chat going. 

Sending tiktoks at 4 in the morning to each other, then bickering about why the other is awake.

She’s always sending you pictures of her latest inventions.

You’d tell her stories about your missions.

She thinks you were as good as Namkia when it came to infiltrating and spy stuff. 

When you two started dating you had to accommodate quickly to her habits of staying in the lab for many days straight.

You’d pull her attention out of her work with date ideas for later in the day. That’s usually on a good day. 

Other days her work tends to get hectic which can lead to your princess being aggressive and highly irritable. 

With everything that’s happened she does track your kimoyo bracket she gifted you. Can never be too sure. Not in an obsessive way but more of a, I care too much, kind of way. Like if she looks away for a second you’re going to disappear. 

Gets jealous real easy. 

Will attach herself to your hip whenever she feels like someone is threatening your relationship. 

Loves having her hands on you. There isn’t one spot she hasn’t touched. 

NSFW 18 +

Now when I say she loves touching you. I mean that in both a sweetheart way and a I’m gonna fuck you like slut type of way.

She takes every opportunity she can get to bury her fingers in your pussy. 

Kissing in bed? Yeah you getting fucked. Taking a shower together? You getting fucked.

Hell she would take you on the balcony outside her room. A good fuck and a view? Sign me up.

I’m pretty sure it’s been established that Shuri is a good eater from other headcanons and that fact remains. She’ll never pass up the chance to have her face between your thighs. 

She would have your legs over her shoulders as she ate you like the last meal. 

Pull her hair. Just do it. Her tongue will go into overdrive. To have those curls running through my fingers.

Will overstimulate you so be aware. She has no problem holding you down till you cum a couple of times. Especially now she has black panther strength. 

She does enjoy being worshiped ever now and then. When she has a long day for example, it’s your job to help your princess relax.

Into light choking.

She even cooks up some things in her lab to enhance the experience in the bedroom. All kinds of toys for her to use on you. 

Shuri definitely excels in dirty talk. Seriously, where did she learn all of this?

Favorite place to have you is on the balcony outside her room, under the stars. 

Usually falls asleep first.

Long story short Shuri is our kinky sweetheart.

[the-way-of-words]

PolyVerse Cam Boy AU//Jolly

Joakim "Jolly" Karlsson x Holly(ofc) with mentions of Noah Sebastian x Holly(ofc), Nicholas Ruffilo x Holly(ofc), and Nicholas Ruffilo x Holly(ofc) x Noah Sebastian

Content warnings: partner sharing, exhibitionism, oral (male and female receiving), mentions of fisting, P in V sex, squirting, light choking, mentions of sex work

Contains sexual situations with fictionalized versions of real people. None of this is real, and we should all know this by now, but if it's still not your thing, hit the back button.

For the lovely @throwingmetothelions who has let me play in her Cam Boy HC sandbox not once, but twice now, since Jolly decided he wanted to have a turn. And thank you to @signs-of-ill-portent for being the best fucking cheerleader and beta ever to grace my life.

<This is a sex worker positive blog and if you have a problem with that then this is not the fic for you. Thnx.>

tag team: @cncohshit, @jxstthisonce, @kingdomof-omens, @ladyveronikawrites, @deathblacksmoke

if you would like to be added to a taglist, feel free to comment or send me an ask <3

~~~~~

Jolly doesn't exactly know what the whole situation is with Nick, Noah, and Holly. At the very least, he knows she's fucking both of them. Or maybe they're both fucking her. Although, judging by what he heard last night, he's pretty sure they're all fucking each other. 

Not that it matters all that much, but it's important he has some kinda story straight in his head when he enters the kitchen almost every morning to the sight of her dressed in someone else's shirt and little to nothing else. 

He feels like he's going insane, but who can blame him when he's had to go to sleep almost every night this week, hearing how pretty she sounds when one of them takes her apart? He tries not to listen – he does – but at this point, it almost seems like they're doing it on purpose. 

Add to that the fact that he watched every second of that stream they did a couple of months ago, and he's been a very distracted man indeed. It doesn't matter that they cut it off before any actual fucking took place, because he now knows exactly what she looks like writhing with a head between her legs, and it's beautiful. Jolly's dreamt about it; getting on his knees in front of her, throwing a leg over his shoulder while he eats her out, exactly how Nick said she likes it, only to wake either hard as a rock or sticky in a mess of his own making.

It's fine, he tells himself. He just has to stick it out for a few more days until Nick and Holly return to Virginia. He tells himself that he can handle it. It’s just a few more days, a few more sleepless nights, but it doesn't help. Jolly spends all of his next stream barely speaking, as the fantasy of Holly walking in on him takes hold and cums so hard, he's pretty sure he hears his jaw crack.

~~

"So, this is where the magic happens, huh?" 

He jumps at the sound of her voice, mouth going dry when he turns away from his computer to eye Holly leaning in the doorway because she's dressed in a shirt she must have taken from Noah’s laundry because it's actually his; he swallows, trying to will away the hardness forming in his sweatpants. The garment swims on her frame, and he hopes to God she’s got something on under it. 

"You know," she says conversationally as she kicks away from the door, "I thought about walking in on you while you were doing your stream thing yesterday." His eyes track her as she crosses into the room, cataloging the curves he can’t see, but knows are there. She perches herself on the desk in front of him, staring down at him with interest. "That's your thing, right? You like to be walked in on…watched?" 

He thinks it’d almost be funny if her words weren’t actively trying to break his brain. 

His fingers drum against his thigh, and he sighs. This is a bad idea, a voice in his head murmurs, and yet he answers anyway. “Uh…yeah.” He snorts. “Yeah, it is.” 

Holly nods, humming quietly to herself as her crossed ankles swing softly in the small space that separates them. His mind wanders back to what she said earlier, and he’s curious. 

This is a bad idea, the voice says again, but the question tumbles out of his mouth before he can think to stop it. “And what would you have done?”

“Hm?” Her eyebrow quirks, as if she’s confused, but he knows better. Jolly can see the little spark of mischief in her eyes. The one that reminds him so very much of Noah, and he understands now what Nick meant when he said those two were like two peas in a pod.

“What would you have done? If you had walked in?” He shouldn’t encourage this. Not when Nick and Noah are just on the other side of the wall. But he is so desperate to take back control of the situation, and, maybe if he goes far enough, he’ll be able to. Maybe if he tries hard enough, he’ll scare her off and she’ll go running back to them and stop rattling his cage like this. Jolly tilts his head as he stares at her for a beat longer, fingers pyramided in front of his chest.

She doesn’t move when he suddenly rolls his chair closer, smirking as he settles his hands on her knees. 

“Would you have opened up these pretty legs for me?” He moves his hands up her thighs until his fingers can slide under the hem of her shorts. “Would you have let me bury my face in this sweet pussy of yours until one of them came looking for you?” 

Glee rolls up his spine when Holly’s breath hitches as his fingers crawl higher under her shorts, and he pauses, hands halting until their eyes meet. He raises an eyebrow, wondering if this is all it will take, if now is when she’ll say stop and leave. But she doesn’t. Instead, she meets his gaze head-on, as if daring him to keep going. So he does, his calloused fingers searching until they reach the edge of her underwear. She leans back, spreading her legs wide as he slips beneath the elastic, shock replacing the satisfaction when he finds her folds slick.  

“Is that what you would have wanted, Jolly?” she asks, voice low, almost a breathless purr. “Is that what you thought about when you got yourself off last?”

He was, but it’s not as if he’d tell her that. Not when he’s slowly losing this dubious game of sexual chicken they’ve found themselves in. Jolly clears his throat, trying to focus on his goal instead of how warm she feels underneath his hands, how soft, how she smells like soap and hot water and some kind of strawberry lotion that makes his mouth water. But then she shifts her hips, causing his thumb to brush against her clit, and before Jolly can make sense of what he’s doing, he dips it down and into her wet slit. 

“Something tells me I’m not the only one that’s thought about it,” he counters. “Tell me, Holly, how many times have you thought about me when one of them has been between your thighs, huh?” 

He feels very, very warm all of a sudden, the heat pooling in his gut spreading out to the rest of him, and while he knows he should stop, should take his hands off her and tell her to get out, he can’t. He’s too mesmerized by the feel of her inner walls clutching at his thumb as he slides it in and out of her. 

It’s her whimper, a breathless call of his name, that snaps him out of the haze, that finally pulls his hands off of her as he stands abruptly, and maybe if he had any ability to actually think this through, this would be the end of it. But he’s too far gone now. Can’t do anything but take hold of her face with both his hands and plant his mouth on hers. 

The kiss is messy and desperate, wet, open mouths and tongues and he can’t figure out which one of them has wanted this more. Is it her, with her hands fisted in his t-shirt, trying to tug him closer? Or is it him, with the way he pulls away from her lips to lap up the taste of her from the sticky trail his thumb left on her cheek? He lets go of her face to suck his thumb into his mouth, and as her sweet musk settles on his tongue, he knows he has to have her.

There are no thoughts of the consequences they may encounter as he shoves his hands into the waistband of Holly’s shorts. He follows them down, planting his knees on the carpet, eyes zeroing in on the small patch of fabric a little darker than the rest. 

“Can I?” It’s an out as much as a request, their last chance to stop this before they go too far, and he hopes she takes it. Because he knows once he fully lets himself give in, there will be no going back. But she tangles a hand through his hair instead, nodding to him while she utters a quiet yes. It's all he needs to throw one of her legs over his shoulder and pull her underwear to the side as he licks into her. 

She invades his senses, the smell and taste of her all he knows, all he wants, and he wastes no time putting his stolen knowledge to use; rolling his tongue across her clit lightly before he tucks two fingers back into her. 

“Oh fuck,” he hears her rasp, fingers tightening in his hair. “Someone’s… someone’s been sneaky--” 

Her teasing reproach cuts off with a quiet moan when he crooks his fingers, another following quickly after as a third joins them. He pulls away for a moment, his cock twitching at the sight, and Jolly wonders exactly how many of his fingers she’d let him fit inside her… if she would let him work up to getting his whole fist inside, just to see how she would look stretched around his wrist. 

He doesn’t realize he’s voiced his fantasy until he hears a sharp intake of breath. “You’re kinda a kinky fucker, aren’t you?” 

His eyes slide up to glance at her face, and fuck, isn’t she a pretty sight? Her face flushed, mouth fallen open in pleasure as she watches him fuck her with his fingers.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t let me?” he asks, twisting his head to take a nip of her thigh, “Wouldn’t let me call your boys in here and let them watch me open you up--”

For a split second, he thinks he hears a creak of the floor just outside his bedroom. But then she uses her grip on his hair to guide him back to her cunt and Jolly forgets all about it as he sneaks his tongue down to lick around his fingers, taking pride in the choked gasp of his name right before he sucks her clit into his mouth.

Holly lights up under his touch, pulling him even closer with shaking thighs as she cums. Her release gathers around his knuckles, and he drinks it up; licking and sucking until she’s pulling him away, tugging at him until he rises from his knees…only to plant her hands on his chest and send him stumbling back onto the bed. 

“Take your pants off.” 

He doesn’t need to be told twice, shuffling his sweatpants down his legs and tossing them to the floor while she pulls a condom from god knows where. 

The full weight of the situation, the actual wrongness of what they're doing, doesn't hit him until she kneels between his legs. It only adds fuel to the fire, sparking the heat inside his veins in a way that makes him ache. The floor creaks again; he’s sure of it this time, yet when he turns his head, there’s no one there. But that doesn’t stop his thoughts from running as she takes him into her mouth. 

The wet heat makes his eyes roll back, her tongue pulling bitten-off curses from his mouth as she swirls it around his cock head, and he wonders briefly who it is, standing with their ear to the door, hand on the doorknob, ready to walk in…he groans, squeezing his eyes closed. Or maybe it’s both Nick and Noah, taking turns to creep into the doorway and watch their girl with someone else, and he’s struck with the idea that maybe this has been the plan all along. 

But then Holly’s pulling off and rolling the condom down his length, straddling his lap, causing all coherent thought to cease as he slips inside her. She takes him in slowly, lips parting in a quiet sigh as she lowers herself at a snail’s pace, thighs flexing beneath his hands when she rises, only to sink lower with every pass until she’s fully seated. 

Holly pauses, her eyes fluttering closed as she rocks back and forth minutely. It makes his hips kick up on their own accord because even through the latex he can feel how wet she is, the tight clutch of her cunt pulling him under her spell even further. It’s almost as if he’s adrift, and the weight of her on top of him, the feel of her softness against him is the only thing keeping this from being a dream. 

She gasps, a noise caught somewhere between a laugh and a moan, as she steadies herself on his chest, “Easy, tiger. I need a minute.” 

“I'll try to behave,” Jolly snickers, deciding to let his hands roam as she continues to grind against him.

He grips her thighs, enjoying the way her flesh gives under his fingers when he thumbs at the flowers inked into her skin just below the crease of her hips. His hands trail under her borrowed shirt to caress the skin of her waist and she shivers, goosebumps forming in their wake as his hands slide up her torso to her ribcage, going further still until his thumbs reach the curve of her breasts. The full flesh fills his palms perfectly, and what he wouldn’t give to have her fully naked, to see all of her as she undulates on top of him. But he still doesn’t quite know where the line is, so he settles for teasing the sensitive buds of her nipples, pinching and rolling them until they stiffen. 

He hears the telltale noise of movement outside the door once more just as she begins to rock her hips back and forth, working up to a slow, steady rhythm that has arousal pooling at the base of his spine already; he cuts his gaze to the doorway, where he’s met with Nicholas’s heated stare. But before the panic can fully take root, the other man smirks, nodding in their direction as if telling him to keep going…and that’s when all the pieces start to fall into place.  

There's a reason they haven’t come looking for her. This has been a game all along, and that gives him an idea. 

“Do you think any of your boys are watching, sweet girl? Hmm?” Jolly asks. His hands slip from her chest to her waist, clutching her tightly as her hips twist devilishly.

She smirks, lowering down to her elbows, her breath hot against his ear when she whispers “What makes you think they haven’t been watching since the beginning?” 

He should probably be upset at the idea of being played like this. But instead, all it does is make him want this more, and if they want a show… who’s Jolly to deny them? He holds her steady, thrusting up into her roughly one last time before lifting her off him. 

Confusion colors her face. “Jol--”

“Turn around,” he interrupts and she follows his direction immediately, settling on her hands and knees as she faces the door. 

He’s quick to fit himself against her, eager to find his way back inside her tight heat. One of his hands slips under his t-shirt, caressing the ridges of her spine on its way to rest between her shoulder blades. It only takes the littlest amount of pressure for Holly to get the hint, and she lowers her chest to the bed, arms stretched out in front of her. 

He groans when he pushes inside, the tight clutch of her cunt trying to pull him deeper as she parts for him. He wants to take it slow, savor it, but when he spies Nick outside the door again his hips snap forward sharply, and he buries himself as deep as he can go. It’s almost as if he’s on autopilot, his body chasing the pleasure he knows hers will provide. His hips pull back before rolling forward, setting a satisfying rhythm as he drapes himself over her back.

She was right earlier. He is a kinky fucker, and a kinda nasty one at that, which means he is not above slithering a hand underneath her to cup her throat, using that hold to pull her face up from where it’s buried in his duvet to meet her boyfriend’s gaze. 

He can tell the exact moment the two lock eyes: a sharp gasp falls from her mouth as she throws herself back to meet his thrusts as best as she can. The wet, slick sound of her pussy hurtles him closer to the edge, and fuck, he wishes he could see her face as the pair stare at each other, but watching Nick watch her is a good consolation prize and he takes it willingly. 

He can see the sheer want in his friend's face, his jaw slack as he stares unabashedly, taking in every bit of what's happening in front of him, his inked hands press against his groin, tongue poking out to wet his lips before he swallows. Nick's hands fall to his sides, clenching into fists, and Jolly's curious.

“What about after this, huh?” he pants into the shell of her ear, tightening his grip on her neck until he can feel the flutter of her pulse, “Are you going to crawl back into bed with your boyfriends and let one of them inside you?” 

“Fuck,” Holly curses when he relaxes his hold, “o--only if you don’t make me cum again.” 

Jolly smirks when her inner walls start to quiver around him, even if it makes it harder for him to hold on, and he waits until Nick’s attention is on him before he replies.

“Well, I’d hate,” he gasps, “to send you back to them unsatisfied… shit, Holly--c’mon, touch yourself for me.”

He buries his face in her hair, unable to look at Nicholas any longer once she starts to play with herself, but he can still feel the burning weight of his friend's gaze as he chases his own end. It prickles at his insides, driving him closer and closer until Holly seizes up. Delight joins the ecstasy coursing through him when her release bursts forth, wetting the both of them before it drips onto the bed beneath. 

Light explodes behind his eyes as he digs his teeth into her shoulder, smothering his groan into the freckled skin as he lets go. His hips stutter and jerk as he gives her all he has, rutting into her until he’s spent. He feels fuzzy, a pleasant hum spreading through his bones when he lets himself slump onto the bed. Holly follows, coming to rest on her side, throwing a leg over his and he’s just about to tug her close and pull her into a kiss when Nick appears at the side of his bed. 

Jolly rolls to his back and focuses his eyes on the ceiling as if to give them some sort of privacy, trying to not give in to the awkward feeling settling in his stomach now that it's over. 

“I didn't know you could do that.” To his surprise, there’s not a trace of jealousy in Nick’s voice when he breaks the silence, it almost sounds like awe, if Jolly were to put a name to it. 

“I, uh, did not know that either.” Holly laughs and pride swells in Jolly’s chest.

“Well, Noah's going to be sad he missed it…He had to take a call from Matt just as you were getting started. Something tour-related, I guess, couldn't wait,” Nick says, preoccupied. Jolly sneaks a glance out of the corner of his eye, watching the man’s hand travel up Holly’s thigh to her center. Her legs part without him having to ask, yet she still makes a surprised noise when his fingers delve into her center, “He got you all messy, didn’t he?” 

It makes him feel a certain kind of way, being talked about like he’s not there. “I’m right here, you know.” 

Nick snorts. “You gonna participate in the conversation then, or just stare at the ceiling pretending to not be here?” 

Holly’s hand is warm when it settles on his cheek, pulling his attention from the light fixtures to the two of them instead. They both smile and Jolly finds himself smiling back. 

“So… this isn’t going to be weird then? We’re okay?” he asks.

Holly and Nick trade a glance before the man huffs another laugh. “Wouldn’t have done this if we thought it was going to be weird…” Nick studies his face, “But are you okay with it?”

“Fuck, are you kidding me?” he laughs, “I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard before.” He means it, and if things aren’t weird for them, then he can’t say that things are weird for him either… especially if it means this is going to happen again.

~~

The next time he streams and Holly’s in town, he makes sure everyone can see how Noah watches before he walks in on them and Jolly doesn’t think he’s ever made that much money for a single session.

 And even though he doesn’t quite understand exactly what the four of them are doing, he’s gonna enjoy it while it lasts.

[chelseachilly]

when i'm feeling alone, you remind me of home

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: you're stranded at uni by yourself for christmas with no flights going to london, but your boyfriend has other ideas warnings: nothing but fluff ❄️🫶🏼 word count: 2.5k

author’s note: here's another holiday one-shot! hoping to write at least one more before christmas. also btw there is no regard for the actual chelsea december fixtures or club rules in this story lol. title from christmas tree farm by taylor 🎄

-

You’ve always loved snow.

You loved playing in it as a little kid, making snowmen with your parents and going sledding with friends. You loved watching it from your window your first year of uni, seeing the blanket of white make Edinburgh look even more magical. You love bundling up to go ice skating and drinking hot chocolate as the snow falls around you.

But right now, you absolutely hate it. 

A massive snowstorm rolling through the UK has caused the cancellation all flights, including the one you were supposed to take from Edinburgh to London tonight. It’s your last year of university there, but you’ve never missed a Christmas at home with your family and your boyfriend.

Now, it’s two days until Christmas and you’re stranded alone in your little flat with absolutely no way of making it home.

“What? You can’t get a train?” Ben asks after you’ve explained your predicament to him sadly. 

As much as you feel bad about missing the holiday with your parents, you feel really bad about not being able to see Ben. With your busy schedules, you’ve hardly seen him in months, and you even missed his birthday a couple days ago because you had an exam. Now, you were supposed to finally have an entire week with him in London. 

You were going to go to Winter Wonderland and complain about tourists and end up going back to his to snuggle by the fireplace. You were going to have Christmas morning with your family and dinner with his, spending the whole day exchanging gifts and fond memories. You were going to watch his game on the 27th and bundle up in your warmest Chelsea gear to cheer your heart out for your man, which you’ve really missed doing lately. 

You miss everything about him, really. 

But instead, you’re going to be eating Indian takeaway leftovers and watching Love Actually to try to make yourself feel better.

“The trains are all full, I checked,” you sigh. 

“Well, let me see if I can charter a plane-“

“Ben,” you cut him off before he gets ahead of myself. Although it’s quite extravagant for him to spend tens of thousands of dollars getting you there, you know he would do it in a heartbeat. “All flights are grounded, not just mine. It’s not possible.”

“But…there must be something.”

You can picture his disappointed face right now, and it brings tears to your eyes just thinking about it. 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” you reply, sinking into your couch. “You know I would do anything to be there with you right now.”

“Don’t apologize to me, love, I can’t believe you’re going to spend Christmas alone,” Ben sighs. “This is so shit. I just wanna see you and hold you.”

“I know,” you exhale. “I miss you so much. The only thing that got me through exams was thinking about being home with you and playing with Oscar in the snow and baking cookies…”

You can feel yourself getting choked up, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks as you think about all you’ll be missing out on. You feel a bit silly, knowing there are people with far bigger problems in the world, but you’ve been working yourself to death for the past month to ace your finals and this trip home was the shining light at the end of the tunnel. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Ben says sadly. “I miss you so much too. I wish there was something we could do.”

“Like control the weather?” you joke, trying to lighten the mood despite the tears running down your face.

“You know I would do it if I could,” he replies seriously. “I’m sorry this is happening, babe. Maybe the weather will clear up in a day or two and you’ll still be able to make it out for a few days, yeah?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” you breathe - some time with Ben and your family is better than nothing, but you’re still going to be alone for Christmas morning. “I should let you go, I don’t want to stop you from having a nice holiday too. Say hi to your mum and Alex for me when they get there, alright?”

“I will, baby,” Ben says. “I’ll text you later and call you in the morning, alright?”

“Alright,” you sniffle, wiping your tears away. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Bye, love.”

The moment Ben hangs up, you toss your cell onto the cushion beside you and bury your face in the pillow, groaning in frustration. 

After feeling sorry for yourself for a bit, you reluctantly get up and go to turn up the heat and change into something warmer, as the temperatures outside continue to drop. You grab Ben’s hoodie from your closet, a cozy grey one you stole last time you were in London. It barely smells like him anymore, since that was over a month ago and you’ve worn and washed it several times, but it’s still a small comfort to wear something of his.

You heat up your dinner and put on the film, although the romantic scenes and the shots of London only seem to make you more homesick. 

You text Ben during his favourite part, which is naturally Hugh Grant dancing around 10 Downing Street. 

The annual Love Actually rewatch isn’t the same without you babe. Hope you’re having fun with the fam ❤️

He takes a while to respond, which you hope means he’s having a better time than you are and enjoying being with his family. 

You’re just drifting off to sleep when his text finally comes in.

It’s not the same here without you either. Goodnight baby, talk in the morning 😘

-

You wake up to the sound of your phone ringing.

You briefly think it’s your alarm, but you don’t remember setting one, certainly not for 7AM, which is the current time according to your watch.

You blearily stretch your arms, a bit of a crick in your neck from falling asleep on the couch, and reach around haphazardly for your phone.

You see Ben’s name and contact photo on the screen and you quickly answer, worried something is wrong if he’s calling you at this time. 

“Ben? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he assures you. “Can you go downstairs? There’s a delivery for you.”

“What?” you yawn, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “What on earth have you sent me at seven in the morning?”

“Just go check, I think you’ll like it,” Ben promises, and you can hear the smile tugging at his lips. “Quickly, babe. This is time sensitive.”

You roll your eyes fondly as you throw the blanket off yourself and slide on your slippers, leaving the warmth of your flat to go down the stairs and see what’s waiting for you outside the main doors. You can only imagine what ridiculous present your boyfriend had shipped to you overnight to try to make up for your failed Christmas. 

You tighten Ben’s hoodie around your body to brace yourself for the cold before opening the door, your eyes on the ground where you’re expecting the package to be.

Instead, you see a familiar pair of Nikes - and your eyes trail up to see the very familiar man wearing them. 

You’re not sure if you’re dreaming, so you blink a few times, only to be greeted with the same sight - your perfect, adorable boyfriend standing in front of you in his puffer jacket and hat, his cheeks red from the cold and his smile absolutely blinding. 

“Ben?” you gasp. “Why are you - how are you here?”

“I couldn’t let you spend Christmas alone.”

You meet him halfway as he drops his bags to the ground and opens his arms for you to throw yourself at him. You hug him as tight as you can, burying your nose in his neck and inhaling his scent. You can’t believe this is really happening.

“How the hell did you get here?” you ask as he squeezes your waist tightly and kisses the top of your head. 

“I drove,” Ben murmurs. 

You pull back to look at him, your eyes wide with disbelief.

“You drove? It’s, like, eight hours-“

“Twelve in a snowstorm, apparently,” Ben chuckles. “But definitely worth it for this.”

“You drove all night through a snowstorm for me?”

You can feel tears beginning to brim in your eyes once again, though these are tears of joy. You can’t believe how insanely lucky you are to have a man who loves you this much. 

“Of course I did, I would do anything for you,” Ben says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, brushing his nose against yours. “Now, if you don’t mind, it’s been a long night and I would really love a kiss.”

Without hesitation, you grab his face and kiss him passionately, sighing with joy at the feeling of being reunited with your boyfriend. You’re certain that this is the most romantic and wonderful thing anyone has ever done for you, and although you never expected the best kiss of your life to happen on your doorstep at 7am in a blizzard, this just might take the top spot.

“I love you so damn much,” you whisper against his lips when you finally pull away. “But I am also slightly mad at you for driving at night in poor conditions.”

Ben laughs and rolls his eyes a bit. “I promise I was safe, but can we go inside where it’s warmer before we argue about it?”

“Hmm, okay,” you grin, pecking his lips a few more times before helping him lug his bags up the stairs to your flat.

Once you’re inside and Ben’s taken off his shoes and coat, you waste no time in wrapping your arms around him and kissing him again. 

“You’re freezing, sweetheart,” you murmur as his cold hands slide under your - his - hoodie to feel your skin. “Want a tea? Or do you want to go straight to bed? You must be exhausted.”

“A tea and a cuddle would be perfect,” Ben smiles, pecking your forehead.

You tell him to go get comfy on the couch while you make tea for both of you, and when you return, he’s waiting for you with open arms and a sleepy grin on his face. 

You place both mugs on the coffee table and curl up next to him, your face in the crook of his neck and your arms and legs tangled. 

You let out a content sigh as your bodies recalibrate after so much time apart. You knew you needed this, but you didn’t know quite how much until right now. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” you murmur, kissing his jaw. “What about your mum and Alex, though?”

“I told them how sad you sounded on the phone and they encouraged me to go, though my mum was slightly nervous about me making the drive-“

“As she should be,” you scold gently.

“I told you, I was very careful, and there were hardly any cars on the roads,” Ben promises once again. “Anyways, they were all for it. They knew I would’ve been miserable without you there.”

You hug him a bit tighter, hooking your leg around his. “Wait, you have a game in three days. Did the club really sign off on this?”

“I managed to persuade Poch to give me today off to go see my girl, I think he’s a bit of a softie at heart,” Ben jokes. “And we have tomorrow and the day after off for Christmas anyways. We’ll just have to drive back on the 26th, the roads are supposed to clear by then. I know it’s not the same as Christmas in London with both our families, but this is better than being apart, right?”

“Ben,” you say sincerely, cupping his cheek with one hand. “This is the most amazing thing anyone has ever done for me. A cozy Christmas with just the two of us sounds absolutely perfect. Thank you, baby.”

Your lips meet in another sweet kiss, one that quickly escalates as you feel your boyfriend’s hands on your hips and thighs for the first time in a month. You moan into his mouth as he tugs you into his lap. 

“I missed you so much,” you breathe between kisses, tugging his hat off to run your hands through his messy hair. 

“I can tell, hoodie thief,” Ben teases, fiddling with the soft material. “You look unreal in that, by the way. And I missed you more.”

You smile into another kiss, getting completely lost in him and his scent and his touch. Even after years together, you’re completely addicted to him. 

You’re ready to take it further and move to your bedroom, but you’re interrupted by a yawn from Ben. He tries to kiss you again afterward, but you laugh softly and hold his face. 

“You need sleep, Benjamin.”

He pouts slightly in protest, but you kiss him again quickly and it goes away.

“Babe, you’re exhausted,” you murmur softly. “We can go cuddle in my bed and continue this later.”

Ben sighs and nods as you climb off him and extend your hand to help him up. He doesn’t let go of your hand, though, instead pulling you into another warm hug. He’s so sleepy and adorable that you could nearly cry as he nuzzles his face into your hair. 

He’s always been a very tactile person, and you know that for every time you tell him how much you missed and love him, he will hold you a little bit longer or kiss your forehead to say the exact same thing.

When you finally pull apart, you take him by the hand and lead him into your bedroom. He strips down to his boxers, which is how he prefers to sleep even in the dead of winter. He says you run hot enough to keep him warm, though you’re not sure if that’s true or he just likes to maximize your skin-on-skin contact.

He’s much warmer now than when you found him on your doorstep, so it’s not a shock to your system when you climb into bed with him and he immediately pulls you into his chest.

“I promise once you’ve had a proper rest I’ll make the drive worth your while, baby,” you say with a slight smirk as you wrap your arm around him and nuzzle your face into his neck. 

Ben just tightens his grip on you and closes his eyes, a content smile on his face. 

“It was worth it the second you opened the door.”

As you watch your boyfriend drift off to sleep, feeling so full of love for him that you might burst, you make a mental note to make it extra worth it for him later just for that adorable comment. 

After you’ve both slept a few hours and spent another few making up for lost time, you spend the rest of Christmas Eve watching films and baking cookies. 

The next morning, you both wake up early and exchange presents in your festive pyjamas. It’s not the same as if you were in London with both your families, but it’s still perfect because you’re together. 

And a year later, when you’ve graduated and you’re celebrating your first Christmas in your new home with a diamond ring on your finger, it’s even better. 

i hope you enjoyed this story! and thank you for all your lovely comments on my last fic. if anyone wants to be added to a taglist for my ben fics in the future, please let me know! ❤️💚

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and Worst of Both Worlds (part 33)

Tw: mentions of rape and molestation, Evangeline's insanity

Part 34

You sighed. Looking up at the white ceiling as the smell of antiseptic stings your nose.

Your landlord came by earlier to hand you your phone charger as per Yves's request. He avoided your eyes as he asked about your general wellbeing. Perhaps he felt guilty for letting one of his tenants go through such brutality. Or maybe Yves tore him another one for failing to protect you. Quite frankly, you do not know, neither do you care.

You gave him polite but short answers. You don't feel like talking to anyone now, not even Yves. It feels like the whole world is judging you and criticizing what you could have done.

He was nice, he even charged your phone for you. It's not like you could do it yourself, hooked on all kinds of antibiotic drips and wires. Not to mention, your leg cast.

You were wondering about Evangeline's hygiene, how did you get this infected from a couple of bites and scratches? Well. Whatever it was, you're glad shes just not here.

You did blame yourself for confronting her. Because if she didn't know that there was an issue between you and her, she wouldn't have paid you a visit.

But it was hard to say what her reaction would have been when Mr. Jones confronted her about the molestation in his car.

It felt like a courtroom with no jury in your head. You have a part of yourself prosecuting your being, while the other defending it. It's noisy and exhausting. You had no idea how to quieten it down.

You turned your head to the sound of your phone.

You reached towards it and checked what has set off the notification alerts. The cable is still attached to its charging port.

You received a voicemail from a number you didn't recognize.

"Sweetheart. It's me, Montgomery. I-I'm so sorry you had to go through that. I.." You heard him choke back tears. "That was fucking disgusting of her. It was so much worse than I first thought- I'm so fucking sorry I couldn't be there to protect ya', I shouldn't have trusted- I-I-"

You were confused at the sudden breakdown. He wasn't that distressed the last time you saw him, why is he crying as if he went through it instead?

You listen to him sob in anguish.

"...I couldn't get a hold of ya' through my old number. I had to get another one. Please call me back as soon as ya' can."

The message abruptly ended there.

You blocked this number too.

Frowning, did Yves tell him your business? That seems unlikely of him, you refused to believe that he would do such a thing. Then, who else did he...

The group chat with your housemates is blowing up.

Oh. The news got ahold of your story. Well that makes sense.

Even though you weren't identified, it was clear the news segment was about your horrific assault.

Some of your housemates were complaining that Yves told them not to speak with the media. And thankfully, they didn't.

There was very limited information given to the public as it seems like Yves is trying to control what others can know. The majority of the details were given by Evangeline herself. To your relief, she was held without bail.

From what you understood, she wasted her one call in jail to speak with news outlets. She didn't call her father, her mother or a lawyer. Evangeline admitted that she raped you in such a brutal matter, not leaving a single detail unsaid.

The article anonymized all the names she dropped, but you can guess she mentioned Montgomery and Yves at some point.

It was sickening, Evangeline told them that she's masturbating in jail to the thought of you. When asked what was her reasoning behind her atrocious acts, she replied that you were her greatest reward in life. She 'deserved' you for being your 'savior'. It was unclear what she meant.

They asked if she had any remorse for what she did. Evangeline went ahead and told them her only goal is to get out of prison just to fuck you day and night. You consumed her entire thought and you have to pay for it.

Evangeline claimed that she 'loves' you. You just didn't know what was good for you and it is her mission to fix that. She also hated you for throwing her away just like everyone else. Then again, she loved how you felt against her, so you were 'forgiven'.

You didn't get it. What was wrong with her? She seems so normal and fine, yet she's still trying to induce nightmares in you even when she's held in a cell.

You read on and saw that her parents refused to comment. However, it's mentioned that Evangeline was suspected to be too mentally unsound to stand trial. They have yet to evaluate her psychology, but judging on her unhinged reaction after all this, you think she is very likely to plead insanity and be sent to a mental facility instead of prison.

The University retracted her scholarship and expelled her. She must have thought that there was nothing left to lose, that is why she went all out in the impromptu interview.

You shuddered and stopped reading, not being able to stomach the mention of Evangeline anymore.

You wiped away tears from the hilt of your palm. Suddenly yearning for some company.

What a coincidence, Yves called you. Immediately, you picked it up.

"(name)..." His voice was soft and sympathetic.

You cried. You let everything out to Yves. It was hard to form a sentence, but you tried. It came out as incoherent garbles as you choked on your own tears. Nothing you said made sense to you, it did to Yves.

He listened. Letting his own droplets roll down his cheeks too. Yves knew there isn't anything he could say now to make you feel better. You heard it all before. The apologies, the assurances, the hatred towards your perpetrator... it became meaningless to you.

It's time for you to speak instead.

He knows you just wanted someone to be there for you.

And he will stay on the line as long as you need.

Yves's tears splashed onto his papers, creating ugly stains and smudging his blue ink around. Rendering some words as unreadable.

[hrryshoney]

Ignore me if I’m too insane pls but all the training talk has me sick in the head

gyno!matty sticking his fingers in her mouth to choke her every time she cums to train her into cumming just from sucking him off 🚶

anon when i read this i had to scream out loud. ur never too insane! this idea so goes hand in hand w my other training wip (gyno matty using a clicker every time girlie cums so she can cum on command lol) so let’s talk abt it

You don’t know what got into Matty, but you were thanking God for whatever it was. For the last couple weeks, every time you had sex, Matty would talk about training you. How you were his sweet bunny that he wanted to control. And you didn’t mind any of it. Especially right now.

Matty was fucking you within an inch of your life, pounding into your cunt relentlessly. You had already cum once, and you could feel pleasure washing over you in waves again. Basically on the brink of overstimulation. His thumb found your clit, and he began to rub tight circles. Your head fell back as you opened your mouth in a silent moan.

The sound of skin against skin filled the room, along with the lewd wet noises of him filling you. Both of your moans creating a melody together. “My good fucking girl. Just lay there and take it.” Matty’s hands hooked under your thighs, practically folding you as he pushed them against your chest. The new angle made him feel even deeper, and you swore you could cum right there. You clenched around his cock, a burn in your legs from the new stretch.

He continued to thrust into you, dick twitching inside of you. He pinched your clit, other hand moving to stimulate your nipples as he leaned his body weight down to keep you in position. “Doctor- I’m gonna cum, please let me.” You waited for his permission, whole body tensing. Matty refused to let up, now picking up his pace.

“Go ahead, bunny.” He nodded, laser focused on making you feel good. He could tell you were coming just from the look on your face, an expression he’d come to memorize because of how much he loved it. He tapped your cheek, and your mouth fell open. As you fell over the edge, Matty shoved two of his big fingers in your mouth. His hand silenced your incessant moans. It might have made you gag before you knew him, but you were accustomed to the feeling of him touching the back of your throat now. It wasn’t the first time he did this in the past few nights. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head.

You closed your mouth around his fingers when you were snapped out of your daze, swirling your tongue around the digits. Holding eye contact, fluttering your lashes as your warm mouth enveloped him. Matty’s hips stuttered as he groaned, and you felt his cum fill you. His hands came to the crease of your thighs as he pulled out, you winced. He kept your legs in their position against your chest, pushing you back a bit as if to keep his cum inside of you.

You interrupted his staring with a question. “Why do you keep doing that?” You said, an inquisitive tone taking over your voice. You didn’t sound mad by any means, just curious.

“Doing what?” Matty’s lips went into a frown, but he was still focused on your core. He trailed his thumb to graze over your clit, and you let out a gasp.

“Every-” You were cut off by your own moan as Matty’s fingers continued to circle your wretched cunt. “Every time I cum, or at least for the past few days, you put your fingers in my mouth.” You explained breathlessly. A blissed out expression falling across your face.

Matty chuckled, “Smart girl.” He pushed his fingers inside of you, and they came out coated in a mixture of both of your juices. He licked his own fingers. “Just testing out an experiment. Be a good pet for your Doctor, you’ll find out what it is soon.” He joked, patting the top of your head condescendingly. You scoffed, hearing his giggle as he left the room to get a towel for you.

…

The next time he does it, he’s fingering you. The forgotten movie drones on in the background as you sink into your bed, his fingers hitting all the right spots inside of you. “So tight, s’like I never broke you in. Gotta relax if you wanna pass my exam, princess.” His voice is all cheekiness and teasing, a smirk taking over his face. You let your mouth hang open in a moan, your eyebrows furrowing.

You pulse around his big fingers, hole stretching to accommodate the size as he scissors his fingers inside of you. “Mhm, Doctor.” You sigh out, head falling to rest on his shoulder. When he pushes his fingers deeper inside of you and curls them, your hips buck off the bed. Your legs start to shake as the moans spill from your mouth.

“S’my spot, hm?” He smiles, pulling his fingers out to the knuckle before shoving them back inside of you. His thumb pushes down harshly on your clit, tracing an ‘M’ pattern repeatedly. Matty leans over, making you crane your neck from the relaxed position you were in. He lines his head up above your cunt, and spits directly onto where his fingers are disappearing inside of you.

You let out a choked moan as you watch the scene in front of you, letting your eyes flutter closed as you lay back against the pillow. You clench around him once more, “Please, Matty. I’m gonna cum.” You feel him nod against your neck, mop of curls atop his head bobbing as he does so.

“Come on, bunny. Show me how this cunt reacts to her Doctor finger fucking her, let go.” And Matty’s fingers curling mixed with his words make you fall over the edge. You clamp your mouth shut this time, but it doesn’t last for long. You feel the familiar caress of Matty’s free hand across your jaw, and you open your mouth before he even coaxes you with an ‘open up, princess.’ He sticks his fingers in your mouth, letting you gag around them as his other hand works you through your orgasm.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach as the pleasure courses through your body. You roll your hips over his hand, biting the inside of your cheek as he follows your movements. “Need you so bad, inside of me.” Matty pulls his digits out of you to spread your wetness through your slit, his own spit mixing through with the filth. Lewd sounds as he spanks your cunt with three fingers, twice. You yelp out, but can’t make any motion to move as tingles run through your body. Matty takes his fingers out of your mouth, and you let your teeth scrape them slightly.

He leaned in to kiss you, teeth clashing with his grip still tight on your jaw. “Okay, baby. I’ll give you what you want. Turn around, ass up.” You obey him without a thought, arousal already starting to seep out of you again when you see the bulge in his sweats.

…

You find out what Matty’s been playing at while you’re on your knees. He’s punishing you, for whatever reason. You’re too fucked out to remember. He already took you over his lap, edged you with his fingers and tongue, and made you grind on his thigh. Before he shoved you down onto your knees with a hand on your shoulder, he had you sitting on his cock and was playing with your clit. Every time you clenched around him, which was often, he stopped. Never letting you cum, you felt dizzy and dumb with pleasure. All you needed was release.

Now, Matty was towering over you even though he was sitting. You looked up at him through your lashes, his hard cock glistening in front of you. You let your nails scratch over his thigh in mindless patterns as you waited for his instruction. “Play with me. Better be good fuckin’ good, slut. Or I’ll just fill those pretty holes with my cum and leave you aching.” Your eyes went wide at his promise, so you made quick work.

You wrapped two hands around his thick cock, stroking him slowly. You could tell Matty was holding back groans, stopping his hips from bucking. He was already plenty wet from how your pussy was wrapped around him, so you wouldn’t have to use much spit. “I’m sorry, Doctor Healy.” You never took your eyes off his length, but your voice carried an airy tone.

“Show me, then. Go on, taste yourself on my cock.” You shuffled closer on your knees, and stuck your tongue out to kitten lick his tip. He was already leaking pre cum, his dick turning a light red color from how he was holding back. As you took him in your mouth, his hand caressed the back of your head softly. You closed your mouth, making sure to not scrape your teeth against him. Slowly taking more of him and swirling your tongue as you did so.

As you leaned forward on your knees, the open air hit your soaking pussy You clenched around nothing, holding back a moan as you continued to suck Matty off. You pulled off quickly to messily spit on his cock and kiss the tip. A guttural groan came from Matty’s chest as he continued to pet the back of your head. “Good pet, take me so fucking well. So glad I found you, my perfect little patient. Cock fits down your throat so well, and you’re so eager for it.” He rambled, your hand coming to squeeze his balls lightly. You saw his cock twitch, and you took him back into your mouth.

You took him about halfway down your throat, closing your free hand over the rest of his length and stroking. You brought your hand to your chest and tweaked your nipple as you worked him with your mouth. “Know you can take more of me, bunny. I’ve trained you up so well, show your Doctor what you’ve learned.” Matty pushed your head the rest of the way down his cock, almost making you gag around him from the suddenness.

As you took him in fully, you felt a rush of heat fall over your body. Your cunt tingled with a familiar sensation as he hit the back of your throat. You were so sensitive, and the mere sound of his voice had you clenching your thighs together. You pinched your nipple, trying to ground yourself. Were you really gonna cum from this? Just from having Matty take up your mouth?

Arousal was pouring out of you, your slick probably leaking on the wood floors beneath you. Matty thrusted his hips up into your mouth, effectively fucking his cock into your throat again. You had been so worked up from being edged earlier, and now you could feel yourself slipping. You whimpered around him. “Greedy baby, gonna cum just from having your mouth wrapped around me? You’re filthy. Go ahead, show me what a perfect little toy you are. How well you’re trained for me, bunny.” He groaned out through clenched teeth. Knowing you were the cause for his moans and dirty words sent you over the edge.

You moaned around his dick as you felt yourself falling apart, cunt clenching wildly as your hips chased the high of coming untouched. The vibrations of your groans had Matty squeezing his eyes shut and bucking to meet your movements. You were taken aback, too lost in your own pleasure. You pulled off of Matty quickly, careful to not choke. You felt your wetness dripping down your inner thighs, and your legs felt weak. “Oh my God.”

Matty gripped the back of your neck, pulling you back closer to him. “Open up.” You did as he said, and Matty inserted the tip of his cock in your mouth. He began to stroke himself, fist tightening around his cock as he continued the motions. Matty thrusted his hips up, coming in your mouth from touching himself. It didn’t take long, as he was already so worked up from your mouth. “Christ. So fucking good, princess.” You swallowed thickly, the taste of him sliding down your throat. You smiled and open your mouth wide, as if showing proof.

Matty leaned down to kiss the top of your head, pulling you into his lap. He wrapped his arms around your waist. “Thank you, Doctor.” You giggled when he pressed a bunch of kisses to your temple.

He let his hands run over your stomach, lightly rubbing and squeezing your skin. “Did so good for me, pretty girl. I’m proud of you.” He said, earnestly. “Watching you cum just from sucking me off was so hot, s’exactly what I wanted.” He smiled at you sheepishly.

Your expression turned to one of confusion, still a smile graced your face. “What do you mean it’s what you wanted? Why didn’t you tell me, then? Coulda done it sooner.” You laughed, letting your hand fall over top of his own. Relief flooded Matty at your words, his skin tinted pink.

“Why do you think I had you practically choking over my fingers every time you came?” He asks you like you should’ve known sooner, and all the pieces fall together. You slap his chest and laugh.

“Matty! Oh my God, you weren’t fucking lying when you said an experiment.” You recalled your earlier conversation, now everything was making sense. He practically cackled at your words, throwing his head back and shutting his eyes. To say what he did wasn’t turning you on even more would be a lie. You zoned out a bit, and Matty knew that look.

He smirked, leaning in to nudge the curve of your neck with his nose. “You can go again already? I’ll need some more stamina to keep up with you, feel like an old man.” He pinched your hip, and heat warmed your face at his next words. “You really are my little bunny.”