#but that’ s just because i’ m specific in how i place them

[viemarin]

₊❏❜┊my life may or may not be a mess but who cares, i’ ve got aesthetic playlists <3

[luckyashes-art]

man, you ever realize you needed to correct a small character detail to make it more accurate and then it peeves you off a lil 💀💀💀

[porcalinecunt]

Can i pls request some face sitting headcanons for bllk guys? Specifically Sae, Rin, Shido, Oliver and Bachira solely because i think they're the nastiest 😆🫣 thank God!

𝐒𝐈𝐓.

🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ face sitting with blue lock boys! ~

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐒𝐀𝐄 & 𝐑𝐈𝐍. 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔. 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑. 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀.

cw — gn!reader. afab!reader. so much oral sex. edging. overstimulation. spanking. spitting. squirting. full on tongue fucking. denied orgasms. pervy behavior. shidou being an animal.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : FUCK—this too me way too long to finish, but here it is! apologies nonnie for taking forever ;-;

₊˚ෆ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄

slow n steady always wins the race. a motto sae keeps firm when it comes to sex, no matter what he’s doing. when it comes to oral though..god. the agonizing drag of his tongue while he holds you by your hips, moving them against his mouth as he kissed your sensative clit before prodding his tongue against your hole. everytime you try to speed up your pace, his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips and waist to keep you in your place. he might as well be edging the fuck out of you until you finally feel the knot snap in two and gush all over your boyfriend’s mouth. sae, bedroom eyes and all, would admire your fucked out face and trembling body before flipping you onto your back and continuing where he left off. safe to say, you aren’t getting out of his grip until you squirted every last drop.

“s-sae..quit being a tease..” you stuttered, trying your hardest not to buck your hips. if it wasn’t for sae’s strength, you would’ve gone wild and full on rode his face like a madman. his whole arms wrapped around your thighs, gripping tighter then usual while he switched from your clit to your sensitive pussy. sae’s sharp, jade eyes staring up at yours. his pupils were blown with a burning desire all too clear to you, as if his tongue movements didn’t say enough. god, he was a patient one and it was getting on your last nerves. a thought he promptly smacked you out of with a simple strike to the ass.

“paitience, darling. or i’ll leave you like this, i can’t stand whiny whores who get greedy.”

₊˚ෆ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍

rin is more needier then his older brother, encouraging your carnal desires and egging you on as you rode his face as fast n hard as you please. the guy was basically making out with your cunt, open mouthed kisses and his tongue prying through your pussy had you gripping on the headboards or his hair. his hands roamed your body as he pleased, tracing his fingers against your stomach up to your sensitive nipples where he pinched and squeezed between his fingertips. don't think he'll stop either! long after you squirt all over his mouth, he'll only pull away just to take one long look at your fucked out face before he dives right back in again. rin gets pussydrunk a bit too easily, but why complain?

“rin..m-more, please..! i need more!” you begged and pleaded with a whine ripped straight from the jugular as you grinding your pussy against your boyfriend’s mouth. rin cracked open his eyes, through the blurred chaos, he admired your fucked out expression as you clung onto the wooden headboard for dear fuckin’ life. it was all too addictive to simple get off, how desperate and downright pussydrunk this man was, it’d be too cruel to pull away now! your thought process only strengthened when rin began to tug away at your sensative and soaked nipples from when he was mouthing at them earlier. he simply couldn’t get enough.

“stay with me..please, fuck! jus’ a little more, you can do that for me? please..?”

₊˚ෆ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐈

so much of a sloppy eater, it’s downright disgusting. shidou’s hands are unpredictable, switching from caressing and squishing the soft flesh of your ass to swatting away at it with quick strikes. don’t get me started on his oral anticts. this man is fucking eating away at your poor pussy, flicking his tongue against your sore clit while suckin’ n kissing at your abused hole. you couldn’t even move your hips with how much he’d just forced you down onto his mouth again, thus you had to sit there and simply take what he gives you, and god, the noises. besides your own moans and sobs for him to slow down, shidou’s downright animalistic growls and groans fill your ears and go straight into your cunt. don’t think he’s done either after you squirt into his mouth, oh no no! he’ll only push you onto your back with the hopes of you crushing his head with your thighs. he can’t get enough of you.

“haah..ah..r-ryu..” was all you could mutter out of your sore throat. after much whining and sobbing from the overstimulation, you could only make small noises of pleasure while shidou ate away like a man on death row. lapping up the remains of your last orgasm, he pried and pried at your hole until you swore he was tongue fucking you. grabbing fist fulls of his blonde hair only fueled the maniac to fuckin’ nip at your clit, an action that forced another intense orgasm out of your abused cunny and soaked his face even more then before. you could feel a smirk form of his lips before he landed a barrage of sharp slaps onto the flesh of your ass, dragging you out of your euphoric afterglow in time to feel his tongue pushing itself back in.

“c’mon sugar, don’t lose me now! we’re just getting started..! now, keep those pretty legs open..”

₊˚ෆ 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔

mister aiku here pays attention to both puss and ass with glee. when he told you to sit on his face, he meant it. there's nowhere that his mouth didn't touch, meaning you couldn't run from this man either. similar to shidou, he eats like a starved animal in front of a piece of meat. fingers pumping you full while he pays special attention to your poor clit with the occasional nips that would have you mewling and whining like a bitch in heat. but sadly, he's a greedy bastard when it comes to sex, pulling away right before you could have you sweet orgasm. heterochrome eyes staring daggers at your fucked out face while you pleaded for him to let you cum. you were almost in tears when oliver finally stuffed your twitching cunt with his fingers once again and went to town on your clit again. did i mention he pays attention to ass? that poor thing was covered in handprints and crecent shaped dents from how hard he was grabbing it. maybe, even a little bite mark for good measure.

“oliverrrr!” you whined out. "let me cum already! pleasee!" through tears, you could still see that bastard's shit eating grin. he was fucking enjoying this, getting off at your desperation while you bucked your hips at nothing. down there, oliver was enjoying the show he put together for himself and himself alone. his thumb ghosting over your neglected clit, his eyes flicking up to your own, pleading ones. you looked like a kicked puppy who didn’t get it’s owner’s attention, just like how oliver liked you. a shit eating grin stretched across his lips as he promptly gave your ass a hard slap before finger fucking your cunny at a furious pace. the noises it made sounded straight out of a porno as the pro player flicked his tongue around your clitty. it was all too much to handle at once, or so you claimed. you knew damn well oliver could see right through your teary eyes, and sniff out your disgusting, whorish fantasy.

“keep cryin’ like that and i’ll stop again, you hear me? i know you can pretty thing..i fuckin’ know you can.”

₊˚ෆ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

what a pervert, a proud one at that too! he couldn’t keep his grabby hands to himself all day, something the grew more and more dangerously obvious as the day went on. sneaky hands up your skirt or down your pants, gentle squeezes on your inner thighs inching too close to your wet cunt. the final straw was when you caught him trying to look up your skirt/down your loose pants. dragging him all the way home where he couldn’t even wait to get to the bed and pushed you against the wall, kneeling in front of you while patting his cheek eagerly. clinging onto whatever door frame or counter was nearby as bachira pressed open mouthed, tongue heavy kisses against your spread pussy. he was a messy eater as well, going as far as to even spit on your cunny before diving back in with the intention of drowning in your juices. bachira was full on obsessed. nothing could tear him away from your cunny, no matter how hard you yanked his hair or tried to push his head away. he’ll always come back for more!

“o-oh god..bachira, baby..!” you sighed, clasping a hand over your mouth in a feeble attempt to not alarm the neighbors. bachira quickly noticed and yanked your hand away, staring up at you with the same crazed look he had all day. he didn’t tear his eyes off of you, forcing to maintain eye contact with him as he licked and macked with your ruined cunt. your knees felt weaker and weaker, probably because of the last orgasms your monster of a boyfriend gave you, yet he just refuses to quit! not the stinging pain of you gripping his hair or even your efforts to straight up push him away so he doesn’t suffocate to death in your pussy. bachira, in retaliation, forced your wrists against the wall and gives your cunt a mean spat. you flinched in shock, watching as he simply goes back to eating you out like a madman. fuck, thank god you made it home in time.

“don’t shy away from me! i’m only getting started, my love..don’t you want me to please you? hm?”

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[freelancearsonist]

make a move on me

➔ pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader - 5.5k

➔ You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodeling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.

➔ Rated MA for baby’s first anal fic protected p in a and anal fingering (r receiving), age gap (reader is early 20’s, joel is 36), m masturbation/pillowhumping, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, gentle-turned-rough sex, pet names (baby, darling, honey, good girl, baby girl, little lady), slight degradation and condescension but only in a sexy way, one use of “slut”, pussy pronouns, one (1) pussy slap, gratuitous dickscription, heavy dom/sub dynamics i mean seriously these power dynamics are out of control, tommy is a little bit of a shit (affectionate) [pls let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

➔ This reader insert character: has female anatomy and uses feminine pronouns, no name/no use of y/n, is generally able-bodied, fits in joel’s shirt and is implied to be shorter/smaller than him, is on summer break from college but no major/year is mentioned.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. Keep his hands to himself and his mind on the job. Don’t fret over the pretty little thing who’s been draping herself all over the house ever since he started demo, practically begging to be fucked.

If he had any sense, he would pack his shit and drop the job–or, at the very least, tell your parents to put you on a leash. But there’s a little part of him that might be a glutton for punishment–that savors the teasing.

The most infuriating part of the whole thing is that he can’t blame you for this whole mess. He shouldn’t be so quick to temptation. You should be able to walk around your own home in whatever you want and not have to worry about the creepy contractor getting flustered every time he looks in your general direction.

But god, you make it hard–double entendre intended. You walk around like you haven’t a care in the world because you don’t; you’re home for summer break after a grueling year at college, and you intend to savor every languid second of it. Your preferred method of savoring just happens to be wearing tight little bikinis that barely hold anything in place as you lounge out by the pool in the Texas heat, or tight leggings that hug your ass so perfectly it almost makes him jealous of the material as you curl up with a book on your couch.

Joel’s a grown man. He can keep it in his pants, no matter how badly he wants you. But you’re not exactly making it easy on him.

Really, it’s Tommy’s fault when the levee breaks. If he could keep his big mouth shut, Joel might’ve been able to maintain the thin control he had over himself. But Tommy goes and makes an off-handed comment about you one night, and that’s the beginning of the downward spiral.

The brothers are both lounging on Joel’s couch after a particularly taxing day of demolition work, beers cradled in hands and the TV droning uselessly with some movie that they’re more staring at than actually watching. It’s late, yet weary muscles are melted so comfortably into the couch that neither of them try to move even after Sarah’s gone off to bed.

Tommy’s eyes flicker over to Joel, then back to the TV. “That girl’s gon’ be trouble for us, brother.”

There’s a question mark in the grunt Joel emits, leaning forward with interest because he knows Tommy’s talking about you without any specification.

Tommy hums in confirmation and takes a sip of his Corona. “She’s always wearin’ those skimpy little outfits a’hers, and she ain’t coy. Must catch that pretty little thing starin’ at your ass even more than I catch you starin’ at hers.”

Joel plays it off as best as he can until Tommy goes home for the night with a half-assed promise to actually be on time in the morning for once. Then he goes up to his room, locks the door, and wraps himself around the spare pillow that lays against his headboard.

He tries so desperately hard not to think about the plump round curve of your ass, or the enticing way you lick your lips, or those damned little bikinis you favor. He grinds his aching cock into the soft pillowcase and tries to think about anything that isn’t you.

But he comes with a muffled growl of your name anyway, face pushed deep into the pillow and hips jerking arrhythmically.

There’s not much he can do now besides clean himself up and try not to think about how thoroughly fucked he is.

The next day is torture because he can feel your gaze lingering. He catches you checking him out on more than one occasion, and you’re brazen about it now. You can tell something has shifted, so you shift with it. Where you once would’ve flushed with heat and hurried away to your room, you now meet his heated eye contact and hold it.

Joel’s jaw hurts that night from the way it’s been hard-set and clenched all day long. He rubs over his sore temporomandibular joints with his long, thick fingers and wills himself to siphon you out from beneath his skin.

It doesn’t work.

The work helps. Laying tile is something he normally considers tedious, but it’s a welcome reprieve in your home because he can get down on his hands and knees and focus on something that isn’t you.

You see the labor he’s going through, and you appreciate it. And really, what kind of host would you be if you didn’t reward his efforts?

It starts with a pitcher of iced tea. It’s made just the way Joel likes it, with light ice and a few slices of lemon. He doesn’t know how you could possibly guess that, but it makes him want you that much more.

And then it’s cookies. Pain-stakingly handmade oatmeal raisin cookies, to be exact. You’re like something out of his most shameful domestic dreams in your cute floral-patterned apron and oven mitts as you pull the tray of cookies out of the oven, and an image of you in nothing but those mitts and that apron flickers through his mind before he can stop it.

All the while you traipse around the house like a mirage–humming along to the yacht rock that drifts from Joel’s stereo, swaying your hips in the kitchen as you put together the most delicious bologna sandwich Joel’s ever eaten, toweling off your soaking wet body after an afternoon in the pool. You’re the worst temptation Joel’s ever had to face.

It becomes his mantra. Be respectful, be respectful, be respectful.

But there’s no respect in your eyes. There’s nothing honorable about the way you bite your lip and smirk when he catches your gaze lingering on him.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. But why should he have to play nice if you don’t?

And really, the whole thing is Tommy’s fault. He started it with that first comment about you, and then he goes and calls out sick (read: horribly hungover) this morning. He leaves Joel all alone with you–gives you the perfect opening to pounce.

Or, more accurately, entice Joel into pouncing on you.

He’s just setting his tool bag down, about to decide where he wants to start today, when your beautiful face pops in through the door.

“Good morning, Joel,” you say with that gorgeous smile of yours that makes his knees go a little weak. “No Tommy today?”

He nearly chokes on his own tongue when you step further into the room wearing a plaid button-up he left here earlier in the week and booty shorts so small he has to do a doubletake to make sure you’re actually wearing anything on your lower half. You look fucking good in his shirt, and suddenly all he can think about is pulling you in and bending you over the half-finished vanity–

“N-no. He’s sick,” Joel manages to choke out. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then, “that’s my shirt, isn’t it?”

You look down and rub the time-worn fabric between your fingers like you have to think about it, like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.

“Oh, it must’ve gotten mixed in with our laundry!” The little giggle you let out is so innocent that he almost believes you. Almost. “Here–”

You start to lift the fabric up your torso in the most tantalizingly slow fashion, and he just sits there and watches it happen. He sees the first peek of skin above the waistband of your shorts, and then your beautiful stomach, then the delicious curve of a breast–

He quickly jolts out a hand to stop you in the midst of mentally willing every single molecule in his dick to control itself. “S’alright, darlin’. You keep it. Looks better on you, anyway.”

“Okay,” you acquiesce and let the fabric drop back down into its rightful place. “Can I get you anything? Water maybe?”

He certainly could use it. His neck and face are flushed red, and there’s sweat starting to form at his temples despite the relatively cool temperature within the house.

He realizes, with startling clarity, that he’s at a precipice right now. This might be the only chance he gets to really do something about this burgeoning tension that’s spread thicker than butter between you and him. He’s got a choice to make, and it’s not going to be an easy choice.

“Sure.” It comes out a bit too high-pitched, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Sure, sweetheart. That’d be great.”

“Alright,” you say with that damned giggle again. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as you leave the room, Joel feels like he can breathe again. It’s so much easier to think straight when you’re not standing there, smiling up at him and looking so damn gorgeous.

He’s got two options, when it boils down to it: fuck you or leave you alone. And he really, really wants to take you. Make you scream his name while he pounds himself into you, fill you so full that you never completely wash him out. And you want it too, he knows you do, you’re practically begging for it.

But he promised himself he would be respectful. That he would keep his hands away from the girl that’s definitely too young and too pure for someone like him–because he knows that if has you, he’ll never be able to get enough.

There’s a very clear and obvious loophole that comes to mind now; a way he could have you without ruining you, a way you could both come out of this satisfied yet mostly intact. Joel’s never been opposed to doing the hard jobs, after all.

He’s got a condom in his wallet and KY jelly in his bag–mostly used for plumbing fittings, but it’ll do the job for this kind of pipework, too.

You come back with a glass of ice water, and his resolve slips. How the hell is he supposed to initiate this? What if you say no and think he’s disgusting? What if you tell your parents? He can’t do this, this was such a horrible idea, he–

Your touch on his back is like a gentle breeze, just a flutter of your fingers to alert him to your return. He flinches a bit at the sudden contact, but when he turns you’re still so achingly close. He can smell the agonizingly sweet aroma of your conditioner and the lotion you slather on your body after showering, and all he wants is more. He wants to wrap you around him, to inhale that scent straight from the source. His resolve is back, just like that.

He doesn’t give himself another opportunity to hesitate. He places one big, meaty palm on your cheek and wraps the other around your hand that holds the glass of ice water to steady you; and then he kisses you with such bruising force it almost knocks the wind out of you.

You moan. You actually moan the second his lips meet yours, and he knows just like that–with a startling moment of clarity–that this isn’t going to be enough. He’s going to take, and take, and take–gorge himself on you until you have nothing left to give. And the strangest thing of the whole matter is that he thinks you’ll actually enjoy his greed.

“Joel–”

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs as his lips break away from yours–so low and soft in your ear it can’t be anything but a growl. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop right now.”

“I want it,” you affirm.

He searches your eyes, but he finds only earnest honesty and lust. That darkness, that pure and unadulterated want is enough to make his pants tighten. “Fuck.” 

He’s so big underneath your roaming hands as he crowds you back against the long bathroom vanity. He lifts you like you’re nothing and sets you on the counter top; he slots himself between your legs and there’s an actual stretch in your muscles to accommodate the width of his hips. One of his wide palms slips behind your head and his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging a little bit to angle your head just the way he wants it. It’s messy and frenzied and desperate–your hands gliding over tee shirt-covered muscle, his tugging your (his) shirt up over your stomach.

“Was starting to think you weren’t interested.” Your voice is heavy and breathy as he breaks away to tug the shirt over your head, casting it aside to lie forgotten on the floor.

“I’ve been tryna convince myself m’not,” he kisses into your neck. “Didn’t work.”

With a sudden roll of his hips, he has you gasping into his neck. He can’t be more than half-hard, but that bulge is formidable. Thick and straining and… suddenly you can’t focus on anything except getting him out of those tight jeans to see what you’re working with.

Your hand just barely fits around him. He’s thick and flushed, getting harder with each passing second as he scatters feather-light kisses over your neck and shoulders. He muffles a groan into your neck as you slowly pump his length–you think he’s seven, maybe eight inches at best guess. The tip of him is flushed red once you get his uncut skin out of the way, and it makes your mouth water. There’s a slight upward curve to him and a long, prominent vein that runs down the left side. It’s porn star material–you didn’t know real people had dicks like this.

“Joel… Jesus, that’s gonna be a tight fit.”

“Oh, don’t worry darlin’,” he hums, thumb ghosting over your clit in a way that makes your entire body jolt. “It ain’t goin’ in there.”

There’s nothing but pure excitement in your voice, despite the anxious gulp that tracks down your throat. “Where…”

“Flip over f’me.”

You follow his instruction with a sort of morbid curiosity, hopping down from the counter before folding yourself over it.

You can feel his eyes on you, as he takes in your willingness. It’s like you’re on display for him, for his appraisal. You’ve still got shorts and a bra on, yet you’ve never felt more exposed.

It’s almost like he can sense your mind swirling–maybe it’s because his is prone to do the same. He sets a gentle hand on your back and smooths it down your spine as he crowds up against you–you can feel the press of his exposed cock against the curve of your ass, and it makes you shiver.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs as he folds over you, caging you in with the delicious weight of his body. His lips trace along the curve of your jaw and down your neck as he speaks. “But I made myself this little promise that I wouldn’t fuck you. You got me actin’ so unprofessional, honey.”

You whine at the sincerity in his voice–all you’ve wanted since the day he started was for him to have you folded over and at his mercy like this. 

“You can fuck me,” you whine earnestly. “It’s okay, I promise. Won’t tell.”

“Mmm, I know. You’re too good a girl to go gettin’ me in trouble over somethin’ like this,” he hums–you can hear the condescension in his voice even as he praises you, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “But with all the teasin’ you been doin’... don’t rightly know that you deserve to be fucked.”

“Please–”

“However,” he continues, landing a light smack to your ass in retaliation for your interruption, “might be willin’ to take you anyway, with some conditions. Out of the goodness of my heart.”

He pauses to let you ask, “What conditions?”

And then he pauses again, asking his own question this time. Is he really going to go through with this? But he’s spent the better part of two weeks staring at your ass, and you’ve spent the better part of two weeks putting it on display for him. It’s like you’ve been silently asking him all this time to take it.

His hand slides down from where it rests on your spine, over your tailbone to where he’s been thinking about all this time. He feels the way your muscles tense up even through your shorts, and it sends a thrill he can’t describe coursing through his veins.

“You ever taken someone here before?”

“N-no.” He feels it again as his other hand comes to soothingly rub your hip–that excited-yet-nervous flutter of muscle. You haven’t run away screaming yet, and that’s the biggest motivator he could have to keep going.

“I think you ought to let me. As a thank you, for puttin’ up with all your play,” he growls into your ear.

It’s fucking dirty, the idea of letting a man you hardly know take you in such a taboo way. It’s even dirtier how fucking excited the idea has you.

“You say no right now and I’ll drop it,” he murmurs so sweetly. “Don’t ever have to talk about this again.”

You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished talking–a sly smirk spreading over your lips as you grind back against him hard enough to make him choke on a moan.

“It’s only right,” you affirm. “Gotta make it up to you for how naughty I’ve been.’

His eyes flash dangerously as he grinds his cock against you again, smearing precome against the flimsy fabric of your shorts. “Atta fuckin’ girl.”

He has your bottoms and panties down around your ankles in a flash, and he actually groans at the sight of your sticky cunt all puffy and wet and on display for him.

He can’t resist the urge to swipe a finger through your folds, delighting in the string of shiny arousal that connects his finger to your core when he pulls away. “She wants it so bad, hmm? Such a shame she ain’t gettin’ any.”

It tugs a moan from your throat, especially when he drags as much slick as he can up to circle your tightest hole. He feels the way you flutter with apprehension, and he leans back down to kiss the corner of your jaw.

“Gonna get you nice and ready, I promise. M’not gonna hurt you, baby girl.”

“Thank you, da–” You almost lost yourself there for a second–almost laid your whole hand of cards out on the table for him to see. You try not to get flustered over the slip–you simply clear your throat and try again. “Thank you, Joel.” But you aren’t nearly as smooth as you hope to be.

In a flash Joel’s free hand is lifting your head, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. They’re so much darker than normal, and it only serves to make you wetter.

“What’d you call me?”

“J-Joel.”

His hand slips down to your throat and gives it a warning squeeze–his jaw is set, you know he isn’t playing. “Try again, and tell the truth this time.”

“D… daddy.”

You try to hide your face, to cower in shame, but he won’t let you. He smashes his lips to yours at the exact second his first finger probes that tight, waiting entrance.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as he slowly breaches you, using your own slick to guide the way. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You can’t do anything but gasp, hands clutching for dear life to the edge of the counter. This feels different, and not in the way you were expecting it to. It’s tight, sure, and it feels foreign, but it also feels so much better than you ever could’ve expected it to. The subtle stretch around his thick finger is addicting.

Joel’s jaw drops at the expression on your face; you already look so thoroughly fucked-out, and he’s barely even started. “Fuck.You like this, hmm? Like feelin’ daddy’s fingers gettin’ you ready for his big cock?”

The only response he gets is a wrecked little whimper, and he props your chin up again to meet his heated gaze. “Talk to me. Gotta talk to me, tell me how you’re feelin’, or I’m gonna stop.”

“Fuck!” It’s shriller than you want it to be and you would feel pathetic if you weren’t so thoroughly overwhelmed with this new sensation. “Don’t stop daddy!”

“Feels good, yeah? How long has daddy’s little slut wanted to try this?”

But there’s no way you can be expected to answer, not when he’s adding another finger to the onslaught. Not when your legs are already shaking and you’re thinking about just how many fingers he’s going to have to use to get you ready for the massive cock you can feel throbbing against your thigh.

He retracts just as suddenly as he started, and a needy little whine escapes from your throat involuntarily.

He can’t help chuckling as he reaches for the bottle of KY jelly he’d dug out of his bag while you were getting him water. It feels like it’s been years since you left the room on that little errand for him–definitely not the barely ten minutes it’s actually been.

“Relax, baby girl. I’m comin’ right back.”

You feel the cool drizzle of the water-based substance over your hole and it forces another whine from your throat. It’s met with his thick fingers again, spreading the jelly over your hole before plunging two in knuckle-deep.

“Atta girl.” His voice is thick and sweet as honey as he slowly works his fingers, thrusting and scissoring at an achingly slow pace. “Doin’ so good f’me.”

“Daddy–”

“I know,” he coos. “I know, it’s so much, isn’it?”

All you can manage to do is nod your head, arms shaking under the strain of holding yourself upright. He sees the way your limbs tremble and he adds a third finger just to be extra cruel–although he steadies you by grabbing your hip firmly with his free hand, keeping you in place as he fucks you open with his fingers.

Everything is so hot. There’s a sticky sheen of sweat covering your forehead and your chest; you can feel your own slick dripping down your thighs.

And then his free hand drops down to thumb at your clit, and everything twists in your gut so fast it nearly gives you whiplash.

Within seconds you’re coming–no pretense, no warning. It explodes white-hot from your belly and sweeps through you to the tips of your fingers and toes with flash flood speed. One second there’s nothing more than pleasant anticipation–the next, you’re shaking and convulsing and sobbing Joel’s name as you fight with every cell in your body to remain upright.

He does his part to work you through it, thumb swiping even circles on your sensitive clit, pulling his fingers from you to pin you in place on the counter so he can continue working you through it.

“I know, I know,” he coos so sweetly in your ear over the sound of your moans and cries. “You’re doin’ so good baby, let yourself have it.”

It’s minutes before you’re breathing normally again–your legs are cramping from trying so desperately to support your shaky weight. Joel’s hands are soothing you the whole time once he lets up the onslaught on your clit; it’s like he’s mapping you, tracing over every dip and curve so tenderly you could almost forget what this encounter really is.

“Doin’ okay?” He husks into your ear–and then he’s folding himself over you again, and you can feel the insistent press of his hard cock against the curve of your ass.

For some reason, that’s what really makes it sink in. That’s the moment you realize that this is actually going to happen–that you want it to happen. Joel’s about to take something from you that no one has ever taken before, and you want him to. You’re offering it willingly, even.

You hum in response and buck your hips back, giving him a delicious taste of friction that pulls a ground from his throat. “Mhm. I’m ready, daddy.”

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He gives your hip a light pat before pulling away for a moment, and you somehow have the presence of mind to jump up on the deep countertop because you know your legs won’t be able to support you through what’s about to happen.

There’s a smile on his handsome face when he turns back towards you, lube and condom in hand. “That how you want it, baby?”

Despite everything that’s already happened, you feel so much more exposed like this. You’re completely naked, and he’s fully clothed with his pants shoved down just enough to free his dick. Even as you spread your legs to admit him between your thighs, you feel shy. And he senses it, the slight apprehension in your gaze, because his smile softens even further; he sets the lube and condom down on the counter next to you so he can grasp the collar of his worn t-shirt and tug it up over his head.

He’s beautiful for a nearly forty-year-old man, you think. He’s firm and toned, but there’s a softness about him that you can’t help admiring, especially around his belly. Your eyes eagerly lap up the soft curve of his tummy, following the tantalizing promise of his treasure trail to his cock, hard and aching for you. The ruddy, flushed tip is weeping for you; you don’t know that you’ve ever seen someone so turned on before, and it’s a heady rush of power.

He chuckles as he sees your hungry eyes taking him in–he raises one big hand to cup your chin and pull your gaze up to meet his. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so good spread out f’me like this. You sure you’re ready f’this?”

“Fuck yes,” you say with an alluring little wiggle of your hips, and that’s more than enough for him.

He pulls his bottom lip between even rows of shiny white teeth as he rolls the condom down over his length, and it’s actually intimidating like this. He’s so big and imposing and it makes your legs want to close, but–

“M’gonna go slow, okay?” He vows, voice gentle as his big, brown eyes look into yours. His fingers wrap tightly around the half-used tube of KY jelly, and he leans down to kiss you when he sees the nervous gulp that bobs your throat. “Gonna be real gentle, I promise. You tap out at any time and we’re done, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you affirm, and you feel a lot better. As out of the blue as this is, as little as you really know Joel, you can tell he’s being sincere. You trust him; you know he won’t hurt you.

The first press of his aching tip against your hole is enough to make you choke on a gasp. He’s big, and even with all of his attentive prep work to get you ready for him it’s a tight fit. You can tell it’s affecting him, too. His eyes flutter shut and he bites down hard on his bottom lip, and you can tell that he’s fighting with all his strength not to just shove himself deep inside you. You appreciate his restraint more than words can convey, so you don’t even try; you hook your arms around his neck and pull him in for a deep, messy, desperate kiss instead. His tongue licks eagerly into your mouth as he eases his hips further and further towards yours, and it’s a nice distraction from the nearly overwhelming stretch of your muscle trying to accommodate his girth.

He shudders when his hips finally meet yours, cock stuffed to the hilt into your ass. “God damn baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You doin’ okay?”

You whine at the first roll of his hips, nodding your head rapidly because words won’t come. It’s such a foreign sensation, being stretched and breached like this. Not unpleasant necessarily, but so brain-scramblingly different that all you can do is dig your nails into his strong, broad shoulders and hold on for dear life as he actually starts to fuck into you.

It’s nasty, and you’ve never been so wet in your life. You hear the sticky squelch of lube as he thrusts his hips, shoving his cock deeper than you imagined possible. Your own wetness seeps from your neglected cunt and drenches him, dripping down around his cock and wetting the dense curls at the apex of his sex.

“Shit baby, you’re takin’ daddy’s cock so well,” he whines breathlessly; one arm hooks under your knee so he can spread you open a bit wider for him, and then the other hand returns to your puffy, arousal swollen clit.

You make what has to be the most high-pitched sound you’ve ever made as his index and middle fingers start a torturously slow pace on the little bud. “Fuck daddy!”

“I know,” he coos–you think that soft, breathy, Southern twang is going to actually put you in your grave. “I know, you wanna come, dontcha? It’s okay baby, daddy’s gonna make you come all over his cock just the way you need.”

His hips pick up the pace in time with his fingers, and all you can do is lay there limply like a ragdoll. The pleasure is so much different than what you’re used to, but it’s good. It’s amazing, the feeling of him balls deep in your guts in tandem with his ministrations on your clit, in a way you never imagined it could be.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me,” he growls, hitching your leg a bit higher over his hip so he can thrust even deeper. “Fuck, m’not gonna last long like this. You’re gonna make daddy come so hard in this tight little ass.”

His words are accentuated with a little smack to the side of your ass, and it makes you moan louder still. Your head rolls back as he picks up the pace of his fingers, swirling hard and messy circles with reckless abandon. He’s not trying to prolong it anymore–he’s going for the kill.

“Fuck daddy!” Your hands scrabble for purchase on his smooth, freckled skin as he pounds harder into you. “W-want it, please, want you to come in my ass–”

“Gonna give it to you, impatient girl,” he growls deep in his chest. “You gimme one first.”

Your entire body jolts when he brings his hand down on your sensitive cunt before groaning at the way your arousal sticks to his hand and makes his fingers shine.

“She wants t’be stuffed so full, doesn’t she?” He purrs, fingers dancing so fucking teasingly around your fluttering cunt that it makes your eyes water. “Bet she’d love to be chock full’a cock right now.”

“Joel–”

“Now, now, baby, no whinin’. It’s unbecomin’ for such a sweet little lady,” he grunts, and the condescension dripping from his tone is almost enough to make you come on its own. “You’re gonna take what I give you and be grateful for it, aintcha?”

“Yesyesyesplease–”

His fingers have barely returned to your clit before you’re coming again. This one is even more powerful than before–a hurricane instead of a flash flood. Your entire body trembles with the ebbing flow of pleasurable waves–the words you’re panting aren’t even discernible English anymore.

The way you clench and flutter around him in your own pleasure pulls him over the edge faster than anything ever has before. He comes hard, chest clenching hard around his breath, cock twitching more violently than anything you’ve ever felt before as he spills his load into the condom.

It’s a long, breathless moment before he pulls himself from the vice-like grip you have around his dick. He pulls out with a deep, long groan–it makes you giggle, because it’s the most over-dramatic sound you’ve ever heard in your life.

There’s a beat, and then he starts laughing, too. At the sweet sound of your laugh, at the way he feels like he just ran a marathon, at the absolute absurdity of this whole thing. His laughter is so sweet and gut-deep and infectious, and it only serves to make you laugh harder. For a good few moments it’s just you and Joel, half naked, panting and sweaty, doubled over in laughter.

And then the bathroom door swings open and Tommy barges in. 

“I’m feelin’ a helluva lot better after sleepin’ in, what’s so funny–” He stops dead in his tracks; he sees you naked and spread out on the counter and Joel disheveled and sweating. Neither of you are laughing very much anymore as you both scramble to cover yourselves up.

Tommy quirks a brow, a smirk spreading across his lips as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Joel. “Well, well, well. What have we here?”

You don’t know how to answer when you’re so mortified, so you do the only thing you can think of–you dart out of the room and down the hall to the safety of your bedroom as fast as your shaky legs can carry you.

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[kolsmikaelson]

— ART DONALDSON NSFW ALPHABET

NOTES — been deep in my mike faist era for the longest time and i’m so obsessed w art it’s bad, so here we are! hope you enjoy <3.

WARNINGS — 18 + content mdni, fem!reader, not proofread

join my taglist or follow @rodrickhefley to see when i post

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

needy as fuck. he’ll grab his shirt that had been tossed to the floor to clean you up quickly before tossing it back onto the floor and just wrapping himself around you, keeping his head on your chest.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he looooves his arms, he always liked them, but maybe how much you like them is what made them his favorite. he’s obsessed with your legs, he loves the way they feel when they’re wrapped around his head while he’s eating you out or how they feel wrapped around his waist when he’s pounding into you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he loves to cum on your tits. it’s his favorite place to cum, other than inside of you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

the two of you met in college, when he was much less experienced, so one time when patrick is visiting he recruits him into teaching him how to fuck you better. art knew he was alright but he wanted to be great for you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

not super experienced, sure he’d fooled around some before he met you but that’s about it. with some help from patrick he definitely knows what he’s doing.

F = Favorite position ( goes without saying)

cowgirl. he’s a tit guy and loves that he can see your tits bouncing in his face while you’re riding him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

it can go either way, usually he’s a little on the goofy side, but sometimes, after a bad match he’s not in the mood to be goofy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

not clean shaved by any means but he keeps everything under control.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

the most romantic. showering you with love and affection is all that he wants to do <3.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

used to jerk off so often, but as the two of you got older he did it less and less but maybe that’s because you were always there to do it for him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

praise kink (giving or receiving), size kink, spit kink, little bit of a mommy kink if he’s feeling really needy.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

his dorm, his car (but only if parked in a decently secluded place), or the shower.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

winning gets him going, the adrenaline from the game and from winning gets the best of him every time.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

no choking, you specifically, every once in a while he’d be okay with you lightly squeezing his throat while you’re on top of him riding him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

definitely prefers giving, he’d spend as long as you let him finding out what makes you tick, exploring every inch of your cunt, but he’d never turn down a blowjob if offered.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

both! but usually fast and rough.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he loves them. a quickie before a match or before you leave for class, always put you both in a good mood.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

yes and no, it just depends on what you or he wanted to try. but he’d always at least consider it for a while if you were to ask to try something new.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

2-3 rounds usually, sometimes it could be 4. he lasts a decent while, as long as he gets you off first then he’ll let himself cum, though sometimes he’s cum in his pants when he’s eating you out but really it’s a win-win situation.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he’ll use your vibe on you every once in a while but usually he’s not huge on toy usage. but he’s not completely against it either.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he gets better at it over time but you’re usually the one doing all the teasing instead of him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

so loud, he’s always whimpering and whining and moaning in your ear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

just like patrick, he’d try and feel put how you felt about having a threesome with patrick, because at the end of the day, whether they’d admit it or not they’re not complete without the other but that doesn’t mean he loves you any less, because trust that man to be absolutely obsessed with you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

a good 5-6 inches soft, and pretty girthy too. and he knows just how to use it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

pretty high. he’s obsessed with you and obsessed with fucking you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

oh he’s out like a light. his eyes are droopy when he’s cleaning you up but the moment his head falls onto your chest, he’s done for.

© kolsmikaelson : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.

[ibunyang]

i wanted to put more thought on that modern au doodle i did with both of these gals, Alice M. (mcgee) liddell and Alice C.(caroll) Liddell who met each other in a group therapy session because i thought it would be genius. little rant on the designs i did!! based alice c.'s clothes on the particular copy of the book that i have ! it has a green cover ; this one so more green... blue... the hearts, the clock

i wanted her to seem whimsy more "weird" the orange crocs and stuff were something i found funny, she seems the type to unironically put gibits on them and such... she has a baby doll type dress and pants over it because i just think these would fit a modern alice ? peep the cat on her pants leg hehe, the flamingos and the rose vines on her coat/sleeves are a direct call to the croquet match scene too for her hair, i love making their stark differences prominent. GOD im obsessed with it OTL shes deff a more whimsical/kind bright wonder in direct opposition to alice m's dark and dreary kind of vibe weehee

speaking of her! i really wanted to base her clothes more on the environment that the game puts us in, through the first scene specifically... but i think i kind of diverted form it just a little too much and ended up hyperfixiating on blue butterflies again because of how many times ive seen those things plunging to my death. but anyway, the sort of lace/crochet over coat based on the vale of tears...weepy tear shaped crystals that i think are gorgis. there isnt a direct reason why i placed a spade on her bag other than i really like spades. (also the spade card is somewhat always kind of associated with skulls..i think..) she has a keychain of the ruin baby and the two symbols she has on her apron, gold teeth necklace too i wanted her to seem like a more darker version of alice c. but they're basically the same font different colors type of thing. alice in wonderland has been my favorite book since childhood so UGHH im just a little less than normal about these two. WAHEE okay sorry for the rant i just wanted to point things out and babble a little bit TEEHEE

[marksbear2]

Hii I was wondering if you would write for TASM peter. Also would you write the smut ABC's for any characters because I haven't seen one for him and I'd love to see it (specifically from nwh for this)

PETER PARKER X MALE READER

This is my first time ever writing one of these!! Uhm so I’m still struggling with my mental health and stuff but I promised that I’ll be back before the 23rd so here I am!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Very shocked but like in the goofy awkward way. He likes to cuddle and hold you close while smiling ear to ear. He likes to tell you his favorite things you did.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his hands, to hold and grip you close and close with him. He likes your arms the way you hold him tightly and he likes seeing your arms flex, also your back.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes facials, both receiving and giving them. He’s let you shoot your cum on his face and especially when he wears his glasses.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wouldn’t mind doing it somewhere publicly but safe. Like in the bathroom stall during school or alone at night in the park.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

None, the only experience he has was watching porn. Lmao.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary or mating press, anything that you two are close enough to make eye contact and to kiss.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

At first when you two just start out having sex he’ll let out nervous chuckles. But as you two get closer he’ll crack a joke here and there while moaning.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s not that wildly bushy but he is hairy, but it’s neat and sometimes trimmed. But on some occasion yes he is bushy.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Completely focused on you like he’s in a trance, nothing else crosses his mind only you. He wants to see you and be close with you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He jerks off pretty often, whenever you two are alone but too tired to have sex you’ll two will jerk one another off, maybe edging to.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He loves roleplaying, you or him could wear his Spider-Man suit while the other would be a fan or villain. Or other roleplays like jock and nerd.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His or your room, or the living room on the couch. He can get off doing literally anywhere so

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Hearing you say his name, hearing his name roll off your tongue, he’ll already be ready for the next round it doesn’t matter who’s the top.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Someone watching or like being cucked. He would literally crash out because he thinks the thought of s someone watching is embarrassing but someone actually wanting to have sex with you makes him wanna commit.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves giving head, he’ll be under the table or blanket sucking you off until your dick literally can’t cum anynore.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the moment, when you two both are okay and happy he would fuck you or take it in a fast but deep pace but when you two aren’t okay he likes to take it slow as deep but very gentle.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He actually likes quickies, he would try to get off as fast as he could. You two probably do it moe often then most would.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s willingly to take risk and try out new things no matter how confusing or scary it’ll be. He has an ‘You only live once’ type of mindset.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Four maybe six, he can take a lot even if your extremely rough with him. But after a long and hard rough day of hero work maybe only one round.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He owns rope and such, it’s for either of you two be tied up he doesn’t really care. Sometimes he’d use his web slinger to tie you up onto something so it’s sturdy.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to tease, he’ll give you flirty signals and winks and make innocent things like drinking water seem dirty.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s pretty loud, he whines and moans while he gasps a lot.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Whenever he’s super exhausted he would cockwarm you, you could softly thrust into him or not and just hold and cuddle him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s one of those skinny guys with a expressive dick. He’s about 5’4 inches when he’s soft and an solid 8 in when he’s hard. He’s an real grower.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s very horny, he’s not a pervert or anything but when your in the mood he’ll be in the mood to. He’s buzzing with easy arousal.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It takes him a while to fall asleep because he’s just yapping about how much he likes having sex with you and such but when you two are finally getting quiet he’ll drift to sleep in your arms.

THE END

[billskeis]

ᡣ𐭩 bus shenanigans w bill

it was mid day into the summer where you and the band were on world tour, travelling from place to place as the exhausting schedules had you all working to the bone.

of course, as part of their management team, you did everything in your power to keep the band in check.

water? done. snacks? already given. towels? passed around.

not to mention, the constant words of affirmation and reassurance that everything will be okay.

you were their escape of solace in the midst of youthful chaos.

“tomtom! where’s bill? i don’t think i’ve seen him at all today,” you pout.

“hmph, little cunt must still be sleeping. you know how he gets on tour,”

that’s right. when given the day off bill will not do anything but sleep. sleep until late evening, as unhealthy as it is, you understand from a rockstar point of view.

“ah.. okay! ‘m gonna go check up on him, see if he needs anything.”

“i don’t think that’s a good idea y/n,”

“huh?”

“ask georg or gustav, whenever we bother him during his nap time he throws a fit. gets all moody nd shit,”

“i find that hard to believe,” you cross your arms.

“alright, go see for yourself,”

“y’know what i will!”

tom clicks his tongue and sips on his coke, smirking as your figure disappears from within the bus foyer to go to where bill’s bunk was.

since you made it your mission to prove tom wrong due to your stubborn persona, it was only natural that you went to go see bill. little did you know about what bill had in store for you specifically if you had woken him.

“you’re in deep trouble, y/n.”

as you open the door to the even more cramped space, you see a figure adorned in all black under the thin fabric of a blanket covering the figure.

his body moves up and down as he breaths. sound asleep eh? you make small tip-toed steps towards the bunk bed.

“billy..? you sleeping in?”

you sit down on the hard mattress and couch under to fit yourself within the tiny space. patting bill’s still body, you attempt to wake him up.

“c’monnn you gotta wake up half the day is over and we have stuff to do—”

everything happened in a flash you don’t even know how you ended up in such a position.

bill is on top of you.

THE bill fucking kaulitz has you pinned down on the bunk bed. the grip he has on each of your wrists tighten and you wince at the pain. you don’t remember bill ever being that strong but he has been working out a bit more for their comeback.

his locs fall a down to tickle your cheeks. he looks down at you, pitiful. eyelids lowered as he gazes into yours with absolute darkness and lust. you feel yourself getting hot.

what the hell did you get yourself into?

“y/n. i was napping.”

“i-i know, but i figured that we have a lot on our plate we needed our lead singer,”

“did you? or did you wanna just come here and bother me because you just wanted to see me, hm?”

“u-um..”

he leans his face closer to yours, eyes never breaking contact as he slightly grins. he enjoys how worked out and shy you’re getting as you begin to get the cold sweats, shaking a bit.

“oh you little slut, you’re in big trouble now schatzi,”

bill begins to claw at your pants to take them off, thank god you didn’t wear anything that had any buttons or zippers because he would get so frustrated he’d rip the whole thing off of you.

“bill! there’s people on the b-bus..!”

“and? you were warned,”

“s-stop, please..”

“betcha tom already warned ya, but your pretty little head thought it was okay anyway..”

with the undressing of your pants came with your panties, that hid how coated your cunt was with slick.

truthfully and shamelessly, you were turned the fuck on.

bill wastes no time as he freed his hardened cock from his pyjama pants, already leaking with precum. as he rubs the tip up and down your slit, you whine at how sensitive you were. bill knew how to rile you up sensually or not, and it drove you nuts.

“please..”

“hmmm? can’t hear you mein maus.. gonna have to speak up.”

“please..! j-just get it over with—ah!”

you yelp at the sudden thrust of bill’s cock into your entrance. already balls deep, bill cannot help but let out a wanton moan as you clasp one of your hands on his mouth.

“fuuuck you drive me nuts..”

“q-quiet..!”

he licks at your hand playfully to which you immediately pull it away.

“b-bill!?”

chuckling, a smile is plastered on bill’s face as he sheaths his cock in and out of your pussy slowly.

“mm.. you’re so warm nd tight,” he moans as he uses both hands to caress the curves of your waist, hands exploring what’s his. he needed you, and craved you.

hey, at least he’s awake now.

bracing yourself, both his hands stop all movements as they now hold onto your waist tightly. with rhythmic thrusts, bill keeps a steady pace fucking into you as if it were his last time to.

he’s in a frenzy. bill cannot stop moving his hips. the loud squelching of how wet and slick your cunt furthered this need to fuck you into an oblivion.

bill doesn’t hear your pleads to ‘s-stop!’ or ‘slow down..’ he doesn’t notice the pool of cum and squirt mixed between where the two of you were joined on the bed sheets growing. he doesn’t notice your cunt tightening by the second and how you’ve already came.

words fall onto dead ears, your now babbling for him to stop as the pressure of his cock in your cunt makes pushes you further into ecstasy.

“b-billy! a-ah! i already came! i know now not to wake you up s-so p-pleaseeepleasepleaseplease slow down—ungggghhh..!” you attempt to whisper, but they come out as quiet screams instead.

as he snaps out of it, he takes a good look down at your body on top of him, eyes widening for a second but never stilling his movements.

“f-fuck y/n.. look at you, such a whore f’me.. me, and me only..”

“i—ugh—i can’t do this anymore.. they’re gonna hear us..,”

“pft, whatever. let them hear how much of a slut you become for my cock. you deserve this.”

you just want this to end. with a pussy all sore and sensitive from how big bill is, not to mention how with each thrust bill’s cock hits your cervix balls deep, you’re bound to not walk the next day.

bill places a kiss on your mouth, tongue assaulting every nook and cranny of your mouth as you try to keep up with him.

as his mouth leaves yours, you attempt to catch a breath from not only him kissing you but how his tip hits your g spot every single time he presses his dick into you.

“h-hahh.. bill..” you wrap your arms around his neck.

“mein schatz.. these visits better become a daily thing, wanna punish you over and over again till’ you pass out from how good i fuck you.”

georg walks into the shaking tour bus with gustav after their smoke break.

tom is sitting on the couch eating his skittles and watching the small television propped up on one of the bus walls.

“didn’t you warn her?” georg asks as he hands tom back his lighter.

your moans can be heard from the opposite side of the bus. seems as though you stopped caring about the noise.

“i did, holy shit they been at it for like an hour now..”

“EW GUSTAV YOU’RE HARD.”

“shut the fuck up.” as he covers his lap with a pillow.

[geekforhorror]

dom!ani being so pent up after a mission with you and fucking you into oblivion, degrading you about how you were flirting with some of the other jedi knights.

GODDD I LOVE THIS TY BAE

remember your place

pairing: rots!anakin x fem!reader

warning(s): SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), anakin being possessive, dom!anakin, sub!reader, rough sex, unprotected p in v sex, degradation, non-canon jedi knights, dacryphilia?

word count: 1.1k

a/n: i swear to god i’m getting worse at writing.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Anakin grits through his teeth.

He would be referring to how you harmlessly “flirted” with other Jedis on the mission you had just gotten back from. Technically, you weren’t even flirting with them. All you were doing was sharing playful smiles and saying how good of a job they did, but it looked different in his eyes. To him, you were trying to find a way to make him jealous. See, Anakin was very protective of you and wouldn’t allow his girl to act out like this without consequences. That’s how you ended up on his bed with him now towering over you.

“ ‘M sorry Anakin…It didn’t mean anything, I swear,” you say frantically.

“You know what I think, huh? I think you’re a needy little slut who wants my attention. Am I right about that?” he asks.

You felt too embarrassed at first to provide a sufficient verbal response, but you knew he would just punish you more if you didn’t. "Yes,” you answer.

“Yes what, darling?” he said cockily. He wanted to hear the words escape your lips more than anything.

“I-I’m a needy little slut,” you let out.

“That’s my girl,” he says with a confident grin.

Before you know it, he starts stripping you of your clothes until you’re left in only your lacy bra and matching panties. Unbeknownst to you, Anakin can feel himself grow hard at the sight of you almost being bare for him. Not for those other Jedi knights that were being way too friendly with you and certainly not for any other man that wasn’t him.

Anakin goes on to remove his annoying layers of clothing that were preventing him from truly pleasing you. Once he’s down to only his boxers, your eyes caught the sight of his massive hard-on that was practically screaming to be released because of all of the throbbing.

“See what your slutty ass does to me?” he groans breathily. “Y’ make me so hard even when you’re being a fucking brat. It’s so damn annoying,” Anakin says to you, not expecting an answer.

“What are you going to do about it, Skywalker?” you say with a playful smile, hoping he would do what you wanted him to.

That was the last straw for him. He already had enough when you talked to those Jedi knights, but the sass? He couldn’t have his girl talking like this.

“I think I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson since you’re being such a fucking brat for me,” he grits. With that, he proceeds to undo the clasp of your bra and throw it to the floor. He brings his hand to the crotch of your panties and isn’t shocked to find out that they were soaked from his words.

“Well, what do we have here? Looks like my little brat is drenched for me and I haven’t even touched her yet,” he tuts.

“Please Ani… I need you“ you plead.

“You gotta be more specific than that, I’m afraid,” he taunts.

Shit, he was good.

“I want you to fuck me Ani… please,”

“Now, was that so hard? You didn’t have to talk to those useless Jedi knights to get fucked by me. All you had to do was ask like the needy little thing you are,” he spat out. Before you can respond, he rips your dainty lace panties off of you, now revealing your glistening pussy to him.

“Such a pretty little pussy and it’s all for me,” he coos. He takes his boxers off shortly after before flinging them to the floor. He gives you no warning before shoving himself all the way into your tight hole. You gasp and widen your eyes at the sensation of him stretching you out with his fat cock. Before you know it, he starts to move inside of you at a harshening pace all in hopes of getting his point across. That you were his.

“Feels so good…” you moan as you’re truly lost in the moment.

“Yeah? You enjoy getting fucked like the whore you are, don’t you?” Anakin asks, already knowing the answer.

All you can do is nod at his question due to the pleasure coursing through your veins as you were being used like his own personal fuck doll.

“You’re mine, got that? Those assholes don’t know your body like I do… Can’t fuck you like I do…” he grunts with each additional thrust.

“Ani…” you let out in between soft whimpers and the sound of skin slapping against each other.

“They wish they could be me, fucking you till you’re full of my cum like the little cock slut you are,” he adds.

“Harder, Ani,” you beg of him. He smiles at this and the way you look squirming underneath him.

“Of course, my little slut likes it hard,” he says before complying with your request and jackhammering himself harder and rougher inside your clenching pussy. As if it couldn’t get any rougher, he finds that one toe-curling spot inside your cervix that makes you feel like he’s practically splitting you open. The feeling makes you arch your back in pure ecstasy and you knew Anakin fucking loved it.

You knew you weren’t going to be able to hold on for much longer at this rate as you felt the heat squeeze your abdominal walls from the inside, now spreading to your warm cunt.

“Such a good little slut for me… wrapping around me so well,” he says with a moan, relishing in the way your poor little pussy squeezed around his hard cock.

“I-I’m gonna cum… Please let me cum,” you say, more desperate than ever.

“I don’t know if you deserve to cum,” he tuts with sarcastic doe eyes.

“I promise I’ll be good,” you assure him, sounding absolutely pathetic and desperate. That was the way he liked it.

“Oh yeah?” he challenges, searching for a reason to believe your claim.

“Yes I promise! I’ll be so good for you Ani. I’m all yours,” you plead with tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“You’re damn right,” he hissed.

“Can I please cum?” you ask him, feeling like you were going to explode all over him at any given moment.

“You can cum, baby,” he says, thrusting a few more times before feeling your release splash all over his cock which he groans at. The wave of arousal washes over your quivering legs and makes your cunt pulse around him still seated deep inside you. He sloppily pounds himself into you a few more times before he cums as well, panting as he comes down from his high. You feel his seed spill into you, now hugging your spongey and aching walls. He pulls himself out of your once needy cunt before laying beside your tired body.

“Well did you learn your lesson?” he teases playfully.

“I had a pretty good teacher, but maybe I’ll take some more lessons,” you say with a grin on your face, making him chuckle.

“Maker, you’re such a tease,” he replies.

“I know,” you say in a playful tone.

[mackjlee9]

Mammon x Demon!Male!Reader [Smut]

Warning; stuck-in-a-wall trope, overstimulation, mind-break, master kink, fwb au.

Masterlist.

Game; Obey Me: Shall We Date?

Requested by Mister "A" on AO3.

(M/n) was a well-known demon in the Devildom, whether it was because of his looks or magic it didn't matter that much. He was powerful, almost as powerful as Lord Diavolo, why? No one knew, but they knew not to mess with him.

Everyone knew of the unspoken rule, but did Mammon care? Not one bit, that's for sure. Even so, it brought him so much fun and... a good fuck every once in a while.

The way they met wasn't extravagant or anything, Mammon was working in Hell's Kitchen after he fucked up and Lucifer scolded him for it, taking his dear Goldie away until he learned from his mistakes... kinda useless, Lucifer should know by now that Mammon would always be Mammon. He met (M/n) there, a man that looked rich, even if he didn't try, his demeanor and behavior screamed "rich bitch" everywhere you looked.

And Mammon just took the chance.

That chance took him to (M/n)'s bed, ending with him thoroughly fucked and almost unable to move on his own.

He kept encountering him, and with time, they just turned into friends with benefits.

But now, Mammon is really questioning the reason he came over, watching through the invisible wall how (M/n) walked closer to him, unbuckling his belt.

I'm fucked...

//////

(M/n) had received a text from Mammon telling him he had been gambling and lost a lot of money, so he needed to hide from Lucifer and the people he owned money to for a while, just until he was able to get the correct amount, or have someone else pay for it.

He doubted for a few seconds, painfully aware of how Mammon would take someone's expensive belongings to sell and continue gambling, he has a really bad habit of stealing and losing it all, so, even if he's not used to using his powers unless he absolutely needs to, (M/n) went around his apartment, placing spells around anything that could catch Mammon's eye, specifically leaving the expensive stuff in plain view.

He trusted Mammon would never steal from him, he's never done it before, but this time, he was hiding from Lucifer and who knows how many other people, so he couldn't be sure.

The most valuable stuff was in his room, and leaving a good amount of money on the desk, he placed the biggest trap on it. The other spells would only zap him or create a wall of protection, but this? This was gonna trap Mammon until he decided to break the spell.

A few minutes later, the bell rang and Mammon's voice could be heard through the door.

"(M/n), open up~!" He said in a cheerful voice, making the male show a small smile as he rolled his eyes.

He opened the front door, being greeted with a hug from the white-haired male before he made himself at home.

They didn't do much, they watched a movie, a few chapters of a popular series, and talked a bit, unusual behavior for them, since they only met up to have sex, but not this time.

"I need to use the bathroom, excuse me," (M/n) muttered setting his beer down, standing up, and going to his bathroom.

"Sure~ I'll wait," Mammon said looking down at his phone. He heard the bathroom door close and he stood up, searching around to find anything he could take without (M/n) noticing, "Nope, that's too obvious," he whispered while looking at the big black vase holding a bouquet of flowers, "Well... it looks really expensive-"

He bit his tongue and turned around before he decided to take that, and he kept swiftly looking around, soon spotting (M/n)'s bedroom door open. His mind flashed with all the small but valuable things he has seen in there while getting his brains fucked, and taking a deep breath to steady his speeding heartbeat, he walked in.

Mammon didn't have to search around for long, because on top of the desk, very obviously in plain sight, there was a small pile of cash. He didn't think much of how it was placed, it was almost as if it had huge arrows pointing at it, and a megaphone repeating 'Money! Right here, Mammon!' over and over again.

Everyone knows that Mammon isn't the brightest of the bunch, and he's aware of that, and tries to be better, it just... never works.

Rushing without a care in the world, Mammon placed his hands on the money and grabbed it, but before he could react, the trap had been activated, the money disappearing as it was never there, he tried to move closer to look around to find it, but as he bent over the desk, he got trapped in a spell. A magic wall.

Now he realized he fucked up.

(M/n) came out of the bathroom, and saw the living room empty, so he knew his plan might've worked, he just had to find Mammon, and by the sounds coming through the slightly open door of his room, he didn't have to look for long.

There, he saw Mammon struggling to try and break free from the grip the magic wall had on him, but it really wasn't working, even more, since the spell (M/n) used disabled the abilities of who it catches, so Mammon really wasn't getting out of there. And while trashing around, Mammon had seen over his shoulder through the invisible wall.

And that takes us to the present.

"(M/n), how nice it is seeing you! Could you please help me?" The (h/c) haired demon stayed silent for a few seconds, enjoying the flustered look on Mammon's face after being caught, and soon a smirk grew on his face, reaching his hand down to unbuckle his belt.

"You need punishment, love."

//////

"M-master, please... I-I can't cu-cum anymore~," Mammon's words were slurred, his eyes rolling into the back of his head with every hard thrust inside him, hitting and stimulating his prostate endlessly, his hands gripping the desk, leaving the scratch marks of his nails on the dark wood.

(M/n) kept a tight grip on Mammon's hips, using his magic to create a phantom hand that would grip his white hair, pulling it and keeping his head up.

"You should've thought twice before trying to take my money, darling," (M/n) slowed down his thrusts, his hips flushed against Mammon's, every inch of his cock buried deep inside him.

"Fuck~!" Mammon's voice came out an octave higher, his legs trembling, his dick twitching and oozing cum, "I'm sorry, please! I won't... I won't do it again, Master~"

(M/n) made the phantom hand turn Mammon's head a little toward him, their faces almost pressed together through the wall, "You mean it?" Mammon nodded frantically, tears filling his eyes and drool slowly dripping down the corners of his mouth.

"Please, I'm sorry... please please I can't-" his words were mumbled, sounding almost like a babble, and (M/n) was enjoying the view of an overstimulated Mammon, maybe a little too much.

"You want me to let you go?" Mammon whimpered and nodded, whining a small 'yes~' as his hands desperately gripped the desk harder, his legs were trembling so much he was glad (M/n) and the wall was holding him up, "Make me cum then."

(M/n)'s words were followed by hard, deep thrusts, filling every inch of Mammon's pulsating insides, making him cry out with pleasure, cum just leaking from his cock and his body shaking from the feeling of his prostate being pounded. He was fully crying now, tears sliding down his face and neck, some drops falling to the ground he was standing on.

Mammon's mouth was wide open, releasing lewd moans and whines, his eyes closing every few seconds, his eyelashes soaked with his tears.

What a pretty sight~

The phantom hand released Mammon's hair, sticking its fingers in his mouth instead. Mammon moaned around the digits in his mouth, and with slow motions, the hand started finger-fucking his mouth, making the demon choke on his moans and drool.

Knowing about Mammon's small oral fixation was a nice detail (M/n) casually found out, and hearing Mammon's muffled moans, getting louder and louder just made him feel accomplished, especially when he felt Mammon clenching around his cock every time the fingers went to far back in his throat.

He really liked this fucked dumb Mammon, so maybe he'll start leaving money out everywhere where the greedy demon could try and take it. Just maybe.

(What the fuck did I just write 💀 this is the worst)

(I ran out of ideas, if you didn't realize 🙃)

[twignotstick]

Liar, Liar

Note: The characters in this fic are from @rufwooff 's teenage mutant ninja everything-but-turtles au. Leo is a salamander, Mikey is a toad/frog, Donnie is a gecko, and Raph is an alligator. It can sort of be read as a rise fic if you ignore the... frog stuff? But there are things that might not make sense without knowledge of the au. This post specifically inspired the fic.

Tags: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, ROTTMNT, Leo-centric, NOT MY CHARACTERS, Teenage Mutant Ninja Everything-but-Turtles, tmnebt, turtle tots (still unsure abt that one), dialogue written like a child, lying, extremely fluffy, but with a hint of angst

Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): nothing, why would i ever hurt kids :)

Words: 4,647

Summary: Leo finally gets to spend a day alone with his little brother, Mikey. When things go wrong, he decides to save himself. After all, what's so bad about a little lie?

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

“Can grow to doo-ble the size in a few… h-owers…”

Leo held the small package he'd found close to his face, trying his best to read what the label said. Donnie had told him it was some kind of toy, but it just looked like a plastic whale to him. Mikey watched Leo from the bowl he was quickly outgrowing, listening intently to Leo's somewhat successful attempt at reading.

“Leave in a cup or bowl of wwwater and watch the magic!” Leo read triumphantly, holding the toy in front of him. The salamander looked over to his little brother. “We just need a cup or something to use it!”

“Wah'der!” Mikey noted wisely, bracing himself on the edge of the glass.

“Right!” Leo nodded, face turning pensive. “But I can't reach any of the cups or bowls in the kitchen, and Dad doesn't want me climbing on stuff anymore…”

“Waphie?” Mikey suggested.

“Raph's busy with Dad cooking dinner. Bo-ring.” Leo sighed. “And Donnie said he was studying today…”

“Hmm…” Mikey hummed, before his eyes lit up. “Bow’!” He squeaked, rocking his bowl side to side. “Bow’! A bow’!”

“No Mikey, we need a-” Leo caught on. “Oh, a bowl. You're a genius, Mikey!”

Mikey squeaked and squealed in response to the praise, wiggling what was left of his tail in the water. “Tank you.”

“Alright then, Mikester. You're gonna have to show off how good you are with those new legs.” Leo wrapped his arms around his baby brother's body, struggling for a moment to get a good grip with both of them having slippery skin, but he eventually hefted Mikey out of the bowl under his armpits and placed him on the stone floor. “This'll be a good oppa-tunity for you! You just gotta stay here while I fill up the bowl the rest of the way, okay?”

“Okie-dokie!” Mikey replied cheerfully, patting his newly grown hands on the floor. They had been fully developed for about a week, but he had yet to do much with them other than waving and clapping.

Taking Mikey's word without any doubt, Leo picked up the half filled bowl and carried it away to the nearby tunnel. Sure, he knew he wasn't supposed to go into the tunnels by himself. And sure, he knew he wasn't supposed to leave Mikey alone when they were playing. But Leo was a big boy! And so was Mikey! Mikey had all of his limbs now! That, Leo didn't exactly understand, because Leo always had all his limbs, just like Raph and Donnie. Mikey was just a ball with a tail and eyeballs. A tadpole, Donnie's voice reminded him. Now Mikey was a toadlet, which meant surely he was grown enough to be on his own for a few minutes.

It wasn't like Leo didn't like spending time with Mikey. He loved watching movies with him, coloring things with him, even chatting with him despite his more limited vocabulary. Mikey just… couldn't play a lot of the games Leo liked to play. Leo liked to move, and Mikey couldn't move a lot. Mikey couldn't play tag, or hide and seek, and he could only play Jupiter Jim if he was playing as Godfred, the Goldfish King. Even then, he was no fun to play with without his royal guards.

Today, Leo got to play with Mikey without supervision, a job usually reserved for his older brothers. It was a total breeze, he had found out, because Mikey was so stationary. Babies were boring, but they were easy.

Leo carried the bowl back, making sure to spill as little of the mildly murky sewer water he had collected as possible, and put it down right next to the toy he had left on the floor. Right next to the puddle where Mikey was sitting before.

Puddle?

“Boys! Come eat!”

“...spit.”

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

Leo walked into the kitchen with a nervous smile on his face, finding that Raph and Donnie were already seated with food in front of them. Both plates were filled with vegetables and meat, and Splinter was preparing two more plates with more of the same.

“Hello, Blue,” Splinter greeted, glancing around Leo's sides. “Where is your brother? I thought he was with you.”

“H-he was! He just got reeeally tired,” Leo lied, swaying on his feet and swishing his tail slowly. “So I tucked him in bed. He was really, indubitably tired.”

“You don't even know what that word means, Leo.” Donnie glared right into Leo's soul, pushing his glasses up as Leo sat down next to him.

“Yes I do! I-it means Mikey was really super tired!”

“Purple, do not be rude to your brother,” Splinter scolded. “If Orange was tired, he should sleep. He is a growing boy. Thank you, Blue, for tucking him in. He can eat later, after he wakes up.” Splinter finished preparing a plate for himself, then sat down next to his sons and began eating. “Did you all enjoy yourselves today?”

Raphael nodded. “I showed Cheech how to beat up the practice dummy right! He wasn't too good at holdin’ Raph's sais though.”

“That is very kind of you, Red. I'm sure that Cheech will improve if you keep training him.” Splinter smiled kindly.

“He won't,” Donnie whispered, leaning into Leo's ear. “Teddy bears can't do ninjutsu.”

“I think Raph can teach him, Raph's good at teaching,” Leo whispered back.

“What about you, Purple?”

Donnie straightened his posture, his tail sticking straight up for a moment, straightening his glasses again. “I actually did some very helpful research using the encyclopedia that Dad found and the book on reptiles we got a while ago.” He looked around at his brothers. “I learned a lot about our different species. I looked pretty closely into toads and frogs so I could talk to Mikey about his current state, but apparently I can't, because he fell asleep at 6 pm.” Donnie side eyed Leo questioningly.

“You can tell him about what you learned tomorrow, Purple,” Splinter said. “I'm sure whatever he and Blue did today was exhausting, was it not?” He asked, redirecting the conversation to Leo.

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Leo agreed fervently. “Me and Mike were having so much fun. Like, Mikey was having sooo much fun, he literally passed out! And I put him in bed, like a good big brother!”

“He… passed out?” Raph asked worriedly.

“Yeah! Like, knocked out hard. Totally asleep. And I tucked him in good!”

“In his tub.” Donnie raised a drawn eyebrow.

“That's right!”

“Boys, there is no need to argue about this,” Splinter said with a strained smile as the brothers finished eating and put their plates away in the sink. “We should all be happy for Blue, who has proven himself as a big brother.”

“He's sure proving something, alright…” Donnie murmured with crossed arms. 

“You can spend a little more time up, but I want you to get to bed soon as well. Meanwhile, I will be taking this opportunity to take a nice, long shower.” Splinter shook his robed arms, showcasing the small clumps of fur gathering across his body. “This stuff gets oily way faster than you would expect.”

“Don't worry Pops!” Raph said, standing absurdly tall for a child of his age and swishing his unruly tail. “I'll check on Mike, then I'll make sure Leo and Don get to sleep too! You have my word!” Raph tried to hold up a military salute, but he caught his hand on his large jaws and hit his head backwards, tail and arms flailing to make sure he didn't fall. He looked distraught for a moment, before making a show of shaking off the pain to be strong for his dad.

Splinter sighed. “Thank you, Red.”

Leo straightened up, eyes widening as he saw his brothers going toward their room,  and dashed over to the sink to drop off his own plate so he could follow. Quickly, would be preferable. 

“Blue? May I speak with you?”

Spit.

Leo stood with the most relaxed posture he could muster as he faced his dad, leaning on the countertop behind him with one elbow. “Sure, Pops!”

Splinter kneeled down in front of the salamander. “I wanted to thank you for spending the day with your little brother. I know that he is still unable to do many of the things that you can, but it is good to hear that you included him in your games anyways.”

“Oh,” Leo said, losing his fake nonchalance for a moment. “It… it was no big deal, Dad.”

“I would say it was a big deal, Leonardo.” Splinter placed a paw on Leo's shoulder, smiling softly at his son. “Once Orange hits the growth spurt he is bound to, it will be much more difficult to keep you boys from bouncing off the walls. I am glad to know I can trust you to take care of your little brother.”

Leo's heart dropped in his chest with guilt, but he kept his outward appearance well enough. Internally, he was screaming to run away and stop his brothers from reaching the bedroom. “Of course, Dad. Mikey was actually really really super fun to hang with! Not boring at all! He actually was playing way more than me, and like, he was really cool and stuff. And fun to play with,” he added carefully.

Splinter stood up, cracking his back. “That is great to hear. Now-” he clapped his hands- “to wash the gunk out of this gross fur!” 

As soon as Splinter skipped away, Leo fumbled over his feet to rush to the bedroom. He kicked his tail a few times, but ignored it in his frenzy. His brothers were already there! It was over! He would never be trusted again! Not by Raph, not by Donnie (though who really cared about that), and most importantly, not by his dad!

When Leo got to the shared bedroom, he slid on the floor to turn in the doorway as fast as possible, only to find Raph terrifyingly close to Mikey's tank.

“WAIT!”

Both of his brothers looked up at him immediately. Donnie's glare from where he sat on his bed quickly changed from confused to exhausted. “And why, dear Nardo, would Raph need to wait?”

Leo hesitated. “Well, b-because-”

“No, Leo. You've been super suspicious ever since you came to dinner.” Donnie stood up, putting the book he had in his hands down.

“No I haven't!” Leo defended. “I don't even know what that means, so I can't be that.”

“It means you've been acting weird because you're hiding something!” Donnie accused.

“Am not!” Leo defended.

“Yes, you a-”

“Guys!” Raph whispered furiously, catching the other boys’ attention. “If you're gonna fight, do it quiet. Mikey's still asleep.” The oldest brother turned away, not being able to see the despaired expression on Leo's face, and approached Mikey's corner of the room where his small tank sat.

Donnie looked back at Leo with disdain. “Whatever you're hiding, you should just cough it up. Dad doesn't like liars.”

“Well that's great, cause I'm not lying. I'm like, the least liar-est person ever.”

“Uh, Donnie?” Raph asked quietly from his spot by the tank. “Didn't you say Mikey was supposed to mecha-morph-uh.. whatever?”

“Metamorphosis. It's the process through which a tadpole becomes a frog or toad. Commonly associated with frogs and butterflies, which come from caterpillars. And technically, the word would be ‘metamorphose’, in this context.”

“I think he meta-morph-osed into a whale instead…”

Leo held his breath.

“What?” Donnie walked over to the tank, continuing to ramble. “No, he's supposed to metamorphose into a fire bellied toad, not a whale. There's no way that- GASP!” Donnie plunged his hand in the tank, coming back out with an unmistakable item. “You left his bowl in the tank?!”

“What?! I-I don't know how that got there, I swear!” Leo stammered, grabbing the hem of his shirt.

“You said you put Mikey to bed! Mikey isn't here, but his bowl is!” Donnie shouted. “You lied! You lost Mikey!”

“N-no I didn't!”

“Oh yeah? Then how did his bowl get here?”

Leo puffed his cheeks, fuming. “It wasn't even my fault! Mikey said I could use his bowl!”

Raph gasped this time, like a normal person. “You really lost Mikey?”

Leo's anger faltered at the sad face on his big brother. The reality of the situation was finally settling in. “I-I didn't mean to. I just went in the tunnel for one second-”

“You went in the tunnels?!” Raph screamed.

Leo winced. “It was just for like a second, and nothing even happened!”

“Clearly, something did happen,” Donnie interjected, putting the bowl down. “You. Lost. Mikey!”

“I did not! Mikey said-”

“GUYS!” Raph slammed his tail on the ground, scaring his brothers into attention. “Right now, Raph's gonna ignore all the rules you broke. We don't need to fight about who to blame, because Mikey is missing. He could be in danger, or worse, already hurt. We need to find him before Dad finds out.” Raph stepped closer to Leo. “Now, where did you lose Mikey?”

“I didn't lose hi-”

“Mikey was under your supervision. Now he's gone. You lost Mikey,” Donnie said sternly. “Where did you lose him?”

Leo stared down at his feet, then sighed heavily. “It was right by the tunnel entrance, by the toy room. When I came-d back in, there was just a puddle where he was sitting before.”

“A puddle?” Donnie asked.

“Yeah, that's what I just said,” Leo groaned.

“No, that could be a clue. Show us where the puddle was,” Raph urged.

“Uh, okay.” Leo turned around and walked down the hall with his brothers in tow. He couldn't help but feel their eyes glaring into his back, judging him. Hating him for lying. For putting his baby brother in danger.

Maybe he wasn't a good big brother like Dad had said. Mikey was the only little brother he had. How did he screw that up?

They reached the end of the hall, and Leo was surprised to see a little bit of dampness still on the floor, even after almost an hour. “He was right here,” he said, crouching down to look.

“Hm,” Donnie hummed, crouching down as well. “Just as I thought.” He put a finger in the spot on the ground, surprising his brothers when his hand came up with something slimy. “Mikey didn't just leave the water from his bowl, he also left mucous.”

“Mucous? Like, he snotted everywhere?” Raph questioned.

“No, it's not snot. It's mucous. Many frogs and toads produce mucous with glands on their skin that helps keep it moist. In some, it also helps them breathe through their skin,” Donnie explained.

“So, Mikey left his skin snot on the floor,” Leo gathered.

“No. It's mucous, not snot.”

“Hey, look!” Raph pointed to another spot on the floor. “More snot!”

“Follow it!” Leo said, running over to the spot and searching for more.

Donnie pinched the bridge of his snout. “Again, not snot, but okay, we have a lead.”

“Why's it in spots, and not, like, little froggy footprints?” Raph asked, following as Leo spotted more spots.

“It's possible that Mikey figured out how to hop,” Donnie said.

“Ha! So this was worth it!” Leo said, pumping a fist. “I taught Mikey how to hop!”

“Or, you taught him how to hop off a cliff and die. Or hop right into a human's home,” Donnie replied.

“Donnie…” Raph whispered.

Leo didn't respond, instead choosing to keep following the spots. There were a few he saw on the walls, which he noted curiously. They traveled all throughout the lair, slowly becoming more recent. Eventually, the brothers found a place where they entered a door.

The bathroom door, where soft singing could be heard on the other side.

“Aw, spit.”

Raph elbowed Leo's shoulder. “Dad said you shouldn't say that anymore.”

“Why? It's not a bad word. I can say it all I want! Spit, spit, spit-”

“Guys,” Donnie said, “let's worry more about the mucous going into the room where Dad is showering.”

“Oh, right.”

The trio opened the door slowly, getting facefuls of steam that fogged up Donnie's glasses, causing him to back out. Leo and Raph stuck their heads in, surveying the area. Splinter's operatic singing filled their ears, making them wince. However, in the midst of the steam filled bathroom, they spotted what they were looking for.

Mikey was perched on the edge of the sink, looking at the closed shower curtain with wide eyes.

“Mikey!” Leo whispered, getting Mikey's attention and drawing his eyes. “Hey Angelo! Come here, come to Leo!” He held his hands out, beckoning.

Mikey squeaked softly, waving at Leo, then pointing at the shower.

“Nonono, don't go there buddy, hop over here!”

Mikey grinned, then readied himself to jump straight at the curtain.

“MIKEY!”

The clattering of metal and screams of the boys cut off Splinter's singing, as Mikey hopped right onto the curtain and pulled the curtain rod down. Raph pushed past Leo into the room, catching Mikey before he fell to the floor with the curtain.

Splinter, despite being covered with soaked fur, tried to cover himself and turned the shower off. “Boys!? What is the meaning of this?!”

Raph fumbled to keep Mikey in his arms. “Sorry, Pops! Mikey was just-”

Mikey turned around in Raph's arms, reaching out to Splinter. “Hi Daddy!”

“Orange? What are you doing awake?”

“He, uh, he woke up!” Leo said, pushing in front of Raph. “We had to follow him here.”

“Follow him?” Splinter raised an eyebrow.

Raph looked at Leo, unsure.

“Yes?” Leo said nervously.

They all stood still, Leo patting his toe on the floor. He couldn't tell if he was sweating of fear, or if it was just the steam in the room. The tension felt as thick as the steam filled air.

“LEO LOST MIKEY!”

“What?!”

“DONNIE, YOU SNITCH! I DID NOT!”

“YES YOU DID! AND YOU LIED! LEO LIED!” Donnie screamed from outside the room.

“Donnie! Stop being mean to Leo!” Raph said, struggling to keep a hold on the boy in his arms. Mikey wriggled around, bracing his feet on Raph's chest and hopping off, sending himself flying into Splinter's arms while also hitting Raph's jaws shut with a clack and nearly sending Raph falling backwards.

“Orange!” Splinter caught Mikey deftly, checking him over. Then, he looked back up to his other sons. More specifically, at the one who had just been basically slapped by his own jaw. “Red, are you okay?”

Raph grunted, but nodded slowly as he held his snout.

“Good. That was very rude of you, Orange,” he said to the son in his arms. “What do you say?”

“I'm sowwy, Waphie…” Mikey mumbled with innocent eyes. Raph gave a weak thumbs up in response.

“Good job. I'm very proud of you for learning how to jump.” Splinter looked at Leo, who physically shrank.

“I-I swear, I didn't meanta lose him. We were just playing, a-and he said-”

“He can tell me what he said.”

Leo felt tears trying to force their way out behind his eyes.

Splinter sighed, dropping his shoulders. “Red,” he addressed, “make sure your brothers get to bed. With no screens,” he said, shooting a glare at the door.

“I would never!” Donnie scoffed from outside.

“I will come to tuck you in as soon as I am done with my shower. I have a feeling that Orange won't let me go without giving him a good bath, too,” he added, causing Mikey to squeak and laugh in his hold.

“No problem, Pops,” Raph said, walking toward the door.

Leo blinked, confused. Where was his scolding? Where was his slap on the wrist? This couldn't possibly be that bad, right? “B-but I-”

“Go to bed, Leonardo.”

Leo shut up fast, swallowing all of his tears and excuses. He followed Raph glumly out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Raph was standing outside with a concerned look on his face, while Donnie wore a smirk.

“I told you Dad doesn't like liars.”

Leo walked past, trying to get to the bedroom with as little eye contact as possible. Raph reached to grab his shoulder, but he shrugged it off and walked faster. Donnie's words echoed in his head.

Dad didn't like liars. Leo was a liar. Dad was the one that took care of them.

He could kick Leo out.

He'd have to live in the tunnels. Or maybe, Dad wouldn't let him live in the tunnels. He'd have to live on the surface, with the humans. The humans who wanted to catch him. Who wanted to pull him apart to see what he was made of and then piece him back together to see what he could do. He would die without his dad. He didn't want to live without his dad. Without his brothers. Without Mikey. Because he did love Mikey, even if he lied. At least he thought so.

Maybe Dad wouldn't care now. Maybe Dad didn't love him now. Leo was a liar. Dad doesn't like liars. Why would he?

Leo flopped into his bed as soon as he reached it, pulling the covers over himself and turning in to face the wall. Raph attempted to talk to him, but Leo only curled up tighter, pulling his tail up so far he could see it in front of his face.

Eventually, Raph gave up. Leo heard him softly scolding Donnie, but tried to ignore it as silent tears fell off his cheeks.

Just when he thought he was about to fall asleep, Leo heard the bedroom door opening. He wiped his face and turned slightly, seeing Splinter walk first to Donnie's bed, then to Raph's, before finally coming toward Leo's.

He noticed Mikey sitting in the doorway, who waved when he caught Leo's eyes. Leo waved back slowly.

Splinter kneeled by Leo's bedside, just like he would any other night to tuck him in. Usually, this would bring Leo warmth and comfort, reminding him that his father loved him. This time, Leo couldn't fight the sense of dread that filled his chest, making it feel like he was breathing something heavier than air. He wasn't getting tucked in. He didn't deserve that anymore. He was a liar.

Dad doesn't like liars. 

His father's eyes seemed to see right through him. “I am very upset with you, Leonardo.”

Leo tensed, but kept looking at Splinter.

“I am not upset that you lost track of your brother. You are a child, and I cannot expect you to be perfect. Do you know why I am upset?”

Leo nodded slowly, then mumbled, “Because I lied…”

“Exactly. It is because you lied. You could have told me as soon as it happened, and I would have helped you look for him. Instead, you lied and put your brother at even more risk. You could have fessed up when I saw Michelangelo in the bathroom. But yet, you still didn't. You didn't admit to your own fault. It took Donatello telling me for you to finally confess. And even then, you tried to rid yourself of all guilt.”

Leo sniffed, tearing up again. “Are you gonna kick me out?”

Splinter's eyebrows raised in shock. “What? No, I will not kick you out. Why would I ever do something so horrible?”

Something shattered.

“But… but I lied! I hurt Mikey! I-I'm a bad brother!” Leo's tears started flowing openly.

“No, no, Blue, you are okay. Shh…” Splinter rubbed his hand across Leo's face, wiping a tear away.

Leo sniffled and hiccuped, holding onto the back of Splinter's hand and softly sobbing. “I'm sorry, Dad, I-I didn't want to…”

Splinter rubbed his son's cheek, hushing him quietly. “I know. But that does not change what you did.” He looked deeply into his son's eyes, ensuring he had his full attention. “I forgive you, but this cannot go without punishment. I will not kick you out, and I never would. You are my son. Instead, you will be grounded for a month.”

Leo whined, but nodded. “Okay…”

“However, I believe that taking away the things that bring you joy will not make you learn the lesson that you need to learn. That is why, during this month, you will not be disallowed from doing anything in our home. Do you understand that?”

Leo nodded.

“The only caveat is that you must spend the entire month with your brother, Michelangelo. You will only do things that he wants to do. You will not plant ideas in his head or put words in his mouth. You will only do things that he says he wants to do. If he ever wants to spend time away from you, you will spend that time with me. Do you understand?”

“Mhm.” Leo nodded again.

“Perfect.” Splinter smiled. “I forgive you for this, and I hope that through this grounding period you can regain my trust.”

Leo smiled as well and nodded one last time, wiping one last tear with the heel of his hand. “I hope so too.”

Splinter turned to the doorway and waved Mikey over with his hand. Mikey grinned and hopped over, much quicker than Leo had expected. He stopped at Leo's bedside, slowly using the bed to brace himself as he stood up on shaky legs, then looked at his father.

“Tell Blue what you told me, Orange.”

Mikey wobbled for a second, then looked up at Leo. “I, um, I'm sowwy I went away when you said not go away. And I'm sowwy, um, I jumped at Daddy when you said not to do… And, um, I wwwanted to s'eep in a big boy bed tonight, cause imma big boy now, but I don't got a big boy bed, can I s’eep wi’ you.” Mikey finished the sentence like a statement, not a question, but his intention was clear.

Leo looked for just a second at his dad, who nodded encouragingly, before looking back at his little brother. “Sure, Mike. Hop on up here.”

Mikey did just that, with more force than Leo had expected. “Wow, Angelo, you've really got good legs now!” Leo said, catching Mikey in his arms and helping tuck him into the blankets. Meanwhile, Splinter walked to Mikey's tank and came back with his bowl and a towel.

“Alright, boys. Orange, your bowl will be right here if you need to soak, and your tank will be there if you want it.” Splinter pulled the blanket up, kissing each boy on the forehead. He cringed and wiped his lips after kissing Mikey, making the boy squeak and giggle. “Sleep well, my big boys. I am so proud of you, and I love you.”

“Love you too, Dad,” both boys chorused. Mikey snuggled into Leo's chest, letting Leo hold him like a stuffed animal. Leo only flinched for a moment at the slimy feeling of Mikey's skin (mucous, not snot).

Splinter walked out of the room, and it was barely even 20 seconds after he heard the door close that Leo heard a whisper coming from beside him.

“I'm sowwy, ‘eo,” Mikey murmured.

Leo looked down at his brother, confused. “You already said sorry. You don't gotta say it again.”

“But I said sowwy then cause Dad said,” Mikey explained. “Now, I said sowwy cause Mikey said.”

“Oh.” Leo settled back in, putting his chin on Mikey's head. “Well, I'm really sorry too. And that's cause Leo said,” he added, smirking.

Mikey giggled and squeezed Leo tightly, wiggling beneath the sheets. In a matter of minutes, the young amphibian had completely fallen asleep, slightly drooling on Leo's pillow. He didn't mind.

Leo grabbed onto Mikey and closed his eyes as well.

He never wanted to let go again.

○●○●○●○

Did I tell myself I would write au comp propaganda? Yes. Did I write a fic about an au completely unrelated to the comp? Yes, and I'm not sorry. I figured since another round finished up today, why not post something?

For real, I've had some insane art block recently, and writing has been keeping me sane. I tried writing propaganda, hated it, then realized, you know what makes me feel better every time? Turtle tots.

In this case, everything-but-turtle tots.

Shoutout to @rufwooff for making one of the most serotonin filled aus I've seen in a while, and fueling my exhaustion-induced writing spree. And go check out @tmntaucompetition! We're getting closer to the end! AAH!

[fandom-wreck-9000]

Welcome home my Darling new neighbor (Wally Darling x Male reader) Yandere Fic

CW: Scopophobia, stalking, and kidnapping.

Chapter 2: Welcome home

You slightly woke up your eyes still feeling heavy, so you didn’t try to open them, you felt as if you couldn't move your body maybe you were still tired, but you could still hear, and the only thing penetrating your ears was the eerie noise of a heartbeat and something breathing all around you… You could still slightly feel, although it was as if your sense of touch was numbed. The most you could make out from what little sense of touch you had was that you were laying in a bed with soft heavy covers. due to your mind still being fuzzy with sleep, you couldn’t remember much of what happened before this moment of waking up… all you could remember was being picked up and basically being kidnapped before this moment of sleepy paralysis. This all felt like some kind of nightmare more specifically a sleep paralysis nightmare.

You decided to try and put your mind back to sleep but before you could, you hear a door open and someone walking in closer to you… You had the familiar feeling of fear in your body although it couldn’t paralyze you any more than you already were, you heard them place something down next to you on a hard surface most likely a nightstand… You could slightly feel the slight weight shift of the bed as they sat down next to you, you could feel them staring it felt so familiar, they touched your face which sent a shiver down your spine… Who the fuck was this person? “(M/N) it's time to wake up.” Their voice spoke softly it seemed monotoned, and creepy yet soothing. it took some might but you eventually managed to open your eyes, and they widened in horror as you saw a puppet sitting before you staring straight into your eyes. As soon as you saw that familiar face all the memories came flooding back with a force, it gave you a headache… And made you even more dizzy and sick than you already were because of the fear you felt… It was Wally Darling…

You tried to sit up and hit him scream and get away, but you couldn’t now being more awake you could tell just how weird your body felt and how much more difficult it was to just move it, you could only do tiny movements like move your fingers, toes, and your head a little bit. “Now now just relax you’re still getting used to your new body friend.” He said that smile you first thought was adorable and cute now seemed absolutely horrifying, and your eyes traveled to look at your arms which your once (S/C) human skin, was now (S/C) colored felt… You could tell your face showed the pure fear and horror you felt for what Wally said next. “No need to be scared friend your in good hands you are safe with me within home.” You became confused what did he mean by ‘within home’? He didn’t answer that as he helped you sit up as your body was still hard to move, your eyes moved to the nightstand which was right by the bed. What was placed onto it by Wally was a tray with food and water, you had no idea how you would eat it since you were now a puppet with supposedly no digestive system.

He apparently saw you stare at the tray with confusion and he grabbed the cup of water and spoke. “You can still drink and kinda eat you just don’t really need to but since there are still some changes happening to your body and you're getting used to your new body, I thought you could use the extra energy boost. But soon you won’t need to eat or drink anymore!” he said bringing the glass of water to your felt lips and gently opening your mouth with his hand so you could ‘drink’ it when you drank some to your own surprise, he placed it back down on the tray. You had to admit it mentally since you couldn’t really vocally admit it and frankly didn’t want to, the water slightly helped you gain some energy. During this entire interaction Wally has not stopped staring at you the only time he looked away was when he went to grab the water and place it back down, it freaked you out how much he stared at you… Especially now since he’s kidnapped you… His eyes were like empty black voids as he intensely stared at you. You also still heard the sound of a beating heart and breathing, but you decided to try and ignore it as best you can, even though it was creepy… especially for the fact that it wasn’t coming from you or Wally…

Wally seemed to be staring into your eyes with the same intensity as the day before, it was unnerving… “I’m really glad your pretty (E/C) eyes stayed even after your form changed to accommodate my world… so very glad… your eyes and yourself are the absolute most after all…” He said in his soothing monotone voice as he continued to stare, you shifted the gaze of your eyes uncomfortably. “I have to go 'cause I have stuff to do today but just rest, Friend 'cause you need to be at your best… remember you are the absolute most.” He said he got up from the bed and he blew you a kiss before leaving the room and soon the house itself, now by yourself, you sat in the bed terrified and scared you gripped the sheets with the little strength you had… how did you get into this situation why you? You felt tears gather in your eyes somehow but you didn’t pay mind to it you just wanted out, you just wanted to get back home… you didn’t want to be here anymore…

After a few hours, you were finally able to move your arms and upper body so you turned to pick up the tray that was on the nightstand looking at the food itself… it seemed less than edible… it seemed to be an attempt at french toast, but the toast wasn’t fully cooked and it seemed that the egg that was on it was still raw, there was also bacon but that was burnt to nothing but charcoal… the only thing that seemed edible was the berries, so you decided to slowly eat those because as time passed… it started to feel like your stomach was being filled with stuffing… I guess he was right about the fact you soon wouldn’t need to be eating or drinking soon anymore… you placed the tray back on the nightstand and continued to sit on the bed, still not having the energy to move your legs…

A few more hours passed and you were finally able to move your legs, so you moved so you could try to stand up from the bed, as you did you heard the front door open. You quickly stood up of course as you did you felt dizzy and your legs felt like complete jello but you grabbed the lamp that was on the nightstand and stood your ground, the ominous steps toward the room you were in frightened you… Your grip on the lamp was relentless. You heard the house creak and squeak, the steps slowed down as they stopped in front of the door to the room you were in… The door started to slowly open so you started to rush forward but you underestimated how wobbly your legs were because not even two steps forward and you tripped over your own feet and dropped the lamp, before you fell face first you heard quick footsteps toward you, and someone caught you and you knew who it was exactly. Looking up you saw Wally his stare seemed kinda angry but he helped you up and hugged you tightly to him, his face resting on your shoulder he held you tightly so tightly that you could barely move your arms away from him… but you were still too weak to fully fight back against him.

“Friend it’s okay Stop being so scared and freaking out… you almost fell and hurt yourself there you still need some rest… Let's put you back in bed friend…” He said as he picked you up with ease and put you back into the bed, sitting next to you again, back to staring at you…

You were stuck here, weren’t you?

@morallygreyhound, @grungedemon, @orquydia, @Kodasstar, @itsawildsaltychip, @yippeeboi, @bombshellbella, @bloodblossomtree, @shaggy-carpet, @fake-it-25, @eddwardtheseventhspacewizard, @r4ggedy-andy, @random-theater-kid, @kayssweetdreams, @animedestler, @zeroplay-69, @n1mble, @salems-apiary, @magno-13, @lucialaotakuxd, @loveolgy, @fufawa, @penisbanger, @callmenobodythehoe, @dragonea, @funbugz, @vato-moo, @h0n3y-f1ll3d- g1ng3rbr3ad-man, @emohaircutstumblur, @puppetskulls, drc00l4tt4, @artistesimp, @hatmekindsirr, @sirenafterdark, @flwerdeath, @wxntcl, @emerald-dream, @lurkingposting, @syrupnscones, @gay-and-random-shit-i-can-find, @bread-samdwich, @tremendouskingcherryblossom. @floof-boop, @thewisteriarchives, @the-reaper-of-souls, @justaconfusedorganism, @theoats420, @fuck-bitches-get-milk, @looneytunestime, @aoniv, @mangle5, @lurkerintheabyss, @judos-tavern, @good-from-all-sides, @buttertoast432

[snowblack-charcoalwhite]

Could you do your own analysis abt what traits/behaviours Aegon and Aemond got from Alicent? They both took after her and it's insane

What a wonderful question! Thank you for it, and my apologies for the delay with answering - and for the direction the answer ended up taking (you might have meant some specific examples as opposed to the more general thing I`m about to offer).

I`d like to start with this:

It definitely doesn`t mean that I enjoy watching either of them suffer or wish torment upon them (especially given that Aegon and Aemond are my absolute faves and Alicent is among my top 5 HotD/F&B characters as well). What I do find fascinating is how all of them are enduring the pain: living it, transforming it and channelling it into the world with nothing but a look.

And I find just as interesting the way the mother and the sons express their feelings when their adversaries find themselves in a tight spot, in one way or another:

It`s definitely schadenfreude but one tinged with the sense of curiosity and slight disbelief, as in "Looks like you could have problems as well after all, huh?"

Сontinuing with this mother-children connection, it has to be said that Aegon and Aemond are absolutely self-sufficient characters with their own motivation and unique traits; but in some way they are also Alicent`s agents, the way she speaks with the world (just like in one sense or another sense all people are continuation of their parents - even if they never knew them its their absence that leaves an imprint on a person`s soul).

Aegon is the voice of her suffering.

(I`m all in for the theory according to which Aegon is a nail biter just as his mother is a nail picker - and these habits do not come from a happy place).

Aemond is the voice of her bitterness and rage.

It`s almost feels like emotion-wise Aegon resembles Alicent in static while Aemond represents her in dynamic.

And it`s heartbreaking to think that when both of them were dead Alicent once again had to lock all her pain and anger within herself - and those grew insurmountable over the course of the Dance and eventually drove her mad.

Additionally, it`s of interest to note that all three of them are driven by duty in one way or another - but they handle it differently.

Both Alicent and Aegon wear theirs like a royal chain around their neck (if S2 doesn`t show us Aegon embracing the burden of ruling, if only for the sake of his family, I`m ignoring it); but where Aegon doesn`t take his off because of being afraid something terrible will happen if he does, Alicent just can`t fathom doing it. This metaphorical chain has grown into her body and become an inalienable part of her.

And for Aemond duty is not a piece to wear but a weapon to wield. He is so aggressive about it (even if it`s passive aggression) that it almost feels like it`s a material object - and a quite sharp one, a worthy addition to the sword and the dagger.

I`m sorry if the answer`s turned out to be messy. I just have way too many feelings about this family:)

[aita-blorbos]

(Spoilers for Magnus Archives)

AITA for burning my childhood house down

Hello, Jon.

Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself.

I’m assuming you’re alone; you always did prefer to read your statements in private. (slightly strained) I wouldn’t try too hard to stop reading; there’s every likelihood you’ll just hurt yourself. So just listen.

Now, shall we turn the page and try again?

WIBTA for starting the apocalypse

I hope you’ll forgive me the self-indulgence, but I have worked so very hard for this moment, a culmination of two centuries of work. It’s rare that you get the chance to monologue through another, and you can’t tell me you’re not curious.

Why does a man seek to destroy the world?

It’s a simple enough answer: for immortality and power. Uninspired, perhaps, but – my god. The discovery, not simply of the dark and horrible reality of the world in which you live, but that you would quite willingly doom that world and confine the billions in it to an eternity of terror and suffering, all to ensure your own happiness, to place yourself beyond pain and death and fear.

It is an awful thing to know about yourself, but the freedom, Jon, the freedom of it all. I have dedicated my life to handing the world to these Dread Powers all for my own gain, and I feel… nothing but satisfaction in that choice.

I am to be a king of a ruined world, and I shall never die.

I believe there are far more people in this world that would take that bargain than you would ever guess. And I have beaten all of them.

Of course, this desire did not manifest overnight. When RS (87, M) first gathered our little band – L, S, and the rest – to discuss and hypothesize on the nature of the things he had learned from R, I felt what I believe we all felt: curiosity, and fear.

But as he compiled his taxonomy and codified his theories on the grand rituals, I began to develop a very specific concern. RS was so obsessed with his ideas on balance, even as our fellows began to experiment and fall to the service of our patrons.

I began to worry that if one of them successfully attempted their ritual, then I would be as much a victim as any, trapped in the nightmare landscape of a twisted world.

At first, I attempted prevention, but the cause seemed hopeless. The only way to ensure I did not suffer the tribulations of what I believed to be an inevitable transformation was to bring it about myself. So what began as an experiment soon became a race.

Beyond that, I was getting older, and mortality began to weigh more heavily on my mind. How much in this world is done because we fear death, the last and greatest terror?

I convinced RS to work on Millbank, leading him to design it as a temple to all the Fears in equilibrium, such that my own modifications to the design of the Panopticon went… unremarked.

It. Took. Years. for the dread of the prisoners to fully suffuse the place, and I was an old man before I made my first attempt at the Watcher’s Crown, sat in the center of that colossal eye, the great ring of cells encircling me like a coronet.

It was… flawed, of course, as all RS’s rituals were, and none of the inmates survived as the power I attempted to harness shook the building almost to pieces, and the murky swamp upon which the prison was built consumed it.

But it left me a gift: For sat in that watchtower, I could see everything I turned my mind to.

It was a dizzying power, and one I discovered I maintained even as I found vessels to extend my life. Of course, I had to make sure the location was kept under my control while I worked on revising my plans, and so I moved the organization I had founded to assist in my research down to London, and the Institute as you know it was born.

I’ll not bore you with details of my bodies and failures through those intervening years. Suffice to say I kept busy, both planning my own next attempt, and doing my best to stymie those others who tried versions of their own.

Surely my interpretation of the Watcher’s Crown had been incomplete; there had been some element of the ritual I had overlooked.

It was not until I met G (70, F) that things began to really come into focus.

You see, the role of Archivist has been part of the Beholding for as far back as my research can go. This isn’t uncommon for the Powers; most of the beliefs around them are guesswork and fallible human interpretation, but there are certain throughlines and consistencies that can be spotted, regardless of the trappings.

But G was unlike any other Archivist. She simply did not care about compiling experiences or collecting the fears of others. She was driven to stop those who served the Powers.

More than once I thought she must secretly be of the Hunt – but there was never that sick joy in her, that thrill of predator and prey. She had simply decided that this was her position in life, and went about it with a practicality that even I found disconcerting at times.

I once asked her what drove her, what had started her down that path. She told me the Desolation had killed her cat.

I don’t know if she was joking, and, to be honest, I could never bring myself to look into her mind and find out for sure.

In any case, G’s ruthless efficiency in derailing and collapsing rituals threw into stark relief a question that had been bothering me for almost a hundred and fifty years: In the whole span of humanity, why had nobody ever succeeded?

Perhaps there were a long line of G throughout history, but I found that hard to credit. Could it be, then, that there was something in the very concept of the rituals that meant they couldn’t succeed?

She was clearly having similar thoughts in that last year, all of which culminated with the People’s Church.

When I saw that she was making no preparations whatsoever to stop it, I realized she was putting into practice a theory, and one she couldn’t afford to be wrong. She was going to wait, and see if the unopposed ritual succeeded, or if it collapsed under its own strain as mine had all those years ago.

Knowing G, I’m sure she had a backup plan if she had miscalculated – but she had not. The ritual failed. And all at once, I realized what had to be done.

You see, the thing about the Fears is that they can never be truly separated from each other. When does the fear of sudden violence transition into the fear of hunted prey? When does the mask of the Stranger become the deception of the Spiral?

Even those that seem to exist in direct opposition rely on each other for their definition as much as up relies on down.

To try and create a world with only the Buried makes as much sense as trying to conceive a world with only down.

Every ritual tied itself so closely to a single power as to render itself impossible. They could bring their patron close, but never sever it from the others, and eventually it would be violently pulled back into the place next to reality where they dwell.

The solution, then, is simple: A new ritual must be devised which will bring through all the Powers at once. All fourteen, as I had hoped I could complete it before any new powers such as Extinction were able to fully emerge. All under the Eye’s auspices, of course. We mustn’t forget our roots.

And there was only one being that could possibly serve as a lynchpin for this new ritual: The Archivist. A position that had so recently become vacant, thanks to G’s ill-timed retirement plans.

Because the thing about the Archivist is that – well, it’s a bit of a misnomer.

It might, perhaps, be better named: The Archive.

Because you do not administer and preserve the records of fear, Jon. You are a record of fear, both in mind as you walk the shuddering record of each statement, and in body as the Powers each leave their mark upon you.

You are a living chronicle of terror.

Perhaps, then, if I could find an Archivist and have each Power mark them, have them confront each one and each in turn instill in them a powerful and acute fear for their life, they could be turned into a conduit for the coming of this – nightmare kingdom.

Do you see where I’m going, Jon?

It does tickle me, that in this world of would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the Chosen One is simply that – someone I chose. It’s not in your blood, or your soul, or your destiny. It’s just in your own, rotten luck.

I’ll admit, my options were somewhat limited, but My God, when you came to me already marked by the Web, I knew it had to be you. I even held out some small hope you had been sent by the Spider as some sort of implicit blessing on the whole project, and, do you know what, I think it was.

Of course, I had to bide my time, get a measure of you before I began to push, learn how you worked – So I decided I would wait until something came for you, and see how you reacted. Attacks upon the Archives were not uncommon during G’s tenure, and, while she was always prepared, I made sure you would not be.

I reasoned if you couldn’t survive a single encounter, you were unlikely to make it through all fourteen. So, when JP attacked, I watched eagerly, one hand on the gas release from the start.

You acquitted yourself well enough, so I decided to see how far you would get, though I waited until the worms were in you before I pulled the lever. I needed to make sure you felt that fear all the way to your bones.

The discovery that one of the Stranger’s minions had infiltrated the Institute in the aftermath was certainly a pleasant bonus. Even if that sliver of paranoia, that vague wrongness you couldn’t quite place wouldn’t count as a mark, it was only a matter of time before it confronted you in a far more direct and affecting matter.

Admittedly, given the advent of the Unknowing, I needn’t have bothered. But what’s the old saying about hindsight?

More important to me was Sasha’s encounter with the Distortion. If it had taken an interest, then I very much wanted it to cross your path.

So I found one of its current victims and convinced her to make a statement.

Poor H (~20, F). I actually had to put her in a taxi myself, she was getting so lost in those narrow London side streets.

It worked, though.

Between the stabbing and at least two desperate flights into its doors – you’re marked very deeply by the Spiral.

JL (~70, M) was a surprise, of course, and I was forced to improvise. I had no idea how much G would have told him, and he could very easily have derailed everything if you learned too much too fast.

I justified it to myself saying I was going to have to send you out into the world anyway, if you were to encounter more of the Powers, but I can’t honestly pretend it wasn’t a… rather rash move.

Still. I’d requested Detective T (~25, F) be assigned to the case when they found G’s body in the hope that having a Hunter in the mix would eventually lead to a confrontation, and setting you up as a killer certainly hastened that.

Then it was just a matter of feeding you statements to lead you to a few Avatars I thought were likely to harm you – but probably would stop short of actually killing you.

J (27, F) served her purpose exactly as I had hoped, as did our dearly departed Mr. C, marking you for the Desolation and the Vast.

Honestly, I had – nothing to do with M (23, F) and her Slaughter adventure, but when I saw the situation, I made sure to trap her here, so when her rage bubbled over you would be right there, a ready target.

I didn’t foresee the mark coming from surgery gone wrong, but it was a very pleasant surprise.

The Unknowing was a distraction, but not an unwelcome one. For this to work, you needed more than just the marks; you needed power. And that was something the Unknowing served to test, though it posed no actual danger in the grand scheme of things.

And it did serve another purpose, of course. It inadvertently pushed you to confront death, a mark I had been very worried about trying to orchestrate. If I tried too early, you’d just die. Too late, and you might be powerful enough to see the attempt coming, and maybe even understand why.

As it was, it was just right, and once again, you came through with flying colors.

By this point, your abilities were coming along in leaps and bounds, and I was concerned that meeting face-to-face might end up with you – (sigh) – Knowing something you shouldn’t.

I had initially planned to go into hiding, but when your colleagues surprised me with the police, well. It was simple enough to cut a deal.

All that remained, then, were the Dark, the Flesh, the Buried, and the Lonely.

I was a little put out when that idiot JH (???, M) misinterpreted my letters and attacked the Institute too soon, before you were even out of the hospital, but then – Ho, you should have see my face when you voluntarily went to him.

I couldn’t see what happened in there, of course, but given how you came out, I’m very sure it counts as a mark.

I suspected the coffin might turn up again, and once it did, it was simply a matter of getting any, uh… restraining factors you might have had flying off on a wild goose chase, and waiting.

Honestly, Detective T has been proving invaluable through this process. I’d been racking my brains for months about what I could use to lure you in.

And, of course, I knew the Dark Sun was just sitting there waiting. So when it came time, I just whipped up another apocalypse and sent you on your merry way.

Then all that remained was the Lonely.

Poor P (~50, M). He really should have left well enough alone. Or just done what I’d asked in the first place.

Ah well. He knew what I was attempting, and was very unwilling to cooperate until I made him a little wager about M (same age as you, Jon, M).

Of course, he had no way of knowing that, in addition to setting you up for the final mark, he was giving you all the tools you needed to escape from it.

How is M, by the way? He looks well. You will keep an eye on him when all this is over, won’t you? He’s earned that.

And there, I think, we are brought just about up to date. I have enjoyed our little trip down memory lane, but past here lies only impatience.

You are prepared. You are ready. You are marked. The power of the Ceaseless Watcher flows through you, and the time of our victory is here.

Don’t worry, Jon. You’ll get used to it here, in the world that we have made.

Now. Repeat after me.

You who watch and know and understand none. You who listen and hear and will not comprehend. You who wait and wait and drink in all that is not yours by right.

Come to us in your wholeness.

Come to us in your perfection.

Bring all that is fear and all that is terror and all that is the awful dread that crawls and chokes and blinds and falls and twists and leaves and hides and weaves and burns and hunts and rips and bleeds and dies!

Come to us.

I – OPEN – THE DOOR!

[s1llysmut]

Can we get Velvette for the nsfw alphabet?

NSFW alphabet for Velvette

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Honestly she immediately passes out. It’s really cute when you lay beside her though because she subconsciously cuddles into you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Her favourite body part on herself is her hair if that counts. She loves expressing herself with it. On you her favourite body part is your ass, no matter your gender.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

She’s a squirter.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

She doesn’t really have any secrets from you. Well maybe the fact she’s designing lingerie specifically for you as a surprise.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

She knows a thing or two. She knows the basics. Besides, if she ever needs advice she just asks Valentino.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

She rides you. Or if you’re the one getting fucked it’s from behind.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

She’s a little goofy. More so attitude than silliness.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s the same colour/s as her hair. She doesn’t shave but she keeps it trimmed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Not very romantic. She’s more kinky with sex than romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

She uses all sorts of toys. She gets free ones from Valentino all the time.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

She likes being tied up and also tying you up. She likes being put in her place but also putting you in your place. She’s sadistic but also a masochist. She’s a switch if you couldn’t tell.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere she wants. She’s a lady who gets what she wants.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

If you’re in clothes that look really good on you. She’s a woman with fashion.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

She won’t involve anyone else in the bedroom. She’s way too protective of you for that shit.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

She prefers receiving. She loves to ride your face and tug at your hair.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

She has a need for speed.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

She’s a busy woman of course there’s gonna be quickies sometimes!

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes she’s game to take risks. Anything she finds interesting at least.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Around 3 or 4 rounds.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

She has tons of toys from Valentino. She uses them on herself and you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A LOT of teasing. She’s a brat.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

She’s loud like really loud. She’s got nothing to be ashamed of in her opinion.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

She will make you taste your own cum.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Small tits and a medium sized ass.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Every few days.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Immediately. Literally immediately.

[hugmekenobi]

S3: The Bad Batch (8)

Chapter Eight: Bad Territory

Gif by @rebekadjarin

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.

Chapter Summary: The group is divided, each side with a mission of their own to follow

Masterlist for S1 and S2

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, swearing, angst, fluff, limited (y/n), Crosshair feeling left out, me making up how the Force can work/be used, more dancing around M-count things, and me making up a rough timeline

Word Count: 5.2K

Author's notes: Not gonna lie, I struggled a lot with this one for a variety of reasons but I hope people still like it! Thank you @burningfieldof-clover for your much needed and valued assistance during this!

Pabu

Omega sat on the steps of the Marauder anxiously tapping her boot as she stared at her commlink.

“You know staring at your comm won’t make Echo contact you any faster.” Crosshair told her as he approached.

Omega got to her feet with a sigh. “He and Rex lost most of their squad in that attack. All because the Empire was after me and (Y/N). I have to do something to help them.”

“You are. Follow (Y/N)’s example and keep staying away.” Crosshair said.

“Wow, I’ve never been used as a positive example before.”

Omega turned to see you and Hunter standing in the doorway of the Marauder.

“Crosshair’s right. We need to know more about why Hemlock’s after you and what his M-count experiments mean.” Hunter added. “Until then, you both have to lay low.” He said with a firm look at the two of you.

Hey, Omega is the priority here, not me.

“Don’t start with that.” Hunter chastised. “It’s a high chance that Hemlock being after Omega means he’s after you too, especially if M-counts are involved somehow.”

We don’t know that he’s after me specifically, I’ve always just had issues with any Imperial official. I’m more of a general Imperial threat. Me getting captured, I could wind up anywhere.

“That’s a very reassuring thought, thank you.” Hunter muttered sarcastically.

Besides, even when I handed myself in, I wasn’t sent to Tantiss so I might not even be on his radar since he seems to be looking for clones and not Jedi to test on. Omega is the one we know for sure that Hemlock is after.

“Hey! Incoming transmission. From Phee!” Wrecker came to tell the rest of you.

To be continued. You placed a chaste and pacifying kiss to his lips before you headed towards the cockpit.

“No, not to be continued, you’re laying low the same way Omega is!” Hunter called to your retreating figure before he too headed back in.

“They were arguing, and I didn’t hear a single word she said?” Crosshair as the two of you walked back inside.

“Hmm?” Omega stopped patting Batcher and then understood his question. “Oh that! You mean she hasn’t tried it with you yet?” Omega asked curiously. She’d honestly barely noticed the interaction; she was so used to moments like that now.

“Tried what?” Crosshair asked.

“It’s a Jedi communication thing.” Omega tried to explain but that was really all she could provide. “I don’t quite understand how it works but she does it with the rest of us. I’m sure if you asked her, she’d be able to do it to you too.”

“Right.” Crosshair said hesitantly, unsure as to what he could’ve done to make you think you couldn’t trust him with that. But he pushed that to the back of his mind for now before inquiring, “And Phee?”

“She’s a liberator of ancient wonders.” Omega said with an appropriate amount of showmanship.

Crosshair just stared at her unamused and not playing into the mystery she was trying to create.

“Pirate. She’s a pirate.” Omega admitted with a sigh.

How you lot had managed to make allies with a pirate was something he found himself wishing he’d been there to witness.

--

Wrecker put the transmission through.

“Hey Phee.” Omega said warmly.

“Hey kid.” Phee replied.

“What do you got for us?” Hunter asked.

“I’ve been asking around about this M-count thing, which hasn’t been easy, by the way. Tech’s brain was the data bank, not mine.”

The grief you were in constant battle with asked for another way in, but you let is wash over you as Phee continued to speak.

“But I came through. As always.”

“And what did you find out?” You asked.

“Word is, certain class one bounty hunters have been retrieving M-count target for the Empire.”

Again, you ruminated in your thoughts over this. Omega couldn’t have a high M-count, not in the way the Empire seemed to want, you’d know if she did. And it was all to do with clones, so it had to be something about their DNA specifically. “A high M-count signifies Force user potential. But that’s not got anything to do with you.” You added hastily as you saw Omega’s look of excitement. “So, why else would they need her if she has one?” You asked Phee.

“Don’t know. You’re better off asking a bounty hunter.” Phee replied.

“We have run into a few.” Hunter revealed.

“What about Fennec?” Omega suggested.

“Who?” Crosshair asked.

“Fennec Shand.” You said, your feelings about her made very clear by the distaste in your voice. “She was hired by Kaminoans to abduct Omega. Tried to pick me up along the way.”

“She might know something.” Omega said.

“She’s dangerous, but it might be our only option.” Hunter agreed and she definitely a better option compared to Cad Bane.

“I can probably track Fennec down for you.” Phee said. “But she’s not gonna hand over that information for free.”

“Naturally.” You and Crosshair said in the same wry tone.

But as he said that you, Hunter, and Omega noticed the way his hand began to tremor despite Crosshair’s efforts to stop and hide it.

“I gotta split. I’ll get back to you.” With that, Phee ended the transmission.

“Yeah, I don’t like it.” Wrecker said nervously to Hunter. “We can’t trust Fennec. Not around those two.”

“Agreed. You and I will go alone.”

“But-” Omega protested.

“Hold on-” You began to argue.

“This isn’t a debate.” Hunter said definitively. “Stay on Pabu and stay out of trouble. All of you.” He said to the three of you.

“Fine by me.” Crosshair drawled before he left the ship.

Hunter addressed the two of you once he’d gone, concern in his voice. “See if you can convince him to get his hand looked at. Ignoring it won’t make the problem go away.”

--

You walked back to the ship as you saw Hunter and Wrecker getting ready to depart.

“I already told you no.” Hunter said as you stood on the bottom of the door staircase.

“Hunter-”

“You and Fennec have a score to settle and I’m not going to tempt her with it. What we need to know is more important than that.”

“I know that but she’s dangerous and I don’t see how having someone else there to help would be such a bad idea.” You disputed.

Hunter went for another tact, “Did you hear Phee say the phrase ‘high M-count targets?’ ”

You ground out a sigh, “Yes.”

“And don’t you have one?”

“Yes, but I-”

“Did you hear that bounty hunters are being used to retrieve them?”

You shot him an exasperated look. “Yes.”

“Do you see where I’m going with this?”

You exhaled a defeated breath. “Yes.” You begrudgingly acknowledged.

“Good.” He came down a couple steps and placed both hands on your shoulders as he kissed your forehead. “We’ll be careful.”

“Yeah, you better.” You threatened but with a caring smile on your face. “I’ll see you soon.” You hopped off the stairs and watched the ship take off.

--

You rejoined Omega and Crosshair who were standing by the Wheeping Maya tree. “Sooo, what do we want to do today? Walk around, go for a boat ride, chill by the beach and talk about our feelings?” You broached casually. You couldn’t get away with making him sit down and push him into doing something about his hand- Omega had the better shot of using an approach like that. What you were doing fit the rhythm you and Crosshair had before everything in the galaxy went to shit.  

Crosshair ignored your suggestions. “You can help me train.” He said as he grabbed his rifle.

Omega glanced up at you to see if you wanted to say anything yet, but you only shook your head as you both followed him down to the beach cove.

--

“How’d you want to handle this?” Omega asked as Crosshair started prepping his scope.

I’ll open the door for you. Give us a few minutes.

--

“Target practice or hand-to-hand?” You asked as you reached him.

“Target.” Crosshair with a hard stare at you, warning you against any further unrelated conversation.

“I’m here to help as you requested.” You raised your hands in surrender, “I only ask because the most recent time you tried hand-to-hand; you got your ass handed to you.” You taunted as you made your way to your position and removing your lightsaber from your belt. “Now remember, the goal is to aim for me which finding the motivation for shouldn’t be too difficult.” Omega, when you hear the blaster fire stop, you’re up.

You weren’t facing him when you sensed the shot that was being aimed for the middle of your back. You ignited your lightsaber and blocked it on the half turn. “Hey, that was good!” You called back. “More like that and I might actually have to try!” You got into your stance and waited.

Crosshair heaved a sigh as he set himself again.

--

You disengaged your blade to signal that it was time to stop, and you lightly jogged over to where Crosshair was waiting. “Twenty shots, but only eleven I had to actually dodge or block… you really gotta sort that out, it’s not like you.”

Crosshair glared at you, “I forgot how annoying you were to train with.”

“Oh, I’m just the warmup.” You said with a knowing grin. “She’s the real challenge.” You nodded past his shoulder.

Crosshair followed your eyes, and he gulped as he saw Omega walking towards with gritty determination on her face. He already knew exactly how this was going to go.

--

Finding Fennec Shand hadn’t been very difficult, the hardest part now was getting her help without giving too much away.

“So, what kind of information can I help you with?” She asked, relaxing into the booth but she saw the wary look the two clones shared with each other. “See, the way this works is you tell me what intel or target you’re after, and I give you a price. So stop wasting my time.”

“We hear the Empire has a bounty out for M-count targets.” Hunter replied tentatively.

Fennec adjusted her posture. “Why do you wanna know about that? You trying to find your girl?” She looked at the helmeted clone who visibly tensed at her words. She sipped her drink. “She’s been quite the busy Jedi, nice price on her head too.”

“The why is our business.” Hunter said stiffly.

Fennec let the evasion slide and shrugged as she lounged back once more. “I haven’t done one of those jobs myself, but… I might know someone who has.”

“Can you put us in touch with them?” Hunter requested.

“Now that will definitely cost you.”

“How much?”

“More than you’ve got. But we might be able to work something out.” She took another gulp of her drink. “I’ve read your files from before.” She addressed the bigger clone, “You’re good with demolitions and ordnance, right?”

“Ha! ‘Good’? I’m the best.” Wrecker boasted proudly.

“And you’re the tracker.” Fennec said to the other one.

“What’s your point?” Hunter questioned warily.

“There’s a bounty I’ve been trying to bring in. Worth a lot. But he’s been hard to catch without a crew.”

“Oh, so you want us to work with you?” Wrecker sussed out.

“No. You’ll be working for me.” Fennec corrected. “You follow through, I’ll get you what you want to know.”

Hunter barely debated the situation in his head. Getting the information was all that mattered. “Deal.”

Fennec nodded and grabbed her stuff. “We’ll use my ship. And so we’re clear… I keep the payment on the bounty. All of it.”

--

Omega sat next to Crosshair whilst you crouched by Batcher’s side, absentmindedly petting the hound as AZ finished scanning Crosshair’s hand.

“How does your hand feel now?” AZ inquired.

“The same.” Crosshair grunted dejectedly as he massaged it with his good hand.

“Unfortunately, it may never heal 100%.”

“There’s nothing else you can do?” Omega appealed.

“I have exhausted all the medical treatment options. Perhaps the issue is not something physical.” AZ theorised.

“You think it’s in my head?” Crosshair hissed angrily.

“If you were to elaborate more on the experimentation you were subjected to, I could determine the cause.”

“Forget it.” Crosshair snapped as he shoved past the droid.

You jumped to your feet attempted to catch his arm, but he shrugged you off.

“Crosshair?” Omega called out to him as he left but he didn’t look back.

“If he won’t talk about it, I’m not sure how else we can help him.” You pondered anxiously.

“I have another idea.” Omega said. “But you need to be there too.”

--

“We’re working for her now? We don’t even trust her.” Wrecker whispered as he and Hunter stood in the back of Fennec’s ship. It wasn’t like Hunter to not think through the dangers of taking a job like this on.

“What choice do we have? We need that information. Just be ready for anything.” As soon as Hunter said that the door slid open, and Fennec appeared.

“We made a deal. I’m going to keep it as long as you hold up your end.” Fennec reminded the clones.

“Wanna tell us who it is we’re going after?” Hunter asked.

Fennec brought out the puck and activated the image. “Sylar Saris. ‘The Slayer od Ordo Eris’. One of the slipperiest marks around. Got a tip on his location.”

“Well, what did he do?” Wrecker asked.

“Hmm. Got greedy. Took out a couple top bosses for the Haxion Brood and escaped with a cache of credits. Powerful people want him found. The other hunters that went after him? Never came back.” She waited half a second before continuing, “Sylar knows the planet like the back of his claw. But eventually, everyone’s luck runs out.” Fennec turned off the puck as she finished the brief and retreated to the pilot seat.

--

You watched the line of fruit on the rock ahead as Crosshair raised his rifle, but his hand was still trembling, so his shot skimmed the top of the fruit he had been aiming for. You had thought a degree of normalcy was what he needed but now it was time for both you and Omega to push him- even a little bit. “That was close.” You said encouragingly.

“Close doesn’t count. It’s either a hit or miss.” Crosshair replied sharply.

“You’re still more capable than most.” Omega said with a soothing touch of his arm.

Crosshair only sighed and sat with his back against the rock. “That’s not good enough for a sniper.”

You and Omega both hopped up on the rock.

“Have you ever considered that AZ might be right?” You proposed slowly, your voice kind and gentle. You knew how hard accepting help with something like this could be and it couldn’t be rushed into.

“Whatever they did to you on Tantiss could’ve affected you more than you realise.” Omega backed up the suggestion in a similar tone.

“No. No, no. It’s not in my head.” Crosshair disagreed.

“Just because there’s nothing AZ can do, doesn’t mean your hand can’t get better.” Omega said as she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe you’re the one who has to fix it.”

Crosshair considered it. “How?”

“I’m glad you asked.”

Crosshair glanced over at you to see a familiar scheming smile on your face but there was a kindness to your eyes that told him you weren’t messing around with this. “I’m not gonna like it, am I?”

You and Omega shared a smile, “You don’t like anything.” You two said in unison as you left the rock.

“True.” Crosshair conceded with a sigh as he got to his feet.

--

The light was all but gone and between the toxic swamp air, the mines in the river, and the gators that attacked them, it had already been a trying journey and things weren’t getting much better since Hunter couldn’t get a proper read on the current anymore.

“Well, tracker? Which direction?” Fennec asked as she slowly steered the hired boat.

“The currents are too calm to tell.” Hunter admitted reluctantly.

“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you guys aren’t cut out for this job.” She said irritably.

“Oh. You think you could do better without us?” Wrecker challenged.

“I wouldn’t be doing any worse.”

“Well, (Y/N) got the best of you and even Omega managed to get away.”

“Apparently, they both got away from you too.” She watched as that clearly hit a mark with both of them. “So what happened? I know what your girl’s been up to, tracker, but what went down for her to get to that? And how’d you lose the kid?”

“What’s it to you?” Hunter deflected coldly as he pulled out his macro’s and searched ahead for any sign of Sylar’s safehouse.

“Just seems odd. You’re both willing to work for me, considering our past. That information must really be important to you.”

Hunter said nothing. He feared that anything he would say would give something more away.

“And just so you know, I didn’t lose Omega. I let her go when the bounty was called off.” Fennec informed them.

“By who?” Hunter asked, turning to look at her.

“The client. They thought Omega would be safer with you guys. Guess they were wrong about that.” She glanced between them both. “And your Jedi wasn’t worth the trouble since there wasn’t a set bounty on her at the time. Though, if I saw her again, with the price on her head that might change.” Fennec couldn’t help but goad. She scoffed as she saw the helmeted glare from the tracker.

“I guess you’ll work for anybody as long as you get paid.” Wrecker said with a hint of disgust.

“Good guys, bad guys. Their money is all the same.” Fennec said breezily.

“Well, money’s not everything.” Hunter said.

“That’s cause you don’t have any.”

Hunter couldn’t respond to that because there was nothing to argue against. He simply brought his binoculars back and scanned the water. “Someone came through here. Veer starboard up ahead.”

--

‘Slippery mark’ had been right. They’d been able to find his hideout but actually subduing Sylar had proven a far more difficult feat than anticipated.

In the end, it had taken a team effort from the three of them to knock out the insectoid and even then, it had taken four stun blasts to successfully managed it.

Wrecker released a breathless groan as he stepped over the target. “You were right to bring us along.”

“I’m always right. Grab him and let’s go.” Fennec instructed.

--

“If this is a Jedi technique, how is this going to help me?” Crosshair asked dubiously as he saw you and Omega sit cross-legged with your hands on your knees on a rock facing out to the sea, the orange sunset giving the water a warm purple hue.

“One, it’s not solely a Jedi technique because, as you can see, Omega does it.” You pointed out.

“But-”

“Two, I’m also out of practice so we can both learn together. Come and sit down.” You encouraged, patting the space between you and Omega.

Crosshair reluctantly mirrored both your positions. “So, this technique…”

“Mediation.” Omega reminded him. “It’ll help you heal. Not just your hand, but your mind too.”

“I doubt that.” Crosshair tried to follow the example of you two, but he couldn’t quiet his mind and his hand had started to shake again. He inhaled sharply as he felt Omega take a hold of it and turn it so that his palm was facing up.

You closed your own eyes and spoke calmly. “You need to breathe. Take slow, deep breaths and find your centre. Focus on yourself and what you’re feeling and accept it. Let it pass through you and don’t run away from it.” You guided him as you followed your own advice and found yourself becoming one with the living Force around you.

“And don’t compare yourself to her. It works slightly differently.” Omega told him.

Crosshair glanced at you from the corner of his eye to already see that you were completely at peace, and it looked like nothing could ever bring you out of it. “Where did you learn this? Did she teach you?” He asked Omega.

Omega kept her eyes shut as she replied, “No, she hadn’t done it until after I picked it up from my friend Gungi, and the other Wookies on Kashyyyk. But she helped me with it thereafter. I think she needed that moment again too.”

“You’ve been to Kashyyyk?”

“Uh huh.” Omega took another deep inhale and exhale. “You’ve missed a lot.”

“I know.” Crosshair realised.

“Now, close your eyes and focus.” Omega repeated.

Crosshair did as you both suggested and let go.

--

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Fennec said as the clone departed her ship.

“Hang on.” Hunter turned on his heels. “You promised us information.”

“I didn’t say I had it on me, but I’ll get it. Ater I deliver Sylar to my client.”

“That’s not what we agreed on.” Hunter growled.

“You can either fight me or trust me. Take your pick.”

Hunter shared a look with Wrecker but decided it wasn’t worth the risk.

“Good choice.” Fennec before she stepped into her ship and brought the ramp up.

Hunter and Wrecker could only watch her ship leave the station hangar. Having to trust the word of a bounty hunter was not the ideal situation they wanted to be or leave in.

--

Fennec put through the transmission and addressed the hologram.“I just finished a job with some clones. They were asking about the Empire’s M-count bounties. What can you tell me?” She digested the muffled chatter that came in response. “I’m sure you can find them easily enough. I’ll send you what I have.”

--

“(Y/N)? (Y/N), we’ve finished.” Omega shook your shoulder. “Come back.”

You jolted back to the current moment. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine. Just wanted to tell you that Wrecker and Hunter are back.” Omega said as she stood back up. “How was it this time?” She asked you.

You exhaled deeply. “Better but I could still feel my focus drifting more than it used to.” Plus, no matter how often you trained in it, you had never gotten to see your master again and you were beginning to think it had been a one-time deal. If what you needed to talk to him again was to reach a certain level of emotional turmoil, you wouldn’t want to get to that place again. “How was it for you?”

“It was good.” She replied cheerily before she set off to meet up with Hunter and Wrecker, Batcher close at her heels.

“How’d it go?” You asked Crosshair as you got to your feet.

“Eh, I still don’t get it.” Crosshair grunted in reply.

You smiled understandingly at him. “It gets easier.”

“I know, I’ll keep trying.” He took a step in the direction Omega had gone but your voice stopped him.

“I’m not talking about the meditation.” You said softly as you grabbed his shoulder to turn him to face you. “I’m talking about dealing with whatever it was that happened to you.”

Crosshair cast his eyes to the ground. “I can’t tal-”

“Believe me, I understand how hard it can be to recount experiences like that, so I don’t expect you to, not any time soon. The second you wanted to; I would be there but that’s not what I’m saying right now.” You reassured him.

Crosshair regarded you carefully. “Then- then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that whatever you’re feeling, whatever memories in your head that are so fresh it feels like they’ll haunt you forever, it’s okay to feel them. And, while they may never go away entirely, it does get easier.” You looked at him with warm sincerity. “Just don’t bury them because that’s when they’ll eat you alive.”

Crosshair’s eyes widened slightly at your words as he recognised the place you were coming from, and he was grateful for them.

“Or not dealing with them can lead to reckless and damaging decisions that get your face slapped on every Imperial noticeboard across the Outer Rim. Take your pick.” You joked to lighten the mood again.

Crosshair managed a smile at that.

You patted his shoulder. “I meant what I said though, it gets better. We’re all here for you.” You started to walk away to see Hunter and Wrecker to find out what information they got from Fennec.

“Omega mentioned a Jedi communication thing you do?” Crosshair said to your back.

“Yeah, I do it with all of them.” You called back over your shoulder.

“All?”

“Uh huh.” You said casually before you stopped in your tracks as you realised what he was getting at. You swivelled around again, “Oh! Yeah! I can do that to you whenever you want!”

“But you haven’t.” Crosshair countered as he walked over to you.

You shrugged. “You said you needed time to adjust, and I didn’t want to freak you out.” You replied simply. “I wasn’t conspiring to keep it from you, I just didn’t want to assume anything.”

“If you still don’t trust me, I-”

You rolled your eyes. “Would you shut up; I just said it was because I thought you needed more time. Do you want me to do it with you too?”

Crosshair shifted on his feet. He didn’t like the position he suddenly found himself in, it felt rather pathetic.

“It’s a simple yes or no, come on, we have places to be.”

“I’m sure Hunter can last ten minutes without your mouth attached to his.”

“Okay, see now you’re just pissing me off.” You tossed your hands in the air and went to turn away.

“Yes.” Crosshair grumbled. He’d already missed out on so much and he didn’t want this to be yet another thing.

“That wasn’t too hard, was it?” You drolled. “Give me your hands.”

“Why?” Crosshair asked suspiciously.

“Because I’m actually in love with you.” You jibed flatly as you shot him a look of exasperation.

Crosshair rolled his eyes at you. “Gross.”

“Sometimes it helps when it’s a first connection, especially when I haven’t been around someone for quite a while.”  You explained. You held yours out and waited expectantly.

Crosshair hesitantly complied- both hands steady this time- and watched you intriguingly.

“Fair warning, it can feel a bit weird.” You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You reached into his Force signature, and it was what you expected. It was barbed and you could feel a resistance- a wall- to it. But there was also vulnerability, a longing for growth and acceptance, that wanted to let you in and that was what you appealed to. When you felt that the connection was there, you opened your eyes and looked at him. Now, can we go see your brothers please?

“Okay, that’s really fucking weird.” Crosshair said as you let go of his hands.

Hey, you asked. You grinned at him before the two of you officially set off to go meet the ship.

--

One week later

“Any word?” Omega asked as she and Crosshair stepped into the Marauder. They’d been mediating by the Maya tree and decided to come check in. The news that Fennec didn’t have any immediate information to offer had been disappointing and each day that went by without any communication only let that disappointment grow.

“Nothing.” Wrecker groused.

“Fennec never told us how long she’d take.” Hunter admitted before he noticed you weren’t with them. “Where’s-”

“Don’t know. We thought she was with you.” Crosshair said as he placed a toothpick in his mouth.

“You’ve not seen her all day?” Hunter double-checked. He’d seen you when you’d woken up but then you’d left, and he and Wrecker had been on the ship for most of the day.

“No, we haven’t. Batcher must be with her too.” Omega guessed since the hound hadn’t been with them and wasn’t anywhere on the ship.

Hunter mulled this over in his head. This isolation you were now putting yourself in since you’d heard the news about Fennec’s lack of information was beginning to become a real habit.

“Three seconds. That’s all it took for you to decide to go find her.” Crosshair teased, earning a snicker from Wrecker in the process.

“Shut up.” Hunter mumbled as he left the ship.

--

You had been aimlessly wandering the shoreline, occasionally chucking a stick Batcher had found for her to chase.

The Empire,

Omega,

M-count,

Jedi,

Clones,

The Empire,

Omega,

M-count,

Jedi,

Clones…

You ran that list over and over again in your head but couldn’t see the connection. The Jedi were dead and hated by the Empire- what could they need that M-count for? Omega wasn’t Force sensitive and neither were any other clones but that was Hemlock’s main test subject choice. So, what was it about an M-count in clone genetics that mattered so much? What were you overlooking? A demanding bark pulled you out your thoughts and you saw Batcher had dropped the stick at your feet and was waiting expectantly.

“Tell me, Batcher, what am I missing?” You crouched down and held the sides of her face in your palms and smiled at the hound. “Tell me, girl!” You laughed as she let out an affectionate whine and licked your cheek.

“You know, it might help to share your theories with someone who can actually talk back?”

“Uh oh, the tracker found me.” You said as you scratched her jaw before you glanced past her with an affectionate look to the clone walking towards you. “And how’d do you know she doesn’t?” You disputed light-heartedly as you stood up taller.

“You’re right, I don’t.” Hunter played into the joke as he reached you before he turned more serious. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

“Nothing.” You said dismissively.

Hunter just stared at you with a knowing look on his face. “Don’t do that, don’t shut me out. You’re not keeping to yourself for no reason.”

You remembered your own advice to Crosshair and swallowed tightly. “It’s right in front of my face, Hunter. I should know why this M-count matters for Omega but it’s not clicking and it’s driving me insane!” You rubbed a hand across your tired face. “I don’t know what I’m not seeing.” You confessed as you hung your head with a defeated breath.

Hunter placed his hands on your upper arms and brought his eyes to your level. “If it were obvious, we’d know it already.” He said as he rubbed his thumbs comfortingly up and down your arms. “You don’t need to keep working through this alone.”

“I just feel so useless. I should be able to figure this out!” You said with a frustrated huff.

“I know, it’s hard to just wait it out, but Fennec will come through. Until then, we just have to be patient.” Hunter said as he put his arm around your waist as the two of you and Batcher headed back to rendezvous with the others. “Jedi are meant to be good at that, right?”

“Would it shock you to know that I struggled with that?” You remarked satirically as you mirrored his actions.

Hunter chuckled. “Not in the slightest.”

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