#heart shaped chest supremacy

[nanaslutt]

Face sitting w/ Higuruma

contains: fem reader, face sitting, cumming untouched (Hiromi), dirty talk, asphyxiation, pussydrunk!Hiromi, big nose supremacy, implied multiple rounds

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Your nose is so pretty Hiromi." You whispered to the man above you. Higuruma was reading some book as you rested your head on his lap, studying his features. His nose was high with a beautiful arch, his lips soft and plump, his eyebrows thick but well kept, thanks to you, his face sharp and chiseled to match his strong, defined features, he was utterly gorgeous.

The man whose legs you were lying on tipped the book down, allowing him to have an unobstructed view of your face. He smiled softly at your serious expression before he spoke, "You think so?" He asked, still holding his book by his side. You kept your expression the same as your eyes traced down the slope of his nose.

You reached up and touched it, running your finger from the strong bridge to the tip, before you dragged your finger down to his lips, pulling his bottom one back in the process as you continued dragging it down his face, letting his lip fall back into place before you dropped your hand back down on your chest. "Yeah." You replied, your eyes finally meeting his. It was only then that you realized he had been watching you that whole time.

"What do you like about it?" He asked, egging you on. You swallowed hard as you looked at the feature once more before smiling and looking into his eyes again, "The shape is perfect, and it's so… big. It looks so pretty on your face." You said honestly, your face heating up at your own words. "Is that right?" He responded, his eyebrows raising at your unabashed honesty as he dropped his eyes to your lips briefly before looking back into your eyes.

"If it's so pretty…" Hiromi started, mindlessly folding a page of his book at the corner to save his spot before he shut it and placed it to his side, leaning his face towards yours. His large hand grabbed your chin as he got closer, his body bending over you to bring his lips agaisnt yours, "do you wanna sit on it?" He finished. You swallowed hard, feeling every muscle on your body go rigid as you heard your heart beat loudly in your ears.

"Hiromi…" You mumbled, looking away from his eyes as you tried to escape his watchful gaze. You were just trying to compliment him, how did it get like this? "What? I thought you said it was pretty. You should show me how much you really like it or I might not believe you." He said, his hot breath tickling the skin of your lips as he teased you.

You suddenly felt a warmth blossom in the bottom of your stomach as he hovered over you, teasing you by not closing the distance. Your hands reached up and curled into his house shirt as you fought to keep hold of your sanity, trying to not get swept away by his words. "Let me please you." He whispered against you before pressing a featherlight kiss against your slightly parted lips. You had started breathing heavier at some point, your body growing aroused by his words.

"Let me taste you." Another featherlight kiss. "Sit on my face, grind your clit agaisnt my nose." You moaned against his lips, leaning your head up as you made him kiss you harder, sick of his teasing. You could feel his smile against your lips, his own heavy breathing hitting your cheeks as he breathed through his nose during the kiss. "Your mouth is so dirty, Hiromi." You said bashfully as you broke the kiss, pulling back just slightly as you mumbled the barely audible words against his soft lips, red from the kiss.

"Let me show you how dirty it can really get." He teased, smirking against your lips as he forced your lips together again. Your hands abandoned their hold on his shirt as you wrapped them around his neck, scratching your nails over the nape of his neck as he kissed you, making him groan softly into your mouth, a sound that you swallowed up greedily.

——

"Hiromi this is… so embarrassing." You said as you sat on top of his chest, your bare cunt placed right between his pecs, your body moving up and down with his heavy breaths. "Why?" He asked as he ran his hands up and down the sides of your soft body, his eyes raking over your form as he waited for you to speak.

"I feel so exposed." You said, averting your eyes. Hiromi giggled, the vibrations in his chest tickling your inner thighs. "You don't usually feel embarrassed when I eat you out, why the sudden change?" He asked, tilting his head at you as he waited patiently for you to answer, despite how hard his cock was throbbing in his boxers at the thought of having you sit on his face while he tongue fucked your pussy.

His hands relaxed some of the nerves in your body as you tried to find the words. "I guess it's different 'cos I'm on top." Your eyes found his once more, only they weren't looking at your eyes, they were still dragging over your body, making you feel even more exposed. Hiromi didn't give any reaction of embarrassment when he looked back up to you and realized you were looking at him again, he just cupped your face in his hands and caressed your cheeks, watching how your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned into his touch.

"Nonsense, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. It's just me. All I want is to make you feel good, don't worry." He consoled you, his hands leaving your face and falling on your thighs, his hands caressing dangerously close to your cunt. "Now get up here, I don't know how much longer I can wait." He confessed, giving you a smirk that poorly disguised his arousal.

It was honestly a last-minute idea that popped into his head when he had asked you to sit on his face, but the second he had uttered the words out loud, his body had reacted, and it was then that he realized just how badly he really wanted this. The lawyer didn't know why he hadn't thought of this before. He always got so aroused when he ate you out.

In fact, he loved it so much that he can't remember a time when he didn't eat your pussy out before he fucked you, this should've seemed so obvious. Having you smother his face with your pussy while you rested your full weight against him? He needed to stop thinking or he was going to cream his pants prematurely.

You leaned forward and placed your hands above his head, pushing yourself up so you were hovering above his face, a good six inches or so away from his mouth. Higuruma felt his cock twitch steadily in his pants, pre-cum flooding his boxers. If he was able to look down at his crotch he was sure there would be a huge damp spot on the front.

"What if I hurt you?" You ask hesitantly, keeping your hands above his body, not yet ready to drop down onto his face. Higaruma was a very patient man, and thank god for that because you clearly needed to be reassured right now and although he wanted nothing more than to eat you out like a man starved, he would make sure you were confident first.

"You won't, I promise." He said, smoothing his hands over your thighs. When the worry didn't dissipate from your face, he continued. "Here-" He started, tapping his fingers against your thigh twice in demonstration, "If I tap you twice, let up for a moment." He instructed, watching the uncertainty slowly wash away from your face as you nodded. The man under you smiled before he spoke again, "I won't though."

Your heartbeat sounded even louder in your head when Higuruma put pressure on your thighs as he pulled you down on top of him, silently begging you to sit on him already, so you did. You absentmindedly hovered at first, but quickly corrected your mistake when you felt the burn in your thighs, your muscles letting you know you weren't fully relaxed.

Higuruma opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue as you sat against him, your taste flooding his tongue. You were now tangling your hands in his hair for stability, your fingers brushing the strands away from his forehead so you could see his beautiful, unobstructed face. You watched how his eyes fluttered back in their sockets the second you had sat down, a deep groan resonating in his chest.

You gasped at the stimulation when he began moving his tongue back and forth, keeping it flat as he rubbed it against your folds experimentally. "Tell me what feels good." He added, mumbling against your folds. You nodded before your breath got sucked out of your lungs when his lips wrapped around your clit.

Your body arched forward as he flicked your little bud between his lips with his soft tongue. Your hands dug deeper in his hair, making him groan at the painful pleasure as he suckled your clit. Higuruma's eyes were fighting to stay open. He wanted to watch you so bad, but the pleasure he was feeling from this was immense, it was almost too much to handle, resulting in his body twitching and his eyes fluttering.

You turned your head to the side to look at his stiff cock, throbbing harshly against the fabric of his boxers, but your vision was swiftly corrected by his hands digging into the fat of your thighs, making you look at him. His glossy, unfocused eyes looked deeply into yours as he silently told you to keep your eyes on him, to watch him.

You nodded in response, your body jerking and twitching each time he did something with his tongue that felt particularly good. "O-oh fuck, r-right there-" You gasped, your nails raking his scalp when his tongue ran down to prod at your entrance. He groaned loudly into your cunt, the sound sending vibrations through you, making you jerk against him.

Higuruma stuck his tongue out more, penetrating your entrance with his tongue as he began licking your inner walls. It was a sensation unlike anything you've ever felt before. You knew it felt good there because he often teased you by only fucking you with the tip of his cock, familiar with how many nerve endings there are in that particular spot.

The push and pull of his tongue inside you was making you dizzy. Saliva and your cum ran down his chin and spilled from the corners of his mouth as he tongue fucked you vigorously, opening his mouth wider agaisnt you to ensure he was reaching it as deep as he could. "Fuck! H-hiromi fuck, that feels s-so good-" You gasped, trying to contain the jerking and thrusting of your hips as you so desperately wanted to move.

Higuruma moaned at your praise, his hips fucking up into the air, pressing his cock against the inside of his boxers as he tried to get some sort of relief. He started picking up on you holding back on him when he cracked his eyes open and saw your eyes shut, mouth ajar, and your face scrunched in pleasure, but also restraint. He was able to read you like a book.

Pulling out his tongue quickly, resulting in a loud whine from you, he turned his head into the crook of your thigh and spoke, his voice still coming out muffled, "Use me, f-fuck my face." The words were rushed and needy, sounding like he needed it more than you did.

You didn't have to be told twice, you let your body take control as you rode his face, humping your cunt against his soft tongue which aided greatly in your pleasure. "A-ahhhh!" Your moans increased in volume when you stopped holding back. Your clit finally bumped into what had started this whole endeavor, his nose.

It was hard and provided just the right amount of stimulation you were looking for. You decided to repeat the process a couple of times, humping your hips against his mouth while Higuruma laid his tongue flat for you to grind on while simultaneously rubbing your clit against his nose. The man underneath you quickly picked up on your pattern, realizing you were trying to hump his nose on purpose.

His hands slid behind you to your ass as he pushed you further up on your face and started shaking his head back and forth. You almost screamed in surprise when his tongue started thrusting rapidly inside you as he drank up your juices greedily, while his nose abused your little clit, even more so with his own motions combined with your humping.

Higuruma was released the neediest, most obscene moans and groans you've ever heard from him, your body josting slightly even more not just from his head movements, but from his body shaking as his hips thrust into the air steadily. The friction he was getting on his cock was little, but the rubbing of his cockhead agaisnt the fabric from the way his cock was poking straight out against the boxers felt delicious.

His tip was always so sensitive, so it made his thrusts jerky and uneven, but it felt good nonetheless. He was sure he was going to cum like this, he could already feel the ball of pleasure start to coil up in his belly. His tongue movements got sloppier as he tried to work you up to your orgasm with him. Your own thrusts were twitchy and less intense the more your body hardened up as it prepared for your release.

"H-hiromi fuck me, k-keep fucking me with your tongue-" You gasped, your head falling back as your mouth dropped open, your nails digging against his scalp. "Ohmygod just like that- j-just like that don't fucking stop-" you babbled, moaning and whimpering his name mindlessly as you writhed on top of his face, your sounds getting higher in pitch.

You felt Hiromi's breath tickle your inner thigh through his nose each time your cunt jerked back, giving him the space to breathe. Honestly though, in this moment, he couldn't care all that much about breathing. The slight asphyxiation from you rutting against his nose made his mind feel cloudy, simultaneously making his cock more sensitive.

He released a long groan into your cunt as he came before you, his body jerking and spasming as he continued to rut his hips into the air, his cum seeping through his boxers and wetting them even more. You were about to ask if he just came, even though it was obvious, but your words were stolen from your mouth and replaced with gasps and whines as your orgasm crashed over you.

Hiromi's cock kept jerking in his boxers as he spilled the rest of his seed, still thrusting his tongue inside you as he helped you ride out your own orgasm on his face. Your body almost fell forward if not for your shaky arms reaching out and catching you against the sheets over his head as you came, your thighs squeezing around his head, now effectively cutting off his airway.

It wasn't long before he was able to breathe again though. Once your orgasm was over, your thighs went lax and so did the rest of your body as you rolled off of him, falling on your back next to his body, you a little higher up on the sheets than him. Higuruma gasped and twitched agaisnt the sheets, both of his hands coming down to cup over his cock and press against it, giving himself some sort of pressure as he basked in the aftershocks.

You weren't faring much better, your legs crossed as you laid partway on your side, your breathing rapid and loud as you tried to recover from such an intense orgasm. The two of you laid there for a good while, just letting your bodies recover with one another. After a whine, once both of your breathing had returned to normal, Higuruma turned his head to look at you, his face red and eyes lidded still, his mouth, chin, cheeks, and nose covered in your cum.

"Wow." He said quietly, making you smile as you rolled over on your side, sliding down the bed a bit so your leg was thrown over his as you rested with him. Higuruma used all of the strength he had left in his body to pull you more against him, your head now resting on his chest as he placed his chin on your head and wrapped his arms around your body.

"Y-yeah… wow." You replied, snuggling against him. "I came in my boxers." He blurted, making you giggle at his unexpected words. "What?" You laughed, trying to look up at him. You already knew that, why was he bringing it up again? If anything, someone would usually be embarrassed at that sort of thing. "Just in case you had any doubts if I liked it. I came in my boxers, didn't even touch myself." He reiterated, making you bury your head deeper into his chest at his words.

"O-okay okay, I get it. I… liked it too." You said, wanting him to shut up about it already. Hiromi stared blankly at the ceiling as he ignored your words, the only thing on his mind being how much he liked that. "Can you go again?" He asked, making your body go rigid against him. "Huh?" You asked, making sure you really heard his words properly.

You felt something hard poke your ass from the position you were laying in. Looking down you realized he was hard and ready to go again. "Can you sit on my face again? Please? I wanna see if I can get you to squirt like that." His words made your bare cunt throb around nothing. You sighed loudly before wrapping your arms around him harder, contemplating his words. "G-give me a couple more minutes and I'll be ready." You replied, resulting in a quiet, "yessss" that made you burst out into a fit of giggles.

[jksian]

02 - You up? (m)

"Shut up and ride me, yeah?"

pairing: best friend Jungkook x inexperienced reader

genre: fwb, f2l, smut, angst and fluff

w/c: 3.8k

warning: phew well... teasing, netflix and chill y'k?, mentions of his tattooes, mentioned about the movie 'after' for once, mention of infidelity (I mean Jk's ex!), mention of a threesome🙊,overstimulation, fingering, sucking, reverse cowgirl oops, protected sex (jk uses protection, jk is smart, be like jk), marking, cum play?, use of vibrator👀, ✨SQUIRTING✨, everything is very wet wet, praises and kisses😍, intimacy!!!, crying (out of pleasure), little argument, JK is a soft dom because soft!dom supremacy!! and that's it, I think, also it's not edited!

a/n: okay so, I have found a very similar video of there first smut scene here, when he was fingering her. I wanted to share it with you guys. I was hesitant at first but with all of your votes being positive, I have the courage to do it, I think.

| Series masterlist | Masterlist |

When Jungkook asked you to hang out with him, you knew how it was going to be.

You under him, or in some cases, him under you.

In both cases, his dick would be buried deep inside of you.

When you got the massage ‘you up?’ it was inevitable what was the intention behind that. Still, your oblivious self made you sit here on his bed and scroll through hundreds of series in Netflix to choose which one to watch. You liked to make yourself dumb and naïve intentionally.

Ignorance is pure bliss. Indeed.

It wasn’t something out of the ordinary for you to found Jungkook’s hand caressing your naked thighs as his hands soon travels all over your exposed skin, before they found their shelter in between your legs.

Classic Netflix and chill version.

At first, it was just an ordinary evening where two friends hang out and watch some movies together, but your relationship with Jungkook wasn’t ordinary. What kind of relationship you had with him, anyways? Fuck buddies? Friends with benefits? Situation ship?

Nah. You both made it clear that you guys will remain friends no matter what, even though you heart wanted something more than that, you buried that desire deep inside of your head.

The movie ‘after’ played in his laptop, as you made yourself comfortable and took a seat in-between his legs, leaning your back on his chest.

Everything was good until the male protagonist started eating the female protagonist out in the movie, that scene made you shift uncomfortably in his hold.

Jungkook’s hand, which was rested on your thighs previously started rubbing soothing circle there, his face too close to your neck, almost nestling in it.

You breath hitched when his hands travelled up towards your torso, lifting your shirt a little to feel the soft skin there.

You whimpered a little, unexpectedly, when he twisted your nipple in between his fingers, rolling and squeezing the soft flesh and ravishing in the euphoric feeling.

He always loved your tits. Even though they were not as huge as every other boy fantasized about, they were enough. They were real. Whenever you expressed your slight insecurity about them, he was quick to comfort you, complementing about their shapes and how soft and perfect they were or how they always brought comfort to him. You found the later one, quite odd.

“What are you doing–,” Your voice was faint, merely able to held back the moan before it escaped from your throat because of the luscious touches of him.

He chuckled at your innocence or better, false innocence and brought your body closer to him, “Just want to touch you, may I?” His lips brushed against your earlobe before gently sucked on it.

You felt arousal coming out and ruining your panties further. The damage was already done, nothing to do about that.

You nodded and he didn’t waste any time and lifted your shirt up until your tits came to his vision, made it harder for the men behind you to breath.

One of his hand sneaking its way into your shorts, flickering your sensitive bud over your panties.

“W-we were supposed to watch the movie.” You cleared your throat and tried to act nonchalant but the quaver in your voice indicated otherwise.

He chuckled again, knowing very well the effect he had on you. “Is that so? But, I want you –,” He turned your face towards him, with his dark yet full of stars in his eyes, stared right back at you, “Now.”

His eyes flickered to your lips as his own tongue swiped over his lower one, licking your lips in the process before going back to your eyes.

You felt overwhelmed, with the amount of intensity he held in his eyes, at the way he touched you with his hands. Sinistery yet heavenly.

His lips crashed on yours, lips moving in sync, like they were made for each other, made to kiss and fold like this for forever.

You lips reminds him of the delicate caresses of a brush on canvas, where vibrant hues adorn the surface, creating it as beautiful and whole.

His fingers kept on pinching your nipples and massaging your tits at the same time. You couldn’t help but whimper in his hold, turning your face to moan which you were holding back. “Look at that, how wet you are.”

He whispered into your ear, warm breath hitting the side of your face as he started kissing your jawline, making his way to your neck. Alternating between kissing and gently sucking, he ensured that by the end, your body was adorned with an array of colors, colors of him, creating a vivid and captivating masterpiece.

“You’ve been grinding against me, so, isn’t it obvious?” Futile attempt to be sassy at that moment, especially when you couldn’t help but moan at every flicker of his finger on your clit.

“So you’re admitting it that I made you this wet, hmm?” You could see the cocky smile on his face even though your eyes were shut from the pleaser he was giving you.

Jungkook was good at many things but, knew it even better when it comes to using his fingers on you. He was familiar with your body as if it were the back of his hand.

He instructed you to lift your hips and pulled of your shorts along with your panties.

You heard him cursed under his breath when you spread your legs wide for him, gave him a glimpses of your glistening pussy.

He moaned into your neck when his finger slipped easily into your pussy, feeling more of your essence leaking on his finger. Your drenched pussy stuffed with his finger, “You’ve got a pretty little cunt, baby.”

The way your cheeks heat up was embarrassing, but you didn’t care the slightest and let the moans out freely.

Your eyes rolled back when he started pumping his finger without any mercy, your cunt clenched around his thick fingers adorned in various tattoos, stretching you out perfectly.

He groaned breathily into your ear at the squelching sounds, echoing through out his room. Your rested on his shoulder, eyes shut from the overwhelming sensation when he curled his fingers and hit the right spot.

“Oh fuck! K-keep going please –,” You pleaded, voice cracked as you weren’t even able to form a complete sentence.

“Please what, baby?” He still had time to tease when you were squirming and twisting under his hold, you wanted to smack him hard on his head but you decided to play it smart. Because, getting your release was more important than letting your ego win, especially when the men was so hot and called you ‘baby’. Wait…does he called you baby?

“Stop teasing and let me cum, Kook.” The way you called him that… should be illegal. You knew how he liked being called ‘kook’ and you used that to your advantage.

He grumbled and thrusted his fingers along with his thumb on your clit, giving hard flicks on the bundle of nerves, made your legs tremble.

“oh fuck –,” you moaned, biting on your bottom lip as your hips thrusted upwards on its own, chasing your release.

Your slick dripped down your thighs as you held onto Jungkook’s shoulder for your dear life, wrinkling up his t-shirt in your tight grasp.

“You look so fucking pretty when you cum, y’k?” He smirked at you and you just returned a glare before closing your eyes again and tried to catch your breath.

You felt him moving and when you looked around and saw him reaching down to the nightstand beside his bed and pulled out a condom along with something like…hold on!... Is that–

“Jungkook! What the fuck?” The disbelief in your eyes made him smirk even more, he found amusement in your little gasp, “Saved it for special occasions.” He said while grinning at his supposed comedic statement.

“Special occasions? Since when you had a vibrator with you?” You gave him a hard glare which was supposed to indicate that you were pissed but he laughed at that. He fuckin’ laughed.

“Bought it because, I thought…,” He moved his fingers, the same ones which was buried deep into your cunt and still had your cum on it, brushed it over your lower lip, “You’d like it.” Then shoved the same finger into his mouth.

He was a fucking maniac for moaning around his own fingers, as if he was tasting world’s most delicious food or something. The fingers came out of his mouth, coated with his saliva this time.

The slow buzz of the vibrator behind you made you shiver in his hold, you felt his hands on your hips, slowly dragging them up and down until he reached your ass. Squeezing your ass cheeks firmly, he landed a slap on it out of the blue and it made you squeal on his lap.

Leaning forward, Jungkook again, started peppering kisses on your back, sucking on any area he can and licking it afterwards as he continued, made your breath hitched.

His lips were irresistible. He was irresistible. As much as you hate to admit it, it was the truth. Even though, he was your best friend and you guys were on the strict rule of FWB, The men sucking on your skin made you this wet like no one else and made you feel things you’ve never felt for anyone before.

It was dangerous whatever it was happening between you two. You knew it but, does it made you stop? No.

The way you shameless let out the loudest moan when he brought that cute little pink magic wand to your clit, made you slap your hand on your mouth and your legs to shut immediately.

His hardness was poking on your lower back, he was in his boxer so it was easy to feel it through the thin layer of clothing. He remove the vibrator and in an instant, you shifted onto his lap properly, this time your pussy directly on his cock which made him gasped and groaned. The sounds he made was enough to grew the ache in between your legs, it made you needier for any kind of touch he could gave you.

Your slickness dripped on his clothed cock from your bare pussy as you grind on it. He shut his eyes from the feeling of it, you felt him twitching.

“Fuck. Wait– baby, you planning on making me cum in my pants?” He chuckled breathily, pupils dilated with sheer lust as he said, “Let me take off my boxers.”

You shifted of his lap before he took it off. The idea of making him cum in his pants was arousing, you smiled as said while turning around to look at him, “Not a bad idea, though.”

You received a smack on your ass again along with the sound of his sweet chuckle. “Shut up and ride me, yeah?”

That considered yet dominating tone of his voice made your heart swell and your pussy clenched. The fact that he was making sure to made you feel comfortable, if you wanted the same thing or not even though it was the thing he wanted was appreciating. You knew, if you told him no and stopped, he wouldn’t even question you.

You smiled in return and kissed him, cupping his face while leaning on his shoulder, your back pressed against his chest and his cock brushed against your entrance, this time bare, direct skin to skin. It was enough to made you go crazy.

He squeezed your boobs and aligned his member at your entrance. Moaning into his mouth, you glided down on his length and took him in one-go.

He moaned along with you. Before you could start moving, he brought the vibrator to your clit and set it at the lowest mode but that was enough stimulation for you to roll your hips.

Jungkook held your waist, guided you on his cock while keeping the vibrator on your clit steadily.

“Yeah baby, ride it like that. Make yourself come on my cock.” He said through gritted teeth, groaning under his breath every time you thrust back on him. His other hand pressed lightly on your lower belly where his bulge can be seen while he increased the speed of the vibrator a bit higher. Your thighs shakes from the overstimulation, tears formed in your eyes and your moans were uncontrollable.

“Fuck fuck, gonn– c-come,” You cried out, tears now freely running down your flushed cheeks, the squelching sound of skin slapping against each other filled the room.

“Shit, hold it for me.” You thrusts were becoming erratic, upon knowing that Jungkook immediately handed over the vibrator to you and held you by your waist, started thrusting back at you.

He lay down on the mattress, seeing how his cock disappeared inside you and reappeared made him twitch violently, “Yes baby, that’s it. You feels so fucking good,” He groaned.

His praises made you clenched around him, moaning from the pure pleasure, you throw your head back. Even though, the vibrator was making you overstimulate, you couldn’t brought yourself to remove it. Nails digging on his hand, leaving marks for him to remember just like the bruises which will be prominent on your waist later, because of the dead grip of his.

He was rougher than before, slamming into you without a care in the world, “Fuck, I can see everything from here, how your pussy is swallowing my cock, baby. S-shit –,” He didn’t missed a chance to hit that perfect spot inside of you, abusing it to the point that your walls spasm and you squirt all over his cock and the bed sheet beneath you.

Tears stream down your cheeks from the intense pleasure in your core, your whole body shakes, you immediately removed the toy from you but Jungkook never stopped, constantly slammed back at you.

“Fuck, J-jungkook,” More spurs of liquids gushes out of you every time his cock came out of you. You couldn’t handle the pleasure as your body gave out and you leaned back on his chest. He still continued while holding onto you.

“Oh fuck–,” Jungkook moaned, never stopping his movements. The way you squirt, the hot liquid coated his cock, how your drenched pussy felt so good was overwhelming for him. You made him overwhelmed.

“I-I’m coming –,” You shrieked, pussy gripping his cock almost painfully. Jungkook couldn’t think straight as your warm walls engulf his member completely.

“Come on, come for me, baby.” Your vision got blurry, the harsh thrusts and the overstimulation was too much for you. You moans choked out from your throat, you almost let out a scream but restrained yourself for the sake of his neighbors.

With a last thrust, he finally came. His eyes rolled back as he dick restlessly twitches inside of you before he spiller his seeds inside the condom.

He slides out of you and your come oozed out of you, your body fall on top of him and he held you close to his chest. You could heard the soft beating of his heart, his slightly harsh breaths as he tried to recover from the intense session you two just shared.

You both lay down there in silent, hearing each other breaths and just…held onto each other like that in an intimate way.

Jungkook shifted in his place as he held onto you gently, carefully, not wanting to hurt you by any means as he places you beside him.

Your eyes were still closed when he cupped your face in his hands, when you finally looked at him you saw him staring back at you with his usual wide doe eyes. He didn’t said anything at first, just stared at you with something in his eyes you couldn’t decipher before he spoke, “Are you okay?”

His voice was as soft as his touches, there was slight hint of concern in his tone. This little things was the reason behind your growing feeling for him.

How caring and considerate he was with you, how he treated you as if he wanted you. Yes, he does wanted you but not in the way you wanted him. He was the first one to comfort you, he was always there for you. As a friends, he was perfect. And, as a boyfriend, he would be definitely better than your ex.

You smiled at him, “Yes, I’m absolutely okay.” You said that rather enthusiastically, making him chuckled in the process. He gave you a kiss on your forehead before despairing into his bathroom.

You thought, how it might be if you could tell him about the things you felt for him. It all started after he got cheated on by his ex.

He was devastated after that. You still remember the day when he cried in front of you. Jungkook was someone who wasn’t very good at expressing his emotions through words nor liked crying in front of others. So, when he did, you could imagine how hurt he might had been at that moment.

Still, he gave her some time and came with an agreement that they both just needed space to figure out what they both wanted. Bullshit.

You never liked that idea. She literally cheated on him, even though she was kissing another girl on the lips, it still considered as cheating. Still, you supported Jungkook, because that’s what friends do.

Your chain of thoughts broke as Jungkook entered his room with a wet towel in his hand and a glass of water. You took it out of his hand and gulp down the water but he didn’t gave you the towel. He always does that, wiping your essence off of you every time. You stopped with your futile attempts of you can do that yourself long ago.

“Wait, let me take a shower.” You didn’t said anything, it was strange. Aftercare was important for him, you knew it. Usually, you two shower together or cuddled up on the bed, but, this time, he went alone. You found that odd before your focus shifted towards his phone.

The sound of a notification made your face turned towards the litted up screen. You scooted over it and the thing you saw made your blood boiled for unknown reasons.

You saw a notification from his ex-girlfriend. They weren’t in the talking situation so, why he got notifications from her. The suspicion and bitterness got the best of you and you quickly dressed to leave his apartment.

Just as you were about to head outside, he barged out of the bathroom, halting his movements for a second by your form standing in front of his door to leave, the automatic pout came onto his face out of confusion, he spoke, “Where are you going? Wait– why are you leaving?”

His brows pinched together a frown settled on his face, “Is everything okay?” There was seriousness in his voice. He tried to came closer but, he noticed the hesitation in your movements so he backed up, didn’t wanted to made you uncomfortable.

“I – just have something’s to do.” You lied, voice came out in an whisper as if you didn’t had any strength left in your body. Nothing wrong there, fucking Jungkook always made your body exhausted afterwards, but, your heart always felt content. Not this time.

Even if he sensed your lie, he didn’t question you. “Then, let me drop you there at least,” He went to grab his keys before you stopped him in the track.

“Do your still talk with Sana?” There was a few seconds of silence, not a sound of footsteps or even breathing. Utter silent. You heart beats increased with every second, holding onto your handbag, you waited for his reply.

“No… but, she followed me on Instagram yesterday.” He told you the truth, never wanted to lie to you. He just didn’t knew why he made this thing a secret. Not a secret, he just didn’t priorities it enough to discussed this with you.

“And?”

“And, I followed her back, then she sent a massage.” He said that so casually as if he was talking about a random person. It wasn’t any random person.

You turned around and looked at him. You didn’t understood why you felt a stinging pain in your heart when you saw him standing there oblivious. There was a slight worriedness in his eyes.

“Jungkook…I don’t know what you were thinking but…why didn’t you tell me? Also, why are you talking to your ex?” Okay, not so smart question. You did admitted that. That’s his life, he could talk to anyone he wants, so asking him why he did that was stupid.

Still, he tried to explain, “I– sorry, I should’ve said this before, but I thought it wasn’t much important to discuss about,”

“Wasn’t much important to discuss with me, right?”

“What? No! ____, It’s not what you’re thinking –,”

“Then, what is it? Jungkook, she cheated on you –,” Those words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. You wished you didn’t said that because the way his eyes went wide and glossy, made your heart hurt.

“Lets not come to an conclusion yet, she said she need some time and I gave her that. Also, she did that after…her last encounter with us.” This time, you gasped. He was talking about the threesome you guys had a month ago before their break up.

It was a casual thing between the three of you, all of you gave your own concerns, all three of you wanted that. Now, why he brought that topic into this argument. The conclusion was far more worse. You brain immediately responded with he thinks she cheated on him because of me.

His ex wanted to explore her sexuality after her encounter with you during the threesome. It all came clear in your mind.

“Are you implying that…she cheated on you because of me?” Your voice slightly cracked at the end of the sentence and you cringed. Not wanting to stay even a second there, you barged out of his room without looking back.

“No no, ____ , listen. I never blamed you– fuck! I could never do that, baby.” He grabbed you arm, tried to calm you down. “Please, don’t misunderstood me.”

His voice held so much vulnerability, panic rushed over his eyes. You couldn’t brought yourself to look at him, because if you did, you would mold back into his arms instantly and you couldn’t let that happen.

He kept on pleading to you, standing at the doorway and you. You huffed at his stubbornness, “Jungkook, please I have to go, now. We can talk about this later.” You again lied.

Jungkook wouldn’t wanted to disrespect your decision or invade your personal space, he backed away from the door. He couldn't understand outburst but he did knew that you never liked it when someone hide something from you. he knew, he made you upset which he never wanted.

You could see his glistening eyes staring right at you, his brows furrowed as he kept on looking at you until you departed from his apartment.

Your tears, unrestrained, finally flowed freely, unable to be held back any longer.

[dark-and-kawaii]

Cambion's Daughter

⋆˙⟡♡ Summary/Request: "was wondering if you had any more thoughts on Raphael being a dad".

⋆˙⟡♡ Fatherhood <- Original Thoughts On Dadphael

⋆˙⟡♡ Dadphael | Fluff | Good Dad

Raphael stood motionless in his private chambers, eyes fixed intently on the tiny creature swaddled in black silk in his arms.

She could not have been more different from him, small, weak, her features delicate like the petals of an early spring blossom, each contour soft, requiring the gentlest touch lest she be bruised or damaged by the harshness of a careless hand... And yet she was of his blood, borne from his loins in a carnal union nine months past. For nine months he had paid her growing form within you little attention beyond ensuring her continued existence. Babies held no interest for the future King of the Hells; Raphael had bigger designs to attend to, realms to rule.

But now, gazing into her sleepy face, something stirred deep within him that he did not comprehend. Her tiny claws flexed open and closed, grasping unconsciously at empty air, and when her eyes fluttered open to meet his own, he found himself transfixed by pools of liquid amber peering back without fear or judgment.

She cooed softly, her tail, so much smaller than his own, coming up to wrap loosely around his wrist. At the unfamiliar touch, his face -ever locked in a mask of disdain for lesser beings- softened without his consent. Lips parted in a genuine smile, small but full of wonder, as he beheld the tiny creature that was his child, his to shape and form into the perfect creation.

In that moment, Raphael knew he was lost. His life had always been in order, his purpose singular and undistracted; to ascend to the throne of the Hells and rule with unchallenged might. His existence was a tapestry of power plays, strategic alliances, and dominance. He was a creature of ambition, his every action calculated to assert his supremacy. This child of his blood though, his daughter, had worked a change in him he could never have foreseen or prevented.

Now at night, as she slept curled in the cradle of his wings, lulled by the steady beat of his mighty heart. Raphael, the great devil himself, came to live for these quiet moments of unconditional love from his little mouseling.

He’ll bring her with him to sit in his archive, gently holding her against his chest as she sleeps, a written contract lying on his desk while he works. Though his face was still stern and stoic to outsiders, in these private moments a softness always emerged that few had ever seen. As he gazed upon her peaceful face, he wondered how such a small creature could hold so much power over one as mighty as himself.

When she stirs slightly in her sleep while on his chest, Raphael instinctively holds her closer, protective of his newest treasure.

Calls her the apple of his eyes, little mouseling, his little fiend, and my favorite “my little mirror” - Hinting that she reflects the best of her father's qualities.

As the months passed, Raphael watched with joy and wonder as his little mouseling grew stronger. Her amber eyes, once barely open, now gazed up at him with curiosity and delight. Her tiny claws, once grasping blindly at air, now clutched his leg with surprising strength. With each new milestone, she grew stronger, more fierce, and his heart swelled with pride.

His daughter develops a strong attachment to Raphael and seeks comfort in his presence. Whenever she encounters someone new, she hides behind his leg, finding solace and security by his side.

Dark thoughts do tend to creep into his mind. As the future ruler of the Hells, he would have many enemies who would seek to undermine his power. If they knew of his newfound weakness, they would surely try to exploit it. His daughter's very existence would be put her in danger. These thoughts usually diminish fairly quickly, he still thinks highly of himself and with the crown no one could ever strike him or his daughter down.

[yandere-toons]

Hear me out:

I don’t follow these blogs too much, but

Bob Velseb from “Spooky Month: Tender Treats”?

WARNING: cannibalism, bloody violence, use of firearms, home invasion, toxic mindset.

* * *

When the door came flying off its hinges, you pulled the trigger.

A thunderous bang did echo within the house, followed by the jangle of the bullet casing as it bounced around the floor.

Looming in the doorway was a bulky man dressed for the cold, yet all the bullet managed to do was poke a hole in the fabric of his red turtleneck sweater.

It had been a straight shot at his heart. Any human would have been felled and lying in a dark puddle, but he stood tall and looked down his nose at the wound.

A smile was beaming across his face, the kind that made your latest meal rise in your throat and your hold on the pistol weaken until sweat beaded on your forehead.

His eyes, wild and monstrous, rolled up to yours. “Howdy, neighbour!” There was an ominous deepness and slowness to his voice that simmered with barely contained enthusiasm.

The news bulletin flashed in your mind's eye, and the line between reality and a face on a screen blurred as Bob Velseb stalked into your home.

He moved with the swiftness and quietude of a hunter, the music of Halloween at his back.

Atop his head was a pair of devil horns, plastic and red as the mask covering his hair and face. The curve of the horns formed the same crescent as the upward turn of his lips. His front three upper teeth were visible, catching the silvery moonlight in a grin that reached from one ear to the other.

A mix of saliva and blood dripped from his chin, the clear sheen of his drool having blended into the sanguine fluid in a viscous trail that fell in drops to the floor.

The pitter-patter of these droplets splattering over the floorboards rippled among the silence of the home. Its supremacy came under challenge as the breaths emanating from Bob grew into hungry, panting scrambles for air.

A pinkish tint swelled brighter inside his cheeks with each puff, and this, combined with his unblinking stare and wide-open mouth, gave the illusion of a child bursting with excitement.

Bob jerked forward in a step so rapid that it was hardly noticeable. The board creaked underfoot for just a moment, letting out a squeak like that of a mouse.

The blade, pulled taut in his right hand, bared its pointy end at the floor. It glinted in the dim light of the night, which was filtered and splintered through the shutters of the living room window.

The hulking shape of Bob was silhouetted against this window, all except for the whites of his eyes. His eyes glowed with a cyan tinge, and they strayed from you to the bowl of candy on the kitchen counter for a mere second.

“Did you know?” he mused, lapping his lower lip with his tongue and speaking with the casual freedom of friends chatting over Sunday dinner. “In some cultures, the recently deceased are eaten by their families—” he cocked his head, pupils dilating and grin stretching wider “—as a way of feeling closer.”

Bob had raised the index finger of his free hand and was jiggling it alongside his words. In that instant, he resembled a schoolteacher giving a presentation in front of the blackboard.

The smile on his face tightened into a snarl as soon as you started to creep backwards. His veneer of innocence was torn away like an unwanted curtain, and in its place was a glare, a predatory and deathly one.

“Going somewhere?” The tip of his knife was lifted in the direction of your chest. He was salivating like a dog, streaks of froth leaking from the corners of his lips.

A twitch began to infect his fingers as if he were itching to grab and hold.

You calculated the distance between where you stood and the back door. It was half the distance between you and Bob, which he went to close with an eager dash.

The blade rang as it sliced the air, and if not for a duck and a dodge, your blood would have stained the floorboards. Bob swung his knife with wanton passion and charged at you, each swing holding the weight of a brick wall behind it.

Your back collided with the locked door and rattled it upon impact. The stiff and bumpy texture of the wooden frame pressed against your skin as the full force of Bob was caught in your hands, with your fingers wrapping around his wrists and pushing them away from your head.

The pointy end of his knife hovered near your eyeball with a slight shake. Bob bore down on it with all his might, and he leaned forward so that his warm breath was fanning your face.

When his attention flitted between your eyes and the hand of yours that restrained his knife, you predicted the chomp and subsequent spike of pain that came next.

Bob sunk his teeth into your forearm as if it were a delicacy. The pressure was akin to a bear trap snapping shut around your flesh. Lines of saliva traced the length of your arm, intertwined with the driblets of blood secreted by the punctures.

He refused to let go no matter how much you squirmed and wrenched your affected limb. A yelp escaped you that made his cheeks turn red-hot, and his eyes gazed into your crinkled own as if he were seeing something beautiful.

It took you cracking him in the head with the butt of the pistol to loosen his grip. Still, Bob held on and thrust his knife at you every time you attempted to slip past him.

Just as your legs were beginning to buckle, the shrill wail of a police siren cried out in the night. Revolving stripes of blue and red skirted the shutters and painted the interior of the house every few seconds.

Bob ripped his teeth out of your arm and recoiled, head whipping towards the front door. His face contorted into a vicious scowl, and a cyan light flared in his eyes. A rumble in his chest evolved into a growl climbing high in his throat, deepening and strengthening into a roar.

He yanked himself away from you and brandished his knife at the doorway. “Don't interrupt us!” Spit flew out of his mouth, dotting the floor in uneven splotches.

Footsteps thundered across the driveway and up the doorstep, and in a flash of metal rising from holsters, a pair of police officers flooded into the living room with their handguns drawn and pointed.

“Stand down, Bob!” shouted the mustachioed officer.

Bob had a feral look in his eye, and as his body shook while his hand clenched the knife, a bloodthirsty rampage on par with a wild animal seemed all but destined.

However, Bob kept his arms at his side and his teeth to himself when the police officers approached him with handcuffs. At the chink of the cuffs latching onto his wrists, his head swerved towards you.

He was led to the doorway, where a police cruiser idled on the street with its lights flashing against the blackness of the twilight. Before Bob was forced out of your sight, his lips curled into a grin that glowed under the moon.

“See you soon, neighbour!”

[acheronist]

HI ISABEL i was thinking abt ur beechey boys + peglar/armitage extended cinematic universe while doing my laundry earlier (<- normal guy behaviour) and now i'm curious if u've thought of any actors/face claims for them – beechey boys especially bc we don't even have terror versions to use lol 👀🎤

HI GENEEEE 🖤 this is interesting.... honestly i've never been very good at fan casting shit because my default is always just going "x character should be played by riz ahmed" which ummmm would not work here i fear.

anyways everyone watch out there's gonna be mummy images below the cut

okay i really don't care about actors enough to do this well ummm LMAO johnny bertchtold YOU🫵🏻 are now john shaw torrington!! except johnny's way too tall and also ripped to be jorts.... i will say tho, as annoying as the john torrington/david young erasure is in the amc show, they did kind of nail it with alfie kingsnorth... now that's a skinny blonde bitch who looks half dead! he's got the right big round eyes + prominent cheekbones as jorts

if we could get some mutton chops and the uniform of a royal marine private onto ferdinand kingsley i think he'd be fantastic as william braine..... actually now that i'm looking at this i kind of feel like a genius for this one LMAO??

john hartnell is a little harder because i've already decided in my heart that this daguerreotype is 100% undeniably him even though the chances of it are actually probably very low. in actuality. but i have tried to match up the daguerreotype "hartnell" with the mummy hartnell and i do think it's a super close match.... i just wish mr. daguerreotype hadn't tucked his hair over his ear so i could compare the shape of john's ear.... but anyways there is actually one bg dude from terror amc who i have also kind of decided could be jarts!!! he was one of the dudes who voted to stay on terror and die there instead of out on the shale before everyone abandoned ship... he's got the right haircut for it <3 but also i think rob james-collier could be kind of a slay for jartnell if we can get him back to his downton abbey prime

and then thomas morgan hasn't really made his debut in the beechey boys cinematic universe (yet. chapter two still cooking......) and we also haven't exhumed HIM so this is really just like throwing a dart and calling it good. i did draw a little version of him here tho . so do with this as you will i guess. me when i'm just making up whatever the fuck. he should be kind of sickly looking as well though because my dude was going THROUGH it (+ he had one million pre existing conditions) before he died.

and for like... henry & thomas theyre much more nebulous in my brain..... maybe i'll try and draw them later!? i did do fanart here of henry tho but i fear it's got a heavy amc casting influence on what he looked like.

real life facts: thomas (5'9") is 2 inches taller than henry (5'7"), henry probably had broad/strong arms and shoulders due to climbing around in the rigging for his whole career, both of them had brown hair, and thomas was older than henry enough that he was probably starting to get salt-and-pepper grey during the miserable stressful parts of the expedition. henry's id papers describe his complexion as "sallow" and based on how many captains said he had a shitty/indifferent/bored attitude while working leads me to believe my king had chronic resting bitch face + looked vaguely exhausted and pale and unwell even when he was healthy.

also in my heart amc nailed it with giving thomas curly hair tho... charlie kelly is cute to meeeeee... unfortunately he isn't 40 years old enough. no source no facts anyways i just want to believe in curly girl armitage supremacy. ALSOOOO in my heart (again) henry has sailor tattoos-- HOLD FAST on his knuckles for good luck in the ropes + two swallows on his chest under each collarbone to mark his 10,000th mile at seas. i forgot what i was talking about. i think do think k*vin g*thrie's face was honestly too conventionally attractive for henry though. i just know my man was mid as fuck. frown lines from scowling, ink stains on his fingers at all times, never worn sunblock ever, thinks splashing water on his face counts as moisturizing etc.... MY henry peter peglar is pretty weather-beaten and looks like a mean cunt and sometimes he snarls at people like a badly trained dog. amen.

[thornsnvultures]

Pierced

Eddie Munson x Reader

18+, minors dni or you will be blocked

1.3k, he/they/gn!reader (Eddie calls them big boy/baby boy a couple times), p in h smut (a lot of use of the word hole), Eddie w/ nip piercings, piercing kink, nipple play, best friends to lovers, spit kink (spit for lube), BDE (big dick Eddie supremacy), creampie

divider by @firefly-graphics

🍁 fluff/kinktober masterlist

"Can I touch them?"

"Go for it, they're healed."

You push up Eddie's shirt and marvel at what he's done.

"They look so good, Eds. Did it hurt?"

"Not as much as the tats. Worst was when they were healing, had to keep them taped so they didn't catch on my shirt."

Eddie lays back in bed with his hands behind his head and lets you explore. Tentatively you lift a finger to one of his nipples and push the barbell. When Eddie hisses you snatch your hand away, worried you hurt him.

"I'm fine! I'm good, it's just sensitive," Eddie smiles, reassuring you.

Sensitive? Suddenly you have the urge to pop one of his nipples in your mouth. You're already straddling his hips, sitting awfully close to his crotch for someone who's "just a friend".

Your cheeks feel hot, you know you should probably stop, but you can't help yourself. Eddie makes such interesting sounds when you play with the metal bars. You pull on one, then the other, before spinning them both. His nipples are forced to stand to attention, hard and red. And now all you can think of is his cock. About how red his cock would be if you tugged and teased it like this. Butterflies erupt in your gut and you swallow hard to try and push them down.

"You like 'em. Don'tcha, big boy."

Eddie smiles his big shit-eating grin, chuckling when you yelp and bend down, hiding your face in his neck.

"Don't tease, Eddie."

"Never, sweetheart. I'm glad you like 'em. Like you touchin' 'em too."

Eddie grabs your hips and scoots you down his lap until your ass is perched on top of his hard cock tucked beneath denim.

"Eddie..."

"Keep touchin' me, sweetheart? Love you makin' me feel good."

Biting your lip you hesitate for a moment before nodding. Friends help each other out, right? You want him to feel good too.

Eddie's eyes close when you touch him again. The pads of your fingers run over his distended nipples. They seem to tighten under your touch and you can't hold back the whine that's been building in your throat.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Whatever you want, go ahead. I'll let you know if I don't like it."

You nod, licking your lips. This time you feel Eddie's eyes on you when you lean down. You both shudder when your tongue makes contact with the cool metal.

"That's it, baby."

You moan into his warm skin as your tongue lashes out again and again. He tastes like metal and the salty sweet of his skin, a delicious combination that makes your toes curl. You move back and forth from one nipple to the other, sucking and licking until Eddie's practically thrashing under you. His hands squeeze your hips particularly hard when you bite at his tit and suck, leaving a dark red patch then another in the shape of a heart right over his heart.

"Aren't you fucking cute," Eddie pants. "God, sweetheart, I'm so fucking hard. Need'ta be inside you."

"Eddie," you groan, his dick pulsing against the split of you.

"You want me in that tight little hole, big boy?"

"Oh fuck, Eddie. Yes, yes, please."

Eddie pulls your face up from his chest to capture your lips in a searing kiss. As his tongue tangles with yours you imagine him getting a piercing there too and whine, your gut clenching with need. You wish he could use that long, perfect tongue on you everywhere, but right now the promise of his cock filling you is too good to pass up.

Eddie flips you over onto your back and rips your sweats and underwear off your legs.

"Hold these for me, sweetheart."

Eddie holds your legs up to your chest and you grab the backs of your knees to keep them up and open. Your face is hot, heart racing in your chest from the wild fucking turn your afternoon has taken. Eddie's taking off his tight ass jeans and peeling off his boxers. You gulp at the sight of his fat cock slapping against his stomach with a thud.

"Don't worry, big boy," Eddie grins, "I'll prep you right. Want you to take all of it."

"All of it?"

"Mm. That's right. Now keep those legs up and spread your hole for me. Wanna see where I'm gonna stuff you full 'uh me."

You do as you're told and groan when Eddie bends down and spits on your hole. He pulls his shirt over his head as it drips down your crack.

"So pretty, baby. Fuck," Eddie groans with you when he slowly slides a finger into your hole. Your head falls back against the bed as your walls flutter around his thick digit. You feel so full already and it's only one finger.

"Eddie."

"I know, I know. Don't wanna hurt you."

He gives you a few more pumps before adding a second finger. You watch him watching you as he spreads his fingers inside you, digging you out and opening you up. He spits on your hole again and you cry out, babbling and begging for more. "Need you, need it, Eddie."

"Shh, I got you, sweetheart."

You wrapped your thighs around Eddie's waist as he knelt between them, nudging at your entrance with the fat head of his cock.

"Breathe. I got you."

You took a deep breath and opened your eyes, blinking as you stared up at Eddie. His smile and those big beautiful brown eyes immediately put you at ease. You trusted him, felt safe with him. You knew Eddie would never hurt you.

"Ready, big boy?"

You smile and smack Eddie's chest, careful to avoid his piercings. "Yes, yes, I'm ready. Please, Eddie."

You gasp when his head pops in.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight."

Eddie drops to his elbows, bracketing your head as he rocks forward. His fluffy hair surrounds you in a soft curtain of his scent.

"Feels so good, Eddie."

You run your hands up his side to his chest. He shivers on top of you when you tug at his nipples.

"God, fuck." His head drops to the crook of your neck and he finally bottoms out.

A gasp stutters in your chest as he rolls his hips against you, buried to the root. You've never felt so full, you swear you can feel him in your throat.

"Need more, Eds," you beg in a whisper by his ear.

"Greedy, greedy, boy." He nips down your neck, leaving a hot trail of kisses in his wake.

Eddie groans as he pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in. Deep, powerful thrusts that have his thighs slapping against your ass in a delicious rhythm, pushing you further up his bed with every beat.

"Touch yourself, baby boy, wanna see you come."

Eddie looms over you on his hands and knees as he pounds into you over and over, watching as your hand flies. You're so close to coming already but Eddie gets there first, unable to hold back any longer. His wild thrusts grow unsteady until he's pressing into you and spilling his load deep in your guts. You tug at one of the bars of metal as he cums, twisting it until he shouts and flips the two of you over.

"Don't stop touching yourself, baby."

You keep going with one hand, the other gripping Eddie's chest as he pumps his still hard cock into your weeping hole from below. His spend oozes out and makes a ring around his cock, the squelching of it pounding into you pushes you over the edge and you shout Eddie's name as you soak him with your release. Not caring about the mess, you collapse to his chest. Eye to eye with the curse metal in his chest, you fall asleep to Eddie's promise to take care of it, to take care of you. Always.

[pennylanewrites]

＊Shenanigans＊

Saiki Kusuo x gn! reader

description: Kusuo sneaks into your room at night because he needs someone and he knows his best friend is always there for him, no matter what.

pairings: Saiki x reader

word count: 0.8k

genre: fluff hehe

tw: implied depression

Saiki is kinda out of character in this oops-

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

03:27

Kusuo looked from his phone screen to the window and back. Your lights were closed, did you fall asleep mid-conversation? He groaned into his pillow before rolling over and staring at the ceiling. A warm droplet rolled on the pillow, the cotton fabric drying almost immediately, until more tears hit the blue pillowcase.

You’d think that being a psychic and what not, he wouldn’t have to worry about feeling sad and like his heart was getting ripped open. But he couldn’t help it, because the powers he had were overbearing and so was his duty to save Japan from a soon-to-erupt volcano.

turn your lights off and go to bed<3

Kusuo managed to make out the text with blurry sight. He got off his bed and opened the window over the desk that led to the roof of his house. Careful not to draw any unwanted attention, he knocked on the window across from his own. A dim light got turned on, a few things fell on the floor and the window finally opened.

     There you were, in all your glory; messed up hair, tired eyes, plump lips and an old t-shirt worn inside out. The first thing you noticed was Kusuo's wet cheeks. Without a word, you stepped away from the window for him to get in. The window was left open for the spring night breeze to leave you with no choice but to hurdle for some coziness.

"Do you need a hug?"

"No." He managed to look away from you, but your own gaze didn't miss the blush on his cheeks.

"I think you do." You smiled sweetly and pushed your arms between his own, locking them on the small of his back and resting your cheek on his chest.

"Sorry for coming in like this."

"I don't mind." You said absentmindedly and pulled him to your bed slowly. Before he knew it, Kusuo was laying on your chest and your fingers were drawing shapes on his clothed back. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I just need you." He admitted. You were caught by surprise, but still reacted accordingly.

"Of course you do." You joked and breathed out into his strawberry hair, earning a hum of appreciation from him.

"Wait, I mean-"

"How long will you run circles around your feelings, Kusuo?" The pinkette raised his head. His watery purple eyes met your own, tired ones and then looked down at your pouty lips.

"What feelings? Idiot."

"I don't know. You tell me. Weren't you the one that convinced Metori to skip our date?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He mumbled and hid his face in the crook of your neck before a blush could form on his cheeks. With a chuckle, you left a kiss on the top of his head.

"You smell like coffee jelly." Kusuo noticed and looked up again. Without caring for the space between you, or lack thereof, he took in the familiar bittersweet smell.

"I ate some before bed." You whispered, almost talking into his half-open mouth.

"Oh." He nodded, his bottom lip slightly grazing yours, sending shivers down your whole body.

"Do you want a taste?"

"Do I...Do I what? Do you have coffee je–"

"Kiss me." You whispered, not even sure if he heard you. You almost pushed him off you out of embarrassment, but before you knew it you were melting into his kiss and his soft caresses on your cheek.

"Kusuo–"

"You taste like coffee jelly." He mumbled and kissed you again, this time his lips lingering on your own, taking in your taste.

"Are you only kissing me because I taste like coffee jelly?"

"No." He furrowed his brows, but his frown turned upside down when you flashed a toothy grin, the one he longed to see for what felt like a lifetime.

Before you knew it, your lips clashed again, in a sleepy, slow, full of pent-up feelings kiss. Kusuo's hands travelled on your waist and hips while yours settled on his shoulders, pulling him in as much as you could. Kusuo pulled back and looked down at you, bringing one of his hands on your face, his fingers moving a few strands of hair away to take in all of your beauty.

"Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes." He nodded and fell on the pillow next to you, draping one of his arms over your stomach and turning his head to face you. You scooted closer to his warm body, one hand over his and the other grazing his lips absentmindedly.

"Will you stay the night?"

"Only if you want me to."

"Stay, Kusuo."

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

IM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN HELLO???? this actually is a small part of a Saiki x oc fanfiction I gave up on, but this made me wanna continue it lol

soft saiki supremacy（╹◡╹）

[tothemeadow]

How Genshin Characters View the Traveler (aka crushes galore)

I know this isn't a Genshin blog but I need to get this off my chest and organize my thoughts because I believe in Aether harem supremacy ✌

Disclaimer: this is meant for fun, so don’t get your knickers in a twist

Albedo

Albedo blatantly admits that the traveler fascinates them. He'll usually ask to hear of their numerous journeys and take notes on them. He quite enjoys their company, but Albedo is pretty clueless about his own feelings, especially those of the romantic sort. He wonders why he catches himself staring at them so much.

Amber

Amber is easily one of the traveler’s biggest supporters. She almost gets a bit too excited whenever they’re around, but she’ll also outright deny that she has a crush on them if anyone were to poke fun at her. If time allows it, she’ll often ask them to go gliding around Mondstadt with her.

Ayaka

Ever since she first heard of the traveler, their accomplishments genuinely impressed Ayaka. However, once she first met them in person, she was taken aback by how attractive they were. Furthermore, once they helped her out, she gets more insight of how truly wonderful they are and her affections (hence the dance performance).

Barbara

Barbara truly believes they are an actual gift sent by Barbatos himself. Not only are they kind and helpful, but they treat her with respect as a person, not some glorified object. She tends to get flustered easily and turns shy whenever the traveler compliments her.

Beidou

Beidou likes to laugh, and she thinks the traveler is funny. She often swaps stories about fights and adventures with them, so there’s definitely a bond between them! She especially appreciates their fighting spirit and would be honored to have them join their crew or at least be a drinking buddy (despite what the traveler says).

Bennett

The traveler is essentially an idol in Bennett's eyes. He admires them so much, but it never gets to the creepy level of obsession. He jumps at the opportunity to travel with them every time. Bennett isn't really good with distinguishing feelings, but knowing that they treat him as an equal makes his stomach flutter.

Childe

Hey girlie 😏 Childe gets off to the idea of someone successfully kicking his ass or potentially being able to kill him, so he is an absolute simp for the traveler. He genuinely loves it when they show disinterest at his flirting, and he swoons whenever they're sarcastic with him. He's not pathetic, he's just a sadomasochist.

Chongyun

Frankly, Chongyun’s just happy to have another friend besides Xingqiu. He also really likes the way they don’t push him out of his comfort zone, but instead try to gently coax him out. He’s often very cold to the touch and constantly chilly, but he feels oddly warm whenever the traveler is beside him.

Diluc

Appreciates the fact that the traveler isn't full of shit (unlike some people). He's impressed by their competence and their fighting abilities, so he doesn't hesitate in complimenting them. He usually says things without really thinking through them, so sometimes Diluc says something sappy or embarrassing without meaning to.

Diona

Diona thinks the traveler may or may not be cute. She won't admit it, though. She won't admit that she cares about their wellbeing either. The traveler is just another person who's going to come and go, so there's no point in getting invested in them. It's a relatively simple crush, nothing more.

Eula

Eula is more or less impressed with the traveler. She views them as a truly reliable person that is able to get the job done. Although she may seem skeptical at times, one of her greatest fantasies is to find more rebellious people like them and break free of Mondstadt and her lineage.

Fischl

Perhaps the traveler is a dashing monarch from another world! It genuinely excites her that they follow along with her roleplaying, even when some of her messages get lost in translation. She appreciates their friendly gestures and the fact they don’t treat her like an outsider.

Ganyu

A lot of people have a difficult have a hard time understanding Ganyu’s feelings, so it came as quite as a surprise that she and the traveler clicked almost instantly. The traveler treats her as another person, not as some ancient being; this type of behavior is what made her become flustered around them in the first place ☺️

Hu Tao

Thinks they’re super cute! She’s one who’s playful and flirty; however, her ways are a bit odd. She usually tries to tell what kind of casket she’d lick out for the traveler, what she’d dress them in, etc. Sometimes, she’ll bake “special cookies” in the shapes of bones just for them.

Jean

Much like Barbara, Jean sees the traveler as a blessing. However, unlike Barbara, Jean doesn't swoon over their looks or mannerisms; frankly, she's just glad that someone rational is willing to help and not make too much of a commotion (like some certain members of the Knights of Favonius).

Kazuha

Has feelings for the traveler and makes no effort to hide them. Often times Kazuha will write them poems or haikus; sometimes he'll add dried flowers or a pretty leaf. He truly has a way with words, and it never fails to stir something inside the traveler's chest. He's very gentle and mild-mannered, so he never forces anything too heavy on them.

Kaeya

Kaeya is a humongous flirt and everyone knows it. However, he seems even more so once the traveler is in the picture, and he has the tendency of showing off in some sort of way. He knows he's attractive and uses his looks to advantage whenever he can, though he makes sure to keep it somewhat subtle.

Keqing

Keqing isn’t the type to deal with people’s shit and isn’t fond of fools. Fortunately, the traveler doesn’t fall into either of those categories, so she gets along with them quite well. She can find similarities in their personalities (like working constantly), so she appreciates the fact that she can openly discuss these sort of problems with them.

Klee

Genuinely sees them as an older sibling! Klee often goes to them for advice or to spend the day together; often times, she'll send letters or drawings whenever they're apart (and yes, the drawings usually consist of her and the traveler blowing something up).

Lisa

Another flirt, no problems asked. Lisa makes euphemisms quite a bit, and it truly brings her joy when her comments make the traveler blush. Despite being scolded by Jean to tone it down a bit, she genuinely can't help it. The traveler is her personal cutie, and it's only natural for her to treat them as such, isn't it?

Mona

She could easily tell right away that the traveler was someone special upon first glance. Mona sometimes dreams about them - especially about how they helped her out and landed her a place to stay in Mondstadt. She’s grateful for everything that the traveler has done, yet she’ll deny any feelings for them with a bright blush on her face.

Ningguang

The traveler is seen more as a pet. Ningguang is straight up the sugar mama type, and she openly flaunts it. Granted, she respects the traveler highly, but something about their being Liyue’s hero sounds very, very charming. Whether or not she makes a romantic move is entirely up to her, but it’s not out of the question.

Noelle

Needless to say, Noelle gets flustered fairly easily, so whenever the traveler shows affection and support towards her abilities, she somewhat short-circuits. She'll usually try to play off the fluttering in her heart and simply convince herself that the traveler is only being nice, but she can't deny the fact that she has feelings for them.

Qiqi

Another one that looks up to the traveler as an older sibling. She often refers to her notebook to remind herself as to why she likes them so much; they’re patient with her and genuinely try to help her remember things, plus they’ll bring her candies from Mondstadt sometimes.

Razor

Razor has no idea what romantic feelings are or how he should identify them. All he knows is that he gets excited whenever he sees the traveler, and his metaphorical tail wags furiously. He's keen on protecting them and bringing them food, plus he likes to lie next to them when they relax by the fire.

Rosaria

Like Diluc, Rosaria likes how the traveler isn’t full of shit and can actually put up a decent fight. However, she isn’t the type to compliment them, but rather points out how they can further hone their skills. If anything, she acts more like the traveler’s drunk aunt.

Sayu

She’s mostly indifferent towards the traveler, but - like with most people - she envies their height. Sayu appreciates that they don’t make fun of her size, plus they somehow always manage to find her when she’s hiding for her nap, so she’s fairly interested in what kind of person they are.

Sucrose

Like with most people, Sucrose is quite shy around the traveler, but for some reason she feels more comfortable around them than anyone else. She respects them much like she respects Albedo. She also thinks the traveler has a very nice smile.

Thoma

Thoma is another flirt, but he’s much more reserved in his ways. He’ll often make encouraging comments or flatter the traveler with a bright smile. His flirting either makes the traveler blush or it goes right over their head. There is no in between.

Venti

Venti has a slight... obsession for them. Not in a creepy way, but more in a clingy sense. He practically hangs from them whenever he's messing around, and he unashamedly writes them songs. Venti is also a big fan of hugs! When he's drunk, though, that's when things take a darker, more seductive turn...

Xiangling

Xiangling’s poor little heart goes doki doki whenever she gets to cook for the traveler, have them cook with her, or eat a meal that they prepared. The way to her heart is definitely through her stomach! It’s a fairly small crush since cooking is her true love in life, but if the traveler pops up at Wanmin Restaurant and specifically asks for her again… Oh boy.

Xiao

Secretly has feelings for the traveler, but he refuses to admit it. Xiao thinks feelings like these are a waste of time and only bring pain; since he's been through much and the ultimate emo, he's even more emotionally constipated than the normal person. Although he doesn't outright say it, he'll often show his affection through actions.

Xingqiu

Two words: library dates. Whether if it's meant to be romantic or not, Xingqiu has an affinity for those who show genuine intelligence and is willing to discuss stories with him. Xingqiu could literally sit there all day and listen to the traveler tell him about the different worlds he's been to. It's quite refreshing!

Xinyan

Like Venti, Xinyan will write songs for the traveler, but she's more timid about showing them since rock music has yet a long way to go in Liyue, much less in Teyvat. She'll casually invite them for a jam session and ask for their opinion on how her songs sound. All in all, she thinks the traveler is pretty rad ���

Yanfei

Yanfei is very skilled and knowledgeable in a wide range of topics, but when it comes to the art of seduction… not so much. She isn’t entirely sure if she has affections towards the traveler or not, but she enjoys being in their company nonetheless. However… she may or may not have tried to teach them Liyue law while over tea 😅

Yoimiya

Thinks the traveler is a lot of fun! She was already interested by the mere fact that they were an outsider, but once they showed their worth and came to her aid, it really sealed the deal. Viewing fireworks with them was an incredibly crucial moment, and she’ll keep that memory stored in her heart for all time.

Zhongli

Zhongli is very protective of them and wants to spoil them, but at the same time, he's also very, very broke. It's not sugar daddy status, obviously, but he enjoys treating them out to a dinner or a night on the town. The traveler thinks he's doing it just to be nice, but Paimon calls bullshit.

[lexsssu]

𝑃𝑟𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 (𝑍ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑖) - 𝐿𝑖𝑢̀

Ao3 ver.

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Next

Zhongli was...acting kind of weird today.

“Such a pretty little mate...so soft...so small...” 

He...was purring? At least you thought so as his thick arms encircled themselves around your body in order to cage you against his. An act that quite frankly almost gave you a heart attack, because you haven’t even gotten the courage to express your pathetic attraction to the man who was honestly way above your league. 

A shiver crawled down your spine as the heat of his warm breath hit the nape of your neck, his strong nose pressing against the skin as he seemingly inhaled lungfuls of your scent.

You probably smelled weird right now because your body decided it was a great time to perspire due to the extreme nervousness you felt at the moment. Archon’s above, you should have spritzed some Fate’s Yearning before you left home—

“You smell so good...Practically ripe for the picking…” 

“T-Thank you…?”

Your meek and confused reply didn’t deter the man in the slightest, but rather seemed to egg him on even more. One of Zhongli’s large hands cupped your full cheek in order to turn your face firmly yet gently towards him until your lips were only a few centimeters apart.

He was so close that you could see even the minute details in his eyes. How the normally bright shade of amber had darkened considerably while his irises seemed almost elliptical in shape, but you supposed that was probably just a trick of the light.

“It’s such a shame that HE hadn’t allowed me the chance to meet you until now...Not that it was his idea to let me out in the first place…” Mumbled Zhongli(?) as he lifted up a strand of your wayward hair and rubbed it gently between two of his gloved fingers. “Such a stingy man he is...preventing the haughty one and I from introducing ourselves to our intended.”

“However, since he’s not here right now then allow me to become fully acquainted with you…”

Dazed and so very confused at how bizarre Zhongli(?) was acting, you have no time to anticipate any of his following actions. 

Zhongli(?) or well, Morax to be specific, kissed you right on your lips.

And it wasn’t a chaste one by any means.

Never did you expect to have your first kiss (because you were sadly a hermit who’d never had any prior relationships with anyone), especially your first kiss with the man who’d captured your heart (and who deserved someone a lot better than the awkward mess that you were) to take place today...or well, ever if you were being honest.

Thanks to your inexperience and shyness, you could only allow the taller man to take the lead which he happily did so. Your lips were kissed, licked, and bitten until they shone with a glossy sheen and your face looked as if it had been splashed with a bright blush. He took your breath away both literally and figuratively until your legs buckled and could no longer support your weight, but the arm around your waist was more than enough to keep you upright. The thickly corded muscles beneath the expensive clothing he wore made themselves known as they pressed against the softness of your flesh.

“You taste as sweet as you smell...Makes me wonder what the rest of you tastes like…” Zhongli’s(?) chest rumbled in approval, “Though I cannot mate you fully yet...I suppose a taste shall suffice in the meantime. Just to tide me over until the right time arrives.”

None of his words made any sense to you had you been in your normal state of mind, but thanks to his addictively intoxicating kisses even the tiny logical part of your brain has decided to take a leave of absence. You could only lean your head against the funeral consultant’s wide and sturdy chest, not trusting yourself in the slightest of being capable of standing on your own. 

Meanwhile, Morax who was currently in control of their mortal body could barely contain the raging rush of emotions within. Feelings of desire, affection, protectiveness, and so many more surged and fought to be the one who will be acted upon.

For him as the aspect of war within the Lord of Geo, such softness was alien when hostility and strife was his bread and butter back during the age of gods who all fought one another for supremacy. This softness...is unusual but not unwelcome.

“What was he thinking when he decided to take his sweet time before even expressing his intent to mate you?” He growled irritatedly, cursing Zhongli for being the reason they all had to hold themselves back.

“If he still hasn’t mated you soon enough or at least began courting you, then perhaps I can—”

“Hey, Zhongli! Why’d you run off all of a sudden like that?!” Shouted a very familiar floating fairy with her very tired otherworldly companion. “You suddenly ran away after drinking that weird potion we got from the salesman at the teapot!”

The original Lord of Geo huffed, ignoring the newcomers who interrupted him and opting to continue embracing you instead. Morax has to enjoy these last few moments left with you before HE wakes up again and takes the reins back.

“Let’s just hope he actually finally makes a move this time or else…”

[allisondraste]

Death and Other Things That Should Have Been Fatal

Fandom: Mass Effect

Pairing: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian

Word Count: 4715

Summary: A follow up to Cockroaches and Other Things That Just Keep Living, Shepard wakes up after destroying the Reapers and copes with the fallout. Thankfully, she doesn't have to do so alone.

[Click Here for AO3]

“Shepard?”

The voice was little more than static in her ear, jarring her back into excruciating consciousness, head throbbing, extremities numb.  Spears of pain coursed through her chest with each and every breath, and she didn’t know whether it was the several broken ribs or the sight of Anderson's lifeless body slouched next to her.  She tore her gaze away from the closest thing she’d ever had to a good father figure, eyes fluttering closed as she attempted to focus only on the person speaking to her.

“Garrus?”  His was the first name that rolled off her tongue, the only person in the galaxy she wanted that disembodied voice to be.

“No.” Came the stern reply.  There was a long pause as any hope for comfort in her final moments came crashing down around her.  Then the voice spoke again. “It’s Hackett.”

A jolt of resentment toward the Admiral coursed through her at his introduction.  What more could he possibly want from her?  Had she not already done enough, sacrificed enough for just a ghost of a chance to stop the reapers.  Surely someone else could take it from there.  Why did everything fall on her?

Because someone else would have gotten it wrong.

She shook herself out of her head and back to the present. She would have been mortified under normal circumstances, but she couldn’t bring herself to give a damn now. “I apologize sir, I’m— What do you need me to do?”

“The Crucible is docked, but is not activated,” he explained, “We think there’s something that needs to be done on your end.  Is there a trigger? Some sort of terminal?”

His words clung to the air around her, and her eyes locked onto the terminal the Illusive Man had used earlier.  It was just a few feet in front of her and still so far away. She tried and failed to bring herself to her feet, legs buckling beneath her and sending her plummeting to the floor.  Hot tears burned in her eyes as a new array of pain shot through her body, and she groaned in agony.

“Shepard?”

“I’m here, sir,” she growled, forcing herself up onto an elbow and dragging her body to the terminal, vision beginning to blur at the corners.. Not yet , she pleaded with her consciousness as she reached up toward the terminal, hand sweeping clumsily across the haptic display. Not. Yet.   “I’m at the terminal but I… I don’t— I can’t find—”

Her vision went dark, supporting arm trembling and giving out as her consciousness faded.  Hackett’s voice called out to her repeatedly, further and further away until it was gone entirely.

She awoke to bright, burning light, buzzing in her ears, sensations anyone else would have associated with death.  But Shepard had been dead before, and this was nothing like the last time.  She’d never forget that dark, quiet empty.

“Shepard,” shouted a voice, both familiar and foreign, “Wake up.”

“What?” Blood dripped into her eyes from a wound she couldn’t feel. “Where am I?”

She scrubbed her face with the back of her hand, blinking until her vision cleared.  Her body screamed in protest as she rose to her knees, louder still as she brought herself to her feet and searched for who—or what— had spoken to her.

“The Citadel,” came the reply, “It is my home.”

She snapped her head in the direction of the voice, it’s owner a glowing, translucent entity in the shape of a ghost.  Her heart slammed against her aching ribs, and a name rushed to her mouth before she could stop it. “Kaidan?”

The entity examined her for a moment that felt more like an eternity, long enough for her initial relief to fade, consumed by dread as she awaited its answer.

“No,” it stated in a cold, matter-of-fact way Kaidan could never have managed, “I am the Catalyst.”

Rage ignited in her stomach and chest at the sound of him twisted and distorted by a chorus of synthetic echoes, and she growled. “I thought the Citadel was the Catalyst.”

“The Citadel is part of me,” it explained, then paused, tilting its head in examination of her again, “My appearance disturbs you.”

Shepard let out a derisive snort. “Yeah. You could say that.”

“I apologize,” it said, “I chose a form that I believed would help us communicate. You had fond memories of this one.”

“Too fond.”  She looked down, unable to meet its vacant eyes. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“Is this one more suitable?”  It’s voice shifted registers and when she glanced up Thane stood before her.

Hot tears burned in her eyes but she held them back and shook her head. “No.”

“Perhaps you would prefer this?” This time it’s tone was higher pitched, clipped.  Mordin.

“No,” she spat through clenched teeth, “I’d prefer if you’d just pick a nightmare and tell me whether you can help me or not. ”

“Very well,” it said, Kaidan once again as it motioned for her to follow after it toward the beam of light before them. “Perhaps we can help each other.”

She limped after it, listening as it spoke, as it explained its creation, it’s function, the purpose for its very existence.  It was nothing the Leviathan had not already revealed to her, but spun in a way that painted the Reapers as innocent pawns simply fulfilling their duty, wiping out entire civilizations to ensure galactic balance, to protect organic life from its own chaos.

Bullshit , she thought as flashes of destruction played behind her eyelids with each laborious blink.  She remembered the sinking void in her gut as she fled Earth, watching it burn beneath Reaper hands.  She thought of Palaven, the harrowed Turian faces as their military and government collapsed, the anger and disbelief that vibrated in Garrus’ voice and beneath his skin. She recalled Thessia, the most advanced civilization in the galaxy reduced to rubble before her eyes and she, helpless to even salvage one artifact, Liara’s anguished sobs as she trembled in her arms.

The Catalyst and its Reapers were responsible for every lost colony in Batarian space that Shepard had shouldered instead.  Every single face on the memorial wall at the Citadel, every orphaned child and refugee, every life touched by this goddamn war, and the lives of those in every cycle that came before— it was all their fault.  They had corrupted and indoctrinated some of the greatest minds of her time, broken some of the strongest wills.  She wondered what had been said to convince Saren and Benezia. What had the Catalyst become to take hold of The Illusive Man?

The echoes of Sovereign’s boasts of supremacy and Harbinger’s threats of annihilation rang out in her ears as clear as the days they’d been spoken. And this entity, this artificial intelligence with the power and capability to stop it all, expected her to believe they were simply creatures bound to a purpose. The Catalyst truly believed she would help it achieve its pinnacle of evolution.

No, just because it was in a shark’s nature to eat her, did not mean she would allow it to do so. Despite the original intent behind their creations, the Reapers were monsters, and they had to be stopped. The galaxy deserved justice. She took one lumbering step toward the trigger on the right, one step closer to settling things once and for all.

“It will happen again,” the Catalyst called after her, “Machines will be rebuilt, and chaos will continue. Organics and synthetics cannot coexist separately.

“That’s…not true,” she grunted, and took another step, “The geth and the quarians have brokered peace.”

“It will not last.”

“You don’t know that,” she shouted, fists clenched at her sides, “The beauty of chaos is that you can’t know that.”

The entity fell silent, briefly considering what she said, then continued. “Perhaps not; however if you choose to destroy the Reapers, the geth will be destroyed as well. The two will not have the opportunity to disprove your hypothesis.”

A pang of guilt pierced her and she halted in her tracks.“All of them?”

“Yes.  The Crucible’s beam is powerful but unfocused.  It will be unable to distinguish between Reaper technology and other forms of synthetic life.”

Another pang of guilt as realization dawned on her. That meant EDI would die, too. Someone who was every bit a friend and member of her crew as anyone else, someone who had put herself on the line multiple times to protect Shepard, to make certain she could get the job done.  EDI, who confessed just before the battle that she finally felt alive. Now, Shepard was forced to weigh her newfound life and the newfound intelligence of the geth race, against the destruction of the Reapers.

What was it Garrus had called it? Ruthless calculus, that brutal math that awaited anyone who spent enough time at war.  Shepard had done plenty of those calculations, had made more than her fair share of difficult decisions, and she’d dealt with the consequences, good and bad.

This time, it was different, more final.  And she was entirely alone.  The future of the galaxy lay upon her weary back, and she was far past the point of compromise.

Shepard wanted the Reapers to pay for what they had done for millennia, wanted to watch them disintegrate in space as the cheers of her fleet rang out over the comms.  She wanted to know with certainty that the war was over.

More than anything, however, and most heavy on her mind,  she wanted to survive. It was a potent wave of selfishness that overwhelmed her as she thought of her friends back on the Normandy, of the relationships she’d forged and that had forged her.  Her heart ached at the thought of never seeing them again, never hearing their voices. She was sick at the possibility that her last moments with those who had carried her through every storm were hurried and spent in a war torn camp on Earth.

Knowing that they were worried and waiting for her to return, remembering Garrus’ desperate plea that she come back alive, it was more than she needed to motivate her to do so.  For the first time in her three decades of life, she had something to go home to. She had given so much of herself to save the galaxy, and she had more than earned the right to live in it.

There was no certainty that destroying the Reapers would ensure her survival, but it was the only choice without the certainty that she would die.  She was willing to take her chances. She had to. With a trembling arm she raised her pistol, aimed at the glass case guarding the trigger mechanism, and fired.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as the glass shattered and her vision faded to white. “I’m so sorry.”

Shepard had been dead enough times to know that sound always came first, the discomforting beeping of medical equipment and garbled chatter ringing out in the darkness as her nervous system attempted to orient itself. Smell and taste came next, a package deal.  This time the antiseptic and the metallic tang of blood barely masked the rank of burnt flesh.

Then the pain set in, dull but constant and everywhere, numbed only slightly by neural blockers and local anesthetic.  She did not need to see her injuries to know how serious they were, how fatal they should have been.  Yet there she lay, once again waking up from something that would have killed anyone else.

And she was alone.  Again.

She began to panic as her eyes opened to the empty, sterile room, setting off the many monitors she was hooked up to.  Her heart pounded violently, each breath she took sharp and shallow as she yanked herself free from the dozens of tubes and IVs constraining her. How long had she been out this time? What covert operation for which secret, extremist organization had found and resurrected her for their benefit? How much more could one galaxy ask of her?

There was a hiss of opening doors and an unfamiliar asari entered the room urgently, arms extended out in front of her.  In one breath she reassured Shepard that everything was going to be all right  and in the next called for a medical restraint, a sedative.  She stepped slowly toward Shepard as one would approach a frightened, feral animal, and two more uniformed aliens entered the room.  Shepard stood tall, despite the ache in her bones and glared at the three of them.

“Ma’am, I know you must be very disoriented right now, and I am happy to answer any and all of your questions,” the asari said, holding her hands up, “But you are in no shape to be out of bed.  I need you to calm down before you hurt yourself further.”

Shepard glanced from the asari to the two salarians on either side of her.  They all wore generic attire that was standard for medical professionals across the galaxy, but their uniforms had no indication of their names or who they worked for.  She crossed her arms and winced through the pain as she argued. “How about you start by telling me where I am, then I’ll decide if I want to calm down or not.”

Just as she finished speaking the doors opened again, this time to faces she knew, and the subsequent wave of relief that washed over her nearly knocked her back into the bed on it’s own.  On the right stood Dr. Michel, who she remembered helping out on several occasions during the Reaper War.  A bit sweet on Garrus, if she remembered correctly. On the left, wearing a smirk and a raised eyebrow, was none other than Miranda Lawson.

“Sit down, Shepard,” Miranda asserted in her trademark tone.  She flashed the hint of a smile and continued, “The residents aren’t being paid enough for you to harass them.”

Shepard’s eyes flicked over to the three aliens who’d been tending to her just moments before.  They were now speaking nervously with the doctor, who muttered something about tests they needed to run followed by some other medical jargon that Shepard couldn’t decipher.  She did as her friend directed and eased herself back down onto her bed, offering a sheepish grin as she did so. “I feel like such an ass.”

“Don’t,” Dr. Michel chimed in as she approached the bed, and began to scan Shepard with her omni-tool, “You have been in a coma for almost a month.  It was expected that you would be agitated when you awoke, especially considering everything you’ve been through.”

Shepard’s chest swelled with something like gratitude.  A month .  She’d only been out for a month, and she had woken up in what she could now tell was Huerta Memorial under the care of a physician she trusted and one of her closest friends.  This was nothing like the last time she died. She looked up at Miranda and asked,“Had to put me back together again, I see?”

“I only helped this time,” Miranda explained as she worked to reconnect some of the IVs Shepard had ripped out, “Dr. Michel contacted me a few weeks ago for a consultation about your cybernetic augmentation.  I was already on the Citadel, so I came in person to oversee the repairs.”

“Is everything working?”

“Mostly,” Miranda shrugged, “Not quite up to specifications, but your injuries are still healing. With time, you should be fine.”

“And hopefully far away from any more life-threatening battles, yes,” remarked Michel, moving to a terminal near the wall and transferring data collected from her omni-tool scans.

Shepard let out a huff, and let herself recline onto the bed, walls crumbling away at the comforting conversation.  She took a breath and let her eyes flutter closed for just a minute, and said, “If I can. If the galaxy will let me.”

“The galaxy’s going to have to,” announced an unmistakable voice from the door, and Shepard bolted upright to face it.  To face him .

She hadn’t even heard the door open, and yet there stood her turian, with all that easy confidence he’d always carried himself with and a bouquet of indistinguishable gift shop flowers in each hand.  Her pulse jumped, a fact the vitals monitor in the corner was quick to inform her and everyone in the room about. She would never live that one down.

“Garrus!”

“Is that cardiac arrest—“ he motioned toward the screen with one of the bouquets— “Or, uh… are you just happy to see me?”

Shepard just rolled her eyes, unable to stop the grin that twitched at the corners of her mouth as he sauntered up to the bedside.

“I wasn’t sure which you’d like better,” Garrus explained, glancing with uncertainty between the flowers in each hand, “So I got both.  There’s also some chocolate and a few books of hanar poetry back at the gift shop if you just absolutely hate the flowers. I can run back down and—“

She laughed and shook her head at him. “They’re perfect.”

“Are you sure?” He examined each bouquet again.  “You might need the poetry to bore you back into a coma.”

“I thought that anthology was quite beautiful and romantic, myself,” Michel remarked, amused.  She approached Shepard again and administered something that relieved the throbbing pain in her head she’d barely noticed in all the commotion. “There, that should keep you comfortable for a time. I will come and check on you in a  few hours ”

“I’ll be going as well,” Miranda said, eyeing Shepard and Garrus knowingly. “Call me if you need anything.”

She turned to follow the doctor out of the room but stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Oh, and Shepard?  I’m glad we got to see each other again “

Shepard nodded. “So am I.”

With that Miranda left the room, the door sliding shut behind her.  Shepard turned her gaze up to Garrus who was already looking at her, pale eyes scanning every inch of her face intently.  His mandibles twitched and flared in the very specific way they always did when he was agitated or worried.  He shook his head, discarded both bundles of flowers onto the nearby bedside table, and sat down on the edge of the bed next to her, staring off at the wall in silence.

“Shepard I— I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up,” he said finally, turning to look at her and placing a hand on her leg, “I’d just gone to get some air…I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“It’s okay,” she reassured him, reaching for his hand and wondering just how many sleepless hours he’d sat by her bed waiting for her to come to. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers, lingering there for several long moments.  She brought a hand up to trace the rough ridges of scarring along the right side of his face.  His eyes fluttered closed at the touch, and he let out a heavy sigh, as if she’d lifted some invisible weight off of him with just the tips of her fingers.

“You know,” she spoke up, breaking the powerful silence between them, “I think I finally have some scars that’ll give you a run for your credits.”

Garrus laughed, but it was quiet—almost sad— and he pulled back to examine her.

“How bad is it,” she asked, “There aren’t any mirrors in here.”

He laughed again, this time with more enthusiasm. “Hell, Shepard, I don’t know. You always were ugly, so it’s hard for me to say.”

“Okay,” she admitted with a smirk, “I had that one coming.”

The room went quiet again, with the exception of the buzzing and whirring of the equipment around them.  It wasn’t uncomfortable, though— nothing had ever been uncomfortable with Garrus— but it was heavy with unspoken pain and unasked questions for which Shepard wasn’t sure she wanted answers.

“How’s everyone else,” she ventured.

“Recovering,” he answered with a sigh, “Joker tried to outrun the blast, but even the Normandy wasn’t quick enough.  Crash landed on some human colony world. Everyone made it except—“

“EDI,” she said, name bitter on her tongue. She’d hoped the catalyst had been lying about the Crucible’s effect on synthetic life.

“Yes… how did you—“

This time, she was not able to dam up the wave of emotions that crashed into her.  Tears rushed to her eyes, shame and remorse tightening her chest like a vice. She was a soldier, and she knew that sacrifices won wars, but that did not make it any easier.

“It’s a long story,” she said with a sniff, looking away from him and attempting to wipe away the tears before he could see them, as if he hadn’t already.

“Well—” Garrus reached out and grabbed her chin, gently, giving it a tug until she brought her gaze back to him. “It’s a good thing I cleared my afternoon schedule, then. Tell me everything.”

And so she did. With a shaky voice, she recounted everything that happened from the time she called the evac for Garrus and Liara to the moment she was struck by the Crucible’s blast.  She told him about The Illusive Man, Anderson, the Catalyst who wore Kaidan’s face, and the impossible choice she was given.  He listened to every word, offered her his hand, and didn’t complain as her grip grew tighter and tighter with each devastating revelation.

When she was finished, eyes swollen and head throbbing, she looked at him and said, “I fucked up, Garrus. I had a chance to save EDI and the geth, but I just… couldn’t do it.  I was so angry and… scared , and—“

“Shepard,” Garrus interrupted her, laughing and shaking his head.

“What?”

“You’re about the only person I know who could save the whole damn galaxy and feel guilty because you didn’t save it better.”

“My life isn’t worth more than EDI’s was, and it definitely isn’t more important than the entire geth race,” Shepard argued.

Garrus blinked back at her a few times, then responded.  “It is to me.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but the words didn’t come, so she clamped it shut and frowned.  Her entire argument fell apart in the wake of his blunt confession. How the hell was she supposed to respond to something like that?

“It was selfish,” she finally managed past the lump in her throat, “It was genocide.”

“Maybe,” he answered, firmly, “Maybe not. We have no way of knowing that anything the Catalyst told you was true.”

“Why would it lie?”

“I don’t know, maybe to save it’s own ass?”  His words were pointed but not directed to her.  “It was clearly trying to get in your head, Shepard, using Alenko like that.”

“But—”

“No,” he snapped, “You made the right call, and no one is going to fault you for it except you.”

“ Garrus …” she began, but trailed off when she noticed him looking down at their intertwined fingers, shaking his head and seeming to struggle with his emotions.

When he spoke up, his voice was hoarse.  “You’ll forgive me if I say I don’t think you owe anyone—not EDI, not the geth, not the Alliance, not the rest of the galaxy— any more than you’ve already given.”

He paused for a beat, then added in a lighter tone, “Except me. You owe me a long retirement on your fancy Alliance pension.”

Shepard snorted out a laugh, despite everything, and reached up to take his face in her hands.  She pulled him closer to her, just so that she could press a kiss against the side of his mouth.

“I’ll think about it,” she whispered.

Just as they pulled apart, the door opened and they both turned to see who had entered. Dr. Michel stood at the threshold smiling at them apologetically.  “I am sorry for the interruption, but—”

“Someone tell Garrus to quit hogging the Commander,” complained an all too familiar voice as he pushed past the doctor and into the room. “The rest of us have been waiting just as long as he has.”

“Joker,” Shepard exclaimed, nearly jumping up out of the bed to greet him.

“The one and only,” he said proudly then held up a small plastic crate to show her, “And I brought you something.  Basically had to wrestle the Alliance brass for it when they declared you dead.”

“What—,” she asked as she squinted at the box, noticing movement in the corner, “Is that my hamster?”

He sat the container down carefully on the table next to the flowers Garrus had tossed aside,  “It’s not two bouquets of useless flowers or anything, but, well…you know.”

“We can’t all be as romantic as you,” Garrus said sarcastically as he stood up and stepped away from the bed, allowing the other man space to approach Shepard.

“Thank you, Joker,” Shepard said with a nod as she sat up in the bed, “And about EDI, I—“

He cut her off with the shake of his head, clearly not ready to discuss it. “Not your fault, Commander.”

Shepard just nodded, sorry, but not wanting to force the issue.  Joker puffed his chest out and saluted her, just as more commotion rang out from the door.  She darted her eyes across the room again to see the flood of other people pouring in from the hallway.

Ash was the first to rush to the bedside, throwing appropriate Alliance protocol out the window as she threw her arms unceremoniously around Shepard.  The embrace was firm, but not so forceful that it caused her aching body any extra pain, and when Ash pulled away, Shepard could see the tears glistening in her eyes. She stiffened up and saluted just as Joker had done, and said “Ma’am.”

Much to Shepard’s surprise, Ash then approached Garrus and embraced him briefly as well, pulling away and then giving him a pat on the arm.

The others followed suit after that, offering words of gratitude that she had saved the galaxy, and relief that she’d managed to pull through.  Tali and Liara had followed Ash’s example and hugged her.  The others didn’t but greeted her with enthusiasm all the same.  Vega mentioned how “epic” it was when the fleet realized she’d made it to the Citadel and got the arms opened while Traynor and Cortez nodded along.  Javik, in his typical fashion stood quietly in the corner but nodded at her with a look of admiration she had yet to see from the Prothean.  Dr. Chakwas and the crew from engineering squeezed themselves in the now cramped space as well. Chakwas approached the bed and gave Shepard’s hand a firm squeeze.

Humbling was not a strong enough word to describe the experience of seeing everyone who’d been on the Normandy with her in that final journey to Earth gathered around celebrating her survival.  They had all meant so much to her, and only now did she realize that she’d meant the same to them.

She’d grown accustomed to being a sole survivor, watching her own back and carrying on alone with each of her mistakes strapped to her shoulders.  She was used to blaming herself with the voices of those she lost, of nightmares and flashbacks and consoling herself back to sleep in the middle of the night.  She had trained herself to be numb because she could not bear feeling guilty.

Now, she didn’t have to.  For the first time in as long as she could remember, she had people who cared about her, people who she trusted, and they had survived. For the first time, she wasn’t alone with her grief and she didn’t have to be numb.  She had friends who would hold her together while she sorted herself out, just as she had done for each and every one of them.

“You okay,” Garrus asked as he approached the bedside again, letting a hand tousle her hair gently before falling to her shoulder.

“Yeah.” She nodded and glanced around the room slowly, taking it all in. “I really actually am.”

[vivianweasley]

Reason Why I Hate You (Fred Weasley X Reader)

Summary: You hated Fred Weasley, but you just didn’t know why. Maybe it was because there was some unfinished business between you two from a past life? past life au and a bit of enemies to lovers.

Prompt: this is for @slytherinsunrise‘s writing challenge and the prompt is Historical AU! Hope you guys would like it:)

Pairing: Fred Weasley X Fem!Reader

Warnings: murder, major character death, arranged marriage, terrible husband, reader’s family in past life is pureblood supremacist, sound of explosion (firework), angst in the past life, fluff in this life

Word Count: 2.2k

Special thanks to @valwritesx for giving me wonderful advices<3

Disclaimer: all the pictures in the moodboard are from Pinterest. Credit goes to the original owners.

Please do NOT repost or translate my work on another site without permission! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcome:)

It all began on an early autumn afternoon.

1815, an afternoon in September, Frederick Weasley just threw a water ball on his potions professor, and he was now hiding in a broom closet, waiting for his angry professor to go away.

But he heard footsteps approaching the door. Just when Fred was sure that detention is waiting for him, he saw a girl at the door.

“What are you doing-” before you could even finish your question, Fred pulled you into the broom closet, closed the door, and covered your mouth with his hand.

The space inside the broom closet was so limited that your bodies were pressed together now. You felt your face heating up, and your heart was racing. You should be furious. You should scold the man in front of you for being rude or even slap him for that, but you were just standing there stiffly, with your eyes wide opened.

There was another series of footsteps approaching the broom closet now, and you heard the potion professor yelling, “You’re dead if I catch you! Ten points from Gryffindor!”

After the sound of footsteps faded, Fred finally let go of you. You finally got the chance to step on his foot, causing him to jump in pain.

“I probably deserved that.” His hands were still rubbing his foot, but he didn’t forget to joke, “So, tell me, what brings you to the broom closet?”

You glared at him, “I was looking for my cat.”

He nodded, “I’m guessing that you are curious about what brings me here, to this broom closet, to meet with you.”

“Oh, I already know. You just threw a water ball on the potions professor, and now you are on the run.”

His face suddenly lit up, “So you just saw my work?” 

“Who doesn’t know about Frederick Weas-”

“It’s Fred.”

You glared at him and continued, “Who doesn’t know about Frederick Weasley’s shenanigans.” 

“So you already know my name!” He smiled, couldn’t hide the pride on his face, “May I have the honor to know yours?”

You rolled your eyes, “Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

He bowed a little and pretended to tip his imaginary hat, “Y/F/N Y/L/N, my pleasure.”

This man was frivolous, reckless, and didn’t respect any rules. You had all the reasons to hate him, but why was your heart beating so fast? You sighed, as you could already foresee a future that’s out of your control, “My displeasure.”

~

Like many romance novels from that period, the girl with a strict upbringing fell in love with the infamous troublemaker. You and Fred were very different people. You were like different sides of a coin, but this couldn’t affect the attraction between you two. Once the spark between you was ignited, there was no turning back. It was as if fate was pulling you together.

You decided to get married after graduating from Hogwarts, but your family forbade this marriage.

They said the Weasleys were blood traitors, and Frederick Weasley was nothing but an ignorant boy of ill-breeding. Your pureblood supremacist family could never give you their blessings. In fact, they already betrothed you to the youngest son of the Burkes, Ralph Burke.

You’ve met Ralph a few times. Not only did he believe in pureblood supremacy, but he also believed that women should do nothing but stay home and be a good wife.

Fred’s situation wasn’t too good as well. His family hated your family, and they wanted their son to marry the Johnson girl.

~

You and Fred met under a sycamore tree. He sounded desperate, “Let’s run away! Let’s run to a place where no one knows us. France, America, anywhere but here!”

You nodded. You didn’t want to care about how eloping would ruin your and your family’s reputation. These ridiculous rules controlled you all your life; it was time for you to finally do something reckless, something for yourself.

He let out a sigh of relief and held you tightly, “Three days later, I’ll wait for you under this sycamore tree at night. We will get married the next morning!”

~

After the longest three days in your life, you tiptoed around the house to make sure that everyone was asleep, and you started running as soon as you left the house. You only brought a small bag of galleons to help you survive the first few days and left everything else behind. 

You wanted nothing from your past. All you wanted was to start a new life that is carefree and full of choices you could make on your own. A life that you could spend with someone you love. 

But when you reached the sycamore tree, the person waiting for you wasn’t Fred, but Ralph.

Ralph’s face was emotionless when he told you that Fred already left the town two days ago because he was afraid. He was afraid of being tied down by you and being forced into another marriage by his family, so he ran away on his own.

You couldn’t believe it. You knew Fred loved freedom, but he was never someone who would break a promise. 

Ralph took you to the Weasleys, and Mrs. Weasley’s reaction confirmed everything as she yelled, “Where is my sweet Frederick? What did you do to him??”

So it was true. He ran away, without you. 

You felt lifeless as you collapsed. You couldn’t understand it. If he was so afraid of the restrictions that marriage brings, why would he even suggest eloping with you?

You felt deceived and betrayed. Anger and sorrow were clouding your reasons. You were willing to sacrifice everything for him. Your reputation, your family, the life you had, everything. But he still ran away without you. He left you behind.

You felt like a joke.

You felt hopeless.

~

Three months later, after still not hearing anything from Fred, you gave in to your family’s expectations and agreed to Ralph’s proposal.

You were locked up in the Burke Manor after becoming Ralph’s bride. Misery and resentment were the only things that kept you company in this cold cage that was shaped like a luxurious manor.

Finally, after two years of living in this agony, you closed your eyes forever.

You left this world still resenting Fred. You left without knowing that two years ago under that sycamore tree, he closed his eyes before you.

That night when you and Fred met at the tree for the last time, Ralph was there, too. After hearing that his fiancee was planning to run away with another man, a blood traitor, he couldn’t stand the humiliation. He confronted Fred, but Fred didn’t seem to care at all. Merlin, Ralph hated that smug smile of Fred.

Rage took over him, and he raised his wand at Fred. It was a simple death curse. Ralph took care of the crime scene calmly and returned home, pretending like nothing ever happened. 

And just like that, Fred disappeared. No one knew the truth. No one knew that until his last breath, he was still holding a wedding ring. The world only knew a coward called Frederick Weasley, who ran away on his own after promising forever to a poor girl.

~~~

September 1991, you were admitted to Hogwarts along with the famous Harry Potter. You soon became friends with Harry, Hermione, and Ron. And naturally, you also became friends with the other Weasley kids, except for one, Fred Weasley. 

You were even great friends with George, but there was something about him that warned you to stay away from him.

Fred was hurt, but he wasn’t too worried because he knew for sure that he could find a way to make you like him.

1995. You were having lunch with your friends at the Great Hall. It was a perfectly normal day until you saw a spark floating in front of you. And before you realized what it was, something exploded on top of your head. For a moment, you thought your heart was jumping out of your chest.

You looked up and saw fireworks exploding across the Great Hall and spelling out “Y/N Happy Birthday.” You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly who would come up with something dramatic like this. 

You also heard some people gasping and saying that they were jealous. But you weren’t happy with it at all. It not only almost scared your soul out of your body, but also made you feel embarrassed. 

You stood up and tried to run away, but you heard Snape’s voice, “Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Weasley, this is not a carnival. Detention.”

“Professor, it was all me. She has nothing to do with it!” Great, at least he’s not only a stupid git, but a chivalrous stupid git.

“Good. Ten more points from Gryffindor.”

The Gryffindor table soon started groaning, and you sighed. What kind of birthday gift is this?

~

After class, you and Fred were sent to the divination classroom to wipe all the crystal balls. You were sent here because Snape didn’t want to risk having Fred breaking all of his precious potion bottles. As of Trelawney’s crystal balls? Snape couldn’t care less.

Looking at the classroom that was filled with crystal balls, you sighed. What did you do to deserve this bloody simpleton in your life?

“Y/N, I’m sorry...” You could hear the guilt in his voice.

But you still replied bitterly, “Forget it. It was nothing. Who cares about spending birthday at Hogsmeade anyway, right?” You knew you shouldn’t be so passive-aggressive, but you just couldn’t put away the hostility towards him.

But Fred couldn’t take it anymore, “Why do you hate me so much? If it was something I did, I apologize. But you hated me from the very beginning. What the bloody hell did I do?”

“I-” You rolled your eyes. Isn’t it clear enough? You hated him because...Then it struck you. You didn’t know how to answer his question. Yes, you could say you hated him because he was reckless and pompous, but was this the real reason why you hated him? 

“I-I don’t know.” You lowered your head, feeling both defeated and confused. 

“Then could you at least try not to hate me that much?”

Guilt started rising in your stomach, but you didn’t want to admit your defeat, “Why do you care? There are so many others who love you.”

“I care because I fancy you!”

You were still dumbfounded and not sure how to react, but you heard a cough behind you. You and Fred turned together and saw Trelawney.

Except now, her eyes were rolled back, and she started speaking in a hoarse, guttural voice, “180 years later, the star-crossed lovers meet again...One with regret... and one with resentment...On this fateful day...destiny ties them back together once again...”

And then she coughed again and returned to her usual self, “Oh, that was embarrassing. What was I doing here again..Oh right! You two can leave now. I don’t need cleaning here.”

“But Professor Trelawney, Professor Snape said...”

“Oh don’t worry dear, I already told him. You two are good to go!” Trelawney thought back on how scared she was when Snape told her that Fred Weasley was cleaning her classroom. She came here as fast as she could and was relieved when she saw all the crystal balls were still intact. 

~

“Do you think Trelawney was talking about us?” Fred asked after you two left the classroom.

“When did you start to believe in that?” You sounded nonchalant, but deep down, you always believed that Trelawney was actually excellent at divination, so you started panicking after hearing that oracle.

Fred ignored your question, “What did she say? One with resentment? That sounds like you.”

“And you’re the one with regret? Do you even know what regret feels like?”

“Yea! I regret that I did make a great impression. I regret that...I didn’t make you fancy me like I fancy you!”

“You are hopeless, Frederick Weasley. Stop saying that if you don’t mean it!” You were angry. Does he even know that he shouldn’t say something like that? What if people took it seriously? But knowing how frivolous he was, he probably said that to everyone. So why were you still blushing? The more you thought about it, the angrier you got, so you decided to walk faster to get rid of him.

But Fred kept up and stopped you, “But I’m serious. I mean it.”

He looked so sincere when his warm brown eyes met yours, making your heart skip a beat. You stuttered, “F-fine...then I guess I...don’t hate you either...”

“Great! That’s some progress!” He grinned, “You know, if we start running now, we might still have time to go to Hogsmeade.”

You raised your eyebrows and he continued, “If I could make up for your birthday, would you go on a date with me?”

“I... could consider that.” Your face was heating up, but you started walking faster again so he won’t see how flustered you were.

But of course, he kept up again. “Why are you always calling me Frederick?”

“I don’t know. It just appeared in my head. Plus, I feel like you hate it.”

“I do. It sounds sad.”

“Who knows, maybe it’s your name in your past life,” you joked.

“Then I’m pretty sure I hated it in my past life, too,” he shrugged, “Whatever, this life is all that matters now.”

You didn’t reply as you looked at him. He was smiling at you, and at this moment, you knew your future was going to change, in a good way this time.

~

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[elladories]

hq boys reacting to u falling asleep against them

warnings: none !!

characters: akaashi, tendou, iwaizumi, oikawa

a/n: hiii,, <3 this is my first time writing on tumblr after a year of inactivity HAHA i'm putting together some writing scraps from my old writing blogs!! hopefully this can just be a place where i can dump my thoughts

requests status: open <3

^__^ akaashi:

- oh god he's freaking out help this poor kid

- its very late and akaashi is riding the bus with u back to the part of the city where u live after an exhausting study date

- u put ur head against this shoulder to catch up on some sleep and at first he doesn't notice, but after a while he glances over and sees ur sleeping expression

- flustered for a good second but chuckles to himself after he realizes ur actually asleep and not faking it

- he doesn't think of it as much on the outside but on the inside his heart is going brrrrrrrr

- the sunset and sunlight is peeking into the bus windows and u look like an angel to him <3

- i headcanon akaashi's love language to be physical touch and quality time,, so rest assured this moment between the two of u will exist in his head for a long time

- ur so cute and sleepy and akaashi just wants to put u in his pocket and protect u from the world

- he's super soft knowing that ur comfortable around him enough to actually lean onto him

- eventually i think he'd just put down whatever he was doing to occupy himself on the train ride and rest his head against urs!!!

- little kisses against ur hairline and forehead, he nudges his nose against ur skin to wake u up when u arrive to your stop

- after it happens he probably brushes it off but lowkey he hopes it'll happen again soon <3

^__^ tendou:

- u were spending the night at tendou's house to watch some new movies,, it was super late and u were sleepy (ur literally dating a ball of sunshine it probably gets exhausting seeing him filled with energy all the time)

- ur watching movies on his sofa and there's candy and snacks everywhere omg

- it was a quiet part in the movie with primarily dialogue and tendou was entirely immersed in the story plot- not even realizing u had tucked urself into him and fallen asleep

- "hm? what's this?"

- at first he pays no attention to your sleeping form and keeps watching the movie,, he's super glad you're getting some sleep though <3

- after a while he turns the movie off and settles you against him more comfortably, his arms find themselves around your waist and now he's just big spooning the heck outta you

- he's super warm and comfy and he reaches over to grab a blanket and throw it over the two of you

- tendou isn't sleeping but more so just closing his eyes and resting!! he traces little shapes onto your skin

- something tells me he'd try and copy your breathing pattern but then accidentally end up choking HELP

- he's humming quietly and really takes the time to admire you because he thinks you're the prettiest in the world <3

^__^ iwaizumi:

- after practice he's pretty grumpy from dealing with his team mates (primarily oikawa /j /lh) and he gets clingy <3

- so now you are both at home in bed spending some time together before he decides to call it a night

-his head his snuggled into your chest (i believe in iwaizumi little spoon supremacy idc /lh) and he's telling you about his day

- he's rambling about school and practice and he waits for you to hum in acknowledgement, but it never comes

- iwaizumi looks up at you a little confused but his expression immediately softens at the sight of you sleeping

- "you idiot..." he mumbles and nuzzles into your chest warmly, finding comfort in your touch

- this kid is a tsundere PLS!!! he acts like he doesn't care that you've fallen asleep but is actually really blushy

- he's kinda just resting there like tendou, not asleep but not really entirely awake

- the sound of ur breathing nearly puts him asleep, and iwaizumi really takes a moment to realize how vulnerable he is in front of u

- he trusts u with his everything (regardless if he shows you he does or not) and little intimate moments like these make him really happy inside <3

- take it as a sign that he yearns for ur touch but simply doesn't know how to ask for it

^__^ oikawa: - ur both coming back from a party and he's got u on his back in a piggyback ride

- ur super exhausted and your arms go limp around his neck and boom,, ur asleep against the third year

- at first he gets cocky as hell LMAO

- "gosh, y/n-chan don't drool on me!" he's teasing you ofc but it's not like you can bonk his head because you're dead asleep on his back

- he's actually really happy you've fallen asleep against him,,, he's a sucker for intimacy and physical touch!!

- for the rest of the walk he's probably just talking to himself or singing to a little tune

- when you guys get home he carries you upstairs into your shared bed!!!

- helps you change out of your party attire and helps wipe your makeup off before putting you to bed

- king of looking after u omg yeah so true

- he takes a shower and comes back out with his hair wet (foams at the mouth /pos) and ur sitting up in bed making grabby hands at him

- he knows you can't sleep without him so he settles in bed with u and gives u little kisses before u fall fast asleep next to him <3

[lazysublimeengineer]

Umbrella Man

Summary: “My umbrella.” He intoned in a placid voice.

“Huh? Oh. H-here you go.” Takemichi stammered as he handed the umbrella to him, inwardly cursing himself for being a stuttering mess.

“I don’t wanna get wet.” Senju replied in a matter of fact voice as he studied silently the young, nervous man in front of him.

—Or how Takemichi is being a hotshot in the eyes of the other deities and wants to recruit him but Senju won’t let them get their hands off of this former 1st Division Captain of Toman and wants him to get him on his gang even if he has to be the one getting out of the shadows and recruit him himself.

Characters: Senju K., Takemichi H., Akashi T.

“I’m not here to deal with Rokuhara Tandai! The one I want to deal is…Hanagaki Takemichi! I’ve come to scout you.” Akashi announced with a confident smile on his face.

“M-me? Why me?” A look of surprised and incredulity crossed Takemichi’s youthful yet expressive face.

Takemichi had just been shot by Mikey three times earlier before he time leapt into the past. And now he just landed into the fray unexpectedly with the former Tenjiku members! Recruiting him out of nowhere? The worst generation were all assembled here! From this point forward, maybe shock and surprise should now be on his default facial expression on his face as the unexpected events kept ploughing directly at him. He already gave up questioning on why Kaku-chan was here as well.

He can’t really catch a break, does he?

With the addition of dangerous people and the onslaught of tension right now, a war was definitely going to break out on this place.

Nevertheless, Takemichi could only gaped and sport an awestruck expression on his face on the next turn of events as an umbrella suddenly flew towards Terano all of sudden to which where he barely managed to dodge it but a kick landed on the side of his face afterwards that knocked the wind out of him.

The umbrella fell down into the ground unceremoniously afterwards before a person shrouded in a thick hoodie landed gracefully in front of him. Under a close observation, it was a glimpse of a young man with a lithe frame and possessed a short yet wavy locks that seemed to defy the gravity upon taking down his hoodie to reveal his face. His thick, long eyelashes brought out the intensity and shape of his deep set of eyes that were trained on Takemichi’s frame.

Takemichi swallowed thickly as he could feel his penetrating gaze boring into his soul.

Was this Senju Kawaragi…? The gang leader of the Brahman and one of the deities?

“My umbrella.” He intoned in a placid voice.

“Huh? Oh. H-here you go.” Takemichi stammered as he handed the umbrella to him, inwardly cursing himself for being a stuttering mess.

“I don’t wanna get wet.” Senju replied in a matter of fact voice as he studied silently the young, nervous man in front of him.

So, this was the infamous Hanagaki Takemichi huh? The former 1st division captain of the Toman gang and the 11th generation captain of the Black Dragons.

Takemichi tried not to squirm under his intense stare. Why did it feel like he was being judged under a microscope? He couldn’t help but to shrink inwardly from his gaze and his heart beat wildly inside his chest.

What the hell was happening to him?

Senju continued to observe him with a blank expression on his face. There was nothing remarkable or interesting about the man in front of him except for his short, flaxen locks which seemed to glisten under the faint rays of the sun and his startlingly blue eyes which reminded him of the ocean. He was a scrawny, ungraceful lad who possessed a bundle of nerves that could make him easily topple down with a raised voice and sharp glare.

However, he could also see something beneath those azure irises. The lurking determination, resilience and sharp candor which could spring out wildly if ever the situation arises from it. So, this is the one that he’s been hearing about from Akashi and the others. That infamous battle against the Tenjiku in the past where he was the acting leader of the Toman for the brief absence of Mikey and the other powerhouse captains. This was also the man that made Taiju kneel in that holy battle inside the church.

It reminded him of an innocent puppy with sharp fangs underneath that harmless face. That thought made his mouth quirk ever so slightly before his features settled quickly into an emotionless face.

“Let’s do this.”

He’ll make sure to recruit him into Brahman to see and experience those skills of that young man for himself until his curiosity and intrigue is satisfied.

After all, it would be interesting to see how Hanagaki Takemichi could add value and advantage to his own gang by his valor and firm morality.

He can’t wait to see on what this promising young lad has to offer him.

(A/N: I don’t anything from this franchise. I still believe in the Takemikeyhina supremacy. But chapter 212 happened. And it was wild. I had to get these thoughts and ideas out of my head before they melted away from my brain. Apologies in advance for any grammatical mistakes as English is not my native language. I tried to keep all of them in character although I still had trouble deciphering the exact nature of Senju given that he’s the newest addition of the character from the franchise. So, I tried to connect the possibilities of his nature from the few panels of the manga. Reviews are amusing. So, let me hear them from you.)

[imaginedisish]

Devil’s Advocate (Tenet) Neil x Reader

Chapter 1: Paper Planes

A/N: Hey guys!! Here is the first chapter of the fic, “Devil’s Advocate”!!! I’m excited about this, and writing it is getting me through a lot right now, so I hope you all enjoy it too! Here ya go :)

Summary: After a traumatic experience, you are forced back into the field with Neil, but the mission is personal and possibly too close for home for you to handle. Neil helps you through it, but you’re not sure if you can get the job done.

Warnings: Violence, guns, death, drowning, injuries, angst, cursing, and yes, luckily some fluff :)

Word Count: 4,405

The weight of your cold, dark black glock settles heavily into your right hand as you pick it up off the table to your left. You secure a pair of noise cancelling headphones around the top of your head. You load the gun and cock it. 

The headphones blast with music, helping you to concentrate on the man-shaped target in front of you.

Everyone’s a winner, we’re making our fame.

Bonafide hustler making my name.

 You extend your gun out in front of you as you shut your left eye tightly to aim. 

All I wanna do is…

BANG BANG BANG BANG 

And uh, and take your money. 

You lower the gun as the target pushes forward towards you. You can’t help but smile confidently as you look at the deep hole you made in center of the paper man. You reach to take it down, but a warm hand grabs onto your shoulder, squeezing you tightly, freezing you in place.

The hand twists your body slightly, just enough to make you turn around. You reach up to the top of your head and slip your off headphones, letting them rest around your neck. 

A charming, wild grin pulls at Neil’s lips as his gaze meets yours. “That was bloody incredible!” He shouts. There’s a bright flash of excitement in his eyes. His hands gesture towards the hole you made in the wall. You had aimed perfectly, shooting in the exact same spot each time you pulled the trigger. 

“Thanks,” You say back as your cheeks flush with heat despite the boost of confidence rushing through your veins from Neil’s praise. A compliment from Neil means a lot to you, even though you’ve known him for years. He was your closest friend and made sure to tell you the truth, even when it hurt. That honesty grounded you in the chaos of your life. He was a constant, a steadfast star in your sky. 

Neil chuckles a bit as his eyes look down to the headphones hanging around your neck. You don’t hear how loud your music still is. Your mind is too focused on the sound of Neil’s laugh. 

M.I.A Third World Democracy

Yeah I got more records than the KGB

So uh, no funny business!

“A bit loud, isn’t it?” Neil laughs again as he steps closer to you. He brings his hands to the back of your neck, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as he grabs the headphones and slips them off of you. 

That smile, You think before mentally slapping yourself across the face. Snap the fuck out of it. 

Your feelings for him were always at the back of your throat, clawing for supremacy, climbing up to the tip of your tongue, threatening to force your mouth open to spill your guts. Somehow, even after all these years, you were able to hold back. Maybe it was because you didn’t need more than what you had with him. That was an absolute lie. Maybe it was because he never belonged to anyone else. There was no need to be jealous. Maybe it was because there was a certain, silent promise of belonging to each other despite the lack of an official relationship.

That was more like it. 

Neil puts the headphones back on the table as the next song plays. The absurdly loud riff of the guitar pulls you back into reality. 

Fell in love with a girl,

I fell in love once and I almost completely.

She’s in love with the world

But sometimes these feelings can be so misleading. 

Blushing again, you reach into your pocket and pull out your phone to press the pause button. The music stops and you smile shyly. A creeping sense of embarrassment crawls into your stomach. You were beyond happy that Neil was able to see you in your element, and usually his presence made you feel good, but his attention was overwhelming at times. Now, the confidence that settled in before had been sucked from your soul and replaced with a racing heart and a cluttered mind. 

You push thoughts of Neil to the back of your head. “So what’s up?” You ask, setting the gun on the table next to your headphones. You casually slip your hands into the pockets of your baggy jeans. You mentally acknowledge that you may be overdoing the whole ‘playing it cool’ thing in front of Neil, possibly even to the point that he might be able to see straight through your act. 

“Well,” Neil pauses. His hand moves to the back of his neck. “I’ve got some news,” Neil says finally, his smirk falling from his lips. Your heart skips a beat. He looks unbelievably nervous. His brows furrow cautiously, knowing his next words are going to achieve some sort of poor reaction from you. 

You gulp anxiously and nod. “W-what is it?” You stutter as you predict the words Neil is about to say. 

I can’t fucking do this, not yet. 

Neil steps closer to you and grabs your hand in his. The touch was familiar but still shocked you to your very core, your nerves tingly frantically under his fingers. 

Please don’t say it, please don’t fucking say it. 

Neil’s voice is quiet in anticipation of your panic. “The boss, he wants you back in the field…” Neil trails off, continuing on about something in London, something about him going with you. You feel your chest tightening. You’re not listening anymore. You’re too focused on what happened last time, too focused on the trauma, too focused on the tears, the shouts, the deaths. 

“NO!” You scream, your long, HDM hung heavily in your hand. The lifeless body of a new recruit crashes to the floor. 

You raise up your arm and cock the gun. You’re ready to aim and shoot, but two large men grab your hands. Your gun falls to the ground with a clatter. 

The man with the dark hair cackles cacophonously. He shakes his head, his piercing emerald eyes dissolving your soul as he picks a new body to hold roughly in his arms. A revolver presses tightly against the person’s head. You can’t tell exactly who it is, as there’s a burlap sack covering their face. There are 8 other people in a semi circle, each appearing the same as the last, tied up in a chair with a burlap sack hiding their identity. 

“What?” He shouted barbarically, his voice echoing against the silver, metal walls of the chamber. “You think your fucking screams can get you out of this?” He grinned maliciously, licking his lips as he cocked the gun. Tears roll down your cheeks. 

You are helpless. 

You are useless.

“(Y/N),” The voice of the person cries out, knowing that their fate is already sealed. It was a woman’s voice, and you felt a bit guilty as you prayed to God that it wasn’t Wheeler.

BANG! 

The lifeless body slumps into the chair. You whimper, stifling a sob in the back of your throat. 

The man with the dark hair moves onto his next victim. You struggle, trying to shake off the two men holding you back. You look around the room, searching for something, anything to get you out of this. 

The man’s face lights up with malignant excitement, sensing that his next kill would hurt you the most. 

Fuck, no no no no no, You think to yourself. You could recognize those stupid, posh little black dress shoes anywhere. You knew the curves of his body, the shape of his hands. Blood dripped down his neck from the cut on his forehead he had gotten earlier. 

Neil.

“Please,” You beg. “Don’t touch him. Just kill me instead.” 

The man with the dark hair only grins more widely now. “Darling,” He snarls. You cringe at his use of the nickname. Neil usually was the one to call you that. “Your begging only makes this more fun for me. In fact, it makes me want to kill you even less, just so you have to live with the image of everyone you care for dying in front of your very eyes for the rest of your life.” His cold words send shivers down your spine. 

He maneuvers differently around Neil, as he grabs the bottom of the burlap sack and removes it from his face. 

Neil’s blue gaze meets yours. You heart feels like it’s being stepped on as it sinks deeply to the bottom of your chest. You can barely breathe now. You huff, trying to keep your sanity, trying to find a way out of this fucking mess. 

“I figured you would want to watch the life drain from his pretty little face, (Y/N),” The man retorts. You shake your head violently. You look left to right, searching for some sort of weakness in the two large men that were keeping you in place. You notice a brace around the knee of the man on your right. 

Thank God for shorts, You think to yourself. 

The man with the dark hair raises the revolver to Neil’s right temple. 

“(Y/N),” Neil mutters. “I l-,”

Before Neil can get his last words out, you raise your right leg, bending it in and snapping it out at the back of the man’s knees, launching him forward. With your right hand now free, you sucker punch the man to your left square in the nose. You round house him in the stomach, sending him backwards. You grab your gun off the floor and aim it back to the man with the dark hair. 

The man chuckles evilly. “You shoot me, and I shoot him. It’s really as simple as that.” Your heart pounds in your chest. 

An idea suddenly dawns upon you. You shift subtly enough so that the man doesn’t catch on to your train of thought. The gun is already cocked, all you need to do is pull the trigger.

BANG! 

“Fuck!” The man cries out, stumbling forwards into the center of the semi circle as he releases Neil from his grasp. His gun falls to the floor. You turn away sharply at the realization that you blew his hand off. 

You run over to Neil first, quickly untying his hands and setting him free. He starts untying everyone else and you walk over the the man with the dark hair. You catch a quick glimpse of Wheeler, and sigh in relief that she’s safe. 

You breathe in hard and part your lips. “Don’t you dare ever fuck with me or my team again,” You pause, kicking the man in your ribs. There’s something extremely personal about your tone.  He grunts in response. “Now tell me where Edgar is keeping the weapons. And tell me where the fuck the lab is, you prick.” 

He chuckles, breathing shallowly. “Prick?” He pronounces the word articulately. “That’s no way to address your uncle.”

“Fucking answer my question ass hat!” You shout, aiming your gun at his head. With another swift kick to the stomach, he curls up in a ball, clutching at his core. You cock your gun again, ready to shoot. Neil rushes to your side, giving you a look that implored you to let him finish before you blew his brains out. 

“F-fine,” He stutters. “It’s in London.” He gives you a set of coordinates, and Neil takes them down. “I suppose I should tell your father that you’re calling him by his first name now, hm?” 

“No, you won’t be getting the chance to,” You say. 

You pull the trigger. 

BANG!

You hear someone in the distance calling your name. 

Two slender, toned arms wrap around your back, resting on your waist as they pull you into an embrace. The smell of Neil’s musky, cinnamon and citrus cologne heightens your senses and brings you back down to Earth. 

Your breathing slows down a good deal as you press your face into Neil’s chest. His right hand comes up to the nape of your neck, and he begins to rake his long fingers through your hair. 

“Are you alright, (Y/N)?” Neil whispers in your ear. 

You swallow roughly. “No,” You say without even needing to think. “I’m not ready yet. I can’t leave Headquarters yet. I’m just not ready.” You feel tears begin to swell in your eyes and you bite down on your lip, hoping to keep them at bay. It had only been a month since you had killed your own uncle. He was a piece of shit, but that didn’t make the situation much easier to deal with. 

It had only been a week since you watched two of your friends die. That part may have been the hardest for you to swallow. 

Neil shakes his head and breaks away from you bit, just enough to get a good look at you. “You’re ready, (Y/N).” His voice is calm and reassuring. “And unfortunately, you don’t have a choice. We have to leave for the airport in,” Neil pauses, checking his silver watch, “45 minutes.” 

“W-what?” You gasp. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” 

“I just found out a few minutes ago,” Neil admits. “If I knew earlier, I would’ve told you.”

You nod, believing him entirely. “So we’re going to London? To the coordinates?” You ask, looking up into Neil’s ocean eyes. You could feel yourself beginning to drown in them, just as you always were. 

Neil simply nods back. He rests a hand on the center of your chest, feeling your heartbeat quicken with anxiety. “It’s just going to be you and I for a few days, and then everyone else will join when we confront…” He doesn’t same his name. He doesn’t want to make you panic again. But you know exactly who he means. 

Your father. Your heart hammers in your chest at the thought of him. 

“It’ll be okay,” Neil’s comforting tone relaxes you a bit. “I won’t leave your side for a second,” He adds. You sigh audibly in relief. 

You let a single tear slide down your cheek. “Thank you,” You whisper. 

Neil pulls you into his chest again. “Anything for you,” Neil responds. You shudder at his words. Sometimes you could swear that he didn’t only see you as his best friend, but something more. 

You let the ideas ruminate and run freely in your mind for a few seconds before shooing them away like pesky little children. 

You take a step back, allowing a small space to fill between the two of you. “I guess I should go pack now.” 

Neil instinctively closes the gap again. You can tell  that he’s worried you’ll break down, and you hate it, but his support feels nice. “Do you want me to go with you? I’ve been told I’m good company.” He grins and sends a wink in your direction.

The corner of your mouth turns up a bit into a half smile, and you let out a small giggle. He always had a way of making you smile, of making you feel good. 

“Nah,” You say, smiling fully now. “I’ll be alright by myself.”

Neil nods and smiles back. “Alright. I’ll meet you in the lobby at two o’clock,” Neil says. His smile turns into a smug smirk, and he turns his back to you. His dress shoes tap against the floor as he walks away. 

“Make sure to bring that silk pajama set you wore that time we went undercover in Monte Carlo,” He calls finally, wagging his pointer finger in the air. “I liked it.” 

You felt heat rising in your cheeks at his words. You almost tripped over the completely flat ground as Neil’s chuckle echoed down the hallway. 

————

You clutched the handle of your suitcase in your hands. You let it dangle in front of your legs, nervously bouncing it with your knees every few seconds. Your eyes searched the lobby for a head of fluffy blonde hair, but it was nowhere to be seen. You glance up to the analog clock above the front door. 

1:59. You were early. You were always early, for everything. Being late made you too anxious. You never wanted to miss a beat. 

The clock ticked 45 more times, and you counted each second. Finally, the sound of dress shoes echoed from down the hall. You looked past the reception desk to see Neil carrying a leather duffle bag in his right hand, and a bottle of water in his left. 

He smiled, releasing your butterflies from their cage inside your stomach as he finally reached your side. You open your mouth to say something, but Neil cuts you off.

“Don’t try to tell me I’m late,” Neil remarks sardonically, his eyes drifting off of you and onto the analog clock. “You’re just always early.” His smirk tugs at your heart, and you can’t help but smirk back. 

“I wasn’t going to say you were late!” You playfully smack his arm with your hand. “I was just going to tell you to be earlier next time.” 

Neil grins and shakes his head. He brings his hand up to the small of your back and brushes lightly. Outside the front doors, underneath the awning, a sleek, jet black town car pulls up. You feel your breath hitch in your throat at the realization that it was time.

This was it. 

Neil looks to you. “Are you ready?” His voice is reserved, almost as if he was scared to ask the question in the first place. 

You nod once. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” You swallow your fear and let Neil guide you out the doors. He grabs your duffle bag out of your hand, and opens the already popped trunk, carefully placing the luggage inside. You go to open the door, but Neil beats you to it. 

“I can open doors you know,” You say sarcastically, glaring disapprovingly in his direction. 

Neil doesn’t seem to care. “A thank you would be nice, love,” Neil says, shooting a charming smile in your direction. His hand is still holding the door open for you. You step inside the car and look up at Neil. 

“Thank you Neil,” You say mockingly. Neil smiles slyly and closes the door. 

The car ride to the airport is relatively uneventful. Neil gave you the run down. He told you your cover, where you were staying, and the overall gist of the mission. 

“So we’re married?” You ask, making sure you had heard that part of the plan right and hadn’t dreamt it up from a fantasy.

Neil smiles and nods. “We’re newlyweds, traveling the world together one city at a time.”  There’s a whimsy in his voice, almost as if he’s telling a fairytale. You can’t help but chuckle a bit, despite the anxiety growing in your stomach. 

The car turns onto an exit ramp, and suddenly the airport is in plain sight. You shiver a bit, feeling the air around you growing colder and colder. You check the temperature gauge at the front of the car, and notice that he hasn’t changed at all. You wrap your arms around your chest, rubbing up and down along your body, hoping to warm up. 

Neil’s smile fades away as he furrows his brows in concern. He wraps his right arm around your shoulders. You jump at the sudden warmth. 

“Are you alright?” He asks as he brings his other arm up to wrap around you completely. 

Your anxiety is begging you to tell him no. “Yeah, I’ll be okay,” You lie. Neil doesn’t buy it, and rightfully so. 

Neil squeezes you tightly. “I know you’re not okay, you don’t need to lie to me,” He whispers. “I’m here for you, and I’m not going anywhere.” 

Your eyes begin to well up, and a single tear rolls down your cheek. “Alright,” You sigh, wiping the tear away. You sniffle a bit, trying to clear your head in the process. The car rolls to a stop. “I’m ready whenever you are,” You say, trying to seem more confident than you actually were. 

You open the door and slip out. The chaos of the outside of the airport takes you aback, despite the fact you had been in an airport millions of times before. Neil steps out behind you, and goes over to the trunk. He takes the luggage out and steps towards to you. You stare up at the massive building, petrified to enter. 

Neil ticks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “There’s not much time, (Y/N). We have to go inside now,” He says, his gaze staring into the side of your head. You refuse to meet his eyes, you’re too focused on the building, the mission, the future. 

After a few seconds, you nod to Neil and walk into the airport. You and Neil only have one duffle bag each, and thus you could skip checking in any bags. He guides you over to security, which happened to be a breeze. 

A short walk later, you approach the gate. There was a line of people waiting to enter, and you and Neil shuffled to the back of it. A few minutes later, a nice steward scanned your ticket. 

“Alright Mr. and Mrs. Ryan, you’ll be in row 2, seats A and B. Have a nice flight,” He smiles, and gestures for you to enter the bridge to the plane. 

Your heartbeat quickens as you take small steps. “N-Neil,” You stutter as you reach to center of the bridge. “I can’t do this. I really can’t do this. I mean it. I-I’m sorry I just can’t.” Panic is heavy in your voice. It feels as though the walls are closing in on you. 

Neil puts the luggage down and brings you to the side of the bridge. He pushes strands of your hair out of your eyes. “It’s going to be okay,” Neil reassures. “You can do this. I’m said I’m not going anywhere, and I meant that.” 

Neil picks the luggage back up, and guides you through the entrance of the plane and to your seat. You hesitantly sit down, quickly placing your hand on the armrest, wondering if there’s still time for you to run out of the door and back to headquarters. To your dismay, you watch the doors of the plane begin to shut. Neil wasn’t kidding before when he said there wasn’t much time. 

He stores the luggage in the overhead compartment, and takes his place next to you. He notices that you’re still shaking, and he places his hand on top of yours and brushes your skin lightly with his thumb. 

A comfortable silence rests gently between you and Neil as his hand remains on top of yours. Sometimes words aren’t necessary. You can get the idea of what someone means by their actions alone.

A few moments later, the captain makes an announcement, followed by a series of other voices sharing information. You're too wrapped up in your thoughts to pay attention to anything they have to say. Before you know it, the plane begins to move down the tarmac. It gains speed, and suddenly, you feel yourself being lifted in the air.

You shiver again, the anxiety becoming too much to handle. You try to ease into your seat in an attempt to calm down, but to no avail. You’re petrified and uncomfortable, a terrible duo of emotions to be faced with simultaneously.

Suddenly, you feel Neil’s warm hand leave yours. You watch in confusion as he lifts the armrest up, tucking it in between the seats. He lifts his arm, and wraps it around your shoulder, just like he had done in the car, and so many countless times before. You accept the invitation willingly, and snuggle into his side. 

Minutes later, you’re fast asleep in Neil’s arms. 

———

An evil chuckle echoes against the concrete and spreads down to the grassy beach below. “There’s no saving him now, (Y/N)!” A man shouts from the top of an overpass. 

You look down and watch as a familiar figure waves their arms frantically underwater, trying to swim up to the surface, but they can’t. There’s a brick tied around each of their angles. Their dirty blonde hair floats freely in the water as they continue to sink to the bottom.

“N-Neil!” You shout, trying to step forward to dive in after him. But your stuck, tied against a chair, guarded by two large men. “Please, please stop this!”

The man laughs, ignoring your pleas. “This is what you get, (Y/N). You’re worthless, and you fucking know it. Don’t you ever forget it, darling.” 

You shake side to side. The chair tumbles over and you fall into the dark, black, cold water. Your nerves are shot by the shock of the frigidness, and you can’t move. 

“Neil!” You gargle, left to watch as he sinks to the bottom of the lake. “Neil!”

“(Y/N)?”

“Neil!”

“(Y/N)?” 

Your eyes shoot open and you practically jump out of your seat. Your seatbelt pushes you down, keeping held tightly. You’re trembling. You can’t breathe at all. 

“(Y/N),” Neil repeats. “It was just a nightmare, you’re okay.” He wraps his arms around you, bringing you tightly into his chest. 

You bury your face into his white shirt, sobbing softly. His right hand reaches up to the nape of your neck, his fingers gently combing through your hair. 

“I’m so sorry,” Neil whispers, his voice filled with kindness. “I’m so, so sorry, love.” 

You whimper into his chest as pain explodes in your heart. “What am I going to do?” You mutter. 

“Don’t worry about that,” Neil says, his kind tone persisting in each word he utters. “I’ve got you, it’ll be okay.”

It needed to be okay. You needed to be okay. You couldn’t risk any fuck ups, not this time. This was real. This was life or death. 

This was the end of the world. 

Or at least it could be. 

“I’m going to fucking kill him for what he’s done to you,” Neil states, the kindness in his voice is replaced with anger and frustration. “I’m going to kill Edgar, I swear.” 

You shake your head against his chest. “No…

“Leave that part up to me.”

>>> Chapter 2

[ererokii]

plz plz gimme annie cuddling hcs 🥺🙏🏾

ANNIE SUPREMACY ANNIE SUPREMACY ANNIE SUPREMACY pls i hope these are good

Annie is definitely a big spoon

Don’t let her size fool you, she will cuddle the shit out of you

She’s very touch starved for sure

Most of the time, she won’t even ask if you want to cuddle

If Annie wants to cuddle, you’re cuddling.

Your legs are always entangled with her as her arm wraps around your midsection, bringing you closer to her body

In some shape or form, she has to be touching you. It's nothing sexual of course. She feels most at peace when her arm is touching yours, maybe your backside pressed against hers

Or it can be something as simple as her interlocking pinkies with you

There are sometimes where Annie wants to be the little spoon

And who are you to object to that?

Her smaller body would latch onto yours, it somewhat reminded you of a koala gripping onto a branch for dear life

It soothed her when she could listen to the steady beat of your heart

Reassurance was key with Annie. Hearing this meant that you were well, alive and safe. She just had to make sure. 

Another key factor with this is hair strokes

Annie is a woman of few words

But she will be most vocal of this

Annie loves hair strokes

She will be very demanding of this, and honestly expects you to do it automatically when her head rests upon your chest.

If you don’t, she’ll stay quiet for a few minutes before grabbing your hand and placing it upon her head

Once this happens, its like a change happens with her. From her stoic and mean exterior, it melts away as she becomes a clingy vulnerable mess. 

Usually when you cuddle, it seems that the stress on both of your shoulders are relieved

It’s honestly a great way to just spend time with annie and relax, she just makes it 10x special for you

[bastillia]

Rough Landing

Part 2 of First Lesson

Summary: Commander Ren has a few more things to teach you.

Rating: Explicit

Words: 8.4k

Warnings: cockwarming, overstimulation, threats during intimacy, inappropriate use of the Force, oral sex (ROUGH, m receiving), unsanitary sex location, public(ish) sex, kinda exhibition kink, no aftercare, uhh bit of cumplay

A/N: Whew alright I know it’s been 3 months, but we’re picking up pretty much right where we left off. Thank you all SO much for the love on part 1. And huge thanks to my incredible friends who have supported me, beta read, and helped me conquer my stuck points. I couldn’t have pulled this through without y’all. Enjoy!

***

There was plenty to like about being in space. For one, it was absolutely quiet. 

Perfectly soundless. Unfathomably endless. In a way, the void between the stars had always been your perfect aegis; a blank slate to nurture everything you’d hoped to become. It held power in its silence, and possibility. It was calm, dark, vast-- it was home, for as much or little as you knew about the word. 

If you thought about it, living aboard the roving flagship of the First Order had always given your life more or less a perfect structure. Most of the time, you didn’t even mind the predictability of it. Your days were purposeful and productive. If, sometimes, just a little boring. But, that was okay--you liked the quiet.

And you were never ever taking it for granted again.

“Stop moving.” Kylo Ren’s voice broke through the growing rumble of the hull. It was only the sensation of gloved fingers tightening down into your hip bones that finally alerted you to the fact that you were squirming. Again. You grimaced.

"I'm trying." 

Friction from the gathering atmosphere punched the craft into a sharp rattle, and your heart struck your sternum as the controls lurched underneath your palms. Your fingers cinched down tight, the lack of circulation in your knuckles settling into a dull throb as you continued to wring the contoured grips, as if you could strangle some desperately needed assistance out of them that way.

Fuck.

Breathe.

You could do this, you just had to stay calm--think about home, about the tedium of whatever meeting was probably going on right now. About how all eyes would be on you if you were there, about the dumbstruck look on General Quinn’s face when you presented that fucking perfect dossier you’d compiled on some key New Republic official he’d been trying to track down for months.

Yes, think about that.

Not about the sweat beginning to break out across your skin, the unnerving rattling around you growing louder and louder. Not about what was still sheathed inside your twitching cunt, stretching you, demanding that your body yield to its presence.

Warm echoes of your last orgasm flared up with another clattering vibration of the atmosphere. It felt almost trapped within you, an electric refrain to the adrenaline melody that pounded your veins now. Your floor muscles quivered tight with it, eliciting an approving twitch from within your walls as Ren’s fingers flexed into the bruises on your hips. 

It was incredible, really. How time had begun to feel almost obsolete until now. It had passed abstractly in the quiet serenity of space as you’d sat filled to your limit, feeling nothing but the commander, his breathing, the omnipresent ache of his cock. Your world nothing but an aroused haze-- stirred every so often by a subtle buck of his hips, a kiss to your neck, hot breath in the hollow of your ear whispering don’t move, don’t you fucking move. Good girl. 

Your thoughts snapped back to the present with a vaguely wistful pang as the hull gave another violent shake. 

Atmospheric entry. What was that, week five? Six? Of the TIE pilot training program? It was on the phase-3 test, you were certain. And you’d put credits down that none of the novice pilots had ever experienced the added curriculum of a cock shoved inside of them.

A warning squeeze stilled another involuntary shift of your hips.

You gritted your teeth against your discomfort, instead trying to let the adrenaline form a whetstone to sharpen your senses.

Breathe.

You could do this. You were way beyond just some novice trooper, you were a fucking lieutenant general of the First Order.  And what did you do to earn that rank? You adapted. So, fucking adapt.

A jolt slammed the craft, and your muscles locked up as the head of Ren’s cock speared something tender and abused deep inside you. The ship squirreled under your grip, leaving you paralyzed as the movement of it set off every panic alarm in this new and untested region of your brain. Without missing a beat, two huge, leather-encased palms came up to wrap over your shaking hands, steadying you with remarkable certainty as they coaxed the vessel back under control. 

“Focus, lieutenant." There was almost an amused purr in Ren’s throat, his voice low and close, utterly lacking in any kind of concern. Your pulse gradually came back down, and with it, your fear curled into a flicker of annoyance. If he was going to mock you, he could at least use your proper title.

You know.

The one you’d worked your ass off for.

The drag of fingertips across the bare skin of your upper thighs jolted you. Your body felt hyper-sensitized, like the sudden touch ignited a cascade of fission that couldn’t seem to find equilibrium anywhere. It fractured your brittle composure in two, just as the roaring blaze around the viewport flared again with a powerful tremor that kicked your heart back up in a sudden panic. 

Sweat lined your palms, adrenaline congealing and turning to acid in your veins. You felt your nerve slip.

"Com-commander, s-sir, I--" 

A hum. “Control yourself.”

It was only two words, but each one cut through your rising panic like a blaster shot to the sternum, rattling you to a realization. 

Control. 

That was the test all along. He’d laid it right out in front of you, challenged you to a game with incredibly fucked up stakes, and he was drawing his hand. Taking a seat at a proverbial Sabacc table, stretching out his chest and waiting for you to either bet up, or lose your nerve. The ante was rising, piece by piece as he silently tested the parameters of your breaking point. 

But he wouldn’t find it. Not like this.

Fresh determination fixed your grip around the shaking controls. It was even enough to keep you from reacting this time when a dull pain lanced under your skin, his teeth catching a tender spot where he had marked your neck some time before. He growled. You tucked that card up your sleeve. 

“Decelerate.”

His tone had shifted quieter in a way that made your ears prick, snapping your attention away from the dull ache of your insides. It sort of stunned you, actually, into something of a quiet curiosity. 

His hand reached around you to swipe at a holopad on the console. An altimeter blinked to life, just before the soft heat of his lips returned to your ear.

“Drop to this zone.” He pointed to a region on the display. “Remain there until we get closer." 

Remnants of panic still swam somewhere in your blood, but you managed to draw a careful breath and nod your understanding. Your ante was still on the table, you told yourself. But perhaps he’d decided that challenging you could wait. For now.

Refocusing, you caressed the controls. The ship banked beautifully, intuitively at your will, before lurching a final time as the thrusters hit a stable layer of atmosphere. 

Beneath you, clouds floated in gossamer ribbons over the calm air, as tattered and thankful for its mercy as you felt. Farther down, the dim moonlight breathed monochrome shapes into being, half-swallowed by the murky vapor of shadow between them. Droplets condensed on the viewport as you dropped through the thin cloudbank, skittering shyly outwards and allowing the shapes to solidify into the oppressive grid of a cityscape.

Slowly, you could begin to make out vague details. Industrial sectors, shipyards, scrappy comms towers. The occasional twinkle of speeder headlights creeping between dilapidated buildings, and--

Your gaze snapped back to the holopad on the nav console, a deft swipe of your finger bringing up your coordinates. The planetary code blinked neutrally back at you, but the unmistakable string of numbers harpooned you with a bolt of clarity that had your ribs tightening down around your lungs. A question resurfaced from the bottom of your memory, curling up to slither coldly along the back of your neck. 

“Commander?”

“Hm.”

“Why, um--” You faltered. 

In truth, there was no reason for you to ask. The answer was already swimming around in your gut, acquainting itself with the sour feeling of dread that settled there. Waiting for your brain to analyze it while at the same time sitting in an insidious state of knowing that didn’t need to reach your head at all for you to feel its weight. 

You swallowed, and adjusted your grip. “Why a TIE fighter? Why didn’t we bring the command shuttle?” 

A pause. He reached around you, flicking a switch on the main console, and the Silencer’s headlights shuttered off with a resounding click. “We may need to leave quickly.”

For the first time since leaving the Supremacy, you felt something familiar settle inside of you. Deep and quiet, like the way sound doesn’t travel in space. It was the same, utterly instinctive feeling that took over every time you managed to get yourself in over your head-- when a negotiation turned volatile, when an unforeseen flaw surfaced in a mission strategy mid-execution. Those moments where the fixed parameters of your training ended, and the only thing left to take the pilot’s seat was your own intuition. 

But this time, there was something else there with it. It glowed within the powerful shroud of calm, thrumming quietly, filling you with something potent and restless and--exciting, that you couldn’t quite place.

Real, physical danger was not something you had much direct experience with. The various moral complexities associated with putting others up against it at your command, you had come to know well. But you were here now. Facing it in the flesh, not protected by the reinforced hull and ion cannons of a Star Destroyer. 

You were here, looking down on the dark streets of Corellia, a planet so lawless and foul and flat out fucking dangerous that the First Order had all but given up establishing a presence here long ago. Even the New Republic’s ties here were thin.

A tightness struck through your chest as you very suddenly realized that it was only a matter of time, now, before you were going to have to--

“Drop lower.” The commander shifted to tap something into the nav console. A flight course lit up the holopad, leading to a destination marker just a few klicks ahead. “Land here.”

The sector you entered seemed somehow even darker than the rest as you brought the Silencer down over the shadowed streets, hints of crumbling walls and rusted vents just barely illuminated by the occasional weak street lamp. No headlights, hardly any ground lighting--you were no ace pilot, obviously, and it took your full concentration just to maneuver the ship between the vague silhouettes of broken antenna towers, avoiding them where their spindly shadows jutted up from the rooftops. You jumped when Ren’s hands enveloped yours again.

“Right here.” He guided your hands, expertly swinging the craft around and into a hover above a dim alleyway, empty and lined on both sides with large, abandoned-looking industrial structures. Your pulse jumped. He released your hands, a finger drawing your attention to a switch on your right, then flicking it casually. “Landing gear.” 

The hull rumbled and thumped. An array of green lights flashed to life in what you could only assume was an indication of the ship’s readiness for landing. If only you felt the same. Your hands were frozen on the controls, your mind simultaneously racing and completely blank. You waited dumbly for guidance, heart hammering, shallow little breaths trapping themselves high in your throat. 

“Relax.” Ren’s voice permeated to your bones as both arms slid around your stomach, liquefying your fear into a trembling plea. 

“P-please, Commander, I d-don--” You cut off with a shiver when his lips met your neck, his hips beginning to rock in a slow, enunciated rhythm that had your cunt immediately bearing down with need as you felt him harden. “Fuck, p-please, I don’t know how t--... h-how to--”

Your eyes rolled back as a hand slid down between your legs, the leather pad of his finger finding your clit stiff and sensitive, its touch featherlight. A hum rumbled under your shoulders. “Your intuition, lieutenant. Feel it, don’t think.” 

Maker help you, there were a lot of things you could fucking feel right now. Namely, your commander’s cock slowly massaging your walls, lazy in its rhythm. Your grip on the controls banishing the circulation entirely from your knuckles. His fingers sliding down your slit, spreading as he reached the root of himself, shamelessly feeling the obscene way your body yielded to the thickness at his base. The lust that erupted low in your belly in response. The panic that was rising as you remembered your task, its sharp tendrils threatening to reach your head and overwhelm you. 

Control yourself.

A turbulent breath shook some air back into your lungs as your tiny inner voice of reason managed to surface again. Collecting yourself, you let it expand, pushing each distraction away one by one as it went. Focus, it reminded you. Remember the card up your sleeve, get through this round. 

You tethered your awareness to the ship, to the curve of the controls against your palms, to the way they extended like a continuation of your own neural circuits to command the sleek metal beast encircling you. A steady, downward press of your hands, and it purred its obedient response, settling slowly towards the ground below.

“Good girl,” Ren said. “Just like that.” 

There was something--a tiny flicker of mischief in the shadows of his voice. Maybe you would have caught it quicker, but your tunneled focus left you one fatal step behind him, too slow to anticipate his move. His hand shifted, easily finding your raw clit against his fingertip, and pressed down--hard.

Electric. Everything was electric. Your vision doubled, the shredded remnants of your nerves shorting out and screaming against the paralyzing flood of sensation, ripping a ragged gasp from the bottom of your lungs. Maker, don’t scream, don’t fucking-- 

A shift of his finger and your hips jerked, an involuntary movement of sheer desperation for escape that carried right through your whole body and into the ship.

One wing dipped to the side, and it was only the sharp trill of a proximity alarm that managed to blast through to what was left of your reflexes just in time. A curse cut the air through your lips, your shaking hands grappling the controls into a clumsy counter-correction that swayed the craft wildly as you wrestled it back to center. The rocking slowly stilled, the ringing in your ears no longer from the alarm, but your own pulse bludgeoning your temples. Ren simply chuckled, and released your clit.

“Commander.” A few rapid blinks cleared the blur from your vision, but oxygen was still painful through the panic in your chest, leaving you frustratingly breathless. “With all due respect, sir, do you want me to crash your ship?”

“You won’t.” The smirk was audible in his voice. “Or is my confidence in your aptitude misguided, lieutenant?” 

A slew of unkind words lashed themselves to your tongue, fighting for freedom with the fuel of indignation that scalded your throat like bile, but you swallowed both, smothering your thoughts into silence. Stay calm. Maintain control. You drew a tight breath. “No, sir.”

“Mm. Good.” He rocked his hips firmly up into you, and a pitiful little noise clutched in your throat. “Then land my ship, and perhaps your proficiency will be rewarded.”

Desire shot up your spine like a flare, igniting at the base of your brain and rocketing your thoughts clear past apprehension and ahead to the promise of relief. It was enough to allow bravery to wriggle back into your fingers, your hands finding the wherewithal to resume their task even as your lungs stalled in anticipation of another distraction. 

But none came. 

The relief that flooded you was immediate and powerful the second you felt solid ground settle under the landing gear. The hull groaned around you as the craft came to a full rest, wheezing like a fathier after a hard gallop, and you, its master, just thankful to have survived the race. But there was one more hurdle for you.

“You know this part.” Ren gestured vaguely to the console, still alive with various lights and indicators, many of which, no, you certainly did not know anything about.

Your eyes darted back and forth a few times before it hit you. Of course. The ignition sequence.

Presumably, to shut the fighter down, you would just need to… to do it backwards? That seemed like the logical course of action, at least. Stars, how long ago had you even taken off? The Supremacy already felt like a faint memory, the edges of its shape scattered through a hazed prism, each facet reflecting nothing but incandescent pleasure and the blinding heat of Kylo Ren. 

But you had to remember. This was--you hoped--the final test, and there was no way you were going to fail. Maker, what was wrong with you, you were better than this, just think. The last thing he turned on had been…

Thrusters.

Right console, three switches. Bring all of those down. The roar of the ion engines quieted, taking the vibration of the hull down to a faint rumble. Okay, good, next was--

Ignition. Yes, ignition: off. Much quieter now, and stars, when was the last time you breathed? Fucking breathe. Okay, next. 

Compressor: disengaged. Auxiliary last.

Everything went black as you killed the main power. Your breathing seemed to echo around in the stillness of the cockpit, your cunt twitching to life in acknowledgment of what was now pressing harder than beskar steel against your guts, amplified by the darkness. It was almost as if the power from the ship had never really shut down, but simply transferred into your own body instead, flicking your ignition switch and bringing your arousal roaring back to life with a vengeance.

Every line of the commander’s body against you was lighting up your awareness, filling the sensory void with his presence, the unbearable stillness of him. What had he meant when he said he’d reward you? You’d learned his lesson, yes, and passed every fucked up test he’d thrown at you to prove it. For that, you could commend yourself. 

But if there was one lesson more poignant than the rest, one that now stuck like thermal sludge to every crevice of your understanding, it was that his next move could come at any moment--and not always in a way you could anticipate. 

This seemed like one of those moments.

A shift of his chest under your shoulders made you jump, one arm reaching up somewhere you couldn’t see to flick a control, and the hatch cracked open with a hiss. The night air flooded the cockpit, all but drowning your racing thoughts as it drew in like a cool sigh to kiss the heat in your cheeks. Your head fell back, lungs gratefully accepting the damp and oddly foreign relief of atmospheric oxygen, even as the scent of it stuck in your mouth. It was thick, leaden with rain and crude fuel, but you hardly cared. It felt divine.

Beneath you, an impatient grunt and a single squeeze to your thighs brought you back to the present with a tiny flicker of alarm. 

“Out.” 

Your muscles froze. 

“But, I--” Whatever you might have expected out of this moment, that was possibly the last thing you could have prepared for, and your brain was fumbling spectacularly in an attempt to process the one word. 

Did he actually mean that? Was this another test? You didn’t even feel like you could move right now, let alone clamber out of the ship with your whole body aching and clenching as it was. And you were so full, and he was so hard, and now you were nearly trembling with need and--

And you took too long to act. 

Wide hands locked around your waist, and then everything shifted--he was picking you up. Holy shit he was strong, he hoisted you upwards in one effortless motion, throwing your world into a blur. The only thing you distinctly registered through your disorientation was the feeling of his hard cock pulling along your tired walls, finally popping free for you to flutter and clench around nothing for a moment before your bare ass came down on the lip of the cockpit. 

Cold metal bit your flesh, a harsh and unforgiving contrast to the warm lap you’d grown accustomed to. Fuck, everything was dark. But hearing him shift underneath you had you hurriedly swinging your legs around to jump down.

And... the ground was a lot farther down than you thought. 

You landed hard. Hard enough for your knees to buckle, and you stumbled against the hobble around your thighs in a clumsy attempt to keep yourself upright. But before you could lose your balance you were moving again, being yanked by the arm and slammed back hard against the ship.

A huge, black mass crowded in on you, looming and pressing you back against creaking durasteel, the metal still warm under your shoulders as the ship settled from flight. Your heart slammed against the commander’s advance, eyes darting through shadow. 

In the span of a shared breath, his mouth crashed down on yours, open and wanting and hungry in the darkness, and everything inside of you detonated.

The heat of his mouth was dizzying. You mewled into it, the feeling of him so strong and warm and everywhere, tugging at your hips, tongue sliding past your teeth. Your hands gravitated upwards for any leverage they could find just to pull him closer, to taste him deeper. A low, rumbling sound scraped the bottom of his chest and two huge hands encircled your wandering wrists, easily plucking them off of their feverish course and slamming them up beside your shoulders instead. 

His exploration of your mouth grew brazen as he pinned you open, crushing you against unyielding steel, even taking a moment to suck at your bottom lip before his hot tongue was licking deep into you again, stealing your breath and coaxing soft sounds from your chest in its wake. 

An immobilizing sensation locked your arms in place, keeping them tight against the ship even as his touch slid along your arms and around to the front of your torso. The extra sensations hardly even registered through the feeling of his mouth on yours until you realized you still couldn’t move while he was cupping your face with one hand, the other leather-encased palm flattening over the confines of your uniform, squeezing at the soft swell of your breasts hidden beneath. 

A low growl into your mouth, a shift of pressure up your sternum, and then his fingers found and curled over your pressed collar. With one purposeful tug, the material popped open, and you gasped.

"Commander," you broke the kiss, your head spinning as his breath immediately blazed against your neck instead. His movements were impatient, uncharacteristically clumsy in their urgency as you felt the material of your top continue to separate all the way down to your cleavage. “Commander, w-we--”

Fuck, it was impossible to think, everything in your brain felt thick with a vibrating fog. You could feel tiny points of rational thought trying to take form, trying to remind you of where you were, of why this was risky. But they were like infant stars peeking through a hungry nebula, unable to solidify before being swallowed again. 

"Fuck, w--” His tongue slowly rode the curve of your jaw, and stars, what were you even going to say? “W-we sho-shouldn’t-" 

“Shouldn’t what?” he purred, smooth fingertips trailing slowly down the bare plane of your sternum and sliding under the open edge of your coat.

A soft whine was all you could muster, broken thoughts dissolving on your tongue the moment he cupped the curve of your breast and scooped it free of your neckline, pushing the fabric aside to let your nipple peak up against the open air. 

The empty street was quiet enough that your breaths seemed to ricochet as they tripped softly over each other, sliding along the walls of the alley and joining the soft buzz of a flickering street lamp farther down. Stars, anyone could be listening-- watching, for all you knew. In a city like this, it was impossible to anticipate the stakes. Rife with the sorts of creatures who took refuge in shadow, even the darkness seemed to betray you, leaving every inch of exposed skin glowing as if the dim moonlight had suddenly adopted all the strength of a Tatooine sun. 

Your heart raced. You scrambled to clutch at the caution left within yourself, for any remaining instinct that would tell you that this was wrong, that you shouldn’t be going along with this. 

But you found no purchase. Your inhibitions were dissolving through your fingers-- dwarfed in Kylo Ren’s shadow, smothered under his hands, the power of his presence atomizing any need for your guarded reluctance and casting it into obsolescence. 

And as you surrendered, suddenly every eye that might be watching, every ear that could be tuned to your pleasure just around a shadowed corner, was like a hit of fucking spice. The thrill of it arched your back, coaxed bolder sounds from your chest that bounced daringly off of the bullet-scuffed duracrete to fade into the darkness of the alley.

Ren gave voice to it first, a growl breaking through the roar between your ears. 

“You’re enjoying this, lieutenant.” A swift yank of your undershirt revealed both of your tits to the damp air, and the chill of it settled wonderfully on the thin sheen of sweat that had gathered under your stiff uniform. The sigh that melted through your lips was as much confirmation as you could provide him. 

“Filthy thing.” His voice was a darkened hiss as he roughly took both of your breasts in his hands. “You’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you? Right here in the fucking street.” 

There was no doubt that he could sense the pleasure soaking your thoughts with every passing second, the heat coiling up through your body, breaking you into soft trembles against the solid seams of durasteel.

Stars, this was wrong. 

But there was something about it--about being pinned up, shameless, tits bared and groped in the middle of a dirty Corellian backstreet like some cheap outer rim whore, that had you feeling freer and fucking hotter than you ever had in your life.

Yes.

He could do anything. Take anything. And right now, you’d fucking give it to him. 

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip, head nodding in desperate submission as your fingers wiggled against their invisible bonds. It was like your body was coming alive for the first time, finally catalyzed to its transition state, now burning and shifting and begging silently for him not to fucking stop touching you. 

“I want to know, little whore--” His hand spread over your bare collarbones, the wide junction of a thumb and forefinger pressing the base of your windpipe. A gasping little moan left you as his lips brushed your jugular, heat striking up through your belly and all the way into your neck when his other hand urged your thighs apart to tease your slit. "I want to know just how far you can take me down this pretty throat."

Everything in you shuddered, and your unrelenting bonds were probably all that held you up against the sudden lack of support that your knees offered. Kylo Ren pressed the tip of one thick finger inside you, barely curling at your soaked entrance. 

“Do you think you can swallow my cock, lieutenant?”

“Fuck. Yes, yes sir, please.” The breathless response left you before you even registered what you were saying, so thick was the need enshrouding your brain. It muddled your hearing, put everything else on a sensory delay to the pulsing heat that slid down and coiled up in your core.

And that’s why you almost didn’t catch the gritted command before the strong presence of his body suddenly drew away from you, leaving your head spinning. 

“Get on your knees.”

The Force evaporated from around your forearms. The loss of physical support nearly made you buckle, your body sagging against the fighter and leaving you to clutch at a ridge of metal for balance. You’d heard him, vaguely, but your brain still felt spectacularly slow. You were having trouble remembering which way was up, blinking against the low light, and the small hesitation was enough. 

In a flash of movement, his saber cleared the clip on his belt, cracking the air in two as it ignited in his hand and leveled to heat your neck. 

"Now.”

For a second, everything was extraordinarily still. Your lungs, your mind, even the faint drizzle of mist seemed to suspend in the air, vaporize around the searing plasma, and equilibrate into a deathly quiet.

The red aura vibrated in your immediate periphery, engulfing your retinas and casting everything around it in near-total blackness, unwavering in its proximity as the cold street pressed your knees. 

A very marked shift took place in the state of your awareness as you knelt, waiting-- feeling. Everything was hazy and warm before, but now. Oh, now, everything was hot, and sharp. 

The snap of plasma echoing through the empty street sounded somehow both hushed and magnified. The gravelly bite of duracrete into your knees was both painful and electrifying. And all you could do was sit here and accept the way Kylo Ren drank you in, just hold absolutely still and let the tip of the saber rotate to your front, the light of it illuminating your bare chest.

And, fuck. Oh, fucking Maker-- 

You were wet. 

Every beat of your heart was an enunciated hit to your core, giving your arousal a wicked edge that cut into every last molecule of your body. Your cunt ached more with every pulse, and yet Ren just held there, his breaths shaking the damp air between you as he gazed at your naked tits under the light of a weapon that could kill you in half an instant.

You were possessed, the danger and thrill of it flooding your skin with intoxicating fire, and in a moment of what might have been either immense bravery or unfathomable stupidity, your hand began to move. 

Very, very slowly, it pulled along your belly, fingers twitching to splay downwards. The saber heated your knuckles, following as you guided it all the way to the apex of your thighs, where you paused. And then you sat back on your heels, spread your knees as far as they would go, and curled your hips forward, letting the crimson light gleam off of the wet shine of your cunt. 

“Fuck,” Ren rasped from the shadows, something delirious and urgent unearthing itself from the gravel of his voice. Somewhere beyond the snapping hum of the blade, you heard the slick sound of leather moving over flesh. “Fuck- touch yourself. Sh-show me--”

But you were already moving. Your fingers slid into the wet heat of your folds, tender with arousal, the flesh plumped up from abuse. You dragged your slick all over yourself, spreading for him, pulling up to circle your neglected clit and letting out a soft sigh at the relief that saturated you in a deluge. 

The cool air did little now to temper the exquisite heat that flooded your body as you pleasured yourself openly for him, whimpering when you felt a familiar swell prime itself deep within you. It brightened with every practiced curl of your fingers, blooming outwards to rival the lightsaber that illuminated you steadily, and it wasn’t long before your thighs began to clench, your hips rocking against the movement of your hand while heady gasps punched your chest, that luminous heat coming closer and closer to a blinding apex.

You began to flutter, tightening with closeness, but the blade shot up under your chin, freezing you in the one movement. 

“Don’t cum.” 

Your heart slammed in your throat, every muscle locking into place where it was. You could feel errant sparks biting your skin, daring you not to move or speak.

And then darkness swallowed you, a hiss of steam resounding as the saber abruptly disengaged. The lingering imprint of it marred your sight, and you gasped when the whirl of movement in front of you turned into a large hand snaking into your hair, hips crowding your face, and the warm, solid length of Kylo Ren’s cock pressing against your cheek. 

You whined, stiff muscles liquefying as you turned your mouth towards it, moisture already welling under your tongue. But his fingers tightened at your scalp, stopping you.

“See what you do to me, little thing?” 

His other hand gripped around his base, letting the weight of his cock thump against your cheek once, twice. Fuck, he was so hard, and if you thought he was big before, it was even more obvious now that he was pressed right up against your face, so close to the soft heat of your mouth.

You nodded and whimpered, letting your cheek brush against his erection, still damp with your own slick. He rocked his hips forward, and the sheer breadth of his stature dwarfed you as he pressed in closer, until your face tilted and your jaw rested up against the hard plane of his adonis belt. Heat seeped into your cheekbone, radiating from the saber hilt strapped deftly back to his hip, like a warm sun to the earth and smoke of his body. 

An absolutely crippling wave of desperation crashed through you then, pulling an audaciously loud moan up tight through your chest that morphed into a pitifully sobbed out, “Please.” 

The hand in your hair gave a firm tug until you were looking straight up his torso, the glint of his eyes just visible to your adjusting sight. He held you there, his strength commanding, voice slipping like dark matter through his vocal cords when he spoke. 

“Are you going to let this whole filthy fucking city hear what a little whore you are?” He rocked your head back and forth by your hair, turning your neck muscles to liquid. “Begging for my cock?” 

You bit your lip, too far gone to deny or assent. Perhaps caution would still be the smart thing, but stars--you didn’t fucking care any more. You’d let every wretched street rat on Corellia hear you beg for him, if it came down to it right now. 

Not trusting yourself to answer verbally, you simply let your mouth fall open so that your wet tongue could drag over the tiny slip of exposed skin above his groin, never once taking your eyes off of his shadowed face. Your reward was a thick groan and a twitch of his cock by your cheek, shooting a hot spasm into your core. Ren huffed out a tense breath. 

“Keep that fucking mouth open.”

He drew back and pumped himself, long and slow right in front of your obediently waiting tongue, black glove squeezing almost too roughly along his shaft until a thick bead of pre cum wept from his slit. Your brow pinched upwards as saliva pooled behind your bottom lip, threatening to drip down onto the duracrete, seep into a blaster hole and add to the memory that this roughened street would keep of you, so soft and wanting, incongruous next to its grit.

Ren stepped forward, obliterating your thoughts as finally, finally, he rested his thick head on your tongue, removing his own hand and letting you test the full weight of him in your mouth. Your moan was almost a sob when you closed your lips and dragged your tongue across his frenulum, letting him feel you, swirling the pre cum from his tip before sliding him deeper into the hot depths of your mouth. 

“Fuck, good girl,” he hissed, resting both hands in your hair, but not controlling. You took him another inch, tongue working to lubricate your path, satisfaction unfurling when his chest heaved at the feeling. The taste of him shot a primal fire through you, equal parts sharp and masculine, the remnants of your own cum leaving a tang on your taste buds. 

Arousal careened through your belly, and you couldn’t help but dip your hand between your thighs, fingers finding your clit stiff and sensitive as your tongue passed over a thick vein.

But he caught your movement, and your hands were immediately wrenched upwards by an invisible strength, both wrists flying up and into the waiting grip of Ren’s palms. You squeaked.

“Impudent thing,” he growled, and wrapped your smaller hands around the base of his cock, securing your grip with a warning squeeze before carding his fingers into your hair again. “Keep them there.” 

You gave a tiny nod and a shallow whimper, briefly mourning for your aching clit yet almost instantly distracted again by a twitch of his shaft on your tongue. Relaxing your jaw, you took him further, letting him begin to feel the tight silk of your throat.

“Fuck--” every muscle in Ren’s body seemed to go rigid enough to rival the durasteel frame of his ship, and his fingers clenched tighter into your hair. “Yes, take it--” he hissed as you slipped back an inch and enveloped him again, relaxing to take him deeper.

You found a steady rhythm like this, gradually acclimating to the feeling of intrusion. It became a little easier with each appreciative sound you drew from the commander, arousal permeating your body’s natural defenses and slackening them, even as your throat began to protest the moment you got about halfway down his cock.

But as hard as you tried to ignore the sensation of breathlessness, your lungs still screamed for air. You got maybe eight or nine good strokes in before your lips drew off of him with an obscene pop, slick hands taking over to work his length while you gasped a few starved breaths. 

It would have been easy to stay like this, jaw slack, lips plump and wet, simply marveling at the hard and beautifully flushed appendage in your palms. But then a finger tapped twice under your chin, breaking your daze with a wordless command that struck an immediate response--your eyes flicked up. 

“Are you determined to test my doubts in your capabilities, lieutenant?” He laid a flat palm under your jaw and ran his thumb over your blushed lips, leather slipping lewdly over saliva. “Or must I teach you everything?”

Your heart struck your pelvic floor, dread and excitement charging up like a shot from a plasma cannon. “N-no. I--” Heat surged into your face. “I me-mean, I, uh--” Fuck, it was stupid to think you were somehow out of hot water. He expected more. Always, always, expected more, and now you were going to have to play your cards carefully. You swallowed against the thundering of your pulse. “I c-can take it, Commander, ple-please--”

“Can you?” He wiggled your jaw slightly in his palm, face tilting until a sliver of moonlight slanted across it like a translucent scar. You tensed, resisting the urge to shrink. “Or should I have selected someone more adequate?”

The plasma charge inside you flared, fusing atoms of dread into something deadlier with the affront. Your teeth gnashed, tension breaking your body into trembles under the strain of caution. “N-no, sir.” A muscle in his face twitched. “Please, I was... I w-was just--”

“Perhaps I should return you to General Quinn,” he said. “I’m sure he would be more than accepting of such inferior talents--”

You lunged, and in a single, smooth stroke, you swallowed his cock straight to the base, your body heaving its protest with a soundless convulsion.

A noise strangled in Ren’s throat, and a firm hand slid around the nape of your neck to hold you there, gagging and completely stripped of any capacity for breath. 

It probably would have been too much for you to handle, were it not for the hot sparks of indignation that quickly soldered each fissure in your resolve. Each one forced you to soften, to accept the agonizing incursion, if nothing else just to prove that you could. 

Relax.

Tears welled as you glanced up, funneling all of your willpower into sacrificing your need for breath. Movement was impossible with him holding you there, but the huge hand on the back of your neck spasmed, and your opportunity struck.

Doe-eyed, you gazed up and swallowed, letting your pharynx flex and ripple around the thick head of him just as hot tears spilled over to soak your cheeks, and one hand curled around to cup him by the balls.

You could almost hear something in him snap with the choked roar he let out, and it made your chest swell even as both of his hands coiled roughly into your hair and locked your head back. You met his stare, fire in your own, and gave him a challenging squeeze. In less than a second, your hands were no longer your own, seized by the Force and shackled down to your thighs, just before his hips drew back and oxygen smacked your lungs with a less than pretty sound. 

He gave you no time to recover before his cock was gagging you again, his rhythm punctuated and slow, each thrust forcing submission from your body. Gravel shifted under your knees as you trembled with all of the muscular tension that you redirected away from your jaw, the coarse pain of it serving as a welcome diversion from the intense sensation of having your throat fucked.

Relax. Control yourself.

Wetness began to streak your face, tears and saliva converging on your chin, and the vague thought shimmered in the back of your mind as to what you must look like right now: a slutty mess completely at your commander’s mercy, drawing choked breaths only when he allowed it, tongue fluttering soft and wet under his thick shaft while your clit fucking throbbed between your legs. But from the broken sound that Ren let out as he watched another violent gag roll through you, you’d have thought it was the hottest thing he’d ever witnessed. 

His grunt bottomed out into a snarl as one hand slid out of your hair, his palm turning outwards while two of his fingers began to curl in a salacious motion.

The fluid sensation of the Force coiled and rippled across your clit at his command, its motions just like your own fingers but even better, making your eyes nearly roll back in your skull. Ren gave a knowing hum as your moan was choked down into your throat by another thrust of his cock, and a bend of his fingers sent a toe-curling rumble over your swollen bundle of nerves. 

“That’s it, lieutenant.”

The sound of his voice slid down your body, settling low in your belly where your orgasm was starting to simmer again. Even the ache in your jaw began to meld into your pleasure, making your head swim and buzz with the renewed promise of climax.

Ren’s breathing started to crack and falter, coming in half-formed curses through his ribs as he continued to steadily fuck your mouth, and it was clear that he must have been leaning on the edge of closeness for some time as well. You could feel it in the way his cock pulsed on your tongue, the way his stomach began to tense and flex.

Fuck, the thought of it--Kylo Ren, this grand enigma steeped in poise and brutality, a man who could obliterate life with a flex of his hand, was about to pull you apart by the threads, shatter you into pleasure with that same power and cum down your fucking throat. 

The wave of arousal that slammed you was almost maddening, and it was all you could do to flatten your tongue over your teeth and swallow thickly around his cock once more before everything was coiling up tight and fast inside you. 

His voice shot you to the precipice with a gritted out, “Fucking whore, let me f-feel you cum--”

There was a moment before it hit, like the way a seismic charge pulls in all of the sound around it into a single devastating point, and then with a choked sob you shattered, pulses of ecstasy ripping through your body while your cunt spasmed and wept its bliss onto the street with each unrelenting surge of the Force at your clit, wringing convulsions from you until you began to shake from the intensity of your orgasm.

You blinked the fresh tears from your eyes just in time to see Ren snarl above you, jaw tight and hips stuttering as the tension in his body threatened to snap, echoing in a rough pull of your hair. Pain seared your scalp as he pulled you off of his cock just in time for the first jets of his release to coat your tongue.

He groaned, a harsh sound that rivaled your surroundings in its sheer impurity, and he wrenched your head back further, working his length while thick ropes hit your open, gasping mouth, splattering your lips and chin with his bitter taste. He was grunting, swearing, panting through clenched teeth, and then--

Your name. Not your title, not a mocking belittlement of your rank, but your name, cracked through his lips, a desperate sound half-buried in the delirious stream of filth.

Before you could even process what you just heard, he sharply released your hair and stepped back, your invisible restraints dissipating and leaving you to crumple over on yourself, gasping and trembling and painted in cum. 

Slowly, through the ring of pleasure and shock in your ears, you rubbed your sore jaw, before using your fingers to gather the warm mess around your lips. But just when you were about to slip them into your mouth, his voice stopped you, a graveled whisper from the shadows.

“Look at me.”

Breathless, you looked up, suddenly conscious of how plump and stained your face felt as the cool air began to dry the tears on your cheeks. Ren had already adjusted himself to decency, but your walls still fluttered with aftershocks of pleasure at the sight of his huge stature, swelling with deep breaths like a sated, black tide under the moon. You gazed at him in the dim light, holding his stare while you dipped your slippery fingers into your mouth and dutifully sucked the cum off of them, admittedly letting your tongue lick out along your knuckles just a little more than you probably needed to. 

Ren’s nostrils flared, and he took a few strides in your direction. When his hand came out towards your face you flinched, but he simply curled his fingers under your chin and slowly passed his thumb over a spot on your cheek that you had missed, expressionless as he pushed it through your parted lips. He watched you like this for the smallest moment before he drew away again.

Your mind felt blank; wiped and recalibrated by the staggering intensity of whatever your life had become over the past few hours. Exhaustion settled on you with the weight of a freighter. The one thing still tethering you to reality was the sensation of oxygen drawing in and out of your lungs, sweeter now than it had ever felt in your life despite the taste of grease and rust in the air. 

Stiffly, you began to readjust your clothing, pulling your undershirt and coat back over your breasts before beginning the painful process of climbing to your feet. As shaky and sore as they were, your legs somehow supported you, and you managed to wrestle your pants back up over the curve of your ass, only fumbling a little to secure them around your waist. 

For some reason it was only after you were covered again that you even thought to look around the alley, a brief pang of fear seizing your ribs, but it was just as still as when you’d landed. Just as empty, just as quiet. Maybe even moreso.

You glanced back around to Ren where he stood by the connecting beam of the ship’s wing, still and ruminative, a sleek device raised in his hand. After a moment, he pressed a button and spoke into it.

"Report."

A crackle of static peeled through.

“Have eyes, dropping in,” you could faintly hear the voice on the other end say, and a spear of alarm jabbed you back to sudden alertness. Ren's eyes flicked to you, his face stone. 

“Clear to land,” the commander returned through the commlink, before tucking it back into his pocket. 

Your heart pumped uneasily against your ribs, your face surely a canvas of confusion. Ren cast you a blank look before grabbing a metal ridge on the ship and smoothly disappearing into the cockpit again. 

Okay, this was getting unnerving. But the whine of an engine snapped your attention to the sky, where a standard-issue TIE fighter was descending with predatory swiftness upon the alley, its headlights killed, swooping into a hover just behind Ren’s Silencer. Half-shielded by the wing already, you recoiled instinctively into the shadow of it, as if you could find safety in the way it jutted forward like a protective talon.

You jumped when heavy boots hit the ground next to you again, looking up to see a masked Kylo Ren. He watched the other fighter land, standing silently as its cockpit popped open with a whisper of hydraulics. A shadowed figure leapt out, and you took a few steps backwards as it strode in your direction, vaulting the wing-support beam of the Silencer in a smooth motion before coming to a halt in front of the commander.

“Ren,” a dusky voice rasped through the tinny filter of a vocoder. He was masked as well, similar yet altogether different from the commander he addressed; rougher-looking, shrouded in strange black armor. As you stared, his head quirked, the mask tilting to settle on you. “Who’s this?”