#the urge to fling him as hard as i can at a wall is There!

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

he's in my home he's in my Heart

[fisheito]

Imagine you have to set up yakumo's enclosure for the next couple months. How do you set it up and what do you put in there?

oh NO.! THE PROPPHECY HAS BEenm FUFILLED

i am standing in my room, leggies rooted to the floor. i am in shock .frozen and i have no idea how to proceed. there is a perpetual pathetically sobbing serpent under my blankie.

[shotmrmiller]

The thought of toxic Dom!Simon not being exclusive with you is actually tilting me so I’m gonna write about it. 

–

As per usual, you’re draped over Johnny’s legs on the couch, listening to him talk his nonsense when he brings up Ghost. 

“...yeah and Ghost, lass, I’m tellin’ ye, he has got to be hurtin’ the lasses he takes to his quarters. He had this new medic in there screaming and…” but his voice fades, your heartbeat thundering in your ears drowning him out. 

He had another woman in his bed. Bastard. 

Your eyes sting as your blood boils. Jaw aching from how hard you’re clenching it. 

Stupid fucking asshole.

Of course, you hadn’t brought it up. Not like you could, with how he had stuffed your mouth with his cum— but that’s beside the point. Here you had thought it was a given. But no, that motherfucker wastes no time in fucking other bitches while he has you constantly checking your phone hoping he sends a text. 

Practically begging for his attention and he’s too busy getting his dick wet. 

And there’s no one to blame but yourself. You’re the one who chose to put your feelings into this. He, at no point in time, strung you along. Congratulations, you played yourself. But that doesn’t mean you’re gonna sit there and take it. If he gets to fuck other people, then so do you. 

Johhny’s yelp snaps you out of your own furious inner ramblings. 

“Hen, ouch! Mind the claws, eh?” 

You unclench your hand— you hadn’t realized you were digging your nails into his skin. 

“Ye a’right there? Yer face is bright red,” he remarks and you put your clammy hands onto your cheeks in an attempt to calm down. 

“Yeah, I’m alright, Johnny boy.” 

Releasing a tense breath, you turn to him with a toothy smile. 

“Hey, didn’t you have a single friend I could meet? I haven’t gotten laid in—” and Johnny cuts you off with a swipe of his hand.

“Och! Naw! I dinnae care to know ‘bout yer flings. Cease yer yappin’.” 

You arch one eyebrow at him and tartly say, “Oh, but I gotta sit here and listen to yours? How does that make sense?” 

“I’m the older brother, hen. Do as yer told,” and he yelps again when you pinch his thigh at that. He’s rubbing the spot and you try to not feel guilty at the fact that you might’ve pinched a little too hard— you’re still frothing at the mouth over that asshole.

“So?” you ask again, “Any cute friends?” and he rubs at the scar on his chin before nodding. 

“I do. Name’s Gaz. Er, Kyle. He’s been wantin’ to meet ye, actually. I talk about ye all the time and he’s gotten curious. Can give ye his number if ye want. And I dinnae wanna hear ‘bout anythin’ that happens, ye hear me?” 

He pulls out his phone and sends you Kyle’s contact. You text him immediately and he responds within minutes.

Johnny snaps his fingers to get your attention and you look up from your phone.

“Snap at me again and I’m biting your fingers off,” you snarl.

“Ye could try, hen. I’ll be back, gonna go get the food we ordered,” and you nod but then Johnny taps your head with his finger.

“And be nice to Gaz. He’s a good lad.” 

Rolling your eyes, you say, “Yes, da. I understand,” and he leaves.

The conversation between you and Kyle is light-hearted small talk until he sends a picture of himself wearing aviators— and you can see Ghost’s form in the background. Your rage comes back in full force.

You open snapchat and click on a filter that gives you cat ears and a collar with a bell— taking a photo of yourself holding up two fingers on Johnny’s couch, then press send.

Your phone vibrates and quickly look to see what Kyle said but it’s not him. It’s an unknown number.

You send pictures of yourself to all of Johnny’s friends?

His fucking nerve. The audacity. You grind your teeth and hold back the urge to throw your phone against the wall. 

Your nails clack angrily on your phone screen as you reply.

Worry about yourself and that little medic of yours.

A couple of minutes pass with no response until you get a phone call from the unknown number.

You answer the call with a sharp “What.” 

“That’s what this is about, pet? Ya mad at me so you throwin’ a tantrum?” he tauntingly chuckles. 

You might burst a vessel from the indignation of it all, so you do the only thing you can do. Hang up and block him.

Asshole.

You can’t wait to fuck Kyle and send Ghost the sex tape.

jokes on you, though cuz Ghost just gon show up at Johnny's flat sporting big dark hickeys on his neck lmao i hate him

@luminousbeings-crudematter

[lostinforestbound]

Could I request NSFW headcanons for Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to their non-tiefling gender neutral s/o asking if they can worship his body & kiss everywhere especially his infernal features? They want to show him how much they love everything including his horns, ridges, and tail!

You got it! I had to think about these quite a bit, so I hope these turned out as well as I hoped! Apologies for the wait! And feel free to add other ideas too!

The Tiefling Bachelor's Receiving Body Worship

NSFW Under Cut, Minors DNI

Dammon

I would say Dammon is the most secure and comfortable with himself overall, compared to the other two tieflings on this list. Despite snide comments once in while, he's pretty proud of his infernal traits.

When his non-tiefling partner asks if they could explore his traits in the midst of a heated make-out, he doesn't think twice about it and takes off his shirt.

Now, his tail isn't sensitive, some parts of it are even numb due to forge related accidents. His horns aren't particularly sensitive either.

But trace the ridges on his chest and sides, he's a goner. His partner using their nails to tease him is a good way to get him to keen in his throat.

He loves having his partner's hands on him always, he's a very touchy person overall, but this is MUCH different.

This kind of touch really gets him going, especially since he's not used to his ridges getting so much attention.

Pin him against the wall! Kiss, nibble, and lick those ridges and damn, if you want Dammon to get loud, this is the way to do it. He lets his partner have control as much as he can, but the urge to grab them is becoming too much. Especially with praises spilling from their lips.

Eventually, it's too much for him to handle and he switches their positions to take them against the wall. He doesn't last long at all, coming within a minute.

He'll be apologetic and promises to be more patient next time, but he couldn't help it.

"...Could we try that again, soon?"

Rolan

Out of all three Tiefling's, Rolan's infernal traits are the most sensitive. He hates that fact a lot. Why do you think he wears layers under his wizard clothes?

He's very reluctant when his partner brings it up for the first time, and seeing that nervous look that's being shielded by a scrunch of his nose, his partner reassures him that he can just think about it.

When he finally settles on at least giving it a try, he lets Tav gently lay him down on the bed to get started.

He did not expect how much he would love it. Kissing along his sternum, rubbing his horns and ears, tugging his tail; gods, he's already hard just from that.

Stroking his tail makes it quiver and coil in the air, wrapping around their arm and tugging for them to do more. If they grab one of his horns and pulls him into a kiss while they keep stroking, he'll whimper into their mouth.

They'll have to be careful, because if they're patient enough Rolan will come completely untouched from tail/horn stimulation alone.

If he ends up doing so, he is so, so embarrassed. He's worried he just ruined the night by not lasting long. Though he calms down if his partner mentions it was extremely hot.

If Rolan allows it, they'll do it over and over to overstimulate him, and the prettiest sounds come out of his mouth. They'll stop when it becomes painful for him.

He still wants to satisfy his partner. Even if they say that they're more than happy just by watching him fall apart, he'll make it up to them by shoving his face in between their legs, knowing his mouth is good at things other than talking.

Zevlor

When they bring it up to him, he instantly looks like a fish out of water.

He's not inexperienced by any means, he's had more than a few flings/partners in the past. But body worship? For him?? That's new. Are they sure?

With lots of reassurance from his non-infernal partner, he decides to give it a shot, unsure what to expect. He's worshiped their body plenty, but hasn't received some himself before.

While nothing is particularly sensitive, the way his partner looks at all his traits so lovingly and curiously makes him throb in his trousers.

His favorite is his partner straddling his lap with their hands trailing up and down the ridges of his spine. He didn't even realize that part was sensitive until they started to explore the wing impressions on his back.

As they do so, he'll start grinding up into them, nibbling at their neck as he groans at the feeling. Be cautious of grabbing the base of his tail, or it'll be over all too soon, especially when they're kissing his neck at the same time.

The tip of his tail flicks excitedly if they grab both of his horns as they kiss. He finds it as a loving gesture as they thumb the base of them.

When he's panting into their mouth, he'll actually start requesting them to touch certain places. The nape of his neck where the ridges first start to poke out is one of his favorites.

Another place he would love that hasn't been revealed yet is the back of his horn, near the base. Scratch a nail right where the horn meets the skin and he'll start losing it.

After everything is done and they're laying in bed, he'll shyly ask if they could do this again sometime. He ended up loving it.

[gxthicwxrm]

Hi! Can I request an Alicent's innocent daughter who pregnant dark!Daemon's child? I'm really curious about how the relationship between Daemon X Reader in this story will develop! Maybe reader was on the way to tell Dae she was pregnant again only to hear a conversation that Daemon was just using her (he really isn’t but Rhaenyra making sure she hears) she leaves and takes her son, and Daemon realises who he really loves and switches to the Greens! Plot twist, a Happy Ending please filled with much SMUT and Otto dies and a little flirt scene with Aegon or Aemond to make Dae jealous hehe.

My Mother's Daughter

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader

Summary: When Daemon says something he regrets, will their secret relationship survive?

Warning: cursing, angst, pregnancy, secret relationship, potential part 2

Thank you so much for requesting. This fic has no smut, but I hope you can enjoy it all the same. Please leave feedback!!

HoTD Masterlist - Full Masterlist

---

With feet sweeping across the cold, hard floor, you practically fly down the corridor as the previous encounter replays in your head.

"Yes, milady. You are with child." The nurse aide confirmed after you asked a second time. 

Smiling joyously, you begin to speed up around a corner when you stop short as you crash into your younger brother, Aemond, and your mother, Queen Alicent. 

"Oh, my dear! What is the rush you almost needed to trample your poor mother?" She jokes as she takes you in her arms, preventing you from tipping over. Your smile quickly fades as your brother analyzes your stance, making you stand straighter. 

"I-I was running to tell Helaena about this book I just found. It was just magnificent! I thought we could, uhm go to the garden to read together." The lies drip from your tongue like poison. You hated lying to your family, but they would never accept Daemon or his child. Your mother gives a gentle smile as she brushes a lock of hair from your forehead before placing a light peck. 

"Well, don't let me stop you." She urges you on while Aemond 'hmm' in response before they both turn down the hall. Once no longer in hearing range, you take off again and stop once you meet Daemon's chambers. Hesitant, you go to knock when the door creaks open, making you fling yourself to the side with your back against the wall. Muffled voices leak out of the cracked door. Closing your eyes to brace yourself, anyone leaving the room would indeed spot you as they exit the room, but they never do.

"I would never wed her. She is nothing more to me than a common w-whore." You hear Daemon say—the man you love. The father of your unborn child is saying such an awful thing about you. It was unbelievable and devastating. Tears fall on your face while you grip your stomach as a hollow feeling grows in your chest. 

"Are you sure?" Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon's niece and your sister by marriage, asks her uncle. There was a hesitant silence until Daemon shattered it.

"I could never love her. She is just a hole to fill." With that, you flee down the hall as sobs forces through your lips. Tears flow down your cheeks endlessly as you find your room and begin to open the door but stop when you glance at your older brother Aegon's door. 

Aegon has always been your closest sibling due to your age. You always felt safe telling him your worries. He wasn't like Aemomd, who would be quick to duel anyone who hurt you rather than hearing your cries and holding you, and you never wanted to burden Helaena, whose worries remain overlooked. You and Aegon were like human diaries to each other. He was the only person who knew of your relationship with Daemon, your uncle. You knew Aegon was not a good man by any chance, but he was a good brother to you when needed. 

With a light knock, the door opens. You fall into Aegon's arms when you see your brother's face. Without question, he wraps them around you, pulling you into the room before closing the door behind the both of you. Immediately, he takes you to the fireplace, where you always vent to each other.

He gives you space to gather yourself as he grabs you and himself blankets and pillows, then sits across from you. After a few deep breaths, you tell him what you heard. Despite trusting your brother, you withhold your pregnancy in retelling the conversation. Once you have finished, Aegon pulls you into his arms again and presses a light kiss to the top of your head, similar to your mother earlier. 

"I can make Sunfyre eat him if you wish me to do so." Aegon breaks the silence, causing a laugh to leave you as you pull from him, swatting his arm while you shake your head. Before you could retort, a loud commotion came from the corridor. 

---

Daemon's POV - earlier 

Rhaenyra stands before Daemon, fire blazing behind her blue orbs.

"How will Queen Alicent react when she finds out her daughter is sleeping with you? What will you say when her guards have a blade to your throat?" She threatens.

"I don't know what you are talking about, niece." He bites back, and images of Y/N's body flash through his mind. Blinking rapidly, he tries to push the memories away.

"The guards saw you leaving her bed chambers on multiple occasions, uncle." She spits the words like a dragon spits fire. Harsh and unyielding. She will be the end of his relationship with Y/N if she pushes harder

He has to stop Rhaenyra.

"It doesn't mean anything to me. It is just some fun." He tries to shrink the words off as if they don't turn his stomach. Analyzing her face, she isn't convinced quite yet.

"Do you love her? Do you plan to wed her? Fill her with your children?" Her icy words hit him as he realizes he never thought that far. He knows he wants her in his life until the end, but he's never told her that, which makes his following words more painful. 

"I would never wed her. She is nothing more to me than a common w-whore." Bile starts to burn its way up his chest as his chest tightens. He can tell Rhaenyra isn't letting it go but offers nothing. 

"Are you sure?" At this moment, he sees her confidence fade from the future Queen as insecurities fill her eyes. But his words are for his future wife's safety, not Rhaenyra's ego.

"I could never love her. She is just a hole to fill." With that, Rhaenyra nods before she kisses Daemon's cheek. Outside the room, he can hear someone crying before it's gone, echoing slightly down the hall. Looking at Rhaenyra, she has a devilish smile. 

"No." Dread fills Daemon's heart as he realizes what his niece has done and pushes her away. Running out of his room and down the hall, he tries to catch up with you when he practically smashes into the Queen and her father, Otto Hightower.

"Now, Daemon, what is this?" Alicent asks, rolling her eyes at the Targaryen. Otto silently sneers beside his daughter. He would be snarky and make remarks any other time, but Daemon was on a mission. Daemon had to get to Y/N. He didn't know how, but he knew Y/N heard what he said, and he had to undo it. Pushing past the two, he keeps going towards Y/N's room, leaving Otto yelling obscenities and Alicent for guards. Before he can reach her door, he gets tackled by Otto, who Sir Cole and other guards follow. Quickly catching himself, Daemon turns, pulling a blade from his hip, and holds the knife to Otto's throat. 

"I've been itching to do this for years." Daemon chuckles as he applies pressure to the blade, a small bead of blood dripping down the older man's neck. 

---

Y/Ns POV - Present

"Daemon?" Your voice breaks through his anger as he turns to you. Aegon had opened the door to reveal Daemon with a knife to your grandsire's neck. 

"Daemon, what are you doing?" You say, moving towards the two men with Aegon following shortly behind her. Damon immediately drops the knife turning to face her, but before he can move, four guards rush him and attempt to arrest Daemon. He tries to fight back as the guards push him to the ground, holding a blade to his face. Screaming, you beg your mother and grandfather to stop this.

"Mother, please! Please, stop this. They are hurting him. I love him, please, Mother." Your declaration shocks her as she wonders when this could have happened, but her eldest daughter's fear breaks her heart.

"Enough." The Queen's voice is firm as she addresses her guards, who abruptly stop their actions. 

Daemon falls to the floor, and you go to his side. Helping him up, you take him to your room while everyone empties the hall. Aegon helps you sit Daemon on your bed before leaving with a nod to you. 

Silence fills the room while you gather cloth and a basin with water. A gash across his cheek from the sharpened blade begins to bleed. Wiping it clean, you see it is nothing more than a scratch, so you put the gauze away and sit the basin to the side. 

"Am I just a whore to you?" Your words confirm Daemon's suspicions. "Am I just a game to you?"

"No. I swear I didn't mean anything I said. Rhaenyra threatened to tell your mother about us if she knew you meant something to me." Daemon explains as he cups your hands. Tears pool in his eyes as he begs you to believe him. His words bring relief but stop you.

"Do I?" You ask, making the blonde looks up with furrowed brows.

"What?" The confused man asked. With a smirk, you pull yourself into his lap, wrapping yourself around him. 

"Do I mean something to you, Daemon?" Your question hits him, but he collects himself as he thinks.

"You mean so much to me, Y/N. I would give up my life, my honor, my family, my dragon for you. You are worth everything to me." He confesses as he cups your cheek as his other arm wraps around your waist.

"Good, because I am pregnant with our child, Daemon. We will have a family if you want to be a part of it." You smile as his eyes widen. His arm grips you as he jumps up from the bed, his strength holding you in his arms while he twirls around, hollering. He sets you down and has your jaw as he kisses you deeply.

"I love you, Y/N Targaryen. I want this family, and I want you as my wife." He declares, making you pull him into another kiss.

"I want you as my husband." You mumble into the kiss before he holds you to his chest. 

"I am so sorry for the things I had said. I felt sick even saying them, but I wanted to protect you." He whispers into your hair. 

"I forgive you. Your words hurt badly, but I know they had no truth. But now Mother knows about us; soon, everyone else will." You say into his chest.

"Good. Everyone will know not to fuck with us." He says darkly, making you laugh as you look up at him, admiring his beauty.

"Oh, and next time I find my wife alone with Aegon Targaryen again, he and I will have a problem to resolve. Targaryens have a reputation." He jokes as you roll your eyes. This man was the father of your child, your husband.

[willowser]

sometimes i get the very strong urge to write a comes back ??? fic for bakugou but the more i think about it, the more i realize how emotionally taxing and honestly horrifying it would be.

you and bakugou spend a few years in that weird will-they-won't-they stage before you officially start seeing each other seriously, and then it takes some time to adjust to having a pro-hero for a partner — so it's not always easy. until the time goes by and you have a break up scare or two and things finally level out, and you figure out how to talk to each other and you fall into the beautifully warm comfort of just being together, in love.

and then he fucking dies. in a heart-explodey, blind-in-one-eye kind of way.

the two years that follow are just — time passing, like pages in a chapter you can't understand the words to. you know grief in a way you never could have comprehended before, you wonder what it's all for and how you'll go on. you're angry at him for sacrificing his stupid life and angry at the world for taking him from you, but you're so deeply, down to your bones, heartbroken over losing him.

and you're not the only one; more than any of his friends that you see, deku is the one who is there for you the most. calls you daily and pulls you out of bed, makes sure you eat because he knows that's what kacchan would want. lovingly flings out a few gruff insults that make you laugh until you're both crying in your kitchen. it means something, maybe, that you both can just mourn in the presence of one another, without judgement or care.

your relationship gets a little — dependent. not romantic, at least not for you, but it's like you need the other person for the bits of bakugou they hold that you don't. the memories and the laughs and the bad times as well as the good. the secrets katsuki would never tell you, and the tenderness izuku was never shown.

it never gets easier. every day is just another day. if you think about it for too long, it all comes crumbling down. you're almost having to disassociate through your life just to make it, and that's hard when the whole city mourns him, too. but you do it. every single day, even on the worst of them.

izuku calls you a little more than two years after, in the middle of the night.

sounding way too awake and out of breathe, though you don't think that's necessarily out of the ordinary, considering his profession. he's a very hyper-fixation kind of guy; you can only imagine what hobby he's picked up and also mastered in the last 48 hours.

he asks if he can come pick you up from your apartment because he "needs to show you something important" and you agree, even if it doesn't feel like it usually does, when the nights are long and you both need someone to talk to. this feels — urgent. a bit worrisome.

you don't know where he takes you, but he's quiet the whole way there. in an old sweater, hair mussed, bags under his eyes like he really hasn't slept in the last 48 hours.

("stupid flighty fucker," katsuki would say, sometimes, when the weight of the world was weighing too heavily on the number one hero's shoulders, and even if he would huff and puff and grit his teeth, you'd notice him checking his phone more often than usual. taking every phone call that came without hesitation.)

you almost want to tell izuku that, in the car, because that's what you do, that's how you've kept him alive between the two of you; kacchan would make a point to tell you that's not how generators work, in the shitty horror film you and deku go see, that kacchan wouldn't dare sit through.

("no, he would," you argue, solemn as the lights in the theater warm back to life, as it empties. "he would."

and after a long, heavy beat, izuku would agree. "yeah. he would.")

izuku brings you somewhere that's too clinical to be as quiet and as dark as it is: inside, the walls and floors are sterile with anti-septic but the lights are off, in every hallway. the only visibility comes from a small lamp that's in a lobby of sorts, and there is a small handful of people you don't know, at all, already there. waiting.

you say his name in a small, concerned question, and when he takes both his hands in yours, they're warm and too wide and sweaty. his eyes glow, but in a way you don't recognize. everything he says to you is — gibberish, a mish-mash of worry and half-sentences and all the warning bells are going off in your head.

"y-you can't freak out, okay? you have to—i can explain all this when...when the time is right."

"you said that you would give anything to have kacchan back, remember? you said—you would do anything."

"i know this sounds—i know how this sounds, okay? but nothing is impossible!"

"i just need you to trust me."

and up until now, you had no reason not to. but you're not sure when he slept last, or even when he ate last, or why he's muttering things about his quirk, how he and katsuki are connected somehow, in ways he's not able to explain.

or why you can faintly hear the steady beeping of a heart monitor just beyond the only closer door in this wing of the hospital.

[chrissshub]

OLD FLINGS DIE HARD

FT. EREN YEAGER

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ PAIRINGS: Ex Husband!Eren Yeager x Fem Reader

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ WORD COUNT: 3.5k

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ CW: Infidelity, possession, couch sex, teasing, taunting, fingering, nipple play, marking, biting, use of petnames, clit slapping, mentions of Jean Kirstein

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ WORDS FROM CHRIS: This came as a request but I wanted to elaborate on it :))

“Eren?”

“Hey…Y/N…”

It’s a rare occasion when you let Eren enter your newfound home, on his own nonetheless. The clicks of the door’s gear act faster than you can think, drawing your attention from the kitchen stovetop to the wandering hues of green.

It’s the new surroundings that irks him to no end, walking into you in a kitchen different from his own. The walls weren’t as brightly as this one, replacing his choice of an apricot orange to a blazed blue.

The atmosphere here differed from his norm all the same, this one reeking with imitation. He quickly peers out into the living room, the quaint space blessed by the sun’s setting rays. Its light still reaches as far as into the kitchen, kissining Eren’s cold cheek out of sympathy for his wounds. 

His eyes meet your body’s frame from his post near the door, pushing it to meld in with the white painted frame. Eren doesn’t speak much until he’s in your vicinity, hands sinking coyly into his jean pockets.

He’s watching you, desperate to drink in the reminiscent sight.

Your hands still hold onto the wooden spoon with the same grip he remembers it, supple fingertips gracing the thinned handle. What leads into the pot is a distinct story, wafting scents flooding Eren’s nose. He knows it well too. The rich spices all simmering into a timeless stew that was once favored by him and him alone.

There’s a desire deep inside you, pulling at a side you wish to abandon. The urge to meet his eyes is present, tell him to drop the doe-eyed look and settle his business with haste. But you’ve known the man too long to turn him away, pity filling the crevices of your heart. It’s been three years now, and in those three years, you’ve never seen the man so lost. 

His eyes tell it all. To the average person, some would say Eren’s perfectly fine, just suffering through the rough of a natural human condition. Yet unto you, Eren’s eyes are lost, lost in some dream he can’t seem to escape. The prominent green that once held a righteous glimmer has long lost its gleam, now being casted beneath a thick haze of a chilling realization. 

He’s lost all he’s ever had to himself. 

Now, he’s forced here, gathering what scraps of you he could before leaving doused in disappointment.

“The kids aren’t here, won’t be here for another hour or two.”

He’s wincing at your voice’s tone, once a gentle melody now replaced with the cold brute of the blunt reality. You don’t even bother to look at him, a subtle detail he takes too far into account. Regardless, Eren simply can’t take your words as infallible, he needed to make some dent into the steel wall sealing him off to your true natures.

“Y/N, I didn’t come here for the kids. I came here–”

“Then you should know how that’ll turn out. Nothing you say or do is gonna fix us, Eren.” 

Eren’s swallowing down the lump of regret as you speak. The words resonate with him for the umpteenth time yet they sting more each and every time. He knows none of his words, his sweet talk or convincing will gain your favor again.

Eren also knows how happy you are with your new flame, a man that stands in all that he couldn’t. It’s painful, watching your smile amuse a man other than himself. It can light up any room in an instant yet he still feels cold, knowing that the same warmth would never grace his presence anymore.

And Eren should be okay with it, considering it was his selfishness and immaturity that landed him here: secretly begging for a moment with you. That fact alone is what keeps him so motivated, using that pent-up perseverance to woo your heart back into his hands.

“Fine, Y/N. Just…let me stay, keep you company for the time being…please?”

“Don’t you mean, let me keep you company?”

A silence shrouds the apartment’s kitchen, the shrilling reality coming to light. As cold as you came off to be, you too shared in his cry for company. The difference was that your cry was answered a year ago by a great man, while Eren’s cry could only be answered by you. 

“Yes, I do,” Eren groans, bringing a hand to lace about the nape of his neck. He leans along the marble countertop for support, carefully searching for the words to ensure a minor success.

“Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve had some of your food. ‘M kinda hoping you’d share a plate…or two.”

You offer him a measly nod before switching the stove off, acknowledging him without passing on a single glance.

“You remember the drill. Get a bowl and I’ll serve it to you, Eren.”

Slow steps around the counter lead him to you, extending his reach to the cabinet closest to your head. His intention was to grab a bowl, but he’s become too interested in something—something far more familiar than your meal. 

That’s when a faint heat flickers at Eren’s cheeks, a shushed gasp cutting through his teeth.

It’s a scent, hints of vanilla and rose whisking towards his nose. He knows the smell all too well, a lotion you insisted on using day in and day out. He’s so eager for the memory that Eren’s nearly gone dumb, bringing his chin to ghost past your shoulder. 

He’s so close to you, so close he can just about feel that plush heat radiating from you. If not for the bowl in his hand, Eren’s chest would’ve caved at your spine, the front of his gray tee clinging to the open back of your lavender silk slip-on. It’s wrong of him to say but Eren’s already parting his mouth with the syllables of his deepest thoughts.

“God, you’re so beautiful. Everything about you is just how I remember it too, almost like…we’ve never split.” 

A white-hot streak of heat strikes the highs of your ears and cheeks alike, a stifling breath clogging your lungs. It’s in tandem with every fiber in you running to a point, a body numb off the sheer rip of shock. 

“What did you say–”

The words just waiting to spill into the air find themselves coming to a sudden halt, courtesy of Eren’s touch. The warmth of his palm curves along your shoulder, the pad of his thumb drawing lazy circles into your supple skin. He’s even, slipping a few of his thick fingers beneath the thin strap of your dress. 

He misses you—that much is apparent to your eyes.

You know Eren too well to ignore all his whims, noticing how the soft purrs coo from deep within his chest. He’s fallen at his own impulses by simply closing the space between you both. His breath curls at the hairs on the back of your neck, the rain of chills licking across your spine. 

Yet, you can’t help but sympathize with Eren; empathy not being that far of a cry either. It’s a simple touch but your heart beats harder for this than a kiss from your newest beau. That same gentle manner he possesses follows through to his words, another compliment rolling off his tongue.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N. I said you’re so beautiful, I don’t even know how to act around you. And I hate to say it but… I feel like you keep calling me back, but I know I don’t deserve it—I don’t deserve you.”

“What are you doing, Eren? We talked about this…I’m so…happy with Jean now. We had our time, can we just accept that and keep things the way they are?”

“You were happy with me, you told me so yourself. The new guy, he’s nothing like me.

I’ll drop to my hands and knees if you need me too, but I’ll keep asking and pushing ‘til you come back to me. I love you too much and too hard to let this be how we continue in life.”

Your mouth parts for another retort, your mind hard at work for a sharp comeback. It was strange to hear this from Eren, the man who drove you to leave with your shared children.

He’s the reason why something so beautiful failed, dragging along two innocent souls into the mess. So why? Why work so hard to merely push you away all over again?  

“You should be the last person talking, Eren. You can’t just waltz on in here and—”

“Shhh, can we just enjoy this moment? No distractions, nothing to interrupt, just us…like how it used to be.”

A harsh gulp consumes your throat. Your chin fell into a tilt, meeting Eren’s eyes for the first time that night. Eren’s so at peace now with you in his care, his eyes telling you all. 

The haze you’ve so accustomed muted itself from his sights, granting for the whimsical glimmer to dot his pupils. It’s enough to claim all consciousness from you, your lips pushing out a breathless gasp in response.

“You’re gonna make me do something I’ll regret, aren’t you?”

A chuckle rings from Eren’s lips as you voiced what concern came into your mind. His hand loosens from your shoulder to drag past your skin, the curved tips of his fingers brushing along the pulse of your throat.

The heat that bleeds through your skin is one, a gut-wrenching lust that only he could ever cure. The pretty tint in his pink lips exudes an enticing plump, the plush mounds ever so slightly brushing past your own.

“No, gorgeous. I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. Just like you wanted a divorce is the same way you want this too—and I was never one to deny you anything. You can lie and make up some excuse, I’ll listen to it, promise I will. But as for this unspoken thing right now, you know I only believe in the inevitable.” 

“And what’s that? What's inevitable for us?”

The words weren’t given the chance to grace the air before Eren brings his lips to yours. It’s the overwhelming weight of his body cocooning yours and the push of his guiding kiss that runs your blood head and your mind hazy.

His hand braces at your waist, keeping you closer than ever. The thrill is the very thing that brings fear into your heart. You know it’s wrong, ultimately ruining your new relationship for something that could’ve been great. 

But when Eren’s grip on you is that of possessive implications, you can’t help but give into him and his whims. That’s why you allow yourself to let go, let go of everything that wasn’t him. The lead is all for him to take without any interference or doubt.

All it takes is a breath for you to relax in Eren’s hands, desperate to take every little thing in. From the way he teases your bottom lip with a swipe of his tongue to his hand trailing along the side of your body, it’s all with an inflaming rush claiming your body as a prisoner of an unruly lust.

It’s not until you find yourself laid along with the fluffy cushions of the velvet couch that Eren breaks away from the moment to answer your smoldering question. Eren’s chest is enough to pin you down, his body.

He can share in your restlessness, tugging at the pesky dress with just a sliver of his strength. Just the straps give way to his antics, leaving the supple mounds of your bouncing tits to greet his blinded eye.

His hands fled to cup at what he could, trapping your breast between his palms. He’s reluctant to peel away from your lips, but there’s something else that peeks at his attention. It began with a kiss between the valley of your chest, only to trail inwards to your flushed nipple. His teeth catch onto the stiff peak gently, using a teasing pulse to nip at the tender peaks.

The sensation alone is filled with confliction, the fine line between pleasure and pain blending into its own silver lining. He’s barring your nipple between his teeth so crudely but swipes at the sensitive slit with his tongue.

He’s even intent on leaving his mark on you, preying at the top of both your tits. A throbbing suckling takes place to work at Eren’s jaw until plumped blotches rise to the surface of your skin.  

“Think Jean would get mad if you had a few marks on you?” the rhetorical question bringing about foolish giggles from you both. 

As satisfaction finally reaches its heights in Eren’s favor, he retreats back onto his haunches for a moment, dragging your dress to reside around your ankles and off into the room. His hand clutches at his jeans’ clasp when something foreign hits him, a thought so crude he simply had to ask.

“Tell me Y/N? When was the last time you and Jean fucked?”

“It’s been…awhile. He’s so busy with work and all that I can’t seem to get even a second from him

“See, that’s where I, too, messed up with you, not giving my pretty baby all the attention she needs. I bet you’re just all pent up, can’t even use those fingers to get off how you need to.”

Eren’s words act as a distraction for you, pulling your attention elsewhere. It’s a distraction so great that you didn’t even notice your panties pulled from your hips or how his jeans now sat midway of his thighs, the plain tee rolled below his bulging pecs. He doesn’t feel too compelled to, but the doe eyes of desire tell him otherwise. 

“You wanna see more of me, hm? ‘M even supposed to be this close to you right now, Jean might find us right when I’m fucking my cum nice and deep into you. And well…you wouldn’t want that, since he makes you so happy, right?”

The whimper that leaves your lips is deathly, your small hands crashing against his chest. All Eren can do is grin, grin at the way you’ve fallen at his hand. He can’t deny you sadly, stripping free of what clothes did remain on his body. He groans in a faux aggravation as he hunches over you once more, the head of his cock nuzzled between your pried inner thigh. 

No, rather call it tears of a hidden relief, the pearly rivulets pearling right between your thigh’s crease. He’s making a mess of himself at the thought of you, whining for him just like the good ole days.

He’s nearly driven mad out of a desperate urgency, wanting the walls of your pussy to flutter around his girth. But such thirst isn’t without consequence, Eren has to remind you who held the power amongst you both. 

His hand ghosts over the fat lips of your cunt, the pad of his middle finger mischievously slinking through the coddling clasp of your pussy’s essence, only for the remainder of his fingers to follow through with a harsh slap right on the bulb of your clit.

“Beg for me, baby. Y’know I’d give you the world, but you gotta tell me what you want, ‘kay?” 

He knows it stings, the throbs weeping into his digits. He’s persistent on getting what he wants and knows exactly how. Unlike Jean, Eren knows that the stirring of your clit gets you each and every time. It serves as the perfect explanation as to why his digits almost fall back into place, the pad of his ring and middle fingers drumming at your hood. 

He’s lazy at first, just grazing the flush pearl with laggard swipes. It’s practically the cutest thing to him, playing with your clit as if an orgasm wasn’t the result. To the eye of another, one could have come to the same conclusion too with the way he toyed with your pussy. His digits lose their hold over your clit for the moment, reaching out to pry your lips apart.

His touch spreads down to your folds, the silky sheets hugging around the digits. He even arrived at your entrance, thumping at the slit with his finger’s pad. When he does return to your clit, it’s not with the same care-free nature he began with—far from it.

The lazy circle grew into something related to art, sparsity replaced with strategy. He’s careful, only ever nudging at the perked bulb when. He can feel the blood rushing to his touch, forcing your clit to peck at his fingers uninvitingly.

“E-Eren, please! P-...Please fuck me, I really need it–fuck–give it to—”

“Aww, look at you. I thought you’d never ask!”

Eren rips his fingers from your puffy pussy just to latch onto his cock, smearing your slick along his shaft. The angle he brings himself to is high, ensuring he’d hit all your sweet spots with a single drive. 

Eren doesn’t even bother to tease you anymore, he’s so drunk off how pretty your pussy gushed with a cry that he’s already introducing you to the head of his cock. The fat crown of pink sinks right through, a reaping squelch trapping his cock inside. He’s compelled to fill you, hips diving without a lick of resistance.

He can tell of your struggles, walls clamping down just when he’s halfway in. That’s when he’s reminded of how cold it can be, the room’s temperature lacing around the unclaimed length greedily. He wants to snap his hips, end it all on his term, but your hands bracing his hips hint at another story in tow.

“Fuck! Y’re so big, Eren! J-Just give me a sec!"

“Nuh-uh, if I slow down, you aren’t gonna be able to see how. Remember now, how big your ‘Ren was and how nice he stretched you? I bet you’re feeling it now, pretty pussy can’t even take it all…but… you will, I’ll make sure of it.”

Your lips can’t help but unwind at his words. It’s the greed in your core and the spite in his words that force your hand, sending your digits to the lips of your pussy. Your fingers pull at the silky flesh carefully, the burning pricking at your slit.

“O-Okay, just take it easy on me. It’s s’ much fr’ me right now, but I can take it!” 

“You’re slurring and I haven’t even hit your tummy yet…look who's cockdrunk, baby? Feels good, doesn’t it?”

His taunts are paired with the endless fervor of his cock, the final stretch finally resting snug between your walls. There’s a relishing ring of a tainted white adorning the base of his cock, courtesy of your essence spilling around Eren’s shaft. He’s eager to watch every moment he has with you, pushing your buckling knees to your chest. 

God, does your pussy look so perfect like this? So swollen yet still choking on the full brute of his cock. There’s little room existing among you both, considering how his pelvis smothered your clit without having to move.

He’s splitting you apart but here you are, taking every thick inch like a champ. You’re so tight around him too, just barely giving Eren the space to flourish. A suffocating heaven is all he can call it, the dark hues of vivid veins brimming with elation.

He almost feels bad for reeling back, pulling all of his hard-earned efforts from you. But there’s a lewd, near sinister, manner in how Eren chooses to go about this now. His hips snap to meet your own, burying his cock deeper than where he began.

Why, he’s so deep, he swears he can spot a bulge right from your tummy. That mere figment of his imagination is all it takes to spur him down the feverish road of bliss, bullying the stubborn clench out of your walls. 

He’s pulling at all you’ve ever known, coaxing the overwhelming rouse to taunt your riled nerves, the tight entrance still clinging with every draw. Not to mention how each time his cock does return to its post, your jaw loses all hold to cry out his name. The clashes of skin prove his case furthermore, how the passion rages deep within his soul.

It’s not his fault you’re so warm, so wet, and so whiny for more. The enveloping heat has Eren’s body running hot, thriving off of a pure rush of guilt and lust. He should feel bad, for ruining what healthy relationship you created for his own selfish needs. But he can’t help that each drag pulls at his own mental, Eren falling into the damned state of addiction.

It’s at the height of your impending orgasm that Eren’s taking in just how fucked out you are. As numb as you are to everything in your environment, he’s aware of it all.

He can see the spools of drool rolling down your chin, joined with fat tears blotting your cheeks, and hear the subtle jingles of keys hitting the outside of your apartment. He brings his lips to your soiled pairs, mumbling off something he knows you couldn’t begin to acknowledge.

“Remember what you asked earlier? What's inevitable for you and me?”

His words lead through the door's creaks, the burly voice of one Jean Kirstein making his presence known.

"Y/N! I'm home! We have a few hours to kill before the kids are-"

And as numb as you are to what was to come, Eren can't bring himself to stop. No, he'd rather ruin you through the building tension, his hips rolling deeper than before. Eren wants to be as deep as possible, to force his cock to house your womb and numb you from the inside out.

It's the only way he sees that will protect you from the incoming onslaught of pain. But, he does offer you some solace, supplying you with a single fact that proves itself to be true.

“Well, it’s us...us coming right back together.”

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[disastrouscanasta]

more of the clegan wip which refuses to cooperate with me

be warned that this is definitely a lot smuttier than the last bit. it’s all safe sane and consensual, but it is angstier

Gale was gentle with him, it burnt a pathetic pain deep in John’s gut.

“I won’t shatter.” He said, just under his breath, but they were close enough together as Gale moved inside him that he heard easily. “Pick up your pace, I don't mind.”

“I know you won’t.” They’d done it before, been harsher and tougher when they had little time. Gale had always understood his wants and needs so intrinsically. John wondered if he’d broken something between them, if the sudden disconnect was his fault.

Gale pressed a soft, sweet kiss to the base of John’s neck. It was everything that John could have wanted, and still somehow nothing. It felt like a goodbye, like Gale was apologising for the fact that their inevitable conclusion was finally upon them. Gale must have kissed women on the cheek the same way when he turned them down, this was what Gale’s high school flings would have gotten, if Gale had ever bothered to have them.

He wanted Gale to do better, to bruise John’s hips with the hands that hovered there gently, to scar John’s skin with his blunt nails and to fuck him hard enough that he’d feel it in the morning, in a week. He wanted Gale to give him more, more pleasure, more of his care, more time.

John also knew that wasn’t fair.

His head tipped back, his shoulders hit Gale’s chest as he arched into the small touches, seeking them out and soaking them in.

He wondered if Gale went this slow to prepare himself for his marriage to Marge. If he was getting ready to carry on his life without the chaos and terror of the war on his heels, without the ticking clock that urged them to go go go, be quick, don’t get caught, the sound that John heard along with each beat of his heart.

John wished that they were face-to-face, instead of having Gale curled around him, laying with both of them facing towards the wall of the room. It’s me, remember? He wanted to say. I can take it, whatever you’re giving, I can take it.

But he didn’t. He kept his head down and just felt. Taking in each point of contact, each little breath that Gale exhaled against John’s back. Gale’s hands rested on his hips, John laid his own over one, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tightly. Gale moved in and out of him consistently, rocking their hips together.

He felt a jolt through his spine, John bit out a gasp.

“Easy.” Gale muttered. “Y’alright?”

“Do that again.” He said.

Gale did, John felt the bitter sort of arousal that he’d been building shift suddenly, replaced by a glorious heat that spread through his stomach to his chest. It was Gale, he was with Gale. He was meant to savour a moment like this, not wish it away to spite himself.

“God.” John said. He heard Gale huff his own kind of  laugh at the curse. He pictured Gale’s exasperated smile, the one he used when John did something stupid or embarrassing, when he said something that he knew would make him laugh.

So focused on Gale, it took a moment to remember that his own cock was painfully hard, and that he hadn’t touched himself properly since they’d prepared. He fumbled for a moment, letting go of Gale’s hand to grab the base of his own cock.

“Let me.” Gale told him, reaching around. “I’ve got you.”

If Gale thought of Marge at this moment, John felt bad for her. There would be a very awkward wedding night if Gale took note of anything that he and John had gotten up to. It was reassuring, knowing that Gale’s mind couldn’t stray too far from the here-and-now, not when he had his friend’s cock in his hand.

“Relax.” Gale said. “You’re stiff as a board. Can’t be comfortable.”

It was and it wasn’t, he felt the stretch of it through his whole body as Gale got him off, still keeping a slow pace inside him. It was impressive how Gale could be so coherent during all this.

“I’m alright.” John said. “Don’t gotta worry about me.”

The last few words were followed by a sharp intake of air as Gale pushed deeper. Their bodies were sticky with sweat, vaseline and precome. John was astonished at how quickly it took for a room to smell like sex. He wondered, distantly, if it took long to fade, or if he’d be sleeping in a bunk clouded with stale arousal by himself for the foreseeable future.

In that moment though, it was difficult to conceive any thought outside of Gale‘s hands on him, so he decided to let it go. To let himself relax, letting the warmth flow from the centre of his chest to the toss of his fingers. It was unfortunate how quickly he could feel himself brought to the edge of his climax.

“I’m close.” He muttered. Close to Gale, close to coming, close to the end of everything. His world was tipped on its axis in many ways, his grasp of the present, past, and future bore no weight on the feeling of Gale inside him.

“Go on.” Buck urged, rocking his hips to earn himself a strangled sound. “Go on, I’ve got you.”

[imarvelatthestars]

The Clone Comm Program: Wolffe, Part 1

Pairings: Wolffe x Reader; a bit of platonic Coruscant Guard x Reader

Warnings: swearing

Notes: I saw a post about Plo Koon setting his boys up with people because he's a mischief dad and this felt like the perfect opportunity to explore the utter chaos that would be.

This was also a little bit inspired by allisgalaxy's 'Moth to Flame'.

It's a joke. A great, cosmic, stupid joke entirely at your expense because why wouldn't it be? You're half convinced Thire and Thorn are in on it, too. Hells, if the whole Corrie Guard had set you up, you wouldn't be nearly as surprised as you are right now.

"Stop laughing," you all but snarl in Thorn's direction.

He can't even breathe, the bastard. Fox is probably just as tickled, but he wears it well. The helmet helps, you suppose. The line of his shoulders are rigid and his hands are braced on his waist, but there's something about the tilt of his head that tells you he's probably smirking at you. Fucking nerfherder.

"Fine." You cross your arms with all the petulance of a youngling as you slump in your seat, back arched into the wall. "I'll just stay in here forever."

"Sorry, Birdie. We're kicking you out."

You can feel your nostrils flare as a surge of irritation burns in your chest. "I'll kick you in a second."

The controls chime at Fox's manipulation and the containment barrier fizzles out. You're free. So why does it feel like you're exchanging one cage for another?

"You got off easy this time. I wouldn't be whining about it if I were you."

It's no big deal to them, of course. They work with men like Wolffe all the time. Something like this wouldn't be such a big deal for them, but to you it might as well be the end.

"Stop by 79's tonight," he offers when you nudge the toe of his boot with your own. "Have a drink with us, unwind."

Thorn claps a hand on your shoulder with another laugh. "Yeah, if you can manage not t' steal anything. Wouldn't want to rack up more hours, would you?"

You roll your eyes. Sometimes you really have to swallow the urge to smack these guys hard enough to knock the buckets off their stupid heads. "I make no promises." It comes out with a bit of a grimace.

Fox laughs this time. "We'll keep the cell open for ya, Birdie. Now get outta here."

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Community kriffing service. It's enough to get a laugh out of you because this is the farthest fucking thing. This is just plain cruel. If it were anyone else, it would be fine. If it were any of the Guard or hells, even if it were one of those crazy boys from Kenobi's battalion, you wouldn't feel so miserable, so utterly doomed. But no. The Maker, the Force, something out there wanted you to suffer.

You swipe through the search results on your pad and each holopic is like another nail in the coffin. Maybe this is payback for all the shoplifting. It's not that impossible.

A news holo of the Commander flashes across the screen and your stomach fucking drops. It's from last year's arrest, just after he'd put the binders on you if memory serves. His bucket is upside down on the ground, his mouth curled into a sneer, and you're mid-shout, still fighting him even with your arms rendered immobile. White hot embarrassment floods through you and it takes all your self control not to fling your pad across the room.

How are you supposed to be his comm partner when you know for a fact that this man hates you?

General Plo seems to be enjoying himself. A little too much, if he's being honest. There's an aura of being entirely too pleased with himself that threatens to bowl Wolffe over ever time he looks in his direction. His eyes shift to Sinker, Boost, and Comet, throwing back shots and howling with laughter while casting him incredibly, painfully obvious glances. He rolls his eyes. He suspected this was a set-up from the start. He should have told the General no.

A new song starts playing over the speakers, something upbeat and heavy in the bass, and it makes his ears hurt. Maker, this was a mistake.

"Wolffe, you made it!"

It's Fox. Kriffing fuck, of course. That's why the boys were so eager to go out tonight, that's why they dragged the General into it. Because of Fox.

"What do you want?"

Fox smirks and Wolffe has to work hard at flexing his hand so he doesn't punch that shiteating expression off his stupid face. "Good to see you too, brother. We were starting to think you weren't coming."

He rolls his eyes again. He almost hopes they get stuck back there like the General's teased him about before, if only so he has a viable excuse to get out of this skughole. Because this is not his scene, never has been. If he wanted to get wasted, he'd settle into his cot back on base and work through a bottle of Corellian whiskey on his own, thank you very much. And Fox knows better. At least he ought to.

One of Fox's men, he thinks it's Thire, suddenly whoops and points over to the entrance. Fox's head snaps to the side; his eyes narrow, searching, and then his entire face lights up. Must be something pretty impressive to get that kaf addict to smile like that. Not that he cares, of course.

The Guard erupts into delighted calls of "Birdie!" and it's making his headache worse. Must everyone be so damn cheerful? And loud? Why in the galaxy did he let himself get talked into coming here? He's about to call this whole night off and hail a taxi back to base when something comes bursting into the corner of his vision.

"What did I miss?"

He can't see your face with the way you've angled yourself toward the Guard, one arm around Thire's shoulders in greeting and the other swiping playfully at Thorn's cap, but he can see about everything else. The swell of your back, the shine of the lights on your shoulders, the clasp of your necklace where its slipped halfway down your neck, and he sighs, defeated. Great. Another girlfriend. He hates it when the boys bring their dates - it never ends well.

"We were just saying hi to some of our brothers over in the 104th," Fox explains and Wolffe doesn't miss the sparkle in his brother's eyes. That look can only mean trouble. "Here. Allow me to introduce you."

Wolffe almost feels bad for you as you're suddenly spun around to face him and the pack. Almost. Instead he turns to the droid that's passing by and orders himself a drink. He's going to need it, he can already tell.

"...to meet you, ma'am." There goes Comet, ever the gentleman.

"And of course you remember General Plo and Commander Wolffe?"

The air shifts in an instant. The General has extended a hand to you, Fox is grinning like an idiot, and you look like you've just seen a ghost. There's a panic stricken terror in your eyes that rattles Wolffe down to the bone. You're afraid of him. You haven't even moved to take the General's hand. And he doesn't fully understand why it bothers him, but it does.

"I certainly remember you, little one," the General laughs and it snaps you out of your head long enough to recall some basic decorum. The trembling handshake you offer him is borderline pathetic. "Though I seem to recall you going by a different name when last we met."

That has Wolffe frowning. How does he know you?

Thorn pops his head over your shoulder. "Birdie's not her real name, General, we just call 'er that 'cause she's always landing herself in a cell."

"She's our little jail bird." Fox's grin is almost painful to look at.

And even though he knows better, even though he doesn't want to engage, even though it really rubs him wrong that you look scared shitless by his mere presence and this certainly won't help, it comes tumbling out anyway. "You sure know how to pick 'em, Commander." Your eyes go wide. "I didn't know they let just anyone in here."

You're gone before he can even blink, disappearing into the crowd like mist. He thinks he sees a whisper of your hair caught in a beam of pink light as you bolt outside, but he can't be certain. All he knows is that the Corries are eyeballing him like he's done something wrong when they're the ones dating criminals and Fox, stupid, annoying, silver at the temples because he thinks he's hot shit Fox, has his arms crossed low on chest and something smug on his face.

The night goes sour for him soon after. Half the boys are drunk off their asses, half of them are sucking face with scantily clad natborns, and all he can think of is a sonic shower and some peace and fucking quiet. He lets the General trail outside with him while he hails a taxi.

"I have something for you, Wolffe."

A speeder pulls to a stop right in front of them and the Weequay in the driver's seat hollers for him to hop in.

Wolffe opens the door and sticks one leg in so the Weequay can't go off without him. "Yes, sir?"

A slim, shiny comm pad is offered in the General's claws, one of the newer models that's mostly restricted to higher ranking officers and Jedi. He hasn't gotten one yet nor has he been interested, so this is a strange gift for the General to impart. Somewhere near the top of the pad is a little blue light, blinking steadily off and on.

"What is this?"

If ever there was a time where the General appeared to be smiling, this was it. Even worse, it reminded him a bit of Fox. "I took the liberty of enrolling each of the Pack in the new comms program. This one is yours. And I believe your new comm partner has already sent you something."

The speeder jostles slightly as the driver turns around in his seat. "Hey, buddy, you getting in or what?"

Wolffe's headache is back. "Sir, is this part of that morale boosting nonsense the GAR implemented last month?"

The General nods. "The very same." He rests a heavy hand on the trooper's shoulder. "Now get some rest. I will see you in the morning."

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

That damned notification light is going to drive him insane. If he sees it flash blue one more time, he's going to chuck it out the window. Or snap it in half. Maybe he'll march himself right on down to the Jedi Temple and ask the General what the hell he was thinking when he signed him up for this bantha shit.

This is ridiculous. I don't have the time for this! Am I supposed to be chatting with some ignorant civvy when I'm on the battlefield? In my spare time when I'm not getting shot at by clankers? His elbows are digging into his knees and his hands are fisted almost painfully under his chin. I am a Commander. I do not have the time nor the patience for a- for a friend! Frankly, it's offensive the General thought he even needed one when he has his brothers. That's all he needs, all he's ever needed.

The pad is briefly illuminated in a tiny sliver of blue light and something inside him snaps. He types his CC number in and finds himself bathed in obnoxiously white light. It's another strike against this whole thing, against whatever idiot is on the other side of the screen sending him messages in the first place.

I'll be honest, I'm not really sure how to do this. (It's a terrible start. Strike three.) And I'm more than a little intimidated because everyone on Coruscant knows about the Wolf Pack. I'm surprised you even signed up.

I don't want to bother you, Commander, and I don't want to bore you, either. So I'm letting you take the lead here. If you want to know anything about me, I'm an open book. Mostly. If you want to share about yourself, the war, the Pack, I'd be honored to listen.

The original message ends there, but there's a second comm below it that was sent about a minute later. The time stamp is from before he even got to 79's.

By the way, you can call me Birdie.

And it's like the universe crumbles, but it's crumbling into place instead of falling apart around him. Because he suddenly realizes why the woman at 79's felt so off, why she looked so terrified by him. Because he remembers the day he arrested you.

[cowboyemeritus]

My Bloody Valentine (Papa II/Reader)

Secondo has earned this. Obviously, he does these things because he loves you, but moments like this one are always an added bonus. (18+)

Read on AO3

Just gonna put a small cw for blood because PMS hit me like a train and inspired me to write a Secondo period sex ficlet for Valentine's Day (even though it is now the 15th... Don't worry about it...)

Despite his reputation, Secondo knows how to turn on the romance when necessary. He’s pulled out all the stops tonight: roses, nice wine, and a box of your favorite chocolates (even though they’re the cheap kind from the drugstore). It’s right in that sweet spot between the Emeritus urge to be Extra and your preference for more laid-back endeavors. 

Secondo has earned this. Obviously, he does these things because he loves you, but moments like this one are always an added bonus. He’s got you on his bed, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks into you ravenously. Though he’s only just bottomed out, you’re already crying out for more, nails digging ever so slightly into his back. The foreplay had been rushed, the both of you far too impatient to delay the main event any longer. But fortunately, in your current state, neither of you were too concerned about lubrication. Secondo, ever his mother’s son, was worried about the bedsheets, however, and had slid a fluffy black towel under you just before sinking into your wet heat.

With a little coaxing over the course of the night, he had managed to turn the cramping in your abdomen into throbbing desire. He’ll admit, he was more than a little excited when you grumbled about getting your period on Valentine’s Day, but can you blame him? How else was he, Mr. Body and Blood himself, supposed to react? The way your bloodied cunt squelches with every thrust is a gift in an of itself (although he sincerely appreciates the lovely dinner you made for him). If he had his way, he’d be devouring more than just a rare steak this evening, but after being his beloved for so long, he knows your limits without even having to ask.

“Fuck, Papa,” you mewl. “I- oh!” A sob wrenches itself out of your throat when the head of his cock hits that one spot inside you just right. You already sound and feel dangerously close, and with all the hormones coursing through your body, Secondo reckons he could have you cumming for him all night if he wanted to. Perhaps you could even hit a new record.

“Yes, uccellina?” He asks, voice low and husky. “Go on, tell your Papa how you feel.” 

You nod frantically, but the moment you try to get a word out, Secondo starts hammering himself into that patch of spongy flesh. The way your walls squeeze around him, combined with the slight metallic smell in the air, has that coil of energy growing just a bit tighter inside of him. Your wail is piercing - you always get a little louder after a few glasses of wine - and Secondo can’t help but feel a little smug. The walls in this old abbey are thin, and Terzo is just down the hall, sick in bed with a particularly nasty case of the flu. Even in full health, he’s a light sleeper. Let the bastard hear, he thinks. He knows what he’s missing.

“I feel- ah!” At this rate, you’re going to scream your throat raw. You take a hard gulp of air before speaking again. “You- oh- Papa, you’re gonna make me cum. Please, let me, please.”

When you beg like that, how can Secondo possibly refuse? Straightening out, he reaches a hand down to rub at your clit with his thumb. Gathering your slick, he looks to where the two of you are connected and shudders. The desperate rutting has caused your menses to spread across both yours and his thighs, your skin sticking together with each thrust. His cock is absolutely covered in it, and the sight is like a punch in the gut, flinging him exponentially closer to his release.

“Amore mio,” he rumbles, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. There’s no resisting you like this. For as tough as Secondo likes to act in front of the congregation and his brothers, you are an entirely different beast. “Vieni per me, con me.”

Stroking your clit in time with each thrust, it doesn’t take long for Secondo to have you falling over the edge. You throw your head back as your orgasm hits, pulling his body flush with yours. The way your cunt spasms has him coming undone as well, spilling into you with a groan. Time stands still as you catch your breath in each other’s arms, Secondo careful to not put his full weight on you.

“I love you, baby,” you finally manage to pant out. He hums in response, rolling off of you and laying down by your side. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” You run your fingers through the drying red slick on your thigh and make a face before wiping it off on the towel. The entire display, both of you so debauched and covered in your blood, makes his softening cock begin to stir again.

“E ti amo anch’io, mia cara.” He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead. You giggle and return the gesture, sighing contentedly.

“That oughta make things better for… I don’t know, maybe thirty minutes?” You place a hand over your womb, still basking in the afterglow of your orgasm and the relief it brings. Secondo can’t help but smile. It’s tender, something only you can pull out of him. He reaches over to cup your cheek.

“You know,” he says, a flicker of deviance in his glare. “If you hate it that much…” He places his hand over yours. “I can always make it go away for longer.” Before you can burst out laughing, he’s smothering you with his mouth, fingertips wandering downward to reignite the fire in you both.

Oh yeah, Secondo has definitely earned this.

[cavehags]

i know we're all hyped about roy and jamie training sessions but i do hope the show addresses roy's tendency to angry outbursts not just around jamie but directed at him. i really thought we were past this shit but the trying to lunge at him because he assumes jamie told the team about his break up and that bullshit move of flicking food from his fork and making him clean it were just clear evidence roy's got some work to do on himself

(2/2) it feels especially shitty 'cause they had made progress and he comforted jamie after the fight with his father you would think he'd know not to do that shit and it's not like jamie doesn't react in ways that would tell roy that he maybe should watch his fucking steps because jamie doesn't laugh roy's anger when it's directed at him, he flinches, he looks scared. i'm just really hoping the writers address this pattern soon

this may sound harsh, but: this is a comedy show. in comedy, heightened reactions are quite normal. the intent is for the viewer to find the heightened reality humorous, rather than to consider the character reprehensible for it. that is just how it works.

for instance, to use a fandom darling on a show tumblr loved dearly, consider rosa diaz on brooklyn nine nine, a woman who threatened colleagues with death regularly (a credible threat from a police officer, no less) and famously told a room of her coworkers that if any harm came to her dog, she would murder everyone in the office and then kill herself. conversations have evolved surrounding that show as the copaganda discourse kicked into high gear a few years ago, but i do not remember anyone ever saying that rosa's threat was real and she needed to learn anger management -- nor do i remember anyone laying on especially thick sympathy because jake peralta had a hard childhood and was really scared of her.

in comedy, we are asked to accept that characters act and react in ways that might be problematic (original definition) in life. you have to get that in order to enjoy it as an art form. a character lunging at someone else and needing to be held back by a comically large team of people is such a disney-channel-ass overdone joke that i am shocked that anyone could be treating it seriously. (if we ARE taking it so seriously, should we go a step further and question the physical mechanics behind why roy, a two-years-retired coach played by a 42 year old man with - i'm sorry to say - limited muscular definition, would require quite so many active professional athletes to restrain him? no, because we get that this isn't meant to be hyperrealistic. in other words, it is a joke. so is flinging food on the wall.)

but furthermore, i also want to quibble with your claims about who roy is as a person and what jamie thinks of him. jamie most certainly is not scared of roy - in 3x02, he laughs when roy is yelling at the team and he says flat-out that he thinks roy's anger is funny. jamie, again, is a professional athlete at his physical peak. he is not afraid of getting flicked on the nuts by a man he called granddad. i think there's a real danger of woobifying jamie as a poor widdle victim of abuse who cannot operate with dignity in the masculine sphere of professional football and i urge you not to succumb to that mentality. jamie was a dressing room bully, he can give as good as he gets, and he plainly enjoys getting a rise out of roy for whatever reason (i like to posit that it's a very particular reason but ymmv). he spent all of season one winding roy up and calling him names. funny way to express that you're terrified of someone if you ask me.

lastly, as far as where the show is heading? it's quite clear to me that we ARE going to get to a place where roy and jamie understand each other better and communicate with less tension than they had between them at the start. the show has spelled out in explicit, unmissable dialogue that roy sees jamie as a younger version of himself. the show has also shown us that roy doesn't like himself very much and isn't convinced he deserves love. so i do think his hostility toward jamie can be understood through that lens -- and the show spoon-fed us that information about roy in the hopes that we would understand his behaviour in context. the natural conclusion of roy's arc is for him to learn to accept love and kindness in his own life, and acknowledge that he deserves it. and jamie, as an extension of his self-image, should reap the rewards of that lesson too. if you continue watching this workplace sitcom, i do hope you keep that in mind!

[whumpasaurus101]

Like Father, Like Son

THIS ONE IS A BIT LONGER THAN THE OTHERS CAUSE I GOT A BIT CARRIED AWAY-

SORRY IF THERES ERRORS I THINK I FIXED MOST OF THEM THOUGH-

---

From the minute Asher woke up, he knew he was quite frankly, fucked. Rodger was in one of his shitty moods, having a hissy fit over god knows what.

He didn’t even bother knocking on the door, “Get up, we have guests.”

“You know, normal people knock.”

Rodger stormed over to the bed, striking Asher hard across the face before grabbing him by a fistful of the hair, “I don’t have the time, nor patience for any of your talking back today, do you hear me?!?” He snarled against Asher’s ear.

Asher was barely fazed as he blinked up at the man, “I mean… you never really do-“ That’s when Rodger lost it. He flung Asher to the ground in a haste, “Let me make myself very clear,” Rodger growled, stepping forward and grabbing the front of Asher’s shirt. He hauled him up until Asher was back standing and quickly slammed him against the wall, leaning in close, “I will not hear any talking back from you. If I do, I swear to you, Asher, I will make you scream until your vocal chords are no more, am I understood?”

Asher wheezed out a breath. Normally Rodger would be too dumb to even come up with a threat, but looking into Rodger’s eyes -which he’d rather not do- Asher could tell Rodger was serious. All he managed was a slight nod but Rodger’s grip against him didn’t allow him to nod much.

Rodger held his gaze before dropping him to the ground, “Get changed, I left clothes in your bathroom. Be ready in ten and make sure you look perfect.” He left before Asher could even fit in a snarky comment. Asher gave himself a moment, resting his head against the wall as he let out a shaky sigh, waiting for the world to stop spinning. Once he managed to get to his feet, he took the quickest shower he could and slipped into his usual outfit for when guests came over. Black trousers, a belt, and a white button-up shirt.

He looked in the mirror, straightening out his shirt before ruffling his damp hair. He noted how long it was getting, but that's the thing, Rodger liked it to be long enough to grab so he could just fling Asher around the place. Just as he started to brush his teeth, Rodger burst through, “Come on, they’ll be here any time now!!!”

Asher simply rolled his eyes, spitting into the sink before continuing to brush his teeth, ignoring Rodger who simply frowned and fixed Asher’s hair to his liking. Asher clung tightly to his toothbrush as he resisted the urge to shove Rodger away. Then Rodger tsked, reaching his arms around Asher and unbuttoned the first two buttons of Asher’s shirt. That made Asher spit out his toothpaste before shoving Rodger away, “Fuck off, I can look after myself.”

Rodger raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, “Watch it.” Was all he growled before walking out, “Get downstairs, I made breakfast.” 

Asher’s stomach growled at the mention of food. He finished brushing his teeth before pacing to the kitchen, eyes falling to the two plates on the table. “Take a seat.”

It had been a while since Rodger and Asher sat at a table together for breakfast. He normally would be forced to kneel beside Roder, forced to eat out of Rodger’s palm. And if he didn't? Then he got nothing. So Asher was slightly hesitant sitting down. 

“Pancake?” Asher asked, looking from his plate to Rodger, remembering all his chats with Jack about pancakes. Rodger nodded, ruffling Asher’s hair, “Look at you learning things!” For the first time in a while, Asher didn’t want to bite Rodger’s hand off, but he gave a quiet growl in warning. 

“Don't get any butter on your shirt or I swear to god-” “I knowww, I knowww,” Asher groaned, “I swear you can’t go five minutes without using some random threat in your sentence” Just before Asher could take another bite from his pancake, Rodger smacked upside Asher’s head.

“Hurry up and eat.”

Asher just rolled his eyes, finishing off his breakfast. It was a few minutes later until he dared to ask Rodger a question, “Who’s coming over?”

Rodger sat down, sipping from his glass of orange juice- the ice cubes clinking against each other, “None of you business.” Asher scoffed, “Well, from how you're acting, you’d think your father was coming ove-”

Asher was soon cut off as he was backhanded across the face.

“Ah,” Asher sighed, “I now know who’s coming over. Man, I mean, it explains why you’ve been such a di-” Asher quickly stopped himself from talking, flinching as Rodger pulled back his hand, stopping just before he slapped him.

Rodger’s eyes slightly widened as he heard the doorbell ringing and Asher chuckled quietly, “I bet you can't wait for him to meet me.” Rodger stood up straight, completely ignoring him as he walked to the front door. Asher thought he could be decent enough so he put both of their plates into the dishwasher before standing at the doorway, nervously cracking his knuckles as he waited.

The man was a stout man, glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose and short pepper and salt coloured hair. He was just under Asher’s height but Asher could tell this man thought he had everybody and everyone under him.

Behind him, followed a blonde haired lady. Walking in heels that were way too tall for her to walk in as she shimmied in. Her nails were long but unlike Alicia, they were bright pink. She smiled brightly, kissing Rodger on the cheek. As the three grew closer, Asher was able to catch a bit more as to what they were saying, but not much.

“Dad, Kimberly, this is Asher, he’s still in training right now-” lie “but he seems to be improving!” Lie. “Asher, this is my dad, Nikos, but you will refer him to sir, alright?” 

The man held out his hand, Asher just blankly stared at it, looking to Rodger with furrowed eyebrows. Rodger rolled his eyes with a growl, his face blushing slightly in embarrassment, “Shake his hand, mutt-” He quickly looked up to his father apologetically, “He doesn't really have much…common sense…”

The man gave Rodger a disapproving look before it moved to Asher. Although Asher’s father looked quite similar to Rodger, Asher felt slightly intimidated by the man. He forced himself not to take a stepback as he took in a shaky breath, steadying himself. 

“What’s he good for?” The man asked, eyes not leaving Asher’s as he spoke to Rodger. Asher went to speak but Rodger subtly jabbed him in the side, flashing him a glare in warning.

“Uhm… well he competes in fights in our local gym which Antonio runs.”

Asher felt the man’s eyes look him up and down once as he spoke, “Is he any good?”

“Yeah! He’s won about ninety percent of his matches.” Lie.

“Well then, I’ll have to come watch one of them!!!”

Rodger jabbed at Asher’s side once more as Asher snorted a laugh, “Will you excuse us a moment?” Rodger didn't wait for a response before grabbing Asher by the arm and dragging him out to the hall. Asher was smirking, holding in a laugh as he watched the vein on Rodger’s forehead fully popped out. 

He was soon snapped back to reality though when Rodger slapped him hard across the face, “Asher, I swear to fucking god, if you don't watch your fucking mouth, you and I are going to have a problem. I am asking you to behave just for while my father’s here…I am asking for this one thing!!! I never a-”

“Oh please!” Asher scoffed, “How many fucking times do I have to tell you this, I’m not your fucking ‘pet’-,” He spat, taking a step towards Rodger and shoving him back as he jabbed a finger against Rodger’s chest, “-Nor will I ever be your pet. So fuck right off an-”

“Is there a problem?”

Asher froze for a moment, his back seizing up as he clenched his jaw. He noticed how Rodger also tensed. “N-no, father, I-”

“Don’t lie to me, Rodger.”

“I- Y-you…I-” Rodger sighed, clicking his tongue as he clenched and unclenched his fists. He let out a final sigh of frustration before speaking, “Asher…has some… behavior issues. He..doesn’t exactly… know his place.”

“Is that true?” Nikos asked. Asher’s back was still facing him, Asher rolled his eyes with a scoff, “Listen, man, I don't have a ‘place’, your son is fucked up- which, let's be honest, is most likely your fault,” Asher turned around to face Nikos, smile painting his lips as he dared to take a step closer, “You’re all the same. Rich, stuck up people who are so far up their asses that they forget how to act like a decent human fucking be-”

“-Aiden Williams.”

Asher froze, feeling his stomach flip as the colour drained from his face, “Wh-what..?”

“Ah,” Nikos smiled, “So you are familiar with the name.”

“What’s it to you?” Asher growled, eyes hardening.

This time it was Nikos’ turn to take a step forward, smirking when Asher couldn't help but step backwards with a gulp. “Easy, pup,” Niko smirked, “Aiden Williams,” He hummed. Asher growled, grabbing two fistfulls of Niko’s waistcoat, “Stop fucking saying his name,” Asher roared, only to be thrown a left hook which sent him flying, sprawled onto the floor with a loud thud.

“I would watch your mouth, if I were you,” Niko hummed, advancing towards the boy with long strides. Asher groaned, curling in on himself, “G-good thing you're not me then..” A hand roughly carded through his curls, quickly tightening into a fist as his head was yanked up. A cry escaped Asher, his eyes unwillingly meeting Niko’s cold gaze. 

“‘M g-gonna get sss-sick-” Asher whimpered.

Rodger watched from a distance, still slightly digesting what was happening. He knew he couldn’t interfere or try to stop Nikos. “Father..I-”

“Quiet,” Nikos turned back to Asher, smirking as he watched blood roll down Asher’s chin from his lip, “Aiden was never fond of that busted lip, hm?” Asher reeled, trying to pry Nikos’ hand from his hair, “I’m warning you, shut your fucking mouth,” He growled, only to be slammed face-first into the wall.

Ruining your pretty perfect face…

Watch it, your getting blood on the carpet.

No one will ever love you when you look all roughed up like that, Danny.

Once he was let go, Asher’s glazed-over eyes blinked once, twice, before he let out a groan, “Ffff-fuck….” He rolled onto his back, blinking up at the ceiling, groaning as Niko soon stepped into his view, letting out a sigh of disspointment, “He never quite liked that bad language of yours either…”

Asher could practically feel the glass shards in his mouth… 

Hold still, Danny. Don't you prefer this? So much more quiet, so well behaved. No bad evil language, juuuuuust perfect, my dove.

A shudder ran through Ashers spine with a whimper, a tear slowly falling down his cheek as he let out a sob, “Ho-how do you kn-know all this?” Asher rasped, trying to remind himself who he's with. Aiden wasn't here. He was safe.

“There’s a reason I haven't met you sooner, Asher. I like to do my research. When Aiden heard that my son now owned you, he just insisted on a visit.”

Asher’s head snapped to Rodger, desperate for his father to be lying. 

“F-father… what did you do..?”

Just then, the doorbell rang. Nikos beamed, “Our guest has arrived.”

Asher was-for the first time in a while- lost for words. Tears streamed down his face. Nononono this can’t be true, this couldn't be happening!!!

Nikos rushed to the door, leaving both Asher and Rodger in shocked silence. The radiators’ humming were the only sound to be hear before a voice that made Asher feel sick to his stomach sounded from the doorway.

“Oh, my dove, how I have missed you!!!”

---

Taglist: @likeit-or-whumpit @milk-carton-whump @yesthisiswhump @appy-polly-loggies @happy-whumper @tears-and-lilies @whumpkinpie @shywhumpauthor @thecursedscribbler @whump-queen (LMK IF YOU WANNA BE ADDED OR REMOVED O(∩_∩)O )

[forget-you-morelike-fuck-you]

Tyrant's Reign

A date with Eddie and Steve goes awry when some douchebag decides it's a good idea to try to take you home.

Masterlist

TW- Cursing, mentions of violence, mention of SA, mention of blood, pet names, innuendo, mentions of drinking/drunkenness, angst, fluff at the end

Pairing- Steve x Eddie x Reader

Word Count- 1,824

(Gif not mine! Credit to owner!)

Date nights are the best. Having a man on each arm, both doting on you like you hold the world in your hands, getting to show off to everyone how much you love them and are loved by them… Yeah, that’s some good stuff.

Tonight is Eddie’s pick for your date, so you all go to a local rock show. You’re excited, putting on a cute high cut pair of shorts and combat boots, Steve’s flannel over a simple black tank top. You all walk in together and find a place amongst the crowd to wait for the show to begin, Eddie shoving through to get close to the front for a good view. As you stand and wait, the room getting more crowded by the minute, Steve and Eddie look to you.

“You want a drink, baby? We can go grab some really quick,” Steve offers. You smile and nod, telling him your drink order, then watch as Eddie and Steve wade through the sea of black studded clothing toward the bar. You stand and wait, shuffling your feet as people bump you from all sides. Suddenly, you feel a hand on your backside, causing you to whip around as best you can in the crowd.

“Hey, dude! Knock it off!” You yell. The man puts his hands up, clearly already drunk as his lips form a smirk.

“Didn’t mean nothin’ by it, baby. Just thought you could use some company is all! You here alone?” You roll your eyes.

“I’m not your baby. And no, I’m not alone, so you can go ahead and turn your ass around and walk away.” You fold your arms over your chest as the leather-clad man gives a chuckle.

“Ooh, you’re feisty! I like that in a woman.” He presses his face closer to yours, so close you smell the stench of stale liquor and drugs on his breath. You resist the urge to look away, not wanting to give him fuel for his Alaska-sized ego.

“Then go find another one, meathead. I told you I’m not alone. And if you don’t watch yourself, I’ll show you how feisty I can really get,” You warn him, fists clenching as your anger builds. His face lip twitches up, eyebrows furrowing.

“The fuck did you just say to me, skank?” Your eyes flick over to your left, and you see a glimpse of a ring covered hand hovering over the crowd with a beer. Eddie and Steve are on their way back.

“I said,” You enunciate, “watch yourself.” The man licks at his teeth, leaning back a bit in a laugh.

“You think you’re hot shit, do you? I could have you any way I want and there’s nothing you can do about it.” He reaches out suddenly to grab at one of your arms, and you pull at him relentlessly, your other fist pulling back and punching forward as hard as you can. He reels as your hand connects to his jaw, letting your arm go as you hear Steve and Eddie yell, both dropping the beers they’re holding as they see this creep touching their girl.

“What the fuck?! You stupid bitch!” Your breath hitches as the man lunges forward again, but Steve’s fists are already flying as he wedges himself between the two of you, Eddie pulls you behind him as well, his hands creating a blockade around you as your back presses up against the stage. A chant among the crowd begins as people realize what’s going on, thinking it’s the start of a mosh pit as bodies start flinging around in a circle. Your breath speeds up as Eddie leaves you to try to pull Steve out, not wanting him to get trampled in the madness.

You breathe a sigh of relief a couple of minutes later as Eddie pushes harshly through the now-formed wall of death, ushering Steve by his shoulders. They both rush back to you, and your hands go to Steve’s face, who’s sporting a bloody eyebrow. “Oh, my god! Steve, sweetheart, are you okay?” Steve nods lightly, out of breath from the fighting as his hand goes to touch yours, holding your hand to his face.

“I’m fine, what about you? Did that fucker touch you? Did he hurt you?” He asks. You shake your head.

“No! He tried to pull at me, but I punched him. I guess my hand kind of hurts, but I’m not bleeding!” You cry.

“I’m fine, bunny, I promise. He looks a lot worse than I do,” Steve assures you. Eddie nods, looking impressed.

“Yeah, he looked pretty busted by the time I got to Steve. I don’t think he’ll come back, love.” Eddie says. He sighs, looking guiltily at both you and Steve. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t know this would happen! There aren’t many of those kinds of guys at these places.” He reaches to hold Steve’s hand, and he takes it. Eddie then pulls you to his chest.

“It’s okay, baby. None of us could’ve known that that was gonna happen.” You look up at him, his brows furrowed. “Let’s just get out of here, okay?” You look to both of them, and they nod. Eddie and Steve wedge you in between them, both holding you tight as you make your way through the crowd. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you let out a gust of air as you walk outside, the cool September air hitting your sweaty skin. You pull both Eddie and Steve closer to you, thankful to be out of that hellhole as you start walking together toward the van. You round the corner to the parking lot and stop as you see the guy again, cursing as he takes a drag from a cigarette, patting at his bleeding nose. Eddie and Steve notice him too, and just hold you even tighter as you continue walking, hoping he doesn’t notice. You’re just a few yards away from the car when you hear a yell.

“Hey, slut!” Your breath quickens as your blood begins to boil, but you keep walking, pulling at Eddie and Steve when you feel them both hesitate. “Oh, okay, so you’re okay with being a disgusting whore, just not with me, right? Am I just that fucking ugly?! Yo, how much you paying that bitch to let you spit-roast her, huh?” Something in you snaps, and you let go of the boys, turning on your heel and marching straight back to the meathead.

“Yeah! You are that fucking ugly! And looks like my boyfriend made you even fucking uglier! You fucking say another word and I’ll give you a face not even your fucking mother would love!” You see red as you approach him, hands ready to knock this son of a bitch out. He lets out a stiff laugh, throwing his cigarette away from him.

“You want some of this? I’ll fucking give you some!” He stands tall to try to intimidate you as he steps forward, but you’re not backing down, especially when you have your boys at your back. “And then after, I’ll beat your little fucktoys too and then you and I can have a real party.” He sneers as he grabs at his dick through his pants, and you lunge at him, throwing as much power as you can into your arm, grunting with effort as it connects to his nose, which you assume is already broken from fighting Steve. He stumbles back in pain, but you keep coming, kicking out as hard as you can to his groin. He doubles over, groaning, then you land another punch to his head, then another. You can hear Steve and Eddie shouting at you, but you can’t hear them over the blood pounding in your ears. You kick his abdomen as he crumbles to the ground and spit, absolutely shaking in rage when finally, Eddie and Steve pull you back.

“That’s enough, Y/N! You did good! He’s down. It’s okay,” Eddie hushes you into your ear, pulling you to his chest. You pant into him as he pulls you away, still trembling. The three of you walk back to the van, Eddie opening the door for you as you clamber in next to Steve, who pulls you into his embrace, smoothing your hair as Eddie gets in the front. You look down at your aching hands to see they’re covered in blood, and you don’t really know if it’s yours or the other guy’s. You decide not to care right now and lean to kiss Steve instead, who welcomes you as you press your lips to his gently.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened…” Your voice shakes with adrenaline as Eddie pulls out of the parking space, and he reaches his hand back to you to hold. You take it, fingers brushing against his cool skin.

“Don’t be sorry, Y/N,” Steve says gently, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

“No, don’t even think that gorgeous! That was totally badass!” Eddie laughs. You look to his eyes in the rearview mirror to search for assurance, and you find it, his eyes sparkling under the fluorescent streetlights. “Dude totally deserved it! We would’ve helped, actually, but it looked like you had it handled.” You can’t help but smile as Eddie laughs.

“Are you sure? I feel like I went a little overboard.”

“Trust me, if it were either one of us, I don’t think he would still be breathing after that,” Steve admits. You chuckle, quirking up an eyebrow in agreement.

“You’re probably right,” You concede, letting your head fall against Steve’s shoulder again. “Still, sucks we didn’t get to see the show.”

“Well, date night’s not over yet my loves. How about we stop by the drugstore to get some band-aids, then we can go get dinner? My treat, since I picked the bad spot tonight.” You smile at Eddie, leaning forward between the seats to kiss his cheek as he drives.

“Sounds good to me, gorgeous. Anything in particular you want?” You ask, sitting back.

“How about that karaoke joint? They may not have Eddie’s brand of good music,” Steve begins, but he’s cut off by Eddie’s laugh.

“Just my brand? Babe, come on. None of the people who sing there are any good!” You laugh. He’s right, of course, but it could be fun.

“Well, they have good quesadillas! And cheep beer! Which, if you remember, we had to drop ours so I could beat that guy’s ass the first time!”  Steve laughs. You look to see Eddie roll his eyes, making you giggle.

“Alright, alright. Karaoke it is. But only because I love you and you got hurt protecting our girl’s honor!” Eddie exclaims.

“I love you too, Ed,” Steve smirks. You breathe a sigh, so in love with your dopey boys. Yeah… Even when date nights don’t go as planned… they’re still the best.

[enmerald]

[ 20:54 ]

“he’s not yours.”

the words punched right through your chest, bruising your already broken heart.

just a few minutes ago you found out about one of your husband’s affairs and yet, it felt like you were the one being unfaithful.

tears brimmed your eyes but you refused to cry and show any sign of weakness to your husband’s mistress, who’s bright red lipstick was smudged but didn’t hide the smug grin on her face.

“and you think he’s yours? as far as i know you’re just one of his casual flings.”

the moment you closed your lips, you regretted the words that came out. you weren’t dumb, you knew your husband’s recent tendencies to stay late at work due to some “projects” or the new scents that lingered on his suits wasn’t him “experimenting” with colognes were just excuses.

even with your suspicions, you couldn’t help but feel hurt at the fact that you were right. everything you thought you had was suddenly gone down the drain and all you could see now was the hopeless future you were trying to avoid.

“honey, this is all a misunderstanding. you—”

“don’t. don’t even try to explain. i’ve been trying to prove myself wrong about my suspicions but clearly i was right. you’re nothing but a lousy man who i unfortunately fell in love with.” one stray tear trickled down your face.

“i will be going on. don’t try to find me. i’m done.”

and with that, you left the house you once considered home. as you walked down the gravel pathway, you left your old memories back and you slowly felt the need to start anew.

but you couldn’t dwell on this new feeling because you suddenly collided with a hard wall. or hard chest to be exact.

you groaned as you lifted your head, it having been bent down so nobody could recognize you as you walked away from the house. yes, that place will no longer be called your home. you had to find a new one soon.

“watch where you’re going.”

right, you have to first deal with your throbbing head first and the rude jerk who apparently didn’t know how to apologize.

you attempted to glare at the guy but once your vision cleared, your eyes widen and your jaw dropped. he was beautiful, his lips and eyebrows adorned with piercings and his cold gaze sent a shiver down your spine.

“what?” his gruff, deep voice broke through your trance and you shifted your gaze from him, a little afraid he would beat you up if you continued to stare.

“n-nothing. i’ll be on my way. s-sorry for bumping into you,” your voice trembled and you turned around quickly to try and get away from the handsome stranger but before you could escape, a strong hand grabbed your wrist.

“n-no wait. i’m sorry for being so rude. i thought you were one of my crazy stalkers who always try to bump into me.”

you turned around slowly and your shocked face must’ve been funny because the man let out a quite laugh, his cold persona fading away.

his warm eyes and gentle smile comforted you and you felt the sudden urge to cry but before you could sob, the man’s face became alarmed.

“a-are you okay? was i-i too rude? d-do you need—”

his nervous rambling made you giggle and you wiped away your tears.

“no it’s okay. i’m actually just running away from home so i’m a little overwhelmed at the moment.”

the man stopped his rambling and nodded at you in understanding. “well if you would like, i can take you to a safe place.”

you raised an eyebrow at his suggestion. “how can i be sure you aren’t going to murder me or something if i go with you?”

the man broke out laughing, leaning over while clutching his stomach, his body shaking from his loud laughter.

“if i wanted to murder you, i would have done so, don’t you think?” he continued to laugh but you no longer felt uncomfortable.

instead, you decided to trust your gut.

“okay, but if anything happens to me, i’ll make sure to haunt you for all eternity.”

the man stood up straight and extended his hand toward you. “don’t worry, i’ll make sure to keep my promise.”

“by the way, what’s your name?” you asked as you placed your hand on top of his, feeling how his warm fingers wrapped around yours almost as if they were made for each other.

the man grinned at you mischievously but you saw no malicious intent behind his smile.

“lee chan.”

[libidomechanica]

Untitled Composition # 8958

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eye, the she days fall ye thing down     with her beauty, and returning stors of joy of water     any a plainous! I say with bliss the flew, sitting bribe.     And our born a gift meet all its lost livine, thus, how it     delite, that inhering?

[sakura-rose]

The Queen

22/05/12

Our second session: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6tVFhjiLl9k&t=202s (Battle in DnD 5e can drag out quite long. This session begins with battle and can be a bit of a slog... so I wrote up a play by play on how the battle panned out. While not the best writing, reading it allows you to skip the first hour of the stream and not be lost.) Opening Battle: The session opens with the battle against the Unknown Bear creature. Sora is the first to react, moving from the back of the room, up to the front, giving Amrut a hand up onto his feet while teasing him “It’s not the time to sleep”. Phoenix quickly tosses a gadget that rolls into the creature’s chamber and releases a puddle of grease under its feet causing it to fall, limbs splayed out in all directions. Lewis runs up between Judith and Amrut, grabs the vase with the essence in it, closes the doors to the chamber, and urges everyone to retreat. The opposing team disappears into the darkness of the hall on the right, as the unknown creature lunges towards the now closed doors, managing to knock Amrut, who was on the other side, back down onto his butt. Judith, managing to stay on her feet, dives into the water on the right and makes it into the hall. As she climbs on to the stairs, she writes with her quill, healing Amrut who is right behind her. She then turns, looks at the door and waits for them to fling open, readying the spell photographia for her best shot yet. As Amrut makes his way out of the water and onto the stairs, he looks back at Barnabal, (the idiot from the other team that died last session) and in a low grumbly voice commands him to “Rise”. Phoenix sees the dead body of Barnable which laid on the ground next to her rise and walk to the door that temporarily holds the unknown mouther at bay. Phoenix utilizes another grease ball, leaving a puddle just outside the doors for when the creature breaks through before she and Jenkins jump into the water. The bear shaped creature breaks open the doors, smashing Barnable against the far wall. In that brief moment of Barnable’s flight, Judith’s photographia spell goes off, catching a snapshot which includes Amrut’s horn, Phoenix and Jenkins swimming towards her and a menacing bear behind crashing doors. The bear barrels through, unaware of the grease waiting for it, slides past the targets in the water, as its feet come out from under it, it takes a wild swing at Phoenix with its massive claws, barely missing her and falling prone once again. Sora, unable to leave Phoenix behind, back tracks to her friend and gives her a helping hand out of the water and onto the stairs, looking forward to the “Master Sweet” they were promised. Sora temporarily letting off glittering gold sparks, runs with the speed of the wind down into the darkened hall. Phoenix, Jenkins and Lewis rush after her. The crew soon finds themselves at the edge of a crumbling bridge. Cracked and shattered in places, it looks as if it’s about to collapse into the water beneath. Tasha, the leader of the opposing team, lets everyone know the water below is bitterly cold. She dashes across, as Gambit (the artificer of the other team) decides to jump into the water, afraid his weight would bring the bridge crashing down. He takes severe damage doing so, but manages to come up on the other side. Quill declaring how light he is, dashes across the bridge, taking a nice hard jump right in the middle, and causes twenty square feet of the bridge to crumble into the water below as he makes it to the other side.  A roar can be heard in the hall behind the group, the unknown creature’s charging footsteps are not far behind. Judith runs onto the bridge, but turns back, looking behind her, she sees the creature coming, a mere 20feet or so behind Phoenix, she pulls out her quill and writes “It chased them through the tunnel, but it got distracted by a boiling pit of honey.” (Casting phantasmic force & unsettling words.) Amrut begins to run across the bridge, making it half way, he is suddenly surrounded by water (a skill of his) disappearing and reappearing further down the hall. Sora, easily long jumps over the portion of collapsed bridge Quill had destroyed. She lands with a roll and thanks Quill for the chance to “practice her hops”. Quill responds with “We’re a team after all!” which elicits a “fuck you” from Amrut. Phoenix and Jenkins dash across the bridge, unfortunately as they pass Judith, the bridge crumbles behind them, and out from under Judith. She falls, taking damage from the rubble, she screams out and surrounded by a bright light, her light rune activated and relocates her to the edge of bridge, right beside Phoenix and Sora. Lewis, now the only one on the same side as the monster, holds the vase tight and attempts to jump across the 20ft span in the crumbled bridge. As he pushes off into the jump, more bridge crumbles behind him, he just lands on the other side, and looking around, checks to make sure everyone made it alright. The opposing team continues to run ahead, and around a corner. Judith looks back at the creature chasing them, it has been duped by her illusionary honey pit, it looks as if it’s crawling through honey, it is trying to swim through a substance that’s not there. It makes its way to the edge of the bridge, but the bridge collapses beneath it, landing into the water below. As he eyes the party, an enchantment of some sort is activated, a bright light engulfs the room and sends it back, it is not allowed on a floor that is not its own. (Chase scene comes to an end… time stamp: 58:40)