#I actually used eyeliner to make the blue blood on my face

[hopex4]

I WATCHED MAMA MIA TODAY WITH MY FRIENDS AT MY SCHOOL

IT WAS AMAZING!!!!!!

I went as Paul, one of my friends was Emma and the other was Ted!

Very fun

10/10

Little rant ↓

The actors were amazing (one of them was AWOOGA HOLY SHIT- he played Same and -chefs kiss- fine man right there TEEHEE [respectful]). The nightmare scene was so cool and terrifying- the stage had glow in the dark paint on it AND HOLS SHIT IT WAS AMAZING??? And during Money Money Money, everyone except for Donna and I think her two friends were wearing black suits with red ties- HELLO???? AMAZING

[yournightmary]

Vi HCs

content warning:: i guess there’s some angst? but it’s arcane so it’s nothing new

AN:: just a mix of different headcannons to get me through season 2.

pitfighter!Vi

⇢ ˗ˏˋ I’m sorry but she smells so bad. I’m not talking about a little stink- she smells fucking rancid. It’s a mix of sweat, alcohol, blood, hair dye and sometimes even puke. I don’t think she even showers properly, she just runs a wet towel over her body and calls it a day.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She dyes her hair with the cheapest hair dye in front of her cracked mirror- that’s why it’s so shitty. Doesn’t buy enough and ends up not covering her ends every single time.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Barely has any clothes. Owns 3 pairs of jeans and 4 shirts, all of them ragged and stained. Doesn’t even wear the shirts most of the time, she just wraps her chest with bandages.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ At first she didn’t want to do the eyeliner thing but a few fellow fighters told her it’s something to be recognized and remember for. For the first few times she actually payed attention to how she’s applying it, but after that she said fuck it and just slapped it on. Also she doesn’t use proper eyeliner, maybe something like water-activated face paint.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Really craves touch. She’ll glue herself to random girls (bonus points if they have dark blue hair) at bars and blame it on being drunk. Nothing sexual, just plain affections.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Her every day looks the same. Wake up in the middle of the day, sulk on the shitty mattress that she calls her bed, work out, put on her make up, head to the pit, drink till the morning. There’s literally no difference in them.

young!Vi

⇢ ˗ˏˋ I don’t know where i’ve read it I think it was like an interview or something but she’s literally just a girl. She didn’t want to be the strong fighter that everyone knows not to mess with, but that’s who she has to be to survive in the Undercity.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Definitely gave music a try. Like be so fr, she has a saxophone on her bed. Maybe she found it on a job and thought it was too cool to sell. Always wanted to play guitar but it was out of her price range.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She knew she liked girls from very early on and so did everyone around her. She didn’t hide it from anyone, there was literally no reason to. In season 1 you can even see she has a poster of a half-naked woman next to her bed, like come on now.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ I’ve seen people saying that she doesn’t know how to make food but hear me out. I think she’s actually a pretty good cook due to her being the ‘caretaker’ when Vander couldn’t do it. Definitely cooked for Powder when she woke her up in the middle of the night because she was so hungry it was bordering on being painful.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She cuts her own hair. One time she fucked up so bad she had to shave her whole side and it just kind of stayed with her.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Never does anything for herself. Whenever she finds something- like clothes or food- she gives it to someone else. Always makes sure the others have enough before she takes something for herself.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She feels so guilty after stealing stuff from other people. She’s not stupid and she knows how hard life in the underground is, and that it justifies her actions but still- she’ll roll from side to side instead of sleeping, thinking about how much of a shitty person she is.

dating!Vi

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Literally the best girlfriend out there and I will die on this hill.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She’s so touch-starved it’s unbelievable. When she was a teen she didn’t really experience anything relationship-like and then she got locked up for a few years. She’ll always have her arm around you, her hand on your hip or waist.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Oh my god her hugs are so good ahhhh. It’s just like being wrapped up in a warm blanket. Really likes to give hugs from behind too.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Loves cuddling, especially if it involves her lying on top of you. She doesn’t need any pillows if she has you and your lap, stomach or chest.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She is such an acts of service girl. And it goes both ways! If you make her dinner or plan a whole date by yourself she’ll feel so loved.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She stares so much it’s borderline creepy. She’ll just look at you in silence for a few minutes before turning her head away with a smile, thinking about how lucky she is to have you.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ You’ll be cuddling with her before sleep, scratching her back or scalp for the whole time. Once you think she’s asleep you stop and she immediately looks up at you with furrowed brows, asking why you stopped.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ While she is proud of her physique and stuff she does feel self conscious about her hands. Mostly because of all the scars and bruises, maybe a little because of how manly they look.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She was a victim of being treated like a guy because she’s more masculine presenting than feminine. Pay for her food at a restaurant, do her makeup, tell her she looks pretty not handsome.

[joe-spookyy]

Any tips on how to cosplay Undead Jack Goodman

( context plan on going to a Halloween party as him )

actually yes!!! i’ve gone through a fair bit of trial and error on this one so let me give you some tips!!

here’s how i did it.

so. first. the makeup.

you will need

- cotton balls/pads

- liquid latex

- scar wax (optional)

- paper towel tube

- tissues

- red base makeup

- eyeliner pencil of some sort

- fake blood

- black/brown/yellow/purple makeup

so, first, you’re going to want to block out the shape of the injury. i usually just draw it out with the eyeliner pencil (using a reference of course). you’re going to want to go all the way down your neck to the collar of your shirt and as far back to where your hair falls on your neck. if your hair doesn’t hit your neck well. then follow your heart. then, you’ll follow the guidelines you’ve put down with cotton and liquid latex to make it raised. you’ll want to tear up the cotton balls/pads and roll them into thin strips with your fingers. you can make them as long or as short as you want. i usually make them pretty short though, so it’s easier to make sure they follow the lines. once you’ve rolled them, you can place liquid latex over your guideline, and then stick the strip on. if that doesn’t make sense, check out my video tutorial and also the one i attached at the end. then, once you have that, you can start adding texture. i usually put one piece of scar wax on the side of my cheek like here. it should look somewhat like this (but with stuff on your neck too.) this is also the stage where i start attaching little pieces of tissue in shreds to my face with liquid latex to simulate the little floppy pieces of skin that hang off.

next, you can add the fake windpipe! for this, i cut a toilet paper tube in half and then adjust the size until it fits comfortably over my throat. you can attach it with liquid latex, then cover it with another piece of tissue to make it a little more seamless and use liquid latex again to hold it down.

now, you have to go in with the color. start with a red base, then add yellow and black highlights, with a little bit of purple if you’re feeling bold. but don’t use too much purple. then, go absolutely insane with the fake blood. the most important thing is to respect the lines you made before, cause in the movie all the wounds are isolated to one side of his face.

to modify this for the later stages of decay you’d want to use a green base for the rest of your face and use less red and more of the darker colors in the wounds. you could create texture on the rest of your face with liquid latex i think to sort of simulate the shriveled look but i’m not super sure - i haven’t tried anything past the initial fresh hospital look. i’d look up a few zombie makeup tutorials and see if you can figure anything else out!

i based all of mine off of this tutorial, so it might be a helpful watch if you’re confused at all.

next, the coat. i really wanted the blood to look fresh, so i had kind of a hard time finding fake blood that would work. most of it dries and soaks into fabric, and since the green coat is dark, it just ends up kinda looking like it’s been stained with an unidentified liquid. so i decided to make my own. i mixed gelatin powder, water, and corn syrup with food coloring - mostly red, but a few drops of blue to get a darker more bloody nasty look. in terms of amount, you just kind of have to follow your heart. then, i poured a little over the shoulder, let it drip, then laid it down and did some spot treatment and made sure the coverage was even and there was enough. i’d recommend doing this maybe two nights before you’re going to need the costume - it takes a while to dry but if you let it dry for too long it’ll start to crack when you move. however, it’s the only way i’ve figured out to keep the blood looking fresh. if you want, you can also cut holes in the coat in some places to match how it is in the movie, but i’ve found it honestly doesn’t need it.

then you’re pretty much set! get some dark jeans and hiking boots and boom. you’re jack. would love to see how your costume turns out!

[ddonovanrp]

I remember when we first met;

I walked my bike backwards until I felt the tire hit the sidewalk and I stopped. I looked around to the bikes around me, the majority of my bar loving MC Brothers were here already, which included my siblings and my cousin with her boyfriend. The few other family members that were nearby were pending. It was a party! For some reason the girls decided they wanted to go out tonight instead of partying at the clubhouse. That's where the rest of the club would have been by now.

I turned the headlight off and cut the engine before I stood and lit a cigarette. The deal we had with the club owner was no cuts inside the club, of any sort. Which included those of other MCs. This bar was neutral territory and we all worked hard to keep it the way.

Upholding that deal, I slid my cut off my shoulders that identified me as the Vice President of the Iron Angels Motorcycle Club, and hooked it on my handlebar. I pulled my phone from my pocket and texted my best friend Rhys to come outside. I'd shoved my phone back in my pocket and started walking across the parking lot to the front door, where i stopped to finish my cigarette. "Heeey, there you are VP." Rhys called out, clearly in a good mood as he shoved through the back door and came barreling my direction. "I was beginning to think you weren't comin." He said which caused me to scoff in response. "Have you ever known me to turn down a good party?" I asked him with a chuckle as I clapped my hand on his shoulder. "C'mon brother, let's go get us some pussy, I mean whiskey." I teased no doubt he'd already been scoping the scene.

But I had no idea what I actually got myself into by walking into that bar that night.

We walked into the bar and I could immediately hear my crowd. Harper and her girlfriend Emily giggled at something Nick had said that had earned him a playful slap from our cousin Selene. Kehlani and Zeth were lining newly filled shot glasses up for everyone at the table while Cameron grinded on some skinny redhead on the dance floor. These were my people. Minus the few that hadn't shown up yet. At this point I wasn't even sure what we were celebrating but I knew alcohol was involved and I was in.

I headed over to the table where my family all sat and reached around Kehlani to swipe her tequila shot. She was probably my absolute favorite to fuck with. She was the wilder of my two younger sisters and she was almost as bad as me and Cameron had been with picking on eachother which definitely leveled the playing field.

"Sorry squirt, 21 only." I joked knowing she was of age, though her height didn't show it. "Damian!" She yelled and slapped at my chest. "Next round is on you, fuckhead." She said and I nodded, accepting my punishment. "Deal. I'm getting a beer." I said and headed to the bar to meet Max, one of my better friends and local bartender. Though it was a running joke that i only liked her because she over filled my shot glasses.

"Hey gorgeous." I said with that sweet southern charm I played up when being my normal flirtatious self "Getting shitfaced again so soon Donovan? Or is this a special occasion?" she teased me back and slid me a cold beer bottle down the bar. She already knew.

"Why can't it just be an excuse to see your face?" I joked back which got me an exaggerated reaction of fanning herself before she rolled her eyes at my antics. It was all friendly play.

I turned my back to the bar and looked out around the dance floor. What I'd seen on the dance floor caused me to pause. Long black hair swinging around small shoulders as she twisted and turned with two blondes; stark contrast to her friends. Her skin was paler, her eyes piercing blue when she looked up and her gaze collided with mine. Jaw dropping beauty, with barely any make up. Black smudged eyeliner and blood red lipstick only. Oof. Apparently I do have a type.

Her spaghetti strap black dress hugged her curves and had my gaze slowly rounding each one wondering if she was as soft as I thought. I lifted my beer and tipped it in her direction, a small greeting since she'd caught me staring. Angel eyes darted away, back to the friends she was dancing with.

"Damian! Come get your brother he's irking my nerve." Kehlani said about our oldest brother Cameron; my partner in crime. She'd came to the bar where I was standing and hooked her arm through mine. "You're my favorite brother tonight. Save me." She'd said and stuck her tongue out at him which caused a howl of laughter from the group in response.

I let her pull me back to the table with my family and friends where I stayed for several hours, downing shot after shot, before heading back to the bar. It was my turn to buy.

The girl from the dance floor was sitting on a barstool, her leg crossed over her knee as she leaned against the counter on her elbow giggling with the blondes from earlier, before they'd held hands and walked to the bathroom together. Talk about timing.

I took my shot and headed the bar. I leaned forward on my forearms against the counter top and waited for Max to see me from the other end. "Hey. I'm Damian." I said from beside the girl, only half expecting to get told to fuck off. "You don't look familiar. Not from around here huh?" I suggested.

"No, I'm not. And don't you think your girlfriend is going to get mad you're talking to me?" She answered.

"Girlfriend?" I asked amused; I was single.

"Yeah. The blonde i seen you with earlier." She said busting me for trying to cheat on said girlfriend.

"That was my sister." I replied as a cold beer got slid my way. "Do you drink?" I asked and nodded to Max to set me up 2 shots and watched the girls face as my friend filled the glasses and tried not to smirk at me. She'd seen me come and go with so many different girls over the years of my coming to this bar we'd both gave up keeping them straight.

This girl though. Damn. ______________________________________ -> 3.24.2021 -> #TheCornerTavernRP #Friends #Rian

[sab3rto0thed]

when i appeared before you in all of my teenage glory, hair too long, glasses askew, braces scraping teeth, you found me in your blue jeans and too-easy smiles. i should have known that no one smiles that easily, but i was so small, so young, hunched in my too-big shirts and too-shy smiles.

you came to me one night. sometimes you would hug me the way you used to, wrap your arms around me and steady me, but instead of doing that, the world would turn upside down. there would be a line of girls to kiss and you would kiss each one like you cared, but your eyes would always be on me.

you would escalate things, like truth-or-dare circles by candlelight and invisible toddlers tugging on my legs, dragging me to the floor. sometimes you would put your hands on my face, kiss me and taste like light, grab my waist and make me feel like something pretty. the deer in the head of your gun. the holster on your hip. the blood in your fingernails. 

your features were always distorted, your wooden eyes a dark blur, your nose a swirl of tan. but these three things always remained true: that swoop of hair, those lips, and the archer’s bow at my chest. actually, that last one is a lie. sometimes the bow was a guitar, and sometimes the guitar was your brushing the clips in my hair, and me trying not to scream. you, my lovely dreamer, were the first person that taught me how to seal my throat closed before i seal my lips closed. i know because you, in all of your brutal anger, made your own stitches before you ever grabbed some for me.

(the intermission: you saved me, and you ruined me. i was told that is what love does, but i think it’s just what you did to me, the same way i did it to you. we are always the playing cards, the joker and the queen, the king and the ace. but we are never the king and the queen at the same time, because we are never in love in any way that matters.)

but i never stopped. i think if you all the time, as if accepting my fate will rid you from my unconsciousness. that swoop of hair, those lips, and that damn archer’s bow, always aimed at the space between my eyes. your paint on my knuckles, my eyeliner, your open mouth. god, if we could, we would. 

i can’t be around you without worshipping you, writing hymns and choking on them, stretching my fingers out so you’ll grab them, clinging to your petty reminder of what doesn’t have to change. but all things have to change, and i am tired of my god being your gaze. so i’ll think of you like a mockingbird thinks of a clock, or i won’t think of you at all.

[gleekto]

Fic: Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You (2/?)

Short Summary: Blaine coming of age in 1969. Columbia University. Hippie!Kurt. Elliott and Sebastian as Blaine’s mentor-friends. Unironic use of ‘groovy’. Coming out and fitting in and falling in love.

Amazing Poster by @caramelcoffeeaddict

For @slayediest who gave an inspired prompt for this way back when.

Day One

Day Two: Structure

Earl Hall. The structure at the centre of campus religious life and the home of the Student Homophile League.

Blaine, for all his fear of actually setting foot in a meeting, has done his research on the history. The donor had specified that the building be used to help students, and who better to help than homosexuals? Gay people are discriminated against basically everywhere, so the need for an advocacy group and friendship was a critical need on university campuses.

Blaine has read the pamphlet in his sock drawer so many times, he has it memorized, and he somehow feels the group's goals are both too lofty and not enough - The Student Homophile League seeks to initiate discussion and dialogue about homosexuality, integrate homosexuals into mainstream society, and encourage homosexuals to accept themselves.

And Earl Hall is their place. Given with blessings as long as they don't organize social events.

Blaine had a hard time concentrating in class today, willing himself not to chicken out at the last minute, making the easy choice to go to the diner with Sam instead of "the choir meeting", he told Sam he was going to. Sam wasn't suspicious, not even interested really. Sam's not into that "pansy singing stuff" but is cool that Blaine likes it. Blaine had huffed a laugh at that, because little did he know.

"No seriously, bro. It's okay that you like to sing and all that. You play piano, you study music. You're like an intellectual."

An intellectual. A homosexual. Same thing, really.

Blaine takes a deep breath as he walks in.

"Welcome, hi. You must be new. Come on in. I'm Elliott." Blaine stares at the imposing man in dark blue jeans and a tight purple turtleneck. Only thing that might let you know he was different than any old straight guy is a little eyeliner around his eyes. But punks would do that too. Blaine can't take his eyes off of him. "Come, have a seat. I'm a senior by the way. Almost done my music degree." That snaps Blaine out of it enough to remember to talk back. Be polite.

"Oh hey, that's great. I sing in the Glee club here. I'm Blaine. I'm a freshman, but you could probably tell."

"We are always happy to have new faces around here," Elliott says sincerely. "We've worked hard to exist and we want to make sure that the torch keeps burning. Oh!" Elliott looks up and waves at another tall, skinnier but also not bad looking guy walking through the door. Is this a thing that the gay guys here are all good looking? Blaine gets it - He knows he works to keep up his physique. Makes sure to jog and lift weights at the gym whenever he gets a chance. He gels his hair like Cary Grant, and always makes sure his outfits are traditional masculine, only occasionally giving into his longing for just a little bit of fashion pop. The one friend back home he had told of his true reason for choosing Columbia, Jane, would say things like 'all the good ones are gay', but he always figured she was really just talking about him because neither of them knew any other gay people. But now he sees that she may be right. Pretty cool. "This is my boyfriend, Sebastian."

Blaine is still shaking his head over his good fortune at the beauty of men when he does a double take. Boyfriend. Wow. "Hey Tiger." Sebastian walks over to them and moves into Elliott's space. He looks like he wants to kiss him, Blaine thinks, but looks around the room and instead squeezes his arm. It's probably a good choice because Blaine isn't sure he would be able to hold it together. Boyfriends. "What fresh blood do we have here?"

Elliott rolls his eyes at Sebastian and knocks him in the side. Smiling. Intimate. So damn cute, Blaine thinks to himself. He's not jealous, not really. He's entranced. He knows that this is why he came to Columbia. To be himself, to find love and connection. He just can't really imagine it. There were no other homosexuals where he comes from. But here there are. "Don't scare our new recruits, Sebastian," Elliott says. "This is Blaine. He's a freshman."

"Well, welcome to the Homophile League, Blaine." Sebastian extends his hand and Blaine notices that he has a strong firm handshake. So does Blaine. You wouldn't even know they're gay. Except that they are.

The meeting ends up being about 15 people - ten men, and five women and Blaine feels a bit badly for outnumbering them. They each introduce themselves and Blaine realizes that he is likely the youngest - most are seniors or Masters students. Still they are welcoming and not that much older than him. The big news of the week is that they've received this year's approval to do tolerance rap sessions on dorm floors and Blaine volunteers right away.

"Thanks Blaine. So glad you're in," Elliott puts his arm around him at the end of the meeting. "It's mostly freshmen and sophomores in the dorms and seeing someone their own age is really going to make a difference. So much tolerance, we'll even be able to hold hands in public," Elliott says half in jest, all in earnest, taking Sebastian's hand. Blaine watches their fingers interlace before he snaps himself out of staring.

"Yeah and our Blaine here is a real cutie," Sebastian smirks although Blaine thinks it's meant to be at least a half compliment. "The kids are going to love him."

Blaine shakes his head, brushing off the comment but he knows he's still blushing. It's nice, being around gay guys. He'll have to work on that cutie thing, though. He doesn't want to be the little brother.

He wants to be hot.

[whorefordazai]

Ayo, I know ur requests are closed, but I saw your gender bent hc, and honestly the boys being the ones genderbent would be 👌👌👌

I had too much fun writing this 😏 and was kinda confused on what pronouns to use when describing them so uhh (him/her???)

bsd boys: gender bend edition

ft. dazai | chuuya | oda | aku x reader

genre: fluff, slight nsfw

warnings: slight depictions of sex

Dazai

Y’all think normal dazai is pretty? Just imagine him as a woman 🙈 FUCKIDN LORD🏃🏼‍♀️

Just imagine him with long messy brown hair, the same outfit but like hotter.

If he were to become a woman out of nowhere, the first thing he’d do is flash himself in the mirror to inspect his boobs🕺

“Wow...these look so majestic, I feel so lucky😧 is this what you do every time you’re in front of a mirror, belladonna?”

“...not every time...ಥ‿ಥ”

Would definitely boost his ego 100x more because now he can seduce men too😏

But dazai, why was seducing men your first thought 😄

Imagine giving dazai head oh fuck

“Y-y/n...” Dazai’s soft moans whimper from under you. You chuckle onto the soft skin between his legs. His hands grip the sheets and he tilt his head back in pleasure.

“Make some more noise for me, pretty girl.”

Anyways😏🤚

Getting his first fucking period. He has no idea what to do haha! Blood is everywhere, his stomach hurts, he feels as though he really wants to kill himself right this moment.

“I hate being a woman ಠ_ಠ”

“Babe, you should get used to this.”

You help him clean up and get him some light snacks along with a heating pad. Both of you snuggle up on the couch. Your arms wrapped around Dazai’s small figure🥺

“Y/n, can you sleep on my boobs?”

“...why ᇂ_ᇂ?”

“I wanna see what it feels like ◕ ◡ ◕”

“...okay ʘ‿ʘ?”

You softly lower your head onto his chest, careful not to hurt him. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you bury your face in his shirt.

A giggle escapes Dazai’s lips. “Wait, that tickles!”

“Squish...squish...” you mumble, softly squeezing his boobs like a plushie.

“Okay, how do they feel ^ｰ^?”

“...very nice. They feel very nice ಠ◡ಠ”

He wears some of your clothes on the daily, but now he’ll wear almost half your wardrobe.

He feels really pretty in all those dresses you have oh my🙂

Chuuya

He’s already so hot and pretty, just imagine him as a girl. HOLY FUCK🏃🏼‍♀️

Curly red hair, that signature fedora, and even that choker around his neck. BUT ADD BLACK EYELINER OSHHS

He would definitely feel a little weird in his new body. Wouldn’t exactly like it at first and will definitely be complaining.

Give it a few days and let him look in the mirror and see how hot he looks as a woman😏

“Y/n...you’re still...attracted to me, right?”

“...babe, you have no idea ●‿●”

His attitude is the same so now people are even more scared of him. At first glance someone would think he’s just a cute little sweet girl but then BOOM he kicks them 20 feet into the air (only if they piss him off)

He now has the double struggle of being short and being a girl 👩‍🦯

FASHION SHOWS !!

This mf loves styling himself and looking really damn good, so once he finds out there’s a whole new world of outfits he can try on as a woman...just know you’ll be shopping for a while.

He’s a fucking mafiosa, always dressed in sleek black outfits with a hat that lets his red curls peek out. The black lace veil hiding his blue eyes just pulls the whole outfit together so well

He sometimes lets you do his makeup cuz he thinks he looks prettier with. The both of you will paint each other’s nails (he is somehow is very good at it. Anything you wanna tell us, Chuuya🧐?)

You thought you liked chuuya dominant as a male? Honey, you ain’t ready for him as a woman🏃🏼‍♀️

“Am I making you feel good, baby?” Chuuya looks up from the space between your legs. A few strands of his red hair fall onto your skin as he moves them away. You shiver, feeling his smooth fingertips dangerously graze against your core.

You can only nod, feeling his soft lips leave a trail of kisses on your inner thigh. The faint print of red lipstick followed the trail.

RED LIPSTICK ON YOUR INNER THIGH HOLY FUCKSJ🏃🏼‍♀️💨

Oda

I’M GONNA CRY he would be (already is) SO HOT

At first he wouldn’t have much of a reaction like, okay? I’m a woman now.

Little does he know there’s more to it than that😆

He’d go about his day like normal, sometimes even forgetting that he’s a woman now. But his hair keeps getting in his face?? Men keep staring at him?? Some kid thought he was his grandma??

It was sweet at first, but it was so overwhelming and uncomfortable.

He comes home, in slight frustration. Exhaling as he closes the door and begins to take off his coat, something harshly tugs at his hair.

His hair was stuck on the mf zipper ಠ_ಠ

You try to hold in your laughter at his misfortune. “Here, let me help.”

While you’re untangling his hair, his face remains still and stoic. “When will this be over ᇂ_ᇂ?”

He is actually very suddenly interested in skincare. Why? Not sure.

He sometimes sees you putting on all these serums and face masks but never felt the need to ask you about it. Plus, you sometimes helped him shave-that was the closest thing to skin care this man has ever gotten to.

But now he has a face of a woman, so his skin feels a lot smoother and softer. He thinks to himself, should I be taking care of it?? What were all those things y/n was putting on her face🧐?

WAIT THATS SO CUTE OSKJS🏃🏼‍♀️💨

So you help tie his hair into a pony tail and the both of you put on face masks😆

He somehow really enjoys doing all these self care tasks that he’s never thought about in his life🤔

Imagine the both of you sitting in a bathtub, rose petals covering the water. Your heads are wrapped up in towels as you sip on wine. Cucumbers are placed on Oda’s eyes.

He could get used to this😏

Sexy time🙈

He’s a very quiet dom on the usual, but suddenly he’s very vocal when he gets his pussy ate‼️

He’ll love it when you top. Now he kinda knows how you feel when he’s pounding into you 😏

If oda actually had kids as a woman, he would a A HOT MILF😳

Akutagawa

He’d be like what the fuck is happening ಠ_ಠ?

Wouldn’t give much of a reaction on the outside (pretending to play it cool) but on the inside he’s having 20 mental breakdowns at the same time.

Please help him😁

He’ll definitely dismiss you saying “I can handle it myself ಠ_ಠ”

“Ryu, your hair is in knots and you’re limping on your heels ◔_◔”

“...ಠ~ಠ”

Taking a bath is now even more difficult for him. He feels embarrassed even looking at himself. His chest has these two lumps and his hips suddenly have curves and his skin feels smoother and softer.

His boobs catch his eye in every outfit he wears. No one else really notices or cares except him. Finally one day, he’s had enough. He stomps to you with a determined face, pointing at his chest.

“I want these off. Now ᇂ_ᇂ”

“...I don’t think it works like that...◕ ◡ ◕?”

Eventually he’ll have to adapt. He’s still the same person but just imagine aku as a hot emo goth girl 🕺

Will be 10x scarier than before now that he’s discovered black eyeliner and actually likes growing his nails out (reminds him of claws to rip off people eyeballs)

It’s a love/hate relationship tbh LMAO sometimes he loves how powerful he feels in high heels. Other times, he hates how others look down on him just because they underestimate how powerful he is (even as a woman)

Can I just add, Atsushi almost did a double take and called aku “the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen” before he found out it was aku ಥ‿ಥ

Aku noticed, Atsushi noticed that he noticed, and they both just decided to keep silent and move on as if it never happened 🤝

[hyunjilicious]

onlyfans #2 [ransom drysdale x reader x lee bodecker]

A/n: !!!! part two is here and I’m literally so excited lmao. It was supposed to be twice as long, but stick around because I’ll start writing part 3 asap!! I love this concept!! Come talk to me about it!!

Summary: Ransom decides that what his onlyfans account needed to get more traction is a threesome. So here he is, Sheriff Lee Bodecker in all his glory. (SMUT) 8.9k

Warnings: unprotected sex, double penetration, oral (both receiving), humiliation, degradation, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics, domestic submission, daddy kink, slapping, spanking, dubcon/noncon, filming sexual acts... they’re both assholes, you have been warned! Absolutely DO NOT READ if any of these upset you or make you uncomfortable in any way! Also, 18+ in case that wasn’t clear lol. That being said... ENJOY!!

 You can read part 1 here, although this works as a standalone too!

Despite your fingers nervously trembling around the small brush in your hand, your makeup turned out just about perfect. And now, you were just standing there, in front of the mirror, studying every inch of your face, searching for any small detail that had yet to be fixed. There wasn't one. Just like always, you now looked perfect too. 

Still, the will to stand up and leave was absent. It was perfectly silent around the room, creating the perfect environment for you to get lost in thoughts. Your stomach was buzzing with enthusiasm and your palms were sweaty, yet you wanted to delay the moment for as long as you could - maybe the eyeliner wing on your right eye was a bit too thick - maybe you needed to start over. And you were just about to do so, to grab the makeup remover inches away from your hand, and undo the work you've put so much patience in. But you didn't get to.

The door opened and Ransom walked inside. 

You didn't turn around, as his frame showed up in the mirror, right behind you. 

"You look beautiful, love" he said softly, his fingers dancing through your recently styled hair.

"Thank you"

"Look at me" he cooed, tilting your chin.

You fell back against his hard abdomen, smiling deeply as you searched for his stern eyes. They were cold, you knew he had something in mind.

It was one of those days when he wouldn't allow anything to go wrong. Although always a control freak, throughout your relationship, you learned when it was absolutely necessary to not piss him off - and it was more than easy to tell that this was one of those times.

"I love you" Ransom smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

His touch warmed you up from the inside. Slowly, his hands descended from your shoulders, caging your chest into a sweet embrace, before grabbing your breasts into his palms. You moaned lightly, your eyes falling closed.

"Such a good girl" he chuckled, squeezing harder until you squirmed under his touch. "Does it hurt?" he asked, his grip not loosening up.

You nodded, eyes still closed and your smile just as wide. "But I like it," you confessed.

"Of course you do, baby" he laughed, "I know exactly what my baby needs"

Cheeks on fire, you spun around in your chair, and wrapped your arms around his middle. Ransom rubbed your back a few times, before harshly pulling you up to face him, "How are you feeling? You feeling good? Excited?"

"Yes" you nodded eagerly.

He took a deep breath, kissing the top of your head before returning to look at you with a serious glare in his eyes, "Lee's gonna be here real soon, and I need you to be real good for me, ok? I know you can, but you can also be a pain in the ass, sometimes. Now is not the time, Y/n, ok?"

"Yes, I know" you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck, "I'll make you proud, you'll see. I wanna do this right, Ransom, I won't let you down, I promise."

Hearing your words, the corners of his mouth tilted into a devious grin, "Why aren't you always like this?" Despite his words being somewhat cold and condescending, there was awe in his eyes. It didn't always look like it, but he loved you more than he could ever put into words - he did it in his own fucked up way, but he did, and you knew it.

"I try" you giggled, "You know I always try to be good, it's just that sometimes it's hard with you"

"I wouldn't be so hard on you, baby girl, if you didn't ask for it"

"Ok" you sighed, smiling as you spoke inches away from his lips, "You know I never actually mean to upset you, right?"

"Of course, angel, you're not that stupid"

"Oh my god" you rolled your eyes.

Laughing at his antics and at his ways of making everything that came out of his mouth sound demeaning, you turned around to give yourself another look in the mirror.

"I'm not finished, baby" he sighed, grabbing your elbow to spin you around. "Now, I know you're not dumb enough to say no to me, but it's not gonna be just us two today-"

"I know" you cut him off, stomping your foot, already growing annoyed with what looked like his lack of trust in you, "I won't do anything to piss him-"

"No," Ransom said harshly, grabbing your chin. Your blood ran cold as his demeanor changed. "Why do you have to go and make assumptions, hm? Told you to be a good girl and listen to me. He's not even here yet, and there you are, interrupting me when I'm speaking to you. You know how much I hate that. Are you capable of shutting that mouth and listening?"

You nodded against his grip, eyes wide with regret.

"Good" he cleared his throat, "What I wanted to say, you dumb slut, is that if he does anything you don't like - and by anything, I mean so much as breathes the wrong way, you tell me, and he's out, got it?"

"Yes" you whimpered, taken aback. You did not see that coming.

"You'll be a good girl, listen to him and do whatever he says, yeah? If you don't like him, you come to tell me. If you don't come and tell me, I'll assume everything goes, understood?"

"Yes"

"Use your words, full sentences, come on, Y/n, I know it's hard for you, but you can do it," he growled, shaking your entire frame to get your attention.

"If- if I don't like him-" you mumbled, "I'll tell you. Otherwise, I'll do everything he says"

Instantly, his face contorted into a sick smile, letting go of your chin, "Was that so hard?"

You weakly shook your head, "No"

Ransom opened his mouth to say something else, but the sound of the door bell ringing beat him to it. A wave of anxiety washed over you, but he never looked more excited. Ransom hurried towards the door of the bedroom, stopping just before waking out, "Is that blow job proof?" he asked, pointing to your lips.

"Yeah" you nodded.

"Good, I like a challenge" he grinned, "Come downstairs whenever you're ready"

"Wait-" you hurried to stop him, "You never told me what to wear"

Ransom frowned, looking you up and down. You had a violet bralette on, and a pair of shorts. This wasn't right.

"Wear whoever you want, love" he said confused, "You won't be in them long anyway"

"Ok" you whispered, head buzzing with a million possibilities, "I'll be right there"

"Take your time, baby"

And with that, he left. 'Fuck' you thought, rushing over to your closet. Nervous sweat coated your entire body as your eyes scanned over the multitude of clothing options laying before you, yet none of them seemed to fit the occasion. You knew better than to wear something unnecessarily skimpy that would make every one of your movements uncomfortable, but at the same time, you knew sweats wouldn't cut it. After a moment's worth of careful consideration, you took off your bra and instead put on a black cashmere shirt, with the top buttons undone to the point where your cleavage was nothing more than suggestive, and tucked it into a pair of high waisted shorts. For a second you considered adding heels to your outfit, but figured none of the two men patiently waiting downstairs would think twice before asking you to put them on in case that was what they wanted. So, you hooked your fingers around the heel of the shoes, and left the bedroom.

As you tiptoed your way down the circular staircase, Ransom's familiar tone became audible. When you rounded the corner, his voice came to a halt, and instantly, his eyes met yours.

"Babe!" he called, his proud smile lighting up the room. He raised one hand to wave you over as he sent a knowing grin to his guest.

From where you were standing, you could only see the back of Lee's head. Now, you had seen pictures of him, yet a buzz of anticipation coursed through your body. As you walked across the living room, Ransom's eyes never left your frame, but Lee took his time. He had only turned to look at you when you reached them, deep, hungry blue eyes scanning your frame.

You knew he was a sheriff two towns over, so that was why you found yourself just slightly disappointed with the fact that he seemed to have left his uniform at home. It made sense, but you still wished he had brought at least the hat. 

His attire resembled a police uniform, however these were regular clothes. Nothing more than a black shirt tucked into some worn out pair jeans, and a leather jacket to top off the look. At a first glance, he wasn't the type to take your breath away, but still, your eyes remained trained on him.

He looked about a few years older than Ransom, which made him maybe 15 years older than you, only the thought tugging the corners of your lips into a frenzied grin. You did your best not to stare, but you found yourself somewhat drawn to him. He wasn't your type, not even by far, especially considering the way his belly pushed down on the belt of his jeans, but the circumstances allowed, and you couldn't deny the pang you felt between your legs when you remember what he was here for.

"Baby?" Ransom called. With a small jump, you came back to reality, and turned to your boyfriend, a polite smile on your lips. "Sheriff Lee Bodecker, Y/n. Y/n, this is Lee"

Before he even finished making the introductions, you had already tiptoed your way over. "Nice to meet you" 

Up close, there was something different about him. He didn't bother standing up, instead just spread his knees a little wider, taking your hand into his and kissing your knuckles, "Nice to meet ya, sweetheart"

Tingles went up your arm from where he had just pressed his lips to your skin, and as your mind was busy processing the situation, you failed to say anything else.

Ransom saved you the embarrassment, cutting off the silence, "Love, grab us something to drink, ok?"

"Yes, of course!" you jumped, eager to change the tone. "What would you like?"

"I'm a whiskey man myself-" Lee snickered, "I'll take whatever you guys have, though. Just make it cold. Ice, if ya got any"

You turned to Ransom. "That Toussaint no.05 bottle, baby, you know which one?" he asked.

You nodded.

"Good, now hurry"

And you did - you almost stormed out of the room, rushing into the kitchen. Being out of their presence felt like you could finally breathe again. Planting your hands on the cold, marble counter, you leaned forward, taking in breath after breath. 'Calm the fuck down' you thought to yourself. 'The fuck is wrong with me? He's not good looking-' you cringed, squeezing your eyes shut, 'Then why am I-' 

You stopped yourself before even articulating the thoughts. You were afraid of what it meant. That was not something for you to process right now. So, forcing yourself to not make any wrong move, you took out the good glasses stashed on the top shelf of the kitchen counter, added a couple of ice cubes, and watched the whiskey linger along them. 

Cringing at the thought of announcing the drinks were ready, you decided to walk back inside without another word, and placed the glasses on the small coffee table between them.

"Where's your glass, puppet, ya gonna drink straight from the bottle?" Lee asked, not even hesitating before attacking his whiskey.

"Oh, I don't really drink"

"Why not?" he asked, cringing from the sourness of the drink.

"I-" you stammered, turning to look at Ransom.

"Have a sip" he laughed at your innocence, pointing to his glass, "See if you like it"

"Come on, angel, you'll love it." Lee chuckled, patting the spot next to him on the couch, "Pour yourself a drink and come sit down with me"

Against your better judgement, you did as told. You went and fixed yourself a glass, but when you returned, it was as if the alcohol had already gotten to them. You knew they couldn't have been drunk yet, but it sure looked at if it was what they needed to get the vibe going. Ransom gestured for you with a simple nod to join Lee, and on shaky knees, you did so.

In your mind, you were going to walk over there and sit at least 10 inches away from him, but he had other ideas. When you reached him, Lee spread his legs, tapping his thigh, "Come 'ere, doll"

You gulped and sat down in his lap, his hands instantly finding your hips. "You good?" he asked, rubbing his big, calloused hand up and down your bare thigh, "Seem a little tense"

"I'm good" you smiled shyly.

"Ya sure?" he asked tauntingly, throwing you a wicked smile that exposed his teeth. It sent shivers down your spine, but you nodded obediently. Wanting to release some of the tension, and due to a lack of a better answer, you turned to Ransom, who much to your dismay, had his nose buried into his phone - his attention nowhere near to whatever was going on in the room.

Lee was quick to cry for your attention, not too shy to grab your chin and get you to face him again. "Don't you think you and I should get to know each other a bit?" he taunted, "Or do you not have any kind of problem fucking a random stranger?"

"I-" you muttered, eyes widening with surprise, "Yeah. You're right, yeah. We should"

It was as if he could feel the tension in your veins. And it was if he feasted on the uneasiness that enveloped you. His proud stare showed just how much he was enjoying the moment.

"Let me see you, then, doll" he hummed, rubbing the back of his fingers up your side, tracing the curve of your breast. "Got no reason to be shy" he added, tugging at your collar.

"I- I'm not shy" you sighed, shaking your head.

"Told ya to drink some of that whiskey, doll, would've made things easier." Lee grabbed the highest button that was still done on your shirt, playing with it between his fingers, "Wanna see your tits, baby"

Determined to at least start on the right foot, you didn't hesitate to open a few more buttons and then pull the shirt over your head. Never in your life had you felt more exposed, and the pain between your legs reflected that perfectly. 

"Sorry to interrupt-" Ransom laughed, standing up from his spot.

His voice nearly startled you. Embarrassment took over you when you put all the pieces together, and your palms got sweaty just thinking about what he was about to say.

"I'll give you two some alone time-" he continued, "Gotta set up the room anyway. But I need to post a picture before, a little hype never hurt nobody, right?"

"Right" you nodded, waiting for further instructions. 

However, they didn't come from Ransom. Lee grabbed your waist and spun you around, your back now facing him. Straddling his right leg, you pushed your ass back against his crotch and brought your chest forward, tilting your head to the side, as you waited for Ransom to take the picture.

He was chuckling as he did, shaking his head with an expression on his face that you failed to read. Instantly, he shoved his phone back in his pocket and walked over to you. He laced his fingers through your hair, looking down into your eyes.

"You gonna be a good little girl for Mr. Bodecker?"

"Yes"

"You'll do anything he asks, ok?"

"Yes, I will" you nodded.

"Promise me?"

"Yes, I promise" you smiled up at him.

"Don’t piss him off, Y/n, you'll regret it later" Ransom threatened, but he did so with an eager grin on his lips.

"I won't" you giggled, "I promise"

"She can't piss me off" Lee butted in, his whole frame shaking with laughter under your weight, "Look at her"

"I see her" Ransom smirked, walking towards the bedroom, "I fucking see her but you'll be surprised how big of a fucking pain in the ass she can be when she wants to"

"You look a fucking gem to me, doll" he grinned.

You turned around in his hold and settled back on his thigh, but this time facing him. "Thank you" you smiled.

"Can't lie," Lee chuckled, "Curious what you could do to piss your daddy off"

"Nothing on purpose"

"Course not" he agreed, every now and then his glare slipping down to your exposed chest. "Can tell you're a good girl, and you know your place. Wouldn’t be standing here if you weren't, would you?"

"I guess not"

He took a deep breath, "I tell you what-" Lee sighed, grabbing your glass and shoving it into your hands, "Drink this. All of it, like the good girl you said you are, and maybe then I won't have to force the words out of you, hm?"

"I'm sorry-" you tried to excuse yourself, "I'm just-"

"Drink!"

His tone made the temperature in the room drop, and you didn't hesitate. The alcohol burned its way down your throat, upsetting your stomach before you even finished the drink. The bitterness became too much, and feeling your gag reflex threaten to stop you from ingesting any more of the whiskey, you straightened your back and pulled the glass away from your lips.

"What did I say?" he raised an eyebrow, "Finish it"

And he helped you with it, guiding your hand back up to your lips, forcing the remaining liquid to pour down your throat. A few stray drops escaped and dribbled down your chin, giving him the perfect excuse to gather them with his thumb and then shove his digit into your mouth.

You gathered your lips around his finger, your eyes shakily looking for his.

"See it wasn't that hard?" he laughed, and you nodded no, without breaking the eye contact.

"God damnit, girl, got my cock all hard already"

You watched him carefully, unable to answer with his thumb still knuckles deep into your mouth. It was clear you were driving him insane, his cock bulging against the material of his pants.

"Come 'ere" he eventually said, moving his hand to grip your chin, roughly pulling you towards him.

You leaned into his touch and followed his lead. Slowly, you found yourself bent over him, your chest pressed to his, as he welcomed your lips into a greedy kiss. It took you aback, but you gave in completely. He took the lead, one hand on the back of your head and the other on your waist, his tongue exploring your mouth with nonchalance. For better support, you planted your palms against his shoulders, hoping you could pull yourself up and straddle his hips. 

"Like this" the sheriff grunted against your lips, effortlessly guiding you higher up his thigh. You settled with a small huff, holding onto his chest for better balance. The hunger on his lips was consuming you as he kissed down your neck. His hands reached behind your back, pressing you down into his leg. Unconsciously, you started to rock back and forth, slowly and subtly, not wanting things to escalate, all you needed was a bit of release.

But Lee caught onto it, snaking his fingers under the hem of your way too revealing shorts, "Wanna get yourself off on my leg, doll?" he whispered against your jaw, tightening his hold on your ass.

You whined lowly, not giving him any kind of answer.

"Is your cunt wet?" he asked, his hands not leaving your ass.

"Yes-" you cringed, pressing yourself harder down against his thigh.

"Then fucking strip, and get yourself off"

"Now?" you gasped.

"No, tomorrow" Lee rolled his eyes, slapping your cheek hard enough to get you to realise just how serious he was. 

For the first time, you felt actual fear in your veins, but at the same time, your fingertips buzzed with determination to please him. So you scrambled off his lap and undressed, your jeans sliding off your legs with ease, followed by your panties, drenched and already slick with your juices. His glare burned your skin but you returned to your place against his leg.

The feeling of your bare core against the material of his jeans drove you insane. It was rough and slightly painful, but once you started to move, rolling your hips along his muscles, the pain started to fade into pleasure. With your hands gripping the sides of his shirt under his jacket, you worked on getting yourself off.

"Look at me" the sheriff commanded, slapping your ass, "What goes through that head of yours now, hm? Tell me"

"You" you panted, slowly looking up at him with shame in your eyes, "Now- what I'm doing now-"

"Makes you feel like a slut?"

You hesitated, but answered, "Yes"

"And you love that, don't you?"

"Yes.. I do"

"Should've figured that out sooner" Lee shook his head, his hands lewdly gripping your breasts, "You whore yourself out for money everyday, don't know why I thought I should go easy on you. You don't want that, do you? For me to go easy on you? You wanna be roughed up real good. Saw what your daddy does to you everyday, you can take it"

"Yes, I can take it" you whined, doing your best to work with what you got. No matter what you did, you wanted more. More pressure against your clit, needed something to enter you, needed Mr. Bodecker to push your buttons just a bit more. 

"Were you always like this?" he taunted, guiding your hips towards a more profound release, his nails deep in your skin as he spoke through his gritted teeth, "Whiny, and with no fuckin' shame? Eager to please whatever man touches you?"

"...no"

"No?" he questioned surprised, "Ransom turned into into his fuck doll, didn't he?"

You nodded, feeling your walls start to clench as you were getting closer and closer to an orgasm.

"I bet you like it better now, don't you?" Lee pushed, "Bet the fuckin' is so much better now that you got yourself a man that knows how to treat a whore like you"

At this point your core was numb as you sweated through every pore, your high moments away. "Never- I- I never had anyone else" you confessed in a shaky tone.

"What?" Lee exploded, perverse enthusiasm threatening to burst out of him. He smiled like you've never seen him before, his pupils dilated as a rush of jealousy washed over him. "That fucker, shoulda known" he shook his head.

"He loves me” you tried to articulate, your words coming out all whiny and muffled.

“Show me how much you love your daddy-” Lee growled, grabbing your chin into his hand. He immobilized you so that you couldn’t look away, his eyes so vile and crude that you felt violated to your bones, “Cum for me if you love him, you know that’s what he wants”

“Yes” you cried.

“He wouldn’t have you in this position if he didn’t love you, baby” he huffed, his lips wet with spit as the anger in his words took over, “He trusts you to be good, don’t let him down”

“I don’t want to let him down”

“Then be a good fucking slut and cum”

You felt pleasure roll up your spine, your eyes squeezing shut as tears broke away at the corners. You bit down hard into your lips, coming undone into the hands of the stranger Ransom chose, and you didn’t have anything against it. As wave after wave of liquid ecstasy surged through your frame, you moaned out loud, profanity after profanity, until your body reached its limits and you fell into his hold, body limb in Mr. Bodecker’s lap.

“Knew you had it in ya” he commented, rubbing your back, before rolling you off of him. With minimal effort you settled by his side on the couch, naked and sweaty, your thighs sticky together as you waited for his next move.

“I know sluts like you think better after their pussies get some attention, so now you can listen to me” Lee taunted, his hand exploring your body.

With big, doe eyes, you remained silent.

“Got a few rules for you, doll” he grinned, slipping his fingers along your sensitive folds, “Think you can keep up?"

“I can” you responded, just his condescending tone making your clit buzz all over again.

“Once that camera is on, I’m not a fucking sheriff and my name isn’t Lee, got that? I’m Sir to you, or whatever that brain of yours manages to muster. Don’t care what you have to say anyway, so you can go ahead and call me whatever you deem appropriate. If you choose anything stupid, you’ll regret it, so I’m counting on the fact that you won’t”

“I won’t” you shook your head, finally slipping in the right mood for what was to come, “I’ll call you Sir”

“Good,” he slowly nodded, his eyes scanning your body. His hand still between your legs, was teasing your opening, making you crave more, but you knew better.

“What are the other rules?” you asked innocently.

“Had a couple more” Lee admitted, standing up from the couch and motioning for you to follow suit, “But won’t it be so much more fun if you figure them out as we go?”

“I don’t want to do anything wrong” you pouted, scrambling to your feet.

“Sweet-” he grinned, slapping your ass and pointing towards the bedrooms, “I’m sure you will though, and I can’t wait”

“I won’t” you beamed, turning around and walking backwards up the stairs, “You’ll see!”

“Wanna make me real proud?”

“Yes!”

“Figure out what the other two rules were, and maybe then I won’t think you’re just a dumb fuck toy”

“You’ll see, Mr. Bodecker” you giggled, rushing up the remaining steps before reaching the bedroom, “I’m more than meets the eye”

He shook his head, amused with how eager you turned. Your whole attitude changed, you turned from a sweet girl, shy but still determined to do right by her daddy, into this completely other version of yourself, walking naked around the house, smiling proudly when a stranger decided to openly degrade you. Did you care? Not in the slightest.

It only came to you as a sudden realisation that you had no clothes on when you walked into the bedroom, and saw Ransom chuckling under his breath after his eyes landed on you.

“Is that how you get to know people?” he shook his head, opening his closet and fishing out a Tshirt for you, “You fuck ‘em?”

“Jesus-” you scoffed, turning the shirt around in your hands and then pulling it over your head, “We didn’t fuck”

“So you’re just naked and flushed for no reason”

Before you got the chance to say anything you might soon regret, you heard the floorboards creak, as Lee entered the room and walked around you towards the bed. His cock was threatening to rip away through the hard material of his pants, and it wasn’t only you who noticed.

“On your knees, Y/n” Ransom commanded, still on the other side of the room, playing with the camera set-up. 

Without questioning his words, you dropped to the floor, only to have to crawl all the way over to Lee. He looked satisfied, his cheeks red and he seemed on the edge, but he had controlled himself enough. He toyed with your hair as you leaned against his knees, smiling up at him.

“Ok” Ransom said, coming up behind you to face Lee, “Record with this-” he added, handing him his phone, “It doesn’t really matter how good it turns out, the main camera is the one over there-” he said, nodding to the side, “But still, you got the best point of view”

“Yeah, yeah, got it” Lee nodded, taking the phone into his hand.

When no command came for you, you looked up at Ransom confused. 

“What?” he asked, “Want me to teach you how to suck a dick?”

You almost said no. You almost answered probably the most rhetorical question Ransom had ever spoken, and couldn’t help but giggle to yourself. The moment was cut short however, as Lee stood up and undid his pants. Your palms watered as you listened to his belt being unbuckled, and then you didn’t find the will to look away as he started to lower his jeans down his thighs.

You didn’t quite know what you were expecting, but your breathing became unregulated as soon as his enlarged member came into view. More thick than long and with dark veins protruding at its sides, you watched precum leak out of the inflamed head of his cock. 

Suddenly, you felt a pair of hands, Ransom’s, grab your cheeks from where he was standing behind you, and pull you back with force so that he could look into your eyes. He bent down until his breath fanned against your skin, “Don’t hold back, baby, yeah. Suck his cock as good as you suck mine. Don’t fucking disappoint me. You take it down your throat, you swallow and you say thanks, got it?”

When he received your answer in the form of a nod, Ransom pushed you back. He easily guided you forward until you were standing between Mr. Bodecker’s legs. Placing your elbows on his thighs, you picked up his cock, and lowered yourself as deep as you could, planting your tongue as the base of his shaft. You licked your way up until you reached the tip, expertly twirling your tongue along his slit, delighted by the grunts he tried so hard to conceal. 

Pumping him in your hand a few times, you prepared to take him down your throat. You knew he couldn’t last much longer, every sign pointed to him being already close to his release. Wrapping your lips around his tip, you sucked mercilessly from between hollowed cheeks. 

"Love-" Ransom sighed, fisting your hair into his hand and harshly pulling you back. He spoke into your ear, in a grave tone that shook you to the core, "I know you can do better than that”

Hyperventilating, your eyes shot up to meet Lee’s, his expression coated in a crude, hazardous shade of darkness. He brought his hand up to rub his thumb across your bottom lip as he, much to your surprise, guided you back, “Come on, doll”

You obliged, and resumed your work as Ransom’s hold on you loosened up.

You bopped your head up and down against the tip of his cock, chest tightening with the anxiety of going further. It was the fear of the unknown that took hold of you, but it was short lived, your suspicion based dread soon being replaced with a fear that was solely rooted in the acts of the two men around you.

Lee curled his fingers around the roots of your hair, forcing your mouth to slip all the way down his cock. He stopped when it was no longer your will resizing him, but the fact that he couldn’t physically push you any further.

You slumped under his grip, your knees falling weak as your back resumed its curved position, trying - hoping to make some way - any kind of way for air to still pass to your lungs. But it was in vain, as your throat convulsed around his bulbous head, your eyes wet with still unshed tears. Deep down, you knew you could keep going, but your instincts begged for a release. 

Slowly, you curled your fingers into the flesh of his thighs, pressing down hard as your legs squirmed under your weight. You tried to move away, but were only met with the pain of your hair being pulled, as Lee continued to keep you in place.

“Stop fighting it, you little slut. You know that's what you're here for” Ransom called, bending down behind you.

His right hand snaked up your shirt, his greedy touch exploring the skin of your sides and then he went further up your chest. It was suffocating and exhausting, a wave of shame rushing up your spine as the first row of tears rushed down your cheeks.

A loud sob tried to escape your throat but it was muffled by the way Lee’s cock filled your mouth. That didn’t stop you however from continuing to choke back pitiful wails as your air supply was running dangerously low.

No matter how hard you fought him, it seemed in vain. He enjoyed his moment of pleasure too much, his chest shaking with every grunt that passed his dry lips.

“Fuck, yes” he eventually cried out, throwing his head back as he released you from his furious grip.

You stumbled backwards, gasping for air, right against Ransom’s chest. He brushed the hair out of your eyes, looking down at you. His breathing was calm and regulated, almost a mockery compared to the heaving way your chest struggled to make up for the time you spent without air. 

“See?” he laughed, kissing your temple, “Told you you could do it”

It took a few seconds for your vision to focus again, your eyes instantly capturing Lee’s frame. His eyes squeezed shut as he worked himself into his hand. You knew you’d regret it if you let him finish by himself, so you pushed your limits, and despite every muscle of your body trembling out of control, you resumed your position ready to get it over with.

“So eager, you slut” Lee shook his head, gripping your chin. Ransom helped guide you, shoving you back between the sheriff's legs, but this time you didn’t need any assistance in taking him all the way down inside your mouth.

You ignored the pang in your chest when his tip brushed against the back of your throat. Your eyes already wet and lungs close to their breaking point, this time you had no chance in lasting as long as you did the first time. Ransom took it upon himself though, squatting down behind you. His muscled thighs caged your shivering frame, as he pinned you down. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he laughed against the shell of your ear, “The way he’s fucking your mouth? And you just sit and take it, cause you’re a smart girl, right?”

A joke - he amused himself, as if there was any way for you to actually answer.

“You like having your whore mouth filled with a fat cock? Especially when it belongs to a man you met about an hour ago, don’t you?”

This time, you blinked uncontrollably. His devious tone and rude words made your body respond in a jerk like fashion, your pussy starting to throb, all while accelerating the rate at which your body was starting to run out of oxygen. You curled your fingers into the thick material of Ransom’s sweater, your gesture begging him to stop. But he didn’t, not yet.

“Don’t be rude, slut” he taunted, and you heard Lee chuckle, deep and raspy as his hips bucked into your mouth, “I know your limits and you know how fun it is for me when I ignore them”

At this point, tears streamed down your cheeks, ruining your makeup, your glittery eyeshadow now coating half your face. You coughed harshly, your throat closing up against his cock as your gag reflex settled for maybe what was the final warning.

And as it turns out, Ransom did now your limits, as just when you thought you literally couldn’t take any more, not even just one second longer, he grabbed your hair, pulling you back. His action was met with a loud, pleasure infused moan from Lee’s part, all while you broke down. You clawed away at Ransom’s chest, gathering yourself into a ball between his outstretched arms, as you waited for your body to get accustomed to air again.

“Shh, baby-” he cooed, stroking your hair, “You’re ok, look up at me”

And you did, eyes watery and searching for any kind of warmth or understanding. There were traces of what you knew and called love, but they were hidden behind a perverse satisfaction rooted in seeing you at his mercy.

"Do you want to make daddy angry?" he asked, in such a sweet tone it made it feel like a crime to give any answer other than what he wanted to hear.

"No" you nodded sincerely.

"Then finish him off, pet, don't waste my time" he urged you, pointing to Lee.

Without even bothering to wipe your tears, you spun around and faced Mr. Bodecker again. He was far away from you, head tilted back as he chased his release by himself.

"Open" he commanded, rubbing his thumb across his slit. 

As it turned out, you were not fast enough to comply, as he broke out of his daze, his palm connecting to your cheek, "Fucking open that whore mouth!"

In a matter of seconds, your lips parted, tongue poking out as you waited. And it wasn't a long wait, his hot cum shooting out of his cock and directly into your mouth in an instant.

You swallowed with every chance you got, licking your lips in search for any drops you may have missed. He cursed his way through the earth shattering orgasm, the chain of profanities that come out of his mouth managing to make all the hairs on your body stand up. 

He finished with a low grunt, "Yeah.. yeah.. fuck.." milking his cock until there was nothing left for you to take.

"Good fucking job, you slut" he chuckled along with a shake of his head, almost looking surprised, "Had plenty of practice, didn't you?"

"A bit" you mumbled coyly.

"Oh, so then you're a natural" he laughed, "Makes sense. A whore mouth of yours should always be stuffed"

Due to the lack of a better response, you looked up and muttered a shy "Thank you"

The rollercoaster of emotions and thoughts that stormed through your head at this particular moment made it absolutely impossible for you to keep up with them, but judging by the way he grinned down at you, it should be safe to assume they were not expecting anything more.

With each moment that passed, you found yourself slipping deeper and deeper into a vicious and twisted state of mind, and you let yourself get carried away - both mentally and physically.

In a haze, Ransom grabbed you and threw you on the bed, not even giving you a chance to settle properly before ruthlessly tugging at the shirt you still had on, ripping it off your body with one excruciating screech. His action accentuated the pain between your legs, and you ended up rubbing your thighs together as you sat naked on the bed while the two men looked at you like prey; 3 cameras still pointed at you, still recording.

You licked your lips as Ransom shuffled out of his clothes, your heart rate fibrillating with anticipation. “On your back, pet” your boyfriend commanded.

Following his orders, you let yourself fall back against the plump pillows, your hands around your chest and knees innocently pressed together. Ransom rounded the bed, coming up behind you. He leaned down above you, coming into your line of sight. Even upside down and with his features mostly hidden away by the shadows of the room, his eyes still shone that familiar shade of darkness that brought you to submission in an instant.

As he bent down all the way to press his lips to yours, you felt your legs being pulled apart. Just because you couldn’t see what was going on aroused you to no end, making you moan into the kiss. Ransom’s hands traveled down your body, caressing your breasts with that amount of pressure he knew would have you squirming. And it did, it worked, as you arched your back, whining against his tongue as he tortured your nipples between his experienced fingers.

He almost monopolized your full attention, your mind concentrating solely on the feel of Ransom’s touches, and this too, again, worked in their favour. Out of nowhere, while you were still enjoying the calm moment, a painful slap echoed around the room, the pain only propagating across your body after you processed what happened. 

That was Lee’s way of demanding your attention, or maybe his way of reminding you that this day wasn’t about you and your pleasure. The slap he delivered against your exposed and sensitive pussy had you whimpering out in pain as you pulled away from Ransom’s lips and gathered yourself into a ball.

“Come back here, darling. Where do you think you’re going?” he laughed, pinning your shoulders down against the mattress, as Bodecker aggressively straightened your legs again. “Wanna make this hard?” Ransom questioned.

“No” you shook your head, “No, no, please”

“Then fucking behave!” he yelled, his instant mood swing taking you aback. 

“I’m sorry”

“Fucking pull away like that again and you will be, you dumb slut” he scoffed, slapping your face again.

In the meantime, Lee crawled between your legs, his sordid nature shining bright as he decided you weren’t worth even a warning, before he rammed two fingers inside your pussy, knuckles deep.

“Fuck!” you screamed, fighting against your instinct, and resisting the urge to close your legs together.

Your reaction won you another slap, this one more tame from Ransom, who towered over you, “Who the fuck do you think you are talking to like that?”

“I’m sorry” you whined, breathing heavily as Lee picked up his pace, his fingers fucking your pussy in a way that was neither painful, nor pleasurable. He worked on driving you close to the edge, tormenting you in the slowest way possible.

“Full sentences from now on, sweetheart” Ransom chuckled, gripping your hair into his fist and forcing your head up to look at Lee, “He’s fucking your cunt, what do you say?”

The look in Bodecker’s eyes cut your breath away, as you’ve never in your life felt more humiliated, but you pushed through, “... thank you?”

Ransom pulled on your hair, “Full sentences, you dumb slut”

“Thank you for fucking my pussy” you said barely above a whisper.

Lee grinned wickedly at your words, “Haven’t even started yet, darlin'” he shook his head, lowering himself between your legs. He licked his way up your folds, his tongue brushing against your sensitive clit a few times before he pushed himself up.

“Just messin’ with ya, doll” he mentioned, lowering himself again.

His words confused you as he resumed his position, his lips finding your clit again, sucking profusely. Your hips bucked under him, the pressure of his teeth brushing against your bundle of nerves, starting to be too much for you to bear. When you moaned out loud, eyes squeezed shut and back arched to the extreme, he pushed himself up, and slapped your pussy again.

“You cum on my cock” he grunted, moving further up the bed.

He leaned on his back, Ransom effortlessly guiding you on top of him. With your body like jelly in his strong arms, you settled with a soft huff, knees on either side of Lee’s hips.

He groaned in pleasure, your thigh brushing against his cock, which much to your surprise was already hardening again. Arching your back in search of some pressure for your clit, you felt the bed dip on your side as Ransom climbed in behind you, his hands coming up to grip your hips.

He lifted you up, sinking his fingers into your pussy. You moaned in pleasure, only to have your heart stop when you felt him caress his way higher up.

“Ransom?” you called with a shaky tone, as you tried to look at him over your shoulder, “What are you-”

“What?” he laughed, slapping your ass hard enough to bruise, “Didn’t think I was gonna stay and watch the whole time?”

“No, no-” you mumbled, shaking your head, eyes meeting Lee’s in the process, “But I don’t-”

“Don’t like it? Don’t want it? What were you about to say?” Ransom taunted, spitting on his fingers as if that would help with the pain in any way. This pathetic excuse for lube made the hairs on your body stand up.

“I-”

“I dare you” Ransom threatened, “Tell me ‘no’”. As he waited for your answer, he teased your asshole, his fingers aggressively pushing in to stretch your muscles.

“Please-” you whined, afraid the actual wording would send you down a road you didn’t ever wish to explore.

“Please, what?” he asked, “Please Daddy fuck my ass?”

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, as you felt legitimately lost. Uselessly trying to find a way to delay the inevitable, you felt the tip of Lee’s cock toy between your fold before his warm breath hit your skin as he spoke.

“Fuckin’ get on with it already” he huffed annoyed, “Whatcha listening to her for?”. A sob rushed past your lips, making Lee slap your cheek, “Stop fucking crying, take it up your ass like the good slut your daddy said you were, before I lose my patience”

His words stung, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of Ransom’s cock stretching your ass beyond what you ever thought would ever be pleasurable. You screamed out in pain as tears lingered on your chin before falling against Lee’s chest.

Ransom grunted out, his fingers digging into your hips as he felt himself reach another level of ecstasy after watching you mess around all afternoon. The depth his cock reached knocked the wind out of you, your mouth falling agape with absolutely no sounds coming out.

You settled on suffering in silence, hoping it would all end soon. Realisation painfully hit you when you felt the second cock start to penetrate you. Lee spread your folds with his massive cock, stretching your walls.

“So fucking tight” he shook his head, breathing heavily against your face as he forced himself in, “Never thought a whore like you’d be so tight”

And it was all bearable, a pain you considered yourself able to stand. However that all changed when they started to move, their cocks pumping in and out of your in tandem.

With every thrust another cry escaped your lips, the feeling of absolute no control over the abuse inflicted on your body being something you never thought you’d ever dread to this extent.

“Why did we use lube before?” Ransom laughed, letting go of your hips so that he could spank your ass, hard slaps against already inflamed skin, hate in his touch and anger in his tone.

Whenever he pulled out of you, you felt yourself come undone, but when he rammed himself back in, the air was punched out of your lungs, throat closing up with the torment that was getting too much.

Your continuous string of cries was muffled by Lee slamming his lips against yours, his tongue barging in with no warning. He dominated the kiss, not bothered in the slightest by your whimpers or by the fact that you remained motionless against him. He continued to thrust his hips up into you, his hands holding onto your chest, as if you’d ever dare try and pull away.

Despite how wet and needy you already were before he both entered you, you still cursed yourself when you realised just how close you were to another orgasm. 

With each thrust, you were pushed closer and closer to your limit. You arched your back, falling down against Lee’s chest with a cry, “God- it hurts…”

“You lying whore, think I didn’t feel your pussy clench around my cock?” he taunted, tilting your shin up against your will, “Can feel ya milkin’ my cock”

You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping you could at least avoid seeing what was going on if you couldn’t stop it. With each passing second, every one of their movements became more and more aggravated. Hoping to speed up the process and still chasing a release, you snaked your hand down your body, your fingers instantly finding your clit.

You focused on working specific, intricate circles around your bundle of nerves, as the pain seemed to slowly but surely transform into pleasure. For the first time since you found yourself caged between the two men, you actually smiled, as your eyes started to roll back.

For a while, your orgasm seemed to mock you, inches away but still seemingly so far that you were almost out of breath.

What threw you over the edge however was Ransom changing his position, solely his pleasure infused grunt tickling your ears and playing with your senses in such a way that you were instantly hit with a ravening wave of unbridled bliss, the feeling propagating along your limbs until you were shaking from head to toe, crying out as you came undone, for the second time, in the arms of a stranger.

And if until now you felt like you couldn’t take anymore, as you came down from your high, every feeling, every touch, every jab and spank felt infinitely more dire and extreme, your overly sensitive and freshy exhausted body unable to keep up anymore.

What followed turned out to be all a haze. You lost track of time and had absolutely no idea how much time passed until you were finally free. “It fucking hurts-” you whined again, your ass and pussy sore and aching with each thrust.

“Good,” Ransom said, bottoming out. He pushed himself as deep as he could, cursing out from the feeling your body provided for him.

“Please, stop-” you cried.

“Shut up and take it” he screamed, pulling your hair so hard your head was thrown back, “Stop being a fucking bitch. I don’t wanna fucking hear you”

Choked back moans still echoed around the room as they continued to use your body, but you refrained from making any more comments.

Ransom was the first to finish, shooting his load deep inside your ass, “Better fucking keep it in there” he panted, spent and consumed as he pulled out and fell on his back on the bed.

As he stopped guiding your hips, you fell down against Lee’s chest, making him scoff when the position made it more difficult to keep up. Grunting in your ear from the effort, without pulling his cock out of your pussy, he spun the two of you around, pinning you down into the mattress.

He hovered above you, slamming himself balls deep into your pussy, moaning all sorts of profanities against your cheek.

You held onto his back, hooking your legs around his middle, “Come on” you whispered, “Cum inside me”

“Oh, now you want it, huh?” he chuckled in the crook of your next, shoving himself into you a few more times, until he finally had enough. His movements became irregular and sloppy, his growls lower and more aggressive as he fucked himself into you a few more times. He finished balls deep into your pussy, coating your walls with his hot cum before pulling out, and throwing himself down on the bed, in the same manner as Ransom did mere minutes before.

Although no one spoke for a few seconds, the room was far from silent. Rugged breaths echoed around the room as you shuffled closer to Ransom, ready to curl yourself into a tiny ball into his side, “Hold me” you whined against his shoulder.

He wasn’t quick to react, but Lee on the other side, seemed to have been waiting for the right moment to speak up. “Bring us the glasses-” he sighed, slapping your bare ass, “And a refill, doll”

You gulped and searched for Ransom’s eyes, hoping he’d take your side. He did turn to you with a smile, “Yeah, love-” he nodded, caressing your cheek with the back of his fingers, “I’m parched”

Seeing none of them about to change their minds, you shuffled out of bed. Every muscle ached and your bones seemed close to collapse, but you pushed through, limping your way to the living room and returning with their glasses and the bottle under your arm.

After you placed them down on the nightstand, you turned to them, “I’ll go run a bath” you said, pointing to the door.

“Good, babe” Ransom nodded, motioning for you to lean down and kiss his lips. You obliged, finally feeling warmth against your skin after everything that went down.

“I love you, baby” you whined, rubbing your thumb against his cheek bone.

“Love you too, y/n” he smiled. You turned to leave, but just when you were about to pass the threshold, he called for you again. “Lee’s staying over tonight, so when you’re done with your bath, be a doll and fix up the guest bedroom for him, yeah?”

[1engele]

daybreak | sal fisher x fem!reader - 8. solo

Previous | Next

[warnings: underage drinking, smoking, weed, near death experience?, crying]

"never have i dealt with anything more difficult than my own soul." — You leave the roof late in the night. Sal had gotten up and retreated into his apartment a little while earlier—but you'd decided to stay and make sure he didn't come back there.

Three days pass. They all consist of fleeting glances and irresolute tension. Things remain the same with the group dynamic, except for between you and Sal. Neither of you seem to know how to continue from that conversation on the roof. No one else notices, though. They'd never suspected anything from the beginning, it seems.

The beginning of your involvement with Sal involved a little bit of buildup and then a snap which resulted in a sexual encounter (or two).

Now it was a bit different. Now things were a little less lighthearted.

It's a Saturday—you'd planned to spend it inside as usual. That's until your phone starts ringing.

You flip your phone open, read over the contact, and answer the call.

"Hi, Ash."

"Y/N," she starts. You hear the excitement to continue in her voice. "There's a party tonight."

"Oh?" You get up from your seat on your bed.

"Some stoner Larry has connections with invited him and said to bring friends. He wants to bring us—save for Todd. He doesn't do parties."

"Wait," your eyebrows furrow. "Me?"

"Yeah!" She says from the other end of the line. "It'll be fun. Cmon."

You bite your lip nervously, anxiety knotting in your stomach. "I don't know. I've never really.."

Ashley is momentarily silent on the other line. She must be contemplating what to say to convince you. "Sal's coming too. Parties aren't necessarily his thing, either—so maybe you guys could try it out together?"

You open your mouth and then promptly close it. Something inside of you suddenly really wanted to go to this party. "Um... alright. Okay."

"Cool! What're you gonna wear?"

You look toward the drawer that contained your clothes and bit your lip. "Not sure yet. I'll update you on that."

"Okay, don't forget to text me! See you at eight."

The call declined from the other line. The phone that held the phone to your ear slipped into your lap. You pressed your lips together and tried to ignore the familiar feeling of sickening nausea and anxiety.

You don't rush yourself on getting ready for the party, because the time you're due to be done won't be for a while.

You take your time with the hours you have. You shower, take your time on eyeliner, mascara, and lipgloss—and finally decide on what you'll wear.

You decide on a square neck white cropped tank with short sleeves and your nicest pair of light blue, slightly washed out jeans. You slid on your favorite, sort of chunky white sneakers over white socks.

It isn't long after you finish when Ashley calls and informs you she's arrived at the apartments and Larry and Sal have already joined her out in the car. You give yourself a once-over in the mirror and then leave the apartment.

Your mother was nowhere to be found. She's either at work or drinking with her coworkers.

Once you've opened the door and climbed into the Ford Fiesta, you immediately realize your predicament—Sal is the only person in the backseat with you.

The drive there is decently long and painfully tense. Neither you nor Sal know how to speak to each other, so no words are exchanged beneath the heavy metal music emitting from the radio.

When you finally arrive at the party, it's recognizably crowded, drunken teenagers are flowing from the front door, in and out, and there's a good amount on the lawn. The newest radio hit is playing on a considerably loud speaker, and the vibrations are notable even from a distance.

"Woah," Larry says, staring at the house as Ashley pulls onto the side of the road. "Didn't realize he was so popular."

You all exit the Ford Fiesta and cross the road. You cringe as you watch someone vomit onto the grass, and another person ripping from a bong in the wide open.

Smoke flies into your face and your eyes as you enter the home. You cough, waving a hand as you blindly follow after your friends.

Eventually, the four of you find yourself on two couches directly facing each other. You on one, Larry and Ashley on the other. Sal is stood to the side.

Larry materializes a bottle of Fireball that you guessed he stole from someone on the way in, opens the cap with his teeth, and takes several gulps.

"Where did you get that?" Ashley laughs over the music, pulling the sleeves of her lavender sweater over her hands.

"Stole it," he looks to Sal and directs the bottle toward him. "Want some?"

"Sure," Sal replies, to your surprise—taking it from Larry's grasp and walking away and in your direction.

"You're drinking that?" You ask him, testing the waters.

"No, actually," you watch Sal round to the other side of the couch to linger behind you. "I'm limiting him. He'll thank me later."

Once he's out of your field of vision, you tip your head back and gaze up at him—your perspective on him being upside down. Your gaze zeroes in on the bottle of Fireball he's clutching in his hand.

"Hey," you say, meeting his eyes. "Give me some."

It was time to give him that excuse—the excuse to break the ice.

He leans in a bit, gesturing toward you with the bottle. "You want it?"

A grin pulls at your glossed lips. Instead of reaching for the bottle, you open your mouth and tilt your chin up.

Sal looks on for a moment but laughs once he realizes what you want. Everyone else at the couches seem decently distracted with each other and the overall environment—so he doesn't seem to worry about it too much.

He reaches his hand around and towards your neck, gripping your jaw in his fingers and holding you firmly. You feel his cold rings press into your skin when he tips your head further back just a bit—and then steadily pours a shot-amount of Fireball into your mouth with his other hand.

Sal stops at the right time, looks on as you pull back and sit up, and cautiously watches the back of your head as you assumedly swallow the whisky. But when you turn a bit in your seat to peer at him over your shoulder, you're holding your mouth closed and pressing a closed fist to your lips while soundlessly giggling.

"What?" He laughs, a hand moving to the top of the couch. He leans in a bit. "Can you not swallow it?"

Your shoulders shake slightly as you continue to laugh. You shake your head up and down.

"Do you need to spit it out?" Sal asks, his tone warming into concern.

You shake your head from side to side. You meet his eyes and swallow, gasping as the liquid slides down your throat and burns all the way down. You cough, the flavor of cinnamon and what tasted like Big Red gum overloaded your senses.

"God," you breathe out, giggling all the while. The alcohol is gross but you're feeling good. "It's not great."

"Yeah, that's why I'm holding Larry off, so he won't be puking his guts out later."

You look up to the boy, who's sat on the arm of the couch opposite to you. He's busy talking to some equally stoned guy, so you can't manage to catch his eye—but you catch Ashley's.

She had this look of astonishment on her face.

Had she been watching what happened? When Sal poured Fireball in your mouth?

Your face grew hot thinking about it.

Sal wanders away from you again, and you find yourself drinking more than you should. Eventually, your rationality disappears.

It's been a few hours and Sal hasn't seen you for a while. So when he hears about a girl wearing a white crop top walking across the roof of the house, he feels like he's going to vomit.

It takes him a record time of 6 seconds to get out of the door and onto the lawn. Upon looking up at the roof, his suspicions are confirmed. He shoulders past multiple people to place himself near the front of the crowd and gazes up in horror.

"Sal!" You yell, gesturing toward him with something between a wave and a point. "I'd recognize that hair anywhere!"

Multiple heads within the crowd turn away from you and towards him. He puts aside his social anxiety and the wave of unease that washes over his body and tries to focus on you. "Please come down," he rushes out, raising his voice just enough for it to be audible over the crowd.

You laugh like he's told a hilarious joke and he quickly realizes his mistake. That's the worst thing he could've told your intoxicated self. You move toward the edge of the roof, shaky and uncoordinated. "You want me to jump?"

"No!" He exclaims, his hands flying up, fingers splayed. "No. Don't do that!"

"Holy shit!" He hears Larry shout from somewhere closer to the front door of the house. Sal guesses he's just now catching wind of the current situation. Moments after, both of his brunette friends are at his side.

"What the hell is going on?!" Ashley yells, verdant eyes glued to the sight before them.

You lost your balance once again, but this time a bit worse—your foot catching on a shingle on the roof and effectively knocking the red solo cup out of your hand. It dropped onto the downward slope of the roof and the liquor inside of it spilled down the side.

Whenever Sal witnessed the toe of your white sneaker catch onto that shingle, he felt as though his very soul had been ripped from his body. Immediately after he watched you regain your footing and stable yourself, though—his heartbeat calmed to a steadier pace.

"I'm going up there," he stated beneath the chatter.

Both Ashley and Larry's heads whipped toward him.

"You'll kill yourself!" Larry exclaims incredulously. Ashley opens her mouth to assumedly second Larry's statement, but Sal cuts her off by walking away.

"Not before she does," he mutters, pushing his way through the density of bodies and forcing his way through the front door. His senses are disoriented like he's been submerged beneath water as the volume of the music scratched at his eardrums and pulsed the innards of his skull. Adrenaline courses through his blood like a drug whilst he shoulders past both mindlessly drunk and carelessly high teenagers.

Sal doesn't spare them a second glance, but their unconcern does remain in his mind. The fact that they're continuing their lives while he feels as though something that's growing into something of importance in his is about to be taken from him... it's mind-numbing.

He's never been an optimistic person, he's always tried to view things in the way they're most likely to happen—and all that's beneath that two-story house is a long drop and concrete. If you fall, you'll break your head open and you'll die.

He finally makes it to the stairs. He makes a break for it then, tripping over his own feet multiple times. Anything could happen in this amount of time, and he knew no one else was going to help him.

Sal's thoughts grow more and more disordered as he navigates the dark halls of the house. The music seems to have only grown louder, the deafening mixture of guitar and drums taunting him.

He remembers the window on the outside of the house. Sal estimates which room it would be, locates it, and approaches the door. He turns the knob, but it doesn't fully rotate.

The door is locked from the inside. Of course. Who would have a party and leave the bedroom unlocked so people could fuck all over your comforter?

He bites out a curse only he hears and prepares himself to force the door open.

Sal grabs the doorknob tightly, prepares himself, and rams the side of his body into the wood. He doesn't even feel the pain, just does it again, and again.

He goes until that half of his body is numb.

The door finally budges, and he wastes no time entering the room. He doesn't hesitate when he reaches the double-hung window he'd been seeking. He grips it at the bottom and pulls it up and open, clenching his teeth together painfully.

Sal stares out at the vastness of the night, the golden streetlights, and how they shine down on the crowd of people below him. They all seem to be looking at the same place, up, but not at him—and he can only swallow thickly.

Carefully, Sal moves to sit on the windowsill, gripping what was above him tightly, his legs outside. He then ducks to leave the room and shivers as cool air hits the front of his neck.

He starts walking the roof, steadily—like his life depends on it. Because.. it does.

Or yours. Yours depends on it.

"Y/N!" Sal calls as he finally reaches a point where you're in his line of sight. Momentarily, he's worried he'd scared you. But you turn your head, meet his eyes, and smile. Despite that, your face spells fear all over it. Something must have sobered you up a bit while he'd been inside.

"I'm going to come to you. Do not walk towards me!"

You blink lazily, because you were drunk, and nodded. You shivered, hugging yourself. It didn't seem to do much, though. Your arms were bare.

"Fuck," he breathes, gazing down at the fall that could await him if he misstepped and immediately reverted his gaze. Blood rushes between his ears as he steadily makes his way towards you.

"Please don't fall!" You suddenly exclaim, your hair tussling in the breeze. A strand blows over your face, so you quickly raise a hand to move it back in place.

He looks up from his feet and stares you in the eyes. "I won't," he affirms, you and himself, continuing across the roof. "Just stay put, okay?"

It doesn't take long to get over to you. He's mostly sober, so it isn't hard on that part. What's difficult is calming his steady heart.

He's not scared of falling. Not necessarily scared of injury or death. But he is scared of not making it to you.

Once he's at an arms reach of your shaking form, he reaches out a hand, palm facing the darkness of the sky.

You seem to read his mind, slowly grabbing his hand. Sal maneuvers your joint hands to where your palms press together and your fingers are interlaced. He doesn't know if it's the blood rushing through his ears or the distance from the ground, but it's as if everything below becomes very quiet.

You meet his gaze, your pretty eyes glossy with tears. The eyeliner you were wearing had just begun to collect beneath your lower lash line.

He squeezes your hand and leads you to be in front of him.

It's not long after that that he's gotten you off of the roof. Sal watches you slip through the open window before turning toward the density of people beneath him on the ground. He breathes in as he catches both Larry and Ashley's eyes—he can't read their expressions, but he wouldn't be surprised if there was shock written all over it—and then ducks back into the window.

As soon as the window is shut and it meets the windowsill once more, Sal whips his head toward you. "Y/N-"

Before he'd saw your face, and the language of your body as you were sat on the edge of the bed, he was going to scold you, and then go downstairs and find you some water and sober you up—all of that falls down the drain when he sees the stream of tears falling down your face. Every time you blink, more drop—quickly staining your cheeks with black makeup.

"Oh," he breathes, suddenly speechless. "Y/N-"

You attempt at taking a breath in, it seems—but it's a failure because it hitches and turns into a shoulder-shaking sob.

"I'm sorry," you cry, roughly dragging the tips of your fingers beneath your eyes. This only smears the running mascara further. "I'm just drunk."

Sal momentarily feels like breaking down in tears himself, that's how much this entire ordeal stressed him out. He approaches your trembling body and crouches down in front of you.

"Hey," he says, softly. "It doesn't matter whether or not you're intoxicated. Your feelings still matter, okay?"

You sniffle, still attempting to wipe your tears away, and reluctantly nod. "I'm sorry," you try again.

He places his hands on your knees and squeezes them firmly. "It's okay."

You jerk into a sob, leaning forward and pressing the side of your face on his shoulder. You slowly tuck your arms beneath his and cross them over the expanse of his back, palms flat on each shoulder blade. The convulsive gasps were hard to stop, making it hard to breathe.

Sal breathed out softly against the prosthetic, raising his arms and encasing them around your torso.

He didn't wonder about the reason for your tears. Assuming things wouldn't help you anymore.

"I don't know why I did that," you whisper, quieting yourself to swallow your saliva. "Maybe I do. I think I was trying to prove something to myself."

He finds himself holding you tighter, your chest pressed to his, feeling your heartbeat through the fabric that separated you both—oddly enough, even at this moment, it reminds him of that night in the car. You had been even closer to him then, though.

"It was stupid," you murmured. "Why would I do that, after what we had talked about last night?"

"What if we jumped together?" he remembers saying.

"Some things can't be explained," he replies earnestly. "You don't need to know why you did what you did. It was stupid, though. I'd probably walk across the roof of a two-story house for you again, but.."

You pull back and meet his eyes, your face wet. The majority of your makeup had been cried off and your lipgloss had been smudged.

You must've sensed his examination, breaking the visual contact and sniffling. "I know I look ridiculous right now."

Sal smiles. He knows she can't see it, but maybe she'll hear it. "I don't think so," he murmurs, looking off to the side. "I think that's a bathroom. You can clean up in there if you want."

You follow his gaze and then return your eyes to his and laugh a bit. You still sound drunk, he notes. Obviously. He'd poured a good amount of Fireball into your mouth and watched you drink plenty of other things.

"Feels kinda weird using a stranger's bathroom," you laugh, your breath hitching from the earlier crying.

Sal rolls his eyes humorously, gripping your knees tighter as he pulls himself off of the floor. "The guy who lives here is Larry's friend—and a stoner. I doubt he'd mind. And if he does get mad, I'll take responsibility for it. I forced that door through, anyway.."

Your gaze swivels toward the door, which is not shut but mostly closed. When he glances to where you're looking, he notices it seems a bit.. crooked.

He inwardly cringes. "I'll pay for it. Come on."

Sal follows you into the bathroom. You seem reluctant to enter first, so he does, opening the door and reaching to the side to turn the lights on. They do what they're supposed to—eventually. They're momentarily unresponsive before becoming alive—the illumination brightening the room with a dull yellow hue.

You step onto the tile and began to search for whatever it was you needed. You kneeled at one of the cabinets below the sink, opened it, and ducked your head lower.

"Oh!" You exclaim quietly, reaching in and pulling out two things. A bottle of half-empty makeup remover and a bag of some cotton rounds.

"Maybe he has a girlfriend?" He hears you say to yourself, standing up, nudging the cabinet closed with your foot, and placing the things you found beside the sink.

Sal reaches over and closes the door. He'd rather not have to witness the sight of some drunkards wandering in and fooling around on the bed.

"Lock it," you say. "I'd rather no one- no one see me like this."

His hand was already on the doorknob, so he just reaches down a bit and locks the door.

He watches you struggle a bit with the bag of cotton rounds, trying but failing to open it, so he reaches forward and delicately plucks it out of your grasp.

Sal slides the makeup remover over and pats the place on the counter it was previously. "Sit."

You peer into his eyes inquisitively but waste no time hoisting yourself up and onto the cold surface.

After that, he plucks the bottle of makeup remover off of the counter and douses the cotton round in the liquid. He reaches forward from the distance that your knees created between the both of you, but you spread your thighs and press the heel of your shoe into his lower back, pulling him in so he's between your legs.

Sal doesn't see it suggestively, because you're drunk—but he's glad you asked him to lock the door because, with his luck, Larry or Ashley would find their way into the bathroom and get all of the wrong ideas.

The firmness just beneath his navel presses into the edge of the counter as he cups one side of your face and began wiping away at the eyeliner and mascara and everything it messed up.

"Thank you," you say sweetly, blinking at him with appreciation in your eyes. "Where'd you learn how to do that?"

He remembers a silhouette. Her back was turned to him, golden hair cascading just past her shoulder blades. He remembers blue eyes that looked a lot like his own staring into a mirror, a hand which adorned a wedding ring wiping away makeup from the day.

"Read it on the label of the bottle," he replies, meeting your eyes and looking away.

As he's finishing up, he hears a rapping of knuckles against the locked door. He tosses the used cotton rounds into a trash bin in the corner and then locks eyes with you curiously.

"Occupied," he calls out, still looking at you. The knocking only gets louder, which makes you laugh.

"He said it's occupied!" You yell over the unintelligible music downstairs, your words breaking into a giggle. You press your knees against his waist, and he doesn't even realize it when his hands meet your thighs.

The knocking ceases, fading into a voice. "Is that you guys in there?"

Fucking Larry. Speak of the goddamn devil—that's what he would've said if he'd come knocking sooner.

The both of you seem to be thinking the same thing, locking eyes in terror. You quickly get off of the counter, and Sal unlocks the door and swings it open.

Sure enough, he's standing there—in all of his glory and highness. Larry blinks, the whites of his glossy eyes tinted red. He looks between the both of you before speaking. "Why were.."

"I had to pee," You choose to deadpan.

Sal feels himself grow even paler than he already is. "I came in.. after.. that."

Larry intakes a mouthful of whatever is in the red solo cup he's holding in his tan, lanky fingers, and swallows thickly. "Okay," he croaks, instinctively cringing as the alcohol passed through his chest. He gestured the cup toward you. "Uh..crazy stunt you pulled up there, huh?"

Sal saw your face shift in his peripheral vision. "Huge lapse of judgment," you reply.

"Nobody could tell who you were, so don't worry about that," the brunette smiles a bit. He returns his attention to Sal. "They've started playing country," sure enough, Sal hears the sound of a banjo from the speakers downstairs, effectively punctuating Larry's statement.

"Yeah.." Larry mumbles, sipping his drink and looking up and through his eyebrows. "Ash said to come find you guys so we can leave."

It doesn't take much, after that.

As you're leaving, Larry pulls the door open and furrows his brow at the condition of the hinges. "Wow. How old is this thing?" He mumbles.

Sal hears you snort.

The three of you descend the stairs, skirting past countless teenagers standing on the steps drinking or smoking. Sal makes the mistake of letting you fall behind and feels you stumble and smack him in the back. It's easy to steady himself, quickly gripping the railing—but he's concerned about you, so he turns around.

A guy with a cigarette balancing in his teeth is eying you with frustration pulling at his features. His gaze pulls from your face and down your body absentmindedly.

"Watch it," he murmurs.

"Sorry," you breathe, jerking your head away and meeting Sal's eyes worriedly. Keep walking, you express in the hues of your eyes.

Sal reaches forward and interlaces your fingers with his as he'd done on the roof. He makes a show of it, too—so the guy with the cigarette sees the rings on both of his hands. Sal gives him a distinct look when they lock eyes, rolls his jaw, and lets you lead him down the stairs, instead of the other way around.

By the time you're all nearly shot from weaving through the multitude of sweaty bodies and navigating through plumes of smoke thicker than fog, the three of you find Ashley petting what he'd assume is the host's dog.

No one questions it.

"You good to drive?" Larry asks, placing his cup on a nearby surface.

"Oh, yeah," she rises from her crouch beside the dog. The animal walks away, his golden tail wagging excitedly at the next person who would give him pets. "A gross sip of something put me off of drinking tonight a while earlier. And, uh.. the whole roof thing dried me out."

You sigh. "I'm sorry about that. It sobered me up, too."

She shakes her head, a wispy strand of light brown hair falling over her face. "It was stupid, yes, and I hope you don't do it again, but all that matters now is that you're safe."

Ashley blinks kind green eyes at you and smiles, reaching forward, taking your hand, and leading you away. Sal hears you laugh and follow after her as both of you head for the front door.

He turns to look at Larry once he loses sight of both of you in the crowd. He examines Sal with bleary dark eyes and looks as though he's about to say something, but he doesn't get to.

Even over the blaring country music, Sal hears a yell and then some fearful shouting. He whips around toward the sounds, which were toward the front of the house.

Red and blue flashing lights shine through the windows.

"Shit!"

"Ah, fuck," Larry groaned, nimbly wrapping his fingers around Sal's wrist and dragging him into the density of the panicked crowd. "Did you see where they went?"

Sal shakes his head. "No," he knows you're intoxicated. Panic settles in. He chews his lip, his eyes desperately scamming for a girl wearing a white top squared at the neck—you. "Y/N's had a lot to drink, Larry. If the police-"

"Don't worry about the Five-O, let's worry about the girls," Larry replies absentmindedly, keeping his firm hold on Sal.

"They must've gone to the Ford," Sal shouts over the music, which, for some reason, is still playing. "We were leaving anyway. I'm sure they're in the car."

Larry releases Sal and motions toward the back of the house. "There's a back door. I'll text Ashley and tell her to drive down the block and we can meet them on foot."

It was an agreeable plan. Waltzing out of the house and walking straight up to the car wouldn't be wise.

Larry does what he'd said he'd do. Turns out, Sal was right, they had made it to the car moments before the police had rolled up. Ashley informed him it was two squad cars and four officers. Seemed like overkill for a house party—but he wouldn't know. He didn't do this often.

When Larry was on the phone, Sal was very tempted to ask about Y/N, but refrained.

On the way to the back door, they crossed through the kitchen. Larry snatched an unopened bottle of alcohol of a brand Sal didn't recognize and carried it along with him for the road.

As soon as they made it out of the house, they both made a break for it, running between houses and into multiple different backyards on their way.

They slowed down once they were at a measurable distance from the party, gasping for air. Sal panted against the prosthetic, placing his hands on his knees and slowing his gasps into slow breaths, attempting to calm his racing heart.

They stood on the side of the road, the music in the distance (albeit a lot quieter) still pounding into the night.

Sal lowered himself down onto the curb. Larry joined him, raising the bottle he'd chose to bring with him to his mouth, and opened the steel cap with his teeth. He spits it onto the road and gestures it toward Sal.

"Bottoms up," he said, bringing it to his lips and taking several gulps.

Sal rolled his eyes playfully, eyebrows rising as Ashley's Ford Fiesta cruised down the road and slowed to a stop in front of them. He stood up from the curb and pulled Larry off of it as well.

They entered the car, sliding into the backseat. Larry continued to down the beer he'd found as Ashley turned around in her seat.

"The night's still young," she says. "Any ideas of what we could do?"

It's really not. Sal's a bit disoriented so he doesn't know what time it is but he wouldn't be surprised if it was 3 AM.

You then turn around in the passenger seat and grin mischievously. "Let's go to the lake."

Oh, great.

[bruhstories]

gummy

summary: it's time to show porco how you like it pairing: porco galliard x fem!reader (modern au) warnings & content: oral sex (female receiving), fingering, softsub!porco, softdom!reader, jealous!porco, jealous!reader word count: 969

a/n: i looped gummy by brockhampton while writing this so i suggest you do the same xD i'm sorry this is so short, i get very easily distracted by other fics

Porco takes you for granted, that's a fact. You're the perfect trophy girlfriend — beautiful, dumb and most importantly, submissive. And he makes sure people know who's wearing the pants in your relationship. Until you just can't take the humiliation anymore. Actually, you can take it, you love it when he fucks you silly, but it's time for a change, time to show him who owns who.

You show up at Pieck's party, fishnets hugging your supple thighs, blood red lipstick and an eyeliner that could cut a bitch in half. The smoke makes it hard to see, the music makes it hard to hear, but you have a mission in your mind, and you're determined to accomplish it. You set your eyes on Reiner — poor guy doesn't even know what's coming for him — and flash him your most innocent smile. Porco hasn't showed up yet, so you use this to your advantage, swaying your hips from side to side, asking Reiner to dance with you. He reluctantly accepts, fingers grazing his goatee.

"It's just a dance." You tug at his sleeve, pulling him closer to you. "No strings attached." Giggles erupt from your throat and Reiner relaxes.

"I know, I know. It's just, you're Porco's girlfriend and he already has beef with me."

"I am his girlfriend," you agree, twirling a lock of hair between your fingers, "not his property. I can do what I want, and right now, Reiner, I want to dance with you."

He's either too easy to persuade, or you're just too convincing, because within seconds, his hands are on your waist, waiting for your permission to tentatively move them to your hips. The corners of your mouth twist into a sultry smile, and he takes it as a yes, calloused fingertips grazing over the bit of exposed flesh above the waistband of your skirt.

And then comes Porco, and all he can think about is that two can play this game. He invites some girl to dance, and she's fawning over him like he's the only man in the room. You can feel your blood boiling, the rage heating up in your core.

"Your boyfriend's here." Reiner pulls you out of your trance.

"Mmm, is he now?" You purr, your hands travelling from his shoulders to his neck. The song is coming to an end, so you lift yourself on your toes, giving Reiner a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks for the dance."

Porco sees it all, and when you walk past him without even saying hello, he grips the girl's waist a bit too tightly. She yelps, a playful smirk on her lips, but he pushes her to the side, completely ignoring her protests. You pour yourself a mix of vodka and cranberry juice in a blue cup, bringing it to your lips.

"What was that all about?" Porco leans on the counter, arms folded across his chest.

"What was what?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Y/N." He takes another step and all you want to do is scream at him that he dumbs you down. "You and Reiner."

"...yes?"

"Well?"

"Well what, Porco? Use words, you're a big boy." Sarcasm drips down your tongue and he doesn't like it one bit, you can tell by the way he clenches his jaw.

"Are we really gonna do this here? I’m talkin’ about you and Reiner dancing. I've seen the way he was holding you, touching you."

"Oh, please, as if you didn't do the exact same thing." You wave your hand and he catches your wrist.

"What was I supposed to do since my girlfriend was busy with another man?" Porco's grip tightens.

"You were late."

"I'm always late."

"Then how about you arrive on time for once?"

Shock is plastered on his face at your sassy attitude — and you normally arebratty but this? This is different, it's as if you're challenging him. Porco releases your wrist, eyes narrow and throat dry. There’s something about your condescending tone that makes him back off.

"'M sorry."

"Yeah, you better be." You lean closer to him, lips brushing his ear. "Now how about we go upstairs and you eat my pussy like the starving dog you are?"

Bathroom door locked, you're sprawled on the fluffy rug with your boyfriend's tongue deep in your cunt. He's working hard to satisfy your needs, eagerly lapping at your juices, fingers pumping in and out of you. You yank Porco by the hair, and he's perplexed by your rough gestures.

"How does it feel to submit, you pathetic excuse of a man?" He can't speak, his eyes are glued to your dripping pussy. "Fucking talk!" You slap him across his cheek.

"F-feels good!" Porco yelps and you push his head back between your thighs, draping your legs over his shoulders.

"Get used to it! I'm so sick and tired of you bossing me around." Your breath hitches. "Sick and tired of playing dumb."

"Mmm sowy-"

"I don't need your apologies, I need you to make me co-oh-me!"

Porco doesn't disappoint. His tongue moves in ways you didn't think were possible, and soon enough, your legs begin to tremble, your moans echoing in Pieck's bathroom while you dig your manicured fingernails in his skin.

"Good boy!" You shove him off of you, pulling your panties up as if none of this ever happened.

"What about me?" His voice goes up an octave as he licks his lips.

"As if. You better keep your dick in your pants until we get home, puppy, otherwise I'll have to punish you. And don't you dare jack off. I'll know. Understood?"

"Yes…"

"Yes what?"

"Yes, ma’am!"

Click and the door is unlocked. You walk out, leaving behind your needy boyfriend with a painful hard on.

"Oh, hey, Reiner! How about another dance?"

[mochiiwrites]

🍁✨Autumn Troupe Headcanons!✨🍁

Hooray for more uncensored swearing! Sorry, this took so long! It’s hard to think of things for the Autumn Troupe since I don’t know them super well!

🍁🧡Banri Settsu🧡🍁

Whenever it's time for practice, Banri begins by smacking the back of Juza's head! (Not super hard, but enough for it to piss him off)

Diluc main, that is all. Before he got Diluc he was an Amber main, and somehow was good. Still uses her every once in a while!

Slightly intimidated by languages sometimes, I dunno how to explain it, so hopefully the dialogue does!

“Banri, come here for a second.”

“Hell no, I’m in the middle of a match right now.”

“Banri.”

“Sit your ass down and wait, Chikage! I’m busy!”

"Halika dito! Huwag kang humintay na papatayin kita at iwanan kitang dumugo sa lansangan! Inumin ng mga aso ang iyong dugo at kukunin ng mga uwak ang iyong laman. Gusto mo yan?!" ("Come here! Don't wait for me to kill you and leave you bleeding in the street! Dogs will drink your blood and crows will take your flesh. Do you want that ?!" ) I'm unsure of the translation, since the filipino was from Irumaaaaa_saaaaamaaaaa's comment on my Ao3! I just put it into google translate

“Damn! Fine, fine, I’m comin! Chill out!”

His older sister gave him a leopard plushie when he was a kid, which is why he’s fucking obsessed with animal prints!

Plays drums and almost broke the coffee table because he “jammed too hard” on it!

Constantly messing up Taichi’s hair, or he’s drumming to songs on his head.

*boom boom bap boom boom bap*

“Buddy, you're a boy, make a big noise, playing in the street, gonna be a big man someday! You got mud on your face, you big disgrace! Kicking your can all over the place, singin'-”

“We will, we will rock you!”

“Haha! Hell yeah!”

🍁💜Juza Hyodo💜🍁

Likes carrying Muku or Kumon on his shoulders! Sometimes they still parade around!

“Are you sure about this, Ju-chan?”

“Yeah, you’re real light, y’know.”

“What the hell are you doing, Hyodo? Practice is soon.”

Chews on things a lot when he’s nervous! He always has gum or a lollipop to avoid chewing on his shirt, his nails and other inedible things!

Uses shorter Mankai members as an armrest, but only the ones who are okay with it! He’s polite like that.

On nights where he just can’t sleep, he’ll go on walks or drive around on his motorcycle!

Terrible with eye contact and looking like he’s paying attention. Sakyo has to snap his fingers at him to make sure he’s listening!

Y’know the awkward sibling hug from Gravity Falls, he and Kumon have done that...a lot. It’s not actually awkward though, they just liked the show!

“Awkward sibling hug?”

“...Awkward sibling hug.”

*embrace*

“...pat, pat.”

....

“Hyodos, what the hell?”

🍁💖Taichi Nanao💖🍁

Cried twice when he got his piercings, the first time was because he was very, very afraid, the second time was because he was so happy that he looked good with them!

Has Heelys! One time, he tried to 'heely' into the rehearsal room, but he immediately fell over!

Plays the ukulele! He wanted to play guitar because he saw someone serenading their partner with it at school! He borrowed Masumi's guitar but bar chords suck and his hands are kinda small, so he settled for the uke!

"Aghhh! How do you play that! That hurts my fingies!"

"I have bigger hands and more experience."

"But you're only like an inch taller than me!"

"Height doesn’t really have anything to do with this."

Has a Tiktok! He doesn't post often, it's more for looking at memes or sick outfits. (He does the dances though! He's pretty good at them but they're all in his drafts since he's not super confident in them!)

Y’know how kids crawl up the stairs really fast. He does that. Constantly. Kazunari joins in, sometimes. It pisses Sakyo off a lot, but he gave up on trying to get them to stop.

"Taicchan, what are you doing?"

"Kazu-kun! I got the zoomies!"

"Nice! Can I join ya?"

"For sure!"

*Rapid thumping up the stairs*

"Aren't you gonna stop them, Sakyo?"

"...If I had that ability, they would've stopped a long time ago. Those idiots don't listen."

He LOVES Sk8 The Infinity! Langa's his favourite character! He's also probably a Reki kinnie!

🍁💙Omi Fushimi💙🍁

(It's blue like his regular shirt and Tumblr doesn't have any other colours ;-;)

Despite being tone-deaf, he hums a lot when he cooks! No one seems to mind it!

Enjoys scrapbooking! He kind of prefers scrapbooks to albums, since scrapbooks have a more homemade vibe, you know?

Gives the best hugs, and tends to hold hands with the younger members when they cross the street!

Regularly has this conversation!

“Banri, have you eaten?”

“I dunno Omi, have YOU eaten?”

“...I have. But that's not what I’m concerned about.”

“...I had a granola bar like, an hour ago.”

“...I’m making you something.”

When he first joined the company, he took notes on what everyone liked and didn't like to eat, plus if they had allergies! He still has it, he just doesn't need to use it anymore!

I feel like something like this has happened once!

“Ah, Omi! Can you help me grab something?”

“Oh, sure. What do you need, Sakuya?”

“Homare asked me to get some of that tea, but I can’t rea-”

*lifts Sakuya like Simba*

“Ah! Omi, haha! What are you doing?”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it! Do you want me to stop?”

“Oh, no, it’s fine! It’s kinda fun actually.”

🍁💛Sakyo Furuichi💛🍁

Absolutely blind without his glasses, like it’s really bad. He walked into a doorframe without his glasses. Thankfully, no one noticed (he thinks).

He has a bit of bubble-wrap in his a pocket all the time and sometimes he uses it as a threat! (Hopefully that made sense...)

“Settsu, move over.”

“I literally can’t! Your fat ass is taking too much space!”

*pop*

“Just scoot your lazy ass over.”

*pop*

“I can’t I already-”

*pop*

“...Alright, I get it! I’ll shut up! Jeez, how is that so threatening...”

“...Asshole.”

*pop*

“...Sorry.”

Definitely told Azami that Santa wasn’t real when he was like 6.

Sakoda got him a mug that said #1 Dad but he crossed it out and replaced ‘Dad’ with ‘Aniki’! Sakyo still drinks out of it, sometimes!

Azami also made him a friendship bracelet when he was a lot younger. Sakyo doesn’t wear it (because it doesn’t fit him anymore) but he still has it! He likes rubbing the beads between his fingers.

Good at trivia! Like, really good. He somewhat enjoys Trivia Murder Party. (I just watched a play through and skipped to a random question, I have no idea if it’s actually hard lol.)

“Which body of water connects the Mediterranean Sea to the Atlantic Ocean?”

“Wh- How are we supposed to know that?!”

*Sakyo answers ‘The Strait of Gibraltar’ and is the only one who answers correctly*

“Fuck, my thumb slipped.”

“That shouldn’t be allowed. Sakyo’s shitty and old, he shouldn’t be able to know and remember things.”

“Oi, brat. I’m not that old. You’re not the one who got the answer right.”

“You’re not the one who literally never learned this!”

🍁❤️Azami Izumida❤️🍁

Has smacked too many cans/cups out of Itaru and Tsuzuru’s hands!

“Wh-”

“Drink actual water. And jeez, go take a nap or something. Your skin is even worse than I thought it could get. Aren’t you supposed to be the responsible one in the Spring Troupe?”

“Ah... I guess, you are right. Thanks for looking out for me.”

“W-well! W-we can’t have you on stage looking like a raisin! S-so!”

Often criticizes Izumi’s eyeliner and ends up just doing it for her. N-not that he minds or anything!

Played Love Nikki at some point, I do not take that much criticism.

Because I think the troupe/play themes are canon, he definitely helped with Shake the Shape and wrote some of RESPAWN!

Always has extra hair ties on him, even though most of the others don’t really need them. Most of the time, the hair ties end up being used for...other purposes.

“Ready.”

“What?”

“Aim.”

“Azami, I swear to whatever god is listening, if you fire that elasti-”

“Fire.”

“...You shitty brat-”

“Oh shi-”

Part of the ‘wears nail polish’ squad! He hates stickers. (Most of the time they somehow fall off) His go-to is an alternating pattern of black and red.

[yulight]

BitterSweet

Description: Vampires, Club, Sexy Victon, I’m just trash for Seungwoo

Word count: 2.6k

Genre: Part one Suggestive , but we all know its a Smut, PWP,  with Vampires. Warnings: may involve biting blood, does involve alcohol, Dom Seungwoo,  um Hanse is hot .  Paring(s): Seungwoo x Female reader! Suggestive Somi x Hanse  

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

It wasn't too common for Humans, To mingle around the city at night. The streets never seem to sleep here, From daylight Humans carried out their routines While during Dusk to Dawn the other half of society came out. The town was owned by Vampires, actually literally owned by them, Humans only a couple hundred years ago became able to live within the town. Within the centuries, rules and laws were placed to keep both parties safe and able to coexist together. However one major law that the humans lived by was recently lifted, the Law of curfew, it was placed in the beginning years of the town to insure no human was hunted, hurt or kept for stock.

However, The console thought the law is in time for a change since, living with humans was part of their daily life now. It's been nearly four year since that law was lifted, many Humans still keep to their routine However, some boldly adventure off into the nightlife. Your Friend being one of them and this time she was dragging you to an event with her.

“Come on y/n you’ll love it please” She grabbed onto your wrist as he looked at you with famous puppy dog eyes, you hated how cute she was. “Pleaseeeeeeeeeeeee” she whined making you roll your eyes as you sighed in defeat. “Fine, I’ll go but if a single vampire even looks at me the wrong way we are leaving” You crossed your arms. 

“For one, you’ll be lucky if they even look at you! You don’t know how hard it is to get their attention” She would smile falling back against your bed.

“So where are we going what kind of event is it” You lean closer to you vanity as your tied your hair up into a bun. Her silence was making you a bit uneasy as she would, as you turned around sitting on the desk of your vanity. “.. No” you shock your head as you looked at her “we are Not going to the club opening” 

“You already said yes though.. Come on, it won't be bad we just be having fun! Haven't you always wished to go to a club like they do on movies and stuff. Please just one time” Somi sat up from your bed as she grabbed your hands starting to beg again. Her pleads making you laugh a bit, under your breath. She was right, I mean she knew beforehand you guys grew up together so whenever movies or shows that had clubs and nightlife in it you both would stay up talking about it. You remember the time when you both snuck out a window of her parents house sitting on the fire escape watching all the Vampires roam around the streets, that until one of them noticed you both sitting up there and threatened to bite you if you both didn't go to sleep. Ever since then, you both used to be so scared of vampires, you don't understand where her bravery came from. Thinking about it now, it may be childish to still be scared of someone who was most likely joking, and was generally wishing for you to get a good amount of sleep.

Her soft whines would snap you out of your faint memories and thoughts “Fine, but i still mean it we are leaving the second one gets too close to us okay?” She gave a faint nod “Okay cool so we have a half an hour to be there.” 

you would blink shaking your head “What? Wait, it's today? Somi!! you know how i hate you throwing plans on me last second i don’t even have anything to wear!” You groaned lightly as you rubbed your face. 

“y/n its okay, i bought us both dresses i came prepared” she would give a small laugh before grabbing her bag, pulling out two nicely folded dresses “this red one is for you, and the black one is for me” she hummed happily She would hold up her dress pressing it against her body as she smiled “shoes are also in the bag” she would turn as she left your bedroom heading to the bathroom to change. You would pick up the dressing looking at it rolling your eyes. You wouldn’t, you couldn’t wear this, the dress was so tiny wanting nothing more to scream at her, but you knew would get her way. It was like her magical charm.

You placed the dress down onto the bed grabbing a pair of heels out of her bag, thankfully you and somi shared the same shoe size.Making everything easier also great when sharing shoes., you would strip from your oh so comfortable pajamas, into Tight red dress that formed to your body, it had a small amount of lace work around your breast with a slightly deeper cut than you hoped for. Thankful the dress wasn't beyond  too tight as he held a slit going up halfway from your thigh. Giving your just enough room to breath. 

“Look at you!!!!!!!” Somi would give out a little yell as she walked into the room smiling “you look so good” You couldn't help but to laugh a bit as you rolled your eyes “You’re something else Somi”  Somi dress was far more modest, at least in your own opinion . Her Dress held one sleeve, but was far the length was a bit shorter than yours, and the bottom had a small side raise making her left thigh more noticeable. She would grab the second pair of shoes from her bag as she sat down on your bed strapping them onto her feet. 

You rolled your eyes as you sat down at your vanity pulling your hair out of the bun, watching it fall to your shoulders in the mirror grabbing the brush you ran it through your hair a bit before parting the same way you always do. Running your fingers over your makeup collection you would look back at Somi “what do i even do for make up?” .

She would look up at you from her phone “eyeliner maybe lipstick if you're feeling cheeky if not tint or gloss. It's not anything too special. It's not like any handsome vampire will notice us we’re just going to dance” you gave a small nod before turning back to the mirror, grabbing your eyeliner, drawing a small wing on each eye hoping they both came out even Grabbing your favorite lip gloss you would apply it to your lips smiling to yourself a bit. Somi would already be standing up holding a small handbag for you open “put your lip gloss and phone in her also your ID” you rolled your eyes “my ID is literally inside the case of my phone” you grabbed the small black handbag from her throwing the golden chain over your shoulder . as you placed your phone and lip gloss into the small bag. 

-------

You hated it, you hated how quickly you both entered the club, the bouncer only looking at you and somi for a second before letting you both in. You held onto each other's hand as you walked through the busy club,you couldn't believe how beautiful everyone was. You always knew vampires were more than blessed with their visuals, well being if they were born one at least. Somi would move around the club floor dragging you along with her before stopping at the bar. She would give you a quick small glance before sitting down.

“We get a drink, then we find a spot on the dance floor” She would explain a bit before looking over at the new found person who stood before the both of you. The color of his eyes were soft yellow eyes, which contrasted with how sharp his eyes shape was. The color of his eyes complemented his orange hair. “What can i get for you two?” His voice was Dull, monetoned and cold. You would look over at Somi who seem to be lost for words as she stared at the male, you would lightly kick her making her clear her throat and look away from the male “ah can we get a Dusk till Dawn and “ she would look over at you “ah - a blue lagoon “. The bartner would look between the both of you before nodding, and walking away. 

He nearly only took a few steps away before Somi had nonsense spilling out her mouth “did you see him” “he's so attractive “ “did you notice he as a lip ring” “ i like how his eyes match his hair” 

“Somi.. “ you laughed looking at her as she covered her mouth laughing “I'm sorry Y/N but, he was really nice looking, like he also has tattoos. I didn't know vampire could have tattoos”

“You know he can properly hear you” You shifted slightly in your seat looking around to see if he was close by, only for your eyes to lock with a pair of red ones who were staring at you from the other side of the club. Quickly turning around you looked at somi “See i knew this was a bad idea, we're getting stared at” you whispered lightly as you looked at her. 

Somi would roll her eyes “oh sto-” The orange hair male would make his way back to the both of you, as he crossed his arms lightly against his chest “the one in red, is wanted in the vip area.. Best not keep him waiting, doll, and do not worry. I’ll keep the one in black safe if thats what you’re worried about” He would point as two men appeared behind you and Somi. One with white hair the other with a faded pink. “They will bring you to Seungwoo.” The Pink haired male, held his hand out helping you from your seat. You would look back at Somi confused only to see her staring at the orange haired vampire without regards to you being moved off into The VIP area.

Your drink sat on the Table, along with a handsome, Very handsome man, who bared the same red eyes that were staring at you earlier. You stood before the table, holding your own hand interlocking your fingers as you lightly chewed the inside of your cheek. Unsure of what to say or do. “You should sit down” the tall white haired Vampire  whispered lightly into your ear, which made you jump forward nearly jumping onto the black haired male who called for you lap.

Inching yourself away a bit he would wrap his arm around your shoulder looking down at you pulling you back to his side. "How nice of you to accept my invitation” His voice was smooth and soft. His hand would reach for your drink handing it to you as he smiled slightly looking down at you. You would happily accept your long awaited drink taking a sip as he spoke “You know, You’re a very beautiful girl, I can’t dare to let any filthy vampire just wander around something as beautiful as you.” His comment throwing you off guard, the alcohol burning your throat as you let out a faint cough. 

“.. i..” you stutter a bit as his slender fingers lifted your chin raising your gaze to meet his own again. "You’re supposed to say Thank you”  You would look away, feeling your cheeks heat up “Thank you?” you questioned lightly before getting a small hum of satisfaction from him. “You know a conversation works when both parties are engaged, unless.. You just want me to tell you what to do that can be arranged as well” Seungwoo would glare down at you making you clear your throat as you looked down at your Drink. “Sorry, i- .. I’m just lost for words right now”

Seungwoo raised a brow as he looked back over to the two men who stood by the booth, both of them nodding as they turned on their heels to walk away. “Well let's start slow, what's your name” he questioned as he his cold long fingers lightly played with the thin lace of your dress. Shivering slightly under his cold as you placed your drink down onto the table “y/n mine is y/n, and you’re Seungwoo i was told. Ah may I ask…  ”

“No, your friend may not join, no you may not go back to her. She will be well entertained by Hanse don’t worry .and No i won’t bite you.. Unless that's what you want by the end of tonight” he would look away from you as he grabbed his own glass sipping it lightly before leaning back against the booth. “And why you? Well, I said that already. You are beautiful, and i can’t dare let any low rank vampire even look at you”  You would let out a small laugh “what do you mean by low rank? Aren't vampire just vampires”

He couldn't help but chuckle as he placed his glass down onto the table “we have ranks, darling. Pure blood, half blood and true bloods. You can tell the difference from our eyes, like the  bartender Hanse who you friends about to leave her tonight with his eyes glowed with a yellow tint therefore he is a true blood, the two I sent for you have a soft blue so they are half.”  you would nod a bit “and you're red.. And since you speak so highly of yourself i guess that makes you a pure” he would nod “so what's the difference” 

Seungwoo hummed lightly “did they not teach you this in schools? Or did they just say beware of vampires.. Well. Pure, are pure a full family line of vampires. A True is when someone is who was born human and a Half is.. Half? One of their parents were a pure blood the other was a true typically happens when a vampire falls in love with a human and turns their partner into a vampire which also, you can only be a True blood if you are bitten during sex and only by a pure To answer the next question”  His fingers would gently play with the lace again as he looked down at you with a small hum.

You sat back gently as you thought about what he said, then releasing everything he said, the comment of biting you, how he was a pure vampire. Was he imply to have sex with you? Would you even turn him down on the offer? Especially if what he said about Somi was true. 

His face would lean down as his hot breath hit your ear, his lips dangerously close to you the shell of your ear you swore you can feel them “Are you really thinking about that darling? How impropriety” His voice was  was in a hushed tone, but the smirk on his lips was auditability heard through his words. Your face would brighten as you looked up at him. “What?” was he able to actually read your mind? Or was this a game he played often and knew it very well. 

“The second i said sex, your whole body reacted, from your heartrate to your thighs closing. You may think you’re being subtle but darling, I’m not a human. I can read you very clearly” Seungwoo’s hand would gently fall from your shoulder as he moved it to the bare skin of your thigh. “y/n, i know exactly what you want. But are you gonna let me give it to you” he hummed as his lips grazed against your neck leaving a soft kiss under the shell of your ear.

You sat there in the booth stunted, at the question. How does he know exactly what you want, when you barely know it yourself. Is he applying sex with him is what you need? Was he applying something else? Why do you keep thinking about having sex with this vampire.

[silvermoongirl10swfics]

I trust you with my life

For @codywanweek 2021 Day 3: Lightsaber.

You can also read this fic here on A03.

No warnings. This is written as a 4+1 fic.

1)

Cody tiredly dragged his feet towards his tent, it had been a long day of fighting and finally the day had ended in a win. Obi-Wan was reporting to the Council and then needed to comm Skywalker about what they needed to do tomorrow. Unfortunately, the 501st were on the other side of the planet so Cody couldn’t spend any time with Rex. But that was probably for the best considering the exhaustion pulling at his limbs and his tiredness making his eyes feel like they were burning.

Sighing in relief as he pushed his way through the tent flaps of his tent, Cody rubbed a fist over his eyes. After taking his armour off on auto-pilot, Cody turned to his sleep cot when he slowly realised something was different. After pausing for a moment, so his exhausted mind could spot what was out of place, he noticed perched innocently on his pillow was Obi-Wan’s lightsaber. With a resigned sigh, Cody carefully picked up the lightsaber, muttering mockingly under his breath, “this lightsaber is your life Anakin. Hypocrite.”

He sat on his sleep cot, holding his cyare’s lightsaber in his hands which were resting on his lap. Through force of will, Cody managed to keep himself awake, his head would dip forward as his eyes closed, but he was able to jerk himself back into alertness. Cody wasn’t sure how long he ended up waiting, but despite Obi-Wan having been given his own tent, Cody knew Obi-Wan would make his way to Cody’s tent to sleep, and sure enough the tent flap opened to reveal an equally exhausted looking Jedi. Whose robes were creased and covered in dirt, his copper hair looked brown due to the dirt smeared into the locks and Obi-Wan had dark circles under his eyes to match Cody’s. Obi-Wan stopped and stared at Cody, evidently surprised to find Cody still awake.

“Cod’ika? What?” Obi-Wan stumbled out, unable to ask anything else when Cody just held out a hand, a hand that held a lightsaber in it.

“Misplaced something cyare?” Cody asked in a voice that dripped in fake innocence.

“Um…well yes apparently,” Obi-Wan stuttered out, his face turning red out of slight embarrassment.

Taking pity on his exhausted Jedi, Cody stood up and helped Obi-Wan take off his outer robes and belt, but before they both settled on the cot that was technically designed for one person. Cody smirked as he placed the lightsaber in Obi-Wan’s hands, “this lightsaber is your life.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and then turned to place his lightsaber on top of his robes. “Yes, well…I will love you even more if you can refrain from telling Anakin about this little slip.”

“You can love me even more?” Cody joked with a raised eyebrow and a grin. The both of them laid down, Obi-Wan wrapping himself around Cody like a clinging tooka kit.

“It is not a hardship,” murmured Obi-Wan in a tired voice. Cody smiled and kissed his cyare on the forehead, Obi-Wan’s breaths already slow as he drifted into sleep. Once Cody closed his eyes, he was soon following his cyare into a dreamless sleep.

2)

Cody and Ghost company were jogging through a dried-up ravine, knowing that somewhere above them, jumping over the cracks and rocks was their Jedi. It made Cody relax, he didn’t like not knowing what could be in front of them, but they needed to meet up with the rest of the 212th and with Obi-Wan close by, he knew he could trust his cyare to let them know if danger was close.

The only sounds in the ravine were the soft crunching noise the men’s feet made on the sand beneath their feet, their helmets blocking out the sound of their breathing. Then a loud clacking sound, brought everyone to a stop, all on their guard they pointed their blasters behind and in front of them. Until an exasperated sigh broke the silence, “stand down men,” ordered Cody.

He bent down and retrieved the offending item that had knocked against his shoulder pauldron. Cody sighed again as his gloved hand enclosed around the item and stood back up, while activating the private comm channel he had with Obi-Wan. “I believe you are missing something,” he sighed.

There was an evident pause and then a sheepish, “ah. Yes, I do believe I have misplaced something.”

“That something, being your life?” snarked Cody, attaching the lightsaber hilt to his own belt, he then gave the order for Ghost company to start moving out again. “How many times cyare? Am I going to have to tie your lightsaber to your hand?” he added pointedly. This was not helping his stress levels, his cyare’s primary (only weapon), was consistently ending up in Cody’s possession and Obi-Wan detested using ‘uncivilised’ blasters, leaving him unprotected.

“I am sorry,” grumbled Obi-Wan.

Cody retorted, “try better.”

Obi-Wan sucked in a breath to answer back, but was interrupted because apparently Cody served with nosey busybodies who had apparently learnt to hack his private comm channel. “Mother and father are fighting!”

“Boil!” snapped Cody, because it could be no one else saying that.

“Hey! I’m just looking out for my poor vod’ike. Wooley will be upset if you and dad divorce,” sassed Boil.

Cody just sighed and as he was about to reprimand Boil for hacking his comm channel, he heard titters of laughter letting him know the entirety of Ghost company were listening. Obi-Wan just had to join in. “Why am I the father in this Boil?”

“Because Cody is always trying to keep you alive and gives off mama loth-wolf tendencies towards you and us,” Boil commented innocently.

Cody eyed up the rocky sides of the ravine and just pictured knocking his own head against the rocks and slipping into sweet unconsciousness and escaping the insanity. Unfortunately, he had to get Ghost company back to the remainder of the 212th. Shame.

3)

It was beginning to get ridiculous now. Not only had Cody lost count of the number of times he had ended up with Obi-Wan’s lightsaber in his possession, but his cyare was also dramatically throwing his outer robe off and just leaving it strewn on the floor. The first time Cody had found a brown Jedi robe fluttering along the ground in the breeze, he had picked it up to return to his General only to discover Obi-Wan had already put on a different robe. So, Cody just started to leave the robes he picked up in a box in the main storage cupboard on the Negotiator for anyone who wanted a robe as an extra blanket. He wasn’t sure if Obi-Wan knew about it, but considering how many spare robes his cyare seemed to pick up when they were on Coruscant (as he never ran out of robes), Cody wasn’t sure.

So, it was not surprising in the midst of a battle. When General Grievous made his bi-monthly drop-in/actually a gate-crash of a battle he had no reason to be involved in, a part from the single aim of driving Cody’s blood pressure sky high when Obi-Wan would inevitably torment Grievous with his witty comebacks and nearly get killed in retaliation for Grievous not having a sense of humour and taking offense. Obi-Wan spotted his favourite foe to torment, a foe the men had started to call The Runaway General. Named after the romantic comedy film the 212th had illegally watched on the holonet called the Runaway bride. The men had watched the first ten minutes of the film and all decided the bride who always ran away from her weddings reminded them of Grievous. So, now Cody was unable to ever watch that film again as his brothers had thoroughly spoiled it for him. He had tried to watch it again once, but instead all he could imagine was Grievous running away in one of the lace sleeved, A-line dresses the bride wore, veil included. A truly nightmarish image to be stuck in one’s head.

Anyway, The Runaway General made his usual wheezing entrance, if it was anyone else Cody would suggest they should see a medic for that ear grating, hacking cough. But Grievous could go and suck on a bucket of sour sweets for all Cody cared. Obi-Wan’s ocean blue gaze locked in on his favourite foe and Cody just felt the urge to cry, because Obi-Wan had that look in his eyes, the look that meant he was going to enjoy tormenting the ever-living kark out of Grievous and Cody was going to have to try and not have a heart attack. You know, situation normal.

Obi-Wan dramatically threw his outer robe off his shoulders, causing the brown material to swish majestically in the slight breeze, billowing out into an arch above the Jedi’s head and then delicately flittering down to the floor. The Jedi then charged forward, his blue lightsaber held aloft, towards Grievous, a sarcastic quip already on the tip of his tongue.

Cody just sighed.

Then over the comms he heard:

“Ooooh, solid effort that one. Best I’ve seen. I’d say a definite 10/10.”

“I have to agree with you Wooley. That was probably the best robe drop I’ve seen the General do.”

“What is wrong with you Wooley and Waxer? You have clearly forgotten the robe drop on Atollon. That was a far better robe drop. If this one is a 10/10, Atollon has to be a 12/10 at least.”

“That is a very good point Boil. Atollon was just chef’s kiss.”

Cody gritted his teeth and growled. “Focus on what you are supposed to be doing. And stop blocking the battalion comms!”

“Oops. Sorry Commander!” called out Wooley, his tone apologetic. Wooley had clearly been spending too much time with Waxer and Boil.

“Thanks for listening to today’s Dramatic Jedi Robe Drop Scoring. Tune in again when either The Runaway General, Never Had A Bad Hair Day, Kenobi’s Evil Grandfather or Obsessive Hate for Kenobi Kept Me Alive turn up to try and kill our General. See you then folks!”

“Waxer!” shouted Cody, scanning the battlefield for the Lieutenant. Fortunately for Waxer he wasn’t in Cody’s eyeline. Cody just sighed again. It was one of those days.

An hour later, when Grievous had done his usual running away technique, Cody waited by the gunships with Obi-Wan’s robe draped over one arm and his cyare’s lightsaber held in his other hand. Cody also had his helmet clipped to his belt, so he was able to give his cyare an unimpressed looked, raised eyebrow included. Which, when Obi-Wan made his appearance, his cyare directed a sheepish look at Cody.

Once Obi-Wan came to a stop in front of Cody, he took his lightsaber and clipped it onto his own belt and put on his robe. “Ah, thank you cyare,” Obi-Wan said, with a bright smile on his face.

Cody rolled his eyes. “Must we do this during every battle?”

Obi-Wan plastered an innocent look on his face, knowing full well Cody was going to mock him with ‘this lightsaber is your life’ lecture. So, instead Obi-Wan shrugged and said. “This really is a compliment, Cody.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Cody just shook his head. “Suuureee, it is.”

4)

Yet another battle the 212th had been sent to, another battle where they were fighting against impossible numbers. However, the 212th were holding their ground and Cody felt victory would soon be in their grasp. Obi-Wan had even manged to hold onto his lightsaber, miracles of miracles. Cody had also heard on the comms, that Obi-Wan had dropped his robe to go against some tanks and apparently this robe drop scored a 7/10.

But then a loud explosion ripped through the air, Cody turned, his cyare was stopping the tanks not to far away and sure enough the explosions were coming from the tanks. Then Cody frowned, there was a silver item spinning through the air as it headed straight for Cody.

Seeing the sunlight glint off the item, Cody changed his HUD settings and sighed, “not again.” He had apparently spoken too soon. Flying through the air was his cyare’s lightsaber.

As the lightsaber got closer, Cody lifted up his hand and caught the lightsaber and immediately clipped it to his belt.

“Ooooh. Nice catch Commander!” yelled Waxer over the comms.

“A definite 10/10!” added Wooley, with awe in his voice.

“We should really start adding the Commander’s lightsaber catches to our scoring commentary,” stated Boil.

Cody just sighed, apparently his sigh could be heard over the comms because a voice suddenly rang out over the comms. “That wasn’t my fault, Cody!” Obi-Wan burst out in self-defence, his voice cracking slightly on Cody’s name.

“Somehow, I’m not entirely convinced,” Cody retorted dryly. He ignored the titters of laughter over the comms and smirked to himself.

+ 1)

The 212th had been sent to an Outer-Rim planet, for Obi-Wan to try and negotiate peace between to warring tribes on the planet. It was a nice change for Cody and his brothers, the tribespeople, of both tribes, were very friendly towards them. Nicer than many citizens on Coruscant, which said a lot to the men in the 212th. Obi-Wan was needed for his negotiating skills and it gave Cody the opportunity to see his cyare as the peaceful Jedi he should be, not the General he was.

Cody couldn’t go into the hastily contrasted hut, built on neutral ground by both tribespeople as a sign of wanting to end the hostilities. Obi-Wan had to go in alone with the Councils of both tribes. Cody didn’t mind, he didn’t get hostile vibes from the tribes and it meant he could watch as his brothers ran around and played with the children of both tribes. A sight that he could see soften the most hardened warriors of each tribe, leading to the female and male warriors to intermix with the opposing tribe. The Council members saw this and Cody noticed the tension in their shoulders fade away, he turned, feeling someone come and stand beside him.

“I believe my job has just been made easier,” Obi-Wan stated with a bright smile on his face. The Jedi held one of Cody’s hands, and smiling to himself, Cody squeezed his cyare’s hand in response.

“Amazing what children can accomplish,” replied Cody, watching as Waxer, Wooley, Boil, Longshot, Gearshift, Trapper, Meteor, Blackeye and Flycatcher began a game of chase with a hoard of children.

“And your brothers,” Obi-Wan admonished lightly. Cody felt his heart swell with love, knowing how deeply Obi-Wan cared about his brothers, made it even easier to fall in love with the Jedi.

“As I said. Children,” retorted Cody, humour plain in his voice.

Obi-Wan shook his head as he chuckled to himself. Hearing the Council members state they were ready for the negotiations to begin, Cody squeezed Obi-Wan’s hand again, and then let his cyare’s hand go. Obi-Wan turned to face him fully and gently pressed their lips together, before either one of them could be tempted to deepen the kiss, Obi-Wan pulled away. He then placed something in Cody’s hand. In confusion Cody lifted his hand up to find himself holding Obi-Wan’s lightsaber. “I can’t take weapons in with me to the negotiations as is custom, so I leave my life in your trusty hands,” stated Obi-Wan.

Cody felt his throat tighten with emotion and he nodded as he swallowed heavily. “Always.” With one more smile and kiss, Obi-Wan was walking away and towards the waiting Council members. Cody smiled to himself as he looked down at the lightsaber in his hand, he clipped it to his belt and taking a leaf out of his brothers’ book. He ran to join in the game of chase, the delighted squeals and laughter of the children and his brothers filling his heart up with joy.

End note:

My mum was watching the film Runaway Bride and I couldn’t resist writing Grievous in a wedding dress, I wish I could draw this image (Cody is probably glad I can’t) but I can’t even draw decent stick people. So I hope my descriptions of Grievous in a wedding dress make it seem funny, I was giggling to myself as I wrote it.

Trying to come up with nicknames the 212th would have made for Ventress, Dooku and Maul was actually harder than I thought it would be 😂

[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter Five - Consolation

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

WARNINGS: Mentions of murder, grief, the aftermath of that death...all that Jazz! Plus a lil moment I’ve been fucking itching to include.

Chibs's breath was stuck in the middle of his throat, jutting thickly the more he thought about Opie cradling Donna's sallow cheeks as she bled out onto the gravel.

It'd cut deep, this one.

So many bodies he had bared witness to over the years. So many lives lost and souls snatched and whatever else right before his undaunted eyes--but nothing really hurt as much as that.

Because he knew what it was like. How it maimed a man. How it felt like his world was hurtling toward the chasms of hell during the moments after arriving at the scene and seeing his wife there. Dead.

Cold and dead and lonely. And completely gone.

Guilt resided, too. It was true tangible remorse for the simple proficiency of; that should've been me.

It happened with Diane--it happened to Chibs's wife, the mother of his kid, and the one true light in his life right after Isla. And it should've been him.

It was brutal, the way it happened tonight. It was fierce and heartless and Chibs knew in a flash that those bullets struck the wrong skull.

He couldn't bear the reverberation anymore, the gutturals from Piney's son who'd just lost his wife for no good reason during a drive-by in their quaint little town. The town that'd swelled wickedly with corruption these last few weeks.

Stahl was at the scene before he left. Looking pensive, actually. She looked guilty.

Chibs's basic instinct had landed the blame at her door--put the blood on her hands--but he kept his mouth shut for fear of what'd happen next. He didn't think that SAMCRO could handle this.

Because this wasn't a product of Mayan or Niner rivalry. He wasn't stupid--he knew that his President had something to do with this.

This was cultivated from the seeds sown by June Stahl, the pips planted so very deeply into the mind of Clay Morrow which forced him to believe that Opie Winston was a rat.

And he wasn't. He'd never sell his club out--no matter the damage, the pain inflicted upon him--and he'd never dream of pinning the fault on his brothers.

But he had to look a little bit closer to home if he wanted those answers. If he wanted to know just who sniped Donna--a completely innocent woman caught in the most ferocious of crossfires--he had to turn to someone that he knew was culpable of such activity.

Chibs's heart ached. It impaired him so very deeply that the only thing he could visualize on the ride back to Jax's house was her face.

Her face that dripped blood. Saturated crimson plagued his thoughts and forced his stomach to churn vociferously. He felt sick now.

He felt sick because Opie had lost his wife, Piney had lost a crucial member of his small family, and her kids had lost their mother. The woman that had worked so tirelessly to provide a life for them, to love and care for them unconditionally no matter what.

Opie was strong, he knew that--but he didn't know if he was strong enough to handle this. This crippling weight, this hurt and the idea of what could've been done differently.

Because so much could've happened to prevent this.

His tongue had become inoculated with bile, acrimonious ire for whoever the fuck was to blame for such unnecessary brutality--and, really, Chibs knew that he didn't have to look much further than Isla's favorite blue-eyed heathen this time.

And that broke his heart because of the pedestal she held that man upon. The pedestal she'd always held him atop, so fucking highly, too.

She knew that he was bad--an inherently bad human being--but he was just Tig. Her buddy. Clay's right hand that, really, he'd always count on. No matter what. And he'd always deliver the king's request, too.

Tig was the one that Isla called when her car broke down on the freeway and she needed to get home in time for Gemma's dinner.

The one she turned to for cheering up because he always knew how to crack a smile and get through to her.

The one that she strangely respected the most. Nobody really recognized what it was about that man that had Isla overjoyed when in his presence, she just was. And that was part of his charm.

But her father was anxious, now. Worried that she would take this news--if it came to light--badly. Because it was going to break her heart, regardless.

It was how she would handle it, which was the true hardship.

"Christ." Chibs's voice struggled to materialize, gesturing to his daughter passed out on Jax's couch. "How long's she been sleepin'?"

Mascara and eyeliner and whatever the fuck else she'd painted onto her face had started to melt away, trails of black and grey faintly running her cheeks.

"'Bout an hour." Gemma responded, sniffling back the putrid emotion she'd so obviously let flood the moments leading up to their arrival.

Jax's stomach was doing backflips at the thought of Isla crying herself to sleep in his living room--after everything that he'd put her through, too.

He feared that this was going to be the tip of the iceberg. That this was going to pulverize her sanity and compromise everything she had sought to fight off these last few days.

And he couldn't help but harbor those same suspicions as her father, either. Jax wanted to keep his mouth shut until he was certain that this was an inside job, but he was teetering toward that conclusion regardless.

It was the only viable explanation.

He, too, worried about what this would do to her. That finding out Tig was the potential culprit and reason why Opie's children were officially motherless.

"How's Ope?" She continued, already knowing the answer but asking anyway. Jax's head shook. "Oh."

"Not good, ma. But he's home now."

"And you're sure of that?"

"Yeah--I followed him back to make sure he got there in one piece. He wanted to leave the second the fuckin' ATF stormed in."

"Oh." Gem repeated herself, running her fingers through Isla's hair as she rested in her lap. "What about Clay? Where'd he get to?"

Chibs took a seat at one of the wooden chairs that'd been positioned around the coffee table, and Jax sank into the couch opposite the girls.

It was pitiful. Darkness enveloped them as Isla slept, innocently resting as the world shattered around her.

She wasn't oblivious to the happenings. She hadn't slept through it all, but she was done. Isla had been distant for days, had been fretting over the unimaginable and Gemma was worried that she was going to make herself sick if she continued the way that she was.

So she twisted her fingers and nails through the flowing waves of golden blonde, and soothed her the same way that she always did.

The same way that she found comfort as a kid.

He sighed. Exhausted. "Dunno. Last I saw he was with Tig."

"Aye." The Scot agreed with a nod, too. Hating the thought of Trager being responsible for something like this.

But it was merely a suspicion that Chibs hoped and prayed would get debunked sooner or later.

"Did he say anything?"

"Nah. He talked a little to Unser--seems to think it was a hit on Ope gone wrong--so, I guess they're gonna be lookin' into the Niners."

"Aye." Chibs spoke again, gesturing to Isla. "Did she say much when we left?"

"Not really--she just busied herself and cleaned up with Wendy. Seems like they're getting along now."

Jax smiled a bit, happy that his best friend and the mother of his child were starting to accept the presence of one another in Abel's life.

Truly, that's all he really wanted. That and his mother finally being able to turn the other cheek, and quit castigating his kid's mom.

"Did Clay leave before you?" Gemma asked, antsy. She was itching to get home, itching to see and comfort her husband because she knew that he was going to be fretting over this.

"I told you, the last I saw, he was with Tig. Dunno if he left after us, or if he's still there."

She looked away, smoothing her thumb over Isla's cheek.

"He'll be home soon--I should take off."

"Not on your own." Jax upheld, simply terrified of what could've happened to his mother had she left alone.

As far as Jax wanted her to know, this was bad blood between clubs. This was a hit put out on an innocent bystander because they knew it'd jolt SAMCRO--and it did.

It shook them to the very fucking core, jutting them repeatedly--mere moments away from crumbling and completely disintegrating into Harley Davidson dust.

And he really didn't want to admit that this was the work of his step-father and Alexander Trager. But he feared that was the only viable explanation.

"I'll--eh--I'll take her back." Chibs offered, getting up to ghost a hand over Isla's blushed cheek. "I was gonna take her home with me tonight, but I think she's better off stayin' put."

Jax agreed with a nod, smiling weakly at his mother. Though, she knew it was a coverup. A not-so-brilliant facade and attempt at showing that he was okay during this barbarous time.

"I don't wanna wake her." She mused, pushing strands of hair from her face. "She looks so damn peaceful."

Gemma hadn't a cozy moment with Isla for a while--not since she was recovering from a broken heart four summers ago.

The last time that she turned to Gemma--the same way she would as a child--for that motherly comfort.

"I know." The older man crouched to the ground, tracing faintly along her arm. Isla grumbled, slowly rousing. "C'mon petal, it's gettin' late."

He kept a hand against her, running this thumb over the freckled skin softly. Diane's crucifix caught his eye as she shifted, impairing him that little bit more tonight.

"What time is it?" She asked roughly, feeling a sting in her throat. Isla lifted herself off of Gemma's lap, rubbing at her eyes. "Is it late?"

"It's about one o'clock."

"Shit." Her hiss was sharp, galled that she'd been allowed to rest for so long whilst there was a literal wildfire sweeping its way through the club. "Ope--oh my god--Opie. Is he okay?"

Isla knew the answer. She knew what Jax was about to say before he even opened his mouth, and so tears ensued. Crystalline hues weeped and watered, and he was unsettled.

Unsettled because she was so strong in the face of such tragedy, rarely shedding any tears before an audience.

Unsettled because, up until the Kohn incident, Jax hadn't seen her cry since she was shot in the knee after three Mayans decidedly stormed the T M lot and strived to gun down each and every person on the premises.

He never forgave himself for that, actually. Because those bullets--though completely un-fatal and leaving a simple mark that, really, Isla referred to as her battle scars--should've been for him.

"He went home. To be with the kids." Jax cleared his throat, kneeling in front of her when Chibs got to his feet and gestured for Gemma. "He's--uh--he's in a bad way."

"Understandably." She mumbled. "Any ideas on who did this?"

Your favorite son.

"No. Clay thinks it might've been the Niners--shits been off since they decided to pull their fucking guns on us after the warehouse was raided."

"That was their rationale?"

"I guess so." He added. "It'd make sense. We lost their guns, so we lost a life--"

"But Donna." Isla argued, sitting upright. "Donna was innocent."

"We know that, love, but Laroy was probably under the impression that Ope was the one behind the wheel." Her father spoke over Jax, heeding his uncertainty. "It wasn't meant to be her."

Chibs had to blow his theory out of the water, firstly.

"A life is a life. To them, so long as they've got one of ours--someone close to us--they've succeeded with somethin'--"

"All they've succeeded with is leaving two kids without a fucking mother." Isla spat, throwing away the small blanket that Gemma had draped over her as she stood up. "And you've gotta stop being so fucking insensitive."

Jax stumbled backwards, watching her storm out of the room in her pretty little summer dress. He couldn't surmise whether following behind or leaving the woman to simmer alone, was the best idea.

It was a touchy subject, the loss of a parent. It was prickly and raw and it never ceased to strike Isla's heart. Because she understood.

She understood how much it hurt. The uncertainty of it all. Not knowing what to do next. How life changes more than what anyone ever prepares you for and, really, how nothing is ever the same again.

Isla knew it all too well. She'd been there, done that, and refused to go back. But with Chibs's life, his line of work, she was never granted that security.

And it wasn't particularly the security that she wanted, more so the knowledge of what--god forbid anything--would happen to her father. Because that's what bothered her the most about Diane.

She never knew anything about her mother's passing.

Jax got a pretty tight grip on the concept, too. But it was different with Isla--it was something she never quite grasped.

"A life is a life," Gemma mocked the insensitivity from the baffled Scotsman, shaking her head. "That wasn't just any life, Chibs. That was Opie's woman, the mother of his children, and one of Isla's oldest friends--she was family. She wasn't just a life."

His lips twitched before he exhaled sharply, knowing that she was right.

Knowing that his response was much too unsympathetic and heartless and, really, he was an idiot to forget how upset she got whenever something that pertained to the death of her mother was brought up.

"Your kid is grieving. She's grieving for Ope, for Piney, for Kenny and Ellie--for herself because this--" she gestured to nothing in particular, but he understood, "--is something she knows all too well, ain't it? Diane?"

"I know." Tersely, he responded. He pulled a hand through his hair. "I fuckin' know how she feels, but I didn't think she'd storm out when I said it!"

"Well, she's always been unpredictable."

"I know." His riposte was braided with anger, pure fury.

"Then why'd you say it?" Gemma jabbed. "Isla has been about six thousand miles away from us these last few days, and you thought that saying such a stupid thing wouldn't tip her over the edge?"

She was defensive of the blonde--always had been.

And Jax was sick of it.

Sick of the back-and-forth between the two. Sick of that holier than thou bullshit from Gemma--pretending that she wasn't thinking the same fucking thing--and sick of the way Chibs cared more to argue than to go after his daughter.

"Make sure Wendy stays if you two leave--I'm going."

"Where?" Chibs demanded.

But Jax just glared at him, stuffed his hands in both pockets, and walked straight out of the house.

It was cooler, now. The breeze had hit him square in the face the second he stepped over the threshold, and it was nice. To feel a little breeze that'd inevitably take the edge off of the lament sizzling away inside of him, was nice.

It was short lived, though. The second he realized that he couldn't see Isla--that she was completely out of sight--dragged him straight back down to earth, and the panic had set in.

He trusted her, of course he knew that she wasn't going to do anything stupid because she valued her life too much, and she wanted to do great things. So many great things.

But Jax also knew her too well. Well enough to know that the first place she would've thought about storming toward was the Clubhouse--the place that she'd find Tig.

And under any other circumstances, he wouldn't have rushed to get to her before she had a chance to get to T M. But the possibility of walking in and discerning Trager's inconsolable fury--his resentment and self-loathing--was much too great a risk for Jax to take.

He had to intercept.

He had to save her before she got the chance to set foot onto the property.

But, realistically, Jax was more than aware that Isla was probably already halfway there by now, and weaving through the unusual bustle of traffic in his small town just wasn't worth it.

"Shit." He growled, hopping onto his bike regardless. Saving a sliver of hope that he'd find her tonight.

He wasn't exactly optimistic, though. Because she'd already stormed four blocks.

Isla wrapped her cardigan tightly around her body--feeling the cold a bit more than what Jax had earlier--and hastily made her way downtown.

Surprisingly enough, she didn't fear the short walk toward the garage, but it was chilling. The thought of Donna's killer roaming freely, parading around that neighborhood, was daunting.

But she wasn't scared.

Or, at least, Isla wasn't scared until she heeded the red and blue flashing lights right in the middle of the intersection. The apparent murder scene.

Her heart sank, actually. The organ dropped to her stomach, pulsating slowly--barely--at the sight of Charming PD, CSI, and her. The group scattered, conversing, and speculating.

It was horrible. Sick.

She'd seen this before. She'd seen deaths and murders, and whatever came during the moments following. But she hasn't felt this way before.

The incapacitating throb. The discomfort and grief for such a horrendous--albeit freak--accident. And she wasn't stupid. She was as cognizant as her father and as empathetic as Jax, and she knew just as well as those two that this was not a purposeful attack.

Whether it was a consequence of Mayan or Niner misconduct, it was a wrongful onslaught that was about to cull an entire family. An entire charter.

If it hadn't already, that was.

She choked around the swell in her throat, padding along the sidewalk. She took her time, but she wasn't slow by any means. She had a place to be, and a specific person that she had to see--to talk to because she didn't know how to cope with this.

And it wasn't exactly her place to mourn for Donna. She hadn't been involved with her for some five years and she felt bad about the pair unable to rekindle their friendship. She felt bad about grieving the loss of Opie's wife--about taking the focus away from him.

But it hurt. It hurt so much--it sliced deeply, through flesh and tendon and bone--and she knew that Tig wouldn't judge her for this inveterate sorrow. He wouldn't see her as selfish or stupid for wanting to project her sincerities, her emotions.

Her heels clicked across the yard and she smiled a little bit when she passed Juice and Tig's bikes beside one another, letting her know that she wasn't going to be alone in there.

She was scared now, though. Because she hadn't talked about this yet. Hadn't talked about how she felt and how she was going to approach Opie the next time she saw him.

"Juice?" Isla squeaked from the doorway, waiting for him to turn around and run to her, or something. But he didn't move, didn't lift his head.

It was dreary inside. The lights had been dimmed, the men surrounding the tables and bar were downtrodden, and Isla felt as though she'd just walked through the gates of hell.

The vibrancy and boisterous nature of SAMCRO had come to a complete standstill, and she was actually yearning for the sleaze that usually enveloped the space.

Her sigh was defeated, forlorn. She sniffed as her nose ran, making her way to the bathroom to go and clean herself up--because she knew that she looked dreadful, and didn't want anybody to really see her that way.

"Is anyone in here?" She asked softly against the locked door, knowing that the answer was yes and that Tig was the occupant--but she persisted, anyway.

The mellifluous rhythm bled through the oak, jolting him still as blood poured from the gash in his head, and shattered glass surrounded his frame and the sink.

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, glaring monotonously at himself in front of the mirror. Glaring at the fucking monster that was about to welcome Isla into open arms, comforting her because he knew that she'd need it.

"Yeah," He opened up, smiling down at her. "But I'm done, if you wanna--"

"What happened to you?" She put a hand against his chest, pushing him back into the room. Her brow furrowed when he didn't respond. "Tiggy?"

His entire body winced at Isla's soft touch. At the way her pink nails traced over the patch of skin on his chest, uncovered by his shirt--the shirt he was going to burn after tonight.

She gently gripped at his chin, turning his face to the right to get a better look at the incision on his left. Her eyes filled again, lips turned downward.

"Let me clean you up."

"You don't gotta--"

"I do." Isla cut him off, blinking away her tears. "If it doesn't get treated, it might get infected."

Like father, like daughter--always the first person to tend to an injury. She was so loving, so benevolent. Nothing like him, he thought.

Tig watched her maneuver around the tiny bathroom, admiring her desire to patch him up. To care for him and help make him feel better.

Not much would've helped at that moment, but she was trying her best.

"How'd you get over here?" He asked, leaning against the sink.

"I walked--"

"You walked?" Pissed, Tig spat. "Jesus fuck, Isla, you can't walk these parts alone, anymore."

She looked up at him from the spot she was crouched at, sifting through a small first-aid kit in the cabinet. "Who said I was alone?"

"Were you?" His eyes narrowed. She got to her feet, putting the small plastic box beside him, looking his face over a few times.

Her head shook. "Nope. Never alone with these thoughts."

Tig couldn't not chuckle at her response, but he was still worried about her. He didn't worry often--he was too selfish for that--but anything to do with his favorite blonde saw him panic like a madman.

"And the voices, too." She mused, breaking out into a genuine smile the first time all evening. "They always keep me real good company."

"Yeah?" Isla's head bobbed, cupping his chin again. "Me too--me 'n you don't seem to be too different after all, baby."

"Never said that we weren't." She poked her tongue out a little bit, surveying the damage. "Never said that we were the same, either."

"We're not the same." He confirmed, curling his hand around her wrist as she held an alcohol pad above his cut. "We are not the same, Isla."

Her head tilted, trying to discern what he meant. But she couldn't, and it caused an uncomfortable shiver to flicker down her spine.

"This might hurt." She whispered in an attempt to dissipate the small tension, gently running her thumb over his chin.

The other was--alongside her pointer finger--tapping the small antiseptic against the wound. She frowned the more he winced, though Tig's smile and hold on her wrist was still present.

"I like the pain."

"I know you do, Tiger." Isla joked. But she couldn't help wondering how the fuck he managed to do this to himself tonight.

Why he would do this to himself tonight.

"I don't wanna have to stitch your pretty face up," she pursed her lips and got him to hold the cotton in place.

"You think I got a pretty face?"

"The prettiest." Her retort was instantaneous, missing that usual glint of something resembling a joke.

She was serious--she wasn't engaging in that usual banter with him today. She was too run down for it, actually.

"Gonna have to give you a couple of butterfly stitches, if that's okay?" Isla looked up at him, holding out the small bandages with a smile. "It won't hurt. And they'll probably dissolve in, like, a week or so."

"Go for it. I love when you play nurse."

She lightly whacked at his chest, laughing as she got him to sit on the closed toilet lid to get a better reach. He wasn't tall, but neither was she. Isla needed him to lower his height if she wanted to successfully repair him.

The comfort, the aid and assistance had him forgetting about tonight--had her forgetting the real reason for her impromptu arrival to the clubhouse--but not forgetting about the newfound misery that encircled SAMCRO.

"You alright?" He asked when she hadn't made a movement, when her eyes seemed to focus on the shelves above the tank of the toilet. "I can do it myself, if you don't wanna--"

"I wanna." The smile she produced was fake--uncomfortable as tears rolled down perfectly blushed cheeks.

It broke his heart. Everything she was doing and saying--and even feeling because her pain was palpable--was breaking his heart and Tig felt like hell for doing this.

"I'm sorry," she stuck the first stitch to his forehead carefully, getting him to rip off the back of the second because her fingers were too shaky to get a solid grip.

"Don't be." He handed it to her. "It's been a tough night."

Her laugh was humorless, dull. "You can say that again, Tiggy."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really." She sent him an apologetic look, but he got it.

Isla trusted him with her life--for some reason--but she found it hard to open up sometimes. In regards to something this serious, she struggled to get a solid handle on her emotions and how to express them.

He understood her, though. Understood her well enough, her mannerisms and thought processes, and he just wondered if she felt like divulging her pain tonight.

She didn't, though. And Tig didn't particularly mind that. He didn't want to feel that twisted pang of regret, the vehement churn of his stomach whenever she said Donna's name--which she was yet to do, and she probably wouldn't at this point, either.

"I just wanna cry." She stated plainly, not even reluctantly anymore.

Like Gemma, he hadn't seen her cry for a long time. And it wasn't a nice visual, actually.

But he was supportive, and just wanted her to do anything that'd make her feel somewhat better--so he encouraged it.

Isla put everything down, gave his face the once over for the last time, and set herself on the tile with her back to the door.

"You wanna cry? Do it, baby. If it'll help, just do it." He assured, getting to the ground beside her. "I know you don't like doin' it in front of me, but I won't tell anyone, if that's what you want."

"You make me seem like a battle ax." Isla quipped, sniffling. "I don't care if anyone sees me cry--everyone knows that I do. It's just..."

"Showing vulnerability ain't a nice thought. I know."

God. She hated how well he understood her. How he knew what she was going to fucking say. All the time.

Tig wound an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Instinctively, she rested her head against his shoulder.

"I get it." He stated mindlessly, pushing tousled blonde strands from her forehead. "But y'know you can always trust me, kid. I'll never tell anyone that you feel emotions--"

"I'm literally the most emotional person you all know." Isla protested weakly, hoping he didn't mind the feeling of her tears bleeding through his shirt.

He didn't.

"I just don't really like crying. It's not a true testament to my character--I'm supposed to be the happy one around these parts. The sickeningly optimistic Irish girl--"

"You can still be a crier, too."

"I know." She finally wrapped her arms around his middle as they sat together. "But people just don't take girls seriously when they cry. And I don't want my position here to be compromised, I guess. I don't want my dad, or Gemma, or Clay to think I can't handle being around the club anymore--because I can. And I always will."

"They wouldn't think different of you for that." He promised, rubbing circles over her shoulder the more he felt the navy cotton dampen. "This is a real tough thing, Isla, nobody is gonna chastise you for shedding a tear. They'd probably think different of you if you didn't cry."

"You think?"

He nodded.

"Crying shows that you got empathy and a heart. We all know your heart is bigger than..." Thick eyebrows crumpled together before he let out a little chuckle. "Bigger than Clay's ego. It's huge, your heart."

"Well, it's gotta be. If I wanna love all of you--warts 'n all--my heart has gotta be huge."

"Exactly," he drew out his response, earning a laugh and something reminiscent of an optimistic smile from her.

Trager never saw himself as the kind of man to make a girl smile or laugh after a little pep talk--after or before incredible sex, perhaps, but never as a result of his unusually comforting nature.

But he just had that effect on Isla--something she wasn't able to extrapolate verbally. Something she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to comprehend, either.

"You've just gotta try not to make yourself too vulnerable, that's all, 'cuz people will get used to coddling you. And I know that's now what you want."

"That's what I mean." She frowned, pulling herself away a bit. "I don't wanna be seen as inferior for being able to cry about the things that you, or Gem, or dad, are able to keep a poker face over. I'm just...I'm just thin-skinned sometimes, and I'm yet to be desensitized to this stuff, I guess."

"You're not thin-skinned for crying tonight." He scolded, knowing that she didn't want to elucidate her thoughts about the happening, but he just couldn't help himself.

"Desensitization don't mean shit when you've lost someone you care about--it's always gonna hurt, sweetheart. Always. And there ain't nothing you can do to stop that."

He was the one with misty eyes, now. He was the one trying to bite back tears, trying to conceal the spread of his sadness--the uncomfortable soreness in his chest. In his heart that wasn't anywhere near as big and full as hers.

"You're never gonna grow immune to grief--I promise you'll always feel that. Whether you show it--how you show it--is another thing, though."

"You feel it?"

"Tonight?"

"In general."

She couldn't seem to recall the last time that she saw him cry--if she'd ever seen it, actually. Aside from this moment, of course.

Tears fell to the apples of his cheeks and she, without any reluctance, used the pad of her thumb to brush them away.

And he got it, now. The idea of showing vulnerability being a fucking liability. Because the pity washing over her soft, beautiful features made him feel fragile.

"All the time. All the fuckin' time."

"It really never goes away?"

"No." Tig sniffed harshly, forcing a smile. "But you learn to cope. You learn that it ain't the end of the world and that life just goes on after death."

"Profound." She chuckled once again. "That's some deep, deep shit, Tigger. Almost made me forget about how much I wanna hysterically break down."

"Do it. That'll make me feel better about my injury."

"Your self-inflicted injury." Isla stated knowingly, but she didn't clarify just what she meant.

Because it could've been an array of things, but he liked to think that she was just referring to his little forehead aperture.

"I like it. It makes you look badass." Isla held a hand out to Tig when he pulled himself upward, and she wanted to follow suit.

"Does it make me look hot, too?"

"Absolutely." Again, it wasn't laced in a tease. It was honest, and the small smile she produced was sincere. "Be careful with it, though. Try not to get it wet or anything, because it'll dissolve too soon--"

"I've had them before, y'know?"

"Why is that so hard to believe?" Isla rolled her eyes. "You're a super scary, malicious, calculating guy when you've gotta be. But I know that you're accident prone."

He curled his eyebrow upward. "Scary?"

"Totally. I've seen you hold a gun to a guy's head." A chill impaired her, frightening her. "Shits terrifying, Tig. Remind me to never get on your bad side."

"You couldn't even if you tried."

"You think?" Her qualm was unexpected, almost challenging him as she unlocked the bathroom door and stepped into the hallway. "I think I could."

What's she playing at? She was sobbing two minutes ago.

Oh, I get it. This is her facade--actin' all care free, and shit.

Tig followed behind--every step--as she clicked along the wooden floor of the clubhouse.

"You couldn't. Trust me." He stated lowly, reaching for her hand when she stuttered a little.

Isla noticed her father next time Juice, drinking at the bar with their backs to the duo. She didn't want to see him, right now.

Talking to Chibs would've ignited whatever fucking fire inside of her that'd started to blaze out of control earlier tonight, and she'd worked hard to contain this inferno.

"What you can do, though, is turn your pretty little ass back around, and go get some rest in the dorm. It's been a long night."

She didn't refute, she didn't try to get out of it because she didn't want to. Isla couldn't bear the thought of waltzing past her father, talking to him about her tiny outburst, and resuming as normal.

Because she couldn't do that. Not tonight, anyway.

"Tig?"

"Uh huh." He responded, his eyes glued to the back of Juice's cut as he slammed yet another shot back.

Probably wondering what the fuck had gone down tonight.

"Can you stay with me?" Her retort forced his focus to land on her, and the defenselessness--sheer exposure--in her attitude.

It wasn't the simple fact of wanting to be alone.

She couldn't be alone. Not anymore.

Ringed fingers squeezed her hand reassuringly, guiding her into the back room, holding her close. Because that's what she really, truly wanted.

"'Course I can. Anything for you, Isla."

[subbing-for-clones]

She Who Walks the Line Between Part 2

Maul x GreyJedi!Reader

Word Count: 2729

WARNINGS: pain, mentions of injuries, starting of some light fluff.

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       You led the crimson and black Zabrack past your small crop field, where a large wooden table and a few stumps scattered around it sat. You placed the basket of clay to your side and took a seat, with an open hand motioned for him to settle across from you. He took your que and rested his legs down beneath him unable to sit comfortably on the wood. You folded your hands under your chin, elbows resting on the table and looked into his eyes. He fidgeted in place, uncomfortable by your unblinking gaze. He wouldn't meet your eye for longer than a few moments and stared at the Meiloorun trees that grew not far from where you two sat.

    Following his eyeline you stood and picked a few of the fruits, bringing them back to your half-starved guest and watched as he quickly ravished the purple fruits. While he was otherwise occupied you stood behind him and looked closer where his body ended and the jumbled mess of scrap began. Not just his legs but he was severed through his torso. You reached a hand out and lightly touched the lowest part of his back before the metal formed. He jumped back shocked at the touch and you raised your hands to show him you weren't going to hurt him.

"I can give you your body back rather easily however your mind is fragmented and scrambled. It will be a process but I'd like to restore you to your original form."

He had finished the fruit you offered him and stared at you in disbelief.

"That... that’s impossible." He sat wide eyed. "There's nothing to connect, my other half is... gone."

"I don't mean to reconnect you but to recreate you. That's what the clay is for." You motioned towards the basket.

"How?" He asked shocked staring at the clay and turning back to you with narrow eyes.

"In my distaste for cybernetic bodies I've learned how to regrow limbs and various body parts out of the clay found on this world. It has special properties in it. It will require much physical therapy but it can be done if you allow it."

He thought for a moment, as clearly as he could anyway and looked down at the mess of limbs beneath him. His eyes continued their narrowed stare at you.

"What do I have to do? What do you want from me?"

"Honestly?" You started with a cocked brow. "I just want some peace. That’s why I live here in solitude, the search for peace. But your suffering has reached my mind all the way out here. I figure since your existence hasn’t upset the balance for the entirety of your life, if I put you back together, get you cleaned up, back into decent shape and do something about this." You motioned to his mind. "Perhaps balance will be restored again and I can continue on with my life and my studies. In peace. All you have to do is let me."

    He thought on this longer. All he could vividly remember was his survival on Lotho Minor but the longer he was away from that hell hole, smaller, fainter memories had started coming back. He didn't think anyone had offered him a kindness like this before. Even if it was for your own personal gain, he benefitted greatly as well.

"Alright." He snarled quietly still quite weary of you as you dumped the clay onto the table and started molding it into the shape of legs and hips.

    Once you were satisfied with the basic shape and proportion you instructed him to let go of the energy he was using to keep the scrap under him together. You left for a moment to find a large robe for him. When you returned to your makeshift work station you found him lying on his back, torso touching the clay and staring up at the midday sky. Wispy clouds decorated the bright blue, it was hard on his eyes now accustomed to darkness so he was squinting against it. You frowned at his wince and force pulled an umbrella that sat on your porch over to you, setting it up so it shielded the light but not the view. He looked at you in bewilderment at this small unnecessary kindness to him. You placed the robe down on the stump to your side silently and held your hands one above his body and the other above the clay.

You looked to him for a final approval, "this is probably gonna hurt just so you know." You warned.

He dug his claws into the wood table bracing himself and gave you a final nod.

    He wasn't prepared for what came next. You had closed your eyes and placed one of your hands on his chest, the other on the clay. Your cool touch cut through him like a knife and his hearts started racing. He couldn't remember ever being touched in a way that didn’t draw blood. His hearts pounded against your hand. You moved your hand down, tracing his body lightly until he no longer felt your touch. He fell into the bliss of contact when your hands left the clay and returned to his body. You were running your hands across his body, down to the clay and back up again, envisioning him whole. Urging the force to make him one again. You projected feeling of calm, peace and gentleness through the force unto him as you worked.

    His chest vibrated against his will, creating a purr that rumbled quietly every time you traced him but the purr turned to a growl that turned into screaming as his body seared. It felt like a fire burned violently where he had been severed and the flames licked at the rest of his skin. He left deep rivets in the wood beneath him in an attempt to hold still despite his instincts to run, he endured. As suddenly as the pain came, it left. He felt a breeze on his feet. He opened his eyes to find your back turned to him while holding out the grey robe. He didn't realize why you were turned away until he looked down. It wasn't a hallucination, he had feet, he had two legs that bore the same markings that he suddenly remembered he had. He was once again intact, including to his almost surprise he had his manhood back. He took the robe and quickly covered himself suddenly hyperaware that he lay naked in front of a woman.

"Are you decent?" You asked. You had averted your gaze so he could retain some semblance of dignity.

 "I am covered." Still distracted by the fact that it actually worked.

"Good." You replied turning around and studying your handiwork. His legs looked good; the tattoos lined up from what you could tell, lifting the robe slightly at his hips, keeping his groin covered. They were the same size same length and he wasn't in agony so the insides must be alright.

    You gripped his thighs which caused him to sit up quickly snarling at you. Without letting go, your eyes inches from his you practically whispered "I have to feel them to make sure your bone structure and joints are all in the right places. Let me know if you can't feel my touch at some point or if my touch hurts."

    His top lip curled in reluctance but he nodded. You firmly yet gently massaged his thighs moving up to his hips and down to his knees. You lifted each knee slightly making sure they bent the right way then continuing down his calves to his ankles. They rolled as they should. You spent a few minutes on each foot making sure all those little pieces were screwed in right so to speak. It took everything in his being to keep his eyes open.

"Could you feel me the whole time?"

"Yes." He whimpered slightly.

"Good. Now try to wiggle your toes. Yes, good just like that. Now bend your knees for me; wonderful. Lift your legs a little one at a time. Just try to get your heels a few inches off the table. Perfect. Can you spread and close your legs for me? Just a bit so I know those joints work well too. Magnificent." He grunted with effort but passed all your little tests.

You clapped your hands together. "Good! Wow, I've only ever done single limbs on wounded animals before, this was a job." His eyes widened in horror.

"You didn't know if this was going to work?!"

"Nope! First time for everything but hey it was a success so don't get yourself all worked up." Your hands were on your hips. "Now they won't be able to bear your full weight for a while so take it easy, I'll help you around but now..." you pulled out a large wood file. "I'm gonna take care of those claws and those horns. They are truly atrocious."

    The next three hours you spent carefully shaping his horns to a much more manageable length and rounding them just enough so they wouldn't slice on contact. His claws on the other hand now resembled human finger nails. He sat on the stump while you fussed over him while he ate a whole serving bowl of various fruits from your garden and dried meats. Every time you touched the base of one of his horns his eyes twitched in bliss and rolled to the back of his head.

     When you finished you set the file down and once again studied your craftsmanship. His face flushed with your eyes and mouth so close to him again, starting to realize now that his body was in one piece he had hormones to regulate. Satisfied with what you had done you handed him a makeshift crutch and wrapped your arm around his waist and his free arm over your shoulder.

    For the first time, you led him into your home slowly. He couldn't believe how good grass then carpet felt under his feet and he actually smiled. You made your way to the refresher where a large bath sat prefilled with hot water. You dropped a large sandalwood scented bath bomb into the waters. He watched mesmerized as it fizzled and placed a hand in the water out of curiosity. After verifying that the temperature was good you closed your eyes and helped him slide into the tub only opening when you could sense that he was submerged up to his chest.

“These wonderful little bath bombs have salts and oils that will help heal your smaller cuts and scrapes on the rest of your body as well as clean you.”

    You watched his eyes roll to the back of head and close, a low groan escaping his lips as he enjoyed the water and rubbed his legs together. You smiled at him; it truly did bring you joy to help this poor lost soul. Although he was still rather gaunt and his eyes still blown out with possible insanity, he had quite handsome features. You shook your head to drive the thought away from your mind and without a word you left the room, leaving him to soak in the steamy waters, not before calling over your shoulder, “I will be back with some clean clothes for you soon. Shout if you need anything.”

 ~~~~~

      The water on his skin was glorious. The heat on his body, the smell of the sandalwood and the steam he breathed overloaded his senses and put him in a state of euphoria. He reached up and felt his freshly groomed horns, enjoying the fact that he could touch them without cutting himself. He felt tears welling up in his eyes that he wouldn’t let fall at the thought of everything this woman had done to him, for him today. He had completely forgotten the fear he felt just this morning when he saw her for the first time. Her figure against the grasslands, strong and filled with a purposeful resolve that was also soothing. Eyes simply electric. Her hair, wild with the breeze. He felt something flutter in his stomach and he put the image of her out of his mind to stave it off.

    What did he do to deserve such kindness, such a sweet saving grace in his bleak existence? Nothing he was sure. As he relaxed, more of his memories came back to him as if he never forgot them. His fists clenched as he remembered how he got to this sorry state to begin with and a name rumbled out of his chapped lips almost silently. "Kenobi."

    Before he could fall into his rage, he heard a tapping on the door just before his savior reentered carrying black pants and a black tunic. A sweet and spicy smell wafted into the room and his mouth watered.

"I got a weird feeling when I passed these in the market on one of the populated planets I frequent on my last run so I bought them. Now I know why I got that feeling." His hearts pounded in his chest as she kneeled on the floor behind his head after setting them down on the counter. Using a glass, she scooped up water from the bath and ran it over the top of his head, following with massaging soap and scented oils into his scalp and around the base of his horns. Loosing himself completely he let out a moan. He couldn't see it but she smiled again behind him with a single raised brow.

 ~~~~~

      Once you had rinsed him off you closed your eyes once again and helped him out, allowing him to dry himself and dress while using you as a support until he gave you the all clear that you could open them again. Weary of his shaky legs you led him down a hallway, passing a few doors and back into the great room where a single couch sat facing an array of well stocked bookshelves. The only electronic in sight was a single radio on one of the shelves quietly playing lo-fi. A small table and chairs sat just beyond the couch in view of both the kitchen and the front door.

    After helping him take a seat you dished the two of you large bowls of the meat stew and a pitcher of water for the table. He ate and drank the broth down to the last drop before you had halfway finished. Getting up to serve him a second helping he stuttered "you don’t.. have to do that."

"Please." You retorted casually. "I will be stuffing you full until you're well again. You may have your legs back but you’re underweight for your species and size. You’ll need lots of calories to back to ‘fighting weight’." He ate much more slowly this time until he gathered the courage to speak again.

"I never asked you your name. I think... no, I know. I am called Maul." His eyes never left you as he waited for your reply.

"Well my name is Y/N. I am glad your ship landed here Maul."

"I am very thankful for that as well.. um.. Thank you. For everything."

    The two of you finished your meal in a comfortable silence. Humming occasionally at the savory and rich stew. He had asked to retire after dinner so you aided him to your spare bedroom. It was small only having a single sized bed, a night stand and yet another bookshelf properly filled with writings that he could reach from the bed if he wanted to. After rummaging around some drawers, you found a pair of com links and asked him to use it should he need anything to which he agreed. You placed a hand on his forehead absent mindedly, wishing him a good night before sauntering off. Sleep came slowly to the Zabrack, staring out the window to the field. He could just barely see the goats and a few chickens in the yard but it was you who filled his mental images before sleep finally took him long after the sun had set.

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love (Modern!Ivar x OC) Chapter 2

Well I meant to only write a one-shot but oops, I just kept going. 

This is Chapter 1 but from Ivar’s POV. We also get to see some family dynamics there and why he was acting towards Kari like he did. 

A huge thanks again to @saritanotserena​ for help with the moodboard. 

Words:4200

Warnings: swearing, mild sexual content

If you need to catch up, Chapter 1. 

Series Masterlist

"Fuck." The word dropped from his mouth with all the impact of a grenade. Somehow even just uttering the word solidified what he had just been told. 

 Running his tongue along his teeth, he huffed then slipped his phone into his back pocket. His brothers were not going to be happy. He glanced up at the moon as if hoping it would give him answers, but she was a fickle bitch and just shone down on him, surrounding him in shadows. Somewhere he had spent most of his life anyway, where he felt most comfortable now. Not forever though. He promised himself that. He would not spend forever in the shadows. 

 Turning around, he yanked the 'employee only' door open and slipped back into the raucous club. His thoughts tore relentlessly through his mind as he walked down the darkened corridor. It was easy to dismiss the blasting music, the bright lights, the drunken cheers from inside the club. It was all superficial, all irrelevant. His mind focused on the important things. At least what he deemed important for his intellectual mind. Tomorrow, he was leaving for a business trip to the Mediterranean and with the way things were playing out….it would certainly not be boring. He could already taste the blood on his tongue. A venomous smile hinted at the corners of his lips at the thought. 

 Walking down the crowded hallway, leading to the main floor of the club, people instantly jumped out of his way. If it was due to the scowl on his face or the knowledge of who he was, he did not care. They were all beneath him. A couple of the women tried to make eye contact, to slither closer in hopes of gaining his attention. He ignored them. They had better luck gaining favors from one of his brothers. He wondered if that was part of their draw to him, for how few women he allowed to entertain him. It mattered not. 

 A twinge in his leg caused him to step to the side of the hallway for a second and pause. The pain was mild, something he constantly endured. Pain- his ever-constant companion. Closer to him than his own family. This twinge told him he had spent far too long on his feet today, especially without his cane. He snarled at himself, at his own disability, his inadequacy. Before self-loathing could sink in, he pushed the feeling away. No more. He would rise above this, as he always did. There was no other choice. The gods bestowed this curse upon him, he would make sure they regretted it. 

 For once though, he wished the gods would bless him. 

 Just as he started to move forward, a blonde woman crashed into another woman that had been walking in his direct path but seemed not to notice due to her facing the ground. The blonde ran into the smaller brunette then continued onward without notice or care after righting herself. Unconsciously, his hand darted out to grab the arm of the brunette woman before she fell ungraciously at his feet. Normally, he was not so selfless. His typical response would be to taunt and laugh at the woman at his feet. Make some comment about how he had no need for her to worship at his feet. But as soon as he grabbed her, kept her upright, he wondered why she was different. Why his usually barbed words were silenced.

 Her hands fisted the front of his Armani shirt as if clinging to a sinking ship and hoping for salvation. He would have laughed at any other time for he was the furthest from salvation; but her head tipped up and he felt himself freeze. Her eyes widened meeting his and for a fleeting moment he wondered what she saw when looking at him. He peered down at her, the top of her head just under his chin. Her chocolate hair hung loosely behind her, reaching a couple inches past her shoulders. Pale, pink lips glistened under the lights, distracting him for a moment with the way they glistened. Dark eyeliner and a smoky color highlighted her blue-green eyes that reminded him of the sea, swirling and enchanting.  What surprised him most was the seemingly innocent look in those ocean eyes. Even her features seemed so girl-next-door and innocent that he wondered what someone like her was doing in a place like this. 

 His hand still held onto her. He needed to let go but found himself reluctant to. She was a mystery that he found himself wanting to unravel. He placed the words on his tongue to make a quip, to return to his comfortable aloof manner but not fast enough…

 For she rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. 

 A myriad of emotions flooded him at the sensation of her gentle kiss. So profound were the conflicting feelings, he stood as a statue, unmoved for concern of what his actions would tell. Though he had been kissed before, those were always alcohol or lust fueled, and even then only minimal for they represented a precursor to what he actually wanted. This felt like nothing he had ever experienced before, it was soft and gentle, like the touch of a butterfly's wing. Yet it also unleashed something in him desiring more. More of the softness she unwittingly offered, something his life was void of. Lastly though, it burned his soul because no one like her ever came to him willingly or because they wanted him. There was always a catch, always something they wanted. He was never good enough. He was never enough. 

 "Are you drunk?" He blurted out without caution or remorse. The lingering taint of tequila on her breath alerted him that she was not entirely sober. 

 "What?...no, I've had like two drinks but that's it...wait. Oh gods! Was my kiss that bad? Shit. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll just...sorry." She began blabbering, cheeks turning a lovely pink even through her sun-kissed skin. 

 He stared at her a long time, unsure what to do next. He prided himself on his ability to make decisions, to plan and see corners when others only saw a straight line. It was also not unknown his ability to predict how others would think and react, and he used that to his own advantage often. But with her, he was unsure. He knew it would be wisest to push her away, to return to his brothers and tell them the news that had him in a foul mood. Yet he found himself leaning towards the alternative, curious to see what she would do next, what her sweet kiss meant, to stare into her beguiling eyes more and taste those pretty, pink lips again. 

 "Come." He commanded, releasing her arm and taking a step to the side. 

 "Wha…. what?"

 He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing. "Come. I am not through with you." Here was the test. Here would decide how they both reacted. Mentally, he prepared himself for rejection and prepared a sharp barb on his tongue only for it to be silenced with her quiet, stuttered acceptance. 

 "Ohhh….um, ok."

 Glancing over her quickly, he turned on his heel and started towards the VIP section before she could see the surprise and shock on his face. He hated how her acceptance momentarily warmed his heart. He promised himself he would continue to test her, to make sure she was not feigning desire. For if she was, he had no problem giving her a taste of his anger and retribution for being played. His brothers had learned long ago to forgo what they thought was helpful by throwing women at him. Those same women usually returned to his brothers in tears and cursing his name due to the intimidation and demeaning he showered them in. 

 He led her to an unoccupied section, grateful that the space his brothers sat at was further away and they seemed preoccupied with their own revelry. Without a word, he dropped onto the couch, his legs thanking him for the reprieve. He turned to her and could not help but slide his heated gaze over her body. Standing there in her short, tight, black dress and wicked heels, he found his mouth suddenly dry. What she wore was pure temptation, flattering her delicious curves and elongating her legs to a point where he wondered what she would do if he dragged his tongue from her toes all the way up to her hip. It was the way that she lightly bit her lower lip, looking both excited and shy that caused his member to harden beneath him. 

 Silently, he held out his hand, beckoning her closer. A thrill raced down his spine as she took her hand and let him guide her to straddle his lap. 

 "Good girl." He murmured, pleased by her actions. 

 As her lips descended once more upon his, where last time he was unmoved, this time he took control. His hands gripped her ass, holding her against him as his mouth dominated. His tongue greedily worshiped her mouth, drawing her tongue into a sensual dance that earned a moan from her. Unable to stop, he found himself powerless to tear his mouth from hers. It was like the sweetest ambrosia he ever tasted. Her mouth was both sweet and filthy and he wanted to drown in the taste. 

 When her lips retreated, he almost snarled at losing their touch. Instead he dropped his mouth to her chest, lavishing the line of her cleavage with his mouth and tongue. 

 "Fuck, you taste amazing." He whispered. He could get drunk just off the taste of her. His tongue traced the tops of her breasts once more before moving up her chest and neck to suckle just below her earlobe, wanting to leave his mark. In more than one place. When a soft purr escaped her due to his touch, he could not help the possessive way he held her tighter, needing her closer, needing to hear that sound again. 

 Her hands grasped his face, forcing their lips to meet again and it was all he could do to suppress the pleased growl in his throat. Her hips began grinding fervently above him and he knew she was lost to the throes of pleasure. 

 "Fuck, kitten, keep going. Ride my cock." He growled into her mouth. He watched as she threw her head back, mouth open. Continuing to grind under her, he decorated her skin with hot, open-mouth kisses and sucking occasionally, wanting to leave evidence of his touch on her. So she could not forget him easily. To mark her as his. For after this, she would surely be his. He watched her unashamedly as her orgasm hit her. Her lips parted, eyes closed and head thrown back, she was the most beautiful creature in this moment he had ever laid eyes on. 

 "What…." He watched as she licked her lips, seeming to struggle with forming a coherent statement once the blinding pleasure dissipated. "What, um, was that?"

 "What are you talking about?" He asked smugly, as he continued to place open mouth kisses along her chest and neck, never stopping his ministrations. His member was rock-hard under him and demanding attention. Soon enough, he would have her on her knees before him. He wanted to see those pretty, pink lips he enjoyed so much wrapped around his cock. 

 "Um, that feeling… I just...wow…." She stuttered out, voice wavering. 

 He stopped his ministrations, a realization dawning upon him. He tilted his head slightly to hold her gaze. "Have you never had an orgasm before?"

 He could see the panic that filled her eyes before she even moved. As soon as she tried to dart away like a skittish animal, he pinned her to him, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck and kept a firm grip on her hip with the other. 

 "You never have…." He murmured aloud. Truthfully, virgins were an elusive breed due to his social circle and work. Especially virgins coming to him. This information also drew forth a caveman feeling that inflamed his blood and made his member strain with even more painful pressure. He was the first to touch, the first to give her pleasure. It made him want to lay her down and have her right there on the couch, uncaring of anyone who walked by. He wanted to hear her purr under him, to drag her nails down his back. He wanted to claim her, to never let another man touch her. That only he would bring her pleasure. He wanted to corrupt and taint her, but also worship her as his goddess. 

 "Are you a virgin, my pretty kitten? Mmm?" He knew the answer but wanted to hear her say it. Needed her to confirm it. 

 "Please," she whined. He was unsure if her plea was to save her from speaking out loud her innocence or to continue lavishing her with pleasure. Either way, he could tell she was at his mercy and he loved it. 

 Deliberately slow, he leaned closer to her, hovering his mouth over hers. The way her breath hitched, her eyelashes fluttered, her hands tightening on his shoulders, he knew she wanted him. 

 "Kari!'

 His pretty kitten jerked at the call, drawing her gaze to two women standing at the entrance of the VIP section with the bouncer.  

 "It's time to go!" One of them yelled over the music. 

 He narrowed his eyes at them, angry that they were stealing her attention. The one who called out ignored him, keeping her eyes on the brunette in his lap while the other practically bounced on her toes, nervousness evident. Clearly, they knew who he was. He smirked, a dark and devious look that caused both to stiffen even from far away. He licked his bottom lip as if tasting their fear in the air. 

 "I have to leave." She quietly said when she turned back to him. Any other person he would have assumed she would be pleased to abandon him, that this whole thing was a set up and now her friends were coming to 'rescue' her. Staring up at her, he could see the guilt in her eyes, the lust still dancing there. 

 There was still his question he wanted answered before he even considered letting her go, which he was becoming more and more reluctant to. He dropped his head, nuzzling her neck after brushing her hair away before whispering into her ear. "Answer my question first." 

 "I... I need to go. I'm sorry. Please. I just…"

 He forced her gaze to meet his, lips ghosting over hers. "Answer. Me." He snapped, not pleased with her trying to get out of answering. 

 Finally, her answer came out in a barely heard whisper. "Yes."

 He paused, both surprised and elated by her confession. Immediately, he slammed his lips to her with abandon, forcing her into a needy kiss, coaxing her tongue to dance with his again. A lusty moan from her filled the nonexistent space between them and he answered with a growl. He desired her. More than just a lustful want. No, he found himself enthralled by her innocence but also the way she clung to him as he alone kept her tied to this world, instead of floating away on waves of pleasure. 

 "Stay." He whispered against her lips. 

 "I can't …."

 "I'll bring you home. We aren't finished yet." He stated, rolling his hips under her, his hard cock rubbing against her hot core. Gods, he wanted to keep touching her. Never before had a woman enthralled him as much as she did. He could not, would not, relinquish her. She was his. 

 "Please, I'm sorry. I want to stay, I promise. I've never…. I…. I just need to go. I'm sorry."

 The hint of panic in her voice dulled his lust. It was her words, confirming her want of him that placated him for now; but he would let her go on his terms, not on hers' and especially not on her meddlesome friends' that continued to stare at them. 

 Slowly, as if to prove he still controlled the situation, his grip loosened on her. His thumb caressed her pulse point, loving the erratic beat due to his presence and touch. His other hand trailed up her body as if to memorize it once more before taking her hand. In an uncharacteristic show of affection, he entwined their fingers. His blue eyes beheld her own, the blue-green color swirling and making him feel adrift at sea. Everything in him screamed to keep her in his lap, to not let her go. But there was something different about her, something that demanded care and tenderness, which confused him. She was the first woman besides his mother to show him such soft affection, to make him feel strangely safe. As he sat there staring at her, he felt that he was watching the sun set, beauty radiating enough to take his breath, but he feared the sun would never rise again on them. 

 "KARI!"

 She jolted at the frantic call of her name, tearing her eyes away. If he had no longer been tethered to her, her hand in his, he would have pulled out the knife hidden on his body and thrown it at her friend who kept interrupting them. It would bring him satisfaction to see the knife protruding from her thigh…. he had no intentions of killing her…. unless she interrupted him and his kitten once more. 

 He turned back to her, hoping to draw out a few more moments. "Can I see you again?" He quietly asked, running his thumb along the back of her hand.

 "I hope so." She smiled tenderly at him, then stepped away and walked towards her friends. 

 His gaze traced over her curves as she walked away, watching her hips sway and those tantalizing legs he wanted to caress. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. His gaze flickered back up to her friends. When he saw the one who kept calling her was watching him, a menacing smile grew and his gaze hardened. He was pleased to see her visibly stiffen and scurry away. 

 To his surprise, before fully descending the stairs, the pretty brunette looked over her shoulder to meet his gaze once more. In his mind, he begged her to come back, to return to him. Though the words would never cross his lips. He never begged. His pride and ego would never allow it. Nor would it allow him to chase after her to get her full name or phone number. 

 Then she disappeared amongst the crowd just as quickly as she appeared in his life. 

 His head and shoulders dropped as if an invisible weight had been placed on him. He sat there for a long moment, his mind reviewing everything that just occurred. He also needed his enraged cock to settle before he even attempted to get up. The sounds of her moans in his ear, the soft feel of her skin, how she fit perfectly in his lap as if made by the gods especially for him, that damn purring noise she made as he licked her almost made him blow his load. All of it he never wanted to forget. Though, remembering was not helping him to calm down. There was something different about her, a mysterious quality he wanted to discover and explore, just as much as her body. It was the way she held him unafraid that beguiled him the most. From the way her friends reacted, he knew they understood who he was. But her…. he had the impression she did not know him or what he was. Normally he would be offended, but not with her. She was special. His kitten. 

 With a grunt, he heaved himself off the couch to return to his brothers. At this point they probably figured he had abruptly left or been abducted. Depending on the brother, abduction might be preferable.  

 *****

 "Ivar! There you are!" Ubbe exclaimed, lifting his glass up as Ivar rounded the corner to enter their secluded area. "We were beginning to think you had somewhere more important to be."

 The youngest Ragnarson rolled his eyes as he dropped down onto the couch near Hvitserk. 

 "Who called?" Hvitserk asked, looking at Ivar over his glass. 

 Before answering or meeting the questioning looks of his three brothers, Ivar reached forward and grabbed his beer he had left behind and quickly drained it. Once done, he rolled the cup momentarily between his hands before speaking. "Mother."

 "And what could she possibly want now?" Sigurd drawled, an arm slung over his latest girlfriend. Ivar no longer even tried to remember their names, they were exchanged so often. 

 "Sigurd…." Ubbe reprimanded, giving him a side-glance before looking back at Ivar. His harlot girlfriend, Margrethe, leaned against his side, hand tracing patterns on his thigh. 

 The raven-haired brother sighed before straightening.  "She said she's coming to visit next week."

 Sigurd dropped his head back dramatically onto the back of the couch with a groan while Ubbe solemnly nodded and took a sip of his drink. Margrethe grimaced and muttered something under her breath that caused Ubbe to look sharply down at her. Only Hvitserk seemed unphased by the news, eyes meeting Ivar's for a brief moment before looking back over to watch those on the dance floor. 

 Ivar himself had mixed emotions when it came to his mother. He undoubtedly loved her the most out of anyone in the world. Her presence could also feel strangling at times.  

 "So," Hvitserk started with a smirk on his face, his gaze shifting to Ivar once again, "you going to tell us what took you so damn long to get back? I doubt the phone call took that long."

 Ivar narrowed his eyes at his brother. He knew his brother was playing a game with him and if the smirk said anything, Hvitserk knew why he had taken so long to return to their couches. "Fuck off, Hvitty."

 His brother chuckled while the others around the table looked on in confusion. 

 "Someone care to explain…." Ubbe said. 

 "No." For some reason Ivar found himself not wanting to talk about her. He had heard on more than one occasion how his brothers talked and compared their conquests. Ivar never joined those conversations, not because he was ashamed but he liked his privacy. 

 "Ah, come on, Ivar. She was beautiful, even if I could only really see the tight grip you had on her ass while she straddled you…. hell of an ass." Hvitserk teased. 

 Ivar slammed his glass down on the table, making the table and other glasses rattle precariously. "You say another damn word and I'll break your fucking jaw."

 His second eldest brother raised his hands in a show of surrender but the mischief in his eyes let Ivar know their conversation was not over yet. 

 "What? Ivy found himself a girl?" Sigurd scoffed. "Probably had to pay her to suck his cock."

 "Shut the fuck up." Ivar snarled. 

 "Enough, you two." Ubbe rubbed a hand down his face in exasperation. He glanced over at his youngest brother. "Care to explain?"

 Ivar was not stupid; he could see the intrigue in his eldest brother's face but it did nothing to move him. Instead he leaned back, and turned his gaze to look over the dance floor below. Soon a new conversation started up amongst his brothers but he paid no mind. His attention was on thoughts of her once again.

 "You get her number?" Hvitserk asked quietly after a while. Sigurd had disappeared with his girlfriend while Ubbe and Margarthe were talking and fondling one another. 

 "Does it matter?" Ivar retorted with a devious smirk. That answer made Hvitserk laugh out loud. The youngest Ragnarson had the uncanny ability to find someone when he put his mind to it. On more than one occasion their father had used that talent to find someone that had crossed him. 

 "Hey, ignore Siggy and Ubbe. She seemed into you. Try and get in touch with her, but for fuck's sake, don't stalk her." The two chuckled at that before Hvitserk turned serious again. "What was her name? Or were you too busy getting her off to ask?"

 He mock-glared before looking away. Out of all his brothers, he was definitely closest to Hvitserk. He was the most cool-headed out of all of the Lothbroks and quiet. He was slow to anger but did not shy away from unleashing his fury and bloodlust when the time called for it. Ever since they were children, somehow the two of them clicked compared to any of the other brothers. The second eldest also seemed able to pick up Ivar's moods with ease and knew when to leave the volatile Lothbrok alone. 

 After several silent seconds, Ivar finally whispered. "Kari." Even her name tasted sweet on his tongue. Surveying the club, he promised himself that he would find her. By the gods, he would see her once again and have her. For even if he did not want to admit it fully to himself, he was already addicted to her taste and touch and the mystery about her. And he had never been known to give up on something that fascinated him….and she was no exception.