#I need to get my tagging system under control

[mercars-musings]

Rate Your OC Traits

Tysm for the tag @redheadsramblings & @sunny374940! I so appreciate the amount of times youse both give me opportunities to yap about my boy hehe

Tis Az Mercar again! <3

Compassion: 7/10 — He DEFINITELY leads with compassion more often than not but tbh it TRULY depends who you are. Another random person? Sure, he'll try compassion. Someone he dislikes like a Magister, a Venatori, Solas, or another prick who would rather get their own while others suffer? Yeah fuck you, swift kick to the face if you don't get out his way. ~ Bitterness: 5/10 — Depends when you catch him, this bitch has so much trauma and is filled with a quietly bubbling rage just under the surface, but is also AMAZING at compartmentalising and bottling his feelings up. :') ~

Happiness: pre-veilguard 5/10— Work was his entire life, he barely went out and only ever did hook ups. He did NOT want to deal with romance ever again and genuinely never saw himself with a future past probably dying to stop some asshole magisters.

Happiness: post-veilguard 8/10 — He's got a wonderful husband, a surprise skeleton son and finally got the Dock Town Doggo thats always barking to come live with him. He's still traumatized and is dealing with a lot BUT he finally sees a future where he's happy and with those he loves. ~

Chivalry: 3/10 — Ehhhh, he does do romantic stuff don't get me wrong, but if he's ever being "chivalirous" it's most likely in a silly teasing way to make Em smile! ~

Pride: 5/10 — It's kind of a middle ground. He's proud of what he's accomplished as a Shadow Dragon & he's proud that he was able to stop the Elven Gods & keep {most of} his loved ones alive. But deep down he's still the weird kid that was severely bullied & had the only person who was ever proud of him killed before he could ever figure out how to be proud of himself. That shit kind of fucks up your self worth. ~

Honesty: 7/10 — So, yes & no. He will be truthful to a point. He never lies to Em or his close friends on anything important. BUT he will lie about how he's feeling to avoid an awkward situation or to keep people from worrying about him. He will also lie to assholes & omit certain info to non family / friends on missions if it gets him what he needs / opens the right doors bc well duh. ~

Bravery: 8/10 — He's a proper chicken shit at heart but he WILL do what is right & will do it with a brave face while he's internally SCREAMING in a panic lmfao. ~

Recklessness: 7/10 — He DOES prefer to think things true but sometimes his moral compass is a liiiiittle too strong and prompts him to act first, do damage control later. There is a reason the Shadows sent him to work with Varric for a while after all! ~

Ambition: 4/10 — He doesn't really care for titles or anything of the sort. He just wants to help people and fuck over as many magisters and Venatori he can along the way lmao. If a title helps him do that though, he may consider trying to achieve it! ~

Loyalty: 10/10 — Look this bitch commits HARD okay? He spent so long without a support system that he just didn't care for long but NOW? Now, he has something. He has a family in the Veilguard, Siblings in Taash & Davrin, a Partner in Emmrich & a son in Manfred & daughter in Hissera. He's had a taste of what he's always been after, finally and by the Gods he will die for it & to keep them safe if he has to. ~

Love: 10/10 — As someone who tried so desperately to shut that part of himself off for a long time... his hopeless romantic ass & his desire for family has kind of come back in full force and he will do anything for his loved ones. ~

Sense of family: pre-veilguard 3/10 — Desperate for one but with a mum who never wanted kids and a dad who loved him but was away from home constantly. He never really felt it in a meaningful way. Sense of family: post-veilguard 9/10 — He still has his scars and MANY hang ups around the topic of family. But, he definitely understands a lot more now and absolutely loves the little family he found / made. ~

Attractiveness: 10/10 — I personally think this dude is pretty as fuck. Is his appearance a self insert of how I want to look in the DA universe? Yes, which I think explains my answer bc I WANT TO LOOK PRETTY lmfao. If you ask him he'd just shrug, Emmrich agrees with me though, he's hot and pretty af. ~

Agility: 7/10 — He's agile enough. He's a mage and does close quarter combat and is great at it. But also don't ask him to do anything toooo physically demanding in his off time, his bones hurt lmfao. ~

Sex drive: 8/10 — Pretty healthy amount tbh. He really likes sex, ESPECIALLY with Emmrich. But also sometimes would just rather cuddle with his necromancer and read. :3 ~

No Pressure Taggies! : @thedissonantverses ; @andthekitchensinkao3 ; @ofcrowsanddragons ; @caughtnyact ; @hyperions-light & literally anyone else who sees this and wants in! <3

[sillynarcissist]

we all have that one homie we can't stand talking to but the detriments of ignoring them are worse than the annoyances of being their friend

[mononijikayu]

aphrodisiac — geto suguru.

WARNING/TAGS: afab! reader, one shot, smut, r–18, romance, sexual acts, public sex, bathroom sex, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), multiple orgasms, bodily fluids, creampie, clothed sex, profanity, cursing, ruining of underwear, accidental drinking of aphrodisiac, mention of aphrodisiacs and effects, mention of profanity, mention of sexual acts, depiction of sexual acts, depiction of aphrodisiacs and igs effects, profanity, boyfriend! suguru, girlfriend! reader;

NOTE: no other notice except that i was profane and horny and i needed to get it out my system. in short this is a day dream, its a short r–18 blurb, an unadulterated smut between two adults. read at your peril.

masterlist

if you want to, tip!

THIS WAS DEFINITELY BAD. Geto Suguru's heart raced as he felt the effects of the unknown substance coursing through his veins.

His skin flushed, his breath came in short gasps, and an overwhelming urge to touch, to be touched, consumed him. He grabbed your arm, his fingers digging into your skin.

"We need to go, baby." He urged, his voice strained. "Now."

He dragged you towards the bathroom, ignoring the many curious glances from the other partygoers. Once inside, Suguru locked the door and turned to you, his purple eyes eyes wild with desire at you.

"Someone put something in your drink, baby…..I didn’t want you to deal with that." he gasped, his hands shaking as he unbuckled his belt. "It's an aphrodisiac. I can't... I need..."

He didn't finish the sentence, instead pulling you flush against him, his lips crashing onto yours in a desperate, hungry kiss. Suguru's hands roamed your body frantically, his touch leaving trails of fire in their wake.

He lifted you onto the bathroom counter, stepping between your legs and pressing his hardness against you. He was feeling his skin sear with endless heat.

"I'm sorry…." he panted against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. "I can't control it. I need you. Now."

His fingers fumbled with the zipper of your dress, tugging it down impatiently. Suguru's mouth followed, kissing and biting his way down your chest, pushing the fabric aside to expose your breasts.

He took one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, while his hand slid under your skirt, pushing your panties aside to delve into your wet heat.

"So wet, baby….." he groaned, his fingers pumping in and out of you. "You want this too, don't you? You want me to fuck you right here, where anyone could walk in and see."

"Yes, fuck….yessssss….." you gasped, your head falling back against the mirror. "God, yes."

You allowed your hips to be bucked against his hand, seeking more friction. You groaned against him, setting a steady rhythm. You could feel Suguru's fingers curling inside you, hitting that spot that made your toes curl.

Suguru's eyes flashed with desire at your words. He withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean. "Mmm, you taste so good, baby." he murmured, his voice husky with arousal.

“You’re so good, ‘guru.” You whisper to him. “Your fingers are so good…..”

“I know, baby.” He cooes to you, but he was having a hard time trying to keep himself calm because of the aphrodisiac. “But I gotta….I gotta make you feel better first. Lean against the wall.”

Suguru dropped to his knees in front of you as you leaned against the wall. He grabbed your hips, lifting your skirt, pulling you back against his face. He marveled a little bit before letting his tongue delve between your folds, licking a long, slow stripe up your center.

"Fuck, you taste amazing, baby. So so fucking tasty." he groaned against your flesh.

Suguru's tongue circled your clit, flicking the sensitive bud back and forth. He sucked it into his mouth, applying gentle pressure as he thrust two fingers inside you. His fingers curled, stroking your inner walls as he ate you out with fervor.

Suguru's eyes were wild, his pupils dilated with the effects of the aphrodisiac. He gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he buried his face between your thighs.

His tongue was relentless, licking and sucking at your clit with a fervor that bordered on desperation. He thrust his tongue inside you, fucking you with it as his fingers teased your entrance.

Suguru's other hand reached up, tearing at your dress, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the bathroom. He pinched your nipples roughly, sending jolts of pleasure–pain straight to your core.

His movements were frantic, almost violent in their intensity. Suguru was consumed by his need, driven by the aphrodisiac coursing through his veins. He ate you out like a man possessed, determined to make you come undone beneath his mouth.

You gasped as more of Suguru's fingers plunged into your dripping core, stretching you wider than you thought possible. His other hand continued to tease your clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. The pleasure was intense, bordering on painful, but you didn't want him to stop.

You couldn't believe how much he could fit inside you, his fingers curling and twisting, hitting spots you didn't even know existed. Suguru's mouth found your nipple, sucking hard as he fingered you relentlessly. He added a third finger, then a fourth, his hand disappearing inside you completely.

You screamed, your back arching off the counter as an orgasm ripped through you, your inner walls clamping down on his fist. But Suguru didn't stop. He continued to fist you through your orgasm, his hand moving in and out, prolonging your pleasure until you were begging him to stop.

Your fucked out face felt hotter by the second, back and front, your juices trickling from your legs as your boyfriend moved away, licking the juice on his face. He was getting hotter than you, even though he was not dugged into the wall. He starts to look at you, just as fucked out as you.

“You’re crazy…..You ruined my underwear.” You say, looking at your wet underwear. “You’re buying me a new one.”

Suguru's eyes darkened with desire at your words. He leans in again, kissing your neck. His hand palming your breasts. “As many as you want, baby. Lace, silk. I don’t care. I’ll buy you all you want.”

You groaned at him. “You’re just saying this because you want to keep it for yourself.”

He laughs. “How’d you know?”

“Cause even without aphrodisiacs, you’re a perv!”

He gripped your hips, positioning himself at your entrance once more. "You're sure about this?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "I don't know if I can be gentle. I can fist myself to calm down.”

You bit your lip, nodding eagerly. "I don't want you to be gentle, baby." you whispered. "I want you. All of you."

He unbuckled his belt with shaking hands, unzipping his pants and freeing his erection. Suguru's cock was thick and hard, the tip glistening with pre–cum. "Turn around, baby." he ordered, his voice firm. "Hands on the mirror."

You hesitated for a moment, but the look in his purple eyes, the commanding tone of his voice, made you comply. You turned, pressing your palms against the cool glass. Suguru lifted your dress skirt, exposing your bare bottom even more.

"Wrap your legs around me." He commanded, his voice rough with need. You obeyed, locking your ankles behind his back. Geto Suguru gripped your hips, positioning himself at your entrance.

"Look at me, baby." He said, his eyes boring into yours. "I want to see your face when I take you."

And with that, he thrust into you, filling you completely in one powerful stroke. Suguru's hips snapped forward, driving into you with a force that made the mirror shake.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed off the bathroom walls, mingling with your moans and his grunts. He gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he set a brutal pace.

"Fuck, you're so tight." he growled, his forehead resting against yours. "So perfect. My pretty baby."

Your legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper with each thrust. Suguru's mouth found yours, swallowing your cries as he fucked you against the mirror. He reached between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles.

Suguru's eyes were wild, his pupils dilated with the effects of the aphrodisiac. He gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh hard enough to leave bruises. His thrusts became erratic, almost violent in their intensity.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he chanted, his voice a guttural growl. "You're mine, do you hear me? Mine!"

He bit down on your shoulder, hard enough to break the skin. The pain mixed with pleasure, pushing you closer to the edge. Suddenly, Suguru pulled out, flipping you over onto your stomach. He kicked your legs apart, exposing you fully.

Without warning, he plunged back into you, his hips slamming against your ass with a force that made you cry out. Suguru's hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back as he fucked you mercilessly.

"Say it!" he snarled."Say you're mine!"

"I'm yours!" you screamed, tears streaming down your face."I'm yours, Suguru! Only yours!"

Your words seemed to snap something inside him. Suguru's movements became frenzied, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he chased his release. He came with a roar, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his seed.

But even as he emptied himself into you, Suguru didn't stop. He continued to thrust, his movements slower now but no less intense, as if he were trying to brand you with his touch, to imprint himself onto your very soul.

"Never forget it, baby." he panted, his breath hot against your ear. "Never forget who you belong to."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and something darker, something you refused to acknowledge.

Suguru's hand slid around your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck possessively. "I'll never let you go, never." he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll kill anyone who tries to take you away from me."

His grip tightened slightly, just enough to make you gasp for air. Suguru's other hand slid down your body, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in rough, demanding circles. You couldn’t stop mewling and drooling in the heaviness of pleasure all over your body.

"Come for me, baby." he commanded, his voice low and dangerous. "Come on my cock like the good little slut you are."

His words, his touch, the lack of oxygen – it all combined to push you over the edge. You came with a strangled cry, your body convulsing as pleasure mixed with pain. Suguru rode out your climax, his hips jerking erratically as he emptied the last of his seed into you.

He collapsed on top of you, his weight crushing you into the surface beneath you.You gasped for air, your lungs burning, your body aching.Suguru's hand slid from your throat, his fingers trailing down your chest possessively.

Suguru's grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh possessively. He nuzzled into your neck, inhaling deeply. "You smell so good, baby. " he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I could fuck you forever."

His hips pressed against your backside, his hardness evident even in his semi-erect state.You gasped, your body still sensitive from the previous encounters. "Suguru, please, babe." you whispered, exhaustion evident in your voice."I can't...I need a break."

He chuckled a bit darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine."A break?" he echoed, his hand sliding down to grip your thigh. "Baby, the night is still young. And I'm far from done with you."

His fingers tightened, pulling your leg back over his hip. You could feel him, hot and hard, pressing against your entrance. Geto Suguru's teeth grazed your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin.

"Don't you want more?" he whispered, his voice low and seductive. "Don't you want to feel me inside you again?"

His hips rolled, his tip sliding through your folds, coating itself in your juices. "You're so wet, baby." he groaned, his voice strained with need. "So ready for me."

Suguru's hand slid up your body, cupping your breast and squeezing gently. "Let me make you feel good…." he murmured, his thumb brushing over your nipple. "Let me fuck you until you can't walk straight."

His words, his touch, the lingering effects of the aphrodisiac — it all combined to stir the embers of desire within you. Your body responded instinctively, your hips arching back against him. Geto Suguru took that as permission, his hand tightening on your thigh as he began to push into you slowly.

"That's it, baby." he praised, his voice a low growl. "Take my cock like a good girl."

Suguru's movements were slow and deliberate, savoring every inch as he slid deeper into your welcoming heat. He filled you completely, his thickness stretching you deliciously. He began to move, his hips rolling in a gentle rhythm that built with each thrust.

"You feel so good, so so good…." he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "So tight, so perfect."

His hand on your breast squeezed gently, his thumb and forefinger pinching your nipple lightly.The combination of sensations was overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Suguru's other hand slid down, his fingers finding your clit and circling it in slow, teasing motions.

"Come for me again, baby." he commanded softly, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "Come on my cock, baby. Let me feel you."

"Fuck, yes!" he groaned, his hips snapping forward as he rode out your climax. "That's it, milk my cock."

Suguru's movements became more urgent, his thrusts faster and harder as he chased his own release. He bit down on your shoulder, marking you as his as he fucked you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Your body was limp, spent, but Suguru showed no signs of stopping. He flipped you onto your back, spreading your legs wide and driving into you with renewed vigor.

"I'm going to fill you up, baby." he promised, his voice strained. "I'm going to pump you full of my cum again and again and mark you as mine."

His words, his actions, the sheer intensity of the moment — it was all too much. The bathroom door swung open, and Suguru froze, buried deep inside you. But he didn't pull out. Instead, his grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh possessively.

"Get out, you fuck." he snarled, his voice low and dangerous. He didn't turn to look at the intruder, his gaze locked onto yours, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity. "Now."

The person in the doorway was flustered red and was too stunned. They hesitated, no doubt taken aback by the scene before them. But Suguru's tone left no room for argument.

They muttered an apology and retreated, the door slamming shut behind them. Suguru's attention returned to you, his hips beginning to move again, his thrusts slow and deliberate.

"Where were we?" he murmured, his lips curling into a wicked smile. "Oh, right. I was about to fill you up."

[sunsetmaidenwrites]

An Essay on SamBucky

Just got back from seeing Captain America: Brave New World and am full of thoughts. The following contains Sambucky-centric thoughts, head canons, and spoilers based on the movie. (I have a separate post that includes my overall thoughts on the movie but this one is solely Sambucky.)

Sambucky nation--we rise! No divorce era for us! (Though it did provide for some awesome, angsty fics). I hope the trend continues with Thunderbolts*. Bucky is obviously looking rougher there than he did in this movie, so we're not out of the woods yet, but I'm feeling pretty good about our chances.

There's so much to say here. Multiple Bucky mentions (Sam alluding to Bucky when he talks about having a friend who was controlled by trigger words.), a picture of SamBucky prominently displayed at Sam's headquarters, Bucky showing up as emotional support when Sam needs him most, the hug, the "Buck" and the "I love you, Buddy." All of these have already been mentioned a lot, though, so for this post (who am I kidding this is an essay!), I would like to highlight a few points pertaining to the movie. I haven't really seen discussed in the Sambucky tag yet.

First, Sam says the following to Bucky at the hospital:

"Joaquin’s in here. Isaiah’s in prison. And Sterns…I had him. I had Sterns right in my hands but he got away." Bucky is given no additional backstory here, which means he already knows who Sterns is and what Sam is dealing with. This indicates Sam and Bucky are in regular contact with Sam keeping Bucky filled in on what's happening. This isn't just a case of Bucky seeing news footage and immediately going to Sam. Bucky is an active part of Sam's life and support system.

Then we have Bucky's line:

"Steve gave people something to believe in, but you give them something to aspire to." Bucky's admiration and devotion to Sam here is quite evident. I fully believe Bucky Barnes is all in for Sam Wilson and has been probably for longer than even he realizes.

Then toward the end of the scene where we get our iconic "Thanks Buck" and "I love you, Buddy" moment:

We have a wealth of unspoken communication here. Sam and Bucky seem to have a whole conversation with both their eyes and body language before they speak these words. Sam looks at Bucky. Looks down at (presumably) Bucky's outstretched hand. Then his eyes cut back up to Bucky. Then they cut back down as he shakes Bucky's hand, then he looks back up at Bucky. For Bucky's part, his eyes never leave Sam's face during the entirety of this. It's only right before he says "I love you, Buddy" that his gaze cuts down from Sam's face. After saying the words, Bucky proceeds to back away and Sam watches him go. The way this scene plays out, and the choices Mackie and Stan make leave a lot of room for subtext and interpretation, imo.

Right after this scene, we also get the female agent coming in with questions/comments about Bucky to Sam, alluding to a possible interest which Sam shuts down with "He's 110 years old." Look, it might make sense for Sam to try to nip a Bucky/Sarah potential connection in the bud like he did in TFATWS and it not mean anything (that's another essay for another day. I wasn't on Tumblr back then to share my thoughts on that.); after all, that's his sister and Bucky was riding on his last nerve through all the previous episodes at that point. It does not, however, make sense for Sam to insert himself into the narrative at this point and try to dissuade a random CIA agent from showing interest in Bucky if Bucky is just his friend and/or Sam's interest in him is purely platonic. It just doesn't. I cannot come up with a logical explanation for this besides the obvious 'that man is mine, step off' conclusion.

And for my last point:

During Sam's final showdown with the red hulk, with the outcome uncertain, and defeat (and therefore death) potentially eminent, Sam proceeds to bitch about Bucky under his breath. "Bucky is full of so much shit..." I know this is supposed to be funny and snarky, but it's also quite telling. We know that the signature of SamBucky's relationship--whether it's platonic or romantic--is the bickering. Not only is Sam spending his potential last moments ranting about Bucky (again, the staple of their relationship), he's also spending them thinking about Bucky. He's going out there facing odds that seem insurmountable and it's Bucky that's on his mind.

So, in conclusion, they're in love.

[cece693]

mmmore personal bodyguard.. OHhh i love this old man!!! ohh i love tony stark please.. would you make more of male reader and Tony..

I also love that old man. So, I was thinking of what else can he and his hunky bodyguard get up to and then DING! What if the bodyguard takes his job so seriously that he takes a hit meant for Tony and we get an overprotective Iron Man?

Personal Bodyguard Pt. 2

pairing: tony stark x male reader tags: overprotective Tony, Tony has feelings, reader is over it, he was a military man for fucks sake, my man be stressin, reader is set to prove a point, fluff

You stir awake in the gleaming medical bay of Stark Tower, blinking under the fluorescent lights. The drug-induced fog makes your thoughts sluggish, but the unmistakable sting in your shoulder reminds you exactly why you’re here. You shift against the pillows, wincing at the dull throb of pain.

Across the room, a small army of medical personnel are quietly conferring, flipping through charts and checking vitals. You hear the beep of machines and soft murmurs. It’s overwhelming, and you’re not the only one who thinks so. “Everyone out,” comes a familiar, commanding voice. “Now.”

Tony stands at the entrance, hair mussed, tie undone, brow etched with anger and worry. His voice cuts like a knife through the room. The doctors and nurses exchange glances, but none dare contradict him. They file out in a subdued rush—some clearly concerned, but none wanting to challenge Tony Stark when he’s in this mood.

“And before anyone complains,” he adds, glowering, “I’ve got the best AI in the world monitoring him, so scram.”

Moments later, the door slides shut with a quiet hiss. The only sound left is the steady pulse of the heart monitor by your bed and the faint hum of the Tower’s ventilation system. Tony crosses the room in long strides, practically radiating anxiety. He stops at your bedside, eyes darting from the bandages on your shoulder to your face, to the monitors, and back again. It’s like he can’t decide what to focus on—he just wants everything to be okay.

“Are you comfortable?” he demands, reaching to adjust your pillows. “Do you need a different angle? More medication? Less medication? You look like you’re in pain. You should’ve said something—didn’t the doctors tell you to—?”

A weak smile tugs at your lips. “Tony, breathe. I’m all right.” But he’s not listening. He keeps fiddling with the bed’s controls, trying to find the perfect angle, cursing under his breath when the motor jerks your injured shoulder.

“Sorry,” he mutters, pulling back like he’s burned. “God, I’m screwing this up.”

“Hey,” you say, voice soft, “it’s fine. Really.”

He sighs, frustration etched across his features. “It’s not fine. If it were fine, you wouldn’t be in a hospital bed with a bullet wound.” His hands ball into fists at his sides. “I’ve been over the security tapes a hundred times, trying to figure out how I could’ve—how we could’ve—prevented this.”

The chair next to you squeaks as Tony sinks into it, his exhaustion evident. He rubs a hand over his face, and you see the shadows under his eyes. You suspect he hasn’t slept since the incident. “I can’t—” Tony starts, then stops, words hitching in his throat. “I can’t just sit here and watch you get hurt because of me.”

You let out a careful sigh. Even that small motion makes the pain spike. “Tony,” you say, voice steady despite the discomfort, “it’s not your fault.”

He makes a strangled noise and gestures to your injured shoulder. “Yeah, ’cause getting shot while protecting me is totally just a random coincidence.” He’s spiraling—has been, ever since the bullet meant for him hit you instead. You try to catch his eye, but he’s jittery, like a live wire about to spark.

“Look,” Tony says, voice cracking, “maybe you—maybe you should go. Quit. Or—or I should fire you. I’ll give you a severance package that’ll make CEOs weep with envy. You can do literally anything else. Anything safer.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Fire me?” There’s a stab of hurt under the shock, but you force yourself to stay calm. “That’s one hell of a ‘thank you for taking a bullet for me.’”

He flinches at your words, but his gaze hardens—a brittle, desperate resolve. “If it means you never have to bleed for me again, then yeah. I’ll do it.”

A flurry of emotions churns in your gut—annoyance, exasperation, and a surprising surge of affection for the panicked man in front of you. You carefully push yourself upright, ignoring the twinge of pain, and pin Tony with a firm look. “You can’t do this.”

“Fire you?” He scoffs, but the sound comes out choked. “I can do anything I want, remember? Billionaire with an army of lawyers.” A shaky hand runs through his hair again. “I could relocate you to—oh, I don’t know—Switzerland. Buy you a nice chalet in the Alps or something. You’d never have to see a bullet in your life.”

You can’t stop the small, exasperated laugh that escapes you. “A chalet in the Alps. Fancy. I’ll keep that in mind for retirement.” You pause, letting the joking tone fade. “But until then, no deal.”

He looks incredulous. “Why not?” he demands, voice cracking again. “Why on Earth would you want to keep doing this?” His eyes flick to the bandages peeking from your hospital gown, as if they’re the most damning evidence in the world.

You tilt your head, the ghost of a wry smile tugging at your lips. “Because you hired me to protect you, genius,” you say, letting a bit of humor slip in. “I got shot, yeah, but guess what? You didn’t. Mission accomplished.”

He stares at you like you’ve grown a second head. “I’m sorry—what part of you being shot is an accomplishment?!”

“The part where the bullet didn’t go through you.” You soften your tone. “Look, Tony, I know you hate that this happened. But injuries are part of the job, and I accepted that risk the moment I signed on.”

He slumps forward, elbows braced on his knees, face buried in his hands. “Well, I didn’t sign on for this.”

You reach out with your good arm and place a hand on his forearm. “Tony, look at me,” you coax. Slowly, he drags his hands away from his face, eyes red-rimmed. “This injury isn’t as bad as it looks. I’ve had worse in basic training.” (A slight exaggeration, but hey, you’d say anything to calm him right now.)

Tony tries to scoff, but it comes out more like a choked laugh. “Basic training had bullet wounds?”

You shrug with your good shoulder. “Not me, specifically, but some guys I knew.” You press on before he can argue. “Point is, I’m okay. Sore, but okay. So, you’re not firing me.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you fix him with a look. The “don’t even try it” kind that makes even a billionaire genius back down.

“Let me make this clear,” you continue, voice gentler now but unyielding. “I appreciate the concern, really. It means a lot that you care about what happens to me. But this is my choice. I’m not walking away, and you sure as hell aren’t pushing me away. If we keep doing this dance, the only thing you’ll accomplish is driving yourself crazy—and me right along with you.”

He sucks in a breath, eyes glimmering with fresh tears, though he blinks them back rapidly. “I just…I don’t want to see you hurt again. Ever.”

Your lips curl into a small smile. “That’s not how this works, Tony. If I’m with you, there’s always a risk. You’re Iron Man, for crying out loud. Trouble follows you like a lost puppy.”

A strangled half-laugh, half-sob escapes Tony. He scrubs at his face again, clearly embarrassed by his own display of emotion. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, still not meeting your gaze. “I’m…I’m a wreck.”

You inhale, letting your fingers drift from his arm to his hand, lacing them together. “Yeah, you are,” you agree, tone gentle but with a fond edge. “And that’s okay. But you don’t get to fire me. I’m tougher than I look, Stark.”

He starts to argue, but you give his hand a firm squeeze. “Seriously,” you insist, making sure he hears every word. “I’ve been thrown out of planes, shot at, and gone through obstacle courses that make grown men cry. A little bullet in my shoulder? Not enough to scare me away from you.”

A hint of incredulity flashes in his eyes. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

“I do,” you say, jaw set. Before he can argue further, you shift your legs off the bed. Pain flares through your shoulder, but you grit your teeth and push yourself upright. Tony bolts to his feet like you’ve just threatened to jump off a cliff.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demands, voice shrill with alarm. “Hey—easy, easy!”

You wave off his concern. “I’m standing,” you say through clenched teeth, mustering a cocky smirk despite the pain. “You need proof I’m still in one piece? Well, here it is.” Tony’s eyes dart from your unsteady legs to your bandaged shoulder. He looks ready to catch you at any second. But you square your stance, heart pounding, determined to show him you’re stronger than he thinks.

He reaches out, as if to gently guide you back onto the bed, but you seize the moment. Sliding an arm around his waist—ignoring the painful protest in your shoulder—you pull Tony close. Then you press your lips to his in a firm, grounding kiss.

It’s not the smoothest kiss—your balance is off, and you’re pretty sure you’re leaning on him more than intended. But Tony’s body goes stiff for a split second before he melts against you with a quiet, desperate sound at the back of his throat. For those few seconds, the throbbing in your shoulder blurs into the background. All that matters is Tony’s warmth, the faint scent of cologne, and the taste of desperation on his lips.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathless. One of his hands is splayed across your lower back, the other hovering near your bandage as though he’s too scared to touch it. “You idiot,” he breathes, forehead pressed to yours. “You should be resting.”

“Probably,” you admit, wincing slightly as you shift your arm. “But you needed to see I’m still here. Really here.”

He draws in a ragged breath, eyes flicking over your face. “I see you,” he murmurs, voice tight with lingering fear. “But if you pass out, I’m going to strap you to that bed myself, understand?”

You huff a faint laugh. “Sounds kinky.”

A brief spark of amusement flashes in his eyes, followed by relief. “God, I hate you,” he jokes, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Don’t ever do that again.”

You card your fingers through his hair, feeling how tense he still is. “Can’t make promises, boss. Besides…” You pull back just enough to meet his gaze. “I’d do it all over again if it meant keeping you safe.”

He exhales shakily, and the hand on your back tightens. “You’re insane.”

“Probably,” you concede. “But you love me anyway.”

A hesitant, watery smile curves across his lips. “Yeah,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours. “I really do.”

[spencerreidenjoyer]

stress relief | spencer reid x reader

wc: 3k, rating: explicit/18+

warning/tags: established relationship, face fucking, blowjobs, vaginal sex, submissive!spencer, whiny!spencer, insecure!spencer (just a little, more like awkward lol), confident (and insanely horny) fem!reader

a/n: i'm back with more pwp!! surprise!!! i have no excuse. i wrote this in about 2 days. i needed to get it out of my system i think this spencer (s3-4) is crazy and perfect and i need him. also thank you for 100 followers on this little reid blog of mine! i hope to keep writing more on here <3

(p.s: you can find this fic on ao3!)

When you get on your knees between Spencer’s legs, looking up at him with wide eyes that spell sin, Spencer knows he’s in for a wild ride.

“You’ve been working too hard, Spence,” you say, shaking your head, speaking like you’re talking about the weather and not like you have a hand on his crotch, steadily stiffening under your touch.

You watch Spencer’s throat bob as he gulps. He blinks quickly, once, twice. “Yeah? You think so?”

“I know so,” you hum, fingers already toying with the button of his work slacks. Spencer had gotten home late from work tonight, but was still fretting over the stacks of reports on his desk in his home office in the apartment you share. After dinner, you’d convinced him to lounge on the couch for a bit, instead of getting back to work – leading you to where you are right now. “I think you need to relieve some of your stress.”

Almost like he’s nervous, his tongue darts out to lick his lips. “What are you thinking?”

“Orgasms release endorphins which contribute to stress relief, no?” You parrot the fun fact Spencer’s told you countless times, a small smirk on your face. As if your hand gently palming his cock hasn’t made your intentions more than obvious.

His eyebrows raise. “Oh. Yeah. Okay.”

“Wow, you could at least sound a little more enthusiastic about your girlfriend giving you head.” You deadpan, but you pop the button of his slacks anyway.

Spencer squeaks. “Sorry. I– I really want you to blow me.”

“I know, darling,” you coo, pulling down the zipper of his fly slowly, feeling the hardness of his cock pressed against it. His underwear is a bright pink when it gets exposed. You chuckle to yourself. “Cute."

Spencer flusters, laughing nervously. “Oh my God. I kind of forgot I was wearing those. Haha. Sorry."

“Baby,” you frown slightly. You’re not mad, not in the slightest, just amused with how he’s acting. You place your hands on his thighs, pausing with any of the action. “Why are you sorry? I think you’re so cute, you know.”

“My head isn’t on straight right now,” Spencer sighs, shaking his head. “I just want– Like, it’s going to be good for me, obviously, because you’re so good at this. I don’t need to want anything. I just– Want this to be good for you too.”

“It’ll be good for me if you stop overthinking it, Spence.” You smile. “It’s chill. Also, when do I not enjoy sucking your cock?”

Spencer covers his face with his hand, but you see him smile, laughing to himself. “You’re so crude, y’know? But I suppose you do really enjoy sucking me off.”

“I know.” You chirp. “And I do."

Your hand is down Spencer’s pants before he can even tell you to go ahead, but he knows that you know he wants it. Spencer hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, taking them off. His cock jumps up and you watch, fascinated with the obscenity of it all. Spencer’s cock curves up towards his stomach, reddening at the tip already.

You wrap your hand around his hardening cock, as you start to jerk him off. He lets out a high-pitched whimper, like he can’t control himself, and he cups a hand over his mouth. His eyes are wide as he stares down at you. You giggle, “It’s cute.”

“It’s kind of embarrassing,” Spencer says, his face a little red already.

You pout. “Come on, Spence. It’s really hot.”

His hand falls from his face to his lap, coming up to cup your cheek gently. “You like it?”

“You’re so sexy.” You nod. “Of course I like it. Now, make those noises for me again, pretty boy.”

Spencer squeaks as you tighten your grip around his cock, eyes fluttering shut as you stroke him. You work him up to full hardness – not that it takes very long for him to get there. You flick your thumb over the head of Spencer’s cock, tease into his slit where he’s steadily leaking already. His precome makes everything slick and sticky, easing the slide of your fist over his length.

Your eyes flit between Spencer’s face and his cock, marvelling at the growing mess in your hand and how his face is slowly but surely revealing his pleasure. He’s flushed, lower lip pulled in between his teeth, as you watch his chest rise and fall. His gaze pierces you, the intensity of how he looks sending shivers down your spine.

Knowing Spencer’s looking down at you, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, pressing it flat against the tip of his cock. Spencer lets out a strangled breath, eyes bugging out at the erotic sight of you between his legs. You wrap your lips around him, suckling gently on the head of his cock. You hope to make Spencer lose his mind like this. With the way he’s breathing heavily, lips parted as he takes in all of you, you think it’s working.

His whines are more frequent, accenting his hard breaths. You see how Spencer doesn’t know what to do with his hands, watch as he digs his nails into the flesh of his palms, and you instead hold him by his wrists to put his hands in your hair. The weight is comforting, and encourages you to sink down on his cock more. You take more than half of him into your mouth, but Spencer being… well-endowed meant that you often never were able to fit all of him in, unless you were in a particular mood.

The tip of Spencer’s cock hits the back of your throat, once it’s slid in. You gag at the intrusion, and Spencer lifts you off of him, slightly freaked out. “Are- Are you okay?”

“Baby, please,” you sigh, endeared but annoyed at the fact that he’s getting in the way of his own pleasure. “Trust me with this. Just focus on feeling good?”

Spencer’s brows furrow slightly, lips drawn into a little pout, but you nod to soothe his concerns. “Spencer, I want you to use me–” You stick your tongue out to lick at his length again, making him shudder. “–Just like this.”

“You want– You want me to…?” Spencer trails off, unsure if he’s picking up what you’re putting down.

“Fuck my face, Spencer,” you say bluntly, tired of flirting in circles. It’s fun flirting with Spencer, because it’s fun to fluster him when he isn’t expecting it, but right now, when he isn’t getting the hint, you need to lay it all out for him. “Use my mouth like a fleshlight. Whatever you want to do. Please.”

He inhales sharply, stunned at your explicitness. He pushes his hair back, out of his face, taking the time to process… everything. His gaze is tender, though, as he gently cups your cheek. “Okay. Yeah. I can do that. But if you don’t want it anymore, you– You have to let me know, okay?”

You smile up at him, pleased that he’s finally letting some of his inhibitions go, even if he still seems hesitant. You pat the side of his thigh thrice. “I’ll do that if it’s too much.”

“I love you.” Spencer says softly.

“I love you too, Spence.” You hum. “Now hurry up and fuck my face.”

“Jesus, you’re so crude,” Spencer laughs. He leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. Pulling back, he guides his cock to your mouth, the head of his cock pressing against the plush of your lips. His mouth is open when he looks at you like this. He whispers, “Fuck.”

You open your mouth to take him in, like you were before, sinking down inch by inch, until he’s comfortably settled in the back of your throat. Spencer doesn’t move to fuck your face yet, so you make the first move. You bob your head up and down on his length, making sure your mouth is wet and slick as you suck him off. He lets out a moan, hand fisted in your hair.

And here’s where it starts: You slow on his cock, and Spencer, finally taking what he wants, pushes your head down onto his cock for more. You gag slightly. Spencer pulls your head back up, pushes you back down. While you appreciate how much he cares about you, him putting his pleasure first in using you like this makes your toes curl.

Spencer’s cock in the back of your throat is not uncomfortable, not yet, but Spencer steels himself to fuck your mouth and you find your veins thrumming with adrenaline. Spencer’s first thrust is exploratory, cautious. He’s nervous, or it at least feels like it when he fucks into your mouth. You would tell him off, but your mouth is kind of occupied right now. Instead, you glance up at him, and hope that your gaze tells him to just fuck me.

One arm against the backrest of the couch, Spencer thrusts into your mouth again. He gasps. Chasing his own pleasure, his eyes flutter shut as he fucks your mouth. His thrusts are shallow, desperate, hurried, but his mouth falls open in stuttered, eager moans. He’s so gorgeous.

You’ve never heard anything so perfect, the way Spencer moans, the way he cries out your name. You press your legs together to stave off the arousal building between them. You feel like a mess, Spencer’s hand making a mess of your hair, Spencer’s cock making a mess of your mouth. You think spit is probably all over your chin right now, but he’d probably think you still look great anyway.

Spencer gasps, out of breath as he whimpers, “I’m– I’m close, I can’t–”

He fucks into your mouth once, twice more, before slumping back down onto the couch. There’s a slick, wet ‘pop’ as you pull off of Spencer, pouting slightly. “You know I’m happy to swallow, Spence.”

Spencer laughs, tired, and explains, “I know you do, dear. I just don’t think I have it in me to come more than once. And I really want to come inside of you.”

His words make you blush. Spencer doesn’t get too explicit too often, so hearing him say dirty things always turns you on. You reach up to wipe yourself clean, but Spencer’s already ahead of you with a tissue pressed to your face, gentle as he wipes your mouth and chin.

After cleaning you up, he helps you up off your knees and onto the couch. You’re both still clothed, sure, but Spencer’s boxers and pants have been pushed down to reveal his cock; you must be even more of a mess, hair rustled and face messy, and the desperation that makes itself clear at the sight of the both of you makes you giggle.

Spencer smiles at you. “What are you laughing about?”

“We must look insane right now,” you laugh. “We’re not even naked yet and we’re like this.”

“Well, I think you look beautiful,” Spencer says earnestly in a quiet voice, his hand tucking your hair behind your ear. Spencer’s touch is gentle, it always is, and especially in stark contrast to the way he’d fucked your face, just like you told him to. “My lovely girl.”

“Spence,” you purr, nuzzling into his hand as he cradles your face. “Love you.”

“I love you too.” Spencer’s answer is immediate, certain, and it makes you acutely aware of how turned on you are.

“I love you so much, and I really need you to fuck me right now.” You look up at him, watch as his face warms from serious to amused. You shift away from him slightly on the couch, but use the extra space to spread your legs. “Use this pussy, baby.”

Now, he presses his finger to his temple, shaking his head playfully. “Your mouth is filthy. You’re filthy.”

You grin. “Aww, Spence, at least tell me you like it!”

He leans forward to kiss you, hard and eager and desperate. You moan into the kiss, as his hand is pressed into the small of your back. You run your hand through his hair, where it’s starting to curl past the nape of his neck. When he pulls away, he says, looking deep into your eyes: “I like you. And your filthy mouth. Now let me fuck you.”

You giggle, wildly turned on as his long, deft fingers push your shorts and panties off. He kisses along your neck as he does so, then lays you back on the couch, and his thumb rubs circles into your inner thigh softly as he regards you, admires you. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

“You are too,” you say, awed, as Spencer takes off his nerdy little button-up. His body is perfect – not skin-and-bones skinny, but there’s a healthy litheness to him that you appreciate, especially when you’re grabbing at him while he fucks you. “Want you right now.”

“I know,” Spencer hums soothingly, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Come on, love.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watch, slack-jawed, as he wraps a hand around himself. His eyes flutter shut as he strokes himself, but he quickly snaps himself back to reality: guiding his cock in between your legs. He presses the tip to your clit, messy and glistening with your slick, and rubs against you in circles. You moan, feeling a little pathetic as you rut your hips forward to find any more pleasure like this.

Now, he presses the head of his cock to your hole, teasing, pushing it in slightly before it slips back out and spreads more of your slick across the rest of your cunt. You whine, pouting up at Spencer. He coos at you, “Okay, okay.”

Finally, he’s settled against your hole, the blunt head of his cock pressing into you excruciatingly slowly. It’s exhilarating, feeling him feed his cock into your hole, feeling him stretch you open, feeling like you were made for each other. He holds your leg up so he can press up closer to you, feeling so full as he puts his cock inside of you.

“Spencer,” you moan when he stops moving. “Fuck me. Just like earlier.”

”Okay, love.” Spencer nods, trails his hand down your waist and hips, down your thighs. “My gorgeous girl.”

Spencer thrusts into you, the first one sending electric pleasure through your body. He always loves to do it like this, make love to you slowly, intensely rocking into you until you feel all his love. You always do, but you don’t want that tonight. He knows that’s not what you want tonight.

When Spencer starts fucking you, his hips have gained a steady rhythm, your skin slapping together obscenely. It’s so wet between you two, where he’s pressed inside you. He fucks you hard and fast, eyebrows furrowed as he chases his own high. He’s so fucking cute, even while naked and trying his best to make you feel just as good as he does. He’s panting and groaning, your own moans mixing in with his. He knows you want him like this, hard and fast and messy.

You can’t form a coherent sentence, only able to babble and cry out for Spencer, for more, and you cling onto his arms as he pounds into you. You’ve never felt Spencer like this before. Sure, he’s always eager to please, doing whatever makes you feel good, but him going so hard, just like this, just the way you want makes you feel so needy, the both of you feeding off of each other’s desperation. All you can focus on is Spencer’s skin touching yours, the in-out slide of his cock, the slapping of skin on skin, the wet, slick noises of his cock fucking in and out of you.

“Cumming, Spence, I’m cumming,” You cry out needily, desperately, and you moan when he presses his thumb to your clit. He flicks at your clit in rough, hurried little circles. The pressure is cruel but just what you need for your release, and your whole body shakes as you orgasm. The high is so good, a different type of pleasure coursing through your veins.

You clench around Spencer, your cunt like a vice grip on him. Moaning loudly, his hips are stuttering as he comes inside of you too. He fucks out whatever momentum’s left in him, but pulls out quickly and gently, because he knows how fast you get overstimulated afterward.

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth, then presses his lips to yours. The kiss is soft, sweet, tame, unlike the depravity you were engaged in before, and the juxtaposition makes your head spin. Spencer, who is usually such a sweet, soft guy, being able to fuck you so hard and fast until the couch was creaking underneath you. You suppose that’s what he’s capable of when you ask. You like it. You wonder what else you can ask him to do. You think he’d do it in a heartbeat, knowing him.

“That was amazing,” you giggle breathlessly. “Spence, you’re a madman.”

”For you, my dear,” Spencer smiles. “Anything for you.”

You snuggle into his side, resting your head on his chest as you lay on the couch. You’re both sticky and gross, but you’re sure Spencer will be more than happy to clean up later. Right now, you’re just pleased to be cuddling your boyfriend.

”So, do you feel less stressed out about work now?” You ask, after a moment of comfortable silence.

”Well, I certainly wasn’t thinking about work,” Spencer laughs. “You know, some sociologists believe stress can be caused by positive events too? I think you cause me stress, but it’s good stress.”

”Watch your mouth, genius,” you snark playfully. “You’re lucky you’re cute enough that I’d take being called a stressor a compliment.”

“I love you,” Spencer sing-songs.

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the stupid grin that forms on your face. “Yeah, yeah.”

[xclowniex]

I got this comment on one of my other posts where I talk about how antizionists who claim they want to deradicalize zionists fail to do so and with their current approach are far more likely to "radicalize" jews.

Whilst this type of set up for a post usually leads into something negative, the comment isn't and I agree with it, I just wanna turn the idea I had of a response into its own post lol

On its own, it is not a radical idea, however it is radical in the sense of it forces a lot of western leftists to either reevaluate their ideas surronding colonialism, indigenousness, peace and justice, or ignore any opportunities of reflection and be bigoted. And obviously one is a lot easier than the other.

Jews and Palestinians don't fall into the classic colonizers vs. colonized categories as well, our history is different than in the west. Palestinians were not originally arab and were arabinzed through consensual and non-consensual means, and jews have been forcibly removed from the region from multiple groups. It does not play into the dichotomy of "white people came to the land, were violent and gained control and oppressed the native population" which is the overly simplified version of what has happened in the majority of western countries.

In the west, to achieve true peace and justice, you have to hand over control either fully or in part to indigenous folk. But because jews and Palestinians don't fall into western understanding of colonization, peace and justice doesn't look like that. It looks like coexistence with both groups holding power and self determination simultaneously.

Then you have the western view of race also in play. Jews don't fall into the western view of race and ethnicity. Because of multiple exoduses, jews come in a wide range of colors. We aren't just white or brown. Jew as an ethnicity comes from the middle east and is not a European ethnicity. Then wherever jews ended up after being forced out of the land complicates things. If they ended up in Africa, you get black jews like those from Beta Israel (in Ethiopia), if they ended up in other parts of the middle east you get Mizrahi jews (some people consider jews from beta Israel also Mizrahi and some don't, as I am not from beta Israel it is not a conversation I need to be a part of). You also have Sephardic jews, and ofc Ashkenazi jews. You have jews from all parts of Asia. Then you have mixed race/interfaith relationships too, which is how you get black folk in the US who are Ashkenazi jewish or Māori who are Ashkenazi like Taika Waititi.

And the whole forcing western ideals surrounding race, history, etc, onto non western countries, is problematic.

Whilst I'm definitely not the first to call it this in this sense, it is western leftism. It may even fall under white leftism.

And to those in which their belief system is entrenched in western and/or white leftism, the idea that jews don't fall into it, is radical to them.

(Tagging the person who made the addition is screenshotted as I feel weird if I don't @boreal-sea

[dyaz-stories]

how long will I slide? || Eun Hyuk x Reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings & tags: angst, big spoilers for s1 of sweet home, that should be it?

A/N: Written for day one of @neohumanmonster's fandom event, Turning a New Leaf. Prompt: The Other Side. He's the one I had an idea for for that theme, but I actually haven't watched s1 of Sweet Home in a couple of years, so I hope this feels in character for Eun Hyuk, and that it's not too incoherent for the setting of s1!

Eun Hyuk has eyes everywhere in the Green House apartment building — as much as he possibly can, at least. He’s used to studying efficiently,to taking as much information from a page as possible in a single glance. He’d never thought his abilities would be used in that way. That he’d end up sitting in front of footage coming from surveillance cameras, making sure not to let anything go unnoticed, because that would be the best way for him to be helpful to the people around him.

Oh, he doesn’t just do that. He’s taken up most of the tasks that require organization, wouldn’t trust others with it, if he’s being honest, but this is where he spends the bulk of his days. In front of a screen. Staring. His books forgotten and gathering dust in a corner of the room.

He doesn’t get distracted. If his eyes linger when you appear in front of ones of the cameras, it’s just because you’ve been vocal about thinking that other solutions were needed, and he doesn’t want you to endanger everyone by trying to put one of them in action. That’s all there is to it. He doesn’t have time for anything else anyway.

So when one of his screens flickers, he notices immediately. His mind starts running through the possibilities as he leans toward it, all of them bad. Any kind of system failure would be disastrous. Loss of electricity would be close to a death sentence. A camera being destroyed could mean that the monsters are getting better at finding them, smarter, which would mean they’re evolving.

And the last possibility, that he’s having a hallucination because his monsterization symptoms are progressing…

Well, he coldly evaluates, it would depend. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad, if the residents could evacuate before he loses control completely.

When the screen lights back on, and he’s met with his own eerily smiling face and eyes gone completely black, he’s almost relieved.

Good, he thinks. I’ll be able to help as long as the cameras work.

“Will you?” his other self asks as it spreads to the other screens like a virus, voice coming out like a screech through the speakers. “Are you sure you’re helping them?”

He supposes it shouldn’t surprise him that the monster knows how to get under his skin, and yet he sits straighter at the question.

“Of course I am. Without me—”

“Maybe if they’d run when they wanted to, most of them would be safe right now,” the monster says, admitting out loud a fear that’s been eating at Eun Hyuk since the very start of this forced confinement. “Maybe you’re killing them by making them stay here. And really…” It laughs, high-pitched and maniacal. “Using that kid when you’d never have the guts to step out there by yourself?”

“I would,” Eun Hyuk protests, even if he’s aware that there is no actual argument happening here. “But I’m not the same kind of infected person as him. And I’m doing my part here. It’s not like…”

“Like you’re sending a kid out to be tortured only so he can be ostracized here? Sure looks like it.”

“It’s not,” Eun Hyuk repeats, weaker this time.

The monster opens its mouth to speak once more, when there is a soft knock on the door.

“Eun Hyuk?”

It’s you, and the monster’s face lights up as Eun Hyuk’s heart rate picks up.

Out of fear, surely. He doesn’t want you to know about his issues.

“Well how about that?” The monster practically purrs. “The thing you won’t let yourself have. Won’t even admit how badly you want—”

Eun Hyuk’s not really thinking when he picks up one of his notebooks to throw it at the screen. It bounces without any effect, of course, and the monsters starts laughing once more, until that’s all Eun Hyuk can hear, while it gets louder and louder and louder and—

The door opens behind him.

“You weren’t answering—”

“Don’t—”

You freeze in the entrance.

“Don’t what?”

He knows before turning around. Of course he does. Rational, human him is deeply aware that there is no way for you to see the things that his mind is creating.

“…come in before I tell you it’s okay,” he finishes with an even voice. “If you see something you shouldn’t, I don’t want to have to deal with everyone else’s panic.”

You click your tongue at him, and he immediately hates himself for saying it. He doesn’t even mean it. You clearly have everyone’s best interests at heart, even if you believe in a very different way of handling people than he does.

“Well, I just noticed you hadn’t eaten your share yesterday,” you say, and it stings that your tone is biting, particularly when he knows how soft-spoken you can be with others. “I was bringing you something to eat.”

“You should let someone else—”

“You can’t let yourself go weak,” you reply, pushing the food in his hands and folding your arms over your chest. “You know how much people rely on you here. We may not see eye to eye, but the last thing they need is to start worrying about you and thinking you’re not able to lead them anymore.” There’s a second of silence before you add, almost as if you can’t help yourself “Also, you know I already think these rations are too small. You really shouldn’t go a day without eating at least that.”

 He glances down at what you brought. True, it’s meager, and yet he feels a smile forming as he looks at it, at the acknowledgement that you were worried about him, even if you didn’t phrase it that way.

“Thank you,” he says.

And just like that, you soften. There’s part of him that finds it ridiculous, how you’ve given him a million second chances, how he’s let you down every time, and how you keep affording them to him still. The other one is so, so infinitely thankful for your kindness.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

He sighs.

“As okay as I can be,” he answers, pushing his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. “I don’t think anyone is doing good.”

You nod gravely, then brush your hands over your jeans.

“Alright. Well then, I’ll leave you to—”

His hand shoots out to grab your wrist before he can hold it back and before you get too far away. You turn around to look at him, surprised and a little confused.

“Can you— would you mind eating with me?”

He could justify himself. Tell you he doesn’t like eating alone, even if he’s been doing it since his parents died, tell you he needs another set of eyes on the screen while he’s eating, tell you he needs to talk to you about one of the residents. He doesn’t, though. You read him a little too well, could probably tell that he’s lying. And he hopes that, with that big heart of yours, you’ll just…

“Sure,” you answer.

You grab a chair, pull it so you can sit facing him. As you sit down, your knees brush against his. The gesture feels surprisingly comfortable, in a way that he hopes doesn’t bring too much color to his cheeks.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“It gets lonely in here,” he answers, which technically isn’t a lie.

There’s a wrinkle on your forehead as you study him, one that forms whenever you’re concerned.

He’s more used to seeing the one between your eyebrows directed at him, the one that’s there when you’re annoyed.

“You can always ask me to keep you company,” you say, and his heart skips a beat. He’s sure you didn’t mean it like that, tries to pretend that it’s the monster that stirs his mind in that direction, but he knows, deep down, that that’s not the truth. That he’s actually desperate to know that someone like you could see value in someone like him.

But the truth is, if anything, you see value in everyone but him.

It doesn’t matter that you’re looking at him with these eyes, that you’re sitting with him, that you brought him food. You’re kind. You’d do that for just anyone.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he tells you flatly once he’s gotten himself back under control. “Thank you for doing that.” Then, after a moment, “Anything I should know about what’s going on out there?”

You start answering, soft voice describing all sorts of meaningless details that you’ve noticed and apparently care about. Eun Hyuk keeps his back to the cameras. He still sees, from the corner of his eye, the monster taunting him. But as long as you’re here, so real, so soft, so human, he knows he can resist its pull.

Too bad he doesn’t know how long you’ll stick around for him.

first time writing for eun hyuk and it was quite interesting to do! also i think i need to try my hand at writing him before s3 comes out lol. i hope you enjoyed it! reblogs and comments are strongly appreciated and keep me motivated and writing :)

more writing for sweet home

[neysaadept]

fic request, i read your last request fic and kinda had a slight idea. for the prompts i need you & you’re family. similar ish to the last fic but emily is struggling and trying to convince her how important she actually is

I do hope you enjoy what I came up with!

Self Surrender

Emily Prentiss x Female!Reader (Reader is a Financial Analyst)

Tags - No use of y/n, swearing, angst, established relationship. mentions of blood but not gory, hurt/comfort. Set after the events of Demonology. Minors DNI.

AO3

Word Count: 2.3k

It is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles. Then the victory is yours. It cannot be taken from you, not by angels or by demons, heaven or hell -  Buddha

It was a late day at work with a deadline that got pushed up due to military funding and the financials needed to be completed by end of day today. You enjoy crunching numbers and the beauty of spreadsheets, but this was fucking ridiculous. Yes, yes, need to keep people safe with the top-secret project you were working on at Northrup Grumman, but no one needed to baseline the damn project right now. The software design was already approved so what did it matter? Of course, you did not get paid the big bucks to make these decisions but one day, you aspired to be.

By the time you return to your town home in Westboro, MD, it was past 10pm. All you could think of was having a generous glass of wine while taking a bath to soak your stress and aches of the day away. You toss your keys and purse on a table in the foyer, lock up and reset the security system. You take off your coat and shake off the snow before hanging it up in the closet and turn on the lights. Shoes were kicked off and then you walked down the hallway into the living room to pick up the remote control on top of the fireplace. You turn on the flatscreen above on the wall and put on a classic rock station to fill your home with music, but something gives you pause before you put the remote back down.

You suddenly pivot on your feet to see what causes your senses to heighten, and there sitting on your couch dressed all in black is Emily Prentiss. Somehow you missed her when you first walked in.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Em!” You set the remote down and laugh in relief. “Scared the shit outta me.”

She doesn’t say anything but acknowledges you with her lips twisted to the side looking apologetic.

You’re delighted to see her but couldn’t fathom why Emily didn’t call or text you she was going to meet you here at your home. She was close to practically living here, which is why she had a key and the code to the town home and can truly come and go as she pleases, but something was clearly off as you approach her. She hadn’t even taken her coat or shoes off and looked distraught with brown eyes dull and introspective. What really made your heart ache was the dried blood under her nose.

“What the hell happened?!” Now you move quickly to sit beside her and immediately tilt her head to face you. You swipe your thumb above her lip and find it doesn’t come off easily. It was dried.

You frown. “What happened, baby?”

“Case was bad,” she answers in a raspy voice and gently tries to bring your hand down by the wrist. You don’t budge. “But I’m okay.”

You look at her dubiously and narrow your eyes. “Then why is my love sitting on my couch looking uncomfortable and sad?”

She shrugs as her response.

“Okay.” You are patient and lower your hands to slide the coat off her shoulders. “Take this off and I’ll go make us some tea.” You want clear heads for right now if Emily wants to talk and the tea would be soothing and warm for the weather outside.

She nods at that, and you give her a quick kiss that she returns.

The kitchen had an entrance through the living room and quickly take the stainless steel kettle off the stove top to the faucet to fill with water. You do look to your right to make sure Emily is getting comfortable and smiles that she is also taking off her shoes.

As the kettle heats up, you go into a cabinet to grab two clean kitchen towels and run one under warm water. After you rinse it out to be properly damp, you make your way back to the couch and see Emily has neatly folded her coat on the loveseat and her shoes were on the mat in front of the patio doors. What bothers you is her upright posture and her defensively crossed her arms over her stomach. She rarely does that around you anymore, but what’s worse, is she’s staring out through the patio windows. She is watching the snow come down and doesn’t realize you are back. This was so unlike her.

“Em?” you call out gently and watch as she drags her eyes towards you before her head follows. You dangle the towels before her as you sit down once again. “Let me take care of that …”

“It’s alright. I got it,” she says and reaches for the towel to do it herself. You give it up and bunch the dry towel between your hands.

You watch Emily start to dry the blood from under nose. “Wanna talk about it?” you offer as your hand goes to her thigh to squeeze in comfort. Even if she didn’t want to talk, you could offer small gestures of affection.

She doesn’t immediately say anything but when she was done cleaning herself off, Emily points to the picture on the glass coffee table. It was an old picture by the look of it, all folded up and yellow with age. You give her the dry towel to finish cleaning herself up and carefully pick up the picture, unfolding it.

You can’t help the smile that comes seeing a teenage Emily with two boys. All were smiling and had their arms up, except the boy on the right only had one. “Look at you. Still got the same smile.”

The affection you feel at Emily sharing a part of her past turns to concern because if she is showing you this with her mood clearly down, something terrible has happened. You look at her and wait, knowing she’ll speak when she’s ready.

“The picture was taken in Rome when my mother was posted there.” She rolls the wet towel into the dry one and sets them aside on the couch arm. She scoots closer and points to each boy. “That’s Matthew. And that’s Johnny.”

Emily reaches for the picture which you gladly relinquish and guides you to sit back on the couch with her. She strokes Matthew’s face with a thumb. “Matthew died.”

Your eyes widen in horror. Immediately your arm entwines Emily’s as you rest your head against her shoulder. You squeeze her forearm and respond so sadly. “I’m so sorry, Em. What happened?”

All three of them were around the same age in the picture so it had to be shocking to know someone Emily’s age had died. What you didn’t anticipate is what Emily shares next. “This case I told you I was working on …”

“Yeah,” you answer softly and then a shiver runs down your back as you understand where this was leading. “Oh, shit. I … I’m so sorry that you …” But you pause because something didn’t make sense. “I thought you couldn’t work on a case about someone you’re close to?”

That pulls a smile from her. “There’s my smart girl. You’re right. I asked the BAU to look into his death since it was under suspicious circumstances.”

“And they found out what happened?”

She briskly nods. “Yes. We did.”

You tilt your head to look at her profile with a frown. “We? Hotch let you work the case?” You lick your lips and continue softly so confused. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“It’s nothing. Really,” she states firmly.

“Okay.” You rest your head back down on her shoulder and try a different approach. “Then why did I find you in my home sitting in the dark?”

Her lips firmly press together and for a moment, you think Emily’s going to bolt. You’re upset that you were right as she starts to shift under you to untangle limbs. “You’re right. That was inconsiderate of me …”

The tea kettle begins to whistle but you ignore it for now as you hold onto her and plea. “Please don’t go.”

She stiffens under you, and you can tell Emily is weighing her options. To your relief, she settles back against the couch. “Okay,” she states so quietly that you thought you heard wrong.

“Are you in the mood for hazelnut?” you ask, hoping that you heard right.

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

You lift your head and kiss her and then her on the cheek. “I’ll be back quick.”

She squeezes your hand with acknowledgement and as a promise to not go anywhere. You head into the kitchen and turn the stove off and place the teapot on a cooler grate. You take the cream-colored mugs off the wall rack and rummage in the cupboard for the hazelnut and mint teas to steep for both of you. You came back in five minutes and Emily was anxiously waiting for you. She was aggressively going at her fingernails and your eyes move from her nervous habit to gaze at her brown ones with sympathy.

Silently you set down your respective mugs on a wooden coaster before you sit back down and take Emily’s hands in your own. You run soothing circles over dry skin from the cold outside. “Talk to me. Please?”

She looks away, eyes focusing on the hardwood floors. “This is the time I fuck up relationships.”

“What makes you think you’ve fucked up our relationship?” you ask with confusion.

Emily scowls and audibly sighs. “Because … because I should’ve told you about this when it first started happening. And … everything around it that involved me.”

You look confused but she doesn’t see it as she continues. “I’m afraid. Of losing you to something stupid I do. Or don’t do because I can’t talk about how I feel. Or even worse.” Emily’s words turn harsher as she verbally lashes herself. “That I don’t know how to talk to you about it. Which is what I did.”

You reach out and gently touch Emily’s chin, briefly caressing it, before you coax her to turn to face you. You search for her gaze, but you are unable to connect with her just yet. “You’re talking to me now.”

“But, for how long are you gonna tolerate me keeping things from you?” she admits and quietly adds at the end, “how long before you leave me…”

Your eyes water at hearing this startling admission. Never did you think Emily was afraid of you leaving her. That was your fear of her doing that to you. You frantically blink, not wanting to let her go and wipe any tears that may fall. “Em?”

She doesn’t respond verbally or physically, only staring off at the floor. “Emily. Please… please look at me?”

It takes a good long minute for her to find the strength to lift her head and shift her gaze to hold yours. What she sees makes her choke back a sob because there is nothing but love reflecting in your orbs. You smile tenderly. “I need you, Em. So, I’m not going anywhere.”

She laughs out of nerves, not believing you. “Maybe not now …”

“Hey!” You deeply frown and drop your hand to run through her hair before rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not just gonna run out on the love of my life because shit got hard. And I’m still well versed in your long ass monologue when things got serious that you’re a pain in the ass who works long hours, is out of state a lot, and has commitment issues. Oh!” You smile, almost forgetting one important part. “And that your mom’s an ass.”

She looks sheepish as she tries to bite back a laugh. “Yeah, I did say all that.” She gazes deeply into your watery eyes that couldn’t hold back tears any longer. “And you’re still here.”

You nod. “I’m still here. Four months later. Cuz, I love you, you fucking dork.”

That makes her laugh. “Tell me how you really feel.”

You know she was kidding but you answer anyway. “You’re my family, Em. Nothing’s gonna change that. And I can see how hard this is for you but I’m not going anywhere just because it gets hard talking about the past. It’s happened with me, too, and you’re still here.”

She smiles tenderly. “Yeah.”

You scoot closer to her and cup Emily’s cheek with your free hand. “We got all the time in the world to share ourselves. I’m just glad you’re here with me, tonight, instead of by yourself. And to me? That’s a brave fucking thing you’ve done, baby.”

Emily joins you in shedding tears as you watch her overcome with emotion. Her lower lip quivers and she visibly shakes, and not from the cold. You were going to bring her into a hug but instead she launches forward and captures your mouth in a fierce, grounding, kiss. It was a kiss that made your body shiver from its intensity, feeling the love Emily has for you and her need to connect physically as words were so difficult for her to find. Her kiss is also an apology and a promise to do better.

And as Emily clings to your top, you press against her while you return the kiss. Now, it was a mutual promise you both declare moving forward and as long as you both could come together like this? You two would weather any storm.

[random-thot-generator]

Don’t Leave Me Hangin’

MANDO x FEM READER

Summary: Reader gets stuck aloft in one of the Kom’rik’s cargo nets and has to call out to Mando for help. Filthy Mando smut ensues.

Warnings: explicit language, swearing, explicit sexual content, porn without plot, well, maybe a tiny little hint of plot, oral- f receiving, PiV, squirting, cum play(?), it’s messy- nuff said, Kom’rik sex, improper use of a cargo net, reader is an idiot who should think things through, Mando is an opportunist, no use of Y/N, maybe? bondage - Mando doesn’t help her out of the net like- immediately, but reader ain’t complainin’

(N/A: The brain fog has FINALLY lifted, and I wanted to write about my most recent random filthy thot. This is the result. It’s a long-ish, smutty one shot. Reader & Mando are in a situationship - friends-with-benefits type deal. I’m picturing like a live-in nanny/housekeeper kind of thing, but I don’t think I ever specified. This is post-season 3, and Mando’s living his best life on Nevarro. He and reader are in a Kom’rik, because I need room for my smut to flourish, and I didn’t want to resurrect the poor old Razor Crest from the ashes. If I missed any tags, let me know. And I hope you enjoy.)

Word Count: 4280

You really should have thought this through better.

That was your first thought after the cargo net stopped swinging, and you regained a modicum of composure. You winced at the sound of the net’s straps creaking under the strain as you tried to shift your weight and then froze. You remained completely motionless, afraid to even breathe, for several more moments.

“Shit...” you whispered in a quaking voice, peering down at the floor of the cargo hold several meters below you. You then glanced up at the winch mechanism above your head, praying it held. How in the hell were you going to get yourself out of this?

It had seemed like such a good plan at the time. You had just stepped out of the Kom’rik’s small ‘fresher, having showered and changed into your sleep shirt before bed, when you’d felt the ship drop out of hyperspace with a small lurch. You heard something clatter in the cargo hold below and blew out a tired sigh, knowing it was probably nothing but also knowing you wouldn’t be able to rest until you checked it out.

Grumbling under your breath, you had climbed down into the hold. Only the emergency lights were on, the ceiling and corners hidden in shadow, but you spotted something lying near a tier of shelves attached to the hull’s interior wall. It was one of the kid’s favorite cookies, the teal ones with the creme filling. Peering up into the gloom, you spied an opened foil sleeve of cookies perched on the edge of the highest shelf.

“How the hell did he even get up there?” you said aloud, shaking your head. Jedi training aside, the kid was far too much like his dad, a little risk-taker. You heaved a sigh, with no small amount of exasperation. 

Stars only knew what else he had left up there. Come to think of it, you had given him your datapad earlier to watch cartoons and hadn’t seen it since. Sighing in frustration, you began looking for a way to reach the top shelf. The propulsor lift was still charging, so that was a no-go, and you didn’t see a ladder of any sort that wasn’t attached to the ship already.

And then you had spied the cargo net.

It was dangling by its hooks from a mechanized winch and pulley system attached to the ceiling. It was used to keep extra containers suspended above the floor to free up space, its track running the entire circuit of the area for maneuverability and convenience. Designed to hold several hundred kilograms, you were certain it could support your own weight. You could use it to lift yourself up to the shelf, retrieve whatever was up there and then lower yourself back to the ground. Easy peasy, jogan squeezy.

Detaching the control pad for the winch from the wall, you climbed inside the net, lacing an arm through the holes for a better grip, and then planted your bare feet on the cross sections of the heavy straps. It was a bit shaky at first, but once you gained your balance, you quickly ascended until you were at eye level with the top shelf. Tucking the control pad under your chin, you reached up to feel your datapad under your fingertips and sniffed in amusement. You’d have to give Grogu a good talking-to in the morning, but for now you at least had your datapad back. Slipping it and the sleeve of cookies off the shelf, you shuffled the objects around, your grip on the net slackening.

It was then that the Kom’rik made another jump into hyperspace, making the ship jolt with the transition. You shrieked when the net began to swing wildly, feet slipping out from under you as you let go of everything in your hands to hang on for dear life. Panting for breath, heart thundering in your chest, you clung like a monkey-lizard to the straps and prayed the net didn’t break.

So, there you were, hanging above the hold like a piece over-ripe fruit, arms and legs entangled in the net with no way down, because, of course, you had dropped the winch’s control pad when you dropped everything else. You could see it lying on the floor below you, right next to the broken casing of your datapad.

“Shit!” you repeated, leaning your forehead against the straps and huffing out an angry breath. Could this situation get any worse, you wondered. You’d have to yell for Mando to come get you down, which you weren’t looking forward to, but who knew how long it would take before he even came back this way? What if decided to just sleep in the cockpit? Would you end up hanging there all night?

The thought made your awkward position in the net feel even more uncomfortable. Your feet had slipped through the holes, so your legs were now dangling under you, the straps cutting into the tender meat of your thighs. One of your arms was still threaded through the net while the other one was pinned close to your side. You could feel the cold air of the hold settling into your bones and making you shiver, the thin material of the tunic doing little to stave off the chill.

You knew that the longer you hung there, the colder you were going to get, the number your limbs were going to grow. Your feet were already stinging and your teeth chattering. There was no help for it. You had to call for Mando.

“MANDO!!!”

Your voice bounced back at you, making your flinch. Holding your breath, you waited to hear his boots thudding against the metal floor overhead, but nothing. He hadn’t heard you.

“MAANN-DDOO! HEEELP!”

You waited. Still nothing.

Oh, stars, maybe he had fallen asleep in the cockpit. after all. With the door sealed, he would never hear you. Panic began to creep in, shortening your breath as it constricted your lungs.

“MANDO! PLEASE! I’M STUCK IN THE HOLD! MAN-DOO!!!”

“What the hell are you doing?”

You heard his voice coming through the ship’s comm system and could have cried in relief. You’d forgotten the cams located throughout the ship. Stars, he’d probably been watching you this whole time. You were never in danger.

“I... I’m stuck, Mando.”

A gravelly bark echoed in the hold before turning to static. Great. He was laughing at you. “Obviously. Listen, I need to recheck the coordinates in navi and set the autopilot, then I’ll come get you down. Just, uh, hang tight,” he drawled, another garbled sound slipping out of his vocoder.

You bit your tongue to keep from saying something you might regret. You were in no position to taunt or snark back at him right now. “Fine,” you mumbled, and slumped into the net.

It was only a few minutes before the sound of his heavy boots were thudding across the metal floor above you, his footsteps music to your ears. You heard the clang of his armor hitting against the ladder before he slid down into view, feet landing with a solid thump in the hold. He approached at a leisurely pace, seemingly in no hurry, then stopped to stare up at you. His helmet tilted back, black visor glinting in the low light. Planting his hands on his hips, he tipped his head, first to one side and then to the other.

“M-Mando? What’re you doing? Can you get me down now, please?”

Mando hummed, his stance shifting. His arms dropped down to his sides, hands curling into fists. “You must be getting pretty cold, huh?”

You bunched your brows up in consternation. “Um... yeah? It’s fr-freezing down here.”

He nodded slowly, keeping his visor trained on you. “Hmm. Thought so. You’re not wearing anything but my old tunic. It’s not covering much. Is it?”

You quirked a brow at the change in his voice. His smooth baritone had dropped an octave or three, and it had a distinctive husk to it now. His tone was the one he used when the two of you were alone with the lights off and he was taking you apart, dark and sinfully seductive. It made you squirm despite your precarious position, and the net began to slowly sway back and forth. The edge of a strap slid into the crease where your thigh met your hip, and you felt your lower lips part. A low groan issued from his vocoder. Your mouth fell open.

Sweet Maker, your pussy was on full display for him. You hadn’t bothered with underwear after your shower, planning on putting on a clean pair once you got back to your sleeping quarters. Heat surged through your body, both from embarrassment and unexpected arousal.

“Mando...” Your voice sounded so small and breathy in the cavernous space.

“I can see everything, pretty girl,” he told you, taking an unconscious step closer. He was almost directly under you now, peering straight up at your exposed sex. Mortified, you felt the slow trickle of your arousal easing out of your channel. You weren’t dripping, not yet, but the thought of him standing beneath you, staring at your most vulnerable parts had your breath panting out in little puffs. “You... Are you going to... get me down, now?”

You heard the back of his gauntlet scrape the metal floor as he picked up the control pad for the winch. His breath was rasping through his vocoder, the sound of leather creaking as he moved underneath you. You felt the winch catch and then begin to whir as the net began to lower back to the floor.

“Thank the stars,” you whispered, anxious to be back on solid ground again.

You didn’t quite make it, though. You were still a few meters above the floor when the winch came to a sudden stop, leaving you to sway like the pendulum of a run-down clock. “M-Mando?”

“Look so pretty like this, sweet girl,” he murmured below you, and you felt his gloved fingers trail across the back of your thigh. You gasped at the contact. “Close your eyes,” he husked out, voice gone to gravel.

You didn’t even bother to ask why, just snapped your eyes shut and held your breath, waiting. You heard the slap of leather on the floor, guessing it must be his gloves he’d just taken off, and then you felt his bare fingers tracing the straps that dug into your thighs. His fingertips grazed along the edge where the strap met the skin, the sensation making you tense as heat spiraled in your belly, diffusing through your pelvis to spread in a hot rush of slick that trickled out to cool along the petals of your open folds.

“Oh, mesh’la,” Mando cooed, dark and low. “You’re dripping for me, pretty girl.”

A whine escaped your lips, breath catching in your throat as you felt his fingers slide through your arousal, gathering your essence on his fingertips. There was the pneumatic hiss of air as his helmet disengaged and then the ring of beskar ricocheted around the hold as he dropped it to the floor. You could hear the lewd, wet noises he made as he suckled his own fingers, moaning at the taste of you.

“Don’t move, baby girl.”

“Oh, Maker...” you whimpered in a quaking whisper.

You could feel your walls clenching in anticipation. Mando had never used his mouth on you before, said he’d never gone down on anyone before, but as the winch whirred back into motion only to grind to a stop again a moment later, you guessed you were about to find out if this would be his first time.

When you felt his hair tickle the backs of your thighs, an eruptive shudder passed through your entire body. When his nose grazed over your clit, you jolted in the confines of the straps hard enough to send the net swaying, but he caught you and brought you back to center.

“Sh-shh... Easy, baby girl. I got you...” He paused, sniffed. “Fuck, you smell so good,” he hissed out in a rush, and you heard him inhale, could feel his nose right at your parted lips. It was so filthy, so obscene, what he was doing, but it made you quiver with lust, just the same.

His hands came up to grip your ankles, holding you in place. “That’s better,” he murmured, hot breath gusting over your damp folds, eliciting another shiver from you. “Let me hear you, pretty girl. Want to know how good I’m making you feel. Okay?”

You nodded your head furiously, swallowing in an attempt to bring a bit of moisture back into your parched mouth. “Y-Yeah. Okay, Mando.” You didn’t even care that it came out as a whine.

The first touch of his tongue had you choking on air, hips stuttering, not sure whether to rock forward or away from the lapping muscle, but his strong hands held you fast, not letting your squirm away. He dragged his tongue in a slow, hot line from your entrance to your clit, and you moaned like a porn star. You could feel his cheeks bunch up as he grinned at your reaction, and then he flicked his tongue over your pulsing clit again, pulling a sputtering,” Ha-aaa-aaah!” from your gaping mouth.

“You like it when I do that?” he purred lowly into your folds. “What about when I do this?” He enveloped the sensitive bud with his lips, tongue flickering over it with feather-light touches, making you writhe and grind against his mouth. He groaned, then suctioned his lips around it and sucked, pressing his tongue firmly against it. Your plaintive wail echoed throughout the ship.

“Fuck me...” he moaned, panting for breath, his voice shaking. He was completely wrecked. With a desperate snarl, he dove back in with a vengeance, tongue laving your inner folds, twirling around your entrance, lapping at your juices before kissing and sucking at your puffy, parted lips. He was devouring you whole, winding the coil in your core into a taut vibrating spring of tension. Your thighs were shaking uncontrollably, your breaths wheezing out of your lungs in desperate pants.

“Mando! Mando, I...” 

You couldn’t even voice a coherent thought, couldn’t tell him what was about to happen, but he seemed to understand, nevertheless. His fingers slid along your pulsing folds to catch at the rim of your entrance, circling it once before slipping inside. Your walls immediately clamped onto the digits, muscles undulating to pull them deeper. He growled at the feeling and latched onto your clit again crooking his fingers in a come-hither motion, the strokes sharp and quick as they tapped out a devastating tattoo against the spongy membrane of your G-spot.

The world went white behind your pinched eyelids, and you weren’t even aware of the choked scream that tore out of your throat as you were blindsided by your orgasm. The spring in your core gave way with a snap and warmth flooded from your center to gush out around his fingers and over his arm, splattering his lower face, cowl and chest plate.

“Ha!” he crowed. “That’s it! Fuck yes!”

You were barely hanging on, your very bones liquefied as you twitched and groaned with each consecutive pulse of your climax. If you had oozed out through the holes in the net to pool at his feet, you wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised.

“So fuckin’ good, for me. Look at that. Fuck, I need — nngh!”

You heard the motor of the winch whir back into life, then felt the cold sensation of the floor touch the bottom of your feet. You couldn’t have held up your own weight if your life depended on it, however, and so folded up with the netting as it came to rest on the floor. Strong hands lifted you out the mess of straps, hands moving over you, manipulating you as he whispered feverish words in Mando’a  like some fervent benediction.

You felt your back come to rest on top of the netting, the worn fabric of his cape spread out beneath you to serve as a barrier against the rough material. You had yet to open your eyes, jaw slack as you floated somewhere high above your physical body in a state of pure bliss.

Mando placed his calloused hand over your eyes, unwilling to test fate more than he already had. He felt crazed, rabid with lust, his only desire to be buried balls-deep in your cunt.

“Need to feel you, sweet girl,” he gasped at your ear, his breath stuttering against your neck. “Please, I need — “

“Yes! Stars, please, Mando. Want to feel you inside me. Do it...”

He whimpered as he lifted himself away long enough to scrabble at the closure of his pants, shoving them down with his underwear to the top of his thigh plates, a frustrating exercise to complete one-handed. When his cock sprang free of its confines, he moaned in relief, pumping it roughly a couple of times as he spread his leaking precrum over the head with his thumb. With a grunt, he fell between your thighs, notching himself at your entrance, inhaling a deep breath before he sank into your greedy, grasping cunt with an audible squelch.

“Fuuuckin’ hellll...” he moaned out as he slid inside your fluttering walls, grunting again when he felt them collapse around his cock and seize it in a vice grip. It was a struggle to draw himself back, the sensation making his balls draw up tight against his body. “Too good... too tight... Gonna make me cum...” he mumbled under his breath, fighting off his orgasm. When he had withdrawn a about halfway, he couldn’t stand it anymore and plunged back in, thrusting hard enough to shift the netting beneath you.

You sobbed, the feeling of being so full overwhelming, your shaking legs coming up to wrap around his hips, ankles locking over the flexing muscles of his ass. He was driving into you with abandon, the toes of his boots squeaking on the floor to find purchase, bracing his body against yours. His other arm he shoved under your back, fingers hooking over your shoulder to pull you down on his cock to meet each hard thrust. He was growling, muttering curses in multiple languages, hissing as you clenched and pulsed around him.

“Ah, fuck, sweet girl, I’m gonna — Shit! Fuck, baby, where do you want — “

“Inside... Want to feel you cum in me...” you moaned out, another orgasm rising like a massive wave in your core. “Ah, fuck!” you whined.

Your words snapped that last thread of control he had, and he surged forward, thrusting in wild, arhythmic strokes that sent you careening over the edge. Your climax washed over you like a euphoric wave, slow and liquid, a golden warmth that engulfed your lower half before spreading like molten honey.

Mando could feel your walls clamp down and spasm, milking his cock, drawing him in deeper. He threw his head back and came with a bellow, a primal, jagged roar of triumph. His chest lifted as his back arched, his cock exploding inside your walls, pumping ribbons of his thick seed deep into your hungry cunt.

He barely managed to throw an arm out to catch himself before falling forward. He was trembling above you. and when his elbow buckled, his head fell to your chest. His nose was smooshed into the side of your breast, his panting breaths teasing the sensitive bud of your nipple into a hard little nub beneath the thin material of his tunic. He gave a dazed grin at the sight, wishing he had the energy to take it in his mouth, but he wasn’t sure he could even lift his head yet.

“Stars, pretty girl. I think you’ve killed me.”

A breathless wheeze of laughter burst out of your chest, and you reached up to pull down the hand now splayed limp over your face to your lips. You left a lingering kiss in the palm as you crooked your other arm over your eyes, just so the temptation to peek wouldn’t get the best of you. You felt him lift his head with reluctance, his weight shifting, before his lips pressed to yours in a sweet, chaste kiss.

“You alright? I know I went pretty hard this time. I didn’t mean to lose it like that, but — “

Your hand came up to touch his face, landing on his neck instead. You slid it upward to cup his jaw, the feel of his patchy beard against your palm endearing. “Don’t you dare apologize,” you told him and drew him down for another kiss. “It was perfect. The best I’ve ever had,” you whispered against his lips.

He sighed, smiling against your mouth in relief and pleasure. When he shifted again, he saw you grimace. “Did I hurt you, sweet girl?” he rushed to ask, lifting his weight off you.

You giggled and shook your head. “No, it’s not that. There’s something cold and sticky all over your chest plate. It feels... icky.”

He glanced down to see your release from earlier smeared over his beskar, and he chuckled, low and dirty. “That’s your fault,” he teased. “You drowned me when you came the first time.”

Your mouth dropped open and, if not for his hand coming down to hold your arm in place, you would have jerked it away from your eyes to stare at him in shock. “I did not!” you gasped. mortified.

“Oh, you did, pretty girl,” he crooned. “I want to make you do it again.”

“What? N-Now?!”

A full-on laugh rumbled out of his chest this time. “No, sweet girl. As much as I’d love to, I don’t either one of us is going to be able to go another round after that last one.”

“Oh, thank the Maker,” you blurted out, and then winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean —”

He sniffed in amusement and pecked you on the lips. “I know what you meant, mesh’la.” Sitting back on his knees, he rubbed at his face, grinning at the sticky feel of your spend drying in his mustache. He was positively covered in your cum, and he fucking loved it. His poor cock gave a valiant twitch before he tucked it back into his pants and stood. “C’mon, sweet girl. Let’s get in the shower.” He retrieved his helmet, slipping it back on before bending to take you by the hand.

You groaned. “Just lemme sleep here. Can’t move right now.”

“You’ll freeze down here,” he chided you. “Now come on. I’ll help you.”

You whined as he hauled you onto your feet, and you staggered on your shaking legs. He shook his head and turned his back to you, bending his knees slightly. “Hop on. I’ll carry you up the ladder. Otherwise, we will be down here all night.”

You made a face at him, but wrapped your arms around his neck anyway, making a weak hop to get onto his back. Grasping your thighs, he hitched you up a little higher and stood, then trudged towards the ladder at the opposite end of the hold.

“Oh, stars,” you moaned out behind him, dropping your forehead to his back. “Do you think we woke Grogu? We were, uh... ahem... We were, you know, a little loud,” you whispered.

“Well, the ship’s still flying, and I didn’t hear anything break while we were down here, so I’m going to say no.”

You giggled. “He’s gonna get it tomorrow morning,” you vowed. “He was the reason I got caught up in that stupid net in the first place. He somehow managed to get on that top shelf with a whole sleeve of cookies and my datapad.” You paused, moaned again. “Shit. My datapad. It broke when I dropped it.”

“Don’t worry, mesh’la. We’ll get you another one, and I’ll talk to Grogu myself tomorrow morning, right after breakfast. Okay?”

You sighed, a little grin tugging at your lips. “Okay.” You heaved a sigh, tightening your grip when Mando started to climb up the ladder. “I know one thing. I’m burning that stupid net when we get back to Nevarro.”

Mando huffed and shook his head. “Like hell you are. We’re bringing that home with us. It’s going up in the bedroom, right above the bed.”

You gasped in shock, rearing your head back. “Mando!”

His rumbling chuckle bounced off the metal walls of the ship, and a warmth like the sun bloomed in your chest as a smile as big as the Dune Sea spread across your face.

“Okay, fine. We’ll discuss the cargo net later. But right now, I want a shower.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mando purred, and you could hear the grin in his voice. Taking your hand, he led you into the ‘fresher.

Despite Mando’s earlier doubts, you found out that you both did indeed have another round left in you.

(End notes: Just wanted to mention @saradika because she created the dividers and banners I’m using. She makes them for free. You can check out her masterlist on her blog. Her fics are *chef’s kiss* too.) 

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

G🎸🥵🎀

Golden boy

Words: 989

Rated: E

Tags: Post-Vecna; Established relationship; Scars; Trauma; Dom!Eddie; Sub;Steve; Collars; Leashes; Choking; Butt plugs; Edging; Kink negotiation; Stoplight system

“Oh,” Eddie says, like he only just remembered. “I got you something from Indy.” 

Steve blinks sluggishly. He’s slipped into that pleasant, floaty headspace that he’s only ever able to find with Eddie. Everything is fuzzy around the edges, even the movie they’ve put on reduced to a dull drone in the background. He can't for the life of him remember which one it is. 

“Hm?” he murmurs - a barely there hum against Eddie’s skin, where his face is tugged into the crook of his neck. “Like a gift? ‘s not even my birthday.” 

“Oh,” Eddie chuckles, fingers tracing down the scars on Steve's back, coming to rest on the curve of his ass. “But what better way to spend that gig money than a present for my good boy? You've been good, haven't you, Stevie?” 

His hand slides between Steve’s ass cheeks and Steve gasps. 

“Yes. Yes, I've been good.” 

“Shhh, baby, I know you have,” Eddie coos, lightly flicking the base of the plug. Steve moans but doesn't buck, even though his naked cock is starting to strain against the fabric of Eddie’s jeans. “Wearing this for me, not touching yourself all week. You've been so, so good for me. And good boys get rewards, yeah?” 

He retrieves something from the sofa cushions and presses it into Steve’s hands. A flat, black box. It’s wrapped in a broad gold ribbon made of delicate tulle. It shimmers in the low light as Steve pulls open the knot, and for a second he's afraid it'll come apart under his touch. He can feel Eddie’s eyes on him, dark and intense, as he lifts the lid off the box. 

Inside, nestled on a velvet pillow, is a collar. Soft, tan leather with a gold buckle and a little o-ring to match. Steve’s stomach drops right out of his body.

“I- … no,” he hears himself murmur. “No way, I'm not doing that.” 

He doesn't even realize he's been trying to scramble off Eddie’s lap before those calloused fingers are on his hips, steadying him with gentle pressure. Not enough to keep him from getting away, should he put his mind to it. Just a firm, grounding reminder that Eddie has got him, that he's safe. 

“Woah,” Eddie mutters. “Okay, I think we need a check-in. Color?” 

Steve swallows and feels his throat bop around the lump that has lodged itself in there.

“Yellow? Listen, I'm sorry, I know we talked about this and I said I thought I might like it, but-” 

“But the real thing is different from the thought?” Eddie's voice is a low, soothing murmur. His thumbs are massaging little circles into the skin over Steve’s hip bones. 

“Yeah,” Steve says. Licks his lips. His eyes flicker back to the collar. “No. I dunno, it's weird. I thought I could do it, but …” 

He trails off, fingers brushing absentmindedly over the scar on his neck. Eddie’s eyes follow the movement and Steve's stomach coils with embarrassment. He knows Eddie has been looking forward to this all week, at least as much as himself. Way to ruin the mood. 

“I'm sorry,” he says again. “I should be over it by now.” 

Eddie shakes his head, smile fond, and sets the box with the collar aside. “Nah, big boy. You'll be ready when you're ready. Doesn't matter if that's next month, or next year, or never at all. Okay?” 

Steve nods, breathless, speechless. Something soft blooms in his chest, settling warm and tight in his abdomen as Eddie pulls him in for a kiss. 

“What do you like about it?” 

“Huh?” Steve says. Eddie has pulled back just enough to speak. Steve can feel the shape of the words against his lips.

“If you wanted to try this, that means there must be something you like about the idea. Tell me what it is?” 

Steve wets his lips.

“I, um … I like the idea of being yours, I guess. Of you putting something on me to remind me of that. To remind me you're in control.”

“I see,” Eddie hums. And then his fingers wrap around Steve's throat, a barely there pressure against his pulse, and Steve freezes. “So, how's this, color-wise?” 

“Green,” Steve gasps. His hips start rolling of their own accord, flushed cock grinding into Eddie’s lap. “So very fucking green. Eddie, please-” 

Eddie uses the hand against his throat to guide him into another kiss. Holds him in place while he takes his sweet time coaxing Steve’s lips apart, fucking his tongue into his mouth with slow, languid motions. It takes a long while until he allows them to part for breath, and even longer for Steve’s vision to swim back into focus. 

When it does, Eddie's hand is no longer on his throat. Instead, it's dangling the golden tulle ribbon between them, light and transparent as air. 

“Green,” Steve is whispering before he even knows he's made the decision. “Green, green, green. Fuck, Eddie, please!” 

The fabric feels cool and ticklish as it settles against his skin, and he knows that one sudden move would be all it takes to free himself. Also knows he’d never want to break free. Not when Eddie’s eyes are full of that burning adoration, not when it feels so good, being at his mercy.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes. He lets the long ends of the ribbon rest in his hand, like a leash. “You look amazing in gold.”

“Y-yeah?” Steve asks. He feels dizzy - drunk in the best possible way. He's naked and collared and completely in Eddie’s control, and he never wants to be anywhere else. 

“Oh yeah,” Eddie agrees. “But you know where you'd look even better?” 

He tugs on the makeshift leash, smile turning sharp when Steve moans in response. 

“On your knees between my legs, hands behind your back.” 

Oh, right. Turns out there is a place Steve would like to be even better. 

More celebration ficlets

[miraclewoozi]

[ 22:38 ] - b.sk

pairing : seungkwan x fem reader. content : smut. literal pwp. (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT.) w/c : 1.5k. notes : i’m down horrendous for boo seungkwan and his fucking hands. what else is new? SMUT TAGS UTC.  notes 2.0 : my first timestamp! wow. how fun. (i honestly just needed to get this out of my system, so. sorry about it.) boosadans, u guys are are so starved. pls accept this little token of my love to you.

smut tags : soft!dom seungkwan, sub!reader. swearing (obv). physical restraining (if you squint there’s maybe the tiniest implication of a size kink but not really?), some possessiveness but it’s minimal and mc likes it, unwrapped piv sex (he pulls out but still. be safe out there team), nipple play, clit stimulation, praise, pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart), some orgasm control. LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT ANYTHING.

Both of your wrists fit so perfectly in just one of his hands. 

It’s the best revelation he’s ever made. In the months you’ve been together, there have never really been any true power dynamics at play in the bedroom, both of you always too caught up trying to please instead of dominate. But when you release your hands from where they’ve been tangled in his hair and they fall onto the mattress just above your head, something clicks inside him. Seungkwan finds himself now gently pinning your arms down to your bed sheets as he leans over you, his long fingers spread wide to keep you in place, his hips rocking against you rhythmically. Just hard enough to rile you up. Just a little too slow to have you shaking.

It’s perfect, Seungkwan thinks, because it keeps his other hand free to use however he desires. He can cup your cheek, and murmur ‘my pretty baby’ at you as your eyes roll back into your head. He can toy with your nipples, if he wants, and tell you how perfect your tits look when he thrusts hard enough to make them bounce. He can grip your waist, holding you still as he fucks into you slightly rougher, watching your smooth skin depress under his touch. 

He can even tease his fingers over your clit and make you squeeze your sweet little pussy around his cock. That’s his favourite, he thinks. By the way you react, it might just be yours, too. 

“Harder,” you gasp as he readjusts his hold on your wrists, and he looks down his nose at you with that raised eyebrow, sideways smirk signature he has. You swallow, biting your lip briefly before you say, “fuck— please, Kwannie. Hold them tighter.”

“Oh, princess,” he coos, cock throbbing at how you sound so angelic and beautifully fucked out. More-so as you whine in desperation when his fingers curl more harshly, giving you enough pressure to immobilise your hands entirely. “Is this it? This how you like it?”

“Yes,” you tell him, nodding and tugging against his hold, testing it, but it’s to no avail as he presses you further into the sheets, rolling your clit now between his thumb and forefinger on his other hand. “Fuck, I’m—”

“Not yet,” he interrupts you, shaking his head with a pout that you’re almost inclined to believe is condescending. “You can’t come yet, okay?” 

Well, fuck. You’ve never been too good at holding your orgasms off, and thankfully Seungkwan has very, very rarely asked you to try. He loves the way you feel around him when you unravel, and he’s always so eager to get you off before he does that the moment you tell him you’re close, it’s music to his ears. You’re just so velvety around him. So warm and wet and he sometimes feels bad that he can’t always last that long, but it’s all your fault for being so damn perfect.

You try your best, but you don’t even have anything to grab onto. You can only ball your hands into fists to try and anchor yourself as he snaps and snaps and snaps his hips into you, as he pinches and massages at the bundle of nerves between your thighs. That little smirk makes a comeback on his features, but you don’t notice. Not until —

“Wish you could see yourself right now,” he sighs as he angles his thrusts a little bit deeper and your eyes fly open, your lips parting in a squeak of surprise at how far up in your stomach you feel him. “God, you’re doing so well, baby. Feels like this pussy was made for me.”

It makes your head spin. This is the first time he’s ever said anything like this in bed — he’s usually so… shy, so decorous. But thinking about how every vein in his cock must surely leave imprints on your insides, how the fucking your cunt takes multiple times a week makes you inarguably his? You’ve only ever been turned off by a possessive man, before now, yet this, from your usually so sweet boyfriend? Sends pulse after pulse of pleasure straight to your core. 

You think you need to try and bring this out in him more often. 

Talking back to him is a waste of the effort you’re using to try and hold yourself back from the edge, so you just nod, pinching your lips together as you swallow the words. The issue here, though, is that in your silence, your ears are left to pick up on every single other thing. The lewd sounds of your hole sucking him in over and over. The way your old bed frame squeaks with every single movement. His breathy sighs and moans. The slap of skin on skin when he eventually uses that free hand to hike your left leg up around his waist and he manages to get even closer, still. 

“Please tell me you’re—” you start to say, the fire inside you warmer than it’s ever been without you letting it consume you. “I don’t know if I can…”

“You really need it, huh?” he asks, dipping down to kiss your lips softly, slowing until he almost stops. “You gonna come?”

“Please,” you beg, trying to move beneath him, trying to fuck yourself on his length. You’re so close. You just need a little more. “Please, please, please—”

He lets go of your wrists altogether and immediately, you wrap your arms around him, pressing your fingertips into his back as he settles back into a delicious rhythm. 

“Okay,” is all he says, the word hot as it fans over your parted lips, as his exhale disappears into your mouth. But it’s all he needs to say. Frankly, it’s all he gets the chance to; it happens before you’re ready, before you can communicate it, even though you’ve spent what feels like forever being built up to this. All of your muscles stiffen as it hits you and you’re seeing stars behind your tightly closed eyelids. Your breaths escape you in a series of moans and whines, each inhale more like a gasp. He feels you clenching around him, feels how you try to pull his whole weight down against your stomach, feels how much wetter your cunt gets and how your leg tightens around his waist to try and keep him buried inside you. 

It almost tips him over the edge, too, and even though he stills, he finds himself having to go back naming all of his highschool teachers in his head just to try and keep a shred of composure while your walls do their best to milk him dry. Thankfully, it doesn’t take too long for your arms to go slack around him, and (though reluctantly) he hurries to pull out of you. Seungkwan takes his cock into his hand instead and he fucks into his fist at the same pace as before – and no, it’s not as plush or warm or tight as you, but it doesn’t need to be. You take him to the point of no return every time — this just needs to be enough, and wow, it is. In seconds, his balls tighten and his forehead scrunches and he grunts as he releases in spurts all over your stomach.

He comes, and he comes, and it feels a bit like he’s never going to stop coming. But whenever it does end, when his agonisingly sensitive length starts to soften, and squeezing out every last drop onto your waiting body is almost an impossible task, he feels exhausted. He made such a mess. It’s everywhere. All on his hand, on the sheets, on you; you’re lying there looking so fucking pretty, breathing like you’ve just finished a race, and your belly is pearlescent with his cum, and all he wants to do is go to sleep. 

But you half-sit up and reach out to him, taking hold of his wrist, now. He lets you (he’d let you do anything in these afterglow moments, and he knows that you know it too), softening the muscles in his arm to straighten at the elbow, and he watches you. Watches you drag your tongue over the skin between his thumb and his pointer finger. Watches as you lap up and swallow back the cum he was about to get up to wipe up with a tissue. Watches as you clean up every trace he left of his orgasm on his own hand, before you flop back onto the pillows, giggling and licking over your kiss-swollen lips. 

He almost feels like he could get hard again at the sight of it. But — much to his own dismay — Seungkwan’s refractory period has never been quick. Even if he did pop another hard-on right now, he knows he’d be way too sensitive to do anything with it. 

“You can’t do that to me,” he pouts, leaning over you to the bedside cabinet to grab a few tissues to start cleaning you up. “Not without a warning.”

"A warning wouldn't help and you know it," you tease him. He gives a 'hmmph', pulling a few free from the box and rolling his eyes as you squirm, ticklish when he starts to wipe his release from you. “You’d whine about it anyway.”

“I don’t whine,” he-… well. “Come on. Get up — bathroom, baby.”

You think that this is supposed to be distracting, to stop you being able to call him out for his immediate contradiction. On the other hand, maybe this is just his way of looking after you — it could be both, even. But you reach both arms up, first, silently asking him to come down to you one more time. He does, rolling his eyes and meeting you in another kiss, the tissues still scrunched up in his palm.

“Two minutes?” You ask, locking him into a cuddle he could probably escape from, if his strength ever happened to overpower the love he has for you. Yet, he rolls onto his back and tosses the tissues with alarming accuracy into the bin next to your dresser, pulling you into his chest.

“One and a half,” he agrees, nodding up at the ceiling.

He can never say no to you. Not especially when you hum into his collarbone and drag your fingers down his arm to take hold of his (clean) hand.

thank u sm for reading!! as always, likes, reblogs & feedback are all greatly appreciated.<3

[dirtbag-dyke-hypnotist]

Introductions are in order, I suppose.

Lore, (Dr.) Adrastea, and Percy are our names. Lore is preferred, but we will tell you which to use if needed.

21, genderweird, plural, kinky bi/ace domme, @spiraleyedlore is my main.

Minors dni, cis man doms you aint wanted here.

Everything you see here is fantasy. I will be posting some very intense stuff here, but let it be known it doesn't reflect my real political or philosophical beliefs. If it still pisses you off, you might be the problem, not me. Every post is also from the perspective of Me as the domme, unless i actively say otherwise. Make sure you read everything here before dming me.

Don't fucking add extra "oh this is totally me" shit to my original posts (and id prefer if you didnt do it in general tbh). Its about Me, not you. And don't fuckin call Me titles out of the blue, you may call Me a title once you've earned it, with the only exception being Goddess. If you read this, tell me your regular drink order when you go to a cafe.

Now that pet peeves and general stuff is out of the way, kink likes and dislikes are under the cut. Keep in mind, this list is always updating and being elaborated on.

Obsessed:

Hypnosis, mind control, possession (as in ghost stuff), memory play, worship, personality play

Love em:

Drone stuff, tech control, genderplay, orientation play (esp just altering peoples sexuality to be just Me), forcefem/forcemasc, ego death and rewriting, hypnotized service (making people draw or write or do other things for me), cnc, intox (weed or alcohol, though i am open to other things!), dollification

Like em:

detrans (never permanent), rapeplay, fauxcest (esp sister stuff), cuck, findom, bimboification, boot stuff, emotional sadism, dombreaking

Occasionally in the mood (ask before engaging in it)

physical sadism, possessiveness (needs to be close, genuine, and im allowed to act on it partly, not just a scene thing), petplay, ageplay, mommy kink, vore, musk/scent kink, class play

Not into it:

feet, breeding, pregnancy, feeder/feedee, extreme inflation/extremely large parts, actual incest kink

Dont bring it up around me (i might block you if your posting this, nothing personal. this isnt a dni)

hdg aka human domestication guide (for personal association reasons), sissy anything, eating disorder kinks, watersports, scat, ab/dl, raceplay, real sexism and transphobia, b*mb* sl**p

Ask me to tag stuff!! If you want me to tag a certain kink I regularly post, ask or dm me and I will try my best to tag it. Also, if I have you blocked on my main but you wish to be unblocked, send an anon with your blog you want unblocked, and I might unblock it if I'm feeling merciful~

I use a modified stoplight system for check ins during scenes. I will either ask directly, or use a stoplight emoji to ask how you are feeling! If you aren't familiar with it, green means continue on, yellow means to take a minute and check in/slow down, and red means to stop completely. I will always respect these, no matter how intense the scene is. I also use blue, which you can use if you like the specific thing I am doing and want more. If you read this far, tell me a fun fact when you first dm me. Never be afraid to use these in scene, I would rather know you are comfortable during the scene.

Remember that kink isn't reality. I am still a person behind this screen, and you are too. I will play an exaggerated version of ourself here, and let my most controversial kinks be known. I try to be safe with my kink play, but I practice RACK and know that some kinks may come with inherent risks.

Final rules! Be respectful, don't lie to me (if you break my trust im not fuckin with you anymore), and don't be an actual bigot. Now go have some fun, n get a little bit Worse for Me~

[ellethespaceunicorn]

An Angel Without Wings

Title: An Angel Without Wings

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Frank Castle x Unnamed!Black!OFC

Fandom: The Punisher

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: When she needs him to take control, he’s there for her.

Warnings: pet name (Angel), Sir kink, male!Dom/fem!Sub, slight hair pulling, spanking, vaginal fingering, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids, aftercare

A/N: I’ve never written for Frank Castle. But I had a dream about him out of nowhere. And now you get fic loosely based on that dream. So, yeah. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

The jingle of keys in the front door alerts her to his arrival. Her knees ache from where she kneels on the hardwood flooring. Gooseflesh appears everywhere her leather and mesh lingerie set doesn’t cover. In her outstretched hands is her collar, a thin piece of black leather with a dangling tag that reads Angel. She keeps her eyes downcast until she has permission to look upon him. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices her in the dimly lit apartment. He doesn’t acknowledge her at first. He sets his keys down on the table by the door, toes off his boots, and hangs his jacket on the coat rack. Turning around slowly, he pushes up the sleeves of his henley and walks towards her.

Studying her face, he can tell she longs for this. She wants to relinquish control, but more importantly, she needs him to take it from her. 

Coming to a standstill in front of her, he looks over her body as her eyes stay on the space between them. He picks up the collar and bends forward to secure it around her neck before walking around and placing his hands on her shoulders. Her smooth brown skin under his calloused tan hands is a stark contrast.

“Who are you?” His gruff voice fills the empty room.

“Angel,” she says, placing the backs of her hands on her thighs. She stares at her palms.

“That’s right. Who am I?” He asks, hooking a finger under one bra strap and sliding it across her skin.

“Sir,” she replies.

“Good girl. Now, do you remember our system?” He challenges, the pad of one thumb pressing into the side of her neck as his fingers move to wrap around.

“Green for go. Yellow for slow down. Red for stop, Sir,” she breathes, lifting her chin slightly as his hand closes around her throat.

Leaning forward, he whispers in her ear, “That’s my sweet Angel. I wanna see this pretty little thing you’re wearing for me. Stand up.”

“Yes, Sir,” she answers, raising her body to her full height while Frank mirrors her movement. She stands in front of him, close enough to feel his body heat on her back. Close enough that his breath on her neck makes her shiver.

With his left hand still around her throat, his right hand is left to explore her body. He can feel her pulse quickening under his thumb, relishing his effect on her. 

He closes the small gap between them and toys with the waistband of her thong. His fingers follow from her thong to the garter belt she is wearing, the thick mesh straps connecting to a strip of leather sitting perfectly around her curvy thighs. He switches directions, his hand ghosting over her fabric-covered mound on its way past her tummy to her pendulous breasts that are accentuated by the mesh bra with cutouts. Groping each breast, he gives them both ample attention. Sliding his thumb back and forth against the nipples, he grows harder at the sound of her whimpers. 

Loosening his grip on her throat even further, he nudges her shoulder to turn around. Once turned, he tangles a hand in her curls. Tightening his hand, he forces her to finally look at him by tilting her head. Her big brown eyes display her vulnerability, her desire, and her willingness to submit to him.

He runs the back of his knuckles softly against her face from cheek to jawline, grabbing her chin with his thumb and forefinger. Lowering his head a centimeter, he brushes his lips against hers before taking the lead in a heart-stopping kiss. He licks inside her mouth and massages her tongue with his. Feeling her knees start to buckle, he slows the kiss and steps away from her.

She follows his movement as he steps up to the couch and sits dead center. He pats his thighs, and she knows to assume “the position”. Climbing on top of him, she lays across his lap with her ass up in the air.

Running a hand over her exposed globes, he speaks lowly to her. “My sweet Angel has the smoothest skin. And the sound it makes when I-,” He raises his hand, and it lands with a SMACK, “-hit it just right? Perfection.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she breathes, panting just slightly.

Frank adjusts himself so that she feels his growing length against her abdomen. When he feels her pushing her ass into his hand again, he lands a healthy SMACK on both cheeks. With both hands, he parts her ass and runs a thumb over the dampening gusset of her thong.

“Mmmm, gettin’ wet already for me, huh? Let’s see what happens when I lay down a few more spanks then,” he hums, putting one hand on her back while the other begins a rhythm of SMACK after SMACK after SMACK. From one cheek to the other, he delivers blow after blow until she pipes up.

“Yellow, Sir!” She sniffles, her hands grabbing onto the couch cushion.

“Good girl, Angel,” Frank says, lightly soothing her ass with slow strokes of his hand. He runs his fingers over the now-soaked center of her mesh panties. Frank groans and moves her underwear to the side, so he has access to her wet little pussy. 

With two fingers, he slides into her core, stretching her out. She moans and grinds her hips, he scissors her open. Wet, squelching noises fill the room as he adds another finger, massaging her swollen clit with his thumb. He picks up speed as her walls start to twitch around his digits.

“That’s it, Angel. Cum for me, baby,” he urges, his gravelly voice rumbling through his chest. “You can do it, Angel. Soak my fingers, girl.”

Within seconds, her heat clamps down on his fingers as she reaches her peak. Shuddering as she cums, she whimpers as he works her through her orgasm. Mumbled nonsense spills from her mouth as she tries her hardest to thank Frank for the earth-shattering climax.

Once she is calmed down from her intense high, Frank picks her up as he stands and walks to their bedroom. Laying her down softly, he steps back and unzips his pants, and pulls out his cock and balls. His uncut hard-on stands proudly as his heavy sac hangs under it. 

She licks her lips and moves to the edge of the bed on her hands and knees. Before she can reach out a hand to his dick, he shakes his head and chuckles. 

“Nah. Not tonight, baby. I’m already close to blowin’. If you get that perfect little mouth on me, it’s over. Now, turn around and get that ass over here,” he directs, watching as a sly smile appears on her face.

As soon as she is turned around, Frank grabs her hips and pulls her to him. Using one hand to press her face-down into the mattress, he uses the other to line himself up to her slick center. He slides into her warmth and lets out a grunt as he settles inside her.

Retracting his hips slowly, he leaves just the tip in for a second until he slams back in. Thrusting once, twice, three times; he sets an unremitting pace. Her moans are music to his ears as he plunges over and over into her tight slit. 

Her womanhood drools over his shaft as he reaches a hand down to play with her puffy pearl. Overcome with her impending fall over the edge, she tightens her fists into the bedsheets and lets out a wail as her depths flutter around his thick girth.

“Ohhhh fuuuuuuck, Angel. That’s it! Just like that, gimme that good shit, baby,” he rambles on, chasing his release as he fucks her through hers. “Argh, fuck! I’m gonna fill you up, Angel. Beg me for it.”

“Please, Sir! Please fill me up! I need you; I need you so bad,” she gushes, so blissfully fucked out that she would do anything for Frank at this moment.

“That’s my Angel. Ugh fuck!” Frank fucks into her one last time, his cockhead poking at her sensitive cervix. As he spills inside her, he huffs every time his dick spasms.

She sighs as her body accepts his load, a hazy smile on her face. 

Frank pulls out, watching as his jizz tries to escape. He uses a finger to catch his spend and push it back inside her. Tucking himself away, he helps her lay down with her head against the pillows before lying next to her. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, and she cuddles into his side. Kissing the top of her head, he also gives her a quick squeeze.

They are quiet for a moment until she speaks, “Thank you, Frankie. Fuck, I needed that.”

“Anytime, baby. You know I’m here for you. Anything you need. All you gotta do is ask, and I’ll come running,” he confesses, smiling down at her when she looks up at him. “Now, don’t get too comfy. We’re gonna take a bath together so I can soothe those sore muscles.”

“Frankie, how did I get so lucky to have a man like you?” Her big brown eyes focus on him while her hand cradles his face.

He chuckles before replying, “Nah, I’m the lucky one. You love me with your whole heart, you lift me on my hardest days, and the way you look at me like I hung the damn moon? You’re a saint, my Angel.”

She leans up on one elbow, looking at Frank with unshed tears. “You think you don’t do the same? Please, baby. You are my heart, my love, my everything. You came home from what I assume was most likely a hard day, and you dropped everything to give me what I needed. You, Frank Castle, are the real angel here. One of those cool, brooding angels without wings.”

“An angel without wings, huh? Sounds kinda badass, honestly,” he jokes, leaning up to place a chaste kiss on her lips before getting out of bed. He walks around to where she sits on the edge with her legs dangling. She smiles at him and swats his hands away when he tries to pick her up again.

He raises his hands in defeat and follows her as she walks into the bathroom. They get undressed as the clawfoot tub fills with warm water and lavender-scented bubbles. Frank helps her step in and then slides in behind her.

Washing her body, he massages her favorite body wash into her flesh. She returns the favor, and they exit the tub. Frank wraps a towel around his hips and uses another to pat her skin lightly from head to toe. 

Once they are in pajamas and back in bed, he pulls her back into his arms. Ghosting a hand up and down her arm until her breathing settles and soft snores escape her, he can finally rest now that she is safe and sound.

A/N: Ok, this was loosely based on a dream I had about Frank Castle. It was a little bit more *insert whip sound here* in my dream, but maybe I will include that in another tale someday.

[losver07]

guys i really need a title for my fic jdbfkdnckd so ima tell you aaaaall about it and you tell me 1. wether youd read it or not and 2. what the hell i could use as a title because i have absolutely no idea

ok this is probably going to be long so under the cut :)

okay! marauders fic, of course. muggle au (because im not ready step that far out of my comfort zone yet lmao)

the main characters will of course be the four marauders, and the story is set in a hospital, where all of them are residents in the mental health ward. so after sirius attempts on his life, he is hospitalised by his brother and put in a room with james, peter and remus, who have all been accepted in the past couple of months for several but not so different reasons.

there will be a looot of mental health talk involved as you may imagine, as well as some juicy drama and very very yummy angst.

ships! wolfstar (unexpected, i know), jily, jegulus (ohhhh there's a lot of drama involved on that one), rosekiller probably, and many more that i'll improvise because let's be honest i do not control these characters.

also! no need to mention that i do NOT support jkr's transphobic, homophobic, racist, etc. views and that the goal of this fic is to make me and anyone else who enjoys it happy. i do not wish to offend anyone and even though there can be some triggering subjects involved (suicide, sh, eating disorders, etc.) they will be tagged so people who may be affected by them are safe. i really just want to write something that keeps my delusion going guys.

okay!!! so i think that sums it up well enough :) feel free to ask me anything or correct me if i messed up (i still have a lot of research to do on the british healthcare system), and give me ideas if you have any! i've got most of the plot outlined but i am willing to add/change some scenes if i get a good suggestion ;)

thanks for reading <3 ill let you know when i start posting chapters tho school is making that quite difficult lol

[bunny7567]

I got you - chapter 9

Pairing: Rex x Jedi!ofc

Word count: 7.2k Tags/Warnings: canon-typical violence; animal attack and pretty detailed description of killing an animal in self-defense; heavy drinking; 1 mention of underage drinking; Echo needs a hug; Fives would love Chappell Roan, I will not take any criticism on that; Rex gets jelly; some angst and fluff; am i coming out through this fanfic? maybe, don't tell my family; implied emetophobia

Previous chapter | Next chapter

k'uur -  Hush, Be quiet osik - crap, shit Ori'haat - It's the truth, I swear - no bull Di’kut - idiot Vod’ika - little brother, little sister Vode – brothers, sisters Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod? - Are you looking for a smack in the face, mate?

~~~

Lexie was running through the thick forest on the planet Garronn, Fives and Echo close behind her. Her feet were aching and the humid air was making it difficult to keep her breathing under control. They had just been on Felucia a few rotations before this mission and Lexie cursed the fact that they’ve left one jungle planet just to end up on another one.

They needed to reach the pick-up point and they needed to reach it fast if there was any hope of escaping this kriffin’ world during this rotation. There was no telling when another extraction team could get there, the 104th could not remain in the Garro system too long, they were lucky enough as it was they had been close enough to contact in the first place.

The whole mission had been such a shitshow. The lead they were chasing turned out to be a complete bust, Cad Bane had not chosen the Force-sensitive youngling on Garronn as his target. Or maybe Anakin had already intercepted him on Naboo, or he’d been apprehended by Obi-Wan on Rodia. Lexie had no way of knowing, their long-range comms had been scrambled since the moment they landed on the planet.

Lexie did however encounter a small Separatist presence the Republic had not been aware of and, without guidance from the Council, she and the men made the decision to destroy the outpost by themselves. A decision she deeply regretted about now, as they were trying to escape the commando droids chasing them through the jungle. Another bad call as a general.

She really was grateful that Anakin had insisted she took some troopers with her when they split up but, in hindsight, she should’ve listened to him and taken an entire squad with her, it could have made things a bit easier. She doubted she would’ve made it out of that outpost if it wasn’t for Fives and Echo’s assists and she also would not have a way off of this planet had Echo not managed to highjack the outpost comms and contact the 104th.

They really were good, she could finally see why Rex was so proud of the two troopers. This was the first missions where they had worked so closely together, she realised.

“How much left?”, Lexie yelled over her shoulder.

“Two klicks Sir”, Echo’s helmet modulated voice responded.

“I think we lost them”, Fives announced, glancing behind him.

“Finally some good kriffin news”, she said.

The three of them came to an abrupt halt as they reached a steep ravine.

“Fastest route is through down there”, Lexie said after checking the holo-map, and motioned for the two troopers to go on.

The men started the descent before her, Lexie staying on top to make sure the droids would not catch up with them again. Suddenly she felt a shift in the Force and her senses were flooded by an urgent feeling of dread. Her troopers were in danger.

“Echo!”, she heard Fives scream as she jumped down into the ravine, using the Force to control her fall.

As soon as she landed she pulled out her lightsabers, igniting the yellow blades. Fives was shooting his blaster at a massive serpent-like creature, but she couldn’t see Echo anywhere. She looked through the Force, she could feel him, he was still alive, but where? She looked at Fives for an answer. She felt anger, fear and sadness surround his Force signature.

“That thing ate him!”, Fived yelled.

Her head snapped back to the creature and she recognised the species. Garronnian serpent, thank the Force. They swallow their prey whole and digest it over the course of 10 rotations. Once they ingest their prey, though, they become a lot more aggressive. The serpent lunged at her as she attempted to run towards it and she had to jump out of the way. She had to find a way get close to it in order to get Echo out.

“Try and keep it distracted”, she told Fives.

Fives started yelling and moving his hands around, getting the serpent to switch its focus to him. Lexie closed her eyes and tried to locate where Echo was in its body, she had to be careful not to injure him as she tried to get him out. Her mind scanned over the creature and she quickly knew where to cut.

“General…”, Fives’ concerned voice pleaded for her help.

The creature was towering over him, jaw wide open as it prepared to launch an attack. Lexie swiftly jumped in front of Fives using the saber in her left hand to slash vertically into the creature’s belly. The serpent spluttered, moving frantically before hitting the ground. A green, slimy liquid poured from the evisceration site, drenching Lexie and Fives. The smell was absolutely repugnant.

“Help me get him out”, Lexie yelled at Fives as she tried to resist gagging. 

The two rushed to the now dead serpent. They could already see Echo’s hand coming out through the gash and Fives hurried to pull his brother all the way out while Lexie used the Force to widen the opening. Fives fell backwards with Echo landing on top of him as he was finally yanked free from the serpent’s belly. Lexie rushed to them, helping them back to their feet.

“Are you good, vod?”, Fives asked.

Echo slowly nodded and took off his helmet. He was also covered in the slimy liquid and looked extremely nauseous. Lexie’s stomach turned as she watched him gag.

“Don’t you fucking dare throw up”, she warned him. Both men gave her a confused look. “If you throw up, I will throw up. And if you make me throw up I will kill you, do you understand?”

“Y-Yes, Sir”, Echo struggled to respond.

“Put that helmet back and let’s get the kriff out of here before any more of those things show up”, she said through gritted teeth, trying not to gag herself. The smell was undeniably foul.

The 104th was forced to move out of the sector earlier than expected, but fortunately Master Plo Koon was able to spare two pilots and a Nu-class shuttle in order to extract and transport Lexie, Echo and Fives back to Coruscant. It unfortunately meant that they were not able to properly clean the serpent guts off of themselves for the duration of the flight, something that prompted Warthog to not so politely ban all three of them from entering the cockpit.

Lexie was leaned forward on her seat, elbows resting on her thighs, absentmindedly picking at the skin around her fingernails as her mind darted over the last rotations. She had made so many mistakes. Again. From their ship getting blown up by the Seppies, to the failed attempt at destroying the outpost and barely making it out alive, to the damn encounter with that giant serpent, it seemed that every single decision she had made during this mission had been the wrong one. All the confidence in herself that Rex had been helping her build over the last months was rapidly starting to crumble.

“Are you alright, General?”, Echo asked her.

He was sat across from her, helmet rested on his lap. Next to him Fives appeared to be asleep, eyes closed and head leaned back, his helmet discarded on the floor by his feet. They had barely slept since landing on Garronn, so she was surprised to see Echo was awake.

“Yeah I’m just… replaying the mission in my head”, she said quietly.

She wasn’t doing a very good job of masking her emotions. But he had also been getting really good at picking up on her distress over the last few months and was almost as skilled as Rex when it came to encouraging or comforting her.

“We got out alive, that’s all that matters”, he tried to reassure her.

“Barely. I almost got you two killed”, she retorted.

“We all agreed to destroy the outpost. Yes, we should’ve done some more recon first but we still needed to infiltrate it regardless, to comm for the extraction if nothing else”.

“Yeah well, an infiltration mission is completely different. And something I could have done myself without putting you two at risk. I just think Rex will be very disappointed with my decision making”. She regretted that last part as soon as she said it. Why would she admit to thinking about him, to caring about his opinion in front of Echo, in front of anyone?

“Like you could ever do anything wrong in his eyes”, Fives piped up. Turns out he wasn’t sleeping after all even if his eyes were still closed.

“What do you mean?”, Lexie asked narrowing her eyes.

“I mean he basically idolises you. Won’t shut up about what a great Jedi and general you are. It’s always General Khalla this, General Khalla that. It’s a bit annoying sometimes actually”, he said, opening his eyes to look at her, a sly smile on his face.

“Fives, k'uur!”, Echo interjected, giving his brother a look. He and the others all believed the Captain had a crush on Lexie, but straight up letting her know about it wasn’t right.

“What? you know it’s true”, Fives defended, looking at Echo before turning his head back to Lexie. “Even after that first mission when everyone jumped to the worst conclusions he held firm. Would immediately shift the conversation to how you saved his life on Geonosis. All I’m saying is you shouldn’t worry about disappointing him, he thinks everything you do is perfect”.

Lexie just started at him for a moment, unsure of how she could even reply to all that. She decided to laugh it off, but she kept thinking about it for the remainder of their flight. Was it true? Had she somehow tricked Rex into thinking she was this perfect Jedi? She felt guilt creeping inside her. No one should ever idolise her, she wasn’t good enough, she wasn’t strong enough or smart enough to warrant that in the slightest. She will end up letting him down, just like she let down her master, like she let down Anakin on Geonosis, like she let down her mother…

The sun had set right before the three arrived back at the barracks. As they walked away from the landing platform and into the hangar, Lexie could see the clones close by scrunching their noses and turning away from them in reaction to the rancid, rotting smell that was very much still covering the trio. She couldn’t wait to get in the shower and change her clothes. A thought came into her head, wondering if she’d even be able to get the smell out of her clothes or if she should just burn them.

“I need a fucking drink”, Lexie mumbled.

Echo and Fives were right behind and heard her. The two exchanged a look, a question and an answer wordlessly being communicated between them.

“Do you want to come to the 79s with us, Sir?”, Fives asked.

Lexie stopped and turned to look at them, gauging to see if it was a genuine invitation or something they were saying out of obligation. The impropriety of the situation briefly flashed through her mind before it was quickly dismissed. They had already had drinks together, a bit over a month ago in the fresher while Echo dyed her hair, as well as the following day. But she had not been back at the 79s since that night when she first met them. Were the other Jedi going out drinking with their troopers? What would her Master think?

Kriff it.

“I’d like that. After I take like 10-15 showers though”, she replied with a chuckle.

“Agreed”, Echo laughed. “Should we meet outside the barracks in an hour then, General?”

 “Sounds good. But I do have one condition”, she said looking both men in the eye. “You drop the banthashit formalities and call me Lexie”.

Echo nodded and smiled. Fives draped an arm around her shoulders as they resumed walking, heading to the lifts.

 “More than happy to, Lexie”, he said with a grin.

The 79s was not as crowded as the first time Lexie had been there. But then again, it was still fairly early. She knew for a fact a lot of the men from the 501st were just about now finishing running drills, supervised by Rex. She had asked Appo where everyone was after she, Echo and Fives ran into him by the lifts, and he had informed them of the training session that was supposed to run until at least 20:00 hours. The sergeant declined to get into the same lift as them, for obvious reasons.

Lexie thought about stopping by the training level to say hello to Rex, but that was not something she should do while still covered in rancid serpent slime. She hoped she’d have time before heading to the cantina, but she had spent so long washing, and rewashing every part of her body, she had actually been 15 minutes late meeting the boys in front of the barracks as planned. She had thrown on a long-sleeved black tulle dress with black velvet flowery patters and spent a little too long on her eyeliner. Her blue hair was left untied, still a little damp from the shower. But she could swear she still had not gotten the smell out…

She followed Echo and Fives to an empty booth a bit further away from the bar. There were still plenty to choose from, both on the ground floor they were on and upstairs, so Lexie concluded this must be where they usually sit. Echo slid in first, followed by Fives and lastly her. She spotted “501” scratched into one corner of the table and decided she had been correct. She chuckled as she noticed a crossed out “104” right above it, and another, smaller one, also crossed out, on the other corner. On the leg of the table she could also see a few crossed out “212s”, “41s” and also “501s”.

 “The seating situation is a little tricky here. There’s a bit of a passive-aggressive war between the battalions over certain tables”, Echo informed her, having noticed her chuckle.

“Yeah, this is one of the best ones, cause it’s bigger and you have a really good view of the dancefloor. So it’s the preferred location for checking out all the ladies before making a move”, Fives continued. Lexie laughed and Echo shook his head in amusement.

“So what are we starting with? Shots?”, Echo asked, bringing his hands in front of him in a slow clap.

“Shots are good”, Lexie said.

 Fives signalled one of the droid waitresses and ordered three rounds of shots for the table. Since the cantina was still fairly empty it didn’t take long until a tray of small glasses was placed on the table in front of them. The liquid inside was bright orange.

“Care to make a toast, Lexie? Since it’s your first proper night out with us”, Fives said while nudging her slightly with his elbow.

She thought for a second then raised one of the shot glasses.

“Here’s to Echo not being eaten by a giant snake ever again”, she said with a teasing smile, looking him straight in the eyes.

“I’ll kriffin drink to that”, Echo replied only half-amused.

They clinked the glasses and threw back the shots. The sweet, fruity liqueur slowly slid down Lexie’s throat, leaving a pleasant warmth behind. She didn’t remember having this type of shot before and made a mental note of the name. They drank the second and third shot soon after, the warmth of the liqueur intensifying in her throat.

“So what do you boys usually drink when you come here?”, she asked them.

“Tevraki whiskey or ale”, Echo replied.

 “But we can wait and order more drinks later. Don’t want you getting too drunk on us, Lexie”, Fives said teasingly.

“Honey I am Seccayan. I can drink you under the table”, Lexie scoffed.

 “I’d like to see you try”, Fives said, turning his body so he could face her better.

“Is that a dare?”, she asked, feeling her competitive nature bubble up to the surface.

“Yes”.

 “Aright. You’re on”.

 Echo shook his head in amused disbelief.

“Alright. Well, we need some ground rules. We have to drink the same amount of drinks, at least a minimum, it’s not fair otherwise, like if you only have one-two more the rest of the night while I have five”.

“I agree. Let’s settle on a minimum number then”

“Let’s say seven”, Fives said after a second of thinking.

“Seven? That’s all? Honey I had seven glasses of Secca wine when I was 9 years old and left unsupervised during a wedding reception. That is nothing”.

“Then it should be no issue”, he said with a sly smile, while gesturing for the droid to come take their order again. “Three glasses of Tevraki whiskey, and make them double”.

“I did not agree to be part of your alcohol poisoning game”, Echo said as the droid left.

 “Then you can keep count for us”, Lexie said with a smile. Echo shook his head with a laugh.

The droid returned with their drinks and they clinked them again before each taking a sip. The warmth of the whiskey was stronger than the shots had been, spreading through her entire body. The taste wasn’t too bad, very bitter-sweet. It wasn’t her favourite drink but she didn’t hate it either.

Two glasses of Tevraki later, Lexie began to feel the buzz of alcohol, and found herself laughing and talking louder than before. She really enjoyed being in the company of Echo and Fives, both men had a great sense of humour, Echo’s a bit drier, and conversation was flowing smoothly.

“You cannot shorten an already shortened name”, Lexie told Fives with frustration.

 “Yes I can. Lex”, he had been calling her that for the past 20 minutes. “It’s a form of endearment”, he said with a sweet smile.

“But Lexie is already short for Alexis. You can't just shorten it even more”.

“Yes I can”, he said stubbornly, tilting her head towards hers.

“Ok fine! That's it. Five. That ‘s’ in your name? Revoked. You're just five now”, she said, throwing her hands into the air in an exaggerated movement.

“Fine by me, Lex”, Fives said. Echo was quietly laughing at them.

“There you lot are”, a voice came from outside their booth.

 Lexie turned her head and saw Jesse, Kix and Hardcase. They seemed surprised to find her there, offering her respectful nods and an almost collective “General” greeting.

Jesse sat down next to her, while the other two slid in next to Echo, who had to shift more to the centre of the u-shaped bench. This caused Fives to shift closer than actually needed to Lexie, pressing his arm into hers. He wasn’t wearing the upper part of his armor so she could feel the firm muscles under his blacks.

She didn’t mind, the two of them had been getting a little flirtier with each other as they kept drinking, but it was just in good fun. She wasn’t going to let anything actually happen, but she did plan on enjoying the flirty banter for longer.

“When did you return from your mission, General?”, Kix asked her.

“Oh, no no. We’re not doing the ‘General’ osik tonight. Call me Lexie. All of you”, she said as she looked at the three new additions to their table. They nodded and smiled in agreement. “We got back a few hours ago. Had to head straight for the showers before coming here. It was not a fun mission”.

“Yeah, Echo got eaten by a snake”, Fives quipped.

“He what?”, Hardcase asked laughing.

“Ori'haat”, Fives said.

“Can we not talk about it? It was actually really kriffin traumatising”, Echo said a little defensively.

“Aww don’t worry vod’ika. You can sleep in my bunk if you get scared during the night”, Fives teased, leaning closer to his brother and ruffling his hair with a hand.

“Kriff off, Fives”, Echo said, shoving him away. The sudden movement made Fives slam against Lexie’s side, pushing her into Jesse, who was in his full kit.

“Boys, come on. Not wearing armor here”, she said with a laugh, rubbing her right arm.

 “Sorry, Lexie”, Echo said.

“Nice going di'kut”, Fives said, smacking the back of Echo’s head.

 “Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?”, Echo threatened.

 “Okay”, Lexie said lifting from her seat and placing her hands on the table, employing the same tone of voice she used when breaking up disagreements between rowdy younglings at the Temple. “Kix switch with Echo”, she ordered. The two men shuffled awkwardly and switched places. Kix was now placed as a buffer between Fives and Echo.

 “Now… more shots?”, Lexie asked sitting back down.

  “More shots”, Fives agreed with a smile.

Two rounds of shots were ordered for the entire table. Laughter and loud conversation followed. Lexie’s cheeks were starting to be flushed from the alcohol and she rolled up the sleeves of her dress. Hardcase was complaining loudly about all the drills Rex had them run that day and Lexie fought against the urge to ask where he was now and if he was planning on joining them at the 79s. From what she could gather, he was either with Cody, or planned to meet him. Another glass of whiskey was placed in front of her by Fives.

 Her attention was caught by Jesse, who reached over her to nudge Fives and pointed in the direction of the bar. A tall, purple-skinned Twi'lek woman was leaning over the bar, trying to get the attention of the server. Her lekku was covered with strings of sparkling yellow beads that perfectly complemented the bandeau top and short skirt she was wearing. She was stunning.

 Fives wolf-whistled. “I wouldn’t mind going home with her tonight”.

“You and me both”, Lexie accidentally said out loud before taking a sip from her drink.

 Fives and Jesse’s heads quickly snapped from the woman to look at her, an expression of surprise on their faces. On the other side of the table she saw Hardcase tilting his head in confusion, having stopped mid-sentence in his story about one of the training simulations.

“What? I’m bi”, she said nervously. She took a bigger sip of her drink, realisation hitting her that she had never said that out loud to anyone before.

She could practically see the wheels turning in their heads and she rolled her eyes. Men.

Jesse let out a “huh” sound and raised his eyebrows a little. She turned her head to look at Fives. You didn’t even need to be Jedi in order to tell exactly what was going on inside his head, his wide eyes and the stupid grin on his face were doing all the talking.

 “I will not have a threesome with you, do not even ask”, she told him.

 “I thought you said you couldn’t read our minds”, he quipped.

“I don’t kriffin’ need to, nor want to. Whatever thoughts are running through your horny man brain right now just keep them to yourself”, she said gesturing to his head. “That goes for all of you”, she continued, turning to look at Jesse then at Hardcase and Kix, who also had a little surprised smile in the corner of his lips. She was glad to know at least Echo didn’t care about it. He gave her an apologetic smile.

“Well do you want to have a go at it, Lexie, or could I?”, Jesse asked with a chuckle.

“Considering she came to a clone bar by herself I don’t think I’d get anywhere but thanks for asking”, she replied with a laugh.

“Maybe we should let Echo have a go. We still need to get him laid”, Hardcase said, elbowing Echo in the ribs.

Echo looked uncomfortable and shot Hardcase a pointed look while nursing his side. Lexie was about to open her mouth to tell Hardcase to mind his business, but Fives beat her to it.

 “No we don’t. Echo doesn’t want that”, he stood up for his brother.

 “Why?”, Hardcase asked confused.

 “I’m just not into that”, Echo said firmly.

 Lexie caught his eyes and gave him an encouraging smile.

 “Well, less competition for us then”, Jesse shrugged before he got up from the booth and started making his way over to the Twi'lek woman.

“Be respectful and use protection”, Lexie yelled after him, making him turn to give her a look. She and Fives started laughing.

 The 79s was more crowded now, and loud music had replaced the pod racing that was being shown on the holoscreens when they had arrived. The alcohol in her system was making her sway with the music. How many drinks had she even drunk so far? Eight? She downed the remaining liqueur in her glass and leaned more into Fives’ side.

 “Kinda wish I was dancing”, she mumbled.

“We could go dancing”, Fives said, tilting his head towards her.

“We could go dancing!”, Lexie repeated with a grin, meeting his eyes.

She and Fives got up and started heading to the fairly crowded dance floor. She paused and turned gesturing for the others to come as well. Hardcase didn’t waste any time to get up from his seat but Kix and Echo declined, saying they would join later.

The music was loud and energetic and Lexie started moving with the beat. It had been too long since she’d gone dancing she realised, not since before Geonosis. She loved it, she loved moving with the music and singing along with the songs she knew. It felt reinvigorating. She felt confident when dancing, even if she wasn’t sure she was too good at it. But she had drunk enough not to worry at all about how she looked.

She was dancing next to Fives and Hardcase, and were soon joined by Jesse, who had not had any luck with the Twi'lek woman. After two songs she walked back to the booth and dragged Echo and Kix out and to the dancefloor.

Echo was a surprisingly good dancer she discovered, always on rhythm. Hardcase tended to move a bit too fast regardless of the pace of the song. Jesse had draped an arm across Kix’s shoulder, trying to get the medic to unwind a bit more and jump up and down with him. He then placed his other arm over Lexie’s shoulder and the three of them jumped around to the song. Fives was also a good dancer, but he kept “accidentally” bumping into her every now and then; at one point he took her arm and twirled her.

The next song was one that she knew and really liked and so she started singing along to the lyrics. Fives apparently knew the song too and joined in. The two of them were facing each other, all smiles as they sang along. But baby, I like flirting, a lover by my side/Can't be a good, good girl even if I tried.

Fives stepped closer to her, he knew the song, he was waiting for his moment. I really want your hands on my body/A slow dance, baby, let's get it on. He placed his hands on her hips, pulling her close to him. Lexie laughed and placed her hands on his shoulders. He was getting bolder, but she was enjoying it.

Fives pulled here even closer to him, her hips pressed against his own. Lexie instinctively moved against the plastoid of his codpiece, causing him to sharply inhale at the small friction. She should stop, things were getting a bit too heated. But she really was having so much fun.

She rotated herself so that her back was now pressed against his chest, but his hands were still on her hips, swaying them with the music. She raised her arm up and behind her, hand resting on the back of Fives’ head, fingers grasping his hair. She felt his hot breath on the side of her neck as he lowered his head closer to hers. The song ended but they continued dancing in the same position for the next one as well.

“I think we’re in trouble”, he said in her ear before jerking his head towards their table.

Kix and Hardcase had sat back down, taking a break from dancing, but what Fives was referring to was the clone standing in front of the table, glaring at them.

Rex.

The smile left Lexie’s lips as she watched him make his way towards them and she felt Fives’ hands quickly let go of her body. He looked angry.

 “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”, the Captain snarled at Fives as he stopped in front of them. “That is your superior officer”.

“Rex chill, we were just dancing”, Lexie tried to intervene.

Rex flinched at the use of his name. That was not something that Lexie ever did in front of the men. His eyes quickly darted from Fives to Echo and Jesse, who were close by and had stopped dancing to watch the scene unfold.

“General, do really you think it’s appropriate?”, he retorted.

“We have the night off and I’m having some fun. I don’t see anything wrong with it”, she scoffed.

“But you’re a Jedi, this is not how you should behave”.

Lexie’s eyes went wide at his condescension. Deep down she knew he was probably right, but the last days had been so stressful, all she had wanted was to just forget about everything and enjoy herself. And it had been working up until then, pretending to be a regular person, drinking and dancing with friends, and not someone who was responsible for the lives of hundreds of soldiers and for the winning or losing of battles that threatened the Republic itself. Lexie was now furious and it was visible all over her face. She took a step closer to Rex.

 “I am not responsible for falling from a pedestal that you have placed me on”, she said bitterly, jabbing a finger at his chestplate. “I deserve to unwind and have fun just as much as anyone else, even if that doesn’t meet your kriffin’ standards. Do you know how astonishingly bad our mission was? Echo was eaten by a kriffin’ snake. He was eaten! I had to cut him out of its stomach. And I got covered in disgusting, rancid serpent guts in the process. I can still fucking smell it in my hair. I deserve to unwind after the shitshow that was the last three days. So if you’ll excuse me, Captain, I will continue doing just that”.

Rex clenched his jaw. What could he even reply to all that? She turned away from him, grabbed Fives by his hand and dragged him to the other side of the dancefloor.

“Are you ok, Lex?”, he asked. It was clear from the expression on her face that she was very upset.

 “Yeah, let’s just keep dancing”, she forced a smile. “Please”.

 Rex was sat with Kix at their table, his eyes glued to Lexie as she was still dancing and laughing with Fives, Echo, Jesse and Hardcase. They had only stopped a few times in the past hour in order to head to the bar and do more shots.

He felt so angry, mostly at himself. Lexie was a grown woman, of course she was capable of making her own decisions and entitled to act however she wanted when she was off duty. What the hell was he thinking trying to dictate how she could or couldn’t behave? She did not owe him anything, no matter how much it hurt to see Fives’ hands all over her body.

 His grip tightened around the drink in front of him as he struggled to understand why he was feeling so angry. He tried to tell himself that he only thought of Lexie as a friend, but the pit that would form in his stomach every time he glanced over and saw her dancing with Fives or Jesse… Rex realised it might be time to admit that his vode had been right. He did have a crush on her.

“Did you think he would just wait forever for you to make a move?”, Kix’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts.

“I don’t know what you mean”, he replied dryly.

“Sure you don’t. Just like you don’t look like you want to murder Fives either”, Kix quipped.

Rex shot the medic an irritated look.

 “Nothing happened yet, you know. She’s been dancing a lot with him yes, but she’s also danced with me and with the others. You still have time to do something”.

 Before Rex could reply, Jesse appeared next to Kix and started dragging him out of the booth as “their song” came on and he had to come dance with them. Kix tried to protest that he’d just sat back down, but his brother wouldn’t hear it. Rex lifted his eyes from his drink and saw Lexie by his side.

 “Come dance with us, Captain”, she said with a small smile. She had been looking over at him every now and then as she was dancing and hated the sour mood he was in. She was beginning to think she had been too harsh with her choice of words and wished to now make peace.

 “Good luck with that”, Jesse told her with a laugh. “I have never seen Rex dance”. He and Kix left for the dancefloor.

 “Rex. Please”, she said extending her arm to him.

  He shouldn’t.

  “I’m sorry I snapped, it’s just been a really stressful mission”, she continued, slurring her words a little.

“No, I’m sorry Lexie. I shouldn’t have said what I said”, he said as he reluctantly took her hand and stood up. He hated that he had upset her.

She squeezed his hand slightly trying to convey she was no longer upset with him before leading him to the dancefloor. Hardcase and Fives enthusiastically cheered as he and Lexie approached the group, while Jesse, Kix and Echo exchanged a look. The Captain never danced. No matter how many times they had tried to convince him, no matter how many women had asked him to dance with them, he never danced. And yet it had taken their general less than five minutes to get him out of the booth and onto the dancefloor.

Lexie placed her hands on Rex’s shoulders. Her eyes were a bit unfocused due to the alcohol but she managed to hold his gaze. Rex placed a hand on her waist and attempted to awkwardly mimic the way her body was swaying with the music. He was not good at this, he had really never danced before, but from the smile on her face it didn’t seem like she cared. His eyes had softened, and he was completely ignoring the looks his vode were giving him. His attention was solely on her.

 A slower song came on and Lexie smiled at him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, moving closer and resting her head on his shoulder. Rex placed his other arm on her back and leaned his head towards her, resting his cheek on her head. He took a breath in, inhaling the sweet, floral smell of her shampoo. He knew this was inappropriate but the way she felt in his arms… He was making her happy by dancing with her, and that was making him happy. All he wanted to do was see her smile and hear her laugh. She was so important to him, he realised.

Fear started to settle into his mind; this felt much, much bigger than a simple crush. The relief he felt when the song ended was visible on his face and Lexie looked at him with a confused expression. He excused himself and walked back to their table.

It was late into the night now, and the group was sat back down at the table, with Lexie and Fives being the last to join. Rex had shot up from his seat earlier as he watched the two of them stumble and fall to the floor while laughing and he had decided they had enough dancing, marching over and dragging them back to their seats. The two had plopped down on the bench, still laughing, with Fives leaning a little too much into Lexie’s side. Rex sat down next to Echo on the other side of the table.

 “Why the hell did you let Fives get her so drunk?”, Rex asked Echo in an irritated tone.

“Fives didn’t force her to drink. She is just as bad as he is, honestly”, Echo replied.

“Hey! I heard that”, Lexie replied. She pushed Fived off of her and into Jesse’s side and got up, hands on the table and leaning over it to get closer to Rex. “And I am not as bad as Fives. I am much, much worse”, she grinned.

“I’m starting to believe that”, he mumbled as he watched her lose her balance and practically fall back into her seat.

 Lexie looked to her left, wanting to say something to Fives, only to discover that he had passed out on Jesse’s shoulder. A wide smile spread on her face.

“Guess I won”, she said looking over at Echo.

“You did. And I will make sure he never hears the end of it, don’t worry”, Echo replied amused.

“Alright, I think that’s enough for tonight”, Rex said looking from Fives to Hardcase who seemed close to passing out himself.

The group started heading out of the 79s, with Echo and Kix having to carry Fives, supporting him over their shoulders. Jesse was walking close to Hardcase, making sure he didn’t trip and fall, leaving Rex to walk by Lexie’s side.

She and the Captain had to stay back, as they could not all fit into the first air taxi. Lexie tried with no luck to get Rex to talk during the ride back to the barracks but the atmosphere seemed very tense between the two of them. Lexie’s mood quickly deflated. She had done it, she had shown him who she was and he was disappointed in her.

She stumbled as she got out of the taxi and Rex caught her by the waist before she fell. Lexie was starting to feel very embarrassed, her inhibitions returning as she was slowly sobering up. The silence was killing her as Rex walked her back to her room but she could not think of a single thing to talk about. Even worse, she was beginning to feel very nauseous and most of the focus was directed to keeping her jaw tightly clenched and willing herself to not throw up.

She immediately entered her room and went straight into the fresher, panic flooding her senses. She hated throwing up, it was the worst feeling in the galaxy for her. She would rather have droids shoot her with live blasterfire than have to throw up. Her right hand was gripping the sink, her knuckle turning white. She just had to focus and not allow herself to get sick.

“Are you okay?”, Rex asked from the doorway of the fresher, concern evident on his face.

 All Lexie could do was slowly shake her head. She refused to open her mouth even to speak.

“Do you want me to stay?”, he asked quietly.

 She nodded reaching her left hand for his. He took her hand and squeezed it lightly. Over the next half hour neither of them budged from when they were stood, the only movement being made was when Lexie would squeeze his hand harder during the moments she felt close to throwing up.

Finally feeling a little better she made her way to her bed, sitting on the edge. She quietly watched as Rex took off the upper part of his armor, just as he had the last time he stayed in her room all those months ago. He had kept watch as she slept for six nights before she felt safe to sleep alone again. She hated having to admit to herself how happy she was to have him in the room with her again.

“You can just sleep on the bed you know”, the alcohol still in her system prompted her to say as she saw him reach for the chair.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea”, he said hesitantly.

“It’s fine, it’s big enough”, she said as she laid on the bed on her side and shuffled close to the wall.

That wasn’t what he meant and she knew it, but decided to ignore it and pat the spot on the bed next to her. He hesitated. If he agreed, he would cross so many lines. But he would get to hold her in his arms, to be close to her. And he wanted to do it, Maker he really wanted to.

He laid on his back on the bed and did not protest when Lexie snuggled into his side, resting her head in the crook of his neck and her right hand on his chest. He had moved his arm to allow her to settle comfortably and once she had, he placed it around her, hand coming to rest on her waist. He was suddenly so nervous and exasperated to realise how fast his heart was beating.

 “What are you thinking about?”, she asked. She sounded tired.

“Nothing. Just go to sleep, General”, he replied trying to keep a level voice.

“Something is bothering you. It’s just us two but you just called me ‘general’”.

“It’s just… you and Fives seemed very close tonight”, he said after a long pause.

“Are you jealous?”, she asked with a chuckle.

 “What? No. It was just an observation”, he said defensively.

“You don’t have to worry, you’re still my favourite”, she said lifting her head, eyes finding his.

“I’m your favourite clone?”, he said amused, tilting his head in order to look at her.

“You’re my favourite person”, she admitted.

 Rex’s eyebrows shot up in surprised before a genuine smile appeared on his face. She really saw him as a person, as a sentient being and not just an expendable soldier. He had felt that of course, she treated him and his brothers with respect and it was obvious she cared about them, but to hear her say it, to hear her say that he was her favourite person, out of everyone she knew. He felt so happy. She made him so happy. He squeezed her a little tighter into him.

 “You’re my favourite person too”, he said quietly.

Lexie was struggling to keep her eyes open, the alcohol and exhaustion from dancing finally catching up with her. She felt the happiness pouring around Rex and smiled, resting her head on his chest. Her eyes fluttered closed, but before she drifted off to sleep she was almost certain she felt Rex’s lips gently placing a kiss on the top of her head.