#i dont want it to ghost by my fluttering hair

[w33d-k4tz]

Just for now, with how my face is lost And how I’m forgetting all of the words You’re still smiling And waiting for coming of the summer, we’re the ghosts Tell me about this feeling in my heart Tell me how the summer scent is like I’m taking a shallow breath .

And in my mind im imagining it—

what i saw in your eyes was the summer ghost

[starkeygirlposts]

Goosebumps in my Sleeve IV

Summary: You've been dating Rafe Cameron for 3 years, and one day Ward and your mom tell you they're getting married.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Trigger warnings: stepcest, drugs, pregnancy, swearing, pregnancy, no smut in this chapter, strong depictions of abortion and aftermath of abortion, swearing, domestic violence, idk what else lol

18+ mdni

PREVIOUS PART

His lips break apart from yours but his forehead rests against your own as he breathes deeply and takes your hands in his.

“Rafe, look at me.” You request, tightening your fists and finally his head breaks away from yours, but he doesn’t give you much room to crane your neck up to meet his eyes, but when you do you see a softness you’ve been missing for over a year. You can see the boy you loved at sixteen hidden behind his dark glazed eyes and you hope it isn’t your mind playing tricks on you. You find your fingers absentmindedly ghost up his chest to find both of his cheeks, cradling his face to lure his attention to what you’re about to say.

You lock eyes with him and silently plead quietly telling him “...We need to give Pope the cross.” You breathe deeply, knowing he’s surely about to cut you off so you hastily continue, closing your eyes, "I know you think this is the only way! - But it…it isn’t!” You tell him, your nerves wound tight, bracing for him to lose it. But he doesn’t. He’s staring at you and you start to wonder if he was even listening. But then his nostrils flare with an inhale and he closes his eyes before speaking.

“Alright. Yeah, alright, alright. We give it back…say we give it back. How, how am I supposed to protect you with nothing, Y/N? You want a roof over your pretty head?” He asks you the question laced with trickery, his fingers ghosting to brush your hair out of your eyes before continuing "With what money? You got some secret stash you haven’t told me about? Once we leave, my dad will drain every account. I can’t just walk into the bank and take that money. My accounts are all in his name. You think I haven’t thought this through in my head? You think he did anything before thinking about something like this? There’s a reason nothing is mine, Y/N. This is the only way, baby.” He tells you, the reality clouding your mind and you start to shake your head, feel like you’re panicking, your heart racing and bile turning up in your gut. You can’t help but cringe and close your eyes to revel in disbelief before tugging him closer to you by the fabric of his shirt under your fingertips. You can’t afford to lose him this far in. You know you have a good argument, but even so, he’s right. How were you supposed to get anywhere with pennies in your pockets? The world stops for a moment and you call his name again, his eyes locked in on yours and you drag his face close to yours.

Your lips ghost his, his nose brushing yours while you murmur “You know where the gold is, don’t you? Ward took you to the Bahamas.” You tell him, and all he wants is to kiss you. To hush your pretty mouth with his. His eyes are alternating between your own, your lips, back to your button nose, and he’s everywhere all at once. He scoffs and starts to shake his head because you just dont get it do you?

“It - It’s more than enough, Rafe. Isn’t stealing from your father better than stealing from someone who’s done nothing to deserve it?” You ask quietly, practically begging and you hope he sees this the same way you do. He doesn’t answer you, so you add “If you don’t want to do this for me, do it for her.” You blink cautiously, searching him for the flip of the switch. But his eyes flutter closed, heavy with tears and he only listens. "She doesn’t deserve a thief for a father, Rafe. Please…you have to do better for her.” You beg with a shaky breath and he opens his eyes back to look at you with such uncertainty as your words weigh heavy. After what feels like an eternity, he moves closer to you and quietly says “He’d tell them I killed Peterkin.” You can feel him shutting down, palms trying to pry your hands off of him before you shake his head slightly trying to get him to focus. But before you can say anything, Sarah’s voice cuts through the air and you almost forgot she was there.

Her voice is quiet, the moment tense “I’ll tell them he’s lying. I - I’ll help you…whatever you need from me…I’ll do it. Just return the cross to Pope, Rafe.” You look behind him to meet eyes with her and she nods gently, stepping back while Rafe begins to turn his body to face his sister. His body os suddenly tense again, your hands flying out to catch him and stop him from straying too far. But you’re not quick enough, your boyfriends words flying hot out of his mouth.

“You - You think I believe you?” He sneers, and you quickly reach out grip onto his bicep, trying to drag him back to you before he can move any steps closer to her. His arm flexes, the muscles under your palm firm and corded, anger bubbling there.

“Rafe! RafeRafeRafe.” You tumble out, desperate. “She means it, babe. She does! I - I believe her!" You say, and he turns his head incredulously, brows shot up to glance at you and laugh, void of humor. He’s looking at you like you’ve betrayed him and he thinks maybe you have. Incredulously, he asks; “What’s she ever done for you to make you believe her? Come on baby, I know you’re smarter than that.” He tells you, turning his body to meet you halfway. “You tried to drown her, Rafe.” You level with him, "I think the playing field is even. You can be angry but this is your best chance to do better.”

He breathes deeply and grips the bridge of his nose between his pointer finger and thumb, eyes clenching shut trying to gather himself. Your hand tightens around his arm, not realizing your nails are digging craters into his skin.

He’s nodding his head tauntingly, “Do better…me, do better.” He scoffs. "What happens when she changes her mind? In a week…in a month…in a year? You ready to live every day like..” Sarah cuts him off by quickly rushing out “I promise! I want the same thing you do. I want to be free of dad, too.” She says shyly, looking at you while she says it. “I also want better for my niece than what we had.” She says, and it makes you want to cry. You can’t help the hitch in your breath at her statement, because god…so do you.

“Rafe please...” You beg him, tugging his hand with yours and you can see the struggle in his mind. Your heart races because this decision decides so much more than just one thing. It also decides so many things for you and the baby inside you.

He huffs, defeated when he finally looks at you and almost silently says “Okay."

THEN

Your body is rigid as you realize two things.

One, you don’t need to feel unsafe. You are unsafe.

Two, the exact thing you’d been dreading, the idea that you tried to push out of your mind over and over rather than manifesting to fruition had come true.

You couldn’t trust him.

He’d chosen his father again, even though you’d been holding out hope - praying that the idea of his own flesh and blood might be enough to finally cut the tie. No such luck though as Rafe stands next to you, and you no longer feel the warm comfort of his body but instead an ice cold hardness as he extends his hand to you, offering you to take it. You can’t help but look at it, regretfully following the raised cords of his veins running up his forearm, past his bicep and up to his face. Your cheeks are stained with tears, your eyes pleading and you can’t believe that this is actually happening. You glance over to your mom who stands with Ward, her body wrapped in his arms like he’s trying to console her. You can’t help the humorless laugh combines with a sob that escapes your lips as you look at them and then back to Rafe. You ignore his outstretched limb, instead getting onto your own two feet.

You’re irate, shaking with anger and fear. “Y - You can’t make me do this! Any of you. I’m going to go live with Dad.” You shake your head and say, and your mother’s eyes widen before Ward interjects.

“Y/N, do you really think I’m going to allow the Cameron name to have incestuous ties to it? Do you have any idea what would become of any of this?” He outstretches his arms to motion around him. “You can try to go and live with your father, but regardless of where you’re living, you will not be doing it with a child.” He states matter of factly and you blubber on another sob before begging. “Please, don’t make me do this…” You plead, not caring how humiliating it may be to beg a man who didn’t care about you, but what choice do you have? When your own boyfriend - the father of the baby in your belly couldn’t stand up for you.

Ward looks beside you at Rafe and stoically says “I’m trusting you to see this followed through, son.” You glance over at Rafe to see him nod curtly and you can’t help but crinkle your eyes and scoff. Fucking pathetic. "This is insane! Rafe! Say something!” You shriek, and you don’t know how you’re not dreaming…or having a nightmare. He doesn’t deserve the title of father. Reality socks you right in the face in that moment - that you truly had no one. But you had the baby under your heart and that baby didn’t have anyone except you. Not even the other person responsible for their existence.

It’s a flash of motion before you’re kicking against his body as he throws you as gently as he can into the passenger seat of his truck. The entire time, your clawing at his arms, hurling curses at him. You can’t help but scream when he slams the door on you and tells you not to move. You grab the door handle without thinking and throw it open, dropping to your feet on the ground and shoving at his chest with your hands, telling him to “get the fuck away from you”, but his hands fly back onto your biceps, pushing you back against the open truck. He tilts his head down to yours to try to press his lips to yours, and fortunately you have enough sense to push against him with your chest and you spit in his face. You’re breathing heavily, crying now and twisting in his grasp as you mumble out a quiet and defeated “How can you do this to me?”

It’s then that he truly looks at you. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, too repulsed by his inability to be a man. So you let your resolve wilt and your shoulders slump as your body racks with tears.

He cautiously and carefully helps you back into the truck, your will crumbling as you continue to sob.

You watch with hatred and try to calm your breathing by taking deep audible gasps to see him round the front of the truck and climb into the drivers seat. He looks over at you and you start in immediately. He doesn’t even have his buckle on before you tell him how disgusting he is.

“You’re such a pig.” You say, tiredly. "You can cum inside me but then you knock me up and now this is your call too?” You seeth, not breaking your gaze on him. You reach out, taking his hand in your own and tugging it to land on your stomach. “You’re going to make me kill our baby?” Your insides feel like they’re on fire, a burning in your gut and you don’t plan on stopping.

He’s watching you back before tugging his hand back to land on the center console, throwing the truck into reverse.

“You’re a pussy and I can’t believe I ever let you have mine. I regret ever even meeting you.”

“I won't even call you a man, you’re not a man. You couldn’t even stand up for me. You’re so fucking pathetic."

“Gonna let your daddy make every decision for you? When are you gonna grow up?"

The entire car ride is filled with nothing but your own insults, and you wish he’d fight back, say something. But you’re tired - so tired but you’re so betrayed and you really don’t think you’ve ever felt this much hatred toward another person. It makes you sick, bile filling your esophagus. He tricked you over and over, and you were stupid enough to believe it each time.

“I fucking hate you and I regret ever loving you.” He finally looks over to you, and you meet his stare to say

"I will never forgive you for this."

He’s barreling into the parking lot, throwing the truck into park before reaching over to grip your jaw in his hand. He shakes you to look at him, and you swear there’s steam coming off of you as your eyes meet his. His breath is fanning down your face as he covers your lips with his own, kissing you with such force that you’re not able to push him off, so instead you groan in reject, before biting his lip. He pulls back like you stabbed him and your palm connects hard with his cheek in a cracking slap. His eyes are dark and he finally says something.

“We’re going in there and we’re going to make everyone believe you had an abortion. Kay?” He searches your eyes before asking again, “Okay?” He asks, head tilted as if he’s trying to hear your answer and your lip wiggles up in repulse. You don’t know if you heard him correctly. You surely couldn’t have. How could he deceive you like this?

“W - What?” You ask, confused. “What the fuck does that mean, Rafe?” You ask again, and he pulls your face back to his again and kisses you once more, but this time you don’t have the will to fight back. So you go limp in his hands, your body trembles from nerves. His hands find your shoulders to steady you before breaking apart from your lips and muttering a gentle “I’m so sorry, baby."

You can’t help but bring your hands up to his chest to shove him off of you and ask again “What the fuck do you mean?! What the fuck are you saying?!” You’re shouting at him and hot tears spring back to your eyes as you swat his hands away that are trying to find you. “No! No! NO! Don’t fucking touch me! What are you saying?” You’re trembling with full sobs now, screaming and crying at the same time, because he can not be doing this to you. “What the fuck?” You shout, eyes blown wide.

His face is contorted in emotional turmoil as he hastily grabs your hands to hold in his, tugging you closer to him and you don’t fight him when he tucks your head under his chin, pulling you closer to him.

“Baby girl…please take a breath. They needed to believe it. You needed to believe it, I couldn’t have made myself drive here if you didn’t. I’m so fucking sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, baby. You’re okay, please tell me you’re okay.” His own voice is shaky now, eyes rolling over you while rocking you without being totally aware he’s doing it, the both of you crying. You’re so numb, you don’t even have the ability to form words together to say anything to him, but you’re so checked out at this point that whatever you could have mustered up wouldn’t have done what you’re feeling any justice anyway.

You’re sickened by this entire thing, by him, by yourself, by your mother, Ward…and you quickly shove Rafe away from you before throwing the car door open to retch into the parking lot. You’re scrambling to get out as fast as you can, throwing yourself out to bend over. You’re faintly aware of Rafe suddenly next to you, quickly gathering your hair behind you, grabbing your arm to steady you as he whispers in your ear “I’ve got you.”

----

Your hand was in Rafe’s, your side close by his as the two of you walk back through the threshold to Tanneyhill, both of you silent when you were met with Ward and your mother, standing clearly waiting for you to return. You couldn’t meet your mothers eyes, so instead you looked to Ward who was only looking at his son before stepping forward and grabbing him by the shoulders tightly, his palm holding the back of his head. Your hand still tightly gripped in his, Rafe stood stoically, not returning his father’s embrace, and you glanced up to see his eyes staring straight ahead, emotionless. The two of you had been through hell tonight, mentally and emotionally drained, the bother of fake emotions too much to even try to facade.

“You’re okay, son.” Ward says to Rafe, kissing the side of his head and you think you’re going to vomit again. You can’t help but tug on Rafe’s hand when your mother approaches you. You don’t dare to look at her, instead keeping your eyes trained on Rafe, your heart clenching when you see tears stream down his cheeks and you hear him tell Ward “I’m not okay dad, She’s not okay.” He states it matter of factly but your step father is quick to brush him off, telling him he is okay, that he’s fine, that he’s going to feel differently in the morning. It’s then that you choke on a sob on its way out of your mouth, because how can this man be so okay after the idea that you’d just murdered his first grandchild. That he’d forced you to have your baby torn out of your body, the baby that was made out of love between you and his son. It makes you positively sick and you’re truly not sure how you're managing to stand on your feet.

Your both crying now when you feel your mothers warm hands on each of your cheeks, pulling your face to look at her. Finally, you meet her eyes and you just truly can’t. How the woman who birthed you was about to console you over the thought of not being able to do the same to your own child. It was sick, twisted, horrific. She pulls your body into hers and you fight as much as you can, which isn’t much. Your hand is being strangled by Rafe’s grip, but you’re squeezing back just as tightly because it’s the only thing keeping your body upright and your mind knowing that it’s not real. That it didn’t really happen - not what they’re thinking.

“You did the right thing, baby. Thank you.” Your mother tells your eyebrows furrow in regret and upset, your body pulling back, desperately trying to wiggle out of her grasp, her hands around your shoulders. You’re grunting and blubbering in frustration so deep it feels like you’re suffocating. You manage to look over the arm wrapped beside your face to see Rafe staring at you with the same defeat in his eyes that you feel in your own. “I love you.” You gargle out, voice thick with sadness. You don’t care what your mom or Ward have to say or think about it but you tell him again, but this time adding his name at the end. “I love you Rafe.” And you finally manage to shove your mother off of you, her feet stumbling back and she calls your name. You look at her and tell her “I hate you. You’re a disgusting excuse for a mother and you will never hear me call you that again. Looking at you makes me sick. I hope one day you feel the pain I feel inside of me right now, because you deserve it and so much more.” Your sneering, your top lip curled up in disgust as you spit through your teeth, finally looking over to your step father.

You take a deep breath before saying “I love your son more than you will ever be able to imagine that you love him. You choosing to deprive him of that love shows how disgusting of a father you are."

You take a deep breath and close your eyes tightly, tears streaming down as you tearfully add

"He would have been the best dad.” You nearly choke on your sob as you say the words, your voice raised an octave through the pain of the tears shaking through your body. You’re watching your boyfriend as you say it and the cringe on his mouth and look in his eyes hurt you worse than you expect. His usual demeanor, his nature to protect and defend is void, leaving a vulnerable boy who you don't recognize, and it physically hurts to watch him like this. Imagining the alternative outcome of tonight was too close, the idea that your uterus could be working to evict his baby right now all too real and Rafe immediately starts to sob. Your nerves are wound so tightly together, you’re shaking.

Ward is emotionless, still holding Rafe to his body, too emotionally spent to try to relent. But somehow he manages to tell you “It’s okay” and “I love you so much”, and his heart is swelling in his chest but his stomach is wound up in knots just like yours. What do you have to lose now? To everyone else, they’ve kept you from each other, forced you to become strangers, and now evacuate your body of the one thing it did right.

NOW

You’re sat in the middle seat of Limbrey’s truck, Rafe in the drivers seat and Sarah in the passenger. It’s quiet, your bags and Pope’s cross in the bed. Sarah texted John B to set up a meeting point to meet the Pogues to return the heirloom, and the tension is turning unease in your gut.

You break the silence by taking a deep breath and grabbing Sarah’s hand and quietly muttering “You don’t know what we’ve been through. What he’s been through.” You say regretfully, shutting your eyes in remorse before continuing, wanting to tell her everything. You hadn’t been able to confide in anyone and it was exhausting.

“I told you that your father thinks the baby is gone. He found out about her and his first thought was to take her away from us.” You say, tears unable to be kept at bay. Her hand squeezes yours and Rafe calls your name.

You tense, continuing. “No, Rafe. She needs to know.” You say, not bothering to look at him.

“Rafe drove to that clinic at 10 o clock at night and he paid people off so that they would lie and say they aborted a baby. They gave me papers that had details on what to look for in the adult diapers I would've had to wear that would have been the remains of our baby. Can you imagine what that was like? Sitting in a room where we found out I was 11 weeks pregnant and know that I was there so that the result of the love between me and your brother could be taken out of me just because your father and my mother said so?" You scoff before continuing.

"11 weeks is past the time they can give you a pill to terminate a pregnancy. I would have had to have her physically removed from my body." You furrow your brows because it's painful to talk about, but it's your reality. Rafe is silent next to you, so you sneak your hand over to his thigh to give him a reassuring squeeze. You know this isn't easy for him to relive. "I don’t know how to come back from that. We don’t know how to come back from that.” You tell her, your hand squeezing the life from hers.

She’s looking at you in horror, maybe even disbelief and it's then that Rafe's hand moves from under yours to snake around your waist and palm your belly. His fingers clutch at you in reassurance and protection as you glance down and cover it with your own before breathing in deeply.

“So Sarah, please help me understand...because I don’t know how we’re supposed to be okay anymore."

NEXT PART

Please interact! It’s pretty much the sole reason we as writers continue to write. I’d love to hear from you guys what you’d like to see in this story via ask box/requests. I will answer any and all submissions! NOTE that I will NOT add you to the tag list if you are only commenting to add to the list.

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See y’all soon!

[guttednights]

your bar.

You've worked in the same bar for the past 3 years. It's fairly common for military men to come in and get drinks together. It's always soap, gaz, price, and the one in a mask.

One night you finally speak to the guy in the skull mask. "your name is?" as he looks at you, his cold eyes lighten.

"ghost," he said gruffly when soap elbowed him, he shot soap a glare and sighed making eye contact with you. "Simon. simon Riley." he gruffs.

you can't help but smile. "well then Simon Riley. want your usual?"

"Please," he says coldly

you and your friend spent the rest of the night talking about simon. "god i dont know what it is about him but." "jeez.."

"oh ew! shut up" your friend replies walking to the other side of the bar

you giggle "ah cmon, its not as nasty as you and your thing for that old one.

she giggles. "price is hot because hes a gentle man. simon just looks like he could hurt anyone."

"thats what i like" "feels like hed go to jail for me"

She rolls her eyes "okay mrs delusional."

the next few days some tension between you and simon grew. he cant keep his eyes off you. your literal eyecandy to him. and you notice.

"sarah he keeps staring" you say entering the back to "refill something"

she squeals. "girl hes so into you!"

you roll your eyes, "oh whatever."

Later that night soap walks up to the bar,

"hey y/n, you know my big friend Simon? ya he wants ye number"

your heart practically stops beating. "uh.. yeah sure here" You quickly write it on a napkin and hand it to him. you watch as soap runs away like a schoolgirl giggling to Simon as he hands it to him.

the whole rest of the night you were shocked. The big huffy man you think is hot wanted your number?

around 2 am you jolt awake as your phone buzzes. you grab your phone, its him.

"hey gorgeous its simon, or "big masked man"

"Hi simon" god you cant believe this is happening is this real?

"you should be asleep. what you doing up?"

ur heart flutters, (GOING FERAL LIKE YES PLS BOSS ME AROUND) "couldnt sleep"

"any reason why?"

(yes Simon ur the reason why) "nope no praticular reason why, just one of those nights."

"alright. want to get coffee tomorrow?"

"coffee?!" you think to yourself "Omg it's happening.."

"id love to get coffee"

"great. ill see you at happy cafs tomorrow at 9 am."

"see you there"

your freaking out literally, the man of your literal dreams is asking to go out on a coffee date?! Is it a date..?

"is this considered a date?" you text him a few minutes later

"yes, sweetheart. it's considered a date lol"

you throw your phone across the room screaming and kicking your feet. you can't sleep the rest of the night. too busy thinking about what to wear. finally at 6 am you give up and hit the shower, then walk to your closet. "god do I wear a dress? jeans hoodie?" finally you decide on a long-sleeved black dress, perfect for winter. you straighten your hair, do your makeup, and hype yourself up.

8:55 and you're a minute away from the cafe when u see him pull up. your heart drops. you're so excited yet so nervous, u practically black out until you bump into him.

"op, watch out there" he chuckles, "looking at your feet while you walk sweetheart or?"

you chuckle, "Sorry lost in my thoughts." sweetheart?! You can't help but blush as he puts his hand on the lower part of your back and directs you inside. you both sit down at a booth and a waitress comes over. you both order and wait.

you can't help but stare at him, even tho you haven't seen his face his eyes just capture you.

"I'm not gonna lie, sweetheart,. I can't keep my eyes off you at the bar,"

"might as well claim ye before you are no longer available" he smirks as you blush and look away

you spend the next 3 hours just talking getting to know him. And before you know it, (in a few weeks of course) you are dating, officially his. the man of your dreams is officially yours.

side notes: i dont know if i like this tbh. it feels really long and i almost lost what else to say. if u want a part 2 (MAYBE SMUTTY VERS. i can do it lmk!!!)

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Break it first

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 2

Prompt: Came back wrong

Rated: M

CW: Mind control/brainwashing; Possessive behavior; Referenced character death; Aftermath of trauma; Aftermath of injury; Kidnapping

Tags: Kas!Eddie Munson; Dark Eddie Munson

Notes: So, I already had a fill for this prompt, but then @house-of-the-moving-image showed me this stunning piece of art and my brain broke like Steve's. We both have a bunch of other fills coming up for this challenge, quite a few of them collabs, and I'm so, so stoked to share!!! ❤️

He still remembers how fragile Steve looked. 

They were in the boat house, Steve and Eddie. The others had gone out for supplies, but Steve had insisted on hanging back. Eddie hadn’t protested, even though the thought made his heart rabbit. 

The second they were alone, Steve let himself slide down the wall and curled into a ball on the floor, face hidden between hunched knees, shaking hands clawing at his own temples. 

“Hey, man!” Eddie jumped in alarm. “You okay?” 

Steve took a while to reply. 

“Fine,” he claimed, but his smile was a tense thing in a too-pale face. “Just headaches. Been getting them a lot. Robin thinks it's 'cause I got knocked around a few times too many." 

Eddie quirked an eyebrow, pulled a strand of hair in front of his face. "That … happen often in your line of business?" 

And Steve told him. 

About fighting monsters with nothing but a nail bat. About Billy Hargrove. About Russian torture chambers and the headaches and the nightmares and the ringing in his right ear that never really went away. He looked so young, so beautiful, so broken. Eddie wanted to scoop him up and put him back together and hold him close so that nothing would ever hurt him again. 

But he didn't. 

Instead, he watched. 

Watched how Steve squared his shoulders and put on a brave face for the kids. Watched as Steve threw himself to the front lines so that others wouldn’t have to. Watched as Steve got choked and torn apart, that golden skin painted in new scars, and told everyone not to worry, he was fine.

Eddie watched and Eddie didn't do a thing. 

Because Eddie was weak. 

Eddie was a coward.

It's a good thing he's dead. 

*

Steve is still the one to throw himself into danger first. That's good. It makes it easy to catch him alone. 

"You still have the scar on your neck …" 

A flick of his wrist and the bats scatter into the clouds. Steve curses, scrambles to his knees, gropes for his fallen weapon- and freezes as he cradles his face in both hands, tilting his head up. 

"... Eddie?" 

"Not quite," he hums, sharp claws carding through soft hair. "I have his body and his memories, that's all. The name's Kas. I've been dying to meet you, sweet thing." 

Those caramel eyes go wide. Steve tenses under his hands, tries to scramble away. That's okay, to be expected. He tightens his grip. Steve gasps as the vines on the ground wrap around his wrists and ankles. 

"What are you-?" 

"Sssh…" he brings their foreheads together, softly, slowly. Lets his mind wiggle inside the boy's, just a sliver at first, so he won't notice. Finds a crack, fine as a hairline, slips inside. Waits. "He was so in love with you, y'know that? It ate him alive, watching you sacrifice yourself over and over again. Seeing you suffer. Being unable to help, being unable to fix it." 

Steve's mind flutters like a frightened bird as he encases it with his, gently, carefully. His arms twitch in their restraints, trying to break free.

He smiles. Always the fighter, his sweet boy.

"Dont worry," he coos. “I’ve got it all figured out now sweetheart. I’ll fix everything, promise." 

"Eddie, wait-" Steve's mind flails. Realizes it's trapped, panicks, tries to break free- 

And he pounces. 

Steve struggles, briefly, but he doesn’t stand the ghost of a chance. He's human, and humans are weak. All it takes is a little pressure, and the tiny crack opens wide, welcoming him in. 

Steve screams.

"I know, sweet thing, I know," he coos, curls himself around the boy's spasming body as he digs in deeper. "It'll only hurt for a moment. You'll feel so much better after."

He sees them now, the scars on that beautiful mind, the traces left by years and years of hurt. Sees how to fix them, sees what Eddie could never have seen. What Eddie was too soft, too cowardly to understand.

Sometimes, to fix something, you need to break it first. 

And he does.

Tears at the cracks of that mind until it comes apart at the seams, shatters the fragments into so many tiny shards, grinds what is left into fine, fine dust. Steve screams and sobs and begs him to stop until his voice breaks. By the time the dust is ready to be molded back into shape, he is silent, bar for the occasional whimper.

He tells the vines to release their hold, cradles the limp body against his chest. He hums softly and kisses the tears from under the boy's unblinking eyes while he completes his work. He takes his time. This needs to be perfect. 

"You with me, darling?" 

Steve hums against the crook of his neck, so softly he nearly misses it. 

When he looks down, those pretty eyes are blinking up at him, wide and wondrous like those of a newborn. 

He chuckles. It's true in a way. 

"Feeling all better?" he asks, claws softly tracing the shell of his boy's right ear. "Ringing should be gone?" 

Steve doesn’t reply, just slips his eyes shut and nuzzles closer, every movement slow and sluggish. 

He coos.

"Aw, sweetheart. You must be exhausted, that was a lot to take." He gently scratches at Steve's scalp, revels in the little sigh it gets him. "Don't worry. From now on, nothing's gonna hurt you ever again. I'll make sure of it." 

Steve stirs a little at the soft press of lips against his forehead. His lids flutter, but they don’t open.

"That's it, honey, you rest. Let's take you home now." 

By the time he has adjusted Steve's weight so that he can stand and start walking, his boy is fast asleep. 

All of my holiday drabbles

[saltwaterburns]

Hi, hello. Could I request an Anthony Lockwood x reader fic, maybe with the reader comforting Lockwood after a near death experience during a case/when stress becomes too much/after a nightmare (your choice, truly)

Thank you so much in advance! I love your writing and I look forward to reading what you make of this request (no pressure though!!)

je sais pas m'oublier

summary: you comfort lockwood after a mission almost gone wrong and somehow end up tangled together with him in the library

warnings: lockwood gets injured and they don't kiss 😕

pairing: anthony lockwood x gn!reader

a/n: AAAAAA MY FIRST EVER FIC THATS A REQUEST. This is very nerve wrecking btw I don't want to disappoint anyone. If it's bad it's cause of nerves. I love you guys sm, all of your notifications make my day. And!!! When requesting I'd loveloveLOVE if you'd specify the readers gender! I tried to make this gn but it might tilt towards fem reader ;(

And to this lovely anon, i adore you endlessly!!! 🩷

It was supposed to be a simple case. Get there, find the source, capture it, get out. It really didn't seem like something to make a big deal out of. Yet here you were, desperately digging the ground for multiple sources alongside George while Lucy and Lockwood are trying to fight off the wailing type twos surrounding your lot.

"I've never wanted Kipps and his crew to show up more than right now." You laugh, a hint of worry sprinkled upon it. George snorts and you grin at the sound, your hands steadily guiding the shovel that's digging the ground, not a spot on your body left that appears clean. You feel small droplets of rain start to drop down and the waters of panic lap at your feet, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The possibility of you not making it out in one piece tonight just became very real. If the rain continues, you won't be able to see the ghosts well enough to fight them off.

As if on cue, your shovel hits something wet, hard and slippery. Bones. You shout for George and leave him to deal with the sources, hauling yourself up the muddy hole to go and help your friends.

Your gaze settles on Lockwood. He seems to be doing fine at first glaze, but as you look closer, you see that he's limping. Why on Earth would he be limping? You dont have enough time to wallow on that because he falls, his rapier flying just a few inches too far for him to grasp.

You shout for him and without thinking, grab a magnesium flare off your belt, throwing it somewhere in the direction of the ghost. The explosion would've knocked you off your feet but your mind is locked on him, his lanky frame, that now on the ground looks small, fragile even.

"Lockwood, Locky are you alright?" You ask, dropping down on to your knees next to him, gently cradling his face in your hands. He groggily opens his eyes and you practically sob, pulling him close to you. His brown curls tickle your face but you only hold him tighter, smiling to yourself as you feel his arms slowly making their way around you.

"Fucks sake, you scared me. Scared me so bad. Why were you limping? You could have been ghost touched." You murmur, pressing a kiss to his head after every word. You don't give him time to answer before pulling away, cupping his cheeks and resting your forehead against his. His eyes flutter shut, dark lashes brushing against pale cheeks. How does he always manage to look so breathtaking?

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I messed up a manoeuvre and slipped on the grass, it was rather stupid of me." He apologises, but you only hold him tighter.

George finishes up securing the sources with Lucy and all five of you start the journey back to Portland Row, soaking wet and covered in mud, awaiting the box of Arif's donuts that are sitting on the kitchen table.

You exit the steaming bathroom, a pink towel wrapped around your upper body, soaking wet hair leaving a path of tiny droplets all the way to your and Lucy's room. The ginger girl is fast asleep under the mountain of covers, soft snores emitting from her. You turn off her bedside lamp, darkness swallowing the room. You're used to the darkness, the way it disables all your senses at first. You pay it no mind and slip into a grey 'The Rolling Stones' t-shirt, rough drying your hair with the towel before disregarding it somewhere.

You don't go straight to bed. Something is crippling inside you, chewing on your heart. You leave your room and walk downstairs, stopping in front of the library door. Light is bleeding through the cracks all around the door, and you instantly know who's awake in there at this hour. It's him, always him.

You knock on the door a few times and twist the door knob, stepping into the dimly lit room. Lockwood is sitting there; his hair damp, his sleep shirt a little soaked as well. He has a book in his lap and it looks like he's trying to read but something is bothering him.

"Hey, you. I wanted to check up on you. Are you okay?" You ask, your voice barely above a whisper. He sighs softly and closes the book, putting it away before patting on the spot next to him, signalling for you to come and sit. You do exactly that and sit down next to him, looking a little worried.

He's warm. You can feel the heat emitting from him, his body. Its heating up your cheeks, tinting them pink.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm alright. Just shaken I suppose. Felt like I was looking death himself right in the eye for a second there." He chuckles, but there isn't any amusement laced in it. You don't reply to him, you just take his hand in yours and lace your fingers together.

Nothing else is said throughout the night. When George finds you two in the morning, he's laying on top of you, his head on your chest and his arms around your waist. You're holding him close to you, your grip unrelenting.

Part two, yes no maybe?!?! I hope you guys enjoyed 😁Feedback is always more than appreciated !!

[hetaherr]

the moon as our witness

: wanderer/ scaramouche x reader

: i dont know how to tag this, maybe fluff? crack?? angst

hey this is my writing practice because i struggle with the flow of my writing, especially like pacing and stuff so it's pretty bad imo TT but it's practice so its allg ig. this is very experimental , and i feel a little outta my element because i lowkey am hella informal with the way i write and IM JUST REALLY NOT USED TO IT???? anyway thanks for reading and if u have any advice please drop them! ok anyway reblog to win ur 5050s love u

watching the scene lay out in front of you was the very embodiment of your doomsday, it was the nearest thing to an apocalypse you'd ever seen- to your world of course. it felt like you were spiraling, you felt so asphyxiated as you watched him press himself against that- that bitch as if you didn't even exist. and almost as if the world was solely out to get you tonight, cigarettes after sex just had to start playing. like seriously, was catching your boyfriend cheat on you not gutting enough as it is, you did not need a song to tell you when to 'cry'.

pushing through the sea of people transitioning from jumping up and down to swaying with their partners was absolutely suffocating. in any other circumstance, the crowd would've been just right- like the calm ocean after a storm. but at this very moment, it felt like you were drowning, being dragged into the abysmal nothing that was the deep blue sea.

with a slam of the door, you found yourself rescued by the crisp night air. barely making it a few steps, you crumble by the side of the road. it feels like tonight the tears stung even worse than usual, you can't scream, you can't wail, your throat is all clawed up and drowning feels like it's becoming a lot more literal than metaphorical at this moment.

through your tears, the faint echo of music can be heard, and a soft clink sounds beside you.

"i think you need this more than me." he says, you cant see him clearly through the tears that still continue to pour. you look down and there's a glass bottle of whatever everyone's been drinking tonight.

"i don't drink."

"you look like you should." he comments, you can only scoff at the remark. he takes a seat beside you, a bottle in hand. he hesitates a second, but you don't tell him to bug off. there's a soft silence that comes with his presence, neither of you talk- unless you consider crying to be talking. it feels so pathetic, you can't understand what you could've done to be tossed aside so easily. but the more you think about it, the harder it becomes to contain your emotions.

"ah fuck this." you mumble, reaching out to take a swig of liquid courage. you hiss as it leaves a burning sensation down your throat, flushing your tears away leaving behind a bitter taste. the boy, shifts his gaze toward you- his head resting on his knees, hair framing his face so nicely and it feels a little unfair how fucking pretty he is.

"so much for not drinking." he says, his face is blank but there's a teasing notion to his words and just the way he was looking at you. you let him stare, violet eyes burning into your skin you feel like it's going to leave an imprint. you look back at him, under the warm glow of the street lamp. as you share the gaze, there's a feeling of guilt that has been set aflame within the pits of your heart, after all you still hadn't broken up with that jackass.

you unconsciously continue to stare at the boy, pondering. should you just break up with him through text? should you storm in and scream? should you even make a scene? maybe ghost him?

"a penny for your thoughts?" he speaks up, words so gentle it makes your heart flutter and it feels like the guilt burns worse than the alcohol.

"do you want to help me break up with my cheating boyfriend?" you think out loud. you watch his eyebrows furrow, and for a second you wonder if you made him uncomfortable. he blinks at you, and then slightly shrugs.

"sure."

within seconds, the chilly breeze outside is replaced with the smell of sweat, cigs and alcohol. it's disgusting. the boy takes your hand and lets you guide him through the horde of horny and drunk people that were either passed out or making out. you are reminded of why you didn't frequent these parties. the floor is sticky and you just hope whatever it is you just stepped on was not human fluids. and then you see him, sprawled across the couch with the same girl sitting way too close to be considered 'just friends'. with a smile so smug, that made you glad god gave you patience and not strength.

"that's him?" noticing your hesitance to move forward, the boy follows your gaze. the tears are already threatening to spill yet again, anymore and you fear the headache that follows. and yet your feet don't move, all the courage that that brown bottle clearly gave you wasn't strong enough. you barely hear his words, it feels like your body is moving on it's own as you nod. you hear the boy sigh, his hands gently grab your wrist and pulls you behind his frame. you're not able to react before he speaks up, this time his voice is a lot more harsh.

"yo asshole." he shouts, his hand still gripping onto yours, though it is a lot tighter than before. it startles people around you, and just like all humans and their natural desire to fulfil their curiosity, heads turn toward your direction. you can't even process the next few seconds, as he grabs the bottle out of your hand and pours whatever was remaining of the now warm booze down all over the cunt that sat before you.

"maybe think twice before cheating dickwad" he can't contain his laughter as he looks your now ex, up and down, eyes full of judgement. you look horrified, looking between the boy and your ex, noticing the rage building up as he spits a variety of cuss words. you can't suppress your own laughter, albeit the fact that it's slightly laced with fear- fear that your new friend would get punch right in the nose. so your feet decide it's time to get the fuck out of here, and you pull him out the door running so fast your gym teacher wouldn't have believed it was you.

there's another wave of silence as the both of you were bent over trying to catch your breath, everything that happened tonight was unpredictable and didn't feel real. you took a peek at the boy, he seemed to have the same thought as you catch his gaze. the silence is finally broken as you start laughing, like a maniac you couldn't stop your giggles. you are glad that there is no one else around to see your fit of laughter. there is still that redness and puffiness of your eyes from earlier, its odd given how drastic the contrast is to your current state, its so big that even the black hole would have a difficult time sucking it in.

"after all this, i still don't know your name." you huff. his violet eyes are morphed into that of a crescent. and with the moon as your witness, he smiles.

"you can call me, scara."

[bbyquokka]

thighs

SUGGESTIVE THEMES BELOW CUT – MINORS, AGELESS & DEFAULT BLOGS; DNI

warning: gender-neutral reader, established relationship, suggestive content, marking (love bites) words: 0.4k ~ (418)

dont repost. dont translate. feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

thinking about marking jisung's soft thighs. nothing but the material of his olive green underwear being a frustrating barrier between you both, stopping jisung from truly feeling your warm and soft skin against his. the waistband sitting low on his body, v lines showing and a small happy trail from his belly button disappearing under the band.

his soft skin flush pink and full of goosebumps as you'd trail your fingertips along his inner thigh, lightly teasing and scratching his skin that leaves faint red marks. his toes curling at the sensation, a tent slowly forming in his underwear.

starting from his knees, you'd ghost your finger up his legs, getting dangerously close to the area he wants you to touch the most. he'd watch your fingers disappearing in his underwear, the tips lightly grazing along his pubic area which would cause his breath to hitch in his throat and heat to rise to his round cheeks.

he'd grow impatient, wanting nothing more than to feel you. he gets that wish after what feels like an eternity of waiting. he would watch you lean down, hair tickling his skin as your soft lips press against the skin of his inner thigh. he'd subconsciously open his legs wider, hand trailing down his chest and stomach to tangle his fingers in your hair. 

your eyes would flutter close. his teeth nibbling the skin of his plump bottom lip. soft kisses would be peppered on his skin, your tongue slowly licking and gliding along his hot skin. his body would be burning with desire and need, his cock twitching evidently in his underwear.

waves of pleasure would gather in the pit of his stomach before spreading to the tips of his fingers and toes. your teeth sinking into his skin, lips pressed firmly as you suckle and bite. you'd decorate his skin in multiple bruises of various shapes and sizes, repeating on the other leg, occasionally switching to even out the pain and pleasure.

by now, jisung would be a whimper mess. face flush, body slick with sweat, hair sticking to his forehead and lips chewed and swollen. he's hungry with need and wants you to hurry so he can devour you all night but he waits. he can see how much fun you'd be having with his thighs, how happy you'd look when a new bruise joins with the rest of them. 

you're only marking what belongs to you and jisung would a thousand percent do the same to you.

note: hello. it is i, your fellow delulu jisung SIMP back at it again. blame this for this mess. i havent stopped thinking about him and his thighs since i came across this pic and all i want to do is mark his skin so so so so so so so so bad. its a need at this point. its been imbedded into my brain and tattooed on my skin. i live breathe and sob at this pic and at him, lmao. am i delulu? yes, yes i am. anyways – don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

tags (open): @sstarryoong ; @myprwttyhan ; @fairylouist ; @unh0ly-dr3am3r ; @septicrebel ; @alyszaen ; @writerracha ; @hyunluvxo ; @aestheticsluut ; @xcookiemonsteer ; @telesvng

[atlantis-just-drowned]

hi!! hope youre having a good day :) would you write a short like,, makeout fic with pluto if you dont mind? thank you!! i love your writing sm

A/N: HI ANON YOU'RE SO KIND OMG!! Thank you for being so patient with me aghgfhgehfg- I just started college and moved in on my own, which is like, a huge change. So yeah life has been hectic those last few months. But hey! Here it finally is!

On a calm afternoon

Please reblog to show support! Likes don't boost posts on Tumblr :(

Masterlist

You could hear the oxygen getting engulfed in his lungs as he breathed in. From where you were resting on Pluto's chest, eyes half-lidded, you could hear every calm breath he took. Your head rising up, then down. Up, then down. Over and over again, to the same rhythm.

It was peaceful, you thought.

The way the sunlight sipped through the window of his room, and the comfortable silence between the two of you as he focused on the book he was reading, sitting on his bed with his legs on each side of your figure.

In your drowsy state, you heard the harmonious sound of air filling his lung, and felt your head raise a little higher as he took a deep breath, grounding you back on earth and taking you away from the sweet slumber you were about to fall into.

You tried to reposition your head with a groan. Somehow, gaining consciousness has made your position less comfortable than it was before, and you let out a small huff.

Just as you stopped moving, you felt the touch of five fingertips grazing at the skin of your skull; the sensation made your eyes flutter open, and you looked up at your boyfriend.

He has that calm, relaxed position. Expression neutral, his eye moving slightly from left to right has he keeps reading his book line after line. In the same time, you could still hear the air in his lungs, and his fingers threading through your hair.

This was everything you had ever wanted.

The circumstances around the two of you were so strange, you had to admit. You still struggled to understand how death could be such a lively experience – having you running around, discovering and learning when you should be laying still, somewhere under the dirt.

But this, this relationship that Pluto and you shared, it was enough to make you forget about it all.

It felt way too much like life to be anything you could possibly find in death. It was so real that it made anything else seem pale and meaningless in comparison.

It was love, your heart told you. And you knew it was true.

The sensation of his hand leaving your hair brought you back to earth, and you pouted at the loss of his delicate touch.

The faintest ghost of a smile painted his lips for a moment as he used his now free hand to turn another page, his eye still fixed on the words.

You couldn’t help but to crave more of him.

The absence of his left hand on your scalp didn’t seem right. It was suddenly making you feel so cold and empty – you wanted his warmth again.

Still against him, you moved further up on his figure, passing your arms underneath him to capture his torso.

His reaction was almost immediate.

You heard a small surprised cry leave him, and felt the muscles in his back and shoulders tense immediately against the palms of your hands.

“Wh… What are you doing?!”

A few weeks ago, Pluto’s anxiousness and bewildered tone would have made you back off instantly, but you were starting to know better. Instead, you melted further against him, nuzzling your face in his neck, earning a shudder from him when your breath hit the base of his jawline, just below his left ear.

“Just cuddling you.” You breathed out with a relaxed tone.

You didn’t move a muscle. After a while of you simply laying on top of him, you felt his breathing slow down little by little, falling back into a calm and even rhythm. His left hand falling onto the back of your head once again, with his fingers threading through your hair.

Another silent moment passed, where you took a deep breath, and sighed. You knew you couldn’t go back to sleep. The yearning for his touch was so addictive – you only wanted to bask in his affection now. To have him as close to you as possible.

Tightening your grip around him, you pressed a firm kiss on his shoulder through the fabric of his clothes.

This time, despite tensing up for a split second, he let out a chuckle in reaction. His chest jumping up and down against yours.

“Now I’m starting to think you might…” he started with a grin, before your teeth grazed slightly against the crook of his neck, the sensation attenuated by his turtle-neck, but still present. He sucked in a breath, and you felt him arch into your touch, his knees bending on each side of you. You were unable to say if the movement was voluntary or not as the rest of his sentence came out in a repressed moan, struggling to form coherent words. “b-be ge-etting a l-little clingy!”

You stopped your attack and grinned pridefully, loving every reaction you could get from him. His left hand was still in your hair, a lot more tense than it was a few seconds ago. Meanwhile, the book he was previously reading was still in his right hand, now closed and held so firmly you were starting to get concerned he might puncture the cover with his fingers.

It didn’t stop you, though.

Pressing another gentle kiss on the dark-haired man’s left shoulder, you dived down to kiss his collarbone through his turtle-neck, your hands tracing the outline of his waist and earning you another shiver, before you slipped them underneath the fabric and against his warm skin.

Pluto let out a groan, his back instantly arching against you like your fingers were burning him in the gentlest way. The book he held fell from his hand as he abandoned it to encircle your shoulders with his arms, hands clawing and gripping at the back of your shirt for support.

He gasped in, stuttering your name before trying to articulate. “W-Wait… T-That’s… That’s n-not cuddling…!”

Your head shot up to look at him. His breath was uneven, his face so warm you wouldn’t be surprised if he started seething. He looked at you with wide opened eyes, his eyebrows pinching up in an anxious expression.

Oh.

Maybe the teasing has gone a bit far, you realized.

Giving him an apologetic smile, you muttered “Sorry. Got a little carried away.” before pressing a gentle, chaste kiss on his lips. “Do you want me to stop?”

There was a silence, and you could feel his hands on each sides of you face, where he has placed them when you had kissed.

He looked at you for a moment, seemingly calming down a little. You could still feel his pulse racing, but the way he detailed your face – your lips – seemed less panicked now. He seemed almost… stunned. Like he was amazed to see you here. Like he struggled to realise this was real.

It was this peculiar look he gave you, that made you want to shout from all rooftops how much you loved him.

His hands held you a little firmer, and he shook his head timidly, your faces so close his nose almost brushed yours.

“No.” He answered in a whisper. So low, yet you could hear the conviction in his tone. “Please don’t.”

The grip Pluto has on you was still gentle as he brought you closer, until you went in and kissed him with a smile.

He wasn’t tense or scared anymore – it was far from being your first kiss by this point. He knew he could trust you to be kind on him.

When your hands roamed higher in his back, pushing his shirt up in the process, he shivered and let out a small moan in response. His arms laid around your neck again, one of his hand messing with your hair.

You couldn’t feel more like a teenager than in that moment. It was insane, you knew it. The way every touch, every second was like you were both seventeen again, smiling and kissing and touching each other for the first time.

You wished this could go on forever.

The way his chest arched into yours when you deepened the kiss, the feeling of his tongue lapping at yours tentatively and the sounds he made at every caress of your fingers. You could never get enough of it.

Your heart was stammering against your ribcage, fuelled by how perfectly your hand could fit on his waist, and how his own hands held you ever-so firmly despite the way they trembled, in an attempt to keep you as close to him as possible, knees locked around you and pushing your body against his.

You were both panting by the time you parted, and Pluto’s face was just as red as your mind was hazy.

Dipping your head down in his neck, you brought your left hand up to hook a finger in the collar of his top, pealing it away from his skin to suck a hickey there.

The dark-haired man tried to hold back a whine through his teeth, tightening his hold on you in an attempt to bring you even closer. He was so precious, you thought. Breathing in and out so fast you doubted the oxygen got through his whole body, as he arched and kept holding on to you like you were a life line. Feeling his skin on your fingertips was a pleasure you couldn’t deny yourself.

And suddenly you heard a knock at the door.

Your arms immediately straightened up to push yourself off of your boyfriend and look at the door. Pluto almost fell from his bed with how far he jumped, gripping your shoulders so tightly it was almost painful. You assumed it would probably hurt a lot more, if being his partner didn’t mean being on the receiving hand of those death grips anytime he got scared.

“Pluto?” You heard his best-friend’s – and roommate’s – voice call from the other side. “Can I come in or is there anything… tricky, going on?”

Your brain was empty. Not a single thought going on. You couldn’t find anything to say.

Given the silence from Pluto, he was probably in the same state of mind. Maybe just more panicked.

Well, one of you had to say something – anything, really. You searched for appropriate words to piece out together into a coherent sentence. It was harder than it should have been. “Uuuuuh…”

“Okay!” Duke’s voice cut you out with a nervous tone before you could even have figured out what to tell him. “That’s enough of an answer, I’ll come back later!”

And then he just… left.

Wow. Okay. What just happened.

You blinked a few times in disbelief. This whole interaction seemed surreal.

When you turned toward your boyfriend again, he gave you the same dumbfounded look you were probably giving him, confirming this whole thing was just as unexpected to him as it was to you.

You stared at each other in complete silence for a moment, until he finally processed the whole chain of events. You saw his face progressively turn a dark shade of red, while his expression slowly went from one of pure shock, to a profound embarrassment.

“Bloody heck…”

He buried his face in your shoulder like you’d be able to hide him from his own discomfort, and you couldn’t help but giggle as you realized what has happened too.

“Stop laughing!” He called out without looking up, trying to scold you but you could hear the smile in his voice. “How am I going to explain this to him, now?!”

If that was supposed to stop you, it sure failed. You only kept laughing as you answered “I don’t think he wants you to explain anything.”

This time, you felt him nuzzling further into the crook of your neck, letting out an embarrassed sound as he swore again. “Oh dammit…”

Sympathizing with his unease, you let your laugher die down and ran a hand through his hair until he calmed down.

[pastanest]

if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to @iamburdened - thanks so much for finding this fic especially, one of my all time favourites to have written!! ♡

Daryl Dixon x she/her!reader

spoilers: set in seasons 2 & 3

Trying

That night could have so easily never happened. If just one thing had been different, if you hadnt chosen to run after Daryl when he stormed off after the group finally found Sophia, if the two of you had walked in a different direction and hadnt found that bar, if either of you had decided to stay sober. But that night, the stars truly did align. When you awoke in the arms of the naked Daryl Dixon, you thought that the stars had been doing you a favour. But within a few weeks, you realised that maybe the stars had actually been playing a cruel trick on you.

The group’s place on the farm was hardly permanent, that was obvious from the get go; you didnt know how much longer you would have a safe environment, you didnt know what to do. You had to tell Daryl, of course you did. The two of you hadnt really spoken since that night, the air was different between you two, the butterflies had escaped your stomachs and fluttered around you, bringing small smiles and rosy cheeks and flirtatious glances, but no conversation. Until you speed walked over to Daryl’s tent, your fists clenched so hard your knuckles hurt, your head spinning and your heart pounding.

“Daryl-“

He turned around as soon as he heard your voice, and he barely had to look at you before he was holding your shoulders and searching your eyes. “Hey, ya alright? Ya look like ya’ve seen a damn ghost!”

You chuckled airily, feeling the weight of your words without you even having to say them, and knowing that once you did, they’d only feel heavier. “We need to talk.”

Daryl frowned at you, concerned and obviously a little awkward, not knowing where this ‘talk’ was headed. You could tell that whatever he thought you might say, it was definitely not what left your lips.

“Daryl...Im pregnant.”

His face was unreadable, but unlike every other occasion when it had been difficult to decipher, his usual storminess wasnt present. Daryl stared at you wordlessly, and you felt the weight of your words crushing you until you burst into over-explaining yourself.

“I-I know the baby’s yours, I havent slept with anyone else, b-but I dont expect you to- we dont even know how much longer we’ll be on the farm, it’s stupid to keep it, sorry, forget I even-“ You were rambling, shaking your head and running your hands through your hair, until Daryl grabbed your hands to stop you.

“If ya don’ wan’ it, tha’s up to you, it’s yer body. But, ya don’ gotta give it up, if ya don’ want to.” His words were hoarse, and you could finally read what his eyes were telling you; there were too many emotions, too much shock, he couldnt put those things into words, but he didnt need to.

“Y-You...You want to do this? Daryl, we arent even together, we had sex once and now there’s a baby in the middle of all this and I just...are you sure?” You stared up at him, searching through the waves of emotion in his eyes to try and find an answer.

“Aint nobody else I’d wanna try this with, but if ya dont want a kid now, we can jus’ wait to have one when yer ready.” Daryl was shy, his cheeks blushing beneath his stubble as he avoided your eyes, but his hands still held yours.

You smiled up at him then, the fog in your mind clearing to reveal the answer you needed. “We can try.”

Daryl’s gaze snapped up from the ground to meet your eyes, studying your face for any sign of uncertainty, and in the span of two seconds he found none. He broke out into a smile, which widened into a grin, then into a laugh as he lifted you up in his arms and spun you around, making you laugh too. When Daryl placed you back down on the ground, he held you close to his chest.

“Anythin’ ya need, anythin’ at all, jus’ tell me. Any prob’ems, anyone gives ya a hard time about anythin’, I’ll deal with ‘em.” He promised you, sniffling into your hair, his tears of bliss dampening your ponytail.

You nodded into his chest. “I know, you’ve always kept me safe.”

That statement was true from the very first moment you’d met Daryl. He’d always felt a protectiveness over you, and he couldnt hold back from acting on it. Anytime you’d encountered a walker, he’d all but sprint in front of you to act as a human shield, or he’d fire his crossbow before you’d had the chance to even lift your knife. At first, it annoyed you a little; you felt that Daryl thought you couldnt handle yourself. You confronted him about it angrily, and you’d expected him to get angry at you right back, to tell you that if you didnt get yourself in danger all the damn time - which you had to admit, you did have a bad habit of doing - he wouldnt have to save you. Instead, Daryl just sat at his tent silently, head hanging, and guilt consumed you. Immediately, you apologised for biting his head off and sat down next fo him, and you told him that he made you feel safer than anyone, you just didnt want him to risk himself for you like he always did.

“Rather go out protectin’ you than jus’ gettin’ eaten fer nothin’.” Daryl had mumbled, and although he’d tried to play off how much he cared about you, his message was crystal clear to you.

If you thought he was protective of you then, you had no idea what was awaiting you when you were pregnant with Daryl’s baby. He was at your side 24/7. You were more than happy to move in his tent on the farm, but Daryl moved it closer to the rest of the group so that there were more people to protect you if shit hit the fan. Naturally, Daryl’s sudden clinginess to you, and his ferocity towards anyone who asked him about it, got everyone in the group clued in that something was going on. It was actually Dale that figured it out first. You were hanging some washing out to dry, and he casually approached you in the way Dale did when he had something to say.

“Daryl’s a good guy.” He mused, and you nodded, beaming at him.

“Yeah, he is.” You glanced over at Daryl, who Dale had made sure was in a conversation with Rick a safe distance away from you, so that he could talk to you without your bodyguard tearing him a new one.

“I’ve never seen him so...territorial, over anyone. Closest thing was Merle, and that made sense, that was the only family he had. But you, you arent family to him. That is, unless you and him now have a new...family connection.” Dale guessed, your head whipping back around to stare at him with wide eyes. Seeing your expression, Dale laughed. “Dont worry, your secret’s safe with me. Just let me know if you need anything! Not that I suppose I’ll get the chance to help before-“

And as if by magic, Daryl appeared at your side, taking the basket of washing from your arms and giving you a nod, a silent question of if everything was alright, and you returned the nod to answer.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” Daryl verbalised his next question, directed to Dale, accompanied by a scowl, which you playfully poked Daryl’s chest for.

Dale smiled. “Oh, nothing! Just everyday conversation. (Y/N), I have to say, you are positively glowing today!” He teased, and you laughed, smiling at the old man kindly as he walked away.

“Thank you Dale!” You called after him, and when you looked to Daryl, he was frowning.

“The hell was ‘at?” He asked, his question harsh but his voice always soft when he talked to you.

“Dale guessed. He was smart about it, got my guard down by mentioning what a good guy you are.” You chuckled and shook your head, grabbing more clothes from the basket in Daryl’s arms to hang on the line.

Though Daryl was still on full alert, a small smile curled at the corner of his mouth. “Good guy, huh?”

You grinned at him. “Yup! And Im sure you’ll be more than a good dad.” You stood on your tiptoes to kiss Daryl’s cheek, making him blush furiously as he scoffed.

As a result of the mental and physical wounds that his father left, Daryl understandably had his own anxieties about the kind of father he would be. Up until you’d told him you were pregnant, Daryl honestly hadnt even thought about having kids of his own, he thought he was too broken, a lost cause. Somehow, having you at his side made him feel like he could actually do this.

When the camp found out about Lori’s pregnancy, which came as a total shock to you since you’d been so focussed on your own, you and Daryl decided to tell them about your baby, too. It seemed only fair, and it shared the weight of the burden that you knew Lori was feeling at the same time as you.

“Wait, you too?” T-Dog had asked, with eyes so wide you couldnt help laughing.

“Yeah!”

And then his eyes got wider. “Who’s the daddy?!”

All you had to do was glance at Daryl, and T-Dog’s jaw hit the floor, until he composed himself back into a smirk and a calm nod of approval to Daryl. “Ma man.”

This eased the tension substantially, everyone laughing as Rick approached Daryl to congratulate him. The group had never seen Daryl smile with such pride before.

The farm falling was up there with the worst possible things that could have happened. Daryl stuck to you like glue when the group was on the road, sleeping outside unprotected for the first time in what felt like an eternity. You were exhausted from the stress of it all that first day, and you ending up passing out with your head on Daryl’s lap. That night, he didnt sleep a single second. He stayed on full alert, his eyes and ears hyper focussed on anything that could be a danger to you, while his fingertips absentmindedly combed through your hair as you slept. Despite being on full alert, Daryl couldnt help glancing down at you periodically, and even if those glances only lasted half a second before he returned back to his protective duties, every single time he looked at you he was reminded that he could never love anything more.

Finding the prison felt like a god send, and your hope was restored in the fact your baby’s fate was safe. Sitting in front of that campfire, your head rested on Daryl’s shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you, you smiled into the flames, a few tears slipping down your cheeks. Daryl nudged you gently, his other hand quick to brush your tears away.

“Hey, wha’s wrong? Ya in pain?” He panicked, and you shook your head, beaming up at him.

“Things are turning around.” You told him, your voice so quiet, almost afraid to vocalise such a thought in case it ruined everything.

The smile Daryl gave you put all your worries to rest, and he pulled you closer to place a kiss on your forehead.

No official relationship had been established between you and Daryl, but ever since you discovered that you were having his baby, things had obviously developed. The two of you were more affectionate with each other, a natural progression considering how often you’d be by each other’s sides. But Daryl had never asked you out, you’d never asked him out, there was just a love that was acknowledged and accepted, that was being allowed to finally flourish into something beautiful. The two of you were focussed on the baby, and that was a very welcome distraction, it meant that you didnt spend time worrying about your relationship with each other, you didnt have the space in your minds to overthink about that, so it just existed, and it existed wonderfully.

Settling into the prison was utter bliss, finally having an actual room, a real bed to call your own, it was absolutely needed in your case. Since you were getting so big, it was getting very difficult for you to help out with any laborious tasks, to the extent where you couldnt even lift a mattress onto your own bed. Daryl was more than happy to do that for you, of course, and before you could protest or thank him, he kissed you and sped off, leaving you giggling, bewildered and blushing as you fell back onto the mattress. You hadnt intended to fall asleep, but when Daryl gently shook you awake to eat some dinner, you couldnt have woken up faster. He watched in amusement as you all but swallowed your meal whole, your swollen stomach and glowing smile making his heart pound in his chest. In that moment, he knew that without a doubt, he would keep that prison standing if he had to hold the ceiling up himself, just to give you a safe place to stay.

Lori’s death turned your world upside down. The two of you werent particularly close, but you had grown so much closed given your shared state. Seeing Maggie walk out clutching a bloody baby, and Carl at her side in stone cold shock, it shook your hopeful illusion of your labour going without a hitch. You dont know how you’d convinced yourself of that, or whether you just hadnt let yourself think about giving birth, but every single day after that you grieved the loss of your friend, while your anxiety grew exponentially. Daryl could see it, the closer you got to your due date (which you were glad Hershel had calculated for you, but you partly wished you’d never found out) the more frantic you got. Daryl did his best to calm you down, to reassure you, and what happened to Lori combined with your own fears made him even more determined to stick by your side, so that you definitely werent without him when the time came.

You were sitting in the prison field with Carol picking flowers to lay on Lori’s grave, when you felt a gush between your legs. It was so intense that the fluid reached Carol’s shoe, and she gasped, her head slowly lifting from the flowers in her hands to look at you as all colour drained from your face.

“DARYL!” She yelled, and he was there in an instant, he’d only been a few feet away, but Carol couldnt believe how fast he’d run.

You, on the other hand, didnt see Daryl run. You couldnt move your eyes when his hands held your face, you couldnt speak, you couldnt breathe, you were frozen. And then everything was blurry, and it took you several seconds to register that you were crying. By the time you did realise, Daryl had already swung you up in his arms and was carrying you bridal style as he sprinted for the prison, everyone in the group running behind him.

Daryl laid you on your bed, the blurry silhouette of him disappearing briefly to be replaced by what you deciphered to be Hershel. He pinched your ear, hard, and you slapped his hand away.

“OW!” You cried, and Daryl growled, close to beating the old man if Rick hadnt held him back.

Hershel chuckled. “You werent showing symptoms of actual shock, you were just, well, shocked, and I needed to get you out of it. We need you responsive for this!”

You sighed and let your head fall back against the pillow, rubbing your earlobe. “Fuck.”

Hershel pointed a gloved finger at you. “Careful of that language now, there’s gonna be a little one here soon!”

With that, Hershel began examining you. Daryl was allowed back at your side, and when he reached for your hand, you gripped his. He kept his eyes fixed on your face, not paying attention to what Hershel was doing, only to the reactions of discomfort on your face.

“‘s alright, we gonna get you through this, promise.” Daryl whispered, voice already hoarse with emotion.

“Any guesses on what you might be having, (Y/N)?” Hershel asked you curiously as he examined you, somewhat easing your nerves with a distracting topic.

You smiled at Hershel before your eyes gravitated back to Daryl’s. “Well, we dont know, but since the start I’ve had a feeling that it’s a girl. I dont know, though.”

Hershel smiled at you. “A mother’s instinct is rarely wrong.”

He continued the examination before determining that you had only just started dilating, so it was not yet time to start pushing, despite your contractions having already begun. Since there was no telling how long the labour would take, Hershel told everyone to go back to work for the time being, but of course, Daryl was never going to leave you. For most of your dilation period, it was just you and Daryl in the cell you shared, him thinking up any random crap of a memory he could in order to distract you every time a contraction came, his hand never letting go of yours. Hershel came in to re-examine you and check on how you were doing in general every half an hour or so, and within around four hours, it was time to start pushing. Maggie and Beth were summoned back to the room then for medical assistance, and Daryl stayed at your side as the rest of the company stood essentially staring between your legs, but that was the least daunting aspect of what was going on. Tears filled your eyes as the next contraction rolled ploughed through you.

“PUSH (Y/N), PUSH!” Hershel called out, while Daryl leaned close to your ear.

“C’mon sweet girl, ya got this, yer gonna be jus’ fine. Push for me, push for her, go on, you can do it.” He whispered, but even his whisper was raw with emotion.

You nodded and squeezed your eyes shut, pressure and immense pain building at your hips as you pushed with all your might, your tears escaping and rolling down your face, into your hair that splayed across the pillow beneath your head. You cried out, clutching Daryl’s hand so hard you were worried you were going to break it, but he thought it was the least amount of pain he could deal with considering what you were going through.

And then, there was a cry. The cell plummeted into eerie silence, a ringing in your ears like a bullet had been fired right beside your head, as Hershel lifted a bloody bundle of limbs from between your legs. You felt winded, lost for words, lost for...everything. Maggie and Beth both wiped happy tears from their cheeks as Hershel passed the tiny human over to them, so they could quickly wash the blood away. Sound returned like a crashing wave, the ringing and the deafening silence replaced by heavy breathing and the cries of your baby. When you realised you were still clutching Daryl’s hand in a death grip, you slowly released it and turned to look at him, to see his tear stained face staring at the baby just as you had been.

“Your hunch was right, (Y/N), say hello to your baby girl.” Hershel spoke softly as he held the now bundled up baby out to you, and with shaking arms you reached for her.

She fell into them as though slotting into place, her face chubby and glowing in a way that was utterly ethereal. You shuffled over in bed to make room for Daryl, and he didnt need an invitation to move and sit properly beside you, to wrap an arm around you and the little baby nestled safely in a yellow blanket Daryl had found on his last run.

It wasnt until Maggie and Beth returned with a crowd that you even realised they’d left your cell. Your friends provided you and Daryl with plenty of space, only a few of them filing in at a time before letting others take a peak at the newborn angel. You looked up at Daryl, tearful, sweaty and feeling beyond exhausted, but Daryl had never seen anything so beautiful. You grinned up at him and nodded down at the baby, asking him a silent question, and he could only nod frantically in reply. He held his arms out and you carefully placed his little girl there, cuddled up against her father’s chest. Her face scrunched up briefly as she wriggled to get comfortable, making you and Daryl chuckle as more tears rolled down both of your faces.

“Have you thought of a name for her?” Carol asked, staring at the three of you with so much adoration, beyond overjoyed for her best friend having found the love and the family he deserved.

You smiled at her. “Well, ever since we first talked about her, she gave us something, so we figured...why not name her after what she gave us?” You looked between the people gathered in your cell, and the love of your life beside you.

Daryl sniffled, but nodded along with you and managed a wobbly smile to the audience.

“Her name is Hope, Hope Dixon.” You announced, and the room erupted in quiet and considerate ‘awwh’s as you rested your head on Daryl’s shoulder, eyelids feeling suddenly heavy.

“Alright, I think it’s time we give these three some privacy.” Hershel said, kindly ushering everyone out of the room as they all sent their best wishes and smiles your way.

Daryl sniffled. “Thank you.”

You frowned up at him, too tired to even lift your head from his shoulder. “For what?”

Daryl tore his gaze from the sleeping bundle of joy in his arms, to smile down at you with more confidence and love than you had ever seen on his face.

“Fer tryin’.”

[tripthelightfandomtastic]

omg so i had a janny moment the other day pls dont sue me

so like it crossed my mind that like. imagine danny and jake telling you how pretty you are when you're laid out all nice for them. they'll tell you all of the vulgar things they say when they talk about you when you aren't around. they tell you the nasty things they want to do to you and they don't let you touch yourself at the thought of them being so dirty with you.

idk just a thought 🙈

I-

Hang on tight.

Making you just writhe and clench your legs together as they speak, "I was just telling Jake the other day what a perfect body you have and just how badly I wanted to touch you." Danny smirks as he caresses your thigh, Jake on your other side nods, "And I told him just how good you would look with your lips wrapped around my cock." Jake rasps as his fingers ghost over your lips, you take his thumb in his mouth, hoping to confirm his fantasies in some way. "God I wanna watch you fuck her face." Danny sighs as he runs his hand through your hair. "Can I?" You ask, your voice whining gives your desperation away. "Fuck yes, baby." Jake says, his hands coming to his briefs, his hardened cock slapping against his stomach. You adjust to be on level with Jake's cock as he rests on his knees upon the bed, you take him in your hand as Danny pulls your hair aside, grasping it into a makeshift ponytail. "Go ahead, angel. Wanna watch you take him." Danny whispers against your ear, sending a heat through your body. Slowly you lean in and take Jake's length in your mouth, deeper and deeper, relishing in the way his cock feels against your tongue.

Danny's other hand ventures to your breasts, toying with your nipples as you suck off his best friend, growing harder as you moan against Jake's cock. Jake moans and throws his head back, his hips slowly thrusting into your mouth. "You were right, she looks fucking perfect like this." Danny smiles as he grasps your breast making your eyes flutter open and up at Jake. He looks in awe of you, "So fucking beautiful." He adds breathlessly. "I bet she'd look even prettier taking both of us at once. Don't you think, Jakey?" Danny's voice coos against your ear again, you whimper, the vibration against Jake makes him groan. "Would you like that, baby? You want Danny to fuck you while I cum down your throat?" Jake asks, you feel like you're in a dream. Jake pulls away from your mouth for you to answer, "Yes, fuck, yes please." You beg like a slut, getting on all fours just to prove you mean it.

Danny pulls his own boxers off, his cock is huge and so fucking pretty. His large, calloused hand softly runs over your ass. "Such a good girl for us. She really is such a dirty girl." Danny smirks as he grips at your ass, "Our dirty fuckin' girl."

Danny eases his way inside of your dripping wet pussy, both of you moaning messes as he fills you up. Jake slips his cock back inside of your mouth, letting Danny's movements do all of the work as you suck off Jake. This was pure pleasure. Hedonistic and pure ecstasy as you let these two gods fuck you in the most delicious way. Danny's grip on your hips and the way he ruts against your g-spot makes you a whimpering mess, only driving Jake more insane as the vibrations of your moans, as well as the vision of his best friend fucking his dream girl while she sucks his cock. It isn't long until you're gripping at the duvet beneath you, your pussy flutters around Danny and Jake's hands in your hair tighten as you feel just how close you are. Your imminent orgasm pulls the other boys towards their own climaxes.

Jake throws his head back, moaning your name, his hips stutter, his grip in your hair like a vice as he cums down your throat. You pull away, swallowing every drop. Finally you let out a sob as Danny plows into you, he pulls you to be up on your knees, you cry out his name at the change in position, only making you closer to the edge. Jake moves closer, his fingers rolling over your swollen clit as Danny fucks you from behind. You stare into those gorgeous, deep brown eyes, "Come on, Danny, I wanna watch her cum for us." Jake smiles, never taking his eyes off of you as his fingers quicken. Danny's grip tightens as his hips stutter, and your knees buckle, his arms holding you upright as you both cum. You never look away from Jake as you cry out in pure bliss, both of their names and cursing out as the feeling overtakes you.

Danny sits back on his knees as you both come down a bit, still inside of you and bring you gently to rest in his lap. Jake kisses you, his tongue exploring your mouth slowly and intimately, gently even. Danny kisses against your shoulder and up your neck.

"Our sweet girl."

"Did so good."

"Took us both so well, pretty girl."

"So beautiful."

They shower you in praise as they settle you back to the bed, Danny's cum running slowly down your leg. The two of them work to clean you up and get you comfortable, coming back to lay beside you. Holding you gently and kissing you all over, gently falling asleep in the arms of the most beautiful men you've ever known.

[hollandsmushroom]

could i request a boyfriend!peter fic where reader comes out to him as bi and genderfluid, but they're so nervous to do so cos they havent told anyone else and he is rlly supportive? and helps them get new clothes and cut their hair? and its fluffy and hugs and stuff?

if u dont feel comfy writing this, its ok i totally understand :) i just love ur writing so much <3

Be True To Yourself || P.P.

Peter Parker x afab(previously using she/her pronouns)Genderfluid!Reader

Word Count: 1375(I am pretty sure this is my fave thing I have every written)

Warnings: Fluff, the pain of coming out, fear, anxiety, brief mentions of break up(in passing not with intent) and I swear to fucking god, if anyone comes in my inbox angry that I didn’t trigger tag this for lgbtq content i will scream so loud your ear drums burst. 

A/N: So I don’t really talk about this much on here but I am a mostly gender nonconforming They/she, I come from a very very lgbtg family, I am a safe place, I promise!

♡✩♡✩♡✩♡✩♡

It was something about yourself that caused turmoil, it turned in your stomach as you tried to grapple with who and what you are, you knew that there was nothing wrong with your feelings, how certain forms of gender expression didn't feel right at certain times. Your mind floods with anxious thoughts as you sit on Peter’s bed, waiting for him to get back from patrol, to finally share your true self with the person that you love. Your hands twisting around each other, ringing out in a corporeal demonstration of your gut wrenching worry. 

“Y/n?” Peter’s voice breaking through the metaphysical walls of your disquietude. Your eyes drawing upwards, trailing up the black webs of his red spandex, reaching his face in time to catch as his gloved hand tug at his mask, the eye lens blinking as he pulls off his face covering. The moment seems to soften as you glance at his hair, soft locks expanding from the confines of his secret identity. “What are you doing here?” His speaking again brought you back the reveries of your hands in his hair as you laugh giddily, his body holding yours tight to his as you ignore a movie you were supposed to be watching together. 

“Hi Petey” you smile at him, tenderness in your gaze as you pat the bed next to you, signalling for him to take a seat next to you, a silent queue that he followed with much complacity. “Um, I need to talk to you about something” your eyes ducking down, an action that made Peter’s heart stop, a nervousness spreading through him rapidly as he began to feel much as you did, off kilter, as if his world was tilting beneath him. 

“Y/n, you’re kinda of scaring me” he utters, reaching out for your hand only to find it already entangled, fingers linking with fingers in a never ending exhibition of unease. 

“It’s nothing to be scared of, Petey, well I might need to be scared but it's something, well it’s something about me that I need to tell you and I haven’t told anyone and- well, Peter I am scared, I am really fucking scared” you let a tear you didn’t know you had spill, letting it fall down your cheek as you contemplate your words, silently reeling through every option you have on how to voice your being and identity to the person you love with the possibility that it could change how he loves you. 

“My sweet, you know you can tell me anything” he assures, desperately trying to get a grip on the conversation. 

“Peter, I...I can’t be your girlfriend” you murmur, quickly realizing you had chosen your words wrong as you see him freeze out of the corner of your eye, his body going rigid as the beautiful dusted rose drains from his cheeks. 

“Wha-” he starts but you cut him off immediately. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, I want to be with you, I want to be yours but I can’t be your girlfriend because I-I’m not a girl, well I am sometimes and I can be your girlfriend at those times but I’m not that all the time, honestly I am whatever I feel like whenever I feel like it and well, I don’t just like boys, I like girls too, but not just girls and boys, I like everyone but not now obviously because I am with you and I would never ever do anything unfaithful to you no matter how many genders or orientations I am attracted to. Peter I can’t keep pretending to be something that I am not and I don’t want that to change us but I understand if it do-” you start giving him the spiel about how it was okay if he didn’t know how to be with you now that you have become fully yourself but his lips didn’t give you the chance, cutting you off before you could manage to put into words how easy it would be for him to leave when that was the last thing that he wants, no matter what your pronouns or who you found attractive because that didn’t change who he fell in love with, he fell in love with you, not how you expressed yourself, you, his partner, his love. Pulling away your eyes remain closed, processing the amount of emotional knowledge had been lifted from your shoulder, your chest still tightened with the love at the amount of lack lecher passion Peter had let flow into your lips. 

“Nothing could change the way I feel about you, Y/n, nothing in this world” he assures, lips still ghosting over yours as you finally manage to pry your eyes open to meet his chocolate honeyed gaze. “Is there anything that I can do to help you feel more comfortable in your own skin?” He was soft, so gentle a presence that you felt like warm milk on a cold night, he was calming your soul of your innermost turmoil. 

“I was,” you drop your eyes, examining Peter's fluttering pulse that beats at the juncture of his collar bones. “Well I was hoping to go shopping and get a haircut cause how I currently have my hair and how I currently dress doesn’t always make me feel the best” he watches you with an attentive adoration, wanting to learn how to best be your partner and ally while you learn and grow into being fully and comfortably you. “Sometimes I don’t mind it but sometimes isn’t always and in the times its not I feel like my own existence makes me itch” 

“Well we can’t have you being itchy” Peter squeezes your hips softly, tugging you closer to him as you fall back on the bed. “So I guess we shall have to go to the mall this weekend, get you a haircut, some new clothes, sound like a plan?” Peter offers and you smile unabashedly.

“The best plan” you nod sleepily into his chest, forehead grazing the emblem on his suit as you let your eyes fall shut, absolutely exhausted from the emotional strain of baring your soul to the person you love most with a possibility of getting it spat back at you, but Peter would never, he loved you more than he could understand, more than he cared to, not wanting to taint the complexities of his adoration for you with the binary idea that he could ever understand something so powerful and all encompassing. 

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

You stood in front of a rack of t-shirts, hangers dawned with fun patterned graphic tees as you, searching for something new to complete your style, something that felt more true to you when you didn’t feel like wearing any of the clothes that you already owned, something that would go along well with the way your hair was now styled. Peter was not standing with you, having wandered off minutes before to go find something that he thought you would enjoy. The feeling of someone near you making you turn to face where the sensation was coming from, your eyes finding your grinning boyfriend. I

"I have an idea!" Peter smiles excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he fiddles with a pack of bracelets in his hand. "So um, I was thinking we could assign each bracelet pronouns so I know which ones to use when to use which pronoun" you felt like you were glowing, fully understood for the first time in your life and there is nothing more valuable than that, than feeling totally and completely seen and accepted for who and what you were. Tears flood your eyes without your consent as you smile stupidly back at Peter whose face was falling, hand reaching out to cup your cheek. "Baby, did I say something wrong?" you shook your head, nuzzling deeper into his palm.

"No, no Petey, I just feel good in my own skin for once in my life" you blubber.

"I just want my partner to be happy" his thumb brushes over your orbital bone, wiping away a fallen tear. "Because I love them with everything I have”

“I love you too Petey, so much”

let me know what you thought

♡Taglist♡

@iluvdeja @quaksonhehe @lovehollandy12 @thollandneedy @prancerrparkerr @parkerpeter24 @hollandsour @evermoreholland @harmqnia @thehumanistsdiary @samaraaaaa @itscaminow @alinastarkrovs @marvelsbitch8 @celestialholland @kasidy409 @parkerdarling @scarletspideyy @capital-koreasofia @marvelhasmyheart235 @hackerholland @tom-softie @hollandsjen @tomhollandsbitch8 @bi-lmg07 @reawritesthings @tomsholland2412 @lowkey-holland @cocoamoonmalfoy

[jangofctts]

Anything at All (boba fett x fem!reader) (part one) (part two) 

Rated: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: smut, even mORE thrONE fucking, oral sex (f receiving), boba’s a biter, unprotected sex (dont be silly, wrap thAT wiLLY), vaginal fingering, explicit language, boba is a grouchy dom kwjhgjh       

a/n: anyway I think yall forget im a writer and not just a Certified Clown, but anywAy here we be. HAPPY NEW YEARS ya FILTHY anIMALS im so thankful for all yall and im glad I can provide you with some entertainment kaejhejhr

  You haven’t seen Boba Fett in days. 

Called away on business you’ll never be included in or know the fine details about. It’s not kept away from you because he doesn’t trust you, or thinks you’re a mindless idiot—no—he’d rather keep his princess occupied with prettier things. No need to concern yourself with the the underbelly of what he now rules. 

You’re not upset about it—you’re not really a fan of watching petty squabbles that’ll result in someone’s chest being imploded by a blaster. You’ve seen enough of it in the cantina, and while you were never the one tasked with clearing the bodies out—it was still mildly traumatizing. Eh—no need to dwell. 

You’ve got other shit to do anyway. 

There’s a seemingly endless zigzag of secret hallways and dusty rooms within the palace, teeming with strange knickknacks and ancient artifacts that are more than likely cursed. Definitely haunted—but it doesn’t stop you from exploring or sorting through the useless junk. Besides—Fennec stayed behind, acting as your glorified babysitter for the past few cycles—ensuring your safety from both whoever dared step foot into the palace and the ghosts. What a lovely woman. 

Speaking of which—you hear her sigh and shuffle, shifting her weight onto her other foot as she leans back against a dusty crate. She picks at the dirt beneath her fingernails, lazily glancing up every now and then to check that you haven’t eviscerated yourself on a piece of scrap metal or something. Lucky for her, all you found today was an abandoned crate of old datapacs shoved in the back corner from what you assumed to be some sort of office. Yesterday you found a sword that was promptly confiscated.  

“I’d be careful snooping around in those,” Fennec warns as your fingers find the on switch. “You never know what sorta data the Hutts were keeping here.”

You shrug and wave away her concern, reading over the information that flickers across the screen. “I think I’ll be ok…See?” You pointedly wave the datapac in her direction. “This one is about the finances. Spooky.”    

Fennec rolls her eyes followed by an amused smirk that ghosts over her lips. You toss it aside and root around some more, pulling out another datapac. The blue hologram flickers to life and as you decipher the little lines of text your face falls. Each line is a name, previous and recently bought or traded people that crossed the threshold of the palace. Fennec was right. This isn’t fun anymore.    

“These are…slaves.” Your lips curls in disgust. “How is this still not outlawed? It’s barbaric.”      

“You’re not from Tatooine, are you?” Fennec asks as she meanders over and wrestles the datapac out of your hands. She switches it off and tosses it back into the dusty crate. You huff and cross your arms over your chest.  

“No,” you agree. “Im from Arkanis. But even there we don’t have slaves.” 

Fennec squats beside you, her elbows resting over her bent knees. She playfully taps your shoulder with the back of her hand and quirks a brow. “What’d I tell you—snooping doesn’t do anyone any good.”

You roll your eyes and shrug, a frown still etched on your lips. Fennec sighs, rubs her chin and then reaches out to push a stray hair behind your ear. A flush blooms up your cheeks at the gentle touch. 

“You have a sensitive soul, Kitten,” she chuckles, poking at your cheek that you’re certain she can feel the heat emirate from. “You said you were from Arkanis—tell me about it. Why come to Tatooine?”

Your lips quirk in a tiny smile as you bat away her pointer finger, saving your cheek from another poke. “Hey—not everyone likes rain ok?” You huff. “Besides, Tatooine wasn’t supposed to be permanent.”

She nods. Unsure what exactly to tell her--a silence ensues. It’s not terribly awkward but it’s enough that makes you jumpy and itching to move on from this room now stained with information you weren’t prepared on finding. You stand suddenly, brush yourself off and mutter under your breath about finding something less…heartbreaking. 

Fennec jumps up as well and when you leave the room her hand clamps over your shoulder. She spins you around and levels her gaze onto you. “You’re free to leave whenever you like. You know that right?”

Your brows furrow. “I know—don’t worry, I want to stay.”

Her head bobs with a satisfied nod. “We’d miss you if you left. You’re nice to have around.”

You blush again and mumble out a thank you, shooting off into another unexplored location to escape Fennec’s knowing smirk. Maker—you’re embarrassing.  

                               -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Boba returns later that afternoon—the shadow of his familiar figure stretches around the curved stairway, the purposeful stomps of his boots against the carved steps following with it. Your heart flutters within your chest, like a distressed creature with wings as you jump from your makeshift seat.

You come face to face with Boba. Or, helmet rather—whatever. 

The smell of hot metal and dry air sticks to him as he paces closer, closing the small gap that separates him from you. You’re frozen beneath the heavy weight of his stare behind the void like black of his visor as he plants himself firmly before you, close enough that his cuirass could brush your chest if he puffed out his own chest.   

“Hi…” You smile, a fragile vale of uncertainty blanketing the pair of you—still attempting to feel out his mood, sort through the general gruffness of his personality and gage wether or not you could reach out and touch him. The helmet is a tricky thing to read and his body language gives nothing away. You swallow your nerves take a leaping risk.   

“Let me see your face.” You murmur. You move your hands up to the edges of his helmet at a snail’s pace, giving him ample time to slip through your fingers—wedge a sharp thorn between whatever it is that you’ve built and name it for what it is.

He doesn’t choose that option. 

With a low hum, Boba dips his helmet closer to your outstretched fingertips instead. The metal is cool under your palms as they fold over the sides of the helmet and pull up. The metal whispers against his skin like wind through tall grass as the point of his chin peeks out, followed by his lips, his nose, and finally those golden brown eyes. They glitter with amusement as you release a shaky breath, the helmet the only thing acting as a barrier as you clutch it near your sternum. His mouth quirks when you blush and glance away—focusing on the little silvery nicks the green paint refused to cover. You rub your thumb over the blaster pockmark that dents the metal—you frown. You hope that wasn’t recent. 

Boba gently pries the helmet out of your hands and sets it onto the armrest of his throne. He purrs your name and pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb, leading your attention back to him. Your eyes flit up his scars—your breath catching in your throat as he smiles.

“Hello, princess,” he says—the grit and timbre of this new nickname jumpstarting your heart to skip and choke on its own tireless beat.

You roll your bottom lip between your teeth and shake your head. “Boba, I’m not—“

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence—

Boba spreads his fingers over your jaw, tilts your head and swoops down to meet your lips in a dizzying kiss. Hard, hungry, victorious, breathless—like he’s spent years fighting and only now takes a moment to slow down—drown in the softness of your lips and skin. His hands claw at your arms, your clothes, your hair—like you’re the spoils of battle and he fears losing you to the shadows of his past and some hidden horror that nips at his heels. He kisses like a man terrified that this will be brief, intangible and something that’ll abandon him.

He trails after your lips when you break away—your lungs heaving for precious air. He doesn’t let you go far, ensuring your positioning by tangling his fist into your hair at the nape of your neck and scraping his lips up your cheek, enticing you into another kiss. You tilt you chin to meet him with equal fervor, whining as his warm tongue curls sweetly into your mouth. His existence fills your veins with liquid silver—evokes the bloom of crackling star fire beneath the cavity of your ribcage. Every thought starts with him and ends with your heart aching to burst into a million tiny shards.   

The next time you part,  Boba is the first one to pull away. He cups your cheeks between his weathered hands and plants a tender kiss just below your hairline. You swear you can feel the skin buzz from the touch—like every atom in your being was solely created for him to command and conquer. You sigh and lean into his palm. 

“I missed you.” You admit with a small smile. 

Boba leans closer and presses another kiss to your forehead. “And I you, little one.”

“I got worried, y’know,” you continue, your fingers tapping a trail up the front of his chest plate. You trace the repainted insignia with your fingernail and flash him a coy smirk. “You never called—thought maybe you found a new pretty thing.”

He grunts, shakes his head and sweeps a rogue strand of hair behind your ear. “Hilarious—my hands are full enough with you hounding me every five minutes.”

You puff out your bottom lip and feign offense, mumbling some lame whine like a petulant brat. Boba snorts and crowds closer. He presses his gloved thumb between your furrowed brows, smoothing out the wrinkles and then cups your cheeks between both palms. You freeze as he carefully knocks the crown of his forehead onto yours—it’s sweet.

An excited smile splits when he moves his head to your right, the syllables of each word rolling off his tongue sweeter than spiced honey. “I’ll make it up to you, pretty thing,” he whispers by your ear, his warm breath disturbing the fine hairs there. “How does that sound, hm?”

That’s not even a question you would ever dream of denying—you quickly nod. “I’d like that.” 

Boba drops his hands from your face and peels himself away. His eyes trickle down your figure—calculative and analytic—planning out each move to pick apart the entirety of your being. “Take everything off.”

You comply without a second thought—slipping free from the breezy cotton and scratchy poncho you stole from a storage room. The fabric pools at your feet in an unceremonious pile—leaving you bare for him. Despite the sickening dry heat that pollutes the air and causes beads of sweat to gather at your hairline—goosebumps rush up your arms under Boba’s piercing stare. 

Boba’s eyes flicker to the throne. A feral grin tugs at his lips. “Sit.”

This time you hesitate. Did he…? No—you must’ve heard wrong— 

He quirks a brow and gestures to the throne. “Well? Are you going to listen?”

Your tongue slides over your chapped lips. “O-ok..I just—never mind…”

Scrounging up some courage, you gingerly seat yourself onto Boba Fett’s throne. Chills race along the entirety of your body as the freezing metal seeps into your warm flesh. You squirm and beat away the urge to wrap your arms around yourself—he wouldn’t like that—probably would take it as some sort of insult anyway—

All your current discomforts melt away in a fraction of a breath as Boba Fett lowers himself to one knee, and then the other. A king kneeling before his very own throne for someone like you. Someone who’ll be lost to the pages of history and the endless swirl of galaxies and supernovas—you’re nobody to the world, but to him you’re everything. You inhale a shaky breath as a strange stroke of pride alights through your body as he peels off his gloves and maneuvers himself flush against the edge of the throne and between your thighs.    

Boba bows forward and slips his calloused hands around your ribcage to tug you closer. His lips land over your collar bone, slides his tongue over the protrusion then sinks his teeth into you there. You gasp as he slides lower, leading a trail of bruises and teeth marks in his wake. Boba moves his palms, up and in to grab at your breasts, the flats of his fingertips rolling over your nipples. A whimper escapes past your lips as he catches the pebbled bud between his lips, the hard enamel of his teeth scraping over it—meant to tease. Your nails dig into the fabric bunched around his neck as he moves on to suck your other nipple, the cooling saliva sending a chill down your spine as it dries.

You squirm, unable close your legs or to relieve some of that burning tension collecting in your core. You’re already wet—worked up and impatient. You roll your head back onto your shoulders and bite your lip. If you complain and tell him to hurry up you’re scared he’ll leave you like this—deny you that pleasure you’ve been craving for days.  

It feels like ages before he moves on from your breasts, now smattered with bruises and his saliva, and carves out a blinding path down your sternum, your belly, then your navel with his tongue. Boba circles your bellybutton—you force down the ticklish nerves and stay still for him. 

You don't mean to jump as his rough hands drop over your knees. You barely get out the first syllable of an apology when his hands slip up your bare thighs, curl around the swell of your ass and yank. You squeak as the edge of the throne bites into your tailbone, the majority of your lower half forced to lean on Boba’s shoulders and his greedy hands. He kisses the inside of your knee—you jolt with an airy gasp. 

Boba picks up his head and smirks. “Look at me when I taste you, little one.”

Mouth suddenly drier than dust, you nod dumbly. 

He hums, satisfied with your weak response and continues on.  

Boba’s bare fingers trace minuscule patterns into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, coaxing out a shiver. They sweep up towards the apex of your thighs, settling close enough to reach your aching center. You know he’s there—it’s impossible to ignore him—but you curse anyway when you feel his thumbs softly part the lips of your soaking cunt. They steadily work up and down, smearing your wetness around but never enough to give you any friction. You bite back a groan as your hips unconsciously twitch. 

“Patience, princess,” he rumbles, shifting his weight to better reach your cunt. “Maker—you’re dripping already.”   

There's a moment just before Boba commits, his face hovering close enough that you can feel his sticky, hot breath, anticipation gripping your chest. And then he licks a broad stripe from the base of your pussy all the way up to your swollen clit. 

His mouth Is searing, his tongue like liquid velvet as you shudder and grab at his head. He grunts against you as you drag him closer—greedy for everything he deems you worthy of. Boba’s mouth pinpoints around your clit, sucking and tracing circles over the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue. Your eyes flutter—it’s a struggle not to shut them completely. He asked you to watch after all… 

He then trails lower, sucks on your labia, and makes his way down to your entrance. The wet heat of his tongue circles your entrance, skips over it completely to lick at the wetness dripping lower that threatens to pool onto the throne or the floor. He opens his mouth wide and hums in appreciation, devouring your pussy like he’s been denied this his entire life. 

“Fuck—Boba,” you cry, canting your hips into his mouth. 

It's perfect. So fucking good. 

The tips of his thick fingers, two of them, press at your entrance, teasing the fluttering ring of soft muscle before sinking in. The two digits slip in with ease—all the way up to the second knuckle and when he draws them back, they're slick with your wetness, glinting in the low light. With a smirk, Boba thrusts them back in, then out—setting a steady pace that he refuses to stray from. It leaves you just hovering along the sharp edge of oblivion, the catch of his knuckles and calloused skin along your walls pure torture. Stars—he’s going to be the death of you—

Your hips arch into him, trying to urge him to go faster. Instead, he slowly retracts his fingers and removes his mouth. You gasp in frustration as your cunt clenches around thin air. It almost hurts. 

“I told you to be patient,” Boba chuckles, massaging a warm palm along the outside of your thigh. “You’re behaving like a brat.” 

“I’m—I—I’m sorry—“ You wheeze, trying to rope in some self control that fled a long time ago. Your wits are scrapped thin as you throw your hand against the back of the throne. You don’t care that he’s rendered you to a begging mess, your words slurred and hardly understandable. You're so close to diving off the edge—so near to those plush lips and weathered hands that’ll surely become your salvation. "Please! P-please—I need..." 

You're babbling as he drags his fingertips over your thigh, skims over your cunt, and traces a pattern into your opposite thigh. "Boba. Fuck. I pro-promise to be better—I can do it. Please—“

He complies.

Two fingers are thrust up into your dripping cunt, curving so deliciously into something that feels like unrefined plasma bolts. His mouth dips down and sucks on your clit and with a few more curls and thrusts of his fingers inside of your clenching walls, your body seizes up tight. 

You're flying off you’re high, faster than a fucking speeder with tampered gears. You cum onto his tongue with a strangled cry of his name, sparks of blurry white lining the edges of your vision as your back arches. Boba keeps licking you through your orgasm, even as you buck and squirm in his iron hold. Stars implode behind your eyelids as heat, hotter than wildfire and jetfuel spreads from your center all the way up your stomach and down to your toes. You're shaking, lucid enough to hear Boba, and feel the vibration of his groan, as he licks up the flood of your wetness over his tongue. 

Your brain swims in hazy bliss and fuzzy pleasure as you float back to reality. He's still curling his fingers into your pussy and it hurts. You're too sensitive. Your nerves are rubbed raw and you're still throbbing—but you're too fucked out and still riding the waves of your orgasm to push him away. He takes this opportunity to tilt his fingers into your cunt faster, suckle and lave his tongue over your clit that burns from overstimulation—somehow you're back at the very edge again.

It's sharper than a blade against flesh. Your thighs quiver around him as he twists his fingers inside you and bumps agains that tiny, little patch of nerves that wrenches a cry from you. Your orgasm floods through you veins, bursting and rupturing every cell in your being. This one is blistering—charrs all the way to the fucking bone. Your core pulses around Boba’s fingers, fucking you through it until those burning waves of release eventually cease into a dull throb. You whimper and push at his forehead because he's still licking at your cunt. You panic a bit—fucking hell, he’s gonna make you cry—but he pulls away, his mouth and chin wet with your slick. 

Boba leaves absolutely no time to completely float down from your high—you squeak as his hands shoot up to grab at your hips, wrenching you off the throne and all but throwing you onto the same floor he kneels on. You flash him a dopey grin, letting your legs fall open for his enjoyment—

“Such a filthy princess,” he chuckles, extending a hand to cover your knee, bending it further out to expose more of your flushed cunt. “You taste sweeter than star cherries.”

You preen at his compliment. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

It earns you an amused huff. Boba scrapes the hand resting on your knee to the apex of your legs, thumb and forefinger gently parting your delicate, slick folds. You bite back a keening whine, utterly exposed to him as he slips the hood back from the throbbing knot of nerves at the top of your slit. Too raw. Your pussy clenches involuntarily, causing everything from your toes to your hips stiffen. Boba hums in delight at his handiwork. 

“Stars, Boba—please…” You beg, voice breathy and soft like whips of spider silk. Boba makes a sound that oozes with smug pleasure, teasing your sore clit with unadulterated glee. “Please,” you hear yourself whimper over your pounding pulse, shifting in his grasp and praying he’ll put an end to this sickly sweet torture.

“Pretty little thing, begging for my cock…” He rasps, darkly threaded sin and the husky scrape of the gray sea licking up jagged, black rock. You’re certain he could talk you into unraveling at the seams, untouched and putty in his hands for him to mold and shape. Boba’s other hand sweeps up your sternum, his fingertips dancing along the mythosaur pendant coiled around your neck. He then curls his thick fingers around the base of your throat and ever so lightly squeezes. “Poor baby—all worked up after a few days…I’ll fix that for you.” 

Before you can fully process, he grabs the swell of your hip and flips you onto your belly. The air from your lungs is knocked out of your chest, the abrasive sandstone bitting into the points of your elbows and patches of your skin and no doubt leaving behind irritated scrapes. You hear the shuffle of fabric and then Boba suddenly seizes your hips and arches them into his crotch, grinding the deliciously hard length of his cock through your wet folds. Throbbing and just as desperate as you are, Boba refrains from flinging you into another bout of teasing. He slicks himself up with your arousal and drags the tip of himself to your clenching center and sinks that first, glorious inch inside of you. 

With a low groan, Boba pushes in deeper, watching your tight hold flutter and accommodate his thick length. It’s the same as before during that night in the cantina—dreadfully full and all but bursting at the seems. The gentle rocks of his hips and gravelly praise eventually allow him to finally bottom out, his sharp hipbones resting against the swell of your ass as you shudder and groan. Fuck—

You can feel him in your fucking guts. 

Boba grants you a brief moment to settle and then—it’s catastrophic. 

Your jaw drops in a silent scream when he pulls back, all the way to the tip and slams back into your tight heat. Boba’s hand tangles into your hair at the nape of your neck and and pulls, forcing your back into a sharp arch. The action leaves more of you open, somehow pressing in even further. He hits so deeply within you—stars it feels like he’s splitting you open and laying you bare. 

His dark chuckle resonates above you—a bit breathy as he tames his own frazzled nerves. “Shit—that feels good. Doesn’t it, princess?”

Your incoherent babble makes him laugh as he gives your hair a playful tug, all the while he never stops thrusting in and out of you. You wiggle your hips, the slight shift makes it ache, and the sharp downward thrusts put delirious pressure on that patch of nerves that renders you dizzy. Every muscle in your body feels like it’s a tightly spooled cable, fraying and an inch away from snapping. Your gasping breaths pitch into airy squeaks as the fist twisted in your hair tightens, tugging your head back just a bit more.

Boba lurches foreword, the nip of beskar a frigid shock to the bare skin of your back when he lays over you, his elbows caging you in close. His head drops onto your shoulder blade, pressing sloppy kisses over the arch of your throat and slope of your shoulder—without warning he sinks his teeth into the juncture of your neck. Maker save you—

The feral drag of Boba’s teeth digging into your sensitive flesh skin makes you squeeze around his cock—Boba answers with a soft growl that vibrates against the skin of your shoulder. Somehow he fucks into you harder, his pace becoming brutal. Your nails scrabble against the floor, searching for some sort of anchor as you wail under him.

It’s too much—fuck, you’re gonna implode. Pinned between the rough sandstone and the hand in in your hair, mixed with the sharp pain of his teeth marring your skin—you loose it. Sensing your peaking orgasm, Boba’s fingers wedge between your legs to toy with your clit. He rubs quick circles with two fingers as he purrs words of filth into your ear—how good his pretty thing is for him, how well you came for him, how tight you are. 

“There you go, little one,” Boba says, his words like a tendril of dark smoke. “Cum for your king.”   

His efforts are quickly rewarded as you shudder and lock up harder than durasteel beneath him. A blinding surge of vicious heat, knocks you clean off your feet and steals away all the air left in your lungs as your nails dig into the sandstone—trembling and grappling blindly for a foothold in your own head. The cold chest plate is a much needed anchor for the overwhelming intensity that threatens to drown you and bury you six fix under.   

He bites down again when he cums, his hips digging into you with short, rough jabs. “Fuck—you take me so well.” You squirm, feeling his cock throb and spill into you, making the mess between your legs smear over your thighs. His thrusts stutter to a stop as he sighs deeply and pulls out, a mixture of his cum and your arousal spilling onto the floor. Boba huffs above you, drags a finger through your swollen folds and pushes it back inside of you. “Good girl.”

You shiver—reduced to a useless puddle with no intent from moving off the floor as Boba’s weight moves away. You could sleep here—that’s something completely plausible you think. Nice, warm dirt—

Boba purrs your name—the sound piquing your interest enough that you overcome the heaviness that’s settled in your body and move your head. He’s returned to his throne, cheeks a bit flushed and his chest rising and falling to recover precious air. You watch as Boba peels off his cuirass with practiced ease, and lays it with care onto the floor. He murmurs your name a second time and pats his lap, coaxing you off the floor. 

You happily slither onto his thighs, exhausted and all too eager to be swept up into the warmth of his arms. He grunts as you tuck your head under his chin and cuddle into his chest, relishing the rough scrape of his palms folding over your shoulder and the outside of your thigh. His soft breaths tickle the top of your head paired with the quiet, but steady rhythm of his heart beating beneath your fingertips and ear pressed onto his sternum. Your eyes flutter shut and though a hushed silence falls over the room, there’s nothing to be said. 

Boba tucks his nose into your hair and you smile, the slow speak of your heart unraveling into a lush garden of something new and brittle—like flakes of frost in the early morning sun. He’s more bruise than bleed nowadays—a wound closed then reopened and he promises nothing of a future beyond what you have in these moments. And yet—

You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. 

taglist: @goldafterglow @djxrxn @velvetmel0n @steeeeeeeviebb      @stargazingcarol @ohiobluetip @anxiety-riddled-mando @absurdthirst @thesoftdumbass @huliabitch @max--phillips @silverfish-kingdom @krissology @teaofpeach @pettyprocrastination @nelba​ @beskars​ @jango-fettish​ @corrupt-fvcker​ @cobbvader​ @maybege​ @clonewarslover55​ @auty-ren​ @legally-a-bastard​ @bigdickdindjarin​ @thesparkleslugs​ @cryptid-candy​ @mandowhorian​ @pascaliprincess​ @mitchi-c​

[miraeluc]

you have an anxiety attack

prompt: “after a long day you’re just trying to cook for you and your roommate, but when you accidentally switch salt and sugar the stress dawns upon you and you lose it.”

pairing: kaeya x gender-neutral reader

warnings: description of an anxiety attack, explicit language

word count: 1.6k

genre: fluff, angst

rough day? 

no

roughest of the rough 

it started in the morning - all was good until you were all dressed and ready to go

all you needed to do was brush your teeth

of course you dropped toothpaste on your new blouse and had to change because your boss would literally kill you if you strutted in there with toothpaste stains on your clothing 

that didn’t upset you too much anyway,, yep, it kinda sucks but it is what it is

you went to work

that’s when it started to REALLY go downhill

first, you had to sit your ass in this tiny cubicle all day and it remained right on that chair every time you stood up

that’s what it felt like at least

then, you lost data that you’ve been working on for a MONTH

an entire month’s worth data!!!! LOST!!!!

curse you and your issue with forgetting where you put your folders

so you started over

was it worth it? 

no

your boss hated it

you ended up dropping the project overall,, handed it over to a co-worker

your excuse was that you felt too ‘unfit’ for the whole project and he would totally be a better fit!

poor bennett 

bennett is a nice guy, you always hang out with him during break

you usually talk shit about the other co-workers and he just listens and sits there like ◕ ◡ ◕

he’s just there for the food you bring him, really 

he’s a little dumb so he took the project from you with no hesitation

“i’ll do it for you, dont even worry about it, y/n!”

you ended up working overtime 

you had about 7 projects to finish until tomorrow morning and they were all only half-done 

so you got your coffee, turned off your phone and got to work

you finished at 9pm

your work hours are 8am-5:30pm

nope, not having a great time 

well, at least you can go home now!

you pack up your stuff and get up, leaving this hellhole of an office, stretching as you wait for the elevator before checking your phone to see 7 missed calls from your roommate

aka kaeya

aka boy that is most likely emotionally unavailable

aka boy that KEEPS TURNING OFF THE HEATERS TO LEAVE YOU TO FREEZE

his excuse is always that he can’t handle the warmth but you’re sure its so you whine about the cold so he can hug you to warm you up

maybe you have a teeny tiny crush on him???? BUT WHO CAN BLAME YOU 

he’s a whole package - the only thing he’s lacking is emotional availability lmao

which is why you never mentioned the day by day blooming feelings you’ve been developing for him

there would be no positive outcome from you telling him. he would politely turn you down, having to explain yet again that he doesn’t see himself having actual romantic feelings to someone 

you’re content with your current relationship with him

right?

kaeya is known as the fuckboy! of the city

neither of you mind, he’s having his fun

and you know that there’s much more to it 

you’re very happy to have gained his trust enough for him to let his flirty side down when with you, at least

well, there’s no time to ponder over your relationship with him because you’re already sprinting to catch the last bus of the day

right as you got to the station it drove away

fuck

what now?

you have to walk home. alone. in the dark.

oh well. 

usually bennett drives you home but obviously he left earlier

its only a 15 minute walk you can do it

it’s not that bad there’s street lamps hey!

not that bad until it starts to rain, apparently

by the time you get home there’s water in places rainwater shouldn’t be

kaeya is running by the time he hears the front door

“where were you??”

“why didn’t you reply to my calls??”

“do you have a slight idea about how worried i w-”

he stops when he sees your soaked figure and tired expression

“oh, y/n, what happened?” 

he immediately helped you chuck off your wet coat and shoes 

“i worked overtime and missed the last bus so i had to walk home”, you sighed

he nodded and hummed “Go ahead and take a shower then, wouldn’t want you to get sick now, would we?” he winked

you scoffed but nodded anyway

 “yeah, especially in this coLD FUCKING APARTMENT BECAUSE YOU REFUSE TO LET THE HEATERS TURNED ON-”

you only heard him laugh before shutting the door in the bathroom and jumping into the shower, needing to warm up because you were sure your toes were about to fall off from the cold

at least the shower went well

:///

you got dressed in lounge attire when you got out of the shower, walking to the kitchen because you were very hungry

you gave bennett all your food today so you didnt have any left

he just looked so hungry

ANYWAYS

you’re in the kitchen, deciding on what to cook

if you ask kaeya he will tell you to just drink wine instead so, no

you kind of want something sweet so you decide to bake cupcakes

kaeya shows up too

“what’re you baking?”

he sat and watched as you gathered all the ingredients you need

“cupcakes. how was your day?”

you strike up a conversation - all you talked about today was work and you need some decent interaction, plus kaeya is a super nice talk partner

“good. i had a day-off today so i layed in bed all day”

you hummed, stirring the eggs and flour 

“how come? you never get off”

“no reason, i was forcibly given a day off- well anyways, what i wanted to tell you about before you worried me because i thoght you were deAD when you didn’t respond, is that i need your help setting up a date for diluc-”

you stopped listening halfway

you were looking at the unopened sugar bag on the counter

you just stirred the sugar in, why is it unopened????

you look over at the open bag of salt

wait a second 

you take out a little dough and taste it

FUCK

“hello??? earth to y/n?? are you even liste-”

he stops himself as soon as you look at him with your lower lip trembling 

uhhhhh

he’s never been in this situation

“y/n?? why are you crying-”

he looks at the counter and the dough, then he sees the salt beside the bowl you were stirring in and leans over to try some

oh, that’s why

“oh come on, is that what you’re crying over?” he snorted

he could barely catch you when you collapsed and started sobbing 

he immediately regreted what he said

“hey, y/n, it’s just a little dough! its okay-” 

you just sobbed and he sat down with you, sighing and pulling you into a tight hug

you felt your lungs constricting and your hands started shaking 

you didn’t even notice how antsy you felt all day until now

you gasped for air and he tightened his grip on you

“w-why am i so worthless?!”

you punched his chest

“i can’t do a single thi-ng with-out messing it up!”

punch

“i’m so us-useless”

punch

“i should just kill m-”

he immediately pulled away and cupped your face before you could finish what you were about to say

“y/n, look at me. you had a bad day - you’re not useless! you’re stressed out! you’re one of the most hardworking people that i know- and, and don’t you ever mention anything about killing yourself! i won’t let you go, not as long as im here”

you were too busy fighting against the constricting feeling in your lungs to notice the tear slipping down his cheek before he hugged you tightly again

your hands gripped at his tshirt

his hand rested over your shaky ones

it broke him

seeing you in such state hurt him so much, he felt his own heart breaking a little with every gasp you took 

“come on, let’s breathe together”

his voice was soft when he spoke to you

he took a deep breath in, you following

you wrapped your arms around him and leaned your head against his chest when breathing out 

hearing his heartbeat made you feel safe

he kept breathing with you until he was more than sure you could breathe comfortably again 

why did he feel like this?

sure, flirting with girls is fun 

and ghosting them is also fun

he usually doesn’t care about hurting them

but why does he feel the need to protect you from all bad things?

and why does your pain hurt him too?

he sighs and shakes his head as if that would clear his mind 

(it doesn’t)

oh well. 

taking care of your needs is more important right now

he picks you up and walks over to the couch, sitting down, placing you on his lap and hugging you 

“you’re not cooking anything, we’ll order takeout.”

you sniffled and nodded 

you did feel your heart flutter a little when he sat you down on him

he’s never done that 

you ignore it and reside into the warmth he gives instead, nuzzling your face into his chest 

he smiles softly and strokes your hair, using his free hand to type in what you were ordering

you both fell into a comfortable silence

at some point he thought you fell asleep lol

“kaeya?”

he rose his brows a little and looked down, humming

“thank you.”

additional notes: welp. this was my first drabble! it was very fun to write and i genuinely look forward to writing more! i’d appreciate it alot if you leave any feedback or even requests for drabbles :-)

[daddy-chiluc]

Inextinguishable Fire | Chiluc Week Day 1

Fake Dating/Accidental Confession/Roommates AU

Chiluc Fluff

Tw: Mentions of a Stalker

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

“Ajax! I need your help!” He chimed, his pale knuckles knocking lightly on the door. The sound of creaking soaked through the door, floorboards cried under his weight as his shadow shifted beneath the door. The faintest sound of a groan resonated through the door as it was slowly opened.

The sunlight from the apartment began to creep into his dark room, it’s darkness swallowed around the tall, pale figure before him. The veins in his hands moved as he gripped at the door and it’s frame, his muscles stretching as he curved his back in a weak attempt to pop it. Whatever he had done last night must’ve been eventful, bruises littered his knuckles as cuts and scratches tore at his skin with every breath.

“What’s up Sparky?” He groaned, the sound reverberating through the quiet hallway as he yawned, his bed head unruly as it curled and stuck out in different directions, his sleepy tears rolling down his freckled cheeks.

“I have a problem and I need your help.” Diluc had muttered, determined to fix his gaze upon those ocean blues that drowned him shamelessly with every look. They’d look down at him, up at him, study him and care for him. An overwhelming tsunami sure to swallow him whole and send his head underwater, taking away every breath he took.

“What kinda problem?” Ajax was intrigued. A problem? Whatever this problem was it obviously stressed him out a great deal — his hair was a frenzied mess, curls displaced down his back and along his shoulders from where they had been agitated; probably from where he had been running his fingers through it. Even in his sleepy haze, he could see his fingers were irritated, most likely from scratching, and his lips were chapped, his bottom lip with patches of raw skin, swollen and bleeding. He’d been chewing and pulling at the skin of his lips.

“So you remember why we’re rooming? Because I had a stalker on campus?” He worried, starting to scratch at his neck, most likely from anxiety.

“Yeah…I remember very well. They tried to break into the dorm you shared with that Albedo guy. I chased ‘em off,” he groaned, rubbing at his face, trying to rub his drowsiness away, “What about ‘em? Do I need to beat the shit outta them?” He murmured as he studied the man before him.

“Well…no, not yet I don’t think. That’s not…”

“What’s wrong Diluc?” He whispered gently, his voice deep and raspy from having just woken up. His voice alone was enough to send a shiver down Diluc’s spine.

“I’ve been invited to a double date and the people who invited me think I’m dating you and I don’t know what to do so I came to you thinking you’d know what to do and even though I know how to protect myself I’m still not comfortable knowing there isn’t a restraining order on that stalker so I figured —,”

“Diluc, slow down. You’re rambling, I need you to have mercy on me here,” he laughed as he reached for a t-shirt, “Look, I get this is making you anxious. Why not just tell them you don’t feel up to hanging out right now? Better yet, invite them to the apartment, I don’t care.” He slipped the tee on, the collar hang forward from where it had been stretched out.

The idea of ‘asking another friend’ really wasn’t much of an option for Diluc. He had far too many trust issues and the only reason why he’d hung around Ajax was because he was there the night the stalker had broken in, talking pictures of him and stealing precious items. Had it not been for Albedo’s attempt to stop him, Ajax wouldn’t have heard the ruckus.

“Look, I need you to calm down before you tell me. I can’t keep up when you anxiety ramble,” he smiled softly, nodding to the living room, “Go sit on the couch and wait for me, I’ll brush your hair out and you can go from there okay?” For someone as flamboyant as Kaeya — maybe even more so — he was rather calm in the mornings whereas Kaeya would be loud and dramatic.

Striding along their shared apartment, he sat on the couch as he listened to the winds howl and the birds chirp. He remembered telling the pair he had online classes to worry about, the classes becoming stressful, only adding to his exhaustion after the stalker incident. Feeling the sofa dip behind him, he relaxed instinctively as he sat behind him, pulling his hair behind him before he gently brushed at the hairs, careful not to snag a single strand.

“So start from the beginning for me,” he said calmly, his fingers carding through his hair with each stroke of the hairbrush.

“I was invited to a double date…,” he whispered, slumping forward just a bit as he fiddled his his fingers.

“By who?”

“By Albedo.”

“You’re old roommate?” Diluc nodded as best he could, his weight sinking into the cushions beneath him.

“Why not just invite him and his partner here?”

“I tried but he said he doesn’t want to be a bother and he’d rather pay for coffee down the road.” He sank into his touch as he lightly massaged his scalp.

“And you said he thinks we’re dating?” Diluc hummed, tilting his head back, melting under his touch.

“Yeah, I couldn’t get a word in over the phone, I tried to tell him we weren’t and he didn’t believe me.” He sighed, some of his tension leaving his body.

“And you’re worried about that stalker again?” Diluc hummed again, his eyes closing as Ajax braided the sides to pull into a small ponytail, draping the rest if his tamed hair over his shoulders and down his back.

“Then we’ll go and just call it a fake date.” He shrugged, his hands leaving the tamed red locks his fingers were busied with.

“The two of us on a fake date?” Diluc had thought of it, he just hadn’t expected for him to have the same idea, “What would we even do, how would that —,”

“Dont stress about it too much, just follow my lead,” Ajax soothed, brushing a piece of his hair behind his ear. It was brief when Diluc looked away, Ajax’s eyes stealing a glance at his red lips, his gaze lingering a moment longer than he would’ve liked as the other stared off at the pristine, white wall.

“Look, if it bothers you that much then I’ll just go as company alright? No need to worry your pretty head Aphrodite,” Diluc’s skin burned violently as his mind began to crash, he could feel himself drowning once more, water filling his lungs and his throat as a light kiss was pressed to his temple.

“Why did you —,”

“We’re fake dating right? We gotta make it believable Rosebud, might as well get a head start,” he chuckled as he walked back to his room to get dressed, “Let me know what time we’re leaving,” he called down the hall, his voice bouncing and echoing down the cramped space as Diluc sat mindlessly on the sofa. God, he could be so insufferable sometimes. His fingers feathered over his temple, the ghost of his lips setting his heart aflame as he scoffed. Sure, he helped when he was needed and slept most of the day because of his night classes, but he could be so…so annoying.

An hour had ticked away along the clock’s hands, Diluc looking on in severe distaste at the basic tee and jeans Ajax had chosen. It was so basic Diluc couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he drug him back to his room, rifling through the other’s wardrobe, desperate to find something better for him to wear.

“Take that off, before I rip it off you,” Diluc’s tone was bitter, as he glared at him.

“So forward Diluc,” Ajax snickered, pulling the t-shirt off slowly, teasingly, loving the irritated noise that squeezed itself past Diluc’s throat. His touch against his skin was scalding as he took his shirt off for him. It made his heart flutter and burn like a forest fire in his chest with each breath, becoming far more dire with every inhale — dire for the need to touch him delicately, to let his fingers gingerly trace the underside of his jaw and press chaste kisses to his neck. He swallowed thickly, knowing his pale cheeks were burning with his hidden passion, the tips of his ears must have been burning as bright as the other’s hair. If they had, Diluc had chosen to ignore it, surely.

“Put this on.” Clothes were pushed to his chest, an assortment of colors that worked beautifully together, “I think a slate grey would look better, it’s softer,” he started to ramble, right, he was studying to be a fashion designer, he was also a minor in art, “No, no wait,” he went off, fingers gently skimming against his clothes, “Try this instead,” he handed him another outfit, taking away the sweater and pants he had handed him previously.

“Diluc, it’s a fake date…,” he whispered slowly as Diluc went back to looking through his clothes, “Why are you dressed like it’s a fancy outing, wearing heels, and going so in depth with clothes?”

“Well, Ajax,” he hummed with a swift turn of his heel, his hair spinning as he lifted the other’s chin with his finger, sending Ajax reeling from his spot on his bed. Don’t even get him started on the way he said his name like that, “One, it’s called having a taste in fashion and being a minor in art. Two, they aren’t heels, they’re dress shoes,” he leaned in closely, a smirk danced uncharacteristically along his features as his breath fanned over his lips, “We gotta make it believable…Seerose.” Had it not been for rooming with him for four months his German would have been rough. He…he called him Water Lily in German. The perfect payback really. Ajax laughed lightly as the finger slipped from his chin as he stood up.

“Alright alright, I’ll be out in a moment.” Diluc had been grateful he had the other by his side, his heart hammered in his chest.

“How do I look Firefly?” He chimed, a cheesy grin on his face as he walked back into his room.

“Better,” Diluc was pleased with the outfit. It had gone silent rather quickly, the incessant buzz of the AC being the only noise that had filled the room, “Hey…I have a question.”

“Shoot Sparky,” Ajax relaxed, slouching back just a bit as Diluc eyed him, watching his every move like a hawk.

“Did you want to go on the double date with me?” Ajax’s face flushed. Yes, yes he absolutely wanted to…but how could he admit that so casually?

“Just thought it’d be a cool idea, that’s all.”

“A cool idea?” Diluc had doubted that with every fiber of his being. He could tell by the way he spoke and the way his body had tensed up there was something up.

“Yeah, pretty much.” He shrugged, his body going rigid.

“You’re lying.”

“What?”

“I said you’re lying.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time but what makes you think I’m lying?”

“You’re too tense.” He said simply, stepping closer eyes cut to examine every bead of sweat that formed on his face, every freckle and every line in his forehead, “Why did you propose the idea of a fake date, and be honest.”

“I am being honest!” He panicked, he could feel his body begin to flare with heat as Diluc walked closer and closer.

“No you aren’t Ajax.”

“Why does it matter?” Ajax argued, as he took slow, consistent steps back.

“Because I’m the last person you should love—,”

“So what if I do?!” Ajax’s voice echoed within the dark room as sunlight streamed through the curtains as he was backed into the wall. His heart raced in his chest as it clicked. He…he just admitted to loving his roommate. The very roommate he saved four months ago and offered to go on a fake date with. He hadn’t meant for it to be so raw, so unromantic that he himself had to groan at his own stupidity.

“…So you’re actually in love with me?” Ajax’s lips pursed shut, as he looked away, embarrassment settling in his bones, flooding every crevice of his body.

“Ajax?”

“Yes, Diluc, I’m in love with you, for fuck sake.” He groaned, his head thumping against the wall as he threw his head back. He was dizzy, his eyes wide as warm hands cupped his cheeks with a forceful kiss pressed to his lips — desperate. Everything in this moment was a blur to him, he just knew he tasted sweet, like sugar and pastries. He could feel the quiver of his lip and it felt right. It felt so, so right.

“C-call, call it off,” he groaned, melting into the kiss with every touch as his lithe fingers traced the veins in his neck, “Call off the meet up—,” he whispered thinly, pulling him impossibly closer as he kissed him feverishly, passion burning in each press of their lips. Diluc gasped as he was suffocated with every gentle kiss pressed to his skin. He pulled at the hairs of his neck, allowing himself to be dragged down to the bottom of the ocean. Lightly, he pushed him away to breathe, laughing lightly at their disheveled state as he cleaned them both up as best he could.

“Or, we could actually make it a date instead of a fake one,” he proposed, hands busying themselves with bronze curls.

“Yes. Fuck yes, I would absolutely love that,” he whispered as he went back to kissing him over and over, grateful for his stupid mouth talking too much.

“A date it is then,” Diluc mumbled against his lips as he allowed himself to be devoured by the other’s warm embrace, “A date it is…” Ajax sank into his touch, feeling his fingers hold him closely by his jaw as his lips met his over and over, his warmth scorching his skin, a fire that could never be extinguished…a fire that could never be extinguished.

[meltwonu]

| 🎃 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖍 🎃 |

↪ ✦ super duper party people ✦

this chapter pairing; incubus!96z(Jun/Hoshi/Wonwoo/Woozi) x reader

genre&warnings; this is literally a 5-some djfhsd(96z gangbang hskshdksjh). incubus!seventeen, double penetration/anal, blowjobs, handjobs, cum eating, bukakke,  (minor)subspace, tentacles(as if there weren’t enough cocks in this), 2woo(wonwoo/woozi) have a (minor)crying kink don’t look at me, degradation/namecalling/dumbification, dirty talk. ☠️ hooooooly jesus please dont come for me kdfks 😩😩😩

notes; *hypnagogia is that weird threshold between being awake and being asleep where some people experience hallucinations/lucid dreaming/sleep paralysis. Also i have no excuses for this one LMAOOO SKJHFKJH this is def me indulging but thats what halloween is all about right? 🥴 SINS AND DECADENCE!! So enjoy~ have a good day/night!! stay hydrated and I'll see u tomorrow!! (also I accidentally sandwiched this one in between jun and wonwoo’s indiv fics so we got 96z action 3 days in a row kjfhsdkhf)🎃👻 💕

word count; ~3500

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - x - x - x - x - x - x - x

ooh, all the girls and boys on the dance floor,

and they lose all their heads to the groove of the record;

drink a little velvet so you get into the beat,

strike a bolt of lighting and become a superfreak!

Club Hypnagogia was a small club.

A hole in the wall space tucked away on the further side of town that people tried to avoid after the sun went down. Most people knew it to be where the seedier characters tended to lurk, but the small niche knew it to be where the more supernatural characters gathered instead.

You take a sip of your drink, eyes already focused on the two males standing across the club. It wasn’t as busy tonight which came as a shock to you considering it was Halloween night, but they’d caught your eye as soon as you’d walked in and you found yourself unable to look away.

One was much taller than the other but both of them had the same sultry smirk painted on their lips and you soon found yourself already drawn to their allure as you abandon your drink and make your way across the club.

You already knew what you were in for when you stopped in front of them.

“My, my, such a pretty ‘lil thing, aren’t you?” The taller one comments.

You take in their appearances; red and black outfits that showed off their bodies and they also made no effort to hide their crimson eyes and black horns either.

“You’re Soonyoung’s plaything, correct me if I’m wrong.” The shorter one teases; lips easing into a knowing smile.

“Soonyoung’s? I thought she was Jun’s?”

Oops.

The two of them share a look, brows raised at you as you bite your lip. “Um…”

“Interesting. I take it you’re a regular around here then?” The taller one asks, stepping closer to you as you immediately feel their energy pour over you in an instant. “I---I guess you can s-say that…” You mumble.

“D’you think either of them would get mad about this, Wonwoo?”

“Dunno. Let’s find out.”

Wonwoo and Jihoon.

That’s what their names were.

They came as a set; nothing more and nothing less.

Unlike Soonyoung and Jun who always came individually, unwilling to share their time with you.

“Look at you, crying while you choke on Jihoon’s cock.” Wonwoo laughs, legs crossed as he sits in a chair across the bed. “Does Soonyoung make you cry prettily too? Or maybe Jun?” Jihoon’s hands tangle in your hair, holding you still as he thrusts into your mouth. You gag around his cock as your own fingertips rub at yourself through your panties that already stick to you like a second skin.

“She’s even touching herself while she chokes on my cock like a good fuckin’ cockslut.”

Wonwoo gets up from his seat, cropped top shifting slightly to show off his toned abs and slim waist as he joins the two of you on the king size bed. Thank god for the private rooms, you’d said.

He sizes up behind you, his hand over Jihoon’s as he holds your head still for the other male. “Bet you’re already thinking about both of our cocks inside of you at the same time, huh?” There’s a pause and a smirk from Wonwoo, “You wanna be a good plaything for us and let us use your holes like a good cock hungry slut but what are you gonna do about that mouth of yours, hmm? Nothing to keep it filled.”

Jihoon catches his drift, a smirk of his own plastered onto his features as he cuts your airways off with his cock. “Should we invite some friends? Y’know, somethin’ to keep your mouth busy?”

You feel a shiver run up your spine, head fuzzy at the lightheadedness and the thought of more hands on your already burning skin.

Jihoon pulls his cock out of your mouth as you sputter and drool. “Well?”

“Y-yes…” You croak, stray tears slipping down your cheeks as Jihoon tilts your head up to meet his stare. “What was that? Say it louder.”

“Yes, I---I want… I want m-more… I wanna choke o-on cock while the--the two of you f-fuck my c-cunt and my ass…” Tears spill down your cheek as the lust pools in you and Jihoon is quick to lean down, tongue already lapping up the salty tears. He smirks, “You’re so pretty when you cry, y’know?”

Wonwoo nods, licking his lips. “Especially when you’re begging about wanting more cocks in your pretty body.”

“Christ, the two of you are somethin’ else.” A voice chips in. You sniffle, turning your head slightly to see Soonyoung and Jun standing by the door.

You whimper their names as they step closer to the large bed, both also adorning the same knowing smirk that Wonwoo and Jihoon had when you’d seen them for the first time.

“I’ll admit, I’m not particularly good with sharing but my, are you a sight for sore eyes. Sandwiched between two incubus and still wanting more. Tsk, and I thought I was enough for you.” Soonyoung smirks, fingertips reaching out to cup your tear-stained cheeks.

Jun joins you on the bed, leaning up against the headboard. “I will say, you’re quite the risk-taker for a human. Wanting to get fucked by all four of us at once. Care to give us a reason why we even should?”

You let out a choked sob, lips chapped. “I--it’s ‘cause… I--” The words die on your tongue, slightly embarrassed.

Wonwoo takes the hint, chuckling under his breath. “Lemme guess, human males don’t do it for you, do they? They don’t know what you want. Or rather, when you tell them, it scares them off. You want to be treated like a plaything, holes stuffed full of cock ‘n cum until your brain is just a pile of mush, right? You like it when we use our abilities to make you feel good, our tentacles when they wrap around your pretty throat or when they fuck your ‘lil ass with our cocks shoved deep inside your cunt filling you to the brim with cum until it’s spilling out of you. You’re an ‘freak’ to normal standards. Tell me if I’ve hit the nail on the head, or if I should keep going.”

Your fingers still tucked between your legs press hard into your clit at his filthy words, shaky eyes unsure of who to look at first.

“Y--yes… You’re r-right...” You whisper quietly.

Soonyoung leans in, lips ghosting against yours.

“Then let’s indulge.”

You were used to Soonyoung and Jun both using their ‘abilities’ for added pleasure; almost addicted to the way they each knew exactly what you wanted and needed.

“Hey, fuck, it’s my turn!” Soonyoung grumbles, trying to bat away Wonwoo’s fingers that were knuckle deep in your pussy. 

This was precisely why he never liked sharing.

You were on your hands and knees in the middle of the bed, lips wrapped around Jun’s cock and one hand wrapped around Jihoon’s as you worked them both. Wonwoo and Soonyoung were both behind you, arguing as Wonwoo thrusted his index and middle finger into your tight cunt.

“Cripes, Soonyoung, give us a break. And anyway, who says we both can’t finger her pussy at the same time.” Soonyoung’s annoyed expression turns into one of agreement; spitting on his fingers before he positions them next to Wonwoo’s. He sinks them in and you moan around Jun’s cock at how full you felt with four of their fingers fucking you open and getting you read to take their cocks.

You squeeze Jihoon a little harder when you feel a tentacle slithering across your torso, wrapping itself around your midsection to keep you upright as another two wrap themselves around your breasts. The sensations are almost too much for you to handle, but you try your best to stave off your orgasm for now.

“Hmm, we have her cunt filled up but what about her cute ‘lil ass, huh? Give her what she wants already.” Jun comments. You clench around Wonwoo and Soonyoung’s fingers, whimpering when you feel them both spit onto the puckered rim.

This time, a smaller tentacle slithers up your leg until you feel it prodding at your ass and Jun pulls you off of his cock, licking his lips at the precum and drool that drips onto the sheets under you. “Let’s hear it, princess. How much do you want it?”

Your grip momentarily loosens around Jihoon when Wonwoo and Soonyoung both curl their fingers right into your g-spot. “Pl-please... I--I want… I want you to---to fuh--fuck me… use, ah, my h-holes like I’m your--your toy…”

Jihoon laughs in amazement, “Shit, you’re fuckin’ cute. I could get used to you.”  

Jun rubs the head of his cock against your lips, smearing the precum on them before you part your lips for him once more.

You start a rhythm again, letting Jun fuck your mouth and running your hand up as down Jihoon’s cock as you fuck yourself on Wonwoo and Soonyoung’s fingers. The tentacle slowly eases past the rim of muscle and you moan around Jun’s cock at the fullness you feel when it starts fucking into you as well.

“Hmm~ Look at our 'lil dumb cumslut. Filled up just like she wanted. Must be so happy, huh?” Soonyoung teases.

The urge to cum is strong and you feel your self control starting to slip quicker and quicker, unable to warn any of them when your body suddenly seizes up in between them all.

“Oh~ She’s cumming~” Wonwoo singsongs; wiggling his fingers inside of you as your walls flutter around his and Soonyoung’s fingers.

In an instant, they all pull away from you, watching as your body slumps to the sheets and your whole body trembles. Your fingertips go numb, head muddled at the intensity of your orgasm that you seem to momentarily black out.

“Fuck, she’s so pretty when she cums~”

Your eyes clamp shut with unshed tears and you can’t even tell who’s speaking anymore, but the tentacle wrapped around your waist slowly starts to lift you back into your previous position as you whine in sensitivity.

“Since it’s our first time with our new plaything, why don’t Jihoon and I have the honours?”

“Just say you wanna fuck her ass, Wonwoo, it’s fine.” Jun retorts.

Wonwoo shrugs in return, a cocky smirk on his lips. “Okay, I wanna fuck her ass and Jihoon wants to fuck her cunt. The two of you have already gotten to play with her so it’s our turn, isn't it?” He turns to Jihoon who nods, head tilted in mock thought. “Seems fair to me, ‘Woo.”

Soonyoung and Jun both narrow their eyes at the other males, lips pursed. “Fine.” They comment in unison.

“See, the two of you are capable of sharing.”

“Shut up, Wonwoo.”

You feel yourself being readjusted as Jihoon slides underneath you; hand wrapped around his cock as he positions it at your entrance.

You take a shaky breath, lowering yourself down onto him as you brace your shaky hands on his chest. “Oh, f-fuck…” It takes a moment for you to adjust to his size, clenching around him in a vice grip. “You’re s-so big…” Whimpering, the other three watch on as your, still, sensitive body sits pretty on Jihoon’s waist.

Their hands itch to get onto you; eyes fixated on the way you start to swivel your hips on Jihoon’s lap. “Shit, she’s so tight and wet around my cock…” Jihoon mumbles, hands on your waist to replace the tentacles that’d disappeared again.

“Fuck, okay, please tell me I can fuck you already too.” Wonwoo groans, hand wrapped around his own cock as he jerks himself off behind you.

“P---please, Wonwoo…”

He pushes you down until you’re chest to chest with Jihoon, exhaling harshly when he sees how stretched out your cunt was around the other male’s cock. “Fuck, baby, d’you even think you can take me?” He teases.

You let out a series of whines, shaking your hips slightly when Wonwoo rubs the head of his cock at the tight ring of muscle. “Yes, p-please, it’s--it’s, hah, not my first t-time, you don’t have--have to, ah, treat me l-like glass...” He lets out a small scoff, slowly easing his cock in.

“Okay, but you fuckin’ said it, princess. Once me and Jihoon start fuckin’ you ‘til you break, you can’t complain, okay?”

You nod your head shakily, groaning at the feeling of them both inside of you when Wonwoo finally bottoms out. “Fuckin’ do i-it then, make it s-so I only k-know your cocks, fuckin’ ruin m-me…” You slur out.

Soonyoung whistles in surprise as Jun’s eyes widen. “Shit, do you think we influenced her too much with our energy?” The latter asks, only slightly concerned. Soonyoung kneels to your side, tilting your head up until your lust filled eyes meet his.

“How’re you feeling, baby? Too much?” He asks, leaning down once to kiss you on the lips before he pulls away. “I--I feel g-good… really r-really good…” You swivel your hips, letting the two other males you wanted them to move. And they quickly take the hint as Wonwoo draws his hips back before he thrusts back into you as Jihoon cants his hips up into you at the same time, making you cry out at the way they filled you at the same time.

“Fuh--fuck, please…” You beg, unsure of what you even wanted now that you were close to satisfied. Soonyoung tilts your head back towards his cock, tapping your cheek with the head of it as he smears his precum against your skin.

“Open.”

Your lips part and you stick your tongue out, letting Soonyoung fuck your open mouth as you gag around him. You feel the tentacle come slithering back, wrapping itself around your midsection again just as Jun’s fingertips wrap around your wrist.

“Figured I should help you a little, hmm? Can’t have you falling over Jihoon now, can we?” Chuckling, he brings your hand towards his cock as you slowly wrap your hand around him. You let Soonyoung tangle a hand in your hair as you get used to the feeling of all four of them in and around you.

“She’s such a good ‘lil plaything. Can’t believe neither of you shared before.” Jihoon jokes; reaching up to pinch one of your nipples as you moan around Soonyoung.

“It’s ‘cause her fuckin’ cunt is too good to share. I was being selfish on purpose.” Soonyoung grits out. Laughing, Jun thrusts into your closed fist, “Hey, I was maybe willing to share. Neither of you bothered to ask.”

“Neither of us knew she was this fuckin’ good, genius.” Wonwoo retorts. He places his hands on your ass, blunt nails digging into your skin as he alternates his thrusts with Jihoon. “But hey, now that we do, I guess she’ll be seeing more of us, huh?”

You clench around him and Jihoon, whimpering around Soonyoung, and gripping Jun just a little tighter at the thought of seeing them again. 

You could get used to that. 

“Guess she likes the idea.” Jihoon mutters. “Although, it seems like Soonyoung’s still a little reluctant.”

A certain warmth pours over you, eyes fluttering shut at the sensations overwhelming your body. Your head feels fuzzy and unfocused; body feeling weightless as they continue to fuck into you. This was definitely more than your usual encounters with Soonyoung or Jun. 

The head of Jihoon’s cock grazes against your g-spot and you whine around Soonyoung; thrusting your hips back as you chase the feeling. You do your best to keep your hand on Jun as well, tightening your fist around him as a high pitched whine spills from his lips.

You’re unsure of how much time has passed, only able to focus on the way they all fall into a rhythm that keeps you wanting more.

You needed to cum again.

Wonwoo and Jihoon can feel the way you tighten around them both, doubling their pace as they, too, chase their highs.

Jun’s fingertips circle your wrist, tugging you off of him as he goes to lean against the headboard again. “Hey, Soonyoung, let’s let them have their moment.” He grins, wrapping a hand around his cock as he watches. Soonyoung grunts but nods in agreement, slipping his cock from between your lips as you sputter and catch your breath.

“How’re you feeling, princess?” Soonyoung asks.

“H--huh?” You blink slowly, hazy eyes unable to focus on the male.

“My, my, I think we really did fuck her into our dumb ‘lil cockslut.” Wonwoo laughs, fucking into you faster now that Soonyoung and Jun had eased off. “Isn’t that right? Just a dumb set of holes for us to fuck and play with.”

“Y-yeah…” You whisper; head rolling as Soonyoung rests next to Jun against the headboard. Your body buzzes as you let Wonwoo and Jihoon fuck into you at a harsh pace, losing their rhythm as they feel their impending orgasms.

“I’m gonna cum, f-fuck, cum with us, princess. Let us feel how fuckin’ tight you get for both of us while we fill you up with cum.” Jihoon growls, fingertips reaching down to rub at your clit.

The action proves to be too much as you cum on his command, lips parting in a high pitched cry while you clamp down on both of them. Their hips stutter as they follow suit, cocks snug inside you as they ride out their highs with you. The tentacle wrapped around your waist disappears again in the midst of your orgasm and you feel your body go slack; arms and legs trembling as you do your best to not fall onto Jihoon.

“Hoo~ Isn’t that a sight, Jun? She’s so fucked out of her mind right now, she can barely even hold herself up.” 

You let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, riding out the remnants of your orgasm as Wonwoo starts to pull out of you.

A garbled moan floats past your lips at the feeling and you can’t help but thrust your hips back as you chase for him to fill you up again.

“Chist, she’s insatiable.” Wonwoo quips, eyes hyper-focused on the cum that drips down from your ass. He wraps a strong arm around your midsection after a moment, helping you up as Jihoon slides out from underneath you.

You sit with your legs folded outwards, cum pooling underneath you onto the sheets. It feels warm and sticky; pin pricks on your skin as you sit in the afterglow of your orgasm.

“Our turn~” Jun singsongs, gesturing to Soonyoung who gets up from his place, quicker than lightning.

They each kneel on either side of you, hands wrapped around their own cocks as they jerk themselves off above you. “Tongue out, princess.” Soonyoung groans.

You sit directly in between them as they cum, both of them covering your face and chest in rivulets of the warm, salty substance. It trickles down your hair, to your cheeks and mingles on the bed of your tongue as you grind down onto the sheets underneath you. Their moans draw you in and make you crave more, brows furrowed and eyes clamped shut as a wave of arousal floods your system again.

They all can tell as soon as it happens; eyes flashing a blood red as they, too, gain a new wave of energy from your actions.

Soonyoung and Jun scoot further away as their orgasms ebb off and all four of them pause to admire your body covered in cum.

You draw your tongue back in, swallowing the mix of Soonyoung and Jun’s cum and it’s the latter who leans back in; fingertips swiping at the cum that covers your eyelids. He brings the soaked digits to his lips, licking them clean as you gently open your eyes.

The first thing you see is all four of them in a half circle around you; the same dreamy smile plastered on all of their faces.

Your cheeks burn crimson as the shyness overtakes you with all of their eyes on you at once.

“Um…” You don’t even know what to say next, instead waiting on one of them to take the lead.

Jihoon’s the first one to scoot forward, gentle hands pushing you back down until your back rests against the soiled sheets. He parts your shaky legs, this time leaning over you as he grins.

“Well, we’ve got all night, princess. How about we indulge a little more?”

[sunlightxing]

Show Me Some Respect

After working for years as a secretary to General Hux aboard the ship, the Finalizer, life could not have been better for you.

That was until Hux informed you that Commander Kylo Ren would be joining you on that ship. Almost immediately, you both resent each other, but after being forced to spend more alone time with him, you begin to wonder, what's so bad about him after all?

Tags on A03 Include:

-Force Choking (Star Wars)

-Fluff and Smut

-Face-Fucking

-Not How the Force is Used

-Armitage Hux Needs a Hug

-Kylo Ren is an asshole

-Y/N Makes Poor Choices

-Praise Kink

-Choking

-Cum-Eating

-Orgasm Delay/Denial

-Sexual Tension

-Sexual Abuse

-Y/N Goes Through A Lot

-Murder

-Possessive Kylo Ren

-Protective Armitage Hux

-Kylo and Hux Get Along Maybe Twice

Chapter 1: Do As He Says

A dread filled morning takes you by suspense when your boss, General Hux, riddles you with nothing but fear for your first encounter with the menacing, Commander Kylo Ren.

A/N: Hello to readers here on tumblr. I’m a little new to posting original work (especially writing) on here so bear with me as I figure it all out! I hope you enjoy my first ever Kylo Ren X Reader story (I dont use y/n cause I don’t like it, my deepest apologies)

Why’d you leave us?

A faint voice called out to you in the distance, so soft and silky, daintily whispering to you. Despite the initial faintness, it slowly began to get closer and closer, its volume ever increasing.

Your eyes fluttered open, but the bright sun blinded them, causing you to seal them shut once more. Eventually, they adjusted to the light, and you opened them to see so many large, and bare trees stretching towards the sky above you. White speckles, snow, were falling all around you, some flakes even landing on your nose.

It felt oddly peaceful, the soft moss around you feeling more comfortable than your own bed. It encased around you, smothering you with warmth and comfort. You kept your eyes shut, and felt yourself seconds from falling asleep on the slightly snow-covered ground. For just a moment, your reopened your eyes, getting one more view of your surrounding before drifting off. But then, to your horror, you saw that the ground next to you was completely covered in blood.

Your eyes widened in fear as you jolted away from your spot on the ground, and pushed yourself up against a nearby tree. The voice in the distance was coming closer towards you, and kept roaring louder and louder. The blood on the ground began to expand, seeping through the moss at an alarming rate. It surrounded the entire area around you, except directly where you were sitting.

As you glanced back up at the sky, the snow, which had now transformed into an icy hail, had begun to take on an even stranger form. In its image, flashes of their faces blew past you, and with it, followed the sound of their screams and cries. Pleading for help, for you to save them. The smell of burning wood wafted into your nostrils, and that voice in the distance was still growing louder. You knew that soon, it would be upon you.

"Wake up, wake up. Please fucking wake up!"

In a jolt of cold sweats, you gasped back to reality, frantically scanning the area around you to make sure it was safe.

"Just a dream, it was just a dream."

Your breath was sporadic, leaving you a panting and anxious mess as you pulled yourself out of bed. Even the smallest movement caused a massive amount of pain surge to through your head.

"I can't take another one of those nightmares." You thought, grabbing the glass of water from your nightstand. You looked over at your clock groggily, and your heart sank upon seeing that you had overslept, giving you little to no time to prepare for the day.

The shower water was freezing when you initially turned it on, per usual. It always felt embarrassing to have to stand outside the door, completely nude, occasionally dangling your finger under the water to see if it had heated up yet.

Over 3 years ago you began working as a secretary to General Hux, and though there was a monstrous amount of glitz and glam thought to come with such a job, it couldn't have been more painfully annoying.

Sure, Hux was somewhat kind and caring towards you, but every other person you pitifully encountered treated you like shit. They'd throw their fits when you wouldn't deliver their papers, shine their boots, tasks they very easily could've done themselves, but simply refused. It wasn't the most difficult job in the world, despite the constant hazing. However, their was a shocking increase in secretaries amongst the First Order. It was most definitely due to the jobs incredible bore-ability, and the fact whoever was placed in such a position would be treated like garbage by everyone they encountered.

You rushed through your shower, only using the time to wash your hair and then yourself. The steam from the hot water had fogged your mirror, which made it hard for you to see your hair when putting it up into two long french braids. You pulled a few strands out in the front, trying to look somewhat nice since your uniform sure didn't help. It was a shapeless, olive green suit, with baggy pants, and thick, heavy boots. The hat that came along with it also wasn't very flattering, but it wasn't like anyone saw you other than your crewmates, and General Hux.

You took another swig from your cup of water as you stared out your glass window and into the infinite galaxy. Your brain decided to alert you of how Hux would be ridiculously pissed off if you were late, as today was one of the days you dreaded most of all since you began working on the Finalizer. The ship would be making its way back to Starkiller base, and you were anything but excited for that.

Several technicians raced by you, heading off to fix some malfunction in the interior of the ship. You always looked at them and wondered if they enjoyed their jobs here, or if, just like you, it was a love-hate relationship.

You entered the control room, staring the other programmers and pilots plugging away at their stations. Though they didn't technically fly the Finalizer, their work was incredibly important. You liked to think yours was important as well, but in reality, it was pointless. Technically, you were Huxs' right hand. As a result, he told you practically anything and everything. So it was more like you were a glorified therapist that followed him around like a lost pet.

"Cadet," a voice said behind you. General Hux was standing at the entrance to the control room, looking a lot more frazzled than usual. "Will you walk with me for a moment?"

You nodded, following closely behind him. Unlike usual, you decided to keep your mouth shut, hoping he would start to explain why he looked so disheveled and unnerved, but he didn't say a word. It was becoming harder to not acknowledge how his body trembled intensely with ever step he took.

"General, if I may ask, is everything alright?" You questioned sweetly, trying not to sound disrespectfully intrusive.

Hux let out a heavy sigh, stopping for a moment to rest against a nearby wall. "I am, not alright," he panted, his voice shaking more than his body was. "When we arrive at Starkiller base, you're going to have to meet The Commander, and I already know you two will not get along."

Your face recoiled as you began to dig into the back of your mind. "Did he mean Commander Ren? That stubborn brute?" You laughed to yourself, while Hux was seconds from engaging in a panic attack.

"This is no laughing matter cadet!" He hollered, his voice nearly cracking at every syllable.

You let out a long sigh. "Hux, I can deal with Kylo Ren. He doesn't scare me at all."

"He should scare you," Hux stated plainly. "My last secretary, before you. He made one simple mistake, and Ren saw to it that the poor boy was eradicated."

Your eyes grew wide with fear, darting away from his gaze so he couldn't see the horror on your face. Hux said it plain as day, if you made so much as one, small mistake, Commander Ren would personally see to it that you were eradicated as well.

Hux groaned. "We both work for the same Supreme Leader, which means I have to work with him." His breathing patterns began to grow more heavy and frantic, and his face flushed with a vibrant red.

You tried to calm him down, as you knew the ship couldn't make the entire flight back without his orders. The two of you had gotten rather close, and you had a lot of respect for him. He'd come in some days looking like he'd seen a ghost, and you wouldn't have been shocked if he had. If the Commander managed to make Hux, your boss, that anxious, you knew this couldn't be good.

After what seemed like seconds, you had arrived at your destination. Just the sight of Starkiller base sent shivers down your spine.

Sure, you'd been their plenty of times, but you never had to willingly interact with the Commander before. In fact, you'd never so much as seen the smallest fragment of his figure. Which would make his reveal all the more terrifying.

As you approached the landing bay, the large metal doors began to open to allow your entrance in. Hux came up behind you, his posture had been perfected, and all expression on his face had been wiped. He looked like a whole new man, and you weren't sure that if you wanted to get on the Commander's good side, you'd have to become a whole new woman.

"The Commander would like us both to meet with him in his quarters before he joins us onboard." Hux said, his voice shaking. You nodded as you took one more look at the hull of the control room, not sure if it was your last.

The pair of you made your way from the control room, to the landing bay. A small craft would take you from the Finalizer to the bay on Starkiller, but you wanted nothing more than just to stay put. There were ways where you could completely avoid the Commander for the entire duration he was here, you hoped. You would just have to hide in a waste bucket every time he came near Hux, and that didn't seem so bad. You groaned, glancing over at Hux as the cruiser landed rather dramatically at the center of the bay.

“Hux, he’s going to hate me, isn’t he?”

He sighed, placing an awkward arm on your shoulder, his attempt at comfort. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

As the pair of you walked down the long hallways of the Starkiller base, it felt as if you were walking to your doom. Which, in reality you probably were. Two stormtroopers had been sent to escort you from the ship to Commander Rens' quarters. They didn't say a word the entire trip to said quarters, despite Hux's several attempts.

Eventually, the four of you arrived at what you presumed to be the Commander's meeting room. The two troopers walked up to the door, placing a loud knock on it to signal their arrival, and then stationed themselves on either side of it. Hux took in a deep breath as he began typing into a small keypad attached to the entrance, and then, the door was open.

"Commander, my apologies on us being later than normal." Hux said, walking through the doorway to the meeting room.

"Oh Gods."

Commander Ren looked like nothing you had expected, though you couldn't really see all of him. He was tall, absolutely massive, his muscles practicality protruding from his sleeves. But his face, you couldn't see so much as an outline of that. Covering it was a thick, solid metal mask, breathing canal and all. He was a true Vader knock off.

He slowly turned around, a feeling of pure rage wafting off of him. For a brief moment, you were certain he was seconds from smashing Huxs' head in, but then he stopped dead in his tracks. His head titled from Huxs' body to your own. Though you couldn't see his facial expression underneath that mask, you new it was one of disgust.

"Who are you?" He asked, gesturing in your direction. You arched your eyebrows in confusion, could he not tell just by simply looking at your uniform?

"No answer?" Commander Ren scoffed.

"I'm his secretary, Commander," you stated, gesturing in Huxs' direction, "didn't you request my presence here? "

He shook his head, placing a hand on the front of that intimidating facial shield. The movement made it look as if he was gaining a headache from your small amount of talking. "This is who you had replace the old one?" Commander Ren hissed, "have you no shame, Hux?"

"Ren, she is very talented in her work and a fantastic secretary," Hux responded, glancing over in your direction. "She has made a fantastic replacement." You smiled, happy to know Hux would still show you some form of kindness around the Commander.

"Hux," Commander Ren stated, "I'll trust your judgment here." He approached Hux slowly, giving him ample time to make your poor General tremble in fear. The Commander stopped inches from his face, his mask nearly touching the tip of Huxs' nose.

"If she makes so much as one mistake, she's gone."

Your face recoiled in disgust. "Well, what the fuck?" You thought to yourself. Did he actually doubt your abilities that much? Or was this all some sort of twisted test of your competence?

The Commander darted his head around, glaring at you in rage. Your body went completely stiff as his masked gaze penetrated your mind. A trill of pain surged through your temples, like something was digging around in your brain for any scrap of information. "That language of hers will not be tolerated either." He spat, looking back at Hux.

"My what? The hell is he talking about? I have yet to swear!" Your brain was spiraling out of control, and that trill of energy still surged throughout your brain.

His ego was disgustingly immense, not to mention he was a delusional idiot. The fool was making up down right lies about you, and to wait gain? He was already addressing Hux in such a disrespectful manner, he didn't need to take it out on you as well. But what even gave him the right to talk down to Hux in such a manner? He wasn't in any better of a position to lead than the General was, not to mention the fact that Hux was a lot easier to deal with, and a lot less moronic.

Commander Ren stood in place, his body shaking violently with rage. Huxs' body was also shaking, but his was out of fear. This was the first time you'd ever seen Hux so threatened by anyone. Usually, he presented such a mass amount of authority and dictation. But here, he was nothing more than a coward.

The Commander gave you an over-the-shoulder glance, and in that moment, you felt time stop. The world around you faded into black. Now, only you and him were in that room, and fear and panic began to rapidly set in. Your body had turned chillingly cold, and air escaped you.

A flash of light hit your eyes, his leather glove reflecting off the overhead chandelier. Before you could get a warning out, he slammed his fist into the wall next to Huxs' head. His curled hand punctured the metal frame, sending hundreds of small electrical sparks flying, leaving bare and broken wires in its wake.

"You teach her to show me some respect, or I will" Commander Ren hissed, his clenched fist now inches from Huxs' face.

Hux folded onto the metal floor, panting uncontrollably as the Commander hovered menacingly above him. You stood gazing at the pair of them, completely motionless, gulping down the fear that was now lodged in your throat. Your pupils shook in horror at what you had just seen, how absolutely horrid your new ship companion was.

Commander Ren glared at you, watching as every inch of your body trembled at his presence. He scoffed, storming out of the room with a prompt slam of the door, the sheer force alone causing you to jump. You looked back at Hux, whose forehead was drenched in sweat, and a slight tremor was visible on his hands. Carefully, as not to frighten him more, you reached down for his hand, an effort to help guide him up off of the floor.

"General..." You pleaded, wrapping your hand around his own as you began to lift. Hux shook you away, pulling himself off of the ground, trying not to show weakness. It was obvious that he was embarrassed of your viewing of his encounter with Commander Ren, but he shouldn't have been. All that quarrel showed was the fact Commander Ren was a prissy little bitch, and tyrant.

Hux dusted off his long coat, and smoothed back his red hair to its original, kept manner. He bit his lip, holding himself back from lashing out against anything the Commander had just done. You hoped he would do it anyway, give you some sort of hint that he too hated Commander Rens guts. But instead, he stared intensely at the door, his eyes becoming bloodshot with rage.

"If you want to make it out of here alive," Hux gulped, "you must to do as he says."

You scoffed in disbelief. "Hux you cannot possibly believe that," you cried. "He isn't as high and mighty as he claims to b-"

Hux slammed his hand over your mouth, his bare fingers tracing over the lining of your lips. His eyes stared painfully into your own, showing so much fear and uncertainty. "I told you to do as he says!" He hollered, the veins in his neck protruding from his already rose colored flesh. Hux removed his hand from over your mouth, and with another brush of his cape, he was gone out the doorway too, much less dramatically than the Commander.

You turned around, looking at the meeting room remorsefully. Your life had just flipped completely upside down, and you know now that you had no say in anything that would happen to it. Hux obviously wasn't going to be any help in standing up against Commander Rens' tyranny, so it looked like you were on your own.

And you hated being on your own.

You walked back to the ship with shane covering your entire body. Every person who passed by you, whether it was a technician or a stormtrooper, seemed to be mocking you. While that wasn't at all the case, Commander Rens' doubt of your capabilities made it seem like everyone else doubted them as well.

As you turned a corner, so flustered and furious you didn't even know what planet you were on, another secretary slammed into you, spilling an incredibly hot and sticky liquid all over your uniform. "Oh my Gods, I am so sorry!" The girl whimpered, reaching for a cloth towel at her side to try and help dry you off.

You clenched your jaw tightly, worried all your rage might come flying out at her. She looked to be so incredibly overworked and stressed, just like you were about to be. You wondered if she had ever dealt with Commander Ren, or maybe her own General was just as terrible as he was, though you doubted that was humanly possible. You hated to admit it as much as the next person, but the treatment of secretaries, especially those that were female, could not have been more horrendous. Every one you had encountered had a horror story, or was currently living through one. Thankfully, your first job was with someone like Hux, a lot more patient and caring than any other. Thoughts crossed your mind of how awful your life would've been if your first job was to Commander Ren. Just the idea alone sent shivers down your spine.

The girl finally finished drying off the excess with a little help from you, but your clothes were soaked with whatever fluid she dumped onto you. Her eyes slowly began to swell up with tears as she stared at your ruined uniform.

"Hey," you said, taking her hand in your own. “There’s no need to cry. I'll go clean it myself, and it'll be good as new, don't worry."

She sniffled, reaching her other hand up to wipe the tears off of her face. Never could you have managed to snap at that girl, because you knew exactly what kind of suffering she was going through, as you had just dealt with the worst of it all. The girl hugged you in gratitude before scurrying back to wherever she came from, getting a replacement for the drink she had dropped. You took in a deep breath as you dreadfully looked down at your tarnished gown. Starkiller base was not somewhere you were familiar with, so finding a washroom was going to be far greater task than it should have been.

For what seemed like hours, you scanned each and every room across the vastness of the ship, hoping to finally find an area for you to clean off your soiled uniform. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched a stormtrooper exit a room with a fully washed, black undergarment, and you knew you had finally found your sought for destination. Rushing into the room, you hoped no one else would be inside, so you could quickly rip off your uniform and wash it without anyone seeing you in nothing but a bra and underwear.

Thankfully, no one was inside the washroom, giving you ample time to strip practically nude, and lock the door behind you as to not allow anyone to barge in.

Staring blankly at the machine that scrubbed and cleansed your attire, the chill of the empty room you sat in was beginning to sting your bare skin, your hair sticking up and goosebumps forming across every inch of it.

The process could not have taken any longer, but finally, it was washed, and ready to be moved to the next machine for drying. Minutes passed by as you sat in the cold and ever darkening room, rubbing up against the warm drying machine periodically as to not die of hypothermia.

"For God's sake, can you just hurry up!" You cried, slamming your foot against the machine, hoping that would throw it into a faster gear.

It did no good, the machine kept carrying on at its slow pace, causing nothing but agony and frustration on your part. You groaned, flopping back into the chair you had been sitting in, only for it to crumble into a hundred tiny pieces as you flopped yourself onto it.

"Mother fucker!" You groaned, lifting yourself off of the cold, metal floor. A bruise was clearly about to form upon your ass after that downfall.

"Language, cadet. That mouth will get you nowhere."

You spun around quickly, leaving your bra-covered breasts completely exposed to the eyes of Commander Ren, who now stood perfectly centered at the entrance of the washroom, the door closed behind him. Your eyes jolted to the lock that was now unfastened on the doorway, yet upon making eye contact, it clicked back into a locked position. Looking down, you noticed Commander Rens' finger was out of place from the rest of his clenched fist, and though at first you had no idea how he managed to weasel his way in here, now you did.

"The force?" You questioned in the back of your mind, watching the pointer finger retreat back to its clenched position.

His head tilted down, obviously showing his gaze had shifted from your eyes, to your almost fully naked body. You covered as much of yourself as you could, feeling completely flustered that so much of you was exposed to his eyes.

"What?" You asked. "Planning on insulting me again? Just get out."

"You're hung up on that?" He questioned, letting a small chuckle escape his throat. "I could have said so much worse."

You rolled your eyes at him, now hoping to make him so angry he would storm out like he did before. "Good for you, Commander. I'm sure you could've."

Silence reigned in the room longer than you would've preferred it to. You had hoped he would make some ridiculous, insulting statement so you could fire back at it, but he was silent.

"Do you mind?" You questioned, tilting your head towards the doorway so he could take the hint to leave.

"The ship was supposed to depart exactly 17 seconds ago," he remarked, keeping his gaze on your chest area, "Hux was going to be sent after you, if I didn't choose to."

You curled your lip sarcastically, letting out a small laugh along with it. "Well thank you so much for that, sir," you said sarcastically, again, gesturing towards the door in hopes that he would leave.

There was a long pause, giving you time to reflect on what he had just said. He would've had no knowledge your uniform had been soiled, tarnished by that poor girls dropped beverage.

So how the fuck did he know you were here?

He stood motionless. The only noise he exuded was the almost asthmatic breathing sounds from his mask. "Finish whatever task this is." Commander Ren instructed, finally moving his gaze away from your body.

He turned to the doorway, giving you a final glance before opening the door, and exiting the room. You stared at the metal frame in disbelief, the fact the Commander had just seen you in arguably your most venerable state was horrifying and embarrassing.

A slight movement on the door caught your attention, as the knob shifted back to its locked position. "Jeez, how kind of him," you scolded, turning back to the dryer that had finally finished its job, of course, right after the Commander had left.

After unlocking the door to the washroom, adorning your freshly cleaned uniform, you sprinted down the halls towards the bay. Thankfully, there wasn't a line of people standing outside the washroom waiting to use it themselves. For if they had seen the Commander in there with you, things would have just gotten so much more complicated.

You marched down the halls, now thinking about how ridiculously awkward your next several months of encounters with the Commander would be, now that your second meeting with him was when you were practically naked.

“Gods. This day cannot get any worse."