#i need to get and keep a guarantee until then which will be... difficult. but for sunday i will do it

[gachaparadise]

Imaginary. He's Imaginary. Why are we still here just to suffer. Excited for him to be confirmed for playable for the third time but goddamn they keep doing this to me.

[daisynik7]

Sweet Like Honey

Chapter 1: The First Time

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~4.1k

cw: established relationship, fluff, smut – PIV sex (missionary), nipple play, clitoral stimulation, sex without a condom, creampie, pet names

Summary: Nanami invites you to his place for the first time, where he offers to cook you dinner, which leads to a night of many other firsts. 

Author's Notes: I originally wrote these spicy side stories for A Bento For Kento last year and I'm just now getting around to editing/rewriting some of it to match more of my current style! I hope you like it, thank you for reading! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

Sweet Like Honey Masterlist | Next Chapter

Being inside Nanami’s apartment for the first time makes you nervous for some reason. Maybe it’s the feeling of being in somebody’s personal space that makes you uneasy. You like this man, of course, but there’s still so much you don’t know about him. It’s only been two weeks since you started dating. Two weeks since your first and second kiss at the street food festival. With Ren still living with you at home, it’s been difficult to find time to be alone with Nanami. 

Until tonight.

He offers to make dinner, which is already such a huge turn on for you. The smell coming from the kitchen is intoxicating. You can’t recall the last time that someone cooked a meal from scratch to serve to you. There’s yearning in the pit of your stomach. Is it hunger caused by the aroma of the food? Or desire for the man currently preparing the food? It’s both, definitely both. 

You’re currently sitting on the couch with a glass of red wine in hand, classical music playing on his stereo in the background. You don’t expect anything less from him, already so smitten by the classy Kento Nanami. You sneak a glance at him in the kitchen, admiring the black apron he’s wearing over a blue dress shirt and his usual spotted tie. He looks extremely attractive right now. In fact, he is extremely attractive. Feeling increasingly nervous each passing minute, you chug your liquor before standing up to walk into the kitchen. He takes his focus away from the pan to look at you, asking, “Need anything?”

“I was actually coming here to ask you the same question,” you respond with a small smile. 

“I’m almost done. Just want the sauce to thicken up a bit more.” He eyes your empty glass. “Need a refill?”

You hold it out to him, nodding. “Yes, please.” 

He pours the bottle, filling it halfway. Without a word, you tip it into your mouth, taking three large gulps to swallow it down. From your peripheral, you catch Nanami watching you curiously.

Why are you freaking out right now? You’re with your boyfriend, who has been nothing but kind, gentle, and sweet to you. But tonight, you are hyper aware that it’s just the two of you, alone inside his swanky apartment, the bedroom just a few feet away.

It’s just dinner, you remind yourself. This doesn’t guarantee that the two of you will have sex tonight. Besides, why are you thinking about sex to begin with? Get your mind out of the gutter. He invited you here for dinner, nothing more. However, there’s no denying that it’s been on your mind. You nearly pounced on him at the street food festival. Every night, you replay the memory of his touch; his gentle hand on your cheek, his warm mouth on yours. How his lips feel against the skin of your wrist. The way his jaw clenches when he’s trying to hold back. You want to feel that again. You want more. 

You’ve seen each other a couple more times after that night, either out in public or at your house with Ren. And with your protective younger brother always keeping an eye out, your goodnight kisses have been tame, a little too tame, if you’re being honest. To say you’ve been eager for this alone time with him is an understatement. Despite this, you can’t help being a tad nervous. Will you two be compatible in the bedroom? Are there any weird kinks he’s into? Is he okay with the kinks that you’re into? These questions won’t be answered all in one night, so there’s no use in stressing about it when sex isn’t even on the table yet. You’re only focus tonight should be to enjoy this delicious home-cooked meal courtesy of your super hot boyfriend and let everything play out the way it should. 

“Go ahead and sit. I’ll serve you.” You snap out of your reverie at the sound of his voice and take a seat at the dining table, taking the bottle of wine with you. Soon, he appears with two steaming plates in hand, setting one in front of you and the other at his spot next to you. “Carbonara and garlic bread. This is my favorite meal to cook,” he says, sitting down and filling his glass. 

“This smells and looks incredible. I’m so impressed!” you beam at him, eyes glowing with admiration. 

“That’s a huge compliment, coming from you,” he responds, smiling.

“Pasta is not a specialty of mine. You’ll have to teach me one day.”

“Sounds like a good date idea. Let’s plan that soon.”

You twirl your fork around the noodles for the perfect bite. It’s still piping hot off the plate. When it hits your tongue, your taste buds sing. The sauce is perfectly creamy with just the right amount of cheese and pepper flavor. The salt from the crisp bits of pancetta adds enough flavor without being too overpowering. The noodles are al-dente, just the way you like it. Everything together creates a luxurious, well-balanced dish. Even the garlic bread is delicious; he roasted the garlic beforehand, surrounding the apartment with one of your favorite scents. “Delicious. Absolutely delicious. It tastes even better than it looks, and it looks incredible.”

“Now you’re just exaggerating,” he says, a faint blush on his cheeks. 

“No, Nanami. It’s seriously amazing. Thank you for cooking this for me.” You take another big forkful, closing your eyes and making small noises of satisfaction. He doesn’t speak, a small smile on his face smile as he eats his own food, occasionally glancing at you to make sure you’re still enjoying the meal. The silence isn’t awkward; it feels comfortable. Both of you indulging in delicious food and great company. 

When you’ve scraped your plate clean with your last piece of garlic bread, you finish the rest of your wine, letting out happy sigh as you rub your belly. Nanami finishes soon after and stands up to take the plates into the kitchen. You follow, offering, “Let me wash the dishes! It’s the least I could do after you’ve fed me.”

“I’ll put them in the dishwasher, don’t worry.”

You lean against the countertop, helping him load the dishwasher. After the cycle stars, he steps towards you, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you for dinner. Seriously. That was so delicious,” you say, peering up at him. 

“You know that I already like you, right?” he chuckles, planting another smooch on you. “You don’t have to keep flattering me.”

“I’m just being honest! That was one of the best meals I’ve ever had! But I’m obviously biased because I already like you too,” you tease, winking. From behind him, you suddenly notice something on his fridge. Curious, you walk up to it. It’s the bento box notes you wrote him, hung up by magnets, each one wrinkled from wear and tear. Smiling, you ask, “You hung them up on your fridge?

He stands beside you, arm brushing yours. “Of course. They keep me going throughout the week.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, beaming at him. “You are the sweetest man, you know that?” You kiss, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you in closer. The fact that he still has those notes, now hung up on his fridge like artwork, makes your heart swell. How is this man even real? And how are you lucky enough to have him as your boyfriend?

He pulls away from the kiss, voice wavering just the slightest. “Should we move to the couch?”

Heat creeps into your face as he leads you into the living room. Is the wine getting to you? Or is it your nerves? You’re the one who initiated the kiss, so why are you surprised that he wants to move it to the couch?! There’s no way he wants to get it on right now; you just ate. Isn’t there a rule about waiting thirty minutes after you eat, or does that only apply to swimming?

You both sit on the catch, knees touching, holding hands. He gazes at you lovingly, even as you try to avoid his gaze. “Are you okay? You seem a little distracted.” He brushes your cheek with his thumb, his touch giving you the flutters below your stomach. 

“I’m fine,” you lie, totally flustered now.

“Are you sure?” He brings your hand up to his lips, placing soft kisses between your knuckles. Oh no, your absolute weakness.

“I guess I’m just a little nervous,” you admit.

“What are you nervous about?”

You let out a timid laugh. “I don’t know. I’m just being weird.”

He stops kissing to study you. “You can be honest with me. Please tell me what’s on your mind.”

Taking a deep breath, you explain, “I want to get some things out in the open. Make sure we’re both on the same page.”

There’s a worried glint in his eyes. “Okay.”

Another deep breath. “So, um. Sex. I want to have sex. With you. Do you…I mean, would you like that, too? Is that, um, something you want to do with me?”

You can see a small grin forming on his lips, but he immediately goes back to a neutral expression to answer, “Yes. Very much so.”

Cheeks burning, you reply, “Okay. That’s…good to know.” You clear your throat before posing the next question. “Have…have you been tested recently? I’m sorry to ask this, I just want to make sure we’re practicing safe sex.”

Calmly, he says, “I got tested two weeks ago as soon as we started dating. Everything is good.” Before you can continue, he adds, “And don’t apologize for asking that. That’s a very valid question.”

You nod, easing up a bit. “I got tested a few months ago when I last saw my gynecologist. And I’m also good. I haven’t had sex since then, so yeah. I’m good. We’re good.”

“Good.”

There’s a moment of silence as you properly process this conversation. Why were you so anxious? You should have known that talking to Nanami like this would be easy, considering how mature he is. 

“Oh! Also, I’m on birth control. Just FYI. In case you were wondering,” you blurt out. 

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” he says, a kind expression on his face. Butterflies flutter in your stomach at the way he looks at you. 

Finally relaxed, you say, “Okay, I think that’s all I wanted to talk about. Thank you.”

“Thank you for opening up to me.” He places his hand on yours, caressing you with his thumb.

You ask, “Do you have any questions for me?” He shakes his head no. You continue. “I’m sorry if this is awkward. I just want to make sure we go about this the right way.” The fluster on your face is definitely noticeable; there’s no hiding it now.

His smile brightens as he scoots closer to you. “You’re too cute, you know that?” 

At that, you let out another giggle, glancing down at your lap, shy for an entirely different reason now.

“I really like you. You have no idea,” he whispers, breath warm on your ear. When did he get so close? Your heart pounds like crazy, enough that he can probably hear it. 

Attempting to lighten the mood, you joke, “You still like me after all that interrogation?”

“I think I like you even more now.” There’s lust dripping in his voice. “Can I kiss you?”

Without saying another word, you lean in, pressing your lips to his. The kiss starts slow and gentle. His hand cups your face, thumb grazing your cheekbone, reminding you vividly of your first kiss. How the sounds of the festival were drowned out by the thumping of your heartbeat. Now, the classical music playing in the background is muted by the wet noises your lips make against Nanami’s mouth. His other hand slides up your thigh, fingers dangerously close to the arousal between your legs. The first time, he was holding back. This time, he’s not. He wants you. 

He pulls your head back gently, lips trailing down your neck, sucking on your skin where it’s most sensitive. As if he knows exactly where to touch you to stimulate every nerve in your body. He slides under your blouse, fingers grazing the bulge of your belly. Feeling insecure, you grab his wrist and push his hand away. He stops to ask, “What’s wrong?”

“I just…I just ate, so I’m a bit bloated,” you confess. “Feeling a little self-conscious.”

With another kind expression, he says, “I understand. I won’t touch you there.” He returns to your thigh, kissing your neck once more, traveling up to your ear to whisper, “You are beautiful. I hope one day you’ll let me worship every part of your gorgeous body.”

Your insecurity is quickly overtaken by the need to feel him on every inch of your bare skin. Without thinking, you take his hand and slip it beneath your blouse, allowing him to touch you there now. Why did you even bother trying to resist him?

He laughs softly. “Good girl.”

Hearing him utter those words as he touches has your pussy throbbing. There’s nothing else on your mind except feeling him all over you. Feeling him inside you. He squeezes your breast, his thumb flicking your nipple over the fabric of your bra. 

“Want to move into the bedroom?”

Without a second thought, you answer, “Yes.”

~~~

Fingers entwined with hers, he takes her into his room, watching as she lies on his king-sized bed. He straddles her, hands at the hem of her shirt. “Can I undress you?”

She nods, sitting up to help him strip her, her upper body exposed except for the bra covering her breasts. He doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable; he can tell she’s a bit nervous, despite the obvious desire in her eyes. Most importantly, he wants this to be an enjoyable experience. “Is it okay if I take your bra off?”

She gulps loudly before breathing out, “Yes.”

He wraps his arms around her, fingers grasping for the clasp. She kisses him hastily, lightly nipping at his lower lip, his dick growing stiffer inside his pants. She reaches for him, palming his strained cock until he’s uncomfortable hard against the fabric. When her bra finally comes lose, he tugs it off her body, tossing it to the floor, admiring her bare bosom. 

“Can I suck on your nipples?” he huffs, his patience wearing thin. “Do you like that?”

“Yes, I really like that.”

She really likes it, she says. Good to know. He squeezes her breast, sucking on her nipple. His free hand massages the other, pinching it lightly until he it’s perky against his fingertips. He circles his thumb around it as he continues to work her tits, making lewd noises as he releases her with a wet pop, only to latch onto her again, sucking harder. She moans, his cock twitching with every erotic sound that comes out of her salacious mouth. 

Nipple plump on his tongue, he moves to the other one, sucking until she squirms beneath him, whimpering in pleasure. Still completely clothed, he loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt, stripping until he’s naked from the waist up. Her fingers trail his abs, then down to the skin right above the hem of his pants. Once she unbuckles his belt, he slides out of his pants until he is clad only in his briefs, her focus on the obvious bulge protruding from his underwear. She undresses, keeping just her panties on. He leans over to kiss her passionately, letting his hands explore her body freely, cherishing every soft curve of her glorious figure.

He’s been dreaming about this. Ever since their first kiss, he’s thought about her every night. The way she tastes on his lips. How soft her skin is on his rough hands. He would fantasize about the different positions they would try, the sounds she would make if he ever got the chance to pleasure her. Every second they spend together, his feelings for her grow stronger and stronger. He’s never felt like this with anyone else. That’s why he doesn’t want to screw it up. He wants nothing more than to pleasure her, make her feel comfortable and safe with him.  

He breaks away to catch his breath. “Is this okay?”

She smiles, cupping his cheek. “Yes. This is more than okay.”

“We don’t have to go any further, we can stop here,” he suggests. He really doesn’t want to, but he will if she does. 

“Do you want to stop?” There’s a naughty look in her eyes, as if she’s teasing him.

“No.”

“Neither do I.”

Electricity surges through his body, ready to burst. His fingers reach for her panties, rubbing her clit through the cloth. “Can I touch you here?”

“Yes, Nanami. Fuck.”

His cock twitches at the sound of her cursing. This is one his fantasies, hearing filthy words come out her sweet, innocent mouth. He slips his middle finger past the fabric, sliding it up and down her wet folds, circling her clit, cock rigid underneath his briefs. Feeling her like this is better than he ever imagined. A dream come true.

“Show me. I want to see how big you are for me,” she purrs into his ear.

His eyes widen at her suggestion. Fuck. He won’t be able to last if she keeps saying things like this in her sexy voice. He shoves his briefs down his thighs, letting his hard cock flop against his abdomen. 

“Fuck, Nanami. You’re so big. Can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

Losing his composure, he mutters, “Fuck, baby. Are you sure this is okay?”

“Yes, sweetie.”

He lets out a huff. “Okay. I can’t believe we’re really doing this.” He reaches for his nightstand, grabbing a condom and lube from the drawer. When she sees him opening the packet, she grabs his wrist. “You don’t have to put that on. I’m on birth control, remember?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I want to feel you come inside me.”

“Fuck.” He pours lube onto his palm, stroking his erection. She watches hungrily as he positions himself at her wet slit, guiding it in smoothly, her pussy clenching him every inch he slides in. When he bottoms out, he stays still, waiting for her body to adjust to his size. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she breathes out.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He thrusts slowly, savoring how incredible she feels around him. It takes everything in his willpower not to come yet. She wraps her legs around his waist, arms linked behind his neck. That beautiful smile flashes across her face, making him tingly all over his body. He really likes her.

His pace picks up, drawing out small moans from her sweet lips. He’s close, but he wants to make her orgasm first. He reaches down to rub her puffy clit with his thumb, the sudden sensation causing her to buck up towards him. Her reaction encourages him to thrust into her faster, moving his thumb relentlessly over the sensitive spot. 

“Fuck, Nanami. I’m going to come,” she whimpers. 

“Come for me, princess. Come all over my cock.”

She tightens, her body squeezing him until she climaxes. After her high, she relaxes her grip on him, eyes glazed over, grinning. When he tries to pull out, she stops him. “Don’t. Keep going until you come. Please.”

It doesn’t take long; he thrusts into her a few more times until he releases inside her, filling her up. As he pulls out, cum drips out of her slit, an erotic sight he’ll never tire of seeing. He collapses beside her, steadying his breath. She turns to him, sliding her arm over his chest, nuzzling her face against his shoulder. Cuddling closer to her, he whispers, “Thank you.”

She laughs. “Thank you, too.” 

They stay like that for a few minutes, the silence comfortable, their bodies cozy snuggled together. Before they end up falling asleep, Nanami sits up and announces, “I’ll be back.” He disappears into the bathroom, rummaging his cupboard for the unscented baby wipes he bought a few days ago. When he returns, he crawls back in bed next to his girlfriend and takes out a few wipes. 

“Wow, you’re so prepared!” she exclaims, taking the wipes from him to clean herself. 

“I figured these would be good to have, just in case. If you want, we can take a shower together before we sleep. You can wear my clothes.” 

“I can’t sleep over. Ren is going to freak out if I don’t come home.”

Slightly disappointed, he responds, “Oh, okay.”

Sensing this, she kisses him on the cheek. “I promise. Next time, I will sleep over. Just gotta get Ren’s approval first.”

“You’re such a good sister,” he smirks.

“And when Ren moves into the dorms in a couple of weeks, we can do whatever we want, wherever we want.”

“I’d like that.”

After she’s cleaned up, she changes back into her clothes. Nanami puts on a new pair of clean briefs to walk her to the door. “Call me when you’re home, okay?”

“I will.”

They hug each other tightly before saying goodbye. Exhausted from his orgasm, Nanami goes straight to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for sleep. As he lies in bed, under the very blanket they just had sex on, he moves his head to the pillow. The one she was sprawled out on as he made her come. He takes a deep breath with his nose pressed against it, inhaling her sweet scent. He feels his arousal growing beneath his briefs, thinking about the way his cum trickled out of her. 

He smiles to himself, reaching down to stroke his hard cock, realizing he doesn’t have to go off fantasies anymore. 

Taglist: @chiyoso

[llyfrenfys]

Disabled trans author (me) in financial worry zone

Prynhawn da pawb

I'm making this post to keep you all updated with what is happening in my life and where I'm at currently. There's no need for panic just yet, but things are more tenuous than they were before and I hope by explaining what has happened I can keep you all in the loop regarding everything.

So, first things first - I was in A&E last month due to suffering a shock (which I would prefer not to talk about at this time). Suffice to say, this shock was so intense that it caused the knock-on effect of my body entering a state of ketoacidosis caused by involuntary starvation. You can read more about what happened to me in this reblog which I posted earlier.

The ordeal caused me to need to take anti-nausea medication for a while before I ate in order to be able to stomach anything. Thankfully I am able to eat normally again now.

However, I didn't have long to recover from this ordeal before some more bad news came my way. Due to a change in circumstances, I will need to move house at some point this year (ideally as soon as is humanly achievable, which could still be several months) into a smaller flat than the one I'm currently living in. House moves are costly and to make matters worse, more bad news this week.

It looks like I will become unemployed by the end of the month. I'm already looking for some more part-time work, with a few options lined up. But none are guaranteed unless I am successful as a candidate for these jobs.

Which means I'm going to be living on remaining student loan funds in order to pay rent (hence the need to move to a cheaper flat as soon as humanly possible - which could be several months from now. My remaining student loan is *only just* enough to be able to cover this. I'm hopeful I will be able to find part-time employment somewhere - however, the jobs I am applying for don't quite offer enough hours to fully pay for rent as it stands, therefore I'm going to be promoting my patreon for creator support purposes a bit more in order to help me get through this difficult time.

I already can't thank patrons enough for helping me afford a dental mouthguard earlier this year to protect my teeth from my bruxism. If anyone has anything to spare - even in the short term, this will go directly to keeping a roof over my head and food in my fridge. Once I'm able to move house, costs should come right down and hopefully things will be much smoother sailing. But until then, please share this post or donate to my patreon or tip me on tumblr if you are able.

Diolch yn fawr iawn i chi gyd

Luke

Photo of the beach at Aberystwyth I took yesterday for tax:

[ireadwithmyears]

even if it’s handcuffed, I’m leaving here with you.

Pairing: Commander Fox/fem Reader

Word count: 4.7K

Tags/warnings, smut (18+: (miners DNI) dumb decisions, they turn out alright, slight exhibitionism (they fuck in the back of 79’s and Fox enjoys the idea of being overheard), oral (F receiving), fingering, light bondage, spanking, but like only one, unprotected P in V sex, dom/sub elements, biting/marking (it’s Fox, what do you expect)

Summary: Fox hasn’t been giving you the attention you’ve been craving. The way in which you go about fixing that is highly questionable, but ultimately, a resounding success.

Note: yes, this was 100% inspired by a specific lyric in I’mgonnagetyoubac by Taylor Swift, referred to in the title. I heard it, went Fox bby c’mere I need to do something with this, and this is the end result, which I hope is enjoyable. Also, do these characters have communication issues that they probably should acknowledge and talk through? Probably. Are we not going to acknowledge any of that here for the sake of✨minimal plot✨ yes.

“This, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, is one of the stupidest ideas you’ve ever had.”

To be fair, your best friend is saying this all while she downs a shot, barely containing her smirk behind the glass. She’s already given her rather enthusiastic consent to this idea that she has just declared is stupid

Because that’s what best friends do. 

Look, you have to agree, the idea sounds completely outlandish and lacks any sound logic whatsoever, not to mention, there’s no guarantee that it’ll even work. But, lounging around a table at a bar on Coruscant’s Clubbing scene, and with your ride or die best friend perched across from you to egg on your delusions, it starts to sound not as crazy as it had initially sounded when you had first spoke the words aloud.

In theory, the idea is straightforward and simple enough. 

Start a fight at the clone bar while Fox is on duty so that you can actually get him alone for more than two minutes.

You’re aware, somewhere in the back of your mind, that these are rather drastic measures for you to take just to get your boyfriend to notice you. But, with your rationalizing, alcohol emboldening you, and your friends immediate agreement to help without hesitation, this idea starts to seem not only reasonable, but solid.

Listen, if you were able to be a normal, sensible couple, and you could just do something like, you know, talk to Fox, you would.

The problem is, though, that Fox has been making that very difficult.

Being the marshal commander of the Coruscant guard carries a lot of weight and responsibilities, you get that. You really, really do. But, when he rarely makes it home most nights because he’s fallen asleep at his desk from overworking himself, and you can count the amount of times he’s touched you over the past two weeks on one hand, you’re starting to go a little bit insane.

Okay, so, you’re horny and so desperate for his attention that you’re willing to do something completely unreasonable, not to mention a little bit illegal, to get it. So what.

*

The plan, for all of its complete lack of sense and sound judgment, goes a little too perfectly.

The guard often sends some of their own out on patrols during 79’s busiest nights to keep order and ensure that there are no inter-battalion style brawls. 

You have Fox’s schedule memorized. So, you wait until you know he’s set to make his rounds, pick a table that is clearly within his eyeline, and then, minutes after he shows up, give your friend the subtle signal.

It starts with raised voices, shouted accusations and glaring until you know you’ve peaked his interest. Even through the tint of his visor, you can practically feel his eyes on you from across the room. 

Once you’re sure his eyes are securely glued on you, you allow high school drama and improv skills to take over, letting the fight escalate into something physical.

It’s hard, knowing that your friend is about to take the brunt of this for you, and your equal parts appreciative, and a little bit terrified, that she’s letting you launch yourself at her. But, you think to console yourself, you had practised this. How to make it look convincing, just good enough that it draws the attention of the cori’s, while also inflicting minimal damage because due to the fact that you don’t want your friend to get in heat for this too, making yourself the clear instigator, she’s only dodging, refusing to hit back.

When the thud of boots and the crackle of voices through helmet speakers come, barking gruff orders to break it up, you’re more than a little relieved. 

Even with his bucket still on, it’s easy for you to identify that it’s him. Him who pulls you off of her, none too gently. Him, whose rough, gloved fingers enclose around your wrists, smoothly pinning them behind your back before you can even blink and fuck, why was that so hot? Him, who, for a brief moment, you feel the cold and unforgiving plastoid of his chest plate digging as he presses flush against you, voice a low, displeased rumble as he addresses you, voice too quiet for anyone else to hear.

“You know, princess,” he mutters darkly, giving your wrists a squeeze. “If you wanted tonight to end with me locking binders around those pretty wrists of yours, there was no need to go to all of this trouble.”

He knew. 

Somehow, he’s figured out exactly what you were doing within seconds and for some reason, this only intensifies the thrill that runs through your body and causes your thighs to clench.

You’re not given time to ruminate on this, though, barely catch the subtle wink that your friend gives you before another member of the guard blocks your view of her as he kneels down to check on her. Fox, reflexes lightning fast, spins you around and immediately begins to usher you towards the back of the establishment, giving the other guard member on duty, you think it might be Thorn, a curt nod to acknowledge that he can handle this on his own.

Your led away to the sounds of low whistles, and many identical sets of brown eyes peering at you interestedly as Fox’s brothers stare at you when you pass by their tables.

Your face, at this point, has the decency to flush with oncoming embarrassment as they watch Fox leading you away.

No time for regrets now, you think to yourself as Fox reaches around you, still keeping your wrists firmly in one hand as he unlocks the door to an out-of-the-way office, frequently used to detain clones who start fights in the bar.

For better or for worse , you have captured his full, undivided attention for the night. 

now, you think, it’s only a matter of what he’s going to do about it.

*

“You know,” he muses, arms expertly caging you in and crowding you against the office wall, “if you’re going to fake a fight to get my attention, you could at least have picked an accomplice who I haven’t already met, and who I am perfectly aware you are on good terms with.”

“How would you know?” You ask, still slightly breathless as his amber eyes catch yours in the dim light, levelling you with a look. “A lot could change in the two weeks that I’ve barely seen you.” 

“Is that what this is about?” He asks, voice low and somehow too smooth and even, tilting his head to the side. “That explains why she made the effort to do this.” 

He doesn’t back down, doesn’t even look away in any semblance of guilt, which is infuriating. You’re about to tell him so when you’re cut off abruptly, words dissolving into nothing but a short gasp as his head lowers, lips, followed by the sharp bite of his teeth along the much too exposed skin of one of your breasts.

You blink, looking down at yourself, startled. It appears that whilst your friend was engaged in skirmishing with you, she had managed to tactfully pull open a few buttons from your shirt, splitting it just so that one of your breasts is tantalizingly exposed, nipple barely covered by the remaining fabric.

It’s fabric that is quickly shoved to the side as Fox, eyes never leaving yours as he does, takes your nipple into his mouth, tongue rolling over the bud, encouraging it to harden between warm lips.

“It’s almost like this was... planned,” he muses, accentuating his words with a sharp pinch as he tweaks your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, smirking at the way you jolt with surprise. His breath ghosts along the column of your throat as he moves to whisper in your ear. “Wasn’t it, cyar’ika.”

You’re prevented from answering when his teeth nip at your earlobe, causing any words you had in your mind to fall away, giving way to a shiver as you arch into him. A thrill runs through your body, and a pleasant hum has replaced the void where your thoughts used to be. If you had the sense to be embarrassed about how easy it was for him to get you like this, you would be. But right now, pushed up against the wall with him looming over you, it takes all you have to reach for him, fingers trying to find perch’s between his armour plating.

“Fox,” you let out a whine, tilting your head up to look at him pleadingly as you press yourself against him.

“Uh uh,” he chides, quickly extricating your hands. “These stay here,” he orders, swiftly pinning your wrists above your head with one hand. “If you know what’s good for you,” he continues darkly.

“A and what if I don’t?” You try to challenge, but your voice comes out in more of a squeak, wobbling slightly, as his fingers trail down your sides, just teasing at the skin beneath your shirt.

He chuckles, the sound a husky, dangerous rumble in his throat. Abruptly, he drops to his knees in front of you, pulling both your skirt and panties down with him in one harsh tug. They pool around your feet on the floor.

“Oh, meshla,” he coos at you, voice dripping with mock sincerity as one gloved fingertip, tantalizingly featherlight, sweeps through your already wet folds, only grazing over your clit enough to make your hips stutter in surprise before he pulls away. 

“Trust me, by the time I’m done with you, you will.”

Your ability to form a quick witted retort to that is greatly impeded, and ultimately foiled, probably intentionally, by Fox lifting one of your legs, manoeuvring it so it drapes over the curve of one of those broad, imposing shoulders of his. 

Before you’re given time to react to this sudden shift of balance, he’s leaning forward, his impatience evident in the way he roughly holds your thighs apart as he does. Your clit is suckled into his mouth with an almost unadulterated greed as it’s pulled between his lips, tongue barely fluttering over it before your hips jolt, and the sound that manages to escape you, half in surprise, half a needy whine before you manage to check yourself, remembering where, exactly, he’s doing this to you, sounds just about as uncontrolled as his actions are.

He pulls back, only to give you a deceptively teasing smirk as he tugs off his gloves. “What’s the matter, cyar?” He almost purrs, a now gloveless finger slowly teasing at your entrance, eyes fixated on how you clench around nothing. “Got nothing to say now?” 

He evidently finds his ability to have you this riled up with only a few touches amusing, because he’s again leaning forward before you can respond. A series of gentle kitten licks targeted at your clit, as his finger slowly presses into your heat has you forgetting about that fact quickly, the only sound escaping your lips being that of a strangled gasp-moan.

With the way his lips quirk and he lets out a small hum of satisfaction, the vibrations of which run through your body like a shockwave that leaves you breathless, it’s evident that this is exactly the way he wants you, squirming and desperate.

“Fox, I, we can’t do this here ohh.”

You lose track of the point you were trying to make with the smallest movement of his finger, almost gentle as it curls inside you, just brushing over your G spot, causing you to start stammering.

“Mm, why’s that, princess?” He asks, pulling out his finger only so that he can insistently begin to open you up with a second. “I don’t really think you’re in the position to be making demands like that, hm?”

Teeth nipping at that sensitive spot high on your inner thigh silences your retort. “So pretty,” he breathes, almost to himself as his tongue lazily soothes over the mark he’s made, before he’s back on your clit, lips, tongue, and fingers that curl and press and thrust all working to bring you up and straight to the edge.

And take you to the edge, he does. Within minutes that feel like seconds, he has you arching your back, pushing your hips to meet the delicious, constant thrust of his fingers and the targeted, precise teasing of his tongue and lips against your already sensitive clit, breathless begging and pleading because you’re just, you need, you’re almost.

There’s an audible clap as you desperately press your hand against your mouth, trying to silence the high-pitched, feverish whimper that’s fighting to escape your lips because there, right there, rightfuckingthereyoujust...

Then he’s pulling away, releasing your clit with an obscene sounding wet pop as he rises to his feet, calm and totally unfazed in the face of your obvious frustrated desperation, hips still vainly moving in an attempt to find something that’s no longer there. He looks down at you, watching with evident amusement in his eyes as you lose the high that he’s given you, languidly taking the time to idly suck on his fingers, still slick with your arousal as he waits.

He’s patient, simply staring down at your quivering form as he holds you within his scrutiny, deliberately drawing out the silence until the tension has grown thick, and it starts to make you feel disquieted, nervous, almost like you’ve done something you shouldn’t have and you’re now waiting for him to pronounce your punishment.

Only then, only once he sees the realization dawn on your face and your eyes widen slightly does he reach out, lightly tracing one finger over the back of your hand.

Your hand that he told you to stay above your head on the wall. 

Your hand that is, right now, still pressed firmly against your half open mouth. 

“I thought I told you,” he muses casually, fingers delicately wrapping around your wrist and pulling it away from your lips, “to keep these where I put them.”

You swallow, but look up at him with a falsely innocent expression because fuck it, you’re already out of the frying pan, might as well just jump headfirst into the fire.

“Well, technically you told me to do that only if I knew what was good for me, so... guess I don’t,” you say with a shrug, flashing him a smirk.

“Hm,” he huffs, pondering as he continues to hold your wrist, giving it a squeeze in warning. “So it appears you don’t.”

Within seconds, he’s smoothly spun you around, and pulled both of your wrists behind your back, with a speed that’s so succinct that you don’t even comprehend what’s happening until the heavy, cold weight of the binders settles against your skin, locking your wrists in place with a smooth, resounding click.

Oh.

A hand on your back gently nudges you forward and without question, you begin to walk, only pausing when he’s directed you to stand in front of a desk, the height of which reaches just above your waist. He urges you down, hand pressing in between your shoulder blades until you’re bent over, skin flush against the cool wood. 

You jump when his voice appears, low and inches away from your ear as he leans over you, hands delicately scheming down your sides as he speaks.

“Oh, meshla, you misunderstand me,” he purrs, and he can’t resist gently nipping at your earlobe just to hear the small noise of surprise that escapes you and feel the way your body shivers beneath him. 

You hear him settle behind you, armoured knees hitting the ground with a dull thump as his hands, warm and rough, ease your thighs apart, holding them wide.

Fingers lazily circle you’re already swollen clit as he continues. “You can cum, pretty girl. In fact, I want you to cum, and I want everyone outside to be able to hear all those pretty sounds you make when you do it.”

Outside, a muffled round of drunken cheering from several of his vode seems to punctuate his demand, causing your heart to quicken, and before you’re given time to really think about it, he’s opening you further, diving back in with his lips and tongue as his hands continue to hold your thighs apart.

For a moment, it’s just hot, heavy breaths, warm air tickling and brushing against your incredibly sensitive clit, the barest sensation and the heat enough to pull a breathless “mmm” from your lips, hips desperately pushing back against his waiting mouth. 

You both know that you’re not going to last long, so Fox takes time to relish each moment he spends in between your thighs, every movement of his tongue and lips deliberate and controlled. The firm muscle of the flat of his tongue pressing against you is neither frantic nor fast, but it urges and demands with an almost maddening precision.  The slightest role of his tongue over the bud as his lips pull you into his mouth nearly does you in, turning small, gasping whimpers into “oh please I fuck I please,” without any regard to the level of your voice.

Fox hums a response, and after that, you’re done, tipped over the edge by just the slightest nudge as if you had been clinging to it by your fingertips, and were now free falling.

You only come back to yourself when you feel fingernails raking up your trembling thighs, and Fox’s low, husky voice as he stares up at you.

“Mm, good,” he murmurs, running a finger through your sensitive folds just to watch you tremor.

He rises to his feet, and you’re not sure what you’re expecting him to do, if anything. Your mind is so addled by your orgasm that it comes completely unanticipated. 

A quick, stinging swat lands against your ass, calloused fingers caressing over the skin as soon as it begins to heat beneath the palm of his hand. It makes you let out of rather undignified, surprised squeak, hands instinctively trying to move to cover yourself, but of course, they’re not going anywhere. The unforgiving metal of the binders cooley nipping at your skin as you strain being a good enough reminder of that. 

“But I think you can do better.”

There’s the familiar sound of his codpiece being unclipped, a small clang as it hits the floor and is kicked away without consequence. Fox lets out a low groan, the only evidence to suggest that he’s nearly as affected as you are as he pulls himself free of his blacks, taking his hard length into his hand.

Your head drops to the desk, which is met with an immediate tsk of disapproval, Fox threading his fingers through your hair as he tugs it back up, pulling just enough to ensure that the tingle is painful, a reprimand as sharp as his words.

“Keep your head up, princess,” he orders sternly. “I want everyone to hear the sounds you make when I fuck you.”

He glides his cock through your wet folds, pausing to tease a few circles around your clit with the head as he continues. “And I want everyone to know how good I make you cum.”

The head of his cock lightly slaps against your clit, punctuating his words and causing the already overly sensitive nerves to spark and tingle. The whine that leaves your parted lips is a needy, pitiful thing.

You hear his low, throaty chuckle as he backs off, nudging the glistening head of his cock between your parted lips, smoothly lining himself up at your entrance. With one drawn out, controlled roll of his hips, he’s sinking into you, hands coming to grasp your hips as your tight, warm heat clenches around him.

Once he’s fully seated himself, feeling your walls fluttering around him, he moves, adjusting his angle in several quick, sharp snaps of his hips as he gages your response. When he finds the angle that has you crying out the loudest, and he’s satisfied that his cock insistently nudges against your G spot with every thrust, he begins to move in earnest.

Fox sets an even, measured pace, pulling back only to thrust back in with more power and intensity behind the insistent movement of his hips, cock pressing against all of those spots that need to be touched, caressed, and stretched for him.

Only when it starts to build inside you, because really, after you’ve already came from the talents of his skilled tongue, it really doesn’t take much to bring you back up, only once you start moaning and writhing beneath him does the rhythm change, not stopping, but slowing considerably as his fingers grasp at your hips, pulling you against him and keeping you still despite your squirming and protests. 

You can feel his armour plates digging against your skin as he moves, the cold, unforgiving plastoid in combination with the hot slick of skin on skin as he firmly presses your hips against him is dizzying, and sends your head spinning with each gentle pulse of his throbbing cock.

He holds you there, keeping your ass pressed flush against his pelvis, only allowing small, controlled ruts of his hips that brush his cock against your walls, his form radiating patience and authority as he looms over you, watching as you mercilessly struggle for him to give you more than what he’s allowing.

Your hips try to push back, to do anything, but without being able to brace your hands, you’re not getting anywhere fast at all, and your struggle to gain any kind of leverage ends with you throwing your head back, letting out a high-pitched, frustrated whine as you look back at your tormentor, who watches with an almost impassive expression, eyes dark.

He sweeps your hair over your shoulder, littering a trail of hot kisses and sharp bites along the exposed column of your throat as he moves to your ear. 

“Got something to say, meshla?” He coos condescendingly, nuzzling his nose against your neck and letting out a warm breath that sends goosebumps down your spine.

Under the full weight of his attention, he manages to scatter the few strings of coherent words that your brain was trying to piece together into something useful. All you can do is moan helplessly, feebly pushing back against him in an attempt to get him to move in vain.

“Hm,” he muses, and you feel the brief scraping of teeth as he runs them along your shoulder. “Guess not. Maybe I’ll just stay here, until you can figure out how to use your pretty mouth to tell me what you want.”

You know what he wants, and it only takes one small, barely there nudge of his hips for it to come spilling out of you, with minimal protest or fight. 

“Please, sir, please,” you beg, both cheeks and eyes burning at how unsteady your voice sounds. “Please fuck me.”

“Ah,” he pretends to come to the understanding and that bastard, you don’t have to look at him to know that there’s a devilish smirk on his face as one of his hands leaves your hips, dipping to run along your inner thigh. 

“Understood,” he says, voice as short and crisp as if he’s just barking an order to one of his troopers. 

With that, he withdraws, unsheathing himself so slowly that every inch of him drags along your walls as he pulls out. Then, without warning, grasping your hip tightly, he slams back into you, pushing against your tightness and pulling you back onto him at the same time. His pace is now brisk, unyielding, and unwaveringly steady as he impales you on his cock, letting out low, breathy sounds, pausing to listen to the mules and moans that leave you in response.

As soon as he starts hitting someplace deep, quick and primal and constant, your back is arching, your ability to form any coherent words seemingly depleted. 

Or at least, that’s what you think, until his hand, that had up until this point been squeezing and massaging the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, moves in between your legs, fingers expertly catching on your clit, circling, pressing, and the occasional tap against the overly sensitive bud that has you gasping and jolting in place.

“Fox,” you whimper desperately, hips wriggling even though there’s nowhere to go. “Please.”

Whether you’re saying please to beg him to stop because you can’t, it’s too much, or you’re saying please because you want, you need him to never stop, to keep going because the attention he’s lavishing on your clit combined with the delicious way he’s filling and stretching you on his cock feels so wonderfully good is unclear.

The decision is quickly taken out of your hands when Fox, evidently seeing how close you are, abruptly adjusts his angle, redirecting his focus yet again to your G spot, hips rolling against you as he targets it with small, precise and shallow thrusts.

“Be a good girl,” he murmurs, hand releasing your hip to rake his fingernails down your spine. “Cum,” he orders, giving your clit another tap before he continues his tantalizing circles. “Cum for me.”

You throw your head back, spine contorting as you arch, only vaguely aware of the desk digging into your ribs as you cum, eyes squeezing shut and walls clamping down on him as some sound that you don’t even begin to hear nor control is ripped from your throat.

Only then does his pace falter and does he pull you back onto him to bury himself to the hilt within you, cold armour plating firmly pressing against your ass and your thighs, as he lets  out a long, low rumble as he stills within you, spilling his release within your warm, convulsing heat. 

You’re aware of your head falling against the desk, finally too exhausted to keep it up as your body trembles with aftershocks. You’re aware of his hand, soothing as it strokes through your hair. You’re aware of him slowly easing himself out, you think you might make a small sound at the loss, judging by his low chuckle, but you’re not sure.

You only really begin to engage with the world again when you feel the rush of liquid leaving your core, causing you to let out a small gasp. 

“Shh, little one, s’okay,” Fox murmurs, gathering the mix of his and your release that glistens on your folds with his fingers, slowly pushing it back inside, causing you to whimper. 

He guides your legs back into your panties and skirt with tender hands, pulling you to your feet and reaching around you to button up your top.

It’s only when he’s about to steer you out of the room that you realize. 

“Fox?” You say with a frown, raising a questioning eyebrow. “Aren’t you gonna, you know, undo the binders?”

He looks at you, hands occupied with snapping his codpiece back into place. 

“No,” he responds shortly. “You still instigated a fight. I at least have to play off the charade that I’m taking you back to HQ.”

He sets his helmet back on his head, and even though you can no longer see his face, you know that there’s amusement in his eyes, because even though this was your plan, he still has the last laugh. 

“This is still a punishment, and considering I’m letting you off the hook in terms of having to pay a fine, it’s a rather generous alternative, don’t you think, Meshla?” He reminds you lowly, voice clear even through his helmet modulator. “Get moving,” he orders, nudging you forward impatiently.

your mouth drops open as the noise from outside slowly filters into your ears.

He’s about to make you walk through the bar.

Your wrist still in binders as he escorts you out.

Past many of his vode.

With his cum still leaking out of you and the fresh bite marks that he scattered across your neck and shoulders like ornaments.

They’ll take one look at you, and even if they hadn’t managed to hear some of what was going on, which, judging by the dryness in your throat, would be a complete miracle of the force, they’ll know exactly what you did with the Marshall commander whom they all serve under and fuck, the burning twinge of humiliation should not effortlessly combine with some sort of excitement, but it does.

Your cheeks flush, and it takes all of your willpower to start shuffling your feet forward. 

Well played, Commander. Well played indeed. 

[socheckitout-mikey]

heya lovelies, these weren't requested, i'm just on a huge tlb kick atm and wanted to share some love for david! please enjoy and let me know what you think! - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Gif Credit: @bonniebirddoesgifs

Disclaimer: THERE ARE 18+ PARTS IN THIS PIECE SO MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI!!!! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!!!!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

TLB Dating David Hc's:

° Rest assured that dating David means that the journey will never be boring. You're guaranteed for the adventure of a lifetime (or multiple depending on how you look at it). The party never ends until the first rays of the dawn find their way into the cracks of the caved-in hotel he and the boys reside in (almost dare I say) religiously. He bids himself farewell in your sleepy haze, departing on an sudden icy wind that leaves you sitting up rigid with shock. Only to find that you are utterly alone, save for the seagulls shrieking up above and the lulling waves lapping against sea foam cliffs.

° But as soon as dusk settles upon the sunshine resort of Santa Carla, you'll find David having appeared by your side with the same kind of magic of Christ's Resurrection. Sure, you may ask him how he has done such a thing, but it's seldom that you'll get a straightforward answer that doesn't sound as though it's dripping with a whole new meaning of "Oh, I'm going to fuck with you for sure".

(I mean, you asked for it!)

"Oh, that old trick? It's called climbing flights of stairs." David quips, cocking his eyebrow as he lights up a smoke.

"You asshole, I know how to use the stairs- but I swear you-" you are cut off effortlessly by his charming, gritty laugh and the full intensity of his icy blue gaze, which renders you utterly powerless.

"Then why ask the obvious, kitten? I think someone needs to get their brain CAT scanned. Are you sure you don't have some form of early onset dementia?"

° David is a mysterious fella indeed. He doesn't let much ruffle his feathers unless given a valid reason. He's enigmatic with his charm, drawing in droves of curious people, but not many of them live to see the light of day ever again. A peculiarity you were awfully aware of at the beginning of it all.

° He felt someone's persistent eyes upon him, and out of curiosity, he looked up to find you. Now, love at first sight doesn't suit David, but he couldn't deny it: He at least felt something when he stared back at you. Enough to worm his way into your life with wild simpers and an abundance of flirtations. He uprooted your nightly schedule with a promise of escape and eternal youth.

° David's snarky cynicism can often be the cause of a hurt heart,- as he's learned very well throughout his very long life so far-. This is why it's a blessing that you're able to roll with the punches and even fend yourself against him with a playful attitude. He's very much amused when those kitty-claws come out and rake down his chest. He likes to have fun with you, and enjoys it even more when you're having fun with yourself. He'll let you off the hook... for the most part. But it is pretty difficult to actually insult him.

"Oh, isn't that just endearing? You're pawing me to death." David simpers with boredom through a thick jet of dragons' breath, before leaning forward so his elbows rest on his knees. "Tell me something, when are those kitty claws actually coming out? I'm feeling a bit kinky tonight."

° Truthfully you never really will get to the end of his teasing tongue (in more than one way). David is mischievous, and is charismatic in the way he pushes those around him. You are no different, but with thick skin and a sharp tongue that mirrors his own, he cannot help but reward you. He enjoys keeping you on the very edge just for the sake of being a menace, which is more for his own entertainment than yours.

"Are we frustrated, kitten? Who would've thought you'd break so easily from a few touches and a few words..." he breathes in mock disappointment before an impish grin etches itself onto his features. In velvety tones he divulges, "Well, it's a good thing I'm good at piecing back together broken things. I think I might just rearrange you a bit first. Got any protests?"

"Fuck you!" You grit out.

"I'll start with that mouth first," he flashes a sultry grin before looming over you entirely.

° As much as you love this suave bastard, and he too loves you; it has become apparent that such a declaration verbally isn't really needed. Where David is good with his charming words, he feels that his actions also lend a "helping hand" when it comes to luring you into the fold as his partner. David lays claim over you more subtly than some of his other brothers, but said actions speak so loud that even outsiders can hear them as if they were screamed out at them.

° One thing is for certain; David isn't privy to the idea of sharing you with anyone. He is entirely selfish, wanting every part of you (warts and all) to himself. Does he admit this outwardly outside of yourself? No. But he does make it known.

° He has profound issues with jealousy, but unlike Paul and Marko, he's much like Dwayne: Settling scores when your back is turned. If someone is dumb enough to attempt flirting with you or trying to pick you up, David deals with them in fatal arrangements planned precisely in his head. You may notice the disappearances, or you may not. But either way, he's not letting up much.

"Who was that again? I haven't heard of them." He says in a nonchalant tone, but his eyes are biting, warning you to leave it be.

After all, he does this for a very good reason. It doesn't pertain to issues with his confidence. No, he's got buckets full of that. It's just the darkest parts of him have fully invited you in. There's no going back to a "normal life" when a vampire has fallen in love with you. His intent is to turn you- to be with you for eternity. It's just that simple.

° At the end of the night, the many trials and tribulations the pair of you have faced have made you stronger as a couple. From your fragile mortality being altered to the many hurdles you faced with fighting the hunters after The Boys - saving them. David does not know how to properly express his truest feelings through the process of words that aren't bitter or playful. So forgive him for the lack of them, but he also knows your true feelings too: He'd just rather them be shown or acted out.

° There is nothing better than whizzing chaotically through the impressive beams underneath The Boardwalk. To get lost in the night with such a thrill that makes your stomach lurch. Yet with each inhibition David pulls out of you only to guide you to throw into the wind, he's allured you further into damnation. You seem to mind such a thing much less now.

° There is a gentleness to the beast that skulks proudly under those garish lights of the Boardwalk. It is reserved solely for you. It does not disappoint as it protects you with vigilance and ensures your needs are met. Just do not thank the beast too profoundly, because it might just get you teased!

° A sucker for your touch, it's no wonder that David has you proudly lounging on his lap in public or in the cave. Sends out a very notifiable signal of, "Back off, she's mine!"

° However, what about the times when you manage to steal him away to far more intimate places, where it's just the two of you? Your bed, although a foreign concept to this roguish fiend who slept under bridges as a mortal, cannot deny deep down the feathery down tempts him. You lay there with him, either lazily making out or talking about many different topics of interest as the TV in the far corner croons on the summer breeze. You have all of his attention, none of his fellow brothers to chime in some hilarious one-liners to add to the chaos. It's just peace.

David cannot help but sigh blissfully, working his lips against your own. Lost at sea. He doesn't want to be found.

° Spontaneous dates of parking your butts on top of an old building or into the corner of an abandoned graveyard whilst you dig into a bottle of wine you stole from your parent's cellar has to be some of David's most favorite low-key dates.

"Look at Miss Goody-Goody stealing for little old me," he grins, admiring the good year on this particular wine bottle. It's a steal he will ensure is worthwhile. "Did you know that stealing is a sin, kitten?" He coos mockingly.

"So is stealing my soul, but you don't hear me complaining." You snicker, stealing the bottle from him. You uncork it and take a swig.

"Touche, kitten, touche." He grins as you hand him the bottle. "Now, you're not planning on curing me, now are you? I'm not a fan of Holy Water."

"If there was a cure for stupid then I'm sure you would be cured by now." You chuckle. "Besides, why would I waste Holy Water on you? You're past the point of saving."

"That I am, but I have to say... I'm going to make you regret everything else you said," he says testily.

"Oh, bite me, Dracula!" You stick your tongue at him.

You really shouldn't tempt him like that.

° Arguments between the pair of you make the air thick with hostility. Though thankfully they don't happen as easily outside of the cases of some broken trust, which isn't very easy to patch together. Like in other areas of his life, David is just as dominant when it comes to arguments. Your feisty attitude you spit back at him is like cobra venom doesn't help. It's cruel and harsh, leaving both hearts wounded and stubbornly locked away in some indestructible castle up a steep mountainside.

° Depending on the burns and wounds left behind, it may take several days for either of you to even look at each other. Avoiding is easier until one of you grows lonely. It takes further time to reconcile, but once it has been initiated, the hatchet is buried (for the most part).

° Don't plan on holding out for the word "sorry" from David. It seems to have escaped his vocabulary almost entirely. It's reserved for extreme circumstances, and even then he may hint at it, but not actually say it. You just need to get used to that. David will show his remorse in many other ways such as private moments stolen away with you where he seemingly allows you to lay in his arms (but he secretly initiated). He will adorn you with thoughtful gifts, words that are sweet by his standards and when he thinks you have fallen asleep, he may let his guard down enough to say, "I'm sorry,".

Just do not hold it over his head!

° You make one another feel on top of the planet. Heads dizzy with a fatal charm that cannot be hidden even to the outside world. David is charismatic and flirtatious as he sweeps you off your feet under the dark silhouette of his damned soul. Yet you are his salvation to the ride down to those fiery pits of damnation! You make him feel alive again, your fresh immortality irresistible as he goes through the new motions with you. Re-experiencing the rush of your first feed, your first flight and even your first kill for the hell of it.

° The pair of you will only get more twisted and wild as the eons drift on by.

° Where once he believed that being tied down to someone would hinder his nightly life that he was more than pleased about, David has come to realise something else: Having someone to share this lifestyle with who gets him even better than his brothers - someone that he can form a genuine romantic attachment to - is far better than the immortal bachelor lifestyle. You have proved yourself useful to him and he can never reward you enough for it.

° It's a good thing that he'll just show you.

° Your connection with David is profound and unmoving as it licks at haunches of dauntless stakes to be dodged - or in the case of David, antlers -. He would have no one else but you swoop in and save him from eternal loneliness as you embark on revenge against The Emerson's until you squash them one by one. What's more poetic than that?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

please like, reblog and follow for more!

requests: open!

[jos-reblog-emporium]

Hi, I was wondering if you could make me a omo schedule that will make me wet myself guaranteed. I have never fully lost control but I would love to.

Ik youre a switch so maybe just share something that made you lose control.

Thank you and love your content btw

Aww that’s so sweet! I’m glad you love the content. I'm really glad to hear that.

I personally don't let myself get to the point where I fully loose control. I'd rather not deal with the clean up if I can avoid it. (I think if I played with a partner and didn't have to think about clean up, I'd loose control and make a mess).

As for a schedule, 😈 this'll be fun.

Here are the rules:

You are only allowed to pee at the appointed time.

You are only allowed to pee for 60 seconds.

If you miss your time slot, then you have to wait until the next one.

Every time you are to drink, the minimum amount is 16oz or 500ml.

Leaking is not permitted, but if you do, you have to do 15 squats

Start at the beginning of your day. Have your normal morning pee. After, you have to drink some water. Every 15 minutes for the next 5 hours, go and empty your bladder. Then, drink the minimum amount of water (listed in the rules).

After 5 hours, which is basically prep time, you are not allowed to relieve yourself for 3.5 hours. Mark what time that is. It should be pretty difficult to make it because your body is used to relieving itself more frequently. In the interum, you have to drink the minimum amout of water/beverage 3 times. NO LEAKING!!!!!!

After 3.5 hours, your are allowed to pee. But, you only have 60 seconds to relieve yourself. However much pee is left must be held until the next time you're allowed to pee. Drink double the minimum amount of water. If you leak when trying to stop peeing, drink another 8oz.

Now, you have to wait 6 hours before you can pee again. Drink double the minnimum. And NO LEAKING!!!!! If you somehow manage to make it another 6 hours, congrats. You now need to contract and release your pelvic floor muscles. No more pee breaks after this.

Drink the minimum and wait until you feel full. You need to feel full as possible for as long as possible. Contract and release your pelvic floor muscles again. Continue doing so repeatedly for as long as yoiu can. Hopefully, this will make it increasingly harder for you to keep all that pee in you. Again, NO LEAKING!!!!! The hold only ends when you completely loose control.

For example, you finish prep at 11am. You just finished your last pee and drank 16oz of water. You now have to hold until 2:30pm. Drink drink a total of 48oz of water in that time. Then you have 60 seconds to relieve yourself. Now wait until 8:30pm. Drink 32oz during the 6 hours of holding. If you make it, no more peeing.

Admittedly, this is less of a true "schedule" than what I've seen or done myself. I dont know what the best way to do an actual schedule might be since I don't know what time zone you're in.

Let me know how it goes!!!!

*Sorry for the delayed response.

[atthebell]

how to clip (redneck ash atthebell edition aka not the most efficient necessarily)

my best methods for clipping & posting to tumblr

tl;dr use clipr for downloading clips from twitch, other methods vary by mileage

Clip on Twitch & Download using Clipr

IMO, this is the best method for posting clips. Twitch clips don't always display properly on Firefox, and it also means that if the clip ceases to exist on Twitch for whatever reason, it's still uploaded to Tumblr. You can also guarantee the quality you're downloading in, which is usually 1080p unless the streamer has for some reason lowered their stream quality (happens by accident sometimes).

Downsides: 1) You have to be able to download the clip to your computer, and doesn't work on mobile. Well, it could, but it would be way more difficult and I don't know why you would do that to yourself. 2) If the moment you want to clip is longer than 60 seconds, you have to use another method. Twitch only lets you clip something that long. I bemoan this fact every day.

Screen capture on your computer

The pros of this method are that you aren't limited to 60 seconds, and if you're trying to clip something from a YouTube video, it's easier than trying to download a YouTube clip (have never been able to successfully do this myself) or downloading the entire video and then editing it down to the moment you want to clip.

The cons are that you have to make sure you're not screen capturing sensitive shit from your own computer, and you have to turn off all other audio and make sure your volume levels & video quality are at appropriate levels (aka don't have your volume super low, don't have the video on 480p if possible). If you're clipping off YouTube, you have to deal with having the channel's watermark in the corner, but otherwise it's great for when you want to just clip something from Twitch but it's longer than 60 seconds.

How to do this (on Windows):

Remember to put your computer on DND (Discord as well) and put the video on highest quality and decent volume levels. Press Windows key + G (if that's your configuration) and select "Start Recording" on the capture window. Remember to give time for the scrub bar and shit from YouTube or Twitch (or whatever) to go away, so go back a little bit before where you want the clip to start. Record until you've got what you want, then open it in whatever video editing software pleases you. You can find the recording in Captures on your computer (usually in some folder chain in Users) or by just pressing Windows key + G again, it'll let you open the recording in file location. I use Microsoft Clipchamp to edit because Windows Media Player crashes my computer and I'm not going to pay for nice editing software rn. Anyway, edit out the bits with you moving your mouse around and the video player UI and get it to whatever length you like. Save or redownload to your computer, upload to Tumblr.

Downloading off Twitter

Use twittervideodownloader or twdown. Copy the video address from the video and paste it, then download in whatever quality you'd like. Please attribute said clips, particularly if they went through the trouble of adding subtitles or you're using their translation (or just to let people know where they came from-- i.e. is this from a cc's own IG story, or is it a random fan recording them; the latter means you maybe shouldn't be reposting this video). Translation itself is often a thankless project so it's very appreciated to acknowledge translators. Also if someone else went through the trouble of clipping something, it's just nice to acknowledge them for it. Preferably include a link to the original tweet. This method is best for just needing stuff off Twitter, for IG stories that someone else already screen captured, or if the only clip you can find is on Twitter and the original vod/video is gone for whatever reason.

Extra fun tips:

If you are a frequent clipper, get in the habit of naming your files! If you're keeping them all on your computer, for organization's sake, it will save you SO much time and energy if you just have names on your files. It doesn't have to be anything crazy formal; for example, my format is just "oct 12 cellbit scared by sign tts;" date followed by a very short description.

Similar to the above, it also helps to include some amount of context to clips when you're posting them, particularly if you're not liveblogging. Sometimes people rb clips onto my dash and start freaking out about some kind of lore going on and it's like dude this clip is from two months ago, calm down. Please turn on timestamps also for the love of fuck.

You can download videos straight off Tumblr! If someone else already posted a clip you like and want to have on your computer, you can download it off the dash or off their blog and just have it, no extension or screen capture or website needed. One of the very cool things about this website!

Related, if you really want to find a clip that you know was already posted to Tumblr by someone else, use people's archives. They're also one of the actually functional parts of this website. You can filter by post type, month, and tags, which can usually get you closer to finding what you're looking for than searching will.

RoyalArchivist tends to post and reblog a lot of clips, so they're a good resource alongside myself, pix pixiecaps, and jay cellgatinbo, all of whom clip like maniacs. I also just reblog a lot of things and have a pretty extensive tagging system. RA also has a timestamp archive for QSMP with notes about lore and things-- please check that out if you're interested in helping document events or looking to find a certain moment.

MCYT Archive Project has public vods spreadsheets for QSMP as well as other MCYT projects that are incredibly extensive, so if you're looking for a moment and you remember the date, you should be able to find the vod on the sheet. You can also use the vod archives in junction with wiki articles to figure out exactly or approximately when something happened (the QSMP Miraheze wiki includes citations in their articles, which is a massive help for this kind of thing).

Finally, I am a lunatic who figured this all out through trial and error. There are probably other, somewhat more efficient methods, like I said at the start. If you know of any, please (politely) add onto the post.

[calxprince]

❀ LOVE, OR THE LACK THEREOF ( 1 )

. . . a kabru x gender neutral reader story

# Chapter 1 ; 5 Years is Barely Enough Time for Someone to Move On, Right?

# genre : multiple parts. breakup angst. reader can't move on for the life of them.

# warnings : hurt no comfort in the first chapter

# spoiler warnings : none

# notes : purely an intro to the story. reader yammering about their life after the breakup. author is tired of the lack of kabru fanfiction and is tired of depending on cai

click here for the masterlist

1080 words

. . . in which relationships are prohibited within the party.

What a stupid rule. Or at least, you used to think it was. Until you fell in love, then fell out of it after.

Okay, you didn't actually fall out of it. But you did end up breaking up.

But hey, 5 years isn't that long right? It's not too late to start moving on?

Fuck. You really wished you followed that rule. All you can do now is regret all of your actions 5 years ago, when you were dating him.

RELATIONSHIPS WITHIN PARTIES WERE STRICTLY PROHIBITED.

You only started to understand why it was a rule, a golden standard across all parties.

It is fairly understandable that to have good chemistry with your party, you need to have close bonds with each of your members. You need to establish a strong relationship with your peers, to use all of your different abilities in perfect harmony.

However, indulging yourself in the greed of breaking through the barrier or being— just friends is a high risk. It could either make or break your party's chemistry. With intertwined heartstrings, that push and pull is always guaranteed to break those ties.

You groan at your stupidity, as you struggle to keep yourself afloat as a solo adventurer. Gold became scarce as you could barely afford your necessities, while the dungeon became harder and harder to explore— making treasures difficult to score. Lower levels were always a no-go, as you risk dying and being victim to a resurrection scam— draining you of all of your (miniscule) savings.

You used to be a party leader, determined to lead your beloved team to victory. However, strangers turn into friends— friends into close friends, and suddenly... Lovers. Life back then was simple, laughing at the stupidity of the rule ' no dating within the party! '. I mean, what's so wrong about being happy?

Your power, and his expertise with the blade— back to back, you two were unstoppable.

But could it have lasted forever? You ask yourself over and over— to the point of days becoming weeks, becoming months.

It's all become a blur.

Wake up. Enter the Dungeon. Explore the Dungeon. Go Home. Sleep. Repeat.

It's been 5 years since you broke up with Kabru. Actually— 5 years since you've seen his face. However, it doesn't change a thing. You have had his face memorized in the back of your mind since the day you both met; each angle and curvature of his jaw, the exact hue and saturation of his eyes, each curl in the sea of his dark hair.

You could never forget the way his eyes would soften as he looked at you, his lips curling into a gentle smile. He made you feel warm, like— a bowl of hot soup that your mom made you on a rainy day kind of warm. The way he never fails to be impressed by you, no matter how many times he'd seen your magic.

Sometimes, he'd try to get a little scratch during battle just so he could get healed by you again.

So what if the other members were fatally bleeding and were on the verge of death? He has a 'potentially life-threatening paper cut' and is in need of assistance.

Does it hurt more to remember, than to forget?

... You're not sure.

Remembering only brings fear—the fear of being forever perceived as the person you used to be, and will never be remembered as the person you are now. Change is inevitable, but you never really know if it it changes for the better or the worse.

You've been avoiding ever exploring more than half of the village ever since that day.

He's made his imprint in your mind, where that one bakeshop was not just any normal bakeshop— it was the one he'd eagerly line up at each morning, just so he could bring you your favorite treat.

God, you can't even stand the smell of it in the air anymore.

You couldn't get yourself to go to that one tavern, since it wasn't just any normal tavern anymore— it was his favorite tavern. The one tavern that he introduced you to, where they sold the best quality of your favorite drink.

He had hunted down every saloon and tavern in the village, just to pin one down because he knew you would love it.

And he loved it because you loved it.

It was also the place where you got absolutely wasted. Where you accidentally gave him the sloppiest, most passionate liquor-flavored kiss ever.

Where you couldn't stop the drunken slur of words that poured out of your mouth like a waterfall of alcohol, accidentally telling him you loved him.

It's a never-ending spiral of having to give up your favorite things, mostly because the reason why they were your favorite— was because of him. Because he had taken the time to get to know you, and noted down every single thing about you in every nook and cranny of his mind— your favorite scent, the shampoo you use, the distinct hop in your step.

That man knew you inside and out as if he had just completely dissected you in his mind. His beautiful mind. The mind that knew the second your mood shifted, the one that always takes note of your subtle hints.

And without him, everything seemed tasteless. Like your favorite freshly baked bread in the morning— it suddenly felt like eating clay that you had just dug up from the side of a creek. Like a bland porridge that was bordering a lukewarm temperature.

You sit there, pondering what could've been.

What would life be like if he never left?

Would he still be lying beneath your covers, his face buried in the crook of your neck while whispering promises?

Would he be sitting on your couch, folding your shared laundry— while you cook yourselves a shared dinner?

Would he be begging you to use your magic on him again? Would you be there healing his wounds after a long day, while he begs for another kiss?

Would he be there to kiss your lips again— holding you like a glass rose that could shatter beneath his fingertips?

...

You still love him.

You can't deny it.

However, 5 years is enough for him to hire a new mage.

5 years would've been enough for him to move on to bigger things— bigger ambitions.

bigger dreams than the ones he had with you.

You needed longer than 5 years. Maybe one day you'd be able to meet him eye to eye, without the dread and the fear.

But today was not that day.

But today was the day god decided to test you. (as if he hasn't put you through enough, dragging you from hell and back.)

He decided to test your patience, your resilience, and all of the above.

I mean, who else wouldn't freak out after seeing your ex and your ex-party members lying dead on the ground?

... Especially when they're all weirdly lined up on the concrete floor of the dungeon.

[dnalt-d2]

(Please note: I am only going to speak about things that are verifiable, either by Lea, who we know for a fact at this point was an admin, or by our own observations, like hearing what's happening on certain streams, or other verifiable announcements. I don't want to talk too much on things outside of that because it could technically be speculation, and I don't want to mislead anyone. I will do my best to state what is and isn't speculation in order to keep confusion to a minimum. I'm also going to remain as impartial as possible, and only provide facts as they've been presented to us. This is basically just meant to be to organize some of the things going on into one post so that people who aren't on Twitter can get a good idea of what's going on instead of just hearing it from people who keep vaguely doom-posting)

So as has been the case for the last couple weeks, the Admin Situation continues to unfold. In a manner of speaking, at least

Since Quackity made his initial statements, we haven't gotten any sort of concrete news from him, or even an acknowledgement that things are still developing. Like I've said in my previous post, I haven't been expecting any concrete updates, since that sort of thing would most likely be sensitive information that he legally can't share. However, I do find it disheartening that he has continued moving forward without so much as acknowledging the situation

I do understand that a lot of current plans have been in the works for a while now, and couldn't be pushed back that far without detrimentally affecting other people, including the new streamers who likely carved out large chunks of their schedule out specifically for QSMP. So keeping the server closed for too long could have easily had negative effects on many people, including the Admins. But I want to say that I just don't know everything going on behind the scenes, and this isn't fact. It's just what I understand to be happening

And while we still haven't gotten any official statements regarding the Admins since Quackity's statement, things have still been happening, most of which we are probably never going to hear about. Some of which though, we are hearing, and it's not sounding that great, unfortunately

Do keep in mind however, that the following is just what we're hearing about, and because of the NDAs in place, we likely CAN'T hear about anything else, including any potential positive changes that might be taking place. We still aren't going to hear about any changes until they're concrete. This has only been taking place for a couple of weeks, and none of the changes can be made immediately. With that in mind, here's some of the verifiable information that has been making the rounds recently

As I've stated before, the French Union has gotten involved, and by this point, has stated that the Admins CAN potentially pursue legal action if they so choose. However, I want to emphasize that this doesn't mean legal action is guaranteed. This just means they have the OPTION to do so. Which by the sounds of things, it doesn't seem like anyone wants to do that as of right now. This is essentially just one more thing to give leverage to the Admins, letting them and Quackity know that they have that right. But if things can improve, they don't need to take them

(Link to their English post here)

As of now, one of the higher-ups in Quackity Studios, Jose, has been tweeting out that he is speaking with other Admins/Ex-Admins about everything going on, and gathering testimony in a document to present to Quackity. Last we heard, he was still gathering testimony and speaking to lawyers to ensure that everything he was doing was legal. And that as of now, organizing a meeting with Quackity himself has been a little difficult, I believe for scheduling reasons, as well as the fact that he's still gathering information (I was actually hoping to wait until this document was out to make another post about all this, but people keep acting like things are only going downhill, and I wanted to go ahead and give my two cents)

(Links to his posts can be found here and here)

We have also heard about 2 Admins quitting in the last couple days. Pancks, who was the roleplayer behind Agent 18 and Xaninho the Capybara, as well as other Portuguese-speaking NPCs. He has not given a clear reason for quitting aside from the fact that he feels he is done with this chapter of his career and wants to do other things. He has also asked us not to speculate his reason for leaving, which I am going to respect

(Link to his post here)

The other Admin who quit is a writer named Ana, who put out a statement saying that she was removed from most of her roles without being given a clear reason, while other writers still retain theirs. She states that her main reason for leaving is the lack of communication since things have gone down, which is not a great sign

(Link to her post here and her document here)

Lastly, we know that merch is currently being announced. So far we have 4 standees of the Eggs, Dapper, Trump, Leo(?), and Pomme, and will probably get more in the next few days. I want to point out that it's incredibly unlikely for this to have ONLY been started for the current situation. I'm personally assuming it was originally meant to be for the 1-Year Anniversary of QSMP starting, but has been pushed forward slightly to help raise funds for everything going on. Organizing merch production usually takes a while, which is the only reason I'm assuming that this isn't just coming out of nowhere

To wrap up, things haven't resolved yet. And that makes sense

Reorganizing an entire business takes time, even for people who are experienced in that sort of thing. But from what I understand, Quackity is not, and that's likely what led to this situation in the first place. Anyone trying something this big is bound to mess up, and unfortunately, this just happens to be a VERY big mess-up. Not too big to fix, but big enough to be difficult. And while we are hearing about some negative things happening, I want to remind everyone ONCE AGAIN, that we will not know anything until it's concrete, good or bad. The people speaking up don't seem to be doing so with any ill will, and many of them still seem to see QSMP as a positive experience overall. Just one that needs to be improved upon for the better of everyone involved. Right now, I'd say the main problem is, once again, communication. It's unfortunate that people keep bringing up how they haven't heard about anything going on, and that is very understandable. It's hard being kept in the dark on something like this, especially for people who were actually personally involved prior to this

The Admins/Ex-Admins have every right to be impatient on this because they're the ones being impacted the most. Because they've likely been patient for far longer than we have, and know a lot more about what's happening. That's why Lea has been doing her best to be vocal and support the current Admins and pressure Quackity Studios, even with the harassment she's apparently getting for doing so

But for us, who are simply viewers, just doom-posting and assuming the worst won't help. (AND NEITHER WILL HARASSING PEOPLE) Yes, we should be vocal in our support for the people affected, but there will be a point where shouting into the void is gonna be more detrimental than helpful. I believe that by now, we've gotten our point across. That Quackity and Quackity Studios know that we don't want to support a project that has to take advantage of people to keep it running. I'm not saying to let everything go completely. I would personally advise that people who want to should stay as educated as possible, and help educate anyone who wants to know what's going on

But if this is still affecting your mental and emotional well-being, stepping back and waiting to see what happens is probably the best move you can make. Spreading outright negativity won't help you, and it won't help the other people involved. I know that sometimes not knowing things can cause a lot of anxiety. Heck, that's why I make these posts, so I can help other people know what's going on. But other times, it can be entirely counterproductive. It's why I try not to doom-scroll through most social media in general, because I know that sometimes knowing more just means having more to worry about. It's up to you guys to find the balance that helps you, and I hope you all take care of yourselves in spite of everything going on

[starfall-spirit]

Read on Ao3 // Fic Masterlist // SJM Omegaverse Masterlist // Dark Feysand Masterlist

Summary: If there was one thing Rhys was well aware of, it was that his life expectancy as a kingpin was a short one. Unless he wanted his uncle seizing power the moment he bled out, he was in need of an heir. An Alpha heir at that.

The only way he could guarantee such a thing was by breeding an omega, a designation nearly extinct in the world they lived in. Regardless, he would acquire one—no matter how unconventional his means may be.

OR;

The Mafia Omega Auction Fic

CW: Dark!Rhys, mafia AU, very much in the “omegas are property” type of omegaverse here. Non-con in future chapters.

Chapter II

Feyre

“I’m not sharing a room with you. You can forget that now.” The room was lovely of course. The whole villa was. Built for luxury, the two story home was all open space and clean lines, one room flowing smoothly into the next while the dark color scheme of blue and black dominated most of the property. At least the first floor, which was the only one she’d had the time to see before her captor’s tour led them to his bedroom.

“Omega.” 

That single word was an order in itself and she almost caved to it. Probably would have if she wasn’t so angry at his presumptuous attitude. “I’m already your prisoner. I won’t be your toy too. And I don’t care how much money and power and influence you may have in this city. I am not a thing to own and order about like one of your goons.”

Sighing, Rhys took her by the hips and forced her backwards until her legs hit the end of the bed and she lost her balance. Though her skimpy auction dress had been replaced with jeans and a loose top before they’d deplaned, Feyre still felt entirely exposed to him when he leaned over her, fists braced on either side of her head, the width of his hips forcing her legs wide. 

He was so damn big. Some tiny, yet not-insignificant part of her wanted to roll over and obey every word that rolled off his tongue—fall into the trap her mother had tried to push her into when Feyre first presented as a pre-teen, mere months after her sister had been sold off to some wealthy alpha looking for a sweet little broodmare.

But surely in this day and age, omegas could find more than a life of servitude, couldn’t they? She felt horrid even thinking it, but she was stronger than Elain in some ways. She could fight that instinct to bend to an alpha if she really wanted to. Keep her autonomy. There had to be a limit to an alpha’s dominance, surely.

“You will have a role here, Feyre. I doubt you’ll enjoy it at first, but you’ll cooperate.”

“Fat chance.” She made a swing at him, but he caught her by the wrist before she could actually land a blow, pinning both hands over her head with humbling ease. “Get your hands off of me!”

One sharp growl and she was baring her neck to him, crushing any hopes of fighting her instincts as an omega. “You’re going to listen to what I have to say, little girl. Or you’re going to end up with a very sore bottom. Is that clear?” She swallowed, hating how the command bled into her, setting her shivering beneath him. She was in no position to ask him to purr for her after being so difficult, not that she wanted to turn to him for comfort in the long run.

“What is my—my role,” she choked out, ignoring that base urge to lick up the column of his throat when he leaned in closer. He was a monster, she loathed the man. But he was also devastatingly handsome, and after so long hiding away from alphas… it was just her body’s natural response. It said nothing about her as a person—or her mental stability. “Why did you bid for me?” 

It was likely just a matter of the rarity of omegas. Having two in her family was unheard of; their family tree suggested it was a genetic “blessing”, but it hardly seemed to matter now. She just hoped this was about more than a rich guy wanting a trophy wife. She wanted to be worth more than that, even in this cruel world where it was so unlikely.

Rolling off of her, Rhys arranged her so she was straddling his lap, gently bending her arms so he could both cage her torso with his arms and keep her wrists clasped in his hand. “I won’t try to hit you again,” she mumbled. She had to put space between them before she did something stupid on impulse alone.

“Forgive me for doubting your honesty, darling.” The half-smile her comment earned slipped from his face. “As I said, this arrangement is purely for my benefit, but I expect you to cooperate. If you can’t manage that then there will be consequences.”

“Like a spanking?” she grumbled.

“Perhaps. The severity will suit the infraction, that I promise.” She wasn’t sure how honest he was being then, but she didn’t dare say as much. “All that said, it’s up to you just how unpleasant this has to be. I’d love nothing more than to spoil you rotten, but I won’t tolerate you fighting me constantly.”

“I can fight you sometimes, then?” She clamped her mouth shut immediately, flinching away as much as his hold would allow.

He chuckled. “Bratty little thing. I’ll let you decide the risk and reward in that.” Again, his humor slipped away all to quickly. “In my line of work there are many risks, and precautions I have to take. Contingency plans, if you will.

“There are more people than I care to admit who want me dead, Feyre. The next in line to take my place is an unfavorable option.” The pieces were coming together. She knew why she was here, and yet she still prayed he wouldn’t say it. She was barely nineteen. “You’re going to give me an heir, Feyre. Several if I have it my way.” And he would have it his way, she knew. Alphas always did. “Your next heat will be induced, unless your cycle is approaching in the next few weeks.”

Cold dread rushed through her at that. “You can’t force a heat.”

“I assure you, little one, a single injection and you’ll be begging for my knot within a few hours. When was your last heat, Feyre? And do not try to lie to me.”

She swallowed. “June.”

“You have a year between them?” She nodded. “Once you’re settled I’ll call for the doctor. Start making your nest, pet.”

“And if I don’t?”

Clearly unimpressed with her pointless argument, he leaned in, the tip of his nose dragging across the tender skin beneath her jaw. “If you don’t nest, Omega, you’ll be feeling even more vulnerable and stressed all through your heat. I’m going to fuck you whether you make a nest or not. I already told you I want to make this easier for you. Stubbornness isn’t going to save you this time.” ~~~~~  Feyre made a half-hearted nest on the floor that night, though her captor had certainly done his best to coax her into the massive bed. If there was one good trait Rhys had it was basic respect for the creation and occupancy of a nest. Feyre might not be acting out at the moment, but she didn’t trust him. And until he gained her trust—which was never going to happen—he wasn’t getting anywhere near her nest.

With the fluffy blankets and body pillow beneath her she was perfectly comfortable on the floor, not to mention exhausted from jetlag. But she still found sleep impossible to reach. The heavy sigh from the bed an hour after the lights were turned out told her all of her tossing and turning was keeping Rhys up too.

“Feyre, come here.” She laid still, hoping he’d roll over and forget about her. No such luck, as a moment later two strong arms were hooked under her knees and back. She squeaked, but didn’t struggle.

Not when he was already purring for her. It immediately soothed her anxious energy.”New places are hard to sleep in, aren’t they, sweet girl? We’ll get you adjusted.” Against her better judgment, she melted into his chest, groaning softly when his fingers carded through her hair. “That’s it, darling. So sweet for your Alpha.”

“Alpha,” she murmured, nuzzling in just above his collar bone and letting his addictive scent wash over her. “Smell good.”

“So damn sweet,” he muttered again. “Eyes closed, sweetheart. Sleep now.”

“Purr?”

“Of course, darling. Sweet dreams.”

Taglist: @littlest-w01f // @whatishowedyouinthedark // @ninthcircleofprythian // @sajirah // @acourtofladydeath // @lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone // @rosanna-writer // @toporecall //@popjunkie42-blog

[patchwork-crow-writes]

Hi!! Second question here!!

I see you talking about Kralsei a lot and I honestly LOVE reading about it!! I'm really curious to know what you think about their symbolisms of light and dark, and how this would reflect on their characters and relationship in the game itself!

...oh boy, do I have Thoughts about this topic. I could talk about this for DAYS, but I shall refrain and just offer you some of my most recent musings on the subject.

So yeah, I'm pretty much in the same camp as you when it comes to looking at Kris and Ralsei as representing their respective worlds - obviously Kris is our protagonist and the character we literally control, and they're a lightner, so they represent the light world, while Ralsei is the first (actually second because of Lancer) darkner we meet and get to know, and he calls himself the prince of the dark, so naturally he stands in for the dark world. The two characters have some kind of connection that hasn't really been explored too deeply in-canon, and there's all the talk about the balance between light and dark and how disaster will befall the world if the two were to fall out of alignment, and it does make you wonder what role exactly they will play in redressing that balance... but more on that later.

What complicates this view is the fact that there's three entities you have to consider: Kris, Ralsei, and Us. And then you have to ask a new question, which is that if Kris represents light and Ralsei represents dark, then what exactly are we supposed to represent? Are we the force that works to keep them in harmony? Or could we be the wedge that drives them apart, by forcing them to interact in ways that neither of them really want to? Obviously our involvement is non-negotiable at this stage, as there wouldn't be much of a game if we weren't present to exert our influence upon Kris, and by extension Ralsei. But it is possible that, in our eagerness to force them together/apart, depending on your viewpoint, we could perhaps be sowing the seeds for disaster further down the line.

Another thing I think about with regards to Kris and Ralsei, both in terms of their developing relationship and the debate surrounding them, is how important communication - or rather miscommunication - is when discussing them. In-game time, these characters met yesterday, so they don't really know each other all that well. Kris isn't exactly able to represent themself properly due to our influence, but even putting that to one side their proclivity for pranks might make it difficult for Ralsei (who we must remember doesn't really understand the concept of sarcasm) to properly understand them on the rare occasions they are permitted to speak. And for his part Ralsei is a textbook people-pleaser who seems to default to whatever he thinks would make Kris and/or the player happy over his own preferences, and we also know he has a bad habit of not telling people things he doesn't think they need to know, perhaps until it's too late. Put the two of them in a room together and there's a good chance that neither of them will have a clearer understanding of who the other actually is, but rather hold false representations of each other that all but guarantees further misunderstandings down the line.

And if these two characters WERE to end up in a relationship of some kind, whatever form that might end up taking, those misunderstadings could end up causing the very thing they were trying to avoid in the first place... but I shall park that thought there for right now :P

Meanwhile, there's also the point that WE do not really know Kris or Ralsei that well, or their respective opinions on each other. We have clues, of course, such as the teas and the ways these characters behave around each other, but there is the danger of extrapolating from these meager pieces of information, such as when people thought Ralsei might be "evil", or that Kris despises him because his tea doesn't heal for 120HP while Susie's does. And that can lead to assertions such as "Ralsei is essentially identical to Asriel so shipping him with Kris is essentially incest", which... I don't have enough time in the day to go over what is wrong with that right now, but trust me that is coming down the pipeline.

The crux of what I'm trying to say about all this is: we just don't know enough about the situation right now. We can't read Kris's or Ralsei's mind, and what scraps of knowledge we can glean from their conversations and narrative details isn't enough to base any sort of decisive statement on how their relationship might develop in the future. All we can say for sure is that something connects Kris and Ralsei, the game is pushing them together in these situations for some narrative or thematic purpose, and thus wants to say something about the nature of RPG romance, destiny, love, identity, agency, et cetera, through them.

But yeah... I've kind of rambled for like two hours at this point, so I think that's a good place to stop. Thank you for the second ask! :D

[odetodilfs]

Hey could you do a fan fic where how Din Dijarin like goes on a mission kind of between the events of The boob of boba fett where he gave away Grougu “baby yoda” and goes on a bounty hunting mission but gets a unexpected partner on the way and Din doesn’t trust him at first but then starts like trusting him more and then kinda start having feeling you could make it fluff or smut it doesn’t matter as long the story is good. this could have potential to be more then 1 part but it depends on how you do it please and thank you

Two guys in a spaceship

Hey anon!! I loved writing this it was so damn cute!! I decided to make it pure fluff and a very soft Din at the end.

Pairing: Din Djarin x male!reader Warnings: Din being the quiet lil guy he is, kissing.

Din had been assigned a new bounty hunting mission in which they told him to expect a new partner, not that it was guaranteed, they had told him it was likely to happen. Din hated that, he wasn’t much of a talkative guy, and being in a spaceship with just one other person just wasn’t his kind of thing. He wouldn’t have minded if he was with 5 other people because that meant those 5 people would talk to each other and not him, but when it was just one other person, avoiding a conversation became difficult. It didn’t help that he had had to give away Grogu, so he was very depressed.

That was why they decided to send you, it was clear Din was extremely upset and low energy every day since he lost Grogu so they assigned you, in hopes to lift his spirits. You had the same orders to not take your helmet off in public, so neither of you knew what you looked like. You decided to greet Din, and leave a good first impression. He was sitting, just finishing the controls of the spaceship, “Hey… Din Djarin, right?” you asked,

“Yes,” he replied bluntly, damn, that hurt“I’m (your name), pleasure!!” you said cheerfully, you knew that beneath every grumpy man was a soft, caring man, and you were going to prove that, “Nice,” he just said, “Do you need help?” you asked, “No, just go, please” he said, and so you left, you wanted to make friends with him, not make him think you were a creep.

Several days went like this until you felt some noises coming from somewhere on the ship, you walked until you say Din curled up in a ball, he looked like he was crying, you knew the reason why; Grogu, but when you went to approach him he looked at you, he didn’t have his helmet on, both of you froze, “Oh- shit- I-” he said, fumbling his helmet back on, getting up, “Din, wait” you stopped him, you took off your helmet too, “Now we know who we are” you smiled at him, Din just nodded and left. You were standing there thinking, Din was extremely hot, his brown eyes, his mustache, his full looking lips, goddamn, he was a sight to behold.

This led you to be more flirty around him, but Din noticed that pushing you away was getting harder, he actually started liking your company and engaged in a couple medium length conversations with you, he was a pretty nice guy, he even opened up about dealing with Grogu’s loss, you told him to keep being strong, you both still had not taken off each other’s helmets ever since that time. Lucky for Din, as by now, he was blushing like crazy under that helmet, he couldn’t deny it anymore, he was starting to have feelings for you… 

One night, you were sitting, looking at the endless void that was space, you had not been as flirty with Din over the past few days, but now you were gonna drop and absolute bomb on the man; comment on his looks under the helmet, “You know, you should take off that helmet when we’re here, I love having something pretty to look at” you smirked at him, 

“Shut up, I���m not pretty” he said as he chuckled slightly, he had started to joke around with you, “Oh, yes you are, take off the helmet” you ordered softly, jokingly even, he looked at you for a second, then he took it off, those beautiful brown eyes looking at you again, his face flushed, you took it off, revealing a similar tone of scarlet blush, you looked at each other, “Din, you’re not pretty, you’re fucking gorgeous” you said as you leaned in, he let himself lean forward. You closed the gap between you as you kissed him, both of you humming into each other’s mouths, releasing the tension that had built up over the week you were together, you pulled apart to look at each other, both of you smiled, Din’s smile turned into a frown of thoughts. “Din?” you asked him, holding his shoulder, “We can do this again, right?” he asked, 

“Of course we can, as many times as you want,” you explained to him, 

“But, can we, can we stay together?” he asked timidly, “you’ve treated me better in one week than anyone’s treated me in my whole life” he confessed, sobbing a bit “Shhh, it’s fine, do you mean you want to… be more than just friends?” you asked, hoping for the answer you’d wanted, “If you want to” he smiled, “We can try, I wasn’t expecting to get a pretty boyfriend during a bounty hunt, but it’s killing 2 birds with one stone” you joked, he laughed as he leaned onto you, falling into your arms as you kissed his forehead, the dark void and stars shining behind you.

[sweetdreamsbuck]

take my hand

beefy lumberjack!bucky x f!reader (lumby and bunny au)

wc: 2.2k

prompt: can't skate, gonna need someone to hold my hand

warnings: too much fluff. bucky is sickeningly in love

for col's Winter Wonderland writing challenge and sleepover! this is the first writing challenge I've ever done– seems fitting it's for you! thank you for inspiring me, always. <3 @foreverindreamlandd

a/n: this is a difficult time of year. sending all my love and super self-indulgent thoughts hehe.

happy holidays, my loves❄️🧸☃️🤎

𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤.

“Y’almost got the hang of it!” You most certainly do not.

Bucky tries to tug you along the ice, his hand secure in your double-gloved one– per his insistence on keeping you extra warm– but it’s no use. The ground stutters laughably beneath each attempt of sliding your feet.

Bucky’s never seen anything so adorable before; you’re awful.

Of course, to make matters worse, they’re all gifted on ice– Maria drifts by with a graceful spin, a howling Scott and Natasha racing just behind.

“C’mon Bunny, just slide your feet in time with mine. Small strides, like this,” he demonstrates the movement away from you in hopes your body will be able to mimic the action.

It won’t. You can’t.

“Can’t you just carry me? This holding my hand thing isn’t working,” you whine. Bucky laughs ignoring your groans, grabbing your face and kissing the corner of your mouth until you smile.

“Nope! I need to see you twirlin’ around first and then,” his thumb brushes over your bottom lip longingly, “we’ll talk. But I gotta go get the living room ready, stay out here with Maria, yeah?” He smiles at you– like he’s never witnessed something more worthy of his worship– with the radiance of every last ray of sun, warm and at rest in his stare.

And after the incredible day you’ve all had, this was the last thing on his list before the sun disappeared for the evening. This morning, he’d bundled you in too many cable-knit layers (and then an additional one just to be safe), an oversized coat, and thick garments for your neck, hands, and feet. But watching you bounce on the ice again and again… he wishes he added a few more.

Bucky had everything planned down to the very second; from the beginning dimmings of the sky’s glow so the fairy lights hanging from the cabin into the trees would shine just right, to the dough being rolled out, cut into intricate shapes to be placed in the oven with ample amount of cooling time– can’t have the icing melt off the tops, Bunny. Needs to be perfect for you.

Steve and Natasha had spent over an hour untwining the offending garland and string lights that Sam had managed to knot together, while you and Torres got a head start at throwing plastic balls and pine cones up the side of the smallest of the giant pines encompassing the cabin.

The last tray of cookies had been placed in the oven while the canola oil was set out for the potato mixture, waiting to be fried in Bucky’s special pan– his ma’s old one she only used this time of year.

The success of today was important to him for more reasons than one. He finally has something strong, something certain, worth making memories with– ones that will last him a lifetime and replace all the pain that's led him to now. Bucky only wants to share everything he is with you.

Including the small frozen pond; which Scott, Steve, and Sam tested their weight on, year after year, hopeful they’d bring a little cheer back into Bucky’s life.

Upon his request, of course, you’ll stay out here. Bucky wasn’t asking– he had everything meticulously pinned like points on a map. You know better than to derail any of his plans. So your brilliant grin and sweet hum against the warmth of his cheek is enough to guarantee he’ll be okay leaving you with his friends for a bit.

With a feigned mutter of disapproval, a 'you carry me everywhere, but now it’s an issue?' and an accompanying pucker of your lips, Bucky reluctantly watches as Maria hauls you away, taking over as skating instructor. He shimmies his skates off before shoving his boots back on, joining Steve to get his cabin all set for watching your favorite holiday movie.

****

Bucky can’t help himself, the window is right near the couch he’s meant to be fixing the blankets on. He spent weeks planning this. Hours getting all the lights outlining his cabin just right, dangling them from branches and trunks alike. He needed this to be pristine, for you. Pausing to look out was too tempting, a perfect distraction directly in his line of sight at the mess of people dancing around the ice. Specifically, on you. His Bunny, right at home with his family.

And oh– how you shine. You're impossible to miss, the center of it all, always. To Bucky, anyway.

Bucky blinks with a particular tunnel vision these days, a fixation on the most beautiful thing that’s ever stumbled into his life. The window’s fogged and he’s thankful, for once, that he forgot to clean it better; a frost-tinted circle illuminating your ambrosial luster.

And while quickly moving to place an additional few logs on the fire, he can't fight the urge to get back outside to you. You love curling up against his chest right in front of the flames, warm cream colored blankets and sweet kisses shared until Bucky's reeling, flushed scarlet and suffocating for more.

“What’s on your mind, Buck?” Steve wonders.

They wordlessly walk out of the cabin and down the porch steps, transfixed with the painting of Joaquin and Sam twisting you unwillingly around the ice.

Steve clears his throat.

But Bucky’s somewhere else entirely, your squeals of frightened joy are running circles between his ears, rendering him breathless in a moment he never wants to leave. From the moment just a half hour ago you spoke so softly, "Need you to hold my hand Lumby, what if I suck? Never done this before", to now– he watches on with an ardent tenderness bleeding from his eyes in the shape of you. Sam pushes at your hips from behind, directing your laughing frame wobbling straight into a panicked Torres.

Bucky’s so tragically in love with you.

“Her.”

Your skate catches the bottom of Sam’s too-long jeans, sending you both toppling to the ground in a heap of broad shoulders and heavy limbs– courtesy of a painfully groaning Joaquin and cackling Sam. Steve smiles, observing Bucky take in the picture before him, a low chuckle rumbling within his knowing chest: there’s nothing like watching your best pal falling more and more, so deeply in love, Steve thinks. He nods.

“Mine too.”

“And what’s my girl doin’ in your thoughts?” Bucky smirks, eyes grudgingly leaving your triumphant pose on top of your conquered pile of a bickering Sam and Joaquin. When he meets Steve’s eyes, he finds a noble grin.

“I’m thankin’ her. Never seen you like this, so…” Steve gestures to him, a grand wave of his arms Bucky feels deep in his chest, “So happy. Bucky, she’s–”

“Bucky! Bucky, help me!” They both whip their heads at the excited sound, the two men once face-first on the ice and under your victorious smirk now standing tall on their blades with you lifted high above their heads. Maria and Natasha jump up from their bench to rush to your rescue, hurling insults in between fits of laughter at the two idiots passing you round and round in swooping circles.

Steve looks to his friend, and in Bucky's contentment he sees it– adoration and fondness and relief vibrating warmly.

Bucky melts– his bunny and his best friends. And they adore his girl almost as much as he does. He couldn’t feel more alive.

“Torres! Wilson! Put my girl down, I swear if I find even a scratch on her–”

“You have her in like nine layers. Think she’ll be fine, if she doesn’t pass out from heat exhaustion first…” Sam mumbles securing his arms tightly around your middle, dodging the raucous taunts of the two women before placing you on shaky legs.

You stay standing for a solid three seconds, the air returning to your overexerted lungs. One slide of your foot, then the other. Just like Bucky showed you, left, right, le– your body meets ice.

Shrill mirth fills the woods at, yet again, another fumble of your own two legs. With an enamored chuckle, Bucky moves swiftly, hoping to get to you before another fall occurs. He’s never seen a person fall so much in his damn life.

“So. I’m terrible at this,” the dejected huff swirls past you both in a frozen gust of air. Your body shivers in a tired sulk, working hard to remember what it feels like to be standing. Bucky bends down and aids you out of your skates, shouting for Scott to toss him your boots. Right foot then left, and he secures the thick socks he made you wear over the tops of the laces.

Bucky looks up at you, a satisfied sound whispered into the frigid evening. There’s a playful pity swimming within his features. But his eyes always betray him, completely overflowing with his adoration for you. It nearly knocks you off of your feet, dizzy and back spinning ‘round icy ground. The entrance to the fence that encases the pond snags on your puffy parka and Bucky grabs at your wrists, sliding his thumbs gently down to the thick fabric concealing those precious lifelines of yours. He brings the tops of them to his mouth with a gentle hum.

Nothing feels more secure than falling into the safety Bucky’s presence brings. He stands, plump lips never leaving your knuckles for a second.

As if the evening was expecting you both, frost-bitten air and the last swirls of daylight envelop you in a greeting of serenity. The lights still glimmer and your friends still laugh and yell, but the evening permits you to forget all of that for a moment.

Looking into Bucky’s eyes feels a lot like home.

And the stunning blues have no intention of leaving your sweet face, sulking up at him with the echoes of crystalized wonder and the twinkling from up above dusting along your features– how could he even feel an ounce of sympathy toward you? Not when your pout entices him like nothing else on this goddamned green earth ever could. Nothing could hold a candle to it.

“Wouldn’t say that Bun,” he decides with a solemn shake of his head, squeezing your fingers within his hold, “You’re not terrible. Just not ready… for public viewing, is all.” A short nod and a hopeful smile search to brighten the affected expression on your face. But it isn’t until he leans down with his nose nudging yours, a teasing pout of his lips on your cold skin, an arm sliding behind your hip urging you closer with a sigh against your cheek that you feel it.

He’d do anything to keep you happy.

It’s evident in the glistening snow nestled within the thick sea of evergreen, its sparkling hue all around you– in the sloppily decorated tree just a few feet shy of the pond– in the group of friends he gathered together just to remind you how loved you are, even during the most difficult season of the year. Bucky’d spend hours milling through his ma’s old recipes to find the perfect cookies and those latkes he remembers enjoying years ago. He’d even go as far as tell a little lie no one could possibly ever believe, that you weren’t in fact hazardous on skates, even if it is just the two of you that hear it. He’d bear long hours in the harsh winds of winter for something other than labor, for a gathering of family his girl knows love him to no end, just to see her showered with the same sentiment– to see that smile.

Nothing about loving you is akin to labor.

But then your lips curl, a small giggle bubbling past your once frustrated pout until the sweet sound blooms, swells, stealing the rhythm straight from his chest. And Bucky’s heart soars, from the very depths of his rib cage to the confines of your wool-clad hands, all from just the blinding smile you have only for him.

Candle: lit.

Your hands reach for his cheeks just as they flush crimson, a startling contrast to the scenery surrounding you. Bucky nearly evaporates, right there.

His pulse is thunderous, urging him to delight in nothing but your joy enduringly. Bucky can’t control it, it croons I love you, I love you, I love you.

You’re breathtaking.

He’d never tell his friends he planned today just for you, of how he stocked his kitchen with baking supplies and festive decor just to watch the happiness sparkling, so alive in your eyes.

Bucky’s anything but subtle. His heart beats only with the air of your affections– his friends know.

“C’mon sweet girl,” Bucky’s nose smushes against your hairline, his kiss warming your chilled forehead. “We’ve got cookies to decorate. Can’t let Sam find ‘em or they’ll be gone before we know it.”

At the sight of Bucky’s reverent lips descending the span of your face, Steve turns to head back to the cabin. With a heavy smack of his arm around Sam’s shoulders and a smile spread proudly across both of their faces, they let their friend take all the time he needs. Natasha’s grin twitches softly, watching Bucky sing of his love for you with every glide of his lips against your skin, with every breath that fills his lungs.

Bucky continues on, reaching and pulling for every little laugh you’ll give him, sparing no expense for the feelings of his friends: "Maria’s terrible on ice, did’ya even see her out there? Nearly knocked poor Torres on his ass.” No, that was you, actually. And you did. “Scott took all the marshmallows, can’t let him find out about our secret stash, kay?” He keeps them in an old tea container, they taste of bergamot. “Stevie thinks he’ll make a better gingerbread house than us, you believe that punk?” He only said that to get Bucky riled up.

Sam hears it– they all do. You hardly attempt to quiet your delight whenever Bucky gets you snuggled close, wrapped entirely bare in his need to be your everything.

A hurried kiss teases his stubble, then graces his lips, and your arm entangles itself around his own until the tips of fingers interlock in a charm of whispered giggles. And while walking the length of the winter wonderland he’s created for you, hyper and giddy and so full of emotion, your heart thanks him.

They all hear Bucky prod, the cheap digs and the silly goading; not a single one of them has the means to chide– they know. Their friend has finally found peace, tightly woven within the grasp of a warm woolen hand.

[shywhumpauthor]

Employee of the Month

Not sure what this is or what the point of it is. Just take the whump. No editing because no

Cw: torture, murder, graphic depictions of death/killing, interrogation, restraints, a lot of violence, mentioned non-con nudity (non-sexual), implied mass murder/killing, reluctant Whumper

Henchman reeled back as a fist slammed into the side of their jaw, snapping their head to the side and causing them to sway in their restraints.

By now, they had lost any hope of standing, left to hang by the thick metal shackles around their wrists that held their arms up, the cuffs biting into their skin hard enough to leave ugly bruised indents that wept droplets of crimson down their forearms.

They could barely keep their legs beneath them, much less try to bare weight on them. From the awkwardness of the height they were restrained at, they would only be able to stand really if they stood on the tips of their toes, which left them scuffling around, the muscles up their calves cramping as they tried to keep from rocking back and forth.

Blood dripped from a wound on their temple, leaking into their sight and tinting their vision with a stinging red that they quickly tried to blink away. Tears clung thick to their eyelashes and their cheeks, mingling with the blood smeared across their face from their broken nose and turning it to a watery pink that ran down to their neck and chest.

Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult as they let their head fall forwards, hoping that the motion would deter some of the blood from trickling down the back of their throat and suffocating them. Their lips were parted, each breath coming in as a wheeze. It felt like their lungs were full of something, thicker than water and warmer than it should feel. Each inhale was work, the breath scraping against their windpipe all the way to their lungs.

Breathing out was a bit easier, with each exhale a bit of red tinted saliva dribbled from their lips, the bottom which was split so badly by the right corner that they couldn’t close their mouth fully. It had been ripped open by their own teeth, a result of one of the first punches thrown against them, whatever plating beneath the Hero’s gloves turning what would be a bruise into a mauling of blood and fractured bones.

“Tell me,” Hero growled out, grabbing Henchman’s jaw with the same hand that had just struck them, wrenching their head towards them. Henchman could feel their heavy breath against their face, they hadn’t been pulling any punches. Somewhere distant in Henchman’s mind, they envied how Hero could draw in so much air with such ease, so little effort, while they were left to gasp and try to get the oxygen they so desperately needed around what felt like their collapsing windpipe.

Henchman had broken ribs before—it was almost guaranteed in their field, after all. It sucked, which was an understatement. It was miserable, but bearable.

This, this was beginning to border on unbearable. The pain was worse than anything they had ever felt, sharp piercings of pain drilling through their chest and spreading out through their torso. The pressure was awful, building and building against their lungs until everything lapsed into a blur of pain.

“Tell me what villain is planning.” Hero repeated, their voice sharper as their nails dug into Henchman’s face, scraping the skin when they ripped their hand away in frustration when they received no answer, letting Henchman’s head fall again before quickly slamming a knee into their gut.

“I don’t care how long it takes, this will go on until you fucking talk.”

And it went. On and on, but Henchman had already lost all track of time—consciousness was only a muddled depth of agony and exhaustion. It was a miracle, or a curse, that they hadn’t passed out, but through the haze Henchman was able to piece together enough thought to maybe come up with some sort of explanation. They hadn’t really noticed it, lost between the burn of the stun gun Hero had used and the sting of the fresh lashes across their back, but at some point they were sure they had been drugged. A small prick along the side of their neck, followed by a rush of awareness that hadn’t lasted long.

It was hours. Felt like days. There wasn’t a patch of skin anywhere on their body that wasn’t marred by some bruise or cut. At some point, Hero had tapped out, but they had been quickly replaced by some lower grade Agency member.

That was some sort of relief. While Hero’s aggression had been fueled by genuine hatred towards Villain and anyone associated with them such as Henchman was, Associate had no connection with them. Really, they seemed almost reluctant to take part. There was no emotion behind their actions, and every so often they would even pause for a moment to take a break, but some part of Henchman wished to think they were doing it to allow Henchman a moment to rest.

At one point, even, someone had lifted their head up, though Henchman wasn’t sure who. Their eyes had been so swollen with bruises, vision impaired with tears and blood, they couldn’t see much of anything. The touch hadn’t been rough, dare they say gentle even, carefully parting their lips to trickle a bit of water from a bottle down their throat.

“…Hero, we need to stop, they can’t-”

“I don’t care. You are not stopping until they talk.”

“But- Hero, I don’t think they’d be able to speak now anymore-”

“Keep. Going. That is an order, Associate.”

And so it kept. A bucket of cold water dumped over their body, exposed as all their clothes had been cut to shreds on the floor, showing where there was still space to inflict more pain. They weren’t cold for long, as Associate began to hold a lighter to the existing gashes.

…

“Hero, I don’t know what to do anymore. They’re not going to talk. They can’t. You need to cut them down, let them rest a bit-”

“You are in no position to be telling me what to do,” Hero snapped. “Get the hell back in there before you tor their fucking pl-”

The door flew inwards with a sharp kick, bouncing off the wall of the little conference room outside the interrogation chamber. A loud bang split the air, quickly followed by another, and both Hero and Associate were dead before their bodies fell, brain matter splattering across the one-way glass behind them that viewed in on the interrogation chamber.

Villain stepped forwards, a flicker of rage cutting across their indifferent composure as they saw past the gore.

They had a limited number of bullets, but to hell with that, they pulled back the hammer and shot at Hero again, the bullet splitting open their skull and ripping their jaw from them as it passed through the crown of their head.

And damn, if Villain didn’t have Henchman as a priority, they would have shot the bastard again. They would have used all their damn bullets, and then they’d rip Hero’s gun from its holster and shoot until they weren’t even recognizable as human.

They did not deserve the mercy of a quick death that Villain had given them, but it was too late to change that. Villain would come back, they settled, after Henchman was home and healing, and kill every damned person who had ever touched Henchman.

Villain shoved their gun into its holster, quickly stepping over the carnage to the door.

The closer they got to Henchman, the hotter their blood boiled.

They’d kill everyone in the whole fucking agency.

—————————————————

I still only want to hurt Noah. Like seriously, that’s the only thing I want to write rn. Ugh

[wolftheawoo]

NSFW FANFIC - DDDNE

Reverse Fall(s) - Twisted Realities

CHAPTER I - Introduction

Tags: #DDDNE #Dead Dove: Do Not Eat #Rape/Non-con #Underage Rape #Underage Drinking, Smoking, Kissing #Anal Sex #Piss #Vomiting #Object Insertion #Gore #Visceral #Violence #Reverse Falls #Ford is sadic as fuck here #Dipper and Mabel are very very bad #Bill is a spectator and voyeur #Incest #This is the first chapter, nothing happen sorry

Summary:

Bill Cipher, the most chaotic triangular demon in the universe, is about to discover that not all cosmic power is hole-proof. Stumbling into a dimensional rift, he plummets straight into the universe of Reverse Falls, where everything is twisted, sinister, and a little more broken than he remembered. Instead of looking for a way back, Bill decides to do what he does best: turn this chaos into his personal playground. With constant misfortune and characters darker than ever, he plunges headlong into a universe where nothing makes sense, but everything is potential for fun. For Bill Cipher, the more wrong the situation, the better. And in the end, he may even discover that the chaos of Reverse Falls is where he really belongs.

Chaos, acid humor and a lot of misfortune guaranteed. After all, for Bill, hell is an amusement park.

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(⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

Bill looked down at his hands, and the static in their cracks produced a horrible sound. “We'll meet again”, and the tremor returned even more strongly. A laugh escaped him when, once again, “don't know where, don't know when”... ah, yes, Ford. He didn't know where or when, but Bill was sure that they would meet again. Maybe not on a sunny day, but they would meet, no matter what he had to do. Rehabilitation had made him, he told himself, more stable. A protective order had been placed on the Pines, and Bill couldn't get closer than 30 meters to them, which, under the circumstances, wouldn't be difficult. Ford and Stan had gone on adventures together at sea while Dipper and Mabel, now teenagers, went to college. The Cabin of Mystery was doing well under the stewardship of Soos and Melody, who carried a small beaver baby in her arms. There wasn't much left for the one-eyed triangle, who stood around the cabin, watching it from afar, wondering how he could get his revenge. In other realities, he had observed, his other selves didn't even have to lift a single finger to get rid of the Pines who, on their own, did them the favor of putting themselves in risky situations and dying in them. The zombies, who devoured them, shoving their cadaverous hands into their little bodies, pulling out their innards... the gnomes, who, one by one, placed babies in Mabel's little belly until she repopulated her civilization with half-human gnomes... there had been so many realities, so many different versions of the same events that had brought not only laughter, but also tingles in corners that Bill had only felt when he was with Ford. Why, then, had things turned out so... wrong in his reality? Was it something with him? What hadn't he done right?

As Bill sat down on a warning sign not far from the hut, the soft sound of Frank Sinatra resonated in his mind, telling him: “Over and over, i keep going over the world we knew”. The breeze coming from the large hole in the ground made him jerk away from the sign and, looking closer, feel something he couldn't quite describe. A constipation, perhaps? No, no... that was what humans called happiness. He, a being who didn't belong in that dimension, realized that the hole was much more than just an infinite hole; it was a portal to another reality, and from it, he could feel great power coming out, resonating, vibrating, almost... breathing. He knew two things at that moment: the first was that he wouldn't need the help of any mortal to invade that reality, after all, with his only eye he could see the thin membrane that kept both realities apart. With the right way, with the right touch... he could break through it, invading her as a brawler would, almost as if she were a beautiful woman in a skirt. The second thing he knew at that moment, and this was because he had smelled Ford's lovely, addictive scent up close before, was that reality, however close it was to the reality he was in now, was behind the times. At first glance, they seemed to be twin realities, something that seemed to happen a lot (Stanley and Stanford, Dipper and Mabel...); the difference was that, although they were twins, because of the way they were positioned, the reality inside the hole was upside down. It was like looking at a mirror on the floor, or at the reflection in a lake. His eye lit up with pure excitement, and right there, he almost screamed with the euphoria that hit him. Reaching out, he felt... it was a broken mirror. A churning lake. The image was blurred, splintered, shattered. Reverse.

Almost as if the hole wanted him, Bill was pulled inside. Falling and falling... over and over, he kept looking, looking for the world he no longer knew and, when time seemed to stop passing, his blackened hands tore the piece of fabric from that dimension, throwing him to the other side, throwing him out of the hole where he fell on a large red box surrounded by chains, going right through it. He still had no physical body, but that didn't bother him at the moment. Full of excitement, he floated up into the air to find himself... in a mystery shack that was more destroyed than the one he knew? No, no... it was wrong. He couldn't deny that he felt a pang of despair when, approaching the hut, he noticed that it was worse than he remembered. But if they were twin realities... shouldn't she be identical? Could those be the cracks he felt? Could it be something he'd done wrong? Again? Again?! Could it be he, than, the probl…

“You little shit! How many times have your mother and I told you not to mess with the Gleeful, you annoying little brat?” From inside the cabin, the delicious sound of a leather belt slapping against soft, plump skin made Bill's eyes water, and his curiosity became greater than any previous concern. As he approached one of the windows, his surprise was even greater than any other feeling: Bud Gleeful, wearing a white “wife-beater”-style sleeveless undershirt had, on his knees, Gideon, who was wearing what Dipper used to wear. Orange shirt, blue vest, and the cap. The pine cap.

With his pants down to his ankles and his buttocks red, cut and bleeding, Gideon was whimpering like a little girl. Bill realized he was about to urinate in pain, but Bud didn't give him a second to breathe and hit him once more with the belt.

“I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm sorry!” Ah, his crying... his pathetic crying would turn anyone on instantly. Allowing himself to be taken in by the situation, Bill entered, crossing the wall only to stop next to Mrs. Gleeful who, sitting behind the counter, kept her feet on the wood next to the open cash register while counting the money and not even looking at her own son. Gideon sobbed a few more times, and Bud seemed to be filled with boredom. He pushed the petite and plump boy away, growled at him to put his pants back on and, while putting on his belt, approached his wife to watch her lazily count the money.

“You taught him a lesson,” said Mrs. Gleeful. ”He deserved it.”

“I know. You don't have to tell me.”

“And you were very... manly. I liked it.”

The look she gave her husband... Bill recognized that look. It was the way Ford used to look at him after they discussed metaphysics and black holes together. Science and research seemed to set Ford alight. Gratuitous violence and displays of toxic masculinity seemed to be what set Mrs. Gleeful alight. Bud grinned mischievously, slid his hand down her thighs and unashamedly touched her between the thighs, brushing his thumb across her little thing over her clothes. Gideon, who was gradually pulling himself together, seemed unaffected. He put his pants back on with difficulty and left the hut, leaving his parents alone to enjoy themselves in the middle of the shop.

As Bill had little or no interest in watching them copulate - at that moment -, he left, following the white-haired boy who was limping towards the forest. Curiosity, oh my, curiosity was making him itch! He followed him through the trees, around the dark corners and through the mushrooms and mosses to realize, not far from where the gnomes lived, that he was meeting a taller, thinner, blond figure.

“Pacifica!” The boy shouted, running into the girl's arms

“Gideon, at last....”

With a worried expression that few people had ever seen on Pacifica's face, she approached Gideon and hugged him tightly. The chicken that accompanied her pecked at one stone or another, and that's when the triangle's mind was blown.

The scene was familiar.

A boy in a pine cap... a girl in a pink sweater with a shooting star on her chest... and a pet that should have been on some farmer's plate.

That was the crack.

That was the turbulence in the water.

That was Reverse Falls, and Bill, ah... on the astral plane where he was trapped, laughed like never before. Things were so, ah, so interesting! that he almost choked in happiness.

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Notes:

Introductory chapter. The next chapters will bring the chaos that everyone expects, and of course, lots of nasty things. Is there anything you'd like to see? Maybe it will appear in the next chapters? I just can't promise to please everyone. English isn't my first language, so please excuse any mistakes.

[askthedragonriders]

Good evening dragon riders. This question is for all of you. Life has been very overwhelming lately and loneliness is a very real thing that I (and likely many other people) have been struggling with. Sometimes forcing myself out of isolation can feel near impossible. How do you deal with this sort of stress? (If this question is a lot for you then it’s ok if you don’t answer. I understand).

good evening! this has been sitting in my ask box for a couple of months now at this point (maybe longer). i've finally reached it and i apologize for the wait.

i'm also sorry for not responding to this in character, but i just couldn't bring myself to do it. i am just one person roleplaying as these six goobers and it's hard for me to have them have their own answers while i have my own separate experiences with the same issue and loneliness being smth that has been a part of my entire life until recently.

ik how you feel, anon. life gets overwhelming and you are alone or even with others you feel alone because there's just smth not connecting and putting yourself out there takes up so much energy with the added potential of it not working in your favor at all and it sucks so badly. it SUCKS so badly.

forcing yourself out of isolation is SO much sometimes. at my worst i couldn't even imagine it being possible that i could have the power to get myself out. i can only speak from my experiences and i apologize if it does nothing for you. i understand if it doesn't. we are not the same person, none of us are.

but for me, the stress of it all would be me going to work or having to do smth and being like "you know what. just say hi to someone. introduce yourself." such as a coworker or a fellow student. it gets more difficult if you don't have scheduled things like that which generally require interacting with people and yea, it doesn't mean it'll guarantee the loneliness going away if you happen to talk to someone. i get it.

i've always been somewhat of an outsider and struggled in having friends bc a part of me liked keeping to myself but also i was afraid and stressed but it made me lonely and it just cycled. i was lucky my mom recommended i see a therapist bc she was worried & it ended up working wonders for me in understanding how i operate.

for dealing with the stress of it, sometimes it's as simple as slow breathing, sometimes it's setting tinier goals so it's not so daunting and going step by step, and sometimes it did end up being dealing with the stress head on and jumping in. sometimes finding someone online helped, sometimes having someone irl with me helped. what also helps me is remembering that being lonely will always be part of a phase. our feelings always have opposites. someone else across the world or even across the street is also lonely, either literally alone or at a giant gathering with friends around them. we are lonely together.

you will not be lonely forever and the fact you know you don't like being lonely and don't want to be lonely, even if the stress of coming out of isolation feels like so much, that's enough. it can make the difference. you might even end up not being lonely or fighting it in a way you never expected or didn't even realize because things sometimes just happen. it's what happened to me, i started seeing a therapist and got a new job and there i met my two best friends in the whole world who are some of the only ppl who make me feel happy and full. we don't talk all the time. we don't need to. we pick up right where we left off. i no longer see my therapist and have moved out and my life has changed a lot.

ik that it doesn't always work like that. sometimes you rlly do have to keep getting up, going out, and facing the loneliness head on. usually it'll be a mixture of it happening naturally and being a fight. learning to be comfortable in your own company and taking care of yourself can also be very helpful, and you gotta do that at your own pace. days will sometimes be bad and sometimes be good. it probably won't be noticeable or go as quickly as you hope it will.

i hope you are able to find peace, anon. you will one day see, looking back, that you aren't lonely. even if you still are some time in the future, i hope it's still an improvement from where you are now. i hope your situation has improved for you since you sent this ask.

i wish you the best