#sorry ‘nonny’

[teecupangel]

Hii teecup!! Hope you're doing well!!

May I ask some a/b/o AltDes stuff please (alpha! Altaïr and Omega!Desmond) because there's not much of it out there :'D

Now I'm sure Altaïr would more open minded and much less of an asshole to omegas then most of the people back in his days..... HOWEVER, please hear me out, what if he wasn't

He could be low-key about it, unlike most alphas who are very vocal and open about their 'opinions' on Omegas and such. He's very aloof when it comes to omegas in general, not having strong feelings on anything (very Altaïr behaviour honestly). That is until he meets Desmond.

Now instead of time travel, this time Desmond was born in Altaïr's time. This means Desmond would be raised as a traditional and submissive omega, but he still fought back. He could be born in Alamut (because Eagle of Alamut XD) as the son of the mentor (who is not Diya al-Dīn because he would never) who trained and became an assassin... sort of because idiot bigots.

Desmond is the best assassin in his entire brotherhood, BUT he's not officially an assassin. His father/mentor isn't as strict like most and let him get away with his antics, usually.

That is until Desmond was 'of age' and that's when it starts getting bad for our boy. His dad became more controlling and won't let him sneak off to do missions or fight anymore. He was to be married to whoever the assassins could use as allies. Basically just a bargaining chip. Desmond would fight back harder then ever, even with one of the best assassins guarding him and monitoring his move all the time, he would still be able to sneak off to continue doing missions to make them see just how capable he was.

He could runaway, he probably should runaway, but deep down all he wanted was for his father to love him again. To look at him with pride and treat him like a son again. (Altaïr would use this fact as an advantage later on)

But then it all comes crashing down when he finally gets betrothed. (Idk who he should be betrothed to LMAO it could be whoever. Someone very powerful that the assassins could use)

And all was going to shit for Desmond but it all went to super shit when Altaïr showed up. Because oh boy, Altaïr was a Strom of his own.

Now I honestly don't know how he and Altaïr meets, but it definitely left an impression on Altaïr because he was smitten from the first time they made eye contact. Man was obsessed from here on out kajsksjssoakakak.

And uhh yeah that's all I've got, plot wise

Some notes.

- Desmond pulling all the alpha assholes like catnip.

- Altaïr, manipulating Desmond as a sign of affection

- Malik suffers because we love him <33

Honestly teecup, I just wanted a toxic a/b/o au but it grew plotty legs and ran out of my grasps, my apologies.

And that's all for now!

Sorry in advance if my English is very trying, I'm typing on my phone and it's not the best experience.

PS please make it as toxic and horny as Tumblr allows you to, and I would give you my kidneys.

PPS if you think you know who I am by how I write..... No you don't/lh

As horny and as toxic as Tumblr would allow it? I don’t even know the limit of Tumblr’s tolerance hahahaha

So for this one, if you want Desmond to be born in Alamut as a son of the mentor but not Diya al-Dīn, we can make him the son of an older brother of Diya al-Dīn instead. Born more as a way for the older brother, who was passed over because Diya al-Dīn was more worthy of the title, to try and get power with his son being the next in line for the imam since Diya al-Dīn was still childless at that point.

Diya al-Dīn would be the kind uncle who tried to do right by his nephew but can’t truly intervene because his brother was controlling and had a firm grasp on Desmond’s every day life. It was going well, all things considered.

Desmond wasn’t a genius nor was he inherently talented but he was a hard worker and he always went beyond what was required of him.

His father rewards his hard work by giving him a bit of leeway, all the while making him drink medicinal tea that was meant to change him into an alpha.

It didn’t do anything but hide his scent… which had been easy to do in the first place because those not yet of age only had a hint of scent to show their ‘status’.

Diya al-Dīn tried to be accepting of Desmond’s wish to be an Assassin even if omegas aren’t exactly… well… only omegas that could control their ‘base instinct’ could become Assassins which was hard for an omega without the help of some kind of medicine that would leave them in pain or groggy.

Desmond, unfortunately, is one of the omegas that cannot be medicated. Even if he drank more than he should, that only leaves him in unbearable pain.

That’s why his father pivoted from Desmond becoming the next imam to having some talks with certain powerful rulers. Finding Desmond an alpha that would take him as their official wife or one of his concubine.

His father was less picky of Desmond’s standing and more interested in creating a political bond with a powerful ally (whether he plans to use this to usurp Diya al-Dīn or he simply wants more power outside of the Brotherhood is up for grabs)

And he finally finds one but Desmond would enter into that household as a concubine. His marriage proposition wasn’t a good one all things considered, the alpha was a powerful one but it was well known that his official wife and the older concubines were dangerous. Newer concubines either die from poisoning or accidents or childbirth and, more often than not, their children would not survive more than five summers.

So Desmond escapes. Maybe, just maybe, Diya al-Dīn had a hand in the patrol routes that night and it left certain large windows of opportunity for Desmond to use.

Alamut, of course, will look for him. That’s why Desmond would try to hide from them.

That’s how he meets Altaïr.

He was desperate and his heat was upon him. Altaïr’s scent was overpowering and he could feel it within him that this was an alpha that would fight tooth and nail to keep his omega safe.

He wasn’t a romantic.

He had already accepted the very idea that his alpha would not love him.

He doesn’t need it.

Love did not bring his omega parent any happiness, no matter how overflowing their love for Desmond’s alpha father had been.

What he needed was an alpha who would take care of him and any child he would bear.

So he used his scent to weaken the alpha’s defenses.

It was Desmond who made it impossible for Altaïr to resist.

And so Altaïr claimed him.

.

Unorganized Notes:

Desmond escaped a few weeks after Altaïr killed Rashid but before AC Bloodlines. (So late Sept, early Oct)

He was on his way to Alamut to talk to Diya al-Dīn about being the new mentor (he doesn’t want to be the next mentor) and they actually spent Desmond’s heat in a random abandoned home

Alamut Assassins found them afterwards and, by that point, Desmond was sooo thoroughly claimed that there was no way to say that Altaïr wasn’t his alpha.

This also changed Altaïr’s desire to not be the mentor because the easiest way to keep Desmond by his side is to be the mentor of Masyaf with his marriage to Desmond being a way to ‘mend’ the broken relationship between Alamut and Masyaf.

Desmond’s father was not pleased but fuck him, by law, Desmond was now the property of his mate and Altaïr has no qualms killing the asshole if he doesn’t stop yapping about how he raised Desmond and should have the final say on everything.

He returns to Masyaf and… sorta kicked all the Flowers of Paradise. To be more exact, they were transferred to another part of the fortress while the entirety of Paradise became Desmond’s new home. (Desmond and his most definitely growing child)

That is the second headache Malik got.

The first one was the fact that Altaïr returned with Alamut’s blessing as the mentor (which Altaïr had stressed he would never take) and an omega mate (which he had always said would never happen)

Desmond is free to go anywhere in Masyaf but he will always have guards on him because security reason.

Desmond believes Altaïr’s affection stemmed from the fact that he did more or less coerced Altaïr to biting him during the throes of heat-induced passion so he wants a child to further keep Altaïr ‘happy’ and satisfied (not knowing that the mentor title isn’t passed down from father to son in Masyaf, he honestly believe Altaïr is Rashid’s adopted son)

Altaïr was never fully enthralled during Desmond’s heat. He has been trained to have high tolerance as part of Rashid’s plan to make him the ultimate ‘attack dog’. He marked Desmond fully knowing Desmond was desperate and was trying to ‘seduce’ him.

Honestly, Altaïr just wanted Desmond because his scent had been the sweetest ambrosia he had ever smelled and he believed that meant they were meant to be.

And he will not let anyone get between them, no matter who they may be.

[l3viat8an]

Mammon waking you up by going down on you (with prev consent ofc) or you waking Mammon up with a BJ >_<

Nsfw!

Honestly thought this posted already- cuz it was supposed to be in queue for Mams birthday jsksjsk

I feel like that would happen all the time after you start dating Mammon! I mean he just can’t get enough of you and it is a rather nice way to wake up~

And really some mornings he gets so needy and you look so sweet laying there next to him that he just can’t keep his hands or lips off of you.

At first Mammon was just planning to kiss you, a few kisses down your neck and chest wouldn’t hurt right?- then he starts going lower, moving your clothes out of the way so he can keep kissing your skin, down across your chest and tummy and somehow he ends up between your legs… oops~

You wake up slowly, your mind groggy with sleep and pleasure as your eyes open and all you can see of your boyfriend is a lump under the covers. But as soon as you wake up and start grinding your hips to meet his face a little harder Mammon grabs your hips to pin you back down. At the same time he lifts his head to look up at you, which makes the covers fall back a bit so you can see his face, (his hair is an absolute mess too but that’s not super important :D) a crooked little smirk on Mammon’s face as he sits up enough to press a few more soft and wet kiss across your tummy. Mumbling out “Mornin’ darlin’.” against your skin before he goes right back to what he was doing- making you cum on his face-

He thinks its cute how you try to prop yourself up a bit on your elbows to look down at him and enjoy the show, chuckling to himself as he sucks on your clit just right, that it has your head rolling back and you have to plop right back down onto the pillows because it felt that good.  After all he knows all your sweet spots.

Neither of you talk much but Mammon would praise you for being so good and cummin’ for him, ya should let him take care of ya more often~

Sooo of course it’s only right that you ‘repay him’ wake him up head the next morning.  

Again not hard Mammon almost always has ‘morning wood’ when you sleep in the same bed.

While you’re under the covers tease his tip a bit -trust me- before taking his cock all the way into your mouth.

As soon as you start Mammon’s awake and you can hear all his breathlessly, little moans of “Yea~” and “Oh fuck, yes darlin’, just like that” I’m telling you he can’t keep his mouth shut- “S-shit- Don’t stop fuck.” and even more, “Please- Yea, like that, faster.”

There is a special something -not quite tenderness but that’s the closest word you can think of- to Mammon in these moments. Even as you have his cock in your mouth, even as he groans under his breath and his legs tense. Even as he grabs a handful of your hair and gently pushes you down a little bit to see if you can take him even further down your throat, he’s not trying to be mean but he loves it when you gag on him. Making him moan even louder “Shit- So fuckin’ g-good treasure.” as he cums down your throat.

Maybe it’s the way he smooths over your hair as you swallow his cum. Or maybe it’s the way he starts to pull you up to lay your head on his chest and wraps his arms around you as tightly as he can immediately after. It’s all done with care, as if you’re the most precious thing in his room. And of course to him you are.

(Although if you wanna tease Mammon a little more instead- sit up before he can pull you up and let the covers pool around you as you make a show of licking the last few drops of his cum off your lips ;))

[cyber333angel]

I love ur work sm 😻 errrrr can i req something abt Logan with a young reader who loves wearing tiny clothing?!? micro skirts/shorts, cropped tees/tanks (y2k queeeeen) and like he is very much aware of the generation gap lol but he just can’t help but look at all THAT!!!!! U just look so pretty with ur perfect glitter pink nails and shiny lipgloss that u got him thinking nasty perverted thoughts around you! he is lowk down bad and wade can’t help but poke fun at him it OK that’s all

definitely omg!! im thinking that whenever you and logan met he tried not to focus on your clothes and how much skin it exposed because he knew it was wrong to think of you in that way —with him being 200 years older than you and all. he couldn’t help it obviously, seeing your ass peek out under your mini skirt and just how tempting you were every time you lightly flirted with him. you could just be walking in front of him and logan can’t help but have his eyes glued to your ass, not even paying attention to how wade was catching on. snapping out of it when wade makes a joke of how hypnotized he is by the sways of your hips, “woah there big boy, stare any longer and there won’t be any ass for the rest of us to look at.” earning a very threatening look and denials like from logan.

when the two of you start dating the staring doesn’t stop either, it’s more that since your his now he doesn’t only have to look he could grab it whenever he wants. all of the time, like in the morning when your fixing something to eat in your oversized shirt and panties, he would come up behind you grabbing at your waist, breast just touching all over you. all the places he used to only stare at and have uncontrollable thoughts of becoming his was a great feeling. he also doesn’t care for the pda, wanting to show off what’s his in her pretty outfits. and he definitely doesn’t mind when you do it too, he loves when you grab his biceps and hold them or just admire chest. he loves all parts of you, all the pink, the fashion — he’s just glad to have his pretty girl in his life.

[dollwrites]

OMGG YOUR REIGEN SMUT IS LITERALLY SO DELICIOUS LIKE I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE AND DESCRIBE HIM 😭😭

MAY I PLEASE REQUEST A DRABBLE OF REIGEN + FEMALE/GN READER IN A MATING PRESS PLEASE 🙏🏾🙏🏾 I FEEL LIKE THATD BE SO HOT WITH REIGEN

sorry for screaming in your inbox but I NEED HIM SO BAD 💔💔

— ⟡ dizzy drabbles disclaimer !!

all dizzy drabbles are written when i am extremely high and they don’t contain a trigger warnings list. minors dni, dark themes may be present. these pieces are never proof read so mistakes are probably present. < 3 enjoy your experience

Reigen knew he was fucked.

he’d never actually planned to meet you in person— he liked to talk his big game from the safety and anonymity of the hookup site. he liked to tell you about all the positions he would have you in, how he would ‘pin you to his desk and breed your warm pussy until you were trembling and sore’, but only if he could do it over texts because he knew to look into your eyes and say something like that would be impossible. it might’ve been wrong of him to play pretend, but he couldn’t help it. he became addicted to sexting you; you were one hell of an ego booster, after all, sending all the naughty pictures and videos you did. begging him to fuck you in that soft voice of yours, playing with your pussy for him, no matter when he asked— morning or night.

but he’d never intended this to happen.

he never expected you to actually show up to his office and expect him to make good on all of his dirty promises.

Reigen knew he was so fucked.

“F— fuck, fuck, fuck!” Reigen moans, his eyes, heavily lidded, roll around in his skull as he smears his open mouth around your chest. he nuzzled his face against your flesh when he could hardly think to suck on your nipples anymore, simply allowing his own saliva to mix with the sweat rolling down from his temples, sticking the tips of his blonde tendrils to his forehead. “C—can’t cum anymore, there’s no way I can, nng, cum again…” he chanted under his ragged breath.

it was so low that you barely heard it over the sound of your own, happy moans, or the sound of the desk scraping against the floor in time with his cunt-hungry thrusting. they were the same mindless, and less than tactful, greedy bucking or his hips that had made him cum inside you the first time. the second. the third. but you weren’t finished with him yet, not satisfied by a long shot. both of your hands had slid downward from his shoulders, to his back, and eventually enveloped his rounded ass cheeks, digging your nails in and pushing against him to urge him to fuck you faster. fuck you harder. and, with your legs spread open wide, you gave him even more access to your depths. “Don’t stop yet…” you pant, your head thrown back against a stack of completely forgotten paperwork. “Please don’t stop… fuck me, Reigen!”

he desperately wanted to argue that he already had— the evidence of the last three rounds dribbled out of your pussy each time he bottomed out in you! how could you still want more of him, what if he had no more to give? still, even as his mind knew he was reaching a limit, his body wouldn’t listen. regardless of how overstimulated he was, regardless of the way his cock twitched and ached, regardless of the soreness in his legs and abdomen, he couldn’t stop. not with your cunt so warm and tight, wrapped around him. “No more… I can’t take it anymore…” Reigen pants, but he contradicts his own words when his belt jingles against his thigh as he hooked his knee up on to the corner of the desk. he needed more leverage, otherwise his knees were sure to go weak. grabbing the backs of your knees, he’s able to find a more stable position, kneeling on the desk and mounting you. “Y— your pussy is making me crazy, so soft, so f-fucking tight,” he babbles, tightening his grip on your legs until he could pin you down.”If you don’t stop clenching, I’m gonna cum. P-please, don’t squeeze so much, ugh…!”

but, of course, you couldn’t stop now. not when he was so close to cumming again. your back arches, pushing up to meet his rhythm, taking him balls-deep each time, crying out about how much you needed him to fill you up. your walls flutter around his spasming girth, begging him to give it up. “Cum for me, Reigen!” it was practically an order, but one he couldn’t disobey, even if he wanted to. he cursed under his breath, conceding to your needy request, feeling his self control crumble, and the selfish desire for more pleasure creeping up.

in a more primal and dominant position than he’s ever been before, Reigen can feel his high just around the corner, so he starts to chase it. “I’m cumming,” Reigen gurgled, his face tinted pink and raining sweat and saliva from his open mouth down on to you, but you didn’t mind the shower. “T- take it for me, please! Take it for me!!” the sound of his balls smacking against your ass gets louder as he drills himself downward, fucking you with more reckless abandon now. insecurities out the window, he couldn’t think of anything but filling you with his load.

one.

more.

time.

[marvelsswansong]

Imagine corio seeing a woman flirt with r he’s so confused cuz he’s used to disgusting men after her only

no but like seriously 🌞👉👈

Corio isn't oblivious to the fact that there is a price for dating someone as beautiful as you. Namely, that others - doesn't matter if they're complete strangers or close working colleagues - will secretly want you, with some of them even being bold enough to try and entice you.

This is all much to his annoyance, as he tries being very public about the fact that you're his. Think constant arm around your waist, aggressive kisses in public, loudly calling you 'darling' from across the room. But that doesn't seem to deter everyone.

Especially not the types of men in the Capitol.

If he's feeling calmer that day, he might just stop at glaring at the man whilst pulling you away by the waist, or knocking the breath of you by suddenly grabbing your face and kissing you fiercely for the crowd of men to see. If he's in a sour mood, or it's been a hard week, you have to be careful to keep an eye on the blonde in case he flies into a fit of rage and his mind starts to scan the room for whatever is sharp and capable of causing damage.

"Sometimes I feel as if I have to babysit you." you would tease after one particularly harsh night, where you and Corio get thrown out of a house party after he smashed another man's face into the wall and then proceeded to twist the man's arm to the point of almost breaking a bone. Granted, the man had been extremely aggressive towards you and making very inappropriate comments, but it'd been rather awkward to see the stranger be carried onto an ambulance whilst the head of the household ordered the both of you out.

Chest heaving and knuckles still bruised from the impact, he'd just kiss you again, his tongue tasting of copper.

"Can't help it. You're too pretty." he whispers, and all your criticisms of him would fly out the window.

But Coriolanus is always less guarded when it's a woman around you. After all, you have so many best friends who are women, you spend so much time around grandma'am and Tigirs, and so on. He just associates women being around you with platonic love and comfort.

So when you leave him to go get some drinks at the bar, a fancy upper east side bar you've been begging to go to, he's too busy searching the room for potential men who approach you to notice the red haired woman beelining towards you. She bumps into you 'on accident', pink champagne spilling over the tip of the glass just a bit - a light splash on your jeans, but nothing too bad.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry." she quickly says, grabbing a nearby napkin to hand it off to you. Coriolanus watches the interaction from the back of the club, the specifics of your conversation with her unintelligble over the loud music, but he doesn't think anything much of it. Even when the auburn haired woman's fingers brush against yours whilst exchanging the napkin.

He watches as you smile politely at her, probably telling her that it's okay, before turning around to the bartender to make an order. The woman next to you continues to talk to you through out the exchange, which again doesn't raise any red flags to Corio.

After all, women are very friendly by nature. It's normal that someone, especially a stranger who feels bad for spilling a drink on you, wants to continue to talk to you.

You don't think much of it either on your end, other than thinking that she - Clara, she tells you her name after a soft giggle - is very nice.

It's only when the drinks arrive and the woman stops you, lightly sitting you back down and brushing away the hair from your eyes, that Coriolanus starts feeling rather odd. The sudden wide eyes on your face and the red haired woman's smirk, before she slides you a piece of paper from her back pocket and lets you go, raises a lot of questions in his mind.

His top options? Something along the lines of bribery or illegal drugs. Or maybe she's using you to get something from him. Or maybe she wants something from your family.

What he doesn't expect, is for you to come back totally speechless, fingers deftly hanging onto the small piece of paper. You look somewhere between embarrassed and shocked, refusing to meet your boyfriend's eyes as you sit down next to him. He frowns at that, patting his lap instead.

Normally, you'd sit on his legs without a second thought. This time though, you hesitate.

"What'd she want? Drugs? Mone-" he growls, only to be cut off by the stranger.

"So you weren't lying. You do have a boyfriend." the red haired woman cuts into the conversation, now sitting on the velvet chair across from you. Coriolanus swears his jaw almost drops when the woman laughs seductively, winking at you whilst uncrossing her legs.

"You can sit on my lap instead, honey."

"I, you- I just-" Coriolanus starts speaking in an attempt to swear or scare her off, but his mind totally blanks.

You've never seen your boyfriend this flustered. His pale complexion breaks into a dark shade of red, his usually stern gaze darting back and forth between you and the woman, his speech stuttered and jumbled. It's YOU who ends up having the composure to let her down gently, holding out the paper with her phone number out towards her and informing her that you love your boyfriend very much and you're not that interested.

She pouts at that, and it makes your boyfriend's jaw clench so hard his face aches.

"Aw... alright, darling. But keep the paper. You know, just in case you wanna play."

With a wink and a hair flip, she disappears into the dark crowd of sweaty bodies and loud music. It's only then that your boyfriend snaps into action, taking the paper into his hands and shredding it to pieces.

"She called you darling." he snarls, angry. "Only I get to call you darling."

You just giggle, kissing away his sour expression, before tugging at his sleeves.

"Come on, forget about it. Let's just dance." you say, the alcohol in your veins still making you feel buzzed. He complies, never being able to say no to you, but the entire night, he can't help but hold you very close and glare at everyone who approaches you or even looks at you.

Regardless of their gender.

Now, he has to protect you from everyone, he thinks.

BONUS SCENARIO (later in the night)

You've had one too many drinks and yell into Coriolanus' ear that you really need to go to the bathroom. You clutch your handbag and stumble into the corridor, leaving your boyfriend alone by the bar. A stunning blonde woman slides into the empty seat next to him, glossy lips parting to ask a question.

Thinking she's going to hit on him, he raises his right hand, stopping her on the spot.

"I'm not interested, sorry."

The woman scoffs at that, ordering a tequila shot and almost glaring at him.

"Neither am I, genius. I was just wondering if you knew the name of the cutie who just went to the bathroom."

The moment you come back, he practically drags you out of the bar and hails a cab back to the apartment.

He's had enough of women trying to steal you from him. At least for that night.

a/n: hope you guys like this small type of blurbs too in between major fics hehe

[heeliopheelia]

mtl to take their time with introducing their partner to the rest of the members when they get into a relationship (or who is more private about their romantic relationships)

hi cutie!! thanks for requesting and i'm so sorry for taking so long!!

takes the longest

Sunghoon - don’t ask me why pls, it’s not even that he’s like too shy or anything, i always headcanon hoon as a guy who doesn’t really talk about his emotions and respects his privacy, so i think it would just come a little harder to him to show the guys such vulnerable side of himself

Niki - he’s a rather reserved teenager who also doesn’t wanna get teased. would just text you to hang out and when you actually come to his dorm he makes a half-assed introduction to the guys before locking the both of you away in his room lmaoo

Heeseung - hmm i was actually hesitating with this one but i’m gonna stick by my hunch… it’s not that he’s ashamed or none of that bullshit, i just feel like he’s also quite a private guy so it would just take him a little longer to introduce you

Jungwon - i think he would talk about you a lot but wouldn’t really push it when it comes to the introduction itself. not a particular reason for it, it’s just something that needs to grow on him cause he’s still kinda a baby in the group yk

Jay - i feel like he’d be rather casual about it, i’m talking like he would not make a big deal out of this at any point… he’s a grown ass man, he has a beautiful partner who he’s very proud of – what’s there to be ashamed of

Sunoo - another one that i think is content with his feelings and exposing such side to the others, so it wouldn’t take him too long to properly introduce you to the boys

Jake - my mans got nothing to hide, bro couldn’t shut the fuck up about you ever since the moment you met so it’s only fair that the guys meet the object of his (insufferable) adoration

takes the shortest

[thefrsers]

requested by Anon: Bathena kisses in s7

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

“No, wait. Stay- Stay back. I need to think rationally.” “...What’s that got to do with me?” for bruce please? 🤲

“I’m weak for you.” Prompts

Sure thing nonnie! This one went a little angstier than intended, sorry 😅 the spirit moved me

Warnings: Angst that ends in fluff; no relation to The Other Half

You were trying not to completely lose your cool, but under normal circumstances, who wouldn’t be freaking the hell out?

“Oh…My god.”

“Okay,” Bruce set the helmet on his kitchen counter, raising his hands, “I know this looks bad.”

“Oh my god."

“I need you to take a deep breath—“

“Oh my god.”

“And relax—”

“Oh my god, are you kidding me?” You screeched, waving your hands to the batsuit. Bruce took another step closer, and you raised your hand to stop him. “Don’t.“

“Let’s sit down,” He took another step, and you shook your head.

“No, wait. Stay—Stay back. I need to think rationally.”

“…What’s that got to do with me?”

You shot Bruce a withering look, eyes darting between him, the suit, and the helmet. The engagement ring on your hand had never felt so heavy before, not even when he put it on your finger. Your hands curled into fists as you lowered them to your sides. Bruce’s expression was indiscernible as you took a few steps closer, then skirted around him, hurrying to the penthouse elevator.

“I’m going to—I need to clear my head,” You flubbed.

“Are you coming back tonight?”

You should’ve said yes, you knew that. This was Bruce, your Bruce, the man that you loved, but…You were suddenly questioning whether you’d ever really known the man at all. You gave a small shake of your head.

“I don’t know.”

You felt like you should apologize for it, but you couldn’t. You stepped onto the elevator, curling your arms around yourself and keeping your gaze studiously on the floor. You saw Bruce come into view just as the doors slid closed, but he made no effort to stop them from closing.

You drew in a shuddering breath as the elevator began to descend, leaning back against the wall and scrubbed your shaking hands over your rapidly heating face. You heaved in tight, nervous breaths, desperately trying to calm yourself. You pushed away from the wall as the elevator doors opened, and nearly slammed directly into someone.

“Oh—!”

“Pardon me, miss.”

You looked up to find Alfred there, his hands steadying you. He searched your face for a moment, his smile wilting.

“…He told you,” He surmised, and your stomach lurched. Of course Alfred knew.

“Not exactly,” You managed. “Excuse me.”

"Can I drive you somewhere?"

"No! No. Thank you."

Alfred gave a small nod as you stepped past him, hurrying out and into the night.

—

You both looked like shit—tired, and drawn, sitting at the opposite ends of the counter as sunlight crept into the kitchen. Neither of you were speaking as Alfred puttered around efficiently, setting mugs of coffee down for both of you before disappearing up the stairs.

“…Where’d you go?” Bruce finally asked.

“You didn’t follow me?”

“You thought I would?”

You nodded. He tipped his head to the side.

“…I considered it,” He admitted.

“Have you followed me before?”

“A couple of times, early on.”

“Why?”

“You weren’t traveling to the safest of places.”

“I was fine.”

“I know.”

“Of course you do,” You muttered.

"So?"

"Hm?"

"Where'd you go?"

"Just to a hotel." You trailed your finger along the side of the coffee mug. You didn’t feel any less flustered than you had the night before. Distance and space had helped level your head a little, but the more you’d thought about your life with Bruce, with who he truly was, your questions had multiplied.

“…Has it been you the entire time?” You asked.

“Yes.”

“You’re not some copycat?”

“No.”

“…How can I trust that?”

“You—“

“How can I trust anything that you say now, Bruce?”

He didn’t answer, or try to justify anything, just hung his head. You were angry, sure, and you were so fucking confused, but you couldn’t just look at that hangdog expression and just sit there like a fucking statue.

You straightened up, crossing to Bruce and curling your arms around his shoulders. Bruce twisted slightly in your grasp, drawing you closer and curling his hands in your sweater. You sighed softly, pressing a kiss to his head as you gently raked your nails over the nape of his neck. The two of you held one another for a few minutes, reveling in one another’s touch.

Bruce leaned away to get a better look at you, grasping your hands. His thumb smoothed over the band of your engagement ring, and you watched relief sweep over him.

“You’re still wearing it,” He murmured.

“Mhm. Someone would have to pry it off of my cold dead—“

“Please don’t say that.”

You bit your lip. Fuck, you didn’t mean it like that.

“Sorry, baby.”

"Mm."

You sighed, grasping his chin and tipping his head up to get a good look at his face.

“…I’m still mad at you.”

“I know.”

“I have a lot of questions.”

“I know.”

You shook your head, sighing.

“Okay,” You turned, looking around. “We’re going to bed, we’re getting some sleep, and when we get up, I’m going to interrogate the fuck out of you.”

"I'm looking forward to it."

Tag list:

@missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; 

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; 

@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; 

@thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; 

@winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989 ; @missswriter ; @nominalnebula

[bananielle]

it’s ur birthday and you have the sweetest sex with taesan s he takes care of you and makes you feel so pretty and loved :(. i love taesan

he'd be so so sweet and soft with you ♡ would take his time, more so than usual, worshipping every inch of your body slowly and tenderly. he’d whisper the sweetest compliments into your skin — calling you his beautiful angel and reminding you that you’re the most wonderful thing to ever happen to him. handles you so gently; every soft touch filled with so much love you can feel it in your bones. he would start by kissing you everywhere, marking you in secret places that only you and him are able to see, and he wouldn’t eat you out until his lips kissed everywhere they could reach. makes out with your pussy painfully slowly, moaning into your clit because of how sweet you taste. runs his hands up and down your waist and hips softly as you cum in his mouth.

when he finally fills you up and stretches you out, he kisses each of your fingertips softly, looking into your eyes as he whispers i love you in between each peck. he’d have one hand carefully caressing your cheek, while the other is interlocked with one of yours above your head. when you're close to cumming, he’d give you gentle, reassuring squeezes. "i know, i know, baby” “you look so beautiful like this. i love you angel" and he’d press his lips to yours as his tip kissed your cervix just right and undid you.

everything would be so romantic and loving and intentional, he would make love to you as if both of your souls were melding to be one.

[teddybeartoji]

imagine laying on top of toji while he's watching some lame sports match or show like an old man and rubbing the stubble forming on his jaw with your hand. he got lazy to shave for one day and it's already like this so ofc you'll get curious!! and it's very relaxing to bother him when there's nothing to do...

"have you ever tried growing a beard out?" and then he'll just answer you with a grunt. something special about him being an old grump i'm going to bite him

NONNIEEEE!!!! TOJI THE OLD MAN TOJI THE GRUMP MY BELOVED!!!!!!! btw i loooooove toji and his stupid old man shows – top gear, two and a half men, prison break, the mentalist (???) etc etc. and aside from the various sports matches, he also loves to watch wwe lmao.

toji absolutely adores when you "annoy" him. his one hand is resting under his head while the other holds the tv remote, and he is doing his Best to not look at you. you look like a pup, staring at him with curious eyes. the prickly feeling of his stubble is making your nose scrunch up every so often and thinks you're just so cute like this. he just grumbles at your questions but you don't mind. you refuse to stop pestering him.

you're tracing your fingers over his earlobes asking whether he'd ever get a piercing; you gently pull at his cheeks, so he's making a funny face and it's so entertaining. you're quite literally using him as a stim toy.

you press an open-mouthed kiss to the junction of his neck and he groans at your antics. but. he cannot hide the smirk that's stretching onto his lips. he drops the remote and moves to squish your cheeks instead. "y'r ridiculous."

"yaluvit." your words are coming out all slurred, his hold on you making it hard to speak properly.

he hums and you feel his whole body vibrate. you melt even further into him. the laugh track plays in the background and he takes his hand from your face. you pucker your lips at him, asking for a kiss with a big grin. but you're just met with a palm against your mouth and now it's your turn to grumble at him.

he's already so smug, proud to be pestering you back. but not for long. because when your warm, wet tongue slides against his palm, he's actually Yelping out. and you use the moment to grab his wrist and stop him from pulling away. sinking your teeth into the side of his hand, he stares at you amusedly.

"are ya a dog?"

"maybe."

there are teeth marks in his skin when you finally let him go and he doesn't waste a second to pinch your side. "behave."

"whatever." you mutter back, your attention back on his cactus-like chin. your soft fingers trail over his skin and he kind of hates to admit that he wants to kiss you stupid right now.

[l3viat8an]

Levi's favorite thing to do while watching anime with MC is fingering and/or fondling MC's boob/boobs. Levi makes comments about the show and asks for MC's opinion. Meanwhile, MC is just a whiny, whimpered, teary-eyed mess sitting on his lap or between in his legs. 🤤💜

Nsfw!

!!! Nonnie!!!- omggshsg that’s so hot 😩 especially the part about boobs

Levi and his obsession with your boobs literally just cuddling watching any anime-

Everything starts out innocent enough with you sitting in Levi’s lap as the show starts and then Levi’s hands start low playing with the hem of your shirt. He’s not trying to tease you, really!!! He’s just needs to keep his hands busy!!- yea, that sounds believable-

His fingers moving up your stomach, then up higher ‘n higher, while you try to focus on the screen and when his hands finally reach your boobs- fully cupping them, squeezing just a little, his thumbs running over your nipples-

Levi’s so engrossed in the anime playing that he doesn’t notice the way you gasp and let out whimpering little moans.

His hands keep squeezing and massaging, his fingernails digging into your soft skin…. building your anticipation…he gives your nipples some feathery light touches, then pinches them which makes your whole body jerk in his lap.

He doesn’t just stick to that tho, he’ll tweak and twist them too. he’s playing around with you. And then Levi says something about….the plot? Maybe. You’re not sure, after all you haven’t really been paying attention, he’s grumbling about how it doesn’t make sense and when you don’t reply Levi finally looks away from the screen and at you-

Your cheeks are bright red, eyes filled with tears from all his unintentional teasing. Levi’s mouth falls open a dry, “…..whoa..” leaving his lips- and that’s not really what you wanted to hear right now, meeting his eyes you beg, “Levi, please don’t stop….n-need more..” and you wiggle your hips against his again trying to get any friction you can down there. Levi’s mouth is still open a little bit and his eyes are still stuck on your face so he simply nods, hands still on your tits- now he wants to watch you, wants to see if you can really cum just from him playing with your boobs….

You’ll both end up coming in your pants before the episodes even over-

[bobardo]

how would carmy react if he ever accidentally hurt his girl…like not in a fun sexy way but in a real way…whether it’s genuinely fucking/spanking her too hard or saying something rather mean during sex

oh god i feel like he'd literally burst a blood vessel 😭

tw!! carm hurts his cub (emotionally). allusions to domestic ab*se (carm is a healing boy, all right?) happy ending.

i can see this happening after carmy loses for the first time. like, it sucks to lose for anyone, but this is carmen we’re talking about—the definition of a loser; a boy small and quiet enough to frighten into a corner, terrorize into a blank mind (poor, bruised boy. built a name for himself out of hollow self-confidence and false healing, a persona that crumbles with one (hundred) too many punches).

he walks through the tunnels with his head hung low, eddie’s hand massaging his right shoulder and benny’s soothing his left; nacho in front, his larger form shielding carm’s blotchy face from the inconsiderate paparazzi. y/n trails timidly beside her bear—hurting and erratic.

the locker room is stock-still silent as they file inside. usually, there's hollering and chanting in celebration as soon as they step through the threshold, and after congratulations and hugs (and kisses from his sweet cub), carm heads for the shower to wash away the grime of his brutal victory.

this time, though, there are no congrats to be given.

everyone seems to be walking on powder eggshells, overly tentative and precautionary as they tend to him. any questions they have for him are low and prudent, and any answers he has to offer them are clipped, and slightly cruel—finds it difficult to show kindness when their own is unwarranted, he lost. he failed (and failing does not call for sympathizing but for reprimanding, punishment; not consolation but condemnation).

"jus' fuck off, dude," carmen huffs, shrugging benny's hand of his shoulder. he sighs, drops his palm from figure and turns on his heal to walk out, anxiously twirling his toothpick along his tongue.

he steps next to y/n, where she waits, pretty in pink, like always, with her hands folded in front of her legs, eyes to the floor. he bumps his boney shoulder to hers, "think he needs you." her eyes flit up to meet his, and he gives her a small smile, and look of encouragement. "go get him, tiger," he whispers gently.

famous last words.

everyone silently gets the message and leaves the locker room to give carmen his space; all except his girl, his sweet cub.

"carmy," she utters softly, stepping toward him.

he throws her a look over his shoulder, "not now, cub, i'm... not now."

she frowns—presses still.

"carm," she tries again, sliding a supple palm up the curve of his back.

he jerks away from her touch, "not fuckin' now, y/n!" he keeps his back to her and starts toward the medical bed, blood dripping from his fingertips.

she bristles, but doesn't let him see it. takes a defesive step back, kicks up her chin, and swallows the lump in her throat (she hated it when he yelled, when he bunched himself up and tucked himself away in that corner of his mind, away from everyone, even her, but his protector. she couldn't help him there, couldn't pry him from the clutches of claws).

"please don't speak to me like that, carmen," she says, soft but firm. "i'm your girlfriend, not on payroll."

he snorts as he rips a white towel off the overhead shelf and starts soaking up the blood from his various wounds. he's rough as he scrapes it up and down his battered body, hurtful. y/n longs to reach out and do it for him—delicate and caring, the way he deserves—but keeps her twitching hands at her sides.

"fuckin' act like it," he mutters under his breath.

her eyebrows rise with indignation, "excuse me?"

"i said y'fuckin' act like you're on my payroll, shit!"

y/n's spent a long time trying to learn how to not be sensitive. she came from a household of men—four brothers, all boxers, thanks to her father—but just because she was constantly surrounded by their brutality doesn't mean she ever fully adapted to it. she inherited their tough skin—took the chipped pieces on the gym floor and melded them to her flesh herself, thicker, harder to pierce—but she couldn't bury her very being, no matter how hard she tried; she would always be a sensitive soul.

she exhales a shaky breath, her fingers curling into her palms, nails digging. he didn't mean it, he was just upset with himself.

"watch your damn tone, carmen."

"or what?" he scoffs, whipping around to face her, tossing the bloodied towel to the side. it's the first good look she's gotten at his face since the start of the fight, and it makes her want to scream.

he's got a swollen, bruised left eye and a crooked nose, a swelling jaw and busted lips; battered and bloodied, from his collarbone, scattered all across his torso.

her throat threatens to close up, and carmy's taking a looming step closer to her too fast for her to combat it.

"what the fuck are you gonna do? fuckin' bitch at me like you always do, huh?" she flinches as he gets in her face, stumbling back. "carmy this and carmy that, but s'never fucking good enough, is it? you just get to sit there and look pretty—live in my house, use my fuckin' money—and god fuckin' forbid i ever ask anything of you!" he throws his arms up, exasperated, huffs out a laugh, though it's certainly humorless. "i'd screw those precious fuckin' feelings a'yours, get y'cryin' like the fuckin' crybaby y'are..."

his voice trails off, the fiery blaze in his eye faltering—like he knows he's fucked up—but his face hardens again before she has the chance to decipher it.

there's part of her that wants to hurt him the way he's just hurt her, put up a fuckin' fight and scream at him the way they're both so used it. another part, though—a much stronger part—is too hurt to hurt him; too sad that her bear would take violence and cruelty over the kindness of others because he'd never been taught how.

she looks at him with a broken furrow between her brow—a bitter smile on her lips. her voice is watery as she starts, "i never asked you for any of that. you offered, and i accepted. and my sincerest fucking apologies for being a human, with emotions." she scoffs, let's out her own humorless laugh. she bites her lips to try and stop the river of tears at bay, looks to the side so he won't notice as a tear slips down her red cheek.

carmen exhales a long breath—he went too far. "cub—"

she lifts a dismissive hand, "no, y'know what? it's fine," she sniffs harshly, rubs underneath her eyes to stop the stray tears from slipping. "i'm— i'm gonna give you some space," she utters, turning to find her purse and coat. carmy watches her gathering her things uselessly, stuck. "seems like y'could use it."

she doesn't look back at him as she rushes to the door, and only stops when she feels a large paw grazing the exposed skin of her back.

"y/n," he whispers, wavering, unsure.

she brushes his hand from her figure.

"i'll be at your house," she mumbles, and slips out of the door.

when it slams shut, carmy can't help the chocked sob that works its way up his sore throat. he stumbles backward, trips over his feet and crumbles to his knees. he curls into himself (like the boy in his mind, tucked safely in the corner), wraps his aching arms around his bent legs a cries like the crybaby he'd just accused his girlfriend of being.

his sweet cub.

god, he fucked up. they fight, so much—too much. he knows her mannerisms, has studied the inclinations of her sadness, frustration, irritation, and anger. he can't ever recall being faced with her disappointment, however, her utter hurt.

he fucked up, bad. but he's gonna fix it (has to, or the boy in the corner will never stop shaking with fear, sobbing, wailing—waiting for his protector to return with his cub).

——

it's late when carmen gets home. their home, not his (couldn't call it his, was never his when she's the one who made his house a home). he walks through the door of their penthouse with his hands full—his duffle bag, a bag of take out (from the three michelin star joint down on 39th), a heart-box of chocolates, and a large bouquet of flowers—and his tail tucked between his wobbly legs.

he places her gifts on the kitchen counter when he walks by in passing, groaning in relief as weight is lifted away from his body (he got beat the shit out of—had to if he fuckin' lost).

he walks into their bedroom as quietly as he can, softly kicking the door shut behind him. in their king-sized bed lay his sweet cub, curled up beneath the blankets—chin tucked and knees pulled to her chest—in a baby pink nightie and matching bonnet. he watches the subtle rise and fall of her back, smile fondly.

he shuffles to the foot of the bed and sets his duffle there, then moves around to her side, kneeling before his sleeping beauty.

"cub," he whispers, feather light as he presses stray baby hairs peaking through the band of her bonnet back underneath. "wake up f'me, baby, 've got some grovelin' t'do."

she groans groggily into the sheets as she starts to come to, stretches out like a cat as her tear-clumped, heavy eyes peel open.

"hey, sweet cub," he murmurs. she eyes him blankly through fluttery lashes.

he deserves that.

"i'm sorry, my girl," he sighs heavily, beginning to pet at her blotchy cheek. "i didn't mean it, fuckin' any of it. you don't bitch at me, y'never ask too much of me," he brings his free hand up to cradle her pretty face as tears begin to well in her eyes. "this is your house, your home. my money is yours, more than it's mine—fuckin' spend it all, cub, i don't care," the both huff out a short laugh, his fond, hers snotty. "y'not a crybaby, you're my baby—my girl, my sweet fuckin' cub, and i'm so goddamn sorry i said those things to you, baby."

she sniffles, curls her fingers around his wrists to keep him close. "y'mean it?"

his lips twitch up in a gentle smile, "i mean it, cub; m'so fuckin' sorry, sweetheart."

"good."

she pulls him in by her grip on his wrists, mouth pressing to his.

safe to say he's forgiven (he carries her out to the kitchen—arms clasped around his neck, legs wrapped around his waist—and presents her gifts to her for good measure, though. sits her in his lap and feeds her yummy pasta and chocolate with a glass of sangria, one of her go-to drinks, to see that giddy smile.

then eats her out of the kitchen counter, too).

——

a/n: how to make the writing process go faster no glue no borax

not edited/proofread!!

[cyber333angel]

Can you do the P* Links but for Gambit? Thank u! <3

I didn’t get to watch dp&w yet so I don’t rlly know him but this clips of this man are so silly 😭 but here you go ml

on the couch

you and gambit on the porch

movie night

gambits obsession with your t*tties

morning s*x

gambit after convincing you to ride his face

size kink with gambit

intimacy

[murdockcastleslut]

hi! can i please request a frenchie fic where the reader is a former member of the seven? with whatever angsty prompt you like. thank you!

okay i am so excited for this and i may sob writing this! i kinda took inspo from this tiktok edit of frenchie and kimiko. oh and this is the prompt im gonna use, "listen to me-" "No, no!" "my dear, i swear, that isn't what i meant." "oh yeah? i don't think so. you were pretty loud and clear back there." | request info here!

you were fuming, was he right? were just another piece of shit supe like the rest of them, like a-train, like the deep, like homelander?

his voice cuts you train of thought when he tries to reason with you has you pack what you could into a duffle.

"listen to me-" his accent thick.

"no, no!" you yell just trying to tune out his voice.

"mon coeur, i swear, that isn't what i meant." he pleads to you.

"oh yeah serge? i don't think so. you were pretty loud and clear back there." you say as you move towards your nightmare.

"please please just look at me." he reaches for you hand.

you turn and look at him tears glossing your eyes as you try and scowl.

"mon amour, please i didn't mea-."

"please just fucking stop!" you yelled at him. "this who i fucking am! i'm a fucking no good piece of shit supe right? i was a fucking fool to think that maybe just maybe my mentor would do the right thing! but you can't fucking judge me when you still follow order from butcher like his fucking lap dog!"

"that's cruel and you know it." he says.

"that's right it is. you're right i am. but i'm fucking right. he treats you like shit and he doesn't care about you and he's on some fucking vendetta and he doesn't care who gets hurt. I want to hurt homelander as much as he does! but i would never put you or anyone else on in fucking danger! so yes i might have slipped up but i owned up to it and made sure everyone was fucking safe! while that fucking cunt could two shits if a supe like me sends up dead. so i'm fucking done." you shut your eyes and clench your fist digging you fingers nails into you skin.

frenchie takes you and into his and gets on his knees.

"if you need to be mean, be mean to me. if you must inflict pain, perhaps i can endure it so you don't have to suffer." he pulls your fingers away from your palm.

"please don't leave. not like this." he looks up at you with pleading eyes.

[frostbitebakery]

If I may request for gooey wan:

After reading the snippet about Rex' reaction, I'm just curious how different groups of people react to the craziness of Obi-Wan's powers and how unfazed the 212th is.

How does his powers act when they're on shore leave and he and Cody go to Dex's for lunch.

Anyway keep up the amazing writing, can't wait for the next part of the loud!au it's so good ❤️

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” a child-like voice sings and Fives tries to become one with the wall immediately.

“You cannot run! You cannot hide!” The following giggling turns up the goosebumps on his arms to the max, and he indulges in a shiver.

“I hate horror holos,” he whispers to himself before switching on internal comms. “Weren’t we supposed to be inconspicuous about this?”

“Change of plans,” Rex tells him from somewhere on the northern side of the command center. “He’s stopping them from calling reinforcements.”

The child-voice suddenly shrieks in glee and Fives’ goosebumps reach new heights. “Found you!”

“Squad Esk, change position to point 5-7-Krenth,” Commander Cody orders over comms, and, naturally, they haul ass.

Squatting down on the gangway opens up quite the view in the bubble of disturbing silence that apparently surrounds General Kenobi when he does his thing.

It’s a void of nothingness. Not actually harmful to living beings, though the sparking droids let Fives theorize that some electronics don’t have much to buffer against whatever the General… exudes. Pardon his Coruscanti.

The enemy commander scrambles against the wall, trying to get away from Kenobi who’s standing still in front of them. The black smoke is thick, covering the entire floor and crawling up the corners nearby.

The enemy is caught up in the General’s look, the Galaxy black holes that are rumored to hide behind the pleasant smile.

Fives clicks his knee guard against the gangway just to break the suffocating silence but no sound rises up.

The enemy collapses to their knees and Kenobi steps back. Not physically but his sheer presence seems to decrease in intensity. Fives clicks his kneeguard again and this time, the sound is allowed to reach his ears.

“Cody,” Kenobi says quietly, “the hostages are about to be transported off planet. I don’t know from which port.”

“On it,” Commander Cody answers and immediately barks orders over comms to shut down all spaceports.

“Do you surrender,” Kenobi asks, still quiet. Tired.

Fives feels his brow furrow involuntarily.

“Yes,” the enemy replies, pale and shaking under the General’s gaze. “Please…”

And that’s how Fives’ first joint mission ends. Not with a bang but goosebumps that fail to disappear for a few good hours afterwards.

.

“It’s been rough for him,” Cody admits, absently swirling the straw through the milkshake Dex put in front of him the moment he fell into a seat at the counter like all his strings had been cut. “He’s overcompensating for the time he hid from me— us who he is.”

Dex mulls over that for a moment. Long enough the Commander glances up at him. “He’s a dumbass,” he settles on, the diplomatic route. “Always has been.”

Cody snorts, takes a sip. “I talked to him, of course,” he says, flaps his hand before scratching at the prominent scar on his forehead. “He competently ignored me to the point I benched him.” Cody shakes his head, wide eyes on the milkshake. “That was incredibly stressful.”

The diner is empty at this time of night. Quiet and reserved for all types of encounters; from distressed clone commanders to their smokey nightmare Jedi.

Dex studies Cody for a moment, weighing the possibilities what a man like that could need the most at the moment. “Grab the mop. We’re cleaning the kitchen.”

.

“—and then he looks at you with those big eyes and you’re supposed to say no? How?” Cody hauls the bucket out of the sink, black sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “While he tells you once again about boundaries and all the important aspects of choice, and due diligence of command.”

“That sounds like a you problem,” Dex says drily, scrubbing at a medium stubborn stain on the durasteel work counter.

“I am aware, thanks,” Cody sneers and Dex hides his laugh in the spritz of grease remover. “I want to be unaware of that but that stage has passed right to anger.” He wrings out the mop with what Dex would describe as thirst for vengeance. “Maybe I can un-love him,” he murmurs to himself like on the verge of epiphany. “What stage is that?”

“Bargaining,” Dex replies, crosses two of his arms while another still scrubs at the stain. “Those are the five stages of grief by the way. You’re falling in love.”

“Isn’t that the same in the end?” Cody mutters which is certainly food for thought.

“The first time I met Obi-Wan,” Dex starts and the Commander’s incredible attention is focused on him like a laser. It’s intimidating even for someone like Dex. “He got stuck in the darkness in the back alley.”

“Sounds just like him.”

It had been right out of a horror holo.

:

The alley behind the diner had always been a quiet place on Coruscant.

Dex let the trash bag fall into the dumpster but no sound came forward.

It had never been this quiet and dark.

He tapped on the ground with a foot. Nothing. Flicked his fingers against a drainpipe.

Nothing.

“I’m sorry,” a young voice said from the dark, right behind his shoulder, and Dex jumped. “I don’t know how to stop it.”

He spun around, squinted into the unnatural dark.

A soft sniffle from above and he looked up and into blue glowing eyes. “I’m sorry.”

.

Smoke rushed past him, howling and shrieking in the distance. Two of his hands were clamped around a small waist while the child and he tried their best to separate smoke from the darkness.

“I really am trying to corporeal my sense of self,” the child defended himself and Dex could only imagine the kinds of accusations thrown his way.

“Don’t worry about.” They’d been trying to untangle the child from the side of the building for close to twenty minutes with no progress at all. “You’re like a sticky womp rat,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?”

The offense taken was a bit too hilarious. Dex grinned up at the kid. “You don’t know what a sticky womp rat is? The slime toy? You throw it to the ceiling and it sticks.”

“A slime—!”

And just like that they both fell to the ground. Dex’s back would never forgive him.

.

“I trapped someone in their nightmares,” the young Jedi confessed, shoulders hunched up.

“Did you do it on purpose?” Dex asked, whisking hot milk into the custard.

“At first,” was the murmured reply, and Dex was surprised. The child didn’t seem the type. “I was so angry with Bruck.”

“You let them go?”

“As soon as I could.”

Dex turned around, watched Obi-Wan wipe at his eyes with the smoky sleeves. “Which wasn’t fast enough, I’m guessing,” he said, placed with custard bowl in front of the child.

“There’s no one like me at the Order,” Obi-Wan whispered. “I want to help, not be the cause for pain.”

:

“He took it to the extreme,” Dex says, remembers the instances too close in time where Obi-Wan visited him, looking more and more human and less and less like himself. “He put his nature into a box and forgot about it.”

“His compartmentalization is top tier,” Cody murmurs, close to awe.

Dex facepalms. “Not the point.”

Cody takes another dozen plates to the designated cupboard. “After the incident,” and Dex can hear the suppressed capitalization of the word, “he was like a newborn. Stumbling and helpless.”

“Must’ve been a nightmare.” He remembers the chill, the feeling of being hunted.

“No one slept a wink the first week,” Cody laughs, sobers. “It was like the ship was haunted by ourselves. He apologized so much. Wasn’t easy.”

Dex can only imagine.

Cody looks up, makes sure of the eye contact, and Dex doesn’t do him the disservice of looking away. “He had helped us so much. So we stepped up and helped him.”

Obi-Wan is one unlucky son of a blaster but he earns the loyalty given to him.

.

“Thank you, Dex,” Obi-Wan said, eyes glowing blue. Small claws clinked against the empty bowl.

Dex nodded, ruffled ginger hair. “Anytime, young Jedi. Your ride is here.”

I know, was whispered into his ear and he shivered.

Obi-Wan blushed. “Sorry.” Hopped down from the seat and into the care of the Jedi, visibly sagging with relief, coming through the diner door.

There was a small black blob on the floor. Dex wiped it away without second thought.

Cold, cold, alone. Strangling suffocating he knows—

“I know what you did and your victims will be more forgiving that I am.”

Cold. He runs. Runs runs runs—

.

“You two should come in together next time,” Dex suggests, shakes off the memory.

Cody smiles at him.

:

“I am the hungry.” Obi-Wan’s eyes rush into black. He takes a step forward, flickers. “I am the anyone. I am the everywhere.” The void spreads, consumes. “I hunt your nightmares until I become them.”

“See,” a voice whispers into Cody’s head, “deep down, deep down, they’re all like that.”

Cody nods, stands up straight. “Blast him.”

The 212th turns as one, fires. Fires and fires until the smoke screams.

“Good soldier,” the voice says.

Cody wakes.

.

The next day ARC trooper Fives is declared a traitor.

[slasherscream]

I love your writing! And you just get my craziness and character obsessions. I was thinking what would happen if reader had a bruise cheek or lip, and refuse to tell them what happen. Then they discover that the reader was the one who beat the shit out of someone for saying something about their partner, and how proud yet pissed off they will be. I’m think Crazy Ass Girls Gang, need more possessive and protective FMC. Thank you!

warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Tiffany Valentine - Tricks you into thinking she’s gonna be normal about it. She purses her lips when you won’t tell her anything, but quietly rushes off to get the first-aid kit. WATCH OUT! You have just activated a trap card: emotional manipulation. Her most powerful weapon. She’ll silently and dotingly take care of you. Disinfectant. Gentle Hands. Careful bandaging. Petulant silence. Painkillers lovingly dropped in your hand. Big sad eyes staring up at you. When you inevitably break and tell her what happened she could melt! She does melt, straight into your arms. You’re gonna be covered in lipstick by the time she’s through with you. Her hero. Don’t worry, she’ll help you clean up… eventually. Later, you’ll have to help her clean up too. It was so romantic of you to fight for her honor…. But she'd never let someone live after they hurt you, silly.

Jordan Li - Won’t drop the line of questioning until you’re damn near ready to fight her too. She hates that you’re hurt. She loves that you wanted to defend her. Jordan gets a lot of criticism, sometimes it seems never ending. The fact that you feel so strongly about protecting her, not because you think she can’t fight her own battles… but because she shouldn’t have to do it all alone? It means a lot. Still, she doesn’t want you getting into fights. Let alone fights over her. It doesn’t matter how badly you hurt the other person. If there are marks on you Jordan is going to go find them for round two. “You like to put hands on people?” Words spoken seconds before disaster (she’s ignoring the fact that you started the fight. Jordan could give a shit about semantics.)

Nancy Downs - Don’t wanna tell her? Cool! Get ready to experience her favorite couple’s activity besides shoplifting: abusing your coven bond to read your mind! Hooray! It will hurt badly. Because Nancy always makes it hurt when you keep her out on purpose, or hide things from her (or when she thinks you’re doing that.) But don’t worry, after she realizes how sweet you really were, she’ll make you feel all better. Cooing over you as much as she ever allows herself to coo. Cleaning your cuts. Healing you with her magic. Trying to ease the fever that always comes whenever she uses your bond in a way she shouldn’t. She thinks you’re the stupidest, sweetest thing. You’re witches. You don’t have to use your fists anymore to win fights. She leaves you with the coven and goes to enact a witch’s vengeance on whoever dared to lay a finger on you. 

Jennifer Check - You’ll try not to tell her but she immediately starts making such wild accusations you have to just come out and admit to why you’re injured. “I can smell someone on you. If you wanted to get beat up to get your rocks off you should’ve just told me, I’d happily beat the shit out of you.” Start talking quickly! She looks like she’s about to start fulfilling that nonexistent wish now. Once you tell her she has to suppress a smile. She’s a demon. She doesn’t need you playing knight in shining armor over what some jealous, mouth-breathing, loser is saying about her… but, it’s kinda hot that you did. She’ll show you just how hot she thinks it is. Then you two are gonna take a nice little drive, and you’re gonna point out the jackass who put bruises on you. She’ll fuck you again after she’s full. “Thanks for finding my next meal, baby.” 

Victoria Neuman - Victoria expects you to have better self control than this. Not telling her what happened isn’t an option. Ever. The look on her face when you first try and insist that nothing happened is enough for you to quietly admit you got into a fight. Her blood pressure sky-rockets. You two have an image to maintain. You’re her spouse. She has enough problems as it is. She’s thinking of viral videos, nightly news, seedy gossip magazines doing think-pieces: do we really want this person standing behind the president as first spouse? When you tell her you fought one of the Boys for trying to convince you she’s a monster? Well…. She goes a little softer. Victoria will pull you into the circle of her arms and thank you for being so loyal to her. She means it from the bottom of her heart. She’s also dreaming of the day she can pop their fucking heads. Touching you. Talking to you. Trying to turn you against her… they’ve crossed her last line. 

Carrie White - The moment she sees you she’s in hysterics: “Oh, Angel, what happened?!” You’re really gonna sit there and not tell her anything? She’s worked herself into an anxiety attack within seconds. She can hardly open the first aid kit, she’s shaking so bad. The sound of your voice is always so soothing for her that you’ll start telling her the story just to have something to say. She listens quietly while she cleans you up. You’ll have to pull her into your lap before long, and kiss her gently. You’re all she has in the world and it scares her to death to think of you putting yourself in unnecessary danger. You’ll fall asleep curled into each other’s arms. You whisper soft reassurances: “Nothing’s gonna happen to me / I’ll always be here.” Carrie tries her best to listen. You’ll wake up alone, but wander downstairs just as Carrie walks through the front door. She wanted to get her knight in shining armor some breakfast from your favorite diner down the street. She watches you eat with a big smile, and thinks about how she’ll have to burn those clothes in the trunk of the car. She couldn't risk them trying to hurt you again.

Ginger Fitzgerald - Don’t piss her off. If you don’t tell her exactly who touched you she’ll rip the entire city apart. Women, children, men, everyone. Anyone. “Do you want me to do that? Huh, baby? Is that what you want me to do?” No? Then start talking. She won’t be able to see through the blood-lust long enough to take care of you. As soon as you say a name Ginger’s out the door. She’ll only return once she’s thoroughly covered in viscera and gore. She’s still dripping with it when she crawls into bed with you, smearing the blood across your body. She’ll lick at any injury you have, until they’re clean and closed, your skin smooth and unblemished. She’s the only thing that can leave marks on you. She’ll kill anything else that tries. “You don’t have to lift a finger for me, baby. If you want someone hurt, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything for you.” Just run your fingers through her hair and try not to cringe as your fingertips get stained red. 

Patricia (Split) - She’s devastated by the state you come home in after she allows you to go out on a walk all by yourself for the first time since you were…. taken. You’d been so good for her. So obedient. So sweet. She wanted to reward you. And now your eye is starting to bruise, and your clothes are all askew, and your knuckles are swollen. Her calm demeanor cracks, and it’s a struggle to stay in the light. She takes deep breaths, centers herself. None of the others are what you need, right now. You need her. She strips you down, runs you a bath, won’t even let you hold the washcloth. It’s only as she’s patting you dry that she can force out words, finally: “What happened to you, sweet thing, hmm?” The guilt nearly brings her to tears. Months of keeping you close and look at what just a pinch of negligence has done to you… You try to assuage her guilt. You tell her you ran into a neighbor, who’d seen the two of you out together once Patricia trusted you enough to accompany her for little things like grocery trips. You say it’s your fault you came back to her in this condition. That you just couldn’t stand the vile things they said about her. Her face drops into an expression you’ve never seen. It’s gone in an instant, replaced by that comforting, ever present smile she wears for you. She takes you by the chin and kisses your forehead: “My little sweet thing. Playing knight, are you?” You had her love before. Tentatively, you had something like trust. Now Patricia trusts you completely. Even so, you won’t be going out alone again. Patricia trusts you. But it’s clear she can’t trust the world to be gentle with you. Don’t worry, though. All you need to do is ask, when you want to feel the sun on your face. You never see that neighbor again, no matter what time of day you and Patricia go walking.

A/N: thank you!!! we need more batshit crazy women with something wrong with them! Batshit crazy women with something wrong with them unite! if you enjoyed these headcanons consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writer's fuel is engagement. Xoxoxo