#that selection sucks ass let me tell you

[danganronpa-rejuvenation]

Since I've gotten back into Just Dance recently, what better way of tying one fixation into another by associating each Rejuvenation member with what routines fit their dance styles the best?

Also wouldn't it be crazy if I added the sequel characters here as well despite me not introducing them yet? Haha, only an insane person would do that-

[munsonson]

Untitled

Note(s): 18+ ONLY, Minors DNI, AFAB!Reader x Eddie Munson, SEX, Filthy Dialogue, Even Filthier Descriptive Lingo, Kind of Public Sex

"Pl-Please," you beg, your breasts heaving underneath you as he presses you harder into the shelf cluttered with cleaning supplies and filthy rags. Your hands find purchase on the shelf right underneath the first, occupied instead with storage bins and mop heads you accidentally knocked to the floor as the two of you moved in messy tandem. You let out a little squeak at a particularly harsh thrust that had you seeing stars.

He had your skirt bunched up against your lower back, clutched in his ringed fist as he bucked his hips furiously into yours, sure that the denim of his jeans he'd pulled down just below his cock were going to give your legs a searing burn, but you loved it. He had his face buried in your hair while his free hand gripped the shelf you were unwillingly resting your cheek on.

"God, so fucking wet," he snarls, almost in disgust, but you knew for a fact that wasn't true. He loved how wet you got for him, that you were practically swimming in your thin panties at just the thought of being bent over by him. "You hear that?" You do, the sickening squelch of his cock moving in and out of your abused hole the only other noise emitting from this damned janitor's closet aside from your quiet moans and his animalistic growls and grunts.

"So mad at you," Eddie sneers, and he's thrusting harder now if it were possible, his hips smacking into yours, so sure his balls were hitting your clit with every impact. "Why him, huh? Why'd you choose h-him? FUCK!"

You yelp as he grabs a fistful of your hair and drags your head back enough for him to suck dark, unforgiving marks into your throat. You knew now what had gotten him so worked up. In Biology, when called upon by your teacher, you'd selected a kid named Brian as your partner. He was top of the class, someone you were sure would help you get an A. You didn't think Eddie would take it in such a way but you were so glad he did.

"Eddieee, I...OOH!"

He'd taken his hand previously holding your skirt and instead began furiously rubbing little circles into your clit as he began to lose rhythm, getting too close to the end. Too soon. He didn't want this to end so soon, but how could he last in a pussy like yours? You felt so heavenly, he'd tell you. So tight and so warm and so fucking inviting. Any guy would kill to fuck your pussy but only he was allowed to, only Eddie, the freak of Hawkins.

"Fuck, fuck, hnnngh," he groans, emptying himself in you just as you climaxed from his fingers rubbing your clit. "You're gonna tell the teacher tomorrow you wanna switch partners."

"Maybe," you said instead, grinning at him, your throat already littered with purple marks. "Brian's gonna get me my A that I need to bring me my grade up. You barely attend the class as is."

"Teacher ain't got shit I'm interested in hearing." Eddie confesses, breathless as he pulls his pants back up over his hips, assisting you in pulling your panties back up your shaking thighs, giving your ass a sharp tap with his palm. "But if you want an A, I'll give you one. But come tomorrow, Brian's looking for someone else to partner up with. Or I'm not letting you cum."

And you knew he meant it.

[phant0mth1ef]

bakugou x blunt business course reader hcs / let me know if you guys want little drabbles of this!!

- usually business course students wanted to create their own companies, but there were a select few like you and some others that agreed to take on the challenge of trying to market heroes as approachable and attractive!

- he’s known your name since first year due to your placement in the sports’ festival, honestly with your quirk he was surprised you didn’t take the hero track. anyways his nickname for you was “wasted potential business course extra.”

- the first time he actually talked to you was in second year when the teachers had told the hero course students to get more invested with those in the business course, stating that one day they’d be in charge of each and every career.

- was a pain in the ass when he first met you, like he literally sucked and you dreaded every meeting.

“hello… bakugou?” you said skimming down the list of potential heroes you were supposed to meet with.

“yeah, what?” you knew getting people to like him was going to be even harder than getting people to like another client of yours, monoma.

“don’t take that tone with me, i’m basically launching your career.” you typed away on your laptop as the boy sulked in a chair, listening to everything you said.

“as i was saying, marketing yourself in a way similar to best jeanist can have either a good outcome, they’ll approve of you. or a bad outcome, they’ll call you a copycat.”

“tch.” so he ignored your advice and launched his career in a way similar to the pro hero’s and ended up getting insane backlash to the point where you had to step in and try to completely rebrand him.

eventually you got people to start referring to him as the blast hero.

“people are calling me blasty boy.”

“wow. that’s really unfortunate for you! anyways, what’s your height? this company wants to interview you for their tall men friendly jeans.”

- hated meeting with you because of how blunt and honest you were, but also grew to like you because whenever you complimented him, he knew you were genuine.

- would try to blow off meetings just for you to find him and drag him back to the business course meeting rooms, your quirk was something similar to blackwhip so he couldn’t ever really get out of your hold.

- once he realized how popular he was quickly getting thanks to you, he started to actually value the time you’d been putting into making him an admirable hero, but he couldn’t say the same for monoma who, no matter what you did, could not be saved in the publicity department.

- would never thank you, at least not directly.

“i guess this is where we part ways.” you told him at your last meeting before graduation.

“… i guess so. 🧍🏻 thanksorwhatever.” he spoke fast, as if he’d run out of words before leaving.

- even though he said he hated you on countless occasions, he couldn’t deny that he’d begun to miss you when you weren’t around. going so far as to find your contact and call you up once he started his own agency.

“you want me so bad.” you said as you walked in, your briefcase in hand as you shoved the boy to the side, headed up to your new office.

“no i don’t! just need help. s’all!” he was so easy to piss off it was so funny.

- you made him take modeling gigs when his approval ratings were low.

- one time you both went to grab dinner and people assumed you were on a date and you guys just never corrected them and continued to do stuff like that.

- eventually you fell into a routine, and although he never explicitly asked you out, you’d moved into his apartment, did couple things like kiss and stuff, and were always around each other.

- even he thought you were dating until you got interviewed once.

“a boyfriend?… no.” you were so oblivious it was crazy, he had to tell you afterwards that he thought you were his girlfriend.

“WE’RE DATING?” you were completely shocked and he just stood like like a statue.

“YOU DIDN’T KNOW?!”

[waughymommy]

MOMMY KNOWS BEST

Chapter 4 (last chapter, THANKS FOR READING AND THE ENCOURAGEMENT..)

            Sunday dawned and Rebecca stirred. She looked over at her baby and smiled, “Good morning cutie pie.” She tickled his belly. “How did my baby sleep?”

            “I swept otay,” Brian lisped around the pacifier in his mouth. He was getting a little more comfortable with her seeing him acting a little more childish. But in the back of his mind, he was still waiting for this to all bite him in the ass. Was she really serious about me using my diapers? What if his friends or family found out, or worse his coworkers? He spit out his pacifier and sat and jumped out of bed.

            “Where are you going Brian?” Rebecca asked.

            “I have to go take a piss, sweetheart….” he quickly realized his mistake. “Mommy, I’m sorry mommy. Please don’t spank me.”

            “I’ll let it slide this time mister. But call for me when you are done going pee-pee and mommy will help you get dressed for the day.”

            This was going to take a lot of getting used to, “Ok.” He flushed and made his way back into the bedroom.

            “I didn’t hear you wash your hands. You aren’t a total baby yet. Turn around and wash your hands now,” Rebecca said in a tone suggesting he had better do as she said.

            “Sorry mommy.” He washed up and returned, but this time he came back to her holding up a pull up. He stopped dead in his tracks. He didn’t see anyway in getting out of this.

            “I know we talked about diapers last night, but I’m still working on getting all the things my baby needs. So for now, I want you to wear this pull up. It’s very important that if you need to go potty you tell me and mommy will take you, ok?” Rebecca knew all too well that his embarrassment and frankly, his stubbornness, would make it difficult for him to ask. Would he be so childish and wet his pull up just so he didn’t have to ask? The thought of him losing control and helplessly wetting like a baby sent a chill down her body. “Ok, step in and then we will get you dressed.”

            Brian complied, stepping into the pull and she quickly pulled them up to his waist. She selected a pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt and got him dressed for the day. He felt so small having her do this for him. As embarrassing as it was, it felt so good too. After putting on his socks and shoes, she clipped his pacifier to his shirt. “You better not remove this. Now move that butt to the living room. Mommy will let you watch tv while I get myself dressed. And then after that we will be going out. Mommy wants to go shopping.”

Brian plopped himself down on the couch, “Can I watch the news?”

            “Absolutely not. That is not for babies,” she flipped through the channels. “Oh look, Bubble Guppies. Let’s watch that. And Brian, you need to sit on the floor. I would hate for my baby to fall off the couch and get hurt.”

            This felt absolutely ridiculous. For a moment, he considered protesting, but remembered the spanking he had the day before. He slid down from the couch onto the floor. He could feel the padding of the pull up. Although he had always wanted to be a baby, it had always been so hard to shut off his adult thoughts. He loved the idea of watching these childish shows, but his adult brain prevented him from really enjoying. He heard his wife doing something in the kitchen. She returned a moment later with a sippy cup in hand.

            She extended the cup to her husband, “Now I want baby to drink his apple juice. It better be all gone by the time I finish getting dressed. I think you know what will happen if you don’t.” Brian accepted the sip with both hands and brought it to his mouth. He started sucking and soon he tasted the sweet juice. He turned his attention back to the television. Maybe it was the bright colors or the rhythmic sucking on the sippy cup, but Brian felt a wave a childish pleasure sweep over him. He found himself enthralled with the show and lost all track of time.

            Rebecca finished getting ready and walked out to check on Brian. She paused when she saw him in his trance, so sweetly watching tv. She walked over and placed her hand on his shoulder. Her touch startled him and he broke out of his trance. “I’m so proud of my baby,” she cooed. “Is my baby ready to go?” She took the sippy cup from him and put his pacifier in. The pleasurable feeling coursed through him again and he let her guide him out the door and into the car. He started to open the door to the front seat. “Silly baby, you are far too little to sit up in the front seat.” She ushered him into the back seat and buckled him in. She made a mental note to research car seats. She produced another sippy cup and instructed him to finish this one. What Brian failed to notice was the diaper bag Rebecca placed in the passenger seat. She adjusted her mirror, “Is my baby hungry?”

Thank you all for reading from chapter 1 and if you haven't read chapter 1, please go to my page and read for Fantasy and enjoy all...

REMEMBER, BE SPECIAL, BECAUSE EVERY BABY IS SPECIAL ❤️❤️💖💖🍼😘..

[thoseboysinblue]

Two Can Play

Mason Mount x reader

After he's teased you all day, you decide to give Mason a taste of his own medicine.

Word Count: 2500+

Requested: No

Warnings: Smut, swearing, teasing (under 18 DNI)

A/N: This is the first time I've written for Mason and to be quite honest, I'm a bit nervous. Feedback always appreciated.

"Fuck, Mason," you whimper, "I'm gonna..." you trail off as he presses his lips to yours, swallowing your moans and trying to keep you quiet.

"No you're not, pretty girl, not yet," he chuckles against your lips as he quickly withdraws his fingers from you after edging you yet again. You let out a frustrated sigh when he slips his fingers into his mouth, licking and sucking them clean.

"Do you hate me?" you groan dropping your head against his shoulder as he kisses your temple.

"No, sweetheart, I couldn't love you more," he smiles innocently at you.

"Then why all the teasing?" you huff at him.

"Simple, it's fun," he chuckles back.

"Fun for you maybe," you grumble as you slide your hands down your body, smoothing the fabric of the dress you are supposed to be trying on.

"You're definitely getting this one," he says leaning back to take in your appearance as his hands slide around to cup your ass.

"What else is on the list to buy?" he questions you as he pushes the door to the dressing room open nonchalantly as if he didn't just have you on the brink of an orgasm few minutes ago.

"Maybe one or two more dresses, a couple of casual outfits, new bathing suits," you ramble through the list in your head of new things you need before your trip, his ears pricking at the mention of bikinis.

"I'm not letting you see me try those on though," you smile sweetly at him as he pouts his lips out.

He intertwines his fingers with yours as you select a few pieces of jewelry that will compliment your outfits and make your way to the register to pay. Once outside, he takes your bag from you as you continue wandering down the sidewalk towards another shop.

"I'm so ready for our trip, some sun, being lazy on the beach and by the pool, not being lazy in the villa," he winks at you.

"Keep up this teasing act and it's just gonna be you and your hand in that villa," you look at him with a stern expression on your face, trying not to crack a smile.

"I think you like the teasing, in fact, I know you like the teasing," he says back to you, noticing the way your cheeks flush.

Spending your days with Mason is as easy as breathing. You love that he just wants to be with you and doesn't seem to mind if that means shopping or finishing a million little errands to get ready for your trip. He happily sat with you while you got your nails done, holding an iced coffee out for you to sip on in the process, and watched as you agonized over the smallest details from shoes to clothes to jewelry to packing cubes.

You sent him down the way to a men's clothing shop while you nipped into a small boutique to grab a few new swimsuits and coverups and then to the shop next door to pick up a few new pieces of lingerie as a surprise. When you rejoin him, he offers to hold the new bags but you tell him they are full of secrets and keep them firmly in your grip while you peruse through the stack of items he intends to buy for himself.

As you hop back into his car, he slides his hand up your thigh, and you immediately clamp your hand down over his, "no, you can't touch me unless I get to finish," you arch and eyebrow at him.

"Well maybe I was going to this time," he laughs as he shifts the car into gear and backs out of the parking space.

"Oh, like you let me finish this morning in the kitchen, or in the car on the way here, or in that elevator, or the changing room" you smirk at him.

"Baby, I promise as soon as we get home, you will be taken care of," he winks at you, your thighs pressing together in anticipation.

Mason was always good to you, he made sure you were taken care of in every way imaginable, even if he did like to tease you sometimes.

Once home, he pulls you through the door and drops the shopping bags to the marble tiled floor, practically dragging you towards the stairs before turning you around and pushing you down so that you are seated a few steps above him.

"I owe you something," he growls at you, his pupils blown out as he settles between your legs, quickly removing your panties and dragging your legs over his shoulders. He pushes the sundress you are wearing over your hips to allow him better access to you as he kisses the insides of your thighs.

"Promise you'll let me finish this time," you say as you thread your fingers through his hair. "I promise baby, no more games," he says his breath fanning across your pussy.

You let out a small gasp when he dips his tongue into your entrance and licks up to your clit, flattening his tongue out before drawing the sensitive bud between his lips and sucking lightly. He chuckles when your hips buck towards his face and you tug at his hair, sending a shockwave to your core.

He slides two fingers into you, feeling the way you instantly clench around them as he continues to flick over your clit with his tongue. "So wet, baby" he moans against you drawing a strangled moan from you.

"Mase, please don't stop," you pant out, not even slightly embarrassed that you're already so close to an orgasm considering the number of times you've been edged today.

"Oh, I'm not stopping baby, not until you are cumming all over my fingers and face," he smirks up at you as he curls his fingers expertly against your g-spot and dips his head to suck over your clit again, his free hand coming up to stroke your left nipple over the thin material of your dress and lace bra.

You feel your walls continue to flutter as he's working you from both the inside and outside, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. A quiet moan escapes you as he hums against you, "come on baby, you're right there, I can feel it, just let go for me."

With that, your back arches as your eyes close and your head falls backwards on the soft carpet of the stairs when the orgasm you've been craving all day surges through you with a whimper of his name. He slows his movements to help you through it until your legs try to clamp shut around his head and you let out a giggle as you try to get away from him and avoid any more overstimulation.

He looks up at you from between your legs with a smug grin on his face, "that was quick," he winks at you as he withdraws his fingers and offers them to you for you to lick clean. He lets out a groan as you suck them into your mouth before sitting up to crash your lips to his.

You pull away from him, both of you out of breath as you softly smack him on the chest with the back of your hand, "I don't say anything to you when your a little quick on the trigger, so maybe you should learn to keep your mouth shut," you laugh at him quietly.

"Baby, we both know how much you love this mouth, especially this tongue," he chides you as his tongue darts out of his mouth to lick over his lips, wiping the rest of your juices from his face with the back of his hand.

"You're getting far too cocky," you grin at him. "Am I?", he moves to press a light kiss to your lips, before pressing his hardened length into the inside of your thigh, "speaking of cocks" he grins, raising his eyebrows at you.

You place a hand on his chest and push him away slightly, "go to the couch, I'll be back in a minute," you whisper against his lips.

He hops up and quickly moves to the couch as you disappear upstairs. You return a few minutes later to find him leaning back against the cushions, his feet flat on the floor, clad only in his boxers as he lazily strokes over his hardened bulge.

"Did I say you could start without me?" you arch an eyebrow at him while he eyes you curiously.

"What's in your hand?" he asks, watching as you approach him.

"Something for me to have a little fun with," you grin against his lips, taking the vibrator you're holding and turning it on as you circle it around his nipple.

"What are you going to do with that?" he laughs a bit nervously as you trail it down his body watching as he erupts with goosebumps and his hairs stand on end.

"You'll see" you smirk against his chest as you follow behind the vibrator with your tongue.

You slide his boxers down his legs, throwing them to the side and dragging the toy across his inner thigh. Watching the way his muscles tense nearly causes you to abandon your plans so that you can ride his thigh, but you continue with your teasing, determined to give him taste of his own medicine.

"Relax Mase," you breathe out "I'm not gonna stick it in your ass or anything" you chuckle as you hear him let out a relieved breath.

He lets out a groan as you wrap your hand around his hardened cock, eyes burning into yours as he waits for your next move. You pump your hand up and down him a couple of times, flattening your tongue against his slit to collect the precum that already started leaking.

He bucks his hips as you swirl your tongue around his tip before taking the vibrator and gliding it along his length, smirking when you hear him gasp.

You still the movements of your hand, holding him in place while you tease the vibrator around the head of his cock. "Baby" he whines, wanting nothing more than to feel your mouth around him. "What's wrong, Mase? Don't like being teased?" you chuckle at him, your face close enough to his cock that he can feel your breath over it.

"I need your mouth, y/n, please," he grunts out watching as you lick a stripe from his base to his tip, continuing to work the vibrator against him.

"Not yet, pretty boy," you mimic his words from earlier in the day, noticing the way his eyes close and his jaw tenses. You alternate the pressure of your hand and vibrator between firm tugs and light teasing touches until he's squirming beneath you, his cock twitching in your hand.

He whispers your name like prayer saying "please baby, please, I need it."

"See, Mase, teasing isn't so much fun when all you want to do is cum," you smile at him smugly, continuing your movements with the vibrator watching as he lifts his head and makes eye contact with you, his eyes pleading with yours.

You finally give in and wrap your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around it. You feel him tense to keep from bucking up into your mouth as he lets out a faint moan.

"Fuck me," he whimpers as you take more of him into your mouth, sliding the vibrator down to his balls.

"I'm planning on it," you say as you pull off of him, dropping a pool of spit down his length and working him with your hand before taking him back into your mouth. He weaves a hand into your hair as he steadies your movements, "come on baby, you can take more than that," he grunts as you relax your jaw taking in more of him until you are gagging and sputtering as his tip hits the back of your throat.

He slides a hand around your throat, letting out a groan as you press your nose to his pubic bone. "I swear I can feel my dick in your throat," he says as he gives it a light squeeze.

You feel him twitch in your mouth, before he reaches down and pulls you off of him, grabbing the vibrator from your hand and pulling you to straddle him in one swift move. "I know you want me to fill you up, y/n," he whispers against your neck as he pulls your dress up and over your head, quickly stripping your bra off of you as well.

He wraps his mouth around one of your nipples as he glides the vibrator over your already sensitive clit. You let out low moan as he grazes his teeth over your other nipple before dropping his head to leave a hickey just below your breast.

You reach around to grab his cock, lining it up with your entrance, "already dripping for me baby," he sighs when he feels how wet you are. You sink down on him, loving the way he stretches you so perfectly.

"Fuck, y/n," he moans as he grips onto your hip with one hand, the other holding the vibrator over your clit as you clench around him when you start to move.

He throws his head back on the sofa cushions watching the way your tits bounce with every movement. "That's a view I'll never get tired of" he chuckles before you lean down to press a searing kiss to his lips.

He begins to thrust up into you, meeting your movements until you are both reduced to nothing but moans of each others names and a variety of curse words and praises.

"Baby, I'm gonna cum, you close?" he grunts out, sitting up slightly and holding you closer to him. "Yes, fuck, I'm close," you pant.

"Come on then, cum with me, y/n, let me have it," he says as his movements become sloppy and you grind yourself down onto him one last time.

"That's it, be my good girl, fuck, fuck, baby," he groans as your high washes over you and you bury your face into his neck, bringing on his own release as he drops the vibrator and grips both of your hips tight enough that you are sure you will have bruises.

"Jesus Christ, y/n" he says breathlessly as you place a few delicate kisses to his neck while both of you come down from your highs.

"Mmm hmmm" is all you can manage to get out while he trails his fingertips along your spine.

"You're incredible, you know that?" he says as you nod, your head resting against his shoulder.

"You're not too bad yourself," you giggle as you sit up, taking in his love drunk expression before kissing over the bridge of his nose. "I like the way your nose gets all red when you're working hard," you wink at him.

"This is definitely coming on the trip with us," he chuckles as he dangles the vibrator from his hand.

"Oh really?" you smile playfully at him.

"Definitely," he grins back at you as you stand up and quickly escape to the bathroom to clean up shouting over your shoulder, "two can play the teasing game, Mase, you should remember that."

Tag List:

@neverinadream @lovelynikol16 @chilwellspulisic @swimmingismywholelife

[27dragons]

Countdown to 2025: Dec 13

Convenience Store AU / Marvel - Stuckony / Candy Cane

Steve was cleaning out the hot dog machine when the door bells gave a startled jangle and a man burst into the store.

“Please tell me you’ve got candy canes,” he said. He wasn’t even looking at anyone, already racing down the aisles, his head on a frantic swivel.

Steve straightened up, bemused. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard of a candy cane emergency,” he observed.

The guy glanced at Steve, then did a double-take. “Holy shit, are you real?”

Steve chuckled. “Most of the time.” He could’ve asked the same, to be honest; the guy was Steve’s age or maybe a little older, with adorably tousled dark hair and wide whiskey-colored eyes, and Steve couldn’t help but notice, when he turned to resume his search, an ass that wouldn’t quit.

“Look, there’s this guy,” the man said, when he was coming back up Aisle 3.

“There’s always a guy,” Steve agreed amiably, stripping off the cleaning gloves and leaning on the counter with amusement.

“Ain’t that the truth? Anyway, he’s the hottest thing I’ve seen in at least a month--” He paused, looking back over at Steve. “--though you could give him a run for the money. Anyway, I’m going to ask him out, but I need a candy cane.”

“That’s where you’ve lost me. What’s the candy cane for?”

The man grinned. “First, because I’m going to let him watch me lick and suck it for a while before I slide in to talk to him. My oral skills need to be seen to be believed.”

Steve snorted.

“And second, because when he agrees and I go for a kiss, my breath will be nice and fresh!” He spread his hands in a “ta-daa” sort of gesture.

“Yeah, okay,” Steve agreed. “You sure this guy swings your way?”

“I mean, he’s working at a hipster coffee shop and has a Pride pin on his apron, so I think my odds are pretty good.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed. “The coffee shop on the corner?” he asked, waving carelessly toward the end of the block.

“Yeah! You know it?”

“Yep.” Steve ducked out from behind the counter and went to the display beside the slushie machine. He selected one of the giant novelty candy-canes, the ones that were bigger around than Steve’s thumb, and held it up. “How about this one?”

The man’s eyes got even wider. “That’s perfect! You’re a life saver!” He rushed toward the counter, pulling out his wallet.

“Hey, no problem,” Steve said. He rang the guy up and smiled when the whole fistful of change went into the charity jar for the local homeless shelter.

As soon as the door bells gave their disconcerted jangle, Steve fished his phone out of his pocket and texted Bucky.

Incoming heartthrob. Get him to stick around. I’ll come over after my shift and we can see how he feels about a 3some?

[joecooperzz]

office pet (matt stone x fem!reader x trey parker)

This explicit story was written by an adult for consumption by other adults only. If you are under 18, please do not read or interact in any way.

Hope you enjoy.

Word count: 3,265

Content: dubious consent, established poly, roleplaying hella toxic dynamics, vaginal fingering, spanking, jealousy, mentions of Trey's corruption kink, desk/office sex, gagging

-

“You fucking worship the ground he walks on, don't you?”

Tears prick your eyes as Matt's hand comes down hard against your ass, leaving your back arching, as though you were inviting more of his touch.

He snorts at the needy gesture. “Oh, no,” he says sternly. “Don't give me that. Not after what you just said.”

You try to fight back the whimper of disappointment that's begging to climb up your throat.

It was an honest mistake, really, it was. Just a little slip-up.

Matt had teased you this morning before the two of you were due to show up at the studio for work. He woke you up by crawling between your legs and spreading you wide open, licking and sucking and teasing until you were a shaking, dripping mess against his mouth.

Then he slapped your thigh, pulling away and wiping his mouth. “Go get the coffee,” he ordered.

Your stomach sank, still feeling that needy thrum between your legs. “What?” you squeaked out.

He huffed out a chuckle. “Did I stutter, sweetheart?” He stood up from the foot of the bed and headed over to the closet, pulling his shirt over his head on the way. You watched incredulously as he dressed himself for the day ahead, as though nothing ever happened. “You know what everybody likes. Go get the coffee, like a good little office pet.”

You couldn't tell what was worse, — the humiliation of being reduced in such a way, or the needy ache in your pussy. Whatever the case, you couldn't find it in yourself to argue, nodding as you stood up to make yourself presentable.

You didn't even question it when he handed you your clothes for the day, — he'd selected them for you before he selected his own. You put on the outfit, allowing him to inspect it to make sure it was to his liking before you headed out the door, towards the nearest Starbucks.

A good little office pet, indeed.

Unfortunately, you've been a needy mess ever since then. Once Matt went on his lunch break, he put Anne back at the front desk for the time being and pulled you into his office, creating the illusion that he might finally bring you some relief after half a day's worth of torture.

But he doesn't. Of course he doesn't.

He just teases you more, working you up to the very edge, again and again, before pulling away, chuckling at your anguished squirming as he slaps the back of your thigh.

Who could really blame you for having those words slip out in your frustration?

Apparently, Matt could.

“Trey wouldn't do this to me,” you spat as he pulled away, leaving you clenching around nothing again.

The room went deadly silent, causing your heart to drop.

“What did you just say?” Matt finally asked, his voice low, dangerous.

At this point, you knew that the words you let slip would get you into a world of trouble. Then again, you also knew that he wouldn't leave you alone until you repeated them.

You took a deep breath and steeled yourself, — as much as you could, anyway, laying on your belly over his desk, pussy wet and skirt pulled over your ass.

“I said,” you started, “that Trey wouldn't do this to me.”

It wasn't that your other boss couldn't be sadistic to you, — he could. Many a time, he’s called you into his office when writer's block or censor requests put him in a particularly foul mood, just to immediately fist his hand in your hair and push you to your knees in front of him, demanding you to suck. He'd also been known to dole out his own spankings, not stopping until your ass was on fire and you were wiggling restlessly on his lap.

But he didn't tease like this. He gave you what you needed, — or what he needed, — without hesitation or preamble. Then, when it was all over, he quickly put you back together, — brushing away your tears and tucking your hair back into place before sending you back to the front desk with a kiss on the forehead.

He didn't play with you like Matt, didn't torture you this way. In the moment, that had you aching for him unlike anything else.

It also put you in deep trouble with the man who was currently toying with you.

Without warning, two large fingers shove deep into your pussy, completely devoid of gentleness. You gasp, bucking against the desk as Matt's fingers curl against that sensitive spot inside you that always drives you wild. He presses his free hand against your lower back, shoving you down.

“Mmm-mmm,” he hums casually. “Don't move.”

You whimper again. His fingers dig into the skin of your back in return.

“Stop whining or I'll fucking gag you,” he warns. He lifts his hand off your back only to dig in his jean pockets. Soon enough, he comes up with a strip of soaked black lace. The panties he picked out for you this morning.

He holds them up for you to look at. “See?”

You close your eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath as you relax against the desk.

He huffs out a dry laugh. “Good slut.”

It's barely praise at all, but it has your teeth digging into the bottom of your lip as your pussy throbs.

He curls his fingers up into you then, making a come-hither motion against your G-spot. You bite down on your lip until you're afraid your teeth might go through it, feeling yourself clench around his fingers.

“What?” Matt demands, curling his fingers upwards yet again. “Are you squeezing my fingers, imagining it was him?”

“N—” Your denial is cut short by another harsh press, leaving you turning to bury your face into your arm, sobbing out a moan.

Matt sighs and pulls his fingers out of you. “Alright. I warned you.” He stands up, walking around the desk to look down at your face.

He reaches out, gently pulling your lip from between your teeth with his thumb. You look up at him, pleading with your eyes.

Of course, that doesn't work. It seldom ever does with him.

He keeps his thumb pressed against your bottom lip, tugging at it slightly. “Open,” he orders.

Like a good office pet, you do.

Before you can register just what happened, he shoves your panties into your mouth, just as he warned that he would.

He steps back, letting out an amused hum of the sight before him. You, utterly debauched, with your own underwear in your mouth and his best friend's cock on your mind.

“Pretty whore,” he murmurs before settling back behind you and working those same two fingers back in. “You taste yourself, pet?”

You hum a response around the panties.

He laughs. “Yeah.” He thrusts his fingers in and out roughly, causing you to gasp.

“That sweet little pussy is why I keep your disloyal ass around.” His free hand comes down hard against your ass, causing you to squeal against the wet fabric. He pauses, rubbing the spot he just struck. “This isn't so bad, either.”

You lay there in shaky anticipation as he strokes your skin almost tenderly, waiting for the next blow. It doesn't come.

Not yet, anyway.

Instead, he gives you a command in a surprisingly soft voice. “Spit the gag out,” he says quietly. “I want to ask you something.”

You adjust yourself the best that you can in your position, propping yourself up on the opposite elbow as you reach to pull the panties out of your mouth. Once you can speak again, you offer a tentative question. “Yes, sir?”

“Respect. I like it.” He chuckles, continuing to stroke your aching ass. “Does he touch you like this, pet? Tell me the truth.”

His voice is so much gentler than earlier. Though your gut screams that it's a trick, something about the tenderness makes you succumb as you find yourself steadily slipping into subspace. “Yes, sir,” you confirm quietly, fighting the urge to melt into his touch. “He does.”

“I see.” He keeps petting you, seeming to consider something. “Is that why you want him so bad right now, hmm? Because he's easy with you?” His thumb brushes across your angry skin, making you shiver. “Tender?”

You find yourself chewing on your lip again. “Yes, sir,” you murmur.

“Mmm-hmm.” He continues his idle ministrations. “And if you walked into his office like this, — all debauched and needy, — what would he do?”

You take a shaking breath, shamefully feeling yourself grow wetter at the mere idea. “He'd make me lock the door,” you begin with a shaking voice.

“Uh-huh,” Matt says attentively. He gives you a sudden, but not particularly rough, swat. “How decent of him, not wanting the rest of the office to see this ass.”

Your face grows hot, but you continue with a swallow. “Then he'd get his cock out, and tell me to come sit in his lap…”

Matt gives a mean chuckle. “Oh, of course he would,” he says, voice dripping venom. “Have you come sit in his lap… Jesus. He's always been so into the whole good girl thing, that fucking pervert.” His thumb brushes over your pussy lips, eliciting a gasp. “I bet every time he pushes into this tight little pussy, he imagines that it's the first time. Bet he wishes he could fuck you until you bleed, just like some innocent little virgin who just got her cherry popped by a sleazy, rich bastard. Bet he sometimes closes his eyes sometimes while you're all over him and pretends you're one of his naive Mormon girls from back home, rather than our little office slut who's always begging for cock, day in and day out.” He pulls his thumb back, laughing at the way your wetness coats the pad of it. “Don't you think so, pet?”

He doesn't give you time to answer his question before he's parting your folds, beginning to run over you again, up and down. “Keep talking,” he says. “Tell me what he'd do.”

You draw in a shaky breath, trying to erase his prior statement from your mind. Surely, Trey doesn't pretend you're somebody else when he's deep inside you, your nails digging into his shoulders as you whisper pleas into his ear. Surely not, right?

You tell yourself to snap out of it as you keep talking.

“Then, he'd lift my skirt, and pull my panties aside,” you breathe.

“And would he rub your sweet little pussy like this?” Matt interjects, his thumb slipping upwards to find your clit and rub slow circles against it.

You gasp. “Yes, sir,” you moan shakily. “Yes, sir. He would.”

Matt laughs. “Jesus. I'm surprised he can find it.” He pauses before forming his fingers into a V and spreading you open. “Then again, he must do something right, if you get this wet just talking about him fucking you.” He runs his fingers through the mess you're making, eliciting a needy moan from you. “Does he fuck this little pussy good? Hmm?”

Your throat feels tight with need as you respond. “Yes, sir. He does.”

With that, Matt slips a finger back inside you. You gasp, pushing back on it before you can tell yourself not to. “Do you like his cock?” he demands, keeping his finger still inside you.

“Yes, sir,” you squeak, holding onto the edge of the desk. “I do.”

He begins thrusting in and out, filling the office with the embarrassingly wet sounds of your need. “Better than mine?”

You consider how to answer that one and stay neutral, stay loyal to the both of them. “It's different,” you mutter plaintively.

He smacks your ass again. “Come on, now. None of that middle-of-the-road bullshit,” he spits.

You hiss at the sting. “I'm sorry, sir.”

He doesn't reply to your apology for a moment, simply rubbing your ass with his finger shoved into you, before he speaks up. “Fine. If our little office pet really doesn't pick favorites, I'm sure she'll at least answer objective questions.”

He pauses for effect before asking: “Which one of us is bigger?”

You squeeze your eyes shut.

Bad question.

“He is, sir,” you mutter quietly.

Matt gives a displeased hum. “Gonna need an extra finger, then.” With that, he buries another long finger inside you. You're still adjusting to the sudden invasion when he continues. “In fact, let's make it three.”

He pushes yet another finger into you, the stretch causing more than a bit of discomfort this time. You buck against the table, whining your wordless protests.

He laughs. “What's wrong, baby?” he asks. Without even looking over your shoulder, you can see him, tilting his head in mock innocence. “If you can take Trey's big cock, surely you can take a few fingers.”

He curls them up into you, eliciting a needy whimper from you. “See?” he coos. “That feels good, doesn't it? I know my pet just loves being stretched, doesn't she?”

You give another needy moan in response, pushing back onto his fingers.

Matt laughs. “Yeah, she does.”

Much to your surprise, he leans down, pressing a kiss against the small of your back, his beard tickling your skin. When he pulls back, he continues his barrage of questions.

"And how does he fuck this pussy, baby?” he presses. “Does he do it nice and gentle?” He goes to pull his fingers out before slowly inching them back in, punctuating with a gentle curl against your G-spot. “Or does he give it to you, fast and rough?” He thrusts in and out, quickly. He doesn't let up, filling the room with the sounds of your needy pussy as you struggle to formulate a response.

“It, ah…” You squeeze your eyes shut. “It, mmm… depends…” you pant, feeling your stretched walls squeeze down around him.

Matt groans. “Jesus, you're no help. Maybe the only reason you keep spreading for both of us is because you aren't capable of picking a fucking lane.” With that, he stills his fingers inside you. “Think hard about it, pet. If you walked into Trey's office like this, right now, — shaky, wet, denied, so horny you're about to fucking cry, — how would he fuck you back into working order?”

You think about it for a moment. “He'd be gentle, sir,” you say, your tone almost wistful.

He would be gentle, if a little condescending. He'd fuss over you, praise you for coming to him, for being his good girl, his own personal office slut. He'd run his fingers through your wetness and make you suck it off his fingers as he guided you down onto his cock, helping you ride him as your need climbed higher and higher, rubbing your clit fast towards the end to send you over the edge and sate you for the next few hours until one of them could take you home and use you for the rest of the night.

You can't get the thought out of your mind as Matt sets a slow rhythm with his own fingers, a steady in-and-out. “Like this?” he asks.

“Yes, sir,” you sob out. “Like that.”

With that, he finally shuts his smart, sharp-tongued mouth, focusing completely on fingerfucking you in a way that is so uncharacteristically gentle.

His silence makes it easy for your mind to slip back to Trey, but, no matter how quiet Matt is and how precisely he curls his fingers against your front wall, you can't convince yourself that Trey's the one fucking you.

Still, Matt commands you to as he curls his fingers up against your G-spot, again and again. “Come for him,” he commands.

At first, you think you've heard him wrong, your brain fuzzy from the building of the orgasm you've been denied since this morning, your own moans sounding faraway as they fall upon your ears.

Then, he says it again.

“Come on, baby, come for him,” he urges you. “Come for the man you love. Come for your favorite.”

And then he goes back to being rough, being himself, as he pulls his fingers all the way out and just as soon shoves them back in, immediately curling back up against that spot. Abrasive. Mean. Too much.

“Pretend my fingers are Trey's cock,” he grits out. “And come on them.”

Much to your combined arousal and shame, you do.

You come apart, shaking as you soak his fingers, clenching and unclenching around him almost violently. He doesn't let up as he works you through it, murmuring dirty nothings that your ears are ringing too loudly for you to understand.

Once you've slumped forward on his desk in defeat, he pulls all three of his fingers out. He stands up with a huff, walking around to the front of the desk.

Soon, you're on eye level with his obviously tented jeans. You look up at him, expecting to have to return his favor… if you could even call it that.

He laughs. “Oh, no,” he sneers down at you before palming himself through the denim. “I'm not gonna give you this cock. You probably don't even want it.”

He looks over your debauched form, satisfaction shining in his green eyes.

“Fix your skirt,” he orders, “and come on.”

-

He leads you down the hall, his hand gripping tight on your arm all the while. You have a sinking suspicion of where you're going. Your suspicions are proven correct when he pushes open Trey's office door without so much as knocking.

“You want him so bad? Have him.” He practically shoves you forward into the office before meeting Trey's confused gaze.

“I made her come,” he announces. “But don't worry. I didn't fuck her.” He turns back to you, giving you a wolfish grin. “She’d rather you do that.”

With that, he closes the door. You can hear his heavy footsteps as he heads back up the hall.

You force yourself to meet Trey's eyes, fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. Your fuzzy brain halfway expects anger.

Instead, he smiles softly at you, sliding his chair out from beneath his desk and patting his thigh. “Come here, sweetheart,” he beckons.

He doesn't have to tell you twice before you're wrapping yourself around him.

He chuckles lowly, the sound of it rumbling through you as your chest presses against his. His fingers travel over your back and up into your hair, pushing down errant strands. “Matt's mean, isn't he?” he murmurs into your ear, stroking your hair soothingly.

You nod against his shoulder, allowing yourself to be grounded by a man who didn't even do this to you, — not directly, anyway.

He was there when you planned it, though. The whole elaborate scene. He and Matt had gotten so worked up discussing the specifics that they had treated you to seeing them make out on the couch, gripping at and grinding against one another. It was a wonder the idea ever came to fruition, as many times as the three of you had devolved into fucking while attempting to discuss it.

“Yeah? Did he make a mess of you?” Trey's hand slips up your skirt and touches your bare pussy. It occurs to you that Matt kept your makeshift panty-gag as Trey tentatively rubs you.

“Well, then.” He shifts below you, grinning wickedly, before pointing over to the couch in the corner of his office. “Go lay back on that couch over there, sweetheart,” he tells you. “Let me kiss it better.”

[lyonnerileyauthor]

hitting your writing goals

I've been getting a lot of asks lately about how I write, so I wanted to put it all in one post.

this was my writing history for Five Gifts for the Blacksmith's Wife.

it helps IMMENSELY when I go into a book with a Tumblr short to use as my outline. it gives me a sense of the mood, the characters, the central conflict, everything I need.

I rarely use outlines because most of the time, I have that base to work with. the other thing I do is WRITE A BLURB. write out what it would sound like if you were pitching someone your book.

here's the blurb for Five Gifts:

When her village faces a winter of starvation, Sita draws the shortest straw. Now she’s to be given to the orcs across the river in exchange for food and supplies so her family can survive. Given the chance to choose her own husband from among the eligible orc bachelors, she selects Gurrek, the reluctant blacksmith, who clearly doesn’t want her. He’s the safest option. Gurrek has always wanted a wife of his own, but not like this. Now he’s saddled with a human woman who needs new shoes, new clothes, and can’t even speak his language. He wants nothing to do with her, and yet her sweet, strong personality draws him in closer with every passing day. As Sita and Gurrek try to find a place to fit within each other’s lives, attraction begins to bloom between them. But Gurrek refuses to touch a woman who never wanted to be his in the first place. Can Sita break through the blacksmith’s high walls to become his true wife, mind, body, and soul?

boom! you know where it starts, what the central conflict is, and the question leading into the second half of the book. then I usually have a separate doc called "third act" where I work out what the climax and resolution will look like. this is sometimes when I'll write another little short to capture the tone and vibe of the climax.

okay so the writing part.

you can't wait for your muse to come to you. the more you wait, the less she visits. you have to go out there and chase that bitch down.

I show up almost every day to write. (I do take off days, usually to do admin or make videos.) I just eke out what words I can, even if it sucks ass. eventually, if you really just muscle it, let yourself get EXCITED about the characters and the story you want to tell, the words will start coming. but you can't do it if you don't show up.

I've also trained my brain in some very specific ways. making coffee is my "start" button. when I make coffee and sit down at the desk, I've trained my brain to say "okay writing time." I always make the coffee, then open the doc and write. no exceptions. it took a while to build the habit but now it's like pavlovian. sit down with coffee, write book. I've also adapted this to having a bubbly water or tea at night.

rolling the ball downhill

the goal is to get the ball rolling so the book starts writing itself. you know that feeling, the ZONE, where you know what's going to happen and it just streams out of you.

I use something I call the but-therefore method. stg learned it from a video by the South Park guys.

if you're reading your outline aloud to yourself and you say, "and then this happens," I often find myself running into that and being like "but what?"

every step in the outline should be a but or a therefore. the blacksmith wants a wife, but not this one (a human wife). therefore, he's mean to her because he wanted an orc wife. but, he finds himself growing fond of her because she tries so hard. therefore, he wants to court her. etc etc

this gets me out of all KINDS of pickles. when I run into a roadblock I just try to think of 1) what could get in the way of where they're headed or what they want, 2) what consequences it could have. good time to think about what your character's buttons are and what would push them.

setting goals

goals really help me push through when it's hard. I know it CAN be easy so it's like, how do I find the stream that I can get swept off in? you gotta hunt and hunt around for it sometimes and there are days when I never get into the zone.

I set a range for my daily goal, like 2500-5000. if I do 2500, that's fine, I can set it aside for the day. if I do 5000, keep pushing if I want but that's a good place to stop. I find that by 2000 words is when I know whether it's going to be a good writing day or a bad writing day. bad writing day, i can stop at 2500 and be happy. good writing day (especially toward the end of a book when the dominoes are falling over) I can get up to 8k, but I try not to do that anymore because it turns my brain to mush.

ok that's all for now I hope this was helpful :)

[my-stories-vault]

Chapter 2 ~ The Supernatural Wars.

Pairing: English Dean Winchester X English Y/N L/N

Blurb: When the residents of this Earth found out that they were but a draft in God's numerous stories, they decided to make noise in hopes that their creator would return. Nothing can be louder than the begs of the powerless, the cackles of the ruthless, or the unending destruction left in the wake of the most merciless wars any universe can ever see—here the bloodshed never ends. So, tell me how can two young soulmates, then, find love's shade of red under all this crimson gore?

Warnings/Trigger Warnings (18+): Language, gore, voilence, major and minor character deaths, thoughts of suicide (not graphic), substance abuse (alcohol and cigarettes), mentions of wars (I mean, it's in the name).

{ Series Masterlist ; Main Masterlist }

Chapter 2: Marriages Need Sacrifices.

Education has been an adventurous endeavor for you. Most people disagree that books can give you a great travel experience, but books have been ninety percent of your education. You are great on the field of war, don't get you wrong, but you've always gotten a secret thrill in books. Learning about alternate universes, and their alternate lives. Following different spells, symbols, lores. Most importantly, you can apply it all in real life.

No knowledge goes to waste, your father would say. It's one of the rare places where you can find positivity, wallowing in knowledge. For you, it's akin to meditation.

While on the ship, you have been a few of the first to wake up for the morning training from the very first day, the crack of dawn every day. It would be from five to eight before all of your people were shooed into the lowest deck of the Bloody Princess. It was less training than what you wanted, but at least it was something. An energetic start to your days, you believed. After which, you would spend your hours cleaning the lower levels. Rarely would you be found sitting with your soldiers who all had been given three hours of recreational time in the day.

This routine took your mind off of the politics you hadn't stopped playing since the wedding; you would still have more meetings and strategy sessions, map-reading time, and so on, but at least it wasn't all��you were thinking of.

As the vampires grumpily sludged through half-assed explanations, in the few days since the crash course had begun, you had learned to stitch leaves together as sails. Different uses of wood for different parts were taught to you; here, at least you were handy with a knife when it came to shaping up the pieces for a good and sturdy structure of the ship. And ropes - oh, there were so many things to do with ropes.

You realized quickly enough that to these monsters, efficiency mattered the most - you could understand that, even come to respect it. To them, the outward appearances mattered not, nor did hygiene. While you agreed to compromise on the first one, you still tried to maintain basic sanitation for yourself and your crew.

You had also found something that you absolutely sucked at.

It was climbing.

For the love of you, you had never been able to climb trees, let alone these long structures on this large daunting ship that stood so tall that they seemed to be caressing the sky. They didn't even have a lot of handholds or footholds that you could support yourself with. They had a long rope that danced with the wind, and you would have to hold it as you pulled yourself up.

You may be the best markswoman the world has seen from this generation, but your upper body strength was a joke for a climb this challenging. Which is exactly why you spent most of your free time on the ship scaling the longest and thickest pole of the ship.

Some nights when your mind was exhausted from the long talks with your team of the select five that you had, you would sneak out to the upper deck after bedtime and squeeze in a few more rounds with the toughest mast of the ship.

Since you were falling often, you had arranged for yourself the assistance of a vampire who was so passive that it would be a miracle to get a full sentence from him. He was named Scully, a fat immortal who was as powerful as ten men. He started catching you when you fell from tall heights.

Even with that precaution, your medic, Selina got so frustrated with your harmful rendevous that she started tagging along with you to heal your hurts - but mostly to try and talk you out of it.

'If the Captain spots you, it'll be our end!'

'You've always given people far too much credit, Ms Doll,' you whispered back, trudging up the last few steps to the higher level where the mast protruded. It was the second-highest level on the ship, only second to another upper deck where the wheel of the ship stood. There was a watch tower atop this mast that you wished to see the sea from one of these days.

The view would be the most breathtaking, you had to gather.

Scully was already waiting at the bottom, he grunted when you greeted him. Selina skirted around him, still as afraid of vampires as the first day she'd seen them.

You gripped the rope in your stinging palms - your rope burns were the worst injuries from this activity besides all the blows that had been delivered to your back when you'd fallen.

Scully placed himself near you, and the proximity tensed you, but you wouldn't be as overt as Selina about it. You placed your foot horizontally on the wood, pulling yourself up. Your muscles smarted as you took one step after another, walking vertically upwards to your goal. You made sure that your steps weren't too far apart, lest they throw off your balance.

Your highest mark yet had been eight feet.

In this round, you barely touched halfway when your right shoe lost its grip. Your hands tried to cling to the rope, but your skin was irritable against the rope's hold. You were free-falling next. You had the sense to curl up and turn mid-air to your side so that it wouldn't hurt as much.

Scully's hold never came, and there was a short scream that tore from Selina. You hummed your pain behind pressed lips as the wood groaned under your weight.

You were used to this by now.

'Why didn't you catch her?!' Selina rushed to your side, but you were brushing her concerns away.

'He doesn't dignify breaking my fall unless it's from really high, Ms Doll. You know that.'

Scully shrugged in response. You'd come to understand his mind enough to know that if you fell too soon, he would think that you deserved to get hurt. You'd come to terms with it.

'Still—'

'Please. I want to try again.'

Fuming, for she knew your decision was impossible to change, she drew herself to the side.

Your rise and fall continued for a while.

By the ninth time, something new happened: your hands started bleeding. And you fell from seven feet. Scully caught you. 

'Fuck,' you muttered, your body jolting when it hit his arms.

Scully sneered at your hands, and you scrambled to get out of his hold. He was further pushed away from you by your doctor who forgot her fear of vampires for a terse minute. Selina took your hands in hers. She wore a bumbag around her waist. Small vials of medicines and gauze were in it.

'I told you!' the scold left her. 'What were you thinking—stupid, stubborn, reckless—unbelievable . . .' and so went her mumbles under her breath as she hurried to patch you up. The skin around the wound was angry and red. The antiseptic burned against the already prickling area. The cut wasn't too deep, but stinging enough that it would slow you down in a fight.

You had only glanced at your hands for a second after which your eyes had gone over Selina's shoulder to stare down Scully whose face was the most expressive you had ever seen - he looked starved, as if it had been centuries since his last meal. To your right was Selina, so you tensed your left foot in case you needed to kick down Scully.

'Why ain't I surprised that you're a rule-breaker?' came the drawl of the vampire you had come to dislike the most on the ship.

He was the only vampire on the ship who could think—you disliked that in your potential enemies. The rest of his crew was pure brawl. While he hadn't done anything personally to you, you hated his guts for the same reason he didn't trust yours—the history of generations: the Supernatural Wars.

He threw a pair of gloves your way that you grew wary of.

'Those might help,' he said. He patted Scully on the shoulder who had a vein working in his forhead, barely stopping himself from pouncing on you. Having the permission of his Captain, he scurried of, probably to the food supply.

'Captain!' said a flustered Selina. 'We're, uh—didn't mean to insult your rules. We just, um—'

'You should be more careful, it's been a while since we tasted fresh blood.' His eyes were fixed hungrily on your palms that were quickly being wrapped in the gauze. He'd ignored (or hadn't heard) Selina.

You noticed Selina stifling a panicky expression, trying to focus on her job. You shook her off when she'd weakly knotted the bandages, pushing her subtly behind you as you bent down gingerly to pick up the weathered leather, keeping eye contact with Benny so you didn't appear to him as exposed.

'What do you want?'

'Consider it a gift,' he said, sincere.

You choked back a mirthless laugh. 'You're not serious?'

'You don't have the monopoly on truce offerings,' he said.

Your last truce had been met with the dust of his cabin floor. He must've noted the challenge in your eyes for he amended his words.

'Let it be a belated birthday present. Or whatever. I come with good conscience.'

You conisdered his "gift", a lance of suspicion trilling down your spine.

Yet it would make a good addition to your survial, help you reach the top of the mast as you've been craving. The gloves were fingerless, the leather was brand-new and they would slide smoothly over your palms, adjustible by strap belts near the wrists.

You couldn't take a long time to make a decision; you donned the gift and tightened it; nodding a thanks in the Captain's direction.

'You ain't heard of the witch, Rowena?' Benjamin posted.

You assessed him for his suddenness but you kept up the gossip. 'The Scottish-bred witch. Heard her son, Crowley's been lusting after the throne of Hell.'

'It keeps getting empty,' Benny said. 'Do you know why?'

The Harvelle legacy had the reputation of being the family that had killed most of Hell's Kings. None of the Harvelle ancestors held a candle to the latest Leader though, the Firstborn of South America, wife to a Celeste Middleton who went by the name of Charlie Bradbury for personal reasons.

Somehow you doubted Benny's intention was to praise a Human Leader.

'I have a feeling you will tell me,' you said.

'Rowena, tired of all the fighting, cursed the factions that ousted her. Said the humans had the decency to see grey areas, they were the only ones who treated her nice—she lent them a boon that an era will come where all the Leaders—'

'—will finish the world of all their enemies,' breathed out Selina, her eyes slightly wide with fear and curiosity. 'They're just myths. Rumours. There's no prophecy as such.'

'Then why do you think Rowena won't let her son ascend?' he countered.

You chose to believe your teammate over the vampire. 'Is there a point to this fable, Captain? I would think a rational mons—man,' you caught yourself, 'would know better.'

'I do know better. Just thought I'd let you know why I'm in your corner,' he said, raising his hands meaningfully. 'Even if I'm only a monster.'

Your eyes flared when he called you out. But you focused on what he meant: that he would help your faction asever he could.

The prophecy was the tale of woe of the witch that was currently the most powerful one in the world. Ages old, when she'd been starting out in dark magic, people and factions had kicked her about, inflicting various cruelties on her. Only some humans helped her. Rowena swore vengeance. When she grew into her witchiness, she formulated a prophecy that was never written down, only heard, and in the chinese whispers of these repeated lines, it was highly unclear what had been said. The gist was: twelve Leaders of a time would be successful in ending the other factions - it would be the era of the wars ending. But it would come at a great cost, at the cost of . . . well, that part had never been clear.

Before you could scoff to Benny's ridiculous gesture, you were interuppted by the call of your name. Climbing up the steps, huffing and puffing was your publicist. In tow—you frowned with annoyance—was her wife, Aurora - a hunter who enlisted for your little army to be with her only living family, Layla.

'It doesn't boost the morale of your entourage if you break rules!' she began with a scold. It was her belief that breaking rules would provoke vampires, and cause a fight.

Your annoyance deepend. 'If you'll please excuse us, Captain.'

Benny walked away, more out of respect, you felt - for all vampires had heightened senses, it was moot to wish to not be overheard on a ship infested with that kind. Unless, of course, you found some soundproof hideouts.

'Mrs Stun,' you addressed Lay with a forced smile, 'it's too hard to please you.'

'Not if you try,' Aurora muttered.

Lay was lightly tanned, but Aurora had a bit of a darker complextion. Lay was closer to your age than her wife was, and in the eyes of Aurora, you were still largely a child to be given the reins of an entire continent.

Aurora had been a loyal soldier of your father's. Her only motif to have joined your (far less important, according to her) ranks was to be closer to her wife. Short-distance relationships barely functioned in this dog-eat-dog world, long-distance fell out of question for most couples. Hell, you could probably count the number of couples on one hand's fingers that functioned on long-distance here. Soulmates were a far more common concept than that.

Love for her wife didn't stop Aurora from hating your methods though. Or your age, or attitude, or face . . . everyone gets the picture.

Lay warned her wife with a glance. 'Forgive her, Lady Y/N. The sea makes her crabby.'

'No mind paid. Mrs Stun,' you said, turning to Aurora, a bit stiffly. 'Would you be a dear and escort Ms Doll back down? I feel she's had quite the nightly adventure, don't you? Your lovely wife and I will probably just be talking shop.'

Aurora pursed her lips. She hated you, but she couldn't defy your direct orders. You waited till they trailed out of earshot.

'Is there any reason why you are out of safety, Mrs Stun?' you asked.

She threw a glance around, and took you to the edge of the ship, on the starboard side. She lowered her voice to a whisper. 'They declined our invitation,' Lay was indignant.

Your brow hooked upwards before a smile of understanding and mischief spread. 'Leaders, Winchester?'

'You don't have to be so happy about it,' she said, glaring lightly.

'I can try,' you said, although you made no effort at all to hide your grin.

She sighed. 'I know you like to do things your way, and you don't like being marketed as marriage material, but ties with the older Winchester might seal you a permanent spot.'

'Shut up.'

She frowned, 'That's no tone to take with your—'

'No, I mean it, Mrs Stun, shut up.'

Even from this distance, you could hear it. Your eyes grazed the sky, but it was a no moon night, just the black beauty that was littered with endless untouchable angelic stars. Your eyes scanned the horizons next; on the port side, it was just a smidge from here, but it was growing in size. Mrs Stun followed your orbs to the black outline. And she heard it then too—the howls. Strong, blood-stirring, snarling and snapping howls. You gripped her arm, gentle but firm.

'Alert the troops. Prepare the battalions and wear your armours. Bar the civilians somewhere safe. Do not engage until I tell you to - I'll see if the vampires can scare them off.'

Lay rushed before you, almost sprinting across the deck and disappearing below. You ran up to the other side, up the topmost deck, where you'd seen Benny retreat, at the ship's wheel. He was flanked by two soldiers who were chattering nervously.

'Captain—'

'I see them,' he said grimly, cutting you off. 'Purebloods. Rare to come by, but rarer would be the ships that live to tell the tale.'

'Any way we can outrun them?'

'They are the elite. Better ships, more knots. They'll catch up eventually.'

If you couldn't have flight . . . 'So we fight.'

His lips curled into a sneer. 'We?'

Your eyes flashed in anger. 'They are elite purebloods, do you think they'll leave you when they hear that you've been sheltering humans? Elite hates accomplices as much as their criminals.'

'We did it for the blood supply,' he explained. 'No skin off our neck.'

A thrill of horror crossed your features, but it was masked by anger. 'Mark my words, Captain - even if one of us survives, which we will - they'll take down the whole bloody ship. Some of you may die by the werewolves - all of you will die at our hands.' You squared yourself, eyes glittering with malice, 'Besides, if you really want to be on the "winning side" from the prophecy, earn it.' You turned about on your heel, hearing him curse under his breath; you throw over your shoulder, 'Tear pieces of your cloth and tie them around your right wrist - that way my kind would know not to kill you!'

Flying down the stairs, you took a sharp turn, through the door. The soldiers had filtered out into the corridor waiting for further instructions. Boa, your burly and taciturn personal bodyguard handed you an azure napkin, the color of Europe. You tied it around your right wrist, armoring up with Boa's aide.

'All right, Hunters,' you said. 'Werewolves. Purebloods. Silver. It is our job to make sure none of them reach the Commons.' (It was the slang your lot used for civilians.) You inserted the silver magazine in your gun that Boa had carried up. He also handed you a bow and a thick set of arrows, all headed with silver. Lastly, you were given two long silver daggers that you tucked against your ankles by tying them with a thin wire.

'Try to not be cornered against the ship walls,' the chief of your army, Baz, said. Baz had always been a people's person.

Boa was the one with a long scar running down from his shoulder to the tips of his left hand's fingers. It was how you usually distinguished between the twin brothers.

'Werewolves can swim, so throwing them overboard will only buy you time,' Baz revised.

'Pass around three vials of silver to the close-combaters - poison for last resort,' you said, gazing at the back of the crowd that was near the back door. The last woman there nodded and headed back down for the poison.

'Do we have a number?' grunted Boa.

You shook your head. 'But the vampires seemed scared.'

'Great,' Baz muttered, meaning it. The man thrived on danger. It was one of the reasons why you chose him.

'They're good for nothing,' the surlier twin said. 'Kill them, too.'

You gave him a look. 'Not unless they aren't on our side,' you tapped your cloth. 'Check for their loyalties. Furthermore, I would advise an element of surprise but—'

'Those dogs have probably already sniffed us out,' Boa completed. 'Do we have access to the cannons?'

'You have permission to collaborate with them on it, and take over if unhelpful,' you said.

Baz ordered a handful of soldiers to do that, they left into an adjacent room where the servant quarters were.

'Remember the aim isn't to win,' you affirmed, 'it's to get away. Do everything in your power to survive.'

Thirty vampires, many scores of werewolves, and about a hundred humans. Yet Mathematics failed you - it must be taking revenge for not being your favorite subject in school. Purebloods would not have been how you first introduced the new members of your army to the world, surely not one who seemed to have two centuries' worth of ancestry to back up their bestial habits.

The wolves were ripping into the skin of any human they could sink their teeth into, gobbling them up because they thought that converted werewolves were a disgrace. And from the carcasses, they took bones to play - as if it was some reward for "cooking" their own food. It disgusted you how much saliva they had brought to the ship's floor in just under half an hour.

One of your guns was already lodged in a werewolf that was now being stamped under furious and sparring footsteps. It was after you took a good six and a half down with its bullets.

You were shooting arrows from your vantage at the werewolves trying to get on the deck with the mast where you are, with nine other sharpshooters weeding out the tougher werewolves from a distance.

At least the vampires had worn the indicative cloths around their hairy wristbones.

Benny was dropping heads right and left, in the centre of the war on the level below you. Scully was ripping off heads with his bare teeth, a fearsome sight.

You notched three arrows to kill three on the other end of the ship, it was aimed a little higher to account for the wind. The bowstring went taut, and you released them, not waiting to see if they hit - knowing already that they had, if not killing, at least maiming - saving an eighteen-year-old on your team.

Your bleeding palms may hinder your close-combat, but they wouldn't fail you in your shooting.

You were taking one such aim when the floor under your feet slipped out with a large blast. You jumped to grab the railing as the wood under your feet crumbled and caved into the lower level.

Fucking cannons.

You strained to pull yourself over the railing and to drop on the other side of it - right on top of a werewolf that was trying to scramble away from the falling floor. You didn't have time (or courage) to see how many soldiers had been lost to that blast. You plunged the arrow in your hand through the brain of the monster, landing on your feet as it fell dead on its knees, between your legs.

You had to unsheath your daggers since you'd fallen where the close-combat was taking place. You aimed for their kneecaps, dodging their claws and teeth, even if your hair and shoulders did get snagged a fair number of times.

You soon realized that the werewolves weren't subsiding - no matter how many you killed. Your eyes found a plank and several ropes had been brought as connectors between the ships. Any vampire who tried to thwart that bridge was instantly overpowered by a group who stood guard on this ship, welcoming more of their members that never seemed to end.

You knew that if it weren't for the humans, the vampires would've easily lost by now.

'Boa!' you yelled. You signaled for the bridge, asking for cover.

He came to your side to swiftly slash the werewolves who came at you. You firmed your feet in your place, shooting at the five guards at that distance. As you killed the first two, and severely injured a third - the remaining two dodged out of the way. When they noticed you, they ran for you.

You ducked under a sparring couple of a vampire and a werewolf, sidestepped a dead human, and then used your momentum to strike your dagger through the left arm of the fourth guard, and into his heart. The last one tackled you to the ground, its jaws snapping way too close to your face.

The stench made you cringe, there were bits of skin in his bloody teeth. You locked your arms to keep his torso away from yours, struggling to keep him away with your weaker upper body even if the monster on you was only of a medium build.

Boa saved your ass. He swung his weapon in a powerful swing, and it was all you could do to shut your eyes and mouth tightly as the blood poured over you. You kicked the body off you, taking your bodyguard's hand to stand upright before he had to leave you to combat another wolf that threw itself in your direction.

You proceeded to the bridge to finish your job. You slaughtered the wounded guard. You kicked the bridge away, causing the four wolves on it to flail, and make a wide grasp for the ship. Two fell into the ocean, one caught the ledge, the other hanging onto the first one's pants.

The wind knocked out of you when a wolf threw itself on your back and your ribs must've bruised under the force with which you slammed into the ship's edge. Your remaining dagger followed the two wolves into the water, disappearing between the churning of the two ships. You bent forward on reflex when its breath came too close to your neck, his chest was to your back.

The heel of your shoes pinned through the right foot of the werewolf who yowled. Your elbow hit his chest, then his nose. It was thrown off of you. You extracted your first dagger from the werewolf guard you'd previously killed, in which time the one attacking you now, advanced on you again. You lodged your weapon in its ample belly that spurted blood. You coerced the knife up to his heart.

A new hand grappled for your shoulder, and you were pulled against the ledge again with a grunt. This time, your kidneys took the hit. The teeth of the wolf that had managed to halfway pull itself up the ledge was next to your ear. You whipped out an arrow and slammed it down into his hand. You bent down to pick your bloody dagger from the werewolf corpse and whipped around to plung it into his heart; following that you pulled the arrow holding him to the ship back out again.

The two hanging werewolves fell. The live one let loose a loud whine.

'Dogs,' you rolled your eyes.

Cannons had been blasting at regular intervals from both sides. The aims from their vessel was abysmal, and your team of humans had had a better chance of hurting their ship more, so there would be no chase when you got rid of these monsters.

But they did have a few good hits.

This particular one, which was just blasted, hurtled across the night sky with the faintest of whizzes and crashed into the tallest mast that you'd been trying to climb earlier.

Your eyes widened, and a gasp left the wolf who had you in a deadlock. You used its distraction to your advantage. You head slammed the bitch, and left her strong arms that had been choking you. You took two arrows out and speared both of her thighs. This didn't happen without a jarring blow to your stomach from her punch that brought blood to your mouth. But her shriek hid your groan.

You didn't have time to catch your breath. You had to jump out of the way of the mast that was careening your way, ready to bury you at the sea. Your legs were saved by inches when the thing toppled over the side of the ship. The bitch you'd maimed at the thighs wasn't as lucky and was made into a pancake.

Almost everyone aboard was lucky that it didn't fall on the inside of the ship where most of the battle was (you were sure that had been the intention of the werewolves when they had aimed for the mast) - it damaged a bit of your ship, yet it mostly, and most joyously, fell towards the other ship; the lovely irony: their ship was naturally lowered in height, making the mast tip in that direction, and in your favor.

Their ship buckled with a satisfying crunch of wood. The mast now forming the new bridge between the two ships. You hoped your soldiers would blast it soon so the werewolves stop coming over.

Before you could slide over the round wood, and back into the main fight, a large dog headbutted you. You fell on your butt, close to where the railing had been before it got destroyed, thanks to the fallen mast. Your left elbow absorbed most of the impact, the sea spraying your face when you came close to dropping off the edge.

Your attention was more fixated, however, on the actual wolf.

It was true that pureblood werewolves could access their powers anytime, but to turn into an actual wolf was a rare gift.

It pounced; you rolled away and onto your feet.

The mast had created a separate slice of battle. Only two other pairs were fighting here except you: Mrs Stun versus a werewolf, and a skinny vamp who was clawing out his werewolf's heart.

The vampire, noticing the wolf, sneered in hatred.

The wolf was distracted from you for a second. The vampire launched itself at the animal who cleverly sidestepped and caught the vampire's waist betwixt its maws.

Your mouth actually fell ajar when the wolf bit the vampire so hard that its body snapped into two. Color you surprised, this was something extremely hard to do. You knew wolves like these were powerful - it didn't induce you with confidence upon witnessing just how much.

It didn't bother to eat the vampire, gagging in disgust - they mostly had a taste for humans, and vampires who were technically dead humans, might've tasted like decaying food to it.

Its yellow lamplike slitted eyes turned to Aurora, the hunter wife of the Stun family; before it turned to you. With your left elbow injured after that fall, your hand hadn't stopped quivering; you had one arrow aligned which weakly skittered away to the mast's side because the wolf dodged it without much effort.

It used that jump to keep speeding towards you. It couldn't sink its teeth in you as it had planned because you had swayed your weight onto your right leg as you swiveled, barely keeping your balance; its claws did scrape superficial wounds on your skin, across your left hip though.

You re-slung your bow, no point without your useless left hand; and went for your quiver. Your hand clasped around four arrows - all that you had left. You took one out, gripping it tight in your dominant hand.

You knew you couldn't battle this one for long - it would take too much energy. Attack wasn't an option either if that vamp was a good example. Yet defense took too long sometimes - you could be dancing around with this beast till God knows when.

You took a step in the opposite direction for every step it took towards you. The prowl of the animal seemed casual, almost lazed. Then, it did something that almost made you drop your weapon out of shock.

'You must be the head bitch,' he talked.

You scoffed with false bravado. 'Great. A talking fucking wolf - just when I thought you dogs couldn't find more ways to whine.'

Its lips twisted into a smile that was surreal on a wolf. It must be a Pureblood Alpha with a fucking gift of shapeshifting. Alphas can talk in their wolf form, you knew, but you'd never seen one. The rumors had been from so long ago that you thought that they were just that - whispers of the fucking wind.

'Mock all you want,' the deep mesmerizing voice purred. It both fascinated you and frightened you. 'I can hear that heart pounding away like a friggin' hummingbird's - it'll be so delicious with all those hormones.'

'Creep,' your nose scrunched, walking in circles still. As you often did, you changed topics. 'Tell me, how'd you even find us out, huh? It's not like we didn't do a damn good job of concealing ourselves.'

'You don't know who you are, do you? The final piece,' he spat, an almost grimacing smirk fixed on his face. 'Couldn't let you preside Europe and ruin the world, could we?'

Your brows furrowed. 'Did Captain Laffitte call you?' you asked the most pressing question, though you had many.

The answering snarl meant "no". 'That vampire is a traitor to our faction,' it growled, its claws digging into the strong wood threateningly. 'Transporting humans, what a crime! I'll kill him when I'm finished with you.'

'Boy, do I feel special,' you smiled sarcastically, stopping in your tracks. 'Though, you won't be able to keep your word—you won't live past me, dude.'

As expected, his ego was hurt - you can expect that from a person so gifted, who felt so invincible. A person who was egoistic enough to underestimate you, and give you time to think.

It pounced once more and you didn't duck down until it was inches away. You had walked enough so that the mast had been against your back; the werewolf's snout crashed into the wood.

You had turned on the balls of your soles at the last minute so that your back had been to his front. Your hand had shot up and the arrow nicked a long line along his chest and down to the crotch. When he fell due to gravity, the arrow snapped in half, and the lower half of its body took you down with it. Your quiver dug painfully into your back - it wasn't your biggest problem though - you were suffocating under its heavy abdomen.

You punched at its legs and joints (the weakest points) vigorously till it rolled off you, and trembling, stood to its feet.

He snapped its teeth at your face. Your hair missed his bite by inches. The twig in your hand which had been the lower half of your arrow, you shoved it into the monster's mouth - it stuck painfully between his teeth even if he snapped it like a toothpick.

It gave you time to put some distance and retrieve another arrow; one seemed to have slipped out of our quiver when you were getting up, so only two were left with you.

Even weakened due to heavy bleeding, the Alpha of this pack was quick to attack. It swiped at your legs; you came down with an elbow to its brain which seemed to hurt you more than him because it was your left one. You twirled on the ground with your uninjured hand and jabbed the arrow in its left eye.

It howled in pain. Maybe you imagined it, but it felt like the voices of the battle seemed to slow down at the sound - as if the wolves sensed something was wrong with their Alpha.

Your intuition proved right when, out of your periphery, you saw heads turning in your direction - for which some wolves got killed.

You stamped the arrow down further in its face, gritting in effort. Even then, the wolf wasn't dying.

You pulled the arrow from his eye to make it painful for him and then swung a foot over its prone form, straddling it's back; you were facing the rest of the ship this way, and it was almost as if your enemies were holding their breath for your next move. You pulled the wolf up by its ear, his fur matted with claret; it was with struggle, bringing him into a chokehold with your throbbing left hand, your arrow poised at its heart for everyone to rue their day about.

'Whine, won't you?' your British accent curled your words into a certain menacing sweetness. 'I'll allow it this once.' Your arrow pierced his heart, the crimson fluid spouting from his chest and flooding into your palm.

The wolves howled as if it were a military salute.

You slumped as all of them ran like rats from the ship, using the mast to cross over because you heard people from their ship shout orders about retreating. The humans slouched back, relieved; so did the vampires. (Boa tried to stab as many as he could with his silver sword as they were trying to flee.)

You dragged yourself away from the fallen mast. Without imminent danger, your body started screaming about all the pains it had endured, that it had kept quiet about till now. Like pangs, your brain was being sent impulses of all the places that hurt, and all the degrees that it hurt in.

Broken ribs, sore back, left hand and elbow throbbed, cuts on hip, bruised stomach, bloody mouth - and so many more little tales your body had to tell. You were also tired - you needed water and sleep.

You took a deep breath, compartmentalizing all your pain, and already prioritising the order you would take care of yourself in. This was a habit you picked after having been through many wars like this before - never so intense, but wars nevertheless.

You also glanced around to take stock of your people; making plans in your head for the next few hours. Selina and her small group of doctors would have their work cut out.

Speaking of, the civilians were meekly peeking out.

You used the broken railing behind your back to slowly pull yourself up but almost fell back down when you heard a scream of dismay.

'AURORA!'

Her yell seemed to set everyone in motion. With cries, people started rushing to their deceased family members or the wounded ones.

You blinked in surprise as Lay came running, pushing her fellow humans aside - and that's when you finally see it.

Mrs Stun was being dragged away by her leg by the werewolf she had been fighting. She was being viciously stamped on because of all the hurried footsteps and the mad struggle. The werewolf who carried her was weak, and you saw the symptoms of being poisoned on his skin - the werewolf was avenging its posioned self by dragging an unconscious Aurora away. (At least you hoped she was unconscious.)

A coil of guilt made itself known, and you mentally cursed yourself for not paying attention to her when she'd been so close to you. She had been on your side of the mast.

You leaped to your feet, using your last arrow to aim. Your hand shook violently; you gripped the round bodice of your bow that much tighter. With careful aim, and ignoring the cries of Lay Stun who was being held back by the twins now, you shot your very last shot.

Your heart fell as your arrow fell into the ocean - missing its mark by inches. Still, there was a surprised bark from the poisoned wolf, and you noted one of your soldiers - Rory, also an archer - hadn't failed unlike you. The poisoned wolf toppled off the mast.

With a distressed yell, Lay broke free of her binds, and climbed the mast, pushing the werewolves into the sea - whoever came in her way - not that they were paying her much mind either. They all just wanted to escape to their ship before it left without them, all of them were mindless now with their Alpha gone.

So, there, in the middle of the makeshift bridge, Lay kneeled next to her wife.

There was another horrible blast, and a cannon had shot through the centre of the mast - it had been one of your shooters, probably hoping to break the mast in two and let the deadweight fall into the massive waters.

Sure enough, with the distance between ships growing, the hole in the mast was splintering into something larger as well. At this rate, the Stun family would either fall into the ocean or sail away with the werewolves.

You jumped onto the mast, your heels clicking loudly. Boa and Baz came after you. You all were effectively standing above the ocean as the wood cracked quickly under your feet - an ocean filled with werewolves who were trying to either swim to their ship or simply stay afloat. Even if your side of the mast was steady, you found yourself worried for Lay.

'Lay!' you yelled over the terrible sound of wood breaking. 'Give me your hand!'

'We have to bring her, Y/N!' she sobbed, holding the face of her lover in her lap. 'She still has a pulse.'

Almost unwillingly, your eyes darted to the multiple bite marks on the leg that Aurora had been dragged with.

'She needs help!' Lay didn't seem to be getting it.

'Please come over,' you urged. 'We'll see about her!'

'What do you mean!?' she shrieked. 'I'm not going anywhere until you help her!'

Boa, uncomfortable, mumbled to you. 'Aurora's infected, Lead.'

Your lips pursed. You extended your intact arm, 'Lay, please. The mast won't hold long.'

Her eyes wildly scanned yours. 'Take her, then! I'll come after her!'

'Lay, your wife made a choice. For this continent,' you said. 'For these wars! Let her sacrifice not be in vain—'

'What do you know about sacrifices?!' she screeched. Your lips parted in surprise; you'd never been talked to like that, not by Layla. 'What do you know about love!? You either take her, or you leave me!'

You took a step forward, hands raised placatingly. 'Lay—'

With a terrifying lurch, the wood gave away. You didn't think when you jumped forward, letting Boa figure out how he was to keep you alive - your outstretched hand grasped Lay, more than half of your body hanging out. But you were anchored. Your thighs were pinned under someone's weight - and you had a feeling that it was Boa, who must also have been held by several people behind him.

It was a good thing too because you wouldn't have been able to stay aboard under the weight of both the Mrs Stuns; Lay was clutching Aurora by the wrist.

'We can't hold long!' came a yell from Baz. 'It'll fall soon.' True enough, the mast was dangerously teetering on the edge.

'Lay, reconsider!' you said. 'You'll lose your life! Do you think she'd want that?'

'Stop talking about her as if she's dead already!' she growled, much like the wolves had been. You could see her straining, hanging like that, her lover's hand slipping slowly because she wasn't strong enough, and another hand stretched painfully in yours. She was clinging to your azure cloth, her long manicured nails digging into your skin painfully.

You saw her do another thing you never had: Lay Stun was crying.

'Lay—!'

'You don't,' her breath hitched. 'You don't know what she wanted!'

The ship groaned, tilting with the mast. You reinforced your grip, aided with your smarting left hand.

'And you don't know what I want,' she sobbed.

'We can talk about this, back on the ship!'

'No!' she yelled. 'You don't get it . . . y-you don't get—!' She gasped when her slick hands slid further out of your leather gloves. The azure around your wrist grew an unsteady knot.

'I love the work, Y/N,' she said, determined. She met your eyes. 'Pardon me if I couldn't marry it.' It felt more like an accusation than an admission.

She wildly jerked her palm away, your azure cloth unhinging from your wrist and falling with both the Mrs Stuns.

You were pulled off the mast to safety (you couldn't put up much fight against Boa), the mast was pushed into the sea by a hoard of vampires who had survived - before the mast could take you all down into the treacherous waters.

You felt dazed, glued to the starboard side of the ship, watching as the monsters helped the mighty ocean drown your teammate and her family by eating them.

The war had shown it's true colours again; you couldn't help the anger as you watched the blood infested waters getting smaller and smaller in the distance. You had left your friend, quite literally, to the wolves.

Selina was slammed; her group of doctors and the civilians aided her. About sixty humans fell under urgent care, the rest were managable for a while, twenty were dead (inclusive of the ones Boa had to execute because they were bitten). All the vampires were on standby (only eight of them died) - because, well, they were self-healing - they would be seen after the humans were taken care of, if they would even need it then.

You were an orange case. Betwixt the code red and the look-after-yourself-because-you-know-that-much group.

So there you sat, doing a mediocore job of bandaging the wound on your side, and making a sling for your left hand that could be a good joke for the team of doctors some day who were giving you a distressed side-glance everytime they saw you now. To be fair, they were giving everyone in your orange group that look.

You didn't stare back, unable to care about your state right now. Your eyes were fixed on your thoughts where the scene that conspired tonight was playing on a loop. There was a lump in your throat which was as heavy as the mast must have been - the reality seemed as unreliable as climbing that fucking pole.

'Lady Y/N,' called the grave voice of your chief of army. Baz awkwardly stood to the side, his voice low for your ears only. 'Um, do you want to address the crowd? The grievers? Um, Lay would usually, uh—' he shuffled uncomfortably. 'I can do it, but it's better if it comes from someone of higher in the hierarchy.'

You ran a hand through your hair which was a guise to press your palm into your eyes so that it could absorb the tears that were welling up.

I love the work, Y/N, her voice bounded within the confines of your head.

You stood up with a deep breath that pulled you straight on your heels, fully composed - yet with an empathetic mask that the survivors will want.

'Of course,' you said. 'This job shall fall on my shoulders.'

Pardon me if I couldn't marry it, Lay had blamed. Yeah, well, fuck that.

She doesn't have to marry the work because you already have. And marraiges need sacrifices - Lay and Aurora would have to be the first morsel from your personal life to this burning pyre that is your planet. 

A/N: Talk about a toxic relationship, eh 🫤? Ah, anyways, who's ready to get their Dean on in Chapter 3 👀?

Tag List.

@hobby27 @stoneyggirl2 @globetrotter28

[theatrelove3000]

You’re On Your Own, Kid

This is the first Obi-Wan fic I have posted, let alone let someone other than two close friends read. It took me three months of no time, energy, or inspiration to finish this, but it’s finally done, and I am actually really proud of it. I am thinking about expanding this, depending on the time I have and the inspiration as it comes. Let me know if you like this and want to see more!

Sith! Obi-Wan x former padawan reader

Warnings: I suck at warnings. Uhhh, dark side, mentions of death, maybe manipulation, kissing but only a little, canon violence (dude gets an arm cut off), lightsabers, Sith! Obi. I think that is it. The reader was his padawan but they didn’t start training together until she was already an adult. The reader wears a dress but I don’t think I used pronouns?  Lmk if I missed anything else.

Summary: When your master suddenly falls into the darkness, you are left alone to be subject to the watchful, judging, mistrusting eyes of the Jedi Council. It’s one thing to lose a master, you’ve lost one before Obi. It’s something else to lose the man you love. Especially when you can still hear his whispers. 

Inspired by Taylor Swift’s You’re On Your Own, Kid! Recommend listening while reading this

Three months, two weeks, and six days.

That's how long it's been since you last saw Obi Wan. He'd go on missions that could be that long, or longer, but this time stretch was harder because you know he isn't coming back. Obi Wan is gone. He left the order. He abandoned you. 

At least, that's what you keep telling yourself.

You try to stay upset and hurt about it but it's becoming more difficult by the day. Watching your master walk away from the only home and family he ever knew was a major shock to everyone. He always preached about how the Jedi Order was good, right, and peaceful, yet suddenly, he was gone after causing quite the stir in a council meeting.

He had come back to your shared apartment and marched right over to you, grabbed you by your elbow and drew you into his chest. He was always more physically affectionate with you but this was something different. Something unsettling. He had wrapped you in a tight hug, breathing in the scent of you before dropping his head and whispering one thing in your ear. 

"My chains are broken. The force has freed me."

And then he was gone.

It was explained to you later that your master had fallen and you were to be reassigned to complete your training. You had been set to take your trials for your knighthood in a few weeks but due to Obi Wan's sudden switch to the dark side, they feared you harbored the same beliefs he revealed he had to the council. 

Your new master is… for lack of a better word, an ass. She is your third master. Your first one, who had selected you at a young age, died a few years back. Obi Wan decided to complete your training, since you were just three or four years from knighthood, already an adult. This new master is short and cold and uncaring. You had just been through a rapid and difficult transition and she held no compassion in her eyes, only wariness and dislike. She didn't trust you. 

No one did now. All the friends you had no longer speak to you because they fear you are unstable and dangerous. You never showed signs of leaning into the dark side but because Obi Wan fell, you also must be dark. His apprentice. Only Anakin still speaks to you. Occasionally, Master Yoda invites you to meditate with him as well, though you suspect he is doing so to check on your signature. Master Yoda is a kind and gentle soul but he must be wary. You understand. Sort of. 

It isn't until the heat of summer fades and cool winter winds start to blow that you start to hear him.

My darling.

Little dove.

Sweet one.

Angel.

The terms of endearment your master used to call you whisper through your mind, as though he were right behind you. You feel his presence when you're alone and see him in your dreams. You'd thought if you dreamed of him, they'd be nightmares but they aren't. They're sweet dreams. Almost memories but with slight changes.

Mornings after nightmares when you'd wake in his bed wrapped in his embrace, though he lets his hands wander more. Presses kisses to your neck and shoulders. Messing up on purpose during training so he'd have to wrap his arms around you to fix your form but he stands far closer, holding you tightly to his body. 

You knew you loved him before he left but he never showed signs of returning the feeling. It wasn't until he was gone that the signs appeared. For a while, you thought it was just your mind grieving the loss of him. That is, until he comes to you. 

~~~~~

Anakin manages to convince the council that you need to get out of the temple, take on a mission again. He's always been persuasive, though at first the council wasn't inclined to grant his request. Through many meetings and solid evidence that you're not like Obi Wan, they allow it on the condition that he keeps you in his line of sight at all times. He agrees readily and tells you to pack a bag. 

After explaining the mission, he takes you to Padme so she can help you find a dress. You're attending a gala the senate is holding in order to ease tensions, though with the way the galaxy is now it will only raise them. 

That's how you find yourself standing in a big ballroom wearing a long sleeve, floor length dress. Despite the dress still being modest compared to the other women around you, you still feel exposed. Your Jedi robes leave everything up to imagination but this dress does not. It's more form fitting and accentuates certain parts of your body in a very flattering way, while still being conservative.

"My, my. What have we here? Did you lose your way, Little dove?"

The voice makes you freeze. You spin around, looking for the owner but see no one. You shake your head, hoping to rid yourself of the panic and hope that had appeared with the voice.

"Did you stray too far from home? Do you need help finding the path?"

You know his voice better than you know your own. He's here somewhere. You can feel his eyes on you even if you can't see him.

You turn slightly, searching the crowd for Anakin. He's talking with some of the senators, Padme by his side. He's occupied.

You start walking.

Letting yourself out of the ballroom, you wander through the halls of the massive building the gala is being held in. You had seen a terrace when you first arrived and been escorted in. There it is. You open the doors and step out into the cool night air. 

You don't hear him as he follows you or as he shuts the doors to the terrace. You don't hear him take the last few strides necessary to stand behind you, closing the distance between you. The only sign that you were correct is the feeling of his hands on your hips. They're warm and strong and certain, just as they always were.

"My Little Dove." His greeting is whispered into your hair just above your ear.

"Master-"

"I am not your master any more, my darling." He interrupts you, his voice sending goosebumps down your arms. "I am simply a being you meet in your travels as a pawn in a game your side can't win. I am only a man who has missed you very dearly."

You take a deep breath, praying your voice won't shake as you respond, "you wouldn't have had to miss me if you hadn't gone."

The hum he gives in response is deep, seemingly coming from low in his chest. "It was time for me to go. I hope you can understand. Places to be and people to see, you know."

"You left me. You abandoned me like everyone else." 

He tightens his grip on your hips, fingers digging into them. "I did not abandon you. I never left you, Little Dove. I was always there, always watching. It may have been from a distance but you were never alone."

You try to control your emotions, keep your cool, "Your leaving the Order has shown me I have always been on my own. I didn't choose this life, Obi Wan. It was thrust upon me before I was at an age that I could understand it. I don't remember the sound of my mother's voice. I don't know my father's name."

"I didn't choose it either, darling. Very few of us did. To be entirely honest with you, I dreamed of leaving and yet I stayed. Do you know why, my Little Dove?" His fingers are tracing up your sides delicately, never straying into areas he has not gained permission to touch. 

Your voice cracks a bit as you respond, "Why, Obi?"

"I stayed because I needed to be around you. Your presence is my vise, your signature is, simply put, addictive to me. It was inappropriate for me to have the feelings I do for you while you trained under me so I kept them at bay as best I could." His nose grazes your temple as he speaks, the edge of his beard lightly scratching your cheekbone as he speaks, "I didn't do as good a job as I thought. Those around us began questioning our relationship. They said horrible things that I will never allow to reach your innocent ears. I could have killed anyone who ever said anything nasty about you. I still can. All you have to do is ask."

Your breathing falters, though you can't tell if it's from fear or shock or something else. If he catches it, he doesn't say a word. "I don't want that. Murder is still wrong, no matter where you stand politically."

"Ah, but don't you see, my Little Dove? I don't wish to kill for political reasons. I kill for you. Anyone who ever hurt you deserves to go."

"You're frightening me, Master," you whisper shakily. He responds by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back against his chest.

"I do not wish for you to fear me, my love. I only want to protect you, to keep you safe. I can continue to do that from afar as I have been these three months. Or… you could come with me." He keeps his voice low, fingers stroking your sides delicately.

"Where? Where would you take me?"

"Home, Little Dove. I will take you home."

You close your eyes, feeling your resolve beginning to crumble. Suddenly the warmth of your former master against your back is gone. You turn and he's nowhere to be seen. The only sign that you did not imagine it is the phantom feeling of his hands on you. 

"All you have to do is call for me, my Little Dove. I'll come to save you from your golden cage." 

Suddenly you hear your name being called. It takes you a moment to register that it's Anakin's voice. He sounds a little worried. You turn all the way around for the first time since stepping onto the balcony. You use the force to open the doors.

"I'm here, Ani"

His head snaps to face you at your voice and he quickly makes his way over to you, "I've been looking everywhere for you! What the hell are you doing out here?"

"It was a little stuffy in there. I just needed some air. I'm sorry if I worried you. I didn't think I'd be gone long." You let him lead you back inside. Instead of taking you back to the ballroom, he escorts you outside where Padme is waiting.

"It's fine. I'm just glad I didn't lose you. That… would not have looked good on me." He laughs a little, rubbing your shoulder comfortingly, "it's time for us to head out. We're going to be escorting the senator to her suite in the hotel and then going to our room."

"Yes, Master Skywalker," you bow slightly dramatically, tone dripping in sarcasm.

He laughs, rolls his eyes at your playfulness and shoves your shoulder as you start walking, both of you flanking Padme. 

~~~~~

And that's how it began.

You start answering him when he whispers into your mind. You didn't even see him that night but you know it was real. Even if it wasn't, you hope that you continue to hear him. You start feeling him as well. You even catch hints of his scent from time to time. Always when you need him the most.

Those moments became more and more common. The weight of arms around you in those few blissful moments between sleep and wakefulness make you think of him. He whispers encouragement as you train with your new master, even the occasional reminder to help you correct your form or a suggestion to make a motion easier for you. He's still helping to train you. Apparently your four years with him didn't make him sick of teaching you.

It's your next off-world mission that starts to cause your foundation to crumble.

Anakin had convinced Master Windu that he could take you off-world with himself and Ahsoka instead of being with your own master. It was a simple mission. Get into the separatist base, steal the information, get out. 

When is anything ever that simple?

Your cover was blown quickly and it doesn't take long to realize this was a trap. You are separated from Anakin and Ahsoka somewhere in the crossfire between your troops and the battle druids. You find yourself in an empty hallway alone, not even a clone behind you.

Looking around, you move back towards the way you came, only to realize you are more than a little lost in this base. You reach out your signature to find Anakin but are met with a different signature. Another, more familiar one.

Obi Wan.

Before you can take a moment to think it through, you're running towards it. You chase the warm, blue signature you've grown oh so attached to deeper into the base. When you reach a door that you can feel him behind, you pause. Pressing your palm flat against the cool metal, you reach out again. Reaching for him. He responds by tangling his signature with yours, but doesn't open the door. You hear a click and realize it's the lock. He unlocked the door. The door still doesn't open. He's giving you the choice. It almost makes you cry.

He is giving you the option to reach him. He isn't forcing you into anything, simply waiting to see how you decide. The Order never does that. All they do is command and demand and give expectations to meet. It's exhausting. You're tired. You miss him. 

"Obi?" You whisper to the door. As a response, you hear a small thud on the door as he presses his hand to it where yours is. You can feel the pressure of his power through the door. He whispers your name back to you.

"I'm frightened," you feel your eyes start to water, voice breaking softly, "I just want you."

"I know, my darling. It's alright if you are not ready yet. I'll wait for you. I'll wait an eternity for you." His voice is louder than yours, but not by much. You want to open the door but can't bring yourself to do it. He can feel it. You know he can. His signature brushes over yours gently again, soothing you. He was always good at that.

"I have to go, Master. I'm sorry. I need to find Anakin." 

"It's alright, Little Dove. I'll be with you. Always."

You nod and take another moment of weakness before pulling away and running the way you came. It takes you twenty minutes to find Anakin and Ahsoka again. As you reappear, Ahsoka crashes into you, hugging you tight.

"Are you okay!? Your comms weren't working. We've been calling you and sent troops to find you but we couldn't! What happened? Where did you go?"

You push Ahsoka back to look her into her eyes, holding her shoulders. "It's okay. I'm fine. I got lost in the hallways. The droids were coming from that way so I handled it. I just got confused on my way back to you. All the halls look so similar."

You try cracking a joke as you notice Anakin watching you cautiously. He knows something. Looking over, you cast what you hope is a charming smile in his direction. He nods and gives a small smile in return but still looks concerned, though you can't tell if it's for you or because of you. 

When you return to the Temple, the council convenes to be briefed on the mission. Anakin credits you with destroying a majority of the Droid squadron within the base. The council seems to be a mixture of impressed and put off by this news. You're not surprised.

You feel nothing for them anymore. They don't do anything but cause more problems for you and those around you. Most Jedi would say the most dangerous feeling to have is hatred. Some say anger. Others will tell you that hope is the worst thing to feel, especially in this war.

No. The most dangerous thing a Jedi can feel is indifference. Indifference causes one to not have loyalty to those they have been sworn to. With anger or hatred or even hope, it shows one still feels attached to something. With indifference, it is not so.

Your indifference is what Obi Wan was waiting for. 

~~~~~

The next mission you are sent on is the one that sends you over the edge. 

It's another gala you are to attend, this time undercover as a senator's aid. The moment you arrive, you reach out for Obi Wan. You search the room with your eyes and your signature, praying to the Maker that he is there.

As the evening progresses, you stop looking for him. You become distracted by doing your job, working the crowd and getting more information you've been sent to collect. Though the council has seemed to develop more trust in you over the last couple of months, they don't trust you entirely. You have another Jedi with you to keep an eye on you. You don't remember his name, and it doesn't particularly matter to you anyway. He's just a security measure to protect the Order. 

"Pardon me for interrupting, Senator Gunray. I was hoping I might ask this lovely young lady for this dance." His voice drips across your ears like bacta over a burn. Your posture relaxes as the senator you were speaking with bows out gracefully, promising to speak with you again later.

You turn and finally see the man you've dreamt of for five whole months, though if you're honest, it's been longer than that. He looks dashing in his white suit and cape. As your eyes trail up from his chest, you catch the hairs of his auburn beard lift as he smiles at you. You see that smile next, the shining and slightly arrogant one you grew used to throughout your few years of training with him.

He reserves this smile for you. The one that shows his pride but also a glimmer of praise for you. He softens whenever he sees you, even if it's isn't noticeable to anyone else. It always was to you. He was a good and kind master, but a better friend. In this smile, you see your friend. 

You raise your eyes to meet his and your breath catches. The cerulean ocean you are used to seeing is gone, replaced by molten gold, framed by dark lashes, which seem darker than they used to. Maybe it's just your imagination.

"Remember to breathe, Little Dove. I fear you will pass out if you don't."

You let out a small huff of a laugh as you smile and glance down to your feet. You see him lift his hand to under your chin, raising your eyes back to his. You can see him searching your face for something. He must find it or you are imagining it because he draws away again, offering you his arm to take.

"I believe I offered you a dance, my love. May I have one?"

"Yes, my lord." He leads you out onto the floor. A waltz starts not long after he pulls you into position. As you dance, he keeps you closer to his body than the other partners on the floor. You don't mind, letting yourself melt into his arms for the first time in several months.

Obi Wan was the one who taught you to dance. He had been trying to help you learn to make your movements smoother, more choreographed as you dueled. You kept making jagged, uncoordinated movements that caused you to lose your footing or leave an open spot for someone to strike. Obi had taken your Saber, tossed it and his own to the side, then pulled you in gently. He kept a respectable amount of space between you as he placed your hand on his shoulder and his own on your waist, holding your opposite hand. And he taught you to dance. Slowly, you got the hang of it and he moved back into the forms you were learning. You never lost to him in a duel again.

The dance sessions became almost a regular occurrence. He'd hug you when you were upset and slowly rock you, letting it turn into a silly little dance to make you smile and giggle. He'd kiss your head and twirl you just to make you squeal or blush. Those are his fondest memories of being in the order.

"I have a question for you, Darling."

"I will answer anything you ask of me, Darth Nighte," you respond without hesitation.

He grins widely and lets out a laugh. "You always have, haven't you? My good girl."

You blush slightly and look away from him to hide it. He doesn't like that. He lifts your chin again and raises an eyebrow, warning you not to look away again. 

"Did you pick this gown to get someone's attention?" He says it in a teasing tone but you know what he is asking. Is the dress for him?

The dress you selected for the gala was bought with what little you had saved over the years. You had gone out into the city on one of your rare days off to buy it. It was in the shop window and you'd asked to try it on. It was a long sleeved, dark blue dress with tiny gems to make it appear as though you were a part of the evening sky. It's a bit lower cut in the bust than you thought you'd be comfortable with but seeing the way he admires it, you know it was the right decision.

"I must confess, my lord. I fear I am no longer a good Jedi. You see, I find myself disagreeing with the rules and growing agitated trying to suppress my emotions. It feels like I'm being pulled down a different, new path. I can't stand the rule against attachments. I have found that attachments only make you stronger. Maybe that is what they are afraid of…" you trail off as you realize how much you spoke but he holds your eye contact and nods for you to continue. "I have found myself deeply attached to a lord at this very party and I had hoped he'd find the dress pleasing."

"I'm sure he does, my darling. Do I know this lord, do you think?" He knows. He always does.

You smile and glance around as though making sure no one was listening, "I think you know him very well, my lord." 

"Then I suppose I'll leave you to him." He starts to release you but you grip onto him tighter. He laughs again, a sound you truly and sorely missed.

Together, you and Obi Wan danced for several more songs. You talk occasionally but mostly bask in the comfort you bring each other. As the night dwindles on and draws to a close, you know you have a decision to make. A path to choose.

Obi Wan senses your panic and turmoil. He searches your eyes again before leading you off the dance floor to a little alcove on the side of the ballroom. He presses you back against the wall and lets his body tower over yours. 

"My angel, you do not have to do anything you don't wish to. I don't intend to steal you away and hide you from the galaxy. It is your decision. This is your life. Lead it how you wish to. No matter what you decide, I will always love and support you. Even if I must do so from afar." He leans down and presses his forehead to yours. You can feel the love in his signature. True love. Pure love. How can a feeling so pure be so bad? 

Lifting your chin slightly, you let your nose brush his and hear his quick intake of breath. He leans further into you slowly, giving you time to pull away from him. To say no.

You never will.

He lets his lips brush yours. It's gentle, simple, peaceful. He lets you decide how to proceed. Slowly, your hands move from where you had pressed them to his chest up into his hair to pull him closer. He hums in pleasure and pushes you further into the alcove. He kisses you the way you imagined he would. Gentle but dominant. Kind but leading. Persuasive. The Great Negotiator, indeed.

You pull away first, needing to breathe. He lets you go but keeps his forehead against yours. 

"Obi?" You whisper to him.

"Sweet One?" He responds.

"Am I ready now?"

"That, my dearest little dove, is not a question I can answer for you."

You nod, feeling the tears form. His hand is holding your cheek and jaw on one side. He can feel when they start to fall. He coos gently and pulls you into his chest, whispering reassurances and words of love.

"I don't want you to go again. It hurts when you go, my Obi." You mutter through the tears. Obi Wan pulls away enough to hold your face with both hands.

"I don't have to. You can come with me, Darling. I have a place for us. It's safe and quiet and peaceful. It's perfect. I made sure it's perfect for you. All you have to do is say yes. Little Dove, you can stay with me. Come with me."

His voice isn't commanding or ordering you. It's… begging. He's begging you to stay with him.

Sniffling and wiping your eyes, you look up at his eyes. They're no longer gold the way they were before. They're darker now. Green. Your breathing picks up as you kiss him again. It's a soft, quick kiss. He reciprocates, waiting for your decision.

"Home?" You ask him. He smiles against your lips and nods.

"Home." 

"Obi Wan. Take me home."

The burst of joy in his signature is more than enough to convince you that this was the right decision. He kisses you fiercely before retreating and standing up straight. A lord once again. Offering you his arm, he leads you back into the public eye.

As he escorts you through the front doors of the building and towards the hanger, you are stopped by a voice yelling your name. Your Jedi babysitter. You forgot about him. Obi Wan stiffens as he hears it as well, turning his head just enough to see the man behind you. You try to keep going but Obi Wan has stopped. Your panic is beginning to rise again. You'll never be free.

"You are to return to the Temple with me immediately, Young Padawan. This is not a debate."

"I-" 

"My apologies, Jedi, but I believe she has made her decision." Obi Wan's voice is calm but there is a hint of a threat in it. He's daring the man to oppose him.

"I'm sorry, Senator, but that will not be happening. She has been asked to return to the Temple."

"Senator? Do you hear that, my darling? Senator. The level of disrespect tossed about by the Order is truly insulting. He doesn't even know my name."

You keep your eyes on Obi, pleading with him through your signature to just take you and go. In your bones, you knew it wouldn't be this easy. If only.

Obi Wan turns and the Jedi recognizes him. His eyes, now returned to gold, are a dead giveaway. The Jedi draws his weapon and beckons you over, holding his hand out as he calls your name again. 

"This man is not who you think he is, Padawan. Come with me." He reaches for you again but you take a step back, closer to Obi Wan. 

"Maybe I'm not who you thought I was, Master. Or… I think perhaps I am." Glancing up at Obi, you see him watching you with curiosity and… hope. You haven't seen hope in so long you almost don't recognize it. 

Your Obi nods at you, just once, and takes a step back. The Jedi is gazing at the both of you with confusion and horror as you look at Obi Wan.

"I told you already, Little Dove. This is your decision. No one can make it for you." His voice calms you. There's no malice in it when he directs it at you.

"He's trying to trick you, Padawan. It's time to go now." The Jedi got close enough to grab your wrist and begin to pull you away. The moment he touches you, your lightsaber is in your hand and the Jedi is screaming. You open your eyes and see the man's arm on the ground between you. His lightsaber falls from his other hand and Obi Wan comes to pick it up. You feel your hands shaking as you watch him replace the Jedi's Saber on his belt before reaching a hand out to you. 

"Are you ready now, darling?"

You look between Obi's hand and the man's arm and then at the blood on your gown. You take Obi Wan's hand and leave the Jedi kneeling on the ground of the hanger as you're taken onto your love's ship. He sits you down and pulls off his cape, draping it over you. It's heavier than it looked. He helps to strap you into the co-pilot seat before getting into the pilot seat.

As the ship lifts off, you catch a reflection in the glass of the cockpit window. Your eyes are surrounded by a ring of gold.

You feel Obi Wan take your hand as you reach hyperspace and let him smooth his thumb over your knuckles. You glance up at his beautiful eyes and see they are the blue you missed. You realize something that nearly brings you to tears again. You've been on your own for most of your life, especially when it got hard.

You don't have to be alone anymore. You have your Obi Wan.

~~~~~

@meshlasolus @vi-does-stuff @star-whores-a-new-hoe @turtlelover59 @lowkeyorloki 

[sharklovingaquarist]

Ok guys so this is gonna be a long one but Im going to talk about

Male apathy during pregnancy and post partum

Post partum mental distress

How the medical system fails women

How men should do their part

So I just saw a post by a man talking about how men downplay the process of reproduction, and yeah, duh - BUT I've come to a conclusion. There are two types of expectant/new father in this world: the type that treats his wife like a toy or the type that treats his wife like a cute pet and claps for her from the sidelines. "Yeah babe ur so strong" while not doing shit. So in this post, the guy is like "errrrr fellow males, did you know that the nutrients actually come from your wife's body?!?!" Like how is that not common knowledge? The uterus doesn't have little claw arms building a fetus. An embryo is created by a male and female, and that embryo attaches to the uterus and LEECHES from the female bloodstream.

He then he goes on to talk about how much blood we can lose during vaginal birth and c-sections, and Imma just say here and now that the medical system sucks ass. Yeah, birth sucks. Pregnancy sucks. But I kinda hate how people pass of a lot of the pain as a fact of life. The fact is that the medical system is vastly male, and males who put their poorly hidden fetishes into practices (I did veterinary science in highschool, and it was even prevalent there... vaginal speculums and artificial insem- 🤢) I'm sure we've all heard humans should stand to deliver a child. The high death statistic for women in childbirth (also explained by more black women dying than white), the lack of knowledge on the female body, and the priority of babies over women all tells me one thing: Birth is certainly painful, but it may be more dangerous than it should be. My honest opinion is that death rates exploded once men infiltrated our care due to their view of us as a vessel. Maybe if the medical system focused on helping us rather than letting a fetus escape its "flesh box", then we'd be somewhere.

And finally... he talked about post partum mental health... so I've been wanting to talk about this. It has recently become noticeable to me that human females have a hard time mentally after the birth of children meanwhile most animal females don't. Sure, there are cases where animals abandon offspring, but I chalk that up to not being prepared to care for offspring. Nature usually prioritizes an adult over a newborn. Also the abandonment of offspring is something I only really hear about in domesticated animals (and animals in zoos so environmental distress or lack of knowledge), of whom we have fucked over in so many ways through selective breeding. Shit even domestic bettas and angelfish, who are usually good parents, have this issue in domestication. But why is it that other animals don't have nearly as many post partum issues as humans. I'll say it, I believe post partum mental distress is largely due to societal dynamics. Sure, hormones are off, but the society we live in only fuels this. It's like when you're on your period. You feel off but it's more a loss of tolerance. The rise in estrogen near and after birth can cause you to already be a bit unbalanced, but let's add some situations onto it. You're going to be the primary caretaker because of modern male incompetence, then you're going to lose sleep which causes more instability, then you're expected to still cook and clean, and men in most countries don't get paternity (ohhhh I wanna tell yall a story about that so baddddd... its in the comments if ur up for it) so youre left alone with a screaming child while trying to heal and getting no sleep and probably not seeing the sun because youre busy and thats a major mood stabilizer (as someone with a mood disorder) all for the father to come home and play with the infant and pass it right back to you. And we haven't even gotten into the culture surrounding it. Women are expected to put on a loving maternal persona while fathers remain the same. For men being a father is prideful and gives you all these positive characteristics like strength... but for mothers your mind is deemed more simplistic, your identity is erased. People see pregnancy and motherhood as a performance and you are the lead actress. Youre treated differently, percieved differently, and thats fueled by bioessentialism. New moms do not feel more "loving" towards an infant than new fathers. Both secrete oxytocin, it comes with the monogamous, biparental animal package dumbass. Why would I be more loving towards something that sucks my boob off and ripped me open. So while I'm not trying to discredit post partum depression, I'm absolutely saying that societal issues are the pushing force. Im also pretty sure post partum statistics fluctuate based on country, and that in countries with paternity and a more equal dynamic have lower cases. But I'm not mentally stable enough myself to look into it, I know "trust me bro" type shit.

In conclusion 🤓 I'm tired of people seeing female pain and not finding ways to help it. The female body is strong, but it also needs care. You wouldn't expect a person with a broken leg to win a marathon. That's the whole reason males stay with females is to. Do. Their. Part. Idc if I'm picky, but literally, any talk on kids or pregnancy leaves me so dissatisfied. Expect men to start acting like an expectant father and partner during pregnancy. Your job is to comfort, provide, learn how to ease pains, provide emotional labor, drive and GO TO appointments (I think if it was even really "about life" they would look into male health too but that's a convo for another day), pay for appointments, be ready to help in case an emergency, so much more. Cuz it's always "don't drink while pregnant!" But how come the baby daddy can be at the bar with his friends? What if I go into labor? He needs to stay sober too I'm not his broodmare! The way men act like it has nothing to do with them because "well uhhhh I not carry a baby 🤷‍♂️" makes me so mad. As a new father too, they think "well man don't feed baby 🤤" like there isn't so much more. Imo, the man should be doing housework, taking care of the infant besides breastfeeding, and caring for a post partum partner. Even with breastfeeding, you can be involved. Take the infant when it's done eating, sit with your partner, provide company, and bond with your family. I've come to the conclusion that men don't want partners they want a collection. Men cannot accept that they have a weaker role while still being involved. Either he's big strong man or it's weak and my business. And the men that cheer from the side see it as "well she does most of it so that obviously means it's all her business but I'll just tell her she's soooooo strong" not like... telling other men how to do their job. Men are pathetic. Want credit for zero effort.

[herunswithscissors]

I'm the wife in my marriage.

It's funny to me anyway. Funny to me because my wife is the very picture of femininity, loving, caring, sexy, pretty, beautiful wife, loving and adored by all her children. And a satisfied and hot for her husband.

But to me she is beautiful and terrible as the Dawn! Treacherous as the Seas! Stronger than the foundations of the Earth! All shall love her and despair!

And yet she chose me.

So to all the hella ladies who rejected my advances? Y'all missed out. Because she saw in me what way too many people couldn't. And sometimes still can't.

And she wants to run my life. And the lives of our whole family. And we all kinda love it. Mostly. But it ain't worth the headache or heartache of fighting her on anything. She's Daddy's little princess and her mother is the loving matron and queen bitch of the family and we all stay in line. Mostly. I love to do my own thing too much for my own good. But it keeps our fights about stupid stuff instead of my weed use again.

(I'm dead ass functional and present from 6am on till I finally get my insomniac ass too sleep while high just to escape the constant anxiety about my sick daughter's upcoming surgery, my dying suegro, my mourning wife, disturbed autistic son, special needs princess Daddy's girl I'm spoiling her to death to make her just as powerful and ungovernable mother and it's working too well already. Have you ever negotiated with a hostile bitchy entitled as fuck child? )

Anyway, you wouldn't know it looking at me or talking normal chitchat, but I'm pretty fucking manly. In the way my culture defines manliness. I'm not very masculine. But I'm very manly.

I'm feminine as fuck in my household. I mother the kids, help their emotional development, work on my wife's emotional and mental well-being, and I'm the one never in the mood for sex. And I do every single thing she says. And then she does the discipline and management of the family's affairs. And she's the one who has to seduce me. Did I mention she was sexy as fuck? (While I'm awkward as fuck every time we even roleplay.) And a horny Latina. (That's why these horny sexy, nice, Latinos are taking over. It's natural selection. The Whites just can't compete and as usual are getting their panties in a twist over not being able to compete even with everything in their favor to out reproduce them all but it was too many kids for a nuclear family to handle Whites.) So beautiful hot queen sexy as fuck Latina seduces me every night. #blessed. So fuck yeah I don't wanna fuck up this arrangement. So I do everything she tells me to and treat her real good and let her win every argument and over apologize. Except when I make a rare exception to make a stand in something important or just to make some trouble and have some fun.

Oh yeah. She's a clean freak 😮‍💨 But she's an impatient Latina housewife perfectionist clean freak. So she gets mad at my perfectly good job when company isn't ever coming job and tells me to stop even trying to clean. Go play Minecraft with your daughter to keep her occupied.🤣

I have the best living situation ever. I'll be your bitch my bitchy highness. Just please keep playing with my hair on your lap. Oh, and that sucking my dick the way you do and being right 95% of the time on judgement calls.

So yeah I'm the wife.

And I got a pretty good life.

[themistressdomme]

My eyes widen as I see the toys you selected and I let out a whimper, you can see the slightest tremble of my legs but I keep them spread. The toys look huge when I think back to your strap but my cunt tightens at the thought of you pushing them inside of me. And I also don’t know which hole you will decide to use first. My thoughts are answered as you take out a bottle of lube and push me onto my stomach and hand me a couple pillows to push underneath me, lifting my ass up. “Mommy pleaseee” I beg impatiently, (or maybe I call you Mistress, wanting your sadistic side to completely ruin me). Pretty toys should know better and be patient and wait right? Thankful to be used so good and not greedy for more cause they will learn to regret it. With my ass presented right infront if you it is the perfect position for you smack my ass a couple times. Maybe more than a couple times, maybe one slap for each ass check for every orgasm, or for every time I begged for an orgasm. I already have a pretty mark around my neck from your hands, another set of your handprints on my ass would match so good!Make my ass burn and red with your palm or a paddle, until you see my wetness leaking onto the pillows, reminding me what a slutty doll I am for Mommy.

Using the wetness of my cunt to coat the plug, or using my mouth so I can suck on it and leave it covered in my drool so you can push it into my ass. Gently press it against my puckered hole until it gives in and you hear me whine as it closes around the base, keeping it inside me. Maybe now you can add another couple spanks, so my ass squeezes down on the plug making me moan and whimper with every slap but also begging you to fuck my neglected pussy that is leaving trails of wetness on my legs from how needy I am. Lifting my hips up so I can get my knees under my body, almost on all four just with my face pressed into the matress lifting up my ass higher, giving you the perfect view of my plugged ass and cunt. Choosing a dildo or another strap to press against my entrance as I gasp, the plug causing my pussy to be extra tight. But you hear my muffled “mommy pleaseee” against the pillow and can’t resist pushing more inside, letting me feel the delicious stretch of my cunt around the dildo as you whisper in my ear to stay still and be a good toy for Mommy and as I whine at your words pushing it all the way inside, making my legs buckle. I can’t seem to stop moaning and whimpering at the new feeling of having both my holes filled up, my cunt making obscene squelching sounds from how wet but also how stuffed I am.

Keeping both toys inside me letting me get used to the stretch, but you shouldn’t get bored, I still have another hole to use. You could lean your body over mine, grabbing my long hair to arch my back, or wrap your hand around my neck again before slipping your fingers into my mouth, filling all my holes for you. Hearing my sweet moans and gags as you push deeper, rubbing your fingers against my tongue. Letting you hear the lewd noises I make while being stuffed so full with you Mommy, every hole yours to use. And when your other hand reaches my clit to pinch and rub cumming all over your hand. Then toying with the plug making me squirm, pulling it out till the widest part then pushing it back inside. Giving my ass slaps whenever I move too much, whispering in my ear to stay still like a good doll and let Mommy fuck that hole, needing to get it ready for Mommy’s strap. My whimpers are a result of the anticipated and neediness I feel pooling in my stomach at the mention of getting my ass fucked by you too, realising Mommy will have claimed each and every hole. When you pop the plug out my ass already has a small gape before pushing in a slightly bigger plug, telling me soon Mommy’s strap will fit right in.

Now that my ass is plugged you roll me over so I can spread my legs again for you, maybe you take your time tying my arms and legs together to give you a nice view of my holes. The bigger dildo is suddenly in your hand, and so is a small vibrator. I shudder at the size of the toy but judging by the dripping wet pussy I am definitely a slut for big toys stretching my holes. How about you start counting my orgasms by leaving a hickey somewhere on my body each time? So next time you fuck me you trace the marks with your finger and tell me I have to cum more than that cause you want to leave more marks on me. The vibrator get’s pressed onto my clit making sure to fasten it with rope while the tip of the dildo is pushed against my entrance. I whine and tell you it won’t fit, the tip already stretching me out so much but you keep pushing slowly but surely. The tip is enough to leave me breathless and you waste no time continuously slipping it inside me. Once it’s halfway in you lean down on me, my hands desperately trying to reach your warm skin, to touch you, trying to lift my head to reach your lips until they come clashing down on mine, letting me nibble on your lower lip until I feel both our lips are bruised. You lift your head up slightly for air and when you lean down again you nibble on my jawline all the way to my ear to whisper into my ear “I can feel how close you are, your cunt is making a mess all over the bedsheets. Mommy’s wants you to cum but once you do, I will fill you up all the way with the dildo, Mommy’s gonna fill up that pretty pussy of yours baby, be a good toy and take it, cum for Mommy”.

And whilst I struggle to comprehend your words in my dazzy mind I’m already on the edge, vibrations unrelenting buzzing against my clit and my pussy squeezing around the big intrusion, you keep placing kisses on my face, patiently waiting. And as you see my eyes rolling back, my moans growing more desperate, my legs shaking, you press your whole weight onto me while pushing the remaining inches of the dildo inside me, watching my legs kicking as I orgasm violently, hips buckling off the bed, your lips pressed against mine to swallow my scream as I cum, clit overstimulated as the vibrations keep buzzing and your body keeps me from moving away. Keep me stuffed so full my stomach has a nice bulge from the dildo and my clit is swollen and puffy, until my voice is hoarse from screaming and I beg you to please use my mouth and ass, to give my pussy a break while you fuck me, “please Mommy fuck my ass! Please I want it to be used by you too, fill me up with your cock please!”

Content warning: anal, degradation ("slut, whore"), objectification ("pretty thing, sweet thing, toy, fuckdoll"), three holes being filled, sizeslut

Find part 1 here.

Oh, my, my sweetest toy. I've been making myself wait to read this right until I had the time to respond, because otherwise, I'd be sitting here for hours drooling at this little scene you've put into my head. What a devious little imagination you have, hm? Mommy's perfect little fuckdoll.

I'd snicker at the way your pretty eyes widen for Mommy when you see the assortment of toys I pull out, intending to use every single one on you. On whichever hole I want, and I'd make sure to test out all their vibrating functions and modes on your poor little clit. As you said in part 1, a wet pussy is one that needs to be used over, and over, and over again. Your cunt sure will tighten around absolutely nothing, hm? Looking at the sizes of all the toys I've pulled out? Aren't they so pretty, darling? All these toys to use on Mommy's personal toy. You're such a sizeslut for me, aren't you? No need to answer that - your dripping mess tells me plenty enough.

Maybe I'm nice and I decide to give your poor pussy a break for a few seconds - after all, it's been rammed into my Mommy, hasn't it? That's a good girl. I'll grab you, spinning you around so your back is pressed to my front, my hand coming up to wrap around your neck once more. "Mommy's prettiest fucktoy," I'll whisper into your ear, as I squeeze my hand, making your head start to feel deliciously fuzzy again.

I'll shove my pretty toy away from me, so you land pretty on the bed for Mommy, before I yank your hips toward me: ass up, head down, such a pretty sight, aren't you? I'll stack some pillows under your tummy - you're sure going to need it when I start playing with every single one of your holes. Your arms are surely going to go limp and give out under you, hm?

You call me Mistress when I have you like this, sweet toy of mine, and you might just be signing the death of your cute little holes 😈 So do decide carefully 😉 And yes, darling, pretty toys don't talk back. They don't plead. All they do is make those sweet, sweet noises and take what's given to them. Whatever that is. So be a good toy for Mommy, hm? Or I might just have to spank the whininess out of you. Maybe I ought to grab my paddle, the one that will imprint "SL♡T" on your ass every time I spank you with it. You really will be the prettiest slut for Mommy, don't you think? May as well have that imprinted onto your ass, sweet thing ;) Oh, you're so thankful that you're leaking for me, hm? Even after all those times you came, fucked into the couch? What a perfect, fuckdoll of a whore you are for Mommy. Mommy's toy to use and fill.

I'd pull your hair toward me, so your pretty head has to lift. I control even your movements, doll. When your back is flush against my front once more, I'll take a pretty plug and force it into your awaiting mouth. "Make it nice and wet for Mommy; drool on it, sweet thing, or it'll hurt when I plug your pretty little hole with it. Go on, show me what that mouth of yours can do. You're just a slut for Mommy, after all, aren't you?"

When it's nice and coated in your drool, a string of saliva leaving your mouth pathetically when I pull it out from you, I'll shove you forward again. "Get into your proper position, toy. Mommy wants to see every inch of every hole exposed."

Ass up and your wetness smearing over your thighs and pillows, I'll gently rest the plug against your pretty hole. "Are you ready for your ass to be trained, doll? Mommy has so many big plans for it today."

I'll start gently working it into you, pressing on it slowly but firmly. You're going to make the prettiest noises for me; gasp and moan so beautifully when the widest part stretches you open, won't you? That's right, that's my good toy. Such lovely sound effects my toy comes with.

When it's all the way in and your ass is fully plugged by Mommy, I'll sit back and admire just how pretty you look with your hole sparkling like that. I'll be tempted to spank your ass a few more times - now, with my hand. You can have "SL♡T" on one ass cheek, and Mommy's perfect handprint on your other. You're owned, doll, aren't you? Now, every time your holes clench pathetically, you'll be able to feel the intrusion in your ass, and remember that that hole is in use by Mommy.

"Please, Mommy, fuck my pussy!"

I'd chuckle lowly at how pathetic and whiny you sound. I'd just fucked your pussy twice, after all, hm? Not enough for my slut?

But, alas, I can play nice, sometimes. Your wish will come true, sweet thing. I'll grab one of the big dildos, teasing your entrance with its head. You'll be so pathetically soaked, won't you? Your hole will be so tight for Mommy, the plug in your ass ensuring it. Oh, I'm going to have so much fun stretching your cunt open for me again. Maybe for a second, I'll be doubtful as to whether my toy can take such a big toy in her cunt whilst her ass is being stretched. But your pretty moans and begs will soon make it clear that you want nothing more than to be filled and used, with every single one of your holes available to me. With that, I'll push on the dildo, easing the head in. My god, toy, you'll be so deliciously tight for me, I might groan when I feel the resistance.

"Shh, shh, no, doll, be a good little toy for Mommy and stay the fuck still when I'm using your cunt. Good toys don't squirm around. Good toys give their holes to Mommy to be used and filled to my desire."

Oh my. The pretty noises that your stupidly wet cunt would make for me, hm? Handling the fill like the obedient little toy you are. Inch by inch, your hitched breath and tiny mewls filling the room. Don't worry, doll, as much as I want to fill you, I'm going to take my time. I take good care of my toys, after all.

When I bottom out in you, I'm sure your eyes will be at the back of your skull, hm? Seeing stars yet, angel? I'll let you get used to it, get used to the stretch, my pretty toy. Maybe I ought to just leave it in there, making your cockwarm it, as I reach forward to grab your hair and yank you back once more, hm? I bet the change in position, you now straddling it, will make the dildo shift, filling you even deeper. That's a good slut. I knew you could take it like this.

"Suck," I'll hiss into your pretty ear, shoving three of my fingers into your pretty mouth. Let Mommy fuck your mouth as your cunt gets used to being stretched out like the slut you are, hm? I'll start slow, but eventually, I wouldn't be able to hold myself back from fucking into your mouth harshly. You'll make the prettiest noises when you're gagging on my fingers, won't you? "Keep going, sweetheart, Mommy's going to play with your swollen clit now, okay? Oh my, you're really swollen and puffy, hm? Is this from all the times I spanked your pussy earlier?"

When your hips start moving too much for my liking, I'll remove my hand from toying with your pretty clit. I'll start toying with the plug, pressing on it, wiggling it. I'm sure that'll make you feel new things, hm? I'll hold the base of the plug, getting a firm grip on it, before slowly starting to pull it out. At the widest point, you'll be squirming like a pathetic little thing for Mommy. I'll push it back in; keep repeating that agonizing process. You'll be such a pretty mess, drooling around my fingers, whimpering and whining. Some might think it's too much, but no, sweet thing, I know my toy - you just want to be fucked, don't you? You need something to move, hm?

"Tsk. Shh, stay still for me, sweet toy. Mommy needs to adequately prepare this hole, hm? I'm merely getting it ready to take my thick strap. Now lie pretty for Mommy whilst she does just that." And maybe a harsh smack on your pretty ass.

Soon, I deem your pretty hole ready for an upgrade 😘 I pull the plug out, slowly, and you'll mewl pathetically at the loss of feeling full, wont' you? I'll immediately grab a bigger plug, coating it in some lube before I bring it over to your ass.

"Goodness, my slut, your pretty ass is gaping for me already. Such a pretty, pink hole for Mommy to stuff. You take your ass training so well, don't you, sweet? Mommy's strap is going to fit so well so soon You'll be thanking me when I push my cock into this hole, sweet."

One final smack to your pretty, red ass, I'll flip you over, grabbing each of your legs and spreading you eagle for me. I want to admire how pathetic you look when you have two of your holes filled by Mommy. I'll push on the dildo a few times, smirking as I watch your head drop and eyes roll back. But almost as soon as you feel it, I'll pull it out, leaving you empty and hollow. "Aw, don't frown, my sweet toy. Look," I gesture, holding up the biggest dildo I have on hand. "I'm going to make this fit now."

You look at me with wide eyes once more, a small shiver visible as you take in its size. But I can see what a slut your are - I can see your pussy clenching around nothing, more of your wetness dripping out of your pretty hole, all in anticipation of being stretched with an even bigger toy.

I dip down, tracing your cunt with my hot tongue - nowhere near where you need me. This is for my enjoyment, after all. I'll nip and suckle at your inner thighs, finding all your sensitive spots. I'll leave small, dark, round marks there, one for every time you've cum for me thus far. So that next time, exactly as you want, we'll have a threshold to cross, hm? "Look, princess. Five marks Mommy left. This means that today, you have to cum at least six times. I'm not stopping before that."

I'll grab some red rope that I have lying inside my box. "Mommy's going to tie you up now, so you'll be all pretty for me, okay?" I'll tie your arms down, so they can't hinder with what I have planned for you. I'll tie your legs open so that they can't close either - would be a shame if they could close, with Mommy's grand plans and all, hm? I'll fasten a wand onto your thigh, so its head is pressed perfectly against your clit. "Today, Mommy's going to turn you into an overstimulated, well fucked-out mess. You're going to look so pretty when you're writhing and screaming for Mommy."

I turn the vibrator on, just on the lowest setting, to tease you whilst I get onto my next task: fitting my biggest cock into your tight cunt.

"Mommy, it won't fit," you whine half-heartedly, trying to wiggle your hips away from me. But alas, you're tied down, and your attempts only make me sadistically grin.

"Shh, baby, don't worry, Mommy will make it fit."

I position the tip, aligning it with your cunt, and you keep mewling, protesting me. But I can hear your gasps polluting your attempts, and you know that it feels oh-so-good when the head slowly starts to stretch you out, with the tiniest hint of pain. I keep pushing on it, and eventually, the head slides into your dripping cunt.

"Mommy wants to see a perfect tummy bulge in her slut, love, you're going to take it so well for me."

I continue to push it in, until it's halfway in, and you're trying to move your hips to get it in deeper. My poor little whore. I hold it in place and dip down, my lips closing in onto yours. Go ahead, pretty thing. Nip at Mommy's lower lip all you want. I'm just here to see how pretty you sound when you're stretched out so deliciously for me. I use my cheek to push your head to the side, nipping and sucking at your neck and your earlobes. I can that your close - your cunt is leaking stupidly and you're trembling, trying to hold your high at bay. Mommy didn't give permission, after all. Smirking sinisterly, I ramp up the wand's vibrations to the third one - the one that's a constant, strong buzz.

"I'm going to let you cum, my sweet slut, but once you do, I'm going to fuck into you all the way with this cock. You're such a sizeslut for Mommy, you can take it. Now, cum for Mommy, be a good little toy, cum."

Oh, my sweet thing. Mommy's going to be so patient and watch you as the few neurons left functioning connect the dots. I'll place soft kisses all over your scrunched up face, watching you as chase after your high. The moment I see your eyes rolling back, previously soft mewls becoming louder and more uncared, body shaking... I'll push the remaining inches into you, fucking into you hard. I bet if your legs weren't tied down, they'd put on a delicious show of bucking your sweet hips off of the bed, hm?

You do you, I'm just going to be admiring the tummy bulge that I've put in you. And the way you'd be desperately squirming, the sensation on your clit become too much. I wonder how long it'll be before you're screaming out to please, please, have mercy on you, hm? To give your poor clit a break? To give your stretched out pussy a break?

"Oh, doll, I bet by now, your ass is perfectly primed for Mommy's cock," I'd tease sadistically, my hands soft I turn off the wand and slowly pull out of your soaked cunt. You'd have made such a mess for me, wouldn't you? I'll take my sweet time untying you, gently massaging the areas where the rope's tension was taut.

"Do you need anything, sweet thing?" I'd ask softly, kissing your cheek, and then your ear. "Water? Kisses?"

I'll give you a gentle forehead kiss, "You're doing so well for me, sweet thing, you're such a good girl for Mommy. Such a good toy." I'd hand you some water, make you take a few sips.

After checking in with you again, I'd turn you over. Take out the pretty plug from your ass, watching you shake when the thickest part is rimming you. You'd gape so beautifully for me, wouldn't you? "All that training has led up to this moment, sweet thing. You're going to take Mommy's cock in your ass now, and you're going to thank me for every single inch."

I'd start slow. But you're my desperate little slut who just wants to feel Mommy in her ass, aren't you? Would you push back, darling? Try and wiggle your way down Mommy's strap?

Once I bottom out in your pretty ass, I'd wait. See if you're feeling anything other than pleasure. When you start moaning, trying to move your hips and fuck yourself on my cock, I'd smack your ass, telling you, "Good toys don't fuck themselves. They wait to be fucked."

I'll grab your hips, and start a slow rhythm. "Face down, darling, Mommy wants to see your pretty ass up in the air."

I'll speed up when your whimpers turn into, "Please, Mommy, fuck my ass faster, please!" I'd tell you how pretty you sound for me, whining and begging to be fucked so lewdly like this.

"Please, Mommy, may I touch my clit? I'm so close, Mommy."

"No, sweet thing. You're going to learn to cum just from getting your ass fucked. It's that, or nothing at all."

My fingers will leave tiny bruises on your hips from being gripped so harshly. I'll pound into your pretty ass, and my god, won't you gape so pretty for me after, sweet toy? I just know you will.

You're going to cum for me, just from being a cockslut. Your holes are mine to fill, and I've filled them so many times today, haven't I?

Maybe you'll need some more encouragement, hm? I'll yank your hair back again, bringing you up. I'll close my hand around your pretty neck, squeezing hard at the sides. The delicious, fuzzy feeling of being choked like that, whilst your ass is being pounded into? I'm sure you'll cum for Mommy, sweet thing, you are such a good toy, after all. Mommy will be sure to fuck you through your orgasm, not stopping until your body has stopped spasming and shaking. When you finally go limp in my arms, I'll stop thrusting. I'll stay inside you a minute longer, just to keep my personal little fucktoy filled up for as long as I can.

After that, I bet your pussy will be leaking all over again, from having your ass toyed with like that, hm? Maybe I'll lie you down; taste you with my tongue, cleaning you up as I tell you just how sweet my toy tastes. Maybe you'll be too sensitive, you can't cum again. That's okay, sweet girl, you did so, so well for me. You deserve all the praise in the world, sweetheart. Come here. I'll wrap you up in my arms, bringing your legs to straddle me. Will you still be twitching every once in a while from the aftershocks?

I'll place soft kisses all over your neck, your chest, your face, anywhere my lips can reach. Slowly, making sure to cover every inch of your perfect self.

"You did so well for me, darling, so good. You're such a good girl, angel, thank you for the trust," I'd whisper across your body, punctuating it with a few more kisses to your face. Tuck your face into Mommy's neck and let's just take a minute to breathe, hm?

When I can feel you grounding yourself, I'll carry you to the bath, love. Let's take a long, relaxing bath together, hm? I'll wash away the events of the night gently, holding you close to me, whispering praise into our shared space every now and then. "You did so good for me, love."

I'll rinse you off, wrap you in a warm robe, and lead you to the couch. I'll change the sheets and lay out something you can sleep in. I'll de-robe you, inspecting your perfect body for any marks that might need some soothing cream, or a little extra attention. Then, we can get under the crisp sheets and I'll hold you close, if that's what you want. Maybe we should order some food, or put on a show as background noise so we can decompress? Whatever you want and need, love, I will do to the best of my abilities 🥰

Thank you so much for being patient with me, love! I hope this 3k+ response makes up for it! 🤗 I honestly had so much fun!!

[silveryclear]

STNAF Coraline AU ch. 4

MDNI ALL CONTENT REGARDING STNAF IS 18+ AND SO IS THIS BLOG

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

CW: Torture, Kidnapping, Obsessive Behavior, Dark Themes

Chapter 4

"Have you been eating anything besides alcohol and junk food?" Carter's concerned voice sounds through your phone.

"Wha- of course I have! Why, I'm doing some grocery shopping right now!" You say with a huff as you push your shopping cart through the isles of the supermarket.

This morning, as soon as you came to, you ran over to Friend without a moment to lose. You jump out of the other room and surprise Friend as the words tumble out of you, worried that a phone call could interrupt you any second now. "Friend! This evening. Dinner. Here. You and me. you in?" Smooth.

His eyes return to normal as the initial surprise of your sudden appearance fades away. He chuckles in amusement. "Well, how could I say no to my favorite Neanderthal~?" After saying those words, his phone rings and he heads off to work. However, not before kissing your forehead and smiling with excitement at you. "Can't wait to see what you've got in store~"

Afterwards, you head to the supermarket and on your way, you call Carter and tell him about everything that has transpired since your last phone call; including your strange reocurring dreams.

Now you're more than halfway through your shopping as you enter the alcohol isle, browsing through the store's selection.

"Only because it's part of your plan." Carter says and you roll your eyes. "I'm just saying, your diet these days could be the reason why you're having those wacky ass dreams. And your obsession with procrastinating your confession definitely doesn't help."

"I'm doing something about it now, aren't I?" You say as you look at the wine prices and wince. "Besides, the dreams weren't all that bad. They gave me the idea for this plan!"

He sighs. You could sense something underlying in his tone, but choose not to comment on it. "True. I guess it isn't all that bad as long you stay in this reality and don't actually fall in love with a figment of your imagination." He ends with a laugh.

"I'm not in love with him!" You say through the phone pointedly. "And what about your fictional game characters?" You raise your eyebrow.

Carter is quiet for a few seconds before bashfully murmurs, "...that's different."

You snort. "Yeah? How so?"

"I wasn't the one who created them."

You scoff. "Tecnicality! Fictional is fictional!"

Carter groans through the phone. "Fine, whatever. But reality sucks, can you blame me?"

"Not at all. Reality definitely sucks." You pick up a bottle of wine and almost shed a tear. "I mean, look at these wine prices! Seriously, I'm willing to look up a tutorial just to avoid paying this much."

"I'd say skip the wine all together. You've had enough alcohol these past few days."

You narrow your eyes and grumble while placing the bottle back on the shelf. "I'd argue, but my wallet is begging for mercy, so I'll let it slide."

You can hear Carter's smooth laugh through the phone and you laugh along. He's more on the reserved side, so the chances that you got to hear him laugh while getting to know him were slim to none. But now that you've known each other for a long time, its safe to say that it's one of your favorite sounds in the world. It makes you feel incredibly lucky to have met him and grateful that such an amazing person is your friend.

Carter goes on to tell you about his day while you finish your grocery shopping. His deep voice is comforting just like ASMR and you can’t help but let your thoughts wander. You think back to when you two met in college and how, during your time together, you became really close friends. You were sure if you didn’t have a big crush on Friend, your friendship with Carter would have progressed into something more.

You shake your head and continue to converse with Carter as you went on with your day. However, by the time the preparations were all set and done, Friend was nowhere to be seen.

You look at yourself in the mirror, all nice and dressed up for your date. What should be an exciting and slightly nervous occasion, felt more like a wave of anxiety and disappointment over your body.

You try to give yourself a smile and whisper in the mirror, “It’s okay, he’s probably running late. That’s just how he is…” Yet, the words felt like sandpaper as they left your lips.

Minutes turn into hours, the evening turns into night. You stay seated at the table, staring blankly at the empty seat before you, your homemade food cold and long forgotten. You look down at your phone, staring at the unread text messages you sent Friend. You try to call him for the fifteenth time, only to be greeted once again by his voicemail.

Tears slowly begin to fall as you come to the harsh realization that Friend isn’t coming. Although there could be a perfectly logical explanation for his lack of appearance, your mind could not think of any as it fell further into a spiral hurt and rejection. Embarrassment also began to seep in as you realize how much work you not only put into the food and decor, but also yourself. You feel humiliated as you look at yourself in the mirror once again and you could only run straight to your room and crawl into the bed as you sob, clutching the bunny plushie that always gave you a semblance comfort.

In the middle of your crying session, you pick up your phone and dial the number of the person you know that will provide you comfort.

“Carterrrrr…” you sniffle and sob through your phone.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying? Aren’t you supposed to be on your date with Friend?” Carter’s smooth voice sounded concerned.

”He… he didn’t come. He’s not answering my texts or calls…”

”What?! I’m going to kill him…”

”Carter, I can’t be here right now… I can’t face him after this…”

”Just.. hang on for now, alright? I’m going to pick you up.”

You see the door you thought was only part of your dream open by itself, a soft glow beckoning you to go through it as you did your first night.

”Carter…?”

”Yeah?” You can hear his car engine in the background and his out of breath voice.

”The door… it opened…”

"What? What door?”

”…It’s all real.” You whisper to yourself, however Carter caught it as well.

“Hey! Hey, don’t you go anywhere!” Carter yells through the phone, trying to bring you back from whatever trance you are stuck in. Whatever this was, he knew you weren’t in your five senses at the moment so he was justifiably worried and concerned. “I’m on my way! Do you hear me? Stay right there.” Carter calls out your name over and over again, but all just sounds like a blur.

“I have to go…” is all you say before you hang up and let your phone clatter on the ground.

“Hello? Hello?! Dammit!” Carter curses out loud. He dials your number a few times while driving, doing his best to get to you as fast as possible. His heart sinks when you don’t answer and he can feel his concealed rage welling up to the surface. He dials another number and hopes for their own sake that they pick up.

“Yes?”

“Listen here you pompous bastard. You better hope I don’t ever see your face if you want to keep it intact.” Carter snarls into the speaker, his eyes on the open road as he speeds like a maniac. “After what you did, you’re lucky I’m only letting you off with a warning. For years, I’ve had to watch from the sidelines how your oblivious ass trampled over the heart of the sweetest and most caring person I know. That ends tonight, do you hear me?”

“Loud and clear~” A giggle could be heard through the phone and Carter reels back, eyebrows furrowed with confusion and shock. “You don’t have to worry about Sweetheart anymore… I’ll be taking good care of them~”

Carter recovers from the initial shock and listens to the voice that sounds eerily similar to Friend’s. Knots form in Carter’s stomach when dots begin to connect in his mind. His blood runs cold and he grips the cellphone tightly in his hand, breathing heavily. “You’re not Friend…”

The line cuts immediately and Carter is left alone with the piercing silence inside his car. Not even the engine can be heard through the sounds of his thrumming heart beating in his ears. Carter immediately thinks of you as he frantically tries to get ahold of himself, doing his best to keep himself together long enough to get to you. He has to. Whoever answered the phone, was not Friend. And he couldn’t brush away the feeling that you were in danger.

On the other side, Other Friend grins sinisterly as he shatters the phone with his bare hands, the crushed fragments falling onto Friend’s battered and tear-stained face. Friend shut his eyes tightly, whimpering as the pieces of glass make small cuts on his face.

Other Friend can’t help but laugh at Friend’s helpless state— his hands and feet bound, duck tape covering his mouth and muffling his pathetic whimpers. Nothing gave him more joy than to see his rival trembling on the floor, bruised and bloody from the torture he had inflicted. Nothing except the thought of having you finally in his grasp… of finally making you his. Other Friend shudders in delight at the thought.

“It seems like Sweetheart has been talking me up to their other friends. How cute~” Other Friend giggles, the sound malicious as it vibrates in his throat. He places his boot on Friend’s leg and presses down on it, making Friend writhe and cry out in agony. “Yet, they didn’t tell you. How curious. It’s almost as if they don’t trust you anymore~”

At the mention of your term of endearment, Friend’s pained expression turns into one of rage as he struggles against his binds.

“Oooh, did that rile you up?” Other Friend mocks as he presses down harder on his already wounded leg, a strained whine coming from Friend and halting his squirming. Other Friend chuckles and leans down, his face hovering above Friend’s. “I’m guessing you won’t like what I’m planning to do with them next~”

Friend glares at Other Friend and curses them out, however, it comes out as muffled sounds of rage. Other Friend laughs sadistically and stands up straight. He begins to walk away from the pathetic worm writhing on this floor before looking back at him for one last time, grinning maniacally.

“Do me a favor and do keep it down? I have to go comfort Sweetheart after their date was a no show. And I’d hate for them to be more distraught than they already are~” And with that, Other Friend closes the door and locks it. He stands at the end of the hallway with a sadistic smile on his face. He whistles a tune as he walks away from the door.

Other Friend feels something fluffy brush along his lower leg. He looks down and stares at one of his cats with a serious expression.

“Did you find it?”

The cat gives him a sorrowful meow, bowing its head.

“I don’t need your apologies, I need that vermin found!” He hisses. “Don’t come back unless it is with its corpse, do you understand? I can’t have it ruining everything I’ve worked hard for.”

The cat gives him one last meow and bow before scampering away.

Other Friend sighs in frustration and pinches the bridge of his nose. He quickly picks up his head, button eyes brightening as he senses your presence crawling through the bridge that connects your world to his. His whole demeanor transforms into a lovesick expression.

“Do not fret, my love. No one’s going to ever hurt you again… I’ll make sure of it.” He whispers to himself with a hint of obsession as he makes his way to the bedroom.

Next chapter will include smut :)

Chapter 5

[ericsprincess]

yours for the taking PART 2

nc-17, smut, boyfriend!Sangyeon, body worship, pegging, anal fingering, lingerie (on Sangyeon), thigh riding

~~~

part 1 here

~~~

A/N: You know who is this for ;)

~~~

“Are you done? Can I go look?” you’re pretty much vibrating with excitement. You’re sitting on the bed, swinging your feet, all giddy. 

“I- I’m not sure? I can’t tell if it’s all in the correct places. there are too many…straps…” 

“If it’s wrong, I’ll fix it for you, just come out already,” you whine. You’re a bit tipsy from the champagne you had this evening and it makes you a bit more annoying than usual. But you can’t help it - today is your birthday and you already celebrated it with your coworkers at work, friends after work, and now, with all your friends on the way home, leftover pizza and cake in the fridge and your living room already cleaned up, it’s time for the main event. A little private celebration with your boyfriend, something you’ve been looking for the whole day. Especially since he promised to give you something particular as a gift. 

“Okay, but I swear I look stupid,” Sangyeon’s grumbly voice sounds back from the bathroom. 

“Let me be the judge of that,” you reply and crane your neck to see better. Sangyeon finally steps out from the bathroom, doing his best to not look totally awkward, but you don’t even care. 

He’s wearing a nice black set of lingerie made from a somewhat sheer lace, with straps and little bows, selected and ordered by you, specifically for your birthday. The top is a soft bralette, perfect around his muscular pecs, making them look almost like tits, the sheer material showing his nipples, and the bottom is a nice pair of panties with brazilian cut (“So that I can see your ass better!”). The panties are clearly working overtime to contain his cock and balls, and you can see both peek from the sides, where the fabric is just not enough to cover them. Sangyeon seems to be particularly awkward about that, because he keeps trying to pull the panties to cover him properly, to no avail. The straps are located in all the strategic places, cutting softly into his flesh, and it makes you want to snap them so badly, making Sangyeon flinch a little from the unexpected pain. 

“Baby, you look really good, trust me,” you’re almost drooling, and you beckon him to come closer. He visibly forces himself to relax a bit, obviously trying to shake off the awkwardness, telling himself it’s only the two of you and not a big deal. He slowly approaches the bed where you’re sitting, almost towering over you. You slowly look up, drinking up the sight of his body, and try to not visibly drool over his muscular legs, chiseled abs, wide shoulders, but especially your most favorite part of your boyfriend - his beautiful full chest. 

You run your hands over his thighs and ass, squeezing in appreciation. His body is hard from muscle and yet soft and warm, thanks to him not being too lean. You brush your hands over his abs, up to his pecs and grab one, squeezing and rubbing it as if it was an actual breast, feeling his nipple harden. So good. You pinch it a little over the bralette, and smirk at your boyfriend who is still trying to suppress any reaction he deems as embarrassing. You can’t have that, and the only thing that deters you from just going to town and torturing his tits until he squeals and whines, are the plans you already made for this evening. 

Speaking of. 

You move your hands down his back until you reach the hem of his panties. He needs to step a bit closer, and his cock is right in front of your face now, and you can see him being already hard, already leaking. You resist nuzzling your face into it and getting a deep breath of his scent, as you know this could very well end up with you wanting to suck him off, but today is not for that. 

Sneaking your hand into his panties, you’re not wasting time and slip your finger right between his butcheeks and- Oh. He’s already slick and wet. You try to push in and your two fingers enter him without any resistance. Sangyeon gasps, with closed eyes and grabs your shoulder.

“You already prepared, baby?” you look up. His face is red and he looks like he would like to avoid your eyes but he doesn’t. “There was no need to, I would have done it for you..” you smile, pushing your fingers further inside. Sangyeon whimpers, losing his composure a bit already.

“Yeah..I mean, it’s a gift for you. You shouldn’t have to work for it.” He speaks so quietly he’s almost whispering. 

“That’s so nice of you,” you lean forward to kiss along his abs, while slowly moving your fingers in and out of him. “Not only do I get your hole as a birthday gift, but you just serve it to me on a golden platter. Couldn’t even ask for more,” you laugh quietly, knowing very well you could have asked for more - and he would give it to you anyways.

You pull your fingers out of him. “Get on the bed, on your back,” you command and Sangyeon nods. He climbs onto the bed as you stand up from it, removing your clothes. He lies down and even though you’re turned away from him, you can feel his eyes on you. You take off all your clothes, wincing as you’re peeling your wet panties off you, throwing them somewhere in the general direction of the laundry basket. Leaning over, you open the drawer of your night stand. 

“Close your eyes, Sangyeon,” you say, and he obeys. 

“It’s okay, I can see you put it on, I will not get second thoughts by seeing it,” he snorts, but keeps his eyes closed. 

“It’s not that,” you fumble with the straps. “I just want you to feel it first.”

You finally manage to buckle yourself into the harness and you reach into the drawer again for a lube. The tube clicks when you open it and rubbing it over the strapped on dildo makes a squelchy sound - Sangyeon can’t see it, but he can definitely hear, and his breath is getting quicker. His cock is now straining in the panties, leaking precum through them. 

You get on the bed and Sangyeon instinctively spreads his legs to make room for you. You take a second to admire his beautiful muscular body and pull his legs further apart and up, to take a look at his cock and balls under the tiny panties. You contemplate whether to just pull them down slightly to get the access to his hole or if it would be better to take them off completely and you decide to get rid of them - it will be nice to see his cock flop around as you thrust into him. 

You bring the strap close to his hole and gently rub over it with the tip, just to get him used to it, so that he’s not surprised. His eyes are still closed and he’s grasping the bedsheets in anticipation.

“Open your eyes, baby,” you say quietly, pushing in. Sangyeons eyes flutter open and he just gasps, as you slowly push the dildo inside of him. 

“Good?” you check and he nods. He prepared thoroughly, as you felt a few minutes ago. He’s blushing and starting to sweat and it’s adorable, so you lean forward, propping yourself on your hands on each side of him and kiss him. “Can I move?” you whisper and he replies with moving his pelvis a bit to thrust against you. 

You start fucking him, first slowly, so that his hole gets used to the surely unnatural feeling, but when you can see Sangyeon is not in any discomfort anymore, you pick up the pace. 

You lean back from him to see better - his face is red and his eyes are closed and he’s gasping and whining in low voice, trying to not make much sound, even though he knows he can and that you like it - he’s still embarrased about it, about being fucked by his girlfriend, about liking it. 

His cock is almost fully hard and leaking and it’s indeed flopping around with the rhythm of your thrusts. You have half a mind to grab it and jerk him off, but you really don’t want him to finish too soon, before you enjoy him to the fullest. 

And the best part - his glorious tits, bouncing contained in the bralette. You could drool just from the sight. You take one hand off his thigh and grope his tit while fucking him and you really wish you were a bit taller so you could reach forwards and suck on it while you’re fucking him. 

But there is no need - he’s losing his mind anyways, he’s touching and grabbing you wherever he can to get you closer to him, deeper in him. 

But you don’t want him to come like that. 

“On all fours baby,” you order, and that wakes him up from his pleasure, disoriented at the first second. But he gets it right then and scrambles up to get up and turn, giving you barely any time to pull out. 

The sight in front of you - a muscular, tanned man in front of you, presenting you his fucked out hole, that’s all just for you and because of you - it almost makes you want to change plans, get rid of the strap and get yourself to come with rubbing your clit as you finger and stretch his hole further. But you’re not the one to ditch a carefully prepared plan so you prevail. 

You push the dildo back to him, listening to his moans, and after a few perfunctory thrusts you thrust as deep as you can into him, and just grind your hips, pressing onto his prostate the whole time, without any mercy, no moment where you would ease up on him. 

Sangyeon whines, almost sobs with pleasure, but you won’t make it easy on him. You lean forwards, your front to his back and without stopping your movement you grope his tits from behind with your both hands. He’s breathing so heavily and despite the pleasure, he still needs to keep himself up, now with the added weight of you. His arms are shaking, and he’s close to his limits. 

“Y/N, please…” he finally finds his words and you pinch his nipple in reply. 

“What do you want?” you ask, enjoying the contrast of his broken voice and yours almost unaffected one. You’re dying for some stimulation, but since you’re not really getting any, at least not in places that matter, you’re only slightly out of breath. And the deprivation is also making you meaner than usual. 

“Make me come, please…please I can’t take it anymore,” he begs, all shame and embarrassment thrown to the wind.

“Should I?” you ask deviously and grab his cock, squeezing it hard. 

“Yes, please, I beg you, please I need to come,” his hands give up and he plants himself into the pillow, moaning sounds muffled. 

“Okay baby,” you laugh. You’re a benevolent girlfriend anyways. “Cum for me,” you say while taking a proper hold of his cock, jerking him off quickly, but not forgetting to keep abusing his prostate, so that he doesn’t know whether to fuck forwards or backwards, and so he cums. Almost endless spurts of cum, landing on your bedsheets, while Sangyeon can’t catch a breath from all the sobbing and moaning. 

You gently slow down, both your hand and hips, taking time so he can calm down from his orgasm. You pull out of him and he just slumps half dead on the bed. 

He looks five seconds from either passing out of falling asleep, but you won’t give him a break. Not yet, not when you haven’t come yet - it’s your birthday still. 

“Turn on your back.”

Sangyeon obeys, even though it looks like it’s taking all of his remaining strength to do so. 

The sight is stunning. He’s all sweaty, with red splotches, blushing cheeks and even some tear stains on his face. You can’t wait anymore. 

“Can I ride your thigh?” you ask, but you’re already unclipping the harness and climbing on his leg, before he even hums his agreement with a lazy satisfied smile.

You’re so wet it’s actually dripping from you and you don’t waste a second. You rub your pussy on his thigh hard, riding it fast and quick to get yourself to come quickly, gasping from pleasure while Sangyeon runs his warm palms over your hips and ass. 

But you need just one more thing, for the evening to be perfect. 

You lean forward, pull on his bralette so one of his tits pops out and you lick it before sucking on it, groping the other one. 

Sangyeon gasps and squirms under you, no doubt the feeling being overstimulating for him now, but you ignore that and suck on his tit, biting the nipple, enjoying his hands grabbing you harder and harder, the more you torture his chest. 

“He’s so nice,” you think. “I could do anything and he would let me,” and with this thought you’re finally coming, letting his nipple go, riding your orgasm out while he helps you move. 

Collapsing on his body, you’re completely out of breath and as sweaty as Sangyeon.

“I think I’m dead.” you groan.

“YOU think you’re dead?” he asks disbelievingly. 

“Yeah..fucking is too exhaustive, I’m glad it’s your job,” you mumble into his chest. Actually. “Well, maybe except birthdays, then I can take over,” you smirk and look up to wink at him.

Sangyeon rolls his eyes. 

“Geez. I am really curious what gift you will demand next year,” he sighs contentedly. 

“Don’t worry baby,” you snort. “I have a list.”

[cannebady]

Imagine for me that crystals have been given and received and time has taught the lessons it's wont to do, and perhaps love has been spoken into the space between horns and feathers, given and received in equal turn.

Perhaps, after regular meet ups, and other, erm, meet ups, and coffee dates in Stolas's fucking excellent kitchen with his ridiculous selection of coffee flavors, Blitz gets it in his head that he can try the whole date thing again. Be a proper romantic about it and show Stolas that he can be more than he's given himself credit for in the past.

He can be the kind of guy who takes his hot fucking birdbrained boyfriend on a hot fucking date that will, most likely, end up in some other very enticing hot things.

Ozzie's is out for a wide variety of reasons, ranging from "the worst possible sense memory of getting his proverbial ass handed to him in every highschoolers nightmare scenario", to the fact that it's Fizz's big fuckin' boyfriend's place and he wants to indulge in the cheesy romantic shit he's never allowed himself (and he knows will put the most beautiful blush on those feathered cheeks just knows it, can't fuckin' wait for it) but would prefer not to have a play-by-play relayed to Fizz who will never let him live it down.

So he sucks it up and asks Moxxie (who is, predictably, completely insufferable about it), and gets a recommendation good enough that he lets his pompous dickhead behavior slide with only a bit of mocking. Before he knows it he's dressed in his best suit (jet black, tight as sin, and complemented by a pair of platform boots he definitely didn't five-finger-discount because his boyfriend is ten solid feet of sexy), holding a bouquet, and staring slack jawed at Stolas because holy fuckin shit he's lucky. His long legs are wrapped in a low slung pair of slacks perfectly tailored to make Blitz want to get lost between those feathered thighs. His shirt open so low he can see his chest feathers fluffed and fuck he wants to put his mouth there too. But the choker, a gift from Blitz, is the thing that does him in. Just his gift, sitting tight and beautiful and perfect against his pretty throat.

Fuck.

He looks fuckin gorgeous (he always does, but this kind of subtle confidence has Blitz's blood hot).

Alas, they power through (more like save it for later but who's counting) and with a quick walk through a portal, they're seated at a dimly lit club with an honest-to-Satan string quartet playing. They're holding hands across the table and Blitz's heart might just give out from how happy he is (and how happy Stolas looks, because he did that, he made him happy and he can do that and that's a fuck load to think about).

He tells Stolas as much because he deserves to hear it and he's working on the communication bullshit.

"Fuck you're pretty," he says as he moves closer. Stolas blushes, which hell yea, but then he hands him the fuckin flowers he bought (actually bought) and Blitz is momentarily concerned they won't make it to dinner based on the look he gets in return.

Blitz is floating on a cloud, so obviously something comes along to try to fuck it up.

Some hoity toity prude scoffs at them from a nearby table, loudly and often enough to garner their attention and Blitz is about to grab his flintlock and let it do the talking, when the fuckhead mumbles, "Can't believe he's out with an Imp," pointing to Stolas, and yeap, Blitz is definitely gonna kill this sonuvabitch.

"You mother fucker do you know what I do for a living?" he shouts back, reaching for his holster despite Stolas squeezing his hand in a silent plea to show restraint.

The sinner piece of shit scoffs at him again and says, "Who do you think you are, tangling with royalty? It's sick."

A million of Blitz's worst fears and thoughts of himself start to close in and he's quickly losing his grip on calm. His eyes are hot and the hand not holding Stolas's (he hasn't let go, they haven't let go, he can't let go, not again) is clenched so tight to avoid grabbing the pistol he thinks he's close to breaking it.

Suddenly, a soft taloned hand touches his face and turns his head away from that classist fuck, and his ichor eyes meet four stunning rubies and he's back in his body, back from the edge.

"He's not worth it darling," Stolas says sweetly, "Shall we take a walk? I'd like to show you off a bit," he winks one of his lower eyes and looks so fucking in love that it heals something that's been festering in Blitz since Ozzie's. Stolas isn'thiding behind a menu this time, not shrinking back in embarrassment. Across from him is just his favorite fucking stupid bird that he loves, loving him out loud back in front of some unimportant fuck he should forget about. In a second, he's back in the driver's seat.

He calmly turns back to the sinner, hops down from his chair and says, "Get fucked shithead, I'm his darling. That's who I am."

He walks over to Stolas and holds out his hand to help him up like a gentleman would, and he gets another honeyed blush and a fluff of feathers and it's worth it. All of it, for this moment here.

"Shall we, pretty bird?" he says, pitching his voice low to see that shiver run through Stolas. Oh, his bird is going to get it good tonight.

"Yes, my love," Stolas replies, a little breathless, placing a taloned hand in his.

They walk out together, hand-in-hand and heart-in-heart, until Stolas pulls him in for a heated kiss outside the restaurant in front of all and sundry, and fuck it feels like coming home and it feels so good to be wanted in the light. The kiss turns soft and deep, tongues syrupy sweet against one another, and hands wandering as much as possible in polite company.

"I love you, you know," he says into the humid space between them, just to keep that blush where it belongs, and to hear the cute little bird noise Stolas always makes when Blitz catches him off guard with declarations of love. And also because it's his most honest truth.

"Oh darling," Stolas sighs, "I love you too, more than you know."