#:((( why am I so cold I can't feel my toes :(

[senseichaos]

"PATHETIC"

SUMMARY: Don't go into Alastor's studio if he's on air. It was that simple. But sometimes you like to be bad. (In which Alastor broadcasts your moans live as a punishment)

GENRE: PWP, Smut, small amount of angst, a lil fluff

WARNINGS: Psychopathic Alastor, sadism, masochism, bratty reader, unprotected sex (don't!), collar, handcuffs, chains, degration, exhibitionism, implied aftercare, humiliation, finger sucking, dub-con/non-con depending on how you see it, orgasm denial, leash, degration, praise, let me know if there are any more!

PART 2 (aftercare)

NOT PROOF READ (YET)

____

Don't go into Alastor's studio if he's on air, it was that simple.

But you do it anyway. Out of pure bratty desires you defy Alastor because.. why not? What's the worst that could happen? Actually.. there is a lot of 'worst' that could in fact happen but I mean, he's not all bad.. is he?

With a small grin on your face you lay your hand against the door swiftly, knocking loudly to make sure you are alerting Alastor of a visitor. The anxiety you feel when you do this is far too real, from the clammy fingers to the feeling that this whole idea is a horrible mistake. You almost feel as if you could fall to the floor beneath you.

Yet it's so exhilarating.

"I'm afraid I'm busy!" You hear Alastor holler from beyond the door, his slightly fake kind tone obvious. He hates it when people interrupt his work. You almost giggle, feeling an odd nervous giddiness going through yourself at the prospect of opening this door.

With a sharp intake of breath, you swing open the door and close it softly behind yourself. Though behind him you can see Alastor pinch the space between his eyebrows with an annoyed smile.

He turns his head to look over at you, giving you an annoyed smile that makes you bite your lower lip.

"What is it you need, dear?" Alastor asks, adjusting one of the nobs on the recording equipment in front of him. "I am very sure I said I was busy," He sighs, looking over at you again with even more annoyance visible on his face.

"I just wanted to hangout,"

Alastor stands, horns growing with his annoyance as he takes a warning step towards you. You take a meek step back and gulp down a nervous glob of saliva.

"So you come into my studio, interrupting my broadcast-" he turns shifts into his full demon form as he moves towards you, until his face is completely in front of your face. An angry smile on his features. "All because you wanted to hang out?" He pulls you closer by a metal collar of his energy, his nose against your own as his hand clutch tightly onto the chain.

"What a bad pet you are.." He says darkly, pulling you harshly so you choke and fall to the ground on your hands and knees. For a couple moments he just pulls you with the leash, walking you towards the chair until he sits on it. He swivels it around to look at you, your own large and nervous ones looking into his.

He pushes your head up to look straight at him by the toe of his shoe, the coldness making your skin burn. You can't help but lean even closer towards him, so the toe of his show just barely digs into the skin there.

"Fawn, you were just here for my attention, weren't you?"

You consider lying to him, making yourself out to be more of a brat and possibly get a worse outcome than you're already gonna get.. but from the position you're in it's probably a bad idea. So with a sharp gulp and a blush across your cheeks you nod, biting your lower lip. Alastor grins, leaning down and taking his foot from your chin.

His gaze is rather soft, almost adoring as he tugs you closer by your chain leash. Slowly and intimately he pushes his thumb into your mouth, pointing finger making you look into his lidded eyes. With a burst of passion you suck onto his thumb, swirling your tongue against the red claw as he watches with amused eyes.

"My lovely fawn, perhaps you just need to be reminded who owns you," He purrs, pulling his thumb from your mouth (much to your dismay). With a sharp motion Alastor tangles his fingers into your hair, manhandling you face first into his desk so your ass faces him. You cry out at this movement, the roughness of his movements contrasting wildly to the care he gave you just moments before.

"Lovely. I'm afraid this punishment is not going to be pleasant, but you must learn from your mistakes," Alastor sighs, and with a swift motion of his hands bounding your wrists with cuffs of his magic. He keeps them bound onto the table so you are unable to move, causing a pain to go through your wrists when you flinch at Alastor's movements. Roughly, he pulls down your skirt and discards it across the room, leaving you bare besides from your thin pink panties.

"What a pretty color, they must be a favorite pair of yours.." you blush, trying to tilt your head to see him behind you; only for the collar to keep you from doing so. You feel his claws drag up the sides of your thighs until they meet the fabric of your panties, clawing rather dangerously at it.

"Yeah, i-i wore them for you.." You whimper with a stutter, wiggling your but at him to appear enticing. He chuckles, hooking his pointer fingers into your panties at each side.

"How lovely,"

With a harsh pull, he rips either side of your panties in half. You gasp at this, trying to stand up only for the cuffs around your hands and the collar around your neck to tighten. This causes you to bruise and cry out in pain.

"Alastor! I liked that pair.." You complain, kicking your legs in a sort of tantrum that Alastor tuts. With a sudden thrash Alastor aggressively pulls at your chain leash, making your head move up with a strain that is horribly painful.

"Bad fawns don't get treated with propriety, my dear," Alastor explains, twisting his hand so the chain slowly wraps around his hand. You can see his shadow loom closer and closer over your own figure.

"And bad fawns especially don't get any foreplay.."

What? No foreplay? He can't be serious..

Let's just say.. Alastor is rather large in the nether regions. And he knows this. Every single time you've ever fornicated he'd always done foreplay- just to open you up enough that you wouldn't be in horrid paid every time he stuck his cock in you. You can already feel the pain inside of you and he hasn't even pushed his tip to you.

"Alastor, no- I can't.."

"Don't forget my fawn.." He hooks his fingers into your hair again, forcing you to tilt your head as he whispers into your ear. His horns are larger than earlier, and his entire build in general is a lot more.. demonic.

"You wanted this.."

You don't want this anymore.

Tantalizing slow, Alastor drags his claws up your spine, taking in every shiver and whimper that you give him in turn. How dominating he feels, it's like nothing else to him he can tear as many people's souls to shreds but nothing will be the same as fucking you to pliancy. He can do horrid things to you, and you still come back for more.

He loves that in you, in his own way.

You feel his tip just barely twitch against your entrance, one hand holding your chain and his staff whilst the other presses harshly against your thigh. Wait. Why is he holding his staff.. that doesn't make any sense unless-

Fuck. He can't be serious, can he?

"Salutations dear listeners, ever so sorry for my break. But I have a treat just for you!" He says, his voice strong with the confidence of a person who has done this millions of times before. Shivering you let out a small whimper, he's really going to do this, isn't he? He's going to fuck you on air. You want to disappear. This is humiliating! This is.. humiliating. He can't be serious! You though he was better than this..

Shows you to think more of the radio demon.

In a swift movement you scream out, Alastor's entire length being shoved into you with a single thrust. You see stars of red, the area around you glowing a green that makes your head just slightly throb in pain. With another harsh thrust Alastor pulls in your leash, forcing you to look out the window.

He leans down and growls condescendingly.

"Watch the entirety of the pride ring as they hear me break you," he says and you cry out. He is. He is breaking you from the inside out, you can feel every thrust of his cock through your entire body with a painful wave. You can hardly see anymore. Everything is blurred with a wall of tears that fall down your cheeks.

"Fuck!" You cry in a distressful pleasure. You hate that this feels good. Why do you want him to break you? Why do you want him to fuck you from the inside out until all you can do is sit there and listen to him speak. You hate that you love this.

"That's it, little fawn. Let me break your whorish body.." He laughs, the hold on your chain leash making you lose a very small amount of air. You try to clutch at something, anything to ground you, but all you can feel is the warm chains bounding you to the desk beneath you, the chains bounding you to this terrible pleasure.

You can't describe it. Every thrust of his cock makes you moan, in an ashamed yet purely entangled tone. You can hear the passion in your voice as Alastor digs his claws so hard into you you bleed. Yet you can definitely hear the pain in your voice when the tip of his cock just barely hits your cervix.

"Such a pathetic thing, letting me take you like this.. you didn't even put up a fight,"

You see red, a weird loving anger.

"I fucking HATE you.."

Alastor laughs, and you can practically smell that shit-eating grin on his face.

"No," he thrusts "You," he thrusts "Dont~" he thrusts, punctuating his words and his teasing tone. You claw at the chains, wishing to rip their bounds so you can spit in his stupid beautiful face. Fuck. You can't stop this pleasure.

With every thrust comes another build of an orgasm inside of you, every thrust making that knot pull tighter and tighter. He isn't even doing anything to pleasure you, either- you just love this in a way you can't describe.

"Don't orgasm without my permission, dear," Alastor cackles, biting his lower lip "Or else..!" He teases, giving you a particularly harsh thrust as to solidify his words. You nod softly with a whimper, your neck aching from the way he's handling your leash.

You clench particularly hard, feeling that orgasm begging to be released.

"Alastor! Please let me cum.." You whimper, biting your lower lip as it trembles very slightly. He hums for a moment, as if to mock your display of obedience before clicking his tongue and leaning down.

"Beg for it," he says simply, thrusting even quicker making the urgency inside of you real. Crying, you babble for a moment, the pleasure inside of you becoming to much.

"Fuck! Please let me cum, I'll do anything, I'll listen to everything you say, please! Please..." You don't think you've felt more desperate your whole entire time in hell, which is even more pathetic, really. The most desperate you've felt isn't for your life, money, or soul. It's to come on the cock of a psychopathic sadist.

"Lovely. Come for me, my dear,"

You let go with an obnoxious wail, walls clenching around Alastor so tightly you could have sworn he grunted. It's like your whole body let go, your legs give out, your shoulders relax, and your eyes roll back.

"Good fawn, how good,"

With one last thrust, Alastor buries his cock deeply inside of you, emptying his seed to the point where your stomach begins to bloat. One thing you've learnt about Alastor, when he cums, he cums a lot.

"Now then," Alastor declares after a short moment, pulling his cock from your hole and stuffing it back into his pants. "Let's get you cleaned up!" Alastor says brightly, clicking his fingers so the bounds on your neck and hands release. Though this only makes your centre of gravity shift in such a way you almost fall to the ground, if it weren't for Alastor catching you and holding you bridal style. Holding you. This is a rare occurrence indeed.

"Thank you dear listeners and I'll see you next time! Perhaps you may even get another treat, Ha ha!"

Alastor turns back to you, looking at you deep in the eyes as his sclera turn a deep black.

"Will they, my dear..?"

You gulp, shrinking in his arms.

"No, Alastor,"

He turns back to normal, giving you an adoring look as he twirls on his foot, taking you from the room.

"Lovely, now let's get a bath running!"

#proship #senseichaos #antishippers dni #senseichaosdrabbles #proship fanfiction #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x reader smut #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader fluff #alastor oneshot #alastor #alastor x reader angst

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

🎃 Good enough to Eat

Licking CW: bound reader, abduction, body worship (receiving), teasing, drugging, dub-con, body image issues

The reflection in the mirror glared at their body, turning in circles to fully appreciate how bad they looked in this outfit. It was such a stereotypical thing to do that (Reader) felt ashamed, but that didn't stop them, not when their skin was squishing out over the top of their jeans. Their best friend was waiting in the living room for them to hurry up, but every shirt they put on laid weird on their body, even their favorite band tee. It was just going to be one of those days.

(Reader) left the bathroom mopey, struggling to look happy. Their attempt failed completely when Vince pulled out his phone to take a picture of them.

"Not today V."

"What? Why?! We never get to hang out anymore, and I want some pictures of us." The man whined, jokingly pouting to hide his real disappointment.

"I'm just..." (Reader) tugged on their shirt subconsciously, "not feeling it."

Vince's eyes narrowed, his joking demeanor fading into an empty glare (Reader) had never seen before, worrying them. "I can't do this. I wanted to do this the right way, but you're pissing me off."

Before (Reader) could question their friend he shoved his fingers into their mouth, pressing a bitter tasting pill into their throat and forcing it down. They tried to jump back, but Vince held (Reader's) head, clasping their mouth shut until they swallowed and holding them still until it kicked in. First their muscles grew heavy, then (Reader) couldn't hold their eyes open, collapsing into Vince's arms.

(Reader) woke up hours later, completely naked and hands chained to the ceiling above them, arms twisted in an angle where they couldn't pull up and dangling just high enough for their toes to touch the floor. In the dark of the cellar, Vince stood in front of (Reader) with his arms crossed, a disappointed look on his handsome face.

"Vince? Where am I...?"

"Mmm.. my house." Vince was uncharacteristically upset, his voice cold and eyes weary with frustration.

"Why-?"

"You know, I had this whole date planned out for us. I was finally going to confess to you." He looked down, rubbing his hands together. "But you're so damn insecure, I know if I told you today that I've been in love with you for the past seven years you wouldn't have believed me."

A strange ache stabbed into (Reader's) heart; a conflicting mixture of his congestion causing it to skip a beat and pain from their anxiety. He was right, they didn't deserve his love. Ignoring the fact that he had just kidnapped them, Vince was the most attractive man (Reader) had ever seen off the big screen.

"Vince, I-"

"So, before I officially confess to you, I need you feeling better about yourself, so you accept me." Vince walked over, a sick smile creeping over his features. "You are so fucking beautiful. I've never met anyone as sexy as you."

"Vince, I'm sorry... If you let me go we can pretend like this never happened.."

He cocked his head. "Why would I want to do that? I finally have you all to myself, and you want me to pretend like I've never had the privilege to see you like this?"

(Reader) sniffled, ashamed, both by how exposed they were and by his sweet talking. "Please stop-"

"You don't believe me.. That really hurts my feelings, (Reader). It was bad enough hearing you criticize the person I love all the goddamn time, but even now you're looking at me like I'm a liar." He pressed his nose against their cheek, inhaling their scent. "Which is so unfair, when you look good enough to eat."

His sharp canines bit into (Reader's) neck as his rough hands caressed their body, rubbing their chest and the spot between their shoulder blades. (Reader) cried out, both in surprise and from pain, before squirming in discomfort as he ran his tongue over his teeth marks.

Vince seemed to enjoy the reaction he got from licking (Reader's) neck, because he moved down, chasing the shivers he was sending down their body. His calloused palms gripped (Reader's) flesh, digging his fingers into their soft body selfishly. His hot muscle left wet trails down (Reader's) goosebumps, greedily tasting their body.

He left hickies from his sucking and biting, bruising their nipples from enthusiasm. Every time he latched on it was hard enough to draw blood, but was quick to soothe the stinging with kisses, cleaning the red droplets with his tongue. Vince ignored (Reader's) pleas and whines, enraptured by the taste he had dreamt of for so long.

"You are so beautiful.." He groaned dreamily, pawing at himself through his pants as he planted butterfly kisses down to (Reader's) hip, turned on by their shudders under his feather soft touches. Sliding into his knees, Vince gazed up at (Reader) with lust. "Please say that you believe me now."

"Vince.." (Reader) was torn between their embarrassment and how good they felt.

His lips attached to their sensitive skin right next to their groin, tickling them. The area was so sensitive to the touch that they arched their spine to get their pelvis away from the teasing kisses, but lost their footing, rocking back into Vince's face.

The man continued licking and kissing everywhere but (Reader's) genitalia, encouraged by their responsiveness. He wouldn't gift them release, not until they felt have much he craved their body.

"Do you believe me now?" His heavy panting against their skin was almost as unbearable as his spider light brushing.

Desperate to be let down, (Reader) whined "Yes! I believe you.."

"Does that mean you'll let me be your man?" Another kiss, closer towards their painful arousal. (Reader's) thighs quivered and butterflies erupted in their belly.

"Yes!"

"Because you know that I love you?" The fluid leaking down (Reader's) leg was licked off hungrily.

"God, yes!"

"And you love me too?"

"Yes! I love you, I love you too, Vince!"

As soon as he got his confirmation, (Reader's) legs were draped over his shoulders.

(Reader's) toes curled as Vince's tongue swirled around their most delicate parts, drinking in their essence. His mouth devoured (Reader), crushing his face with their pelvis, pulling them harder into his jaw, hands on their buttocks pushing them in.

"Vince, I'm gonna cum.." (Reader) pathetically whimpered, feeling his tongue fuck them faster.

A wave a shame followed their climax, insecure suddenly over their orgasm. But that brief thought immediately dissipated as Vince didn't stop, taking all of their juices and continuing his assault on their sensitive nerves, pushing them past the point of pleasure. Tears poured from (Reader's) eyes as they tried to wiggle out of his iron grip.

But Vince continued until he came, pulling away to breathe as he moaned out, staining his jeans. His face returned to the kind looking Vince (Reader) knew and adored, smiling up at (Reader) sweetly as though he hadn't just abducted and assaulted (Reader).

"Thank you for accepting my feelings, gorgeous."

#kinktober #cw abduction #cw dubcon #cw drugging #cw body image #teasing #kissing #yandere x reader #x reader #oc x reader

[theysaidhush]

Please, you can't talk about needy virgin trope and not talk about bang chan who's personality is built for being the first ever bf to teach you all about the ins and outs of the bedroom.

He'd be so soft and gentle too.

Sweet and soft Chan being your first (and hopefully your last)

I am insanely satisfied with what I wrote thank you soooo much. This is the ask I never knew I needed (even tho it has been in my inbox for months bruh)

This might appears an idealised view of a first time but I assure you that it isn’t. Your first time should be all about you (when you have an experienced partner) and your parter should always take care of your needs, worrying about what you want to do and what you don’t want to do. I hope that this short blurb depicts a realistic first time with your s/o (when you are in a healthy relationship ig?)

I guess that you can already tell but all my story are written with an established relationship in mind. I don’t like writing it with another setting regarding the fact that I am against one night fling or sexual intercourse with someone who isn’t your soulmate/(will be a) long time boyfriend or such thing. Don’t come at me for that, this is MY opinion and I felt like writing it.

Bang Chan whose life purpose is to teach you things and love you properly. I don’t know if it even makes sense but this man would be down bad for you. He would love being your first and he’ll make sure to be your last.

And you’re so right, he would be so gentle about it! He would hold you carefully, as if you’re made of glass, would press gentle kisses on your body, worshipping every bit of you. He would make sure you’re comfortable, feeling like doing it, in your shared bed, surrounded by fluffy pillows and soft blankets.

He would cradle your face in his hands, stroke your cheek with his thumb as he’s slowly humping you, just to prep you and get you all horny and excited for him. Chan would whisper sweet words in your ears, telling you that he’ll be there, that he won’t leave and that he will help throughout all of this.

He would make sure to not do anything you don’t want him to do. You don’t want him to eat you out? Fine by him, he’ll put his tongue in your mouth instead. You want his fingers inside? You have barely said a word his fingers are already stroking your inner lips, grazing your tight walls and hitting that spot again and again.

If you feel intimidated by his length he’ll assure you that it’ll fit, trying to hold back a giggle at your flushed face. He’ll put your hand on it, as if he’s helping you taming a wild beast. Slow and gentle. You don’t even know what’s warm and hot anymore, what’s heavy or what isn’t. Is it is touch on you, the grip he has on your hand, or his cock between your fingers?

Then, when you both think you’re ready, he’ll slide in. Slowly, carefully, as if he’s dipping his toes in cold water. He would try really hard not to close his eyes at the feeling because he wants to see your face. He wants to monitor your emotions, wants to make sure he’s not hurting you.

If your first time is painful, he will put his warm hand on your lower belly, trying to ease your pain with slow movements and light kisses on your cheeks.

He won’t freak out when he sees blood leaking down his dick, alongside your slick. He reassures you, tells you that it’s a normal reaction of your body. He would explain why and how with a steady and soft voice so you don’t freak out - he might have googled "why does women bleed during their first time?" just so he could be prepared.

He’s soft, gentle, just like the way he rock his hips back and forth in your core. He’ll do it slowly, he’ll make love to you, show you that you deserve the world and much more, that you deserve every bit of his affection. He might have cry a little when you came undone around him. Can you blame him tho? You gave him your first, and that mere thought makes him cum and fill you up to the brim.

#stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #stray kids smut #bang chan hard thoughts #bang chan hard hours #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader

[cilliansdove]

BABY IM SORRY || tommy shelby imagine

pairings: tommy shelby x fem!reader

warnings: postnatal depression/ angst/ suicidal thoughts/ mentions of self harm

summary: y/n's struggling with postnatal depression.

a/n: I am not responsible for the writing you consume. If anything in my writing makes you feel uncomfortable, I apologise, however I can't do much about it. This is my writing and I take full credit for it so please do not copy x paste/rewrite the writing. You may repost/like/comment etc. Enjoy reading!!

There was a feeling of emptiness in my gut that'd been lingering for a while now. It made me feel weak, spoke sorrows to me- told me I wasn't doing nor giving enough; that I was worthless. It got to me all the time sometimes. And it wasn't something I could run away from, or something I could escape. It was glued to me, embedded itself in my skin and made me feel dirty.

I'd spend hours in the bathtub, scrubbing at my skin till it bled and the water made me shiver from the coldness of it.

Tommy never knew about it, I made sure of it. However, it seemed pretty obvious to me, so perhaps he didn't have the time to care anymore. Either that, or I really was useless. To both Tommy and the baby.

No amount of words could portray the numbness I felt around the mini me. As a mother, I'm meant to be able to nurture the little human, yet as of now, I haven't even looked at them for a week.

Frances always gives me this 'look' of sympathy when she sees me; it makes me feel sick. But then again, I always seem to be feeling sick nowadays.

And Mrs Shelby. A name I was no longer living up to. I was destroying the title completely. I stopped organising charity events, stopped going out. I was a rotting corpse, in a rotting home.

Worst of all, Tommy had finally caught on. That didn't hurt, no. It was the look in his eye that made me heart clench- the way his body slumped after seeing how drained I was.

I felt tears begin to brim in my empty eyes, "I'm sorry..." I kept my eyes glued to the floor as I couldn't bare to look him in the eyes.

Tommy cupped my chin and tilted it upwards so I'd look at him. He tilted his head to the side, observing me from head to toe, like I was damaged. As if it wasn't only my head rotting anymore, it was my body too.

His fingertips traced my greying cheekbone and he leant his face down to brush his nose against mine.

"No, Y/n. This is my fault," A tear streamed down his face and I frowned at him, "Baby I'm sorry...I should've been here for you and I haven't," Tommy pressed his forehead against mine.

I hesitantly closed my eyes and nodded my head, "It's okay-"

He cut me off, "No it's not. Don't make excuses for my poor behaviour," He frowned softly and cupped my jaw , "Y/n what's wrong, love?"

I looked at him emptily, baffled by his question. I didn't have an answer to it. But I swallowed down my fear and answered meekly, "I'm not sure, Tommy..."

He looked behind me, gawking at the mess of our bedroom.

"Where's Charlie? Why aren't you with him?"

His words made me choke up, causing tears to freely spill from my eyes. With the little strength I had, I squeezed the fabric of his shirt, and he got the hint.

Tommy put my head on his chest and stroked through the knots in my hair.

"He doesn't need me, Tommy. I'm not good enough to him. I can't feed him properly, I can't settle him. For fuck sakes, I can't even hold him! I'm a disgrace of a mother and a wife. A no good, stupid-"

He shut me off with a gentle kiss to my lips. They moved soothingly against mine, giving me a small sense of comfort.

Tommy pulled away gently, and cupped my face, looking me dead in the eye with a sympathetic look. The same one Frances always gave me.

"You listen to me now, ay?"

I weakly nodded.

"You a no disgrace, Y/n, I can promise you that, my love. And it hurts me that you think you aren't good enough, because god forbid, Y/n, if I didn't have you, there would be no 'Tommy Shelby'. I'd be a nobody," he rests his forehead against mine, "but you are hurting yourself, love. And I am in no way blaming you for that, but it isn't necessary. I love you, yeah? That little boy in his bed loves you too. He thinks the world of you, Y/n. So please, please, love. Come back to me."

I let out a small sob and nodded. But the longer I listened to him, the more the guilt opened its arms to me.

I fell into Tommy, hugging him tightly as I buried my face into his shoulder.

He cooed to me, "It's okay, love. Shh...shh...it's alright. I'm not angry at you, I'm just...scared."

Slowly, I untucked my face from his shoulder, and looked at the tear stains on his shirt. I sniffled and looked up at him. Tommy wiped away my tears with his thumbs.

"I never meant to scare you, Tom."

"I know, love. I know."

____________________________________________

A week later he had taken me to the doctors. They had diagnosed me with postnatal depression. It was the cause to my mood changes, especially towards the baby.

There was no clear fixture other than to 'talk things out'. So I did.

Tommy made me cuddle up to him in bed, and rest my head on his chest so he could stroke my hair.

"Just talk when you can, sweetheart. Or if you're not ready, that's okay too, yeah?"

I let out a deep sigh and snuggled closer to him. Both my fists were clenched, but after a couple minutes, I relaxed.

"Promise you won't be angry?" I looked at him nervously.

Tommy rolled his head back, looking up at the ceiling, "We've spoken about this, Y/n/n. I'm not gonna be angry, ay? I just want to help you, alright?"

"Alright."

I dwelled on whether to speak or be silent.

The urge to tell him how I felt was eating away at me. It was now or never.

"Tommy..." I sat up in the bed, and lay the same way he did. On my back, with an arm under my head on the pillow- staring up at the ceiling.

"Tommy I hurt myself..." My eyes didn't blink for what felt like hours. After saying it, it made what I had done, seem real.

He didn't speak either, which rattled my nerves. Was he angry? Disappointed? Did he not love me anymore? Did he-

"Show me."

I dashed up, and stared at him, "Are you absurd? No!"

He shot out of bed and pinned me to him by my shoulders, making me shriek.

"For god sakes, woman! I need to see it, Y/n!"

He towered over me, his piercing blue eyes shooting at me. I squirmed in his tight grip, trying to get out of it.

"Stop it!" I sobbed, giving up, "S-Stop it."

My body slumped in his grip, and I let my knees buckle and take me to the floor.

Tommy pulled me back up and whispered gently to me ,"Please, love...I need to see. If you don't show me, Y/n, I'll have to go rooting myself."

A deep sob wrecked through me and I gripped his shirt tightly. He wasn't giving me a choice. He was being unfair. Tommy wouldn't want to see the damage I'd caused to myself. It was disgusting.

Hesitantly, I let the straps of my dress slip down my shoulders, allowing it to pool to my feet. I watched as Tommy's eyes were met with the discolouration on my thighs. I watched as his eyebrows flipped upwards. I watched as he didn't blink. I watched him shake his head.

Out of the blue, he pulled me to him in a tight embrace whilst he let out heavy sobs. Ones that made my heart ache.

Without thinking about it, I let my hands run through his hair in attempt to soothe him. But his body was getting heavy on me so i sat us on the bed.

He gazed at me with his puffy eyes, "Why, Y/n? Why, love?"

I shrugged with a blank look on my face. I wasn't sure how to react to the situation.

"I don't know...I thought it was the only way to cope," I looked at the ceiling to stop myself from crying, "It took away the emptiness I felt. I couldn't talk to you...because I didn't want to burden you further with my baggage."

"Oi! I vowed to you that I would look after you through thick and thin, and through sickness and health," he planted a kiss on my temple, "You have never been a burden to me, my love. And you never will be. Because I love you."

I frowned at him, a confused look in my eye, "I don't understand."

"You don't need to. All you need to know, is that I love you no matter the issue, okay?"

____________________________________________

- part 2??🤔🤔

#peaky blinders #thomas shelby #cillian x fem!reader #angsty #postpartum #comfort #peaky blinder imagine #im cryin #fem reader #tommy shelby #depressing shit #self h@rm #slef harm #tommy shelby x fem!reader #the peaky blinders #angst x reader #tumblr fyp

[teenandbeyond]

Yautja x Fem.Reader

Edit: I see someone wants a part two, if ya'll get this to 200 notes by next Saturday, I'll totally do it. I'll give ya a little extra if you make it to any number higher than that, even by one. *genuinely intrigued about how this'll go* Edit 2: Here it is babes, Part 2, Part 3

I hear people are looking for this so, here. Also, this is my shitty attempt at a dark fic, because I wanna try one--even though it's faaaar from my regular style, I'm far from a darkfic writer, but I like challenges-- and it seems many people have been craving a dark fic of Yautja more than not, so I'll hopefully help y'all out (I wrote this when I was sleepy so idk how it was). *puts all smutty writing experience into this*

Want more from me? Ask or check out my Masterlist!

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Breed (Predator)

Warning(s): Probably the smuttiest smut I've ever smutted, noncon details, breeding, rough, unprotected, a creamy little pie, size difference, triggers (so do not read if they apply to you), this turned long asf.

You survive with a Predator who killed all of your friends...but it seems the Yautja have taken an interest in you and don't plan to let you leave...

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You groan out, tossing your head to the side.

What makes you realize you aren't in your bed is a few things.

There's an echo.

It feels like you're laying on a hard table.

Your wrists are bound to your chest.

Your ankles are weighed down by something heavy, which after moving around your toes you realize are cuffs connected by a chain, where most of the weight came from.

And most importantly, you can't see, you noticed as your lashes fluttered against a cloth.

"Where am I?"

"Above earth," an amused, disembodied voice responds.

A familiar voice, one of your friends.

"Ester...? I thought you died..."

"What you didn't see didn't happen."

"Hey, can you take this stuff off me?" you grunted as moved to shift your arms to no avail.

"Why would I do that? I put you there."

Your brows furrowed, "What?"

"You see. That whole thing was a setup, I was working with them this whole time."

"But why? They killed your friends! Our friends!"

She chuckled, "Oh, that's what you believed. I was just doing my job to survive. To find them the perfect specimen."

You grunted as you struggled and failed to loosen your restraints.

"You see, they've been for years, creating more advanced creatures to hunt. They've already tried to with another species, Xenomorphs--the ones that spit acid. But they wondered if they could try such a thing with humans..."

Your blood ran cold, "Please don't tell me..."

"They realized they could, they hunted for the perfect human, one who possessed certain genes that had a high percentage of handling a Yautja seed. And when one wanted to kill me after hunting all my allies a few years ago, I offered to do anything. Now I've found you."

"So-ugh--then what? They're just gonna let you go?"

"Well, my part of the deal is finished. There's no other use for me."

"Exactly, idiot," you muttered.

Suddenly you heard a loud thumping sound.

"Ah, here they come."

You moan in despair as you try to move, the cold metal biting against your ankles, "This is hopeless."

"Here's the human you left with, she's perfect, she's worthy of you due to her survival."

Yes, you remember.

Suddenly you found yourself helpless, the two...Xenomorphs you supposed, had terrorized your college class during your international trip to the Daintree Rainforest.

The other creature--the...Yautja had killed a few security guards and three of your friends. As you grew to understand this Predator, you realized it only killed something that seemed to be a challenge, everyone that was killed by it had a weapon at some point.

But you, you're a tough one. You survived, and the Yautja gave you weapons to aid it, you managed to kill a Xenomorph on your own.

You had enough education about tribal tradition to know when it smeared some of its excruciatingly burning blood on you, it found you worthy in a sense.

Or he, since as far as you know most creatures bred with the opposite sex.

"I can leave now, right? If you want I can tell you where I can be dropped off," Ester happily spoke up.

You heard a familiar sound slice through the air, his weapon.

"W-wait...what are you doing? I did what you--what you asked...No! No! No-!"

You heard a body thump and a strong smell of blood fill the air, you knew the smell with little effort after the last two days.

There was some shuffling, you guessed she was being dragged away to be dumped by another one of them.

Then the thumping footsteps started up again, getting closer. Until he stood next to your... examination table.

You tried to shift away, not being able to do much but hold yourself up and not fall halfway off the edge. Only for your arms to get tugged and move you back to the more comfortable position.

"Please...I can't--I can't provide you with anything."

You jumped as you felt a nail trail down your jaw before a scaly hand--that was still surprisingly smoother than you expected--gripped your chin, twisting your head left and right.

You couldn't help the shiver that ran down your spine.

A thumb brushed against the acid mark he gave you on your cheek.

The only sound you heard was a sharp grunt, in disapproval or satisfaction, you didn't know.

His thumb dragged across your lips before his hand went lower...

You stiffened when the wandering hand paused, before yelping at the sound of a blade moving through the air.

He slowly sliced through your long-sleeved shirt and bra, your breath hitched as you felt the cold metal graze your skin. If there was any more pressure, he would've sliced you open.

You let out a breathless sigh as the restricting bra released you. You hated bras sometimes.

You could feel him move and tried to shift away, only for him to catch you by your neck and slide you back into the position you were in.

With a quivering lip, you felt curious hands explore your breasts.

"Please, just let me go..."

You bit your lip at an experimental squeeze.

You couldn't seriously be reacting to this? Could you?

But when you felt something brush against your sensitive bud...

Your breathing skipped.

Another pause, before it was tested again.

Your hands tightened into fists.

Then without warning, he relentlessly rolled the hardened bud between his fingers.

With a whine, you tried to move away, only for his grip on your neck to tighten.

You tried to keep as much self-control as you could, but that changed a few minutes later when his hand moved, your stomach jumping as it came and went and stiffening as the hand stopped at the band of your pants.

"Please...don't..." you desperately pleaded.

There are a few seconds of dragging his thumb back and forth against your hip, as if deciding, but ultimately tearing it all off in one motion.

You squealed at suddenly being exposed, trying to clench your thighs together.

He denied you of this, effortlessly opening your thighs to expose for him to fully see.

You decided to be defiant as you felt him shift onto the table.

"This is--isn't going to work. Humans and Aliens aren't going to be able to--do this," you tried to move your legs, the heavy chain helping you none, "I'm not even remotely aroused--"

He interrupted you as you felt him lean closer to your wetness, feeling his breath hit the sensitive area.

The clicking sound he made almost sounded amused, before making you gasp as he rubbed a curious finger against you.

"Mm--stop--you--you can't--!"

Shuddering as a finger slid into you, you attempted to wriggle out of his hold. Only for his grip to tighten a little more, at this point, he was definitely warning you.

You felt embarrassed by the light squelching sound you heard. At least you didn't have to see.

Then two more were added.

"I can't--that's too much!" you cried out.

But when his wrist brushed against your cilt, your body completely surrendered.

He realized how greatly that affected you and decided to continue learning.

With a shaky breath, you desperately tried to hold back. Tried to deny your body's pleasure with your mind.

You clenched your thighs together at an attempt to stop his hand, but all it seemed to do was piss him off and force your legs apart, his originally slow and curious pace becoming rougher.

You bit your lip hard, keeping in any sounds.

But in the end, your body betrayed you, and with a long whine and bucking hips, you released.

He pulled his hand away and for a moment you thought he was done for now.

Until you felt something rubbing against you, something you could tell already wouldn't fit.

"That's not gonna--!"

You whimpered as he effortlessly slid in with a gravelly groan, the stretch stung.

"It's not gunna--It's not gunna...Take it out...."

Your head thumped back onto the table.

Without a break in movement, he kept moving, the chain connecting your ankles lightly clinking.

You let out a little sob as you bit your lip, you didn't know if it was from the violation or the pleasure, possibly both.

Every time he thrust forward, you could feel the stretch.

"It's gunna...gunna..."

He slid his hand up your throat just enough to push down the lip your teeth dug into with an index finger.

He wanted to hear you.

But with defiance, you swallowed every sound you made.

Until the speed changed, the cold metal rubbing against your back from the table, a stark contrast to the heat you felt.

Finally, he started getting little sounds out of you, whimpers, pleads.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you empty, before easily moving the weighted chain that felt like a ton to you and flipping you over on your knees.

You winced as your face smacked into the table. Your arms still bound in front of you.

You groaned into the metal as he completely filled you again.

As he moved, you felt more force behind each thrust.

"I can't--It's too--too much-ah!"

He slammed harder, which made you try to cushion your face.

Your heard a few sharp grunts, yet not of effort, which didn't surprise you. You were probably a warm-up.

Your body gently quivered from the force.

And the chains loudly clinked in time with him.

"I--Mm--hah--Lemme..."

Combing his fingers into your hair, he tugged you back, landing seated in his lap.

He sat motionless for a few seconds, a throaty groan was let out.

You made one last attempt to wriggle away.

And you think that made him completely snap from annoyance.

And you knew this because when he moved again, it was like he'd decided to completely destroy you.

With roughness you never experienced before, a deepness you never felt, a speed you didn't know was possible, he pounded into you at least a few times before your skin even slapped against his again.

And it seemed he was satisfied, every sound you hid before was milked out until you couldn't even process where you were anymore.

All you could feel was him, the pleasure, that stretch, all you could hear was the squelching of your wetness.

Your mouth couldn't even close anymore, completely drunk off him.

Your thighs shook terribly, barely able to handle him.

And you wouldn't even be surprised if he still went easy on you.

You were close.

When he tightened his grip, cutting off your breathing that was it.

Your hips bucked wildly as you released for the second time, a long moan ripping out of you.

Clenching around him so deliciously made him follow after. Filling you to the brim, and dripping down his length.

You sighed, as you began to settle only to whimper when you realized...

He wasn't done yet.

#yautja #predator thirst #yautja thirst #predator x human #predator x reader #yautja x human #yautja x reader #yautja x female reader #slasher x reader #slasher fandom #predator #predator smut #yautja smut #yautja dark fic #dark fic #predator dark fic #size difference #here yall go #dark fantasies #monster fucker #alien vs predator #yautja breeding #slashers #slasher #predator x you #male yautja #predator movies #horror flicks

[yan-batgirl]

Chapter 4 - Black Eyes

Warnings: Mentions of child neglect, mentions of death of parents, emotional abuse, forced to grow up fast, Batgirl is raised as an outcast

(Anything that is bold and italic are parts of her past.)

After the failed mission, Y/N was in the batcave, sitting around the corner.

She was trying to think about Bruce's words, and it felt uneasy to her. His tone, his body language, and his facial expressions. Everything seemed... wrong about him. It was like he was a whole different person.

As she was in thought, she spots something on one of the swords on the wall. It was a long blade, black handle katana. It looked familiar to her for some reason.

She walks over to it and tries to take it, but she can't due to her height. So, she pushed a chair from the other side of the cave and climbed on top of it and got on her tippy toes. Finally, she got the hold of it until she stumbled on her balance and fell back from her chair.

When she fell, the blade of the katana landed between her legs as it barely stabbed her. She lets out a small, quiet yelp but relaxes when it doesn't get in contact with her.

Y/N was going to pick it up until she saw the initials on the handle of the katana.

黒い魂

She read the words in her head as it seemed familiar to her. She brushes the handle with her small fingers as she can feel some strange memories coming back.

"Are you trying to steal that or something?"

An unfamiliar voice calls out that made Y/N quickly look over her shoulder.

She sees a young woman in a wheelchair as she wheels over to her with a gentle smile on her face, indicating that she's no threat or danger, which makes the young girl feel relaxed.

"I- I wasn't trying to steal anything... Just looking."

Y/N said in a quiet tone as she placed the katana on the ground.

The young woman slightly bends over to see what she has and gently chuckles.

"So, you're also into swords, too? Not that it's a problem or anything."

She said as she crossed her arms.

"You must be the newest Batgirl. I heard so much about you."

She said with a smile as she looks down at Y/N

"Yeah... Um, how did you know who I am?"

She asks as the young woman wheels over to the computers area.

"Bruce told me. I was actually suprised how he managed to find someone like you."

She responds as she types in some stuff on the computer.

Y/N could only watch her type away the stuff to transfer the data to the computer she has back at the Gotham Clock tower.

Then, she turns her attention back to the katana on the ground and picks it up. She walks over to the young woman and stands next to her.

"Where did he get this?"

The question made her look down at Y/N and hold the katana in her small hands. Then, she takes it from her and examines it

"I'm not so sure... This doesn't look too old and it's very clean."

She said as she brushed the blade with her fingertips as she examined the clear blade.

"Why? Is there something you want to tell me about this?"

She asks as she stares down at Y/N.

The young girl seems hesitant, but she just shook her head slowly.

"N-No..."

She said before she turns and walks away.

"Goodnight, um...-"

"Barbara."

"What?"

Y/N asks when she turns to the young woman who said that her name is Barbara.

"Barbara Gordon. That's my name."

She said with a smile.

The young girl just nods slowly before she walks out of the batcave.

~~~~~

Y/N is now in her bedroom as she is lying down on her bed. She was shifting in her covers as the image of the katana she discovered earlier was stuck in her head. She tried to get it out, but couldn't.

She could hear familiar voices in her head and surroundings as she tried to block them away.

"That disgusting child."

"No wonder why her mother was thrown away."

"I can't believe she has the eyes of a monster!"

Then, she opened her eyes.

~~~~~

The minute she opened her eyes, she checked her surroundings to see herself in.

It was cold, but the atmosphere felt... peaceful.

Her own footsteps could be heard as she walked down whatever path she was on.

The further she walked, the further she would see the aura changing from light to dark.

As she continued to walk, she stopped in her tracks to see a figure from afar.

The mysterious figure had their back turned as their long black hair and straw hat were covering their face.

Y/N squinted her eyes a bit before she let out a small gasp.

"Daddy...?"

With her words heard, the figure slowly turns as the void starts to vanish.

In a panic, Y/N quickly tries to run to him, but it's making her move back.

"Wait! I need to know! Please!"

She calls out before it all disappears.

However, she took a glimpse of the figure and caught their black eyes.

~~~~~

A sharp gasp filled the air as Y/N woke up from whatever dream or nightmare that was.

Her forehead was covered with beads of sweat as she was breathing heavily. She placed her hand on her chest as she felt her beating heartbeat.

She checks her surroundings once again to find herself inside her own bedroom. She was her huge, pink princess bed. She looked down to see the stack of books she used to get on the bed and the giant pink carpet with flower and heart patterns on it. She looks over to see the shelves that are filled with different kinds of stuffed animals. And then she looks to the other side of the bedroom to see her vanity mirror desk and a drawer right next to it.

With a small breath of relief after knowing that all of this was just a dream, she slowly got out of bed and made sure that her small feet landed on top of the book stash.

Once she got down, she opened the pink curtains that made the sunlight hit her face. She covers her eyes as she looks up at the shiny sun.

"It's bright today."

She mutters out before she leaves her bedroom.

~~~~~

Outside of the mansion, the sounds of the blade cutting the wind could be heard as Y/N was swinging the katana she found last night and using it for practice.

She takes a step back before she swings it once again except this time, the sword fell out of her small hands. This made her quickly pick it up and check if the blade was still clean.

"So, this is where you were."

A voice calls out, making Y/N turn around to see Alfred from the doorway.

"Master Bruce had been looking all over for you. It seemed like you woke up before he could."

He said with a light chuckle.

However, Y/N only stared up at him as she held onto the katana handle. So, Alfred took note of it as he stared at the young girl.

"What were you doing with that sword?"

He asks her.

"To master my sword skills. And obtain the same techniques that my father had used."

She tells him as she stares down at the katana in her hand.

It was silent before the butler asked her one question.

"Why do you want to have the skills of a great swordsman?"

This made Y/N stand where she was as she was in thought. She lets out a sigh.

"Alfred. There is something that I've kept for a very long time. Something that made me unchange myself. Whatever kind of ways that could help wouldn't break my shell..."

She said as she looked up at him before she began to tell him a story.

~~~~~

"Before I was born, my father was known as the silent warrior who would walk around the world to seek whatever path he came across. Whatever path that his eyes would land on like a silent crane."

"One day, he came across the leader to the greatest group of assassins. The leader challenged him to a duel that he ultimately lost with one blade. Because of this, he was targeted among the assassins."

"However, when my mother took the job of killing him off, she and my father had the same kind of duel. But, this resulted in them falling in love. Because of how much love they had for each other, they knew what kind of consequences they would have."

"That was until I was born."

"That was also when the assassins including the leader found out about their secret affair and me."

"This lead to them getting separated from each other as I was left only with those assassins who I seen them as family. But, because of my father's history with them, I was shut out by them and was forced to raise to be one of them."

"No matter what I try to please everyone around them, they did nothing but view me... as a monster."

~~~~~

When the word 'monster' left her mouth, Y/N couldn't help but look away from Alfred as if she was ashamed of herself.

"Those were the only things that I remembered back in the days. I'm nothing but a monster. A creature of shame."

She said as she shut her eyes tightly before she slowly opened them.

"I may not know who are responsible for the deaths of my parents, but I will be responsible for their fate. After I kill the person who took away the people who created me, I vowed to myself that I would never kill again."

She said with a stern look before she looked down at the blade of the katana that showed off her own reflection. This made her look at her own black eyes.

After the words that spilled out of Y/N's mouth, Alfred spoke up.

"I see... You must have a lot of emotions built up inside you. I understand as I was in the same position as you were."

He said that made the young girl look up at him.

"I had a lot of memories where I regret a lot of things. There are times when I wanted to hurt someone who decided to cause damage to the people who I deeply care about, such as you, Master Bruce, and many others. However, I know that this would make me feel worse about myself because not only I would hurt the offender, but the people around me."

The butler explains in a calm tone before he bends down to her height and places his hand on Y/N's shoulder.

"You are a brave girl, Miss Y/N. We all do, including myself. But, I don't want you to regret the decisions that could risk your own life."

He tells her before he stands up to his full height.

"Your breakfast will be on the kitchen table. Come in and enjoy it whenever you want."

He tells her with a gentle smile before he walks back into the home.

Y/N only watches him leave as she thinks about his words and choices before she looks up at the sky. She could feel the leaves fall out of the tree and land on her head and onto the ground.

She couldn't help but feel relaxed and calm as she watched whatever fell from the trees around the manor.

(Please do NOT steal my art!)

~~~~~

"黒い魂" - "Black Soul"

#yandere #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #yandere dc #platonic #batfam #yandere platonic #x child reader #yandere x reader #batgirl reader

[fieldofdaisiies]

Can't get enough of Clingy baby Azriel..😭

Ik you've already written enough of Cling Az HC...Could you plzz write more. ?🙈😭❤🥺

I'm just addicted to your writing. ❤

that is so perfectly fine because love clingy Az❤️ thank you!!!!

lets do some early morning clingy Az headcanons

he has a day off and you don't -> meaning you have to get up while he can sleep in

but Azriel does not like it when you have to get up, the bed feels so cold all of a sudden

and he will make sure to not make getting pup to easy for you

you always sleep in his arms, this tall Illyrian male just needs you. in his arms every night, like you are his little cuddly toy

so when you start wiggling he will just curl his arms tighter around you

and when your backside rubs against his front because you wiggle a little more his groan will be audible in your ear "stay," he rasps in his hoarse morning voice, sending shivers down your body

Azriel buries his face in the crook of your neck, kissing you softly "I need you. stay." "Az, I have to get up." "Please." At least then he starts using his whiny baby voice, softly pecking your skin

you wiggle again, trying to shift in his hold "Az, I need to go to work." "You don't need to work, take a day off."

you finally manage to fully shift and glance up at him

sleep is written all over his face, dark hair toppling over his forehead, his lips pouted, his lids half closed "please stay, baby."

wiggling an arm free, you bring your hand up and brush your fingers over his forehead, admiring how beautiful he is even a few minutes after waking up

Azriel smiles softly when your fingers dane over his cheek and. his nose, it is adorable and then he giggles softly when you brush your fingers over his lips

he parts his mouth slightly and kisses your fingers before nibbling on them "Azzy!"

releasing your fingers, his brows furrow and he pouts again "stay in bed with me please."

you release a loud breath "five more minutes but then I really need to leave."

he smiles happily, moving you even closer

you also snuggle up to him, drawing in his scent, his chest brushing against you with every breath he inhales

but then the five minutes are over and Azriel does still not see you getting up as an option

so he does what he always does when he wants you to stay in bed with him

he rolls over until he is lying on top of you, covering you wholly, his large body and his wings trapping you on the bed

you groan loudly, trying to catch air when this tall Illyrian baby is nearly suffocating you "Azriel!"

Your voice is loud, but Azriel only grins agains the side of your face

he kisses your cheek "I love it when you scream my name."

giving your eyes a tiny roll, you ignore this compliment and also that your traitorous toes curl on the bed

"no you have no other option than staying." "I have to work." "And I have to cuddle you."

and as much as you want to stay with him, you really don't to be late again

so there are only two options 1. tickling him which is mostly not successful as he is not really ticklish 2. but one body part is ticklish -> his wings

wiggling one arm free, you poke his wing, right where it tickles so much and then poke his wing again in a different part

Azriel yelps, jerking upwards and then laughs

you take the chance, shoving him away

and then you roll out of bed, before sprinting to the bathroom

his brows are furrowed and his lips pouted, he sits in bed when you return from the bathroom "why did you not want to cuddle with me?"

you walk up to him, hands placed on his shoulders and kiss his forehead "I do want to cuddle with you, but right now I am busy. I have to. go to work. We cuddle in the evening again."

Azriel tugs on the hem of your shirt "You still love me thought right?"

he leans forward and places a kiss to your cleavage

you chuckles softly, thumb brushing over his cheek "More than anything. more than my own life. to the moon and back."

that makes him smile up at you, the hazel of his eyes glowing "I think I love you a little more."

#azriel x reader #azriel headcanons

[dickarchivist]

Don't Stop on my Account

Wolffe × Fem!Reader, new/budding relationship

MINORS BEGONE 🔞

Warnings: n s f w 18+, self pleasure, fantasizing, watching, unprotected PiV sex, overstim, yearning, touch of angst, and smut, so much smut

Summary: missing your new sweetheart's touch, you decide to go solo, only to discover you're not as alone as you thought you were 👀

Little over 1800 words

Author's notes: I haven't written in a long time so sorry if this is rough! Wolffe is my fav clone so this is incredibly self indulgent yeehaw. Also use protection!

You'd been warned so many times. "Stay away from the republic clones, they're hot but there's no guarantees with them." Your friends know you well, you have the habit of falling for people a little too hard, a little too fast. And they were right, of course, you'd met plenty of clones that never came back. Even so, knowing all this: When Wolffe was around, all of your logic seemed to be thrown away.

You'd spent every night for a few weeks with him. As soon as he was allowed away from his post, and you with work, you'd find each other. In the morning he'd wake you before he left your flat with a soft kiss, just enough that you'd be able to fall back asleep once he was gone. Wolffe would make sure you knew he had a good time, and he was excited to see you again. The cycle repeated until one day, it didn't.

Wolffe doesn't wake you with a kiss that day, he tries to sneak out, but catches his boot on last night's clothes, and his stifled, "Kriff!" wakes you instead. He blushes when you look at him with a pout, hair tossed and body bare to him. "So you're leaving today, hm?"

"I uh... I am," Wolffe straightens up, putting on the cold stare he gave to others. You'd never seen it aimed at you before, and it makes you feel small. "I got my orders last night, headed--"

But that smallness only lives until "last night" tumbles from his lips. You sit up a little with betrayal clear on your face, angry now, "You got them last night and you didn't think to tell me?" You don't know why that hurts so much, but it does. It hurts more than you thought it ever would.

But he looks hurt too, his eyes heavy with guilt now as he glares at the floor, "I didn't know how, okay? This- this thing, it's new to me, kriff, you have me thinking I could--" He stops, and you wait for him to continue, but he just shakes his head and lets the thought die, "I'll be back soon."

"How soon?"

"Sooner than you think... but not as soon as we'd hope."

You want to be mad, stars you want to tell him to fuck off... But you find yourself instead getting out of bed and moving to kiss him. Wolffe doesn't hesitate to lean down and kiss you back, collecting you in his arms and holding you close. His armor feels cold against your bare skin and he chuckles when you pull away.

He admires your goosebumps, that cocky smirk on his face as he touches your body. His glove hand runs over your breast, circling your nipple, and you moan softly at his touch. Before you can even think, the words come out, "Please stay..."

The sadness returns to his eyes instantly, "I can't..." you stand in silence, before he takes your hand and squeezes it, then presses it to his lips, "Tell me to come back safe instead, Mesh'la..."

"No..." you set yourself against his chest, one hand were his heart would be as the other hugs around his waist, "I don't want you to leave at all. Stay with me."

Wolffe tilts your head to look at him. His voice is stern, but there's a plea in his eyes, a need to hear you say it, "Tell me to come back safe."

You get on your toes and place one more kiss to his lips, whispering against him, "Come home to me, Wolffe. Come home safe..."

"I will." He kisses you once more before he leaves you standing there alone.

You miss him. You miss him for a long time.

When you get back into bed, your mind goes back to the night before he left. You wish the sheets still smelled like him, and all you want is his touch, his warmth. The feeling of his hands on your body as he handles you, his lips on your skin, his teeth marking your neck, and his length deep within your walls.

"Wolffe..." you whimper, shutting your eyes. Your nipples are the last place you felt his bare handed touch, so you decide to start there, and you whimper again, "Wolffe..." as you feel yourself up.

When you start to rub your legs together, you lay yourself on your back and run one hand down your stomach. The memory of Wolffe's hand running the same course sending chills over you. You open your legs for yourself- no, for him. Always for him, you think to yourself, picturing Wolffe between your legs again.

You bite your bottom lip and moan as you slide your fingers between your folds. "F-fuck-- Wolffe~ oh~" He'd chuckle if he were there, you think, telling you how pretty your folds looks all wet for him, "O-only for you". Your fingers spread your slick from your entrance up to your clit, and you moan again, mimicking his tongue with your fingers.

"Wolffe, oh~" you feel yourself throb as you start rubbing circles into yourself. You have to use three fingers to match the size of his two, and you moan louder, "Fuck me, please, oh, ah..."

You let go of your nipple and bring your other hand down, teasing your entrance as you rub your clit. You can hear Wolffe in your head saying how needy you are, telling you to ask for what you want, and maybe he'll give it to you.

"I-I want you, I want you, please oh-" you slip two fingers inside your slick walls and clench around them, gasping, "Wolffe!!"

It's then that you hear a low chuckle, "You want me, hm?" and your eyes open. You're not sure how you willed him back. Your hands slow a bit, and Wolffe chuckles again, starting to remove his clothes, "Don't stop on my account Mesh'la. Go on, touch yourself. I want to see you."

Renewed blush burns your cheeks and shoulders as you watch him strip down to nothing but his small clothes. The bulge in his shorts makes you ache, but all he does is set his hands on your knees and spread you open a little more, "Keep going, I want to see how this plays out."

Wolffe watches your hands with hungry eyes as you do what your told. He kisses your inner thighs as your hand rubs faster against your clit, fingers curling inside your walls with a sweet wet smack. "Wolffe... I'm- I'm close, please..."

"Cum then," Wolffe bites your soft skin and you moan for him, clenching around your fingers, "When you cum, I'll give you what you want."

"I want you..." you pant, moving faster as you feel your climax building, "I want you, Wolffe, I want you, I--" he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, rolling it between his teeth, sucking and flicking it with his tongue.

Your hands move faster in your walls and on your clit, and as you spasm under your own touch, back arching off your bed, you scream his name, "Wolffe!! Oh!"

Before you can come down from your own pleasure, with your head still spinning, Wolffe begins to move. He takes your hands from yourself and places your slick fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean of your slick. When he's done with your hands, he puts them over your head, with a cocky chuckle, "Tell me what you want."

"I want you," You're so dizzy, but you open yourself to him and put your legs over his waist, "I want you Wolffe, please... please..."

"What do you want Mesh'la?" You can tell he's teasing you. He likes it when you get crude with him about your desires. Walking in on you masturbaiting to a fantasy of him must have done wonders for his ego, and it's showing. He rolls his hips forward, barely grazing your folds with his bulge, but it's enough to make you squirm and moan. "I'll ask again," he rolls his hips once more, "What do you want?"

Your heart pounds, and you lean your head to the side, "Fuck me!"

Your hips come up, trying to gain any friction, and you whine, turning to look at him again, "Fuck me Wolffe, I need you. Please!"

"Since you asked so nicely~" Wolffe leans back from between your legs and removes his shorts finally, freeing his length with a sigh of relief.

You expected him to climb back into the bed, but he pulls you forward by your spread legs, bringing you to the edge of the bed. You hook your legs around his waist again as he slides his length through your folds. Wolffe stimulates your clit with the head of his length, then slides it down to your entrance. He teases you a little, "Already prepped for me, hm? It's like you knew I'd want to be deep in you when I got back."

You open your mouth to retort, but all that comes is a drawn out moan as Wolffe's length fills you for the first time in what feels like an eternity. The clone gives his own grunt of content as he presses a hand onto your belly and fills you completely, "You feel so good, so wet for me."

"O-only for you..." you pant, hands gripping the sheets above you.

Wolffe smirks at you as he slowly drags his hips back, only to snap them forward quick and rough. A surprised, "Ah!" Comes from you, and your back arches. He does it again, and again, building speed until you're bouncing on his cock. He holds your waist and fucks into you hard, the sweet wet slaps of skin on skin filling your bedroom. The sounds mingle in the air with grunts and moans, names whispered and then yelled soon after.

You feel another climax starting to threaten, and you look up into Wolffe's eyes, seeing the same building pressure on his face. His hand goes to your clit and you scream his name in ecstasy as he fucks into you wildly, hips surging forward in sporadic hard thrusts. Wolffe grits his teeth as he spends himself deep within your walls, collapsing forward onto your shaking body as you both bask in the after glow.

Your arms tremble as you hug around his chest, moaning as he lazily rolls his hips with aftershocks. As Wolffe kisses your neck, you bury your face in his shoulder, placing your own soft kisses to his hot skin, "Welcome home, Wolffe..."

#commander wolffe #fanfic #sw fic #smut #sorry for you know *gestures at fic* #wolffe x reader #wolffe x you #tcw smut

[suhjihanma]

Can I ask you a threesome with inui and rindou for kinktober? I'll leave it to your imagination 👀💀

I have this as a headcannon, if you don't mind, anon. Apologies for getting this out so late. Been preparing for my trip to NekoCon this weekend.

Pairing: Seishu Inui / Rindou Haitani / Female Reader Kink (12) : DDLG Content Warning: Please read this, ddlg, semi age regression, ddlg, minor hints of age play, threesome, hints towards a threesome, implied use of adult pacifiers, word use of baby girl-baby-big girl-little one, female reader just wants her stuffy and have her holes filled.

Author's Note: Late piece for my kinktober. Can't believe that I was getting in my groove but, alas, work and school. I don't why but I've been on an extreme daddy kink phase right now. (Thanks, boyfriend). Minors, ageless blogs, and kink shamers do not interact. This story can contain content that skirts around the whole ddlg lifestyle so, if you do not like this kink, please don't interact with this story. For those who are curious, please read at your own risk. Thank you.

You wasn't a stranger to the questionable kinks that cater to dominance and submission, but it didn't hurt to try something once.

Now, you see yourself on your knees begging for a quick release. The stamina grew weaken as you lowered your head to the floor, soft pants escaping your soft lips. You didn't know you came into submission. All you knew was that both men towered above you with smirks plastered across their faces. Smirks read nothing but deviance, your breathes grew to be jagged as you weep quietly on the cold floor.

"What should our baby do next?" Said the stoic voice of Inui as he walked closer to your pathetic pose of a plead. The man studied your quivering frame before tapping his shoes to the side of your thighs. You catered your attention to the foot tapping as you nibble your bottom lip, creating a self soothing technique that barely helped.

"She should probably suck on our cocks." Chuckled Rindou as he focused his attention towards you, his tone similar of Inui's.

"I-" Raising your head, you were about to voice a reasoning for protest until Inui shushed you with the edge of his loafers. The cool leather complimented well with the warm surface of your quivering lips. You didn't know what Inui was planning on next as he verbally shushed you with a "quiet".

"Then again, we should probably ween her off her pacis." Another chuckled came from Rindou as he walked towards you, now squatting down to be on your level as he continues with his petty ridicules.

"Isn't that right, baby girl?"

"Don't call me that!" You rebutted with a pout, huffing about the childish nickname that Rindou rewarded you with. As your body slightly shifts with the feeling of embarrassment, Inui chimed in the conversation with words of encouragement.

"She hates that, you know. After all, she's a big girl." Inui flashes you a soft smile before gently patting your cheeks with one of the toes of his loafers. "Aren't you?"

You flashes Inui a worried smile and shook your head furiously. "I am."

Rindou looks at Inui before looking at you with a frown that deemed disappointing. You were glad that Inui was at least trying to save you in this conversation. Regardless of you being on your weakened knees, contemplating on how to fully submit yourself while not being a brat, you secretly enjoyed the position that you were placed in. Forcefully so, yet, for some reason it was exciting.

"And big girls will try and take two cocks, isn't that right, little one?" Rindou's frown soon was replaced with a devious smirk as he looked at you. Eyes like a doe appeared as you looked back with the plastered pout on your face. Anxiety was sensing over you as you gulped.

"Don't rush her, our baby has to get use to taking us." Smiled Inui as he flashed a concerning look over at Rindou. "For now, let her take me. Then, if you feel like she's wet enough then you can try, Rindou."

You didn't know what Rindou was going to say or do next after Inui's comment. He continued to stare at Inui with a look of defeat before clicking his tongue softly in disappointment.

The adrenaline of forceful regression was something new of sorts. You were pretty much in control of how you wanted to act. Being a spoiled brat who deserves more than being placed on their knees and spanked, or even a submissive princess that waits for every command that leaks from their lips. The options of the two were in your favor. Still, you knew that they will still cherish you regardless.

You just hope that Inui will speak up for you in a predicament like this.

After all, daddies help their little girls out all the time.

All the time, right?

#tokrev #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev headcanons #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x you #tokrev x reader #tokrev smut #tokyo rev #inui seishu #inui x reader #seishu inui #seishu inui x reader #inui smut #inui seishu smut #rindou haitani x reader #rindou smut #rindou haitani #rindou x reader #tokyo revengers rindou #tr rindou #haitani rindou

[starlightshadowsworld]

The fucking grip the aftermath of the boat fight has on my soul.

Just... Atsushi gripping Poe's book like a lifeline. Because Ranpo's inside and Atsushi can't lose him.

He can't lose anyone else.

He's drenched from head to toe in water but it doesn't register to him. Atsushi won't take off Akutugawa's coat because he's afraid it'll vanish if he does.

It's all he has left of him.

Atsushi who's had it beaten into him that he doesn't deserve to live, if he can't save others.

Blaming himself for all of this.

Because it should've been him. It was supposed to be him. The whole world was supposed to turn on me, so why didn't he?

Why am I still here?

Ango helping Atsushi out of the water.

Seeing a familiar coat and an even more familiar blank stare. Eyes that were always warm and bright now empty and cold.

The look of a man who had lost everything. Something in Ango's chest hurts, he'd promised to protect this kid.

And here he was.

Ango sits Atsushi down, grabs a towel from his car and asks if he can dry him off. Because Atsushi won't do it himself, it's like he's not even here with him.

Atsushi just nods.

Ango's never been much of a talker, but he starts talking about some company party he was invited too a while back.

He's not sure if Atsushi is listening but he knows he needs something to distract him. Ango's done this routine more than anyone could've guessed.

At some point the book begins to glow, Ranpo appears before them. There's none of his usual fan fair and snark. He looks around wildly before his gaze settles onto Atsushi.

Several emotions flash through Ranpo's eyes, settling on relief and he takes a few hesitant steps forward.

Atsushi doesn't react.

"Atsushi."

"You're not real."

Ranpo smiles but it's sad. "How do I prove I'm real, Atsushi?"

Atsushi putting the book down to reach into his pocket and pulling out a lollipop. Handing it to Ranpo who huffs.

"I would never have that, it's nasty."

And Atsushi nodding because that's true and he holds another one that Ranpo beams at and takes. Because it's his favourite and only Ranpo would know...

Ranpo's here and he's real.

Ranpo holding his arms out to catch Atsushi as he sobs. He cards a hand through Atsushi's hair like he's seen Dazai do countless times.

He won't pretend like he's not happy Atsushi survived. He won't pretend he's not relieved that Atsushi is safe.

But he can't pretend he doesn't feel guilty watching him cry. It was the only way he'd survive, jumping into Poe's book.

That didn't make leaving him feel any better.

So Ranpo holds Atsushi who grips onto him because he's so afraid Ranpo will vanish. And Ranpo swears he will never leave Atsushi again.

He knew Atsushi wouldn't run. He knew Atsushi wouldn't leave him behind. He'd rather than die and the ache in Ranpo's heart only grows.

He doesn't want to know how the fight went. Not yet at least, Atsushi deserved all the time he could get to heal.

Time Ranpo couldn't give him but he'd give him as long as he could.

He helps Atsushi to his feet, they head into Ango's car. Ango puts on the heating to try and warm Atsushi back up.

Atsushi, exhausted falls asleep with his head on Ranpo's shoulder. Ranpo and Ango exchange looks in the mirror.

He was under their protection now.

Like I am so close to just writing this into a fic like... Ahhh.

#atsushi nakajima #bsd atsushi #bsd ranpo #ranpo edogawa #bsd ango #ango sakaguchi #bungou stray dogs #Bsd

[funbirdnest]

Atlantis - Prologue

Hello! I will be translating the fine climax event Blue Ocean * The shining truth of Atlantis. This translation comes in collaboration with @spectralpooch and mia (nenosuns)

English proofreader: @spectralpooch

Japanese proofreader: nenosuns

Second part hasnt come out yet but I hope you enjoy the story

(A dream. Or, perhaps, the harsh reality of Himemiya Tori)

Tori: (………….)

(I can't… breathe... )

(It hurts. It hurts so, so much.)

(I can't keep my eyes open… I can't see anything.)

(It's so dark and cold in here.)

(It's cold. So, so cold.)

(I'm about to freeze…. Why is it so cold?)

(Hey, is anyone there?)

(Yuzuru! Hibiki-senpai! Eichi-sama…!)

(Is anyone there? Anyone would be fine, please I…)

(It hurts. I can't see anything. And it's so, so, so cold.)

(Where even am I? Why am I in such a…?)

(Eichi-sama! Eichi-sama! Eichi-sama!)

(The place where you stand is so high, and it looks so cold…)

(I stretched my hand as far as I could and desperately tried to reach you.)

(But I'm not an angel, and I wasn't able to fly through the sky.)

(So I succumbed. My wings shattered and I crashed down.)

(Ah, is this the sea?)

(I must be at the very bottom of the deep, deep sea, where no light can reach.)

(Is that why it's so cold, so dark, and so hard to breathe?)

(Cough... cough... cough...)

Yuzuru: … Bocchama?

I-Is everything all right?

You collapsed during SS and you are still recovering, so you shouldn't overexert yourself—

Tori: Hh... hh... Ugh... gh...

Yuzuru: If you are unable to respond, then I will have no choice but to call an ambulance immediately...

Tori: Pant... Pant... Yu-Yuzuru?

Yuzuru: Yes. It is me, Yuzuru.

I am here by your side, as always.

Tori:… Yeah. Guess you are.

Hehe... Even though I came to live in the dorms, I ended up sharing a room with you, Yuzuru. So tiresome.

And here I thought I'd be able to do whatever I wanted without nosy people like you spying on me all the time.

Yuzuru: Jesting aren't we? Nevertheless, even if we were to be assigned different rooms, Bocchama, I would still choose to reside in your room.

So that I can be by your side and serve you. After all, taking care of you is my job, as well as my reason to live.

Tori: Uwaaah... Groooss... You're so annoying ♪

Yuzuru: Fufu. Your words and actions don't match at all.

Right now you're holding my hand so tightly—Bocchama, I'm always going to have my hands full looking after a spoiled child like you, aren't I?

Tori: I'm sorry. I just had a really scary dream.

I may have said some weird things in my sleep because of that. But I'm fine now—It's not like I have a cold or anything.

I'm sure that I'll be able to get back to working super hard by tomorrow.

Yuzuru: Hmm... Indeed, your temperature appears to be normal. It's occasionally hard to tell because your body temperature, like a child's, is naturally high.

Tori: When did you measure my temperature?

Yuzuru: With my talents, I have the power to change your clothing from head to toe without you noticing a thing, Bocchama.

Since I know where all your nerves and sensitive points are, I can check your body thoroughly without you feeling anything, much like an acupuncture session—

Tori: Wait, wait, that's so scary! I swear, sometimes your weird, mysterious skills are way too scary and gross!

Yuzuru: Oh, but I trained especially for you, Bocchama ♪

Tori: Yeah, and that's why you're so scary!

Yuzuru: There's no need for you to be scared, because I will always be on your side, Bocchama.

Tori: I know~ And I'm grateful but… Having someone way more talented than I am devote their entire life to me is a lot to deal with.

And I don't feel worthy enough of being treated like that.

Yuzuru: What are you saying? It seems as though the nightmare you just had has left you quite anxious.

But don't you worry. Bocchama is a good and virtuous person who is worthy of my service.

If you continue to doubt my words, I can sit at your bedside and repeat them a million times over into your ear.

Tori: I think I'll have another nightmare if you do, so please don't.

Yuzuru: I only wanted to whisper about... my love for you, Bocchama.

Tori: You're half asleep too, aren't you, Yuzuru?

Oh, no wonder—it's already 3 AM. And yet I woke you up while you were fast asleep. Sorry about that.

Yuzuru: Not at all. It would be troublesome if something were to happen to you, so please do not hesitate to rely on me if you are not feeling well.

There is no need to concern yourself with time or circumstances.

I have said so many times already, but once again: I am, now and forever, your most faithful ally and I will always put you first no matter what.

Please, don't ever forget that.

Tori: Hm…I get that too.

Yuzuru: Has your anxiety passed?

Tori: For now, yeah... Ah, now that I'm more relaxed, I'm starting to get sleepy.

Yuzuru: That's good to hear. Shall we hold hands like this until you fall asleep?

Tori: I'm not a baby. Yuzuru, you have work tomorrow as well, right? So you should hurry up and sleep too.

I feel just fine now.

#ensemble stars #enstars #enstars translation #Atlantis #enstars fine #tori himemiya #yuzuru fushimi

[tulipsforvin]

Hello! It's my first time doing requests, so I'm sorry if i bother you!

Can I request for a William Moriarty x Fem!Reader fluff headcanon during cold weather? It can be either rainy days or winter days! Or maybe both haha. Please make it super fluffy and warm!

Thanks a lot, have a nice day~

★ winter + rainy days hc's with william

a/n: HEYEYE!! i'm not fully back yet! just clearing up my requests so i won't have a tough time when my break finishes :) + its not a bother at all!

pairings: william j. moriarty x fem!reader (i said fem!reader but all i'm doing is using ‹you's› 😭

❄️;; winter —

✧ william always has your hands stuffed inside the pockets of his coat whenever the two of you are walking side by side. he'll interlace your fingers w/ his as well.

“there we go.” he tucks your hand inside of his pocket, intertwining your hands. “much better.”

✧ he finds it absolutely endearing how your cheeks look rosy due to the cold weather. he'll cup your red-tinted cheeks in his slender hands and press warm kisses on the tip of your nose.

“you're as adorable as always, my dear.”

✧ william likes taking you out on little walks in the snow, then stopping by a quaint little cafe or restaurant for some hot chocolate, coffee or tea.

✧ plus, he loves watching your face light up as you take a sip of your hot drink. (softly swipes away at the froth that's settled over your lips w a small chuckle!!)

✧ william is somewhat a worrywart when it comes to you so he'll always be wrapping you in the most outrageously large scarves and clothes until you've burst out laughing and telling him how you feel like an abominable snowman.

“now now, darling, we can't have you catching a cold, can we?”

✧ when the windows are fogged from the freezing temperature, the two of you will be sitting together by the windows; lazily playing tic-tac-toe on the glass, of course, until you get fired up because of the constant losses while playing w/ him.

“mm? another round? are you sure?”

☔;; monsoon —

✧ william tends to get a little lazier during the rainy season so he's always pulling you back to bed, mumbling sleepily for five more minutes w/ you.

✧ he enjoys listening to you while enjoying something steaming hot (tea, stew, hotpot wtv!!). he'll silently tuck a few strands of stray hair behind your ear with the most fond expression on his face as he listens to you babble.

“aha. is that right?”

✧ there was a time the two of you went waltzing under the rain and it's absolutely, utterly engraved inside of his brain. sometimes when it's raining, he'll look at you from the corner of his eye expectantly - secretly wondering if that experience will happen once more. (will literally do his best to hide it when you ask, though)

“why am i staring? nothing, love. i'm merely thinking about how you're the best thing that's happened to me.”

✧ william likes reading books alongside you by the fireplace during rainy days. the two of you huddle up and share your warmth while enjoying hot chocolate together.

“shall we read together?”

✧ when the weather outside is frightful, there's nothing better than snuggling up with william underneath a pile of warm blankets. he'll hold you close, pressing kisses to your forehead as you drift off to sleep. (he might hum you to sleep too!!)

“shh. that's alright, we can talk more once you wake up.”

✧ he likes playing board games with you when the clouds are heavy. if the two of you are playing chess, he'll look at you with the softest of eyes, the slightest tilts of his head & the subtlest of smiles while you're focused on planning your next move on the chess board.

“how adorable you look when you're so terribly determined to beat me.”

✧ picks you up bridal style if you're trying to cross a puddle or something since he doesn't want your dress getting wet and dirty (assuming f!reader wears a dress since it's the 1900's)

✧ he holds the umbrella over your heads' while you're walking beside him. it doesn't matter if his arms are already laden with shopping bags and whatnot. he'll always shield you from the rain.

“join me, dear. i don't want you getting wet.”

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #william james moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #serraaphim answers #william james moriarty x y/n #william james moriarty x you

[ameliawarnerr]

POV: MC is drunk at Aurora and she texts Jake.

Part - 2

Find part 1 here!

—MC—

I tip-toe down the stairs, my hand grazing the wall as I silently pray not to wake anybody. And by anybody, I mean, Lilly Donfort, Hannah Donfort and Jake Donfort. I am the only one who isn't Donfort so I figured I should get the hell out of here before any of them wakes up. Explaining my presence here is not going to be easy.

I'm clearly in the clothes I wore last night– all wrinkled and shrunken. I have no idea where my phone, my shoes or oh wait I don't know where my entire logic has vanished.

If I ran into someone, I truly hope it to be Lilly. And she could even tell me why I am at her place. Perhaps she found me and then rescued me here. Obviously, it cannot be Hannah. She doesn't even come out of the house that often. If I am unfortunate enough to run into her this morning, I have no clue what I am supposed to say. What if she thinks I slept with her half brother?!

Did I?

However, if I'm as ill-fated as Shakespeare’s tragic characters, I’d definitely come across Jake.

Although it cannot be Jake who got me here. He never goes to Aurora and if Phil was to call anyone to help me, the list would start with Jessy and end with Thomas. Jake wouldn't make it to that list for obvious reasons.

I successfully lay my feet on the ground floor. It's five in the morning. No one would be awake. I sprint straight to the door, paying little attention to my surroundings. I'd have my phone collected later. I'm currently in the red zone of potential awkward situations, followed by guilt and longing. All things I hate.

My hand wraps around the cold knob of the door. I turn it around but it's locked. “Son of a…”

“Where do you think you are leaving?” A distant voice makes a trail of obscene words escape my mouth. Whoever is writing my story is clearly inspired by Shakespeare.

I clear my throat, removing my hand from the knob. I don't turn away as I say, “I don't know how I got here but I need to be back at home. I have an important thing to do.”

“Make a mindmap of all the things that happened last night? I can help.” His voice is a little distracted, taunting and infuriating.

I scoff, turning away to look at him. He’s behind the kitchen island which I had conveniently ignored on the little run from the stairs to the door. He's cooking something. If he really wants to play the indirect, between the lines tormenting game, I think he doesn't know my argumentative and bitch side because I had a soft spot for him as soon as I knew him.

“If you are really feeling helpful, Donfort, then, why don't you tell me what I am doing here?” I fold my hands on my chest. Addressing the opponent with the last name is sort of a declaration.

He doesn't look at me as he sprinkles salt and black pepper onto whatever he's cooking in that pan. My eyes descend to his hands as he works before I jerk them away. “Oh, I stalked you and then I found out that you were drunk and vulnerable so I kidnapped you.” He deadpans.

I scoff again. Jake doesn't beat around the bush. If he's doing this, he wants to make a point.

“I can't imagine why you'd do that.” I crease my brows, pretending to be genuinely confused. I walk towards him. As I lay my palms on the island, I see the slight shake of his hand and his posture becoming rigid. I don't know if it's my closeness or that I indirectly pointed at our history because as much as we both try to ignore it, one of us would mention it. And I can't be the one being caught off-guard.

“Kidnappers often have motivations and planning for months but sometimes, they are driven by reasons that might be beyond the victim’s understanding.” He states, his hands moving swiftly again as he lowers the flame of the stove. There's a mug filled with coffee. I eye it.

Jake looks up then follows my gaze as I look away. He grabs the mug and offers it to me. I take it without saying thank you.

“What’s your point?” I cut to the chase. I'm used to him being percipient and having thoughts a normal human being can't fathom, but I could understand his points. I can, still. But it's five in the morning.

“My point, Stephens, is that the motivation for abduction doesn't matter if you are the victim.” He uses my last name.

“It mattered when Hannah was kidnapped.” I rebuke.

He sighs, putting the stove off and really looking at me for the first time. I might be tackling the guilt of shutting him out internally but the longing is coming out on the surface. “Again, it mattered to us. Not to Hannah. All she could have thought about was finding a way out or regretting being careless in the first place.”

I know what this is about now. No matter the status of our relationship, I don't think he can ever hold back from lecturing me about my own safety. I shove down the softness that his care brings in me and think about how much I hate being called weak. “So this is about my getting drunk in a bar owned by a friend.”

He gives me a look.

“What? It's not like I was totally alone. Phil was there and he's a friend. I'm allowed to get wasted in the company of a friend. And he owns the bar. There's no way he'd let anyone hurt me on his property.”

If I hate being called weak– directly or indirectly– he hates when I trust Phil.

“The same Phil Hawkins who got arrested and had to plead for help to a stranger towns away? The same guy whose bar Cleo and Thomas broke into and he couldn't do anything about that, save for sulking to his sister? That guy?” There's a challenge in his voice.

I slid down to the stool. I can't defend Phil against the truth so I drink my coffee silently after saying, “Yep. Him.”

Jake shakes his head. “All I am asking you is to be a little careful. I know you are smart and can get out of situations perhaps even I wouldn't be able to.” My shoulders rise. His words can make me feel absolutely weak and then inevitable all of a sudden. “But that doesn't mean you can be careless.”

I don't look at him as I drink my coffee, staring at the wall. “I think you shouldn't care.”

He nods. “And I think it's cruel of you,” our eyes meet, “To pretend not to know why I care.”

I tear my gaze off him. “I’ve moved on. I need to pretend that you have too.”

I can feel his gaze on me, pleading silently for me to look at him. I cannot. “You haven't moved on. You're trying to move on and evidently, you are doing an awful job.” He says, his patience little by little vanishing.

I look at him, then. “What do you mean, evidently?” I query, ignoring everything else he said. He turns away and reaches out for something from the opposite kitchen counter. Turning back, he hands me my phone.

The screen shows our chat. Two recent messages marked read. Two recent messages that I sent while I was drunk and it's clear that I was drunk. God, so many spelling errors on top of no punctuation. And I thought solving a case through texts would make me a pro at texting. I threatened him to sleep with any guy? What is wrong with me?

I shrug. “I don't talk like this. This must have been–”

He cuts me off. “Phil? Save it. The drunk you have already tried it. Not to mention, she was more like you than you are now. Honest and bold. She wasn't the one who'd not have enough courage to look someone in the eye.” His voice lowers with every word.

Mortification riles me up from the chair. “Alright. Thanks for the coffee and the lecture I didn't pay for. I’ll be leaving now.” I lay the cup on the island and turn away.

“You talk a lot when you're drunk.” He says, making me halt midway. All the stupid things I could have said wander around my head. The reason I got drunk in the first place is the most plausible one. Shit shit shit—

As I slowly turn sound, I find that Jake has left the kitchen and is now heading towards the stairs, unaffected by my declaration that I'm leaving. Motherfucker knows I'd follow him.

I rush towards him as he climbs the first step. “What did I say?” I ask, firmly.

“Weren’t you leaving?” He banters while continuing to climb the stairs. I do the same, only a step behind him.

“Jake, come on, we are not five years old. Tell me what I said.” I bark.

He barely acts threatened by my acidified voice. “What part? When you were babbling not knowing I was standing two steps away or the long one in the car? To me, they were both equally enjoyable.”

oh my god. I can't trust the drunk me talking to him directly, what shit would I have spitted when I didn't know he was around?

I glance up and he's already five steps away. I rush to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “Jake, I swear to god, tell me right now—”

He whirls around and I'm taken by surprise– ending with one foot on the same step as his and the other one step down. My hand on his shoulder slides down to his chest. “Or else? What will you do?” He challenges, his coffee-like eyes dart from one eye to the other in a mischievous manner. He knows if he presents anything like a challenge, I'd take it.

My back is against the wall and if he takes half a step, I'd pressed between them. “Or, or,” the closeness makes me stutter. Or maybe it's the fact that he's not nervous at all. Or he's just hiding it well. I can't lose to him because of closeness. That's some excuse Thomas would pull.

“I’m listening.”

I gain my posture back, straight my spine but still need to look up to meet his eyes. “Or I’ll go to your room, sleep in that bed and come out when Lilly’s awake and before I’d even begin to explain, she’d go around telling everyone that we slept together.”

Jake has such an infuriating gaze then I can neither look at him nor look away. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

I really need to keep my fantasies away from my threats. “No. I guess I'm still a little drunk. So please, tell me what I said?” I try softening my voice, looking at him rather than glaring.

He blinks and looks away. “I think you know what you said. That's why you are so desperate to confirm it, that you are standing on my foot.”

I peek down. I am actually standing on his foot. I pull my feet back but end up losing my balance. The hand on Jake’s chest fists his black t-shirt. His hand wraps around my waist holding me in place. I gain my balance back and my face ends up too close to his.

His body is pressed against mine though there's still some sane distance between our heads. I gulp down the urges surfacing all of a sudden. The ones I locked away for weeks. The air is thick with ache and yearning. Our collective wants.

He glances at my lips then back at my eyes. “You said that I forced you to drink because I didn't try to contact you after you rejected me. You said you can't stop thinking about me. And when I was getting you out of the car, you said you wanted to kiss me.”

“Did I?” I foolishly ask, looking at his lips.

“Yes.” He breathes out, nearing me. His grip on my waist tightens.

“And did you do it?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Of course, not.” He answers in a beat.

“Because I was drunk.” I say the reason out loud, leaning in.

He inhales and agrees. “Because you were drunk.”

“Which I am not anymore.” I lean in, merely an inch away from his lips. I don't think either of us is looking anywhere but each other's lips. I don't know if it's yearning for each other or the fact that we have spent almost a month thinking about us, that we no longer waste any time thinking. All thoughts weigh no importance anymore. It's clear what we want.

“Say it.” He whispers, his lips grazing against mine.

I don't. I let the weeks of frustration, guilt, longing release out as our lips touch. There's no point being gentle and slow. I know he knows it and he's acting upon it. I'm pressed against the wall, as his other hand caresses the side of my neck. I fist his t-shirt in my hand again, as the other hand wanders in his hair.

His tongue skims over my lower lip as he arches my neck up. I open my mouth, letting him enjoy my submissive side for a moment. Then, I bit his lip, smiling between the kisses. I can feel his smirk. The hand on my waist slides under my top and pinches my side. I wriggle in his hold.

I pull his hair harder but that only encourages him to kiss me faster. He grabs my hand on his chest and pins it against the wall, slowly sliding it above my head.

We break through only when we hear a door opening. We are both out of breath as we stare at each other, knowing the only wall between us: my decision to move on, has been burned down.

“Get drunk more often. It's always fun listening to you complain about me.” He smiles.

I bite back a smile but I think I'm terribly failing.. “Didn’t I need to be more careful?”

“When I’m around, you can put your guard down.” He affirms.

“That’s sweet but I really need to leave now.” I partly turn and take a step down only for him to wrap his hands around my waist to stop me.

“Yeah, that's not happening.” He says, leading me up the stairs again.

Yeah, that's not happening any time soon.

—The End—

#duskwood #duskwood fanfic #jake_duskwood #duskwood fandom #duskwood jake x mc #writing #jessy_duskwood #duskwood fanfiction #dan duskwood #jake x mc #jake duskwood #mc x jake #jake x reader #duskwood everbyte #duskwood jessy

[ikeromantic]

Ikevamp Boys React to a Tattooed MC pt 3

Arthur, Jean, Isaac, Dazai, and Will!

Arthur

"What's this, luv?" Arthur's voice breaks the silence in the parlor as you take down the curtains for washing.

You turn, amused to see his playful grin, but anxious too. He is unpredictable and always such a flirt. "What's what?"

Arthur chuckles, reaching for you. His hands brush your hair aside and tug down the back of your collar. "This. I knew I saw a hint of something."

"Hey! I didn't give you permission to just go -"

"There's a little heart. With wings!" His fingers brush the tattoo on your upper back. "I had no idea you were such a naughty girl, hm?"

"Arthur. I am not naughty. Let go of me?" You don't want him to notice how your pulse races at the touch, or the delighted shiver it sends through you.

He reluctantly releases you, merriment dancing in his eyes. "So how and why did you become a tattooed woman? Please tell me there's some juicy story involving a carnival and too much whisky?"

You roll your eyes. "Absolutely not on both counts. Look -" You clear your throat. "In my time, it's not unusual. Lots of people get them. I got mine after a bad breakup. To symbolize my faith in true love. Because I know it's out there, even if I haven't found it yet."

Arthur grins. "Haven't you? I mean, you do live in the same house as the most desireable-"

"Shut. Up." You let out a sigh, realizing the mansion's playboy writer is not going to take anything seriously. "And go away. I have work to do." You turn back to the curtains, trying to give him a hint.

"Oh, but I can't!" He hugs you from behind, his cheek pressed against yours. "I have to see the whole thing without all those pesky clothes in the way. And oh!" His hands slide up your side, sending a delicious warmth rolling through you. "What if there are more? I need to see all of you, luv. Inspect every inch."

Jean

You take a tumble while helping Jean at his sword shop, and cut your leg. He insists on bandaging you up, and despite your misgivings (does he know how to apply a bandage??), you let him.

As he slides your dress up to see the cut on your leg, he gasps. You realize he must have noticed the tattoo on your thigh. The equal-armed cross done in a delicate, colorful pattern, just for your eyes. Jean leans close, his breath warms your skin.

"Jean? The uh, the cut is a bit lower?" You try to redirect him.

"This mark -" He touches it, first with his fingers then with his palm pressed against your skin. "Where did you get it?"

You take a breath, trying to sort your thoughts with the distraction of his rough palm on your upper thigh. He has absolutely no right to make you feel this way, not when he's completely unaware of your reaction. You want him to let go, and you don't want him to all at once.

"In my country. Why?"

He lets go of you then, a relief and a let-down. Then he tugs down his own shirt to show his shoulder. The tiny cross there is so similar that you gasp. "I got mine after Orleans . . ."

"Well. I mean. It's not - not that unusual?" You feel uncomfortable at the intensity of his violet gaze.

"We are marked. Connected."

Your heart lurches in your chest, thudding against your ribcage. You don't know what to say, and can only nod.

Isaac

You aren't sure why Isaac draws back. You thought the two of you were about to have a moment, but his hot-and-cold behavior always keeps you on your toes. You never know if he wants you to stay or to go away.

"Can I ask you something," he says, his tone full of uncertainty.

"You just did." Your joke doesn't even raise a smile. "Sure. Anything."

"You shouldn't tell people they can ask you anything. They might really do." He sighs, frowns. "I - I noticed something on your arm?" He gestures.

That's when you realize your sleeve slid up enough to reveal the first letter in the words on your forearm. "Oh. Yeah. I have a little quote there." You put your hand over it, remembering the day you got it.

"Why?" His petal-pink eyes are wide and curious, a hint of worry in them.

You shrug, uncomfortable with the attention. "I don't know. I guess . . . I wanted to remember. The quote and what it means to me. Does it bother you?"

He shakes his head after an awkward pause. "No. But. Would you tell me about it?"

His response sends a shooting warmth through your chest and you nod. "Yeah -" The two of you scoot closer as you show him the tattoo, and the story behind it.

Dazai

"Toshiko-san! What's this?" Dazai's teasing voice comes from the window to your room.

You jump in surprise. Afterall, you're on the second floor. "I'm not even going to ask why you're coming in through my window," you sigh.

"Good. Less to explain. Now -" He climbs over the sill and plops down on your floor. "What is that I see on your foot?"

"This?" You show him the tattoo on top of your foot, where SpongeBob and Patrick grin under a cartoon sun. "It's from a TV show I liked."

He grabs your foot, a wide smile on his face. "Tee-vee? Hm. And here I was, thinking my lovely Toshiko-san was secretly mafia."

Will

"I have a query for thee," Will's chin nestled on your shoulder, his hands around your waist. "Pray tell, what is this painted upon thy delicate canvas?" He reached with one hand to stroke your shoulder blade, where your sun-and-moon tattoo was inked.

You shrug, drowsy and not in the mood to explain.

Will nips your neck, sharp teeth grazing your skin lightly. "Thou must answer lest I am forced to request more forcefully. I want to hear the tale."

Awake now, a tremble of anticipation running through your body, you turn in his grasp, or try to.

He laughs and holds you in place. "Ah ah. Release shall not come until you give me what I seek."

You surrender, mostly because it feels good to be snuggled in his arms. "I got them in college. I was thinking about the duality of nature - how nothing is as simple as it looks and . . . I don't know. I like the symbolism." It's hard to put into words but you try.

After a moment, he nods. "I see." He kisses your etched skin. "I wonder if I might spin a tragedy 'round a mark such as this. Though thine is more fair and deserves a better fate. Perhaps then, a comedy?"

Laughing, you finally turn to face him and place a kiss to his upturned lips. "You are impossible," you sigh."

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #IkeVamp arthur #ikevamp shakespeare #IkeVamp dazai #IkeVamp isaac #fanfiction #IkeVamp jean #fanfic #otome #otome guys #fluff

[canirove]

Erling Haaland Imagine | one

Author's note: Like happens with my Mbappé imagines, so far I’ve only shared my Haaland ones on Wattpad because that’s where I’ve been getting the requests, but since people are liking them so much, I thought about starting to share them here too 😊 The other day I posted some kind of masterlist with links to Wattpad, so some of you may have already read this, but I wanted to post it here for people who don’t have an account there, don’t want to open it, or just want to have these imagines archived somewhere. Hope you like it, and thank you for reading! 💜

Little summary: The request for this imagine was for something related to married life or a proposal and with a woman, so it is from a female pov.

Masterlist

"I am so cold. I swear I can't feel my toes."

"What? It wasn't that cold."

"Maybe not for you because you were running around and come from the North Pole. But I am not used to this, and was sitting on the stands doing nothing."

"You could always sit in the private area with the others."

"That's boring."

"Then don't complain about getting cold" Erling says, sticking out his tongue.

"Meh, meh, meh" I reply, rolling my eyes.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"To put on my pyjamas and the thickest socks I own. Maybe make myself a cup of tea."

"May I make it for you?"

"Aww, that's sweet."

"Anything for you, love" he says with a big smile.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Feeling better?" Erling asks me when I walk into the living room.

"Almost. Once I've had that cup of tea, I won't be feeling like a Frozen character anymore."

"You are such a drama queen" he laughs. "I still don't know how you survived when I took you home for Christmas."

"I survived because I was an onion."

"What?"

"Layers, Erling. I was wearing layers of clothing to not freeze to death, and onions have layers."

"Are you quoting Shrek?" he laughs again.

"Yes, I am. Can I go get that cup of tea now?"

"Of course, love" he says, taking a sip of his while trying not to laugh.

"Erling..." I call from the kitchen.

"Yeah?"

"What is this and where is my tea?"

"What?"

"This" I say when I walk back into the living room, showing him my mug. "What is this?"

"Your favourite mug. The one I got you on our first date."

"Yes, I know that. But what is this?" I ask again, moving the mug so he can see what is inside it.

"I don't know" he shrugs.

"You don't know?" I ask, arching a brow.

"Nope."

"So whatever this is, it just randomly ended up on my mug, when you said you were going to make us some tea?"

"I guess" he shrugs again.

"Erling..."

"Why don't you check what it is?"

"Fine" I say, rolling my eyes and turning around my mug. "What the... Erling?"

"That's my name, yes. You are gonna wear it out if you keep saying it" he chuckles.

"Can you please stop being an annoying little shit and tell me what is this?"

"A box?"

"Yes. A ring box. What does this mean?"

"I..."

"Please don't say "I don't know". If you do, I swear I will kill you."

"Ok" he laughs. "Why don't you open it and see what is inside?"

"I'm pretty sure I know what is inside."

"Or maybe not. Open it."

"Urgh" I say, doing as he says. Inside the box, instead of finding what I supposed I was going to find, there is a little paper. "What is this?"

"Open it. Maybe it says something interesting."

"Interesting, yeah" I mutter, my hands shaking a bit as I unfold it.

"Can you please read it aloud? I'm a very talented man, but I still can't read minds."

"Ok" I say, taking a deep breath. "To my dearest love. Thank you. Thank you for choosing me to be by your side despite being a little annoying shit like you always say. Thank you for letting me share my life with you. For letting me love you. For loving me. You make me the happiest and luckiest man in the world. Though there is something that would make me even happier. Look down. What?" I say, looking down.

"My love" Erling says. He's kneeling in front of me, a beautiful ring on his hand. How did he manage to get there without me noticing? I call him a little shit, but he is not little. "My love" he repeats. "Would you marry me and make me the happiest man in the whole wide world?"

"Are you being serious?" I chuckle.

"Never been more serious. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Even if I'm constantly complaining about being cold?"

"Even so."

"Ok."

"Ok what?"

"I will marry you, Erling."

"Thank God" he says.

"Thank God?" I laugh. "Thought I would say no?"

"Honestly... There was a part of me that thought you would, yes."

"Well, that part of you was wrong. Because I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"May I, then?" he says, finally smiling.

"You may" I reply, offering him my hand.

"Perfect" he says, getting up after putting the ring on my finger. "Do you like it?"

"I love it, it is beautiful. But I can't believe you just asked me to marry you while I'm wearing my pyjamas" I laugh.

"They are my favourite ones."

"Really? They are Disney pyjamas."

"And they also are super soft. I love cuddling with you when you wear them" he says, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me closer to him.

"I didn't know that."

"Now you do" he smiles. "And to be honest, it doesn't matter if you are wearing your pyjamas, jeans or a Dior dress. You always look and will look beautiful to me, future Mrs. Haaland."

"Thank you" I giggle. "But wait, what if I don't want to change my last name?"

"Then you don't" he shrugs. "As long as we are together, I don't care about anything else."

"Aww, cute" I say, putting my arms around his neck. "I love you, you little annoying shit"

"I love you too" he says before kissing me.

#erling haaland #erling haaland x reader #erling haaland imagine #football imagine #football fanfic

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

A Man's Worth

Tup x Fem!Reader

Chapter 3: Death in the Twilight

Summary: Your date-night with Tup is interrupted when your stalker finds you and won’t leave without you. Tup heroically comes to your defense, but is overpowered by the assailant and you are taken away. After your rescue, Tup struggles with his insecurities and self-worth as he tries to heal physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Pairing: Tup x Fem!Reader

Characters: Tup, Kix, Fives, Echo, Rex, Jesse, Hardcase, Dogma

Tags & Warnings: 18+, established relationship, domestic fluff, minor suggestive themes, stalking, kidnapping, violence, blood, major injuries, whump, trauma, angst, hurt/comfort, minor character death, self-worth, masculinity, depression, PTSD

Word Count: 6.6k

Author’s Note: This is probably the quickest I've ever updated a fic, but that's only because the chapter was already written. However, I did edit it so it connects better with the previous one. Beware, this chapter is pure angst. No fluffiness in sight! The next chapter will be a little slow to come out, since I haven't written it yet. Also, there may be a fifth chapter because I can't seem to stop. As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta Read: By the lovely @commander-sunshine!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

It’s cold, so very cold, and wet. Where did all this water come from? Tup wonders. He tries to move his body away from the cold and wet feeling, but none of his limbs obey his mental commands. Why can’t I move? The tips of his toes begin to tingle, and the odd sensation travels up his legs and torso, eventually spreading into every nook and cranny of his body, like water filling an empty vessel. The tingle turns into a throb, then an ache, and finally into a burning fire. 

He feels the weight of something crushing his chest and his breath is stolen. Why can’t I breathe? Where did my lungs go? He tries to open his mouth to scream for help, but it also won’t listen to his commands. Is he even in his body right now? He tries to remember where he is and why he’s there. It’s dark, pitch dark, and silent, like a stasis of being. An ominous and unnerving thought nags at the back of his mind, but it refuses to be caught into his consciousness. 

Suddenly, a bright light breaks through the darkness, but it looks cold. It doesn’t look like the light he imagined the call of death would resemble. Wait… Death? Am I dead? He tries to remember, but the picture in his mind is fractured like puzzle pieces dumped onto a floor. Parts of a whole scattered across a vast and never-ending expanse. His remaining thoughts are pierced by a loud noise. He wants to cover his ears from the ringing but he can’t. His eyes finally open.

The artificial lights are bright and his vision is blurry. The constant beeping sound stabs into his skull. His head is swirling as his mind fails to comprehend where he is. It’s too bright. It’s too loud. He attempts to take a breath, but he can’t. He tries to move his hands, but he can’t. He tries to speak, but he can’t. Panic sets in and the beeping sound becomes louder and faster, pounding further and deeper into his head. All he wants is for someone to make it stop.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a muffled and calm voice breaks through his panicked haze. “Easy vod’ika. Udesii. Calm down.” 

Tup’s mind is a swirling mess of confusion and incoherent thoughts. He can’t place the voice, and he doesn’t care who it belongs to as long as they make the noise stop. He needs help. He needs the voice to help him. His body won’t move and his lungs won’t work. I can’t breathe. Why can’t I move my legs? Why can’t I move my arms? Tup struggles weakly against his confines, desperately attempting to move something, anything, but a set of firm hands stops him. 

“Tup,” the muffled voice becomes clearer and is more stern than before. The figure stands over him, blocking out the bright lights overhead, while waving a hand across his vision. “Look at me.”

Tup blinks to try and clear away his blurry vision. He sees the dark outline of a face, but he can’t make out who it belongs to. He feels something odd, then his stomach lurches and he stifles a cough against his teeth as he feels a long tube being pulled out of the inside of his body and neck. The feeling is startling and uncomfortable, but nothing he can’t handle. He tries to take a deep breath now, but he can’t. Why can’t he breathe? Why won’t the blurry man let him breathe?

“Tup, breathe through your nose,” the soothing voice commands. “Focus on breathing through your nose.”

Tup blinks harder and the picture becomes clear. It’s Kix. He wonders what Kix is doing here. He tries to ask him, but he can’t open his mouth. Why can’t he open his mouth? The new realization sets in. He can’t open his mouth, which is why he can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. A fresh wave of panic washes over him and that incessant beeping noise gets louder and faster again. The beeping matches the rhythm of his heart and it pounds into his head like a stake.

“You’re giving me no choice,” Kix sighs as he grabs a small syringe off the counter. “I need you to calm down and breathe through your nose.” He takes the syringe and injects the contents into the IV attached to Tup’s neck.  

Tup feels a rush of warm liquid travel to the ends of his extremities. He sees stars and his body lightens as he becomes a little drowsy. His heartbeat begins to slow and the beeping of the heart monitor follows the new rhythm. As his nerves settle, he starts breathing disjointedly through his nose. Kix looks in his eyes and breathes with him, trying to have him match his rhythm. A slow inhale and a slow exhale, over and over again, until Tup is breathing at his own pace.

“That’s it,” Kix praises softly. “You’re doing great.”

As his body falls deeper and deeper into a relaxed state, Tup tries to ask Kix what’s going on, but he still can’t open his mouth. His eyes grow wide, but his body won’t let him fall into another panic episode. He eyes Kix and tries to communicate that he can’t open his mouth, but Kix doesn’t catch on to his attempts at telepathy. Instead, Kix sits in the chair next to the hospital bed, throws his head back, and sighs in relief. Tup is confused at his actions and waits for him to speak.

Kix picks his head back up and leans toward the bed. “Thank the Maker, you're finally awake.”

Tup furrows his brow in confusion, the only body part he can seem to move at the moment.

“You gave us quite the scare,” Kix chuckles lightheartedly.

Tup doesn’t know what Kix is talking about.

“You didn’t wake up after your surgery,” Kix explains as he leans back in the chair and rubs his forehead. “And to be honest, we weren’t sure if you would wake up at all. It’s been Five rotations.”

Tup’s eyes widen with the startling news, but the pieces of his memory are still scattered.

“You have multiple fractures in both legs, your left arm, several cracked ribs, internal bleeding, a skull fracture, and a broken jaw,” Kix continues to explain. “We were able to reconnect most of the broken pieces during surgery and repair the internal bleeds.” 

Tup’s breathing quickens at the laundry list of injuries he’s unsure how he got.

“I had to wire your jaw shut too,” Kix notes as he realizes he should have mentioned that piece of information first since he’s been talking to himself for the entirety of the conversation. “Which is why you can’t open your mouth and need to breathe through your nose. I also had to intubate you using a trach in your throat because you stopped breathing eight times, but I removed that when you woke up.”

Tup’s mind goes numb with all the information. Some pieces are clicking back together as he now understands why he can’t speak or why he had so much trouble breathing. He still doesn’t remember how he received such severe injuries that warranted this much medical intervention. As he studies Kix’s face for more answers, he can see the dark circles under his eyes and his hair threatening to cover the tattoo on the side of his head. He looks burnt out and exhausted.

“Also, you’re in traction,” Kix adds as he rubs the back of his neck. “Basically, you’re immobile. Well, except for your head and your right hand, but I restrained both just in case you had an intense reaction when you woke up. Glad I did too. I didn’t need you pulling your breathing tube out.”

Tup stares into Kix’s eyes, trying to communicate all his observations and questions to him, but has no luck.

Kix can see the searching look in Tup’s eyes as they dart around. He cocks his head to the side at the obvious dilemma and thinks for a moment. “If I remove the restraints,” Kix begins with hesitation, “will you promise not to do anything stupid? Blink twice for yes or once for no.”

Tup blinks twice in response. What could he possibly do with one hand?

Kix walks around to the other side of the medical bed and undoes the restraint holding Tup’s right hand securely to the rail. Tup slowly moves his arm, rolls his wrist, and expands and contracts his fingers to gauge their function. Kix then removes the strap holding his head in place and eyes Tup suspiciously for a moment. Once he’s satisfied with his patient's calm demeanor, he places a data-pad down next to his free hand. “Type what you want to ask me,” Kix says.

Tup carefully turns his head to the side to look at the data-pad and taps on the letters slowly with his fingers. The data-pad, like most, has a text to voice feature, so after he types the words, the built-in voice reads them to Kix.

What happened?

“You don’t remember?” Kix asks with a raised eyebrow.

No.

“Great,” Kix sighs as he grabs his own data-pad with Tup’s medical chart pulled up. He scrolls through some information and makes a few notes. “I’ll add concussion to the list.”

What happened?

“Based on the holo-recording Fox gave us,” Kix begins to explain in a serious tone, not bothering to look up from his data-pad. “You picked a fight with a clone serial killer and miraculously survived.”

Tup knits his brows in confusion as he tries to remember the events, but everything is fuzzy.

Show me.

Kix looks up from his data-pad and frowns. “That’s not a good idea.”

Tup slaps his hand down on the data-pad, his only way of showing emotion. He wants to see it. He wants to see what happened because he can’t remember any of it. He knows he’s forgetting something important and it’s clawing at the back of his mind like an animal trying to escape a cage. He tries to think back to the events that led him here, but the fog is too thick to see through. He gets glimpses, flashes of light, pricks of pain, and sounds that drift along like strangled chords. 

Kix crosses his arms and weighs the pros and cons. On one hand the footage could jog his memory, but it’s also disturbing, and watching himself get brutally beaten could put Tup in a state of panic. Kix grumbles to himself but gives in. If things go south, he can always sedate him. Kix swipes through his data-pad and pulls up the footage the Corrie Guard sent over the night they found Tup. He hesitates, but holds the data-pad up for Tup to see and presses play. 

Tup watches as the silent recording starts out with an empty alley. As the holo-cam footage rolls further, he sees himself come into view with a woman behind him. A woman? Who is she? The heart monitor starts beeping faster as his thoughts start reeling, trying desperately to remember. Something is coming back to him, but it’s still too vague to connect, like an extension cord that’s too short. If only he had more length. Kix looks up at the monitor and back down at Tup’s face. 

His breathing quickens through his nose as he watches himself fight the monstrosity of man in the footage. Then it happens, his fist gets caught. He feels a twinge in his left hand. He may not remember, but his body does. His body remembers all of it. He continues to watch as his limbs are snapped in half and the woman in the footage cowers against the alley. It’s there. It’s on the tip of his tongue. If he could vomit it out, he would. The name. The name of the woman. 

A shooting pain strikes like lightning across the back of Tup’s head. He brings his right hand up to touch it out of reflex, but Kix grabs it before it can make contact. Tup looks up at Kix and Kix shakes his head as a warning. Tup’s face scrunches at the shooting pain. He wants to yell, but the most he can do is grunt incoherently through his wired jaw. The pain is excruciating. He wants to keep watching to see what happens to the woman, but Kix pulls it away before it ends.

“That’s enough for now,” Kix says. He rummages through a drawer and pulls out a small vial and a new syringe. “This will help with the pain.” Kix pushes the medicine through the IV and sits back in the chair with his data-pad on his lap.

After a few seconds, Tup starts to feel relief from the stabbing pain in his head and relaxes again. He flips the holo-footage through his mind like pages in a book, roving over them as he tries to understand the whole picture. Little pieces begin to creep back into his mind. Pain. So much pain. The sound of his own screaming resounds in his mind like an alarm bell. Then a face. A face that’s very important to him. A face that he’s desperately trying to remember.

“You’ll be happy to know that he’s been eliminated,” Kix says with a reassuring smile. Tup is pulled from his wandering thoughts. “And she’s safe.”

Tup scrunches his brows together and forces his brain to think. She. Who is she? He closes his eyes and tries to remember, searching the recesses of his mind. Then he hears it. The sound of your voice, broken and terrified. A sound he thought he could never forget, but he did. He forgot about you. The memories of your life together flood into his mind like a broken dam. The sound of you crying and the sound of you begging that monster to let him go, it churns his stomach.  

It’s all backwards. He was supposed to protect you, but ultimately, you protected him. This isn’t right. None of it. What is wrong with him? Why couldn’t he take him? Why couldn’t he protect you? What kind of soldier does that make him? What kind of a man does that make him? The destructive thoughts infect his mind, taking root in every corner of his psyche, smashing his pride and crushing his ego into little tiny pieces of worthless dust. A failure, that’s what he is.

Kix watches and waits for Tup to respond to the good news, but he doesn’t. The lack of response concerns Kix for a moment, but perhaps the pain medicine was a little much for his system and he didn’t hear him the first time. “He’s dead and she’s safe,” Kix repeats a little louder.

How?

Kix finds the first question odd, but he rolls with it. “Fives, Echo, and Jesse went on a manhunt, killed him, and rescued her,” Kix begins to explain.

Tup rolls his eyes, and Kix takes notice. Of course someone else had to save his girlfriend, Arc troopers no less. The strongest and bravest of all the clones. Tup scoffs at himself in his mind, thinking about his pathetic attempt at protecting you and then failing in the most horrific way possible. Not only did his girlfriend have to bribe the offender to let him go, but he can’t even get the satisfaction of killing the scum himself. It’s humiliating, another man finishing his fight and saving his woman.

“Even with the three of them in full kit, it wasn’t easy to take him down,” Kix explains further. He realizes that something isn’t right with Tup’s reaction. He can’t fully place it, but he has a hunch, and it has him worried. “According to Fives, he took a blaster shot to the chest and kept moving. I’m still baffled how you went up against this guy alone and survived with no protection.”

Luck.

Kix chuckles half-heartedly at the short answer. “Must be.”

Who was he?

Kix pauses and wonders where this line of question is leading. “They ran him through facial recognition and it turns out he was known as the Clone Killer,” Kix explains with a shocked expression. “He was wanted in several planetary systems for killing at least fifty clones, but he’s dead now. Fives made sure of that.”

Tup huffs through his nose and Kix furrows his brows. Of course it was Fives. He doesn’t want to hear about the ARC trooper’s heroic rescue of his girlfriend or how Fives killed the man responsible. They’re probably already dating each other at this point if he’s been unconscious for five rotations. He doesn’t blame her. He wouldn’t want to be with him either, seeing as he’s so useless. She’s better off with an ARC trooper protecting her. She’s better off without him.

“She’s here if you want to see her,” Kix mentions with a smile in an attempt to cheer him up and bring the conversation back to being about you.

No.

“No?” Kix questions. Now he’s really confused and concerned about what’s going on in Tup’s brain. “What do you mean, no?”

No.

“You do remember who she is, right?” Kix asks, double checking that the concussion didn’t wipe out all of his memories.

Yes.

“Then why don’t you want to see her?” Kix continues, still shocked by Tup’s apathetic responses.

Tup doesn’t answer, but instead looks away from Kix. He doesn’t want his brother to see the humiliation and embarrassment growing on his face. He doesn’t have to explain his reasoning. He doesn’t have to share his deepest fears or his radical insecurities that all of a sudden moved in and kicked his old confident self out. This is his problem, his fight, and his battle. His other fight was stolen from him, so this one he’s going to keep all to himself and wage on his own.

Kix raises an eyebrow and studies Tup for a moment, his hunch becoming more and more apparent at the silent treatment he’s receiving. “Oh, I see,” Kix says knowingly while crossing his arms. “Your pride got hurt, didn’t it? Because you couldn’t save your girlfriend and someone else did.”

Tup turns his head and glares at Kix as he sees right through him. Kix’s intuition and blatant disregard for his privacy makes him angry. His reasons are none of Kix’s business. How dare he say it out loud with such disdain in his voice, mocking him as he lies helpless in a hospital bed. He didn’t ask to be saved and he didn’t ask for Kix to psychoanalyze his private thoughts. This whole situation is ridiculous, meaningless, and he wants to be left alone.

“I don’t see what you’re so upset about,” Kix says in bewilderment. “You walked away from this with your life. You could’ve died.”

Should have.

Kix rubs his hand across his mouth and huffs in disbelief. He gets up from his chair, walks to the side of the bed, and lowers his face down to be eye to eye with Tup. “You listen to me and you listen well,” Kix begins with a stern voice. “I didn’t save your life so you could lie here and brood about your fragile masculinity. I don’t care about your feelings and I don’t care about your pride or your dignity or your ego. I only care that your heart keeps beating and your lungs keep breathing. So suck it up trooper.”

Tup scrunches his face into the best sneer he can make in response to Kix’s fiery words.

“So, that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” Kix says as he straightens up and shakes his head. “Well, I’ll let everyone know you’re awake and that you don’t want any visitors. Rex and the others have only been sitting in that waiting room for five rotations waiting for you to wake up, but by all means, wallow here alone in your own self-pity.”

Kix turns to leave and Tup throws the data-pad at his back. It hits without much force and clatters against the tiled floor. 

Kix takes a deep breath, whips around, and glares back at Tup in anger. “I swear, if you weren’t already broken, I’d break you myself!”

Kix grabs the data-pad off the floor and lays it on the counter. He then leaves the room, slams the door behind him, and leans his back against it. He sighs and brings his hands up to rub his face. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy, traumatic injuries never are, but he wasn’t expecting this type of reaction, and definitely not to this severity level. If this is any indication of how the rest of the recovery will be, it’s going to be a hard-fought and bumpy road for everyone.

Kix thinks about his options and decides the next best course of action is to let everyone know Tup’s awake and alert. He meanders his way through the sterile hallways, medics and orderlies rushing past him as he thinks about how to explain Tup’s condition. He can use all his medical knowledge and verbiage to make it sound less impactful, or he can just come out and say it and wait for the shock factor to wear off, like ripping a bandaid off.

He rounds the corner to the waiting room, pauses, and takes a step back into the corridor. He smiles fondly. A sea of white and blue all tangled together with you at the center. You’re sitting sideways in one of the waiting room chairs, head leaning against Rex’s shoulder with your legs outstretched on Jesse’s lap. Jesse, Echo, and Fives are leaning against each other, while Hardcase and Dogma are leaning peacefully against Rex.  

The image is almost too pure to disturb so he pulls out his data-pad to snap a holo-photo of the moment. Maybe showing it to Tup will help him understand how valued and loved he truly is. Kix looks at the holo-photo and smiles. They may be clones, and viewed as a subhuman species to most, but their bond as brothers is the strongest force in the universe. No one messes with one of their brothers and gets away with it. If no one else will protect them, they must do it themselves.

Kix sighs and braces himself to deliver the news. He walks into the waiting room, approaches Rex, and gently rouses him from his sleep. Rex blinks and straightens himself up to stretch his shoulders, which starts a cascading effect of waking the others around him. You stir as your head dips from Rex moving his shoulder, which causes you to kick Jesse and wake him. One by one, each trooper stirs from their slumber and stretches out their cramped bodies.

“What’s the news?” Rex sleepily asks as he rubs his face.

“Do you want the good news or the bad news first?” Kix asks in return.

You startle at the idea of bad news, but Kix stretches out his hand to assure you that the bad news isn’t terrible news. You still wonder what kind of bad news you’re up against. Ever since you were taken, your only reality was that Tup was dead, but after your rescue, you had hope that he was going to survive. “What’s the good news?” you ask, thinking that it will help you get through whatever bad news may come next.

“Tup is awake, alert, and he doesn’t seem to have any permanent brain damage,” Kix answers.

Several sighs of relief and ‘thank the Maker’ erupt from the group. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding in as tears fall from your eyes. Rex rubs your back for reassurance and comfort. Every day of waiting with no answers was painful as you desperately wished for Tup to wake up. There were no guarantees that he would or that if he did wake up, he wouldn’t be catatonic or brain dead. To hear that he’s awake and alert is the greatest news you could ask for.

You look up at Kix and mouth ‘thank you’ to him as the words can barely escape your mouth through the rolling tears of joy. Kix wants to smile, but the other half of his news won’t let him. He doesn’t want to destroy your little bit of joy by sharing about Tup’s spiraling mental health, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. That’s the double-edged sword of being a medic. He has to deliver good news and bad news. He can’t pick and choose which one to give.

“What’s the bad news?” Rex asks cautiously, a twinge of nervousness in his voice. 

Kix rubs the back of his neck and tries to formulate his words carefully. “Tup,” Kix begins, but then pauses again before continuing. “Physically, his recovery is progressing as well as expected, but mentally…” Kix trails off as he thinks about his words. “Traumatic events like this one can alter a person’s psychological state, so mentally…” Kix pauses again, struggling for the first time to get words out. “Mentally he’s not doing well.”

“What do you mean, mentally?” you ask in concern. “He’s okay, isn’t he?”

“Well, yes and no,” Kix answers in hesitation as his tone goes high and low with the words. “He’s struggling with his self-worth.”

“Self-worth?” you repeat in confusion. “I don’t understand.” 

“Spit it out, Kix,” Rex demands.

Kix sighs and puts all his cards down on the table. “He’s angry at himself about what happened and doesn’t think he deserves to live.”

“What?!” you retort in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous! Of course he deserves to live!”

“Not according to him,” Kix breathes out as he rubs his forehead.

“Can I see him?” you ask, determined to knock some sense into your boyfriend.

Kix frowns. “He doesn’t want any visitors.”

“He doesn’t want to see me?” you repeat quietly with disappointment as your eyes threaten to release more tears.

“Wait a minute, hold on, back up,” Fives interjects, astonishment dripping from his words. “We went through absolute hell to save him and her, and kill the man responsible, and he doesn’t want to see us?!”

“Like I said,” Kix starts calmly. “His mental state is extremely unstable.”

“That doesn’t sound like Tup,” you whisper as you think back to your happy-go-lucky boyfriend and his playful demeanor.

“This type of mental shift isn’t uncommon for trauma survivors,” Kix explains, trying to sound as compassionate and realistic as possible. “It changes people. He may not be the same man you remember, and he may never be that man again.”

The room goes quiet as somber thoughts float around like dandelion seeds caught in a breeze. No one can imagine a different Tup than the one they know so well. He’s always been bright, cheery, playful, and a bit of a tease to his batchmate Dogma. The idea that the Tup they know could be gone forever is a hard pill to swallow, especially for you. To think that your happy life was ripped away in one night is almost too much to bear. 

“I want to see him,” you assert as you stand up from your chair.

“That’s not a good idea,” Kix warns while shaking his head.

“I don’t care,” you argue, your emotions cracking through your voice. “I need to hear it from him.”

“We’ll go with you,” Echo adds as he stands up and gestures to Fives and Jesse.

“That’s definitely not a good idea,” Kix emphasizes while putting up both hands. 

“Are you going to try and stop me?” you ask as you take a few steps towards Kix and look him in the eyes.

Kix tries to look away, but your conviction catches his gaze. He sighs. “I can’t stop you if you’re determined. I can only strongly advise against it.”

You nod that you understand the risks and are willing to take them.

“However,” Kix cautions, his voice turning serious. “His health is my top priority and I will remove you, any of you, if you aggravate his condition.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” you acknowledge, fully embracing the terms of the visitation. You look back towards Echo, Fives, and Jesse and they give you nods of agreement.

As much as the rest of the group wants to see Tup, they stay behind in the waiting room, content in knowing that their brother is awake and out of immediate danger. Rex gives you a reassuring pat on the shoulder and you return the gesture with the best smile you can form. You take a deep breath then follow Kix down the corridors, staring at your reflection in floor tiles as you stroll along. The three Arc troopers trail along behind you for the silent walk to Tup’s room.

You wonder what you’ll say to him. You’ve had some time to think about it since your rescue, the thoughts you want to express. Your gratitude, your fear, your love, your elation, all of it. You want to tell him everything and not spare any details. He’s in that hospital bed because of you after all, so it’s the least you can offer him. It should have been you, not him. You barely have a scratch on you, which only fuels your anger at yourself for Tup’s condition. He’s not worthless, not to you.

You finally reach his room and Kix stops in front of the door as he mentally prepares himself to walk inside. You decide to fortify yourself too. Kix said Tup’s not the same man as before, but you don’t know what that means. You don’t know what that looks like and you’re not entirely sure you want to know, but you need to know, even if it hurts. Even if he spits in your face and tells you to walk away, you need to know who he is now. You need to know how to love him where he’s at.

You take a deep breath as Kix opens the door and brace yourself. You haven’t seen him since you were in the alley. The last image you have of Tup is him hanging, bloody and lifeless from your stalker’s grip. Your breath quickens and your anxiety spikes as you step into the sterile hospital room. The heart monitor beeps steady and rhythmically, a good sign that he’s relaxed, and as you come around Kix, you finally get your first glimpse of Tup and it breaks your heart.

His entire body is wrapped in bandages, with limbs casted and suspended in the air using pins screwed into joints attached to wires that coil around pulleys. Several IV bags hang on a nearby pole with different fluids dripping through the catheter into his neck. What can be seen of his face is bruised and swollen from his dislocated jaw. The setup looks archaic and almost barbaric, like a scene out of horror holo-film, but it must be necessary if this is what Kix decided. 

You cautiously step closer to the bed, with Jesse, Fives, and Echo hanging back alongside Kix to give you a little privacy. You told yourself you wouldn’t cry, that you would be strong for him, but looking at his immobilized body and listening to the beeping monitors threatens to break your resolve. You look back at Kix for reassurance, and he gives you an affirming nod. You walk around to the other side of the bed, to where Tup’s hand is free, and gently place yours atop his.

Tup startles at the sudden touch and you flinch in response to his jerk, but you don’t remove your hand. You brush your thumb along the back of his knuckles in a soothing manner. He slowly turns his head to see who’s touching him and to his surprise, it’s you, smiling down at him with those beautiful eyes he instantly and intimately recognizes. For a moment his heart leaps knowing that you’re alright, that you’re safe, but he lets the feeling fade into his abyss of despair.

“Hey,” you say softly when you notice his eyes are on you. You almost lose your composure with just one word.

He doesn’t answer.

“Oh, yeah,” Kix says under his breath as he realizes Tup can’t communicate. Kix grabs the data-pad off the counter and brings it over to you. “You’ll need this if you want to talk to him.”

Tup glares at Kix for ignoring his wishes. Kix glares back. “Keep it on the bed this time.”

“Thanks,” you say as you grab the data-pad from him. You set it down next to Tup’s hand and wait eagerly for his response.

Leave.

Your heart sinks at the cold solitary word. “What?” you ask in confusion. The first thing he tells you when you finally get to see each other again, is ‘leave’? That can’t be right. Maybe he misspelled ‘love’. That must be it. There’s no reason for him to make you leave, not when you haven’t had a chance to tell him how happy you are to see him alive. You chuckle playfully. “I can’t leave. I just got here.”

Leave.

“Tup,” you say as your smile turns into a worried frown. You search his amber eyes, pleading for him to tell you more. “I’ve missed you.” You put your hand back on top of his and he pulls away from your touch. 

Leave.

You hold back your tears as you realize Kix is telling the truth. This isn’t the Tup you remember. This isn’t the Tup that you went on dates with, laughed with, baked with, or made love with. This Tup you don’t know. It isn’t just the endless amounts of bandages or pain medication. No. His cold gaze and lifeless demeanor; this isn’t the same man that you held hands with five rotations ago. “Tup, please,” you plead with a strained voice. “Talk to me.”

Tup averts his gaze and moves his head to look at the other side of the room, and that’s when he sees them. The real heroes. The real clones. The real men. The men that did what he couldn’t. The men who protected you and saved you from your attacker. It’s like a fairytale dream where the princess is saved from the evil monster by the handsome prince, except it’s not him. He didn’t even get a chance to audition for the lead role in his own story and it broke him.

“Tup,” you call to him, hoping to get his attention back on you.

He wishes you would stop saying his name. It sounds disgusting and he doesn’t want your forced pity. It’s embarrassing enough to have you standing there, gawking at his broken body, but to hear you say his name with such sympathy is demeaning. The more he thinks about it the more his anger builds. Anger at himself, anger at you, and anger at the ARC troopers who had the gall to stand in his hospital room and gloat about their triumphant victory. It makes him sick.

Get out.

You finally let your tears fall as your heart shatters into a million pieces. He really doesn’t want to see you, but that’s what you wanted right? To hear it from him? To prove Kix wrong, thinking that you knew Tup enough that he would get one good look at you and he would somehow go back to normal? And now you have your answer, but it isn’t the answer you wanted. It isn’t the answer you hoped for. The nightmare continues, rolling like a stone beaten by a river.

Unable to watch the emotionally depressing scene play out any longer, Fives decides to intervene and bring his two cents to the table. Kix tries to stop him, but Fives is a force to be reckoned with when he’s determined. He doesn’t understand Tup’s attitude at all. He was there at the scene of the crime. He saw his brother’s bones, felt his ripped flesh, and bathed in his blood. He watched the footage, he knows what happened, and it fueled his ravenous revenge. 

“Hey!” Fives says forcefully as he approaches Tup and gestures at your tear stained face. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re not supposed to make her cry!”

Not your business.

“All of this is my business,” Fives huffs and crosses his arms. “If it wasn’t for Echo and I, you’d be dead in that dumpster.”

Rather be. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Fives questions as he furrows his brows in confusion. “That’s a really strange way of saying thank you.”

For what?

Fives scoffs in disbelief and starts to wonder if Kix is right. “What do you mean ‘for what’? How about thanks for saving your sorry shebs!” Fives points at you. “And hers!”

Didn’t ask.

Fives’ jaw drops, completely baffled at Tup’s response. His anger builds as he remembers every moment of fear he and the others suffered as they waited and prayed to whatever deity would listen that their beloved little brother would wake up. After everything they did, after everything he did, to have Tup dismiss him like this, pains every part of his being. “Do you even know the levels of hell we’ve been through?!” Fives seethes. “Everything I did was for you!”

Usen’ye.

Fives’ blood boils as he narrows his eyes and scrunches his nose, losing the last bit of composure he had. “Why you little, ungrateful piece of–”

“I think that’s enough for today,” Echo interrupts as he stands between Fives and Tup. 

“But–” Fives protests.

“Leave it,” Echo interjects sternly. “He’s not himself, and we don’t need you to make things worse.”

Fives grunts in frustration and turns around to leave, bumping Jesse’s shoulder hard as he storms out of the room. Jesse looks at Kix in bewilderment and Kix just shakes his head and sighs. He tried to warn them, but they didn’t listen. Tup’s mental shift hurts him too, but he doesn’t have the time or the emotional capacity to process it like they do, not when he has to deal with it on a daily basis. It’s going to take time and the only thing any of them can do is wait.

Echo walks over to you and puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Why don’t we let him get some rest.”

Realizing there’s nothing more you can do, you nod your head in agreement. You offer Tup another smile, but he still won’t meet your eyes. “I love you,” you whisper in hopes your words will somehow get through to him, but they don’t. You slump your shoulders and turn away as tears prick the corner of your eyes. The Tup you once knew and loved is gone and it breaks your heart. 

Echo stays behind for a second and stares down at Tup. “You may be angry with him,” he begins calmly. “But you’ll never know what it was like to see Fives drenched in blood.”

Tup avoids Echo’s eyes, training them straight ahead and staring into nothingness. He doesn’t want to hear it, any of it. He doesn’t care what sob story they made up to condone their actions. It doesn’t matter to him. It hurts. It hurts more than anyone will ever know, more than he can ever express through a data-pad or spoken word. The pain in his heart is unbearable and the only way he can placate it is by shutting everyone out, because only then can no one hear him cry.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Masterlist

A03

Tag List: @nahoney22 @kixs-husband @commander-sunshine @sunshinesdaydream @padawancat97 @verndusk @starrrgazingbunny @coraex @lickylickylicky @homemade-clones @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @starrylothcat @moon-wrecked @ladyzirkonia @actuallybarb @sarcastic-nebula @arcsimper5 @spacemythic  @1vlouds

Join my taglist HERE

Tip me a tea on Ko-fi HERE

#tbbb writes #the clone wars fanfiction #clone wars fanfiction #tcw fanfiction #tup x fem!reader #tup x reader #tup x you #clone x you #clone x reader #clone trooper tup #tcw tup #tup #the clone wars fanfic #clone wars fanfic #tcw fanfic #the clone wars fic #clone wars fic #tcw fic #the clone wars #clone wars #tcw #star wars