Next Time, Try Knocking

Warnings: Kissing, flirting, sexual innuendos, humor, blowjobs, male receiving oral. Smut / fluff / mildly dubious consent but not really? Dry-humping, self-esteem issues, self-degradation, self-doubt, mild feelings of worthlessness and slight depression.

Word count: 4.8k+

Summary: Shriv Suurgav is overworked - he sits alone, or tries to, in his office. You’ve come to bother him, or better yet, help him find a way to relieve his stress. This “Duros under duress” must relax.

Notes: I write Shriv Suurgav entirely different from the way I write Cad Bane, so be prepared for a more “ stream of consciousness” type style. I love getting inside this neurotic Duros’ head. Inspired by me eating a lollipop on the way home from work. “A blowjob a day keeps the melancholy away.” - @amiquinn99​ 

Half a parsec. No. Maybe a whole parsec.

Two parsecs?

Perhaps a parsec was not the right unit of measurement to use in this situation, but Shriv absolutely felt that was how far away he was from finishing this list of menial tasks that was supposed to get done by the end of the day.

It was too much for just one day. Or any day. It was never ending; just a nearly insurmountable heap of red tape and bureaucracy, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Well, almost nothing.

He supposed he could launch himself out of an airlock, but death might be just a little bit worse than having to answer to Lando about this one particular report that was due two standard hours from now.

Who was keeping track of this stuff, anyway? Would they know if he hadn’t submitted it on time? Was Lando really that interested in learning about the finer points of the Pathfinder’s last ground assault? The fact the 61st mobile infantry had lost so many soldiers on Haidoral Prime that they were organizing a recruitment event to try and persuade locals to join their cause?

Not to mention the dangers of Imperial espionage – you never knew who was going to show up to these things. That’s why he stayed away from them. He was too skeptical – they said he would only hinder the process. It was fine by Shriv. He had better things to do.

Let them deal with the repercussions. They couldn’t say he hadn’t warned them.

Of course, the stress of those better things alone was enough to give anyone a stroke; but Shriv did what he did best in these scenarios: he sucked it up. Only today it wasn’t going so well. He had too much on his mind.

When did he not have too much on his mind?

Shriv couldn’t remember the last time his head was absent of thought, negative or otherwise, though negative seemed to be predominant. For a moment, Shriv felt like he had forgotten what it was like to relax, and that made him frown to himself because no one else was around to see it.

He was thankful no one else was around to see it.

For one, they might ask questions, and two, he wasn’t in the mood to explain his… mood.

He tried keeping up appearances with the cadets. They already thought he was a curmudgeon. They called him a killjoy behind his back.

He had heard about it second hand from Luke – he wanted Shriv to be nicer to the new blood, as he called them. He said he came off as “scary” and “mean,” and that he should be trying to instill a sense of camaraderie, giving inspirational speeches, not the opposite.

Shriv wasn’t trying to instill anything. He was just telling it like it is. If they couldn’t handle his authenticity, well …

Sooo sorry I don’t find fighting wars and nearly dying everyday to be the pinnacle of excitement. I apologize for warning them about the risks and dangers involved in going up against an evil, despotic Empire who rather kill them than use them as slave labor just for wearing this damn uniform.

That was what he had wanted to say. Instead, he said: “Yeah, sure, OK.”

Then he had coughed on purpose, followed by a terse: “Commander.”

The terseness had also been on purpose.

Oh, but Shriv wasn’t considered to be his equal even though he was not only a member of the Special Forces, but a Commander in the Alliance Navy, a Marksman, and a damn good pilot.

Far from it.

Luke Skywalker was a Jedi with magical force wieldy powers that could make people smack into walls, or he could slice them in half with his glowy laser sword-thing.

He won medals and made girls smile.

Shriv only made girls give disgusted faces.

He supposed he should be thankful he was on their side, not annoyed one bit that he had told him how to do his job he had been doing since before Luke had even bothered to show up.

Yeah, OK, so he had blown up a Death Star.

Even Shriv had to admit that was impressive, but he didn’t want to.

Besides, he had help, but everyone seemed to forget that little tidbit of information.

Han Solo didn’t forget that tidbit of information.

In fact, he talked about it daily.

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Here’s a lighthearted one-shot featuring my OC Estelle Carter with Harley Quinn and Adrian Chase. The main pairing is Harley/Estelle but with a dash of suggestion that eventually they’ll be a Harley/Estelle/Adrian pairing. 

Star Wars OC : Lexi Tamzin, human-zeltron thief and informant, living on Coruscant and temporary cooperate with Jango Fett 😈♀️🌆

Warnings: Kissing, flirting, sexual innuendos, humor, blowjobs, male receiving oral. Smut / fluff / mildly dubious consent but not really? Dry-humping, self-esteem issues, self-degradation, self-doubt, mild feelings of worthlessness and slight depression.

Word count: 4.8k+

Summary: Shriv Suurgav is overworked - he sits alone, or tries to, in his office. You’ve come to bother him, or better yet, help him find a way to relieve his stress. This “Duros under duress” must relax.

Notes: I write Shriv Suurgav entirely different from the way I write Cad Bane, so be prepared for a more “ stream of consciousness” type style. I love getting inside this neurotic Duros’ head. Inspired by me eating a lollipop on the way home from work. “A blowjob a day keeps the melancholy away.” - @amiquinn99​ 

Half a parsec. No. Maybe a whole parsec.

Two parsecs?

Perhaps a parsec was not the right unit of measurement to use in this situation, but Shriv absolutely felt that was how far away he was from finishing this list of menial tasks that was supposed to get done by the end of the day.

It was too much for just one day. Or any day. It was never ending; just a nearly insurmountable heap of red tape and bureaucracy, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Well, almost nothing.

He supposed he could launch himself out of an airlock, but death might be just a little bit worse than having to answer to Lando about this one particular report that was due two standard hours from now.

Who was keeping track of this stuff, anyway? Would they know if he hadn’t submitted it on time? Was Lando really that interested in learning about the finer points of the Pathfinder’s last ground assault? The fact the 61st mobile infantry had lost so many soldiers on Haidoral Prime that they were organizing a recruitment event to try and persuade locals to join their cause?

Not to mention the dangers of Imperial espionage – you never knew who was going to show up to these things. That’s why he stayed away from them. He was too skeptical – they said he would only hinder the process. It was fine by Shriv. He had better things to do.

Let them deal with the repercussions. They couldn’t say he hadn’t warned them.

Of course, the stress of those better things alone was enough to give anyone a stroke; but Shriv did what he did best in these scenarios: he sucked it up. Only today it wasn’t going so well. He had too much on his mind.

When did he not have too much on his mind?

Shriv couldn’t remember the last time his head was absent of thought, negative or otherwise, though negative seemed to be predominant. For a moment, Shriv felt like he had forgotten what it was like to relax, and that made him frown to himself because no one else was around to see it.

He was thankful no one else was around to see it.

For one, they might ask questions, and two, he wasn’t in the mood to explain his… mood.

He tried keeping up appearances with the cadets. They already thought he was a curmudgeon. They called him a killjoy behind his back.

He had heard about it second hand from Luke – he wanted Shriv to be nicer to the new blood, as he called them. He said he came off as “scary” and “mean,” and that he should be trying to instill a sense of camaraderie, giving inspirational speeches, not the opposite.

Shriv wasn’t trying to instill anything. He was just telling it like it is. If they couldn’t handle his authenticity, well …

Sooo sorry I don’t find fighting wars and nearly dying everyday to be the pinnacle of excitement. I apologize for warning them about the risks and dangers involved in going up against an evil, despotic Empire who rather kill them than use them as slave labor just for wearing this damn uniform.

That was what he had wanted to say. Instead, he said: “Yeah, sure, OK.”

Then he had coughed on purpose, followed by a terse: “Commander.”

The terseness had also been on purpose.

Oh, but Shriv wasn’t considered to be his equal even though he was not only a member of the Special Forces, but a Commander in the Alliance Navy, a Marksman, and a damn good pilot.

Far from it.

Luke Skywalker was a Jedi with magical force wieldy powers that could make people smack into walls, or he could slice them in half with his glowy laser sword-thing.

He won medals and made girls smile.

Shriv only made girls give disgusted faces.

He supposed he should be thankful he was on their side, not annoyed one bit that he had told him how to do his job he had been doing since before Luke had even bothered to show up.

Yeah, OK, so he had blown up a Death Star.

Even Shriv had to admit that was impressive, but he didn’t want to.

Besides, he had help, but everyone seemed to forget that little tidbit of information.

Han Solo didn’t forget that tidbit of information.

In fact, he talked about it daily.

Читать дальше

adrian chases transition lenses

A very happy Tech Tuesday to you all! In honor of the S2 trailer, here’s Tech with his new armor!

because I can~

**Special Announcement**

In early March, I finished writing a brand-new series. On April 15, I’m finally going to start publishing it.

Titanium

Luke (Pitch Perfect) x Fem!Reader

(Yes, you read that pairing correctly. I did, in fact, write a 13-chapter, +46k-word fic about a character with less than 10 minutes of screen time from a movie that came out a decade ago. But, hey, I wasn’t writing smut back in 2012, so I have to do it now.)

Summary: “Please, just no sex on the desk. I’ve been burned before.” At the beginning of the fall semester in your second year at Barden University, you decide to round out your schedule with an internship at the WBUJ campus radio station.

Warnings: Slutty douchebag with a heart of gold, nuisances to lovers, nonstop banter, slow burn, underage drinking, tooth-rotting fluff, angst, eventual smut

Chapters:

Chapter 1: Sticks and Stones (4/15)

Chapter 2: Stone-Hard (4/19)

Chapter 3: Talking Loud (4/22)

Chapter 4: Not Saying Much (4/26)

Chapter 5: Bulletproof (4/29)

Chapter 6: Nothing to Lose (5/3)

Chapter 7: Fire Away (5/6)

Chapter 8: The Ones Who Run (5/10)

Chapter 9: Ricochet (5/13)

Chapter 10: Take Your Aim (5/17)

Chapter 11: Shoot Me Down (5/20)

Chapter 12: I Won’t Fall (5/24)

Chapter 13: I Am Titanium / Epilogue (5/27)

Throughout this process, there has been one person in particular who has been at my side from start to finish. She’s been my sounding board, my idea gal, my beta reader, my editor, my cheerleader, and basically my writing partner. So, @gallifrangel, this one goes out to you.

I’m really proud of this project and I can’t wait to start sharing it with y’all on Friday!

* * * * *

Want to get updates when I publish a new fic? Set up post notifications at klmurr-writes.

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