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revelisms · 1 year ago

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Excerpt: What You Needed

After years, Jinx and Vi are reunited—and starting to make amends.

From ‘heron blue,’ an AU where Vi and Jinx reconnect under different terms. Slow, rocky relationship rebuilding, found family messiness, and political schemings. CW: Abandonment issues, dissociation, psychosis, dysfunctional family dynamics Full story on AO3

Her painted fingers clink out a red-capped glass bottle, and hold it stiffly across from her. "You...still like the cherry ones, right?"

Vi takes it from her, slowly, criss-crossed on the blankets across from her. "You bet," she says softly. Her mouth makes a strange twist: not quite a smile. She turns the bottle in her hand. "Still like blueberry?"

Jinx screws off the cap of her own, a glittering spin off the stones. "Uh, yeah—best of the bestest."

The lights hum around them, a pleasant, blitzy static. Jinx draws up her knees, curls her arms around them, and sips. For a long, horrible moment, there's nothing for them to say. Nothing she can get out: the questions stuck in her stomach, in her heart, like lead on her tongue.

Why did you leave me—?

"When...when did you build this?" Vi's looking at the decorations all around them, the paint and the color and glow, with a quiet awe.

Jinx wonders, for a moment, if she means the alcove or the club itself. They'd kept the bones, but rebuilt it all, straight from the ground up. No more smelly storeroom—too many ghosts; all boarded up now. They'd cleaned and sanded and revarnished the floors; painted the rooms, retiled the bathrooms; brought in that beautiful imported glass to bubble around the walls, a new addition to the spaces wholly their own on the third floor, with the same old staff kitchen and storage closets and divots in the walls.

Jinx shrugs, bobbing her knee. "Oh, I dunno—years ago."

Vi's smiling, now. She looks down at the bottle in her hands: twists off the cap. "I...I missed this, y'know. All your creations."

It lights up something in Jinx's heart, like a little lamp tuned to life. "I—I never stopped, really," she says, a flash of her teeth. "Painted up my room all pretty—oh—I just got this new color in from that big guy in the third district." She props closer, with a brightening grin. "It's, like, the prettiest blue—gonna put it on Whambo. He's gonna be a nail bomb. And I might use it for some details, on Fritz—he's a smoke flare, mostly, but he can double as a firecracker launcher—cool, right? I've been trying to get the combustion ratio right, for ages, but the thing keeps fizzlin' out too early—that old doc's tried to give me equations, but ugh—anyway. Work in progress, Fritz."

And then she's telling her about Jabberwock the ray gun, that she'd engraved with the emblem of a little seahorse—and about the Zing-Dusters she'd built: the respirators they used in the air dispensaries, that she was making a new model of—and the water filtration systems they were going to pilot in the rotted hovels of the Sump, once they got the right treated metals in.

She tells her about Tullo the mechanic, a giant of a man, with hair to his knees and tattoos gaudy as a pirate's, who she gets her imports from. Tullo, who Sevika got in a fight with the other day, after he'd called her arm just for show—and Sevika was a big old ogre, just as awful as ever: she ate blood sausage and grits for breakfast—yeuch!

She's rambling, on and on: the words pouring out of her: a runoff of shaky-laughed, tense-shouldered babbling.

There's so much she doesn't say.

She doesn't tell her about Little Man. She doesn't tell her about the voices in her head, or Mylo or Claggor, or her stuffed rabbit nailed to the wall, or how she spent years and years trying to carve herself in the chasm she'd left behind, not knowing why she wasn't enough, good enough, worth enough to bring her back; or how Silco would find her beating her hands bloody in the old arcade, or how he never laughed, not really, and never, ever cried, except when he talked about Vander, and then he nearly did both; or how, sometimes, when Sevika laid her arm around her, it almost, almost felt like hers—and she does not tell her about how Powder is dead and gone and drowned, drowned in a well, drowned by Jinx's own hands, and Jinx—Jinx is strong, now.

The voices ring through her ears: a pitching, endless drone.

It's too quiet, again.

Jinx swallows, fidgeting. She lifts her eyes from the roof. Vi is just looking at her, looking and frowning, with that burning sort of sadness Jinx hates. She's looking at her, and not saying a word—and for all Jinx doesn't tell her any of that, she is terrified that in some small, terrible way, she knows it, all the same.

"You're quiet," Jinx mumbles. She rips her eyes down, again.

Vi reaches over, wraps her hand beneath her own. "I know—I know. I'm sorry, I'm just..." She huffs out a breath, turning away, staring at the bustle of the streets. "I'm just thinking." She's nervous: her hands heavy and fiddling, so warm over Jinx's own. "It's—it's just..." Vi clears her throat. "It's been so long, I've been—I've been so worried about you."

Jinx scrapes her nail over her thumb. Those words hit something unpleasant inside her—worried about you—plunge a sickly chill in her stomach: a blazing knot of self-disgust, of rage; of sharp, splintered old hurt.

The words trapped in her throat bubble out, before she can stop them. "Why..." They stick like grease on her teeth. "Why did you leave me?"

She knows they cut at her sister. She knows they sting.

Part of her wants them to.

Vi looks down. She weathers her thumb over Jinx's own. "I—I tried to get back to you, I promise." The same as she'd said, before. "I did—but I—"

"You left me." It sounds so pitiful coming out of Jinx's mouth, and she despises herself for it. She yanks her hand out from Vi's own: tucks it under her knee. "I didn't—I didn't understand—"

"I know," Vi hushes. "I know, I—there hasn't been a day I haven't regretted it. Not a single one, from every damned night I was in that cell—but I—I just—" Her shoulders sink. She's looking away, forcing air through her teeth. "I needed time."

Something blitzes up Jinx's neck: leaves her head twitching.

You're not ready!

She scowls slow at the tiles. "Away from me."

"That's not—"

I told you to stay away!

Jinx scrapes her nails against the stones. "Things changed, when you left." Air shudders against her teeth. She fights the heat broiling in her throat: blinks it quick out of her eyes. "I—I changed," she whispers.

Vi's hands fist between her knees. Something in her turns venomous: like it did in Silco, when someone said something that got under his skin; when he let his words turn harsh and biting, looming over his constituents, a shadow of a monster with red-tipped wings.

"If I'd known you were here," Vi is saying, a low firmness in the words—and Jinx knows where they're going, before she even speaks them; feels her shoulders draw firm as stone. "If I could have—I would have done anything to find you; I would have got you out of here, as soon as I—"

A numbness washes through Jinx's veins.

"Got me out," she repeats.

She feels so far away from herself. Floating.

She's seeing Little Man, with his hair still short and his arms still gangly: his hand shackled around her wrist, hard enough to crush her, pleading to a girl who didn't exist—Powder, come with me, please—we've found a place in the sewers, away from all of this, where you'll be safe—whatever he's done, I'll make sure he never gets to you, again—

"I don't need you to save me," Jinx bites out. Tension gnaws through her fingers: turns them white-knuckled on her knee.

Mylo's wrong, Powder. You're stronger than you think.

You're strong, now—just like you were always meant to be.

She wrenches her head from the words, the memories: Vi's fist colliding with her cheek, Silco's thumb sweeping against it. "I never needed you to save me, I—I needed—"

Because you're a jinx! Mylo was right!

Jinx is perfect.

"Someone else," Vi mutters. Jinx falters, ice in her lungs. Stares wide-eyed at her. Vi is frowning at the green glow beyond them, rasping her thumb against the wrapping over her knuckles. She takes in a hard, gritty breath, and eases it out. "I know," she continues. "I left you, and he—" The look in her eyes turns so strange: bitter, scathing. "He showed up." It's like the words are pulling out her teeth. Her thumb presses hard into her knuckles. "And maybe, that's—that's what you needed."

Jinx tries to swallow. Heat burns and burns in her throat. "You want me to hate him," she tests, prickling with spite. "You don't want me to be here." Flashes of color outside the edges of her vision: eyes and faces and howling words. "You don't like him—you don't like any of them—well, none of you all liked me, either—"

"That's not true—"

Ghosts are picking at her ears and clawing at her arms and too loud.

"—because I—I was just some—some loose screw, screw-up, always screwing things up—shut up!" She wrenches her head into her hands, squeezes it tight, tight between her nails, to keep her skull from splitting open. "Shut up, shut up!"

Vi's looking at her like she's broken, a wind-up toy with all the cogs gone: like something she doesn't know how to fix. Carefully, her bandaged hand lays over her knee. "That's not true, and you know it," she says gravely. The words crack. "We loved you, Powder. Vander, and Mylo, and Claggor—"

"Don't." Jinx seethes it out, feral: wrenches herself away from Vi's burning hand. "Stop." She breathes long, cavernous, heaving. "Stop, don't—I don't want to think about them—I don't want to think about them, I don't—"

Vi closes her eyes, clenches her jaw. "Okay."

"I don't," Jinx hisses again. There's too much color in her eyes, too much noise in her head.

Vi's holding her. She doesn't remember when she started holding her.

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that-dumb-dinosaur · 5 months ago

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reading fics for a fandom for the first time is so embarrassing for no reason

#girl get a grip !!#we've been down this path many times #it's just another new road to get home #ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic #trexi pterodactyl screeches #jujutsu kaisen #yeah that's what this is about...#star wars #lotr #percy jackson #arcane #the magnus archives #avatar the last airbender #mcu

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alynnl · 2 years ago

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That writer's feeling when the WIP comes alive and tells you where it wants to go

#aaaa #Lynn's writing #writing process commentary #outline who? I don't know her #but this new direction makes sense #it'll make the story simpler #and it'll make the moment between my characters feel more intimate #this is the right path I know it #writeblr #fanfic writing #Making a Space for You

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curator-on-ao3 · 2 years ago

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I was talking about this in the comments of the story, so I figured I’d say it here, too:

My Una Chin-Riley/Seven of Nine one-shot, The Melody of You (and Me), is a love letter to fanfic.

I figured the work would be my 100th on AO3 and I wanted to say something meta about fanworks and imagination and the many ways to find love and be loved. That’s why Seven is taken before she meets Raffi and Una is taken just before she meets La’an — two femslash ships that don’t happen in the universe of the fic, yet Una and Seven both still find happiness.

Because fanfic is about possibilities.

Fanfic is about seeing what the inspiring material’s creators can’t or won’t or wouldn’t.

Fanfic is for fans — it’s our playground, for us, to write whatever we want.

So if I want two brilliant, badass women who exist in different time periods and on different shows to be in a loving relationship of equals in which each is heard and seen and appreciated exactly for who she is, then I’m going to do that.

Because it’s fanfic.

So I can.

[image: a yellow banner with the words Trivia Tuesday in a cursive font]

Trivia Tuesday

Creators: give a “behind the scenes” look at one of your works. This could be things that got removed or changed, the origins of ideas/details, whatever you like!

Fans: share bits of trivia from canon and challenge others to create something based on that trivia - fic, art, or something else! I once made a crossword puzzle :)

Feel free to repost this header!

#trivia tuesday #fanfic meta #talkin’ ’bout my fic #una chin-riley #seven of nine #una chin-riley x seven of nine #una chin-riley/seven of nine #star trek strange new worlds fanfic #star trek picard fanfic #the heart has many paths to happiness #(also una’s reaction to the idea of being married to pike is an homage to confederation!seven’s reaction to being married to the dude)

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stjohnstarling · 10 months ago

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Alright, so: I want to explain a little more about this connection between the Twilight fandom, Fifty Shades of Grey, and seemingly, the self-publishing industry as a whole. It's a lot, so I'm going to have to chip away at it a bit at a time, and I think the best place to start is by describing the scene in late 2000s Twilight fandom.

In 2009, Twilight was one of the biggest fandoms in the world, although it was nearly invisible to outsiders because it

Was about a straight couple, while most other fandoms were predominantly gay, and

Was conducted almost entirely on fanfiction.net among a group of people who had little other background in fandom. (x)

That meant for many Twilight fans, Twilight was fandom. It was all they knew, and many had no path out. That also made it a corked champagne bottle with the pressure building.

Because of these community dynamics and the declining quality of the Twilight books themselves, Twilight fanfiction evolved to be mostly AUs so alternate they were more-or-less original romance novels that used Bella and Edward as broad character templates. (x)

Seriously, Twilight fandom got really crazy big for a few years there. It was not totally uncommon to get multi-million clicks on a semi-popular story. It's weird looking back on it and calling it "Twilight fandom" because it was really more like "Romance Novel fandom". For real, for a period there, calling a Twilight fanfic author a 'Twilight fan' would be the ultimate insult. But they never stopped writing about Edward and Bella! It's so weird. (x)

If you were in 2000s era fandom, you're probably aware of the phenomenon of Big Name Fans and the various social-climbing dynamics that happened around them. The Twilight fandom took this social power game another level:

This wasn't even just an author thing. There were Big Name Authors (BNAs) but there were also Big Name Readers. These were basically like... full-time rabid fans of a BNA. They devoted so much of their time to helping out the BNAs, reviewing their chapters, making them fanart, promoting their fics, kissing their asses with cringe-worthy intensity, you name it. Which is why you saw what looked like BNAs having 'employees', such as Moi, tby789's Director of Marketing. (x)

It became apparent that these power games weren't just for fandom clout. The fandom was proving that that social power could be translated into real-world dollars. You see, the Twilight fandom used to organize charity auctions where big name authors would auction off custom fanfiction, and the money generated was substantial:

Mostly authors would auction off stories. So if you donated in my name, I'd write you 10,000 words of porn in my Tattward universe, or something new, etc. That's how it worked. The 2009 auction raised $80,000. The 2010 auction raised $140,000. The 2011 auction raised $20,00. [NOTE: this is likely a typo] (x)

A lot of these dynamics were not unique to the Twilight fandom, but it was the combination that created a perfect storm of opportunism. This would end up changing not just fandom dynamics but the publishing industry as a whole.

#original post #fifty shades liveblog #Working on the rest of this #Part one of not sure how many

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howcouldmuffin · 4 months ago

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Beneath the Betrothal.

After the engagement was announced, and you realized that waiting was no longer the right path, you decided to start anew.

PAIRING : Jacearys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

WARNING : NSFW, Targaryen incest, Non-canon, SMUT, Sex Content

AN : This is the first fanfic l've written. I apologize if there are any mistakes. Please feel free to give me any feedback. Love.

please be kind to me English is not my first language.

Many years have passed since your father Viserys announced the betrothal to Jacaerys, who although your nephew, is older than you. No one in House Hightower was pleased with this news, except for you.

You were raised differently from your siblings—the youngest daughter born with your father’s expectations. He had you share the same wet nurse as Jacaerys and your older brother Daeron. You grew up with the Velaryon family, witnessing the differences between your eldest sister Rhaenyra and your mother Alicent.

Although you had been friends with Jacaerys since childhood, the words that everyone kept telling you “that you would marry him” filled your mind with dreams. You fell in love with him, but you knew that he didn’t love you the same way. He was a charming young man, a gentleman with honor, admired by all. Many were fond of him. The prince of the Seven Kingdoms.

When Rhaenyra ascended to the throne, everyone swore oaths of loyalty and service to her without question. Many lords came to pay their respects to the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Jacaerys was appointed as the heir to the Iron Throne, and your betrothal was announced once again, but it was never mentioned again after that.

At first, you thought it was just a matter of waiting for things to settle down before the important ceremony would take place. But as time went on, you began to question it, and eventually, you found the answer. It was Jacaerys who requested that the wedding be postponed. You were shattered by this news—it hurt as though your heart had been broken into pieces.

There have been months of silence and unspoken words between you and Jacaerys. Even the gatekeepers of the Red Keep are aware of the situation. The whispers and rumors have started to grow louder—some say the prince already has someone he wishes to marry, or perhaps he dislikes his betrothed because she is a Hightower. None of the answers bring you any truth.

But it has made you realize that waiting is no longer the right course of action. It’s time to start looking for potential suitors from great houses. Soon, there will be a grand event at the Red Keep once again—the second-year anniversary of Queen Rhaenyra’s reign. Nobles and knights from all over the realm will gather here. It could be a good opportunity to find a new way forward.

“I wish to see my queen.” you said to the knight guarding your sister’s chamber door. They nodded slightly and stepped aside to let you enter.

“Your Grace.” you said as you entered the room, immediately curtseying to the queen. “If it pleases you, I have something I wish to discuss.” Rhaenyra paused her writing and looked up.

“Sister.” she said, rising and walking towards you. “What is it you wish to speak with me about?” The queen gently led you to a nearby sofa and lightly took your hand.

“I’ve come to talk about my betrothal to the prince.”

“If you’d like to discuss how you’d like the ceremony to be arranged, or if there’s anything additional you’d like to request, you can speak to me directly.”

“No, Your Grace. I… I wish to call off the engagement.”

“Oh, dear, why would you want to cancel the betrothal? Have you found someone you prefer?”

“No, Your Grace. I just think it might be better if the prince and I were free to choose someone we truly like and love.” Rhaenyra laughed softly at your words. She raised her hand to cup your face, gently turning you to look into her eyes. You lifted your hand to hold hers in return.

“Listen to me, dear. There’s no one more suited to be the next queen than you. Don’t let others’ words sway you.”

“I’m sorry, Your Grace, but I truly wish to call off the engagement. Please, I ask you to consider it.” You gently moved her hand away from your face, holding it firmly in yours.

“If that is what you desire, I will take it under consideration. But I ask that you think it over once more, my dear.” After expressing your wishes, you moved to embrace your sister, always understanding her no matter what.

Before long, the grand celebration was in full swing, with people gathering to offer their congratulations to their queen. Today, you woke up much earlier than usual. You were an integral part of organizing the feast—the floral decorations, the guest list of important attendees. You were determined to ensure that your sister’s special day would go smoothly.

The dress you wore today was long and red, with an off-the-shoulder design that revealed your neckline. It was beautifully embroidered with golden patterns around the dress. Your hair was partially braided and pinned up, with natural curls left to fall gracefully. You glanced at the necklace on your vanity table—the one Jacaerys had given you for your birthday many years ago. In the end, you chose not to wear it, opting instead for another necklace that matched your dress just as well.

“You look stunning, Princess.” your handmaiden remarked as she finished styling your hair.

“Thank you. You can leave now, I’ll take care of the rest myself.” She curtseied and left the room as instructed.

You slowly turned to the mirror, gazing at your reflection for a moment before preparing to head to the feast. By now, your mother was likely waiting for you. But as the door closed behind your handmaiden, you sensed someone else was in the room.

“What were you thinking, trying to call off the engagement?” Jacaerys spoke, his voice sharp. He was the last person you wanted to see right now. It was the first conversation in months that left a lasting impression.

“Prince.” you greeted him with a curtsey. “I just thought—” He stepped closer to you, so close that it nearly took your breath away. He looked angrier than you could ever remember seeing him.

“Is there someone else you’re in love with?”

“No, Your Highness.” you replied.

“Let’s go. The others must be waiting for us.” he said, lifting one arm. At first, you weren’t sure what he meant, but then you placed your hand on his arm.

Walking into the feast together might be normal for a married couple or an engaged pair, but it felt strange for the two of you, who hadn’t exchanged a meaningful word in so long. As you entered the great hall, you could feel the eyes of many upon you and your betrothed.

Everyone stood to pay their respects to you and their prince, creating an odd pressure on you. Jacaerys looked every bit the heir to the Iron Throne today. His attire included a cloak with a pattern matching your dress, likely arranged by Rhaenyra.

When you reached the queen’s table, you both bowed to the highest authority in the realm before going your separate ways. He sat beside his brother Lucerys, while you took a seat next to your brother Aemond.

“Beautiful dress, sister.” Aemond’s comment was more likely a tease than a compliment.

“Thank you, brother. I think it’s lovely as well.”

The feast began after Rhaenyra’s announcement, and the music started to play. People began to dance in the center of the hall. Conversations with your siblings took place, and although they didn’t think highly of your betrothed, they chose not to voice any further objections.

“Would you like to dance, sister?” Daeron, your youngest brother, asked. Why not? He was as renowned for his looks in the family as you were. Although you hadn’t grown up together much, he was the second person you consulted about your betrothed, after Helena.

With the music playing, you and your brother enjoyed the dance. As the Westerosi-style dance continued, many people joined in with you. Dancing gave you the opportunity to talk with a variety of men. Some were genuine friends, but most had other intentions beyond mere friendship.

“I think it would be the greatest mistake on your part to let her go.” Rhaenyra said to her son, who had been staring at you intently, prompting her to speak up.

“What are you talking about?” Jacaerys turned his attention to his mother, confusion evident on his face.

“You know very well what I’m talking about.” she said, meeting his gaze. “If you don’t truly care for her, then let her go. She deserves to find someone who truly loves her.” He remained silent, not responding, and merely finished his drink.

He stood up from the table and left the feast abruptly. With so many people in the hall, no one seemed to notice the prince’s departure. Now, Jacaerys was at a loss, angry with you for reasons he was struggling to address. He was searching for a way to make you pay for what you had done to him.

Once the door to your room closed behind you, you had just returned from the feast. Separating yourself from the men had left you quite exhausted, and you were eager to take a relaxing bath.

“Did you enjoy getting close to other men who aren’t your betrothed?” A familiar voice spoke up. You were startled to hear him, Jacaerys was sitting on your bed, glaring at you with a reprimanding look.

“How did you get into my room?” you asked, and moving closer to him. “When did you ever care that I’m your betrothed?”

“I’ve always cared about you, but what I know is that you haven’t shown any interest in me.”

“No interest, you say?” You stepped closer to him and leaned in. “I wouldn’t be asking to postpone the wedding if I didn’t care.”

“I care about you!” he shouted, making you jump. He had never acted this way towards you before. He stood up and approached you.

“And wanting to postpone the wedding means you don’t want to marry me, doesn’t it? What are you trying to say? If you hate me, just say it, Jacaerys Velaryon. I will not tolerate your mind games any longer.”

“You don’t understand me.” he said, stepping closer. You backed away in response. “I want you to be ready, ready to bear my children. If we marry, producing an heir will come first, and I know if you were to become pregnant too soon, it would be you who would leave me.”

With no space left to retreat, you and he were face to face. He placed one hand on the back of your neck, holding your gaze, while his other hand gently caressed your face.

“Listen to me. I have always loved you, and I will continue to love you until the day I die. You are the only one who makes me feel like myself, who I constantly long for. You will be the only one by my side.” His eyes, looking at you, were so beautiful.

“May I kiss you?” he asked.

You didn’t respond but immediately leaned in to kiss him. He kissed you back without hesitation as well. Both of you embraced each other as if you were missing warmth from one another. The taste he gave you was sweet and surprisingly addictive. He treated you with reverence and gentleness.

The physical connection between the two of you came together quickly as if drawn by opposing magnetic forces. You and he slowly walked towards the bed. Jacearys gently lifted you onto the bed and stood beside it. Both of you looked at each other for a moment before he slowly began to remove his outer shirt.

“Don’t tear my clothes.” you said, seeming to have less patience than him. You slowly removed your dress, leaving only the sheer undergarments. He chuckled softly and leaned down to kiss your neck, moving from your collarbone to your chest, your stomach, and the center of your body.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked. “If we stop now, you might not regret it.” He ran his finger along the waistband of your underwear, the small piece that was covering you at the moment. He kissed your stomach again, followed by your collarbone and neck.

“We’ve come too far to stop now.” you said. “Please, my prince.” You placed your hand on his hair, marveling at its natural waves. The prince slowly removed the sheer garment that covered you

“You are so beautiful, perfectly suited for me.” he said, kissing your chest. His other hand gently squeezed it, leaving the imprint of his fingers. He nipped at your nipple and licked it slowly. Your desire surged, and you craved even more.

He slowly used his hands to remove your small panties. Soon, heaven was revealed before him. His hands parted your legs, and he leaned down to taste the sweetness between your thighs. His nose brushed against your clit, driving you nearly insane.

You moaned, "Please, my prince, I need more." You were now very wet. Jacearys, undoubtedly aware, playfully teased your little cunt with his tongue, and the lewd sounds echoed throughout your bedroom.

“What do you want, beautiful?” he asked, using his other hand to play with your erect nipple.

“I want you, Jacearys.” you moaned again. He fuck you with his fingers in your sweet cunt. His fingers pushed deeper inside you while his mouth licked at your clit.

“Who do you belong to?” he murmured, then turned to mark your thigh instead.

"I am yours." you breathed heavily. "Yours, Jacearys." Soon, your moans rose again, your body convulsing slightly as it tightened around his fingers.

"Look at what you've done to me, how hard it is." He slowly took off his pants, showcasing his erect state. He stroked it once or twice and then slowly entered.

"Oh, fuck." he moaned. "It's so tight." He stayed inside for a while and then gradually moved his body so that you wouldn't feel pain.

“Such a sweet cunt” He kept accelerating his hip rhythm, the impact sounded all over the room, wondering how someone was guarding the door of the room today, he knew what you and our prince was doing.

The time that passes each minute is precious to you now. You feel that you are very sensitive even if it is just a little touch. But you can't deny how much you like it every time you feel him in your own body.

“I'm very close.”

“At the same time”

White drops also dripped out of him. He pushed himself deeper into you. The moans of the couple said very well. He cum inside of you, your irregular breathing and he touched each other's skin.

He leaned down to kiss you again, sweeter than ever before. His hair fell down around you, creating an incredibly seductive scene. One of your hands gently caressed his cheek. You needed nothing more when he was by your side.

“I am yours, and you are mine, Whatever may come.” He whispered

“I am yours, and you are mine, Whatever may come.”

#‧⁺◟ lyn writing table *•#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader

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hobis-hope95 · 4 months ago

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Blessed by the Gods

fancast!Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader

Summary: You, the only daughter of Amos Bracken, had just been offered away in marriage to a man much older than you, and in the hopes of having some peace and quiet for you to express your anguish towards the Gods that allowed this, you go to a place you found a couple months ago - a beautiful clearing with flowers scattered around and a weirwood tree in the middle. You knew it was risky, as you'd seen him there before, but in a moment of distraction Benjicot Blackwood found you and now you must suffer the consequences.

Warnings: 18+, enemies to lovers, a little fluf (veeery little), kinda dom x sub, swearing, hunting (it's basicaly it but I don't know if there's another term for it, when you read you'll know), smut, porn with (very) little plot, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, rough sex, breeding kink, praising kink.

Authors note: Heyy, so this is my very first time posting something I wrote (I do write a lot but mostly I get stuck and end up not finishing it) because I'm OBCESSED with Kieran Burton since I saw him in the goddamn teaser, plus I've been reading plenty of fanfics of him and two of them particularly inspired me for this (I'm sorry, I don't remember the names or the authors to tag them). Last but not least, English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes.

You should hate him. You should’ve never been in that place, for you knew it was Blackwood territory, and should’ve heard him getting closer before. But you didn’t. You knew he went there frequently and if he saw you in the golden dress you wore in that particular place, he would definitely tell you to go back to your lands, but not without some provocation first. But that weirwood tree was so beautiful even if hidden in the middle of the woods, the flowers that bloom around it were so unique that you had to go there and admire them in a way to flee from the confinements of Stone Hedge. Or you told yourself that this was the reason you went there.

You found it the first time by accident. You had got lost in the woods, no track of a clearing nearby for you to situate yourself, when you saw the red leaves and decided to get near, for you knew that the weirwood roots extended long through the floor – making itself exclusive for a few yards in its radium – and you would be able to see the sky without the treetops being on your way. When you got there, though, the place was so gorgeous you could not leave right away.

After that, you tried to memorize as much of the path you could and return to that same place for moments of peace. That was until one day you heard footsteps – of one person it seemed – and you hushed to hide away. Moments later, hidden behind some bushes, you saw when no other than Benjicot Blackwood appeared through another end of the clearing where, you didn’t notice before, had a small trail that probably led straight to Raventree Hall.

Bloody Ben. Lord Blackwood. Lord of the house you were supposed to hate, and yet you found him so extremely gorgeous. You’d saw him only a few times. On Riverrun where your families sometimes were called by their Paramount Lord or near the stream that divided their lands, often arguing with your cousin in the company of a few others of his House and a few times you ended up being the victim, getting back home after slapping him across his face with his obscene remarks or just leaving after outsmarting the man – for the second you took much pride in.

On some of the times you’d been on the clearing you ended up having to hide when hearing his footsteps and waiting for him to leave before you could move. He’d mostly sit in one of the roots of the old tree and do whatever he felt like doing at the moment. You’d seen him reading, cleaning his sword, crafting some arrows and doing nothing at all, but he always stayed for about two hours before finally leaving.

Today however, probably because you were stressed with the news of your arranged marriage, you didn’t hear him getting close. When he saw your dress, the colour of your house shining through the rays of sunshine, a smirk crept in his face with the ideas he had in mind.

He knew it was wrong, hideous, the idea of wanting anything that came with the red stallion in a golden shield, your House’s coat of arms. He knew that from any woman he could want, you should not be a possibility. But with your hair that finished around your hips and a face that looked like a gift from the Gods, allied with your wits and challenging manner, he could not lie to himself that more than once he woke up in the middle of the night hot and bothered after a much-detailed dream about you – and eventually would handle his hardness with the thought of defiling you and making you his.

What he didn’t know, and you tried to deny it as much as you could, was that you also had conflicting thoughts about him. Since the first time you’d saw him in Riverrun, his face showing a mischievous glow with a smirk on his lips as your family entered the room, you fought with your own body as your heart raced and your cheeks burned in his presence. You hated the way he mocked your cousin and told you the lousiest of things, his lascivious expression making you hot and bothered as well, and you hated that every time you saw him, you knew that at the end of the day you would toss and turn for hours trying to erase his face from your mind.

You told yourself it was just because he was the only one who didn't walk on eggshells when talking to you – or anyone for that matter – and because you liked the challenge, but deep down you knew that your feelings for him were far from hatred, and the idea of trying to find out the true meaning of them scared you.

“Gods, have I done anything to anger you so that I’m faded to marry Forrester Frey? I would do anything, please!” You asked to the faced weirwood tree, knowing you’d have no answer but desperate enough to look like a crazy woman who talks to a tree by yourself. What you did not know was that someone did hear you.

Benjicot took his blade from his waist, taking extra care to not be heard, and when he got close enough to you, he acted quickly, one arm holding your body – your arms entrapped – and the one with the blade stopping on your neck.

“My, my, look what we have in here, a lost Bracken broodmare, far away from home” Her breath got caught up on her throat with the feeling of the cold blade on her skin and her heart jumped on her chest with his body pressed against her back and his voice so close to her ear “Good thing that I found you before any other predator did, huh?”

“Let me go, please!!” You pleaded, pure panic spilling from your voice, and Benji almost moaned – he had no idea that having you pressed against his body in panic would arouse him that much “Oh no, my darling, I could not do such a thing. You just committed a crime, you see, for you are far away from your father’s lands and what fair lord would I be if I do not punish criminals like you?”

“Please, I’ll vanish from your sight in less than a minute and no one will know about this, okay? Just please, let me go!!” Your eyes were burning with unshed tears with the thought of the possible punishment he had in mind, and you didn’t stay still, moving your body in an attempt to free yourself from him even if useless, as he was taller and way stronger.

“No, no, no, my darling, I could not possibly do that, your Bracken lord can play blind on your actions, but I am a serious ruler and punish all criminals as their crimes demand” He tightened his grip on your body, his fingers pressing harder against the clothed skin of your waist, and as he continually pressed on you, a warm feeling cursed through you until it reached in between your thighs “But what punishment would be enough? Thieves, who take things that don't belong to them, have their hands cut off. Murderers, who take lives that do not belong to them, pay with their own lives. Now you, who committed invasion of lands that don’t belong to you, what could I possibly do to punish you correctly?”

Once again you pleaded, ‘please’ sounding like a repeated prayer on your lips as he inhaled the sweet smell of your hair “I could not invade your father’s lands, or I would be committing a crime of my own” He stated as if he did not listen to your pleads and when he spoke again, his voice was huskier and low like a whisper “But I could invade your territory myself”

You hated yourself for how your body reacted to his words, your thighs squeezing together when you felt the heat on your lower belly grow, and hated even more that a side of you wanted him to go ahead with his threat full of mischievous intentions. Him, on the other hand, was more than pleased to hold you that way, his front fully in contact against your behind and his groin pressed against your back.

“Please, Benjicot, lord Blackwood, please” You repeated and started struggling even more when you felt his hard cock pressed against your back, trying to move away “Please, please! What, my lady, do you want me to do?” He mocked, repeating what you said in a higher pitch, as his hand with the knife left your throat and went to your hip “You want me to be gentle?”

Another wave of heat made you close your eyes for a second, a hard sigh leaving your lips and you didn’t answer. He laughed when he heard you “This is supposed to be a punishment, but I’ll make an exception if you behave” He said, his breath hot against your ear as the hand on your hip went further down and grabbed the skirt of your dress, pulling it up.

Your neck now free from the threat of his blade, an idea came to your mind. You were not sure if it would work, but it was your only hope, so you took it. Bending your head forward to gain some impulse, you took a deep breath – bracing yourself for the upcoming pain – and shook your head back with all your strength, hitting his head on the side.

Benjicot, surprised with what had just happened and with his head pulsating, faltered his grip on you long enough for you to get rid of his arm around you and start running, your head spinning and your vision still blurry from the blow. You felt and heard when the skirt of your dress ripped, before the other man’s hand lost its grip on the fabric, but you didn’t turn around to check the damage.

With your vision still recovering and the pulsing pain in your head, you headed to the woods, still not sure if you followed the right path, only caring about getting as far of him as possible. Benjicot, on the other hand, quickly recovered from the dizziness, the pain easily subsiding, and he growled before following you, euphoric and feeling his blood rush through his body straight to his cock with the expectation of hunting you down.

You ran as fast as you could, your breathing burning in your lungs and your legs aching, and tried to dodge the trees and bushes in your way. Even with all your efforts, you heard his steps and breathing not that far away, and fear crept inside you, being the one thing that prevented you from collapsing in that moment.

He knew those woods like his own chambers – losing track of how many times he went there to hunt, explore, have a moment of peace or take out his anger on the trees – and he had the advantage of being taller than you, his muscles trained for endurance in the battlefields, so even if you ran with all your strength, it would still be easy enough for him to reach you.

“Bracken!! Do not think you can run away from your punishment, you’re still on my lands” Your step became unsteady when his voice seemed closer than you imagined and after tripping over a tree root, you couldn't keep your balance, ending up falling with your body and arms protecting you from ending face first into the grass.

As you were turning to place your hands on the ground and help you stand, you heard a twig cracking right behind you and soon enough his voice made you turn your head “Poor mare, doesn’t know her way home, but don’t worry, I’ll show you when I finish your punishment if you want”

You tried to turn yourself so you could stand back up, but before you could do anything, he caught your ankle and pulled you closer, turning you to face him “No, no my darling, you’re not escaping me again, now come here, the quicker it starts, the quicker it finishes, if you want... or you could just enjoy it”

“No, no, no!!” You repeated like a prayer and when he positioned himself between your legs, you started to punch and scratch at his chest, face and arms “Calm down, I think I was mistaken, for you are not a mare but a kitten, but no need to show your claws. I know I said that I would be gentle if you behaved and you didn’t, but I do have a soft spot for beautiful girls like you”

Quickly enough, as if your efforts meant nothing, Benjicot grabbed both your wrists and held them above your head, leaning his body closer to yours – his groin pressing against the middle of your thighs and his mouth just a few inches away, his breath hitting your face.

“You know what surprised me about your behaviour just now?” He asked, looking at your eyes, before he kissed your jaw and a hand went to your ankle “Because every time I see you, be in the Tully’s assize or the boundary, you are always looking at me so needy that makes me want to fuck you right there”

He left open-mouthed kisses through your neck as you felt the hairs on your nape stand and his hand began to move up your leg through the fabric of your dress “So why now are you pretending you do not want this?” He moved his hips forward, his hardness pressing against your clothed folds, and you didn’t have the strength to hold a moan.

“Be-because I don’t! You Blackwoods are just so ugly that I’m surprised to see something like that in the middle of a crowd” You spat, trying to regain some of your pride, but he chuckled, lifting his head with a smirk.

“Act all you can, kitten, but that moan just annulled everything you said, you know” His hand now was in your inner thigh and as he stopped talking, his calloused fingers went straight to your folds. You bit the inside of your cheeks to hold your voice and furrowed your brows, but he still looked almost amused at your efforts.

“Fuck you” You twisted in his grip but could not move enough to escape his touch and he took the chance to move his index finger through your folds, watching as you closed your eyes and your hips grounded into his touch “Oh, my lady, deny it as much as you want, but your body will remain true to its desires”

His smirk grew wider, his tongue sliding through his teeth, as his thumb found your clit and he watched in pleasure as you clenched your jaw and your legs opened wider for him. He circled your bundle of nerves with his thumb while his middle finger slid down your folds, reaching your entrance, and didn’t waste the opportunity to shove his finger inside you to the point where only his last knuckle was visible outside.

You moaned loudly, having been caught off guard, and your walls tightened around his finger “Fuck, you’re so tight, it’ll feel delicious around my cock” Benjicot started moving his finger, almost completely withdrawing before plunging it back inside, while still rubbing his thumb through your clit, and soon enough you were a mess, your thoughts fogged with the pleasure his hand was giving you.

You didn’t even notice when his hand let go of your wrists, too caught up on the feeling of his finger inside you and his pace growing faster by the second, as you fought against the undeniable pleasure you were feeling, and when he curled up his digit inside you, the thin string of pride you hung yourself by collapsed, giving in to the urge of your feelings and enjoy as he claimed you.

“M-more, please” You whispered, completely giving in to the ache of your heart. That was why you could not stray your eyes from him at every assize, that was why you would walk too close to the boundary and why you would come all the way from Stone Hedge to that specific clearing with that specific weirwood tree.

Your heart wanted him and there was no denying it, not anymore, not when his middle finger curled inside you so deliciously that made you see stars through your eyelids and not when you caught a glimpse of him and he looked at you like a starved man “Say again, kitten? I didn’t hear you” He teased, thinking you had yet again tried to deny your wishes.

“More, please, Benjicot” You said before you moaned again, your eyes fully opening now with your brows furrowed in pleasure, and for a second he wished he had a portrait painted of you like this. He pushed another finger inside, his pace now relentless with his cock throbbing through his breeches, and with his free hand he grasped the front of your dress, tearing the fabric to expose your full breasts.

“Stopped putting up a fight now, kitten? But this is not a treat, this is a punishment” He said as he curled both his fingers inside you once again before completely withdrawing from your wet cunt. He lifted the fingers that were on you seconds ago and looked at them, making a disapproving sound with his tongue “Just look at that, look at the mess you made on my fingers, huh?”

He tapped at your lower lip with his wet fingers, the smell of yourself arousing you even more “Now be a good girl and open up” And you did as he said. You closed your lips around his fingers as you felt them press at your tongue and moaned as you tasted yourself “Clean them”

You ignored the smug smirk on his lips, knowing he was enjoying bossing you around more than anything, and hollowed your cheeks sucking on his calloused digits. Now it was his turn to let out a pleased groan and when you looked at his eyes his pupils were blown, his irises darker, what almost made you moan on his fingers again.

“I’ve heard you back there by the weirwood tree, your cunt of a father wants to sell you to that old Frey?” Benjicot retreated his fingers from your mouth and ran them down your chin, your saliva running through your skin as he slowly traced a way through your neck and collarbones until he reached one of your breasts, both his digits circling your already pointy nipple as he watched your velvety skin under his touch, his smirk had gone away from his face “That old dog deserves not even a piece of you”

You felt your heart skip a beat with his words, trying not to conclude anything for he had not confirmed yet “But soon enough he won’t be a problem, don’t worry kitten” He twisted your nipple between his index and thumb, trying to calm down his anger with the thought of Forrester Frey being anywhere near you, before you asked “How?”

“Because after I finish with your punishment, no man will take you as their wife” He pinched your nipple and you moaned again, the threat mixed with his ministrations and the dark expression in his face being almost too much.

The Blackwood lord moved his other hand to the laces of his breeches, undoing them while still stimulating your breast, and your breath hitched on your throat as you looked down, fixed on his slender fingers dealing with the strings, seeing as it became loose around his hips before he had to let go of your breast to get rid of the fabric that covered his lower part.

As he took off his breeches he came back to his position between your legs, your thighs on top of his, and his smirk placed itself back on his face as he watched your eyes widen with the sight of his bare hard cock.

“You’re- this is-, you are so big” You let out, shock and want on your face as he pushed your dress up, revealing your glistening cunt to him “I know, kitten, but do not worry, it will fit” You lifted your gaze from his hips to his eyes, finding him already staring back at you, and all you could think was that you wanted him more than anything in the world.

He placed both hands on your hips, bringing you closer, and grabbed him in his hand to slide through your folds, collecting as much of your juices as he could. He wanted you, desperately, he wanted to completely fill you with his length and fuck you mercilessly until all he heard was your screams of pleasure, he wanted to ruin you to any other man and to have only you for the rest of his fucking life.

And so, with the promise of punishing you in his head, he shoved his cock all the way inside you in one thrust, leaving you gasping, your mouth opened and your eyes closed, the stretch and pain of your first time almost bringing you to tears. He had never experienced something like this before – as his previous experiences had been with whores – and didn’t even dare to move, your cunt gripping him so tightly he thought that if he moved at that moment he would cum on the spot.

As he noticed your eyes closed, he pinched your nipple “Open your eyes, kitten, I want to look at your beautiful eyes” You sighed before opening them and when you did, he noticed the tears you tried not to spill. That made something snap inside him, breaking all the will he had to hurt and punish you, and he bended down to meet your face, his breath on your face and his eyes on your lips.

“As soon as I saw you there, next to the weirwood tree, all I wanted to do was to hurt you, make you regret stepping on Blackwood territory on that golden dress of yours, but it’s rather difficult to focus with that pretty face” One of his forearms was keeping him steady as his free hand came to your breasts, the feeling of your soft skin on his calloused fingers almost making him moan “Go on, tell me how you hate me, fight me, tell me how you are disgusted by me, so I can focus on punishing you”

A moan. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but all you could do was moan and it went straight to his cock, throbbing inside your warm and tight walls, still not moving. As he glanced up, he met your teary eyes and opened mouth in an erotic portrait, he growled as he let go of the rest of his resistance and crashed his lips against yours in a desperate kiss. As your mouth was already agape when he did it, his tongue easily slipped inside and found yours, and you reached for the back of his head, your fingers curling on his black hair.

As he kissed you hungrily, he started moving, his cock almost leaving you entirely before pushing himself back inside, and the sensation of being full of him was so good that you could not control your moans. As he felt the vibrations coming from your mouth, Benjicot squeezed your breast hard and you were sure that would leave a mark – but you couldn’t care less.

As his pace grew a little faster, the pure pleasure replacing the pain of the stretch each time his hips met yours, he let go of your lips, glaring at your face with the squirms and sighs you let out. Even if his dreams were vivid, nothing would compare to having you like this – a mess of fabric, hair and red bruised lips – at the moment, the feeling of your walls always so tight around him and your soft skin on his hand made him grunt.

Your eyes went to his on that exact moment and you could swear that your walls squeezed around him at the sound. He placed his face on the crook of your neck as he started biting and placing kisses to the skin as a way to mark you, and started going down through your collarbone to the front of your chest before placing his lips to the nipple that wasn’t being stimulated.

The wet noises of skin slapping against skin and the feeling of both your nipples being teased made your eyes roll back in pleasure and now you didn’t even try to muffle your sounds anymore “Such a noisy kitten, taking me so well” He praised, lifting his head from your chest, and held your hips with both his hands, so strong that you now worried that you’d get bruises all over your body “You should be mine and not that Frey cunt”

With his firm grip on your hips, he pressed deeper into you, your back arching from the ground and trying to keep up with his movements “Please... Benji” Two of the only three words that you could pronounce at the moment – the third one being more – too caught up with pleasure to form a coherent phrase, and Benji laughed at that, full of pride for making the so beautiful and correct daughter of Amos Bracken look like a common whore “Do you want to be mine, kitten? Mine to fuck and use as I please?”

His words aroused you even more, his hoarse voice sending waves of heat straight to your cunt, and you tried to nod your head in affirmation, because that seemed like the only thing you could do at the moment “Use your words, kitten, I know you can do it” He moved one of his hands so he could brush past your clit and that made you gasp.

“Y-yes please, I want you, I want you Benji” As she nearly screamed, the man felt satisfied, his hunger for you only getting bigger with the way you moved your hips in time with his, your face making the most erotic expressions as your moans and repeated words sounded like an exclusive prayer for him.

“I’m going to fuck a baby in you, fill you with my seed so much you’ll be leaking for days, so your bloody father won’t have an excuse but to marry you to me” He grunted in between his words, moving faster and deeper as he assaulted your clit, and you started feeling a knot form inside of you, the pleasure becoming almost too much “Please, please” You didn’t even know what you were begging for, but only wanting this to never end.

“Yeah? Do you want to be my wife? To have your Bracken womb filled with Blackwood children? Your cunt to be used by a Blackwood cock? Is that what you want?” He leaned in, one of his hand still giving you pleasure, his head once again going to the crook of your neck as he grasped at your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he moved you so you could wrap your leg around his waist, and he heard you when you weakly repeated “Yesyesyes”

“So I’ll make sure you get until the last drop of my seed to, soon enough, you be swelling with my babe” He whispered into your ear as he pressed further to your clit and his pace soon enough was so fast you thought he would break you. Your moans got louder as you wrapped both your legs around his waist, the knot on your lower abdomen about to snap, and he looked at you before whispering “Go on, cum for me, kitten”

And that’s when it happened. The knot snapped within you as you flooded with pleasure, your whole body spasming as your walls grew impossibly tighter around him, milking him, and with just a few more thrusts he shoved himself as deep as he could inside you before he shot his load straight to your core, coating your womb. As he started coming down from his high, he captured your lips in a sloppy kiss and let most of his weight on top of you, which you didn’t care as his warmth and his skin on yours was all you wanted at the moment.

You let out a dissatisfied grunt as he removed his softening cock from your cunt, some of his seed spilling from you, and lied to your side, pulling you to his embrace “Did you really mean it? Marrying me?”

“Yes” You said, the warmth spreading across your face “Well, you filled me with your seed and the possibility of me getting pregnant is almost certain now. Marrying you is the right thing to do” You tried to be cautious with your words, but for the love of the Gods, he had just fucked you in the middle of the woods, caution was one thing you had abandoned long ago “Okay, I admit that since I first saw you in the assize I haven’t been able to remove you from my thoughts and I dreaded the day that the news of your possible engagement would come.”

You took a breath before finishing “We have nothing to do with each other, our families fucking hate one another, but every time I got inside Riverrun fortress, I hoped you’d be there” You said, absently moving your fingers through the skin of his chest, but did not dare to meet his gaze, for you were now as embarrassed as you could be.

“I am glad to hear that, for I have almost the exact same feelings as you. I ached for being able to get closer to you at the assize and to kiss you when I saw you standing next to the boundary. I almost went to Kermit Tully to ask him to propose a betrothal between us” He answered, his hand on the back of your head caressing through your hair. You lifted your head from his chest, his words making your heart flutter, and he leaned his head to capture your lips in a soft kiss, both your and his feelings pouring down into each other.

“But I must stop you from going straight to my father, for he would kill you before you would be able to ask to see him” One of your hands went to his cheek as you parted to breathe, only now noticing you left nail marks there, and stroke his skin.

“Oh, I do know that, for I would never take you back to Stone Hedge with your dress like this” He laughed when he saw your eyes widen at his words, remembering now of the tore skirt and bust of your dress, and quickly added “I’ll give you my cloak and we’ll go to Raventree Hall for you to change, after that we’ll go straight to Riverrun and ask Lord Tully to bless our union, for your father would never go against an order of his Lord Paramount”

“That sounds like a solid plan, not that bad for a Blackwood” You teased and he smirked “And you were not that bad for a Bracken” You gasped in false shock at his words, lightly slapping his shoulder, and he laughed “It will surely be good to have you as my wife, a good way to keep things interesting”

“I hope so, you Blackwoods are not usually that fun though” You bit your lower lip as you’d seen him arch his brows “Well, it depends on what fun you’re talking about, because at least in one kind of ‘fun’ I exceed expectations and you just proved it right”

"Shut up!" You exclaimed and he turned you again before kissing you.

“Don’t need to ask twice, my lady” He said and you kissed him again.

It could have not been the way you expected it to go, but one thing you could say: the Gods did grant you a way to free yourself from a marriage with someone twice your age, still uniting two people together, in hopes of a prosperous – and maybe more peaceful – future ahead.

So that's it! As I wrote it mainly for the smut part (oh god, what a good first impression) the plot part may be a little off, I'm sorry. Please, feel free to leave a note if you guys liked it and maybe soon I post another, a series this time.

#benjicot blackwood #benjicot blackwood x reader #bloody ben #benjicot #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #hotd imagine

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sluttylittlewaistenthusiast · 3 months ago

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╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine . fic recs m.list

@eupheme

⭒ Sugar Sugar

Your eccentric neighbor Wade may drive you a little up the wall… but, you’re willing to put up with him if it means he’ll introduce you to his new, grumpy-looking roommate.

⭒ Trouble Will Find Me

His eyes darken. Fingers pinching against your skin, as he adjusts his grip, “‘s a bad idea, sweetheart. Supposed to keep you out of trouble.”

@imaginedisish

⭒ Lover You Should've Come Over

You've been pining after Logan since you joined the X-Men, and you're convinced he'll never love you back. He’s obsessed with Jean—always has been. Or...maybe he's not.

@not-neverland06

⭒ Kid?

You walk in on Logan and Jean in a compromising position and feel your heart break. You really thought he loved you, you were so wrong. (Or were you?)

⭒ Nasty Dog

You'd thought you'd had a good thing going with Logan. You weren't officially anything to each other, but you were getting close. You truly saw a future with him, but he made it incredibly clear he did not feel the same

⭒ We're Dating?

You're on probation from the team and official house arrest after a little accident with your powers. Logan knows you're going stir-crazy so he takes you to the arcade for some fun. And then your friendship takes a weird turn.

@thebestandworstdayofjune

⭒ The Refrigerator Light

you are somehow unprepared to run into Logan while on the quest for a midnight snack... in the house you both live in.

@superhoeva

⭒ On His Six

Six months. Six months ago you’d started as the new counselor. Six months, and Logan can’t get you out of his head.

@little-miss-dilf-lover

⭒ Company

keeping LOGAN HOWLETT company when you notice him having a bad day

⭒ Cowgirl

LOGAN HOWLETT is the kind of guy that likes to fuck up into you during cowgirl.

⭒ Aftercare

thinking about sitting on logan’s lap after you’re done fucking.

@moonlight-prose

⭒ In Dreams We Rest

stuck in another universe and unsure of where he stands, logan expects things to even out as they always did. but when you cross his path and you have no idea who he is, he's in for a rude awakening.

@proxima-writes

⭒ Room For Rent

logan finds a new roommate.

@happy74827

⭒ Feels Like Home

You decide to take it upon yourself to become best friends with Wade’s new grumpy addition to the family (much to Logan’s dismay).

@ovaryacted

⭒ Logan + Overstimulation Drabble

@sunsburns

⭒ Guess

logan howlett loves to swear up and down that he’s too old to mess around with a pretty young thing like you. you’re out of his league in everything you do, from the way you can get up early in the morning and stay out late at night, stumbling back into your apartment in a fit of giggles, humming the last song that played at the club you were returning from.

@imaginedisish

⭒ Is It Casual Now?

I know baby nooo attachment, but we're...KNEE DEEP IN THE PASSENGER SEAT AND YOU'RE EATING ME OUT IS IT CASUAL NOW?

⭒ Liquid Smooth

A simple mission deep in a forest alone with Logan quickly gets out of hand when you just have to go and pick a flower...

⭒ Unchained Melody

You and Logan decide to go to Rogue and Remy's wedding together, but you don't know what together means. Logan helps to clarify...

@d1stalker

⭒ This is Ours

It's your first time back at your grandparents' farm in years, and while many things are the same, one thing is not: they've hired a new farmhand.

#logan howlett #wolverine #jumping on it bouncy castle style #logan howlett x reader #x men #logan howlett smut #logan howlett angst

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blindmagdalena · 4 months ago

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Center Stage in a Gilded Cage

18+ 3k. homelander x f!reader. pre-s1. stalking, kidnapping, imprisonment, forced relationship, slow burn, somnophilia, drugging, eventual smut. gif | AO3 | fanfic directory

Homelander was born with only one terrible poverty: loneliness. He's been starved of love his entire life, made sick by his hunger for it, but he believes you might have the cure. If you want to survive, you'll find a way to give it to him.

Homelander has never been able to understand people who bird watch. Of all the things a mundane person could do with their abysmally mediocre life, why devote what little free time they have to observing a creature even more dull than they themselves are?

Perhaps it's the gift of flight. By far, it is the ability of his that garners the most attention. Or maybe it's the power trip one experiences when observing something simpler and weaker than yourself for sport. The novelty of becoming endeared by their strange little behaviors and quirks. It's this line of thinking that eventually walks Homelander down the path of people watching. During his downtime, in the quiet moments he spends perched atop skyscrapers and apartment complexes, he finds himself watching the people miles below him scurry about like insects through a colony.

Over time, he begins to recognize regulars. People moving back and forth, day in and day out, no different than ants moving grains back and forth. He has to laugh. It's no wonder god abandoned man. Man is fucking boring.

Even the god they made for themselves thinks so.

To ease the monotony, he concocts little stories for the ones he recognizes. He imagines the kinds of lives they live outside of their commutes and the routines he observes. He names one of them Peter, and every day he invents a new reason Peter is yet again running late for his train. Because he's always late, Peter never stops for the woman selling street meat on the corner across from the station.

Homelander imagines that the meat she peddles is people, and that she's got her eye on that speedy little rabbit, Peter.

And then one day, he notices you.

It isn’t that you’re especially beautiful or noteworthy. Just like all the other busy little bees, you go about your same routine each and every day of the week. Sometimes you're in a rush, other times you enjoy your stroll. Regardless, you always find time to stop and give money to the same homeless man occupying one of the few alleyways protected by an awning. Sometimes you linger to chat, other times you can only stop long enough to drop something into his hands.

It isn't always money. Oftentimes you have food for him packed neatly into a little take-out box. Despite the packaging, it looks homemade. You always have a warm smile for him, even when you’re obviously frazzled.

To the rest of the world, this man may as well be fucking invisible, but here you are handing him a box of home cooked food like he's someone who matters. Homelander is the world's greatest hero, and yet some bum on the street is being fed with more love and attention to detail than he ever has.

It's a goddamn joke. More and more, it becomes apparent to him that you’re pathetically lonely. After a few days of observing you amongst the others, he starts trailing you more actively, forgetting all about Peter and his eventual butcher.

He wants to know more about you.

You live alone, working and cooking for only yourself and your stray pet. Sometimes you cook for your coworkers or the odd friend who stops by before leaving you alone all over again. He watches from a distance while you toil away, cooking more food than you’ll eat in a week for people you see for a fraction of each of your weekdays. It couldn’t be more obvious that you’re desperate for someone to take care of.

In a way, he can relate.

Maeve has been more distant than ever, choosing to engage him only when there’s a camera present. When it’s only the two of them, she just drinks until he barely recognizes her. Madelyn has begun her “fertility journey,” words that set his teeth on edge, and has barely had a real moment to spare him as of late. The rest of his team doesn’t help abate his loneliness either; Marathon is a washed up hack who can barely sprint these days, Lamplighter is only ever interested in clubbing, the Deep couldn’t hold a conversation in a bucket, and Noir is a mute.

And so he soothes his solitude with thoughts of you. When he isn’t with you, he daydreams about it, imagining what life would look like if your worlds were to intersect. The more he learns about you, the more vivid his fantasies become, and the more intensely he aches when he still finds himself alone in his bed at the end of each night.

It spurs him to visit you more and more.

One particularly warm summer night, you leave your window wide open. He takes it for the invitation it is, drifting towards it under the cover of dark. Your screen is loose and pops out noiselessly. Not exactly safe, even if you do live on the fifth storey.

You just never know what might come lurking out of the shadows.

Slipping into your living room, he’s met with the sound of white noise playing from your bedroom. Is it the sound of the streets below that bother you? You’d never hear it from his penthouse a hundred feet in the air. You could leave the windows open all you like and hear only the roar of the sky, not unlike the ocean waves your phone is poorly mimicking.

He could take you to the actual ocean. A beach house far away from the buzzing neon lights and incessant honking and revving of traffic. Walking through your apartment, he makes his way to your tiny kitchen. The one in his penthouse puts yours to absolute shame, and yet the only thing in it that’s ever been used is the fridge. He’s certain he’s never opened the double oven or so much as turned on the gas range. Meanwhile, your kitchen is riddled with use, each cupboard stuffed with mismatched cookware and the like. It smells of grease and spices and love.

The sad irony of it is almost too much to stomach. You don’t belong in this cramped little sardine can. You should be in a proper kitchen.

You should be cooking for him. The thought comes to him like a flash of genius. Of course. That’s the answer that will solve both of your little dilemmas. If he is a bird watcher then you’re a songbird snared in a net. It would be inhumane of him to leave you to die before you’re ever appreciated–ever seen–by anyone who matters.

You would worship him for rescuing you. His wealth and power would see each and every one of your material needs met with ease. You would never work for anything again. All you would ever have to concern yourself with was being loved and loving him.

He walks to your room with a hand pressed absently over his heart, cradling the anxious little bundle of nerves that have gathered there. He can tell by your breathing that you’re deep asleep, and yet he finds himself uncharacteristically nervous as he approaches.

His first time being so near to you after weeks of simply observing.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he steps towards you. The sound of him is masked by the ambient noise spilling from your phone, not to mention the fan you have pointed directly at your bed in a desperate attempt to save yourself from the summer heat.

You clearly weren’t built for this paltry life. Mary was no one before God chose her for greatness. Is that not what he’s about to do for you? It’s the will of a god that elevates you.

He kneels by your bedside, bringing himself face to face with you. Your breathing is even, each huff smelling faintly of mint. Your lips look soft, slightly parted in sleep. Everything about you is gentler, more relaxed than you ever are in the day to day grind of your life.

You could look like this all the time without it. He has the power to change your entire life with nothing more than a couple of numbers shifting from one space to another. Money has always been inconsequential to him, so abundant that it hardly means anything anymore. You, however, are ruled by it.

For the first time in his life, he recognizes the power in his wealth.

He brushes the tips of his gloved fingers along your cheek, down your jaw. He’s never used his hands so tenderly as when he traces your sleeping eyelids with his fingertips, imagining what dreams chase behind them and make them flutter.

You don’t stir.

Emboldened, he follows the curve of your bottom lip with his thumb, imagining how soft you would feel against the bare pad of his finger. Leaning in closer, he indulges in the warmth of your breath tickling his lips. You’re a sound sleeper, the thud of your resting heart beating steadily in his ear.

Closing his eyes, he bridges the distance between your lips, pressing his own lightly to yours. For a second, he thinks he’s woken you, that you’ve caught sight of him and your heart is drumming loudly in his ears. He draws sharply back, but sees that you’re still deep asleep, your features peaceful.

It’s his heart that’s racing, a thundering sound that blocks out every other noise in the room. He’s breathing shallowly, excited in a way he hasn’t been in a long time. There’s a flush crawling up his throat, and it’s at that moment he breaks out into a wide, wondrous smile.

There’s no question of it now.

He has to have you.

The plan to acquire you ends up requiring very little setup. If Madelyn cares why Homelander’s suddenly spending so much, she’s yet to make a comment.

Bitterly, he thinks it likely that she’s glad to see him distracted.

He starts preparation by appropriately stocking his kitchen; you’ll appreciate the supply of ingredients, he knows. The quality of what he obtains for you is leagues above what you can afford, as is the cookware. He buys you new clothes, jewelry, imagining every step of the way how you’ll look in each piece. How you’ll look as he takes them off. He’s seeking to upgrade your life in every conceivable way, like bringing a cat home from the pound and teaching it the meaning of luxury.

You’ll want for nothing. You’ll be so grateful to him. And you, the sweet and perfect little thing that you are, make yourself painfully easy to ensnare. You come home under the cover of dark like clockwork, perfectly oblivious to his approach. You’ve just managed to fish your keys out of your bag when his hand closes a kerchief over your mouth and nose, stifling your cry. His other arm slips around your waist, holding you steady. The cloth smells overly sweet, ether-like, and though that scent has no effect on him, you respond to it almost immediately. “Shhhhshhshh,” he soothes, letting the anesthesia do its job. Fuck, you feel good in his arms, back held tight to his chest, your delicate hands prying at his wrist as you kick, claw and scream–albeit muffled–into the cloth. He holds you with ease, keeping you close to his body, angling you in such a way that you won’t hurt yourself.

Despite your tenacity, you fight a losing battle. Your efforts grow weaker and weaker as you lose your grip on consciousness. He hushes you all the while, encouraging you. “That’s it, let it go. I’ve got you, I’ve got you...” Finally your head falls back against his shoulder, your face lolling into the crook of his neck, the rest of your body falling slack in his arms. He pulls the cloth away from your mouth, tucking it into your bag for now. He turns his head to yours, lips barely ghosting along your forehead. He takes in a deep breath of you, his eyes falling shut. Beneath the sickly sweet smell of the chemical mixture he knocked you out with, he can smell the remnants of your perfume. It’s not his favorite fragrance, but the underlying warm scent of you is intoxicating. He’ll collect whatever belongings you decide you want with you when he returns, if anything, but he doubts you’ll miss much. Your stuff will seem like a heap of rags and garbage by comparison. He’s looking forward to how the perfumes and lotions he’s bought you will smell on your skin, and how you’ll look in the clothing he’s picked for you. He adjusts you into a bridal carry in his arms and gently kicks off from the ground, holding you firm to his chest. The city is beautiful at night, a landscape of stars mirroring that of the sky above it. He’s always loved it here, and yet he’s shared it with a painful few.

Madelyn never lets him take her to the skies. Maeve had been wowed initially, but she had quickly grown disillusioned with it. With him.

You’ll be different. The trip back to his penthouse feels agonizingly slow, but he maintains a lesser pace to keep the wind from rashing your skin, savoring the featherlight weight of you in his arms at last. He lands deftly on his balcony, stepping through his open reinforced glass doors. After laying you down in his bed, he takes a moment to slip off your shoes, setting them aside. He eases your purse off of your shoulder, and places it on the nightstand. After sprawling a thin blanket over you, he takes a step back and puts his hands on his hips to admire the perfectly domestic scene he’s set.

Slowly, he breaks out into a smile. His bed swallows you up, makes you look small and lonely. He’s the missing piece, of course. He’s already looking forward to seeing himself complete the picture in the mirror above you. He imagines coming home to you like this, curled up in his–no, your shared bed, blanket pulled up over your shoulders to block the chill left by his absence.

Oh, how you’ll miss him when he’s gone.

You’ll have nothing and no one to concern yourself with except for him. No burdens, no dread, no stress. You’ll live in peace and security the likes of which you can scarcely imagine, spoiled rotten by the bounty of all that he is.

Neither of you will ever be lonely again.

Tilting his head slightly, he listens to the sound of you. Your breathing is shallow, the beat of your heart steady. Normal people don’t realize it, don’t have the capacity for it, but a heartbeat is as distinct as a fingerprint. Over the years, he’s learned to read them as such. He’s memorized yours. There isn’t much for him to do in the time that you’re asleep. He knows precisely how long you’ll be out; the anesthesia blend he gave you was straight out of Vought’s lab, and the dose he gave you leaves him with at least an hour before the two of you meet properly. The anticipation is enough to make him giddy. For all that Homelander knows about you, there is plenty he does not. The externals of your life have only provided him so much, but that will come in time. He didn’t bother with perusing your social media accounts, not being particularly proficient in them himself.

Besides, he wants getting to know you to be an organic experience.

He remembers to take your phone out of your bag and dispose of that rag he used to dose you while he’s at it. He unlocks your phone the way he’s seen you do a dozen times before, and spends some time ensuring that no one will be expecting you anywhere any time soon. All it takes is one quick email and you no longer have a job. A few social media posts later, you’ve informed anyone who might think of you that you’ll be enjoying an impromptu sabbatical in Europe.

The power of technology. After that, he pops your phone into the safe behind one of the dozens of portraits on his wall.

When he hears you starting to stir, renewed butterflies start fluttering about in his stomach. You have no idea that your entire life–no, your entire perception of reality–is about to change. No more dodgy commutes, no more living paycheck-to-paycheck. You’ll be free to admire the world from the lap of luxury–his lap, to be specific. You make a quiet moan, the chemical fog wearing off gradually. He moves swiftly to your bedside, primed with a welcoming smile, hands on his hips. “Riiiise and shine, sleepyhead,” he coaxes, leaning forward at the waist. Still disoriented from the drugs in your system, you stare at him as if you’re dreaming. He doesn’t blame you. In almost every other reality, there’s no explanation for the fact you’re seeing America’s favorite hero, the Homelander, standing above you. He knows the side effects of the drug have left a strange buzzing in your ears, and that your tongue likely feels heavy and cottony. He’s already got water for you on the bedside table. “Home…lander?” You manage to get out. His smile broadens. That’s the first time he’s heard you say his name. You look cute like this, bleary-eyed and needy. He’s grown accustomed to seeing you as a put together provider, self-sufficient and tending to the needs of those around you, but rarely your own. Seeing you unraveled feels like a secret intimacy for him alone. “The one and only,” he preens. Now that you’ve seen him posed valiantly by your side, he takes a seat on the bed next to you, reaching out to brush his gloved knuckles along your forehead. He attributes the slight flinch to your drug addled confusion. Poor thing. If he’d had an alternative to using a sedative, he would have preferred that.

Not that it matters now. You’re finally here.

( chapter two )

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander #homelander fanfiction #x reader #yandere x reader #what's up i'm finally publishing/finishing this story after teasing it for 2 years!#the first 4 chapters are all written so dw i will have a regular update schedule #prob a chapter every 2 weeks!#my wrtitng

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pegasusdrawnchariots · 9 months ago

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what the fuck. chapter 31???????

What. The Count of Monte Cristo is so good :0

#The Count of Monte Cristo #changed my mind this bitch sucks #next time‚ read to chapter 30. then fanfic #we went from betrayed avenging angel to slaver hanging out in his weed den until he feels like punishing his (grieving) ex #'I've always wanted a mute in my employ 😄' Edmond. what the fuck.#I was loving every moment up until now! idk what happened #maybe Dumas is doing an 'absolute wealth corrupts absolutely' type thing but. I doubt #the hoard of rare animal hides & rampant orientalism & slaves who 'enthusiastically obey my every command' were um.#not written w a critical eye #I know it's a bit much to expect Dumas to have read Said I know some books age badly I know it's meant to be a revenge fantasy I know I KNO #BUT. this is still my initial reaction #it was so enjoyable until now! I did tear up when I saw the lengths Dantes went to to take care of & support his friends #but then Mercedes never showed up & was assigned to the list of traitors. OK!!!!!#she literally did nothing but grieve u & attempt to save yr father from himself & adore u beyond reason #& u go 'frailty thy name is woman'#MATE. what did he expect?? that she would live a broke spinster waiting for him to maybe return after being blackbagged???#Caderousse told him multiple times that she was miserable now & Dantes apparently. did not listen to that. whatever #I have a sliver of hope though #since it's been a recurring theme that Dantes commits himself to a path & then balks & changes his trajectory based on new ideas or facts #that he'll talk to Mercedes as he did the others & abandon his ''''vengeance''''#but tbh it could go either way rn #Dumas... I'm watching u Dumas

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stoat-party · 1 year ago

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How Much Territory Are the Fallout Player Characters Actually Micromanaging: An Analysis

I did some amateur research to figure out which of the Fallout protagonists (specifically 3, NV, and 4) have a reasonable area of land to constantly traverse. I used Apple Maps to find the straightest possible walking path from a point on either end of the game map, then multiplied the north-south and east-west figures to get an approximate square mileage. Since none of the walking paths were completely straight, these numbers will all be a little higher than actual. BUT the game maps also don’t completely correlate to the real-life locations, so consider these numbers to be estimates.

The Commonwealth: Around 600 square miles. This is honestly pretty manageable, especially if you’re teleporting or helicoptering all over the place. It would be exhausting, but you could theoretically get across the map in a day with time to spare for questing.

The Capital Wasteland: Around 800 square miles. Fairfax is the halfway point; very few locations on the western half of the map actually correspond to anything in real life. The exception is the cavern Little Lamplight is based on, which would make the game map 100 miles long. The map definitely doesn’t extend that far into Virginia.

New Vegas: Kind of hard to calculate at this scale, but we’re looking at a little under 3000 square miles! Through. the Mojave. Desert. The Courier is really going to have to commit to a course of action before traveling, because they won’t be coming back for about a week.

If you’re a fanfic writer, remember that you don’t owe realism to anyone. BUT, if realism is something you care about for your writing, keep these distances in mind!

(Sequel: distance from game maps to DLCs)

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louisaskywalkerani · 6 months ago

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Whispers in the Dark, forbidden embrace.

Pairing : Anakin Skywalker x f!Reader

synopsis : anakin reassures you about your forbidden relationship in more ways than one.

CW : 18+, smut! minors DNI. no movement but, p in v penetration, cock warming.

an : ok this is my first fanfic i've ever written, i'm completely petrified tbh, i tried to do my best, if u can give me some advice, it would be super nice. enjoy this ig.. the end is also inspired by @ohcaptains !!

The dim lighting in the temple corridor casts long shadows. Anakin's footsteps echo softly as he approaches you, a determined look in his eyes. You've been avoiding him, knowing the danger of your connection. Tonight, there's no escape.

"Anakin, we shouldn't be here," you whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of unspoken emotions.

He steps closer, his presence overwhelming. "We can’t keep pretending, not anymore," he replies, his voice husky. "The Council doesn’t understand what we feel."

You look into his eyes, seeing the conflict mirrored in your own. "What if we're caught? The Council—"

"Screw the Council," he interrupts, his hands gently cupping your face. "I need you. We both know this is more than a fleeting desire."

Your breath hitches as his thumb brushes over your lips. "Anakin, we're risking everything."

"Some things are worth the risk," he murmurs, leaning in. His lips capture yours in a kiss that speaks of months of longing and suppressed passion. The kiss deepens, and you feel the warmth of his body against yours, his heartbeat pounding in sync with your own.

Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours. "Tell me you don’t feel the same, and I'll walk away."

You close your eyes, the truth undeniable. "I can’t," you admit softly. "I’ve tried, but I can’t."

With a relieved sigh, Anakin wraps his arms around you, holding you close. "Then let’s not fight it anymore."

—

The night is serene, stars twinkling above as if to guard your secret. Anakin spreads his cloak on the ground, inviting you to sit beside him. “Remember when we first met?” he asks, his voice a soft murmur.

You smile, the memory clear in your mind. “You were so arrogant,” you tease. “I thought you’d never take anything seriously.”

Anakin chuckles, his hand finding yours. “And you were so serious. Always following the rules.”

A comfortable silence settles between you, the bond deepening with shared memories. You both lie down on the cloak, looking up at the stars. "I used to think the stars held our destiny," you say, your voice barely audible.

"They still do," Anakin replies, his fingers intertwining with yours. "But we can choose our path."

The quiet of the night is broken only by the soft sounds of the temple gardens. Anakin turns to you, his eyes reflecting the starlight. "Do you ever wonder what life would be like if we didn't have to hide?" he asks, his voice tinged with sadness.

"All the time," you admit. "But the life we've chosen doesn't allow for what-ifs."

Anakin's grip tightens around your hand. "We could leave. Start a new life, far from here. No rules, no codes, just us."

You look at him, the sincerity in his eyes making your heart ache. "And what of our duties? Our responsibilities?"

"We've given enough," he says fiercely. "Isn't it time we lived for ourselves?"

The temptation is strong, the vision of a life with Anakin almost too beautiful to resist. But the weight of your commitments anchors you. "I don’t know if I can."

Anakin sighs, pulling you closer. "I can't lose you," he whispers. "Not now, not ever."

"You won't," you promise, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "We'll find a way to make this work."

The night stretches on, filled with whispered words and tender touches. As dawn approaches, you both lie entwined, the weight of your choices pressing down but the warmth of your connection offering solace. For now, in this moment, you are together, and that’s all that matters.

You lay there, enveloped in the warmth of each other’s embrace. The temple gardens, usually so serene and quiet, now seem to pulsate with the forbidden energy of your bond. The leaves rustle gently in the night breeze, almost as if they are whispering your secrets.

Anakin strokes your hair gently, his fingers tracing patterns that send shivers down your spine. “I’ve always admired your strength,” he says softly. “You’ve kept us hidden so well, even when it must have torn you apart.”

You sigh, nuzzling closer to him. “It hasn’t been easy,” you admit. “Every time I see you, I have to fight the urge to run into your arms. But I’ve never regretted it. Not for a moment.”

His grip tightens around you, as if he fears you might slip away. “I want to show you something,” he says suddenly, sitting up. “Come with me.”

Curious, you follow him through the winding paths of the garden until you reach a small, hidden alcove. The moonlight filters through the leaves, casting a mystical glow over everything. Anakin kneels and presses a hidden switch, revealing a small passageway.

“How did you find this?” you ask, amazed.

“I have my ways,” he replies with a wink. “Come on.”

The passage leads to a secluded chamber deep within the temple, one that even you, with all your knowledge of the place, had never discovered. It’s filled with ancient artifacts, relics of Jedi history, and texts that seem almost forgotten by time.

“I come here to think,” Anakin says, lighting a small lantern that casts a warm glow over the room. “It’s a place where I can be myself, away from the pressures of the Council and the weight of my duties.”

You walk around, marveling at the treasures surrounding you. “It’s incredible,” you whisper. “Like a sanctuary.”

Anakin smiles, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “I wanted to share it with you. A place that’s ours alone.”

You turn in his embrace, your eyes meeting his. “Thank you,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “It means more than you know.”

For a moment, you simply stand there, holding each other, surrounded by the silent witnesses of a bygone era. Then, with a gentle tug, Anakin leads you to a small nook filled with cushions. You sit down together, and he pulls you into his lap, his lips finding yours once more.

He breaks the kiss and smiles up at you, taking in every curve of your body, his hands brushing along your thighs as he drinks in the sight of you.

“You're so beautiful... even more so up close.” he whisper

He reaches up, his hand cradling your cheek as he kisses you again. As the kiss deepens, he pulls you closer, his hand sliding lower along the curve of your waist. His touch is gentle at first, but as his passion grows, he holds you tighter against him.

Anakin's tongue explores your mouth as his hands roam over your body, tracing the curves of your hips. His touch is electric, sending shivers down your spine as it ignites the fire burning within you.

You moan softly into his mouth as you feel his fingers brush across your skin, their touch leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Your hands explore his back, feeling every muscle as they clench and relax beneath your fingertips.

Anakin breaks away from you briefly, trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone. His teeth graze against your skin, causing goosebumps to rise in their wake.

“Ani... what are we doing...?” You breathe, biting your lip as his lips find a sensitive spot on your neck.

Anakin chuckles, his breath warm against your skin as he leaves a trail of kisses along your jaw.

"I think you know, love.." He murmurs, his hand slipping under your chin to tilt your head back and expose your neck to him.

“I want you,” he whispers in your ear, his voice low and husky.

His words send shivers down your spine, and you can't help but arch your back, pressing yourself closer to him. Your body aches for his touch, but you’re thankful that he can’t see the way you clench your eyes closed.

Regardless, he can sense you tightening your grip on the back of his head. As you shift up against his thigh, the heat from your underwear burns against him.

He is aware that you are hesitant.

“It can be like i told you last time.” He stutters, licks his lips, and struggles to get the words out of his throat.

“Just- sit on it.” he managed to say. “If you don’t want to move it’s alright love, just wanna be inside you.”

He buries his head into the crook of your neck and kiss it carefully to not leave any marks.

“Anakin..” You whisper softly as you struggle not to close your eyes to his touch.

He pulls away from your neck and looks up at you.

“What? Are you afraid?”

Your eyes roll slightly “No i’m not afraid.”

A slight smile appears at the corner of his lips. “Then what is it?”

You squint at his attitude. “Nothing. I- I just won’t move.”

He nods and slowly kisses your neck, his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. “Alright, love.”

You shift back so he can pull his trousers down to his knees, and you take his cock in your hand, feeling him melting at your simple touch.

“Love,” he whispers, his voice deep and rough. “I want to be inside you. Now.”

You feel a surge of heat between your legs, and you can't help but moan in response. You've never felt so aroused, so completely lost in the moment.

You push your underwear to the side, and you lift yourself to sink onto him as Anakin breathes “Take it easy love, don't want you to hurt yourself.”

You halt. To avoid pushing him inside of you all at once and hurting yourself, you grip his shoulder to steady yourself.

You push against him once more, and the tip of his cock nudges between your folds, forcing an ache to shoot through your clit and make you dizzy. You pause as a slow burn builds in your thighs, you clench down in an effort to relieve the pain.

“Fuck,” Anakin grunts as he wraps his arm around the back of your hips, “Lemme,” he mumbles, and he flexes gently his hips up, slowly feeding his cock into your soaked core and kiss your neck again to distract you from the potential pain.

You're gasping for air, you moan softly in pleasure, the heat of his mouth on your skin igniting the fire within you. You've never felt anything like this before, and you never want it to end.

When you finally sink to the depths, the pair of you moan out loudly in unison.

Anakin buries his face in your neck, “Now, don’t move. Just don’t move.” He grunts once again.

You nod a little too vigorously, which creates a slight movement in your hips, and because of that you feel Anakin pulse from inside of you.

he manage laughs falsely and grips your hips more firmly “What did i say?”

“S- Sorry” You whisper as you feel his wet lips brush against your breasts which makes you throw your head back.

“If you move again,” Anakin begins to say, panting, “I'll leave the Jedi order and do what I should have done a long time ago.”

Anakin always wanted to fuck you properly and it drove him crazy not to be able to do it.

“D - Don’t try to tempt me, Anakin” You managed to say, saying in your head to yourself,

Don’t even move.

But Anakin brings you out of your thoughts by licking gently your neck, making you clench around him, causing him to groan deep against your neck.

“I'm warning you, this is the last time.” He says, gritting his teeth and gripping your hips even more firmly, but not enough to hurt.

“It’s all your fault this time” You whimper as you tighten your grip on his shoulders.

“Just stay still,” He said firmly, concentrating on not moving and coming inside you.

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