#and you can no longer follow a reblog trail backwards

[asleepinawell]

the fuck did they do. why would you move the tags button. why would you put something else in its place so people click on the wrong thing every time. I hate change I'm dying blood is pouring out my eyes and ears this is the worst thing that has ever happened to me in my life etc etc ad nauseam

[cevansbrat0007]

Night Routines

Summary: You get a little creative helping Andy with his nightly skincare routine.

Warnings: Smut, Hand Job, Cursing, Fingering (mentioned), Fun with Lotion, Minors DNI

A/N: Written for @writer84. Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. Partially written on my phone, so all mistakes are my own. Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

__

Steam fills the bathroom, temporarily clouding your vision when you and your man finally emerge from the shower. Andy secures a towel around his waist before holding out one to you, which you readily accept. With a chuckle, he hauls your small frame against his hard body, his damp chest hair tickling your bare skin.

"Be good." You playfully scold, rising on your tiptoes so that you can gently peck his soft, full lips. Once. Twice.

"I thought I was." He growls as his big hands find your ass, palming your cheeks. “At least that’s what you kept screaming in the shower a few minutes ago.”

“Oh my God.” You mumble, rolling your eyes before trying to pull away. “Stop it.”

“Why?” Andy slowly walks you backwards toward the bathroom sink. “I distinctly recall you saying it over and over again while I was busy finger fucking my little pussy.”

“I - I, um…” You stammer out, trying to find the right words. Which was unusually hard since you were still coming down from the amazing orgasm he’d just wrung from you. 

“You, err, um, what?” He teases, leaning down to trail his wicked tongue along the curve of your throat. “What’s got my baby tripping over her words like this? Too many orgasms, or not enough?”

Oh, definitely the second one.

“Not enough.” You whisper, feeling your cheeks burn as your teeth go to nibble at your bottom lip. “It’s never enough with you.” 

Andy lifts you then, making you gasp, as he sets you on the vanity. You watch as his eyes darken, before his arms go to position themselves on either side of you - caging you in. It never failed to turn you on when he used his powerful body to demonstrate just how big he was compared to you.

Whether it was simply picking you up to move you out of the way or carrying you around the house, you were always aware of his superior strength. And, oh God, when the man decided he was in the mood to wrestle...

The thought itself is enough to have you squeezing your thighs together.

“You telling me the truth, little one?” One finger finds its way under your chin, forcing you to hold his gaze.

“Uh huh. And I want more.” You breathe as your heartbeat quickens in your chest. “I just need to finish getting ready for bed first. Wanna help me?” Your man nods eagerly, his expression letting you know that he is practically putty in your hands right now.

Ask and you shall receive. That definitely seemed to be Andrew Barber’s motto, both in and out of the bedroom.

“Hand me my lotion, please. I need that red jar right over there.” You point to a spot located just behind him. 

“Anything to get my greedy girl ready for bed.” He murmurs before turning to follow your instructions. As soon as he does, your hand snakes out to grab at his towel, giving it a sharp yank.

Not that it fazes him any. Now standing there stark naked and proud, he makes a show of bending over to fetch the item you requested.

Fuck, you wanted to take a bite out of that fine ass.

Andy returns to you then, handing over the tub before resuming his previous position in front of you. You knew that he loved watching you apply your favorite lotions and creams all over your skin. Sometimes he even sweetly offered to help - which usually made the entire process take much, much longer than it actually should.

But, what your man didn’t know was that you were about to use this opportunity as a teaching moment. You were going to gently remind him that even the district attorney for the City of Boston could stand to use a quality moisturizer now and again.

Dry skin was a bitch no matter who you were. 

Graciously accepting the proffered offering, you twist off the lid before giving it to him to hold. 

“You know why I love this one as much as I do, Andy Bear?” You ask as you begin smoothing the lightly scented cream over your arms. 

“Because it makes you smell absolutely delectable?” Andy purrs, leaning down to nip at your jaw. “Hurry up and finish getting ready, baby. You’ve got me so hard I’m afraid I’m about to pull something.”

You’re briefly distracted from your task long enough to confirm that he is, in fact, serious. And very, very hard. Your wide eyes fixate on your Big Man’s impressive cock as a bead of precum wells up, dotting the tip of the swollen mushroom head. 

And fuck if the sight doesn’t make your mouth water.

“No…” You try again, shaking your head as you attempt to refocus. “Because it leaves my skin feeling so soft and silky smooth. Why else do you think you have such a hard time keeping your hands off me honey?”

“Because I’m fucking addicted to you?” He muses before taking your lips in a hot, open-mouthed kiss. “Because I love the feel of you in my arms?” Another kiss, coupled with a sensual flick of his tongue. “Because my girl’s got a pussy that grips me like a fucking vice? I dunno, take your fucking pick.” 

“Okay, okay.” You plant a hand on his chest to stave off his advances. “Maybe so, but the point I was trying to make was that I think you might be able to use some of this too.” Clearly only half listening, Andy’s head dips again in an effort to recapture your lips.

“Pay attention, Andrew!” You squeal, wanting him to understand. Which was hard to do when you were also busy dodging him at the same time. “This one right here contains a serum that promotes skin elasticity and –”

Still not listening, his hands go to remove your towel. Which, in all honesty, was probably his way of helping you along. He slowly slides it down your body to reveal the bare flesh beneath as the cool air makes your nipples pebble.

“Oh, I am, Y/N. Very, very close attention.”

He lifts your left breast, hefting the tempting weight in his palm. His thumb moves to trace a circle around your sensitive areola, sending sparks coursing through you from head to toe. And then you watch as his luscious mouth slowly begins to descend so that he can –

Okay, no. Focus girl!

“Thank you, honey.” Giggling, you go to slide off the edge of the sink. At this point, trying to educate your man about the importance of having a proper skincare regimen was kind of a lost cause. “But something tells me that you’re just not hearing me.”

“C’mon, baby girl.” Andy groans, before poking out his bottom lip. Your handsome man was so cute whenever he resorted to pouting. “Just let me have you. Wanna bury myself between your thighs so I can taste all that sweetness you promised me this morning” He goes to grab your hips, prompting you to dance away as you move behind him. 

Sporting a devilish grin, you dip your fingers into the fresh smelling cream. You take a moment to rub it between your hands before reaching around to slather it across Andrew’s taut abs. Closing your eyes, you let yourself enjoy the way his muscles bunch and flex beneath your gentle ministrations. 

“Doesn’t that feel good?” You ask, silently noting the catch in his throat as your wandering hands skim lower. “Men need lotion too, you know. Can’t have my beautiful Andy Bear out in these streets looking ashy.” 

You crack open an eye as you reach for more cream. “I asked you a question, baby boy.” You remind him as your voice drops to a sultry purr. “Answer me, please.” He lets out sharp intake of breath when you wrap a slippery hand around his shaft, leisurely pumping his thick length up and down. 

“Fuck, sweetheart!” He grunts, his shoulders hunching as you continue to work him. “Ah, goddamnit! Don't -"

Don't stop? Wouldn’t dream of it.

Twisting your wrist with practiced ease, you swirl the pad of your thumb across his now weeping crown. It blends easily with the creamy slickness of the lotion, only adding to the fluidity of your strokes. 

“You feel so good in my hands, Andy. Don’t you think?” You love the way his big body shudders as you continue to play with him. It’s not often that you got to be in control with this man, so when it did happen, you had to take full advantage.

Especially when that man happened to be Bad Boy of Boston.

“Uh huh.” Comes another grunt, this one sounding more pained than the first. “I - I wanna cum inside you, baby girl.” 

“Mm…” You hum as your other hand goes to cup his heavy sac. “But I wanna see you cum like this.” 

He slams his fist down on the counter as you continue to fondle his balls while jerking his cock. You can practically feel him pulsing beneath your hand, letting you know just how close he is to release.

How desperate.

“Wanna watch you cum all over my hand.” You increase the pace, taking pleasure in the fact you were the one making Andrew Barber come apart at the seams. “Wanna know you’ll remember to lotion up after each and every shower.” 

He cries out when you sink your teeth into the blade of his shoulder, before trailing a line of kisses down the curve of his spine. 

“Ah, god! Yes!” Andy’s hips move to match the rhythm you’ve set, his ardent thrusts now timed with the intimate motion of your hand. “If you don’t stop I’m gonna – gonna – fuck!”

“Do it, baby” You hiss. “Cum for me, Andrew.” Knowing that he’s beyond close, you change tactics so that you can play with his perineum, using your nails to lightly tease the sensitive spot just behind his sac.

A heated blush fans its way across his broad chest and back, his entire body beginning to shake as he approaches his impending orgasm. 

“Open your eyes and give it to me, baby boy.” You urge, eager to witness his explosion. “Want it all.” 

Another fevered stroke, followed by a skilled flick of your wrist is all it takes to send Andy tumbling over the edge. Throwing his head back, a feral groan escapes his throat as the trembling takes over. His angry cock spasms in your grip as thick ropes of hot, white hot cum hit your hand before splashing onto the surface below. 

But you don’t stop, oh no. You keep going, determined to milk every single drop from him as his big body continues to shudder his way through his incredible orgasm. 

Nuzzling his shoulder, you lean around him to rinse off your hands before drying them on a nearby hand towel. 

“Don’t you feel better, Big Man?” You coo as you return to the task of quickly applying lotion to the rest of his tempting physique. “Now that we’ve soothed all of that gorgeous, thirsty skin?”Only when you’re done do you allow yourself to step back and admire your handiwork.

All of it.

A growl rumbles deep in his chest as he turns to peer back at you. You had no doubt that you had awoken the beast within. Even now as he stands there recovering, you already knew that he was in the midst of plotting his revenge. 

“Swear to God, as soon as I get the feeling back in my legs I’m gonna wear you out.” The force of his snarled promise has you taking a small step towards the door. A dark chuckle leaves his lips as he scrubs a hand across his face. "Oh, sweetness, the things I'm gonna do to you..."

“Sure you will, honey.” You respond with a nonchalant shrug. He quirks a brow in your direction, letting you know that he isn't overly fond of your tone. “Just be sure to clean up your mess first.” 

You toss the soiled towel at him before pinching his ass and darting out of the bathroom in search of refuge. Because while you couldn’t be sure that your lesson was effective...

Your man now knew just how committed you were to helping him develop a proper fucking night routine. 

Lucky bastard.

END

[dollwritesarchive]

i need a sadist and you’re the epitome : ML

fandom american horror story

featuring pre apocalypse!michael x ward!reader (f)

rating NSFW / MINORS DNI

content warning soft!dark!michael, somnophilia, fingering, suggestions of mistreatment from others (up to interpretation), stockholm syndrome, mentions of parricide and canon typical violence, possessive!michael, he may or may not say some unsettling things

summary he’s killed for you, baby, who else can say that?

word count 1.4k / mini musing

attention not proofread ofc. thank you to every one who voted for this fic! also huge thankies to @agentofbarnes for helping me decide what to go with, you’re the best, zee 💗 do not translate or repost. reblog & give feedback !

art.

you were art.

“So beautiful.” splayed upon a canvas of obsidian sheets, appearing as if you’d fallen unconscious the moment your delicate head kissed the satin, black pillow. one arm bent at the elbow, flung backward, so the back of your hand caresses the same parallel to your silken cheek. while Michael would much prefer nothing obscure his the visage of your naked body, the nightie that swaddled you did so poorly; it was the wrong size. the fabric was bunched up like ruby waves about your waist and the neckline was askew, your breasts exposed and nipples erect in the heated atmosphere. Michael could see beads of perspiration like diamonds glistening against your skin as you slept, and the tips of his wicked digits sweep them away from one thigh as the fingers dance over the expanse of vulnerable flesh. “Beautiful and fragile.”

Michael was propped on his side and watching you with crystalline hues so focused on every detail of you, so silent and in your trance that he could hear the heart beating in your chest. feel the rhythmic inhale, pause, exhale and pair it with the display of the rising and falling. not another sound, he even found himself holding his breath for a moment so as not to wake his precious ward. his muse. his art.

as the tips of his fingers finally disappear under a flimsy strip of crimson fabric, your body reacts upon the contact. digits following the seam of your nether lips, only to crest over the unsuspecting and ill guarded clitoris and watch a subtle twitch at the corner of your lips, the way your brows want to knit together. “Even in your sleep, your body is desperate for me, isn’t it, my kitten?” his own voice is hardly recognizable, husky and low and only for you to hear in your subconscious. “You’ve given yourself to me so completely that it no longer matters if you’re conscious, you will always be my willing, little pet.”

his mind is awash with the things he’s done.

the things he’s done to you, since you became his. desecration of your body and soul in every sense of the word, the reinvention of the idea of love in your fragile psyche. the soft caresses and the hard kisses. every sound you could make while beneath him and the way he’d force them from your fragile, little body and relish when you were too broken or exhausted to move afterwards.

the things he’s done for you, since he’s fallen in love with you. wiped your tears when you awoke with cheeks wet from terror, held you close to his body, close to his blackened heart. gave you a new life, one that he would allow no sadness, nor pain, nor fear to seep into. protected you from an unforgiving world that was much too keen on chewing you up and spitting you out.

Michael leans forward to rest his lips against your clavicle, leaving a trail of fiery kisses along the bone when his forefinger parts your dampening folds and pushes into the familiar warmth of your interior. the invasion elicits a soft whimper from your parted lips, and he exhales against your skin, eyelids fluttering shut to revel in the feeling of you, the clenching of your walls around his finger as he plumbs your depths, the quickening of your heartbeat and your sweet, little sounds. with his manhood hardening by the second, simply from pleasuring you, he angles himself against your side, hips rocking so that he may stimulate his erection by rubbing it against you so both hands are free to roam.

a second digit joins the first inside of you, pumping deep and slow, and a subtle curve in your back paired with a broken grunt lets him know when he’s hit a sweet spot. he moans your name against the skin your chest, his tongue lazing out to swirl about the expanse of it, his free hand gliding over your belly and downwards to attack your now engorged clitoris slow, with rough strokes until your thighs start to quiver. he has a hard time holding back a smile, gritting his teeth as he grinds himself into your warm thigh and groans in delight, “are you not even going to wake up to cum, pet?” he asks, with a sinful and delighted edge to his whisper, “or perhaps you’re dreaming of me. You can feel my fingers deep inside of your little cunt, but your subconscious is telling you that it’s your lord’s cock sliding in and out of you, pushing you to euphoria.”

your lips twitch again, and a tiny murmur dies on the tip of your tongue, as if you were trying, in your sleep, to ask him for something. he chortles, weakly, pressing his thumb against your button, and rests his open mouth against your breast, the hard bud encased in warmth. pulling on it with his teeth, he feels your muscles spasm, and hums in approval. “Mm, you’re trying to ask for my permission, yes? Because even when you’re asleep, you haven’t forgotten the rules— you don’t cum until your lord allows it.” his fingers curl at the deepest point inside of you, caressing a bundle of nerves that very few people would ever find, and you come undone around him. he watches, starstruck, as your orgasm washes over your unconsciousness, and struggled moans and ragged breaths spill from your quivering lips like warm honey. “Such a good girl,” he whispers, littering your chest in his kisses, “I’m afraid I’ll have to wake you soon, because my cock is throbbing, and I’m afraid if I don’t wrap you around it, I’ll go insane—“

just then, amidst the symphony of your nirvana, the door to the bedroom opens. Michael’s brows furrow. three men, clad in black cloaks enter in unison. “My Lord,” one takes a careful step out of the line towards the bed.

“Shh.” Michael hisses, glancing over his naked shoulder at them, before gesturing to you. he didn’t have to say it, but all three of them knew it: were they to wake you, they would pay.

he gulps around a knot in his throat, hands fumbling in front of him, and bows his head. “I’m sorry— to interrupt, but…” the man takes a moment to look at his colleagues, “it’s done.” he whispers. “They’re dead.”

Michael’s eyes had averted and were now fixated on you, again. you were calm, for now, but your body still shuddered, like the ocean directly after a fierce storm. his hand flees to caress your cheek, where he feels the warmth of a blush upon it. “Did you make sure they suffered?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good.” Michael mutters, sapphire gaze coruscating over every inch of your sedated countenance.

clearing his throat, one of the other men steps forward, seeming more nervous than the first. “My Lord? Are you sure this was a wise decision?” Michael pauses, turning to glare at him as if to dare him to explain further. the man’s eyes widen, and he quickly takes a step back, “I just mean that— you already have the girl, why go through this trouble just to kill her parents? I don’t see how it benefits our cause to—“

“Have you ever been in love?” Michael interjects.

the man looks temporarily stunned. “I’m sorry?”

“In love. Have you ever been in love?” Michael continues, eyes adrift back to your face, as if each moment away was an eternity, “I don’t mean the fairytale type of love that you see on those cheesy fucking movies, or the way you love your family, that’s forced. You’ve no choice. I mean the kind of love that takes hold of your heart and squeezes until it breaks. The kind of love that you would do anything to keep, kill anyone that would stand in the way of you keeping that love.” the men exchange uncertain glances with each other, and Michael brushes back a flyaway tendril from your cheek. “She is mine. Anyone that could complicate that fact isn’t allowed the privilege of breath anymore. The murders were necessary,” he tilts his head, gazing upon you fondly, “but the pain you inflicted… that was my own, personal vengeance. They’ve done enough to deserve all that you gave them and more.” leaning forward, he kisses your supple tiers, before whispering upon them. “I will tear to shreds any reason for her to leave me, because I’m in love with her. I will cut the heart out of any person who believes they can separate us, and I will present it to her on a silver platter.”

the men seem less than convinced, and the leader speaks up again, “how can you be sure that she will understand these gestures, My Lord? You say they’re out of love, but you’re destroying her world.”

“I will make her understand.” Michael snaps, glaring at him. “I will be her world from now on. She can never leave my side, ever. She’s mine.”

[thegirlintheswivelchair]

Deep, Disastrous Love || H.H

Pairings: fwb!harry holland x crewmate!reader

Summary: You decided to amp up the meaning of a booty call and surprise Harry at the club. Little do you know, Harry’s struggling with how to deal with your fwb set up.

Wordcount: +3.2k

Warnings: SMUT (like so much of it y’all…it’s pwp), thigh riding, oral fem receiving, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks!!!), super brief mention of alcohol, Angst (it gets angsty folks...sry), readers a tease and in complete denial, some swearing, and overuse of ellipses, aand I wanna say that’s it. (let me know if I missed anything)

A/N: Ok, so this turned into its own thing real quick. I meant for this to be a small little smut fic I could throw out there while I’m slowly making progress on everything else I’m writing! Jokes on me, this turned into its own monster and essentially I made pwp...lol I tried to do something here that I’m not entirely sure if it worked characterwise. So any feedback would be greatly appreciated! Ok, much love, and thanks for reading, liking, and reblogging!

MINORS DO NOT READ. +18 ONLY! THANK YOU!

----

The moment the elevator doors shut, your chest began to tighten as a certain anticipation and fear worked its way around your lungs. Butterflies raged in your stomach, and you felt your heartbeat pick up. 

You had never done this before. You had never surprised Harry. Not at a club, a party, heck you’d never even surprised him at his own door. It had always been a texted booty call or a drunken shag after a night out. That was the way your relationship worked when you weren’t just hanging out as friends. 

This, however...This was new territory. This was you showing up uninvited, purposefully teasing him, and hoping he’d take the bait.

You turned towards the mirrors that surrounded you and looked yourself over. The makeup you’d chosen wasn’t exactly dramatic, but it was smokier and sexier than you usually wore it, and like any fantasy you’ve had about a night like tonight, you rocked a deep, delicious red on your lips. 

Your hands found their way to your dress as you smoothed it out over your figure, making sure everything was perfect. It’s black fabric clung to your body, accentuating the right curves while forgiving others. It was the type of dress that made you feel invincible, and tonight you needed that.

Seeing the numbers steadily tick up to the rooftop where the club was, you turned back towards the doors and took a deep steadying breath in just as the last chime rang. 

Showtime.

The vibrations from the music thrummed through your body as you made your way towards the bar. Your eyes were already scanning the place, looking for the mop of curly red hair you were so familiar with. You didn’t see him until you had gotten your drink--courtesy of a gentleman down the way--and were sipping on it.

Harry was surrounded by a few of his friends, drinking what looked like his usual beer, and sporting a white t-shirt and jeans. You noticed he’d cut his hair. It was shorter, much shorter, than the last time you saw him. His curls were still there, but away from his forehead, no longer loose and running into his eyes. It was a clean cut, and there was something about the new look that had you biting your lip just thinking about what you might do to him tonight, given the chance.

Having found him, you knocked back the rest of your drink and started making your way towards the part of the dance floor closest to Harry and his friends. 

Alcohol and your focus on giving a show kept the self conscious feelings of dancing alone away, and the more you got into the music, the better you felt and the freer you moved. 

It wasn’t long before you started attracting attention. You felt eyes on you, saw the looks some people were giving you, watched the calculations being made for how they would approach you. 

But there was only one pair of eyes that mattered to you. When they finally found your figure, it was like fire licked over your skin. Starting at your feet, gliding up your legs, and wrapping around your torso the flames followed where his eyes traveled. 

You saw out of the corner of your eye, his whole body turning towards you, his tongue darting out and licking his lips. A smirk played on the corner of his mouth as his expression darkened. You could tell he knew what you were up to, and the thought alone added fuel to the fire burning across your body.

Not wanting your game to end just yet, you made it seem like you hadn’t noticed. You turned away from him, still dancing, pretending to be lost in the music. Your hips swayed, and you moved to the rhythm until you felt a pair of warm hands slide across your waist and pull you against a firm chest.

The hands guided you to keep moving as a low murmur made its way to your ears, “Didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

You smirked and murmured back, “Thought I’d spice up the meaning of a booty call.”

You felt his chest rumble as he chuckled, “Spice is right. Showing up here looking like this...” His voice trailed off as his hands slowly slid up and down your sides, and you felt the ghost of a kiss on your neck. The fire that followed his touch was beginning to pool at your core, and you wondered how long you could keep the act up.

“You like it?” you asked as you grind into him, your smirk growing when you heard him hiss. 

Like it? Was that even a question? Harry had seen you look sexy before, but it was never for him. Tonight though, you’d come here looking drop dead gorgeous, playing for his attention, and you ask if he likes it? If he said that didn’t make his heart do a somersault, he was lying through his teeth. Not that he would admit this to you. You were just playing a game...Thankfully, games he could do.

“Yeah, I do.” He said, his voice getting somehow lower than before.

He spun you around so your chests were together, and you looked into his eyes. Their usual warm brown was already darkening, and the glint you saw in them made your panties wet. “Why don’t we go somewhere I can show you how much I like it?”

A smile grew on your lips despite yourself, and you nodded, biting your lip to suppress the grin just a little bit.

----

Harry barely had you through his hotel room door before he was pushing you against the wall. One hand was on the back of your neck, the other dead bolted the door as he crashed his lips into yours. His body pressed against you, your chests moving together as you breathed each other in. He smelled of beer and something musky that you’d always attributed to being him. The familiarity comforted you and sent your heart racing, but that might have been from Harry’s wandering hands.

“This is a new dress isn’t it?” he mumbled in between kisses.

You nodded, “I bought it just for tonight. Just for you to take off.”

Harry moaned at your answer. He wanted nothing more than to rip the dress off you, but he didn’t want the night to end that quickly, not when you were in his arms again, and certainly not when you looked like this.

“Such a naughty girl…” He murmured before his tongue licked along your bottom lip, asking you to open. You gladly let him in as he slotted his knee between your legs, pressing against your core. Sparks erupted in your belly as you melted into the feeling of him all over your body, your arms encircling his neck, one of your hands finding his hair, the other pulling him closer.

Lost in the moment, tongues exploring each other, you almost missed the way his thumb caressed your jaw in the heat of it all. The gentle touch shot to your core, and your hips involuntarily thrust against Harry’s thigh, a little whine coming from the back of your throat.

You felt Harry smirk into the next few kisses as he slid his thigh back and forth underneath you, making you whimper as he gave you the friction you wanted.

Both his hands dropped to your legs, traveling up and under your dress until they stopped at your ass, massaging and squeezing as his leg kept moving against you.

He broke away from the kiss to look at you grinding on his leg, his own cock hardening at the sight. Your head was thrown back against the wall, lipstick starting to smear over your swollen lips, and eyes closed as you felt the pleasure building in your stomach, “Fuck. Look at you in this dress, riding my leg, making a mess of it.” He said softly, licking his lips as he thought about tasting you. Oh god did he want to taste you. He wanted to fucking eat you, make you squirm and come all over his mouth.

He felt your legs starting to quiver, and he leaned forward, kissing and nipping his teeth up your neck until he reached your ear where his voice whispered, “You’re already close aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” You gasped, unable to say much else as the knot in your stomach tightened.

“Go on then, lemme see you fall apart on my thigh.” Harry said as he kissed along your jaw, his mouth swallowing your moans as he reconnected your lips  just as you came. 

Even as the pleasure flooded your system, you knew it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you needed more. 

“Harry,” you breathed into his lips, his hands beginning to roam your body again, finding the zipper on your dress and tugging.

“Mmm?” He hummed as his lips moved to your shoulder, sucking at the soft skin while his hands slid the dress straps off your shoulders. The dress pooled at your feet, and all that covered you now were Harry’s arms and the flimsy lace thong already ruined by the night's activities. 

“I want you,” You said. The ache was building in your cunt again as you tugged on the hem of his shirt, wanting to get rid of all his clothes so you could actually fuck.

“Needy tonight, huh?” He teased as he pulled away, letting you remove his shirt. He stopped you as you made to undo his pants, his hand covering yours. You looked up at him, your mouth forming a pout, but he only smirked in response saying, “Not yet.”

He led you backwards towards the bed until your legs hit the edge.

“Gonna give you the attention you asked for.” 

He said this casually, but the look in his dark eyes made your breath hitch. You had really only aimed for a good energetic fuck, but it seemed you might have sparked something deeper tonight. 

Harry told you to get on the bed, so you crawled up to its head and watched as Harry climbed after you, situating himself between your legs. His hands smoothed their way up your thighs, and found the band of your panties and pulled.

Once they were gone, Harry groaned at the sight of you. You were fucking divine, every part of you. He kissed the inside of your knee and slowly, methodically began kissing his way towards your center until he reached your throbbing core.

He kissed gently around your clit, frustrating you until you whined, “Harry, come on.”

“So impatient,” Harry chuckled, and you could feel his warm breath on your folds, hovering right where you needed him. 

You were about to whine again when you felt his tongue dash out, lapping at your clit. You jolted at the feeling, your hand immediately flying to his hair, wanting to secure him to the spot, make sure he wouldn’t stop. 

As if he could have stopped...Once Harry tasted you, there was no going back. He hummed with pleasure, and licked at your folds again. He licked from your entrance to your clit, tasting your sweetness on his tongue, and began to swirl his thick muscle around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, savoring every whimper and cry of his name he heard you utter as he ate you. 

It was embarrassing how quickly you were reaching your climax again having had barely any control with the first one. Something about the way he was moaning almost reverently, murmuring praises about how good you tasted, and how beautiful you were was sending you flying to your next orgasm.

“So close, Har,” You mumbled.

“I know.” Harry hummed into your core. He could feel you getting closer as you tightened your grip on his hair. It was almost painful how tightly you held him, but the pride of how fast you were rising and the sheer hotness of you chanting his name had him licking and sucking like he’d starve without you. It wasn’t long before you came all over his tongue and chin.

A proud smirk curled over Harry’s glistening lips when he finally let go of your clit. You watched him move up your body, never losing eye contact until he was hovering over you, licking his lips absently. You barely gave him time to wipe the come from his chin when you pulled him down into a searing kiss. He met your lips and matched the passion with which you were kissing him.

You tasted yourself on his tongue, and you felt yourself clench around nothing. You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed him in you. You wanted to feel every part of him inside you. You wanted his chest pressed against yours and your legs to be wrapped around his body as he ruined you for tomorrow. It was why you had come out tonight, and you were going to feel him, every inch, every vein.

Your hands made their way to his pants, and this time he let you pull them down. His cock sprang free, erect and already leaking, making you even more aware of how empty your pussy was. You immediately went to pump it, but Harry caught your hand before you could.

“‘M not gonna last at all if you do that.” He said breathlessly, removing his pants all the way.

“Then fuck me already,” You answered back with a quick but pointed kiss.

“Gladly,” He said, an amused smirk playing on his lips as he lined himself up with your entrance.

A deep moan came from both of you as Harry pushed in, barely slowing as he bottomed out. You breathed an ok, letting him know you were ready, and he started thrusting lightly into you, but you both needed more and the pace quickened.

The sounds of skin on skin filled the room as Harry slammed into you, his own panting and moans mixing with yours in an off-kilter duet.

“Fuck, Y/n/n, you feel so good.” Harry muttered into your neck.

You barely managed more than his name in answer before your words turned into a cry of pleasure when he shifted your leg just enough to find your g-spot, hitting it over and over and over again. 

All you could feel was Harry, all you could think about was Harry and the way he made you feel. It was all too much to process, and something you didn’t want to process as your high raced to its peak, so you let your pleasure drown it out, getting lost in each thrust of his cock.

Your hands pressed him closer as your nails dragged down his back, no doubt leaving a mark in their wake. That did nothing but drive Harry closer to his own edge, but he wasn’t sure what was sending him faster, the sex or the stupid complicated feelings that were beginning to course through his veins right now.

Having you this close, thinking about you coming here to see him, and the way you were saying his name...It all felt like a jumbled mess of thoughts, and he didn’t know why...No, he knew why, but he wasn’t gonna think about it…

He changed positions one more time, finding an even deeper route through your slick walls as he hammered into you. Both of you moaned in unison, and your walls fluttered around him--a telling sign you were reaching your climax. He was so close himself, the knot just waiting to snap. 

Harry leaned down and kissed your neck, before panting softly, “Come with me, Y/n.”

You hummed and nodded, too far gone to answer with words, and together white hot pleasure explode and rushed through your bodies. Your lips once again found each other as you rode out your orgasms.

When you were finally too sensitive to take anymore, you gently pushed Harry away. He stilled his movements, but didn’t immediately move away, hesitating. It was so tempting to just roll onto his side, taking you with him so you could continue cuddling, but he knew that’s not how this worked between the two of you. You teased each other, kissed, fucked, and left. Falling asleep was certainly a possibility, but you were always gone before he woke. Always making sure what happened in the night, stayed in the night.

Harry looked at your face, absolutely fucked out, with a soft smile playing on your lips as you lazily blink back up at him. He returned the smile, before sweetly kissing your cheek and carefully getting up to grab a warm washcloth.

The cool of the room engulfed you when his body left yours, making you cringe at both the loss of him and his warmth, but you were entirely too tired to care. Even when Harry was back, and you felt him gently cleaning you up, you were already half way asleep, thoughts of him moving in and out of your consciousness.

He was so good at making you feel good. He knew you like the back of his hand. How had you gotten so lucky? You weren’t sure, and frankly you didn’t want to question it. You weren’t going to complicate what you had when it was going so well. Clearly, your gamble had paid off tonight, but it meant nothing--Well not nothing. This was one of the hottest hookups you’d ever had with Harry. You smiled to yourself at the thought. You might just have to do something like this again if it got Harry this riled up.

When the bed to your right dipped down, and you heard the covers shuffle and slid over you, you instinctively turned towards his warm body, nuzzling into his chest and sighing with complete contentment ready to sleep a few hours before finding your way back to your own bed.

Surprised, Harry didn’t immediately wrap his arms around you. He wasn’t sure if he should, knowing full well they’d be empty again in the morning. 

But you won. You always did. If he was going to keep doing this with you, not knowing when he’d have you in his arms next, then he was going to take every chance he had to hold you close. Besides, you were still one of his best friends and a fellow crewman on set. He’d see you tomorrow, and the day after that and the day after that. An empty bed in the morning didn’t need to mean anything...

At least that’s what he kept telling himself when he felt you stir later that night and get up, giving him your habitual goodbye kiss on the cheek. And it’s what he told himself when he heard the sharp click of the hotel door closing, his hands automatically grabbing the other pillow to hug. And it’s what he told himself the next day when he saw you flirting with another guy on set while your eyes flicked to him and winked.

Yeah. He’d told himself it didn’t matter. So why couldn’t he stop himself from falling for you. Because he was, and it was turning into a deep, disastrous love.

----

tagging some moots that might enjoy... (you can always let me know if you don’t wanna be tagged ☺️)

@harryhollandsgirlfriend @cocoamoonmalfoy @greenorangevioletgrass @violetlilysunshine @thsquad @hazofmyheart @hollandsmushroom

[kingofkingdom-archive]

So Much Like Stars - Part TWO

Pairing: Boba Fett x Female Reader

Part TWO (Read Part One HERE)

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Summary: During a trek through the mountains, you discover new things about both Boba and yourself.

Warnings: Explicit sex, p-in-v sex, hand feeding, breathplay, choking kink, power dynamics/power play, royalty kink (?), dom/sub dynamics, pool sex (kinda you'll see), unprotected sex, coming inside (do not do this in real life), age difference, dirty talk, spit kink, offscreen oral sex, AFAB reader, safe to read if triggered by pregnancy

Word Count: 10k+

A/N: Major apologies in order for the delay on this one! It's been up on AO3 (here) for a hot minute but it took me a bit longer to get around to posting it here. Anywho... here it is. Let me know what you think! I love to get reblogs/comments/messages so very much. As always, no use of Y/N, and please heed the warnings. <3

The early hours of the following day fly by like ash in the wind.

You and Boba leave as soon as you are able, gathering necessary supplies into packs and preparing for the grueling trek ahead of you. You notify your father of your departure - he is not happy about it, but he learned long ago that he has little sway over the decisions you make.

You also find Boba a cloak that fits over his armor and that doesn't hinder his ability to reach his weapons. It's thick around his neck, which is why you'd insisted he wear it.

He'd stopped complaining once you were about a kilometer out from the village gate.

The howling wind swirls around the two of you, snow and ice collecting on your clothes. The journey is not an easy one, but with Boba's natural strength and your knowledge of the terrain the two of you handle it better than most.

Boba's steps are always audible behind you, even when the air around you seems to be screaming. You appreciate his closeness, because far too often people have been lost and never found because they fell too far behind.

It's easy to become lost in a place like this. Being found tends to be a matter of life and death.

The sheer cliff faces and shifting dunes of snow present the most hazardous challenges on your journey. One single misstep could have either of you tumbling down, and as you walk you only gain elevation, increasing the distance between you and the ground below. It's terrain that you've traversed plenty of times, but you don't know how well-suited Boba is to such harsh elements.

You glance back at your companion when you come to a turn, sheltered from the biting wind and driving snow.

"Faring alright back there?" You have to yell to be heard, but Boba nods.

"I'm doing just fine, princess. Seen worse than this."

You raise your brows, even though he can't see your face through your mask. "If you say so. We'll be on this trail for the rest of today and most of tomorrow. Then we'll turn off and find the source."

There is, of course, the risk of encountering an ongrol. The idea of it looms over your journey like a dark cloud, and you keep alert to any shift in the wind or in the landscape ahead. The constant drone of air around you would typically mask the sound of any movement, but your ears have become attuned to listening for things outside the wind. Footsteps, especially those of a creature larger than yourself, will be obvious. The ongrol are not known for their stealth - if they want to attack, they'll do it with a thunderous leap and a swipe of razor-sharp claws.

You'd been telling the truth when you told Boba it was rare to escape an encounter with one alive. Boba had shown you the fire-blaster on his arm, and the two of you have no shortage of weapons, but still you worry. You keep alert, listening to the world around you.

Though your focus has a tight hold on your mind, you can't help but let your thoughts wander to Boba, and to the events of the previous night.

In all your life, you've never met a man quite like Boba.

Not only did he sense your needs intrinsically, it seemed as though he saw right through you the moment he laid eyes on you. You recall seeing his visor tilt toward you in the meeting room; you hadn't known it then, but now you can imagine what he'd been thinking. Boba saw your presence at that table and immediately knew what kind of girl you are.

It doesn't speak well to your sensibilities as a village leader, if you're being honest with yourself. This is the first foreigner to visit your people, and you let him into your home, between your legs? You suddenly feel rather guilty about it, but a small voice in your head reminds you how good it felt.

How good he felt.

Maker above. Nothing in your life could ever compare to the things he made you feel last night. Armor against skin - ice against fire, rough edges against smooth curves. The smell of him in your nose as he pleasured you, unkempt and raw. The splay of his hands on your hips as he took, and took, and gave you so much in return.

Boba knew exactly how to take you apart. And you'd only met him that day.

You didn't delude yourself into believing this could continue. He does not belong here, and you certainly can't leave. Above all else, your people need you, and to leave the planet would be to abandon them.

You steel your heart into acceptance. You'll enjoy Boba's company for as long as he's here, and then things will return to normal. You'll figure out how to hide the kyber and no one will bother you. Your people will live on in peace.

Whether you will ever find peace after knowing what it is to be with Boba Fett is another matter entirely. But you can't dwell on that, or you might decide to do something drastic.

You let that thought slip from your brain quickly, replacing it with memories of last night. Despite yourself, you smile beneath your mask, surely blushing as well. Though your steps forward are certain and sure, your center heats up at the thought of his hand around your throat, of his thick cock moving wickedly inside you.

From the depths of your mind float up a few words he'd said, a phrase you'd forgotten until just now.

Come for your king.

Odd, his choice of wording. It sends a shiver down your spine, but then you give it a moment of thought. Surely he didn't mean king in the context of you, of your village - that wouldn't make any sense. But then again, he couldn't mean --

You furrow your brow. Yes, it was the heat of the moment, but he still said it.

There's a possibility of something more there, something much more than just a bounty hunter in search of a handful of credits and some relief for the night. You remember how he'd asked if you knew his name, like he'd expected you to.

Do you know the name Boba Fett, princess?

Boba Fett. No, you have no knowledge of that name outside the armored man trekking behind you.

Who is he?

You frown, but decide to keep your questions to yourself for now. You're nothing if not careful - keeping your cards close to your chest is a skill you've more than mastered.

Boba Fett, no matter who he is, will be none the wiser to your doubts.

-

That night, once darkness begins to envelop the air around you, you lead Boba to a small, secluded, empty cave safe from the cold wind. There's a dark scorch mark on the ground, evidence of a past campfire.

"I've used this cave a number of times," you explain as you take off your pack, setting it on the ground with a groan. The weight on your shoulders never gets lighter. "The cold shouldn't reach us here, especially once we get a fire going."

Boba hums, unrolling his bedroll, which is a collection of mats and blankets identical to yours. "I know a few other ways we could stay warm, princess."

You look over at him. His back is turned to you, large and imposing in the dim light.

"Do you?" you ask, light with a hint of a sly smile in your voice. You lean your staff against the cave wall and crouch to begin extracting your own bedroll.

Behind you, you hear a gruff chuckle. The deep, rumbling sound of it makes your breath hitch. Boba Fett may be an enigma to you, but that doesn't mean you feel any less strongly for him now than you did last night.

In fact, the close quarters of this cave mean his words are more than just teasing.

You turn and spread your bedroll out beside the spot where you'll set up the fire, and you see that Boba has set his up so that it's perpendicular to yours, the corners overlapping.

Next you take out the meat and bread you brought along, as well as flint, some firestarter, and a few bricks of coal that will burn through the night. You prop yourself on your knees to get the fire started, and once the flames have sprung to life, you lean forward to set up the small spit to cook your meal.

You're just arranging the cut of meat on the metal spike when you feel movement behind you. The fire beneath you is searing, so hot that when you feel hands on your hips, you lean back into them to escape the heat.

Boba's hands grip your hips tighter and you yelp as he drags you backwards. His fingers land on your thigh, grasping at and arranging you until your back is flush with his chest. Your legs are tucked in between his, which are spread out in front of the two of you.

You look up at him. You're seated in his lap, but the layers of clothes and metal between you prevent you from feeling anything distinct.

He reaches a hand up to tug at your face mask.

"Let me see you," he murmurs.

You let him remove the cloth covering your mouth and nose, and then he slides your goggles off of your face. You're sure you've got marks around your eyes from wearing them for so long, but Boba doesn't seem to mind.

In return, you place your hands on the bottom of his helmet, fingers curling under. He allows you to press the small latch beneath your index finger and slide his helmet off, the warmth of his breath ghosting across your face as soon as you can see his mouth.

You lift Boba's helmet all the way off and set it to the side. He puts a hand on your waist, firm and grounding, fingers curled tightly into your ribs.

"I've been many places in my time, but I admit I've never met anyone quite like you, little one."

His words are smooth as silk, soft and tender in your ear. You smile and raise your brows, glancing from his eyes to his lips and back again.

"Surely you've met more than a few pretty girls in your travels," you reply.

Boba scoffs. His grip on your thigh tightens, pulling you close.

"I have. You…" he shakes his head, and you watch as his gazes slips down to land on your mouth. You bite your lip and your heart races at the way his pupils dilate at the sight of it.

"You're different, sweetheart."

The new pet name makes you shiver, subconsciously pressing closer to him. "Is that right? I can hardly believe I'm much different from anyone else."

You're baiting him, goading him into saying something more. You've never been one for compliments - they've always felt forced, almost disingenuous. Not with Boba.

"The girls I've known either want my head on a pike or can't look me in the eye," he tells you. You chuckle softly - you don't blame them.

"Is that 'cause you'll shoot them if they do?"

Boba grunts and pinches your side, making you squeal. You laugh, full-bodied and silly, at your own joke, spurred on by Boba's tickling.

He leans down, large body curling over you. Your giggles peter out as his lips press against your ear.

"What if I said yes, little one?"

You blink. Slowly, you turn to face him, so close that your noses are brushing.

"If you said yes?" you whisper into the air between your lips.

He hums.

You take a moment to study the scars on his face before grinning, soft and lazy. Your hand, resting on his knee, gives a gentle squeeze.

"Then I'd tell you there's more than a few men in that village who can't look me in the eye."

Your words seem to take Boba by surprise for a moment, from the way his eyebrows bounce up. It's true - when you were younger, boys in the village would try things, stupid dares and pranks you took none too lightly. There's one in particular who, if he looked at you funny, would get a blaster shot to the knee thanks to the shit he's pulled in the past.

They've learned their lessons.

"Is that so?" Boba's voice has gotten slightly deeper. It rolls through you like thunder, filling the small cave with its resonance.

You nod, a smirk playing at the edges of your lips.

His eyes flit down, gaze following the subtle movement of your mouth. It's too much - the closeness, the heat of the fire and of his body and of the way he's looking at you. You bring your hand up to rest on his shoulder, gripping his armor.

And you kiss him.

You press your lips against his, open and pliant, unable to save yourself from how much you want him. Boba groans and returns the kiss, tongue sweeping into your open mouth, licking into you like he's a man starved and you're his next meal. You savor the taste of him, because you can't pinpoint exactly what the flavor on his tongue is, and you know that must mean it's something uniquely Boba.

He shifts his hands to rearrange you, placing your legs on either side of his own so you're straddling him. Your palms come up to rest on his neck and jaw as his land on your hips, pulling you down so you're sitting right on his codpiece. You gasp at the feeling of it through your clothes. Boba bites at your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth, before releasing you.

You open your eyes, not having realized you'd closed them. Boba is staring at you, but you can't read the look in his eye.

"What?" you murmur, searching his expression for any hint of what he might be thinking.

He hums, hand on your hip flexing, squeezing. "Nothing, sweetheart, just…"

You wait for him to finish his thought. His brows furrow ever so slightly as he looks back at you. Behind you, the meat sizzles from the heat of the fire, filling the space with its aromatic scent.

Boba shakes his head. "Nevermind."

Before you can respond, he presses forward to kiss you again. You want to encourage him to share what he was going to say, but it only takes a swipe of his tongue against your own to have your eyelids fluttering shut and your thoughts quieting.

He kisses you like the sun - hot and insistent, reminding you how fleeting it all is. You've only ever seen the sun a few times in your life, but its brightness seared your mind in a way not dissimilar to the way Boba's laying his mark on your heart.

You let him kiss you deeply, unhurried, until your brain clicks on long enough to remind you that there's food cooking behind you.

You extract yourself from Boba's hold, which makes him grunt in displeasure until he sees what you're doing. In your pack there's a plate and a cloth, both of which you retrieve and bring back to the fire. Carefully you take the meat off of the spit and put it on the plate, along with the bread.

Boba watches, legs still spread as he sits, leaning back on his hands. You take the plate and sit between his thighs again.

You make to tear a piece of the tender meat off, but you feel a hand on your arm, preventing you from doing so. Confused, you look up at Boba, who simply rips off his own bit of meat. But instead of bringing it to his lips, he raises it to yours.

Wordlessly, you lock eyes with him and open your mouth. His stare is hot, intense, as he feeds you, your lips closing around his index finger and thumb, tongue licking the excess juices off his skin. You take a moment longer than is strictly necessary to taste the pads of his fingers, hollowing your cheeks and sucking his digits like you might something else of his.

You chew the meat once he's pulled his fingers from your mouth. He watches intently until you've swallowed, and then he takes a piece for himself.

As he eats, you find yourself full to the brim with curiosity about him. Once he's finished with his bite, you ask the first question you can think of.

"Last night you mentioned your father. I'd like to hear about him."

Boba raises his brows. He tears off another chunk of meat, offers it to you, and you take it. He speaks as you chew.

"His name was Jango. I -" he seems to consider his words, eyes darting down to the ground as he thinks "- he wasn't technically my father, but he raised me as his son. I traveled with him as a boy, until he was killed by a Jedi."

You frown. "What's that?”

Boba looks at you funny, tilting his head. "You've never heard of the Jedi?"

You shake your head no. "Are they human?"

"Some are," he explains. "They're Force-users, claiming to fight for peace and justice in the galaxy."

His voice is bitter, but you don't blame him, if what he says is true. "But they killed your father."

Boba nods. "They will tell you they fight for what's good and right. But they are no worse than those they call enemies."

"Who are their enemies?"

"The Empire. Dark users of the Force." Boba studies you as you take in this information. You've heard of the Empire, and the Republic, but clearly some information was omitted from your village's records.

"And the Force is…?"

Boba shifts, grabbing some more meat for himself, which he eats before replying.

"I've never fully understood it myself, but from what I gather it's an energy present in all things. The Jedi and the Sith can manipulate it to their will."

You have so many questions, but you know asking them will only make you more confused. Energy in all things? That sounds… well, it sounds overwhelming, to be truthful. It sounds like magic, which your father always told you was the stuff of fairy-stories.

Boba feeds you another morsel and you eat, thinking.

"Can they 'manipulate' blaster fire?" you ask once you've swallowed.

"I don't think so. They tend to deflect it with their lightsabers, which are swords powered by kyber, coincidentally."

You wrinkle your nose. "Swords? I'd take a well-timed blaster shot over a sword any day."

Boba laughs, hearty and full. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close, pressing his lips to your temple.

"That's my girl," he mutters. His words send a shiver down your spine.

Boba continues to feed you as he tells you about his father and his own travels. You learn about his time on Kamino, where Jango's DNA was made into clones, and that Boba himself is an unaltered clone of his father. You learn about Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, legendary Jedi who proved difficult for both Boba and Jango at various points through the years. He tells you about meeting Fennec Shand on Tatooine and about another companion of theirs, a man who just goes by the name Mando.

He doesn't tell you about the scars, so you don't ask.

When you're falling asleep, eyes drifting closed as your head rests on Boba's chest, you wonder at the life Boba Fett's led, how such excitement and pain ultimately finds him here, holding you close.

All you've ever known is this planet, your people. Perhaps the universe, in its vast, unknowable expanse, is really here beneath you, in Boba's stories and his scars. You think maybe it's okay that you aren't meant for more than your cold village, because at least you can travel through the galaxy just by listening to him.

At least you can know the taste of the stars just by kissing him.

-

The next morning is decidedly less relaxed than last night. You and Boba pack up hastily and you're on the trail when the first light of the morning is just beginning to show.

Hours pass in much the same way that they did yesterday. Snow and wind beat at you, but you press on until you reach the area you're no longer entirely familiar with.

You see the map in your mind's eye as you lead Boba across the rocky terrain. You're sure of your path, even though it's beyond any place you've been to previously. Somehow you just know, like the trail is programmed into your feet. Everything seems normal until the wind shifts and you catch the sound of something else on the air.

Throwing an arm out, fist closed, you immediately come to a halt, and Boba follows suit.

You're in an open expanse of snow and ice, still trekking upwards, but now a good distance away from any sheer cliff faces. You tighten your grip on your staff and listen, ears drowning out the howling wind to pick out the other you'd just sensed.

Something's ahead of you. Something large. You can hear the shifting of its weight, the silence of the space it takes up.

You glance back to Boba and nod. Carefully, quietly, he walks up to stand next to you.

"Up ahead," you tell him, voice as low as possible so as to not be heard by anyone - or anything - other than him. "Something big. It has to be -"

Your mouth snaps shut when you see it. Up ahead, a pair of glowing blue eyes emerge like beacons out of the fog, looming over you even before you can see the rest of its body. The ongrol moves forward, massive steps fading in and shaking the ground under your feet. You clench your jaw and ready yourself for what you know is coming.

You look over at Boba, and when the visor turns to face you, an unspoken agreement passes between the two of you, perfectly clear despite lack of words and facial expressions.

The ongrol doesn't allow you a moment longer, though. Its massive form is now visible through the driving snow - white fur with glowing blue stripes, pointed ears with long, flowing tips, and massive fangs.

You draw your blaster.

The moment it senses the two of you, it looks down and roars. Immediately it's charging forward and you fire off a volley of shots, though they don't seem to do a whole lot of good. Boba's hand comes down like durasteel on your arm and he jerks you back, positioning himself between you and the monster. He aims his fire-blaster at it, hosing it down with a torrent of flame. The ongrol yelps, then snarls, and you watch as it raises its massive paw, claws extended, piercing blue gaze zeroed in on Boba.

In that split second there's a feeling that comes over you, a gut instinct that pours over your body like warm water. It fills your skin, your nerves, your bones, so fully that your mind goes quiet in the wake of your body taking control.

As if you'd done it a thousand times before, you plant your feet and thrust your hand towards the beast, palm open. A feeling like electricity surges through you - not painful, but equally powerful and all-consuming.

The ongrol flies away, launched through the air, as if pulled by some invisible force.

Its cries echo against the mountainside as it falls, tumbling and rolling down a cliff face you can't quite see.

Boba whirls around to look at you, and the last thing you see is his visor coming closer as you collapse and the world goes dark.

-

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the warmth surrounding you. It's everywhere, like you're lying in front of a fire, and your immediate instinct is to turn over and fall back asleep. Your tired brain wants nothing more than to bask in the heat and enjoy it for as long as it will last.

But then your eyes flutter behind their lids, and you catch glimpses of something glowing, bluish-green in a way you've never before experienced. With considerable effort, you open your eyes wide, and the sight before you brings your mind to full awareness. You struggle to tuck an arm under yourself and push up slightly, getting a better view of where you are.

You're lying atop your bedroll, your staff on the ground next to you. Immediately in front of you is a pool of water, still and steaming, that glows a bright, shimmering combination of blues and greens. No, wait… the water itself isn't glowing - rather, it's reflecting light from the walls.

Walls lined with crystals.

You still feel exhausted, despite having just woken up, but the sight of the kyber makes you jolt to a sitting position. Your head swims, dizzy and drained.

From behind you, you hear Boba's voice.

"Woah there," he murmurs, a hand coming to rest gently on your shoulder. You squeeze your eyes shut to block out the rocking motion of the world around you.

When you open your eyes again, Boba's sitting to your left, facing you.

"What happened?" you ask, your memory of the events of this morning still foggy and distant.

Boba hums. "Well, you tossed that cat across a mountain with your mind."

You frown and look up at him incredulously. His helmet's off - in fact, he's also taken off the rest of his armor as well as the top half of his flight suit - he's left in his pants, undershirt, and boots.

His arms are bare. It's the most of him you've seen - his biceps bulge, large chest straining against the tight shirt he wears.

Your thoughts circle back to what he just said.

"Run that by me again," you mutter, searching his face for any hint of a lie. Boba blinks, raises a brow, and stares back, keeping the eye contact.

"You used the Force to kill that lion, princess."

His face is stone-straight. He's not lying to you, not that you can tell.

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut and rubbing the heels of your hands across them roughly. Stars erupt on the back of your eyelids, and for a moment, your nausea abates. It comes back to you in flashes - the creature's eyes, the sound of its roars on the wind, the feeling that overcame you when you watched it raise its deadly claws at Boba.

It's nothing you've ever felt before in your life.

"So…" you pause, trying to sort through the situation. "So - does this mean… how is that possible?"

Boba puts a hand on your calf, firm and grounding. "You want my theory?"

Hands still pressed to your eyes, you nod.

"The water. It's infused with kyber, which is what has healed your people, but it must have also awoken a Force-sensitivity in you."

You take a few deep breaths, the exhaustion and nausea slowly leaving your body with each exhalation. Boba's thumb rubs your skin softly, a simple back-and-forth motion that brings your racing mind back down into your head.

Carefully, you take your hands from your eyes. The world has finally stopped spinning. You look over at the pool to your right, into its calm, tranquil waters. Steam rises from its surface and dissipates before it can reach the cavernous ceiling above you. Kyber dots the walls, green and blue all around you, mesmerizing and radiant.

Sweat is beginning to gather under your eyes and on the back of your neck and between your breasts. You belatedly realize Boba has undressed you to your undergarments, so you sit there in little more than your underwear and a sleeveless top.

You stare at your hands, fidgeting between your thighs, and look up at Boba again. A million questions are floating through your mind, but you're not sure he'll be able or willing to answer them all. You bite your lip, brow furrowed.

"Does this mean I'm a Jedi?" It's the most pressing question on your mind, because if what Boba says is true, you're not so sure you want any part in your newfound gifts.

Boba shakes his head. "No, little one. All Jedi are force-users, but not all force-users are Jedi. Or Sith, for that matter."

In your lap, you turn your hands so your palms are facing up, cradling one another. Nothing has changed about them - still the same jagged patterns of lines as always. Still the same, but with this new… sensitivity, they feel foreign.

The Force feels like a new limb, a new sense that's now made your body a stranger to your mind.

"What do you remember from yesterday?" Boba asks, rough voice a soothing balm to your racing heart.

You tilt your head, trying to gather your memories together. "I remember walking up the mountain, and then there was the ongrol. I tried to shoot it, but that didn't work, and then you pushed me behind you. You threw your fire at it, and then it -"

Suddenly, you feel yourself getting choked up. It washes over you like a gust of cool air, returning to the emotion you felt in that moment on the mountainside. You blink a few times, swallowing down your panic and fear at the thought of it.

"And then it raised its paw, and I thought you were going to die."

Boba says nothing, just waits and lets you continue.

"All of a sudden this feeling came over me, like an instinct, and then there was this… this buzz that I felt. I just did it. I don't know how I knew how to."

Boba nods. He's looking at you with an expression you can't quite place, soft and severe all at the same time. It makes you shiver despite the heat that surrounds you.

You avert your eyes, instead focusing on his hand where it lay on your leg. His fingers nearly encircle your calf. You reach out and take his hand in yours, drawing it close to you, running the tips of your fingers over his knuckles, his wrist, the silvery scars that interrupt his tan skin.

"From what I understand," Boba murmurs, curling his fingers into yours ever so slightly, "it's supposed to take years of training for a Force-user to wield that sort of power, princess."

You glance up at him. He's smiling at you now, dark eyes sparkling.

Something about his expression, combined with what he just said, hooks into your brain and sours the taste on your tongue. You recall your doubts from earlier, doubts about who he is. Why would it matter if you - a village girl from a desolate snow planet - have more of a gift than most? Why would he care?

Your immediate reaction is that he's flattering you, like he did the other night in front of the fire. For some reason, your instinct tells you this is different, that he's got motives beyond those he's revealed to you.

Instinct has proven to be on your side lately, so you follow it headfirst.

"Why did you call yourself a king?"

Boba's smile vanishes, and the tension between you grows tenfold.

You grasp his hand firmly. Your faces seem so much closer now.

"What?" he asks, even though you know he heard you perfectly well. You narrow your eyes, not liking whatever game he's playing at. Boba Fett doesn't seem to be the type to play dumb, and you're certainly not the type to fall for it.

"You heard me," you say, voice calm and monotone. "Why did you call yourself a king when you were fucking me?"

Boba chuckles, a deadly sound that would have unnerved you if you were anyone but yourself.

He raises a brow. "Interesting question. Didn't you like it?"

"I liked it a lot less when I realized you had no reason to say it, bounty hunter."

Your voice is acidic, like venom hissing out from between your teeth.

"Or am I mistaken?"

Boba hums, but it feels more like a growl with your close proximity to him. "You sure you want to fall down that sarlacc pit, little one?"

You clench your jaw, giving your answer in the way you stare unwaveringly into his eyes.

His eyes flit down to your lips and back up again. You lean back slightly in response, refusing to let him distract you.

"It's not an official title, if that's your concern," he says.

"What sort of title is it, then?" you ask, guarded heart racing once again.

Boba tilts his head to one side, taking a long moment to look at you. His breathing is slow, steady, and you try to match your own to it, but his next words throw you off balance.

"A stolen one."

You blink, a fluttering sensation erupting in your chest - and not in a good way. It's as if your heart has tripped over itself in an attempt to flee him.

He brings his free hand up to cup your cheek, tender and authoritative as he runs his thumb along your lower lip. "I killed the man who last sat on my throne, so the title is now mine."

You frown, despite the digit near your mouth. "What's your kingdom, then? Who are your subjects?"

"Those like me," he responds, without hesitation. "Hunters. Mercenaries. People who are willing to do most anything for some credits."

The dots are beginning to connect in your brain, and you're not sure you like the picture that's forming.

"Criminals. You're - you're a crime lord," you mutter.

Boba chuckles again, a smirk forming at the edges of his lips. "Something like that."

A conflicted feeling rises in your chest. You twist your chin out of his grasp, looking away and into the waters beside you. Had you known this was the man you were dealing with, would you have let him between your legs that first night? You'd like to think not. But then again, a voice in your head reasons vehemently, you knew he was a bounty hunter, and how is that any better?

You purse your lips. At the moment you're not entirely sold on what your conscience is telling you to do, which is to cut him off now and end whatever it is that exists between the two of you.

In your lap, you're still holding his hand in both of yours.

"I want to trust you, Boba," you admit. He puts his other hand on your thigh as you turn back to face him. "But I'm not daft."

He opens his mouth to speak, but you aren't finished. "I know it may not be in your nature, but I would appreciate some clarity here. What does this... this Force sensitivity really mean? I'm not some spoiled, naive princess, either - despite what you may say."

Boba is silent - his brown eyes are as intense as they are unreadable as they look at you. It drags on long enough that you get restless. You let go of his hand and turn away, tucking your feet up under yourself to stand.

The water has been calling to you each time you’ve looked at it, and you can no longer resist its draw. Tentatively, you touch a toe into the shimmering pool, marvelling at its warmth.

You walk forward. With each step, you feel as though you're gaining life, absorbing energy you hadn't known you'd lost.

The water is up to your thighs when Boba finally speaks.

"The Force will die in you if you remain here for the rest of your life, princess."

That gives you pause. You turn around. Boba is shirtless now, but he's still reclining as he was. It takes a major effort not to let your eyes drop down to his abdomen, enticing like a beacon in your periphery.

"You want to know what I’m thinking, is that right?” He asks the question like he half expects you to say no.

You nod. Around you, the warm, steaming water is rippling with your movements, but it shimmers in a manner more than can be described as distinctly natural. Almost without thought, you step backwards, submerging yourself further in its enticing warmth. Your fingers and palms skim the surface.

"I wanted to ask you to join me. To come back with me."

It almost makes you laugh, the way he says it so seriously. A disbelieving smile crosses your features.

"You know I can't leave my people," you reply. "You've known that since the start."

Boba sighs. "I have. I was still tempted to ask, regardless. Ever since the tavern."

That's interesting. This whole line of conversation is peculiar - you get the feeling he rarely needs to explain himself in such a way to anyone.

"Why? What use am I to you?"

He stands, but does not follow you into the water. Instead, he walks over to another part of the cave and leans against the wall, observing you.

"It's always been selfish," he admits. "At first I just wanted you as a crew member. You have a way for negotiating, or at least the type of negotiating that would be useful for my sort of operation.

“But then you revealed yourself to be this needy little thing, so desperate for me to fuck you, and I could just picture you in my ship, or in the palace, spread out and wanting me wherever I am.”

Those words, low and promising, cause a certain sort of wetness to pool in your underwear, one that can’t be blamed on the water that surrounds you. By now, you’re up to your collarbones in it, hands no longer visible to him as they remain at your sides.

You hook a thumb under the waistband of your panties and slide them off, slowly floating down as the water pulls them from your form. When they get low enough, you tuck them under your heel to hide the garment away.

Boba gives no hint that he sees, so you assume he cannot tell.

“You wanted to bring me back as a rare specimen, to show off to the criminals who work for you,” you retort, though something deep within you preens at the idea.

Something hidden and unknown until that night in front of the fireplace.

He just hums. “Yes.”

You can’t decide if his blunt honesty is a fault or a virtue. Right now, it’s mainly serving to bring heat to the space between your thighs. To hide your arousal, you narrow your eyes, trying to focus on why exactly he thinks he can just… whisk you away to some strange planet.

“And now,” you reply, “what's your reason for asking me to come back with you?”

He shrugs. “As I said, without training, the Force will die in you. I have connections to nearly any type of creature in this galaxy, Force-users included. I am your only hope if you want to keep your gift. If not, we go back down this mountain and it’ll be as though I was never here.”

That does present an interesting twist. The gears in your mind turn a bit faster, thinking on what exactly this may mean for you.

You consider where you are in the present moment - the reason Boba is even here in the first place. You consider your duty to your people, and you consider the long life your father has ahead of him.

How much time you have before you'll need to take his place.

How little time you might have if someone else realizes what this mountain holds.

"You said this kyber puts out some sort of signature, one that others can pick up on."

Boba raises a brow, and you see that he catches on to what you're proposing.

You continue, because if you don't, you'll convince yourself the idea is foolish. "This Force-user could teach me to hide the signature, no?"

"I don't see why not," Boba replies. In his eyes you see a glimmer of humor, like he thinks he's got you wrapped around his little finger. The way you're talking, you're on the verge of agreeing to return with him. He's got it in stone - his negotiator, this girl who needs him so strongly.

You see through him, though. He's tough to read, but you're learning to look between the lines.

Boba Fett is a criminal. For your whole life, you've studied law and order, learning the diplomatic ways of other planets and societies. To go with him would be to align yourself with everything you should hate, everything you should fight against.

But you are, after all, more than just a meek princess. You're a leader, a role model, a strong woman and lover of your people. Are you willing to dispense with your morality in favor of this Force training? In favor of following this man who has stolen your heart like he stole his throne?

"Say I did go," you start, and he doesn't even bother to hide his small grin. "Say I go with you. What does that look like for me? I will not be reduced to some pleasure slave, hidden away in your palace."

Boba shakes his head. "You will be free, my dear. You and I will work together, for both of our benefits. When I need a kind, unrelenting negotiator, you will speak on my behalf. In return, I find your training."

It sounds too good to be true, especially considering the major aspect to your relationship he has not yet mentioned.

Your eyes finally flit down to his chest, broad and thick in a way you never knew you'd like so much. His arms and shoulders are equally as enticing, the knowledge of how strong he is only serving to make his body more attractive to you. He is scarred, long-healed gashes across his skin the echoes of unimaginable pain and fire. As your gaze drops lower, tracing the skin of his abdomen as it disappears into the waistband of his pants, you feel something tighten in your chest. In the space between your hips.

Seeing him like this is intimate, almost more so than that very first night, and he hasn't even touched you.

"And what else might I expect, traveling with you?" You ask it knowing he sees the way you're looking at him.

Boba hums, as though he's giving the question some thought. He pushes off from the stone wall he was leaned up against.

"You know where this will go, princess."

His hands drop down to hook into the front of his pants, fingers toying with the clasp there. Your eyes follow the movement, entranced. The tendons and muscles in his arms flex and ripple as he works his hands, movement capturing your eye like a mouse to bread.

"I do," you reply, "but I want you to tell me."

His gaze darkens at your words. You watch as he deftly unfastens his trousers and pushes them down, stepping out of them and towards you. He moves unhurriedly, but with clear purpose.

You feel like you're one of his bounties, caught in the crosshairs of his rifle. Trapped.

Excitement courses through your veins.

"The first place I'll fuck you will be the ship," Boba says as he walks forward into the water, his thick thighs flexing with each step. You're too caught up in watching him approach to think to respond.

"Before we even leave this planet, I'll have you screaming against the durasteel, begging for my cock."

Your brain goes a bit fuzzy at his words, at the force of the arousal that hits you. It's like the moment he starts speaking to you like this, all higher function in your mind shuts off, full only of the images he conjures with his voice.

Boba's getting closer, and before you know it, he's within arm's reach.

All at once his hands are on you, rucking up your top to search out your bare skin, warm under the water. You reach up and put your hands on his shoulders, savoring the heat of his skin on your own.

"Once we get to Tatooine," he continues, pressing his lips close to your ear, voice like honey flowing over you, "I'll get you the most expensive dresses credits can buy, and we'll go to the clubs and cantinas and everyone there will want what's mine."

Your grip tightens, nails digging into his flesh. Boba finally pushes your top all the way up and off. He absentmindedly tosses it behind him, landing with a wet smack against the stone floor of the cave. His palms find your breasts and he squeezes them, kneading, flicking his thumbs over your nipples.

The feeling of it, like sparks shooting through your chest, makes you gasp, light and breathy.

"You'll sit on my lap at the sabacc table, and all those filthy criminals will know exactly how much you love getting fucked."

Boba runs a hand down your side, the other still toying with your breast, and you watch his face as he realizes you're no longer wearing your panties.

His jaw clenches as his fingers curl into the meat of your hip. He dips his head down so his nose brushes against yours, his breath cool compared to the heat of the water.

"You're a temptress, little one."

You can't help the small smile that floats across your lips. "What was that about how much I love getting fucked?”

He hums, dark and deep, the sound nearly a growl with the way it reverberates around you. Boba slides his hands down beneath your ass, and then he's hauling you up and pressing you against the wall to your left. You squeal at the sudden movement, legs locking around his waist and hands gripping his shoulders even tighter to keep from slipping away.

You feel the heat of a cloth-covered bulge against your burning, most sensitive skin. The sudden pressure of it makes you gasp, smiling, breathing in the air he's just exhaled with how close your mouths are.

Boba holds you with such ease. It's as though you're floating, featherlight in his arms.

"Watch it," he mutters, leaning in to graze his lips against the shell of your ear, the broad plane of his chest covering your own.

"Or what?"

It’s clear that Boba is more turned on than annoyed by your teasing, despite his words. He adjusts his grip so his broad palms fit even tighter around your hips, pressing his erection solidly into your bare core once again, rolling his hips wickedly. The water enhances everything - the throbbing in your cunt is amplified tenfold and you can hardly contain yourself.

His words only serve to drive you madder, lips and teeth pressed against your neck.

“Or I’ll make sure every last man in that village sees the limp in your walk before I take you away,” he growls.

You moan at the thought of it, at the thought of walking past your friends and fellow townspeople in such a state. The things they'd say - the whispers - would never get back to you, for you know they respect you too much, but oh, would they talk.

Boba shifts, reaching down to finally free his cock from his underwear. Almost immediately, you feel the hot length of it pressed up against your pussy.

“Yeah,” he mutters, moving his hips and torturing you with the drag of his dick. “They’ll all see how well I’ve fucked you - how good their little princess takes a bounty hunter’s cock.”

Your eyes slip closed as you cry out, shaking with how much you need him. “Please, Boba!”

His shoulder muscles ripple under your palms and he groans. "I need to get you ready for me, little one --"

"No," you cut him off, voice little more than a whine, pulling him closer as best you can in your desperate state. "I can take it. Right now, I need it, I need you, Boba--"

With a grunt, Boba lines himself up, hands like durasteel on your hips as he pulls you close in tandem with the thrust of his cock. You moan, high-pitched and uninhibited, when you feel his hot member pierce your cunt. Your folds part easily for him, the head sliding into your pussy like it was built just for this.

Your legs tighten around Boba's waist as he starts fucking you, dirty promises and filthy imaginings rolling off his tongue. His voice strains with each thrust, and it all just feels so divine.

You think you could live like this, if he'd let you. Get addicted to the way his cock moves inside you and never spend another day without it.

"That's it," he mutters, teeth bearing down on your neck, surely leaving marks that'll turn black and blue in a day or so. On a particularly sharp thrust, you're jolted back, legs trembling in his hold.

"Maker, Boba." You open your eyes and see the way he's looking at you, teeth slightly bared and brows furrowed. He looks vicious as he uses you.

"You're so tight, princess. My fat cock fits in your little cunt so well," he grits out, your body still jostling with each thrust. Your eyes are fixated on his face, on his mouth, watching the words spill out from behind his lips.

For a moment, your brain provides a sliver of sass, making your eyes sparkle with mirth, even as your tits bounce against Boba's bare chest.

"You fuck pretty good for an old man."

Boba growls, a deep chuckle combined with a moan sounding from somewhere deep in his chest. His thrusts slow and he leans back, taking in the way your body is wrapped around him. Your hands fall to your breasts, pressing them together and flicking your thumbs over your nipples.

He snaps his hips up, hard, slamming his cock into you and forcing a whine from your throat. You can feel his balls smack your ass, even under the water. "You're desperate for it, princess. Desperate for this old man to fuck you like you need."

He rolls his hips again, rhythm slow and steady and deep. The air around you seems to rock in tandem with him.

"Yeah, you'll love Tatooine," he drawls, exhaling through his nose. "I could take this sweet pussy right on the throne and no one would say a thing. They'll all watch their King fuck a woman young enough to be his daughter."

You moan loudly, silken walls clenching and fluttering around his cock as it pounds into you.

He hums. "You like that, huh, little one?"

Despite yourself, you nod, squeezing your eyes shut again. Boba's left hand comes up to grip your chin, fingers like iron against your jaw. His thrusts get shallower, lazy, like he's become distracted from the fact that he's currently balls-deep inside you.

Your hands find his chest, getting your fill of his searing hot skin against your own.

"Open," he demands, and you do, tongue resting on your bottom lip.

Boba hesitates for a moment, and in that split second, the world around you is still once again. "This mouth," he murmurs, "is just begging to be filled, isn't it."

The words make you clench around him, an involuntary reaction to the thought of putting his cock in your mouth, of laving it with attention and worshipping it like it deserves.

Your eyes are still closed, so you can't see as he closes his mouth and works his jaw for a moment, gathering saliva on his tongue. You only feel the jarring sensation of spit landing in the back of your throat, filthy and debasing.

"Swallow it, little girl."

Eyes fluttering open, you do as you're told, and you know you'd do it a million more times if it means he'll look at you like he is right now, eyes dark as space itself.

"Thank you, my king."

You don't know what compels you to say it, other than the fact that it just feels right. Boba smiles, a sly thing that makes his dark eyes sparkle with something dangerous, and he begins fucking you again.

His hand slips down to your throat. Not tight, just resting there, a reminder.

Boba Fett licks his lips before speaking, the steam from the water around you making his face look almost eerie in the glow of the kyber. "You take me so well, my queen."

He picks up the pace again, and soon he's jackhammering into you with the same fervor as before. Your mind melts into a puddle inside your skull, only able to focus on the push-pull within you and the building crescendo that accompanies it. Boba's fingers tighten ever so slightly on your neck, and you respond in kind, curling your nails into the meat of his pecs like claws.

The fire within you is licking up your legs, winding through your ribs, and you gasp when it feels so close it's unbearable.

"Boba, I'm gonna - I need --"

He cuts you off with two simple words: "Touch yourself."

And so you do, the fingers of your dominant hand flying down to rub your clit and draw your orgasm to its inevitable peak. You press the pads of your middle and ring fingers to the bundle of nerves and frantically work to bring yourself off.

The sparks that shoot through you at the feeling of your own touch, combined with Boba's continued movements within you, force you up and over the edge of your climax in rapid succession. You cry out, the sound of it echoing far above your heads.

There must be something about the water, because the sensation is unlike anything you've ever experienced before. Your whole body seizes, straining against the hand that's wrapped like durasteel around your neck, and a tingling sensation shoots down your arms and legs to your toes. You've heard tales of the afterlife, of nirvana, of pure euphoria, and you think this must be it, because you can hardly comprehend the full-body pleasure that engulfs and drowns you.

When it passes, you go limp in his arms, head draped against his shoulder.

Boba finishes not long after, spilling into you. His spend is hot where it fills you, hotter than the water, and it's like an ancient lock has been fastened shut inside your cunt.

Your king carries you back to the dry stone floor. He lays you down and kisses you softly, heatedly, passionately. He kisses you as a lover should, like you're consummating a bond. A contract, signed in the twist of his tongue against yours.

The two of you do not leave that cave for a long while, taking the time to explore one another's bodies in every way you can dream up. You finally taste his cock, swallow his cum and find you love the taste, and Boba likewise licks and eats your pussy like he's a man starved.

When it's time to depart, you do so a changed woman. Boba Fett's body has left its touchmark on your soul. Now that you know true pleasure, the gratifying gift of submission to him, you couldn't imagine not going with him for at least some time. Leaving with him has become a need more than a want. You'll return someday, to rule and guide your people as you should, but not before you explore life with Boba for a while.

He promises so much, so many experiences and pleasures and truths. You can't let those promises go unfulfilled.

-

When Din enters the throne room, he surveys the space, as he always does when he walks through a doorway. Little is out of place.

Boba is seated upon the throne, conversing with a supplier, helmet betraying exactly as much emotion as Din's own does. From the grip Fett has on the arm of the throne, however, it's clear the negotiations aren't going to turn out well for the snivelling merchant.

Shand is leaning against a wall, jar of spotchka clutched in one hand, gesticulating with the other. She's smiling, which is rare for her, as she speaks in a tone Din can't quite hear.

Next to her is a girl Din's never seen in the palace before. She's dressed rather strangely - a thick cloak with fur trim over dark clothes, pants tucked into leather boots and some sort of shirt-tunic on her torso.

Certainly not suitable for the weather on Tatooine. In fact, Din would wager that's the clothing of someone from a snow planet.

He walks further into the room and catches the attention of Fennec and her friend. They both look at him; Fennec only for a second, but her companion's gaze lingers. Din thinks he sees something akin to curiosity - perhaps surprise - in her eyes, but it's hard to tell.

Her head turns to look directly at Boba, eyebrows raised. The other bounty hunter dips his head in acknowledgement.

Din stops in his tracks, unsure of the dynamic he's just walked into.

"You're excused," Boba barks, waving a hand at the supplier, who yelps and scurries out of the room.

He then rises from his seat and makes his way down to where Din's standing. He removes his helmet - an action that still makes Din tense up, even with everything that's happened - and tucks it under an arm. He sticks his other hand out and Din shakes it, nodding once.

"It went well, I assume?" Boba's almost smiling, which is a rare sight to see on his usually sullen visage.

Din nods again. "Yes. He's doing… he's doing great."

If he took his own helmet off, Din's smile would be clear as day.

Boba claps his hand against Din's shoulder, an amicable gesture that Din must remind himself is a sign of friendship, not posturing. Old habits die hard.

"I've got someone I'd like you to meet, Djarin," Boba says, turning towards the women who stand, watching them, not too far away.

They walk over. Fennec takes a sip of her spotchka, while the girl glances between him and Boba. For the life of him, he can't figure out where she might have come from, or what her role will be here. She's pretty, that much he will readily admit. Her eyes are bright and alert in a way that tells him she sees more than she lets on, and her stance is simultaneously relaxed and braced for conflict. He knows it well - it's as easy as beskar to spot.

She holds herself like a warrior.

She’s also young - certainly the youngest in the room.

Boba's voice pulls Din out of his thoughts. "This is our newest crew member. She'll be helping us with our… over-the-table dealings, in exchange for training."

Confused, Din tilts his head. "Training? What kind of training?"

"That's where I'd hoped you'd be able to help," Boba tells him. The girl looks from Fett to him, eyes focused right on his own through the visor.

"I need guidance in the Force. Boba said you have connections to people who could help me master my Force sensitivity."

Well, he supposes that's at least somewhat true. Ahsoka may be willing, but given how it went with Grogu, he wouldn't count on her.

"I'll see what I can do," he responds. As is his habit, he props his hand on his belt, hip jutting out just so.

The girl's eyes flicker down and back up again.

Boba clears his throat. "In the meantime, the princess and I have other matters to attend to."

He reaches out to her, and at first Din thinks he's going to grasp her shoulder in his firm grip like he tends to do with all of his close acquaintances.

Din quickly sees that this girl is much more than just a close acquaintance.

Boba’s hand finds its place on her neck, thumb tucked under her jaw and fingers wrapped around the base of her skull, tangled in her loose hair. As if they’ve done it a million times before, they lean towards one another. The girl’s eyes flutter closed, a soft smile on her face, while Boba’s study her unabashedly.

Their lips connect, heatedly, and Din knows his surprise shows in his movements. He glances over to Fennec, who just smirks at him.

The couple in front of him kiss one another completely without shame. Boba’s grip tightens to the point it looks almost painful, but the girl simply presses closer in response. She brings a hand up to rest on his chestplate, the only bare skin visible besides her face and neck.

Despite how warm his cheeks feel, Din can’t look away. He feels a rush of blood out of his head at the sight in front of him.

Boba and his lover kiss for another long moment before pulling away. He slides his hand to her hip, casually pulling her along as if he’d simply taken her by the hand.

She falls into step beside him, looking more comfortable than Din’s ever seen anyone next to Boba Fett. As they walk away, the girl glances back at Din, her observant gaze piercing right through him. Right through the beskar of his helmet.

And then she turns back, content in the embrace of the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy.

[waiting4inspiration]

Obey X: Mission to Destroy

Summary: Bucky apologizes for what he had done on the last mission but you say that you're not mad at him. You mention that even though you have files on yourself, you don't know if you have the heart to see what's in it.

Warnings: angst, small fluff, strong language, mentions of triggering, nothing much because it's a really short part but if I missed something, please let me know

Word Count: 1,707

Obey Masterlist II Marvel Masterlist

Going through everything in your mind to find something specific is like meditating. You need quiet so you can block out everything around to focus one thing as you sit with your legs crossed under you and your hands resting on your knees. It’s always been the most comfortable position for you when you look for something with the database in your mind.

Sometimes, it’s a file on someone, a target you’re looking for, and someone you need information for. This time, you’re looking for something that has to do with the Server Hansen spoke about. You’ve never heard of it, but that might be because no one in HYDRA has ever talked about it around you. Probably because they didn’t want you to find out about it should you plan to do what you want to do now; disconnect the chip in your brain.

You didn’t even know there was a chip. You just thought that everything you know, that the files HYDRA uploaded into your mind was just something similar to a memory and that the port in the back of your head was a way to add or alter them.

The chip is probably how they’re able to control you. It’s probably the thing that makes you obey HYDRA whenever your programming is triggered. Hell, it’s probably the thing that has all your programming on it and when Tony tried to delete it, the chip still linked to the HYDRA Server wouldn’t allow that to happen.

Realizing that you’re losing track of your thoughts and no longer concentrating on looking for information on the Server, you breathe out a long sigh and drop your head between your shoulders. You open your eyes, run your hands through your hair, and lift your head back up.

Bucky’s sitting in front of you, his body perking up when you look at him and he shifts on his seat to lean forward. “We need to talk.” He whispers because it feels like he’ll break this peaceful atmosphere you’ve created with the lights off and the dead quiet room.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Bucky,” you reply, pushing yourself off the ground and making him shoot up to his feet to stop you from leaving.

You don’t seem to be angry about what happened, which confuses Bucky because he thought that you would be. But you do seem to be upset. He can tell from the way you refuse to look at him again after you turned your head away from him. “(Y/n),” he softly calls to you, stepping forward and dipping his head so that he can catch your gaze again. “Please look at me.”

You shake your head, a silent sob leaving your lips as tears start to build up in your eyes. “You promised,” you whisper, slowly lifting your head up to look at him. “You promised you wouldn’t trigger my programming,” you say.

“I know,” he sighs, stepping forward only for you to take a step back. “But I also promised that I would protect you and the only way I could do that-”

“Was by triggering me. I know,” you sigh, your shoulders relaxing as you breathe out a sigh. “I’m not angry that you did. I just…” You trail off, shake your head, and wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish there could have been a way for you to warn me before you did. I never realized how much I hate being triggered until now,” you mention, turning away from Bucky to walk a little bit away from him.

Bucky walks towards you, his footsteps making your head turn over your shoulder to look at him and seeing the soft look on his face makes you turn to face him again. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, cupping your face in his hands as he leans forward to press his forehead to yours. “I know I broke a promise. Believe me, I didn’t want to do that,” he says, and you nod your head gently against his hands. “I know you’re not angry. But you have every right to be. And I swear, I will do anything to make this up to you.”

You step forward, rest your hands on his chest and lean into his touch as he gently caresses the top of your cheek. “I just want all this to end. I don’t want HYDRA getting in the way of everything and ruining everything,” you softly say, nuzzling your face against his as he drops his hands away from your face. “And I know I can’t do this alone,” you add, wrapping your arms around his neck and his hands come to rest on your hips.

“I’ll be there. Right by your side, every step of the way” he says, making a smile grow on your face. “And I promise, with all my heart, I won’t trigger your programming again.”

That makes you shake your head. “Don’t make that promise. We both know you might have to break it again,” you say, and he chuckles. “I need to carry on looking for information on this Serve,” you whisper, pulling away from Bucky and stepping backward.

He grabs your hand before you get out of his reach and stops you from walking back to the spot where you were sitting. “You need to rest,” he says, pulling you with him as he starts to head out of the room. You give him an unapproving whine and gently try to pull your hand out of his hold. “No matter what HYDRA says, you’re not a machine, (Y/n),” he jokes, looking over his shoulder back at you while he continues to pull you towards the door.

“I think like one,” you mutter, finally pulling your hand out of him as you come to his side and start walking with him down the corridor. Out the corner of your eye, you see him smirking and you can’t stop yourself from asking the question that suddenly comes to mind. “Have you ever thought about what might have happened if HYDRA never got their hands on you?”

Just as you had expected, his smile drops and you see a somber look fill his eyes. He doesn’t look down at you, keeps his gaze in front of him as he swallows roughly and curls his hand into a fist, making the mechanical parts whirr. “Sometimes,” he mutters, his eyes dropping down to his feet. “I probably would have gone down in that plane with Steve, spent 60 years on ice with him. And I’d follow him through all the trouble he got into. And I would still have ended up here, just in better condition,” he explains, turning his head down to his mechanical arm that he raises slightly in front of him. “That probably means you wouldn’t be here.”

You shrug your shoulders as you turn your head away from looking at him and bite your lower lip. “I don’t know,” you say, more to yourself as you come to a halt in the middle of the corridor.

Bucky turns around after having taken a few steps forward, not expecting you to stop walking. He sees you staring blankly at the ground, as if you’re trying to think of something. “What do you mean you don’t know?” he asks carefully and you give him a knowing look. “What about your life before HYDRA?”

“I…” You trail off, shake your head to yourself as you look out the window beside you. “I don’t remember anything before HYDRA. For all I know-” you look back at Bucky- “I grew up in HYDRA. What if I’m just someone they pulled off the streets and my life before they did was shitty? What if I already was a HYDRA agent? Or the kid of a HYDRA agent? I don’t know if I want to know what my life was like before HYDRA,” you ramble, looking at Bucky with a small frown on your face.

He steps forward, a gentle look on his face as if to tell you that it’s all going to be okay. “Don’t you have files on yourself?” he questions, hoping that it will ease you a bit if you look through them to find out what your life was like before all this happened to you.

“I do. I’m just scared to look at them.”

“Why?” he asks, now standing in front of you yet again. Only, this time he’s afraid to reach out to touch you as a means to comfort you because he’s scared you might cry. He’s seen you close to crying a few times, but never has he seen a tear roll down your cheek because you were sad. In pain, yes. But he’s never seen you crying out of sadness.

You take a breath, close your eyes and drop your head between your shoulders. “Because I’m scared that if I look and see what my life was like, and I see that it was terrible, I’d feel that HYDRA did me a favor,” you explain. Your file pops into your mind’s eye but like always, you don’t look into it. You don’t want to see the memories that have been taken away from you. “Even if it was good-” You laugh, shaking your head as you look up at Bucky again- “it would just be something else that they’ve taken from me.”

Bucky understands. Because even if HYDRA never got their hands on him and he ended up not following Steve into decades of hibernation, he likes to think that maybe he would have settled down, found a girl and got married to her, had a family, that kind of domestic life. But again, it was something that HYDRA took from him.

“Still, you could have some good memories,” he softly mentions, catching your interest and making your head tilt to the side. “Sometimes, they’re good for helping you get through tough times.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth and you shift on your feet. “Does it help you?”

He chuckles, smiling down at you as he joins you by your side again. “Most of the time,” he simply mentions before urging you to start walking again.

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[angryschnauzer]

Overnight

Summary: It may have been a mistake to get off the highway, your car breaking down on an abandoned back road. But just in time a tow truck appears, and the mechanics garage isn't far away... but when you find out the parts will be delivered overnight, you storm off towards town... and somehow find yourself where you least expect.

Pairing: AU Mechanic Chris Evans x Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Dubious Consent, AU, Greasy Mechanic Chris, Backroads Fic, Unprotected Sex, Thunderstorms, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, unprotected anal sex, Sloppy Seconds, Kitchen Sex, Dark Chris, Slightly Creepy Fic

A/N: This is a slightly twisted story, i wouldn’t say it was ‘dark’, but it does have a slightly sinister undertone. I’m also tagging it as dub-con (dubious consent) as although reader never says no, she is never asked either. This is very much a work of fiction, and i urge the reader to take responsibility for their online consumption, so ensure you read the warnings before reading and then only proceed once you have accepted what this story may contain. It is not a light and fluffy fic.

I do not operate a tag list, but you can follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, as every time i post a story i will reblog there. I have too many stories to do a masterlist, but you can find my entire back catalgoue on AO3 through THIS LINK.

A while back i also wrote a Seb AU Mechanic fic, and here is the link for that: Caught In The Storm

Overnight

You should NOT have turned off the interstate. Sure, you would be stuck in bumper to bumper tailbacks in the searing heat, but surely it would have been better than this. The further you’d driven, the worse your car had sounded, the metallic clanking sound getting louder and louder the further you drove. Something made a loud THUD and you felt the power steering go, and glancing in your rear-view mirror a large oil patch was appearing behind your car as it slowly started to cough and splutter, before coasting to a halt on the side of the cracked road. As the engine died you thumped the steering wheel, cursing and screaming at the broken piece of junk, before with heavy limbs you pulled yourself from the car. 

 Standing on the rough gravel at the side of the road, your hands on your hips, you glowered at the car, a faint hiss of steam coming from beneath the hood. The sun beat down and you could feel the heat of the day sinking into your bones, gnats and midges trying to gnaw at your skin as you slapped them angrily away. Dark clouds grew on the horizon but did little to obscure the beating sun high above you. 

 Checking your cell phone you weren’t surprised to see the no service icon, you were in the middle of nowhere, more likely to be dragged into the surrounding swamp and eaten by god knows what than to be able to call anyone. Just as you were lamenting your woes, the sound of an old diesel engine came rumbling to yours ears, and glancing down the road you saw an ancient tow truck coming into view. Standing in the road you waved your arms to flag the vehicle down; even if it couldn’t help then maybe it could take you to a working phone.

 The truck came to a stop in front of your car, and as the engine cut off and the driver’s door opened, you felt your body go tight. The man that climbed down from the cab looked like sin on a Sunday, long denim clad legs striding towards you, ball cap on backwards doing little to shade his face from the pounding sunshine, and a t-shirt that seemed to be painted onto his broad chest and wide shoulders;

 “In a spot of trouble there darlin’?”

 You let out a huff, you weren’t about to let some back roads hick try and charm his way into your panties… though said panties were suddenly becoming damper by every second he stood close to you. Shaking your head, you stood tall and puffed your chest out;

 “My car has died. If I could borrow your phone to call Triple A, I haven’t got any signal on mine…”

 The guy looked you up and down, his gaze resting on your chest as a bead of perspiration ran down your neck and between your breasts, his tongue darting out to wet his lips;

 “AAA don’t come out here, its subcontracted out to us locals. I’m on my way back to the garage now if you want a tow Sweetheart?”

 Letting out a deep sigh you nodded, returning to your car to grab your purse as the man started to unreel the towing line and called out to you;

 “Hop up into the cab Princess, this won’t take a moment”

 Rolling your eyes at the pet names you bit your tongue; the guy was after all helping you out. Gripping the handle of the tow trucks door you looked down at the old worn paintwork ‘Evans Autos’. You quickly fished your phone out of your bag and snapped a shot, setting it to upload to the iCloud once you got in range of any signal… at least that way if this greasy backroads mechanic chopped you into little pieces you had left a trail of evidence. 

 Pulling the door open you let out a small yelp when you came face to face with a big brown dog sitting on the passenger seat;

 “Scoot!”

 The dog looked at you with utter disdain, and firmly remained sat on the seat. Waving your hands a little you frowned at it;

 “C’mon, scoot over!”

 Over the sound of the towing winch whining at it pulled your car up onto the truck, you heard the mechanic call out;

 “You’ll have to climb over Dodge… he likes the window seat”

 Turning back to the big mutt you could have sworn it had a smug ‘so there’ look on its face, and as you climbed up and around the dog, you sat in the middle of the wide bench seat. Looking around you couldn’t find any seatbelts, so just sat with your hands firmly clasped in your lap. The sounds of lockers being shut hit your ears before the driver’s door opened and the mechanic climbed into the seat next to you and grinned;

 “Best hold on Babe, it’s a bumpy ride to the garage”

 “I’ll be fine, thanks” you muttered as he gunned the engine and pulled away.

 -

 He hadn’t been lying; the roads were atrocious. With each bump and pothole you were bounced closer to him, the dog the other side of you seemingly able to spread out across not only his seat but part of yours. You could have sworn the mechanic was aiming for every single bump possible just to be able to watch your breasts bounce as the truck hit each stone. 

 With each jolt and jiggle your thigh was pressed closer and closer against his, and when the truck hit a huge hole in the road you felt yourself almost  lifted from the seat, suddenly pinned back by his strong arm quickly thrown across your torso to hold you down and from slipping from the seat. The skin of his tattooed bicep was pressed against the exposed neckline and chest, his scent invading your senses; a warm spicy aftershave and motor oil and gasoline. You could feel your panties getting wetter as your legs parted so you could plant your feet on the dusty floor of the truck but it did little to alleviate the aching between your thighs. 

 Finally he slowed the truck and turned the wheel into a sharp left-hand turn, the truck bouncing along a gravel driveway until an old wooden auto shop came into view. Pulling the truck to a stop he climbed out, holding his hand out for you;

 “Dodge likes to sleep in the cab…”

 Rolling your eyes you took his hand and climbed out as gracefully as you could, your short sundress sticking to the seat before you yanked it down to retain what was left of your dignity;

 “So Babycakes, there’s a coupla’ chairs round the side if you want to take a seat whilst I look at your car, and an icebox on the counter just inside the shop, help yourself to a water”

 “Umm, thanks”

 -

 You glanced at the time on your phone. You’d been waiting three hours; the sound of your car being taken to pieces by the mechanic was all you’d heard for most of that time. The only thing that seemed to have changed in those three hours was the humidity rising and the storm clouds coming closer. Rising to your feet you stretched your limbs and turned the corner of the auto shop, glancing at the mechanic as he lay on the floor below your sorry looking car as it was raised on the hydraulic lift;

 “Sir?”

 “Chris”

 “What?”

 “It’s Chris, not Sir…”

 “Ok, Chris. Do you know how much longer it’ll be?”

 Chris pulled himself out from beneath your car, wiping his hands on a rag that was hanging from the back pocket of his jeans;

 “For today, I’ll probably be done in an hour…”

 “Great!”

 “... but I need to overnight the parts I need, so it won’t be ready until tomorrow”

 “What? When were you going to tell me that?”

 “I’ve just ordered the parts Honey”

 You let out a grunt of frustration;

 “Fine. I’ll be back tomorrow… you could have told me sooner”

 You turned on your heel and started to walk away;

 “Where ya’ goin’?”

 “To find a motel, or a guesthouse, or somewhere to stay at!”

 “On foot?!”

 “YES!”

 -

 You had stormed off, anger driving your feet as your white sneakers slowly got covered in brown dust that puffed up from the gravel driveway with every step you took towards the road. Finally you reached the cracked asphalt, taking a sharp right-hand turn and you started along the road. By now the humidity was hanging in the air and it felt like you were walking through soup. Even the midges had given up, their tiny wings not strong enough to cut through the cloying stillness. The sun was now obscured by dark clouds, but you continued on. Finally a crossroads came into view, and you willed your heat-tired muscles to push on, coming to the sign and stopping. The shortest distance was to take a right, so scrambling over the accumulated gravel you continued your journey. 

 -

 An hour later your legs were weary. Your dress clung to your skin as sweat beaded across your brow, down your chest and back. You held your arms out as you walked, hoping just by moving they would cool your skin, but having little affect.

 Finally a small house came into view, further buildings behind it mostly hidden by trees. The hair on your arms stood on end with Goosebumps and you could smell petrichor on the air, you knew the storm was about to break. Quickening your step you found the energy to trot down the rest of the way, past the worn mailbox with most of the letters worn away, the last three just spelling out ‘van’, but you were oblivious, the first raindrop hitting your skin and you sprinted towards the house. 

 By the time you reached the porch the parts of your dress that weren’t stuck to your skin due to sweat were doing so thanks to the rain. A crack of thunder boomed as a flash of lightning lit the sky, and as you cowered under the porch you heard a bark and a very wet brown dog suddenly ran for cover, shivering on the doorstep. Another crack of thunder made you jump, and the dog cowered against you, you crouching down to wrap your arms around the scared creature. Looking at the name tag that hung from its collar you read it; ‘Dodger’, and your heart plummeted to your stomach. Before you could even fathom what had happened, a familiar voice was behind you;

 “You were walking over an hour and you still manage to find your way back here?”

 Turning you looked out to the lawn where Chris stood, the rain pouring over him, his t-shirt stuck to every curve of his body and his jeans hanging low on his narrow hips. Slowly striding towards you he wiped the rain from his face as he stepped under the porch, reaching around you and opening the door to the small cabin;

 “You took a right and another right, didn’t ya?”

 “How did you…?”

 “Well, if you hadn’t stormed off in a huff, I woulda told you to turn left at the end of the driveway. Instead walked a giant triangle and found yourself back here”

 You let out a strangled noise, not quite a cry, not quite a scream, before your body sagged;

 “Can you… can you give me a ride into town?”

 “Nope”

 “No?!”

 “The town is tiny. All we got is a church, a market, and a drug store. Nearest motel ain’t for thirty miles, and you wouldn’t wanna stay there… unless you like cockroaches”

 You could feel your bottom lip quiver, trying to hold back the tears before Chris’s voice softened;

 “I got a couch you can stay on, no funny business, no obligations…”

 He was close, so close. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and you found your mouth moving before your brain could stop it;

 “What if I wanted funny business?”

 There was no more preamble, no more hesitating, he stepped forwards, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other on your waist as he pulled your body flush against his own, his lips meeting yours.

 The kiss was fierce, your mouth willingly opening as his tongue pushed against your own, dancing together as you tasted one another. His hand on your hip pulled at your dress, curling it up in his fingers until your skin was there to touch, his large hand gripping the soft cheek of your ass. He pushed you back, the hardness of the wooden clapperboards of his cabin rough against your skin, but you were blissfully unaware of it. He pressed one leg between yours and you ground your hips against the firm denim clad muscle of his thigh, in turn the thick hardness that was growing between your bodies he rubbed against your hip, moaning into your mouth as the friction helped release some of the tension that had built during the day. 

 Snaking a hand between your bodies, your dress had already ridden up so he was easily able to slide a hand into your panties, leaving streaks of motor oil across the pale fabric as he sought out your clit. Pushing two wide fingers down he found your soaked entrance and gathered some of your wetness, before bringing his fingers back and rubbing firm circles against your sensitive bud. His lips parted from yours, resting his forehead to your own for a moment you panted into his mouth, the air between you hot and thick, before those kiss plump lips make their way to your neck, sucking and licking at your jugular as his beard scratched against your skin. 

 Your head lolled back and rested against the wooden side of the building, the storm raging around you as you felt your orgasm starting to build. Your hands clung to Chris’s strong arms, his skin patterned with tattoos that you yearned to run your fingertips over tenderly. Your body started to shake, your orgasm growing closer as that coil in the pit of your stomach wound ever tighter, your hand finding its way to the firm bulge that was pressing against your hip, and as you squeezed the hot muscle through the denim you started to come, Chris’s mouth finding your own against as he swallowed your cries of passion. 

 He stilled his fingers as you trembled against him, quickly unfastening the buttons of his fly and pushing the garment down just enough to free his thick cock, taking hold of your thighs as he lifted you.  With strong hands he gripped at your panties before ripping them from your body, the ruined pieces of cotton falling to the floor at your feet. You felt the wide tip press against your still trembling entrance and with a grunt he thrust into you, filling you completely as you screamed out his name.

 You clung to him as he started to fuck you roughly against the wall, the wet sounds of your bodies meeting being drowned out by the storm now wild overhead. With each thrust your body was sent to heavy, the thick stretch of him inside you making your legs tremble as he held one leg over his hip, letting you try and keep the other held up as he pawed at your breasts, pulling your dress and bra down until you spilled out, your tits bouncing with each of his powerful thrusts. 

 No words were spoken, your moans the only thing that could leave your lips as Chris fucked you so hard you were sure you’d never be able to close your legs again and made roadkill of your pelvis with his powerful thrusts. You were trembling around him and you were getting closer and closer to coming again. His lips were on your neck again and muttering the dirtiest things in your ear;

 “Are you gonna cum on my cock babe? Make me fill you with my cum until its dripping down your legs… you’re squeezing me so damn tight, gonna pump you full then take you inside, make you sit on my face, would you like that? Wanna feel my tongue on your cunt?”

 “Oh fuck… Chris, yes… fuck, keep going…”

 He laughed quietly before picking up speed, the slapping sound of his heavy sac against your ass filling your ears as the wide root of his cock rubbed and dragged against your clit. With a grind of his hips you were coming, your fingernails clinging to his back as you shook with pleasure, triggering his own orgasm as he pumped hot ropes of creamy seed deep within your womb.

 Holding you against the wall, he kissed you, his tongue working against your own before he slowly pulled out of you, letting your feet fall to the floor. Your head swam from the pleasure surging through your body, only partially aware of Chris pulling his jeans up enough to keep them on his hips before he wrapped his arms around your waist and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you inside.

 Moments later you were being dropped onto a large bed, the covers messy from when the previous occupant had simply gotten up and dressed that morning, and you watched as Chris stripped his soaked clothes from his body before crawling onto the bed, his gaze feral as he pressed a line of kisses up your sternum before his lips found yours again. His fingers worked deftly against the ties of your wrap summer dress, pulling it open and helping you to wriggle out of it; all whilst his lips never left yours. 

 Finally he pulled away, his strong arms bulging as he flipped you over and pulled your hips up until you were resting on your knees. His wide tongue pulled a thick stripe through your cum soaked folds, from clit to asshole, before grinding his face against your crotch. His tongue was everywhere, sucking on your clit before moving to your well fucked entrance, then moving up and pressing against the tight ring of muscle between your asscheeks. With more insistence he pushed his tongue against your back door and you sighed into the old sheets below you, your fingers curling in the cotton as he slid two thick fingers into your soaked channel whilst his tongue worked against your asshole. When his thumb found your clit a shockwave bolted through you, your scream into the mattress from sheer pleasure as you unashamedly ground back against him, moaning his name as your legs shook. He pulled his mouth away and spat on your asshole, working a finger in up to the knuckle and you started to cum, his fingers in your cunt rubbing against that spongy spot whilst his thumb worked figure eights over your clit, and you found yourself squirting your release as you screamed with pleasure.

 You were aware of Chris pulling away, your body trembling and fluid in the prone position. You heard the quiet click of the cap of a bottle before a cool viscous liquid was slowly spread over your ass. The touch of Chris’s fingers exploring your most hidden of places had you pushing back against his touch, relaxing as he slid two oiled fingers slowly into your ass, massaging you, stretching you. By now you were drooling, your tongue working against the cotton sheet as you bore down as he pushed a third finger into your ass, the quiet squirt of more oil being applied directly inside you had you knowing what was coming, and humming a low moan as you felt his fingers pull away only to be replaced with the well-oiled fat crown of his cock. 

 Turning your head you watched as he pushed the wide mushroom into your tight ring of muscle, groaning as your secret walls gripped him so hard. His large hands pulled your cheeks apart and he spat on his dick as he started to push into you, filling you, parting your walls with his meaty girth. You could feel every vein and ridge as he pushed harder, reaching around and rubbing at your clit whilst he rocked his hips back and forth before he was finally balls deep in your ass. 

 “So fuckin’ good, feel so tight around my dick Baby, taking me so well... “

 His mouth was as dirty as you had hoped, praising you for taking his dick in your ass as he started to fuck you, pushing his legs open to widen your own and allow him in even deeper. Your hands scrambled at the covers trying to find something to grip onto, some sort of purchase, before he was suddenly pulling your arms behind your back and gripping your wrists with his massive hands. Folding your arms across your sweat drenched back he used them to anchor himself as he fucked your ass even harder, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you as your empty cunt ached to be filled. As if reading your thoughts - or you could even have said it aloud, who knows you were so high on pleasure - he grasped your arms in one large hand before curling the other arm beneath you, pushing three fingers into your soaked pussy as he fucked your ass so hard you doubted you’d be able to sit down for a week without feeling it.

 “Fuck… gonna cum Baby, gonna fill this ass with cum so deep…”

 “Yes... Chris, FUCK, fuck my ass, I want your cum…”

 “My fucking gorgeous anal cum slut, your cunt is gorgeous, but I’m gonna fuck this ass from now on… never had an ass this good, this tight… gonna have you gaping by the time I’ve finished with you… my cum dripping down your legs, gonna make sure you never wear panties again, need you ready for me to bend you over and push my dick up this tight ass to fill you with another load…”

 Your orgasm took over, gripping Chris’s dick and fingers so hard it set his orgasm off, a second wave of your orgasm so intense that as you felt your body milking Chris, the room went dark and you blacked out.

 -

 The room was dark, the sound of rain outside soothing to your ears as you tried to figure out where you were, then snippets of your memory came back; your car, the garage, Chris… the storm… fucking him… Turning you saw him quietly asleep beside you, you winced as your muscles protested against moving, but the need for water and the bathroom was too much as you quickly slipped out of the room. 

 Having found the bathroom, you attempted to clean yourself up a little before walking through the small cabin to the kitchen, taking a glass from the counter before filling it and drinking the whole thing at the sink and filling it again. Two warm hands wrapped themselves around your naked body from behind, warm lips and a rough beard found your neck and Chris started to kiss along your shoulders, his hands finding your naked breasts as he cupped them whilst grinding his hard dick into the crease of your ass. Setting the glass down you spread your legs a little wider, and a warm hum of appreciation reverberated through Chris’s chest as he dipped his hips whilst pushing you forwards over the old porcelain sink, the smooth crown of his dick pushing against your used asshole, and you felt the pop as he sank into your cum soaked walls.

 Groaning as you leaned forwards and gripped the cool porcelain, you opened yourself up for him as he ploughed into your murky depths, his thick thighs pushing your legs wide apart before he lifted one of your knees until it was resting on the countertop, your other foot only just reaching the floor as you were stood on your toes, Chris fucking your ass harder this time, gripping your hips as he filled you again and again. His hands moved to your breasts and he pinched your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, rolling the hardened teats until they were painfully hard. Snaking his hands up your front he wrapped his fingers over your shoulders so he could pull you back onto him harder, his thrusts increasing in speed. Your cunt was leaking juices down your inner thighs, and with each thrust his heavy sac would slap against it, reminding you of its emptiness, and you found yourself begging;

 “Chris please… fill my pussy…”

 Chuckling he pulled one hand down and spat on it before pushing three fingers into you, all whilst continuing to fill your ass with his fat cock;

 “You like that? You like having all your holes stuffed? You’re just begging to be filled, used, fucked…”

 “Oh fuck… harder… fuck me harder…”

 With a grunt he increased the speed of his thrusts, the front of your thighs pushing painfully against the sink, your leg muscles screaming at the way you were stretched wide open, but the pleasure was too intense to stop, you needed it, you needed the release.

 You came again and Chris fucked you straight through it, somehow finding the skill to fuck you even harder, sliding a fourth finger into your slick channel as he stretched you so wide. Your head swam, the sound of the storm outside closing the world in around you, and as you came again so did he, filling your ass with another load of his cum.

 Afterwards he carried you to his bed, wrapping his hard body around yours as you fell into a dreamless sleep, the reality of the world far far away.

 -

 Handing over the keys you smiled at Chris as you took them from him. Your body ached and was sore beyond belief, but it was certainly a night to remember. You had slept in until well past midday, only waking when your stomach had growled from not eating anything. Picking at some leftovers in Chris’s fridge, you’d found your soaked sundress draped over the back of a kitchen chair, pulling it on you shivered at the damp touch of the fabric before you’d stepped out of the cabin and found Chris fitting the parts he’d had on overnight delivery to your car. The bill had been more than you had expected - the parts costing more than you had in your purse - so when Chris had smirked at you and suggested an alternative payment, you had sighed with pleasure as he’d fucked you bent over the hood of your car, his dick filling your cunt as he had three fingers stretching your ass. You’d cum so hard you were left shaking, and he had pulled out just before he came only to push an inch into your ass and fill you with another load of his cum.

 With your keys in hand you kissed him, your tongues sloppy before you pulled away just as the sound of tyres could be heard on the rough gravel of his driveway, another tow truck pulling up alongside Chris’s. 

 Sitting in your car you gave him a wave as you pulled away, watching the garage disappear into the distance before you turned your attention onto the road ahead, pulling out onto the dry again asphalt, another summer storm starting to gather on the horizon.

 -

 Not thirty minutes later you were standing at the side of the road, kicking the flat tyre before screaming out at the sky in frustration. You checked your cell phone, groaning when you saw the out of service sign, before stashing it back in your purse. 

 The sound of an old diesel engine could be heard in the distance, and you looked up to the sky before closing your eyes;

 “No… it can’t be…”

 Taking a deep breath with your eyes still closed, you heard the engine get closer until it came to an idle beside you, and familiar voice greeting you;

 “Baby… you need a ride?”

 Chris hopped out of the cab, slipping his hand beneath your dress and giving your ass a squeeze;

 “Gotta watch out for that sharp gravel, it’ll blow tyres out real bad…”

 -

 Sitting in the cab you watched as Chris hooked your car back onto the tow truck, before ducking back inside the truck, this time just the two of you;

 “Where’s Dodger?”

 “Sleeping on the porch… Now, we’re gonna have to order you a new tyre Baby…”

“Let me guess, it’ll be delivered overnight?”

 He leant back and started to unbutton his jeans;

 “You never got to taste my dick last night… how about you try it now whilst I finger that ass ready for the next round? Huh Baby?”

 Settling onto your knees on the wide seat, you took him into your mouth, sucking him as he started the truck, unaware of the rusty nail that he dropped into the pocket of the door, a small piece of tyre rubber still attached to it… he’d found you, and he wasn’t about to let you drive off into the sunset...

[aprilsrant]

Start Over | Oliver Wood x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: (Y/N) has anger issues and a bad reputation that follows. Oliver seems to be the only one who hasn’t been on the receiving end of her outbursts and there might be a hidden reason for it.

WORD COUNT: 2,3k.

WARNINGS: Marcus Flint being an idiot and a missoginy brat, it’s kind of angsty towards the end. Maybe a curse word or two. There is a fight and a duel too. (If I miss any, let me know!)

REQUEST: can’t find it, but yes, this was requested.

A/N: This took me so long and I’m so sorry, but for some reason I couldn’t get this finished. Hope you enjoy it! Like, reblog or leave comment if you like, feedback is always appreciated!!

Also, I made the reader have a holly wand because details are important sometimes.

English is not my first language, there could be mistakes!

Gif is not mine!!

MASTERLIST.

For whatever stupid, possibly misogynist, reason, Marcus Flint never allowed girls to tryout for the Slytherin Quidditch Team, not even when he, and everyone else present, knew of their talent and how much it would benefit them. Now more than ever, with that Harry Potter kid catching every single Snitch flying round him, Flint’s team needed new members. And members that actually knew how to play and not those who would pay their way in. 

Once again, (Y/N) was waiting in the stands for the Slytherin Captain and the whole group attempting to grab themselves a spot. Arriving before them gave her an “advantage” and that was not being completely disregarded the minute Flint saw her in the midst of the line up following him like some kind of lost puppys. 

With nothing else to do than just stand round the edge of the Quidditch Pitch, (Y/N) looked up and watched as a few Gryffindors threw the Quaffle towards one of the three hoops. She didn’t even know why people kept trying out to be a Chaser in Wood’s team when the current three were the best they had. And they were all women. Who would have thought that girls could play that well, right? 

(Y/N) didn’t know why she continued to insist when she was aware that Flint would never let her be on the team. Maybe because it was her last year, or because she had a tiny spark of hope inside of her that something, pretty much a miracle, would happen and the boy’d change his mind, finally acknowledging that (Y/N) was better than the two Slytherin beaters together. 

“What are you doing here, (Y/L/N)?,” the voice of the Slytherin Captain brought her back from the train of thoughts. Glancing towards the Pitch, she realised that it was empty, the only Gryffindor there was Oliver Wood, seating in the opposite set of stands with a notebook and a pencil in his hand. Upon seeing Flint and the trail of Slytherins behind him, he rolled his eyes and quickly left his spot, steps faltering after hearing Marcus’s irritated tone. “I told you, multiple times may I remind you, that I don’t want girls in my team, and especially not those who want to be beaters.”

This was something she saw coming, of course, and she’d tried to assume it for the last couple of days every time the image of being rejected, again, would pop into her head, replaying the times were she had actually been rejected as if her own mind was trying to torture her.

She had also seen the other part coming, and she had tried to stop it. But in her defense, when Professor Snape interrogated her an hour later, Marcus Flint kind of deserved it. 

“Why not, Flint? I’ve been trying to get in the team ever since you became Captain and decided I wasn’t good enough after our fourth year,” (Y/N) had said, voice raising after more words left her mouth. With her broomstick in hand, she stepped down the stands and marched towards him. 

“You said it yourself, (Y/N), you weren’t, and still aren’t, good enough,” Marcus responded while shrugging his shoulders arrogantly and walking past her. 

“I was good enough, you prick, I was better than just good enough and you fucking know it.” All of the group that had gathered to try out turned their heads in her direction when she started to scream, whispers and shared glances expectant of the outcome of the argument. Pushing a third year in front of her out of her way, she kept walking, stopping only after she was face to face with Marcus. “And how can you be so sure I’m not adequate? You haven’t even let me fly around the Pitch for the last two years.”

Ignoring her, Flint commanded the two boys carrying the box full of equipment to leave it on the floor and start to warm up. 

“Can you… Can you, please, let me try this one time?,” (Y/N) whispered, burying her pride and dignity in the same coffin after the word please escaped from her mouth. 

“Now you’re begging, you are pathetic, (Y/L/N), and they say you’re supposed to be dangerous” the boy exclaimed, clearly enjoying seeing her so desperate. He walked towards her, his taller figure towering over the girl. “Let me tell you something. Both of us were on the team, right now one is the Captain and the other one… Well, I’m pretty sure you know your exact position in this whole thing. And that’s why you are not in my place, because you are not good enough.”

Her teeth, jaw and fists clenched at the same time, the rest of her body shaking slightly, lighting up on fire with every sentence Marcus sneered at her. 

From a young age she had people question her, her interests and her decisions, even her place in the House of ambition, many believing the girl to be “too soft” at first. That had changed after the start of her second year. If they wanted her to be violent, rash and reckless, that’s what they got. Now, every time her name was mentioned around Hogwarts, whispers and rumours would be shortly behind. Most of the things people said about her were incorrect, not even close to the truth, but she accepted them anyways. She took each one of the rumours and turned them into her truth.

For some (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was on the right path to become a Dark Witch, a pureblood longing to take on Lord Voldemort’s place and rule over the Wizarding World, torturing muggleborns and blood traitors. To others, she was the Devil’s offspring in the flesh, waiting for the right moment to raise the forces of hell upon Hogwarts. And they were the ones speaking of her mental state while coming up with ridiculous theories. Nonetheless, she had to admit it was a new kind of entertainment seeing the first years getting warned about her, bombarding them with false information and stupid allegations. But the laughs she would have from it on her own company didn’t erase the loneliness and the solemn feeling of having no one. 

Like the symbol of her house, (Y/N) was a creature of instinct. And like what people murmured about her, (Y/N) was also a creature of violence.

As only one can imagine, no one was shocked from the response Marcus Flint got. Not in words, or insults, which were regular, but in the form of a fist connecting with his cheek (although she had intended to hit the nose). 

One would think anger makes people a better fighter, all that pent up rage coming from nowhere and lashing out against your opponent it’s more damaging to you than the person you are fighting. Now, this was not (Y/N)’s first fist fight but that didn’t mean she knew what she was doing. Every time she had punched someone it had happened in the midst of uncontrollable wrath growing, attaching itself to the girl’s body, controlling her limbs, numbing her mind.

For a moment she closes her eyes, one thought in her mind, vanishing as quickly as it appeared, — I did it. Again —. When (Y/N) opens them, she notices the change of scenario, or positions. She is no longer standing on her feet, she is several metres away from her housemate, the back of her body on the receiving end of the harsh floor; the loud beating of her heart thundering in her ears, almost giving her a headache, swallowing the spell Flint had used on her. 

After rising from the grass, (Y/N) marches towards him, holly wand in her hand shooting hexes, barely missing its target. She’s about to whisper the Stunning Spell when someone from behind grabs her wrist, holding her back from trying to curse Marcus, whose responses are getting slower and scarcely protecting him. An arm sneaks around (Y/N)’s figure, distancing her from the Slytherin Quidditch Captain. 

Her elbow moves almost instinctively and hits the person behind her in the stomach, the arm around her waist retreating fast enough for (Y/N) to cast a protection charm and petrify Marcus Flint. 

Turning around, she sees none other than Oliver Wood, bending over his stomach with a hand clenching his right knee and gasping for air.

“What the bloody hell was that, Wood?”

“I was trying to help you!,” he manages to say while looking up at her.

“Help me? You were trying to stop me, you twat.”

“Exactly!,” Oliver shouts, making her move backwards, “Do you want to get yourself expelled, (Y/L/N)? Because if that’s what you want, you are doing an excellent job.”

She should have hexed him right there, no one else was on the Quidditch Pitch with them, except the handful of Slytherins and those weren’t the snitching types, but she didn't, surprising herself and everyone else watching them.

||| 

Later that night, after finishing the horrendous detention Snape had put her in —reorganizing his entire cabinet claimed by suspicious ingredients and potions with terrible smells, making the small space smell like rotten eggs and the Gryffindor Quidditch robes after a rough match—, looking at the moon and the landscape surrounding Hogwarts from the Astronomy Tower, she thought about the reasons to why she hadn’t raised her wand, or fist, to face Oliver. 

He wasn’t special. Yes, he was a great wizard, with problems in Potions and History of Magic, still quite good at Defensive spells but not that good to beat her if she was fully focused, he would be easy to defeat especially after Quidditch tryouts. So, why? Why did she just walk away?

“I knew I could find you here.”

(Y/N) turned around, quickly taking hold of her holly wand and raising it towards the tower’s entrance. The thundering in her chest calming, her breathing going back to its normal pace when she realised it wasn’t Sirius Black, the murderer that had escaped Azkaban and was said to have roamed through the castle. 

“What are you doing here, Oliver?”, she addressed him once the moonlight illuminated his tall figure.

“I wanted to apologise,” the boy admitted, his voice faltered just like his approach, as if he was trying to make peace with a beast; as if he was telling a snake that his feet would not come close to its head, “for what I said earlier. It wasn’t fair because I know how you…”

“How I what? How I tend to react when I’m angry?,” (Y/N) interrupted, the hand holding her wand still facing Oliver, “don’t try to act like you know me.”

“But I used to,” he murmured.

Neither of them said anything, both of their minds desperately trying to find the right words, one to plead for forgiveness once again and the other to accept it if the plea ever escaped his mouth.

The distant sound of creatures soaring through the night sky and the flip of their wings was all they heard for minutes, minutes that had felt like hours; she would dare to say days if the sky wasn’t still dark, filled with bright stars circling a full moon. 

“Why don’t we get to know each other all over again? We can start over, please.”

There it was.

And then it came.

“That’s such a great idea, Oliver!,” (Y/N) answered with a big smile on her face, the quick change of demeanour unsettling Oliver. They hadn’t talked in years but he was still amazed at how much he remembered of her, and how this didn’t mean any good. “We can get to know each other like all those years ago and then, you can abandon me like all those years ago”. The grin on her lips transforming into a scowl right after she pronounced the last part of her sentence.

“Why are you even here, Wood? You felt guilty and now you’re trying to make it go away? Or is it charity?,” the Slytherin kept ranting,” or better yet, someone challenged you to do this? I’m putting all my money on the Weasley Twins. 

“N-No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Oliver explained while moving his hands and walking the final steps leading him to (Y/N),“ I just- I never- I, I never wanted this, I never expected it but everyone was talking about you and-and they were saying horrible things and…”

“And you believed them,” (Y/N) stated, turning around to stop facing him and his hurt expression,” I don’t blame you for doing it. It’s quite funny if you think about it.”

“What’s quite funny?,” his gaze still on her when he asked.

“Most of the things you and the rest of the school heard were invented by me, so people would just stop bothering me,” she pretended to confess only to the stars, for if she didn’t, she would never admit it to him,” you can say I planned my entire doom. And it’s quite funny because, in the end, you still believed me.”

“You could have told me, (Y/N). Why didn’t you?”

“You believed the rumours, I’m sure not the craziest ones though, but that tells me that you thought I was capable of actually doing all the terrible things I said about myself.”

“I’m sorry, I am, (Y/N), truly.”

“Sorry doesn’t mend it,” she murmured, now forcing herself to look him in the eyes and act as if the pain never happened; as if she hadn’t missed his company and his random, permanently out of place Quidditch facts.

“I know, but it’s everything I have right now and I hope you can forgive me one day.”

“I have already forgiven you, Oliver, but I was too proud to reach you.”

“Typical you, (Y/N). I should have expected it.”

A small smile formed in her lips and for a moment she forgot their broken friendship, the reputation that had become her shadow and the future awaiting after Hogwarts. It was only them, (Y/N) and Oliver, with the moon glowing down on their faces and the feeling of being eleven year olds settling over their minds.

taglist: @gcdric​ @lilac-wrists​ @cappsikle​ @aesthetically-hailey​ @shadowsinger11​ @slytherinsunrise​ @theweasleysredhair​ 

If you want me to add you to the taglist, send an ask or dm me!!

[tendouthighs]

Characters: Osamu

Time period: aged up! Osamu

Warnings: smut, 18+, slight degradation, slight praise, slight hair pulling, fingering, giving head, intercourse

Word count: Around 1.6k

Genre: Smut

Gender: Fem/Male/Gen

Synopsis: Sometimes one twin isn’t enough. That’s where, Osamu Miya, you’re boyfriends twin brother comes into play without Atsumu knowing. He’s not hard to convince in your defence

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Miya Osamu:

“W-we shouldn’t be doing this” Osamu grunted as Y/N worked her way down the buttons of his shirt, “it’s not right.” Pulling the shirt off Osamu’s sweaty body Y/N licked her lips in delight, “it’s not like anyone will know.. you won’t tell, right Osamu?”

The pout that settled across Y/N’s lips, with her black bralette strap falling from her shoulder, in her little skirt, sends jolts down Osamu’s spine; causing him to gulp in anticipation. Running her hands down to Osamu’s belt buckle, Y/N grips it and rests back on his thighs, “you can keep secrets, can’t you?”

Swallowing once more Osamu plants his hands on Y/N’s hips, breathing in a silent shaky breath. “The real question,” Osamu roughly pulls Y/N on his lap, his forming bulge pressing against her thin thong, “is if you can keep quiet.”

Wrapping her arms around Osamu’s neck, Y/N brought her self closer, slightly grinding on Osamu’s crotch; earning a muffled groan. “Is that a challenge?” Specks of amusement and pure lust reflected in Y/N’s eyes, daring Osamu to advance in his statement.

Roughing gripping Y/N’s hips, Osamu bucked his hips slightly. Harshly grinding into Y/N’s dampening underwear, and creating friction against his now hardened, covered member; making Y/N whimper and press her face into Osamu’s neck, biting lightly. “Depends how you take it sweetheart,” sliding his hands down Y/N’s hips and to her thighs, Osamu slips his hands under her skirt, tightly squeezing Y/N’s ass.

Whispering hotly into Osamu’s ear, Y/N tugs on Osamu’s grey locks, “We’ll just have to see, won’t we, sweetheart.” The mocking tone in her voice sends Osamu over the edge as he roughly kisses Y/N, eliciting a loud moan of satisfaction.

Without wasting time, Osamu slipped his tongue into Y/N’s mouth, saliva mixing between each harsh tussle. Moans and saliva passed into each other’s mouths, Y/N’s hands tugging harder on Osamu’s hair. Pulling apart a string of saliva connected the two before behind broken by Osamu.

Roaming his hands back up Y/N’s body, Osamu hastily rips the top over her head; chucking it somewhere in Atsumu’s room, for it to be long forgotten.

Dipping his head Osamu pressed his face into Y/N’s breasts; taking one of her nipples into his mouth. Having Osamu swirl his tongue around one and tweaking the other with his hand, Y/N clenched her thighs together.

Forcefully spreading Y/N’s legs, Osamu ghosted two of his fingers over Y/N’s covered heat, adding slight pressure to hear her whimper.

Sliding Y/N’s thong out the way, Osamu coated his middle and ring finger in Y/Ns slick, pulling away from her perky nipple. “Already this wet and I haven’t even done anything, that’s dirty baby,” the change of tone in Osamu’s husky voice has Y/N clenching around nothing, “clenching from just my words? You really are a dirty whore.”

Before Y/N could protest, Osamu slowly inserted two fingers, barely giving Y/N time to prepare for the stretch, “H-hey! Could of gave me some warning,” a moan cut her off as Osamu slowly pumped his fingers, Y/N’s slick squelching at every movement. “I don’t think you’re in the position to complain,” the smirk is apparent in Osamu’s voice as he hoists Y/N up to have better access; speeding his fingers up immensely.

“Oh fuck- ‘Samu!” Moan after moan tumbled out of Y/N’s mouth, “oh~ right there- yes yes!” Osamu’s other hand left Y/N’s chest and his thumb rubbed fast circles against Y/N’s clit. Whimpers came from Y/N’s mouth, “oh fuck ‘Samu- I’m cumming, I’m Cumming!” With Y/N breathing heavily, and coming down from her high, Osamu smirks lazily, “look who’s loud now.”

Gripping Osamu’s shoulders tightly, Y/N pushed him backwards, landing on his back on Atsumu’s bed, “Can’t have you do all the teasing now can I?” Trailing her hands down Osamu’s slightly toned chest, Y/N bit her lip and gripped Osamu’s belt buckle once again.

“A sense of Deja vu?” The rhetorical question was left on deaf ears and the sound of metal clinking and zips being pulled, heard as Y/N hastily untied Osamu’s belt and unzipped his trousers.

“Eager are we?” Grumbling to herself, Y/N slightly scoffs, face flushed and sweet forming, “just shut up and help me take your pants off.” “Yes ma’am~” The teasing edge to Osamu’s words was completely different to his normal personality.

Osamu quickly chucked his trousers off, and Y/N sits him on the edge of the bed, kneeling between his legs. “Ever had a blow job?” The question seems some what of curiosity, but there’s an underline of mocking. Running his hands through Y/N’s hair, Osamu gets a firm grip and makes Y/N look up at him, “I’ve had my fair few, let’s hope you live up to my standards, you wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?”

Osamu’s voice made Y/N clench around air as she scoffed and pulled Osamu’s boxers down, his rock hard dick springing up. “Don’t ogle too much baby, it still needs to be sucked,” Osamu tugging on her hair, bringing Y/N’s attention to the task at hand.

Ignoring his comment, Y/N spat on the head and spread it slowly over Osamu’s cock, causing him to groan slightly. After a few more sensual strokes, Y/N starts to suck on the top of his dick, earning a hiss and a whisper of “fuck” to be heard from Osamu.

Wrapping her plum lips over Osamu’s dick, Y/N slowly took his member to the back of her throat, going as far as she could, before slowly rising again. Repeating the action, Y/N traced her tongue over the bulging vain at the bottom of Osamu’s shaft, slightly grazing her teeth. “Playing dirty are ya,” Osamu threw his head back. Y/N swallowed before taking him back deeper, jerking what she couldn’t fit.

Osamu wasn’t exactly small.

The tightened grip on Y/N’s hair, and the choked curses that came from Osamu alerted Y/N that he was close. Speeding up, Osamu had Y/N’s hair in a vice grip, bucking his hips to meet her mouth; desperate for his release.

A choked moan of Y/N’s name came from Osamu’s lips, pushing Y/N’s head all the way to the base of his dick, causing tears to form in Y/N’s eyes. Thick bundles of cum shot into Y/N’s mouth with 4 rough spurts.

Catching his breath, Osamu let go of Y/N’s hair, letting her come up for air. Watching Y/N swallow his cum, caused his dick to harden again, longing to be stuffed balls deep into Y/N’s heat.

After licking the last of Osamu’s cum from her lips, Y/N stood up; resting her arms across Osamu’s shoulders. “So how was that?~ Best you ever had I bet-“ Osamu flipped them over, hovering over Y/N’s half dressed form, both of them breathing heavily.

Smacking his lips against Y/N’s the taste of himself on Y/N’s tongue sent arousal straight to his solid member. Ridding himself and Y/N of their last articles of clothing, Osamu pulled away from the kiss.

“Condom?” The words fall from Osamu’s mouth as effortlessly as they fall from Y/N’s, “on the pill”.

Prodding his tip at Y/N’s entrance, Y/N shudders, “don’t go chickening out on me now, Osamu~ we’re way too far to go back now, darling.” The same mocking tone found its way into her words, darkening Osamu’s eyes. “Save your words for Atsumu’s limp dick,” were Osamu’s last words before slamming into Y/N, completely sheathing himself in her dripping pussy.

“F-fuck! Osamu! ‘ts so big,” clutching the bedsheets, Y/N’s eyes roll to the back of her head as Osamu leaves trails of hickeys across her neck. Neither caring about covering within their time of bliss.

Pulling away from Y/N’s neck, Osamu admired his artwork before slowly rolling his hips, “s-shit, you’re tight! Always knew Atsumu didn’t satisfy-“ a rough slap of skin was heard, “-you”.

Putting Y/N’s leg over his left shoulder to get a better angle, Osamu picked up his pace, the sound of skin on skin, and loud moans were heard around Atsumu’s room. The face Y/N was making was being burned into his memory. Y/N had her eyes rolled back, tongue lolled out of her mouth as drool slipped from her mouth and down her chin, and her tits bounced with every harsh thrust.

“I-I’m close Osamu! Ahhhh, fu-uck! Yes! Right there Osamu!” Y/N was screaming in pleasure from being repeatedly pounded by her boyfriends twin brother. Osamu’s thrusts became sloppy as he came closer to his climax, his fingers rubbing frantically at Y/N’s clit.

“Just a little l-longer baby, yer can do that for me, right?” slight mockery filtered into his sentence, both too absorbed in pleasure to care. “Osamu! I-I’m cumming I can’t I-“ jolts wracked Y/N’s body as her second orgasm went through her.

Osamu continued thrusting, coming closer and closer to his high, “nearly there Y/N- just a little more,” Osamu’s calming words brought Y/N into her third climax. Overstimulation coursing through her.

The tightening of her walls caused Osamu to let out a loud moan, and hunch over Y/N’s body as he reached his high. With 4 thick spurts, Osamu emptied his load inside of Y/N; painting her insides white with his cum

Twitching slightly, Osamu pulled out and flopped down next to Y/N. Breathing heavily, Osamu look over at Y/N, watching the rise and fall of her chest “guess I win?”

Confusion swirls in her irises before annoyance comes across her face, forgetting about her own challenge,

“best of three?”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

General Taglist: @mssyprsn @sachirou-senpai

Bro don’t even ask how this happened-

Ignore spelling mistakes ty xoxo it’s 6AM and I haven’t slept yet 🥰

Yes Osamu is OOC. But honestly, that sounds like a you problem <3

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Don’t forget to reblog and like if you enjoy

Follow @tendouthighs for more!

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[jaskicr]

homoerotic sparring (with thirsting and obliviousness)... tender bathing... FEELS... next chapter is (finally) up with these dumb boys!

summary:

Jaskier looks into the mirror. Julian of Cintra stares back at him, and there is almost nothing of Jaskier in that reflection. Gone is the bard who’d wowed the Continent with his songs, and Jaskier grieves for the loss, heart heavy and aching.

He’d managed to discover what he would have been had he not been a witcher, but he will never have it again. Returning to the Path will be painful, knowing that he will once again be rejected by humans, and it leaves a hollowness in Jaskier as he realises that he will no longer be loved. Not anymore.

*

Before Jaskier the bard was born, there was Julian of Cintra, a witcher tired of his life on the Path. Julian gets the life he wants and lives four decades as Jaskier, until he’s forced to return to his life as Julian after the dragon hunt.

As he struggles to reconcile his two identities, Julian finds Geralt and Ciri, and slowly lets himself trust again.

---

“We’re sparring,” Julian tells him, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Geralt quirks a brow. “What?”

“We’re sparring,” Julian repeats, heading over to his pack to grab his steel sword. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been restless, and you’re putting us all on edge.”

“I’m not -” Geralt sputters, and Julian bends down to retrieve his own sword and Geralt’s. There’s a choking sound, and when Geralt speaks up again, his voice is pitched higher, “W-what - Julian, what are you doing?”

“We’re sparring, Geralt.” Julian turns around, a sword in each hand. Geralt is staring at him with his mouth slightly open, and when Julian walks over to him, his throat bobs, eyes flickering down to Julian’s hands. “So that you can release some energy.”

He hands Geralt’s sword to him, and Geralt takes it, brow furrowed. “But -”

Julian lunges at Geralt, sword swinging, and Geralt brings up his own sword to block the blow, their swords clashing with a resounding clang, and Julian bares his teeth in a savage grin as he brings his sword back, readying himself for another blow. 

They circle each other, and Geralt’s brows are furrowed as he says, “Julian, I - I don’t want to hurt you -”

Julian rolls his eyes. For fuck’s sake. 

He presses forward in a flurry of strikes, forcing Geralt onto the defensive as Julian pushes him back, his strikes swift and sure. 

“You won’t hurt me,” Julian pants as he ducks under Geralt’s blade, angling a strike to Geralt’s midriff, which Geralt dodges. “Shut - up - and - fight me.”

Geralt narrows his eyes, and leaps towards Julian, faster than the human eye can follow, but Julian isn’t human. He parries Geralt’s strike and swiftly sweeps out a leg, knocking Geralt’s feet from under him. Geralt neatly tucks into a roll, avoiding another swipe from Julian’s sword and comes up standing, backing away, eyes calculating. 

Julian sinks into a fighting stance, sword at the ready as he braces himself for attack. Sure enough, Geralt slashes at him with a feint, and Julian barely manages to avoid his sword, returning with a few lightning-quick strikes of his own. 

Then Geralt brings his sword down hard, and Julian blocks it, arms straining with the effort to keep Geralt’s enhanced strength at bay as their eyes meet over their locked blades. 

“See?” Julian purrs. He puts in an extra burst of strength and pushes back against Geralt’s sword, the sudden move knocking Geralt a step backwards. “You can’t hurt me.”

Geralt is breathing heavily, eyes wide and fixed on Julian as he adjusts his grip on his sword and clears his throat. “Uh. Right.” His voice is breathy, and Julian feels a spark of satisfaction at managing to tire Geralt out slightly. “Shall we… ah, continue?”

Julian shrugs, spinning his sword, and Geralt’s eyes track his movements before refocusing, steadying his blade, and Julian grins and charges forward.

They spar for a while, starting slow and speeding up as they assess each other. Julian knows Geralt’s fighting style well, having accompanied him on hunts for two decades, but Geralt is unfamiliar with Julian’s, and Julian uses that to his advantage as he varies his attacks, never letting Geralt catch on to any pattern, forcing Geralt to focus fully on evading and countering Julian’s unpredictable attacks. 

After some time, Ciri emerges, hair damp and a satisfied smile on her face as she lays on her bedroll, watching them spar, but soon, she falls asleep to the sound of their swords. 

By that time, they’ve been sparring long enough that Julian’s shirt has started getting uncomfortable as sweat sticks the fabric to his body. Geralt is the best sparring partner he’s had in a long time - they’re evenly matched in both strength and skill, meaning Julian actually has to work to keep up with Geralt, and combined with the heat from the hot spring, Julian is sweating a lot from exertion, his hair plastering to his face, and it’s starting to irritate him.

“Ugh,” he complains, twisting his blade quickly to disarm Geralt before he takes a step back. “Wait a moment, I’m just gonna -”

He puts his sword down and yanks his shirt over his head before tossing it aside. “One second,” Julian mutters, pulling the leather tie from his wrist and reaching up to tie his hair up, annoyed at the way the long strands fall in his face and obscure his vision. He needs a haircut - long hair is a hassle, especially for a witcher, and as much as he enjoys the way Ciri braids his hair, it’s irritating to tie it up whenever he needs to fight. How does Geralt handle his?

“Right, we can continue,” Julian says brightly once he’s done, hair securely tied back and his upper body refreshingly free of his too-tight shirt, and he picks up his sword, readying himself for another round.

But Geralt is frozen in place, his grip on his sword slackening as he stares at Julian with wide eyes. His gaze lingers on Julian’s face for a moment before it trails down, fixing on Julian’s chest, and Julian stiffens, knowing that, just like his face, his chest is marred with scars from centuries of monsters and fights, marked by long decades of bloodshed, of conflict, of violence. 

link to ao3 in reblog!

[lupinsx]

Secret Admirer

masterlist

Request: Can you do a Draco x reader where he gets hurt (could be sectumsempra for example but it doesn’t matter) and the reader is super worried about him so they stay with him the entire time he’s in the hospital wing and he wakes up at one point and finds them asleep on the chair next to him? Thanks!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Summary: You had always admired Draco from afar, making his behaviour especially worrying during your sixth year. Thankfully, your concern made you arrive at just the right moment.

Word Count: 1.5k

a/n — Thank you for the request! This is kinda fluffy and just a lil angsty, so I hope you enjoy!

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You were just beginning to admire Draco.

It was your first year, when you entered Hogwarts with starry eyes and a hopeful expression. He stood confidently with a group of people he already looked comfortable with this early into the year. It was impressive, to you. How one can seem so assured during a day like this. You were almost inspired by him that day.

He was the reason you approached the Sorting Hat without vomiting.

When it shouted Hufflepuff after much thought, you found yourself slightly upset at being away from this mysterious boy who was earlier revealed to be named Draco Malfoy. But you knew it was for the best, as someone like you couldn't cope in Slytherin.

Throughout the year, your short-lived admiration for the boy failed to diminish. You found yourself observing Draco silently during your mutual classes, or stealing the occasional glance during mealtimes. Nobody knew about your thoughts, nor picked up on these slight patterns, but you preferred it that way — you didn't know how your housemates would react if they found you crushing on a Slytherin, let alone them finding out and possibly bullying you for it.

These feelings carried on until now, your sixth year. Except, it no longer felt like a schoolgirl crush to you. You felt a deep fondness for him, one that only increased with time. You began noticing the subtleties of his personality, like how he always wanted to prove himself through academics and Quidditch, and how his face would look slightly more distressed during the week before a break. He interested you, but not once did you consider telling him that.

You were content with your occasional classroom interactions. He knew your name, even you two were no more than acquaintances. You planned to tell him how you felt on your last day in Hogwarts, and until them, you were to contain your feelings and live life as usual.

Sixth year Draco became very alarming to you. His peers never picked up on anything, but your observations through the years made the change in him very visible. It was as if the life was taken out of his eyes. The striking silver look which has always captivated you was replaced with a dull grey. His face never held his usual playful smirk, and the creases on his forehead seemed like a permanent addition to his pale face.

On top of his appearance, his behaviour had changed too. He spoke less in groups, often leaving first as well. Whenever you would glance towards him in the Great Hall, he would be playing with his food mindlessly with an empty expression. It was unlike him, and you were concerned. Why hasn't anyone else noticed yet?

Out of worry, you began taking small measures to help. Because the Hufflepuff common room was near the kitchen, you would sometimes ask an elf to bring dinner to his room whenever he didn't show up. You'd also leave sticky notes with tiny doodles and encouraging messages on his desk whenever he had a class with you. It wouldn't do much, but seeing the corners of his mouth lift ever so slightly made it all worth it.

During one particularly alarming day, you noticed Draco walk into the Great Hall for lunch, but quickly turn back and rush out after a mere few steps. Your eyebrows furrowed in worry as you soon found Harry Potter following after him, determination laced through his features.

"I think I forgot something in the common room," you spoke hastily to your friend sitting across from you. You then stood up, trying to seem nonchalant as you left the Great Hall. Once out of sight, you were quick to follow Harry's trail.

You maintained a considerable distance between you and him as you tried to avert your gaze from his figure. You didn't want to seem suspicious or catch Harry's attention. Who knew what his intentions were for following Draco?

Eventually, Harry stopped in his tracks and approached the door to his left. You stood at the end of the hall, peeking from the corner as you tried to remain hidden. Once he entered the room, you tentatively walked forward.

What am I doing here?, you thought. I should be at the Great Hall right now eating, not snooping around.

As quick as they came, you brushed aside your thoughts and took a few more steps, standing in front of the closed door. Upon realizing where this was, an incredulous expression spread across your face.

It was the abandoned girl's bathroom. The one with Moaning Myrtle.

At this point, your curiosity was at an all-time high. You grasped the handle and hesitantly pushed it open, only to be shocked by the sight in front of you.

Harry stood with his back faced towards you, wand held by his outstretched arm, and hair dreadfully tousled. Draco stood further in front of him, eyes bloodshot and sweater thrown to the ground while holding a similar position to Harry.

"Cruci—" Draco yelled, before noticing your figure standing by the door and immediately stopping. Harry took that moment of hesitation to end the duel.

"Sectumsempra!"

Draco fell backwards and cried out in pain, his hand laid on top of the deep red gash on his chest. You yelped before running over to him.

"W-what have you done?" you shouted towards Harry, propping Draco's head up on your lap while his eyes were squinted shut. Harry stood frozen in his position, face twisted in regret as he looked horrified at his wand.

He didn't respond, but the guilt in his face made you realize the effects weren't intentional. Still, you glared at him with all your might as you hissed, "Bring Professor Snape, he might know what to do."

Harry ran out immediately to follow your request. It became silent in the bathroom, the only sounds heard being Draco coughing up blood and you quietly weeping in concern. Your fingers lightly brushed across his face to wipe the nearly drying tears. Everything was so confusing to you right now.

Why were they dueling? Why was Draco in tears? Why did Harry produce such a spell? And why was Draco about to utter such a spell?

Your thoughts were paused when Professor Snape came running through the door, falling onto his knees in front of Draco as he began muttering some incantations under his breath. As he spoke, the gash slowly closed up, and soon became invisible.

"We'll need to bring him to Madam Pomfrey immediately. He isn't fully healed yet," Snape spoke urgently, rising to his feet and slinging one of Draco's arms over his shoulder. You stood up after him and put his other arm over your shoulder to support his weight. Then, you two left to go to the hospital wing.

As you passed the hallway, you saw Harry lift his head out of his palms and meet your gaze. While your features hardened, he mouthed I'm sorry before you turned the corner.

Once you and Professor Snape arrived at the hospital wing with Draco, he grabbed the unconscious boy and laid him down on the bed.

"You may leave now, Miss L/N. He's in good hands," Snape said to you once Draco was settled in. You kept your gaze on him as you took the seat next to his bed, ignoring the words said to you.

"Miss L/N—"

"With all due respect sir, I'm not leaving until he wakes up," you interrupted, briefly glancing at him before returning your attention to Draco. You didn't know what came over you, why you suddenly spoke to a Professor this way, but as worry clouded your mind, your attitude was no longer your priority.

Professor Snape clenched his jaw in annoyance and simply turned on his heel to exit. At least he knew better than to argue with you at this moment.

As the room finally grew deserted, and the only people remaining were you and Draco, you grabbed the hand laid limp by his side and gave it a small squeeze.

"Please be okay," was the last thing you mumbled before you sat there in silence.

Little did you know that hours later, Draco woke up to the sight of you sleeping on his chest, holding his hand like it'll slip away at any moment.

Little did you know that he smiled, realizing that you were the 'guardian angel' he referred to. The one that left the notes which made his heart soar, and always made sure he'd have dinner whenever he couldn't bring himself to exit his room. The one that made his year not entirely miserable.

Little did you know that he squeezed your hand comfortingly, thinking to himself.

Perhaps I'll stick around for the rest of the year.

Draco was just beginning to admire Y/N.

——————————

a/n — Like, comment, or reblog to give feedback and show support! Thanks for reading, and feel free to send a request if you have an idea of what you want me to write.

[theheartsmistakes]

The Last Night Part III

(Author’s Notes: Hello readers! Here is Part III of The Last Night, a Jordelia fanfiction, from Cassandra Clare’s Chain of Gold. As always thank you for reading and please do give it a like, reblog, comment, and let me know if you’re interested in more. Happy and safe quarantine to you all!)

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Thunder crackled over the carriage as it drove down central London. The streets were empty this time of night except for those wayward travelers and the few patrons on their way home from the pubs. Rain fell in torrents in a way that Cordelia hadn’t seen it rain in a long time. With her head resting on Alastair’s shoulder, their hands bound together like when they were small children, she watched the city that she’d grown to love blur past her through the window. Alastair had taken her hand when she emerged from the Institute and hadn’t let it go since. Her skin, just a bit lighter than his own, but still similar. He smelt like their father she noticed: a warm spice mixed with smoke. It was comforting in that it reminded her of home: of white hot sand, open kitchen windows, and colorful tapestries that her grandmother said were known to capture spirits. As a child, the intricate black designs reminded her of runes by the way they swirled and bent and stood out amongst the other colors, because of that, she believed there to be magic in carpeting. 

When they’d visit Sona’s family in Persia, Cordelia felt a deep and dormant part of her come alive. She’d join the other children in the sand coated streets and run barefoot in the shadows of the clay buildings. Men would fill the hallways with laughter; women, adorned in their colorful silks and intricate beading, would throw flowers from windows as the children ran by. When it would come time for them to leave, she’d wish that she was a tree with roots so strong that nothing could uproot her.

How desperately she wanted to share that part of her with James. To run with him in the warm shadows, barefoot as their own laughter filled the alleyways. They would drink spiced tea in the garden while exchanging their favorite pieces of literature by the trickling water fountains. 

No, she couldn’t let herself think that way any longer. He wasn’t hers to fantasize about anymore. She would need to learn to fold up those thoughts and bury them away into a distant part of her. It was the only way to survive. The hardest parts aren’t the goodbyes, she thought, but the flashbacks that follow. The memories and what-could-have-beens. 

“Layla?” Alastair stirred her gently. “Where have you gone to?”

“Home.” She answered sleepily. 

He patted the back of hand gently. “We’ll be there shortly.”

“Not that home.” Cordelia sat up and turned to face her brother. “Do you remember going to grandmam’s house, in Persia? Do you remember their house on the top of the hill that looked out over all the clay city? Do you remember the way the kitchen smelt like abgoosht?”

Alastair nodded. “I can’t believe you remember it. You had been so young.”

“I remember all of it,” she said. “Do you think that we could ever go back there?”

“Of course, Layla.” Alastair reached up to cup her cheek in his gloved hand. “We can go wherever you’d like. Idris won’t be like it was before. We’ll have each other, and before long our new sibling to keep us busy. Lucie can come to visit, Anna, and—” His voice trailed off with his thoughts. Cordelia wondered if he thought about Thomas. She had wanted to ask him what happened between the two of them, but if Alastair felt anything like the way she felt upon simply hearing the name James, she didn’t want to be the catalyst for his pain.

She hadn’t told him of her plans to join the Iron Sisters. She hadn’t told anyone. It seemed terribly cruel to keep it a secret from her brother who was about to uproot his entire life in London to live with her in Idris. He tried so desperately to make it sound like a fairytale and the adventures that would follow. 

“Alastair,” she began, “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?” 

“I’m—“ She noticed for the first time the thin webs around his eyes and the deepening crease between his eyebrows. He’d already put so much of his life on hold because of her, to protect her, she couldn’t allow him to do it any longer. “I’m not going to stay in Idris and I don’t think you should either.”

His dark eyebrows drew together. “What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

“There’s nothing for us there.” She took a deep breath, trying to draw strength. “Because of what I’ve done, the Clave won’t likely allow me to join in missions, and by affiliation you’ll be excluded as well.”

“Where would you go?” Alastair’s tone grew more firm.

“To the Iron Sisters.”

“No.” Alastair shrank away from her as if she’d struck him. “The answer is no, Cordelia.”

“I’m not asking.”

“Well as your older brother and your guardian, I’m saying no.” Alastair moved to the other side of the carriage and rapt twice on the glass window.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m turning this carriage around that’s what I’m doing.” Alastair nearly shouted at her. “Had I known your intentions of joining that underground cult, I would have never agreed to leave London.”

“They’re Shadowhunters,” said Cordelia, “just as you and I are Shadowhunters.”

“I would never be able to see you, Cordelia.” 

The carriage merged onto the side of the road and came to a stop. 

Alastair turned back around to face her and slowly slid down into the seat. “You’d be isolated, worse than Jem, it’d be like—like you were dead.” He turned to look out the window as the rain fell in crooked streams over the glass like translucent veins. His jaw shook the way it did when he was adamant about something and could not be budged. 

“I want to be known for something other than scandal,” said Cordelia. “The Iron Sisters offer me the chance to change my fate, to take back a semblance of my honor, and do something with the life that I have been given. Alastair?” She reached for him but his expression had gone cold. “I won’t let you waste another moment of your life because of me. I made my choices and I’m ready to accept the consequences for those choices, but I will not let you shield me from this— the way you did with father.”

“You had a childhood because of what I did.”

“And you will have a beautiful life because of this.”

Alastair dropped his hand from his mouth and shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “No, I will have nothing.”

He had said once, offhand, when he thought no one was listening, you don’t actually end up with the people you love, but with the ones who stay. At the time, she thought it cruel and the thought made her sad. She felt as thin as a piece of paper. The last thing she wanted to do before leaving was upset her brother. He will heal one day, she thought. One day, he will forgive her. He’ll find someone to love and to stay.

Their driver came around to stand at the carriage window awaiting further instruction. 

“Dâdaš.” His eyes that mirrored her own flashed to her. They were red and full of rage: at her, at everything. She reached for him again when their carriage jolted forward, nearly throwing Cordelia into Alastair, except she didn’t quite make it and instead ended up sprawled out on the carriage floor.

“Bloody hell.” Alastair turned to the window where the driver had been standing, but he was no longer there. 

“What was that?” Cordelia asked, pushing herself up to her knees.

“I’m not sure.” Alastair reached for the door. “Stay here. I’ll see what’s going on.”

“I’m coming with you.” Cordelia successfully got to her feet and followed her brother out of the carriage— the rain so thick she could hardly see in front of her.

“Martin?” Alastair called for their driver. “Martin, what’s going on?”

Cordelia glared down the dark road where she thought she saw a figure standing in the middle of the street, but it very well could have been a trick of the mist. Rain dripped down her face, flattening her hair, and drenching her clothes in minutes. A horse screamed in agitation behind her, but when she turned around to investigate, she felt her foot catch on something. She looked down, expecting her boot to be caught on a stone, instead finding a blood red hand wrapped around her ankle.

“Martin!” 

“Run, Miss Carstairs, run.”

She fell backward when the carriage started moving again. A scream only comparable to nightmares ripped from her throat as the wheels rolled over Martin trapped underneath it. Afraid to open her eyes, Cordelia fumbled to her feet again. The skirt of her dress becoming increasingly heavy with water but she managed to find her footing.

“Martin.” She sobbed, turning around slowly, when a pair of arms reached out for her. She screamed, but recognition settled in, as Alastair’s face appeared before her own. He pulled her into his chest and whispered in her ear not to look. 

“What’s going on?” She demanded over another ripple of thunder. 

Alastair had a spear in his right hand, held out in front of them ready to empale whatever or whomever came near. At some point, he had abandoned his waist coat and tie. “I don’t know.” His eyes danced sharply around them. “Draw Cortana, I believe we’re under—“

Before he could finish his sentence, a great wind beat down on top of them and for a moment the rain stopped. Simultaneously, they looked up as a Diggoron demon with a wing span of twenty feet, a body the length of a whale, and the jaws of a dragon screeched above them. Its sharp tail, barbed with spikes, swung down towards them.

Alastair shoved Cordelia aside and took the brunt of the hit sending him flying through the air and into the darkness.

Cordelia landed painfully on hands and knees, but in a moment, her hands reached behind her and grabbed the hilt of Cortana. Instantly, she felt warmth radiate through her palms as if she’d grabbed the end of a burning log and not the metal end of a sword. The blade rang as she drew it from its home and held it out in front of her. 

Her breath came out in a white cloud as the air around her took on a great chill. Rain dripped into her eyes marring her vision. The air smelt heavily of sulfur and the metallic tang of freshly spilt blood. 

Her feet slipped on the pavement as she ran in the direction Alastair had been thrown. The streets were empty and unnaturally dark without the glow of the moon. All of the lamps had been snuffed leaving her alone in complete darkness. She hadn’t enough time to draw a night vision rune, besides her Stele was tucked safely in her bag on the runaway carriage. 

When she was a child, as a part of her training, she would wrap a blindfold over her eyes and let loose a Revarrt demon, a small seemingly harmless bug except it packed a terrible sting if one allowed it too close. It had a particularly high pitch buzz. With her eye sight gone, Cordelia would hold out her blunt weapon as if it were Cortana and wait for the buzzing to come close and swing. 

It felt as if she were back in the training room in Idris again, waiting for the buzzing to get close enough to her. 

“Cordelia!” She heard from her left and stopped. It came again from behind her. “Cordelia!” Her name took on different voices: Alastair, Lucie, Sona, Matthew, Elias, James.

“Cordelia.” Something hissed right behind her ear. She swung Cortana in an ark but whatever had been there had left in a wave of smoke.

“What do you want?” She yelled into the darkness. “There’s no need for games.”

She felt something brush the side of her neck. In a flash of gold, Cortana cut through the air, but once again she was met with nothing. Movement caught the corner of her eye on her left. A dark mound lay in the middle of the road.

Alastair.

She stumbled into a run, Cortana’s weight in one hand, as she raced to her brother’s side. A slow, dark current circled his head and ran down the street.

She fell down beside him, Cortana clattered to the pavement beside her, as she carefully picked up his head in her hands. There was blood everywhere, more blood than she thought she’d ever seen in her life. Head wounds bleed the worst, she told herself. It was fine. He would be fine.

“Cordelia.” More blood seeped from between his lips, staining his teeth. “You— It wants—“

“Don’t speak.” Quickly, she found a hole in the hem of her dress and ripped a piece from it. It was wet and filthy but she pressed it to his head and picked up his hand to hold it in place. “I’m going to find the Stele. We’ll put an iratze on you and it’ll be fine. Hold that in place.”

He mumbled something as she stood up again.

A gust of wind, so powerful it nearly pushed her forward, swept past her again. As she reached for Cortana, a moment too late, the spiked tail of the Diggoron demon connected with her chest. 

A spike lodged into her ribcage, but she hardly noticed, looking out at the glistening city of London from such great heights. For a moment, while her body lay suspended in the air, she thought about how quiet it was. Without even a chance to scream and all of the air knocked from her chest, it was inexplicably silent- as if time and space had stopped. 

The bliss, however, was short lived. Her stomach flew to her throat as her body fell through the air towards the earth and landed back on the street sliding across the stones like a limp doll until her back slammed against a wall.

Sound and pain rushed back to her. Unable to draw breath into her lungs, her heart rate elevated in her ears, it felt like she were drowning on dry land. Rain ran into her eyes and spilt down her cheeks as she looked up at the blackened sky swirling with rain and mist. 

A figure came to stand over her. For a brief moment, she thought the face familiar. The tangle of dark hair lay limp now and the eyes, went from warm yellow to black. His fingers grazed her cheek as he spoke her name.  James. A great pair of wings spread out from his back and the darkness seemed to swallow her whole. 

[chuckbass-love]

Why Him? | Ransom Drysdale | Part 5

A/N : I’ll be uploading a masterlist for this fic once i’ve uploaded part 6 as this is going to be at least 20 or more parts and it’ll be easier to have all the parts in one place. 

Disclaimer: My work is not to be reposted anywhere else other than my Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3. However, reblogs are welcome.

Why Him? MASTERLIST

Warning: SMUT

*LAST DAY OF FASHION WEEK*

Claudia’s POV

As i finish up dressing this mode, i feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket, i pull it out to reveal a text from Ransom. I smile as i see his name upon my screen ‘Hi doll, just wanted to check if you’re coming to the afterparty tonight x’ i blush at the nickname before typing my reply ‘i have an early flight back to Boston tomorrow so i can only stay for a lil while but yes x’ send. I put my phone back into my pocket and start organising the models in number order for the show.

I can’t believe it, i have almost made it through my first New York Fashion Week. From start to finish, it’s been hectic and challenging but i needed this to push me. This experience has really opened up and boosted major future opportunities for me to pursue in the future.

The show starts and i send the models out one by one, being careful to get every one correct. I’ve also made it to the end of the week with no fuck ups. Thank the Lord. It’s time to go out onto the runway but i avoid it. I want to get a head start on clearing up so i can get out on time. Once everyone is backstage it’s all hands on deck to get everything cleared away. 

I grab my bag once we finish and say my goodbyes to everyone, making sure to thank them for this opportunity. This truly has been an experience. I head out the front and see Ransom sat there. I thought i was meeting him at the party. “Hey” i say in confusion “I figured we should head to the party together you know save money on cab fairs and all that” i nod before taking his much larger hand in mine. 

We arrive and Ransom instantly takes two flutes of champagne, handing one to me. “What time is your flight tomorrow?” he asks, sipping his drink “6am” my eyes widen when i check the time, it’s already 10:30pm. I can probably only afford to stay here for an hour at most. “So where are your friends?” he looks around the room, shaking his head and gesturing for me to turn around. His friends are on the dance floor, grinding with some models. I’ve not met his friends but from what Ransom told me the other night and from what i’m witnessing now. They look like a couple of jokers.

We finish our drinks and i lead him onto to the dance floor. He places his hands on my waist as he stands behind me, i start to sway my hips, purposely grinding my ass into him. I’m having way too much fun. I get caught up with the music when i feel a hot breath on the back of my neck “You’re such a tease doll” he whispers. Making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I turn around and wrap my arms around his neck “I know” my smug smile coming out to play now. I shoot him a wink. I can see his eyes turn dark with hunger. I brush it off and continue to dance. Song after song, making him want me more and more.

I don’t give it up easily and Ransom is no exception. But he sure does make it difficult to keep to my rules. This is merely me building the sexual tension. I pull my phone out of my bag and notice the time. 11:45pm. SHIT.  “I have to go” i lean closer to his ear so he can hear me. He motions for me to wait there as he walks over to his friends. I’m assuming to tell them he’s leaving. Once he returns we exit the party. I hold onto his hand as we walk towards a cab.

Ransom gives the cabbie the name of my hotel and he speeds off instantly. I can feel the tension, i’ve done nothing but tease him all night, i can see it in his eyes. His cheeks are flushed and he’s fiddling with his pinky ring. He pays the guy and then opens the cab door open for me. When we reach my room i turn to face him. I never sleep with guys this early on. He looks down at me with those eyes, making my legs turn to jelly. “I best get to bed now Ransom” i state, turning round to open my door but he stops me. Turning me back to face him “You can’t just tease me like that and then leave” he mutters, his voice hoarse. “And why not?” placing my hands on my hips in a sassy motion, raising my eyebrows at him.

He leans down and connect his lips to mine, almost making me forget my rules. I place my hands on his chest, slowly pushing him away. “We can’t do this now” he just stares down at me ‘If you’re worried about me leaving afterwards and never hearing from me again then stop. I have no intention of going anywhere” he’s saying all the right things. Kissing me once again “I just don’t wanna rush this” he leans his forehead on mine. I take a deep breath out. Maybe i am too worried about him leaving me. If he leaves he leaves but i need to trust that he won’t. I want this so much and i think it’s about time i lived in the moment. With that thought, i look deep into his eyes and crash my lips to his. He takes the key card from me as we continue kissing, only breaking so he can open the door.

He walks me backwards into the room, kicking the door shut as we start to discard items of clothing, leaving a trail from the door to the bed until we are only in our underwear. His lips feel so good against mine. We’ve only been on two dates hence my concerns on doing this now. But it feels so right. He reaches behind me, tapping my naked thighs signalling for me to jump. I do as i’m told. Wrapping my legs around his muscly torso, grabbing onto his arms first before moving them loosely around his neck. 

“You have no idea how long i’ve wanted to have you under me like this” he whispers as he lays me down onto the bed. He leans down to kiss my neck, biting it in the process “Marking your territory Drysdale?” i push him away so he can look at me “Dam right i am”. 

He kisses from my lips to my chest, i lift up slightly so he can unhook my bra. He throws it to the floor and leans back to take in all of me “Your body. Wow. Just wow” i giggle. His hands settle on the hem of my panties. “You won’t be needing these anymore” i lift my ass off the bed so he can slide them off. I immediately shut my legs, getting insecure about how i look. Don’t get me wrong, i’m shaven and clean i just always get insecure about how my body looks. 

He parts my legs “Don’t start hiding from me now doll” i bite my lip as i watch his eyes stare. “Such a pretty pussy baby” his voice deepens. I hide my face with my hands in a sudden wave of embarrassment. He notices and pulls my hands away. He gets off the bed to rid himself of his boxers and my eyes grow wide. He’s so big. I’m a little scared. He looks down at his erection and back up to me “Like what you see doll” i nod, unaware that the worried look on my face is showing. 

He picks up his coat, taking a condom out of one of the pockets. He came prepared. He hovers over me, one hand at the side of my head and the other starts rubbing my clit suddenly, making my body jolt under his touch. “Fuck Ransom” i cry out in pleasure. He slides his fingers in between my folds, feeling the pool of wetness that he caused. “So wet for me already i see” he smirks as he lays on his stomach, his head inching closer to my sex. 

“Let’s see if you taste as good as you look” my whole body goes into over drive as i feel his tongue all over my pussy. Sucking on my clit one second and fucking me with his tongue the next. This can’t be real. “OMG” i scream out, not giving a shit how loud i’m being. “You like that doll, like it when i eat your pussy like this” i prop myself up on my elbows as i watch him, he doesn’t break eye contact for a second. “That’s it, look into my eyes. I wanna see that pretty little face when you cum on my tongue” his words, sending me over the edge. “Don’t stop I’m gonna cum” and with one last suck on my clit, my orgasm washes over me like a tsunami. Shit. I throw my head back, falling down onto the bed. Running my fingers through his hair, tugging at it. 

He makes his way back up to my face, looking me in the eyes. I pull him into a heated kiss, tasting myself on his tongue. “Fuck me, that was amazing” i pant. He definitely has unmatched skills. “What can i say? I know my way around a pussy” i giggle at his joke as he picks up the condom, “Now normally i’d take even longer to tease you before i fuck you but seeing as it’s 12:30am and you need to be up in a few hours. I’m gonna skip straight to the fucking” he slides the condom down onto his large size. He lifts my legs up slightly, wrapping them around his torso, lining himself up with my entrance. 

“You ready doll?” i give him the go ahead and he slams into me, not giving me a chance to get adjust to his size. “FUCK” i dig my nails into his back as he continues to thrust in and out of me at a fast pace. “You’re taking me so well baby doll” he grunts, slamming into me harder than the last time. “That’s it. Take. This. Dick” i rest my hands on his face, cupping it. “Fuck daddy, don’t stop, you’re gonna make me cum” i moan out, making him come to a halt. He stares at me with a look of amusement. “Daddy huh” fuck. I feel my cheeks heat up in embarrassment, He flips us over so i’m on top of him “Show daddy how you ride then princess” i lean forward, grinding on his dick occasionally bouncing up and down. He throws his head back “Shit doll” he bites down on his bottom lip, using one hand to grip my ass and the other to smack it. “That’s it baby. Keep going” i feel my second orgasm inching closer with each slap and moan that falls off of his beautiful lips.

I pick up the pace, bouncing up and down, getting faster and faster. Feeling my orgasm coming. “Fuck daddy. I’m cumming” i scream out, arching my back, making him thrust into me to chase his own peak. “Cum with me baby doll” it doesn’t take long. His thrusts start to slow down and i feel him twitch inside of me, causing my orgasm to follow. He lets out a breathy moan, pulling my body close to his as he sits up whilst he’s still inside of me. We come down from our intense highs and he pulls out, i fall onto the bed beside him.

We lay there for a couple of minutes, catching our breath. “WOW” he chuckles, trying to get his breath back. “That felt amazing” i turn to face him. Lying on my side. He traces his finger across my body. “I enjoyed every second of that” i nod in agreement, leaning in to kiss him. We both smile into the kiss. I sit up slowly and attempt to make a trip to the bathroom to sort myself out for bed but my legs don’t allow it. I fall back onto the bed causing Ransom to burst out laughing at my failed attempt “You’ve ruined me” he reaches over to me “Let me help you” he picks me up and walks me to the bathroom. 

We both get ourselves sorted and he helps me back into bed. “Please stay the night” i plead “Did you think i was going to leave?” i look down at my hands “I hoped you wouldn’t” he lifts my chin up so i look at him. “I’m not going anywhere” he leaves a soft kiss on my forehead. We turn the lights off and i lay my head onto his chest. “Goodnight” he whispers, kissing my hand. “Goodnight Ransom”.

A/N : I hope you guys like this. I’ve not written smut for years so i was a little nervous about this incase it didn’t turn out well. Feedback is welcome. 

[sabine-leo]

Light my fire... Part 1 of 2

Summary: Tom is one of your best friends for years now. After his stint on Broadway he is back on home soil and accepts Benedict's invitation to join him, Sophie, you and 3 other friends on a long weekend getaway in Scotland´s Highlands. Are the both of you ready to notice that you have missed each other more than you might have wanted to admit to yourself?

Genre: Friends to lovers, FLUFF, Fun and Flirtation

Author: @sabine-leo​ 

Part: 1 of 2

Wordcount: 2573

Note: Thank you for all the comments, notes, pm´s and reactions to the little teaser of this story. I do hope you like Part 1 !! Comments, likes and reblogs are soul-food and very much appreciated! THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Even though he had wanted to decline this invitation at first, he had to admit that he was happy to be here now. The setting could not be more oppositional to his bygone living arrangements in New York the past months. He had loved the buzz of the never sleeping city, the walks with Bobby in Central Park, the excitement before going on stage on Broadway or the view he had out of his apartment window. But breathing in the crisp, clear air that smelled of nothing but natures purest, unpolluted breath was cleansing and calming in a way that was very welcomed by his body and soul. With a smile on his lips and a visible puff of air out of his lungs he saw six figures approaching the deck of the cabin he was standing on. Laughter carried a great length when no noise besides natures own music was there to distract the ears from it. Tom hid his hands in his pockets and watched his friends come closer, the smile on his features getting bigger and more earnest in its depth.

He had missed them all!

The tallest figure of the bunch stopped short for a second and Tom could hear the deep chuckle before a happy statement made him laugh.

“Look who finally made it! Mate you missed one hell of a hike!”

Tom started to move and went down the few steps to greet Benedict with a warm hug.

“Seems like it. I already unpacked and got a decent nap in while waiting for you bunch. Did you get lost in the Highlands?” Tom grinned and patted his friends back.

Benedict leaned in with a laugh and stage whispered “Remind me not to give the map of trails to (Y/N) next time.”

Both men laughed when they saw your slightly flushed face.

“I got us back in one piece, didn´t I?!” You asked with a grin ruining your try on a stern face.

Ben chuckled and rolled his eyes.

“Yes, you did, but only because this is the only smoking chimney around.”

Tom hid his laugh and hugged you next.

“Hey Tom!” You smiled into his embrace and he inched you a bit closer against his warm, snuggly jumper. Taking in a deep breath.

“Hey (Y/N)!” He responded with a smile and whispered

“Good thing I lit a fire then…”

Laughingly you wiggled out of his embrace and swatted the chest of your dearly missed friend.

His following laugh warmed your half-frozen body.

“Make fun of me as much as you like. I am going to take a hot shower and snuggle close to the fire for the rest of the night!”

“WORD!” Sophie jumped in and greeted Tom as did the other three who had already arrived this morning. Ben kissed his wife and lead the way into the big cabin that would host them for the next 4 days. “You lasses go take that shower. Lads we are going to prep Dinner and start the night with a good bottle of Covo Bianco.”

“Oh god no!” Tom laughed and followed his friends inside.

Ben hugged him again. “Glad to have you back on home soil my friend.”

Showering did take a bit longer than usual but finally your legs stopped feeling like getting pinched by thousands of needles. The prospect of good food, lovely company and a lit fireplace made you get dried and dressed instead of jumping into the cosy looking double bed directly. 

Well, hopefully good food. There were 4 men cooking after all, two of them probably knew how to PLAY a chef but besides Bolognese Toms skills in the kitchen remained more useful for breakfast than Dinner. At least he said that himself. When you walked into the open space kitchen you started to laugh nearly directly. Sophie was already taking over and banning the men to set the table, stir the sauce and stoke the fire. Tom tried to set a foot in front of the oven to look at the steaks but the stern looks on Sophies face made him surrender with raised hands, retreating slowly with a charming grin. When he turned, he stood directly before you and tilted his head. 

“Quick. Let me safe you!” His hands softly grabbed your arms and pushed you backwards out of the kitchen. You chuckled. “I think I would have survived.”

Toms smile got even more handsome.

“You don´t know that. Plus, I´d rather have you help me find the wine cellar before Ben really breaks out the Covo Bianco!” Before you could argue Tom had your hand in his and headed towards the stairs. “Really? You did hear that I nearly got us lost in the Highlands today?” You asked with a laugh.

Tom stopped short with a chuckle and you ran into his chest.

“This is a cabin…” he started with an amused look down on you, keeping you close with a hand on your hip.  

“A big cabin…” You interrupted.

“Agreed. A big cabin. But it is not as vast as the Highlands.”

The face you made teased a chuckle out of him.

“Come on (Y/N). Help a friend out…”

“There are probably spiders down there…” you whined.

Tom laughed out loud.

“Undoubtedly. Highland-spiders are monstrous. Now follow me into the darkness. I swear to protect you with my life.”

“You are an idiot!”

Tom turned and squeezed your hand. “An idiot you choose to befriend years ago and one that missed you after your too short a visit to Broadway.”

“You could have missed me 5 more minutes and explore the cellar on your own Hiddleston!”  

All you got was a dark chuckle and a squeeze of his big hand that held yours in a firm but tender grip while he led the way downstairs.

---

Benedict grunted when he sat down, a glass of wine in his hand.

“Blimey, could you hold my wine for a second dear?”

He handed his glass to Sophie and grinned.

“Good thing that we all know each other so well and don´t have to be all prim and proper!”

“What are you doing Ben?” Sophie looked at her husband who just that second opened up is belt and the first knob of his trousers. With a relieved grunt he took back his glass and winked at his wife.

“SO much better!”

Tom chuckled from his spot on the sofa.  “I see you threw composure out of the window for tonight…”

Ben huffed but before he could answer to Toms quip you leaned over Jack, who sat in the middle, a little bit and lifted Toms jumper. “Don´t get all patronizing Hiddleston. I saw you open up your own button before dessert!”

And right you were. His trousers had two open knobs letting his Calvin Klein´s peek out.

Tom grabbed your wrist. “You did not…how could you betray your best friend like that?” he rumbled darkly with a glint in his eyes.

Benedict, grinning broadly, lifted his glass. “Always remember Tom: The only substitute to good manners are fast reflexes!” Laughs that erupted from everybody and Jack leaning forward to grab his own glass broke the contact between you and Tom but you felt his eyes linger on you when you got up some minutes later. Ben and Sophie were talkatively prepping a game of Pictionary. You walked behind the sofa to grab yourself a glass of water in the kitchen when suddenly Toms big hand closed around your wrist and tugged you down. “Teasing me, (Y/N)?”

You snickered. “You started it when you pretended, I had a spider on my shoulder down in the cellar.”

Toms thumb ran circles over your pulse. The waft of his cologne and his chuckle did not go unnoticed by you. He tugged you down even further and placed a quick peck on your cheek. “I missed that.” He whispered and let go of you slowly. You smiled and touched his shoulder while standing up straight.

“Missed you too scamp!”

 ---

“Banana! Moon!... Fruit bowl?” Christine jumped up and down hectically. Tom lifted an eyebrow.

“Fruit bowl?! Seriously?”

“Na-ah. No talking.” Ben chastised and you could not hold back your snorted-out laugh.

D-I-N-G. Time was up. Tom fell back onto the sofa with a roll of his eyes.

“Who´s idea was it to draw upside-down?”

“Yours Mister Hiddleston. You wanted to -up the challenge- after you and (Y/N) beat us all bloody.” Ben grinned. Tom started to smirk and laugh. “I did not know that we also had to switch partners at this time. No offense Christine…” Christine smiled. “Non taken. But what did you draw there?”

“Lokis helmet…” You said while nipping at your drink, sitting opposite Tom with Sophie by your side. Christine frowned and turned her head sideways. “Oh dang.”

Tom beamed at you and you winked with a soft smile.

It was the last game for the night. Ben and Sophie bid their good nights with grins on their faces, stating that this would be their first kids’ free night since months. The rest moved closer to the fireplace. Enjoying quiet conversations or the crackling of the fire accompanied by the soft music Tom had put on. Christine, Jack and Philipp shared the sofa. Tom lounged in a wing chair closer to the fire and you had made yourself comfortable on the ground with a cushion. Your back leaning against Toms chair in between his legs. The warmth of the fire made you sleepy after the day outdoors and a phenomenal dinner shared with the people you cared about. Your head fell back against Toms leg. The soft chuckle when he leaned forward and his long fingers brushing your hair to one side made your eyes open up again. “Come on darling, I´ll walk you to bed. Otherwise you might get lost in this big cabin.” He teased and chuckled when you ungallantly snorted.

“I´ll find my room, thank you very much!”

Tom smiled and breathed a kiss into your hair.

“Alright, then help me find mine?”

“Can´t move…too tired…” You responded with a little grin and closed eyes. Tom rolled his beautiful blue orbs in playful exasperation and flung a leg over you to get out of the chair. Bending down he grabbed your hands with his and tugged. “Arise oh trail-finder. It will get cold down here when nobody is there to keep the flames crackling.”

With a moan you let Tom tug you up. Unsteady and tired as you were you bumped into him.

“Sorry!” You mumbled but Tom only laughed and turned you into the right direction.

“Good night everybody.” He said and followed you out into the hallway.

When you had found your room -after you accidentally opened up the door to the storage closet- Tom leaned in and hugged you close for a lingering moment.

“Sleep well darling.”

“You´ll find your room?” You asked sleepily and held on a second longer.  

His chuckle vibrated through your body.

“Yes, it is right next to yours.”

“The storage closet?” You grinned against his chest.

“The other door…” he chuckled again. “…Stop teasing me and get some sleep.”

“You´d have to let go of me for that.” You looked up and the twinkle in your eyes made Tom bite his lip. “Reluctantly…but ok.” He smiled and stepped back a bit rubbing your arms before walking towards his door.

“Tom?” you said halfway into your room.

“Mhmm?!”

“Glad you are back…and decided to come here.”

Tom smiled and tilted his head. “Me too…sweet dreams darling.”

 ---

 Morning came too soon and with it the crisp, chill air through the slightly open window that woke you. The sheet was heavy and warm. So much so, that you did not want to part with it when you climbed out of bed to close the window and grab some clothes before you´d head into the shower. Reluctantly you parted with it three minutes later and quickly tiptoed your way into the hopefully warm bathroom. Still sleepy, you placed your fresh clothes onto the heating unit and got rid of the worn Loki shirt Tom had gifted you some years ago.

It was your favourite shirt to sleep in.

The click from an opening opal glass shower door did not at all sound alarming to your still sleep-hazy brain. But when a deep voice cleared it´s throat with an unmistakable glee to it you turned around with a shocked expression. Your hands desperately grabbing the Loki-shirt to cover your naked breasts.

 “Good morning darling. Would you pass me a towel please? Or did you come in here to join me?”

 Toms grin got bigger when he saw the shock on your face and his alter ego currently pressed against your breasts.  He had gotten a good look on your naked back and the flimsy material covering your fine behind…even when he really had tried to be a gentleman and avert his eyes but failed miserably in nanoseconds.

You could not help but notice his wet hair dripping onto his lean torso. His groin was still covered by the opal glass door by the way he was leaning out sideways.

“Oh my god I am so sorry!” You blurted out.

Tom laughed a soft little laugh and looked into your eyes.

“I don´t think that this god is particularly sorry…I rather thinks he likes the place he´s being pressed at.” I know I would like it…he thought.

“What?” You got out not very eloquently.

Tom laughed again, this time a bit more mischievous and with an accompanying wink when he nodded his head towards the Loki-shirt.

“OH!” You looked down on your shirt and blushed.

“So, towel or joining me?” He dared to say with a grin on his handsome face.

You threw him the next best towel in your reach and missed the playful sad huff he gave before he disappeared fully back into the shower. He stepped outside the next second. Still dripping wet but the towel wrapped around him. Low. Very low. The V shape of his hips in good display…as were his trained abs. You stood there, still clutching the shirt against your front and stared when he walked over and leaned towards you to grab his stash of clothes on the stool behind you. A drop of water fell out of his wet hair directly onto your collarbone and slowly made its way down your still dry skin. From the feel of it you could have sworn that it would evaporate any second because your skin felt as if it was on fire. When he straitened again, he grinned at you and gave a quick peck to your cheek, tugging softly at the shirt you were holding onto like a life-jacket.

“Pick me up in my room before you head for breakfast?” His quiet, deep voice caressed your ears. The breath from his spoken words tickled your shoulder.

“Uh-huh!”

Tom smirked and walked to the door. He had almost closed it behind him but lurked in again.

“You know…That is a rather glorious purpose he is burdened with!”

Your brain really was not working properly this morning because you threw the Loki-shirt towards Toms face. When you noticed your mistake, you made a run for the shower and yelled.

“Close the damn door Hiddleston!”  

“From the inside or the outside?” Was his laughing reply before you heard the door fall close.  

 ---

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[goldenworldsabound]

Tender Admittance

After finding out she can’t continue on Braska’s pilgrimage, Wendy wants to say good bye to Auron. They end up spending time together, and their feelings start to come to light. Content warning: slightly implied sexual activity (very slightly). Word count: 2257.

I worked really extra hard on this one, over the course of at least a month so I hope you like it! Reblogs and comments appreciated!!!

It was not so simple to say good bye to Auron, she found. She went up to his door and walked away multiple times before she finally stepped far enough away to think properly.

Knowing now that she could no longer continue on with Auron and the others due to her injuries, her growing feelings of care for a certain ex-monk were an even heavier pit in her stomach. She might never see him again, if things went badly. She was already wracked with regret for not talking to him more, for not being more forthright, as the clock ticked closer to his departure.

Finally, she had steeled herself to say good bye to him.

Everyone had retired to their rooms at the inn before the most unpleasant part of the journey would begin. She had made her decision - she would go see him. No hesitation this time. With a tray that held hot sake and two cups that she'd picked up from the hotel staff, she found herself in front of his door yet again. Taking a deep breath, she kicked at his door with her foot. She waited, heart in her throat, until she heard the lock click and the door opened.

"Hey, hi." Wendy said nervously, smiling at Auron before looking away shyly. He wasn't wearing his haori, his chest armor removed, leaving a simple black undershirt in it's place. It was the least dressed she'd seen him. He was quite a private man.

Auron stared at her for a moment. "Is that for me?" He asked bluntly. Wendy nodded. He was quiet for a moment, before pulling the door open and inviting her inside. She set the tray down on the small table, before sitting in one of the less than comfortable chairs. Auron sat across from her. They reached for the sake at the same time, intending to pour it for each other. Instead, their hands brushed. They both blushed, looking away. Auron recovered first, grabbing the sake decisively, pouring it into her cup before setting it down. Wendy shyly grabbed the sake as well, pouring Auron a full cup in return.

"Thank you." He said quietly, picking up the cup to sip at it. Wendy followed suit, smiling into the sake before she sipped at it. She fought back a cough as the alcohol stung at her throat. She was never very good with alcohol - not with tasting it, or with holding her liquor. But she knew Auron was quite fond of it. She'd never seen him drunk, so she assumed he could hold his liquor. In fact, she assumed he'd be drinking most of the sake. She wasn't even sure if she should let herself get tipsy...well, she'd see how things went.

"I'm sorry...about your injury." Auron said quietly. "It must be difficult, to get here, only to..." He trailed off.

Wendy swallowed thickly. "Um, thanks. I don't...I don't want to talk about it." She looked away, trying to keep the sadness off her face.

"Was there something you did want to talk about?" He asked, raising his brows at her.

"Um...nothing in particular..." She blushed, taking a longer sip to avoid looking at Auron as she scrambled to figure out what to say.  She set the cup down, still eyeing it as she spoke. "I just...wanted to see you, before..." She trailed off. More didn't need to be said.

To her surprise, his mouth quirked up in a smile. "I wanted to see you, as well." He murmured, looking away with a faint blush. Wendy's gaze snapped to his face, looking surprised. A smile spread over her face and she blushed deeper, thrilled by even such a simple admittance. But it nagged at her mind - why had he left wordlessly earlier, then?

"Um...you... have you missed Bevelle?" Wendy asked, still struggling to find a topic of conversation.

Auron sipped at his sake thoughtfully. He set the cup down, empty, and topped off Wendy's cup. Wendy took the sake from him, filling his cup in response.

"There wasn't much to miss." He answered simply. He didn't reciprocate the question, swirling his sake before putting the cup to his lips.

"Ah. Sorry." Wendy cast her gaze away again.

"What are you sorry for?" A raised brow.

"For bringing it up." She said, fidgeting with her cup.

"Don't be."

"...okay."

They sat in silence again. Wendy put both her hands around the small cup, feeling the warmth from the hot liquid. She glanced at Auron, who looked away as her gaze met his, as if he had been caught. She took the moment to stare at his lips. How kissable they looked, soft and tender. Her gaze shifted to his hands, wishing the warmth she felt was from touching them, rather than the sake, which was slowly growing cold. Her body screamed for her to reach out, to touch him in some way, but her pounding heart kept her in check.

She snuck another glance at his face - and this time she was the one to look away, as he turned his attention back to her. She blushed, her thoughts about his attractiveness becoming unbearably loud. She gripped the cup tightly.

Hell.

She threw the warm liquid back, swallowing it all down. There. She would start to feel tipsy soon. What she hoped to accomplish, she didn't know, but...

Auron laughed. "I didn't think you liked sake." He said, mouth upturned in a small smirk.

"...I don't, much." Wendy replied, blushing a little.

"You don't have to drink it, then." Auron raised a brow at her. "Are you trying to impress me?"

"Im-impress?!" Wendy stammered back at him. "No, uh, I just-"

"You already have." He interrupted, his own face going a bit pink.

"I- I have?" She asked, beginning to smile. He nodded without looking at her. Feeling emboldened, without giving herself a chance to think herself out of it, she reached across the table, putting her hand on top of his, which was resting there. She flushed, and she could see Auron's face was red too. But he didn't move his hand away. In fact, he shifted their hands, intertwining their fingers without a word.

He nodded, lips pressed tightly shut, unable to convince himself to say more. They sat like that, silently holding hands and blushing, for what felt like an eternity.

"The sake is getting cold." Auron commented, breaking the silence.

"Uh...I...yeah...I guess we should drink it?" Wendy suggested, thrown off. Her head was already swimming a little, the alcohol she'd downed taking effect.

He chuckled. "I thought you didn't like it."

"...well, yes, but, you just said-"

"That's not what I meant." Auron interrupted.

"Well what did you mean then?" Wendy prodded, squeezing his hand as she raised a brow at him.

He stared at her for a moment, before looking away with a blush.

"I'm sure you can figure it out." He mumbled.

"Auron!" She whined, pulling his hand back and forth. "Just tell me!"

He laughed. But not the usual, brief laugh. He laughed loudly, smiling wide, before putting his free hand over his face as he forced himself to stop laughing. Wendy was startled, but her surprise shifted into a tender smile. She had never seen him laugh quite like that before.

He recovered himself, coughing slightly to cover up the last remnants of his laugh as he sat up again, smiling deviously.

"You're cute." He said, blushing. But he was rewarded with Wendy's reaction. She turned as red as a tomato, instinctively trying to pull her hand away to use both hands to cover her face. Auron gripped her hand tightly, preventing her from escaping his grasp. She squeaked, trying desperately to cover her beet red face with one hand.

"Auron!" She whined again.

"You are!" He insisted. "Don't hide your face from me." His other hand reached across, pulling hers off of her face gently, but forcefully. She looked away, pouting.

"You...you can't just do that and expect me not to- not to, um, to get shy!" Wendy focused her gaze on him, her cheeks still burning. She froze, feeling caught in his gaze, suddenly hyper aware that they were holding hands, and that he was laughing again. But she couldn't look away.

"It's alright if you do. That's cute too." He admitted, smile halfway to a smirk. Before she could respond, he stood up, still holding her hands, and closed the gap between them, coming to stand in front of her. She looked up at him, heartbeat loud in her chest. "...C'mere."

He tugged on her hands, and she got to her feet, slowly as if in a daze, eyes locked onto his. He walked backwards, sitting down on the edge of the bed, gently pulling her along, cognizant of her injuries. He relinquished his grip to pat the spot next to him with one hand, and she sat down, leaning up against his side with a shy blush as she laid her head on his shoulder.

He stared at her, surprised by that, before leaning his head against hers. She heard him sigh, a contented sound she didn't think she'd ever heard from him before.

"Auron..." She murmured. "Is this what you meant?"

"Hm?" The deep rumble of a response made her blush, but she ignored it.

"The thing you weren't gonna tell me? Was that you wanted to- to- to snuggle?" She stammered out after a moment's hesitation.

"Mm." He turned his head, taking a hesitant breath before pressing his lips to her hair. "Not so easy to say, is it?" He replied smugly, squeezing her hand.

"No, but at least I said it." Wendy replied, sticking her tongue out at him. He laughed softly. Her expression softened, and she smiled.

"Fair. But I did the hard part of starting it." He teased.

Wendy rolled her eyes. "Yeah? Well..." She took in a breath, before hopping to her feet, turning to stand facing him, pouting. He raised a brow at her. She pushed on his shoulders until he laid back against the bed, straddling him and kneeling over top of him. She leaned her face down to press a quick kiss to his lips. They were as soft as she'd imagined.

As she pulled back, she noticed exactly how red she'd made him. He was staring at her in shock.

"Oh, um, s-sorry, I just-" But before she could stammer out an apology, he'd put a hand on the back of her head, gently pushing their lips together again, his eyes closed. Her eyes widened in surprise, before she closed them as well, blissfully enjoying the kiss. She could hardly believe this was happening.

They pulled apart, both taking deep breaths. They stared into each other's eyes. Auron reached up a hand to stroke her cheek. "Wendy..." He murmured. "You really are...beautiful." She blushed, but didn't look away, nuzzling her cheek into his hand.

"And you're quite handsome..." She mumbled back, before pressing a quick kiss into the palm of his hand.

He smiled. He pulled on her arms gently, until with a small squeak she fell on top of him, their bodies chest to chest. He wrapped his arms around her, letting another contented sigh escape his throat. She relaxed, letting her head fall on his chest. She felt the rise and fall of him as he breathed, and with her ear pressed against him she could hear the frantic pounding of his heart. She smiled at that, resting her eyes again.

As his heart rate slowed and steadied out, she lifted up her head, before leaning forward to pull him into another kiss...

--------------------

Wendy was curled up next to him now, his arm wrapped around her. They were both naked under the sheets, enjoying the feel of their skin against each other. Wendy's eyes were half-lidded as she fought back sleep. Auron, on the other hand, found he was surprisingly awake.

"Hey, Auron?" Wendy asked sleepily, peering up at him.

"What is it?" He asked back, meeting her gaze.

"Promise me I'll see you again?"

Auron shook his head. "You know I can't promise that."

"Please?" Wendy whined, putting on her best puppy dog eyes.

Auron smiled sadly. "I'm sorry."

"..." Wendy frowned, burying her face in his neck. "Okay, how about this." Her voice was muffled. "You'll find me, if...if things go well. If you're still...alive. Can you promise me that?" Using the word alive stung her. But she had to be clear.

Auron kissed the top of her head. "Okay. I can promise that."

Wendy peeked out at him from behind her hair. "Say it?"

Auron sighed softly. "If I'm still alive after we beat Sin...I'll come find you."

"Thank you." Wendy closed her eyes, smiling softly. Satisfied with his words, she began to drift off to sleep.

But Auron was less lucky. He was restless. He had been ignoring a lot of feelings. But now, with what they'd done...everything started to hit him. The way he felt about her. The likelihood that he wouldn't make it out from this pilgrimage. The knowledge that Braska certainly wouldn't. How badly he wanted to stay here, with Wendy, instead...it was all swirling around in his brain.

She started snoring lightly, and he smiled wryly, pressing another gentle kiss to her head.

But he'd already chosen his path. And he owed it to Braska, and Jecht, and to himself, to stick to it.

[myriadimagines]

Inevitable

Euphoria One Shot

Pairing: Reader x Rue Bennett

Other Characters: Jules Vaughn, Kat Hernandez, Lexi Howard, Cassie Howard, Maddy Perez

Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption

Requester: anonymous

Request: “Euphoria one-shot with Rue Bennett where the reader and all the girls (Rue, Maddy, Cassie, Lexi, Kat) go out together. The reader (Rue’s best friend) brings their new girlfriend along and all the other girls try to get to know the gf except Rue, who has a crush on the reader and gets jealous. The other girls, preferably Lexi or Maddy, notice Rue’s crush on the reader.”

Word Count: 1446

A/N: i set this at a party since all the girls don’t really interact until the school dance at the end of the season. italicized parts are rue’s narration/voice over kinda parts if that wasn’t clear, and sorry there’s not much reader in this? anyway i wish i liked this rip i hate myself!

please reblog/leave comments, they’re very much appreciated!

Your name: submit What is this?

You know when things just feel wrong? Like, you don’t really have an explanation for it, but you just know deep down that something is off, so you’re left to feel this inevitable sense of doom? 

Jesus Christ, y/n, stop leaving me hanging and text me back already.

Rue glances down at her phone, frowning at the lack of notifications that fill her screen. Distractedly taking a sip from her plastic cup, she doesn’t even cringe at the bitter taste of alcohol that hits her tongue as she opens up her text messages. 

where r u, she had messaged to you, ten minutes ago. Ten fucking minutes ago.

Rue knows she’s being clingy, knows that ten minutes honestly isn’t that long. But when the two of you usually text nonstop, ten minutes is a pretty long time.

“Kat!” Jules exclaims, startling Rue slightly as her excited voice is barely loud enough to be heard over the music. Rue looks up as she feels Lexi’s elbow sharply jab into her side, and Rue reluctantly plasters on a smile as she tucks her phone into the pocket of her jeans. Jules leans over, grabbing Lexi and Rue’s wrists to pull them forward towards her and Kat, and Jules continues, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“I had to deal with the idiots who spilled beer all over the couch.” Kat huffs, clearly angered as she casts a glance over her shoulder, trying to keep an eye out for the rowdy group of boys that loudly holler in the middle of the living room. Turning back to Jules, she rolls her eyes as she scoffs, “Men. The amount of raging testosterone here is suffocating.”

Rue snickers slightly, before she quickly scrambles to grab her phone as she feels an almost imperceptible buzz in her pocket. Lexi blinks at her in surprise as Rue practically drops her phone out of excitement, but her expression quickly falls as she reads your response.

y/n: sorry sorry! we’re outside!!!!

‘We’re’ outside? Who the fuck is ‘we’? 

Lexi leans over to glance at Rue’s phone before she can hide it, and she looks up at Rue as she remarks, “Should we go outside to meet y/n?”

“Yeah, uh, sure.” Rue responds, trying to ignore the dread she can feel creeping up in her chest. Turning on her heel and leaving Jules and Kat to rapidly talk about which boys at East Highland are the most annoying, Rue makes her way to the front door, with Lexi trailing behind her. Taking a deep breath, she pulls the front door open, her heart skipping a beat as she sees you. A bright smile immediately shines on your face, and you throw your arms around Rue as the two of you stumble backwards.

“Hey, I’m so sorry I’m late, it took me forever to decide on an outfit.” you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth so fast Rue can barely process them all. Rue chuckles, shaking her head as the two of you pull apart, but her smile falters as she sees another girl lingering behind you, cautiously watching the two of you. You look over your shoulder, following Rue’s gaze, and you reach out for the girl’s hand, pulling her towards you as Rue can feel the air knocked out of her lungs. “Rue, this is my girlfriend…” 

Holy shit, this cannot be happening. Someone wake me up right now.

Rue blinks at you as you beam at her, and all Rue can focus on is how your arm is wrapped around this other girl’s waist, how happy the two of you look together. She doesn’t even listen to you when you introduce her, and Rue struggles to get over her shock as she tries to peel her eyes away from you.

Quickly jumping in, Lexi remarks, “I’m Lexi, it’s so nice to meet you. Let’s, um, go in and find the others.”

Lexi reaches out to grab Rue’s arm, steering her back into the party as Rue struggles to snap herself out of her trance. She feels Lexi pull her to a stop as you let out a delighted squeal, rushing up to Jules and Kat, who are now joined by Cassie and Maddy. Jules lets out a cheer as she wraps an arm around you, squeezing you in an excited hug, and Cassie laughs, clearly tipsy as she sways ever so slightly. Rue watches from a distance as you introduce your girlfriend to the others, all of them smiling politely at her as they lean forward to give her welcoming hugs. 

And Rue hates how comfortably your girlfriend already looks within the group.

Chugging down the rest of her drink, Rue storms out, leaving Lexi alone in the crowd as she shoves her way past her classmates, making her way to the backyard as she breathes in the cool night air. She swallows it, trying to extinguish the fiery jealousy that ignites her chest, and she plops down on a lawn chair, swiping away the discarded plastic cups on top and letting them fall onto the lawn 

Having a crush fucking sucks. But do you know what’s even worse than having a crush? Having to watch said crush date someone else. 

Rue casts a glance across the backyard, where she can see you and your girlfriend dancing inside the house, smiles lighting up your faces as you twirl around, fingers intertwined as you let out a giddy laugh as you drunkenly stumble forward, momentarily losing your balance before your girlfriend quickly catches you. Something inside of Rue’s chest clenches as the both of you smile at each other, before your girlfriend gently leans forward to plant a kiss on your lips, and you giggle as you pull her closer, deepening the kiss. 

Rue peels her eyes away, so absorbed in her own thoughts and her own jealousy she doesn’t even notice Lexi approach, cautiously making her way towards Rue. Rue buries her face in her hands, trying to get rid of the image of you and your girlfriend together, and she startles as she hears the creak of the chair opposite her. Looking up, she sees Lexi offering her a soft, almost pitying smile, and she remarks, “Not enjoying the party?”

“Since when does y/n have a girlfriend?” Rue can’t help but blurt, unable to hide her emotions any longer, and Lexi presses her lips together. Quickly trying to shrug it off, Rue waves her hand, stammering, “I mean, I’m… I’m just curious, don’t you think it kind of came out of the blue—?”

Lexi doesn’t speak for a moment, picking at the edge of her skirt as Rue nervously chews her lip. She casts a glance inside the house again, spotting you and your girlfriend still dancing together, and Rue feels a pang in her chest that knocks the air out of her. She sucks in a sharp breath, her foot bouncing against the ground as she can feel her emotions getting the better of her, and Lexi suddenly asks, “Do you like y/n?”

Rue blinks at her, gulping down her words as she quickly avoids eye contact. She can’t even muster up the strength to deny it, and Lexi’s expression falls as she drags her chair closer to Rue. Trying to get Rue to look at her, Lexi urges, “Rue… you have to tell her.”

“Why?” Rue snaps, quickly defensive. “She’s fuckin’ dating someone now, what’s the point?”

“Well, are you just going to bottle up all your feelings then?” Lexi counters, raising an eyebrow, and Rue grits her teeth before letting out a deep sigh. The two of them sit in silence before Lexi finally asks, “What are you going to do, then?”

Rue can feel tears prickling at the edges of her eyes, and she looks up one last time at the house. You’re by yourself now, your girlfriend having disappeared someone into the crowd, and Rue can’t help but smile as she sees you laugh with Jules over a private joke. For a brief moment, you look out into the backyard, a smile lighting up your face as you see Rue. You wave at her, grinning at her in a way that makes Rue momentarily forget everything around her, and her spirits lift. 

Just as Rue raises her hand to wave back at you, your girlfriend reappears, offering you a drink and stealing your attention away. Rue’s hand falls limply to her side, and she turns to look back at Lexi.

“I… I don’t know, Lex.” Rue finally admits, shoulders slumping as she lets tears fall down her face. “I don’t know.”

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