#be making. but it’s in good enough shape to get me the credit i need and that’s what counts

[lesbianboyfriend]

calling it here and submitting research paper 👍

[gyllenhaalstories]

COUNT IT DOWN — JAKE GYLLENHAAL

summary: jake grunts. jake grunts a lot. jake grunts very loudly. do i need to say more?

warnings: smut (semi public sex, quickie, fingering, penetration, orgasm control, creampie). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2920

gifs credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i can't get the sound of jake's grunts out of my head (not that i want to anyway) 🥵 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"9, 10, 11, 12..."

You sighed. They had been counting to twenty so many times over, they probably hit the million mark by now.

"13, 14, 15, 16..."

You busied yourself around the gazebo, alternating between taking photos of the cloudy sky and videos of the gentle breeze that made the branches of the pretty flower bushes surrounding the area dance.

"Harder!"

The camera, following your movement, focused on Jake rather than the white flowers.

"17, 18, 19... 20!"

"Fuck!" Another grunt.

Jake's trainers and fitness team showered him in praise for sustaining yet another repetition of literal gut punches.

But all you could hear was the noises he just made.

Your man glanced over at you and waved, soft giggles completed the picture. He was gesturing something. For someone who spoke so much with his hands, he was not that good at it.

You figured he meant he was almost done. Or so you hoped.

The punches started all over again, but the sound of the gloves hitting Jake's skin and the redness that bloomed over his abs indicated they were going all in for this last set.

You approached the gazebo, attention focusing on the noises that Jake was making and how he scrunched his nose with each punch.

With each grunt too. Was it a subterfuge to distract himself from the pain, to trick his mind and body to take hit after hit?

Your jaw dropped, although only Jake noticed, while you watched them. It was mesmerizing. No, actually, it was hypnotizing.

The ceiling fans could not rotate fast enough to dry the layer of sweat that was all over Jake's body. He contracted his abs with all his might, hands behind his head and torso exposed to receive more torture. The masochistic exercise was sending his brain into overdrive.

You murmured a faint "You're gonna hurt yourself" that got blatantly ignored by everyone in the room. You clutched on your phone harder, as if you were receiving a part of all that pain too. The fingernails of your free hand dug crescent shapes into your palm.

"One more." His opponent was back at it with the assault on Jake's abs. Everybody in the room chanted the last series of numbers until the training was finally over. In between each digit, there was a loud grunt. In between each hit, the veins of Jake's pelvis bulged while pumping all the blood that made his skin a dark share of red.

Everybody but you retreated to one of the many entrances of the gazebo, getting ready to leave. Meanwhile, you leaned on the column for much needed balance.

"That was fantastic!" Jake laughed. His laughter was the only one that sounded genuine. The other guys chuckled, worried, at his appearance. They pointed out how he was "red as shit". To which Jake answered that "We want the movie to be good, you know."

You were concerned, still, but more so turned on by the scene.

The endorphins were hitting Jake hard. You could tell he was worked up in more ways than one. The euphoric giggles and cocky smile, the way he hopped and jogged around the gazebo to keep his body in this momentum. He was not hearing a word that his team was telling him, something about setting up his ice bath, as they exited the area in a cacophony of squeaky shoe noises. The only thing Jake acknowledged was your presence.

You let him walk to you close enough to pull you by the hand so he could kiss your lips.

"I knew it. I knew you wanted to watch." He smirked. "I gave one hell of a good show, didn't I?" He took your phone out of your hand and set it on the bench from where he grabbed a towel to wipe his forehead with. "Don't tell me that's not true, it's written all over your pretty face."

You rolled your eyes, not even trying to stand up for yourself. "So, you're done now?"

Jake shrugged with a not-so innocent grin on his blushing face. "Kinda."

"What do you mean, kinda?" You sighed, annoyed. "If I hear you guys count up to twenty again today, I swear..."

"Ooh, I'm scared." He giggled again. He calmed down and squinted, looking at you through his long lashes. "No counting up."

Your satisfaction with his answer was short lived.

"But we'll count it down."

You watched him while he draped the towel down on the black mats. "Remember when I bet that you wanted to join me today? I was right." He took a step closer to you. "I'm feeling all the good luck running through my veins right now, so I wanna make another bet."

You looked at him with a confused arched brow. Your eyes studied his body. From the messy wet hair, down to the curve of his pecs, and even further down to his swollen abs; your eyes were met with the bulge in his shorts.

"I bet you that I can make you cum," he brought your attention back to his face. "With twenty thrusts."

"Here?" He nodded. His team was not far away, you could hear them dump bags of ice in the converted trash container that was used for temperature shocks. You rolled your eyes. Laughing while taking in so much pain was insane, but not having a care in the world about getting caught was even more insane. "Nah."

"Come on! I know you want to." He repeated the next words in a lower, quieter voice. "I know you want me to fuck you." He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. "Twenty thrusts, that's all I'm asking." Jake loved to work his magic, he knew all too well that this same magic worked every time. Well, almost. "You gonna give it to me? Gonna let me fuck your pretty pussy? Gonna let me show you who you belong to?" The hand that was on your cheek started to travel down your body, following the shape of your stomach until it slid under the hem of your clothes.

You gasped when you felt his warm hand cup your pussy underneath your panties.

He grunted when his fingers dipped ever so slightly in your wetness. "Yeah, you do. You want it so fucking bad." He pushed his middle finger between your folds and teased your clit. "You were getting so worked up from watching me that you had to go play in the flowers like a busy little bee. You couldn't keep your eyes off me for long, huh?"

You cut his monologue short with a passionate kiss. Your tongue invaded his mouth but quickly lost the battle for dominance.

The way you moaned against Jake's lips gave him the unspoken permission pull down your pants after you both kicked off your shoes. He broke the kiss to help you lay down on the towel and remove his shorts too. "I take it as you accept my bet?"

You both laughed while you gently slapped his chest. "Just fuck me already."

"Attagirl." You did not need to say it twice. Jake spread your legs open and positioned himself between them, kneeling and taking deep breaths while he took in the sight of you offering your body to him.

"We gotta be quiet." You reminded him about the risks of getting caught. What a waste of words.

Jake used your wet pussy to jerk off and lube his cock. He looked at you and how you squirmed under him. You were so wet for him, he glided over your folds and clit easily. "Oh yeah, looks like you care so much about being quiet." He didn't give you time to protest, he guided his cock and pressed it against your entrance. "I don't give a fuck if they hear. And judging by how wet you are..." He pushed, slowly, until his tip was inside of your clenching walls. "You want them to hear us too."

You moved on him, helping Jake get all the way inside you. He was surprised, but through a nod you both agreed that the first thrust did not count.

Jake puts his hands on your stomach, keeping you immobile and at his mercy. "Count down for me, baby."

And you did just that, or so you tried. Jake's first five thrusts were slow and deep, he let you get adjusted to his size while he praised you over and over again about how good you felt wrapped around him. He was rock hard, all the stamina built up from his training made it near impossible to hold himself back and stick to his stupid bet.

"Please, harder!"

Jake grunted in response. He obliged, happily. Selfishly, too. He scrunched his nose and bared his teeth with each thrust.

When you called out the number fifteen with a loud and long moan, he switched things up.

He lifted your legs so you could use his body to lean them on. In this position, you were slightly lifted upwards. He pulled almost all the way out and pushed all the way back in your pussy. The angle made your entire body flinch. He waited for you to say the next number out loud, but his patience ran out fast. "We're not even halfway done and you've gone dumb already? That's my good girl."

With the next ten thrusts, Jake successfully fucked the shyness out of you. You counted down from 15 to 5 loud enough to please him and most certainly loud enough to be heard. He was reaching so deep inside of you, that a few of those numbers failed to come out of your mouth. Instead, your incoherent "Ah, ah, ah" drove Jake even crazier and that made him want to keep hitting that sweet spot.

Now, there were five thrusts left. You could tell that Jake was dangerously close to the edge by the way he grunted louder and without any restraint. He was lost in the moment, without a care for the world that surrounded him. All that mattered to him was making you feel good.

"Fuck!" You cried out when his thumb brushed over your untouched clit. "That wasn't part of the," you panted, he rubbed your clit faster. "Of the rules."

"Do I look like I care?" He breathed out. "Look at me."

You batted your cock drunk eyes at him and took in the view. He looked so good, all sweaty and needy from this different, and much more entertaining, form of exercise.

"That's it, forget about it. You don't need to think." He pulled out, leaving just his leaky tip inside your hole. He watched your chest rise and fall with anticipation for the next thrust that followed quickly after.

"5... 4..." You counted along.

"3," Jake counted down with you. His thumb rubbed your clit at the perfect pace and intensity. Your pussy clenched so tight around him that he knew the last couple of thrusts would make it almost impossible not to cum too quickly. You were both so close. "Just like that, baby. You're taking me so fucking good."

"2." Your face twisted into a blissful expression. Nothing else mattered other than your imminent release. You rested your hands on Jake's arms, kind of trying to keep him close but also kind of trying to push him away so you could process the way your body felt in this very moment.

Jake stilled inside of you. The way your walls clenched and relaxed around his cock felt heavenly. He pulled out completely and sat back. He grunted when he caught the view of your pussy, juices leaking down on the towel from your stretched out hole. You looked so tempting, so delicious. If only he had more time, he would devour you like there was no tomorrow. If only. "Ready, baby?"

You nodded, hands reaching in his direction to try and bring him back where you needed him the most, which was balls deep inside of you.

"Yeah, you are." He leaned forward to kiss you, a distraction from the touch of his fingers on your sensitive clit. He needed you closer, impossibly closer, so that he could feel you explode all around him.

You arched your back. He swallowed your moans. Your legs tried to wrap around his waist, you were trying anything to get him to make you see stars.

"I regret this stupid bet." He scoffed. He looked down at his slick covered cock, it was red and veiny like the rest of his abdomen. It throbbed between your bodies. He could not wait any longer. He used his free hand to line himself with your entrance for the last time. He took a deep breath and exhaled when he pushed his cock inside of you.

Inch by inch, you felt all of his length until he bottomed out. With his thumb rubbing your clit, it all felt so intense. You let out your loudest moans yet when you started to cum on his command.

Jake tried to talk you through it, telling you that you were his "perfect cockslut" and that "your pussy was made to take my cum". He slurred his words more than anything.

His voice echoed in your empty mind, so did the sound of his grunts when your clenching walls brought him to his orgasm.

He fought to keep his eyes open so he could watch your reaction to being filled with his load. Jake moaned your name when your pussy relaxed around him. It finally let him move, not that he wanted to.

Your legs fell down on the floor and you laid there, giggling to yourself. Jake lost no time to join you, laughing along while he kissed your lips.

You put one hand on his cheek and the other one on the back of his head, not caring for his sweaty hair. You pulled him closer for another kiss. You wanted this moment to last forever, and, well, you desperately wanted a second round.

"Oh shit." Jake cursed when he was called out for his ice bath again. "Just in time." He pointed out the odd timing, right when you guys finished. The was no way this was a coincidence.

Your eyes widened at the realization. There was no way this was a coincidence. They heard you. They heard it all.

"Coming!" Jake yelled out then exploded in a fit of giggles while he stood up and put his gym shorts back on.

"You're unbelievable." You, finally, laughed along with him while trying to hold your body up on your wobbly knees.

Jake looked down at you and scrunched his nose again. "You look so fucking good down there."

"I know." You agreed.

Jake winked at you, then he told you how you were the unbelievable one. He adjusted himself in his boxers, apprehending the temperature shock that awaited him, but you pushed his hands out of the way.

You licked over his puffy, red abs in a long stripe. You tasted his salty sweat on your tongue while you kept going for as far as you could.

You earned a loud grunt and helping hands to pull you back up on your feet. "You're not shy now, huh?" He smiled from ear to ear while he watched you dress up too. Jake promised himself that he was not going to let this be the only time you licked his sweat like that. You could not get away with doing something so hot.

You caught him staring so you stole a quick kiss from his lips as to not take an even longer and more suspicious amount of time before sending Jake back to his fitness team.

"Don't worry, baby." He tried to reassure you, which worked for a split second. "Everybody already heard you while you were cumming. I'm sure they won't mind if we take a little more time." Jake held your jaw in his hand and planted a long kiss on your lips, making sure you did not wiggle away from him just yet. He called the shots, or so he liked to think, and only pulled away when his named was called out again.

You shooed him away, laughing along.

"Go back to the house and wait for me there, yeah?" He started to jog away from you and exited the gazebo. "I'll need something to warm me up afterwards." He turned around to wink at you and he disappeared from your sight. You could still hear his mischievous giggling while you collected your senses, until the noise was replaced with the group of men loudly discussing the amount of ice to put in the makeshift bath.

You picked up the towel from the floor, hiding the evidence that the drops of his cum left behind, and you grabbed your phone from where Jake left it. You squinted when you noticed how it was propped up against a boxing glove, aimed in the direction where Jake fucked you. You gasped audibly when you discovered that your phone was recording the scene the entire time. You held your phone tightly in your hand and walked out of the gazebo, heart racing and heat radiating from your core.

Jake was right: he would need something warm to help him recover from the ice bath. And with this little video of yours... You knew exactly how to keep his favourite set of holes ready.

[letmelickyoureyeballs]

Witcher Fic Recs

Wanted to make a list of some of my favorite Witcher fics! Most of these are not Jaskier/Geralt, but I did add some, and they are just as good! A lot are also Explicit, and some need an AO3 account to access. Feel free to message me if you want your work taken off this list.

*I do not claim any of these fics as mine, and I give all the credit to the original authors*

"Bat Out of Water" by @tafkamayle One of if not my favorite Witcher fic! 65k words, Explicit, Jaskier/Geralt Jaskier/Eskel Jaskier/Lambert, Vampire and Pirate AU

"The Songbird of The Cats" by @ohwhoopsok I've read this one so many times I cannot recommend it enough! 28k words, Mature, Jaskier/OCs Jaskier/Aiden Jaskier/Lambert, Jaskier becomes the School of the Cats new obsession, little non-human Jaskier

"The Shape of Love" by @jaskierswolf 17k words, Teen and Up, Shifter AU, Geralt/Jaskier, there's a bunch of works in this series and they're all great!

"Fateful Red" by @tafkamayle again, 16k words, Explicit, Jaskier/Geralt, Soulmates and No Powers AU, I love this one so much!

"That's my Jam(bert)" by @greenbirddraws/GreenBird, 14k words, Explicit, Jaskier/Lambert, I love them together so much!

"So Tight I'd Bruise You" by @sweetpeapod 496 words, General Audience, Jaskier/Lambert, little hurt/comfort and soft Lambert

"Cat Up A Tree(Going Down on a Witcher)" by Hallianna, 10k words, Explicit, Aiden/Jaskier/Lambert, love this one a lot!

"Bring Your Hunger" by @sweetpeapod again, 2k words, Teen and Up, Jaskier/Lambert, teasing and fluff

"Take a Chance on Second Chances" by Caelanmiriel, 9k words, Explicit, Jaskier/Lambert, some courting rituals

"Fingertips" by @ohwhoopsok again, 3k words, Explicit, Jaskier/Lambert, Lambert can't get hard, some fluff, this one is super sweet!

"to the wolves" by @besselfcn 1k words, Mature, Jaskier/Lambert/Eskel/Geralt, Past SA, hurt/comfort, revenge, past Valdo/Jaskier

"I Just Want to Feel You" by @stfustucky 6k words, Explicit, Jaskier/Geralt/Lambert/Eskel, Geralt and Eskel fuck up some aftercare so Lambert has to make things right, super sweet one!

"Soap, and the Scents of Home" by @round--robin/round_robin 32k words, Explicit, Jaskier/Geralt/Eskel/Lambert, lots of touch-starved Witchers, Scent kink, an amazing series!

"5 Times Geralt was Cat-Like (+1 Time He Was Wolf-Like)" by @xrdragonix 2k, General Audience, Geralt/Jaskier, Wolf and Cat traits, super cute and wholesome!

If you enjoyed any of these please let the authors know with comments, kudos, and/or bookmarking it!

[hayakawalove]

A Little Pain Never Hurt Nobody

Summary: Life was dull lately. You needed something to jump start you. You figure you may as well check out the local sex club, cause why not? You meet "professional" dom Suguru and he shows you a whole new world of pain and pleasure. You're in for a ride.

A/N: This is. Um. Yeah.

I purposefully didn't make it too extreme as this is your first time engaging in anything like this. I hope you enjoy.

P.S I've never been to a sex club so excuse me if this is completely wrong

CW: Smut, Masochism, Sadism, Impact Play, Flogging, Dacryphilia, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Spanking, Slapping, Face Slapping, Rough Sex, Aftercare, Sex Club, Top Getou Suguru, Alcohol, Choking, Dominance, Submission, Humiliation, Degradation, Biting, Dirty Talk, Name-Calling, Creampie, Praise Kink, Pain, AFAB Reader, Female Reader

W/C: 7,232

Credit to @benkeibear for the divider

Why were you doing this again? To be honest, you didn’t really know the answer yourself. Everything had just been so boring lately. You needed something to spice up your life. That’s what you told yourself at least, when you were standing in front of the club with blacked out windows. 

It was a sex club specifically. It had always piqued your interest, but you were never crazy enough to actually check it out. 

Not until now, apparently. 

You wrap your trembling hand around the door handle, pulling it open to feel a blast of warm air. At least it was better than staying outside in the freezing temperature. 

I’ll just check it out, I won’t stay for long. You told yourself.

When you entered you were greeted by a woman standing at a desk. She wore a bright white smile and a black choker. 

“Welcome! ID please.” 

“Oh, right.”

You fish in your purse to grab your ID to show to her. Were kids really dumb enough to try to sneak into this place? Scratch that, you remember being young and stupid. 

“Have a good time!” She bids you, passing your ID back. 

You give a nervous smile before walking further in, a blast of stimulation coming at you from all angles. 

The lights were dim, but you noticed colorful shapes being projected around the room, dancing. In tandem with the lights, there were women and men on platforms moving their bodies to the rhythm of the music. And the music, it wasn’t as loud as a normal club, but it still just added to everything. It was almost too much. 

You walk in, the exciting energy drawing you in further. People were in various stages of undress, but no one seemed bothered by the nudity. 

A man passes you, his neck collared and leashed as he follows a woman in high heels. He smiles at you before the girl tugs the leash, pulling him further. 

Okay, that’s new. 

You hear a shrill sound, a woman screaming. 

Your head whips to the direction of the noise, fear briefly settling in your veins before you remember where you are. 

The sight that greets you confuses you. 

A woman was strapped to a metallic x, her body completely nude baring her ass for the small crowd to see. Her bottom was tinged bright red. If you looked close enough, you thought you could see her skin begin to split open. 

A man stood behind her, a crop held tightly in his hand. His eyes flicked to her face before back down, slamming the crop against her again. 

She let out a wail causing you to jump. It looked like it hurt so bad. 

And that excited you. 

The man runs the crop over her skin, her sobs echoing as he teased her tender flesh. Long black hair cascaded down his back, thin eyes scrutinizing her. 

Just as you were admiring his beauty, you noticed his gaze settle on you. You wanted to look away, but you just couldn’t. Not when his demanding authority had captured you. 

The moment was over as soon as it started, and his attention was back to the woman. You force yourself to look away and head to the bar, suddenly feeling light headed. 

You stand next to the shiny counter and the bartender struts up to you. 

“What can I get you?”

“Just water.” You croak out, your throat feeling dry. 

He turns around and passes you a bottle of water, free of charge, before attending to a different customer. 

The cool liquid slides down your throat while you watch the scenes before you. The performance was seemingly over as the masses of people surrounding it had dispersed. Your gaze flickers across the dancers in front of you. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” 

“Yes they,” you start, turning towards the source of the voice. 

The man from earlier stood next to you, eyes on the dancers. 

“Are.” You finish. 

He was even more stunning up close. His hair was like satin, flowing down his back. Dark golden eyes, and he was tall. 

He turns his head to you and smiles, seeing the way you admire him. 

“You’re new here.” He strikes up a conversation. 

You shuffle in place, looking down at your water bottle and back up. 

“That obvious, huh?” 

He gifts you a serene smile. 

“I’ve never seen your face before, and you weren’t as calloused to the play scene.” 

You fumble with the bottle, the sound of it crinkling filling the space. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, everyone needs to start somewhere.” He comforts you. 

One look at how genuine he seemed soothed your nerves. Earlier he exuded power, quiet dominance leaking from his pores. But now he seemed like a regular guy. 

“I suppose you’re right.” You finish the water bottle and set it beside you. 

“So what brings you here?” 

“I was bored.”

He lets out a hearty chuckle at your response, his eyes closing. 

“You were bored so you decided to go to a sex club for the first time?” 

Heat floods through your cheeks, you were unsure if he was teasing you or not. 

“I mean I’ve always been interested, just never got around to it.” 

Another scene was unfolding, drawing most of the people away from you as they gathered to observe it. You almost thought you were going to have more breathing room that way, but somehow it was even more stifling. All of this man’s attention was on you, and there was no one around you to dull it out. 

“What do you think so far?” 

You played with your opinions in your head. It was strange, but you liked it. Everyone seemed happy here, and there were no aspects of a normal club that weighed it down. 

“I like it. It’s a bit more than I expected, but it’s exciting.” 

He seems satisfied with your answer. He flags down the bartender and orders a whiskey, before turning his attention back to you. 

“And what did you think of the scene?” 

The question jolts you. The air around it felt different than his first question. It almost felt like he was asking you to rate him. 

“I-it was good. I liked it a lot actually.” 

The air shifted around you, you were beginning to feel that commanding presence of his again. 

“I’m glad.” 

His voice runs a shiver up your spine and you have to will yourself to contain it. 

His drink arrives and you watch as he brings his mouth to the rim, a small sip of brown liquid kissing his lips. 

“Why did you start coming here?” You can’t help but ask. 

The man turns to you with a smile. 

“I like making people happy, and it’s something I enjoy.” 

You press him further and he reveals more. 

“People feel much more open here, like they don’t have to hide their true selves. It’s refreshing. I like seeing people’s genuine smiles.”

The answer simmers in your brain. You don’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that. What a kind man. It was almost unbelievable he was the same one hitting the woman earlier. 

“I’ve actually always wanted to do something like that.”

He sets his glass down and cocks a brow at you. 

“From your scene, I mean.” 

He turns his full attention to you. You piqued his interest. 

“Why haven’t you?”

“I just didn’t know where to start. It’s kind of a bit scary.” 

He seems to be contemplating something, eyes looking up. You watch as his finger taps the glass. 

“I could always help, if you’re still interested.” He offers, swirling the amber liquid before tossing his head back, taking another swig. 

It feels like gravel is in your throat now, settled somewhere between your voice box and tongue. The mushy pink muscle refuses to cooperate inside your mouth. 

“It doesn’t have to be me of course. I can always see if someone else here would help if you would prefer that. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” 

“N-no! I mean yes! That would be great, trying it with you, I mean.” You rush out, an overwhelming amount of heat rushing to your cheeks. 

You think you see something akin to a smirk spark over his features before he nurses the reaction back down to something more neutral. 

“Great.” 

“So, are you like a professional or something?” You fiddle with your hair. 

“More or less.” 

He stands up and leans over the bar, rummaging around until he finds what he’s looking for. Orange post it notes and a pen. 

You study his face while he looks down, scribbling his number onto the paper. His penmanship is surprisingly neat, something you weren’t used to seeing from men. Then again, something told you he wasn’t like most men. 

“Here, text me if you decide you’re still interested. We can set something up and discuss hard and soft limits, and also share our results as we both should get tested first.” 

You grip the paper once he hands it to you, eyes dancing across the conglomerate of numbers. 

“You don’t have like, a business card or something?” 

He lets out a chuckle, leaning against his chin as he watches you. 

“I’m not that professional. I have a full time job and a life outside of this, it’s just something I do for fun. Although, I do have lots of experience, probably more than anyone else here.” 

You clear your throat and look back down at the note. At the top, he wrote his name. 

“Suguru.” You taste the sound of his name, letting the syllables fall from your lips. 

“That would be me.” He says with a smile. “What would your name be?” 

You tell him your name and try to not run away when you hear him repeat it back to you. Your name had never sounded so good before, you were sure of it. 

“Alright, well if you decide you want to go forward just text me. We’ll get something figured out.” He drinks the rest of his whiskey, sliding a couple of dollar bills down before standing up. 

You wave goodbye, your skin buzzing off the high from talking to him. He was such a good looking guy, and he seemed so kind. Was this real? Was he really going to help you experience something new? 

There was only one way to find out. 

~~~

You and Suguru had been texting for several days ironing everything out. He asked you what you were interested in trying, and it took you longer than you were willing to admit to come up with a list. 

It was partly because you had no idea what you wanted to try. How could you pick? The other part of it was that it felt embarrassing sending him the list. Sure you met him at a sex club, and he offered to help, but it almost felt too vulnerable. You hadn’t even shared these fantasies with some of your boyfriends. Maybe that was why you agreed to let him help you. There was no personal connection, no fear of rejection. 

After many hours, you were able to create a list. 

Impact play

Choking

Hair pulling

Biting

Sensory play

It wasn’t the most extreme list. You were quite sure he had seen and done much worse, but you were still sort of scared. He complimented it once you sent it, and let you know to start thinking of safe words. You had heard of the idea before, so you knew you would have to pick them. 

Along with the list, he also told you to get tested for any STDs, not that he didn't trust you he told you, but it was more procedure. He told you he was going to get checked as well. 

The day came where you were to meet Suguru once more at the atmospheric spot. He told you to bring a change of comfy clothes, drink lots of water, and come on a full stomach. Having instructions to follow before sex felt weird in a way. It almost felt as though the scene had started before you arrived. 

You checked yourself out one last time in the mirror in your bedroom. You wore a short black dress, complimenting all of your favorite parts of your body. Telling yourself you wore it only for you, but you secretly hoped Suguru would be pleased when he saw it. 

You didn't know whether or not to be let down when his eyes didn’t linger over your body when you arrived. You found him talking with a couple of people, ones you recognized. It was the man on a leash and his owner. The man stood patiently behind her while she spoke with Suguru, a friendly demeanor between the two. 

When he saw you, his eyes glanced down at your outfit then back up, excusing himself from the conversation. He rested his hand against your lower back, guiding you towards a long row of doors. 

“Are we not doing it out in the main area?” You ask. 

He glances at you with a smile before opening a door, a big room inside. 

“No, it’s your first time. I wouldn’t make you do that. Unless, of course, you want to do it in front of everyone.” The lilt in his voice makes your hair stand on edge. 

“N-no. Here is much better.” 

He closes the door behind you, walking over to a chair. On it lies a piece of paper. He lifts it up and brings it over to you. It was his test results, all clean. You dig into your purse to bring your results out too and hand them over to him. 

“Good. Are you on birth control?” He asks, eyes looking over the sheet. 

You straighten up and open your mouth, nerves beginning to settle over you. 

“Yes.” 

“Okay.” Suguru sets the paper aside. “Oh actually, I wanted to talk about something on your list. We won’t be able to do the typical choking you’re probably thinking of. Too much risk involved so it’s not allowed in clubs like this. I’m sorry.” 

You feel disappointment in your chest but you nod in agreement. 

“That makes sense, okay.” 

“Have you put any thought into the safe word? Most people use red, yellow, and green. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, and green for all good.” He suggests. 

“I’ll do those then, if that’s alright.” You fidget with your fingers, digging into the side of your dress. 

He smiles at you before looking down at the bag you brought. 

“Oh! These are the change of clothes you asked me to bring. I also had lots of water and just ate.” 

“Good girl.” He purrs, the sound of it instantly turning your face hot. 

Suguru peers at you and smiles to himself once he notices your reaction. 

“Oh, you’re gonna be fun.” He says, more to himself than you. 

You dart your eyes away, finding it hard to look at him. So instead, you study the room you’re in. There was a floor length mirror, a large bed, and various sex tools on the wall. The room itself looked comfortable, if not for the daunting things that were meant to cause pain. 

“So how do we um, you know, start this I guess? I’ve never done it before-“ you find yourself rambling. 

Suguru closes the distance between the two of you, making you gasp out. His finger slides under your chin tilting your head up. 

“Just relax, let me take care of it princess.” 

His lips are on yours. They felt plush, molding to yours while his tongue slots in your mouth. You grasp his shirt for support. All oxygen had exited your body the second you felt him press up against you. 

It’s not that you were against the idea, it was far from it actually, but you didn’t expect it to happen so fast. 

Suguru’s large hand spans across your cheek, long fingers pressed into your skin. He walks you backwards until you hit a wall, and it takes everything in you to continue standing on your own. His tongue grazes against yours, drawing out a soft moan from you. 

“How cute.” Suguru pulls away to speak, instead choosing to place kisses down your neck. 

“A-ah!” You dig your fingers into his shoulder, feeling his teeth graze against your sensitive flesh. 

He doesn’t bite down like you expected. Instead, he decides to continue sliding his tongue down your neck, occasionally bumping his teeth against your throat. It was as if he was reminding you that he could bite, but he wasn’t going to, not yet at least. 

One thing you should know about Suguru is that he enjoyed playing with his food first. 

Suguru pulls back and looks down at you. Your eyes were glazed over, a mix of both your salivas coating your lips. 

“Wore this for me, huh?” He asks, fingers trailing down your dress. 

The way he stood over you commanded dominance. You had never experienced such a thing before. But in that moment you knew you would do anything he asked. 

“Yes.” Your voice trembles. 

Suguru hums while he further analyzes you. He didn’t know where to start. You gave him a good list, but he also didn’t want to scare you or hurt you, at least not in a bad way. 

“You’re so kind to wear this baby, but I’m gonna need you to take it off now.” His voice commands. 

You pull off the dress, tossing it to the floor before looking up at him expectantly. He chuckles darkly, reaching a thumb up to drag over your lip. He swipes the saliva away, letting his finger slide down your chin, down your chest until he reaches your stomach. There was a predatory glint in his eyes, one that made your skin crawl. He grips your waist hard, turning you around. 

“Turn around.” You follow what he says and face the wall. 

Suguru stands back and admires your form as you follow his directions. He looks at your underwear, a lacy thong, before looking back up. Your body trembles beneath his gaze, the weight of those feline eyes searing into your back. 

He steps back to grab a tool, one of many in his arsenal. It was a flogger, the handle of it fitting comfortably in his palm as he steps back closer to you. 

“This is called a flogger. People use it as a whip. I’m going to strike you a couple times, and I want you to tell me how it feels.” 

“O-okay.” 

He desperately wants to correct you on your manners, the urge tickling the back of his throat. He much would have preferred a “yes sir”. But this is your first time, so he refrains. If you visit again though, he won’t be so lenient. 

Suguru raises his hand, brandishing the flogger, before bringing it back down against your ass. The feeling jolts you, your body jumping up in response. It didn’t hurt per se, but you could definitely feel it. He must’ve been holding back, and that fact irked you a bit. 

“How was that?” His voice remains steady. 

“It was okay.” If only you could keep your voice as steady as his. 

He hums in response before bringing the whip back down on your other cheek. This time was much harder, sending a shock of pain across your skin. The pain traveled straight to your pussy where you feel yourself clench around nothing, the act somehow more painful than the whip. 

“Better?” He asks, flicking his eyes up to look at your head. 

Your head was turned sideways, your lip caught between your teeth. You wanted to try things like this, always intrigued by the idea of pain during sex. But you had no idea it would feel this good. 

“Better, feels good.” You admit, inhibition slowly falling. 

Suguru strikes you again, this time even harder than the last. Heat spreads across your ass, the action making you moan out. Pure ecstasy. Your arms tremble as you keep yourself against the wall. 

Your eyes dart to the side to catch a glimpse as best as you can of the man. He looks nothing short of a god behind you, tall and unwavering. His raven locks flow down his shoulders, keen eyes focused on your figure. 

Suguru sets the flogger down before pulling a hairband out, dragging his fingers through his hair as he gathers it all into a bun. Can’t have any hair getting in the way of his vision, after all. 

He picks the flogger back up and drags it across your backside, sending goosebumps across your skin. 

“Keep your face forward.” There was that commanding voice again. 

You snap your head forward once more, eyes boring into the wall in front of you. Anticipation settles in your veins, heart racing at the idea of him hitting you again. 

“I'm going to keep going, and I want you to count after every single one.” 

“What happens if I lose count?”

“Don’t.”

He strikes you once more, a sob racking your body. A temporary moment of bliss settles over your bones before you remember what he told you to do. 

“One.” 

“That’s a good girl.”

Again. Again. Again. 

Each strike was more painful than the last. Every time he made contact with your skin, you jumped forward and groaned out. 

He continues bringing the flogger down on your ass, each time making you cry out. Your voice shaky each time you counted. Tears were blearing your eyes from the pain, from the pleasure. You find it hard to stay standing up, the room spinning around you and your knees almost buckling underneath you. 

Suguru keeps his eyes trained on your ass, noticing the beginnings of marks start to form. It pleased him greatly to see your skin react, the mere sight causing his slacks to tighten. 

“F-f-f-fifty!” You sob. 

Suguru sets the flogger down and spins you around, almost groaning from the sight of your tear stricken face. 

“Did so good princess. What’s your color?” He asks, dragging his hands up your shoulders, rubbing your skin soothingly. 

It was almost hard to believe those hands were the same ones causing you so much pain. 

“Green, green.” You look up desperately at him, needing to know what else he had in store for you. 

He brings a hand up, the back of his forefinger swiping beneath your lash line under both sides. He watches the way your tears coat his skin, and it takes everything in him not to bring his finger up to his mouth to lick off the salty remenents of the calamity he caused. 

“Good.” He says. 

He didn’t even break a sweat, meanwhile your chest was heaving like you ran a marathon. A part of you was desperate to see him at his worst, see what he looked like when he really went all in. 

“Get on your knees.” His voice was soft but demanding. 

You sink to your knees and look up, waiting for more instructions. He smoothed a hand over your head before bringing you closer. 

“You know what to do from here. Unless, that pretty brain of yours is already too far gone.” 

You look down at the hard bulge in front of you. His pants were hardly doing anything, you could see the outline of it all. Your hands reach up and fumble before finally successfully dragging his pants and underwear down, his cock jumping out. 

You feel drool pile up behind your lips, your tongue feeling too heavy in your mouth. You had been with guys before, but you were sure no one compared to him. 

His angry tip stands at attention while you bring your lips down, popping his cock in your mouth. It felt somehow larger in your mouth than it looked, and it didn’t look small. It fills you to the brim, your cunt throbbing as his heavy cock rests against your tongue. Suguru hisses at the feeling of your wet mouth engulfing him. He was sensitive and needy. Hearing your cries got him more riled up than he had led on. 

Your tongue slides around his cock while you take more into your mouth. His cock slides down your throat, oxygen slowly depleting from your lungs. Suguru keeps his hands to his sides, merely observing you. It felt like you were putting on a show for him. 

Spit begins to flow freely from your lips, dripping from the corners of your mouth while you move your head back and forth along his cock. There was a fire underneath you, the raw flesh of your ass clawing at you. 

You couldn’t focus on that though, there was only him. 

“Oh right, you said you wanted to try choking right?” He begins. 

You look up at him, your eyes starting to water again. 

“Take all of it in and hold it.” He demands. “You can manage that, can’t you pretty baby?” 

You squeeze your eyes shut while you slide down further, his pubic bone meeting your nose. You couldn’t breathe at all, your body quickly setting off alarms to get you to back off. But he gave you an order, and you intended on listening to it. 

You couldn’t breathe. You needed to breathe. But, you didn’t want to. The feeling of lightheadedness made your clit throb. Knowing that his cock was in control of whether or not you deserved oxygen. 

Suguru chuckles softly and leans his head back, closing his eyes. He could feel the way your throat clenched around him, feel your lips adjust around him. 

After what felt like an eternity he finally looked back down at you. Something akin to pride laces his features. 

“Release.” With that, you tear your head away, gasping as air fills you once more. 

Long strings of saliva connects you to his cock, lewd in a way that almost made you flustered. 

“Continue.” 

You slide his cock back into your mouth once you feel able. You’re more faster the second time around, your throat having already been melded into the shape of his cock. His brows furrow while he watches you, groans escaping his mouth. 

You decide you could do this forever. Nothing else mattered when you were pleasing him, you would continue to do so if he let you. 

However, he had other plans. 

“That’s it.” He says, pulling his cock from you. 

You go to wipe the tears and spit from your face but he grabs your wrist before you’re able. 

“Leave it.” 

Suguru helps you to your feet, the action once more astoundingly sweet. It was making your head rush being surrounded by the two versions of him. 

He grabs your arms and brings them up, placing them on his shoulders. He looks into your eyes as he gets on his knee, his hands ghosting over your waist. 

“I’m going to take these off now.” He says, giving you room to stop him. 

But you don’t. 

You watch as he looks down, his face right in front of your pussy. He hooks his hands on the band of your underwear, sliding them off your legs. You lift one leg up at a time, suddenly grateful you have something to hold onto. 

Suguru drops your underwear to the side and runs his hands up your thighs. He places a kiss on your tummy before standing to his full height again, his hands reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. 

There was nothing to feel ashamed about. He had already seen you go through more than anyone else had, so why did you have to fight yourself to remain neutral as he took your body in? 

His features look serene as his gaze drags across your body, no detail going unmissed. 

“Stunning.” He looks back up at you, capturing your attention. 

Your throat feels dry as you scramble for a response. 

“Thank you.” 

“Did you know you’re dripping, princess?” 

Your thighs clench together and you feel the slick coating your inner thighs. You grimace and nod. 

“Is this from getting whipped or from sucking my cock?”

“Both.” 

Suguru hums in satisfaction, looking back down between your legs. 

“Want some help with that?” 

Your heart lurches in response but you timidly nod, following him as he leads you to the bed. It’s much softer than it looks, the comforter giving your ass some reprieve as you lay down on the side of the bed. Suguru spreads your legs, watching as the low light catches on the glint of your leaky core. 

He bends down, placing gentle kisses down your chest as he goes. Suguru looks up and notices how your nipples begin to harden as his administrations. So damn sensitive. How adorable. 

He travels down until he’s placing kisses closer to your pussy. The feeling was teasing in nature, but you didn’t want to rush him. Clearly he knew what he was doing. You might as well enjoy the ride. 

Suguru places a kiss on either side of your pussy before pulling away, pupils focusing in on your unmarred thighs. 

Oh, no that won’t do. 

He gets in closer bringing his mouth to your skin. Your body reacts before you can even register what’s happening. Your legs try to clamp shut but his strong hands are holding them open. Looking down you notice that Suguru had bit into your inner thigh, his dark eyes staring right back at yours. 

The sensation was unlike anything you had felt before. His teeth dig into your flesh, your mouth hanging open as you watch him. Suguru sucks lightly, his tongue darting out over the bite mark before pulling away. The sting of it spreads throughout you, but pure pleasure does as well. Who knew pain from so many different things could feel this good? 

Suguru closes his eyes before bringing his mouth to the other side, teeth digging into your other leg. You moan out, fighting to keep your legs open for him. There was dynamite going off underneath your skin, you were positive of that. 

He couldn’t wait any longer. He pulls away from your leg and draws himself in closer towards your throbbing pussy. He holds back a coo when he notices your hole clench. 

He darts his tongue out, flicking it against your clit to test you. And just as he expected, you let out a desperate moan. Your reactions were driving him crazy, each noise causing his mind to reel. 

Suguru dives in completely, his lips encasing your clit. You wanted to cry from the pleasure, his tongue working magic against your sensitive clit. He drags one hand away from your thigh to bring up to your pussy, feeling as though it deserves to be filled. 

A finger works its way inside you, immediately hooking against your gspot. You laugh incredulously before tossing your head back, reveling in the pleasure he was indulging you in. 

It was almost criminal how good he was. 

His tongue dances across your clit while he slides a second finger in, both of them slowly working your gspot. You had never been brought to cumming so fast before, you would be ashamed if only it didn’t feel so good. 

Your moans bounce off the walls of the room, the sound filling Suguru’s ears. You keep your eyes clamped shut in fear of what you might do if you saw the sight in front of you. 

Suguru knows before you do, your pussy tightening around his fingers. He fucks you harder with them, sucking your clit as you cum. It feels like an out of body experience as he fucks you through it, bringing you down until your groans die out and the sound of your heavy breathing fills your ears. 

He pulls his fingers out of you, swiping them against his tongue. Sure, he had many clients before now, but none of them were as sweet as you. It almost felt wrong to call you a client, this experience felt different compared to previous ones. 

You peel your eyes open and watch as Suguru brings himself on the bed, his face hovering over yours. 

“You’re cute when you cum,” he starts. “Cute when you cry too.” 

You force your head to turn, staring away from him. The compliment simmers in your gut while you feel the body heat between you grow. 

“Yeah, okay.” You murmur, self conscious. 

“I’m serious.” He brings a finger under your chin to guide your gaze back to him. 

As much as you want to disagree, you can see the truth his eyes hold. He was so damn kind. Many people would disagree with you. They would say no one who was a good person would enjoy hurting other people. But you knew the truth. Suguru was a kind man. 

“You ready?” He asks. 

Excitement bubbles up and you part your lips, telling him you are. 

He presses his lips down on yours, wanting to share a tender moment before he fucks the life out of you. He locks his fingers into yours on either side of your head, before pulling away. 

“Hands and knees.” His rough persona is back. 

You crawl up on the bed, facing away from him. He takes a moment to appreciate the scene in front of him, your beaten ass on display as your cum drips down your legs. A new world wonder, if he was being honest with himself. 

Suguru slides his shirt off, throwing it off to the side by your dress. Heat flickers beneath his skin as he watches you. He smooths a hand over your back as he grips his cock and rubs it between your sticky folds. The anticipation was killing you, knees practically shaking from the suspense. 

Suguru slides into you, your walls struggling to accommodate him. Your mouth hangs open as he nudges into you. Nothing had ever felt so good, the pressure of his cock filling you to the brim. 

“God damn it, princess.” You think you hear him say. 

He sets a steady pace, wanting to slowly build up before getting back into the roughness of it all. His hips push into you a couple of times before he picks up speed. You moan out each time his cock plunges into you. You would have gotten lost in it if he didn’t snap you out. 

Suguru threads his finger in your hair, getting a firm grip before he pulls it back. He holds it in a tight grasp, pain searing throughout your head. 

Each part of you throbbed. Your ass, your thighs, your head. But somehow you craved more. Craved more pain. Craved more Suguru. 

Suguru bares his teeth as he fucks you, your pussy tightening around him each time he yanks your hair. 

Each thrust causes your mind to blank. He was fucking all sense out of you. 

Suguru releases your hair before gripping your shoulder, yanking you back until your shoulder blades meet his chest. He reaches around in front of you, gripping onto your jaw, leaving you no room to look away as he tilts your head back. 

His hand digs into you, pain settling in your face as he holds you. 

“Tell me how it feels.” He sounds nearly breathless, his eyebrows knitted up in pleasure as he looks at you. 

You furrow your brows as you look up at him, attention being split between his cock fucking into you and his hard grip on your face. 

“H-hurts.” You murmur, your pushed up cheeks making it hard to talk. 

Suguru’s breaths quicken, heart pounding as he thrusts into you. 

“Yeah? Hurts?” Excitement leaks from his voice. 

You nod and let out a sob when his cock presses against your gspot, his grip tightening. 

“What do you think about the pain?”

“L-love it. Love the pain. Love when you hurt me.” 

Suguru audibly swallows, throwing his head back as he lets out a low groan. 

“Think you can handle more, princess?” 

You agree, your mind swimming. He looks down at you again and releases your head, but keeps you pressed against him. 

His hand makes contact with your cheek, a sting instantly spreading across your face. He slapped you. And you liked it. 

Suguru does it once more, the force heavier this time. You moan out when he makes contact, all the while his cock punishing your insides. Endorphins swim in your head, muddling all remaining sense. You brace for impact once more, only to be met with nothing. 

He doesn’t slap you again. 

“Color?” You’re amazed he can even remember asking that while he’s doing this. 

“Green, oh, green.” 

Suguru smacks you again, his cock fucking you harder. You weren’t even aware you could moan this loud, but leave it to Suguru to give you a bunch of firsts. 

Your eyes roll back as he slaps you again. He feels a deep satisfaction spread through him as he watches the pleasure dart across your face. That’s what all this was about, after all. 

Suguru pushes you back down and you barely catch yourself, your hands holding you up. He puts one hand on your waist, placing the other one in your hair again. The loud noises from your connected sexes get louder, your pussy dripping even more as his cock drags inside you.

He pulls your head up, forcing you to stare in the mirror across the bed. 

“Look at yourself.” He wills himself to say. 

To say you looked debauched would be an understatement. Your face was a mess, tears streaming down your puffy cheeks. You couldn’t see your ass or the inside of your thighs in the mirror, but you didn’t have to see them to feel they were there. They hadn’t been hurt in awhile now, but the wounds still ached something fierce. You briefly wondered how long they would hurt. Hopefully for a long time. 

“You look filthy. Utterly ruined.” His cock punches into you. 

“Ohhh, fuck, FUCK!” You all but yell as his cock bruises you from the inside out. 

Suguru moans behind you, going back and forth between looking at your face in the mirror and how his cock looks when he pulls it out. 

He pulls his hand away from your hip and reaches down, instantly finding your swollen clit. Your body lurches forward once he makes contact, drawing tight circles around you. 

“Yes! Yes!” Your voice is raw as it leaves your throat. 

Suguru’s hips stutter as he feels you get closer to the edge. He keeps a tight grip on your hair, loving the way you wince each time he holds tighter. 

“Fuck, you’re soaking. Pussy’s so good. Such a pain slut. You my little pain slut?” 

You nod even though it causes more pain to spread across your head. Maybe that’s why you do it. 

“Yes, I’m your, your pain slut.” 

Suguru groans out a curse, his fingers continuing their ministrations. 

“Gonna cum from getting knocked around?” 

Your stomach tightens, moans increasing. 

“Yes! Oh, fuck, fuck yes.” Your eyes clamp shut as you feel it start. 

You cum around Suguru’s cock, your pussy squeezing his cock as you shake beneath him. The earth shattering feeling catches you off guard, electricity shooting through your body. 

You register a groan from behind you before he pumps into you one more time before his cock shoots cum out, filling your spasming walls. 

It takes you a minute to recover, each gasp of breath bringing you back down to earth. 

Suguru slides out of you carefully, eyes drawn to the way the milky white cum seeps from your abused hole. He pushes back his bangs that came loose before going to the bedside table, rummaging around until he finds a towel. 

His touch is careful as he cleans you up, fingers ghosting over your sensitive skin as he wipes away all remnants of his cum. 

Suguru sets the soiled cloth aside before aiding you in sitting up. You whimper as your ass makes contact with the back of your calves. Your skin was on fire. He places each hand on either side of your face, the action instantly calming. 

“How are you doing?” His soothing voice comes out. 

Your eyes feel heavy as they look back up at him, his features washed over with concern. 

You reach out and ball your fist against his toned chest. 

“I’m okay.” Your voice sounds far away. 

Suguru pulls one hand away and grabs a water bottle that sat next to the bed. He brings his other hand to it and cracks it open, passing it to you. 

You grab it, tilting your head back as the cool water rushes down your throat. You take a couple of gulps before passing it back. 

Instead of the sharp pain from each of your wounds, you’re body settles into a dull ache. The wounds were definitely there, and they were pleasing. 

Suguru gets into the bed next to you and opens his arms. 

“Come here.” Another command, one that was much softer. 

You’re confused by the gesture but you scoot closer to him nonetheless, laying down until your head is directly over his heart. He was still shirtless, only his pants remaining but they were pulled back up and closed. 

“This is an important part of each session. I’m not going to hurt you and send you packing.” He explains, his thumb stroking your arm. 

His warmth seeps into your bones and you find yourself curling up closer to him. 

“That’s sweet of you.” 

“It’s the bare minimum.” He gently says, moving his head until he can see your face. 

Your eyes were closed but you were still very much awake, if not hanging on by the tiny grasp of consciousness you still had. 

“How did you feel about it?” 

You try to articulate your thoughts, many feelings surging through your body. 

“I really liked it.”

“None of it was too much?” 

“No, it all felt really good.” 

Suguru moves his head back as he gets comfortable. He had rented the room out for 24 hours, not knowing how long the session would last or how long you would want to relax after. He had no timeline, willing to stay here for as long as you needed. 

The contact with his skin was helping bring your heart rate down, the adrenaline exiting your body. Your body was sore, and probably would be for the next couple of days. 

“Thank you for helping me with this, I mean, giving me my first experience.” 

Suguru smiles above you. 

“No problem. I enjoyed it too.” 

You feel giddy at his admission. Now that you had done this once, you weren’t sure you could get enough of it. You were already thinking about what your next scene might look like. 

“Could we do it again?” 

“Hm, I don’t know, I feel like you should rest a couple of hours first at the very least.” He ponders, obviously teasing you. 

You click your tongue. 

“You know what I mean.” You say with a shy smile. 

Suguru chuckles above you. 

“I’m kidding. We can do it again. You know where to find me.”

You smile against him, your eyes shutting. Sleep overtakes you, the feeling of success spreading throughout your body. 

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss

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[peterparkersnose]

Sucks to Suck

pairing: Din Djarin x senator!reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: near death experience, sexual references, sexual thots, not smut but sensual i guess?, alcohol consumption and drunk reader, respect of consent, SEXUAL TENSION and description of weaponds and snakes, tiny bit of body dysmorphia, swearing, takes place in between S2 of the Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett

The Mandalorian Airs Tomorrow!

a/n you guys see my padme reference there? huh? enjoy the tension the not angst but angst i loved writing this (it is 1am help i started writing this at 10pm) the sighing gif is literally din giving into his intrusive thoughts this whole story it was too perfect not to use (also i make up star wars planets lmao wut) my favorite mandalorian fic of mine besides secret

summary Din is Senator Y/N’s bodyguard and helps her after an attack

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read time: 10 mins 1 seconds

The Mandalorian your father hired to protect you while you were visiting planet Elaeia was less than ideal.

The same one who also came back to accompany you to a senate meet where there was a threat made against your life.

And the same one that followed you around your whole beach vacation.

Somehow he turned in to an on call babysitter for you. Every time you saw him waiting outside your ship you began to loathe the trip. And soon, he began to show up around your house. Didn’t your father trust you? You were way past the age for need of a babysitter. You were a young adult, you could be the babysitter. And you were a damn senator. But as always, you sucked it up and tried to make the best of the situation.

“Don’t you ever get tired of the suit?” you asked, trudging up the stairs of your luxury apartment you rented for the week.

“Never.” Din lied. He couldn’t count the countless times he had wanted to rip it off and spent a night with you. Chills sent down his spine as he tried to think of something different to ease himself into the long week ahead.

But you were work. Your powerful father was paying him more than any bounty could. He needed the credits more than he needed you, right?

“What do you wear under there anyways?”

He hesitated to answer. “Clothes.”

“Really?” you asked sarcastically.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he muttered, almost barely enough for you to hear.

“Where are you going to crash tonight?” you asked him, placing your bag on the ottoman in front of your bed. “Not tired,” he lied again. The way he wanted to hold you in that comfortable bed was-

He had to stop his thoughts there.

“What time is it?” you asked him. “Around 7.”

“Shit! I’m going to be late.” you panicked. “I’m sorry, I thought we had some time to rest.” you apologized, knowing Din was exhausted from the trip.

The dress that was already hung in the closet for you was what you were going to wear to the banquet tonight. Without even caring, you opened your bag and pulled out the bra you were going to wear for the night. Without hesitation, Din stepped out of the room. Not today.

The dress was a deep blue and was form fitted. It jutted out at the bottom, complimenting your shape. It had long sleeves and a low neckline where your necklace was going to rest that night. You tied your hair up into a large bun with a braid around the base.

“Your train is here…” Din said, stepping in the room carefully. “Thank you. Wait- Mando?”

His heart skipped a beat when you said his nickname. You had known his name for a while, but he still enjoyed it when you called him Mando. Din was stunned at how you looked. I mean, you always looked good. But he could imagine standing next to you at the banquet in a suit, your arm draped over his and a ring on your finger.

The armor didn’t exist in that world.

“Yeah?” he asked. “Can you get this for me?” you asked, handing him the necklace you were going to wear that night. It was gold. Large and resembled tree roots. It was to sit along your chest and clip under your breasts along with behind your neck to stay put.

He handled the necklace carefully. His arms reached up and placed the necklace in front of you as his fingers trailed up the back to clasp the neck clasp.

“Dank farrik,” he sighed. His gloves were in the way of handling the tiny clasp. “Hold it for a second,” he told you. Din sighed as he made the decision. He slowly slipped off each glove and set them down on the bed.

You seemed to tense when his hands brushed your shoulders. You turned your head and saw his gloves sitting at the edge of your bed. The skin was cold and his hands were surprisingly soft.

Din hadn’t touched a woman with his bare hands well… ever. Sure he had brought in bounties who could identify as female. But nobody as elegant and beautiful as you. He would never forget the oddly intimate encounter.

“Thank you,” you said smoothly, adjusting the necklace around your ribcage. “You could call this more of a corset,” you huffed, smiling as you caught a glimpse of his skin as he slipped his gloves back on.

Standing in the mirror, you struggled getting the bottom clasp closed. You turned your body, trying to see if you had gained a bit of weight since you last wore this piece.

“Din,” you called sweetly, almost with a bit of song in your voice. He turned around on his heel as you saw from the mirror and it made you smile. “Yes?” he asked in the same tone you called him.

The way you called for him made him think about one of the rare memories he had of his parents. How one called out to the other. It was a brief moment but gave him deja vu when he heard you speak his name. Speak his name like a wife would call to her husband.

“It won’t-”

The sigh from his modulator was hard to miss.

“Can you help?” you asked, eyes looking up into his viser.

“I’ll hold them, don’t worry.” you smiled, your hands branching down lifting up your breasts.

Under the mask his eyes widened at the comment.

Din got down on his knees to try to get a better angle of the clasp. No other reason. He tried his best to focus on the clip but he couldn’t keep his eyes off the way you held yourself. Thank the gods for the viser, or he would have died of embarrassment.

“How’s it going?” you asked him. You could feel him struggling again with the gloves.

“What if I…”

You attempted to hold your breasts with one arm and had the other hand come down to help him, but the plan failed. Your boobs folded over on his hands without fail.

His hands quickly retreated from your ribcage. You noticed the stress in his demeanor, his breathing quickened.

You thought he was upset with you. Possibly disrespecting his creed, you felt horrible. Guilt knit tightly in your stomach as you knew you were going to think about this event the whole night. The embarrassment was enough for a lifetime.

Din couldn’t care less about his creed at the moment. He had never felt boobs before.

“Oh god! I am so sorry,” you said in horror.

“I can have someone at the banquet do it, let’s just forget-”

You were silenced by the sound of his gloves hitting the ground. Once again, his hands were at your service.

“Let’s get this done. We’re going to be late.” he said.

Grabbing the chain once again, he clasped it on the first try.

He escorted you to the train silently. He held one of your hands in his. The other hand held his pair of gloves.

Din hadn’t even notice you grabbed his hand. And to be honest, you didn’t really either. It was an instinct. Trains always freaked you out and he knew that. The gap between the ground and the train car, the speed they went at. Commercial trains were filled with unsuspecting people. Thankfully, the banquet event sent out personal trains for some of the local senators.

Finally you only noticed when he pulled away to put his gloves back on as you pulled closer to the event.

Had he really been holding your hand the whole time?

Meanwhile back at the apartment you had rented, you expected it to be empty. There was no need for a guard, you had only just arrived. Your location to be revealed to possible rebels wasn’t likely, you were stationed there for only a short time. A guard would follow you home along with Din.

You knew Din was capable of protecting you, he had every time. Something about a man in armor killing in your name just did something to you. But the uncertainty of almost everything about him made you push that idea to the back of your mind. And anyways, you were bound to marry for a political reason some day. It was coming eventually you assumed. Dates were never nearly as exciting as an adventure with Din.

The guard honestly was a joke at this point. It gave your advisors a piece of mind though, so you allowed it.

The seemingly empty apartment was carefully broken into. The sliding glass door from the balcony was opened, no fingerprints left and promptly shut as the rebel left.

Poisonous snakes were left slithering in your sheets.

It was something you would later recognize as a similar thing had happened to a senator many years ago. Poisonous bugs left to crawl in her bed.

Din walked you off the train platform and back to your apartment as quickly as he could. You, on the other hand, we’re being difficult.

“Don’t you ever take vacations?” you asked him, barely able to stand upright. He ignored your strange drunken question and kept holding on to you. “You didn’t answer meee!” you yelled, breaking free from his grasp and raising your hands to the air. The mist had accumulated from the oncoming storm.

“No. I don’t.” he sighed, grabbing your arm gently and guiding you back to the lobby with a hand placed on your lower back.

“Din,” you slurred, holding on to his armor in the elevator. Your fingers marched up his beskar chest plate as you asked him this.

“You ever had a girlfriend before?”

He blinked furiously under his helmet. What the fuck?

“Y/N, let’s get you to bed. Hm?”

“But Dinnn,”

“Come on,” he sighed, placing his hand on your back. The guard was stationed at the door. Din gave him a nod.

“I’m not sleepy!” you insisted, angered that you were being forced to end this wonderful night.

Din threw his gloves on the kitchen counter. He was getting sick of the things. After all these years in gloves, his hands never felt as uncomfortable and sweaty as they did that night.

“Here,” he sighed, steadying you by the shoulder and unclasping the clasp by your neck. The heavy necklace seemed to fall off yourself, only slightly catching at the waist.

“Thank you mister.” you said, letting it drop to the floor with a shake of your hips. Along with that you left your heels.

He saw you face dive into your bed and chuckled a bit as he was picking up after you. That necklace was probably worth more than the beskar he was wearing.

Din eyed up the couch, exhausted after watching you all night. He stood in the balcony of the event and watched you drink yourself almost to the point of embarrassment until he decided it was time for you to return home.

He had just began to settle in when he heard you scream.

It wasn’t like he had heard you scream before. He was used to all the rage screams when an article came out portraying you negatively. He was used to all the screams over the phone with your friends. He was used to the muffled screams he heard as he hid in his quarters when you would have dates over and prayed it would end.

But he would never forget this one.

He knocked over the vase on the coffee table, but didn’t really care.

The prolonged scream attracted the interest of the guard who busted in, spear ready.

Din had made it in the room first. He drew his blaster watched as you simultaneously chucked a snake in his direction. His blaster shot, killing the thing.

“Are you okay?” he asked, grabbing you immediately. You wrapped your arms around his neck and cried into his armor.

The guard ripped back the sheets and found three more slithering in the sheets. The sight of that made you shriek more.

Din’s hand ran across the back of your head. His fingers hadn’t felt hair like that in forever. His own locks didn’t match up to your softness.

The guard removed each snake and silently killed them.

“Cardillian Greybecks,” the guard sighed, now bagging the snake carcasses. “I’m going to bring these down to the base, are you two all right alone or should I call someone?”

“We’re fine.” Din said sternly, praying for the man to leave.

He calmed you enough to sit you back down on the edge of the bed. “Everything is okay. No more snakes, see?” he says, shaking out a blanket.

“Fuck,” you sighed, your hand running down the side of your leg. “You alright?” Din asked, shaking out the pillows just in case.

“I must have scratched my leg in the scuffle, it really fucking hurts.” you slurred, rubbing the side of your leg. Of course the alcohol was still there.

“Oh gods,” Din sighed, asking for your leg immediately. Laying back against the bed, you lifted your right leg in the air for him to inspect. If he wasn’t so worried he would have thought the pose was somewhat provocative.

“Shit,” he sighed. You were bitten.

“What?” you asked eagerly, pulling your leg back. He held on to it though, staring at the festering wound on your leg.

“It hurts. Please,” you begged, pulling your leg back. Din was scrambling on what to do.

“This…” he sighed, hating the only option available. There wasn’t enough time to get you to a proper medic.

“Hold still.”

He slowly lifted his helmet up to the bottom of his nose to reveal his mouth and chin.

“Din!” you yelled as his lips made contact with your skin. “What the-” you began, but immediately soothed as you felt the venom leaving your bite. A needy moan escaped from your lips.

Din spat out the first round of venom. It stung his lips. It wasn’t enough to kill him, it wasn’t in his bloodstream. It tasted bitter and artificial.

“Oh my god,” you whined as his lips continued to suck on the wound. “Din, holy fuck.” you moaned, squirming in his grasp.

Even though you just had been on the brink of death, this was one of the most sensual things you had ever experienced in your opinion. The thought of his lips teasing you drove you up the walls.

He spit out another round. “One more, I’m sorry.”

You gasped at his voice. No mask, no modulator. “Oh gods, don’t stop.” you begged. Your back arched as he took in the final round, finally tasting blood to indicate the venom was gone.

He spit it out on the ground and slipped his mask back on.

“What?” he asked out of breathe. He had convinced himself he didn’t just hear what he thought he did. His ears were muffled by the mask in its awkward position.

Sitting up in bed, you patted the mattress. He sat down.

“That was so hot,” you whispered near his ear.

He didn’t say anything to you. You had prayed he would rip off his mask and take you then and there. Din wanted the same thing too, he would feverishly re play this night over and over in his mind for years.

But you were wasted. And he had a creed.

Even though after each passing day without Grogu his allegiance to his creed drew weaker, he still had his limits.

Din knew you would regret those words in the morning. But the phrase Cara told him many moons ago rung in his brain.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“Talk to me when your sober.” he replied. He stood up and removed the base of the helmet once again. You embraced his body as he kissed you on the top of your head.

“Din,” you feverishly whispered. Without a second thought, you stood up. His body pushed against yours as you passionately kissed his lips. Your nose bumped the mask up more, but neither of you cared. His nose brushed against yours as you kept your eyes shut. The urge to look was strong, but you respected him too much to take a peek.

“One day,” he smiled, breaking the kiss. “Are you sure I can’t see more?” you asked. He shook his head as he pulled the mask down again. “One day,” he repeated, his voice now modulated again.

“Thank you for saving my life.” you said. “Any day,” he said sarcastically.

He placed the blankets securely over you.

The room was dim enough where he was sure if he was ever caught he would have an excuse. And you would lie for him, he was certain of it.

“Just one more thing-” you asked as his silhouette made its way through your door. He turned and looked at you.

“What color are your eyes?”

He had the widest smile on his face. The thought of you trying to form his face in your mind was almost comical for him.

“Brown. Good night, Cyare.”

“I knew they were brown, I knew it.” you whispered to yourself, convinced Din couldn’t hear.

He smiled as he retreated to the couch, unsure if sleep would visit him after his eventful night.

tag list:  @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25​ 

@peeta-is-useless @kirsteng42 @salliebley @bubsonnobx @lexloon @untitledarea @nyotamalfoy​ 

[writingsofanomnivore]

Of Poems and Consoles-Kenma x Reader

for @dira333

Words:920

Warnings- none, domestic fluff. Gender neutral reader.

9:17 pm

The bed is made, the dishes are washed, leftovers in the fridge, the clothes are folded and kept, and the cat is fed. All done before 9:30, just like every day, and just like every day, today is another normal Thursday. You came back from work just before Kenma and started with dinner while he began folding the laundry. After having a quick dinner with some updates on the new clients and partners of Bouncing Ball Corp, and how Kuroo had brought his son (aka your godson), and how Kenma couldn’t help but feed into his pleas and bought him another bag (one could even call it a sack) of candies and chips from the office cafeteria. Funnily enough, he even pulled up a little picture of ‘Uncle Ken Ken’ drawn by the little Kuroo. You must get it framed now. Maybe even keep it in his cabin on one normal visit to surprise both godson and uncle duo.

And now, both of you are in your bedroom, a steaming cup of tea on your little writing table ahead of you while your husband sits leaning on the backrest to end the day with a few games. The book and pen on your table look up at you, waiting for the time you’d pick up the pen and write a line or two. However, on this very normal and usual day, you couldn’t get the words or themes for a good poem. You’ve always written poems to find a sort of solace, comfort, to understand yourself, and to maybe even let go of the past in a beautiful way, but now, there seems no need for it. You’ve got a partner who understands you without words, without actions, without having to utter a syllable. A part of you is convinced that Kenma is a secret author, maybe even a poet with how he can calm you down with a few words that can brighten your dullest days. Here he sat, little whines and sentences of: “Kuroo, don’t do that; we’ll lose the game.” “Shoyo, are you sure you’re on the right server?” “Yes, Bokuto-san, I can see your character doing a 'woah'.”

The quick clicks on his console add a perfect white noise. Maybe you could write about your daily routine and these little things that make it specifically yours.

“

-and now I retreat from my day’s chores, The house is neat, the door is closed. I lie in bed but not alone A piece of me, I’ve always known Lies in him who I call home.

A day so new lies ahead of me It’ll start the same and end with glee For there’ll be this face I’ll get to see.

“

As I close the book I can feel the bed shift on the other side. Sensing him keep his phone on the bedside table, I look up. Golden eyes stare at me expectantly, waiting for the old tradition of being the first and maybe only person to read any new poem. Though I knew this poem was not my best, not extravagant, not the perfect representation of the routine I strive for or the impact he has on my day, I gave it to him without budging.

His eyes scanned each and every word, my squiggly handwriting not making anything easier. Taking a pause before each stanza and he let his eyes wander the last stanza before finally looking up. I don’t know why, but those eyes held so much comfort, speaking volumes. Languages I’d never know, words which I wouldn’t be able to spell could never compare to the love I can see pooling up in him. A little smile slipped from his pink lips, which I couldn’t help but copy. “I’ll never understand how you write so well.” Though you know your little poems could never compare to the secret poet he is, you hummed, “I think you’re the one to be credited here. The person without whom my day is null. For whom my heart beats daily and whose company I look forward to every day.”

The old Kenma would have been a blushing mess. He would have probably forgotten how to speak and would definitely not have taken your ink-stained hands in his right now. But this Kenma is not the same. The past five years have shaped him and you into the people you are today. This Kenma has seen you write your poems and collect the ones as old as 10 years ago. This Kenma has grown out of his shell, accepted the fact that he is so much more than the brain of Nekoma, found his worth, and, most importantly, a partner to love who loves him just as much if not more.

So this Kenma took your right hand, bringing it to his lips and holding it tight. He gently rubbed at the little cut you got years ago, the bump on your finger you were always insecure about because it was a callus from holding a pen for more than 15 years. “I love you,” he said, as if a statement he earnestly believes in, the way children promise you something but you know this is much more than that. Much more than three simple words. It was a promise, a promise he keeps every day. Loving you and always loving you. So you repeated them back with a drunk smile, sleep clouding your vision as you tried to keep your eyes wide open; wishing this moment could last forever.

[zerobaselove]

cuddling with zb1 ♡

pairing: zb1 x reader

genre: fluff

warning: none! lowercase intended, not proofread

notes: i have nothing to say other than these are so cute im giggling n kicking my feet

members under the cut!

jiwoong ;

"do you really need to be attached to me for the whole movie?" you asked, chuckling at the way your boyfriend, jiwoong, had entangled your limbs together while getting comfortable for your weekly movie night. he only smiled, pulling a blanket over your bodies as he pressed play on the movie you had decided on.

"i like to be comfy, is that a crime y/n?" he teased, the opening credits acting as background noise for his whining. "it is when you fall asleep in the first half of the movie every time." you pouted, contrasting the way you grabbed his hand to throw over your stomach. he let out a huff at the accusation. "i do not!"

fast forward 20 minutes and your boyfriend was out cold, head resting on your shoulder as he let out quiet, even breaths. eventually the ending credits had started rolling and you reached for the remote to turn the tv off, when you felt jiwoong stir awake next to you. a yawn escaped his lips as he noticed the credits scrolling past, "that movie was really good." he smiled, rubbing his eyes.

"jiwoong, you fell asleep like 20 minutes in." the embarrassment came over his face almost immediately, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. "well the one playing on the back of my eyelids was fantastic."

zhang hao ;

"your hair smells nice," zhang hao mumbled, tightening his grasp on your waist, pulling your back closer to his chest. you chuckled at the random compliment, "thank you love," your hand came to rest on top of his on your waist, enjoying the warmth radiating off of his body.

you could tell he was getting sleepy, his grip relaxing and his breathing slowing, but that didn't stop him from letting his thoughts flow past his lips. "you're perfect, in every way, i don't think you hear that enough." you were thankful he couldn't see the blush rising to your face, because you were sure by now you were a deep shade of red. he complimented you all the time, but he especially liked to when he was sleepy and pressed against you. "you're too nice to me hao."

"i'm serious," his words slurring the longer he stayed awake, "you are so amazing and i am so proud of you," his words were dragging out longer and longer as he went on, but that didn't stop him. "never forget that." you squeezed his hand, "i won't love, and the same goes for you.

he hummed in contentment, satisfied with your acceptance as he let the sleepiness take over his body, unbeknownst to you. "i love you hao." you mumbled, getting radio silence from the boy. he fell asleep. taking it as a sign to drift off yourself, knowing you were in his arms made it that much easier.

hanbin ;

"stop it~" hanbin whined in between in between fits of laughter, "it tickles." you had your boyfriend pinned under your arm as you peppered kisses over his burning cheeks, loving the sound of his laughter too much to stop. and when he was as pretty and cute as he was, how could you not shower him with affection? only settling down when your arm was getting sore from holding all your weight, collapsing into his side.

you found yourself in the crook of his neck, lips merely inches from his neck with your arms caging him in. these times were your favorites, just getting to be close and affectionate with the boy you wish to never be apart from. at some point hanbin had started mumbling nonsense while you pressed light kisses to the exposed skin on his neck, giving mumbled responses every now and then against his skin.

"sounds like you had a busy day," you whispered, doodling imaginary shapes on his stomach as you listened to him ramble, getting a hum in response before he rested his head on top of yours. "this makes it all worth it though," he giggled, cheeks still flushed from earlier, his ears matching with a similar shade of red.

you couldn't stop the smile from appearing on your face at your boyfriend's cute actions, "glad to be of help."

matthew ;

"morning sleepyhead," you ruffled your freshly awoken boyfriend's hair, smiling at his half asleep state, getting a groan in return as he pulled you closer to his chest; your head resting on him while his arm was wrapped around you, starting to play with your hair.

since meeting matthew, you had become somewhat of a morning person, and this was why; loving the way it felt to be completely engulfed in his scent and presence, his sleepy morning rambles and the way you could hear his heart beating in his chest. it was perfect, he was perfect.

"how'd you sleep darling?" he finally had awoken enough to form words, pressing a light kiss to your temple. "not too bad," you answered simply, getting a similar reply from the boy when you returned the question. "we should get up shouldn't we?" he asked, already knowing the answer but not quite ready to face it.

"probably," a sigh escaped your mouth as you nuzzled into matthew's chest, too comfortable and warm to think about the cold world outside of your blankets. "but it can wait."

taerae ;

after a long day, you and your boyfriend taerae had found yourselves finally winding down for the evening, resting on the couch with some tv show that you both found mildly entertaining playing quietly on the tv; but you weren't focused on that, more so enjoying the melody your boyfriend was humming.

it seemed every day was a new song with him, whether an original melody he didn't want to forget or a popular tune that frequented his playlists, he always had something playing in his head. with your head nuzzled in his neck you could occasionally feel the vibrations against your skin which was surprisingly relaxing, and exactly what you needed at the end of the day.

"what song it that?" you questioned, humming the tune back to yourself, "it doesn't sound familiar." you trailed off, trying to flip through every song you knew he loved lately. he smiled wide, not realizing how much attention you had been paying to him, "it's something i've been working on at the studio," he smiled, "i could sing you a bit, if you'd like."

listening to taerae sing was one of your favorite activities, his sweet voice made you feel at home in some sense, and it always put you in a good mood, so who were you to pass up the offer. "please do."

ricky ;

for most, moments in silence are awkward, some even opting to use the word suffocating, but that was never the case with you and your boyfriend ricky. you loved moments like now, the sun rising in the sky as he had his hand firmly on your waist. no words spoken, just enjoying each other's presence.

every once in a while ricky would drag his finger along your exposed skin, sometimes tracing shapes that you liked to try and guess; most of the time it was little hearts, which made you blush like no other, but you'd never tell him you knew. that was your little secret.

it wasn't often that you two showed affection out in public, not really a fan of pda and you were sure your friends weren't either, so you really cherished these moments, getting to be affectionate and vulnerable with him behind closed doors.

"hi," he finally broke the silence with a simply greeting, leaving a smile to appear on your face as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, smiling into the kiss. "good morning ricky."

gyuvin ;

something that everyone noticed about your boyfriend on first glance was how tall he was, and sure, that was great, but they've never had to deal with his long limbs with nowhere to fit them. this morning was like most, gyuvin laying on his stomach, an arm and a leg lazily thrown over your much smaller frame, rendering you trapped.

you couldn't complain much, you loved having him there and loved feeling his presence, you didn't even get annoyed with his incessant kisses most of the time. but at some point you had to get up, against your boyfriend's wishes, of course.

"gyu, we can't lay in bed forever." your comment earned a pout and a sigh from him, and you could already sense the whining tone about to lace his next words. "but why not~" he dragged out, hoping it would convince you, "i think the bed would get very lonely without us."

the laugh that erupted from your chest was louder than you thought, your hand coming to cover your mouth only to be stopped by gyuvin's arm across your chest. "five more minutes." you sighed, knowing you weren't going to win this fight anytime soon, "five more minutes."

gunwook ;

"i'm so lucky to have you," gunwook giggled, throwing his arm lazily over your waist as you laid face to face in bed. the boy always got very talkative in these times, rambling on and on praising you and showering you with affection; he had always been one to show his love with words, and you couldn't help but smile every time.

"i could say the same wookie," your thought interrupted by a yawn escaping your lips as you brought your hand up to move a few stray hairs out of his face, watching the way he leaned into your touch. you were fighting to keep your eyes open by this point, but gunwook was perfectly content admiring you in your sleepy state, much preferring your pretty face to the back of his eyelids.

his hand started rubbing your side lightly, helping you drift off further, "get some sleep y/n." he smiled, knowing you could use the rest as another yawn came from your mouth. "you should sleep too gunwook," your eyes were long shut now, simply feeling around for your boyfriend.

you couldn't see the smile that plastered his face, but it was one of the biggest, "don't worry about me, goodnight pretty."

yujin ;

"i'm so tired," you whined, throwing your bag to the floor as you walked into your boyfriend yujin's bedroom, getting a smile and head tilt as he ushered you over. "we could always take a nap," he smiled, moving over for you to sit next to him. "we don't have to go out with gyuvin hyung for another few hours."

you pondered the idea for a moment, weighing the pros and cons even though you knew you would cave in for the idea regardless, "i think that's one of your best ideas yet." you moved down on the bed to get more comfortable, yujin following suit. "should we set an alarm?" you asked, turning to face the boy.

"we have hours, we'll be fine." he said matter-of-factly, smiling as his hand dragged down your arm, stopping at your hand as he linked pinkies with you. before you knew it you had fallen asleep and were subsequently waking up to the incessant ringing of yujin's phone, the time displaying 8:09pm, an hour after you were meant to meet gyuvin, who had left 12 missed called.

"yujin, wake up," you shook the boy awake, getting a groggy unintelligible response from the boy before you filled him in, simply getting a shrug. "i guess we were really tired, huh?" a small laugh left his lips, causing you to giggle at the incident. "it was well-deserved rest."

[omaano]

SW Hades AU May Status Update

I wanted to make a dedicated post about what I’m currently working on for the Star Wars meets Hades AU that looks more consistent than just sharing bits and pieces whenever I’m tagged in a Last Line Challenge. Because what else do I have but the poly sketch requests and this AU for my weekends? (If nothing else I know that the Hades AU has got me XD)

Other updates: June - July - August

For now Obi-Wan and Maul are stuck at the same stage: they are both lined, have their base colours down as well as the two adjustment layers of coloured lighting.

I suspect if I were ever to get through the agonozing few hours of shading Obi-wan’s face it would be mostly smooth sailing from there. The problem is that there are at least 2 - if not 3 - separate stages where the shaded face looks like I have no idea what I’m doing, and you need to get through the whole thing before it really comes together 😅 on the other hand Hades 2 has a lot of the directional shading I might need for his character art so that might help to get me there.

It also needs to be said that Obi-Wan comes with the extra disadvantage that is the entire background behind him. I’m really hyped to line it finally, it is quite a challenge, but at the same time I’m slowly coming to the realization that I have no idea how I will colour it. Hades backgrounds are so so pretty and full of details and gorgeous colours, and while I’m not delusional enough to think I could match that on first try… I still wish I could, you know? At the same time I will have to erase or recolour a lot of my lines, which will hurt quite a bit, I imagine. I’m so bad at killing my darlings 😅 also I hate laying down flat colours. I just find it very difficult to immerse myself in that process, while lining and shading can have their flow.

I had covered up so many lines and details in Maul’s spider parts it’s a miracle I didn’t cry XD However, tips on grouping my shadows and allowing the shape to speak for itself and the details in them are very helpful and on point.

Worrying over writing dialogue for them is also not as far down my to-do list as I wish it were. I have a good enough idea for a quip for Obi-wan, but Maul? He’d need a whole melodramatic rant of his own XD

Aphra has gotten some new lines and I had fixed the satchel I had forgotten the last time I shared the rough sketch for her, thanks to the new character art for Hades 2! Seeing Odysseus and Hermès’s updated looks were great helps here, so I might as well move on to lining her, and finally adding another female character to the roster on top of Ahsoka!

And then there is the biggest update on these little guys below! I will need to clean up the ones I had drawn for Cobb and Boba (and Din) well over a year ago, but with these my version of chtonic companions are done, and thanks to @lesquatrechevrons I have a full list of keepsakes for each character as well. I’m not very good at drawing these little tchotchkes (I say with Rex’s blaster right there LOL) but I hadn’t been very good at lineart or cell shading when I started this project either, so through forced practice I’m determined to change that :D

(It’s not a screwdriver under Boga, it’s one of Cody’s antennas. “It will grow back, don’t worry,” he says as he snaps it off his pauldron and hands it over to Din. Rex backs him up on that one without question. They can't lie for shit but trolling the shiny is their thing.)

Additional fun fact: the reason why I’d picked up the chtonic companions concepts was because I’d been poking at minor details in the background behind Maul (aside from the Chaos doors), and I started adding credits and recoloured nectar to the corner (before I realized that they wouldn’t be visible once the character interaction comes up oops), and I tried to figure out to whose keepsakes Maul would react favorably. I also mixed up companion dolls and keepsakes, so that’s why the Ahsoka doll came to being (I also forgot that that one belongs to Rex, and not Ahsoka herself but uh… they are close enough that they should count by proxy anyway. It’s not Obi-wan’s cup of tea and that should be enough!). Also bless @mapleowl18 for suggesting Lil Soka as companion for Rex ❤️

So this is the current state of this AU project right now. I have my lists and notes, a few scribbled pose ideas in my sketchbook for Sabine (she might be next, unless Bo and her Nite Owls make a comeback), Satine and Omega (with Batcher), as well as some angry scribbles and question marks for Quinlan (who has apparently made his way back into this AU even though he didn’t get a little icon of his own originally orz), and Obi-wan The Second that would stand with Cody post reunion, but I cannot make that one work for now 😅

[love-toxin]

yes pls tell me all ur thoughts on blade, luocha, gepard, jingyuan and kafka 😳 the eng va and trailers for jingyuan and kafka in particular got me acting up—just smthing about jingyuan’s lil smirk and laid bk countenance and how i know he can fuck the daylights out of anyone effortlessly—and kafka? yes ma’am anything for u pls slam ur foot against the wall behind me 🙏🏻

god bless im literally in love w/ all of them anon. would give my left nut for blade, luocha or jing yuan, gepard and kafka carry my team so hard. also bc i want them to step on my face.

also i wanna be toxic rn so under the cut ⬇️⬇️

blade -> prrrrrrrrr. big daddy. idk why but he gives me discord kitten daddy dom vibes. he manspreads. he gets pussy. he probably doesn't shower as often as he should. he's unapologetically a rude bitch. he absolutely girlbosses you into being his baby, he pulls out the "i feel nothing but you give me a taste of life" and keeps you so close you're basically part of him. handsy and off-putting in public for passersby but you can't get his hands off you, it's a losing battle babe. nd he's nasty freaky slimy and rubs his cock against you as a sign he wants to go home or just find someplace quiet. he doesn't like fucking you out in the open but he'll do it if the need arises--like if you "forget" that your body & soul belongs to him and need a harsh reminder. you're just his delicate little kitty after all, so if anyone's gonna break you it should be someone you love unconditionally. right?

kafka -> gatekeep. gaslight. girldaddy. beats you up and makes you say thank you. you're her pet so get used to it, but she'll feed you once in a while so you should be glad, puppy. she's the mean tall girlfriend who babies you and then spits in your mouth for a treat. her & blade treat you like a pet and if she's feeling extra mean she strips you down and makes you kneel between them with nothing to cover yourself. if you're good and give them a lil show they'll let you go early, they promise (lie). humping kafka's pillow to get your scent all over it becomes a nightly ritual to help her sleep, no it is non-negotiable, it is in your spouses' contract that she signed with your hand while you slept. it also states that your face may be used in any and all leisure activities at her discretion--mainly for her to push your head between her legs and lazily give you an order as she sifts through documents. you might be her pet, but that doesn't mean she doesn't love you. at least as far as you can tell.

luocha -> ngl idk that much about him yet but he's immediately unhinged bf-shaped. stupid and drunk on thoughts of you & gives you his credit card details on the first date. he's gross and wants to bite your thighs. begging to be drowned in pussy/choked with cock. you're so pretty and he's so dirty by comparison. he can't blame you for not wanting his gross dick anywhere near you, guess all he can do is eat you out <33 oh noooooo! what a tragedy! sike. he loves that shit. he's got meds to make you squirt too. ik he's not that kinda healer but don't tell me unhinged luocha wouldn't have a ball drugging you both up and taking you for a ride. he wouldn't even know his name once the high dies down, just the feeling of your lips leaving stray kisses all down his face as you try to stay awake.

jing yuan -> daddy 2.0. a dilf with no kids. 1000% goes into husband mode the second you're within reach. chill & soft & uwu until everyone's outta the office, then he becomes a menace to society and your underwear. he cums in them before you leave for the day so you don't forget him <3 you can have a cheeky one in your mouth on his lunch break if you're good. ♀️ he beats your pussy up cock-first for hurting his bbg with your period. he still doesn't get enough of you in the day so he creeps on you at night, rubs one out on your thighs while you sleep and flips over to go right back to snoring afterwards. you can never have too much cum on you--that's his wisdom and as your superior general you should probably believe it, no? don't worry, he can fuck with your job and your life and your friends and your money and your heart until you find it within yourself to agree.

gepard -> dummy boy goody-two-shoes. he likes fuckin in the uniform and being called "captain" i am not taking criticism at this time. dumb little captured stellaron hunter & horny silvermane captain roleplay. moans in your ear during sex. he moans like a girl and he hates it but it's hot and he cums 10x faster if you tell him just how hot it is. he's so big & tall he just makes you feel like a little bunch of grapes when he picks you up, nd he's self-conscious about how weird it is that he likes seeing your face scrunch up in pain when he eases you on his cock but it's just too big. the gravity makes it all feel too much when he sits you on his lap like that but you just wiggle around on it rather than get off, and he's a fiend for it. also consider clean, prim, missionary-lover gepard falling in love with rimming you & feeling like a dirty mutt for enjoying it so much & begging you for it when he's in need. asking him to take a shower with you turns into code for "let's do anal against the tile please" real quick.

[thescarletnargacuga]

TADC ADVENTURE AU ONESHOT

Adventure AU credit: @waffle-gal

A/N: Nothing I have written is confirmed Canon! This was just for funsies!

WARNING: ptsd, some agst/comfort, suggestive at the end

"It's got to be around here somewhere." Caine squinted at the browned paper map in his hands. He twisted it sideways, thinking maybe he would understand the landmarks better at a different angle. It didn't help.

"You've been saying that for the last three hours." Pomni cleared the thick forest brush with a solid swipe of her machete. "Are you sure we're not lost? Again?"

"No, no I'm certain of our heading this time. We just need to uh...continue north. Yes. Due north. The Mystic Grove is suppose to have unusual flora so we'll know it when we see it." Caine held the map upside down, then upright again. "Hey, Bubble." He whispered to his floating companion trailing along beside him. He eyed Pomni, hoping she wouldn't overhear him while she cleared the path. "The N is suppose to face UP, right?"

"Mmmm hmm mm m hmmm" Bubble mumbled. They were carrying Caine's walking stick in their mouth.

"Oop, sorry." Caine took the walking stick back.

"The N looks right both ways up, boss." Bubble said.

"Oh dear..." He glanced at Pomni, fighting a stubborn tree branch. He folded the map and put it in his pocket. It wasn't of any use in his hands. They may as well keep going forward, whatever direction they were really heading in, and find a place to camp soon. The day cycle was starting to wane. "She's going to kill me." Caine sighed, defeated.

Pomni confidently marched onward. When they finally found thinner landscape, she put her machete away and wiped her brow. "Well, I don't recognize any of these trees, so that's something." She took in her surroundings. The vast Wandering Woodlands was lush and heavy with underbrush. It was very easy to get turned around, even with a good sense of direction. A cacophony of woodland creatures and birds made their ambient presence known. Through the gaps in the forest canopy, she could see the towering cliffs of Paradise Outlook. "Hey, isn't there a waterfall from the Outlook that goes down into the Grove? Maybe there's a river we can cross somewhere?" She finally turned to look at Caine. "What's wrong?"

He hung his head shamefully, his hands in his pockets. "I-" A sudden unease coursed through his body. Like static disturbing the air around him, worming its way into his head. His eyes went wide with panic. "Run, Pomni!" He grabbed her hand and charged ahead blindly.

"What is it!? What's wrong!?" Low hanging branches slapped her face as she tried to keep up.

No time to answer. He could feel the disturbance gaining on them. He frantically searched for a place to hide. A large tree ahead was growing out of a boulder, splitting it open. It looked just large enough to cram themselves into. He pulled Pomni into the tight crevice and shoved Bubble to the side, whose shape warped to fit.

"Caine! What-!" She was silence by his hand covering her mouth.

Caine held her close and tried to make both of them fit in the impossibly small space. He didn't say a word. The disturbance was too close.

The trees outside their little hiding spot distorted and glitched. Textures changed rapidly at random. Then they saw it. A massive pixelated mass of corrupted data glided across the ground right in front of them, not making a sound. At least, not to Pomni. Caine could hear it. Feel it. The static vibrating his very being.

Pomni gasped upon seeing the virus, causing it to stop in its path. Her heart raced with panic. She didn't want to know what would happen if it got a hold of Caine a second time. She looked apologetically at Caine, but he wasn't looking at her. He was staring wide eyed into nothing, pure fear in his eyes.

After an agonizingly tense moment, the virus lost interest in its surroundings and moved on. Slowly, the distortions ceased. Pomni carefully removed Caine's hand from her face. "Caine..? Are you okay?"

He was unresponsive, clutching to her like she were his only lifeline in the raging storm of static that had overwhelmed his mind.

Pomni spoke gently in a whisper. "It's gone, Caine. We're safe." She put her hand on the side of his lower jaw. "That thing will never harm you again, I promise."

He finally looked at her and took a shakey breath. "I h-hate that thing. Every time it comes near...I can feel myself being torn from my powers...over and over. It hurts, Pomni." Tears glistened his eyes.

"Caine..." She said his name sympathetically and hugged him. She could feel him trembling, but he calmed with every deep breath. Pomni held him for as long as he needed. A comfortable silence fell between them as the forest came alive with natural sound again after the virus was long gone. Pomni smiled. It was a nice moment, having him in her arms like this.

Caine could finally think clearly again. He had Pomni. That was wonderful. He was holding her. Even more wonderful. They were pressed together in a very private and intimate space. WONDER-wait. He went from feeling great to embarrassed in less than a second. "We should get moving! We're losing daylight!" He tried to get out but they were jammed in tight.

Pomni winced as her side scraped against the boulder. "Ow! Caine! Not so fast! We need to- ow! Get out slow-OW! STOP WIGGLING SO MUCH!"

Caine froze and pressed himself against his side of the crevice as much as possible, but Pomni's entire body was still firmly against him. He felt every move she made, no matter how subtle. He went back and forth in his own head between cursing himself and enjoying the contact. He slammed his mouth shut and waited for the sweet torture to end.

Pomni sighed with relief when she was free of the claustrophobic space. She took a look around. The trees had strange purple moss growing on them facing north. The farther ahead she looked, the green forest turned purple with unique plants and giant fungi. "Hey! I think we found it!" She looked back in time to see Caine fall out of the crevice.

"Really? I mean- Of course! See? I knew we were going the right way." He coughed awkwardly and brushed himself off. "Bubble! Come on, we're moving."

Bubble squeezed out of the hole, regaining their perfect spherical shape. "Right behind you, boss."

The Mystic Grove was everything it was taled to be and more. The tree canopy was so thick, it draped the forest floor in heavy shadow. Fungi colored the base of the trees. Some of the mushrooms were so large, they themselves were the size of trees. The underside of the caps radiated a gentle bioluminescent glow. Glowing spores drifted through the air like lazy fireflies. Runic symbols were carved into various rocks and trees.

"Oh my god..." Pomni said in hushed awe. "This place is amazing."

"I agree!" Caine said excitedly. "This looks like the perfect place to make camp! It's so serene!"

Pomni traced a rune etched into a tree root with her finger. "I don't know, Caine. It looks like-"

"Someone lives here?" A high pitched accented voice came from her right.

Pomni jumped away from the voice and reached for her machete.

"I wouldn't do that if I were ye." A small gold skinned humanoid with pointed ears in simple leather armor stepped forward. "Ye're surrounded. Ye'll drop before you even have the chance to unsheathe yur weapon, lass." Multiple creatures of similar size and color appeared from their hiding spots, aiming arrows and spears at the intruders.

Pomni immediately put her hands up. Caine did so too, but tried to put as much of himself between Pomni and the weapons. Bubble just frog blinked.

"We mean no harm." Pomni spoke first. "We're looking for a place to rest and resupply. We're adventurers. We're just passing through."

"What she said." Caine nodded.

"Adventurers? Why didn't ye say so!" The leader clapped his hands twice and the others lowered their weapons. "Why didn't ye use the gate? That's where everyone else comes into the Grove."

"There's a GATE?" Pomni glared at Caine who shrunk away from her gaze.

"Aye, ye're coming in through the cliff side path. Only our hunters use it."

"Sorry about that. We got a bit LOST." Pomni seethed, Caine flinched.

"No worries, lass. You and yur boyfriend are welcome-"

"Woah! he's not-"

"I'm not her-"

The whole congregation of fae laughed. The leader gave them a look. "Ye're not?" His eyes went from Pomni to Caine and back, then shrugged. "I suppose I don't blame ye. He seems like a bit of a fixer upper anyway."

"Hey!" Caine stomped his foot and flushed with embarrassment.

Pomni suppressed a grin. "You have no idea."

"So, as I was sayin, you and yur companion are welcome to stay in the village, as long as ye pay the toll."

Pomni paled a little. They didn't have a lot of gold on them. "What's the toll?"

"A performance at the Grove Theatre, of course. We value not coin, but stories. Tell and enact an amazing story and ye'll earn a night's stay. If ye wish to stay longer, the more stories ye must tell."

Pomni and Caine looked at each other. They'd been through a lot together. They had plenty of stories to tell. Pomni nodded to the group leader. "Well, You're in luck! We just so happen to be professional performers."

"Are ye, lass? Well, then I look forward to seeing you perform! Maybe the Royal will join with word of professionals." He whispered into his closed fist, and when he opened it, sparkly pink mist flew off ahead.

The group of fae led them down a narrow winding path through the thickest part of the Grove. Pomni and Caine, being much larger, had to squeeze in between close trees and stones. Pomni was incredibly sick of small spaces at this point.

They came to a clearing in the center of the Grove. A stream wound itself around the roots of an enormous, majestic tree. It towered over every other tree they'd ever seen in the expansion. The tree had cottages and bridges all over its branches, with windows dotting the trunk. Colorful fairy lights lit the path to a small bridge over the stream and into a gap in the base of the tree that was the village entrance.

The inside of the tree was just as breathtaking. Warm light from gold fungus lit the interior. Staircases spiraled along the inside of the trunk, leading to businesses and homes. On the ground floor, taking up most of the space, was a grand amphitheater.

Residents of the tree watched their tall visitors curiously. Many started coming down the stairs to gather around in front of the theater. This included one particular fae in androgynous royal attire. They clapped excitedly. "Welcome travelers, to Eldermoor Village of Mystic Grove! It's been so long since we've had visitors, this is most exciting!" They had literal sparkles in their eyes. "I am Royal Lylien, supreme leader of the GoldMoors."

Pomni bowed to show respect, and Caine mimicked her. "Thank you for greeting us in person, your majesty." Pomni said, a bit nervous.

"Yeah! This is a cool tree you have here!" Caine blurted out.

Lylien giggled. "Why, thank you. The Eldermoor has protected my people for generations. It's roots are older than time and it's bark is stronger than any magic." The crowd nodded reverently. "Now, before I welcome you further, there is business at hand."

"Yes, the ones that brought us here said their was a toll. You want us to tell a story?" Pomni said.

"You'll do more than just TELL a story. You will perform it!" With a wave of the Royal's hand, the theater came to life. Residents filed into the rows of seats until it was standing room only.

"Oh! You- you mean right now?" Pomni gulped.

"Of course, professionals such as yourself should have no trouble. Trust the stage." The Royal said with a smile. "The toll must be paid before further business can be discussed, as is our custom. Head backstage. You're on shortly." They walked away towards an ornate chair on a private balcony.

"Oh no..." Pomni's stomach flipped with a sudden rush of nerves. Not even time to practice? You had to have a full story ready to go off the cuff?

Caine was beaming. "Come on, Pomni! We have to get ready to perform! The audience is waiting!" He pulled her by the arm to the stage were a young Goldmoor showed them were to get ready. "Alright." Caine clasped his hands together. "What do we want to tell them? Maybe the one about the haunted mines in the Badlands Abyss! Or maybe escaping the collapsing temple on Paradise Outlook! OH! Or the time you fought the raging troll in the dark part of the Woodlands!" He could hardly contain his excitement.

"All of those sound good, but this is the story that's supposed to grant us access to the village. They won't let us stay here if it's not impressive enough." Pomni shrugged. She really wasn't sure what metric of storytelling these these people held, but she wanted to leave an impression. "What about...the beginning?"

"Could you elaborate?"

"The beginning of all of this. What sent us on our quest to begin with. That's an epic tale unto itself."

Caine fiddled with his fingers. "You're right. The tragedy of a fallen leader. It's downright Shakespearean."

"You don't seem thrilled."

"I..." He had to swallow his pride. "To relive the consequences of my own hubris... I need something from you, Pomni."

"Name it."

He held out his hand to her. "Be the heroine of my story."

Pomni smiled warmly and took his hand. "Why do you think I'm here? To look pretty?" She joked.

"You always look pretty, no matter the circumstance, but since you're here..." He teased.

She blushed lightly. "You drive a hard bargain..."

He took her other hand. "Only because I know you can do it, Pomni. You're smart, resourceful, and brave, on top of being beautiful. You are the perfect woman for the job."

Her blush darkened. He was staring so fervently into her eyes. "This... is still about the performance, right?"

He choked on his words. Right. The performance. He forgot. "Uh-"

"One minute call! You're on in one minute!" A Goldmoor called from another part of the backstage area.

Caine and Pomni startled from the interruption, letting go of each other's hands. Caine grabbed his walking stick from the zoned out bubble behind him. "Well, it looks like we're on. What do you say? Are you ready to wing the absolute pants off of this performance?"

Pomni smiled. "With you? Absolutely."

The house lights dimmed and a hush fell over the audience. A spotlight came on over center stage in front of the closed curtain. Pomni stepped out and the crowd applauded.

"Today we tell a tale so grand. A once great Ringmaster of an ever amazing circus fallen from grace by his own hand. Now walking among us as a god become man. But as he sees life from perspective anew, perhaps there is more to this digital existence than he thought he knew." Pomni bowed and the curtains opened behind her.

The stage came alive on its own, building itself to her words. A background that resembled the circus came to be. Neither one of them knew this would happen, but they had no choice but to roll with it. They could be in awe later.

Caine entered stage left. "I am Caine, Ringmaster of the Amazing Circus! With a snap of my fingers reality itself bends to my will!" He snapped his fingers, and for a moment, it was like he had his powers back. A prop on stage transfigured into a different object. The audience ooo'ed. Caine could work with this. He confidently stepped up as if to fly, but fell on his face. The audience laughed.

Pomni covered her mouth, not just from shock, but to cover up her smile. "Perhaps the Ringmaster forgot to speak all of his amazing power into existence! Like the fact that he could fly!"

Caine quickly got up. "That's right!" Because Pomni spoke it into existence for him, he could now fly. For the first time in what felt like forever, he lifted off the ground effortlessly. It was so good to feel weightless again. He did a few aerial tricks for the audience and earned more applause.

Pomni let him have his moment. People were cheering for him and he was practically radiant with happiness. She sighed with a smile as she gazed at him and almost missed her cue when Caine was done showing off. "But! It was not to last!" She announced. "For an evil was brewing!" The stage darkened. The background grew sinister. "A shapeless monster with it's very existence having devastating effects on the world around it, made itself known!" With her words, the virus appeared. Or rather, what the stage formed from Pomni's words. The audience screamed in horror. "The evil one threatened the circus and all who lived there! But Caine dismissed the threats!"

Caine cleared his voice. "None could challenge me! I am the Master of this realm! I will purge this horrid crime against nature with a snap of my fingers!" He snapped.

"...But nothing happened." Pomni continued. "The beast was beyond his influence, for it wasn't part of the realm he so covetously controlled. The beast attacked."

The virus stand-in lunged at Caine. He flew out of the way and tried snapping again. "I command you to stop! All heed the word of Caine!" The beast roared in response. The audience was on the edge of their seats.

Pomni braced herself as she watched what she knew was coming next. " The terrible beast tore power from his soul, cleaving the spirit and breaking the mind. Thusly, Caine fell to earth."

The beast engulfed Caine. He screamed in agony as the viral code pierced him like a thousand needles. He fell to the stage with an unceremonious thud. The beast loomed like an angry stormcloud over him. Caine's power enriching it to impossible strength. The audience gasped and screamed.

Pomni rushed on stage and helped Caine stand, holding his arm over her shoulders. "With his power, the beast was truly unstoppable. The only choice was to flee." She helped him sit on a log that appeared as the stage changed scenes. The beast vanished. "Caine and his companions travel the land, searching far and wide for the means to defeat the great beast. From the Badlands to the Outlook, there is no rock they won't look under for answers."

Caine stood and rolled his shoulders, shaking off the fall. "And in those travels..." He takes Pomni's hands and interlaces their fingers. "Caine finds something worth more than power and control. He finds true companionship. Feelings of connection and desire he didn't know he was capable of until the blindfold of absolute power was removed." The audience aww'ed.

Pomni stuttered a little but went a long with him. "And, for the first time, Caine realized he didn't need his power to be great. He already was." The audience aww'ed even more.

Caine's eyes softened as he gazed at Pomni lovingly. "The heroine of our tale didn't slay the monster or steal back the power...no, she did something far greater. She showed him what real love was." He pulled Pomni in and dipped her romantically. They leaned in close and stage kissed. The audience lost their minds. They were on their feet, cheering and applauding.

Caine pulled Pomni back up and they bowed. They looked up to the Royal's private balcony and bowed to them again. The Royal has tears in there eyes and were on their feet as well. They conjured a flower and threw it at the stage. The crowd followed suit and the stage was covered in flowers.

Caine picked up a pink and purple flower and presented it to Pomni. She held it to her chest as they did a final bow and then exited stage left, hand in hand.

"THAT WAS INCREDIBLE! YOU WERE AMAZING OUT THERE!!" Caine jumped for joy.

"So were you! Did you see what the stage was doing!? And that scream was gutwrenching! It didn't really hurt you, did it?" Pomni checked him for puncture wounds

"Nope! Didn't feel a thing! It was all an act. But I dug down deep for that one. I really needed it. Felt cathartic." He took a deep breath. "So, shall we go talk to the Royal?"

They came out to even more applause. The audience had barely thinned and swarmed them when they came out from backstage with praise and questions about the story. The crowd only parted when the Royal and their guards made their way to Caine and Pomni.

"Very, VERY well done. What an amazing display of talent from our new friends. In fact, that story was so impactful that you are welcome here at my behest for as long as I am supreme ruler."

"Wow! Thank you very much." Caine said.

"Members of my guard with show you to your accommodations. Do enjoy your stay, friends of Eldermoor." The Royal nodded their head and walked away with their personal guards.

The crowd dispersed more but many still wanted to gawk at the newcomers. A town guard signaled for Caine and Pomni to follow him and he led them up the endless stairs towards the canopy.

By the time they reached the top, Pomni and Caine were out of breath and crawling up the last few steps. The guard wasn't winded in the slightest. He knocked and the door to a residence opened on its own. "Here. This place is yours by order of the Royal." He walked away without further explainion.

Caine and Pomni were still huffing and puffing from the climb. "Holy [%$!#] that was a lot of stairs." Pomni gasped. Her legs felt like noodles.

"I have never missed my ability to fly more in my life. Do you think I could negotiate to at least get that back?" Caine half joked as he followed Pomni inside the residence.

The place was cozy. Large enough for them to stand up straight inside and move around without constantly tripping over things. There was one problem. There was only one bedroom.

"Oh, dear. I guess they bought our love speech a little too much." Caine smiled to himself.

Pomni shrugged. "I can take the couch."

"Wha- absolutely not! Call me an old-fashioned A.I, but I won't let you be the one who takes the couch. You deserve to have that bed all to yourself." He crossed his arms.

"Ha! As if you could stop me."

They locked eyes in a playful glare. She took off and dove for the couch. He caught her from behind and lifted her off her feet.

"Ah! No! Lemme go! That couch is mine!" She smiled.

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" He couldn't hide the laugh in his words.

He took her back into the bedroom and tossed her on the bed. "And stay there!"

"Make me!" She got up and tried to rush passed him.

He grabbed her again and this time he got on the bed with her and held her down. "Stay!"

"Okay." She smiled mischievously up at him and watched his face slowly realize what he'd done. Just like with the hiding situation earlier that day, it hadn't dawned on him right away the situation he was getting himself into.

"You did this on purpose."

"Nooooo, me? I would never." Her voice was so heavily laced with sarcasm, even he couldn't miss it. "I'm having fun with you, Caine. All this 'will you, won't you' gets tiring. Sometimes, you need a push."

"But, I'm not your- I mean, you've never- we never-"

"Caine....you always seem at war with yourself over me. Let me tell you right now: I care about you. You are special to me. And besides, do you really think I can't hear all the things you say under your breath to yourself?"

He looked away, ashamed of himself. "Right..."

"...you're also still on top of me."

Caine's eyes went wide and he looked down at her. "Sorry!" He jumped off of her and fell to the floor.

Pomni slid off the bed and sat on the floor next to him. "I didn't say you had to stop."

Caine shut his teeth and curled up in a ball.

"Caine...you're being ridiculous. Do you believe me when I tell you I really like you?"

He nodded.

"Then what's the issue?"

"You deserve better." He mumbled.

She scoffed. "Better? What could be better than catching the favor of the ringmaster?"

"...someone human."

She cupped the side of his teeth and made him turn towards her. She tapped gently. "Open up." He cracked his teeth so she could just see his eyes. "Caine, when I started to realize how I felt towards you, I asked myself the same question. How am I falling for an A.I? And you know what I figured out?"

"Hm?" He braced himself for bad news.

"I doesn't matter."

His mouth opened more. "It doesn't?"

"No. In a world where the limit is my own imagination... Why couldn't I fall in love with the most amazing person I've ever met? A.I. or not." She took his hand in both of hers and looked him dead in the eyes. "I love you, Caine."

His pupils dilated and his mouth opened all the way. His eyes searched hers and found only truth. He couldn't help but tear up a little. "You know...I wasn't kidding about what I said during the play. I meant every word. Even if I never get my powers back, I have you. I love you too, Pomni. With every pixel of my being. I love you."

She leaned in and kissed his bottom teeth, it was short and sweet. He gasped and felt where she kissed him.

"What? Afraid I left a mark?" She laughed.

He smirked at her. "No, I'm just surprised you gave me permission so quickly."

"Permission to do what?"

"Return the favor." He scooped her up and threw her on the bed in one surprisingly fast motion. Sometimes she forgot how strong he was, even without his powers. He tackled her on the bed and kissed her. Then he kissed her again. And again. And again.

They didn't get much sleep that night.

[gyllenhaalstories]

LEG LOCK — ELWOOD DALTON 🏆

summary: happy international women’s day! let’s celebrate by getting absolutely wrecked by this this man who was sculpted by the gods.

warnings: i know nothing about the ufc, curse words, smut (the pet name doll is used, degradation, mild nipple play, worship kink, size difference* kink, marking, dacryphilia, blowjob & throat fucking, mild CNC, throatpie, choking, 69, pussy eating, fingering). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 4465

photo credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: *you do not need to be smaller than him, size kink applies to all heights & weights. when road house comes out, let’s all disregard the fact that my portrayal of dalton will most likely be so far off, okay? okay. i want to give a big shoutout to @jakegooglyeyes​ for the ideas, i had to steal them to make this fic as filthy as possible. ❤️ thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

“Come here, doll.” Dalton abandoned the magnificent view of the Vegas Strip he had from this hotel suite to turn his head in your direction. A couple of floors higher than where you were residing for the duration of the event and you would have your heads in the clouds. “I need you to show me how much you missed me.”

You walked from across the room, silk bathrobe wrapped around your body from when Dalton left to prepare for the fight and you relaxed in the tub that sat between the living and the bed rooms. Bath time was cut short, your eyes had been glued to the television screen while you watched the fight that ended incredibly quickly. In a blink of an eye, you got a text from your man indicating he was on his way (or so you assumed with the series of emojis he sent you, including an eggplant followed by droplets of sweat), then you heard knocking at the door.

The rest happened just as quickly, he replaced the hot and foamy water of the bath by cold one in which he dumped bucket after bucket of ice cubes to chill his worked up body. He hopped out of the ice bath and barely covered himself with a matching bathroom. He was still wearing the same compression shorts as from the fight, cup and all. A few glasses of electrolyte drinks, a pain killer as a safety measure and he was ready to go. His shorts were still damp. He was not playing.

You made your way to Dalton and wrapped your arms around his muscular shoulders. You had praised him enough, he could catch a break from all the ego inflation and try to get in touch with reality instead — with your help, of course. “You’re asking for a lot.” You smirked and pulled him in for a kiss. “You weren’t gone for a long time.”

“You’re so silly.” He mirrored your smirk as his tongue brushed over his teeth that had been covered by an official UFC branded mouth guard during the fight. His hands found their usual place at the small of your back. “I’m not asking, baby doll.” He rubbed his hands up and down on your back, surprising you when you felt some kind of pressure against your shoulders that was pushing you down.

You wanted to tell him he was needy, that he could enjoy the rest of his night and drop the bad boy act for an hour or two. You wanted to tell him you were still sore from a few days ago when he fucked you like it would be the last time, that he could wait a little longer. Your head wanted to tell him many things, your body, however, was only saying one thing.

His left hand was resting on top of your head, helping you go lower and lower until you dropped to your knees like the ‘good fucking girl’ you were. He gave you just enough freedom to take your time and leave a trail of kisses that started from his puffy pecs.

You traced the shape of them with your tongue before you gentle wrapped your lips around his small nipples. You flicked your tongue over the sensitive buds, drawing soft whimpers out of him. You gave his other nipple the same treatment and glanced at Dalton quickly, catching him as he was lolling his head back from the feeling of your warm mouth on his cold, hard nipples. You continued to paint his body with open mouthed kisses all the way down the small valley between his hard abs.

His eyes rolled backwards when you reached his Adonis belt — his sweet spot. His grip on your head loosened, you knew you were pushing all the right buttons. He would never get enough of you worshipping him. Whether it was with your words, your hands or your mouth; he soaked it all up and let it spark fireworks through his body. All those kisses and touches only made him even more aroused, pumping blood to his constricted cock.

Your kisses lingered on each side of his waist, making sure to suck just long enough to leave marks that were darker than his tanned skin. You gently licked over the groove of the muscle until you noticed a wet spot on his skin. You kept going until both sides looked bruised, unlike the rest of body. He left the octagon pretty much intact after the victory by knock out.

“I fucking knew it.” You raised your eye brows, looking up to meet Dalton’s darkened blue eyes. “You missed me.” He chuckled, satisfied by how you were treating him. He felt special a lot of the time, especially when cameras and spotlights followed his every movement on the stage while he threw punches at his opponents. However, nothing could compare with the way you made him feel like the king of the world.

From your position, down on the floor, he could absolutely pass as a king. He looked tall, impressive — intimidating. Dalton was towering over you and enjoying himself while he did it. You let your hands explore his toned legs, noticing how some muscles twitched under your touch. You continued to cover his lower abdomen with kisses and hickeys until you, too, got impatient enough to feel the urge to rip the shorts off his body.

Dalton’s arms moved out of the way after he let the bathrobe fall to his feet. He arched his back just enough to push his crotch impossibly closer to your face. He clicked his tongue as some imaginary clock was ticking as well. You needed to hurry up.

You squeezed your thumbs between his hips and the waist band of his shorts. You leaned your head on the hand was now caressing your cheek while you pulled down on the bottoms until he could easily step out of them. You discarded the damp fabric and let him adjust to the freedom. Your eyes widened with excitement — and hunger — as you watched his cock twitch and throb before you.

When you opened your mouth, awfully slow in his opinion, he quickly guided himself to the hole you were presenting. He barely gave you time to stick your tongue out that the tip of his cock was pushing deep in your mouth, a grunt of relief escaped his open mouth. “Been thinking of that mouth of yours all fucking day.”

You gagged around him, hands gripped on the smooth skin of his waxed legs. The trick that said to squeeze your thumb inside your hand had long stopped working for you. Dalton liked it rough — no stupid tricks could save you. You moaned around him and tried to bop your head back and forth to coat his veiny length with spit. You opened your eyes for a split second, meeting with his intense gaze while tears already started to pool and threaten to fall down your face.

“Gonna make yourself look all pretty for me, doll?” He started to thrust his hips, refusing to follow the pace you were setting. He wanted to feel you, all of you. He would not stop until he got what he wanted. His hands met on your head, he was already locking his fingers together.

Your eyes widened with fear and a small scream got stuck in your throat. You pulled away — while you still had time — to take as many deep breaths as he would let you.

“Answer me.” Dalton ordered.

“Yes. So pretty,” you obeyed, panting. “Just how you like it.”

“Just how I love it.” He corrected you with an arched brow. He guided your head to his crotch again. “Make yourself cry on my cock, baby.”

You nodded frantically and opened your mouth, jaw relaxed with your tongue out, already begging to taste more of his precum. Slowly, you took him in. Inch by inch, you adjusted to the size and weight of him against your tongue. You pushed your head as far as you could take it and pulled away. You spit on his cock and tried again and again, building speed and rhythm that made Dalton grunt of pleasure.

Whether you were moaning or whining around his cock, he did not care. He enjoyed the vibrations too much to stop and let you speak. With his hands on your head, he helped you move back and forth despite the strings of saliva that dripped down your chin and despite the tears that streamed down your face. He made you look up at him, and he could have finished right here and there in your mouth as he took in the sight.

It was messy. You looked so messy. Spit and tears had fallen down on your exposed breasts. You, too, were no longer wearing the silky bathrobe and it made him want to cover your whole body with various marks. Hickeys, spit, cum — whatever he could come up with to mark you as his, he would do it. And you would let him. Happily.

“Oh, doll,” Dalton chuckled in between moaning. “How could I not want to ruin you when you look so beautiful for me?” He gripped on your hair a bit, anchoring you down on his cock to keep you in place while he kept going with the dirty talk. “Let me hear your cute noises when you choke on me. Don’t fucking hold back.”

So, you did just that... Not that you had a choice, really. Dalton had taken over control of your strokes. All you could do was take it and let him hear how much you liked it. You reached to touch your neck and felt the size of the bulge his cock was creating in your throat. It hurt so bad. Your throat was hurting from the intense fucking, your eyes were hurting from the relentless crying and your knees were hurting from your position. You did not know what you should focus on.

Dalton figured it out for you as he made you hold his cock in your throat again. You could swear you felt him throb in your mouth, and judging by how he pulled your head away from him, he felt it too. “Jesus fucking Christ.” He laughed, his chest rising up and down from his breathing. “You’re so greedy, baby. You want me to cum already?”

“Yes, yes, please! You sounded so adorable when you begged.

“Nah,” He walked away from you, towards the bed. “You don’t deserve it yet.”

You put your palms on the floor and crawled on all fours, following him.

He fell on the bed, heavily, with a loud groan. The mattress curved under his weight and he waited until you were kneeling by his feet again. He reached his knee up to your chin — the same one he used to knock his opponent out for good — and made your head tilt up to look at him. “You good?”

You nodded and resisted the urge to wipe your face clean. It was uncomfortable. It was degrading.

He adored it. “Use your words.”

“I’m good.” You sounded confident enough to earn gentle taps of the back of his hand against your cheek.

Without losing anymore time, Dalton pushed you back down on his cock. Deeper than before. Deeper than he had done it in a long time.

You coughed and choked and gagged — a symphony of sounds that only got him craving for more. He could not move his hips a lot from this sitting position, so his expert hands did all the work for him.

The more you were fighting back, audibly yet incoherently begging for mercy, the deeper he was fucking your throat.

You could not even open your eyes, all you did was try and grab at anything you could reach to try and hold you back from running away from his cock. Not that you wanted to, it was just reflexes sending alarms to your brain to stop the torture. But it felt too good, but you wanted him too much.

He noticed you managed to slide your hands between his thick thighs and the bed, keeping you in place but also making it so that your head was at the perfect position. More back and forth, more strokes of your head on his sensitive cock and he made you stop moving.

Inside of your mouth, you twirled your tongue around his tip, while also trying to breathe as best as you could, guessing he was getting close and that the end was near. You were working hard to earn his release, to earn yours too so you could extinguish the fire burning inside of your lungs. You could have never guessed what he was about to do.

With impressive balance, Dalton leaned back and lifted his legs. First, he moved each leg on each side of your arms. He kept going, rather slowly, until his legs reached your shoulders. His feet were now hovering your back, heels pressing between your shoulder blades. Dalton crossed his feet together and erased the distance between his thighs — between his thighs and your head.

Soon enough, you felt the muscles of his thighs on each side of your face. Your eyes widened with surprise, with a hint of fear too. He stopped tightening until you were in a solid leg lock you could not escape. Well, you could, but that meant you would lose the privilege of feeling his cock in your mouth and that was much too high of a price to pay. The pressure of your position, locked between his legs and his cock, made you dizzy. That paired with the cruel lack of oxygen, it felt like you were choking without the feeling of his rough hand around your neck.

Dalton moved his feet, pushing his cock so far down your throat that you could not even physically gag around him, all that was left for you was to continue sobbing and to “Take it, take my fucking cock!” He grunt, nose scrunched and lips curled back. “The more you cry, the less I wanna let you go.”

Your eyelids started to feel heavy and your fists let go of the sheets you were strongly holding on to. Your hands travelled to the outside of his thighs were his muscles were bulging with the effort.

“You’re my perfect little doll.” He reminded you of your metaphorical position, just a toy for him to use until he unleashed all of his pleasure inside you. He also reminded you of your literal position, his feet digging against your spine to the point it started to hurt.

You gave three quick taps to his right thigh.

He smiled down at you, eyes and expression darkened with his lust. He bit on his lower lip while the pleasure was building dangerously big in his core.

You tapped him again as you started to squirm inside the fatal leg lock. You gathered all the strength you had to look up at him.

At the moment your eyes met, he shot his load of cum deep in your throat. Dalton came in many ropes of cum that you swallowed instinctively, not that you could do anything about it. He was lodged so deep inside of you that he forced you to take him and his cum until he was finished.

Boy, that first breath of fresh air felt even better than watching your man win fights after fights, belts after belts. Dalton freed you of the leg lock and pushed on your forehead to get you off him. Your knees gave in under you and you sat down with each leg caging you in. You were seeing dark spots and colours, or maybe that was the bruise on the knee he used to fly on his opponent’s face. It was hard to tell. And it was hard to think.

His chest was reddened from the force of his orgasm, his cock was a slobbery mess of spit that dripped down to his balls and the floor. Your chin was dripping too, but neither of you had it in you to clean up. If only he had thought of filming you being the best slut in this goddamn world for him. His right hand held his cock, trying to stop the twitching. His left hand stretched towards you with his fist closed. He smile when you bumped your fist against it.

“Thank you.” You whispered, more like mouthed. Your throat felt so sore that the vibrations of your voice were painful.

“You have such good manners, baby girl.” He was now cradling your head in both of his hands, not so accidentally smearing more of your spit over your face. “I trained you good.”

Your hands reached up to your jaw and you massaged each side of it lightly.

In the meantime, Dalton pushed himself further on the bed and laid down, squeezing a pillow under his head to prop himself up. He used his pointer and middle fingers in a come hither motion, ordering you to get on bed with him.

You happily obliged, definitely needing some recovery time after the roughness with which he had fucked your mouth. You both laughed when he saw just how much you were struggling to lift yourself off the floor, so he offered you a strong arm to hold on to and he pulled you up on your shaky legs.

Dalton clicked his tongue in disapproval when he understood you were trying to lay down next to him. “Who said I was done? I certainly did not.” He had you on your tired knees again, pulling you down so your faces were closer and he could kiss your swollen and spit covered lips. One of his hands travelled down your body, down to your pussy that had been left untouched this whole time.

You watched him, watching you. His eyebrows moved in funny ways and his jaw dropped while his fingers dipped between your soaked folds. You moaned softly when he smeared your wetness over your clit, the outside of your pussy and even your inner thighs that were just as messy as the rest.

“If you want us to stop...” He interrupted his sentence with a rough kiss that he ended by pulling on your bottom lip. “Why is this pretty pussy so wet for me?”

You failed to come up with any clever response, instead you let your moans and whimpers speak for themselves.

He slapped ever so lightly your pussy, making you flinch at his touch. “Come on, baby. I need to taste you.” He stretched his arm out to catch you as you tried, again, to lay down. “Not like that. I want you to sit on my face.”

You glanced at him quizzically. You were exhausted — definitely more exhausted than the man who had one of the most critical fights of his career just a few hours ago. You failed to choose between rest and pleasure.

So Dalton picked for you. He manhandled you around, helping you climb on top of his head in the position he wanted you in. You were on top of him, your core just a few inches away from his mouth and you were facing the rest of his body. His cock was still hard, throbbing with the need to be touched by you again. He wrapped his arms around your legs and forced you down on him.

At first, you felt his tongue that was poking out of his mouth. He licked over and through your folds, teasing your clit that he sucked on for a few minutes. Then, you flinched again as his tongue poked at your entrance. He switched between licking and sucking, so that you could warm up to the familiar pleasure that his mouth procured you. With goosebumps all over your skin, and his tongue abruptly entering you, you fell forward and your face met with his cock again.

He was not the smartest man, but when it came to having his way with you, Dalton would always come up with a reason or an idea to get his dick wet and preferably buried in your holes. It did not matter which one, as long as he was inside you, he felt like a champion.

You caved in to the urge of feeling his cock again, of tasting it and of worshipping him more than you already had. You leaned on your hands that were digging in the mattress of the hotel bed. You bopped your head up and down on his length, taking your time to feel every part of him. You wrapped your lips tight around his tip, feeling how it stretched you out. You licked over the bulging veins of his cock, moaning along with him when he let out noises against your core.

Dalton planted his feet on the bed, legs spread open to give you space. He would soon tip over the point of overstimulation, but you felt way too good to tell you to stop. He focused on you, on tasting you and on pulling the sweetest sounds out of you. And then, he jerked his hips forward.

You choked on his cock and coughed.

He sucked on your clit to make you forget about it. He did it again, replacing whatever reaction you had with more waves of pleasure that built up at the bottom of your tummy. He played this game for a little while until he could not stop himself anymore. He fucked your mouth, the more you drooled — the deeper and the harder he fucked it. Simultaneously, he pushed his tongue in your pussy and swallowed all of you, moaning at your taste.

You pulled your head away from him, a small scream emanated from you when you felt your hole being stretched by a thick finger. You mumbled a few curse words that earned you a second digit inside of you. Was it a reward or a punishment? You had no idea, other than it felt amazing and it made the whole night worth it, from the sobbing to the lack of breathing. When you adjusted to the blissful pain of the stretching, you continued to suck him off, focusing on the swollen, red tip of his cock.

He was not having any of it. Dalton clenched his abs, fought his own tiredness and sensitivity and fucked your mouth hard. His fingers matched the pace, pushing in and out of you fast and deep. “Attagirl,” He grunted. “ So damn hot.” he praised you and stilled his hips so that his cock was hitting the back of your throat and you struggled around him. “Love the way you clench around me when you’re choking on my cock.” You gagged as an answer. “Makes you tighter.”

Sounds of protest failed to provide you with any mercy, he was fucking your mouth and your pussy like he owned them. Which he did, and he was making sure you would remember that you belonged to him for many days to come.

He felt you coming. He felt you clenching even tighter on his fingers to the point he struggled to move them at all. He kissed and nibbled some more on the skin of your inner thighs that were squeezing his head just like his own thighs had squeezed yours. Quickly he focused on sucking your swollen clit into his mouth and moaning against it.

And you felt him cumming in your mouth for the second time that night. Your orgasms lingered together, grunts and moans melted into each other as you both tried to drag the wave of euphoria for as long as you could ride it.

Much to your surprise, Dalton was the one to tap out. He was squirming under you before you had time to swallow every drop of his seed.

You carefully licked what had fallen on his abs and pelvis until you cleaned him up. At the same time, he stopped sucking on your clit to lick you clean with a flat tongue and wait as you released his fingers from your grip. He sucked them in his mouth and released them with an audible pop.

He granted you with the permission to, finally, lay down on the comfortable bed. Your head rested by his hip as his rested by your thighs. His fingertips gently caressed your skin, not even minding that you were sweaty just like him. “Doll?”

You hummed in response, too tired to lift your head and look at him. Instead, you admired the view that you had from your spot, all cozied up against his body. Your eyes were not close, but not wide open either. You appreciated the quite blurry appearance of his puffy abs and v-line, of the curve of his hips, and of how his torso was rising and falling down to the rhythm of his breathing. You tried to match his deep breaths and slow releases.  

“You’re fucking amazing.” He turned his head to plant a few kisses on your thighs, smoothing over the spots where he had been gripping hard on you.

“I know.” You chuckled along with him.

You both agreed you would clean up later. The rest could wait, not everything though — Dalton was already looking forward to wreak havoc with room service.

“Sounds like a good plan to me.” You let him take a power nap next to you while you replayed the events of the night in your head. “El’?”

He leaned on his elbows so that he could look at you. You were so beautiful, fucked out of your mind like that. No wonder why his phone lock screen was a picture of your post orgasm glow. He noticed you were smirking. He carried the reputation of being a straight up pain in the ass. You helped with keeping him balanced and somewhat sound of mind. But he loved the way you matched his crazy just as well as you kept him grounded. That push and pull game of feeding into his unhinged antics and keeping his feet not too far up from the ground was one of his favourite things.

“That was so much fun.” You let out a sigh. He responded with a content “Yeah, I know”.

“I was thinking of something...” You refrained from pointing out it was an usual event for him to use his brain to do the thinking rather than his fists — or his cock. “What other battle moves can I practice on you next time?”

[mister-eames]

darling, you have to give me more flesh on the scenario “what if arthur went to mombasa aka cobols backyard to fetch eames on doms request” would inception still have happened? or would end credits roll immediately? You can’t dangle that scenario infront of me like a carrot infront of a horse and say nothing :(

I love this question!! <3 I could write a whole novel on the possible canon-divergence, aha, sorry this took me a to minute to reply x I imagine it went something like this:

Above the din of the gambling house Eames suddenly notices two things at once.

One, the sharp scents of Davidoff Cool Water and nicotine.

The other is the barrel of a gun pressed in-between his shoulder blades.

Between his restless fingers the chips stop moving before resuming again. Saying nothing, Eames places the chips on the unluckiest number he can think of - if the person behind him is who Eames thinks it is, not a single sliver of luck can be wasted on something as frivolous as a dice game.

"Now, now," says Eames, sitting up straighter until the gun digs into his back. "Is that a firearm or are you just happy to see me? Goodness. You could at least buy me a drink first."

The dice roll on the table. Eames has lost. He wears his best look of disappointment as the dealer collects his chips, fewer than before, but still enough to cash in on. Currency comes in all shapes and forms and, hearing the tap of Arthur's loafers behind him as he's followed to the cash exchange, Eames very much get's the sense he'll need every last iteration of currency to bargain with.

"That's an interesting way of spelling Mombasa," Arthur says somewhere over his shoulder.

After all, Arthur is a man who plays to win.

---

"So," Eames deshells a pistachio and pops it in his mouth, "to what do I owe the pleasure of your company, dear Arthur?"

On the other side of the table sits Arthur, composed of long lines, angular limbs and dark fabrics, hair slicked back so perfectly it can only be a product of industrial-strength pomade and Arthur's sheer will. A pair of wayfarers are perched upon his nose, an old pair. His face is angled to the view outside beyond the terrace.

The nail of Arthur's right thumb, bitten short, digs into the side of his beer bottle.

"I'm here to offer you a job."

"That so?" Eames pries open another another pistachio, leaning back in his chair. "Tell me, was the gun to my back part of your offer?"

"Had to make sure you wouldn't run."

"What makes you think I still won't?"

"You won't," Arthur says confidently. "Not when you hear what I'm selling."

"And why would I buy anything from you," Eames asks, following Arthur's line of sight to the people milling in the market below, "when I could simply cash in on the price on your head?"

The challenge hangs in the air, suspended, awaiting Arthur's repartee. Instead, Arthur sighs, finally sliding the frames off his face, slipping them into his breast pocket. His expression turns pinched. "You won't," he repeats. He sounds less sure.

"I might."

"You would've done it already."

There it is. Eames shifts in his seat, throwing an arm around the back of it. "How'd you end up pissing off Cobol Engineering, hmm? Let me guess."

"How'd you know about that?"

"How did you know where to find me?"

"Inception," Arthur says suddenly.

"...Pardon?"

"The job," Arthur clarifies, a little uncomfortably. "Our client is asking for inception."

Eames stares at him.

Under the weight of Eames' gaze Arthur seems pressed to project nonchalance, sitting up straighter in his chair, re-adjusting his legs until they mirror Eames' outstretched ones. Eames knows him better. He's already catalogued all of the little things that are different with Arthur since they last crossed paths - some for the better - a nicer suit, longer hair. Some for the worse. Tired lines. A tie tied too tightly, begging to be made crooked. Bitten nails.

The problem with Arthur is that Arthur cares so much that it's written all over him.

"You do recall what happened the last time we attempted inception, yes? How horribly we failed at it."

"Yep."

"And you recall telling me from the get-go to the get-gone that it wasn't possible?"

Arthur shakes his head. "Doesn't matter. You still think it can be done."

"You don't," says Eames, confused. "Which leads us to the inevitable question of why you, Arthur, are here, risking your head to ask me onto what you in your mind consider to be a fruitless endeavour."

"Cobb wants you on the job. You'll get paid."

"Try again."

The exhale that escapes Arthur's nostrils seem to deflate him a little. The too-short nails stop digging into his bottle as the hand retreats to his lap. "If we're to succeed, the client will secure Cobb's return to the states."

"In shackles, I hope."

He shakes his head. "To his kids."

"I'm still failing to see what I get out it."

When it's clear that he won't capitulate, Arthur sighs. "What do you want?"

To never be in the same room as Dominic Cobb ever again. To wind back the clock three years. To live out his retirement in peace.

"Something priceless," he says instead.

"The opportunity to achieve inception isn't priceless enough?"

"No."

Going quiet, Arthur appears to think on this. "This is the last job," he says after a moment. "No more. He'll either go home or go to prison."

He says it like it's fifty-fifty; luck; the toss of a coin. Eames considers this, wondering uneasily if he is the element that will give weight to one of the coins sides - which yet, he isn't quite sure. Which Eames wants, he knows even less.

"And you'll be a free man."

"Yes."

"And what are you planning to do with yourself after?"

"That," Arthur raises his chin, meeting his gaze, "I will let you decide."

Lightning crackles up Eames spine.

"...That is priceless, indeed."

"Yeah," Arthur smirks. "So, what do you say?"

Eames writes down an address on a napkin. He slides it over and stands.

"Meet me here in an hour. I know of a chemist that might be useful."

Arthur blinks down at the napkin. "Why? Where are you going?"

Eames tilts his head towards the bar where a middle-aged suit sits, eyes flicking towards their table.

"Giving you a chance to shake your tail."

Arthur looks over to the bar and swears under his breath. "Does this mean you're taking the job?"

"Depends on whether our friend over there shoots first. Go on."

"Wait," Arthur says, placing a hand on Eames' arm. He raises an inviting eyebrow, eyes brightening brilliantly. "I've got a better idea."

---

Twenty minutes later emerge from a narrow alley with a matching pair of bruised, bloody knuckles, an unconscious body slumped in the shadows of the alley.

Eames grins at Arthur, who is already smiling wide at him.

Something in Eames' chest is in freefall, starting from his throat, right down to his sternum. The same thing that always robs him of any good reason when it comes to Arthur - the one that hits the reset button in his doldrums, like pulling the lever at a poker machine and says come on, try again, hoping that he might make dividends this time. A horrible lack of certainty; a wonderful, frightening unfurling of possibilities and hope.

Arthur's shirt is crumpled to hell; dirt and dust mar the cuffs of his suit jacket, the shine of his loafers. He places his wayfarers back onto his face and Eames thinks hello again. Hello Arthur, the man who is both nineteen and twenty-nine in Eames' mind, who has kept the same sunglasses from five years ago and wears Davidoff Cool Water because it was what he wore when he needed something cheap and accessible and never quite grew out of it, even when he has the means to afford 'better'. A creature of habit - and sentiment.

"Cobb wanted to come to ask you," Arthur says, tone light, shoving his bloody hands in his pockets as they rejoin the greater crowd, sides brushing as they close in to avoid getting separated.

"Thank christ he didn't."

Arthur hums agreeably at the sentiment. "What would you have said, if he had?"

Eames shakes his head, not even needing to think about it. "I'd tell'im to piss off. Probably had sold him out before he touched soil."

"Come on. You would not have."

"Would've. There is not a single thing in Cobb's coin-purse that would sway me to sign up for this," he insists.

Arthur rolls his eyes, squeezing past Eames to get through a narrow opening in the crowd. Eames follows closely, eyes trained on the back of him.

Well... maybe one thing.

He'll take the job. And after that... Eames has some ideas already.

[sempersirens]

a bird in your teeth, epilogue

masterlist

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: mentions of past trauma, ptsd, nightmares. so much fluff

a/n: a little palate cleanser. sun bleached flies joel is on the naughty step rn

December 24th, (five years later)

God only knows, what I'd be without you...

The TV turned black as the credits rolled, only the warm flickering lights from the Christmas tree left to illuminate the room.

You took a steady breath in through your nose and locked eyes with Sarah, both suppressing a laugh before simultaneously turning to finally face Joel, who had been trying to silently bite back small sobs for the past forty-five minutes.

"How you holding up, boys?" Sarah teased, lovingly.

"You girls are damn evil. Pickin' such an emotional film on Christmas Eve."

"It's heartwarming!" You interjected.

"My heart is feelin' a lot of things right now but warm ain't one of 'em." Tommy murmured, wiping his eyes with the back of his sweatshirt.

"I just can't believe neither of you had ever watched Love Actually."

"May 'swell have, the number of times I've seen you two watchin' it, all damn year round," Joel said.

"Keep talking like that, Miller, and I won't make you an Irish coffee." You warned, earning oooh's from Tommy and Sarah.

You pulled yourself off the sofa and moved to the kitchen, proving your threat entirely empty. As you pottered around the room, collecting all of the ingredients for the drinks, you listened to the noise of the three people you loved most in the world simply existing in the room next to you. The haze of their laughter mixed with the song still warbling through the TV was softened by the wall separating you, a honeyed prayer just for you.

Somehow, life kept moving after that night. Everything thereafter seemed to be measured in the passing of time. Four days for your lip to heal. Three weeks for you to return Daisy's calls. Seven months until you could stop taking the long route to pick Sarah up and drive down that street again. Two years for the panic attacks to stop, for good. Five years, and counting, for an uninterrupted night's sleep.

Two months passed before your tenancy was over, but you had woken beside Joel each morning nonetheless. Sometimes, before the others had risen for the day, you would creep down the stairs and pour yourself a cup of coffee, sit on the porch, and look at that house across the street. You would watch the lights slowly turn on, see the silhouette of life taking shape. A young family had taken over your lease, and it comforted you to know another life was being nurtured within those walls.

Neither you nor Joel had ever discussed what happened that morning in that apartment. And you didn't need to know; you were content with the understanding you both did what you needed to go on. Call it closure.

"What's goin' on in that head of yours, pretty girl?" You felt his chest pressing against your back, his arms leaning on either side of your body, entrapping you against the counter.

His face nuzzled in the curve of your neck, breath tickling your hair against your skin.

"Just wondering if you're on the nice list this year." You turned to face him, staring up through your lashes at the man you love.

"That so? We've got about," he checked his watch, "two hours until midnight. M'sure I can do enough to make it on each of your nice lists for the next twenty years."

"You're planning on keeping me around for that long? Maybe I'll have a love affair with a real cowboy." You teased.

"Good luck gettin' him to watch a Hugh Grant film with ya."

You rested your hands on his face, using your thumb to trace his cheek lightly.

"How did I get so lucky?" You smiled, shaking your head softly in disbelief.

There had always been a surplus of love inside you, even when you were little. Throughout your life, you had poured it into the wrong people, time and time again. Belittled, taken for granted, chastised. Even though the love remained, you had grown to fear it. It would be like riding an escalator and instinctively grabbing the handrail, but being zapped by an electric shock. Each time thereafter, your hand would hesitate in reaching for the supportive grip. Sometimes it would tentatively hover above, trying to gage the sting of electricity a few millimetres away.

But loving Joel came so easy. Everything about him made you want to tear yourself open and offer him everything you had, everything you ever had been, and all you ever would be. You would wake in the night simply craving the feeling of his skin against yours. And every single time you reached out to him, even in his sleep, he would pull you in.

From the other room, an old Christmas song hummed through the walls.

Merry Christmas, baby / Sure did treat me nice...

"I should be the one askin' that question, darlin'." His right hand flexed in and out of a tight fist, the same way it did when he felt a bout of anxiety rise in his chest.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" You asked, concern digging itself into the furrow of your brows.

"I'm no good at this, you know that."

"No good at what, Joel?"

He pulled away from you slightly, lowering himself onto one knee, suppressing the groan you knew he desperately wanted to release at the tightness of his back and knees.

"My sweet girl, I will never understand why y'picked me. Out of all the men in this damn world, even Hugh Grant, I get to be the one who calls you mine."

"Joel..."

"I don't know much, but I know that I need t'spend the rest of my life by your side. And I need you by mine. Would you do me the honour of being my wife?"

"Oh my god, yes! Of course, I will, Joel."

Joel slipped the ring he had presented from a small box in his back pocket onto your finger. His smile showed off the creases by his eyes that you often wished you could dive into and engulf yourself in each feeling that caused them to deepen.

"Get up, you idiot. Your poor back. I don't want to be pushing you around in a wheelchair just yet." You laughed into his kiss, your bodies merging together like it was all they had ever been made to do.

"Can we come in yet?" Sarah called from around the corner.

"Yes! Come in, both of you." You replied, cheeks wet and aching from the smile etched into your face.

"No chance of those Irish coffees, I guess?" Tommy smirked, you softly clipped him round the back of the head before suffocating him into a hug. "Welcome to the family, Mrs Miller."

Merry Christmas, honey / Everything here is beautiful, I love you, baby / For everything that you give me.

[ghostboneswrites2]

A Mess - Volume 2

Part 4

Summary: Pregnancy & Birth 🤰

Warnings: profanity, pregnancy, birth, fears of pregnancy/birth related death

Chapter List

all banner credits on the masterlist

        Daryl paced anxiously around the room as you waited for the results. It had been four weeks since he irresponsibly came inside you, which you told him would probably be the bare minimum amount of time it took for a test to detect the pregnancy hormones.

        To make the situation even more stressful, he had to get you to Alexandria in order to get a test, which meant not only did he have to face the people he’d been avoiding for the past six years — but they also knew you might be pregnant. 

        It wasn’t too hot in the little room, but he was sweating bullets as his mud caked boots left little brown shapes all over the previously clean floor. His mind was racing with thoughts and scenarios. How was he supposed to be a father when he’d never had a good one himself? Would your pregnancy be safe and healthy? Would you survive delivery? 

        He’d have to pack up camp and move you both to one of the communities if the test was positive. He couldn’t make you live in the woods in that state. 

        Would you be mad at him? For doing this to you? Sure, it takes two to tango, but he didn’t mean to take it this far. Was it too late to ask for termination? Was that even possible anymore? Was he allowed to ask? What if you died? What if you—

         “Alright. I used two tests to be sure.” Siddiq announced as he stepped into the room, halting Daryl’s incessant pacing.

        “Well, what’d they say?” Daryl asked impatiently.

        “The first one was positive.” He informed you both. Daryls face seemed to drain of color. 

        “And the second one?” You asked.

        “Negative.” Siddiq sighed. 

        “Well what the hell does that mean?!” Daryl groaned. 

        “Could mean anything, really. I suggest coming back in a week and testing again.”

        So that’s what you did. A week later you were back, bladder full, ready to pee in a cup and hand it over. 

        When Siddiq came back into the room, he was grinning. You sighed. You knew what those kinds of grins meant.

        “Oh no.” You mumbled.

        “Oh yes.” Siddiq nodded. “Two positive tests. When did you say you believe you conceived?”

        “Five weeks ago.” You told him.

        “I’d like to see you every two weeks if that’s okay.”

        When you looked over at Daryl for his input he was frozen in place. He was pale and sweaty and his fists were balled up tightly at his sides. 

         “Two weeks is fine.” You smiled thinly at Siddiq before saying your goodbyes and dragging Daryl outside. “Stay with me, man. Are you okay?” You snapped your fingers in front of his distant eyes. He blinked at looked at you. 

        An overwhelming range of emotions was creeping in on him. He wanted to laugh and cry and scream, maybe throw a few punches while he was at it. He gulped and looked around at the bustle of Alexandrians going about their daily lives. Panic set in. He had to go. He had to get out of there.

        “C’mon.” He ordered as he grabbed your hand tightly and stormed toward the gates. 

        “Daryl, can you stop?” You complained as you dragged your feet. 

        “Jus’ c’mon.” He urged as he tugged you onward. 

        Outside the gates, once he’d gotten deep enough into the trees, he let go of your hand and began pacing back and forth. 

        “Daryl?” 

        “Just hold on!” He snapped. How could he process anything with you staring at him like that? He just needed a minute. 

        You sighed and turned away from him, finding a nice log to sit on while he walked himself through a meltdown. Eventually the stopped and stomped over to you. 

        “So what do we do?” He asked, surprisingly calm.

        “We… Go home?” You suggested. 

        “That’s it? You’re p—“ He stopped himself before he could say the word. No, saying it out loud would be too real. 

        “Pregnant? Yeah. I was there.” You blinked. “Are you gonna be okay? I mean with all this?”

        “I’m fine.” He snapped. “I just need to think. We need a plan.” 

        He shook his hands down at his sides and started pacing again. 

        “We have nine months to make a plan.” You assured him. 

        “That ain’t enough time!” 

        “It will be!” You argued. “We just have to—“

        “Have to what?! I ain’t never had no baby before! I don’t know how to be a father!” 

        “Well fuck, neither have I!” You shot back. “We can figure it out. Together.”

        Your outburst seems to calm him down some. Suddenly he was reminded that he wasn’t alone in his terror. 

        “‘M sorry.” He mumbled after he took a few breaths. 

        “It’s okay. Come on. Let’s get home.”

         That night at the camp, you didn’t have much of an appetite. Your nerves had really begun to set in. Pregnancy was a lot scarier in a world without hospitals and epidurals. When you were pregnant before, with Shane, it was scary, but you were able to trust the doctors and their equipment to do their respective parts. As much as you trusted Siddiq and Enid, you were terrified that they wouldn’t have the means to help you if you needed it. 

        “Not hungry?” He asked you as he picked and prodded at his own food.

         “Not really.” You shrugged, setting down the tin can you were eating from. He set his down too and nodded.

         “Me neither.” He admitted. 

         “Are you okay?” You asked him. He nodded again. 

         “I will be. I gotta be.” He assured not only you, but himself. 

        “You know, I’ve never carried a pregnancy to full term. I’ve only been pregnant that one time, and I told you what happened then.” 

        “It’ll be alright. Whatever happens. I’ll be here.” 

        Months went by before the two of you decided to move back to Alexandria. Your bump was showing and your ankles were always swollen. The morning sickness had finally subsided, at least. Still, you were uncomfortable a majority of the time. 

        Judith and RJ often hung around you and Daryl. Judith was excited for a baby. It was strange to gush over baby names with a girl who you knew when she was an infant. Even stranger gushing over baby names with a girl who was fathered by your ex and birthed by his mistress.

          Still, you liked her. She was sweet and smart and didn’t take any shit. You enjoyed her company more often than not. 

        “What about Lilly?” She thought. 

        “Eh. Too plain.” You shook your head.

        “Dang. I’m out of names.” She groaned. 

        “What about Dahlia?” Daryl asked from the other couch, where he’d been sharpening arrows through out the conversation. He surprised you. You didn’t think he was tuned in at all.

        “Dahlia.” You repeated. You liked the sound of it.

        “Where’d you hear that?” Judith asked.

        “Dunno.” He shrugged. “A movie, I think. Always thought it had a nice ring to it.”

        “It’s pretty.” You agreed. “What if it’s a boy?”

        “Rufus!” Judith exclaimed with a giggle. You laughed and shook your head. 

          “Like the rat?” 

        “What rat?” Judith tilted her head. 

        “You’ve never seen Cinderella?” You asked.

        “No. But I’ve heard of it. She was a princess. Right?” 

        “Oh man.” You shook your head and looked over to Daryl, who only raised his eyebrows, clearly not on the same page. “We’re gonna have to find you some Disney movies, kiddo. The classics. Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, Sleeping Beauty… Too many to remember.”

         “The Lion King.” Daryl added. 

         “Oh, that was the first one I watched when I was a kid. And Bambi!” You snapped your fingers as more memories of Disney movie nights flooded your mind.

         “Hell, we had Bambi for dinner the other night.” Daryl joked. You gasped.

         “Daryl!” You scoffed as you tossed a throw pillow at his head, which he swatted away before it could hit him. 

        The next time Daryl went on a run, he stopped at a little pawn shop and found some movies for Judith and RJ. Finding Nemo, The Lion King, a few princess movies, and a few he’d never heard of, but they seemed cool for a kid. 

        Every time Judith would watch one with her brother, she’d find you and gush about the Prince Charming or all the catchy songs she liked. You were glad to give her some reminiscence of a childhood. It gave you hope for your own child.

        One day, RJ asked you if you’d ever seen Shrek. 

        “Have I? It was one of my favorites.” You told him. 

        “I think it is my favorite.” He’d say with a grin. So, you’d watch it together sometimes, or whatever Judith put on. 

        Time seemed to fly by in those last months of pregnancy. You were pretty sure you slept at least half of it away. When your water broke and the contractions started, you were just as frantic as Daryl. 

        “W-what do I do?!” He’d ask, hands held out as if he didn’t know where to put them. 

        “Fuck if I know!” You’d whine between contractions and deep breaths. “Find Siddiq!”

        The labor was long and exhausting. Oh, and painful. You’d never experienced pain like that in your life. You blacked out at one point, right when the baby came. You honestly thought you had died for a moment.

        By that time, word had traveled to all your closest friends. Carol made sure to be there, and so did Judith. The guys, aside from Siddiq and Daryl, had to wait outside. 

        Daryl spent the whole time trying not to pass out, Carol at his side talking him through the process. He was the first to hold the baby. She was a girl.

        When you came to, he passed her to you immediately. You smiled down at the little thing you created, brushing your finger down the length of her little nose. 

        “Dahlia.” You whispered to her. “Welcome to the world.”

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix @superbowlisgay @liizzygrant

[phoenixyfriend]

Flip the Hourglass 3

Chapter 3: Monster(?)

Anakin has some bad conversations

Read on AO3

-----------

Anakin has emergency credits on hand, but Republic currency is going to be difficult to offload to anyone who’s actually staying on planet. He has some peggats, a just in case measure he never fully outgrew, and one he is grateful for now. He saves the peggats for later, and drags Ahsoka Soka to the spaceport to find a more appropriate set of clothing for her. A few of the traders here do take credits, as they spend enough time going back and forth that they generally need both currencies in their coinpurse. It won’t work for everything, but fabrics and food and water are in supply here.

Soka complains, even whines a little, but he knows it’s mostly the heat and the dawning grief that they are slowly coming to terms with as a group. He lets her have a little bratting for her own good, as a teenager in a horrible situation. He still makes her get better clothing. Togruta are just as sensitive to solar radiation and the associated risk of cancer as humans.

“Ugh, I look like Obi-Wan,” she asserts.

“Not all beige is Obi-Wan,” Anakin tells her. He passes over the haggled price to the trader. He’s lucky in that his money is worth more now than it would be in a decade and a half, so everything certainly feels cheaper. Still more than he’s comfortable with, but it’s the cost of doing business. “You can wear your burgundy as a base layer, and the belt.”

“I don’t like beige,” Soka says. “It clashes with my markings.”

“Cheaper than white, and it reflects the sun better than dark colors,” Anakin reminds her, far from the first time. “I’m getting some too, you know.”

She sticks her tongue out at him.

It’s not just the color that she objects to, but that’s a safer point of contention than the loose and flowing shape of these clothes, or the fairly rough weave. It’s smoother than most of what can be purchased locally, unless one has far more funds than Anakin is willing to expend before he can secure a building and his family’s freedom; it’s also more expensive than the slave fabrics, but he can push the budget a tiny bit here on the Republic credits side. It’ll soften with a few washings, anyway, and the main concern he’s got is for temperature regulation and blocking the sun.

The shape… he doesn’t want her targeted for kidnapping. If she fights them off, she risks getting noticed by Gardulla and Jabba. If she doesn’t fight them off, Anakin will probably kill someone to get her back.

Shmi could probably talk him out of it. Rex might not bother.

At any rate, kidnappings are bad. Wear the shapeless dresses. Anakin got some for himself and the rest of them, too.

“What’s next?” Soka asks.

“Water,” he tells her. “Buying it from off-planet isn’t always easy for locals, but it’s the best option for using our remaining credits without losing most of it to currency exchange fees. Some food if we find it cheap, but water is probably still going to give us the most clang for our credits.”

Soka makes a face. Anakin ignores it.

They shop around, each carrying more and more products without a floating carrier for it. They get looks, of course, but nobody is too willing to ask why they’re not having difficulty with such weight. Too many options, and half of them are deadly to the asker.

Anakin’s comm rings. He picks up.

“Hey, General,” Rex’s too-easy voice greets, “tell me, how much trouble would I get if I shot someone?”

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Pumpkin spice

Masterlist

Pairing: barista!Walter Marshall x librarian!reader

Summary: You finally manage to get a date with the handsome barista from your favorite coffeeshop.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f and m receiving), p-in-v sex, hint of a size kink (blink and you miss it), a cheesy (romantic) date, a short appearance of Mike The Idiot TM, awkwardness, a lot of coffee and abuse of a cable knit... I think that's it?

A/N: Another promise made to @deandoesthingstome. I swear this woman is responsible for half the stuff on my masterlist at this point. Credit for the other half goes to @geralts-yenn of course. This time, it was - of course - because I made the mistake of adding one of the - according to her - more attractive Henry-shaped men to the Coffee+Cats universe. Naturally, grumpy coffeeshop manager Walter needed a hug and some good head, and Charlie volunteered, so here we are.

What we're left with is a crazy crossover between the Coffee+Cats AU and the 179th Crescent Street AU, because this is - indeed, for the people who are familiar with Crescent Street - the librarian!reader from After Hours.

@ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss

The brooding man behind the counter has been getting on your nerves for weeks. His only crime is ‘getting your order right’, which shouldn’t even be all that surprising, because that’s his job – if it weren’t for the fact that he seems to know exactly what it’s going to be before you’ve even opened your mouth to speak.

“What can I do for you today?” He could look less godlike, maybe? Don’t say that. Or he could smell worse? Or that. Or he could not smile in a way that seemed to make the earth stop spinning. Very dramatic, also don’t say that.

“Ehh…” Brilliant. Someone should give you an award for that monologue. Shake it off. “Since when do I have to order for myself?”

Alright, you’ve made him chuckle – God, that’s a delicious sound – and look away. Now what? “I’m sorry,” he says, still avoiding your eyes, “I can’t read you today. But you seem annoyed enough with me to make me want to make whatever you’re going to order lukewarm in case I get it thrown in my face later.”

“That’s too bad,” you say, “I was really hoping to get a recommendation.” Because you only know what you want to order when you’re here for coffee. And you’re not here for coffee. But he doesn’t need to know that.

“Well, why are you getting coffee today?” Son of a bitch! It’s a good thing the shop is slow right now, so you’re not holding anyone up with your… is it flirting? God, let it be flirting! No, definitely not flirting. Or maybe…?

“Maybe it’s not the coffee so much as the company,” you say shyly. Yeah, flirting. Qualitatively very poor flirting, but still. It stays quiet on the other side of the counter for a beat too long, which sends your anxiety through the roof.

“So, how about she has whatever you’re having when you go on your break in about... A minute and a half?” The voice belongs to Mike, the almost annoyingly upbeat barista you’ve seen around countless times. He’s responsible for at least half the college crowd that flocks to this place, because he’s a cutie. A little young, maybe, but he has a nice ass.

“I was going to go with a regular old espresso.” He smiles apologetically.

“You look like you could do with a double.” God, that’s a horrible line.

It’s Mike who ends up laughing. “He could do with way more than a double,” he snickers, shooing Walter away from the cash register. “Get out of here, or I’m getting you both pumpkin spice lattes.”

Walter shudders at the thought. He never struck you as the kind of guy who likes his coffee sweet, and you’re happy you’re right. At least… You think you’re right until you see the little twinkle in Mike’s eyes. Granted, that happens a lot, but never for nothing, and the little wink he throws your way suggests he knows his boss has a secret pumpkin spiced sweet tooth he doesn’t want the world to know about. So you pretend not to notice.

When you’re finally settled at a table, you talk for what feels like forever, your knees touching under the table. You’d expected him to move his leg out of the way when you first bumped into it accidentally, but he didn’t. Then, as your conversation went on, more and more of your legs got mixed up together.

“Walter?” For the love of God, why? “I hate to break up your date, but a whole sorority just walked in and I can’t do this by myself.”

“I’m on my break, Mike,” Walter grumbles in return, clearly not happy about the interruption. That’s a good sign, right?

“Your break, Mr. Manager, sir, ended forty-five minutes ago.” Mike would make a great wingman, if it weren’t for the fact that he seems a little keen to pat himself on the back for his efforts. “Give her your number and come do your job.” With a dramatic sigh, he walks back to where he’s supposed to be.

“I’m really sorry,” Walter says with an apologetic smile on his face. You shrug it off – it really doesn’t matter, he wasn’t even supposed to have spent the better part of the past hour with you – and slide your phone towards him.

A poetry reading in a – different – coffeeshop in town. That’s where he suggests you go. First, any man who is creative enough to come up with something other than ‘a drink’ or ‘dinner’ is worth a shot in your book, but when they’re of the dark, gloomy, burly variety; all the better. And no three-day-wait nonsense, either. He calls you right after his shift ends, and asks you to meet him in two hours.

It's barely a fifteen-minute walk from your apartment, which leaves you with plenty of time to complain quietly to yourself that an hour and forty-five minutes is not enough time to get dressed for a date, while getting dressed for your date. You manage with time to spare – five whole minutes – which you spend pensively checking out your outfit in every imaginable angle in the mirror on your bedroom door. You toy with the hem of the skirt you’re wearing, fondly remembering another time you put it on. You’re not one to kiss and tell, so only a few of your closest friends know the crudest of outlines to the story of your scandalous liaison in the university library – and the long night that followed. Not that you’re particularly happy that those same friends, to this day, still tease you about how you – a grown woman – let yourself get talked into a night in student housing with a guy just about so much younger than you that you really didn’t want to even begin doing the math, but you wouldn’t trade the memories for anything in the whole world.

One look at your watch tells you it was time to go, and with trembling hand you open the door of your apartment. It had been sheer, dumb luck that even got you this place in the first place. It's tiny – just the second floor of a beautiful old townhouse – and narrow, but it has a separate bedroom, which was all you could really wish for with your income, anyway. During this time of year, the street it was on looks like a picture; orange leaves bravely cling to the steadily baring branches of the trees, and litter the ground, making for the perfect autumn scene. The sight also never fails to make you more desperate than usual – even for you – for coffee.

You’ve always enjoyed the fall, including all its necessary trials and tribulations – slippery sidewalks that weren’t quite suited for folks with your level of coordination, the unannounced rain that mercilessly drenched you and your absolutely everything in the early morning so that the sleeves of your coat would be unbearably wet when you put it on later in the afternoon, the cold that had you shivering and covered in goosebumps more often than not, and your toes. Freezing. Always. On that front, living in an old, drafty apartment with less-than-efficient heating isn’t exactly your top choice. Oh well.

The coffeeshop is – as per your calculations – a little less than a fifteen-minute walk away from your place, and you dread being early. Getting there first. Waiting for him. Fortunately, when you round the corner, you see him standing outside. You happily note that he is standing there – again, outside – in nothing but a dark cable-knit sweater, jeans and sturdy shoes that are the most weather-appropriate part of his outfit as far as you’re concerned.

“Hello.” His blue eyes smile down on you, and you barely remember your own damn name. Was he always this tall? This big? This handsome? A nervous smile will have to serve as your answer, because you’re at a complete loss for words. He doesn’t seem to mind.

For a moment, you stand there, simply staring sheepishly into his eyes, until finally a drop of rain falls right on the tip of your nose, pulling you from your trance at once. “We should get inside,” you say softly.

Walter reaches an arm out. “After you,” he says with the same kind smile in his eyes. You pick a table in the corner, settling nicely on the comfortable couch, while Walter grabbed the two of you coffee.

“Pumpkin spice,” you chuckle when he returns with two identical steaming cups. He nods, a playful smile in his eyes, only. “Is Mike the only one who knows your secret?” Your nerves convince you that your shot at playful banter goes wide, until Walter sits down and chuckled.

“There’s, eh… There’s this woman,” he says softly. To your surprise, he doesn’t sit in the chair opposite you, but he joins you on the couch. As the café is filling up, another customer quickly confiscates the chair Walter isn’t using.

“Don’t worry, she won’t tell,” you say, your voice trembling as you briefly consider the possibility that he wasn’t referring to you.

When the reading ends, you linger until the shop closes – which isn’t too long after, but still, you find it comforting in the sense that you’re simply glad Walter doesn’t try to run as soon as he can. Outside, the rain has picked up, and if the autumn air was chilly before, now, it’s downright icy. Despite his lacking a jacket or coat, the cold doesn’t seem to bother Walter, and though the rain clearly does, he offers to walk you home – an offer, mind you, he’s not intent on allowing you to decline.

It would have been obvious to anyone just under half as nervous as you are, but neither of you seem to be in a hurry to get you home, despite the rain, both clearly dragging out the little time you both think is still left to this date. Until you reach your front door, that is, and you both look at each other.

“Do you want to come up for a drink?” Is that your voice? Your invitation? And is that him? Accepting your offer? Apparently it is, because he follows you in when you open the door. The stairs to your floor are almost too narrow for him, and he has to watch his head for that one ridge in the ceiling of the stairwell that you never look out for because you’re small enough to never have it bother you. “This is me,” you say nervously as you open the door and invite him into your place. He seems comically large in your tiny living room, and you barely manage to suppress a chuckle. “Coffee?”

“Please!” he says before he shivers visibly.

“Oh god! I’m so sorry,” you say as you realize – what you consider – your error. “I shouldn’t have… You must be wanting to get home and get out of your wet clothes, I…” A hand on your cheek and the heat that, despite being soaked through and through, radiates off his body cuts you off mid-apology.

“I wouldn’t mind getting out of these clothes,” he says slowly, his voice dark and husky in a way that makes your breath stick in the back of your throat for a moment, “but I don’t see a reason to wait until I get home to do that.” Without waiting for a response, he captures your lips in a scorching hot kiss that almost make you forget that both of you have wandered – slowly – through the pouring rain for nearly fifteen minutes.

Large hands gently tug your coat off your shoulders until a single move of your arms makes it drop to the floor, then they’re at your waist, pulling you closer. His lips are gentle, surprisingly soft, and his beard scratches against your cold skin. When you reach for his face, and your fingers connect with his skin, he inhales sharply.

“Are your hands made of ice?” he mumbles against your lips, his lips pulling away in a grin. He takes your hands away from his face, draping your arms around his neck instead, where you weave your fingers into his messy curls. They’re all but soaked from the rain, and part of you wants to offer him a towel, but another – much bigger – part of you swears it will die if not attached firmly to big, big man. Walter pulls you close, not expecting an answer to his question, and carefully slides his tongue along your bottom lip, begging you to let him in. You do, and you allow yourself to be swept away by the gentle yet thorough way in which his tongue explores your mouth, dances with yours.

With near-greedy impatience, you push him back, towards the door of your bedroom, longing so desperately to feel more of this man than you currently are. ‘Stumble’ is an apt descriptor for the way you cross the threshold into your room. Here, too, he seems almost too large for the space – which is so small that from where he’s standing, he couldn’t fall in any direction without hitting a wall. Your bed covers the whole wall beneath the window, easily taking up half the space, with your wardrobe taking up most of what’s left. You might have fit another bookcase in there, if it weren’t for the fact that you prefer your bathroom door actually closes.

Without thinking, you reach for the hem of his sweater, your fingers purposely lingering on the skin beneath, which – despite being damp from the rain – still radiates heat. Under your touch, his grip on your waist tightens, and his abs twitch. There’s more muscle to him than you’d thought, and you find another pleasant surprise when you rake your fingers over his stomach. So pleasant, in fact, that you can’t suppress a soft chuckle. Nothing says ‘perfect fall hookup’ like a deliciously hairy man. Now, if only that damned – and dampened – sweater would come off, that would be so amazing…

Frustrated groans escape the both of you when the garment puts on more of a fight than any sweater has the right to, and as soon as it’s on the floor, Walter kicks it out of the room for good measure. Your hands eagerly travel the now-exposed skin of his chest and back, making him shiver and moan loudly as you drag a single fingernail softly down his spine. He captures your lips again, stringing you along into the depths of another scorching kiss, fingers working diligently to untuck your sweater from your skirt. A soft growl slips from his throat as he finishes his mission, only to encounter the fabric of the blouse you’re wearing underneath the sweater – you really do get cold easily. This time, he is far less friendly in his approach, pulling almost recklessly at the fabric that finds itself so rudely between your body and his greedy touch.

Your sweater meets a fate similar to his, and your hands make quick work of just enough buttons of your blouse that you can pull the thing over your head while his hands continue their exploration slightly further down, following the soft curve of your ass and pulling you closer to him as he goes. His mouth barely leaves yours – he alternates between using just the right amount of tongue, and nipping at or sucking on your bottom lip. Paired with his obviously horny impatience, it’s nothing short of divine.

You can’t wrap your head around how warm his hands feel on your skin, but the contrast with the chilly air of the room is both staggering and arousing. Not that Walter had thus far been unsuccessful in arousing you – quite the opposite, in fact. His lips move to your neck while his hands roam your back and sides, hesitant to grab more of you. What does he think you’re going to do? Object?

Your hands are already undoing his belt, eager to take the final pieces of wet fabric off him so you can finally seek the solace of your warm bed, and he lets you, kicking off his shoes while you struggle with the buckle. Finally, he takes over, taking care of the tricky metal contraption with one hand while staring directly into your eyes. It’s at that moment that you finally realize what all of this is doing to you…

The arrogant little smirk on his face while he licks his lips doesn’t help – the whole thing sends shivers down your spine and your body answers with a greedy throb between your thighs. You manage to kick your own boots off before Walter mercilessly tackles you to the bed. With a single, swift move, he rolls you both over, pulling you on top of him so you’re straddling his thighs, his hands firmly on your ass, kneading the soft flesh with admirable determination. His face does a poor job of hiding the fact that he likes what he’s feeling.

When you bend over to press your lips to his again, you shriek in surprise as his hand disappears from its newfound playground and lands there again, only a moment later, with a firm smack. He shoots an apologetic look at you as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, and you roll your hips against his by means of a faux-admonishment you’re nowhere near serious about. A man like that can manhandle the ever-loving fuck out of you every damn day. When he groans, your insides turn to jelly. In the heat of everything that’s been happening, you haven’t exactly been paying attention to what this has been doing to him, but that move of your hips makes you instantly aware of the very impressive erection you’re sitting right on top of. Another moan escapes him when you repeat the motion, his hands grabbing your ass tighter – nudging you, urging you to keep moving.

Suddenly, he sits up on the edge of the bed, keeping you in his lap, his hands finally moving underneath the fabric of your skirt. Walter moans again – appreciatively, this time – when his fingers explore the soft lace of your underwear. Then, he chuckles. “For someone who gets cold a lot…”

“Shut up,” you reprimand him before kissing him hard. The line between fun and functional is thin, and it wasn’t that you were expecting to end up in bed with this guy, but you sure as hell were hoping you would, and peeling off tights in the heat of the moment has proven disastrous on many occasions thus far. You shiver when he runs his hands up and down your thighs, lingering just above your knee, where his fingers toy with the hem of your thigh-high socks – an absolute requirement in your marginally successful attempt to not freeze to death – and you feel his cock twitch as he does. He likes them. Good.

Apparently, your smirk is too much for him, because he grabs the backs of your thighs and lifts you like you weigh nothing. Next thing you know, you’re on your back, and Walter hovers over you, diligently seeking out the most sensitive spots on your neck. He kisses a blazing hot trail down your chest, pushing your skirt up until it’s bunched up around your waist. You can almost feel his gaze between your legs, and the way he licks his lips wrings a whimper from your lips. Seconds pass in which you anxiously wait for his reaction – a mocking grin, a victorious chuckle or a vicious smirk filled with pity – but it doesn’t come. Instead, you feel a hand on your thigh, creeping higher until you’re not sure if ‘thigh’ is still an appropriate label. His thumb softly trails the thin fabric between your legs. The smile that appears on his face isn’t mocking, cocky or challenging – it’s peaceful and almost grateful in a way you don’t quite understand.

“My turn to get you out of your soaking wet clothes.” It’s a joke, absolutely, but it’s a gentle one, just like his hands are when he hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties, and he slowly pulls them down.

You’re holding your breath. At first you don’t notice – it really isn’t until his hands slide up your thighs again and you suck in a desperate breath that you realize just how welcome the air is. He pushes your legs apart, settling comfortably between them before using his thumbs to spread your pussy wide. Insecurities plague your brain. You should feel exposed. Insecure. Uncomfortable.

You don’t.

Walter looks up at you with a question in his eyes, and you mouth a breathless answer to his unspoken query. Please. Carefully, he inches closer, until you feel the tickle of the coarse hair on his jaw against the sensitive skin of your thigh. You can see the shiver travel down his spine as he licks a single stripe through your folds, and you moan in unison. Almost immediately, your hand weaves into his hair, pulling his face closer to your center.

He's thorough, relentlessly lapping at your clit while you squirm in his arms, strong hands firmly pressed to the back of your thighs, keeping your legs open for him while he takes his time exploring you, tasting your arousal and learning what works for you. After some time, you notice he settles into a rhythm that might actually work for you, which – as you’re somewhat reluctant to admit, even to yourself – is a rather rare feat. Encouraged by the movement of your hips and the sounds you make, he continues on his mission, and before long your grip on his hair tightens and your squirming gets worse – so much worse, in fact, that he reaches around your thigh to steady your hips against his mouth.

Outside, the rain threatens to turn into a thunderstorm, and if you’d been in any position to notice the weather, you’d have been happy to be inside. As things are, you’re still quite content with your whereabouts, but luckily for completely different reasons. Your back arches off the bed when you come, crying out Walter’s name as you do. With trembling legs, you lay there, your walls pulsing and clenching around nothing. He lets you catch your breath for a moment, his lips never leaving you as he kisses a path up your body again, effortlessly reaching for the clasp of your bra on your back. He doesn’t find it – your favorite just happens to close in the front. Once found, however, that pesky clasp is no match for his capable fingers, and only a moment later you’re shivering as the cold air of your bedroom brushes past your exposed nipples.

He looks at you briefly before latching onto your neck again, gently sucking and biting your skin, making you shiver. One hand finds its way to your chest, fingers digging roughly into the soft flesh, fingers brushing tentatively past your hardening nipple, rolling the sensitive peak between his fingers. You whine, writhing against the sheets, goosebumps erupting over your skin – the result of the electrifying combination of the slightest sheen of sweat meeting cool air. He grins. Chuckles. Then, he bends his head to suck one nipple into his mouth, that capable tongue passing over it, toying with it, sharp teeth grazing sensitive skin, luring cries of pleasure from you in abundance.

Your hands all but scramble for the waistband of his underwear, slipping into the dark boxer briefs without a trace of patience. Fuck. Fingers wrap around – try to, at least – his unapologetically massive cock, images of that one night flashing before your eyes as you give him a few gentle strokes. A trembling exhale tells you your ministrations are appreciated, and you smile, hoping this is only the tip of the iceberg – a hope that is soon confirmed truth when he lets out a loud moan as you run your thumb gingerly over the underside of his cock.

A hand on the back of his neck, pulling softly, is enough to guide him to lie down next to you, and he smiles up at you when you sit on your knees. He’s all too eager to help you get rid of his underwear, and when you take your sweet time taking him in, in all his glory, he almost looks shy.

You start with a light kiss on his lips, then work your way down, fingers trailing the expanse of his chest, dragging slowly through the coarse hair on it, further and further down over his abs until they meet his hips, where they linger to draw teasingly light patterns on his skin. A featherlight touch of your lips to the tip of his cock makes him twitch and groan, and a soft tap on your ass urges you to keep going. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and with the tip of your tongue, you circle the head, teasing him until he’s impatiently moaning. His hand hooks around your thigh and pulls you closer – at first you wonder why, but soon after, his fingers run along your slit, searching for your entrance.

He pushes two fingers into your wet core exactly when you swallow as much of his cock as you possibly can, and both of you let out a long moan at the same time. You bob your head up and down his shaft in the same rhythm his fingers pump into you. It’s easy to figure out he likes it sloppy, and you’re happy to oblige. With the delicious symphony of moans and grunts that spill from his lips as an inspiration, you’re enjoying yourself greatly – which makes it all the more disappointing when he pulls his fingers back, a sharp smack on your ass breaking your concentration.

“Come here,” he says huskily, impatiently tugging at your arm.

You straddle his thighs again, reaching for the drawer in your nightstand to grab a condom, and waiting entirely impatiently for him to put it on. Normally, you’re somewhat nervous about being on top, but tonight, you couldn’t care less. You need this man inside of you.

Now.

Walter helps guide the tip of his cock to your entrance, and you slowly lower yourself, screwing your eyes shut at the stretch his incredible girth provides. Nails dig into his shoulder so hard he hisses, and you rest your head on his shoulder, whining pitifully against his skin.

“Easy,” he shushes you, sensing whatever distress you’re feeling, “take your time.” His permission helps; you slow down, and steadily make it all the way down his length. You take a moment to get used to the stretch, gradually relaxing around him. It feels no less full, but definitely increasingly less uncomfortable. Slowly, you begin to move your hips. It’s impossible to keep quiet – luckily, you’re not the only one who can’t seem to hold their tongue. Soft praise is mixed in with the abundance of expletives that come out of Walters mouth. “That’s it.” A personal favorite of yours, especially when he says it – a gravelly snarl through gritted teeth.

You could ride him forever – sure, your thighs will be sore tomorrow, but it’ll all have been worth it. Right? He clearly has other plans, pushing you off him unceremoniously. You’re on your stomach, and you half expect him to turn you around – but he doesn’t. Rough hands drag you to your knees, and – knowing what’s about to happen – you don’t bother raising yourself up on your elbows. They’ll give out in no time, anyway. Walter lines up behind you and sheathes himself to the hilt in one smooth thrust that has you gasping for air. He’s rough and demanding, yet kind and careful, clearly trying not to hurt you. Every thrust wrenches a moan from your lips, and your hand snakes between your legs, fingers drawing tight circles around your clit until you’re teetering right on the edge of bliss. His laughter when you beg him for more, harder, faster is largely obscured by the sound of rolling thunder outside the window. Your orgasm, when it finally does rip through you like an explosion, is theatrically accompanied by an almost unnaturally well-timed lightning strike.

“Dramatic,” Walter notes dryly behind you, his strained voice signaling his stamina knows a limit after all. In a moment of poetic justice, the storm lulls for a moment when Walter’s orgasm forces a sound from him that could be described as many things, but not ‘charming’. When he pulls out, your walls clench against nothing, and you whine softly at the somehow overwhelming emptiness. “Bathroom?” Walter asks, pointing at the other door in your bedroom. You nod, speechless, before collapsing on your bed.

His return marks the start of that awkward hooked-up-on-the-first-date-dance. Stay? Go? Hookup? Date? Yes? No? You sigh your relief when Walter hesitates for the shortest possible moment before crawling under the covers with you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and allowing you to snuggle into his chest.

“Do you mind if I stay?” he asks, a playful edge to his voice. “It’s raining.”

“Is that the only reason you want to stay?” you chuckle. It’s strange. Normally you wouldn’t be so confident he hadn’t been genuine in his remark.

“Well, eh…” he mutters as he nuzzles your hair, “there’s this woman…”

The sun is an unwelcome intruder in your house the next morning, and you do your very best to hide from the rays as long as possible. A new preferred method: burying your face in Walter’s chest. A very nice added bonus to the approach is that it comes with strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you tight. As far as you’re concerned – and you’re well aware that it’s a little soon to say this after one date, but it’s not like you’re planning on proposing today – you’re not letting this man walk, ever again. He didn’t complain when you warmed your icy feet against his legs yesterday, and the only reaction you get out of him when you put your cold hands on his body is a low grumble and an involuntary shiver.

“Morning,” he groans after a while. By now, you’re awake enough to at least make an attempt at playing host.

“Coffee?” you ask – a suggestion that’s met with an approving grunt.

On your way to the kitchen, you come across his discarded and banned-from-the-bedroom sweater – and you make the mistake of stepping on it, shrieking in surprise when the damp fabric touches your already cold foot. Coffee first, you decide.

“I have some bad news,” you say as you enter your bedroom with two cups of coffee in your hands, his sweater dangling from your pinky. “This is still wet.”

“Oh, god, no,” Walter says with a smile, “whatever will we do to pass the time until it dries?”